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bigmack2go · 25 days

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Their apartment is small. But it’s cozy and, honestly, they don’t need more. They’re on the second floor and when you come into theres the kitchen to your left and to your right there’s a little door in the wall to a sort of storrage room and next to it the entrance to the living room. Up ahead are two doors to the bedroom and the office. In between there’s the toilet and the bathroom. The hallway has a wooden drawer with a mirror above and the living room and the bedroom are connected by a little balcony with a door on each end.

Albert got to furnish it all. They agreed he has the best taste. Basically, Spot keeps it clean, Al keeps it pretty and Race keeps it existing.

The living room is cozy. Its small and full of pillows. And stuff. Next to the entry a the dinnertable is set into the room with the short side at the wall. They barely use it because its allways full of paperwork. Race’s paperwork because he’s the one who handles their finances since he’s the only one who’s sort of good with maths. It usually has a pink rose in a vase on it. They have a tiny, blue couch that barely fits a person, a cozy corner with one of those hanging thingys and a little wooden rustical table which is where they eat instead. Theres a lot of fairylights and hanging plants in that room. Spots electric guitar is in the corner that he doesn’t even know how to play. Its white. They have a little liquor cabinet with fancy glasses and a carafe. However they mostly use it for cofee and stuff. The second part is full of discs for the recordplayer thats on a little white chair on the opposite of the room. Speaking of chairs; they are very mismatched. Race uses a barstool, Albert has an office chair and Spot has a folding chair. They also have a hamburger “pillow” for Race and an armchair that only Spot is allowed to use. Albert has a beanbag. Theres also a little yellow pillow chair in the corner. A lamp stands next to the sofa and there’s a cat-tree behind it. They also have a little birdcage hanging around there but it’s always open so the bird can fly out whenever it wants. It’s not actually their bird but it flew in there one day and completely freaked then out. It took them a while to get it back out and it just showed up on their balcony again the next day. It kept coming back and they’ve grown quite fond of it. The cat and the dig get along with it too. They call it tweety because they don’t own a single creative cell in their body. They have a lot of candles and the three bigger christals that don’t fot in the shelf are on the windowsill, the dinnertable and the drawer that the TV stands on. Above the TV theres a little ikea shelf with another plant on top. Thats also where the rest of Racer’s christal-collection is. A little salt lamp accenting it. On top of the shelf there’s each of their childhood stuffed animal: Race had a simple teddy bear, Alberts was a bunny and Spot had a little spotted dog. Albert also has his guitar on the wall here.

Their kitchen is something else. Spots coffee machine is his whole pride and joy and its also the only place in there thats sort if clean around. You can barely move in there and no one knows how they find stuff in there, but they somehow do. Davey fainted the first time he saw it. That place is fucking loaded. With the most random stuff too. And when i say random i mean random. Most of they stuff they don’t even know where they got it from or, honestly, that they even have. That may or may not be related to the fact that half of it isn’t even theirs. It sort of replaces a storage room. Dont get me wrong; they have a storage room. Right next to their door to be exactly. But they also have a kitchen so theres that. They have two refrigerators for whatever reason. Both are always either so full they barely close or empty to the last crumb. The only thing thats never missing is grapes. They love grapes. And they always have grapes at all costs. Their toaster is really fancy and their microwave is one of those that looks like an old TV. They have a sort of concerning mug collection. Albert is only allowed to use the kitchen when they’re having chilli and Race is banned completely. It took them two years of procrastinating to clean it until they cave up and just accepted that this is just how it is. They have one of those old stoves that works with gas and actual flames.

They haven’t even installed a lamb in their office. Its just a single light bulb. They have a wall with fairy lights and photos, polaroids and memories. On another walk the have their future plans; a world map with all the cities they wanna travel to ine day and a globus on the drawer at that wall with little flags on it, possible baby-names, designs for a house to move in, rings they would want should Poly-Marrige become legal one day and hotels to stay at for their next vaccination. Their office is also where the rats live, the cat and the dog also each have their bed there and the cat has another (bigger) cat-tree.

Their bedroom is a bit more modern compared to the livingroom. At the corner to the window they have a little piano with a little soft chair. Albert loves watching Race and/or Spot play. Above the piano is another shelf with one part full of perfumes, bodysprays and Deodorants. Underneath is a big canvas of a coffee bean and the dresser next to it. The bed is opposite that wall; the far wall to the door on the windows side. Two nightstands that you may or may jot find their three champagne classes on in the morning infront theres a ting white polstererd bank. Above the bed is an LED sign reading “sex” in plain letters, they generally have a lot of led’s. A standing shelf parts their bed from a little sofa sort of thing thats right opposite the door. They have a hanging chair and some more beanbags and pillowchairs in there. The wall that’s on the end to the office has a mirror and a little table for them to get ready. Between the piano and the bed, under the window theres the cats bed and Alberts longboard hangs above the couch like a trophy. The room has a lot of plants because let me tell you, three men sleeping in one room starts to smell fast. They also have a little wooden table with a single candle on it that they never lit once because its really fancy. That table also has lights in it as to make the rustical look maych the rest if the room.

The balcony is small, even smaller than the bathroom. Its full of fairylights and they somehow made it into a little lounge. There’s another place for tweety to sit and kets be honest, Race probably hang up a “Jazz Cafe” sign. It’s perfect to view mannhattan and the brooklyn bridge.

#newsies #spralbert #apartment #trip #thin ice #modern newsies #this is for my au btw

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bluejay-writes · 1 month

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Heaven is a Misnomer - Chapter 10

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Rating: Teen Chapter 10 Wordcount: 3074 Characters/Relationships: Jake (Exchange student OC) / Raphael Summary: Jake learns some things about Raphael, and invites him to movie night at Azrael's.

Author Note: I am strongly considering discontinuing the full-text chapters on Tumblr. (Yes, because of the AI garbage.) If you're actually reading it here and not on AO3, send me an ask or reblog with commentary or leave a message somehow about it, k?

You can also read this on AO3, if that's your jam!

First Chapter || Prev Chapter || Next Chapter > (Next Tuesday!)

Chapter 10: I did it for you.

When Jake and Bunny got to the gym, someone was busily pedaling a stationary bike in the machine room. Jake was curious, but he didn’t automatically feel terrified, so it wasn’t Michael, and he decided to leave whoever it was to their workouts. Besides, if it was Fen or Gabriel, they might get spooked by Jake and Bunny barging in where they were working out, and the last thing Jake wanted was to spook someone out of taking care of themselves.

He’d shed the hoodie before they left, knowing that he’d be way too warm in it. The Celestial Realm’s ‘perfect 75 degree weather’ was actually a touch warm for jogging outdoors, given that he came from a cold weather climate. So there he was, in his demon-approved workout wear, stretching carefully before doing lunges with Bunny. It was leg day, after all.

That was the perfect time for the person on the bike to decide they were warmed up enough to come lift. Bunny glanced up and smiled at whoever it was who came in. Jake could hear them racking a few weights onto a bar, but decided not to be nosy, and just finished out his stretching routine. His politeness and commitment to privacy meant that he had no idea who was behind him when Bunny suggested they start with some lateral lunges - for stability, she said. That made sense to Jake, and it’s the same thing they started with last week.

Halfway through the set, Bunny’s phone starts ringing, and she grumbles, but moves smoothly from her lunge over to the shelf she’d set her phone on. While this is happening, a sharp gasp rings out from behind them, and the heart-stopping sound of a barbell hitting the floor and bouncing just that little bit causes Jake to turn around mid lunge in a panic, half to his feet when he realizes the person behind him lifting was none other than Raphael.

In what felt like a fraction of a second, Jake was in front of Raphael, checking him over top to bottom and then carefully looking at his hands to make sure that he’s okay, muttering quietly the entire time, mostly to himself except that he’s admonishing Raphael while he does it.

“You really should have someone spotting for you when you’re lifting like this, Raph. What if no one was here and you hurt yourself with that drop? You lift as much as Bunny does, with this body of yours, you can’t let it get hurt just because you’re a compulsive loner!”

Raphael caught both of Jake’s fluttering concerned hands in his own, and Jake froze and looked up at him, eyes wide. Why was this damned angel so tall, anyway? Like, Jake was tall to start with but Raphael made him feel short. Sure, it was only like two inches, but that was plenty when they were this close.

“I’m fine.” was all he said, and Jake realized what he’d been doing and how close he was to the discipline angel, pulling his hands away and backing up a few steps to give Raphael some space. Oh. Oh no, I even nicknamed him. Angels don’t like that. Go ahead, dig yourself deeper, Jakey.

Before either of them could say anything else, Bunny walked between them.

“Aya needs my help with something, so I am going to go check up on her. Jake, I’ll just do squats later, you should spot for this idiot before he hurts himself.” The gruffness of her tone did not match her usual chipper nature, and both Jake and Raphael turned concerned looks on her as she left the gym.

“Well.” Jake said into the silence that reigned after her departure. “That just happened.”

“It did.” Raphael said, and Jake realized his cheeks were slightly pink. “She’s not wrong. And neither were you. I should have had someone spotting for me. I know better, I just…” He trailed off, and Jake wondered what he was thinking that would make him lift like that without help.

“Listen.” Jake said quietly, as if a normal volume might change the situation too much. “I can’t spot you for what you’re lifting, I’m not strong enough. But I spot Bunny for 200s, if that’s okay? Smaller weight, more reps?”

“Yeah.” Raphael said, matching his volume. “I could do that.” After a moment, he took the extra plates off of his bar, carefully checking them for damage before racking them.

“Actually, if you’re spotting, can we do bench?”

“So.” Raphael said, once they were settled into a routine. “I didn’t take you for a lifter.”

“I’m not.” Jake said, plainly. “Bunny asked me to spot for her right after the program started, and she’s been training me ever since I agreed the once. It’s actually been good for my anxiety. I feel safer, for whatever reason.”

“You can fight back, if you’re stronger.” Raphael said, and Jake sensed that he was saying it with understanding, not just theory. Moments later, he confirmed that with what he said next. “I used to be really afraid of almost everything. Then I started training, and it got better, knowing if I needed to, I was strong enough, fast enough. That I could protect myself. Now, it’s just habit.”

“But you’re the angel of discipline.” Jake said, confused. “Aren’t you like, the strongest?”

Raphael laughed, a mocking bark of a laugh that Jake wasn’t expecting. “That’s my title. Mostly, I like to rain spears down on people. It’s fun, and I’m more than a little bit deadly with one. But I’m not the strongest by far. I’m just Michael’s attack dog. The one he sends out if he needs something… handled.”

Jake shivered. He understood that laugh a bit, now. But it made him a little more uncomfortable with Raphael living next door.

“So you moved in next to me in case I needed that extra bit of discipline.” He said, eyes firmly on the bar, and not meeting Raphael’s.

“No.” Raphael said, racking the bar and sitting up so he could meet Jake’s eye. “That’s not it at all. I asked Michael to let me handle the exchange program because I was worried about you.”

“Me?”

Raphael looked away for a moment, his cheeks darkening just slightly, before meeting his eyes again. Jake didn’t know how to take that at all.

“You, especially. But everyone else, as well. Michael has… a temper. A need to control. And you were pushing his buttons constantly. And as a normal human, he can’t force a covenant to make you toe the line.”

“Azrael said something similar.” Jake said, nodding.

“I knew, if I offered to handle it, he’d relax. So… I’m handling it. Which mostly means just being around in case anyone needs anything. The most it is for me is a smaller room for a year. I can cope.”

Jake chuckled. “Well, if you ever need more space to relax or work on classwork, I have way more space than I need, just knock.”

“Jake, thank you.” Raphael said softly, as they got back to the hallway that led to their rooms. “I really appreciate you being willing to spot me.”

“Anytime, Raphael. Seriously, I actually enjoy spotting for you strong folks. It inspires me.”

They parted ways, and Jake took himself through the shower, spending far too long thinking about a certain ash-blonde angel.

Jake was bouncing around his room, gathering things he’d need for the movie night they’d planned. It was the sort of low-key fun that he and Nia always had, and he was pleased to have made a few good friends here in the Celestial Realm so that they could spend one of their rare off-nights doing this.

“Jake?” Raphael’s voice called from his doorway, and he turned to see the angel, leaning casually on the doorframe.

“Hey Raph.” Jake said, and winced as he saw the light pink appear on Raphael’s cheeks. “Sorry. Raphael. What can I do for you?”

“Well.” He said quietly. “You don’t have to stop calling me that. Just… I won’t be able to respond to it in front of Michael, okay?”

“Really?” Jake grinned, his entire face lighting up. “Thank you.” He couldn’t really explain just how much that meant to him, but he hoped that Raphael understood. Either way… that was two angels who accepted his nicknames. Out of three angels he’d reasonably call his friends, that felt monumental.

“Yes, really. Also, I… got this for you.” Raphael was holding a hoodie that did the same gradient from blue to gold that the undersides of his usual angel attire did. “I’ve only worn it a few times, but I thought you might enjoy having a hoodie that didn’t require you to make sweater paws just to function.”

Jake could tell that his cheeks were red, because they felt like they were on fire. So did his ears. He walked over and took the hoodie from Raphael, immediately exchanging it for the oversized purple monstrosity he’d gotten from Bunny. It was impossibly soft, and while still a little bit large for him, it was in the “this is my boyfriend’s” way, and not in the “I stole this from a giant” way. Aaaaand Jake had probably better not think of it in the stealing clothes from his boyfriend way either. Friend, though… friend was good.

“Thank you.” he said, eyes shining as he looked up at Raphael after half-zipping the hoodie. “It’s incredibly soft.” He paused a moment, and then followed his heart. “You wouldn’t want to come to movie night in Azrael’s room tonight, would you?” Jake was still rather surprised that she even left her room for classes. Suddenly, Jake wondered when she did her angel of death bit, if she was always in her room. Well. He could ask her later.

“Am I invited?” Raphael said, looking a little bit stunned, which given his propensity for non-expression meant that he was very stunned.

“Of course! Movie night was my idea, so it’s my party. We’re just having it at Azrael’s room because she’s a hermit who doesn’t like to leave her room unless someone insists that she must.”

“Fair.” He said, his expression once more neutral. “I’d be happy to come along.”

Jake was excited to get to spend more time with his new friends. It was ostensibly movie night but he had a feeling they’d probably end up playing a game or something that allowed them to chat more, once the movie was over. Hopefully bringing Raphael along wouldn’t be a problem, but he’d smooth it over if it was. They all seemed like they’d get along just fine if Michael weren’t involved, anyway.

Jake swanned into Azrael’s room like he owned the place, Raphael trailing after him a bit like a lost puppy. Bunny and Aya were already there with Azrael and Feniel. There was one spot left on the couch for Jake, they clearly hadn’t been expecting him to bring along a wayward Angel of Discipline.

“Hey, fam! I invited Raphael to join me!” he said, plopping down next to Feniel. Aya and Azrael were in the lounge chairs, with Bunny holding down the floor next to Aya’s chair, since she took up the whole couch by herself if she sat there, and she was perfectly happy with a pillow and the floor.

Raphael took one look at the way the room was arrayed, and settled himself on the floor in front of Jake, leaning against his legs. Jake knew he was blushing, but luckily Raphael was looking the other way, so he would never know.

Azrael was the first to recover, and she just laughed. “Trust the wayward Human to bring their own plus one. It’s fine though, Shiny turned us down, she’s working on a paper tonight that she failed to work on for the last three weeks. Her loss, we’re watching Howl’s Moving Castle tonight.”

