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#ended up with them suddenly changing their minds and covering my inhalers
tj-crochets · 1 year
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Inexplicably just got two letters from Aetna asking for additional information for prescription drug prior authorization in the state of Florida. Couple of things wrong with that: - the prior authorizations have already been approved - I don’t live in the state of Florida and never have - the information it asks for is information I cannot provide, only my doctor can, and she’s named on the paperwork so they definitely know how to send her the letters - I’m not in Florida???? Why Florida?????
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aliasnz · 5 months
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false starts are amazing in and of themselves, but what brings me to my knees is the embarrassed and disoriented aftermath that follows them.
in the midst of their prolonged fit, they swear that nothing could be worse than another sneeze! They make a double-edged deal: please - anything but this! Cruel fate immediately challenges them with a one-up: amplifying the sharpness of their next inhale only to snatch release away just as suddenly.
The first second is one of uncertainty: is it coming? Is it not? Their hand hovers before their face, the half-dozen prior outbursts having conditioned them to cover. Eyes squinted shut slowly flutter open. They gaze to the nearest light source in an attempt to bring closure, but before they can recognize the irony in searching for a sneeze after bargaining for their end, the maddening tickle has revived and demanded all their thought. Head thrown back, nostrils flaring, P'Please - Al-Almost? "A-Ahh!!"
It's the moment that their lungs are filled and their torso prepares to snap forward that the switch flips off again. Confused, they deliberately open their eyes this time, coming back to their present. Ears flare red as they realize that the sounds they have made just now are indistinguishable from gasps of other, more intimate contexts. Whether they're surrounded by a group of their peers, sharing a wall with their roommate, or forced to endure the aftermath of their echoes in solitude, their mind will quickly change. Backtracking on their heat-of-the-moment opinion: just give me the sneezes instead.
(Don't get me started on the not-actually-a-sneeze choo~? they release out of habit.)
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songmingisthighs · 1 year
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My Mommy
February Filth Fest - 8; mommy kink
group : ateez
pairing : jongho × reader
genre : smut, sub!jongho, dad!ateez
word count : 2.8 k
warning : mdni, smut (not piv), handjob, breastfeeding kink, boobs obsessed jongho, mommy!reader, sub!jongho, mentions of pregnancy-related crack-a-doodle-doo, jongho has oral fixation ?, slight impregnation kink at the end ??
a/n : finally the last part to fff !!! eeek i'm so happy that i'm actually able to deliver my promise and post for all 8 members PLUS an extra. initially i wanted to do four extras but as you know, i managed to post one extra while the other three are still on my notes. tho I'd maybe post them later as a personal project >:)
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"Gaho is finally asleep,"
Jongho lifted his head from his book and watched you enter your shared room from his side of the bed. You walked in groaning after struggling to put your 7-month-old baby girl to sleep for the night as he had just learnt the joys of sight and hearing so she became rather fussy. "Are you okay?" Genuine worry dripped from Jongho's voice when he saw you place the baby monitor on your nightstand as you sat down on your side of the bed. You turned to look at him and shot him a grateful smile, mouthing a 'thank you' as you were unable to use your voice.
"You know," the bed behind you dipped as Jongho placed his hands on your shoulders to gently massaged the sore muscles, "I wouldn't mind helping feed her when I'm around. Heck, I'll even clean her poopy diaper and give her a bath," he offered as he pressed his lips to the side of your head lovingly. You let out a hum of appreciation, smiling at how nice it felt to be massaged by him. He always bragged about how strong he is and while he used that as an advantage against his band members, he used it to spoil you with his love. "Yeah, but you work all the time and during weird hours for recording and stuff so I'd rather you rest whenever you can," it was true, you saw how your husband works so hard to provide for your family and honestly seeing him rest well and do some things just for himself was comfort enough for you.
You accidentally let out a moan followed by your head rolling and falling back in pleasure when Jongho relieved the pressure on a sore spot. Jongho's fingers froze for a second when he heard you moan, the sound sent a thrill straight to his gut and suddenly his mind started replaying some memories of you fucking yourself on his cock. It wasn't like he planned on thinking about it, nothing specific was turning him on (other than your moans), but you were right there under his touch. His eyes glazed while his fingers moved on their own accords, massaging your sore muscles to elicit more sounds from you that just made him inhale shakily. His mind was fuzzy with images of you naked on top of him or taking him in your mouth or even you stepping on his cock as he humped on your heels to get off. God, how he missed the days he could just be depraved and not feel guilty because there wasn't a baby in the next room. Then his thoughts shifted to the image of you during your pregnancy. It was around your third month and as you said, it was the sweet spot where your body informed the twins in the apartment but not the troll in the basement. While you loved how perky they were, Jongho loved how he was able to play with them all he wants. It wasn't like he wasn't attracted to your boobs before the pregnancy it was just that now there were more of it and you were lactating. Just the thought of him suckling your breasts and drinking your milk while you writhe under or on top of him, grinding to his hard cock due to oversensitivity got Jongho's cock to spring up to its full size.
Jongho only snapped back into reality when you pulled away from his touch and stood up, saying something along the lines of having to change out of your spittle-covered shirt that barely registered into Jongho's boob-induced brain detachment. Thought what came next wasn't much better for him as you whipped your shirt off and revealed your bare boob, hanging heavy on your chest with your nipples pebbled. Jongho's jaw immediately went slack and his tongue darted out as a reflex when he saw the shine on the peaks from you breastfeeding your daughter, immediately wanting a taste. Despite what your parents said and your baby's paediatrician's suggestion, you didn't want to stop breastfeeding until she was at least one year old as you heard the many benefits that formula just couldn't give. Plus, it was like strapping a treadmill to your chest, where else can you dump 500 calories daily? It was a win-win-win solution for everyone in your family. The baby gets her food, nutrient, immune boost, and neurological benefit among other things, you get to not worry about wanting cheeseburgers at 12 am, and Jongho gets some action whenever he wants.
As you dump your dirty shirt to the floor and turned to ask Jongho if he saw your favourite sleeping shirt, you noticed how his eyes zeroed in on your chest, completely transfixed. "Jongho?" You called out with eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Are you okay?" Of course, he didn't answer verbally, he simply nodded slowly before tilting his head to the side slightly as if to follow with the movements of your breasts.
Knowing him, you knew what he was thinking and it wasn't that hard to guess since his dick was begging to be released from his sweatpants. "Aww, are you staring at my boobies, baby?" you chuckled, walking back to him with your boobs hanging free, intentionally swaying to make them jiggle slightly. Jongho's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as his throat swallowed the imaginary lump that formed. Your confidence skyrocketed just from Jongho staring at you, he made you feel like you were the only woman he'd ever need and want, like you're the most beautiful and precious person in the world.
Reaching the bed, your kneed dipped first as you tower over Jongho, hands cupping his face gently as you gazed at him lovingly but your fingers were rather firm with your thumb pressing onto his bottom lip. "Does baby want his play time before bed?" You asked, tone lower than your previous, the same one you used on Jongho when you mean business. Immediately, Jongho took notice of your tone and he nodded frantically, "Yes, mommy."
In a flash, you found yourself on your shared bed, your back against the headrest with pillows providing a comfortable surface while Jongho was on top of you. A soft exhale escaped your lips as Jongho's lips work fervently to plant marks all over your skin from the side of your neck down to your chest. "You're hungry, aren't you, baby?" You teased with a giggle, knowing that despite his neediness, he still had his pride and the whine that he let out simply boosted your ego. Despite his protests, his lips never ceased their work, clustering to your cleavage and only venturing out slightly to butterfly his pattern. Gently, you cupped his face with your hand and lifted his face to look at you, "Tell me what you want, baby," and Jongho grabbed onto your thighs harshly from trying to contain his excitement, wanting to be good for you. "I want your milk," you were about to scold him for not calling you by your title when he suddenly leaned back and took your left nipple between his teeth, tugging them hard enough to cause you pleasure while still ensuring you wouldn't feel hurt, "I want my mommy's milk," he said, tongue laying flat on the nipple he just teased.
With his words, you leaned back slightly lower to make sure you were in a more comfortable position as Jongho took this as a sign for him to switch positions as well. He laid on the left side of your body, his legs slightly spread as his hands groped your tits gently. You hummed in approval, loving how he was being considerate of your pleasure even when you wanted to give him his. Gasps even left your lips when Jongho squeezed just hard enough that trickles of breast milk fell out of your nipples, effectively causing Jongho's cock to thrash in its confinement as his tip began creating a wet spot that was mere seconds away from being visible through his sweatpants. But he remained patient as best as he could, reminding himself to not do anything that could result in you punishing him. It was established between you two that he was not supposed to do anything until he got your permission and you were proud that he was able to be so obedient even when he was being so needy. The dark orbs of his eyes were twinkling with anticipation, looking up at you so patiently whilst his fingers massaged your tender flesh. He wasn't the only one who wanted him to suck on your boobs, you've always found a certain attraction towards seeing his pretty lips on you and the fact that he could just be so adorable and submissive in the bedroom for you and ONLY for you.
"Go ahead baby, enjoy your meal," you commanded.
Jongho wasted no time before he latched his mouth to your left boob and began sucking greedily. You winced at the first impact, surprised at how harsh he was being with you but that was just proof of how much he wanted you. It was endearing. Painful, but endearing.
"Fuck, Jongho, slow down," you winced, cringing when he bit onto your nipple a little bit too hard. "Sorry," He mumbled against your flesh, momentarily pausing from his sucking to place kisses as if to compensate for his rough treatment. But of course, he soon went back to drinking your breastmilk. Jongho truly enjoyed the taste of you as the liquid gushed from your nipples, coating his tongue and filling his mouth. He wasn't sure if it was the taste of you per se or it was the fact that it was just something your body created and he was enjoying YOU.
It wasn't hard to see that Jongho was having his own fun. You noticed his hard cock straining against the soft material of his sweatpants but he didn't seem like he cared about it much. Jongho froze when he felt you taking his cock out of his sweatpants, the cold air hitting his warm skin made him shudder and clench his jaws slightly. You pecked his forehead gently to calm his nerves down, "Don't worry baby, mommy will take care of you," you reassured, making him relax slightly.
The moment you started pumping Jongho, he couldn't help but let his eyes flutter close, enjoying the new attention you were giving his cock. Slowly, his mind was flowing with pleasure, mouth almost automatically continued its movement on your boob as the hand that was working on your other boob moved on its own accord. The feeling was amazing, having Jongho powerfully milking your tits with his mouth and his hand. Of course, the stimulations were different but in a good way, you were able to enjoy the different textures that gave different types of pleasure. He made you feel good that you started working on him harder. You knew he liked a bit of pain with his pleasure, opting for you to be as rough as you want with him as he tried to take it all. Jongho exhaled sharply when your fingers trailed down to his balls and cupped them firmly, squeezing slightly to the point that his tip spurted a tiny bit of precum. "You like that, baby? You like mommy playing with your big dumb cock?" Pathetically, Jongho nodded his head quickly, causing his teeth to scrape on your boob, "How can you neglect your cock like this? Look at it, it's hard and red and it's already leaking without me having to do much," the condescending laugh you let out made Jongho curl into your body for comfort, slightly ashamed but revelling at how you put him down so easily, "Oh, what would you do without me? Your balls would have been permanently blue had it not been for me teaching you what to do." Jongho moaned when you resume pumping him, tugging on his thick cock that could barely fit in your hand as his mouth drooled all over your tits and dripped to your stomach.
Without a verbal answer from him, you felt yourself getting slightly ticked. Much to Jongho's disappointment, you used the hand that grabbed onto his cock to pull his head back by his hair. "Mm- Ahh!" He whined, lips trying to find your tit to suck again. "Bad baby," a slap was delivered to his face, not a harsh one but hard enough that it made his eyes glaze slightly, "What do you say to mommy for teaching you how to use your dumb cock?" you growled. His response came first with his hand reaching for your hand that was holding onto his hair to place it back on his throbbing cock. Grinding up against your pal, you felt him twitch slightly, part of the tip slightly wet from his precum smearing. "Thank you mommy for teaching me how to use my dumb cock and giving you a baby, making you a real mommy," he said, the corners of his lips twitching slightly as he was teasing you. You had teased him multiple times in the past about how his mommy kink will eventually turn you into a real mommy so when you found out you were pregnant, Jongho was beyond ecstatic. Not only because now you both have a tiny human that was a combination of the both of you but also because he had finally gotten something to tease you with.
"Fuck," you groaned, resuming pumping him with one hand as the other grabbed his head and forced him back to suckle on you. Happily, Jongho complied, sucking more and more of your milk as you jacked him off. It was heaven for him to be able to enjoy you like that. His free hand that was groping your free tit started to grope harder, taking your pebbled nipple between his fingers to tweak and rub at them. At that point, you were sure that you were soaking through your panties and sleep shorts but of course, you couldn't care less when your husband was so close to cumming all over your hand. Jongho was a whimpering mess at this point, his grip on you tight as if he was trying to control his reflexes. His mouth was no longer sucking on your tit but it was still latched on, his tongue swiping your skin in an attempt to calm himself. The more you pumped his cock and the quicker your movements, the more he became erratic. His hips were moving on their own accords despite Jongho trying to keep still. "I- I'm close," he mumbled into your flesh, face hiding away from you in the embarrassment of his confession. You couldn't help but chuckle at how adorably shy he was. Even after making love and fuking each other multiple times over the years, he still couldn't shake how self-conscious he was. Which you have ensured that you loved and adored that side of him.
"Come on, be a good boy and cum for mommy,"
Jongho's eyes screwed shut as he moaned into your flesh in his mouth, cumming with spurts of his semen splattering all over your skin and his; thighs, abdomen, and some even got onto your chest from the way his tip was positioned. You didn't stop jerking him as he rode his high, mimicking his mouth that returned to sucking your very tender boob but a lot gentler. This time, you started moaning from the stimulation and your hand slowed down its movement on Jongho's cock to the point that it was just stroking him gently with the lightest feather touch and even then, his dick was still responding with twitches. Though he had just came, his dick was still hard and maybe you had yourself to blame for still touching him and moaning but you were only a human and you didn't hear Jongho complaining.
It wasn't until Jongho unlatched his mouth from you and sat up a bit that he noticed the wet patch on your sleep shorts. Suddenly he moved on top of you, trapping you under him as he started peppering kisses all over your face. Then he trailed down your body; from your neck to your cleavage, then stopping momentarily at the band of your sleeping shorts. "How about I thank mommy for helping me cum?" he asked after placing a soft kiss on your lower belly as his hands slowly pulled your sleep shorts and panties completely off of you. You let out a hum when Jongho started placing soft kisses on your pussy, teasing you by intentionally letting his lips linger near your clit and on the sides of your folds but not on the centre yet. "How about another baby?" suddenly Jongho delivered a harsh and quick lick by shoving his tongue between your folds and up, flicking your clit in the process. A yelp escaped you when Jongho used his hands to part your legs and folded them slightly to open yourself to him. Your glistening core was glaring at him and he couldn't help but lick his lips, hungry for a different taste of you.
"Yeah, I'm gonna make you a mommy again."
fff taglist :
@senpai-of-doom @doom-fics @kawennote09 @cherryxsang @ssaboala
@k-drizzle @stfuayu @fariylixie0915
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slashingdisneypasta · 16 days
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Ok ok... I haven't read the OG book (I ordered that though and it's arriving on Wednesday!), but... Hear me out.
Apparently, according to Google, originally Aunt Em and Unkle Henry are actually Dorothy's adopted parents. Her biological mother left her on their doorstep. In Oz, the Scarecrow, Tinman, and Lion all vowed to look after each other and Dorothy on their way to Oz.
What if Dorothy, as a baby/young child, got taken to Oz and somehow found herself in the care of the trio? Maybe one of them found her and basically adopted her (Scare was nailed to his post, and Lion was a coward that ran from everything. So my best guess would be Tinny). Or all three of them if they had found each other first? Imagine them all trying to figure out what to do with this child! Imagine the lengths they go to protect her and take care of her! Imagine Dorothy growing up and hearing them all say they don't have brains, heart or courage, but she sees them as the smartest, loving and bravest people she knows! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
Basically, a Three Men and a Baby/Little Lady AU, but with Dorothy and Friends. Idk about you, but I need this wholsomeness in my life XD ^^ (maybe Dorothy's wish in this AU would be to know where she really came from? 🤔)
*DEEP INHALE*
... now I have to re-watch 3 Men and a Baby. Thats okay, I love that movie XD
🥺🥺🥺 BUT IMAGINE LION FINDS HER FIRST!! He was scared by her at first, so he rushes behind some bushes or something... just to see another jungle creature approach the defenseless little bundle. And they look h u n g r y. And Lion is terrified of that creature even worse, but even more then that?? He's scared f o r the defenseless bundle!!
So. He decides, taking a deep whimpering breath. He has to save it.
And after that he ends up keeping the little one, because oh its kind of cute?? So sweet??? He's still a little scared of it every time it cries or screams (or sneaks up on him, if Dorothy's already crawling), but its so... weak. Cant even roar. And its all alone, like him... He Has to care for it.
But he cant do it here. Its too dangerous in the jungle. They have to go somewhere else.
