#-that we aren’t alone and to feel loved like this should be cradled and comforted and not tossed out for a fear of losing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeymoonjin · 3 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: both non-sexual and sexual pet play, dom!jimin, sub!jk, sub!tae, handjob, yoongi and yn pretending like they don't wanna suck the souls out of each other, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual masturbation

A/N: welcome back to my best boys ;;;;-; this chapter is being cross-posted from ao3. in the future i'll try and upload in both places at the same time!

DAY TWENTY-THREE

It’s two blocks of pure ice that wake Taehyung up that Tuesday morning. Before he’s even really coherent, he’s hissing and tucking into a ball away from the cold.

“Puppy, shh, it’s just me.”

Even as those chilled items that Tae can tentatively identify as feet tuck between his bare legs, he goes lax and accepts the body that wraps around his curled back. “Minnie,” he mumbles, and it’s so quiet that the older boy probably doesn’t hear, but his grip tightens anyway. “‘What time ‘s it?”

“Early, I’m sorry.” Jimin’s voice, unlike his thawing toes, blows warm across the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Missed you.”

A sleepy smile of bliss crosses Taehyung’s face for exactly three seconds, at which point he recalls the fact that he didn’t go to sleep alone tonight. Shooting up so quickly that his shoulder catches Jimin’s chin, Taehyung peels his eyes open to see Jungkook, awkwardly hugging a pillow to his chest with his legs crossed.

He bites his lip, avoiding their gazes. “Sorry, I, uh, don’t mean to disturb.”

“Shoot.” Jimin rubs his face blearily. “I didn’t see you there, Jungkookie. I should go-”

“No, no, stay,” Taehyung begs hurriedly, launching himself back onto the mattress and wiggling himself back into the curve of Jimin’s front. “Jungkook, um, you can come cuddle too if you want. I like being middle spoon.”

The youngest gazes back and forth at them, never resting long enough for eye contact. His indecision is palpable, but there’s a pleased glimmer too. “Is that...okay with Jimin-hyung? I don’t wanna intrude.”

Jimin’s voice is soft, his eyes slipping closed as he eases his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, arms snaking around his torso. “You can be a part of us too, Jungkookie.”

The words are perhaps more intimate than Jimin even realises, and in the vulnerable setting of a bed in the early morning hours, Jungkook’s hard swallow is audible, before he slowly puts the pillow aside and tucks his feet under the covers, slipping down. It’s not until Taehyung’s arm is his headrest and the other one provides a comforting weight low on his hips that he speaks up again. “Do you… do you mean that just for now, or… Or for good?”

“What do you think, Minnie?” Taehyung’s fingertips trace lazily over the bare skin that’s exposed by Jungkook’s shirt riding up. “Can we keep him?”

Jimin hums in affirmation. He’s just about asleep again, but Taehyung can feel his pleased smile against his shoulder. “Of course we can, puppy.”

The repeated nickname causes Taehyung’s heart to twitch just as his dick does. It’s no less endearing and special, but Jungkook is still perfectly awake and right there, and it feels a little confronting.

But Jungkook just chuckles, twisting around in Taehyung’s slack embrace to face him, eyes bright. “If you’re a puppy, what am I?”

Taehyung’s careful not to jostle Jimin. He’s begun snoring, nothing more audible than regular snuffling, but still Tae doesn’t want to disturb that rest. “What do you mean, Jungkookie?”

He scrunches his nose, thinking away. “Well, there’s Minnie and there’s puppy. I want a cute nickname too if I’m gonna be - you know - with you guys.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung begins haltingly, “Jimin calls me puppy because… God, it feels silly saying it out loud. He calls me puppy because sometimes when we’re together I go into puppyspace. You know; like petplay.”

“That’s not silly,” Jungkook says reflexively, even as his eyes widen and lips part. “What’s it like?”

“Puppyspace?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook nods eagerly, and the motion is transferred through Tae where they connect, making Jimin grunt and bury his nose deeper into the crook of his neck. “It’s so peaceful, Jungkookie. He takes care of me so I don’t have to think. I can nap and cuddle and play, without all of the stresses of life. It feels all warm and cosy, you know? I love it.”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in wonder, his fingers finding their way to Taehyung’s worn black sleepshirt, fiddling with the hem. “Can I try? How do you… how do you know if you can do it?”

Behind Taehyung, Jimin lets out a half-asleep groan, his nose pressing against the taller one’s back. “Of course you can try. Let’s just sleep for now, though? I’m sure Minnie can play with both of us later.”