Jake grinned. This was one of Nia’s favorites, he’d have to message her about it. He pulled out his phone, and once he’d messaged her, his phone beeped with three incoming messages.

“Oh, better put that on silent.” He said, somewhat breathily at the messages in front of him.

Aya > Jake: Nice new threads - steal them from your boyfriend?

Feniel > Jake: Raphael? Really? How’d you tear him away from his Michael worship?

Raphael > Jake: Please do tell me if I am being too familiar. I wanted to follow Yboun’dih’s lead in sitting on the floor, and I thought you’d be most comfortable with me in your space, when compared to Feniel and Azrael.

Azrael had turned the lights off with voice commands (a neat bit of tech, but also somewhat creepy) so Jake knew he couldn’t respond on his phone, so he did the best he could otherwise. A wink to Aya, a shrug to Fen, and a reassuring shoulder squeeze for Raphael.

The movies had been wonderful. And, if he was being honest with himself, it was mostly because Raphael had actually relaxed against him after the first half hour or so rather than being mister tense. It was also because Jake felt like he was actually relaxing with friends for the first time in months, but he’d also come to terms with his situation. He had a massive crush on Raphael. Spotting for him in the gym gave him time to really get a sense for the angel, and what he’d learned… well, there was one good thing about being trapped in the Celestial Realm for the rest of this year. And it was the eye candy that was his dorm neighbor.

Jake startled when his phone made a little chirp. He hadn’t put it on silent yet. That was step one. Step two was checking his messages. Oh! Nia.

Nia > Jake: Hey, Jakey, you awake? Jake > Nia: Nia. It’s like 4am there, what are you doing awake? Nia > Jake: It’s 2 there, I could be asking the same thing. Jake > Nia: I just got home from movie night. Unintentional double feature because Azrael found out that Raph hadn’t seen Spirited Away, so… Nia > Jake: That’s a tragedy! Jake > Nia: Agreed. Anyway, why are you texting me at 4am? Nia > Jake: I made a pact with Beel.

Jake blinked. That’s a second pact. And not with the boy she’s interested in. Either of them. Or, was she interested in this one too? Beel seemed like a boy Bunny, maybe a hungrier one, but. A real himbo, from what Nia’s said. He didn’t disapprove, even if it wasn’t up to him.

Jake > Nia: Whoa. Two pacts! Nia > Jake: Yeah.

Should he say it? He had to say it.

Jake > Nia: And you’re still the legal owner of your soul, I hope. Nia > Jake: Of course I am, I honestly just agreed to go out to basically every human-safe Devildom restaurant. Jake > Nia: You agreed to endless dates as an exchange for protection from Mr. Beefy? Nia > Jake: I mean… yeah, that’s a pretty good description.

That was one hell of a deal, really. But… Well, Nia was telling him about her relationship things, even if Pacts were like the ultimate platonic commitment and not romantic like his realizations for the evening. He should still share with her even though he knew it would probably keep her from going back to sleep properly.

Jake > Nia: Well, my crush gave me one of his hoodies, so… Nia > Jake: Your crush?! How long were you going to hold out on telling me about him? Jake > Nia: I thought you’d have guessed by now.

Even as he pushed send, Jake knew it wasn’t entirely fair. Even he had only really realized it today. But he also knew how easy it was for his bestie to read him, often before he figured things out himself. She’d clocked the fact that he was gay months before he admitted it to himself. He could see the same in her, it’s why they were so close. Lucikly, they’d never had crushes on the same boy before, so that helped keep them from having petty fights. But if she was going to date every single demon, well, it was only a matter of time before they saw eye to eye on hotness. Mammon was an absolute snack.

Nia > Jake: You talk about Azrael and Feniel enough, but one’s a girl and the other you sa

Jake stared at his phone when the incomplete message popped in. Then, Nia started and stopped typing probably a dozen times before her next message came through.

Nia > Jake: HOLY SHIT IS IT RAPHAEL?!

Jake laughed so loud he had to smother his own face in his pillow to avoid waking Raphael nextdoor.

Jake > Nia: Shh, keep it down, you’ll wake the neighbors.

His phone buzzed as he was sending that message, and what he received made him laugh again, but tamer.

Raphael > Jake: Everything okay in there? Jake > Raphael: Sorry if I woke you, texting with my devildom friend. Raphael > Jake: You didn’t wake me. You and she should probably get some sleep though. Jake > Raphael: You too. Thanks again for the hoodie.

Right. Right. Stop flirting. Back to Nia.

Jake > Nia: I say, and then wake my neighbor laughing anyway. Jake > Nia: But yes. He’s so hot. And nice. And I’m pretty sure he fumbled his lift because of my spandex ass earlier. Nia > Jake: OMG what?! Jake > Nia: Aya loaned me workout clothes so I’d stop working out in jeans. Nia > Jake: And…? Jake > Nia: It’s leg day. Nia > Jake: And he fumbled a lift? Boy was checking you out! Jake > Nia: I thought so too. But he was so smooth about it, and he’s Michael’s right hand man, so… Nia > Jake: Oooooooof. Yeah. okay. Jake > Nia: I shall admire him from a respectable distance and enjoy the hell out of this hoodie. Nia > Jake: That sounds like a great plan. I am gonna… sleep. Nia > Jake: Oh right!!! I made cookies with Beel and Luke, btw. So expect a delivery #soon. Jake > Nia: 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

Jake set his device aside, making sure it was plugged in properly, and crawled into bed. Pajamas and Raphael’s hoodie? Absolutely. He slipped the eye mask that Azrael had gifted him over his eyes to keep the perpetual sun out, curled up, and slipped off to sleep with thoughts full of cute boys and impending cookies.

#omswd #obey me shall we date #chapter fic #longfic #fic update #obey me!#obey me raphael #om celestial realm #celestial realm #om raphael

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fangsforhire · 3 months

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malka-lisitsa bared their pretty throat :

"I'm gonna be real with you, we havent known each other long enough for me to pretend like I know what to get you. So top shelf liquor, but in addition to that. I saw the little rabbit doll your kid had in that picture, and I had someone make a replica of it. It's not the same. I know, but it's something... to keep with you and think of her."

‘Darling, you didn’t have to get me anything, yanno?’

When he’d gone to the lengths he’d gone to to retrieve her something unique and suitable as a gift, he hadn’t expected it to be returned. Despite being a complete and utter arsehole, he didn’t give to receive. On the contrary; it was rare he ever got presents. ( It had only been recently since he had permitted a celebration of his creation date, and that was more for Lucifer’s sake than his own. ) His father seemed determined to attempt to make up for lost time and it was rather sweet, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Neither of them had much experience in the whole bonding department, they were making it up as they went along, and yet… the fact she had purchased such expensive alcohol had him touched. However, that was nothing in comparison to the latter… ‘Wh-?’ Words failed him and for a moment the entire world stopped, Lily’s laughter echoing distantly, giving him an eerie sense of dejavu. How many times had she insisted on that bunny joining them? She’d taken it everywhere, clutching it in a delicate palm with the protectiveness he’d passed down. ( His beautiful baby had kept hold of it until the final second the lights had left her eyes and… ) fuck – pulling himself back to reality, he wasn’t surprised to find himself blinking back blood, the distinctive tears making tracks down his cheeks, coming thick and fast, and hell no, once he’d started he couldn’t stop; repressed emotion pouring from him. Teeth grit, a sharp hiss released, his fangs sinking into his fist, to stifle the sound. Few things could render him… into such an emotional mess but his daughter? His sweet… angel. Gone too soon.

‘Ah, fuck – I - I’m sorry about that… I can’t… Katherine, I’m aware I look like a pathetic son of a bitch right now, but there are no words… to… explain what this means to me. I don’t think anyone will ever truly grasp the grief of losing a child.’

Lips quivered as he fought for composure, reaching to seize the replicated rabbit, clinging to it with trembling fingers. Sucking in a breath, he rubbed frantically at his crimson stained features with a sleeve, storing the keepsake in his jacket pocket, allowing it to peek out, looking upon the world a way his daughter couldn’t. ( He would never forget this moment and he knew better than to draw attention to it, having just fallen apart without warning in front of her. ) Though he did have to question how she could accuse herself of having no heart. He couldn’t recall anyone ever hitting this close to home before… he’d cried a handful of times in his life, and yet somehow she had tipped him completely over the edge. ‘Thank you. Now bloody hell, this liquor is calling my name. Shall we?’

#malka-lisitsa #tw grief #tw child death #ℒ | It's just another stroke of the pen on the page. ( Roleplay Ask. )#ℒ | Will you think that you're all alone when no one's there to hold your hand? ( Queue. )

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 1 year

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warning: This is Simpsons related, written during awful insomnia. Bad writing on an unpopular topic follows.

Also one update: I DID tell Mom about that last segment, just not in detail. You’ll see why I debated it.

I’ve been catching up on Halloween episodes of The Simpsons, what with being unable to watch them for, oh, about twenty years**, and it sure has been a rocky road.

The episode that wasn’t a Treehouse of Horror, with Lisa getting a bit of Halloween PTSD, was great, and the Treehouse episode that started with the Guillermo del Toro’s opening was pretty enjoyable, but for every one of those there were full episodes (not just segments) that were duds. But I’m going to get through them yet.

I just got to one from, I think, 2017. Some quick thoughts.

The intro with the family as Halloween candy is kinda fun. The joke of Bart as Butterfingers is cute after that HEAVY bit of promotion for it The Simpsons did back in the day. The ending baffles me though. Who the heck puts uneaten holiday candy on a high shelf? And how would the Christmas cookies and Easter chocolate bunny still be intact? Where I live, even if you could keep ants, roaches, mice, etc away it would melt away/rot into a nasty mess! Believe me, I just found a tootsie pop from last year that had accidentally gotten left in with the Halloween stuff on a top shelf and it had utterly liquified!

My take away from The Exorcist spoof is a question: Is it scarier than The Exorcist OR was The Exorcist just funnier? I mean, The Exorcist is hilarious, so it’s a tough call.

That same episode spoofs Coraline, and I continue to be stunned how I always recognize Neil Gaiman’s voice. I has no idea he did anything for the episode, yet the second the cat spoke I went “Wait! Is that Neil Gaiman?!?” Last time this happened it was me coming in half way through something on NPR and recognizing him. What the hell is is about his voice, or speech pattern, or whatever that sticks out like a, um, pleasantly sore thumb? *** I am usually terrible at recognizing voices!

Finally…ewwwwwwwww! In the early days they had warnings before Treehouse of Horror episodes, and it was just funny. But in this case, yeah, probably a good idea. Is there a word for self cannibalism? I don’t suppose there is much need for it, but since I just discovered I find that a wee bit ickier than regular cannibalism I could use one. I may skip this section when I summarize the episode for Mom tomorrow….

** When over the air broadcasting changed I lived too far away from any stations to pick them up. I also have never had cable. Oh, and my internet is so crap I find streaming a pain most of the time. So I guess I never got to see The Simpsons fading.

*** Yes, I did once go to a Neil Gaiman signing at a comic con, and even went to his reading to raise money for the CBLDF, but that was more than twenty years ago. I’m not even an obsessive fan that plays DVD extras over and over or whatever.

#my day #television #the simpsons #treehouse of horror #neil gaiman #the exorcist

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footballlascl · 2 years

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At the time of ShadowCrafts roll-out, the other series on her channel during the period included 'Crazy Craft 3.0' and her frequent 'Build Battle' videos.

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ShadowCraft 2.0 was played in Minecraft version 1.7.2, an upgrade to the original ShadowCraft, that was played in 1.5.2 (At the time of ShadowCrafts premier, 1.8 was the latest update).

This could explain why ShadowCraft 2.0 never got an official finale.

It's reported that Lizzie ended ShadowCraft because she ran out of ideas to do in the series, although it's also noted that it could have possibly ended because the world corrupted and Lizzie lost much of the progress she had made in the world, causing her to stop playing.

ShadowCraft 2.0 ran for almost exactly a year, with the first episode premiering on May 17th 2015, and the final episode premiering of May 16th 2016.

As of October 2021, the lowest viewed episode of ShadowCraft 2.0 is Episode 33 'Christmas Pets!' at 1.9 million views, it's the only episode of ShadowCraft 2.0 to currently have under 2 million views.

As of October 2021, the highest viewed episode of ShadowCraft 2.0 is Episode 4 'Water Bunny Pets' at 7.1 million views.

Gallery Main article: ShadowCraft 2.0/Gallery Trivia

Texture packs - Sphax (crops) and Sandy Dreams (grass & dirt).

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Treehouse Addition (Built in Episode 31)Ī list of Minecraft mods that were used in the series, many mods returned from the first ShadowCraft, such as Mo Creatures, MrCrayfish's Furniture Mod and Pam's Harvestcraft, but Lizzie also brought in a plethora of new mods for her to explore.

Queen of Hearts Garden, Maze and Tea Party (Built in Episode's 17 to 19).

Pepe's Smoothie Stand (Built in Episode 15).

List of notable builds by Lizzie throughout the series: There is a globe and computer on either side of the room. Which has some shelves and a large window with a view of the world. Going upstairs leads you to Lizzie bedroom. Towards the back of the house is all the kitchen requirements (Furnace, Fridge, Crafting Bench etc), and a cookie bowl.

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Next to the chair is a bookcase full of Minecraft stories that fans have made. On the left as you walk in is a tall chair, some chest of drawers with a goldfish bowl on top of it. There is also another shelf on the left which holds the many flowers that Lizzie has collected over the season. There is a shelf to the right as you walk in full of "Weird things" such as a Soul, and a ball of Flesh. It also has two other doors that all lead outside. The entrance leads you to a large open room which has some stairs leading to the upstairs of the house. It is made primarily from wood and stands big and tall. I remains on the site of the old house but is far bigger. Lizzie's second, and current house was built in Episode 9 of ShadowCraft 2.0 "Home Make-over" after her first house was demolished. The house was first seen in Episode 3 of ShadowCraft 2.0 "Huge Crabs, Tiny House" and was last seen in Episode 9 of ShadowCraft 2.0 "Home Make-over", where it was demolished for a bigger house. The house was quite bright on the inside due to the large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A ladder on the wall took you to the upstairs area which contained only a bed and a window. The interior had the Minecraft essentials on the ground floor (Furnace, Crafting bench etc), and was also briefly home to a fishbowl.

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From the front it had two windows on either side of a glass door. Lizzie's first house was a small purple structure in the countryside. Other than this, the only major change to her home was the addition of a treehouse on the side in episode 31. The first being was a smaller starter home and the second, her bigger, more permanent one. In the span of ShadowCraft 2.0's run, Lizzie built two separate houses. ShadowCraft 2.0 began 8 months later, becoming her new main series at the time and continuing on with the ShadowCraft series. The first season of ShadowCraft had finished it's seventy-three episode run on October 11, 2014. In the second season, the first few episodes focus around Lizzie started her world, getting resources and finding an area to build in, as the series progresses, the episodes usually revolve around taming different animals and making them homes. Similar the first series of ShadowCraft, her main objective is taming animals and creating a cute world for herself and her animal friends. The series sees Lizzie as she explores several Minecraft mods.

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sweetsbfreex · 2 years

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harry's home

a/n: inspired by the beginning of 'As it Was': "Come on, Harry, we wanna say “Goodnight” to you".

Summary: Harry arrives home late, now he has to deal with the wrath of his 3 year old.

Warnings: none! domestic fluff?