And on the way to a 'safe place', they meet Tin and Scarecrow!!! The Lion tries to leave them both as soon as he sees them, but both times baby Dorothy slips from the Lion's grasp, or cries so sadly at the prospect of leaving them that once again- he h a s to step up and help the strange men.
Okay, some extra HC's that came to mind with this:
Scarecrow showing his brains by being the one to find food for baby Dottie after Tin Woodman tells Lion she cant eat raw meat- thats not how baby humans work. Scare did the same thing for little teenage Dorothy in the book! He found her food multiple times (Nuts, fruit) and I just love that about their relationship. He also covers her in dry leaves to keep her warm while she sleeps.
Tin Woodman showing his heart when he's the one to hold Baby Dottie and stick with her and sympathise with her through all her tantrums and bouts of uncontrollable crying. As she grows up this doesn't change, and he's always the one she talks to when she needs it.
Just another book thing I love, but- Tin and Scare watching over Lion and baby Dottie every night while they slept, since they don't do that. Baby Dottie often sleeping in Scare's arms because he's squishy and warm like a blanket and Lion will get startled if she sleeps with him and suddenly moves.
Tin Woodman making Dottie clothes and blankets and stuff as she gets bigger. I just feel like out of all of them, Tin would have the most home-making skills. (IMAGINE HIM TEACHING LION HOW TO KNIT, THOUGH!! It would be such a nice calm activity for him <3)
Scare and Lion telling the best bedtime stories while Tin sits with little Dottie in his lap and gets just as into it as she does. Scare's get goofy and out-there, while Lion's detail brave acts of daring-do he imagines he might complete if he had the courage.
IMAGINE HOW THIS CHANGE EFFECTS THE DOROTHY MUST DIE VERSION OF THE STORY!! Those are no longer her friends- thats her Straw Dad and her Fur Dad and her Tin Dad. The love Tin has for Dorothy is no longer romantic (Unless it still is, in which case... I'm still intrigued by this even darker storyline honestly) but fatherly. Protective. Maybe he's sad that she's turned out this way, but he will never turn away from her?? He couldn't?? Thats his little girl and he will always be on her side.
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lionlena · 10 months
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2. Trouble with ex (JoelMillerxreader)
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Ok, so here's the second one shot of: one shots week.
Summary: you have a problem with your annoing ex. You're afraid to tell Joel what you've done, but... you need support and comfort. (No pandemic)
Warnings: annoying ex boyfriend, little anxiety, established relationship, pre-outbreak Joel, loving and comforting Joel but… possessive!Joel if you squint
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You heard the message beep and anxiously looked at your phone. Another disturbing message from your ex.
'I just walked in that park near your house.'
"Shit" you hissed and walked over to the window to cover it. Just in case.
An hour ago, your ex texted you that he was in your town. It was a shock to you because he lived 200 miles away, but he was a truck driver, so that explained this. However, it's not explained the fact that he was writing to you where he was, letting you know that he was close up to where you lived.
Another message: 'You know what, I don't want to go home today. I will stay here for the night.'
You sighed heavily and felt uneasiness wash over you.
'I'm serious. I'll be here all night.'
"Fuck," you growled.
You've really had enough of this. Technically, your ex was never abusive, but there were times when he was pushy. You didn't know how to take his messages. On the one hand, you wanted to ignore them, and on the other, you felt unexplained fear. You finally decided to do something. You dialed the phone number and waited until you heard a familiar voice.
"Hi, honey. What's wrong? You know I working."
You bit the inside of your cheek. You knew your boyfriend wouldn't be happy with what you'd done, but you'd rather face his anger than worry all night about your ex suddenly knocking on your door.
"Joel... Umm... I know we're not dating tonight, but... Can you come over for the night... Or can I sleep in your house?"
You didn't need to see him to know he put his free hand on his hip and made that judging face. He already knew you screwed up.
"Sure. I can be at your place around 9 pm, but what happened?"
On the one hand, you felt joy, and on the other hand, you were nervous that you had to answer him.
"Because... My ex is in town and he's been sending me weird texts. First, he texted me that he was in that park near my house, and now..." You took a deep breath. "And now he wrote that he is staying here for the night."
You heard Joel hissing on the other end. You guessed he'd want to know more, but he replied, "Okay. I'll catch up on work and be at your place after 7 pm."
You knew your problems weren't over yet, but at least your strong, loving boyfriend would be with you soon.
When you heard a knock on the door, you looked through the peephole to see who it was before opening it.
Joel was standing in front of you in a dark flannel shirt and stained jeans. You guessed he came to you straight from the construction site. Probably earlier, when he told you that he would be at 9 pm, he expected to take a shower and change. But he had to abandon those plans, and you didn't mind.
As soon as he walked further into your house, you hugged him tight and buried your face into his broad chest, inhaling deeply his masculine scent. At that moment it was the only thing that made you feel relaxed. Joel began to stroke your back and pressed his lips to your head.
"It's okay, honey. I'm here."
The two of you hugged for a while before your boyfriend pulled you over to the couch. He sat on it, spreading his legs wide and pulling you onto his lap. And you knew the moment had come...
"Can you explain all this to me? Why is your ex texting you all of a sudden and how long has he been doing it?"
You moved uneasily on his lap, but his large hands gripped your hips firmly.
"Y/N?"
You bit your lip for a moment, then moaned. "He contacted me two months ago. He just asked how I was doing?"
Joel raised his eyebrows and you knew he was waiting for the next part.
"I texted him back and... We exchanged non-binding messages... I wasn't trying to cheat on you, I swear. I wanted to treat him as just a friend. I didn't invite him here."
You sighed heavily and looked down. You couldn't look in Joel's eye. He was a wonderful man. He was older than you, but he lacked nothing. He was damn handsome and gave you divine sex. He worked hard but always made time for you. Even if it was just a short phone call. He loved you and cared for you. You felt tears gathering in your eyes.
Joel took one hand off your hip and gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. You couldn't see the anger in his eyes. Maybe just a little disapproval.
"Why did you do that? Why did you text him back the first time?"
You shrugged and let more tears roll down your cheeks.
"I guess I was bored."
Joel nodded and sighed heavily. You thought he was going to say something that would hurt you. But instead, he gently wiped away your tears with his thumb.
"Come on, don't cry, little girl. I should be angry, but I think you're remorseful enough already."
You nodded your head and he smiled. Then he suddenly pulled you tighter against his chest so that your legs were by his sides. You put your hands on his shoulders and he started kissing and biting your neck lightly. You gasped and felt your excitement rise. Suddenly Joel grabbed your ass and you squealed in surprise. His mouth was close to your ear and he purred with his deep voice, "You texted him back because you were bored. I'll make sure you don't get bored tonight, baby."
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There is a possibility that I will write a sequel that will be pure smut, so be warned.
Taglist: @creedslove
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jadewritesficshere · 1 year
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18+only Thinking about best friend!Eddie who is absolutely in love with you. Who is too afraid to say anything because he'd rather be friends and be near you then risk losing you. Eddie would much rather sit and hold your hand as friends then sit alone holding nothing. His stomach turns at the thought of losing you. So he bats his eyes and flirts with others, just so you don't find out he loves you and leaves, because everyone he's loved has left (Wayne being the exception, and he's pretty sure he's just a burden to Wayne even if Wayne does love him).
And one night you're sitting on the couch watching a movie together. A movie that was really bad. You both had been cracking jokes about the terrible acting and the poorly written script. Suddenly, the woman in the movie was on her knees in front of the man. Eddie practically can feel the energy in the room change. The woman on screen is uh very enthusiastic and the man seems very uh pleased, but Eddie can only hear them as suddenly the ceiling is very uh interesting? You smack his arm and laugh at the over dramatics, but he can't help but thinking about what it would sound like if it was you. The groan that slipped past his lips was entirely accidental. You heard it all the same, turning to look at him. "Oh? This excite ya big boy?" You chuckle at him and he flips you off.
Yes, he was "excited". Excited at the thought of you looking up at him giving him the biggest doe eyes and pleading look. Looking so eager for him. Eddie feels like a bad friend, but at the same time he can't help but imagine how your hands would feel wrapped around him. "Eddie?" Your voice cuts through his thoughts, and he notices you have paused the movie. He groans at the picture and covers his eyes, because of course you paused it on the image where the woman has her mouth wrapped around the guy.
"You okay?" You motion to his very evident bulge," You uh gonna take care of that?" Eddie can't tell if you're making fun of him or just feeling awkward, but it makes him frustrated all the same. "Oh yeah, course I will. Not like you would, though it is your fault," Eddie inhales at what he just said and hears you scoff," My fault?" Of course, Eddie can't say "oh my BFF I was just thinking about you sucking me off". He goes for what he can say," well you are the one who chose this...this porno!" You laugh indignantly, " This isn't porn!" "Oh, so you watch porn now huh?" "Yeah, I've rented a video before." Eddie's mind is melting. You've rented a video before? You probably got off to it and-
His dick twitches and he slaps his hands on his knees,"Well I'm just gonna go take care of this and-" he starts to get up but you push him back onto the couch,"Oh no you don't." Eddie blinks a few times looking at you as you slide off the couch and kneel in front of him,"What uh whatcha doin'?" "Well, if it's my fault then I'm gonna fix it."
Eddie is pretty sure he's in a coma and dreaming this fantasy. Maybe he died and he gets to see all the things he wished would happen play out in vivid detail. Either way, Eddie is counting his lucky stars his imagination has always been good, because you're unzipping his pants. He lifts his hips to help aid you in pulling his pants and boxers down. You make a hum that he really hopes is approval as you touch his dick. Eddie bites his lip and tries to hold back his moans as you spit in your hand and then slide your hand antagonizingly slow up and down his length. "I want to hear you," you smirk up at him and he wants to say something but your mouth is on him and the moan falls out of his mouth before he can hold back. Your mouth feels amazing, and all other thoughts leave his head. All he can think about is you. He murmurs your name every so often, along with "oh please" and "don't stop".
It all ends too soon for him, Eddie doesn't even have time to warn you before he's cumming down your throat. You pull back when he whines from the oversensitivity. Eddie would say something but he doesn't want to ruin this moment. You're still kneeling in front of him, grinning up at him, and kissing his inner thigh. He has half a mind to just haul you up and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you. But he'll wait....wait until you say that's what you want. Once you give him the okay though, he is never letting you go.
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mothmage · 25 days
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6. Show us a bit of a wip!
14. Is there a character or ship you were sure you’d never write/draw for but now you’ve changed your mind?
22. Give us a headcanon for Armand!
14. armand/marius!! i really disliked marius when i first read TVL (the classic "he comes across as so arrogant" and "how could he just abandon armand like that" crisis), but then i thought about it for longer and realized that, actually, theyre the perfect level of complicated and a little fucked up for me, so :)
22. oooooh i have many, ok a sort of silly one is that i think he really dislikes synthetic fibers, like all of his clothes are leather or silk, linen, or cotton (or hemp, maybe). i think this is a combo of enhanced vampire senses, human autism (another hc), and "if youre going to do something, do it right." that said, i do think he has a weird obsession with plastics more generally! he definitely collected bakelite trinkets and dishes and stuff. i bet he dragged poor louis to home showings all over the place. oh, that's maybe a second headcanon -- i think the loumand years pre-interview probably went like this: a period of hyper-romantic and suave love interest armand, a period of armand getting more comfortable and dragging louis all over the place and trying new things (the happiest period for both of them during these years, i think), and then a period where louis started to retreat into himself again and armand eventually gave up and left him (which, honestly, the fact that armand left is still crazy to me. but, to be fair, armand is much older and probably left knowing it wasnt the end of loumand and that he would be back, whereas for all louis knew, that was goodbye armand forever :sadtoad:)
6. little bit from my reverse devil's minion wip below the cut!!
The door swung open, the ruined lock cast aside. Daniel cringed back against the light from the street, a hand shielding his eyes.
There was a thud, a muffled cry, and Daniel opened his eyes to see that a man had been thrown down from the doorway, bound and gagged.
He didn’t hesitate, lunging and draining him immediately, without a second thought. He forced himself to break away just as the man’s heart stopped, breathing heavily. Then he turned to look up at Alexei, still standing in the doorway, haloed by the light from the street.
He wore thick clothing, something like wool, that covered him from neck to ankle, and wore a sharp-looking sword tucked into his belt.
Daniel just stared at him for a moment, his brain still trying to catch up. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, hoarse. “What are you, some kind of…” He didn’t even know. “Serial killer?” He’d heard about those.
Alexei raised a brow. “Not very creative, Daniel.”
He huffed a laugh, almost hysterically amused. “Well, what the fuck else am I supposed to think?”
Alexei cocked his head, looking a little disappointed. “Really? What could a mortal possibly want with a vampire, you wonder?”
Daniel recoiled, repulsed by the idea. “What? You mean to – to force me to turn you? I could kill you now,” he said, suddenly enraged. “Maybe I should!”
Alexei grinned, sharp and a little mean. “No, Daniel. I don’t want you to turn me. But that’s a fair guess. No, I have something far greater in mind. I needed to see if I could do it, first, if I could capture a vampire. I thought it best to start with one as weak as you.”
Daniel laughed, shaking his head. “Stupid even for a mortal. Weak? I could kill you in the blink of an eye.”
Alexei raised a brow. “And yet, you kneel on the floor before me, even now.”
He stood, then, and moved in a flash to grab Alexei by the jaw, to hold him up against the wall. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you now,” he hissed, close to the boy’s ear.
He smiled, slowly. “You wouldn’t be asking if you didn’t have a reason already, Daniel Molloy. You’re curious.”
Daniel dropped him, stepped back with a sharp inhale. He put a hand over his face. “Oh, fuck me,” he groaned, barely audible.
Alexei looked smug. “Very good, Daniel. You’ll stay here while I take away your garbage? Like a good boy?”
Daniel just stared at him, expression twisted in disgust.
Alexei walked past him, bent to grab the corpse and haul it up over his shoulder.
“All that stuff you said last night,” Daniel asked, unable to help himself. “Was any of it true?”
“Any of it?” Alexei asked, amused. “Most of it was true, Daniel. All of it, one way or another. I’m not a liar.”
He brushed past him, and Daniel let him go, instinct making him cringe away from the corpse draped over his shoulder. “Which parts weren’t true?”
He stopped, just by the door, and looked back at him, a strange expression on his face. “My name is not Alexei. My name is Armand. That’s the name they called me in the circus.”
Daniel absorbed this. He wasn’t sure why he cared. “So Armand is your circus persona, right. Who is Alexei?”
“Alexei is no one. Who is Daniel?”
Armand shut the door before Daniel could reply, leaving him again in darkness.
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arielgobuss · 2 months
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56. Open up your eyes
Open up your eyes Save yourself from fading away now Open up your eyes, don't sacrifice It's truly the heart of everything*
The vision cleared and Harry suddenly found himself in the Potions classroom. He saw himself standing in the middle of the room with a dazed look in his eyes, a blank face slowly becoming a look of bewilderment and delight. All the students stared at him with curiosity. Snape was sitting behind the desk on the other side of the classroom, and he stood up at the same moment, without taking his eyes off Harry.
Oh, we're about to find out what this arrogant kid desires... I suspect it's going to be a spectacular show...
Severus' voice echoed throughout the classroom, but the man's lips were tight and he certainly couldn't say it out loud. So probably... probably those were his thoughts!
There was a snort from the Slytherin table, followed by an amused chuckle.
"Silence!" Snape growled, glaring at Pansy and another Slytherin sitting next to her. "There is to be absolute silence."
Harry's expression slowly changed. He looked hypnotized. His eyes wide with delight, he stared at the Potions Master standing on the other side of the classroom. His gaze was skimming over the long, black-robed body with such incomprehensible admiration as if he was seeing it for the first time in his life. As if he was just now seeing something that had been hidden from him before.
Why did Potter focus his attention on me? And why is he looking at me like that? I don't think he--
Tears began to flow down Harry's face. A revealing bulge appeared in his pants. Someone inhaled very loudly, and Hermione covered her mouth with her hand.
Harry moved away. He caught his robe on the bench, almost falling over, and tripped over a bag lying on the floor, again avoiding contact with the floor at the last moment. He didn't look at where he was going at all, his eyes were focused only on Snape, who was looking at him with increasing disbelief.
This must be some kind of joke...
There was absolute silence in the classroom as Harry stumbled his way to the teacher's desk. He finally got to it. He slammed his hips against the desk, wanting to keep going, but the heavy furniture prevented him from doing so. There was a true despair on his face. Snape took a step back.
That's impossible...
"Severus..." Harry whined, leaning over the desk and extending his hand towards the man.
Oh fuck!
Harry was pressing against the bench, struggling and trying at all costs to reach the object of his just realized desire. There was despair and determination on his face.
"You have the most beautiful and arousing eyes in the world..." he purred in a dreamy, lust-filled voice. "I want to drown in them while you take me... Take me, Severus!"
The vision blurred and everything around him began to spin. Harry heard Snape's thoughts:
How is it possible that the potion pointed to me? This shouldn't have happened. How is it possible that I am Potter's desire? Has this boy completely lost his mind?
Another twist.
I'm not done with him yet. Only now will it get really interesting...
He will deny it, but in the end he will break... Don't tire yourself, Potter. Don't fight it. You won't win anyway. You'll have to come to terms with it.