It’s that promise that allows Jungkook to settle, nodding with a tentative hum and shifting down so that his head can rest in the crook of Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung falls back under like this, with a heartbeat thrumming against his back and soft, even breaths tickling his bared shoulder.

“Hobi?”

Hoseok pauses, frothed toothbrush clamped between his teeth. “Mmng?”

“I don’t-” you cut yourself off, clearing your throat to dislodge the thickness that distorts your voice. “Can we not tell them?”

He bends over to quickly spit out the majority of toothpaste, but when he stands upright to face you again there’s a smear on his chin. “Tell them what?”

You blink. “Last night. I just… I don’t want them to- to pity me or treat me like I’m glass or anything. I know it won’t happen again, it was just…” Shrugging hopelessly, you give up on trying to put words to it. “I don’t know.”

The dom remains silent for a few moments, lips pursed in thought. “The chicken must have been bad,” he concludes.

Bewildered, you cock your head to the side. “Huh? What chicken?”

“You and I went out for dinner at this fried chicken place, but when you got home last night it made you sick. That’s why you aren’t quite yourself today. I’ll get Yoongi-hyung to make some hangover soup.” His eyes are warm, pulling you into a comforting one-armed hug. “Just the chicken, that’s all. Yeah?”

You swallow down the swell of gratitude and instead bury yourself into his safe embrace. “Yeah. That’s all.”

To his credit, Yoongi doesn’t ask questions, pushing all his concern into his cooking. The doctor all but feeds you himself, hovering with a furrowed brow and a napkin. Strangely enough, his fussing goes a long way in cheering you up, and you let the events of yesterday wash away with the salty broth.

Hoseok hangs around for a while before going down to do some laundry, Namjoon briefly jumps in to steal a spoonful directly from the pan, eyes never leaving the novel he’s holding open with a single hand. Even Jungkook stumbles in blearily at one point, nose first, requesting an extra two bowls for Jimin and Taehyung as well.

You’re onto your second serving by the time it’s just Yoongi and you. He’s pulled up a chair beside you, cradling a coffee. “I got a text this morning, you know,” he begins gently. “I can ignore it if you’re not up to it.”

It takes you a moment to process his words, recalling Sejin’s instructions the day prior. “It’s your day, then?” He nods silently, scanning you for any reaction. You hum, spoon swirling lazily in the dregs of your breakfast. “I’m up to it,” you answer finally, “if you are.”

“Always,” Yoongi replies immediately, voice bared and soft. His hand passes over yours, squeezing briefly, before he stands up and clears the bowls from the table. “Aspirin is in the pantry if you need it, blue container.”

You give him your thanks, left alone as he disappears upstairs.

Grabbing a glass and pouring yourself some water, you track down the aspirin and take out two tablets, grimacing as the bitterness sticks to your tongue. While you may not actually be sick, a headache was beginning to bloom between your brows.

So much had happened in the past few days, you almost felt like you’d gotten whiplash. The early days of lounging around the house and chasing pleasure seemed so distant. Feelings tangled things up more each day, unraveling quicker than you can get a hold on them.

It wasn’t just you, either. You saw the way the guys looked at each other, how gentle they were, how thoughtful. It was in the little things. Jungkook’s laundry pile started featuring clothes from the other maknaes; Namjoon and Hoseok always sat so close together, even when there was room on the couch; Yoongi had started giving the others bigger portions when he cooked, even as his stayed the same. And Jin…

You startle when a door opens, glass almost slipping from your hands. It’s the unfilmed room across the stairs. You frown as a tall figure slips out, swamped in a massive pink hoodie that you’d never seen in the house before. A sleeve-covered hand reaches up to rub under the hood, dark hair poking out. Your breath catches. Jin…

He moves across the hall gingerly like his body aches, hand never leaving his face as he grumbles sleepily. For a split second, your mind entertains the thought of sprinting past before he sees you, avoiding the conflict that is no doubt upon you.

But only for a split second. Because the only thing worse than being confronted by him is not seeing him at all. You wait, instead, until he rolls his shoulders back, tipping his face to the ceiling to stretch out his spine. The hood falls back, exposing a serious case of bedhead, tired eyes, and sallow skin. But it’s Jin nonetheless, beautiful despite his apparent exhaustion, and your heart breaks again for being the one to cause this.

He notices you when his head comes back down from the stretch, and were you not in such despair you may have cracked a smile at the way he jumps. “Y/n…” he mumbles, voice barely audible.

Your mouth goes dry. Even if it wasn’t you don’t know what to say, simply bracing yourself for anger.

He doesn’t stiffen his features, however, simply watching you with melancholy eyes. “You look sad,” he says weakly.