Pairings: Dad!Harry x black!reader (doesn't mean the exception can't read)

It’s 10:05pm when Harry finally walks through the door of his home. He knew everyone would be asleep by now, so he’ll have to settle with giving a kiss on the head to a sleeping Mara, his three year old. And a cuddle with his sleeping wife. Once she knocks out, she knocks out.

The light in the living-room is left on by her, but other than that it’s as silent as a mouse.

He’s just ecstatic to be home. Any time he walks through the door, it's like his soul can take a deep breath, breathing in how tranquil it’ll always be. He hangs his keys on the key rack; his coat goes in the small closet, and shoes on the shelf there.

Once he’s finished, he sighs contentedly, dropping his hands to sit on his hips. Smiling as he looks around at the place — leaving his suitcase on the floor— that was created home alongside his loving, tactful wife, as a result of giving them Mara.

The never-ending photos on the wall in the living-room make him naturally smile.

Their wedding day: where Harry holds both their hands up in cheer as they walk down the aisle, eyes never breaking contact. Mara’s first birthday: her face covered to the rim with icing as she smiles, her father’s smile, and holds up both hands trying to get a hand on the camera in curiosity. A very, very old, blurry picture of y/n and Harry at his first concert. They were 16 and always took the time to cringe at their choices of wardrobe.

Mara’s knickknacks are all over the floor.

When he yawns, he knows it’s time to hurry up, get ready for bed before he drops dead on the floor. That is definitely not how he’d like his family to see him first thing in the morning after not being here for a week.

He grabs his suitcase by the handle and heads upstairs.

When he hits the first step, he looks up, realizing something is off. His three-year-old sits on the top step, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Baby, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“Mara is upset with daddy,” she answers, clipped.

Her plump lips form duck lips with how upset she is, causing her cheeks to puff out even more than they do. Eyes glared at her father. He can also see the glisten on her skin, knowing her mother has dipped her in a bottle of Aquaphor. She’s dressed in her new Encanto sleep dress. Her new obsession. Her curls are braided down in two plait braids. He assumes, but her lavender, silk bonnet blocks him from seeing.

He has no idea how long she’s been waiting on the step for him. But he knows her sneaky little self waited until her mother fell asleep to do so.

“Why is my bunny upset with daddy?” He asks, he so terribly wants to climb up those stairs and throw her into his arms. But she’s upset and doesn’t like physical affection while being so.

“Daddy, you said a week. It’s been years!” She squalls, her eyes go wide at her admission.

“It’s been exactly seven days, what calendar are you looking at?”

“You were 'upposed to be home with the sun!”

“I know, but there were many mess ups today.”

“Mara is upset with daddy,” she parrots, standing up. Sweeping over his reasoning, it didn’t matter what happened, when Mara expected her father home; she expected to see him then.

“Daddy is sorry and he hasn’t seen Mara in a week, and he would really, really love it if he could give you a hug and kiss.”

She considers it, her forefinger bouncing off her chin and her right foot tapping on the floor. It feels like forever, but within thirty seconds she nods her head, yes, stands up, and leaves her arms open and out.

No matter what Harry thought, his two girls would always run him.

He gleams as he shifts up those stairs at lightning speed, and growls lightly when he picks her up and sits her in his arms, like a swing. The front of her legs against his chest, bum sat on his arms, and her arms hook around his neck.

She laughs at the tickles he sends to her side.

“Daddy missed you so much, sweet pea” he kisses all over her face. It’s been a week since he’s seen her cherub face in person; he doesn’t know how he’ll do months at a time.

“How much?”

“Oh, that’s a tough question,” he murmurs. “Hmm… is a penny big?”

“No,” she laughs.

“You’re right, how about a button?”

“Daddy, you’re silly,” she laughs harder.

He snaps his finger, eyes going wide like a daffy scientist. “You wanna know how much I missed you?” He knows she wants to know oh so badly.

She nods eagerly.

“The size… of the… moon!” He throws her in the air once, catches her, before he tickles, watching her charged body squirm around. Her tiny hands try with her all might to push his hands away.

“Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!” She laughs, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

They both laugh once he stops and she rests herself against his chest. Her glare, pouty mouth, and crossed demeanor are long gone. Mara holds onto her father tightly; some fingers in her right hand playing with his ear lobe-- her finger rattles his drop earring-- something she’s picked up from her mother.

“Daddy’s sorry he’s been gone a lot lately.” he whispers, rocking her softly and kisses the crown of her head.

“It’s okay, Daddy here now.” she slurs.

“I love you so much, bigger than the galaxy.”

“Infinity” the word comes out garbled, a tough one for her, but he understands it perfectly.

“Even that” he hums, his free hand running up and down her back.

“Daddy” Mara sits up from her position.

“Hm?”

Her hands rest on his scruffy cheeks. “I’m sorry for being upset at you. ‘Didn’t mean it.” Her eyes look up into his as her bottom lip pops out. “I just wanted to say ‘night”

“Hey, there’s no need for that, alright.” He kisses her nose. “If that’s how you feel then that’s fine, I’m proud you talked to me about it”

She smiles at his assurance, before she rests back against him.

“Night, night”

“Goodnight, baby”

He rocks her to sleep, in the dimly lit hallway, just them two in the middle of the night. It’s things like this that he cherishes.

Before he grasps it, she snores lightly. Mouth hung slightly open. He walks into her lavender room: sets her in her big girl Princess bed, tucks her in, fixes her bonnet, and kisses her cheek, then her nose before he whispers a good night.

He checks his watch to see it’s 10:35. Yep, she’ll definitely be Oscar the Grouch in the morning.

He looks at her one more time before he retreats into his shared bedroom. His first stop is his bed. Where, peacefully, his other half sleeps. The blanket covered her nose. Her arms lay under her head, and from the small peek he can see of her shoulder, she’s wearing his favorite nightie.

He was meant to be here mid-afternoon but problem after problem arose, delaying his trip home.

He walks towards her figure and kisses her cheek; Goes in the closet to gather his sleeping clothes (a pair of sweats) and heads to the bathroom to wash up.

Once he’s out of the shower, smelling like vanilla. He walks out and shimmies behind your body. Of course, you’re still out like a light.

His tattooed arm rests over your torso and his leg fits right in between yours. He breathes in your hair through your bonnet. Manuka honey has become his favorite thing since you’ve used it.

It reminds him of home. You remind him of home. His little one reminds him of home.

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

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peachycoreroo · 3 years

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the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager

summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.

pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp

word count: 5.4k

warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink

authors note: this is for @weepinglevi‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist

uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren’t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.

him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.

you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.

one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.

it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.

even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.

at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.

“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.

knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.

“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.

alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.

“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.

the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.

“are you waiting for something?”

you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.

“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”

“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”

zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.

“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”

you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.

the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.

five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.

as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.

you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.

no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.

as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.

you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.

the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.

you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.

after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.

when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.

“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”

at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?

you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”

as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.

“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”

“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”

the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.

trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”

“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”

“stop.”

this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.

your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.

your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.

not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.

“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.

you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “

only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.

“did you fuck him?”

zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.

the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.

“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.

the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.

“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”

stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”

the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.

looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.

“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”

just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.

zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.

seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”

at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.

you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.

it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.

above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.

“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”

you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.

as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.

at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.

on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.

zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.

you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.

strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.

as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.

“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.

“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”

as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”

zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.

in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.

after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.

“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.

your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.

the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.

zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.

a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.

“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.

another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.

“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.

smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’

at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.

when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.

“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.

after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.

as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.

“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.

the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.

every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.

at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.

suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.

not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.

“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.

with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.

“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.

“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”

a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.

zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.

2K notes · View notes

jjkpls · 3 years

Text

the wishlist (m) - 2

“Since when do we buy each other sextoys?”

> genre : light angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 5k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; chaotic oc; clueless koo

previous - next

It all starts with the first box and the vague memory of a warm touch on your face.

When you wake up that morning, groggy from exhaustion and the sensation of having spent the night waking up, again and again, you sense something. You struggle to point out if you’ve dreamt or if it really happened, but there’s the lingering of a warm hand's trace, cupping your cheek, soothing the stress lines on your forehead, and softly brushing your hair back from your face. You can’t tell if it’s happened but it left a lovely sensation both on your skin and heart.

You get up and out of bed, slowly stroll to your living room with a lazy hand raising to your head, meaning to scratch at the snake nest you expect to be sitting on it. Instead, your fingers are met with a rather neat braid you definitely didn’t go to sleep with as you were too fucking done with this day to even try and deal with your tight bun -the very bun that elongated your time to fall asleep by at least a good half an hour. The same fingers that caressed your face took care of your hair and you know exactly to whom they belong.

Of course, giddiness ensues and the mildly serious feeling of mortification -you despise the idea of not knowing in what state he found you, in what state of ugly, of dishevelled, of smelly. There’s no room for embarrassment in this friendship, not this kind anyway, fortunately or not, he’s seen you at your worst (at a time when you didn’t care much if he did or not) so it counters, always a bit, the shame.

He hasn't left your side yet, has he? And he’s exposing himself to this face of yours, so why should you feel bad about it? He sneaks into your apartment at night just to brush your face and bring the covers up to your chin, tuck you nicely in as if he’s your mom or something, so why should you care. He doesn’t seem to mind. He never seems to mind. He’s the best of friends. The best of all the people you know and the best of your friends.

And of course, naturally fitting this role, you’d find the morning of Christmas, a mysterious box you’ve never seen before sitting on your coffee table.

The girls, your friends, have presents for you, you know they do, but yesterday you were working and couldn’t see them, therefore, the little celebration was reported and you didn’t expect, you wouldn’t expect them to come at night or early in the morning to bring you your gifts. It can wait (so they decided).

But Jungkook is sweet like no one else is.

And he came to wish you a merry Christmas even if you were too tired to wish him back and he left a present for you.

There’s not a name attached to it but it’s obvious it comes from him. There’s just a post-it he stole from your desk, with a Merry Christmas written on it, the lines of the letters, round and neat, you’d recognize from any other lettering and a bunny with teeth as big as the eyes smiling at you, drawn next to it.

The box is so pretty, you feel an actual pressure thinking about opening it, as if there is a certain way, a proper way, to go about it.

And apparently, there is. You go wash your face and rinse your mouth, prepare yourself one of your good teas, tear the curtain wide open and slowly, almost ceremoniously, take a seat on the ground, right in front of it.

The box is neat. You don’t know what’s inside, probably a perfume or some kit for the bath you’d assume, but you already know that whatever is inside, even if it’s not of your liking -which is impossible, it comes from Jungkook-, will be balanced out by the appearance of this perfectly elegant, tasteful box that you’ll use again to stock anything, maybe your face masks, maybe nothing -it’ll just sit, looking good on a shelf.

It’s a pastel blue, with a black rose drawn on top of it, the icon to a brand you absolutely don’t recognize. With fingers trembling with excitement you drag the box to yourself, it’s mildly heavy, for some reasons, it gives you a little rush of anxiety. There’s just a tiny black ribbon holding the box firmly closed. A tiny pull on it and it slips open.

Slowly you lift the lid, a grin already plastered on your face, hurting your cheeks. You expect a blinding magical light to come out of it, with the sound of bells ringing near your ears and sense to suddenly knock into you as you’d understand what wondrous present is in front of you.

But none of it comes. There's just a thing hidden inside a black satin bag.

It’s not a perfume nor a bath kit and you’re confused.

A bit scared.

Honestly, maybe a little shameful part of you has guessed it. But the louder yet weaker rest of you can’t see it. It would be too... ludicrous. And wouldn’t make sense, would it? You’ve never actually seen any in real life so how would you know what the packaging would look like and how would you come to this conclusion now? And how, why, how would he, Jeon Jungkook, come about to offer you this?

Doesn’t make any sense.

But somehow, when you pick up the courage to open the little bag and drag the object out of it, you hardly even gasp in surprise when you discover a dildo. You just let it drop to the table, thumping loudly the fake wood.

Why did you guess it to be that and why did he get you this shit?

Scorching red seize your face and your whole being.

You are infuriated.

How dares he? You are mortified. How dares he?

What does this fucking mean?

A joke?

Is it a joke?

If it a joke then what’s the fucking point? It’s not fucking funny. It’s weird as hell and you can’t believe he came in the middle of the night, pretending to be Santa to leave you a fucking kidding present as if your miserable life needed that.

And if it’s not then what the actual fuck? Does he think you’re that desperate? Does he have really no notion of boundaries?

Conveniently your phone lays centimetres away from the offending thing, you don’t even need to get up to grab it and therefore, you start looking furiously for his name in your recent call list. After only two rings as if he was just expecting your call, his bright hello reaches your ear.

“What the actual fuck, Jeon?” He must hear the madness in your voice, both the anger and the hysteria. There’s a pause during which he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a sound and you even check your screen to make sure he hasn’t hung up on you.

“That’s- not- the reaction I expected.” He sounds sheepish. Mumbled words, lisped syllables, long pauses.

“What did you expect?” You yell a bit, you can just picture him, dragging the phone out of earshot and winding, the same way you do when your mom who doesn’t get the concept of telephone screams in it each time she calls you. The realization hits you, that in your quiet little apartment, in this (for once) quiet morning, you are screeching like a banshee. You quiet down instantly, some of the anger soothed down by embarrassment. “Are you insane?” You whisper in his ear and comically, he starts whispering too, with the same alterations to his usually bright and open tone.

“M’not. I just- you said that’s what you wanted so I got it for you.”

Now he’s making stuff up and blaming this insanity on you and that serves to raise a bit more the bar of anger -along with the loudness of your voice, “When have I ever said that I wanted a-“ You choke on your own saliva once your brain realizes that you’re supposed to say the word, out loud, to him. In an angry whisper, as if someone, your mother, for example, could be listening “fucking dildo!” You blush furiously at that and it’s ridiculous. Probably the reason why you didn’t own one in the first place and maybe shouldn’t yet. Because you’re a grown-ass woman of a quarter of a century, living alone and admittedly independent and responsible for your own existence, but you can’t even say the word “dildo” out loud to this asshole of a friend who apparently, and that’s new news, doesn’t have an issue talking about sex and everything related to it with you.

“Y-you said-“ There’s a pregnant pause. You can’t know for sure since you’re not seeing him if he’s faking it or not but he sounds confused as hell. Like he genuinely doesn’t understand what’s wrong. Moron. “You said you wanted sex but not a boyfriend so I thought- it’s pretty much- it’s exactly what it is. Why are you so mad?”

The question in itself serves to drag you a little further over the edge. So much so, it clogs your brain with anguish and leaves you unable to give him an answer.

When he’s starting to talk again, maybe ask again his question, you just hung up, slamming your phone down on the carpet.

You hear it vibrate to life twice before it shuts down completely. Good. At least he knows you well enough, still, to assume rightfully so that you won’t pick up his calls anymore. Not today.

You just have the time to pack the dildo back in its bag and inside its box, throw away your tea that tastes unbearably bitter and maniacally scrub your face in an attempt to get rid of the red patches that don’t want to fucking leave before the telling high beeps of your front door’s digital lock alert you. Your face is soaking in cold water, another attempt to cool it, your face and your troubled mind.

You mean to ignore him. Dipping your head further in the filled up sink, closing your eyes tight shut hoping somehow it’ll help you push aside the calls of your name better.

For a few seconds, it works. You can’t hear him anymore. You wonder if the furious pleas you were chanting in your head could have been loud enough to make the sound of the door slamming behind him as he would have left, completely quiet.