Soon Potter won't be able to cope with this desire. Soon he will start following me, he will start asking me, begging me... for everything. And only then will I triumph. I'll be happy to watch Potter humiliate himself in front of me.
It's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord finds out. I wonder how he will use it.
The vision cleared again and Harry found himself in a meeting of Death Eaters.
"I'm glad I could give you such interesting news, my Lord," Snape said, sitting at the table. His voice was quiet and dispassionate.
"As usual, you did not disappoint me," Voldemort replied. "What you said will help us a lot. I think we can use this." The Dark Lord's smile was poisonously ghastly. "Look at me, Severus."
Suddenly Voldemort's voice filled the space:
You've probably heard of the Admorsusexcetra elixir. It allows the entire power of the person who drinks it to be sucked out along with the blood. When I gain Potter's powers, I will be invincible and at the same time I will get rid of the boy once and for all. You will prepare this potion for me, Severus. And you will seduce Potter. You will get closer to him, you will keep him close to you and you will make him trust you enough to drink this potion of his own free will. Because you know perfectly well that it will only work if the victim accepts it consciously and willingly, without coercion and without doubt. I give you as much time as you need. I'll make sure no one disturbs you. You have a free rein, you can do whatever you want with the boy, but you will report to me on your progress. And when you finish the potion and bring Potter to me... I will reward you forever.
Voldemort's voice fell silent. Snape looked at his Lord and smiled darkly and unpleasantly.
"You know what to do," Voldemort said.
"Of course," the Potions Master replied.
The image spun again and stopped on Snape's chambers. The man was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. There was a terrifying smile on his face, a storm raging in his eyes.
At last! My chance has finally come!
In a lightning-fast movement, he rolled up his sleeve and looked with hatred at the Dark Mark on his forearm. A mark that was cut by a deep scar, like a knife cut, as if someone wanted to cut it out.
Desideria Intima... left a mark on me for life, but how could I have known that after drinking it I would almost cut off my hand? And now, after all these years... I can finally fulfill my greatest desire... I can finally make the Dark Lord die. And with him I will get rid of Potter. This irresponsible little brat will never be able to defeat the Dark Lord. There's no chance against him. And Dumbledore is too stupid to understand it. It's the only way. I will sacrifice Potter, I will sacrifice everything, just to kill the Dark Lord. They will both disappear from my life once and for all. And with them, Dumbledore too. No one will give me orders anymore. Never again.
The man stopped and sank heavily into the chair.
I'll have to play on two fronts... Dumbledore is one of the best Legilimens, and he can't find out about this plan. His 'trusted servant' plans to destroy his secret weapon and the hope of the entire Wizarding World... He probably wouldn't like it. - A sneer appeared on Snape's face. - I'll have to use Legilimens Evocis. Yes, that's the only way I can hide it. That I could hide everything from both him and the Dark Lord. It won't be easy, but I'm willing to pay any price.
Something dangerous appeared in Snape's eyes. For a while he just sat there, staring into the air.
Seducing Potter... It shouldn't be difficult since I am his 'greatest desire'. But I certainly won't make it easy for him. I'll give him what he deserves. I will cause him pain. I will torment him, hurt him and pull him back if he tries to leave. I will take revenge on him for all the humiliation I suffered from the hands of his father. The only disadvantage is that I will have to endure the company of this imbecile, to touch him... - an expression of disgust appeared on the man's face, but after a moment it was replaced by a crooked smile. - On the other hand... I can make him do anything. I can make him serve me on his knees if I want. I will humiliate him as much as possible. Too bad, I'll have to show him a little... hmm... commitment from time to time. But this price is worth paying if I gain freedom in return.
Snape closed his eyes and sighed.
Admorsusexcetra... Brewing it is fiendishly complicated, and modifying it... It will take me months. But there's no way I could fail. Potter will be a walking poison, a walking venom. The potion will drain not only his power, but the Dark Lord's power as well. And it will kill them both.
Snape opened his eyes. An icy fire burned within them - a fire that suddenly filled the entire space. However, instead of the crackle of fire, it resounded with a monotonous echo:
It will kill them both.
It will kill them both.
It will kill them...
The fire disappeared and there was silence, and darkness - a darkness from which the dungeon corridor emerged, and Severus standing in front of the cupboard. In front of that cupboard where Harry was currently doing his detention for breaking Malfoy's nose, and where their first intercourse was about to take place.
There was a dangerous half-smile on Snape's face. There was nothing in his eyes but cold determination.
It's time to start the show...
Snape yanked on the doorknob and the image spun again. Voldemort and Snape emerged from the multitude of colors and textures. They were alone in a dark room. There was a musty dampness in the air. They both had their eyes closed, but Voldemort had a terrifying smile of satisfaction on his face. The reason for this was the image Voldemort was seeing in Snape's head. The image of Harry, on his knees, with Snape's cock in his mouth...
Yes Yes Yes! Just like that! Absolutely delicious! - Voldemort's triumphant laughter burst his eardrums, but the image disappeared as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a scene in the Potions Master's office, with Malfoy and Snape standing in the middle. The man leaned over the Slytherin and hissed straight into his face:
"Don't come near him. Potter is untouchable. Do not harm a hair of his head! Is it clear?"
"Why?" Malfoy clenched his fists, rebellion shining in his gray eyes. "Why is he so important? Why did the Dark Lord tell me to silence all the rumors about what'd happened in Potions class and make sure no teachers found out about it? This made Slytherins hate me! They stopped listening on me! All because of Potter!"
"It's not your business. You promised the Dark Lord you would take care of this, so we expect you to fulfill your duty. You don't need to know the reasons. Should I tell him you're backing out? That you decided to disobey his orders?"
Fear appeared in the boy's eyes.
"No, but--"
Snape pulled out his wand and Malfoy's face showed genuine horror.
"I don't have time to play with you. You will be punished for your disobedience. Crucio!"
The room blurred and turned into the Potions classroom. Harry and Snape was standing facing each other, glaring at each other. And while Harry's look was more of a cry of despair and rebellion, Snape's eyes showed only cold calculation and steely hatred.
"I can fuck you, Potter. But do not expect anything more from me," Snape growled, emphasizing every word he said. As if he was soaking them with venom intended to bite. Deadly.
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fictionalscenarios · 1 year
Text
bts jungkook ff - splintered heart (part 3)
introduction: you start a new high school and meet one guy who changes your life forever
___
"Mom, I'm home!" I shouted under the stairs, put my shoes in the shoe rack and ran into my room, I turned the lock on the door and sat on the bed. Inhale, exhale.
I was really upset about it, but I thought it would just be done. I can't be in love with him. It just doesn't work.
That's how I convinced myself, but in the end I gave up and pulled out my phone, started scrolling through Instagram and tried to get some mental peace - although I didn't consider it a state where I scrolled through Instagram, and I was high at that moment she coughed and continued looking at the photos.
Unfortunately, it wasn't even what I wanted so much and what would have led me to other myalshenkas - they kept coming back to that mysterious one. and so I decided to improve my mood by flying into nature, into the slingshot, because that was usually what calmed me down. Green color around, clean air.
I opened the closet and finally fished out a pair of light colored jeans with a higher waist, a white crop top that looked like it was knitted from fine wool, but was still made of a really comfortable material. I let my hair down and put my phone and a five dollar bill in my pocket in case I wanted to buy something, although I wasn't thinking about it.
“Can I go to the park please?” I walked into the living room and smiled at my mother who was sitting on the couch reading a magazine.
“Sure, honey. Are you dating anyone?” she asked me and it was the only time she raised her eyebrows slightly, smiled and looked up from the pages to me.
"No, mom, alone." I smiled and with a silent goodbye on my lips, I put on my white Adidas sneakers, hid the keys in the other pocket of the banknote and left the house.
I walked along the sidewalks for a while, until we got to the crosswalk, which I turned green and was finally in the park, where I was heading from the beginning. I walked for a while along the well-trodden, pebble-strewn paths until we reached somewhere in the middle, where there weren't many people, where I sat down on a bench and looked ahead.
I finally managed to free my mind from those unpleasant thoughts that I condemned myself and breathe deeply. When suddenly I heard some unnatural sounds.
I got up from the bench and looked around - they definitely didn't look cheerful. It seemed more like someone was fighting someone. although I didn't want to get involved in unpleasant situations when I had the opportunity to rest, but in the end I couldn't and she went after the sound.
I searched for a while, not sure, but finally I saw a strange scenery behind one of the older ivy-covered walls.
The very one who had saved me from falling today was lying on the ground, and around him stood four strange, certainly not pleasant, tattooed thugs, who dealt him one blow after another.
My breath caught in my throat, but I finally turned around - apparently they hadn't noticed me yet. I thought about whether it would be better to stay in hiding, to sleep and thus help myself from an unpleasant problem, or to help him. but I wanted to at least slightly change the debt I had with him, so I stood up vigorously and reached them.
"Leave him!" I ran between them, knelt down next to my healer on the ground and stopped the others with a hand gesture.
"This whore…" one cursed and I winced. I really didn't like it when someone was rude. And when he was swearing at me.
"Please, this isn't normal!" I breathed out, trying to make my voice more desperate than fear. I rested my head on the bed and looked at the others.
"I'll give you, you…" she lunged at me and I, although I really tried to squirm away, was pulled to my feet and held tightly, she twisted my arms behind my back and pressed me to her. He stank badly, she tried I didn't notice it, but it stung my nose so much and it was hard to breathe that I coughed.
"One of your whores again, Jeon?" he asked my savior and I finally knew his name at least. Jeon. But still, I was horrified, even more than before - somehow I knew the man was telling the truth and that I was definitely sorry.
"Leave her alone, Jordan!" Jeon suddenly yelled and I looked at him - why is he even trying to help me when he doesn't even have a good reason to? That was one of the things I really didn't understand.
"Otherwise what?" he laughed and I tried to squirm out of his grip, but instead he tightens it until I feel like he's going to crush my arm with his extremely strong grip.
"Otherwise I'll beat you up!" he suddenly stood up and I saw how he suddenly rose from the ground and despite a torn lip and several other cuts and bruises all over his body that were just starting to color.
"I'll see you again." the supposed Jordan suddenly whispered in my ear and threw me forward. I couldn't keep my stability, so I just tripped and fell. I was already preparing to make contact with the hard cobblestones, but luckily he caught me and helped me up.
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daydreamtofiction · 2 years
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Would love to know the answer to 2 in relation to the Glass series!
‘What scene did you first put down?’
Omg this is so boring but I think the first scene I actually physically put down was the opening scene of chapter one lmao. I’d been visualising the story for so long and one day I finally just sat down at my laptop, opened a blank word document and started writing from the very beginning.
The first scene I actually thought of though, the one that started coming into my head as a daydream before I even knew it was going to become a fic, was the scene where Sherlock returns from being ‘dead’ and Margaux’s standing there like ‘this bitch’.
The two parts of the scene I first thought of were this:
‘They heard a chain rattle, followed by a click and a creak as the door opened slowly. There she was, standing on the other side, her smile suddenly evaporating as she laid eyes on them.
Sherlock smiled another rare, genuine smile. "Surprise," he said.
She walked slowly back into her flat, the two men following behind, and turned to face them in the middle of the hallway. She was barefoot, her hair tied in a bun, her face clear of makeup except the slight stain of whatever lipstick she had worn that day. She seemed smaller, or perhaps Sherlock had just forgotten. There was silence among the three; John watched as the pair stood opposite each other. He saw the pain in Margaux's face, the confusion, the betrayal, and he recognised it all in himself.
Sherlock inhaled as if he was about to speak, "So–" But he was met by a hard, stinging slap across the face.
"You pretended to die," she said slowly and quietly. "You come back here after two years, knocking on my door uninvited and the first thing you say is 'surprise'?"
"I'm sorry," Sherlock whispered as he clutched his cheek.’
And this part:
‘She threw the bag of vegetables back in the freezer and leant against the counter, covering her face with her hands. She let out a huge breath before reaching for the bottle of gin in the cupboard. John walked in, looking down at the bottle in her hand.
"Gin and Tonic?" Margaux offered.
"No thanks," he smiled. "Actually, go on then."
She poured two glasses of gin and topped them with tonic water from the fridge. John noticed her hands were shaking.
"He's been home for weeks, John." She looked over to him, tears forming in her eyes. "I'm not saying I was this big, important person in his life. But to not even cross his mind when he came back?"
"I don't doubt for one second that he's thought of you."
"Clearly," she scoffed. "And you. It's been two years; you didn't pretend to die, what's your excuse?"
"Hey," John began, holding his hands up. "I swear I tried to catch up with you. It was a couple of months after he... Well, I went to your work. They said you–"
"Yeah, I took paid leave for a few months and never ended up going back. Sounds stupid now that he's sitting in my bloody living room but, Sherlock's death... It changed things."
"Yeah don't I know it." John took a sip, "Where are you now then?"
"I lecture in forensic psychology at the University of London. Yes, I'm a teacher." She laughed into her glass. "It was just easier with having Vaughan. More 'sociable' hours; I can take him to nursery and pick him up again. It is better."
"Well he's lovely, definitely worth it," John nodded.
"Oh absolutely."
"And very clearly older than twelve months." 
They looked at each other intensely, the silence growing uncomfortable.
"He's Sherlock's, isn't he." John finally said.
There was another long, empty silence. Margaux put her glass down on the counter.
"I was going to tell him the baby survived. Then he decided to go and die before I got the chance."
"Margaux..."
"Don't tell him, it's been too long now," she said quietly.
"Tell him? Margaux, it's Sherlock, it's only a matter of time before he bloody deduces it for himself."
"Well then there's no need to tell him, is there."
"Yes there is. He's sitting in there right now with his son and he doesn't even realise it."
"And I've spent the last eighteen months raising his son by myself; explaining to a baby that his daddy lives in a special place that we can't ever visit. Now he's suddenly back, and he's sitting on my couch, and you're saying I owe it to him?”
"He didn't know, Margaux."’
The rest of the story just sort of built around them over time!
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themidnightcrimson · 2 years
Note
Alright alright a lot have been said here since the last time I passed by to be an annoying whore so I'll try to arrange my thoughts:
1. THAT ENDING. I trust you when you tell us to wait for part 5 BUT THE WAY you absolutely THRIVE with angst oh you're not seeing heaven's gates crims I experienced hornyness I experienced anxiety AND I experienced depression
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2. The gay artist anon!!!! Omg I was also wondering how they were doing with their story and I'm happy to hear it's officially going to happen <33 When/if they can tell us more I would love to hear about it and once the comic is out I hope they can tell us where to buy it bc I want my copy!! 😊 GAY ARTIST ANON IF YOU'RE READING THIS THANK YOU FOR DOING WHAT MARVEL COULD NEVER
3. SO that other anon talking about drinking breast's milk gave me a lot of thoughts but like the other way around since lately I am nothing but a baby baker for Wanda 😩 it's the idea of Wanda having us sitting on her lap, straddling her. She humming with pleasure while her mouth covers our nipple and she grips our hips to hold us in place bc we're becoming a wet mess "Stay still, dętka. Let me drink from you." And like she would say this with a thick accent bc we all agree that Wanda's accent deepens when she's fucking someone right?? 🥵 Then she would have us tasting our milk on her tongue and she would just touch and squeeze and sink her face into our boobs making us arch our backs desperately "You're going to keep my children well fed, kroshka."
Now this all stated I'll just say I'm 100% sure no doubts Wanda would be the kind of person who would come back home after a stressful day to sink her face into her gf's boobs and inhale change my mind
4. I hope Ellen knows them and their aunt are absolute icons
1. part 5 will send me either to heaven or hell, it will be up to you😭
2. I LOVE THE SUPPORT FOR COMIC ARTIST ANON!!!!
3. “baby baker” 😭 holy fuck the imagine you just put in my head i- i am suddenly nothing but an easy bake oven for wanda 🤰🏼 i will feed her anyday
4. we love Ellen
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littlespoonevan · 2 years
Note
Buddie with k?
Anonymous asked: If you're still taking prompts, how about Catastrophize by Noah Kahan or Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil?
I decided to combine the two of these because K. On the edge of consciousness + the lyrics "While we sit and wait for time // To change our luck // And open up those blinds // Oh, don't you know // Don't you know that you're the last thing on my mind" and the 5x16 spoilers had me thinking Thoughts 👀
spoilers/speculation for the Event in s5 but also my ability to predict things began and ended with the blackout lmao
-
When the fire starts in the dispatch centre Eddie gets the distinct impression that the universe is mocking him.
Or at the very least, laughing at him.
Even so, after the first five seconds of panic he can feel himself slipping back into the old version of himself – calm, controlled, competent. Even his uniform suddenly feels like it fits him better.
Old habits and years of training have him out of his seat, directing everyone on his floor towards the back exit away from the smoke – they’re all first responders, they all know the protocol, but it’s different reciting it over the phone versus being the one in the situation yourself.
One of the women on his floor – the retired captain of the 132 – is on her radio, no doubt contacting the nearest station and she gives Eddie a nod as he jogs past her.
There are a few of them in this particular dispatch centre that used to be firefighters – some who retired early, others who had to tap out because of an injury – but he’s the one with the most up to date training.
So he does what he’d do if he was wearing turnouts right now instead of his uniform shirt – he pulls the fire extinguisher off the wall and searches the floor to get people out before moving onto the next floor to do the same.