Your heart is racing a hundred beats a second at just hearing him speak to you, and it takes you that much time just to process his words, eyes pricking sharply. “I am sad,” you reply honestly, blinking the wetness away. “You look tired,” you whisper in return.

His bottom lip trembles, before flattening tightly. Instead of responding verbally, he just nods.

The two of you sit in that silence for a while. Jin’s breathing is ragged, his eyes unfocused as they slip past you. You think you might be sick with the way your stomach flips.

Finally, you can’t stand the silence. “Are you still mad at-” you begin, but your words die in your throat as you’re enveloped tightly by him, clutching you so close that your chest constricts. The tensed breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a sob, and your arms fly up to hug him back, just as tightly.

There’s nothing more than just a simple hug, but your heart is still full, almost overwhelmed by the cathartic relief of having him close to you again, his chin resting on the crown of your head, his hands rubbing circles on your back, the gentle sway as he rocks you in the hold.

It lasts for an eternity too short, and when he pulls away you feel untethered, already pining for that contact again.

His eyes are swimming, though you see the way he tightens his jaw to hold it back. “I’m devastated,” he admits, “but I miss you too much to ice you out like this. I need time but god, I don’t want space. Can you give me time?”

You’re nodding hastily, sniffing as your nose threatens to run. “Of course, Jin. I’ll be here. I… I think I-”

“Don’t-” he interrupts sharply, sucking in a shaky breath. “Don’t let now be the first time we say it. Later,” he promises.

We. Your skin breaks out in goosebumps, electricity thrumming along your nerves. You let that word settle you, repeating it in your head as Jin sends you a sad smile - but a smile nonetheless - and takes his leave, disappearing upstairs.

You decide to take a bath, in the end, letting yourself soak in the thought of “we” a little longer.

“So, what, we start barking? Chew on some sticks?”

Taehyung colours violently and Jimin sends Jungkook a sharp glare in rebuke. “Say less,” he scolds the youngest, before reaching up to run his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, breaking up the curls. “We just ease into it. Taehyung doesn’t use it for humiliation or anything like that, he just likes being taken care of. Isn’t that right, pup?”

Taehyung hums, eyes already fluttering as he leans his head into Jimin’s palm. The three of them had migrated onto Taehyung’s now-made bed after their breakfast after Jungkook once again mentioned wanting to try petplay.

Significantly larger than Jimin, Taehyung has to awkwardly shuffle down the mattress further to rest his head in Jimin’s lap, but Jungkook can immediately see the lines of stress that melt away once he does so. Jimin smooths his hand down to cup the younger’s chin, delicately stroking the soft flesh as if he were patting a sleepy dog.

“You’ll just watch for now,” Jimin instructs Jungkook without removing his gaze from Taehyung, “and if it feels right, you can join in. There are no expectations and no rules, only to respect the process and don’t disrupt Tae’s petspace. Got it?”

Jungkook swallows as Jimin chooses that point to lift his steeled gaze, brows high as he waits for Jungkook to agree. “Got it,” the youngest confirms. He gets comfy, tucking his feet under him and leaning up against the pillows.

“Such a lucky boy,” the dom begins with his voice like melted sugar. “Dogs aren’t meant to be up on the furniture. But you’ve been good lately, so I thought I’d treat you.”

Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed. He shuffles slightly, stretching one leg out until his ankle dangles off the edge of the mattress, but doesn’t audibly respond.

Jimin chuckles fondly through his nose, hand running down to rub up and down Taehyung’s clothed tummy, which is now facing upwards. “Oh, pup,” he coos, “you must be tired after the big walk. How about we rest for a bit, and we can play later?” Instead of waiting for a response, the dom just gasps like he’s forgotten something important. “Oh! Your collar! I must’ve taken it off when I took off the leash. Never mind; Jungkook, dear, could you get me the brush and collar out of the bedside table? Bottom drawer.”

It feels like the very particles in the air shift when Jungkook is ripped away from the observer role and into an active participant. He swallows away the dryness in his throat to little avail and nods, fumbling with the drawer handle and pulling out a barely-used hairbrush and velvet dog collar. “These?” he asks redundantly, nerves settling when Jimin gives him a pleased smile and holds out his hand.

“Alright, little puppy,” Jimin announces, his voice lilting easily back into the candyfloss tone that all owners used with their pets. “Let’s give you a brush before we put your collar back on. I don’t want your coat getting matted.”

Taehyung gives a small, throaty hum and lifts himself laboriously up onto his elbows, tipping his head up to his master. Jimin pats his cheek warmly and calls him a good boy, and Jungkook gets a front row seat to the beautiful sight of a sleepy, lusty Kim Taehyung going pink in the face, a shy smile twitching his lip.