He’s such a try-hard. You hung up on him because he’s saying batshit crazy things and his first reflex is to barge in your house again. You really need to change your lock and not tell him. You can do that. You’re an adult and you have the right to your own fucking place. It’s not a fucking benevolent stay in, for fuck's sake.

The cold water really seems to work. You feel better, light-headed, coming down after the earlier hysteria. And knowing that he’s left and won’t pursue this mess any further, for now, surely helps a lot.

Except it doesn’t last for, as soon as your face leaves the water, your hands reaching clumsily for a towel that falls magically in them, one wipe at your eyes and your worst nightmare is standing right in front of you.

“Fucking- Jungkook!” Burying your face back in the towel, drying your face as much as possible, maybe even trying for a second to suffocate yourself, you wish vainly that when you’ll take it off he would have disappeared.

He is still here though. Watching with dark eyes and a straight severe line replacing the cute button he owns for a mouth, he looks awfully serious for a guy that’s never really serious. Your towel ends up centimetres away from his face, he catches it right before it touches him. You hoped it would blind and confuse him momentarily, long enough for you to escape but of course, this guy would never miss a shot, even a surprise one.

“Why are you like this?” He asks when you try and push him from the ribs, out of the door frame. You hate that you think about it. About his chest being so hard and warm and his fucking smell of sweat that you’d recognize amongst any others (pretty easily as any other makes you gag and this one, probably because you’re a primary animal guided by hormones, leaves you dizzy and wanting). He doesn’t budge until he decides to, mercilessly stepping aside to let you through. Because you’re an idiot, you don’t think and head for the living room and it’s only once you’re there, very aware of his steps following you, that the devilish object of your discord is right fucking there, obnoxiously sitting on the middle of your coffee table. You groan and squeeze your eyes tight.

What meditation technique, an extra effective one, could you use right now before you definitely lose it and throw yourself out the window?

Before you find one, you end up clinging to the opposite wall, forehead pressed to it, back to him, in a vain attempt to suppress yourself from the situation. You might look a little insane or at best, somehow on edge, but who cares at this point?

“Jungkook, if I don’t pick up your call, do you think I want to see your face?”

“But why though?” His tone is still harsher than usual. You notice it and you notice you don’t hate it either. What a little bitch you are. If you like his usual self, with the bright smile, soft words, boisterous laugh, dainty manners, you can’t deny that this rougher version of him, genuinely pissed off as you’ve never seen him, tickles your fancy. You’re fucked. “Seriously these days you- you’re such-“

“I’m what?” You bark, swirling on your feet, expression distorted by an offence he hasn’t even made yet. You completed the sentence he’s never finished with terrible words that you’ve never heard him use talking about anyone: bitch, hysterical, cunt.

“You’re trying to pick a fight with me all the fucking time, I don’t get it!”

Now you feel terrible. You’re still bothered by the raw edges of his tone, it’s literally sending electric shocks to your lower tummy. But his eyebrows have dropped and his fiery dark eyes have turned shiny and sad, your heart hurts in your bosom.

Ugh.

You’re such a bitch.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m insufferable. I’m on my period. Sorry.” You send a mental apology to womanhood. You're just an idiot lacking imagination.

Jungkook frowns, his eyebrows dancing in all kind of ways, before they settle for an, unfortunately for you, attractive finale, one straight down, one tilt up. He stares at you, dubious.

“For three weeks. You’ve been on your period for three weeks.”

The first thing you take notes of is the fact that he dated it way shorter than you would have. Honestly, you found yourself becoming a weirdo with inappropriate feelings that reindeer you into an asshole for at least a month and a half. Before that, it was extremely tamed, totally under control. You’d just notice his handsome face and cute smiles and nice smell, thinking “oh yeah that’s right. He’s kinda attractive. How funny I never really noticed.” And slowly it progressed to not being able to handle him touching you without having something close to a panic attack.

The second thing you note is that he doesn’t believe you. His stare is insistent, turns a bit dark as he lingers, studying your own eyes with judgment in his. He’s frowning even more, looks down at the floor and sighs so deep, heartbreakingly so. He looks hurt that you’re lying and don’t want to share what's really been up with you. If only you could be a better liar.

“It happens sometimes, all women are diff-“

He just sat down on your sofa, eyes fixed on the blue box. Before you can finish your sentence, he sends you a glare that awfully looks like a threat. You shut up. He doesn’t believe you anyway. He knows you and your periods (sort of) way too well. He knows you’re in pain the first day, you’re a bit tender on the following ones and he takes it upon himself to be gentler and not try to play WWE with you on those but you don’t turn into a mean dragon. This much he knows for sure.

There’s something he’s seeking for within the box. He’s grabbed it, holds it now in between his fingertips, piercing virtual holes into it. It’s probably the answer he didn’t find in your eyes.

It makes you flush furiously. Seeing his pretty hands with his long fingers touching it. Here’s the reason, he would have caught it on your cheeks if he wasn’t so busy looking for it elsewhere.

“I really thought that- you’d like it.” He sounds so saddened. You’re caught off guard. Again. So this present wasn’t meant to be a joke. It is a genuine one. It makes sense that he’s hurt then. You’re shitting all over his gift but how could you not? How could he believe that you could just accept that for a random gift? Slowly he makes the top of the box slide up, pout sucked in in concentration, dimple out. Your heart seems to stop at that. He’s not going to take it out, is he?

He can’t take it in his hands.

You’ll die if he takes it in his hands.

Fortunately, he just opens the box, looks at the satin bag, looks at it with a pained expression as if he feels bad for the thing, then closes it back.

“The woman at the shop said that it’s one of the best ones, for starters.” He sulks like a child. Bottom lip all plumped out, shiny eyes under curved eyebrows.

Jungkook looks up at you, ultimate sad puppy look on.

“She said the size and the texture were perfect if you’ve never used one before. It wouldn’t be too... what was that again?” He asks aloud as if you’d know. And you’re mortified. On behalf of him. The concept that he’s not embarrassed right now and that he went to an actual shop, browsed through the shelves and asked an actual saleswoman for help is absolutely insane. Unbelievable if it were not for the sincerity he’s dipped in. “And I picked blue because I know you like this colour. It matches your planner, doesn’t it?” He adds as if he’s not sure when obviously he knows.

It is surprisingly very close in shade. And so what? He expected you to love it so much, take fucking aesthetic pictures with it and your planner sitting on your fake marble desktop, next to Diego the succulent? What an idiot. And for how fucking long did he talk to that woman?

Silence hangs heavy between you. You watch as he scowls some more, mumbles under his breath while staring with despair at the box.

Slowly, resolute to be the better friend you have not successfully been these past weeks (months), you leave your protecting wall. Taking a seat on the carpet, on the opposite side of the table, you do your best to ignore the blue patch invading the bottom of your vision and try to give him the softest expression you can come up with at this moment.

“Why are you so butthurt?”

His curiously perfect round eyes raise in a swift motion, pouty lips agape in a silent little gasp.

“Sorry.” You apologize before he even gets to respond because, maybe, you could try harder to be good and nice to him.

“Because it’s a present.” He starts at a very slow pace. He pauses between words like he’s addressing a dim, dim brain. And he might be honestly. But he’s one to talk. How can he not see an issue? “That I’ve looked for and bought for you. That’s why I’m butthurt, what do you mean?”

“But- since when are we buying each other-“ You need to grow up. There’s no one else but him hearing you and since your last conversation about it, when he too was embarrassed, he’s able to say it just fine apparently. Still, you whisper the following, “sex toys?”

“Since you turned twenty-five and said you were interested in it.” His right-hand raises from the box to start flapping the air and you know it means bad news. He’s upset. When he needs his hands to further accompany his speech, it means he’s a bit too taken by the conversation. And in this case, you don’t feel like it’s a good idea for him to be. “When you were fourteen and into Legos, I bought you a set of Legos.”

Hardly makes sense.

“You’re just going to pretend it’s a random present?”

“It’s not random. I put thought into it.” His eyes are digging up intensively in your own. It might be desperation that leads you to remain still, allow him to look. Hopefully, he won’t dig deep enough to find stuff he shouldn’t. “Why do you hate it? I thought- I don’t know- you’re a- flourished single woman and-“

Flourished? Really? The words don’t come out of your mouth but he reads them on your face and an adorable smile cracks open the mask of gravity.

“Jungkook.” You owe him an effort. Maybe you should look into why it requires an act of inhuman courage for you to admit your shame. It might be because if he were anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by the present for five seconds because clearly, you’re still half of a fucking child but soon enough, you’d probably be enchanted by the thing. Who doesn’t need a good sex toy? You definitely do. You thought about getting one for a long while but never got to it for some reasons and here’s one offered to you (in a very pretty shade of baby blue).

The thing is you don’t think about anyone sexually except for him (and his friend Jimin, once in a while, just by curiosity because the guy is a very sexual being). If you don’t even consider them in this light, you don’t have to think about them using it, do you? But he’s all you think about, unfortunately. And you’re friends. And it feels like one step closer to your fantasy while simultaneously one step closer to betrayal. And he certainly is not offering you this wishing for you to keep close in mind the fact that this is his. His present. He knows about it. Maybe can think of you using it and liking it without any further implications. Because obviously, it’s not like that for him. “It's awkward. How can you not see that.”

“Is it? What is?”

“First of all, we don’t- we- don’t even talk about... it. And suddenly you’re buying me- this?”

“Yeah, I realized that too!” It’s too much enthusiasm. Eyes too big and hands not leaving the air. You can already guess his next sentence. It’s probably going to be a terrible suggestion. “I talk about sex all the time with the guys,” Your eyebrows jump to your hairline at that. You’re not even that surprised but the formulation could probably be fixed. “and you talk about it with your girls, right? But we’ve known each other the longest and we never talk about it. Isn’t it fucked up?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’-”

“Well, I would. I am.”

“Don’t you- don’t you see that you’re a boy and coincidentally you can easily talk about it with the guys who happen to be boys and I am a girl, right? And I-“ Who would have thought? It took you fifteen years to finally be giving him the beginning of the talk about the birds and the bees. You would have given it to him sooner if you’d have known how far behind he’s been.

“But what if I need girl advice-“

“I’m sure Jimin knows a whole lot about girls, Jeon.”

“From a girl point of view. Real girl advice.”

“Jungkook-“

“If I ask what the G spot exactly feels like, what-“

“Jungkook!”

He’s amused, the fucker. He’s not as clueless as he sounds. But the crooked grin on his face is too telling. He might just be messing with you. Usually, when he’s just playing he wouldn’t insist so much, he wouldn’t take the conversation this far so surely, there are some genuine intentions. However, he's still having way too much fun.

With his frowned nose, and squinting shiny orbs and stupid bunny teeth.

“You’re just embarrassed, aren’t you?” You might have terribly loud red streaks painting your cheeks that you try naively to cover with your hands. He can see it all and silently, he nods his head, looking like he’s reached the final touch of his experiment. “How? What happened to the teenage girl who spent her nights writing dirty stories about Harry Styles?”

Horror.

How the fuck-

“How the fuck do you know about that?”

“You showed me!” He defends, hands high above in the air like a soccer player claiming innocence. “You did! You don’t remember?” No, you don’t. But you can tell he’s not lying. Apparently, young you was quite the fearless bitch.

What happened indeed?

Years happened. A growing sense of self-preservation along with them. Undesired feelings for an idiot with a bunny smile. An inappropriate sense of shame along with those.

“Anyway. So it’s a bribe for girl advice?” You ask, chin pointing to the box. Jungkook looks down on it, drums his fingertips lightly on the top before he looks up, beaming.

“Sort of.” Shrugging, he adds with a shifty eye that telltales a certain vulnerable sincerity. “I just wish for us to be able to share everything. Be comfortable like before.”

“Before what?” He stares for a long time, mouth shut. He then blinks the moment away and for the first time, you might believe ever, Jungkook looks like he might have a secret too.

“Just before. Back in the days, I mean.” He simply explains. His attention is back on the stupid box. He’s staring at the rose on top of it. Fingers playing with the corner of it.

“Back in your old days.”

“You’re older than me. So you really don’t want it?” Here he comes again with the sad puppy face. Why would it be breaking his dumb little heart to refuse a dildo from him? What kind of insane parallel universe is this? “Is it like a 'men are fine but little Jeon Jungkookie still has cooties so I can’t accept his present, it’s gross'?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh.” Defeated, he sighs. Another one of those soul-harming sighs. “Fine. I’ll get it refunded and you’ll buy yourself something else with the money then.”

Is he really going to make you do that?

As if the question is even to be raised. He can make you do anything.

“No, Guk, sorry. It’s fine. Sorry.” You start, hands clasping over the box you drag your side of the table. The only way you can do it is if you don’t actively think about what’s inside. “I’ll keep it. Sorry.”

“So you kind of want it?” He is grinning from one ear to the other. You can feel him giddy and excited, kind of jumpy on his seat and really, you don’t see any difference with the excitement he portrays each time he gets you any kind of presents and you tell him that you like it.

“I won’t use it.” It’s almost a threat. Eyes squinted in severe slits, index finger millimetres away from poking his eye. “It’s a gift so I won’t make you get a refund, that’s rude but- I won’t use it.” After a second of seemingly deep reflection, he breaks out in his loud, annoying boyish laughter. Eyes watery at the corners and hands clapping like a stupid seal. “I’m serious!”

“Sure.” He’s still cackling, the idiot. “But you should. The lady said it’s a best seller too.”

“Great. I don’t care.”

He has his eyebrows high, a twitch in his wide grin, and the amused black orbs. He doesn’t believe you one bit. “Course, you don’t.”

The idea that he sincerely expects you to use it might drive your delusional brain for a loop. He just wants to be the best gift-giver, the best Santa, and wants you to make good use of whatever he's got you. But how can he not consider that you could not use something like that, to pleasure yourself, when it’s directly related to him, your best friend? It’s weird as hell. It can’t be just weird to you.

Unfortunately, there’s no one you can come up with the question to have them agree with you. You already know what the girls will say. They’re even worse than you when it comes to Jeon Jungkook and your ambiguous (on your side solely) friendship. They’ll say the ship is sailed and start buying themselves bridesmaid matching dresses.

They don’t understand. It’s not like they’ve grown up with someone like him. Someone rather simple, authentic and kind, so much so, so much more than most people, that it turns him complicated because so different from other humans you can meet. There’s nothing to be read in between the lines with him. It’s always lovingly honest, blatant, generous.

He doesn’t mean anything else behind the gift besides a “have a good one!”.

And you didn’t mean anything else but the truth when you said you wouldn’t use it.

At the moment, anyway, you meant it.

A/N: hoping it makes sense and is not too raw, edited it at midnight TT; may i manifest a sugar daddy that would pay me to stay home and write fanfiction for you guys all day :). i really hope you like it, and hope also that you can handle the secondhand embarrassement because even i struggled. let me know what you think of the series so far, sending everyone reading this an infinite amount of virtual kisses and hugs, take care of yourself, love yourself and others a lot, BYEE.

tag list: @moon-asia @btstrasht @jkbangtan7 @taehugger @kaepjjangiya @daggerbeneathmygown @cuteipat @jinsalpaca

PLEASE ASK TO BE TAGGED IN THE COMMENT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! TY <3

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #ggukienet #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #my writing

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whisperlullaby · 3 years

Text

Drunken Sin

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Words: 1008

Summary: After Ransom received some bad news he holds up in his house for 3 days drinking. You go to check on him and make sure he’s okay.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (please use a condom), cockwarming, softer Ransom

A/N: I wrote this for @the-iceni-bitch ‘s 1k follower challenge! I chose the hozier lyric “I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me” obviously featuring Ransom. Special thanks to @syntheticavenger and @river-soul for reading through this for me and making sure it all tracked! Enjoy! @sagechanoafterdark

Ransom was cut off. His family made damn sure he knew he didn’t have a red dime to his name. All he had was a cabinet full of top-shelf liquor and your phone number on speed dial. You knew Ransom better than anyone and while he was absolutely an asshole, deep down he was just scared. Now his worst fear was realized and he was broke with no financial prospects on the horizon. That first night you stopped by with take-out hoping to get him to open up. He took the food and promptly slammed the door in your face. The second night he had called you to come over, but when you got there all of the lights were off and he didn’t even bother answering the door. The third night you were annoyed but concerned. You drove to his house unprompted with the intention of breaking down the door if you had to. Thankfully, the door was unlocked and you let yourself in.