It only takes a few minutes before he’s bumping into the 118 and there’s an oddly sour feeling in his gut when Hen grips his arm and tells him to head outside. “We’ve got it from here,” she assures him and he gets it. He’s been in here inhaling smoke for however long with nothing more than the dampened collar of his shirt to cover his mouth and nose, he’s not in turnouts, and he’s pretty sure the place has been more or less evacuated now anyway.
He doesn’t like it though. And he gets the vague feeling that this is how Buck must’ve felt back before he’d filed the lawsuit. But Eddie was the one who chose to quit; he doesn’t have the right to complain now.
The minute he steps out through the exit one of the 133’s paramedics is bustling him towards the back of an ambulance to get checked out. He sits through the examination, takes a few puffs of an oxygen mask, and is thankfully dismissed before he has to start getting pissy. He finds Bobby out in front of the 118’s ladder truck, surveying the building and periodically checking in on the teams through his radio.
“Hey Cap,” he greets hoarsely.
Bobby tears his eyes away from the building, startling before he grabs hold of Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey. Are you okay? Have you been checked out-?”
“I’m all good,” he assures him. “Know what the cause is yet?”
Bobby shakes his head, concern etched into the line of his mouth. It’s never good when they don’t know what kind of fire they’re up against.
“Second floor’s all clear, Cap,” Chimney’s voice comes through the radio.
Bobby clicks on his radio, “Okay just-“
His words are cut off by an explosion that rocks the western side of the building, black plumes of smoke billowing into the sky. Eddie flinches back, shielding his eyes, and Bobby has barely regained his footing when he’s dragging his radio up to his mouth again. “Captain Nash to 118, calling for immediate evacuation. Building is compromised – get out now.”
Eddie stands beside him, paralysed, hands balled into fists as he keeps his eyes trained on the doorway that’s somehow still intact.
He listens to the chorus of ‘Copy’s and tries not to panic when he doesn’t hear Buck’s voice among them.
Slowly but surely, firefighters begin pouring out of the building and Eddie studies them all but none of them are his- none of them are Buck.
It’s when Hen and Chimney reach them that he loses the last shred of his patience. “Where’s Buck?” he demands and he doesn’t know if the tremor in his voice is frustration or terror or both.
Hen looks confused, wiping at her brow with the sleeve of her turnout and craning her neck to look behind them. “I don’t know; I think he was on the third floor.”
My floor, Eddie thinks, dread settling in his stomach. “He was looking for me,” he says, mostly to himself until he notices the grim look shared between Hen and Chimney. “He was- I have to go in there.”
He’s hardly taken a step when Bobby’s strong grip is pushing him back. “Eddie, you can’t. You’re not wearing proper gear and the building isn’t secure.”
“I don’t care, he was- Bobby, it’s Buck.”
Bobby’s expression tightens. “I know.” He sighs, looking from Hen to Chimney then back to Eddie. “Just- wait a second.” Then, releasing Eddie’s shoulder he reaches for his radio. “Firefighter Buckley, do you copy?”
Silence.
“Firefighter Buckley, this is your captain speaking. Do you copy?”
Eddie shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this. Without giving Bobby a chance to grab hold of him again, he makes for the truck, grabbing the first turnout coat and helmet he can find.
He’ll get Buck back himself.
-
It’s almost impossible to see through the smoke once Eddie’s back inside. Only his knowledge of working at dispatch these past couple of months has him moving as quickly as he is.
When he reaches the third floor he calls out for Buck, pushing his way through falling debris.
The heat of the fire, the weight of the oxygen tank Hen had wordlessly offered him – it’s almost too familiar. It still feels wrong though without Buck by his side.
Finally, after what feels like far too long, he catches sight of something near what he’s pretty sure are the remains of his desk.
“Buck!” he shouts, weaving his way through the room and avoiding the flames as best he can. “Buck!”
Buck is on the floor, mask cracked and helmet askew but undoubtedly alive.
“Buck!” he calls again, dropping to his knees and jostling Buck’s shoulders in an attempt to rouse him. “Hey, can you hear me?”
There’s nothing for a beat and then Buck lets out a low groan, brow furrowing as he slowly squints his eyes open. “Eddie?” he slurs.
“Yeah,” Eddie replies, letting out a harsh breath. “What the hell were you doing up here on your own?”
Buck coughs, offering him a barely visible smile through the mask. “Was lookin’ f’r my partner,” he mumbles and Eddie’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest.
“So was I,” he says, letting out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. Can you move?”
Buck frowns as he does a quick self-assessment, nodding uncertainly after a moment. And Eddie wants to be careful but he’s not sure how much time they have left so he puts his hands under Buck’s arms and attempts to haul him upright. Buck helps as best he can, gripping Eddie’s hands tightly and using them to push himself into a standing position.
Eddie allows himself half a heartbeat to stare at him, to confirm to himself Buck really is okay, and then he’s slinging Buck’s arm over his shoulder and wrapping his own securely around Buck’s waist.
It’s time to go.
-
Chimney and Hen are waiting at the door when they make it out, a stretcher already lined up to ease Buck onto. Eddie rushes along behind them, shucking off his mask and oxygen tank. He almost doesn’t stop to thank the firefighter who takes it from him until he realises it’s Bobby.
“Look, you can yell at me later-“
“I’m not going to yell,” Bobby interrupts and he looks tired – the lines around his eyes are more pronounced like they tend to get when he’s worried. But he’s almost smiling beneath it all. “So long as there’s a message on my answering machine when I get back to the station telling me you want to be reinstated.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh, surprised that the words don’t elicit the kind of panic in him they would’ve a few weeks ago. “I’ve gotta get to the hospital first,” he says, nodding to where Hen and Chimney are loading Buck into the back of their ambulance. “But after that- maybe we could talk?”
Bobby gives him a knowing smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “Take care of him for me.”
Eddie nods, only lingering long enough to say, “Thanks, Cap,” before he’s hurrying after Hen and Chim.
“He was asking for you,” Chim says as soon as he climbs into the back of the ambulance.
Eddie reaches for Buck, taking his hand between both of his own and squeezing gently. “Hey, hotshot. You still with me?”
“Eddie?” Buck breathes, tugging at his oxygen mask with his free hand. “Thought I hallucinated you.”
Eddie grins, even as tears prick at the corner of his eyes. “As if I’d let anyone else save you but me.”
Buck’s smile is wide and blinding, and only wobbles when it’s cut off with a cough. “Thanks,” he hums, eyes heavy-lidded. “Missed you, y’know?”
“Missed you too,” he replies, the words half-muffled where he presses his mouth against their joined hands.
“As sweet as this is, you need to keep this on,” Chimney cuts in, firmly placing the oxygen mask back down over Buck’s nose and mouth.
Buck rolls his eyes but when he looks back to Eddie there’s nothing but affection. “Stay?” he requests. It’s garbled through the mask but Eddie understands it anyway.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m staying.”
~
240 notes · View notes
faulty-writes · 2 years
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[ So I just ordered some coconut cream pie scented perfume and I suddenly had this thought, ‘How would Fat Gum react to sweet or food scented perfume?’ so I wrote this little something involving that idea. I hope you enjoy my fellow Fat Gum lovers. ]
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“You’ve been teasing me lately with that perfume, little devil,” Taishiro stated as he tightened his arms around your waist, once again leaning close to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck which allowed him to inhale more of that sweet aroma. 
Unlike most days, he was in his standard form which was merely a result of burning through all of his fat to stop whatever villains had caused mischief just before the work day ended. Not that you minded considering that you loved Taishiro in either form.
Still, you couldn’t help but giggle as he continued to sniff your neck. “Hm?” he lifted his head, looking at you with those yellow eyes that always reminded you of sunflowers. “Sorry, am I tickling ya?” he questioned with a growing smile. 
If he were being honest, he did find some amusement in hearing those little spurts of laughter. “I can’t help it with how sweet ya smell right now,” he stated before yet again burying his face into your neck causing your fit of chuckles to resume. 
He had insisted you sit on the kitchen counter for two reasons, the first being that you had just finished cooking dinner and deserved to rest. The second and perhaps more selfish of the two reasons was so that he could get a big ol’ whiff of that new perfume you had decided to wear. 
Of course, this had been an ongoing occurrence given the fact that as of late you had been purchasing various sweet or food smelling perfumes which, of course, sparked Taishiro’s interest. On occasion, he made it known that he wanted to pass the line of being frisky and ‘eat you up’ as he put it. 
Which seemed to be the case right now as you felt him pepper several sloppy and quick kisses up your neck before yet again stopping to inhale the sweet scent that coated you. “Mm,” the sound rumbled in his throat as he briefly closed his eyes.
“You’re makin’ me hungry, ya know that right?” you couldn’t help but chuckle at his words and shook your head before pointing towards the oven where several pans and pots filled with food sat. “You know there’s food behind you, right?” you were teasing him but Taishiro shrugged before his tongue came out, slowly gliding across his lips. 
“I know you’re a fine cook, dumpling,” he said, and that was yet another quality he admired about you. “I’d have to say I’m a pretty lucky fella,” he leaned forward to press a kiss to your ear which caused a subtle shiver to course down your spine. 
Then his hot breath came and you latched onto your lip when he whispered, “But I’m only hungry for one thing and I can’t help myself when that honeyed scent is covering ya,” into your ear and pulled his lips back to gently sink his teeth into the side of your neck. 
A surprised gasp came and your fingers dug into the orange fabric of his signature hoodie, part of you was a little disappointed he hadn’t changed yet. You assumed he would go about his normal routine after he got home which included showering, eating, and falling asleep after some cuddles.  
But instead, here you were and it was all thanks to the damned perfume you decided to wear. Yet, could you honestly complain? Taishiro was by a vast comparison unlike anyone you had met. Always considerate, protective, and showered you with compliments. 
Those qualities remained even in heated moments like this, but Taishiro was slightly more determined and took the lead. You spread your legs, allowing them to curve around him and the heels of your feet to gently tap against his sides. 
A soft growl rumbled in his throat and you could feel the way his lips sealed around a section of your neck before his teeth began to apply pressure. Normally, you didn’t mind when Taishiro left a mark on you considering there was always the option of covering it up, not that you wanted to. 
When he pulled away you could feel that fresh bruise throb and watched as the man gave a satisfied smirk. “Mm…your skin tastes just as sweet as that perfume,” he stated as his thumb grazed across his bottom lip. He then reached over and gently grasped your chin, tilting your head just so.  
“What’s the matter, dumpling?” he questioned as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours. It came as little surprise your eyes were immediately drawn to his meanwhile he glanced down, taking note of your flushed cheeks. 
Not only that, but he also noticed the slight heaviness of your breathing and the way your chest heaved up and down. Was it too sadistic to say he enjoyed knowing he caused this reaction in you or maybe was just the slightest bit proud? “Did I rile ya up too much?” he questioned with yet another chuckle before he leaned back. 
“I’m gonna be honest,” he said as he sheepishly glanced away, “not sure if I should apologize or not,” you watched the corner of his lip move, almost forming a half smile. “But I’m sure a kiss will make it up to ya,” he leaned down and yet again pressed his lips against yours, successfully halting your breathing.
However, before you had the chance to return the kiss Taishiro turned his head and began to leave a trail of kisses up the side of your jaw. A soft whimper came when he reached up to cup your cheek with one hand and his lips proceeded to work along the curve of your ear.  
A shiver ran down your spine when you felt the gentle pressure of his teeth come, once again causing you to dig your nails into his shoulders as he began to playfully nibble. “Taishiro…” you said with a soft whimper, but he only chuckled in response before pulling away. 
“Yes?” he teasingly replied as he took in your appearance. Your lips were slightly parted and your eyebrows were lowered, an overall desperate but subtle looking expression on your face. Of course, if he were any other type of person he would have continued to taunt and tease you. 
Instead he leaned down once more, allowing his thumb to stroke the side of your warm cheek as he exchanged yet another short kiss with you. “Lay down dumpling,” he stated as he pulled his hand back. You were all too happy to oblige though Taishiro being the protective person he was, guided you.
With one hand across your waist and the other supporting your head, he made sure you were laying flat and secure against the counter. He then walked over to the furthest side and positioned himself between your legs. “Ya alright?” he questioned as he leaned over you. 
He cautiously placed his hands on your hips and despite your heart pounding in your chest as it often did during these moments, you nodded. “I’m glad to hear that,” another smile came as he leaned down and proceeded to bury his face into the front of your shirt. 
“Ah!” you couldn’t help but jump when he yet again decided to sniff you, taking a long deep inhale that caused the fabric of your shirt to wrinkle. However, this only lasted a moment before he lifted his head back up. 
“I can’t get enough of that scent,” he said before his hand reached for the bottom of your shirt, naturally you couldn’t help the way your body tensed up which Taishiro immediately took notice of and came to a pause. 
“Oh sorry,” he said with a slightly shameful look as if he were truly worried he had done something wrong. “Is it alright if I lift your shirt up? I wanna see that cute little tummy of yours,” he stated, once again buttering you up with compliments. 
“I also wouldn’t mind tasting more of your skin,” he added with a playful smile, “and it’s all thanks to that perfume of yours, I still think ya are a little devil teasing me like that. But I guess I’m teasing ya right back,” a nervous chuckle passed your lips and you couldn’t help but glance away, feeling your cheeks grow hotter. 
“S-Sorry,” you said, of course you weren’t. If this is how certain perfume affected Taishiro, you didn’t mind. Still, when you glanced back at him you took note of the way he shook his head. “No need for that sorry,” he said as he proceeded to pull your shirt up, stopping only after your stomach was fully exposed. 
“I’m looking forward to the next time ya drive me this wild dumpling,” he allowed his hands to rest on your hips before he asked, “Are ya ready?” and when you yet again gave a nod, he leaned down to press hungry, sloppy kisses across your stomach. 
You couldn’t help but squirm at the feeling, but Taishiro didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it was almost like he was in overdrive with expressing his affection for you, your taste on his tongue, and that sweet sweet perfume invading his nostrils. 
A soft growl came before he began nipping the skin of your stomach which had whimpers slipping past your lips. Of course, these only seemed to add fuel to Taishiro’s already roaring fire as he suddenly pulled away causing you to jump in surprise. You blinked, taking note of the way he looked at you. 
His breathing somewhat matching yours in deep shallow pants, but even so, you furrowed your eyebrows together. “Taishiro…are you ok-” before you could finish your sentence, you let out a surprised squeak when he proceeded to fall on top of you. 
His abnormally large arms were pressing against your sides and you found yourself staring into his eyes which held a certain desperation you knew all too well. “Dumpling,” he said, his voice slightly raspy and uncharacteristically weak. 
“Mind if I move another piece of clothing down?” he questioned just as you heard his stomach growl, “Huh?” you couldn’t help but glance at his stomach. Was he actually hungry or was this an effect of the perfume or even his desire to go further? 
Regardless, you nodded which made Taishiro smile. He leaned down, humming softly as he pressed his lips against yours. This kiss, unlike the others seemed a little heated and you could feel the way his tongue brushed along your bottom lip before he pulled back. 
“Thank you for wearing that perfume,” he stated before greedily grasping the waistline of your pants, and as he slowly pulled them down you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you decided to wear a takoyaki scented perfume. 
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Text
twelve hours, m | jjk | ... and now
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You have twelve hours to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you. He's about to get married. You're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. Long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. Nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
this is part ii | click here for part i | total wc: 23k
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse and graphic violence, including the reader becoming physically scarred and having panic attacks; rich, this bachelor party is on a fuckin' YACHT, the best man is LOADED; JK and reader interacted in high school; angst and fluff and feels; cheating; this is mostly smut XD; (in part i) high school smut + intense adult smut (fem reader, striptease, semi-public sex at school, nipple play (he's a bit obsessed with them), dry humping, m-masturbation, handjob, cumming on tits (and diamonds), cum-eating, mirror kink, spitting, tit fucking, m-receiving oral, scratching / biting / marking, penetrative sex, doggy); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV
non-idol!AU; film director!Jungkook x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader — ft best man, art trader!Kim Taehyung; dancer's bodyguard!Kim Namjoon and bodyguard!Kim Seokjin
> eyebrow pierced, tattooed, and long black-haired JK (with undercut) in a black suit because that's what we need in this life > look for TXT's 'you and me and the sky at 5:53' :)
--
time left: 06:49
No.
Don’t leave me.
It was the same then as it was now.
Jungkook reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. Her eyes widened, pivoting quickly on her toe, snapping her heel down and cutting the turn short, black skirt flaring out. The swift glimpse of her legs in the high slit, the gentle bounce of her breasts in the slinky fabric. Her manicured hair bounced, dyed blue-black and giving her skin a surreal quality.
He held on.
Please don’t disappear.
“What?”
Her brows knitted together. She didn’t pull her arm away, but she was steadfast in her posture, not letting him push her around. Not that he ever could.
“He asked me to escort you back,” Jungkook found himself saying. “If not for your sake, then for his peace of mind. I don’t want to be a liar.”
Her features softened.
His fingers around her arm, touching that soft skin once more.
I care. I care a lot.
Jungkook realized that, in a way, he had never moved past those classrooms, those touches, those kisses, those moments.
“You can let go now.”
She said it patiently. Always patient with him despite his overzealous and sometimes clumsy antics, putting up with it even when she didn’t have to. He looked into those eyes and found those walls were falling away, little by little. Winged liner, red lipstick, it didn’t matter, it was the same expression, defiant eyes and hint of a scowl on those lips. Ready to fight, but not him.
She was always a fighter and the opponent was always life itself.
“I don’t want to let go.”
He didn’t expect himself to say the truth, but he did.
She smirked, reaching up, her fingers covering his tattoos for a moment, placing them on the back of his hand. This warmth. This feeling. It was not the same as the rest, and he knew that now.
“Hm, well, you must realize this looks a bit awkward. You wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression, would you?”
Wouldn't want someone to see you talking to me, right?
“You will let me escort you?” he insisted.
She pried his hand from her arm and lowered it, turning the other way.
“You are welcome to do as you like. I won’t stop you, golden boy.”
-
time left: 06:41
He followed you, surrounded by moonlight reflecting off water.
It streamed through the windows, lighting the red carpeted hall along with the dim sconces. You found yourself stepping in each lighted square, avoiding the thin dark beams of the windows, a little game for yourself, like how children avoided the cracks in the concrete sidewalks, except you were on a lavish yacht wearing Louboutins with a handsome man in step behind you.
It was quiet and yet it wasn’t. Small sounds, footsteps, distant muffles of talking through the walls, the faint sound of bass as you walked away from the party, the sound of the ocean ever present, your own breathing.
Jungkook’s breathing.
Familiar.
Once yours.
You looked to your right, to the window, seeing his reflection. His profile, hands in his pockets, tattooed arm standing out against the black background of his clothes, dressed formally but always a bit sheepish about it, as if he wasn’t sure if it looked good on him, but it always did, even the school uniform. He still had the youthfulness about him, even as a man.
Your eyes found his and he was watching your face in the glass of the window.
You stopped abruptly, pivoting on one heel to face him.
Impulse.
Your younger self would have bristled, glaring, accusing the eyes and snapping, what are you looking at?
Jungkook started, realizing you had noticed, and tripped, his black hair suddenly disturbed and tumbling over his eyes as he struggled to catch himself, hands flying out of his pockets.
You caught one, lacing your fingers with his, and gripped tightly, yanking up.
He righted himself, gasping. Looking up, bent over and long legs awkward, somewhat like a fawn trying to get on its legs for the first time. Those big brown eyes, parted pink lips. Familiar.
Your joined hands fell exactly where the window beam was, shrouded in shadow.
“Something on your mind?” you chuckled, shaking your head.
He straightened. You loosened your grip on his hand, but he held on. You frowned slightly, raising your brows.
He swallowed hard.
“Can I hold your hand? Please.”
Back then, you would hold his hand, hiding behind corners and dashing past, holding your breath, light steps, leaping from shadow to shadow, bodies close, breath mixing. Showing him all the secrets of the school that you had found while wandering, a fun little game with a reward at the end, school uniform being shed, skin to skin, his body against yours, his heartbeat in time with yours, his lips on yours.
You shrugged and turned back around, his hand tightly around yours.
-
time left: 06:35
Jungkook held her hand.
In an instant, he looked down, staring at their joined hands.
This was different.
And then he saw them.
Scars, all over the back of her hand. He could feel the scar tissue on her palms too, lines on her fingers even though she was holding him loosely. He had memorized every centimeter of her beautiful hands from back then, and these lines were not here before. These were not scars from living life. These had been cuts, healed now, unseen from far away and even up close. Perhaps they had been filled in with tattoo ink in a color to match her skin tone so they were less noticeable.
No one would know unless they were holding her hand or looking for it.
Without knowing it, Jungkook clutched her hand tighter, a sudden ache in his chest.
He had found bruises on her sometimes.
I fell down the stairs. It's nothing.
He had found welts.
Stupid fight with some dumbass.
He had found a criss-cross pattern of cuts on her leg.
I tried to jump over a fence and fucked up.
He glanced at her other hand loosely by her side. The same. He could even see her palm and there were many, many lines, all over her palm, healed cuts. Drugs? But he knew it wasn’t. Not because he had a romanticized idea of who she would be in his head, but because that was the nice answer.
That was the reasonable answer.
“Oh!”
“Excuse me, miss.”
His eyes flickered upward to see a young woman in a short midnight blue dress pausing, looking from her to him, cheeks flushed, not being subtle about it. The glittery fabric picked up the moonlight, accenting her curves and long legs. Pretty.
But not sensual.
Not immaculate.
Not teasing and sculptural.
The grip on his hand tightened so much that he inhaled sharply, fingers nearly crushed by her hold.
“Have a nice evening,” the woman in black purred, edge of ice indicating the stranger to move along, or, more accurately, fuck right off.
Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, and yet.
His heart skipped two beats as she dragged him along.
He had no problem looking away from the other woman and fixate on the back of that neatly pinned, blue-black hair, graceful shoulders, corseted waist, swaying hips.
And her hand in his, not letting go.
-
time left: 06:22
“This is it.”
You turned to see Jungkook looking around, mouth open, gawking at the entrance of the intricately carved wooden door. It was one of the grander, first-class rooms. The red doors were much farther apart and the sconces here were glided with glass-blown lampshades, casting swirls of orange across the white walls, dimmed now from the late night.
“It was nice to see you again.”
It was, even with the bitter taste in your mouth that seemed to linger.
His eyes came back to you, dark brown and clear, focused on only your face, long black strands framing his cheeks, the small mole underneath his lower lip trembling.
“I hope you have your happiness now, Jungkook.”
You did.
You felt a strange, unmovable pressure on your chest. The time wasn’t up yet. You could still try. You could keep your hold on his hand and drag him into the room and hold him close to you, skin to skin, lips on his, and show him all you’ve learned. You could. You could see it in those eyes. He would follow you now, maybe because of the alcohol, maybe for old times sake, maybe out of impulse and bad choices.
You let go.
You let go, because you didn’t want to be a bad choice.
Not to him, Jeon Jungkook.
“You were my small happiness, back then,” you said softly, feeling yourself smile.
It was better not to have regrets. At the time, even you didn’t know how important he had been. The thought of being withdrawn from that school and not being able to see him again made you fight back for once, and it ended in the very thing you didn’t want. It fucked up your hands, it fucked up your life, but somehow you found yourself here now, in expensive clothes on an expensive boat with expensive tastes, able to make a choice between selfishness or selflessness.
Maybe you hadn’t changed much after all, since you found yourself choosing the latter.
You turned away and pulled your hand out of his.
Or would have, if Jungkook hadn’t grasped your hand tighter, yanking you back and shoving you against the door of your suite. Your hand automatically raised to push him back, but he put his whole weight on your body, sandwiching you between the door and himself, making you gasp, trapped between dead timber and muscular hardness.
Now his face was in your face, breathing hard, dark brown orbs shaking and shining with wetness.
You froze, lips parting.
“You were my happiness too.”
He was panting, warm exhale on your lips.
“Not a small happiness. The happiness.”
He squeezed your hand like you were going to disappear.
“I didn’t know then, but I do now,” Jungkook shuddered, towering over you even in your heels. He stared into your eyes. “Your smile.”
You blinked slowly, confused.
“Your smile. I’ve never seen it reach your eyes.”
Heart racing, suddenly breathless.
“Except when you thought I couldn’t see, like when my back was turned or my face was turned away from you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours, long black hair curtaining your faces, sending you back to the shadows. “I saw it though, in reflections. In windows. In mirrors. In those beakers in the science room.”
Was that so? Had that been you? You made it a point not to smile back then, because there had been nothing to smile about. But maybe… maybe when eyes weren’t on you, maybe when you yourself didn’t notice, but, somehow, Jungkook had noticed.
You realized that your introspection had diverted your attention from him, so you made eye contact again, airless at his closeness. Your eyes and his, lost in sweet dreams.
“I want to kiss you.”
He tilted his head and hesitated.
“I want to kiss you all the time,” he said to your lips.
His expression was clouded with shame. It was ugly. It made his handsome features ugly and you didn’t like that. You wanted to make it go away. You closed more distance, fingers pressing down on the back of his hand, your other hand raising and resting on his hip, lashes lowering.
“Then kiss me,” you said to his lips.
-
time left: 06:13
Jungkook kissed her.
From then and now, it was the same.
Euphoria.
But this time, it wasn’t clumsy with colliding teeth and too much tongue that did nothing, sloppy with no purpose. This time, his lips were soft at first and so were hers, breathing in each other’s scent. She smelled warm and musky, like blackberry and evergreens, expensive and lush, but somehow still her, still that girl from back then, comforting and intense, sometimes with the hint of metallic blood, but that never bothered him. Her hand on his hip, stroking it under the layers of fabric, making him shiver, caressing the back of his hand with her fingertips, delicate sigh in his mouth.
The faintest flicker of tongue on the edge of her upper lip, swiping down into his open mouth.
He moaned, feeling the strong wet muscle thrust into his lips, coaxing his tongue, teasing, pressing her body to his, breasts against his chest, their deep open necklines exchanging heat in the air between their skin but not quite touching, and he found himself letting go of her hand, reaching up to grab her breasts.
Her fingers closed around his wrists, forcing him to stop.
He gasped in her mouth, eyes opening.
“They’re not stress balls, Jungkook,” she snickered.
He was breathing hard, ribcage shuddering, heartbeat thundering in his ears, getting louder as he realized her red lipstick was a little messed up, feeling the stickiness on his own lips.
“You need to slow down. You can’t just grope me out in the open.”
His impatience spoke for him.
“Why not?”
His voice was low, octave deepened from lust.
Her lips curved into an amused smirk. “Oh? You have changed. You used to be so worried about someone seeing us. If anything, you should be more worried now, considering your beloved.”
“She’s not my beloved.”
She was still holding his wrists, but her head tilted, watching his eyes carefully. He sucked in a shuddering breath, feeling the guilt.
“We… we thought it would be a good idea. Because our friends told us we look nice together. It would help her career. I wouldn’t have to invest too much into it.”
He felt ashamed, but he didn’t look away because he didn’t want her to think he was lying.
“I never found a smile like yours. I accepted that I never would.”
Her eyes darkened.
“It’s dangerous, Jungkook. Ill-advised.”
He smiled and he didn’t know if it reached his eyes because his vision was blurry.
But he knew it wasn’t a lie.
“You always were. I should have chased you to the ends of the earth, even if you were only a ghost.”
He lifted his hands, hers with his, and cupped her face, running his fingertips over her cheeks, smooth and soft skin, transported back to that moment in the abandoned literature club room, her face cast in an orange glow, actually swirls from glass-blown sconces, but the past and present connected, turning it into rays from the setting sun that lit up her features, and he said what he had said then, because it was the truth.
“You’re really pretty.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You are.”
He leaned forward and kissed the side of her lips gently.
She chuckled.
“You really are something, Jeon Jungkook.”
Her hands let go and she reached into the deep neckline of her dress, plucking something from the corset. His eyes widened as she pulled out the key card from between her breasts, smirk dancing on her lips. She winked at him.
“A lady has many hiding places.”
She flicked her wrist and inserted it into the door, unlocking it without looking.
The door opened and they stepped into her room.
-
time left: 06:02
“Hnnnnnnngh…”
“Dude can snore.”
“Help me turn him to his side. Don’t want him to vomit in his mouth and asphyxiate,” Kim Namjoon grunted, helped by Kim Seokjin, jerking Kim Taehyung’s body to the side. They backed up and Taehyung immediately flopped to his back, snoring away.
Seokjin thinned his mouth into a line. “Seriously?”
“Ah, here, let’s roll up the towels and use them to prop him up.”
“He’s not as cute as she is.”
“Well, she also doesn’t get piss drunk... ever.”
“Still a better cuddle buddy. Comes with built-in pillows.”
Namjoon blinked at Seokjin and shook his head, letting the odd comment slide. They managed to jam the bath towels next to Taehyung and force him to lay on his side, placing a pillow in his arms that he immediately hugged, squeezing it tightly. The snoring lessened as well.
“Guess we should go back,” Namjoon sighed, rubbing the back of his short hair.
Seokjin scoffed. “No, we shouldn’t. They’re probably all over each other as we speak.”
Namjoon frowned, raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Really? I don’t know. She seemed very hesitant about it. She said she didn’t love him.”
Seokjin snorted, somehow still elegant with his handsome face. “You really believe that?”
“That’s what she said.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what everybody says when they don’t want to admit they’re in love with someone.”
“That’s also what people say when they are, factually, not in love with someone.”
The black-haired man raised his hands and held up his index fingers, wriggling them in the air and bending them ninety-degrees, squiggling them around each other and poking the tips together repeatedly. Namjoon blinked at him.
“What are you doing?”
Seokjin rolled his eyes as if it was despairingly obvious what he was doing. “A visual representation of what they’re doing right now.”
Namjoon contorted his face in confusion, raising an eyebrow.
“… Becoming worms…?”
Seokjin groaned. “Having sex, Namjoon.”
“… How is that…?”
-
time left: 05:53
The door to his dreams unsealed and they tumbled inside.
The orange glow of the hallway lights spilled into the room, bleeding into the cool glow that came from the open windows, curtains pulled back to reveal the shimmering sea and bright moon, a contrast of artificial dusk and true nightfall. She pulled him in by his belt, hooking two fingers under the leather, step by sweeping step, grace that made him breathless, orange and silver and shadow, all mixing together, and then the door closed and then the sea and the moon replaced the sunset dreams.
It was a heavy thunk, closing with finality.
The room had many ornate mirrors in it to make the room seem bigger. The had gold vintage frames of different shapes and sizes, reflecting the contents of the room, the large bed and red silk sheets, the black leather chairs and black marble table bolted down to the floor, the matching marble vanity laid out with several black leather cosmetic bags, all zipped up neatly. The had small details on them – red zippers, silver locks, the designer logo engraved into the leather. The suitcases leaning against the wall matched the cosmetic bags, three of them, one larger than the first two.
Jungkook breathed her name, raising his hand, fingers spread.
Her fingertips touched his, halting him.
“Let me do it.”
He spied his expression in one of the mirrors.
The silver moonlight lit up his face and his eyes, reflecting the lust and trust in them.
He looked back to her and nodded.
“Okay.”
Glamour. Fantasy. Descent.
That was the only way he could describe the way she moved, glamour in the way her hand slowly retreated from his, a steady wave and sweep, clearly deliberate. Even in smeared lipstick, the small smirk was present on those lips, stepping around him with a swing of her hips and gentle clicks of her black patent leather heels, the slinky fabric flowing with her actions and also clinging to her body at the same time, using the arc of her stride to spread open the high slit. Letting him watch. He almost turned to follow but she placed a few fingers on his arm, purring softly.
“Don’t move.”
Fantasy, the way she slipped behind him like a shadow, and then Jungkook had to look up into the mirrors, catching glimpses of her behind him. There was no music, but she moved as if there was. If anything, the sound of the waves seemed to form its own music, and he was suddenly more aware of it, the splashes against the hull of the boat mixing with the bass of his heartbeat and the wispiness of her breath, stepping up behind him, body heat making him gasp, looking into a mirror to his left, a window illuminating his right, her hands slipping between the space of his ribs and upper arms, fingers spread like wings, warm exhale on his neck.
No words.
Just a simple kiss to the base of his head and her lips murmuring his name on his skin.
Descent.
One by one, teasing the buttons apart, her fingers ghosting the exposed skin, his heart racing as he watched those hands, peeling apart the button placket, unwrapping him like a decadent sweet. He watched his own expression framed by long curls of black, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, small mole below quivering, seeing more and more of his chest being exposed, somewhat self-conscious, but there was something spellbinding about only being able to see her hands and forearms, pointed black nails decorated with crystals that caught the light, undoing all the buttons until she reached his pants.
“I can–”
“Shh. Don’t let your impatience prevent you from enjoying your own striptease.”
His cheeks heated a little and he lowered his hands, breath hiking as she firmly gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it out. Jungkook took a step back, his back hitting her chest, and gasped again, feeling the softness, but she adjusted her position so her body wasn’t touching his anymore, chiding him playfully.
“Never had someone take off your clothes, Jungkook?” she chuckled against his neck, making his hairs stand on end.
“Ah, well…”
He watched those deft fingers undo the last two buttons. Then they spread apart his black shirt, reaching in, fingertips spreading out over his abs and pecs, tracing the contours of his muscles, switching between her nails and the pads of her fingertips, prickling and dainty. He couldn’t sure her face, but he saw his, and only now registered his own moans, so absorbed by her sensual movement and her touch that he didn’t even realize the embarrassing sounds falling from his lips.
“Not… since you…”
She snickered. “Seriously? What fool wouldn’t want to tear the clothes off this lovely body?”
He could feel and see his flush in the mirror. He looked away quickly, down to her hands exploring his body. “Well, I just… figured it’s easier if I do it. No one has ever been like you.”
“Hmm.”
His hands raised. He traced her knuckles, causing her to pause, caressing small circles on his sternum.
“You want to tear the clothes off my body?” he breathed, not daring to see his own reflection and know his reaction to whatever her answer was.
“I do.”
He placed his left hand on hers, heart beating faster and faster.
“Not tonight though.”
He pulled her palm away from his racing heart, not wanting her to know her effect on him, letting it linger beside his ribcage.
“Tonight, I will show you all I’ve learned, because I was always a better student than you, class representative.”