“Ransom?” You called out and were met with silence.

You kicked off your shoes and slowly made your way through the house noticing several empty liquor bottles covering each table you passed. Ransom always prided himself on his cleanliness so the level of disarray in his home was concerning. The clinking of empty bottles on the floor indicated your movement through the house until you found Ransom sitting in front of the fireplace with a bottle loosely hanging from one hand while his other was buried in his hair.

“I have nothing left,” he slurred. “Not a friend in the world and now I can’t even buy them.”

Ransom suddenly threw the bottle into the fireplace causing the orange flames to bloom and crackle. You jumped back at the sudden noise as he slumped back into the couch. You slowly approached him, gently calling his name again. His eyes rolled over your form, bloodshot and languidly.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He mumbled as he threw his head back.

“You’ve been drinking for three days straight Ransom,” you admonished. “I’m here to get you cleaned up and sober, come on.”

You pulled on his arms to get him off the couch, but he just pulled you into him.

“You smell so good, sweet pea.” His hands slid under your shirt, thumbs tracing the underwire of your bra. “Where did you come from?”

“Ransom I’ve been here for 10 minutes,” you huffed. “Let’s get you upstairs and into the shower.”

Ransom pulled off your shirt and started kissing and nipping your chest. You threw your head back with a moan as he fumbled with the clasp of your bra. You shook your head and gently pushed him back to the couch. Reaching behind, you unclasped your bra and tossed it to the side. You straddled Ransom’s lap and pulled off his white cotton t-shirt exposing his defined chest.

“Bunny, I just want to feel you.” His eyes pleaded for you “Let me feel you.”

“Will you let me take care of you if I do?” You asked softly and Ransom nodded.

You sighed and let him lay you on the couch. He pulled down your leggings and underwear, leaving you bare to him. After he stripped out of his pants and boxers he crouched down and placed tender kisses on your calf, making his way up your body. He ghosted over your core before licking a stripe to your clit and sucking on the bundle of nerves. You let out a satisfied mewl as he continued to work you over with his tongue. As you crept closer to the edge Ransom added two fingers, grazing over your sweet spot and making you keen. Soon, your orgasm washed over you and Ransom lapped up your release.

He continued to kiss his way up your body stopping to pay special attention to your nipples. Taking one in his mouth, gently sucking and flicking it with his tongue while he rolled the other between his fingers. You were a panting mess by the time he captured your mouth in a hot passionate kiss. You could feel his hard length pressed into your inner thigh and you bucked your hips up into him.

“Gonna make you feel so good baby, fill you up so you’ll never leave me,” Ransom whispered in your ear causing you to whimper.

“I’m not leaving you, Ransom. I’m yours.”

At your confession, he lined himself up and pushed himself into you slowly. You could feel yourself clenching around him, pulling him deeper into you.

“Fuck, bunny squeezing me so tight like you were made for me.”

He set a rough pace bringing his hand down to press into your clit. You wrapped your legs around his hips, the new angle hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You felt the pressure building in your stomach and soon he was fucking you through your second orgasm and chasing his own release. You felt him spill into you as he fell onto you, peppering you with soft kisses. He pulled a throw blanket over you angling it so he was still sheathed inside you while you lay comfortably on your side.

“Let me stay like this baby, just want to feel you around me,” he said nuzzling into your neck.

“Okay love,” you told him, stroking his hair. “When you wake up we’ll get you some food and a shower.”

The next day Ransom woke up to the sunlight coming through his window. He felt you clench around him as you shifted in your sleep and he groaned at the sensation, his cock hardening again. When he realized what was happening he gave a soft smile and bent down to kiss your forehead. The gesture caused you to stir from your sleep and you let out a small whine as you felt him inside of you.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?” You asked, rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

“I woke up with you, I feel better than I have in days.”

#hoeing to hozier #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom x you #18+

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ahatintimepieces · 3 years

Text

In Want of Stitching

I am delighted to present another little fic for the build-a-bear au by @smieska-draws‘ and me! Smieska generously offered to let me post her incredible art above^ with this fic where Hattie is reunited with her favorite doll from her childhood! The doll is worse for wear, but Hattie knows just how to help! Be sure to give Smieska your love, and if you missed it, the previous fic is here. Without further ado, enjoy!

Words: 4,180

Hattie kicked her legs as she perched on the table in the breakroom. One hand was propped back, nestled between Dimitri’s bag and her backpack, and the other held her dwindling milkshake left over from dinner. While she waited for her dad to finish up with the last customer before closing, she watched Dimitri fuss with the supplies on the shelves.

He struggled to pull out one of the drawers and the sharp jostle of the handle caused the whole structure to shift. He froze and Hattie’s eyes widened as they waited to see if the cleaning items up top would tumble. While the bottles wobbled like a spinning toy wavering to a stop, they stilled without any avalanche and Dimitri and Hattie relaxed.

“I’m just going to deal with that in the morning,” Dimitri huffed, turning around. “Don’t tell your dad.”

Hattie gave him a thumbs up as she reached the dredges of her milkshake and the straw gurgled as it sucked air between the last of the frosty cream. While he crossed over to the rack of aprons, her gaze drifted down to the floor. The off-kilter shelf had shifted away from the wall, revealing a large dust bunny.

Narrowing her eyes, she tried to get a better look at the mound of grey that seemed to cover something else.

“See ya tomorrow, kid?” Dimitri prompted, snapping his name tag against the magnet on the wall.

“Probably!” She lifted her chin.

“Boss says a daycare center has scheduled a trip to the mall, so we might be busy,” he sighed, reaching for his bag. She scooted out of his way and nodded.

“That could be fun. But also noisy,” she offered, glancing up as she mentally noted to warn Belle, Mu, and Timmy that they needed to avoid the food court for lunch. Maybe hide in the café connected to the bookstore.

“Noisy is right.” Dimitri swung his bag over his shoulder.

“Will Dad have to work on the floor?” She lowered her empty milkshake.

“I imagine so,” he paused on his way to the door. When she placed the cup down and blew a raspberry as she slouched, he prompted, “why?”

“It just means I have to keep Mu and Timmy away. They’re trying to prove he’s magic and can blow things up with his mind.” Scowling, she swung her legs a little too hard and the table creaked underneath her.

“Is that why they asked him to heat up their—”

“Lunch?” She crinkled her nose. “Yeah.”

Dimitri sucked in air before bursting into laughter.

“They looked so mad when he used the microwave!” he wheezed, gesturing to the other table with the offending appliance. “Mu’s stink eye nearly killed me!”

“It’s dumb,” Hattie grumbled.

Catching her frustration, Dimitri reeled in his laughter and cleared his throat.

“There’s no harm in it,” he tried. “The boss can be a bit eccentric, and it can be fun to pretend, but I’m sure even Mu and Timmy know he’s not actually able to light things on fire or…” he paused, giving her a curious look, “steal souls.”

“They sure act like he does.” She turned away, cupping her chin in her hands.

“Have you told them it bothers you when they fixate on it?” Dimitri asked sympathetically.

“Yeah, and they ignore it because they think he actually does all of those things.” Her glare hardened.

“You could talk to the boss?”

“I don’t want him to know about the rumors.” After a beat, she looked up to meet Dimitri’s blank expression. “What?”

“He knows,” he said dryly. Her jaw dropped and he softened. “Listen, you might want to just talk with him about the whole Snatcher myth if it’s getting under your skin, but it’s not harming anyone. I think it also gets the store more foot traffic from teens, which isn’t usually our intended demographic. So, in a way, it even helps!”

Hattie groaned, flopping onto her backpack and staring at the ceiling.

“Hang in there, kid.” His shoes tapped against the tile as he walked towards the door. “But just talk to him. See you!”

“Night, Dimitri.” She gave a halfhearted wave as he left. Once the door shut, she fixated on the faint buzz of the lights in the breakroom.

Seconds ticked by.

She heaved herself up, bored with staring blankly and too tired to stew in her frustration any longer. After scooting to the edge of the table, she dropped down with her flipflops slapping against the ground. She intended to toss the milkshake cup and pester her dad while he closed the workshop, but her gaze shifted back towards the shelves. The oddly large dust bunny piqued her curiosity once more and she crossed over.

Crouching down, she prodded the clump of hairs and silver dust. A dead fly was caught in the webbing and bits of dirt or crumbs were suspended on the hairs. But when she pressed down, a firm something lay between her and the tile.

Shifting, she pressed her cheek against the wall and peered into the crack between it and the shelf. Behind the dust bunny lay a small doll, crushed and crumpled.

After a precursory check for spiders, she reached back and pinched one of the doll’s puffy sleeves. The dust bunny tickled her finger, and she crinkled her nose in disgust. As soon as the doll was pulled out into the open, she batted the wad of grey from its mitten hand, and the cloud of minuscule debris floated harmlessly to the ground. She gasped when she held the doll out in the light.

Beneath the grey streaks of grime, a missing button eye, the torn right arm, and a left hand hanging by a single thread, was the prince doll that she had loved so dearly when she was younger. Her heart soared, but the doll’s state soon had guilt souring her joy.

It had been ages. The last time she saw the doll, he had been a bit worn, but still intact. She had been near inconsolable when she lost him. Her dad promised to get her a new, better doll, but she loved the prince doll because of all the memories they shared. Despite all her searching and tears back then, her dad urged her to move on as the doll had continued to elude her. And no wonder! All this time, the doll had been in the breakroom rather than home. He must have somehow fallen behind the shelf at the workshop when she had been playing, only to be shoved deeper and deeper into the dark over the years.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, frowning at the frayed threads where a button used to be. When she poked the remaining button, it wobbled, threatening to soon snap away as well. She brushed back the yarn hair, covered in dust that caused the chestnut hue to appear murky. The felt crown looked more brown than yellow, and ashen stuffing dripped from the doll’s arm and broken wrist.

But… it was still her favorite doll. Though it had been years, relief surged through her chest.

“I’ll clean you up!” she promised to herself, gently giving the dusty, dilapidated doll a soft hug.

She knew how to sew, at least! And she had the materials at home. She could even surprise her dad! He always reacted positively when she showed him the hats or masks she made.

Scrambling to her feet, she carried the doll over to the table. She grabbed a couple of tissues to wrap him up, both hoping to keep him protected and intact and to prevent the dust from spreading in her backpack. She was just tucking him safely into her bag, nestled between new fabric she got from her millinery lessons earlier and a graphic novel that Timmy recommended, when the door thrust open.

She turned, noting her dad’s slouched posture as he removed his apron, which was common on days he had to both open and close the workshop. Holding his hand over his mouth, he tried to cover a wide yawn, but his sharp fangs still glinted in the light.

“Time to go?” Hattie prompted while zipping up her backpack.

“Finally, yes.” He paused, glancing towards the shelves. “Did Dimitri refill the sewing kits?”

She shrugged in Dimitri-solidarity when her dad turned back around. He accepted it without further prodding and tossed his apron onto a hook.

Hattie slipped on her backpack gently to keep from jostling the doll as her dad pulled out his hair tie and scratched at his scalp. He grabbed his keys and waited for Hattie to shuffle over.

Once he finished locking up and took her hand to lead her through the dark parking lot, she mentally went through the list of supplies she needed to fix up the prince doll. Neither she nor her dad said a word as their footsteps tapped against the still warm gravel. But that was normal for them. Her dad didn’t usually have much to say unless otherwise prompted by people or work, especially when he was tired. So, she continued her quiet pondering all the way home, staring blankly at the streetlights as the radio played family-friendly tunes at a hushed volume.

As soon as they got home, Hattie dashed into her room. She swept her arm across her workbench to clear away the new beret she was making and placed her top hat on the hat display stand her teacher had given her. Since she only had one, it was her favorite top hat that got the place of honor. Then, she dropped her backpack onto the ground and retrieved the prince doll.

He lay on the tissues that were now smeared with grey. Even just folding back the material caused Hattie to swiftly turn away and sneeze, jostling him as he perched on her palm. She’d need to clean the doll, but the open cuts in his arms worried her. After prodding around, she decided it might be better to pluck out the dusty stuffing, since his arms were closed off from his main body anyway. The loose button, too, she thought to remove to ensure easier cleaning.

She got to work, walking back and forth between her room and the bathroom as she ferried supplies. If her dad wondered what she was up to, he didn’t comment as he settled down in the living room to quietly read.

Setting up a doll bath in the sink by lowering the plug, she submerged the doll into the water with iridescent bubbles lining the porcelain. His one arm threatened to come off and his other hand floated at an odd angle. Undaunted, Hattie stuck out her tongue as she scrubbed the dust and cobwebs from his hair. The felt crown popped off at one point, and while she rescued it, the original gilded color seemed beyond saving so she decided to replace it. But she kept the crown nearby so that she could copy the size and shape.

Once the years of neglect were scrubbed away, Hattie drained the sink and rinsed the soap suds from the doll. The chest felt heavy with the water, even more than the lolling head. But hopefully the doll would dry just fine.

While wringing out the water, she tried to squeeze the doll gently, intent on preserving the fragile threads. Finally, she laid him out on a towel and used another to dab up as much water as she could. Wondering if she could borrow her dad’s hairdryer to speed up the process, she hurried into the living room.

“Da-ad,” she called as she padded onto the carpet. “Where’s your hairdryer?”

“Under the sink in my bathroom. Why?” He turned the page of his novel without looking up.

“It’s a surprise.” Arcing around the table, she peeked at the title. She recognized it as Ember’s latest recommendation from her book club. Curious, she slipped over to the armrest where he reclined. She leaned over his shoulder and identified Ember’s annotations that lined the margins in pencil, confirming that she had loved it enough to lend him the book.

“Should I be worried about this surprise?” he asked, unbothered by her hovering.

“Nope!” she chirped cheerfully as she jumped back to face him.

“Carry on, then,” he muttered, his golden eyes flittering back and forth as he read.

The amber light from the lamp behind him skipped across the strands of his hair, painting the coal-colored locks with flickers of iridescent violets. With his cheek pressed into his palm and his elbow on the armrest, his gaze momentarily flickered away from the book as he used his pinky finger to turn to the next page.

“Need something else, kiddo?”

Instead of answering right away, she hopped onto the couch and crawled onto his chest. He held still as she flopped onto her back, staring up at the book.

“Is the story good?” she prompted.

“It’s crafted well.”

“But are you enjoying it?” She tilted her head back into his shoulder. He kept his eyes ahead.

“Not really.” He sounded calm as he said it.

“But you don’t hate it?” she clarified.

“No.” He turned the page.

She sighed, not expecting anything different.