He found himself laughing a little, suddenly sheepish. “Yeah. Your name was always in the top five percent. I was pretty bad at school. I don’t know why everyone voted for–oooh…”
Her fingers touched his nipples, rubbing delicately, sending strange shivers all over him, shallowing his breath, making him look up and see his dark nipples being teased by expert hands. Her nails nicked them lightly and he whined in his throat, feeling them harden against her fingertips, surprised at the arousal from the simple touch, something he never paid attention to or cared about. His hair was covering part of his face.
Jungkook reached up and pushed his hair back, pressing his chest into those hands.
Saw one of her eyes behind his head, sharp and sultry with winged liner, twinkling as she watched him.
“I voted for you because I thought it would be funny since you weren’t even trying.”
He didn’t really have a response for that, too busy looking at his own face and body, shivering as she tweaked his nipples and pushed them in slow circles, his arms descending to lower the shadows, letting them suspend by his sides.
She shifted beside him and half of her lips appeared, on the toes of her heels, whispering close to his ear, seductive and dark.
“You were good-looking then, and you’re even more handsome now, Jungkook.”
The sound of the ocean, the silver moonlight shining off her blue-black hair giving her skin a surreal quality, almost doll-like, the mirror reflecting his expression, desire and anticipation.
She removed her hands and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking it down.
He inhaled sharply and her face disappeared.
Dress shirt stripped from his body and flung away, the crisp black fabric flaring out, a shadow cast aside.
Jungkook spun around.
-
Does this man know the meaning of calm the fuck down?
You rolled your eyes inwardly as you witnessed Jungkook turn around, facing you again even though you told him not to the move. He had always been like this, overzealous, but he didn’t seem as clumsy as before, although…
He grabbed your tits.
Hah.
He blinked rapidly, surprised. “Huh?”
You shook your head and knocked his hands away, sighing. “Pasties, Jungkook. To cover my nipples.”
You reached into your dress and scooped your breasts out, trapping them between the v-neckline. His eyes bulged slightly when he saw the smooth black satin circles flush to the apex of your breasts. They fit perfectly, seamless so they were unseen even under the slinky fabric of the black gown.
“W-Whoa…”
“What? I’m a burlesque dancer. Of course, I have fancy nipple covers. This is basic wardrobe.”
He tilted his head. “I’ve never seen any like these. They look like they’re part of your body.”
You tutted. “Obviously, they aren’t. You know I have nipples.”
And you reached up and peeled them off, flinging them aside carelessly.
Jungkook gasped, staring at your nipples with wide eyes.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen nipples,” you scowled. “You better not be a virgin with how hot you’ve become.”
His hands shot up and you grabbed his wrists again, forcing them back down.
Jungkook whined, eyes shifting back up to you, begging to touch them.
You stiffened slightly. What kind of reaction was that?
“They’re so big,” he whispered huskily, visibly shuddering, shaking with the craving to touch them. “I remember they were soft. And…” His breathing hitched, trembling in your hands. “I remember they tasted so good. Amazing. No one has ever tasted as good as you.”
His eyes flickered back down, biting his lip. He tried to break free, but you held. A single glance exchanged and you let go, realizing he was going to do something other than attack them. Instead, he collected the straps of your dress and pulled them back up, slowly, moaning as the slinky black fabric skimmed over your breasts, your prominent nipples sticking out, hardening from the light friction.
“Fuck, that’s so fucking sexy.”
Well, maybe he did have some appreciation for the visual after all.
“You see why I need the pasties.”
He pulled the straps up, whimpering as he watched your nipples strain against your dress, lifting your breasts in the confines of the fabric and lowering them, lifting, lowering, repeating the gesture.
You raised an eyebrow.
“Jungkook… are you bouncing my tits on purpose?”
His dark brown orbs darted to you. Guilty.
“Um… y-you won’t let me touch them…”
You weren’t sure whether to sigh or to laugh. You just shook your head, backing up out of his grasp. His hands were still outstretched, lips forming a small pout. You almost regretted it, but his expression quickly changed as you casually flicked down the straps, freeing your breasts again, dropping his hands and linking them together under his waist, waiting, now invested in what you had in store.
Oh.
He chewed on his lip and gave you an expectant look.
A flutter in your chest.
The side of your lips curved upward, tongue sliding out to graze the edge of your upper lip before disappearing.
You reached back, leisurely undoing the fastenings of the corset, sweeping your legs so the high slit flared apart, turning around, letting him witness the slow undress. Every action was deliberate, the wide arc of your leg moving the skirt aside to prevent you from tripping as you turned without using your hands, the wide stance of your feet to relieve pressure on your heels and to prevent the dress from sliding down too soon, and even the position of your fingers, poised so you could run a nail down your spine as two of them pinched the hook-and-eye and separated them, traveling down to the top of your ass. Every movement was thought out, details that made up the bigger picture, constructing your ultimate goal.
A sensual striptease.
You caught his reaction in a mirror to your right.
His sparkling brown eyes were wide, jaw dropped.
A lot of people had seen you take off your clothes, but no one made you feel as satisfied as Jeon Jungkook, then in his school uniform and now shirtless in his slacks, hands twisting in front of his crotch.
Then you saw your face.
You were smiling.
You really did smile when you thought he wasn’t looking.
Another glimpse at his face and you found him staring at you, silver moonlight glinting off his eyebrow piercing and flooding into his eyes, bringing out the stars within.
You released your hand and your dress tumbled to the ground.
He sucked in a shuddering breath, your name drifting from his lips.
“H… Holy shit…”
You did have an amazing waist-to-ass ratio.
Proper corset training and specific hit workouts to perfect your craft contributed. You couldn’t simply be pretty. You had to be strong and flexible to do the stunts and to walk in your red bottoms for the entire performance. Christian Louboutin didn’t make his shoes to be comfy. He made heels to make feet look enticing and sexy.
The price to pay for glamour and vanity.
It did give you some powerful calves though.
You lifted one shoe, flashing that blazingly red sole of your heel, balancing on one leg for a second.
This was to prevent you from getting tangled on your now fallen dress. You tightened your core, shifting your weight, knowing it would give Jungkook an irresistible view of your plump derriere in your high French-cut black satin panties, the particular style adding illusion to the already stark proportion.
In short, your ass looked fucking fabulous.
You stepped out of your dress, one leg, then the other, taking care not to step on it, adding a little flourish of your hands to create those body lines, ever the performer. You glanced at the mirror and was pleased to find Jungkook hadn’t moved, although his hands were now firmly open, palms down on his crotch, whimpering in his throat.
“Soon,” you promised, and you would keep it.
He nodded, swallowing hard.
You turned your fingers inward, hooking each index finger on the sides of your panties, rocking your hips slowly, lowering your lashes, following the beat of the sea, tugging down the right side a few centimeters and then the left, listening to his breathing and controlling yours. You bent over slowly at the hips, sticking your ass out, listening to his low moan as your glistening slit was revealed, sliding your undergarments down your thighs and calves, placing them carefully onto the floor.
You gradually straightened, breathing out, keeping it as one smooth motion.
You stepped out of your panties.
Now you were clad in only your black patent Louboutins and black diamond choker.
This time, you found your reflection in the mirror to delicately correct your smeared red lipstick with your fingertips. Good enough. You nodded at your reflection. The corners of your mouth curved upwards.
You turned to face him, showing Jungkook your smile.
-
This smile was real.
The smile she only showed when she was with him. He didn’t know if that was a valid thought or not, but he liked to think so. Besides, no smile meant as much as this one. That he was sure of, because he had been chasing this smile for all these years before finally accepting that he would never find another one like it. It was too precious to belong to anyone else.
His smile.
If his dick wasn’t trying to rip open his pants, Jungkook might have cried seeing it for the first time.
He couldn’t speak, too afraid he was going to lose it right then and there.
She walked towards him.
No, walk wasn’t the correct word. Strode, strut, glided, fuck, he didn’t know, she just moved as fluidly as a shadow and water combined, silver moonlight glistening off her skin and her diamonds, and he knew he would never love the mere act of walking more than when he watched her move.
She stilled.
He stopped breathing.
Her foot raised, toes tracing the inside of the heel, raising the pointed toe, balancing it on the stiletto, and she flicked it backward, causing it to tumble and somersault backward, falling to its side.
Fuck.
She thought of everything.
She balanced on tiptoe and did the same to the other shoe, discarding it with a swift tick.
He made a less-than-elegant noise of her name mixed with a needy whine.
“P… Please…”
Jungkook was quite sure he was a hair’s breath away from ripping off his pants to get some relief.
She finally made her way to stand in front of him. Smile so close now, emphasized by painted lips.
Her hands closed over his, peeling them away from his crotch, holding them loosely. She leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. Deep, meaningful, nothing flashy. Drew back, still smiling.
This smile.
He wanted to protect it forever.
“I should have told you that I love you, but I didn’t know it then,” he whispered.
She chuckled.
“I know now.”
She was lowering herself as he spoke, tilting her head at him, inviting him to continue. Getting to her knees, positioning her feet right under her ass, neat and orderly. His hands dropped, leaving hers on his belt, undoing the buckle, her gaze still on him. Looking up at him with amusement, diamonds glittering on her throat, perky tits and nipples, thighs on display, kneeling in front of his crotch.
“I love you.”
Jungkook meant it, every syllable.
He never meant it more in her life.
“I know.”
What?
She casually undid his belt and slid the closure open, unzipping his slacks.
“Wait… what?” he sputtered, blinking rapidly.
“I know you love me,” she repeated calmly.
Jungkook had time for a single blink before his pants were yanked down to his knees. He started, almost falling over, but her hands came up behind his legs and gripped them, keeping him upright.
“Careful,” she purred, stroking the backs of his thighs.
He jerked his head down, hardly able to breathe, shock blossoming as she leaned forward, hot breath warming his black boxer briefs. Eyes on his face, pink tongue extending.
“O-Oh, fuuuck…”
She planted her tongue over his hardness and soaked it with saliva, wetting the fabric and tracing the outline, molding his underwear to his length, sending him into gasping shivers, heat from her tongue and then her lips closing, blowing a cool stream over it, hot and cold, sensation and deprivation, too much and not enough, placing kisses all over and he flinched with every one, savoring the feeling, the touch that was familiar and unfamiliar, everything he wanted.
“W-Wait… that’s dirty…”
“Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.”
Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.
Pants racking his torso, looking down, and it was the same but different, her lips kissing up his abs, his chest, back to his face, holding him to her, lipstick smeared and now on his skin. Open mouth to elegantly parted lips, gasping as she collected her breasts and pressed her nipples to his chest, squashing the softness to his pecs.
“Spit on my cleavage,” she breathed.
“W-What?”
She raised an eyebrow, knowing that he heard her perfectly well, squeezing her breasts together and rubbing them on his chest, sending the electric sensation of her large nipples dragging across his heartbeat, rolling her shoulders to the beat of the sea, bathed in silver moonlight.
“Spit on my tits, Jungkook.”
“I… c-couldn’t… do that to you…” he moaned, pitch hiking with pleasure.
She didn’t chide him to cover his mouth this time, instead smirking wider, licking her teeth. “Sure, you can. Do it, golden boy. Spit on me.”
She hooked a leg over his hip and grinded her crotch to his wet one, causing him to whine, knowing his cock was so close to her pussy but not yet skin to skin, the soaked fabric barrier driving him insane, his hands coming up to grip her waist and press her down on him, staring into her eyes, inhale shaky and erratic.
She smiled, teasing, sculptural, his.
“You trust me?”
Jungkook was drunk on something he didn’t understand and it was love.
“Yeah…”
He leaned forward, capturing her lips, an intense, burning kiss. She smiled into his kiss, and he knew she was aware of his nervousness, but she remained patient as she always was, pressing back daintily, taking his breath away. He broke apart, trembling.
She nodded, telling him it was okay.
He collected saliva at the tip of his tongue and looked down, spitting into her cleavage.
It shot out of his mouth, splattering over the swell of her breasts and onto his own chest. His ears burned, self-conscious at the dirty act, but she moaned deliciously, backing up, his saliva dripping down and stuck to the inside curve of her breasts. He had a moment to appreciate the image, the most beautiful woman in the world with her diamond choker and his spit on her tits glistening in the moonlight reflected by the sea.
“Wow.”
That was all he could say as the image burned into his memory.
She smirked, falling to her knees, tugging his black boxer briefs down his thighs, his stiff cock popping out, bobbing in the air at the suddenness of its release, and then trapped once more, except this time not in drenched fabric but in her soft, saliva-covered breasts – or his saliva, depending on how he thought about it – but he couldn’t think about it, abrupt pleasure shooting up his spine, throwing his head back in a moan, eyes darting everywhere, surrounded by mirrors, reflections of his face, his long black hair a wild mess, his facial features consumed by wanton lust, his throbbing cock jammed between her breasts and her body sliding up and down, her large nipples rubbing against his crotch and thighs, oh, fuck, the sensation insane, soft and rough and wet, her perfectly pinned hair leaving only the curls at the ends bouncing from her effort.
She spit down his length, adding to the lubrication and her name burst out of his mouth in an erratic groan.
“F-Fuck…!”
She pushed his cock up, almost uncomfortable, but then her mouth closed around the tip, tongue swirling, and he was lost again, ecstasy as she switched to blowing him, pressing her breasts to his thighs, smearing the saliva on them too, covering his cock in red lipstick, soaking every centimeter with saliva, running her tongue over the veins and the head, his hands clenching into fists, close, so close, and then she popped her mouth off, leaving him near tears and in whines.
“P-Please, let me cum, please…”
“I want you to cum on my necklace,” she panted, planting his cock in her cleavage again, lacing her fingers over it, pressing the head down into the slick skin, shock of her words and the escalating pleasure, his chin lowering and staring down at glittering black diamonds and the engorged tip of his length popping in and out of her breasts.
“You want me to… cum on your necklace…?” he echoed hollowly, in utter disbelief.
“Fuck yes, I do,” she grinned, tip of her tongue flickering at the edge of her lips. “Cum on my diamonds, Jungkook.”
Well, fuck.
This was the worst surreal and hottest moment of his life.
He clenched his jaw and thrust his hips into her chest, adding to the stimulation, chasing it, seeing her grin grow, devilish and devious, squeezing him tighter, faster, faster, faster, his hands and his body shaking, gripped by pleasure and her hold, panting her name over and over, his prayer, his drug, his lifeline, trying to hold out, the line inside him pulled taut, thinner and thinner, snapping.
“F-Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
His hips jolted and he forced them upward, her head tipping back as the thick red tip popped out, twitching and splattering thick streams of white, painting the black diamonds with his white orgasm, clinging to the jewels and her collarbones, dripping down, covering her with his strong and masculine scent. She lifted her body, trapping his jolting cock in her breasts, and he moaned helplessly, rutting against her skin, sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins, uncontrollable flinching and shuddering as more dribbled out, milked out by the tightness.
“Oooooooh, f-fuck… fuck, I’m s-so sorry…” he gasped out, wincing at the mess he made.
“Ah, shut up, Jungkook.”
In awe, he watched her back up slightly, strings of his orgasm all over her breasts, chest, and diamonds.
She smiled and dipped her fingers in it, coating them with his cum and bringing them to her smeared red lips, licking them off one by one, pink tongue slipping between her elegant digits, moaning as she drank up his taste.
Eyes on his, drunk on him.
-
time left: --:--
Kim Namjoon leaned against Kim Seokjin’s shoulder, listening to the other man’s deep breathing.
They were sitting on the plush green couch in Kim Taehyung’s room.
The night was quiet, nothing but the sound of the waves coming through the open window, a light breeze as Namjoon watched the moon reflect off the ocean. Seokjin had already fallen asleep, head resting against the back of the sofa, tired from the day’s events and needing the rest. Namjoon felt the drowsiness beginning to weigh on him too, using Seokjin’s wide shoulder as his headrest. He had opened the window to prevent the room from getting too stuffy.
It would have been more comfortable to be in that giant bed with the one he was paid to protect, but he hoped she was in good hands now.
He smiled to himself, watching the silver moonlight dance off the choppy waters.
His mind went back to those moments, moments when he had to hold her shoulders and remind her of who and where she was, moments when he sat and waited as she clenched her teeth and a skilled medical tattoo artist filled in those white scars all over her hands, moments of when she finally sat him and Seokjin down and told them why she sometimes woke up at night, screaming and crying, yelling the names of past demons.
She had told them she was sorry, sorry for being weak, sorry for not taking responsibility.
Seokjin had scoffed, smacking her lightly on the head. “Are you an idiot? You have been through enough. Stop it with that nonsense. It’s part of our job, so let us do our job.”
After that, Namjoon would make it a point to check up on her at night, reaching over to soothe her brow as she slept, relaxing her face with gentle touches. He wanted to be there in case she woke up from a nightmare, and it became a habit, until Seokjin too elbowed himself in the bed, muttering that she always got the best digs anyway, so why shouldn’t he? He was handsome enough, after all.
They only accompanied her to events or appearances.
It bothered Namjoon to think that sometimes she was alone in her own home, waking up screaming and crying, and that he couldn’t be there.
He wondered what would come of this.
Jeon Jungkook.
Did he know that if he broke her heart that two ‘big-scary-dudes-with-massive-shoulders’ were going to find his ass and rearrange it?