Usually, it didn’t matter. But she didn’t want the same reaction if she asked how he felt about the rumors of the Snatcher. She knew Dimitri thought she needed to talk to him about it but…

“What would you do if you had magic powers?” she asked instead.

“What?” That got him to look down. He quirked a brow and she shrugged.

“If I had magic powers, I would make my top hat like a bag of holding. I could carry all my stuff everywhere and be prepared for anything.”

“Oh.” He relaxed and lifted his gaze back to his novel.

“So, what would you do?” she repeated.

“Hm?”

“What would you do with magic?”

He hummed, lifting his head and reaching over to help steady the book as he turned the page. Once he settled back, he shrugged.

“I’d use it to heat up my coffee.”

For a split second, she wondered if he was also privy to Timmy’s and Mu’s speculations.

“That’s boring.” She narrowed her eyes.

“I’m a boring person,” he provided.

She grumbled and he continued to read. Scooting closer to his arm holding the book, she wedged herself into the crook formed by him and the back of the couch. He shifted slightly, but otherwise let her get comfortable. She curled up so that the side of her head pressed against his chest.

There was a muffled crackling sound, like crinkled paper.

“Hey Dad, do you know about the Snatcher?” She tensed.

“You mean what everyone calls me at work?” He managed a snort. “Or do you mean all that talk of soul-stealing?”

She snapped her head up, baffled.

“Y-you’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He met her gaze, though from the way his palm squished his cheek and he leaned back, he seemed far from interested.

“Because it’s not true!” She gestured wildly. “Isn’t that something your dumb books talk about? Unfair deformation of character.”

“I think you mean defamation,” he corrected with a sly grin.

“That too!” she insisted.

“It gets us more customers and makes my job more interesting. So, no. It doesn’t bother me.” He started to tear his gaze away, “But speaking of my dumb books—”

“But you don’t snatch souls or eat them!” She sat up, knocking his book back. He huffed as he lowered his arm. She perched on his stomach. “People are scared of you!”

“There are worst things,” he said in a lackadaisical tone. Since he couldn’t read, he swiveled his head in his chin to look out at the living room. He tapped his sharp nails against his cheek pensively.

“But Dad—”

“Hattie, it doesn’t bother me,” he interrupted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t you have something you were in the middle of? The whole Snatcher thing doesn’t matter. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from pouting.

“But why doesn’t it bother you?” she tried once more after a moment.

“Kid, that’s enough.” He wiggled his arm trapped behind her back to coax her off. “Go run along.” He suddenly sucked in a breath and covered a noisy yawn. The creases under his eyes deepened as the shadows stretched away from the light.

Hattie deflated.

“Fine,” she grumbled, scooting forward.

He grunted when she leapt off his stomach, but his focus returned to reading without another comment.

Hattie retrieved his hairdryer and returned to her bathroom, where the prince doll remained drenched. She turned the setting to no heat and plugged it in. While the drone of the hairdryer filled the bathroom, she zoned out.

All this time, she had been trying to shelter her dad from the rumors but apparently, she was the only one who cared that people thought he could suck souls out with his fangs like some sort of vampire who loved to sunbathe and didn’t mind garlic.

“It’s not fair,” she muttered under the whirling hairdryer. She glared down at the faceless prince doll. His mitten hand fluttered precariously while the gash in his bicep caught air and caused his arm to fluff up like it had stuffing again.

Her features softened as she carefully tilted the dryer back and forth.

She would rather her dad wasn’t upset by the rumors, which is why she waited so long to say anything, but somehow it felt lonelier than ever when she was the only one who cared.

With a slight slouch, she turned the dryer away and then carefully rolled the doll onto his stomach. She finished drying him out and placed him on a fresh towel while she cleaned up. And though she passed her dad as he returned from the kitchen with a steaming mug while she was on her way to the laundry room, he didn’t question her bundle of towels under his hairdryer.

Her step gained an enthusiastic bounce when she was finally ready to fix the doll. She carried him back to her workbench and gingerly set him down. For reference, she carefully pried the old storybook from her shelf and opened to the most crinkled set of pages, worn from love and constant rereads under her covers at night.

“Here it is, Prince!” She presented the first illustration of the kindly character with puffy sleeves greeting bluebirds, bunnies, and deer. She winced at the doll’s blank face. “Whoops. You can’t see. But don’t worry! I’ll fix that!”

She propped the book back against the worktable and used the beret and open sewing kit to pin it open. After she grabbed a handful of stuffing from her reserves in one of the drawers, found a button to match his eye, and sorted through the spools she’d need, she finally sat down.

Now that the doll was clean, his vibrant crimson coat and purple boots looked just like the illustration. But the blush on his cheeks had faded and one of the stitches meant to look like laces on his boots had frayed. With steady hands familiar with detail work from all her hat making, she looped thread through a sharp needle and got to work.

Fixing the boot and resewing the buttons was a bit tricky, but once the prince had his eyes again, his blank features regained the warmth she remembered. She stuck her tongue out as she restuffed his arms. At first, she wondered if she could add a little muscle definition but no matter how she finagled the lumps, she couldn’t get them to look right.

“Sorry, you’re stuck with noodles for arms,” she lamented dramatically, tugging out the extra fluff.

His large button eyes stared at the ceiling.

The final challenge was stitching his hand back on, and only because the mitten hand was so tiny. She struggled to keep it in place as she threaded the needle through his wrist. After having to backtrack and redo the area a couple times, she eventually got the hand snuggly back into place. The stitches lined his wrist, mostly concealed by the edges of his sleeve.

Then, she only needed to close the tear in his bicep and was able to hide the work under the gold band of his puffy shoulder. Once she placed the scissors down after snipping the final thread, she leaned back with an exhale. As she stretched out her back, she appraised her work.

“How do you feel?” she asked, cupping the prince doll and giving his arm and wrist a few squeezes. When she tapped his button eyes to ensure they remained firmly in place, she glanced up at the illustration to compare. She jolted.

“Your crown!” She whirled around, looking for the dull accessory that had popped off during the cleaning. Her head snapped down and she heaved a sigh of relief when she noticed it had fallen onto her carpet.

She grabbed the felt crown and procured a piece of scrap cloth leftover from the bright yellow beret she intended to give to her dad when it was finished. Snipping the dull crown to flatten it out, she traced its pattern on the scrap fabric. After she cut it out, she glued the edges together, careful to keep it seamless as she held the ends with tweezers.

“Perfect!” She held the new crown next to the prince’s head. She found a lump near the base of the yarn hair where the other crown had been glued previously and glued on the new crown its place. Once the glue had dried and the crown remained fastened to his head, Hattie beamed at her work.

“You look perfect!” She leapt to her feet, hugging the doll to her chest. “Let’s show you to Dad!” She darted over to the living room, shouts of excitement welling from her pride, but she skidded to a stop when she found him fast asleep on the couch.

She heaved out a sigh that dissolved into a blown raspberry.

Oh well.

Since even the book flopped open on his chest visibly quivered from his shivering, she crossed over to the wicker basket filled with throws and blankets and grabbed his favorite from the top. She dragged it over him with one hand, but when she reached the book with pages folding at odd angles, she looked from the blanket pinched in one hand and the prince doll cradled in the other.

“Watch him for me for a second,” she whispered to the prince, dropping the blanket and trading him for the book.

Her dad flinched in his sleep at the sudden shift, but she was too busy locating his bookmark on the coffee table to notice. After guessing where he left off, she placed the closed book next to his mug, which still had a puddle of coffee. She turned back around to find her dad twitching.

“Dad?” She reached out but recoiled at how much heat he radiated.

While his eyes remained squeezed shut, his chest jerked under the limp doll. Panicked panting gripped his restless slumber but before Hattie could try to wake him, he turned to his side, flinging the doll away as he twisted. Hattie bent to catch the prince as her dad’s breathing slowly returned to a calmer pace.

She placed the doll back on the table, fretting as she watched her dad’s tight brows relax. His long, spiky black hair tumbled over his sweaty features, but once his exhales fluttered out like a flickering ember, he began shivering again. Hattie crinkled her nose, holding the back of her hand to his forehead covered by hair and then to his clawed fingers.

Almost like ice.

Unsure whether she wanted to wake him after that, she tugged the blanket the rest of the way and watched him for a few seconds longer. He usually felt colder at night, often kindling the image of a campfire dwindling as those around it slept, but his sudden spike in temperature concerned her.

Was he getting sick?

A few more moments passed, and he remained steady. Hattie gnawed on her lip but decided not to worry. If she woke him up when nothing was wrong, he’d just get grumpy. She’d make sure to check on him later, though.

When grabbing the prince doll, she found it trembled in her palm. She tried to meter her own breathing to soothe herself, thinking her dad’s temperature spike had left her more shaken than she realized. She calmed enough to stop shivering after nestling the doll into the plush pile next to her pillow. But as she walked away to get ready for bed, she did not realize that the prince doll continued to tremble on his own.

Slowly, and like a heartbeat that just remembered its pulse.

#a hat in time #ahit prince #ahit snatcher #ahit hat kid #ahit dadtcher #build-a-bear au #my writing #friend art #smieska-draws #smieska #*Jessie's song from toy story 2 plays in the distance*#'so the years went by~ i stayed the same~'#'i was left alone...'#i love this au for all the accidental toy story refs we can squeeze in #but also when somebody loved me is just a prince song... look deep into your heart... you know its true #ANYWAY I LOVE THIS ART SO MUCH GO GIVE SMIESKA ALL THE LOVE #THIS IS IT!!! THIS IS THE PIECE THAT INSPIRED ME SO MUCH I HAD TO WRITE THE MOONJUMPER BIT ;O;#LITERALLY HAD IT OPEN ON ONE SIDE OF THE SCREEN WITH THE WORD DOCUMENT ON THE OTHER #DOLL PRINCE IS JUST SO CUTE!!!!!! LOOK AT HIS LIL ROUNDED TOESES #LOOK AT THAT DETAIL ON THE SLEEVES AND THAT EMBROIDERED HEART #HIS LIL BUTTON EYES AND HIS YARN HAIR!!!!!#THE COWLICK STICKING OUT OF THE CROWN!!!!! ITS INCREDIBLE AND DARLING AND I LOVE HIM #HIS MITTEN HANDS!!!!!!!!#I WANNA GENTLY HOLD HIM #okay i'll stop crying now but seriously GO SHOWER SMIESKA WITH LOVE AND ADORATION AND ALL THE FELT HEARTS

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years

Text

Tan Lines

Pair: George Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: George didn’t tell anyone; Fred just figured it out and then Fred told you. It was quiet simple. So, you take some time to appreciate the younger prankster.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), Dirty talk/praise, bite kink cause yES but probably TRASH. If I forgot any, please dm me.

Notes: Top reader, by the waayyy

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

George never liked admitting that he, sometimes, didn’t feel special. Sometimes, he felt trapped in his ever so slightly older brother's shadow-after all, Fred does initiate a lot of the pranks they were famous for before leaving Hogwarts. Fred got a lot of the credit and praise and was always the ever so slightly louder one. After all, it was always Fred and George, never the other way around. It was never Fred's fault, he did try to give the younger twin credit where credit was due, but it was like people didn't care. They were identical, basically one person to most, why did it matter who came up with one prank?

While he never voiced it to Fred, George was sure he knew. He could probably tell from his sad eyes or sleepless nights alone. George wasn’t exactly surprised when it happened, but appreciated the little compliments his twin would give him, whether it was over something as simple as tying his own tie on the first try. It was thoughtful.

While Fred had tried to help his brother by himself, you remained clueless and left out of the loop, much to George’s relief. George didn’t want you worrying yourself with his feelings and being stressed over something like this when they had the whole shop to handle. You didn’t know of his internal battle with self worth or how he was coping with it, that was, until-

“Georgie’s been feeling kinda shitty lately.”

“Wait, he’s been what?” Your voice carried easily in the empty shop. Maybe now was a bad time to tell you, Fred thought as he watched you juggle the boxes in your arms. You were helping the older shop owner stock the shelves while George took a quick break and headed down Diagon Alley for supplies. You managed to balance the bulky box on top of the counter before turning to the twin sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I stated that poorly.” He looked down at his shoes. “It’s nothing too bad, just… He’s just been feeling, I don’t know, lack luster lately.” The tall male moved to fiddled with an arrangement close enough to keep up the conversation. “He didn’t want me to say anything, doesn’t want you worrying and all.”

“He told you before he told me?” You watched his now shaky hands inspect a love potion before quickly setting it down.

“No, he didn’t tell me. The bags under his eyes, the fake smile, the sudden quietness told me enough.” Fred shrugged like it was nothing. “No offense, but I thought you would’ve noticed.” He turned back to you, staring into your eyes for anger.

“I did, he just told me he wasn’t feeling well. Figured it was a bug- Why isn’t he telling me all this?” You chewed on your lip. You’d been dating the younger twin since Hogwarts, 5th year, actually. You thought he would’ve said something. Maybe he had and you missed it? Maybe he thought you’d make fun of him.

“Doesn't want you to worry yourself sick over something you can’t contro-” Fred whipped around to the door when it swung open, revealing George with his arms full of veils, bottles and tiny bags and boxes. How he managed to balance it, neither of you knew, but you both surged forward to help split up the load. “Georgie, mate, you were supposed to grab a few things from Slug and Jiggers, not buy the whole bloody store!” Fred laughed out, hoping he didn’t notice the conversation he just stumbled into.

“Well, you know how it is. Ideas came flooding in once I was inside the shop!” George stepped in deeper, allowing the door to shut behind him. He looked between the two of you when an awkward silence filled itself between gaps. “What did I miss?” He cocked an eyebrow when Fred slowly backed away.

“Nothing, lil’ brother. Don’t worry about it.” With that, he turned around and scurried to the back of the store. Once he got to the door hiding the supplies and stock, he kicked it open and rushed in. Neither of you flinched when the door slammed shut.

George just shrugged, shaking his head as he set the rest of the newest products he splurged on down onto the till counter. He sorted through them quickly, his hands moving with precision, but it began to dwindle when he felt an unmoving gaze on him. He slowly turned to see you standing there, arms still full, just kind of gazing at him.

“What?” He blinked a few times, ideas shifting behind his eyes faster than firebolts. “Come on, doll, use your words.” He laughed gently, turning back to the products, gripping one of the veils and staring at it as he thought. Did he miss a special day? No, he was pretty good with remembering dates. Maybe? “Um- Happy birthday?” He smiled at you, his neck muscles tightening when the smile turned into an awkward grimace when you didn’t smile back. He quickly turned to one of the aisles to grab one of the many firework boxes piled high.

”Why didn’t you tell me?” Your eyes hardened a tiny bit as George scoffed, keeping his back toward you. Was he really going to act like nothing happened? You dumped the stuff in your arms carelessly onto the counter before turning to him once again. Now he was fiddling with the thin but colorful box, choosing to not face you.

“What are you talking about, love?” He let out a soft chuckle that couldn’t sound any faker. George now knew that you knew, but he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. He couldn’t admit it. He had pride. The co-owner heard your footsteps coming up behind him, but did nothing to change the distance.

“Georgie.” Your arms wrapped around his waist as your soft voice fluttered from your lips. Your chest pressed against his back, allowing you to press a kiss to your shoulder. “You can tell me anything, I can keep a secret.” You casted him a soft smile, silently begging him to share the thoughts plaguing his mind. However, he didn’t turn to you. Instead, he just ducked his head down, setting the firework box out of place on the shelf.