Hm.
Namjoon closed his eyes, letting the night take him under its wing.
-
time left: error
The black diamond choker was on the vanity, covered in Jungkook’s cum.
Both of your clothes were on the floor, shoes, pants, dress, undergarments, strewn all over, a mess, along with a now cold, wet, white bath towel that smelled like semen and saliva. It had what was left of your red lipstick on it.
One of the designer cosmetic bags was open.
There were condoms scattered on the bed now, thrown over the red silk sheets.
Jungkook was holding your hands, palms up, tenderly kissing them.
It felt strange, his soft lips on your scars.
Most people didn’t realize it. It wasn’t something they looked for or thought to think twice about, because to them, your hands had always been like that. It would be rude to comment or mention it even if they had noticed.
But Jungkook had known your hands before they became like this.
“It’s why I stopped going to school.”
He kissed the pads of your fingertips, looking at you with those dark brown orbs.
“Did something bad happen?”
You smiled, somewhere between sad and apologetic.
“I wanted to make sure that I could still see you, but unfortunately I ended up doing the exact opposite.”
He squeezed your hands tightly, giving you his own smile. “Still, you came back to me.”
You chuckled ruefully. “Not with the best intentions.”
The silver moonlight highlighted all your favorite features, the cupid’s bow of his lips, the tiny mole underneath, the wrinkle of his nose with his smile, the stars in his eyes.
“You’ve always been dangerous and ill-advised for me, but I always liked that about you.”
You arched a brow. “Hm, you were a shitty class representative, huh?”
Jungkook shrugged. “You weren’t really a class delinquent either.”
You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. “Look at you. What kind of class presentative gets all these tattoos?” you teased, dancing your fingers up his right forearm and elbow, tracing the outlines of the script and graphics, following the swirls of the clouds and flower petals with your nails, listening to his shallow breath at your touch. “And an eyebrow piercing? Are you trying to tell everyone you’re one of the cool kids now?”
His lips twisted into a small frown. “Am I cool?”
You shrugged. “Every time I hear about the cool kids in our grade, it’s just about how they got knocked up too early or how they dropped out of university, so you tell me.”
“I haven’t gotten knocked up.”
You gave him a look, bordering on impatience.
“Wait, I mean–”
You raised a hand and planted it on his chest, pushing him down on the bed.
“Enough. Stop talking, please.”
You crawled over his body, placing your hands by his head, looking down at him. Jungkook stared up at you, long black hair splayed over the pillows. He was definitely a man now, sharp jawline, manicured brows, slight dark circles from long nights, and, as you leaned down, expensive cologne now, still light and clean but with a twist of sharpness and sweet fruit, still with the same warmth. Your lips pressed against his jaw, leaving kisses, sinking your weight onto him, skin to skin, his gasps under you, and now it seemed like you were back in that time, his teenage self and your teenage self, the same eagerness as his arms surrounded you, running his hands down your back, but now he added his nails, making you hum in approval. He did it more, scratching his nails over your spine as you kissed his jaw, his throat, his ear, jingling his earrings with your tongue, whispering against his skin.
“No one has ever been what you are to me.”
You didn’t bother using past tense, because it wasn’t.
You sat down on his thigh, his semi-hard cock twitching against your skin, turned on by your kisses and your tongue toying with his ear.
“You weren’t even very good, you know. You were kinda shit. Too impatient.”
He shuddered, tensing his forearms against your sides.
“I’m b-better now…” he whimpered, turning into a moan as you bit his ear and rubbed your wetness on his thigh, painting it with your juices. You kept it slow, leisurely, with even pressure.
“Still…”
You lifted your head, bringing your fingers inward, slipping them into his hair, pushing it back, caressing his temple with your thumbs.
“I have loved you all this time, Jungkook, even back then when I didn’t know what love was, when I was only chasing a feeling that was different from all the others.”
His eyes widened, stunned by your words.
“Ah, nevertheless, I came back too late.”
“No.”
His hands on your back, holding you tightly to him.
“I want to kiss you all the time,” he whispered, words from long ago, bringing them back. “And I will.”
He raised his forehead and touched yours.
“I know it’s not fair, I know it’s bad, I know it’s terrible, but I’ll be fucked up if you can’t be right here, with me.”
His lips to yours, small kisses and closed eyes, hiding his tears behind his lashes.
“You are the happiness, and if you continue to love me, I will never let you go.”
That’s what Jungkook said, but the sentiment was slightly interrupted by his cock being so hard that it was actually raising your thigh up into the air.
You smiled against his lips, chuckling.
“I guess I’ll bring a towel when you get her cocktail splashed into your face.”
“Maybe two. She has a lot of internet friends.”
“Hm.”
You lifted your head, smirking.
“Well, I can’t say it would be the first relationship I’ve ruined, although those were far more indirect.”
-
Jungkook tried to make the moment romantic, but her naked body was on top of him with her wet pussy rubbing on his thigh and his dick was coming back to life right in the middle of his speech.
Still, he couldn’t really complain, because at the moment he was ripping open a condom, on his knees between her legs, rolling it down, eyes roaming over her body lines, poised and elegant and sexy, her hair flared out on the pillows, still neatly pinned up, some kind of sorcery, but that didn’t surprise Jungkook, for she had always had her spell on him and he was better for it.
“You want missionary?” she teased.
He bit his lip, nodding.
“I want to watch your face.”
Her tongue flickered out on the edge of her upper lip, accenting the high point of her smirk.
“Good, then I can watch yours.”
He positioned himself in front of her, pausing for a second, unsure now, but she simply grinned and reached between her legs, one hand on his length and the other on his hip, digging her nails into his ass and shoving him inside her.
“Oh, fuck!”
She seemed highly amused, but he was gone, sudden tightness and wetness enveloping him, pitching forward and catching himself on his palms, sinking into red silk, the intensity bursting from his core and washing over him, shuddering and gasping as she gripped his ass with both hands and sank him down into her pussy, down, down, drowning in the feeling, diving into the depths of pleasure, fuck, he felt it everywhere, her walls clenching and wrapped around his length, the sensitive head rubbing against the ridges, and the emotions that rushed through him as he looked into her eyes, a little humiliated that it affected him so much, a little shocked at how good it felt even with the condom, and a lot of lust and trust and love, all rolling into one, and she purred his name, smooth and silky and gentle, and he couldn’t help himself, slowly rolling his hips and smacking down hard, burying himself to the base, eyelids fluttering, feeling it radiate over his body.
“Too... hard?” he choked out, trying to be considerate, desperate not to fuck up.
She shook her head, snickering.
“Not even close.”
“How can I–?”
But she didn’t let him finish, tapping the mandala flower tattoo on his right elbow and he raised his arms, at loss for words and breath when she raised her legs to his shoulders and tugged his forearms back down, his hands landing on the bed once more.
Oh no.
This was tighter.
“Fuck me, Jungkook, and make it rough.”
I can’t talk or I will blow my load in two seconds.
He nodded, tensing his jaw, and smacked his crotch down, her thighs smacking against his chest.
Oh, fuck me.
He wished he could sound less desperate and less ruined, but he simply didn’t have the capacity for that any longer, tumbling into a series of wild moans as he built up the pace, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into him, too much sensation, soft thighs, wet tightness squeezing his throbbing length, her hands on his upper arms, holding on tightly, his name falling from her mouth along with her erotic exhale. He loved every sound she made, every single one, her moan, her hiss, her growl, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, that’s it, give it to me, Jungkook, loved the way she looked at him, a mixture of bliss and slyness, loved the sound their bodies made, a harsh rhythmic smack, louder and louder, messing up the sheets, her head tipping back, eyes closing, fuck, yes, gonna cum if you keep going like that, so he did, hard, firm, powerful slaps of skin-to-skin, feeling so good but holding himself back, biting his lip hard and moaning in his throat, not willing to orgasm until he made her do so, at least twice.
Jungkook was being ridiculous, he knew, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost it too soon during his first time inside her.
“Mmm, fuck, Jungkook, fuck!”
A sharp throb and then a cascading effect, brutal massages of his length, and he didn’t even realize it, pausing for a second from the strength of her orgasm, his cock clenched all over and squeezed, shocking pleasure that made his eyes roll back, struggling with every fiber of his being to not explode, edging himself by ceasing his thrust, and then he drew back and rammed back into her, clawing up the sheets to press her further down into the bed, nearly bending her in half, but she didn’t seem to mind, gripping his arms and raising her hips to meet him, deeper now, the head being constricted even tighter by this changed angle, him sucking in a deep inhale, smelling blackberry, evergreen, and sex, the sweet smell of her pussy, reminding him of sitting on the bus on his way home and catching that scent on his hands and clothes, not regretting it, loving her mark on him.
It was better now.
Better because he was actually in her pussy.
And better because her teeth caught the side of her lower lip, a second of lost control, lashes lowering, moan in her mouth, his name, his name, his name leaking from her lips.
“Oh, Jungkook…”
He would never tire of it.
Never.
It burst again, a lewd squelch, and the insides of his thighs were soaked with viscous honey, clinging to his balls, violent throbs around his jerking length and Jungkook was gone, gone, everything accumulating at the peak and shattering down, his deep moan flooding the room, shooting his orgasm into the condom as his quivering cock was clenched all around, unbearable euphoria that he welcomed, letting it consume every nerve and vibrate through him, a feeling he never wanted to end.
He let it swallow him, her ocean, her moonlight, her night, and he promised himself that he would never leave.
-
All in all, Jeon Jungkook hadn’t changed much. That was alright. It was clear that you both had unfinished business in the past that was being hashed out right now.
Through sex, because how else?
He was behind you, both of you kneeling on the bed, his breath on your skin, murmuring your name, wonderment and desire, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulders and neck.
“You can bite me, you know.”
He nipped at your skin experimentally. You pinched his finger on your upper arm, the little sheepish emoji on his middle right. He squeaked and bit harder. You hummed approvingly, lowering your hand.
“You’re turning me into a crazy person,” Jungkook mumbled to the curve of your neck.
“You were already a crazy person. You just pretend you’re not.”
“That’s not true…”
You gently peeled his right hand from your arm and yanked him forward. He inhaled sharply, hard chest hitting your back as you tugged his arm forward, curving it around you.
“What non-crazy person blacks out the inner part of their elbow and tattoos the bone on the outer part as well?” you accused, rubbing his muscular forearm against your nipples, smirking at his moan, his shiver traveling through your back and to the sparks of pleasure radiating from your breasts at the lovely friction.
“Um…”
That was as far as he gave you as an answer because he had no good answers.
“Mhm.”
His hand curved around your left breast and he ran his fingers over it, tugging at your nipple. You leaned into his touch, sighing softly. Well, maybe you had been a bit harsh. He had changed. Less clumsy now, attaining his own irresistible sensuality that he probably wasn’t even aware of, considering the wavering in his tone.
“You’ve probably had better than me, huh…”
“You would be surprised at the complete inadequacy of the human race when it comes to sex, Jungkook. Most people don’t give two shits about listening to their partner’s wants.”
He pinched your nipple and you moaned, rubbing your ass against his crotch.
“You always do everything I want and even things I didn’t even know I wanted,” he mumbled.
His cock was getting the hint with every rock of your hips, rousing at the soft friction. You listened to his rapid breathing, amused, the amusement turning into fond irritation as you felt his free hand slide between your bodies, tucking his hardening length between your ass cheeks, now slowly and non-discreetly humping you.
Well.
Can’t say you were surprised.
“You’re not that hard to read, Jungkook.”
He was leaking all over the top of your ass, ramming the head into your tailbone, now both hands on your chest, forgetting to answer, too absorbed in touching you, tugging at your nipples in time with his rocking hips, lips back to your neck, biting down and sucking hard, leaving marks. There was power in his hold, passion and desperation, a needy whine vibrating in his throat, faster, harder, pinching your nipples and rubbing the tips, pulling slightly, pleasure from his lips and his hands, your own reaching back and clawing at the small of his back, leaving scratches, yes, please, harder, mark me, make me yours, and you chuckled at his declaration, you were always mine, Jungkook, and he moaned your name in affirmation, licking up your neck, hot shaking breath ghosting your ear.
“Wanna fuck you from behind.”
You sunk your nails into his skin and brought your fingers outward, flicking your wrists to leave sharp lines of lust, his moan in your wake.
“Do it,” you drawled, voice saturated with need.
He pushed you down and your caught yourself with your hands, clutching fistfuls of red silk. You heard the rip of another condom and his groan as he encased his aching length, one hand on your ass, and you spread your legs, his knees fitting between them, the head grazing your wet opening and he slid in with a shudder, filling you up and stretching you out, a little pain that dissipated as he squeezed your ass with two hands, sighing with satisfaction with you.
“I know I said I want to kiss you all the time, and I do,” he panted, stalling.
You smiled, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Jungkook looked back at you and he reached forward, driving deeper into you, making you mewl for him. He plucked the pins from your hair, one by one, undoing the perfection, tossing them aside as he spoke, shrouding your shoulders and face with cool-toned black, surreal and glamorous.
“But I think I’ve decided I also want to fuck you all the time.”
You smirked. “You don’t take much convincing, I must say.”
He eased the last pin from your hair and flicked it aside.
You heard it fall to the floor.
That one wouldn’t be found in the morning.
He grinned. “Maybe I already knew you would be amazing.”
Instead of replying, you leaned forward and then smacked your ass back into his crotch.
Jungkook reeled, hand flying back to your hip, grabbing it tightly as you roughly pushed back into him, his natural response being to thrust forward, compounding the pleasure for you and for him, looking forward again and tipping your head back, letting go, moaning for him, his hardness twitching with your sound, loud and getting louder, bodies tangled, bed creaking, clutching your ass for dear life. You lifted one hand and brought beside your hip and Jungkook gripped your forearm, your body naturally dropping lower, deepening each thrust, and that was it, the uncontrollable need resonating in his deep voice, forcefully pounding you into the mattress, thighs, crotch, balls slapping into your lower half, carnal and wild and visceral, his name and your name mixing together, filling the room with the sight, sound, and smell of sex, so strong, fuck, he was so fucking strong, and so were you, a shock every time your bodies connected, until you were wailing with the ferocity of orgasm, squirming and clutching his forearm as he held yours, clenching around his length, but this time he didn’t stop, fucking you through it, gasping for air.
“Oh fuck, yes, fuck, do it again, cum for me again, fuck, feels so fucking good, feels like you’re choking my cock…”
And he brought it out of you again, your right hand punched into the sheets, your left in his hold, moaning for him, Jungkook, fuck, Jungkook, for him then, him now, him forever, ecstasy and elation, hitting a high you thought didn’t even exist, lust and trust and love, raising your torso and slamming your palm onto the headboard, rattling the whole damn bed.
“Fuck!”
Slamming back onto his cock and squeezing hard, Jungkook gasping at the suddenness of the harsh throbs around his length, jolting inside you and spilling another into the condom, your head whipping to the side, spotting a mirror and there he was, head thrown back, long black hair touching his shoulders, open mouth, eyes rolled back, chest shuddering, your name a shaky moan, holding you tight, his right arm travelling, wrapping around you and lifting you up, and then it was you in the mirror, your body against his, skin to skin, his dark brown orbs shifting down, feeling your eyes on him, and then he was watching your reflections, seeing your joined bodies, panting in unison, both sweaty and spent.
You smiled at him, lit up by moonlight and mirrors.
He smiled back.
And then his hand was on your chin and he turned your head to face him, tilting his head and kissing your smile, seeing it not its reflection but the real thing, no longer only when you thought he wasn’t looking.
-
time left: 00:00
“Oi.”
Jungkook didn’t recognize that voice at all. He concluded must still be dreaming.
A finger podded his temple.
“Oi!”
He started, but the arms encircling him pinned him in place, not letting him and his naked body leave the bed. Softness pressed against his back, bare nipples rubbing against his skin. He froze.
His dick was rock-hard.
A black-haired man in a black suit with a disturbingly handsome face was glaring at him.
“You animals made a fucking mess.”
“Go away, Seokjin.”
Jungkook squeaked, unable to talk because one of the hands holding him was dancing downwards under the covers, wrapping around his impossibly stiff length. He prayed it wouldn’t start moving up and down, but it did. Slowly. Not enough, but still too much, because he didn’t really want to get jacked off first thing in the morning while someone was very clearly assessing whether or not to cause extreme bodily harm to him.
Well, he did want to get jacked off first thing in the morning.
It was the bodily harm he was less enthused about.
The man named Seokjin squinted at him and it took every fiber of Jungkook’s being to not make a goddamn peep as her fingers ghosted the head, smearing slick pre-cum over the slit.
“I want to take a shower.”
“Then go take a shower. I left towels for you,” she mumbled behind Jungkook’s back.
“Namjoon’s in the shower right now.”
“Then order us some breakfast.”
“I sent Taehyung to do that. Also, it’s noon.”
“Couldn’t you order room service?”
Seokjin shrugged and Jungkook realized his shoulders were huge. “He said he had a friend who worked in the kitchen and was going to reserve us a table.”
She raised her head, resting her chin on Jungkook’s right shoulder and pulsing his cock with her right hand under the sheets. “Taehyung has a lot of friends, doesn’t he?”
Seokjin looked at Jungkook pointedly.