“Just feelin’ down, is all.” He shrugged, forgetting you were against him for a solid second before turning his head to look at you. He opened his mouth, but found his words dying before they reached his tongue. He could see the worry, the anxiety behind your eyes and he felt a coldness come across his chest. The tall red-head let out another sigh. “Ok..” He whispered, struggling to find his voice. “Just.. Feeling less than worth all of this.”

“Go on.” You encouraged quietly, turning him around so he didn’t have to crane his neck to see you. He pulled you close into his chest, hiding his head against the base of your neck as he slowly spoke about his insecurities.

Before he knew it, George’s sentences were falling apart and fielding soft sniffles. His grip on you tightened, looking for something to anchor him to a kind reality. Saying everything out loud made it feel so real compared to it just being it his head. Once you were sure he had nothing else to say, you took the reins on the conversation.

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner, bunny.”

“Please, don’t call me that-” George whispered back against your skin, a weak chuckle escaping his lips before he fell silent again. He shifted on the balls of his feet as he pressed his face harder against your skin.

“Hush, bun. You need to know that you're amazing.” You ran your hands across his shoulder blades before they traveled to hold his waist. “Seriously- you stood up against a bright pink power-hungry toad, had the best exit known to Hogwarts history and made your dreams a reality.” You kissed his ear gently. “Sure, some of it was Fred, sure some of it was both of you, but I can count many times you blew away the crowd, just like he did.”

Your heart stuttered a little when George lifted his head to look at you. He had the biggest puppy dog eyes and he didn’t even notice. You found yourself getting lost from his somewhat still sad gaze.

“Really?”

“Alright, since you don’t believe me, I’ll show you.” You stepped away from the precious hug and grabbed his wrist, swiftly spinning around and heading for the flat just up the stairs. The sudden shift in tone had George’s head spinning.

“What?” He choked out, stumbling behind you to try to keep up. He noticed from the corner of his eye, Fred sneaking behind the shelves and sprinting out of the shop. The older twin knew what this meant and it had the younger one blushing a deeper shade of red than his hair.

“I’m gonna show you how amazing you are.” You spun around, pushing open the door to the flat and dragging him inside. You shut the door behind him and spun him back around before landing a soft kiss to his lips. He let out the softest swooning noise you’d ever heard and smiled into the kiss. Your thumb rubbed along the protruding vein on his wrist while your other hand slowly wrapped around his waist and tugged his body closer to yours.

You pulled from the kiss and pulled the male closer, if it was possible. The hand on his wrist trailed up to his bicep, squeezing it gently before going up to his shoulder. You watched him shiver, his cheeks a soft pink from the kiss alone. You let out a breathy chuckle, your lips still close to his, allowing him to feel the puffs of air fan across his lips.

“Will you let me?” Your hands moved to the tie around his neck, slowly undoing it before letting it fall to the floor. Your nimble fingers then moved to the buttons of his dress shirt when he finally nodded his head. You pressed your lips against him again and pushed the shirt off his shoulders allowing it to fall to the ground. Your hands trailed down along his chest and down his sides before moving back up. You savored every shiver and goosebump appearing on his skin. “Let’s head to the bedroom, yeah?”

“Please.” George smiled a little when you let out a soft laugh.

Soon enough, George found himself laying back on his bed, your hand down his trousers. He let out a whine when your palm slid across his dick, his eyelids fluttering shut as your lips trailed along his neck. He jumped when you bit along the side, his free hand coming to the back of your head, gripping your hair tightly.

“Sorry.” You mumbled against his skin, licking across the already bruising skin. He let out a breathy moan of your name when you sucked a spot against his jugular.

"No, you're not. " he laid his head back, softly bucking his hips upward against your hand. "I know you like marking me up." he gripped your hair tighter, his lip trapped between his teeth.

"Ha, yeah." You snorted against his skin, pulling back to look at the marks scattered across his skin. You moved to his shoulder, creating another hickey as your hand trailed up his bare stomach. “You know you're beautiful, right? Like,” you paused to think, your tongue trailing across the speckles in his skin, “You’re freckles remind me of stars.” You knew he was blushing, you could feel it. He always melted because of your compliments and it was precious.

He shuddered against the bed when your nails dragged downward across his toned stomach. You’ve said it once, probably, and you’d say it again, but bless quidditch. You pressed another kiss to his shoulder before latching your mouth to his collarbone.

“Stop teasing me, (Y/n/n)! Come on!” George gripped your hair tighter, his free hand shooting straight between your legs and cupping your own hard-on. Neither of you had taken off any other clothes except for George’s belt. You chuckled against this pale skin and sat up, straddling the male quickly to tug off your shirt.

“Alright, Georgie, alright! I just wanted you to take it slow tonight.” You laughed while his hands found your waist.

“You can do that by going quickly.” George’s hands found your belt, basically ripping it free and throwing it across the room behind him. His pale hands unbuttoned your slacks and tried to tug them out.

“Georgie, that takes away the whole point.” You stood up on the bed, one foot resting against each side of his hip, slipping your slacks and boxers down. You stepped out of them, throwing them over Georgie's head to land with your belt. You jumped off the bed, causing your partner to let out a laugh. “Don’t say a word.” You pointed at the ginger, a playful glare across your lips.

You watched George’s big hands fumble with his own pants before ripping them free. That was when you noticed how his skin on his arms and legs were slightly darker than his chest. The freckled covered bloke had tan lines and not even those could hide the marks you left behind. Fred would probably be able to see said marks tomorrow.

“Like the view, love?” He asked, cockiness overflowing in his voice.

“Of course, sunshine.” You walked back over to the male, running your hand down his chest as you climbed onto the bed. George spread his legs to accommodate you between them and wrapped them around your waist. Your hands moved to his thighs before trailing up to his hips. “How do you wanna do this?”

“Just spell me ready. You’ve been going on for too long. I’d like to shag you while you're hard, y'know?” The red-head grasped your hands tightly, his hips bucking up against yours for emphasis.

“Godric, George. I adore you.” You whispered against his lips. You let go of one of his hands to seamlessly pull your wand out of nowhere and mumbled a few spells under your breath. "Oops, sorry!" you spoke out when he gasped and stiffened on the bed. "Um, it's gonna be cold."

"Yup, I got that."

"Hey, don't sass me!" You slapped his thigh playfully. You cupped the back of his knees and lifted his legs up to wrap snuggly around your waist. It was amusing to see the tall man chewing on his lip in desperation for you. "Ready?"

"Oh, no. Give me a minute." he was back to his sassy self, which had you chuckling silently. "We can just spend the next 20 minutes staring into each othhhmm-" you decided to shut him up by slowly pushing into him. You watched him toss his head back and moan when your hips finally touched his.

"Gonna keep giving me sass?"

"If it gets you to fuck me faster, then yeah." His voice was breathy and his hand was gripping yours harder. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed hard. The ginger had forgotten how good you felt inside him and it was all just crashing down on him.

You shook your head, your laugh now becoming audible. You ground your hips into his, your own groan leaving your lips while his legs tightened aorun dyour waist. Pulling your hips back slowly, you leaned over, your chest touching his, Your hands gripped onto his and hold them beside his head. You shushed him when he complained about going too slow and bucked upwards to meet your slow thrusts.

“Just enjoy it, love.” Your breath casted across his ear as you spoke, causing goosebumps to pop up on his skin. The ginger melted into the mattress, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, holding back his whines. While you were moving slowly, you didn’t exactly press into the male softly. You wanted to pour your soul into everything you gave him.

The posts of the bed collided with the wall with each slow hit and George found himself suddenly grateful the shop was empty- you could probably hear it through the thin walls of the flat. George let out a sob when you angled your hips just right, his legs, somehow, tightening around your hips.

“I love seeing you like this, babe. All spread out and taking me so well. Absolutely breathtaking, huh?” Your mouth was George’s biggest weakness. You grinned when he nodded his head quickly, his chest stuttering while another moan escaped into the room. “Just relax and feel me, love.”

The ginger could feel all of you, every twitch, every vein, every inch. He didn’t know if he should focus on your teeth and lips creating marks across his shoulders and neck, or every noise he managed to drag out of you, or the feel of your hips slowly pushed into him. He was slowly turning into a shuddering mess.

“Fuck (Y/n).” He whined out, his back arching when you pushed into him particularly hard. He could feel a warm pool of precum dripping right below his belly button. He tried to remember a time he leaked this much and came up blank, or maybe his brain was starting to short circuit.

“Shh, love. I got you.” Your nose nuzzled just under his jaw, leaving a soft kiss against his skin. Your hand trailed down his arm and traveled down his body before wrapping around his sensitive cock, jerking it in time with your hips and twisting right at the head. “So good for me, Georgie, so perfect, so wonderful.” Your lips moved to press a soft kiss against his cheek.

“Fuck, (Y/n), I’m-” His breath caught again when you moved both your hips and your hand faster.

“Don’t hold back.” You licked your lips. Soon enough, George was crying out, his hand gripping the sheets hard enough to make the veins in his arms pop up while his entire body went stiff. Your hips slowed to a stop, but your hand kept going, allowing the male to ride out his orgasm. “That’s it, good boy.”

Once the freckle covered male was gasping from overstimulation, you let go of him and slowly pulled out and laid next to him. You watched his face while your arms rubbed his shoulders. He let out a sigh as he melted into the plush bed once again, every ounce of tension leaving his body.

“Do you feel better, Geo?” Your eyes trailed along his muscular shoulders covered in bite marks and hickies and felt pride swell in your chest. Your thumb swept across a particularly deep bite, causing your partner to jump.

“A little bit.” He smiled at you, his eyes filled with love and pure admiration. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I thought I could handle the baggage myself.” He reached over to cup your cheek.

“When are you gonna learn you don’t have to carry it yourself?” You asked, leaning into the touch. His hands were rough and calloused but the gentleness of the touch had you swooning.

“Probably when the baggage almost kills me.” He snickered, leaning in to press his lips against yours. His lips were, surprisingly, not as chapped as yours. You both grinned into the kiss. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. George was the first one to pull away.

“I love you so much, George. Seriously, you’re so perfect and wonderful and other adjectives that mean great and Godric.” You cupped both of his cheeks, planting a swift kiss against his swollen lips.

“I love you more, and if you give me a minute, I’ll prove it.”

“Godric, this is why I adore you.” and with that, you slammed your lips against his.

The next morning, George came out of the bedroom, a new prep in his step. He was practically skipping around the kitchen, almost missing his red-headed counterpart.

“So, feeling better after your alone time with (Y/n)?” Fred asked as he leaned against the counter, a smirk hidden behind the rim of his tea cup.

“Yeah, we managed to talk everything out and I do feel better.” George stretched his arms above his head before pouring himself a cup of tea, and turning to his snickering brother. “What?”

“Nothing, but just a fair warning, you should most definitely wear a turtleneck before showing yourself in the shop.” Fred pointed to his neck and shoulders before putting his tea cup in the sink. “Maybe make it less obvious you got something other than stocking shelves done last night.”

“Shut it, Fred.”

#george weasley x male reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley smut #male reader #x male reader #hp imagine #hp x male reader #fred weasley #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

586 notes · View notes

20moonchild21 · 3 years

Text

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 5

[pairings]

JK x female!oc, Jin x female!oc, bunny!JK x human!oc, leopard!Jin x human!oc, JK x female!oc x Jin

[warnings]

mentiones of abusement, injuries, injured Jin, traumatized Jin and JK, suffering, angst, mentiones of feeling guilty, too much fluff

[words]

4.3k

[author]

I am so excited to finally add Jin properly to the story. I really hope you like the new chapter. The next update will next Sunday, because I am still stuck in my exam period.

Also, if you are looking for some other Hybrid!Bts au stories, I have a few pretty good recommendations for you.

My personal favorite is Inferiority complex written by @starlightauroras-writes. Please check out her story and leave a lot of likes. Her story s amazing!🥰

Don’t forget to also check out my other recommendations that I linked below that chapter.

Of you have any criticism or recommendations or other wishes, there is no need to be afraid to write me. I am open for any kind of messages as long as they are constructive! Don’t forget to like and leave a comment, so I know I can continue!

Also, thank you for all the likes and cute messages you left under the other chapters. It always makes me happy!

By the way, did you watch JK‘s livestream yesterday? He actually read out my comment, and I swear my heart exploded. Best moment in my life🙏🏼🙈🤤

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[chapter 4 ||| chapter 6]

„Is he going to be okay, Hope?” Jungkook whispered, tears still spilling out of his eyes, as he watched his brothers injured upper body lying on the couch in Hope’s apartment.

Once the trio had arrived there, the girl immediately had taken off Jin’s shirt and tried to medicate his injuries. He had several bruises along his ribcage. Hope palpated over them, and finally came to the decision that luckily, that he had no inner bruises or broken bones.

But his scratched were another thing. Some were already starting to heal, but others were deep and looked infected. The girl carefully cleaned them all up with a wet clothe. Every time the wet fabric made contact with the open flesh, she would feel his muscles twitching under her touch. He must feel so much pain. When she was done, she opened her fits aid kid and covered all the deeper cuts up with fresh bandages, so they would catch other infections.

She soaked the cloth again with water, and drove it over the sleeping boy’s face, whipping off all the dust, sweat and dirt. Beside the scratches and bruises, Jin had a really beautiful face. With his plump lips slightly parted, and his deep brown eyes closed, he truly looked like a sleeping beauty.

“Yes, Kookie.” She sighed, as she threw her dirty cloth away. “He is going to be okay. We will keep an eyes on his injured so they won’t get infected again.”

She stood up from the ground, taking all the used supplied with her into the kitchen, where she disposed them in the trash can. For a short moment, she closed her eyes and leant forward onto the counter edge, trying to process the day.

Who could have told her almost three weeks ago, that her world would turn upside down from one second to another?

Studying law, she had read many cases from abused and misused Hybrids. She had read them back and forth, up and down, trying to imagine their how they must feel. But nothing she had read could compare with reality.

Reality had hit her hard since she had seen the real suffering in this world. In the past, she wanted to stand up for Hybrid law, because she thought that they were disadvantaged in this society. But now, now she wanted to stand up for them, because they were suffering in this society. Suffering from the species that called themselves human.

But right now, she could do nothing but being there for those two Hybrids. She had no other choice. She turned around and wated to go back into the living room, when the scenario she saw made her stop in her tracks.

Jin was still lying peacefully on the couch, his chest was rhythmically falling up and down. Jungkook kneeled in front of the couch, so he could be at the same level as the sleeping boy. His hand was still holding Jin’s, as he had pushed himself further up, with his head buried into the creak of Jin’s neck and shoulder. He was slowly moving and rubbing his head along the sensitive skin, spreading his scent all over his brother.

Among Hybrids, scenting was one of the most intimate ways of showing his affection to one another.

The girl stayed silence in the kitchen, just watching how carefully and lovely Jungkook was threatening his brother. She absolutely didn’t want to ruin that moment between those two.

Jungkook spent the whole evening running around the apartment, making sure that Jin was okay. He got him some more blankets to cover his shaking body, pillows to make sure that he head was stable, he made him warm tea, that we always ended up drinking himself, because Jin was still sleeping.

It took the girl much to convince him to at least leave the couch and eat dinner with her at the table, but when his stomach growled loudly, he eventually showed insight and left the sofa.

“Jungkook, he is fine. “ He ripped his gaze away from his brother on the couch. “Come on, I bet Jin would want you to eat your food.”

Jungkook sighed loudly, ears hanging weakly at the side of his head. How could he eat peacefully, when he knew that his brother went through hell and back since his escape. If he just had stayed there, with is old owners, Jin would have never been treatened so badly. But he also would have never met Hope.

He looked up from his plate, just to see the girl looking at him worriedly. She seemed to be often concerned about him. He saw the way she would ask him if he was okay, or how she would tell him to eat enough when he said he wasn’t hungry, or how she would cry and try to conform him the night he broke down.

He didn’t mind though. Never, in his life someone had been worried about him. She gave him anything: a bed to sleep, foot to eat and just a place to feel safe and….home. Even though he had only known her for a little more than three weeks, he felt like this was the place where he belonged.

But even though he was happy she allowed him to live with her, there was also this other voice in his mind. The voice that always reminded him that he was only a guest in her house. And every guest had to leave at some point.

A shiver ran down his spine. He feared the day she would come to him and tell him that he and Jin had to leave. Where would they go? Would they have to go back to their old owners?

No, they were not their old owners. They still were their owners. And this meant that they would have to go back to them. He would never lay in his soft bed again. He would never read in his favourite book again, the one with this little daws and Hobbits. He would never look at the photo wall again, wishing that there was a phot of him and the girl, too.

“What is going on in your pretty little head?” Hope had carefully laid her hand on top of his, a small smirk played on her lips. “I can see your mind racing.”

“I just –“ He wanted to tell her his concerns, but he decided against it. Today was not the day he wanted to hear that they had to leave. “I just – thought about that Jin might be hungry. He looks pretty thin.”

“But he is asleep right now.” She squeezed his hands a little bit. “But as soon as he wakes up, he can eat as much as he wants, okay?”

The Hybrid forced out a small smile and nodded his head. He would just try to enjoy the time that he had left.

After dinner, Jungkook had gone straight back to the couch, curling up beside his brother. Not once this day had done anything else, besides lying next to Jin and waiting for him to wake up. It was cute to watch though. Jungkook had a big heart, and the girl knew that he wished for nothing more than to just get the love back he gave to others.

Earlier, when the witch had told her, that they had given Jungkook up for adoption, Hope had felt a giant stone falling from her heart. She had feared that they would still be looking for him, wanting him back at all it costs.

But with he being free to be adopted, she could sign his papers while re-registering Jin. Even though she had his papers and deed of ownership, she needed to report her adoption to an authority. But she wanted to wait for Jin to fully wake up before she would do so. After all, she didn’t know if he or Jungkook even wanted to be adopted again.

She couldn’t offer them a luxury life. She would first had to make herself a name in the lawyer business, which will take a lot of time, because Hybrid lawyer often don’t get much appreciation. But don’t matter what the both of them will decide, she would have to accept their wishes, even though it would break her heart.

With the bunny Hybrid in her apartment, it was the first time in years that she felt truly happy again. Since her mother had died and her friend moving away for college, she had felt alone in her life. There had been no one to wait for her until she came home from college or work, or someone with whom she could talk at the dinner table.

She truly enjoyed the time with the Hybrid.

She sighed, as she looked over to the sofa, where Jungkook was still curled up next to Jin, reading his favourite book. She smiled when she thought about his fascination with the Hobbits. He had found that book a few weeks ago, while scanning through her book shelf.

He had told her every day what happened in the book, and though she knew the plot of the book back and forth, she listened to everything he told her. Once he had been done with reading through the book, he just read it from the start again, not even thinking about tying another one.

“I think I will go to bed earlier. “ She said, as she made her way over to the sofa, holding a mug with Jungkook’s favourite tea in her hands. “I am pretty tired.”

The bunny looked up from his book. He watched her putting the mug on front of him at the small table, before she took a seat next to him at the sofa.

“Can I – “ Jungkook hesitated for a moment, before he began to speak again. “Can I sleep on the sofa tonight with Jin Hyung. I don’t want to let him alone. What if he wakes up and don’t knows where he is. Or if he –“

“Jungkook.” The girl stopped him, smiling slightly. “Of course you can sleep here. Shall I get your blanket and pillow?”

He quickly nodded, as a small shade of red began to spread over his cheeks. Hope stood up and walked over into his room. Jungkook was a very tidy and organized Hybrid. He made his bed every morning, every piece of clothes in his drawer was exactly folded and stacked up and he even had managed to organize her storage room, the so called ‘Chamber of secrets’, which she had failed to clean up for several years.

(Do you know on which scene from TBBT I am referring to? I love it :D)

She made her way over to the bed, carefully taking the blanket and pillow into her arms, trying to not carry it to close to her body, so her scent wouldn’t be all over it. A smile played on her lips, as she remembered the day when Jungkook insisted on washing Brian’s clothes, because he didn’t like to smell another male on his clothes.

When she turned around to go back to the living room, her eyes caught something on the Hybrid’s desk. Next to desk lamp laid the notebook she gave to Jungkook a few weeks ago. It wasn’t closed like, the open page pointing upwards.

She didn’t want to invite his privacy, but when she saw the sketched lines from the distance, she got curious. She often had wondered whether he was writing or sketching in there, when she watched his hands sliding wildly over the pages.

Hope took a few steps closer, looking back at the door to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t catch her looking at his private things. When she bent over the small back, her heart skipped a beat.

Jungkook had indeed sketched something. The lines were soft and accurate, taking all the space the page could offer. The picture had been drawing from the perspective when sitting at the dining table, the place where the bunny sometimes sat while she worked on her computer.

In the background, she recognized her kitchen, with the white fridge and the small hatch, and in the font ground she saw herself sitting. She was amazed by the precision he had drawn her hair falling over her shoulder and the feature of her face looking concentrated at the laptop in front of her.

Next to the her in the picture, he had written 4 capital letters. The letters were messy and scrawly, but she could read them without problems: 卄口ㄗモ

The girl’s heart swell with love. He had drawn her into his notebook, the place where he kept the deepest thoughts of his mind.

With the proudest smile on her face, she made her way back into the living room. She carefully placed the blanket over and pillow next to Jungkook, before she made her way over to Jin one last time, checking if he was okay.

When she was sure that everything was fine, she made her way over to the front door to turn off the great light in the room. The small lamp next to the TV was now the only source diving the room with cosy and warm light, just enough that Jungkook could still read his book.

“Good night Jungkook. Don’t read too long, you need your sleep.” She walked up behind him and bent down.

With her all braveness bundled, she pressed a short kiss on the top of his fluffy hair, before bending back up. Luckily, the room was dark enough to hide her reddening cheeks, as Jungkook looked up. He closed his small book, laying it to the side.

“Thank you for saving my brother.” He whispered, as he took her hands in his bigger one, squeezing them slightly.

“Anytime.“

When she woke up the next morning, the flat was unusually quiet. Normally, she was woken up by the dull tones of Jungkook’s boxing gloves hitting his punching bag. He would always wake up before her, already finishing his morning workout. She wondered every day, where he took his motivation from, but she didn’t mind though.

She changed into comfortable clothes, and carefully made her way up into the living room, trying to be as quiet as possible, in cases both Hybrids were still sleeping on the sofa. She tippy-toed through the hallway and peeked around the corner.

Jungkook was sprawled out on his back. He had his legs spread, and he blanket was only covering half his body, making his left leg stick out and hanging loosely off of the sofa. With his arms lying beside his head to either side, and his mouth slightly parted, and ears laying loosely on the sofa, he looked like someone had shot him.

Hope smiled at this scene in front of her, slightly shaking her head. It was nice to see how safe and comfortable he felt around here. She moved her gaze away from the bunny, and looked over to the other Hybrid lying on her couch. To her surprise, her eyes met big, brown orbs looking back at her.

“Good morning, Jin.” She said softly, as she went around the corner.

She tried to make her voice as smooth and warm as possible, showing him that she didn’t want to put any harm on him or Jungkook, after all, he didn’t know how happy Jungkook had been over the last weeks.

Jin, however, didn’t reply. His ears were pressed flat against his head, as he kept looking sceptically at the girl, before his gaze fell onto his naked upper body, that was half covered by a blanket.

“We had to take your shirt of yesterday.” The girl quickly said, knowing exactly what was going on in his head. “You have some pretty infected injures. I just wanted to wrap them up. I hope this was okay?”

He hesitated at first, but eventually nodded as a small shade of red covered his cheeks. He pulled the blanket, that had slide down his torso, up a little bit higher. It was obviously embarrassing for him to lay half naked on her couch.

“I think Jungkook wouldn’t mind borrowing you one of his shirts.” She quickly said. “I will get one for you.”

She turned around and got the shirt from Jungkook’s drawer, before going back and giving it to Jin. He carefully reached out and took the piece of hands out of her hands.

“I will just go and make some breakfast.” She was about to leave, before something came into her mind. “You can try waking up Jungkook. He wouldn’t want to miss eating his flakes.”

She made her way into the kitchen and started to prepare the breakfast as she always did each morning. Sometimes, she would hear some deep voices coming from the living room. Jungkook seemed to be awake by now.

“Kook, is it really safe here?” She heard Jin asking, as she was about to get the milk out of the fridge.

“It is, Hyung. Hope is the nicest girl in the world. She even gave me my own room and…” He kept rambling about the most normal things in the world, which made the girl even sadder. He shouldn’t be this exited to have his own bed to sleep in. She sighed and turned her attention back to the fried egg in the pan, before she heard Jungkook’s cracking voice“…I – I really missed you, Hyung. I thought that – that they – “

“Shh. It’s okay, Kook.” Jin whispered back. “I only wanted you to be safe.”

Hope gulped in the kitchen. She knew how much it hurt to loose someone you love. But she didn’t want to imagine how it must feel to not know if someone you love is dead or barely alive and tortured to death.

She waited another 5 minutes, making sure that she would not interrupt the moment, before she carried the pan into the dining room. Jungkook was just pulling away from hugging Jin , before he stood up and stretched his arms into the air, as well as his ears.

“Did you sleep well, Kookie?” The girl asked amused, as she pulled her chair back and took a seat.

Jungkook helped Jin up from the sofa, and led him the way over to the table by holding his hand. He pulled himself his chair back and sat down as well, gesturing for Jin to sat down, too.

“It’s okay.” The bunny said, as he saw Jin’s hesitation. “You can sit down and eat with us.”

Jin’s eyes flicked from Jungkook over to the girl, waiting for her to give him permission. Hope smiled softly at him, as she placed her mug back down and nodded at the standing boy. Jin hesitated again, before he carefully took a seat beside Jungkook, eyes never left the girl to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Do you want to try those flakes?” Jungkook held his bowl directly under Jin’s nose.

The older boy was clearly overwhelmed by the whole situation. His ears kept wildly twitching around, as he sniffed at the bowl, looking confused and scared at the same time.

“No.” He whispered, sinking his head down.

“But you must be hungry, Hyung!” Jungkook had placed his bowl back down in front of himself.

He was asking Jin all over again if he wanted to eat something and why he refused to eat something, but Jin just shook his head every time.

“Jungkook, don’t force him to eat something.” Jungkook dropped his ears but nodded, turning his attention to his own bowl, while the girl spoke now into Jin’s direction. “Jin, you don’t have to eat something if you don’t want to, but you are free to eat whenever and whatever you like. You don’t need to ask for my permission either. Just – do what makes you happy.”

Jin looked at her with wide eyes, still trying to figure out if she was serious or not. He nodded shyly, before he looked at the munching bunny next to him. Jungkook smiled with his mouth closed, before reaching over towards his orange juice. He lifted the glass and gestured for Jin to take it.

Jin’s eyes flicked towards the girl once again, but she avoid his gaze on purpose, pretending to be busy with her toast. With the slowest movement, Jin reached out for the glass, taking it out of Jungkook’s hand. He looked at it, before placing it on his lips.

While he drank, his eyes kept flickering between his brother and the girl, watching every movement form both of them closely. After his glass was empty, he carefully sat it back down on the table. Though he kept his gaze down, Hope saw his eyes flickering over to slices of bread lying in the small basket.

“You can take the bread, Jin.” As soon as she spoke his head shot up, as if he was caught doing something bad. “There is more than enough for the three of us.”

Jungkook confirmed her offer with a quick nod, and eventually, Jin reached his hand out to take a slice of bread. Though he refused to put something onto his bread, Hope was glad he eat something after all.

Breakfast went over without any other incidents. Jin kept munching at his bread, while the girl carefully introduced herself, telling him about her life like she did when she met Jungkook. Jin didn’t reply, he nodded from time to time, but stayed silent.

The only time he actually responded, was when she mentored how she had found Jungkook and taken him in. His ears dropped down onto his head.

“Thank you for saving Jungkook.” He had whispered, before bowing his head slightly.

Once they were done eating, Hope told Jungkook to give Jin a small tour while she would do the dishes. The bunny was more than eager to show his older brother everything in the house. He grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the table.

Hope watched with shaking head, as Jungkook dragged the confused boy into his own room, where she could hear him rambling nonstop about every little detail.

She turned her attention back towards the dishes in the sink. Later that say, she would have to call the authority, to make an appointment for re-registering Jin and signing Jungkook’s adopting papers, of course only if both of them will agree.

She didn’t want to bring the topic up this early. Jin had been here for not even one day. It would be hard for him to decide if he wanted to stay or not, and Jungkook would probably make the same decision as his brother, because he didn’t want to be separated from him again.

This meant she would set the appointment in about 1 week. Hopefully, this would be enough time for Jin to at least trust her enough.

“….And this is the photo wall.” She turned around and looked at Jungkook, who was still holding Jin’s hand. “This is my favourite wall of the entire apartment. I look at the photos every morning or when I am bored….”

She watched as she took a step closer, looking interested at the different photos. Hope honestly didn’t know why Jungkook was so fascinated about the photos hanging on the wall. Sometimes, she would watch him how he sat in front of that wall for over 30 minutes, just staring at the photos.

It was adorable thought. The picture surprise for his birthday was a good idea.

“….And this is Hope at her graduation party. Look, she was one of the best students in her year. She is so smart. And this is Hope and her mom at her mom’s birthday. But her mom died a few years ago. Hope is very sad about this, because she said her mom was the best mom in the world. And this are Hope’s friends from High School…..” Jungkook kept rambling about every single picture, talking about them as if they were the most precious things in the world.

Jin was still staring at the pictures, giving Hope the chance to watch his profile. He was as tall as Jungkook, but definitely slimmer than him. He had shaggy brown hair, that fell smoothly over his forehead. At the top of his head set a pair of fluffy, black, brown and white ears, that twitched back and forth.

It was just now, that the girl actually saw Jin’s tail. Since he was a Leopard, his tail was much longer. It reached about the almost the middle of his calves. It was covered with fluffy fur and black stripes all over.

She broke her staring when she noticed Jungkook finishing his monologue, not wanting to make her new guest uncomfortable.

“Hope!” Jungkook came running up excitingly at the girl when he saw her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Where did this boy take his energy from all the time? “Jin-Hyung likes my room very much. I thought that he might can share my room with me?”

Hope wasn’t surprise by this question. She could tell that both of them were really close, even if she hadn’t known both for long.

“I – ehm – I can also sleep on the fl – “ Jin’s cheeks were covered in red, as he stuttered about sleeping on the floor.

“It’s okay, Jin.” The girl quickly interrupted him. “You can sleep wherever you want to sleep. If you want to share a room with Jungkook, that’s fine by me. There are also 2 more empty bedrooms, so if you change your mind, you can also sleep in there. It’s your choice.”

“Please, share a room with me, yeah?” Jungkook was squeezing and tugging Jin’s hand, begging him to sleep in his room.

“Okay, I – I will share.”

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