“Er… yeah. T-Tons…”
Those brown eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Jungkook suspiciously. “He seems like a dork.”
“I like dorks. That’s why I keep you around.”
Seokjin stuck his tongue out childishly and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Namjoon!”
“I’m done!”
“Finally,” Seokjin grumbled, walking off and yanking the bathroom door open, barging in unceremoniously.
“Gah!”
“Gah!!!”
-
“Oh, fuck, please, d-don’t…”
“It’ll only take me a second.”
You dove under the covers and Jungkook clapped his hands over his mouth, your grip on his twitching length moving fast and tight, rubbing your tongue on the hot head, and you were right, it only took a few seconds, and then Jungkook was hissing through his fingers, now, fuck, now, and your mouth swallowed his cock, not a moment too soon as thick spurts of his orgasm shot into your throat, coating the back of your tongue, savoring his smell and his thighs under your breasts, rubbing your nipples on the muscle.
“N-No, stop, stop,” Jungkook whimpered desperately, grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up, your head popping out, smirk on your lips.
You opened your mouth and showed him your tongue covered in his cum.
“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me…”
He hurriedly nudged your chin and you closed it, grinning.
Dangerous.
Ill-advised.
Jungkook grinned back at you helplessly, holding your smiling face in his hands.
---
some time later
“I have two towels.”
“She didn’t throw her drink at me.”
“Damn. I even seduced the bartender a little bit to get those plush cotton ones.”
“She asked if she could keep the ring so she could sell it and give the money to her secret, less good-looking boyfriend so he could buy her a new ring.”
“Oh. Wait, what?”
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “I said sure, because it wasn’t like the love of my life couldn’t afford her own diamonds.”
“Ah, true, true.”
“I might be slandered for a little while on the internet.”
“Nah, you won’t. Maybe for like, six hours. Then everyone’s attention span will be somewhere else. Also, your taste upgraded in their eyes, from social media influencer to burlesque dancer.”
You grinned, raising your hands to create a finger frame of your index fingers and thumbs, enclosing the handsome face of Jeon Jungkook, long black hair, silver brow piercing, dark sculpted eyebrows, big brown eyes, defined jawline, shapely pink lips, mole of his nose and cheek, and finally that perfect mole underneath his lower lip, appearing as he smiled at you, confused at what you were doing.
“Even though we all know you’re just a hopeless sucker for the class delinquent. Tsk tsk.”
His grin grew mischievous, walking over to you as you lowered your hands.
“Well, I was a shit class representative anyway.”
He leaned down to kiss you, smile to smile.
Twelve hours.
Sunset to night.
-
fin.
--
masterpost
724 notes · View notes
raggaraddy · 3 years
Text
Abduction.
My Cruel Kidnapper: Chapter one.
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Yandere! Jungkook
A/N: This is a detailed dark and violent non-con story. Please do not read if you are sensitive to any of the above warnings.
If you are new to this story, please go to the cover page for the chapter list and the story disclaimer.
Enjoy.  💜💜💜
Trigger warnings: Abduction, imprisonment, choking. 18+ readers only.
Next Chapter
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You walk the same route every morning and every afternoon and every single time you manage to kick your toe on the same uneven lip on the concrete slab. It's almost impressive how you are able to do it with such consistency.
Recently you have been walking home from work more and more in the dark. Right now, for instance, it's only 17:34 pm but because it's winter the sun's already set. Leaving you to walk through the patches of light provided by the street lamps. Luckily, it's only a short walk from the bus stop to your house. Half a kilometre or so.
Starting at the base of your street, you're looking along the slight hill that your house is about halfway up. More correctly though, it's your parent's house.
No lights are on. Once again you'll be home alone. You'll make dinner alone. You'll eat alone, and then you'll go to sleep in an empty house. You always feel so ungrateful to complain. A nice suburban life, no trauma, everything you needed was always provided. It's more than so many others have. It's just that you're lonely. And for a single night, it would just be nice to not have only the furniture for company. It would be nice to have anyone for company, really.
An icy gust of wind sweeps through you, the cold biting at your nose and cheeks. It's freezing tonight. And your mind just won't focus on anything but trying to stay warm. The hood from your jumper is pulled tightly over your head. You're trying to utilize it to its fullest and pushing your hands deeper into the jacket's pockets, while you silently wished you were already warm in bed. Flicking your head slightly, you intentionally make your hair cover more of your face. It's not an effective shield, but when you're freezing something is better than nothing.
You're tempted to run up the street in order to get home quicker. However, your backpack is zip-less and is sitting rather loosely on your shoulders. It would be just your luck that you would try to save a few minutes, only for everything to fall out, and end up being stuck even longer in the bitter cold. So, the slow trudge it is.
Through your distorted vision, you can still see the elongated shadows that stretch out in front of you. The lights from an approaching car washing your back. Half able to hear the engine sounds, although they are in heavy competition with the wind.
Past the roar of the wind, you catch the faintest change of sound in the engine and the brakes being quickly put into use. The headlights are no longer moving behind you.
Keeping your stiff little huddle, you turn to investigate. But you don't make it all the way. A rough pair of hands wrap around your arms, keeping them stuck in your padded jacket. Instinctually, you open your mouth inhaling deeply to scream but are suddenly yanked backward. It knocks the air out of you and reduces your scream to a gasp. Your feet stumbling to keep up as you're dragged in reverse. In the panic of the moment, you can only see the blinding white of the car's lights, the blur of the street, and part of a car door frame as you're heaved into the passenger-side seat.
Before you can free your arms a forearm presses across your throat pinning you back. Clawing your nails at the arm you desperately try to get loose. But there's no budge and not being able to breathe or move is making your panic worse. You're heart pounding in your head. Your only thought is to get free, get out, to run.
Your left arm smacks against the body beside you but it's quickly stopped and subdued. It's held low to your side with a distinct set of metal clicks catching your ear. As your arm is released, you immediately yank it upwards only to find it trapped to your side. Trapped to the seat. Finally, your throat is let go and your right arm is instead held. Flinging yourself forward you try to fight for any amount of space, only to have an elbow dig into your sternum, keeping you constrained. Your right arm is ripped down to your side and again you lose the struggle, the second group of clicks setting it in place. Your throat having been crushed, uncontrollably forces out deep chesty gasps and coughs in place of the screams you desperately want to make.
Having trapped you, your attacker steps back and you are able to move enough to look at them. Through your windblown hair, the dark, and the tears filling your eyes, you can only make out the outline of a man. Any specific details eluding you. He steps back, slamming the door on you.
Jerking both your arms up in rapid succession, you attempt to break the restraints. A sickening feeling of futility hitting you as you quickly realize they're not going to release.
At last, getting your breathing under control, you scream sharply in the darkness of the empty car. Hoping to attract attention. Frantic to get out of here.
Circling the front of the car the man's figure is flooded by the car lights. But they're too bright and they cover him with a white light, not making his features any clearer.
He opens the driver's side door and as was the case on your side no interior light turns on.
"Let me out!" You shriek, leaning away from him and into the door. Your panic and your screaming don't seem to bother him at all. He calmly gets into the driver's seat and closes the door behind him.
"Help!" You screech so violently that it scratches the walls of your throat.
This time, his head snaps toward you, his hand lunging at you, smacking a foul-smelling rag onto your face. Struggling and bucking you throw your head back trying to get away from him. Sure you know what happens if you don't.
But with every inch you move back, his hand follows. Pushing deeper into your skin, pressing more painfully into your muscles.
It's hopeless. It's too late. You can feel it happen a split second before it does. You pass out.
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450 notes · View notes
earlgreydream · 3 years
Text
injured.
| stucky x reader | fluff | smut |
anon requested. After so many pleads for Y/N to stay home and be safe away from the mission; she still goes on that solo mission. However, when an injury occurs, she fears that Steve and Bucky will forbid/get mad at her for going. So she tries to hide it. However, when lust take over the same night she comes home; shower sex is in play between her lovers and her. And during all that, Steve and Bucky find the injury on her body and question it. Yet all Y/N wants to do is finish what they had started... yet to bad, having overprotective boyfriends are just what she has.
cw: mentions of violence, injury
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“Shit,” you limped onto your jet, nearly collapsing to your knees on the floor.
The glass was cold and unforgiving, and you struggled to inhale, black bruises forming on your side. A sharp pain shot through your chest when you took a breath, and you wondered if your ribs were fractured, otherwise deeply bruised.
You hit the autopilot, sighing as the jet lifted and set for home. You laid back on the floor, unconsciousness clouding your mind. You fought it off, trying to keep your eyes open and focusing on breathing.
.
“Don’t go, Y/N. It’s a solo, Stark can send someone else,” Steve argued with you, knowing the dangers of sending you alone to Sokovian ruins to retrieve intel.
“You’re being ridiculous. I’ll be perfectly fine. I go on team missions all the time, and this is just intel. You worry too much,” you’d shaken your head, giving him a kiss.
Bucky was unsettled, joining Steve in his attempts to convince you to stay behind. You had brushed them off, excited to finally be assigned a solo mission. You were a newer addition to the avengers team, and you hadn’t had a chance to take a solo mission. It didn’t help when you had not one, but two overly protective boyfriends. With Steve being responsible for most mission assignments, you had been placed in groups— usually with both Steve and Bucky. You were aptly trained, but they still feared for you.
.
You laid on the floor of the jet, thinking about your mission that had gone horribly wrong.
Panic seized you as you realized that Steve and Bucky were going to lose their shit. They’d told you to stay home and you’d ignored them, and ended up injured.
What was supposed to be a simple intel gain, had turned violent when someone realized you were undercover. You’d managed to escape the sleazy club with the help of a local, but only after you’d been brutally beaten.
You had barely made it back to the jet, and now pain was flooding through your body, leaving you exhausted, and struggling to take shallow breaths. You ached, but the fear of Steve and Bucky banning you from missions was worse.
Steve could be an extremist, overly anxious about your safety. Bucky was much more level-headed and rational, but you doubted that even he would remain calm when he saw your bruises.
No problem, you just had to figure out a way to cover it up. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and you didn’t intend to let them find out.
Your brain spun through how you were going to hide it, coming up short with ideas. You pushed yourself onto your knees and iced the bruises, taking some painkiller that Stark kept on the jet.
.
You managed to get yourself standing by the time you arrived back at the compound, though you still looked a mess.
Stark greeted you when the jet opened, and you hurried onto the tarmac. His eyes widened when he saw you, and you swore.
“That bad?”
“Yeah. You look like death. What the hell happened?” Stark demanded, following you inside.
Luckily, Steve and Bucky were caught up on a mission somewhere else, and you had a couple of hours before they returned.
“Morozova caught on. Gave me a beating, but I’m fine. And I managed to get the intel you asked for. But Tony, promise me you won’t tell the boys!” You begged, and the inventor looked hesitant.
“I’m fine, and you know they’ll overreact. I’ll be more careful next time, but don’t blow this for me, please!” You pleaded, walking with him to the lab.
“Fine. But only because I owe you. And if they find out, you deny that I knew. Come on, let’s get you some help.”
You breathed a sigh of relief, thanking Tony and letting him inspect your injuries. He concluded all your bones were intact, and you didn’t have internal bleeding. He cleaned your scrapes and cuts, and told you to watch the bruising. It was clear you’d had the shit kicked out of you, your ribs, stomach, hips, legs, and back evidence of the assault.
“This looks painful. You’ll need to be careful, and no physical training until you’re healed up. Got it?”
“Got it. Thanks, Stark.”
He hummed in his annoyed, impatient tone, and you watched him go. You gave yourself a moment before walking to your suite, changing into leggings and Bucky’s vintage “Stark Industries” hoodie, knowing it would hide all the bruising. You fell asleep waiting for them, exhaustion getting to you.
.
You slowly opened your eyes when lips pressed against your forehead. The touch was familiar, and you tilted your head back to meet Bucky’s mouth.
“Hi, doll,” he murmured, smiling against your lips.
You sat up, greeting the boys and kissing Steve.
“How was the mission?” Steve brushed hair from your face.
“I got all the intel for Stark,” you smiled, earning proud grins from the boys.
“That’s my girl,” Bucky kissed your cheek.
You were thankful you hadn’t been dragged into their arms, squeezed and smothered like they occasionally preferred. You concealed your pain, reduced to a dull ache from the Tylenol.
“Let’s shower, calm down a bit?” Bucky offered, kissing your neck, making your spine prickle with need.
“I’m good, go ahead. I’ve already showered.” The lie slipped out before you could stop it, and Bucky drew away from kissing your neck.
He exchanged a look with Steve before turning back to you, steel and sky blue eyes narrowing at you.
“Y/N…” Steve began, but cut off, allowing you an opportunity to explain your lie.
“I mean, I just, don’t feel up to it…” you tried, shying away from Steve when he reached out to set his hand on your leg.
“Doll, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, worry flashing across his eyes.
“Nothing, honey. I’m fine,” you promised, touching his scruffy face and giving him a kiss.
“Then let’s have some shower sex,” Steve met your gaze.
You nodded, going in the bathroom first. You got in the shower, and they followed, seeing your body covered in bruises and scrapes.
“Y/N!” Bucky cried, lifting your arm and inspecting your injuries.
“It’s fine, really. No broken bones or internal bleeding.”
“What happened? Why didn’t you tell us?!” Steve raised his voice, making you sink back against the cold tile.
“Because I didn’t want you to get angry and forbid me from going on missions!” You defended yourself.
Both men tried to contain their agitation, not wanting you to feel like they were angry. Their fears became tangible, seeing you wounded.
“Sweetheart, you’ve been injured, we’re just worried. You need to tell us when you’re hurt,” Steve’s tone softened.
“I’m sorry,” you finally conceded.
“Don’t be. First of all, are you okay?” Bucky asked, tilting your face up.
“It hurts,” you admitted.
Bucky winced at your tone, understanding how much pain you were in. You abandoned your attempts to conceal it, and he could hear the agony in your voice.
“I’m so sorry,” he leaned down and gently kissed your bruises. Steve joined, and suddenly they were kissing all over your body.
Your hands went to Bucky’s hair as he kissed your hip, and sparkling grey eyes gazed up at you. Steve kissed your inner thigh, and you bit your lip, need pooling between your legs. Tingling started to spread through your body, and you were seconds away from begging your boyfriends to touch you.
Steve stood, towering over you from behind. Strong arms gently snaked around you, supporting your weight without putting pressure on the bruises.
“Steve-?” You looked up at him, but you tightened your grip on Bucky’s hair as his mouth went where you desired.
“Oh,” you breathed as Bucky’s tongue gently lapped through your folds, brushing over your clit.
“We’re going to be gentle, doll,” Steve promised, pressing his lips just below your ear.
“Going to make some of that ache go away,” Bucky mumbled against your heat, his speech sending echoed vibrations through your sex.
You gripped Steve’s arm, thankful he was holding you up, or else your knees would’ve buckled, weak from Bucky eating you out.
He reached up, gently brushing his fingertips over your entrance, gauging your reaction. Your muscles fluttered at the touch, trying to pull him in. He smirked against you, sucking on your clit and using his tongue to tease you. You fisted his dark hair, slipping between your fingers from being soaked by the shower, and you struggled to find solidity.
“James!” You cried, throwing your head back on Steve’s shoulder as Bucky pushed two fingers inside of you, stroking your velvety walls.
Steve gently groped your chest, teasingly rolling your nipple between his fingers. The boys knew how to get you off— and knew how to do it gently. You’d never been more thankful for them as you were in this moment, soft heat wrapping around your body, mixing with the steam of the warm shower.
Your eyes fell closed and you arched your sore back off of Steve, grinding against Bucky’s face before he coaxed an orgasm from you.
“That’s it, pretty girl, come all over Buck’s face,” Steve smirked into your neck. 
You cried out, yanking on Bucky’s hair and collapsing against Steve. You winced as he bumped your bruises, trying to catch you. He murmured out an apology, and Bucky leaned back under the water, grinning up at you. 
“Let’s get you clean, then you can rest, doll.”
You were so tired you could barely keep your eyes open as they helped you wash up, sending you to dry off so they could take care of one another. You offered to jerk them off, returning the favor, but Steve just laughed and kissed you.
“Go get in bed. We’ll join you in a bit.”
You didn’t argue, sliding into bed in fresh pajamas, printed with Steve’s shields. He’d gotten them for you as a bit of a joke, but you’d loved them, wearing them all the time. The boys’ dog tags rested under the button-down top, cold against your warm skin. You were nearly lulled to sleep by the hum of the shower, struggling to stay awake as the two boys returned to your bedroom, going to either side. 
“What happened on the mission, love?” Steve asked quietly, lying down with his face inches from yours. 
“I was in a meeting, getting the information that Stark wanted on the Hydra transfers. I’m not sure what gave it away, but General Morozova found out that I was under cover. He beat me, but a Sokovian helped me escape,” you explained wearily, sighing as Bucky’s arm went around you protectively.
“You’re safe now. Once you’re recovered, we’ll talk about future missions.”
“So you’re not banning me?” you asked hopefully, looking up at Steve.
“You’re too valuable, but you’re not going on missions without Bucky and I for a while,” Steve conceded, kissing your nose.
“I could be okay with that,” you squeezed them in a hug, ignoring the pain that shot through you. 
You giggled as kisses were littered all over your face, the three of you talking until you fell asleep. 
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