‘Brushing his coat’ is just brushing his hair, but even Jungkook can see that the technique is slightly different. Jimin does it slowly, methodically, line by line from the front to the back, then reaching around to the nape of his neck to give it a good brushing there - Taehyung all but shivers at each swoop of the brush - even folding down each ear when he goes past. Watching it is nothing short of mesmerising, and Jungkook feels his spine tingle, wanting to feel it too.

Was it too soon to join? He could always ask for the brush later, he decided. Though even as he reached that conclusion, the thought was slipping out of his mind sand through fingers, hazier and hazier the more he listened to Jimin’s lull tone and watched his patient movements.

“There we go,” the dom whispers, passing the brush over one last time to settle all the curls in their rightful place, “much better now. Chin up, pup; time for your collar.”

Taehyung’s chin lifts the minutest of degrees. Jimin waits for a moment, but the brown-haired boy looks almost like he’s falling asleep on the spot, swaying slightly as his elbows prop him up.

“Silly me,” Jimin tuts with a smile, reaching out to manually adjust Taehyung how he wants him. “Doggies can’t understand human words, can they?” Like a proud parent, he turns to Jungkook, grin widening as he sees the state the boy is in. “I am trying to teach Tae-tae some commands. Sit, lie down, wait. Suck. He’s getting better.”

With that, the dom grabs the collar off the duvet and fiddles with the buckle, undoing it so that he can wrap it carefully around Taehyung’s neck. The process reminds Jungkook much of what happened when his parents put a collar on his childhood dog: slipping a finger under the material to test how snug it was, shifting it around until the small dangling pendant was to the front, giving it a little tug to ensure the buckle was on right.

At the gentle tug, Taehyung practically topples, going lax with his face down on Jimin’s thigh and snuggling down, breaths even. Jimin doesn’t comment on it, simply humming in acknowledgement and returning to softly stroking his back and shoulders. But he does glance over to Jungkook again, eyes glinting. “Do you wanna come a little closer, hm?”

At the invitation, Jungkook almost trips himself scooting over, wrapping his arms around one of Jimin’s and holding it to his chest. Seeing the tender moment shared between Taehyung and Jimin had made him feel positively touch-starved, desperate to feel some of that sweet attention.

Jimin’s eyes widen in bemusement before twisting his hand in Jungkook’s grip and giving his stomach a little scratch. “Goodness me, little energizer bunny, huh?”

Jungkook whines, recognising that higher-pitched voice. He was being talked to like a pet, and the thought made his insides hot. He presses his face against Jimin’s shoulder, feeling the heat on his skin there too.

“No need to get all shy on me now, bun,” Jimin teases. “I’ve already seen that little friend in your pants. Well, I suppose he’s not that little.”

Jungkook tightens his arms around Jimin’s one, wanting to rock his hips up to feel some friction. He just squirms instead, hoping his need is answered. “Jimin-hyung.”

Jimin sucks in a breath. “Can this bunny speak, hm?”

Jungkook blinks, the furnace inside him cooling for a moment. “Am I not… supposed to?”

“I’m not telling you off, I’m asking,” Jimin explains softly, cocking his head down at the potentially-sleeping Taehyung in his lap. “Tae-tae likes to be non-verbal. It’s just preference. Would you rather keep speaking?”

After a moment of thought, Jungkook nods, then props his chin up, sending Jimin his best puppy eyes. “Minnie, I need you,” he pleads in a small voice, writhing against him again.

Jungkook’s fingers curl when Jimin’s hand dips lower suddenly, grasping his length from over the fabric of his sleep shorts. The pleasure is like a bolt that shocks his whole body, and when Jimin strokes him once, the texture of the fabric increasing the friction, the guttural sound that falls from his lips is more animal than human.

Jimin just smiles placidly, patting the throbbing heat once. “Does it hurt, bun? Want me to make it go away?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook’s breath is shallow with excitement. This feels like new territory, relying fully on Jimin to relieve the ache, too helpless, too stupid to do anything about it himself, just a dumb bunny with a generous owner.

“You’re drooling, bun,” Jimin points out, voice raspy with arousal. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook feels fingers at the elastic band of his shorts before Jimin withdraws. He whines, a pout threatening to form, but the dom just runs his fingers and palm over Jungkook’s mouth and chin. Then, when his hand delves in and grips Jungkook, he’s slick with Jungkook’s own drool, the slide wet and hot and electric.

He moans, but saliva won’t stop gathering in the hollows of his mouth. It’s like it’s impossible to close it at all, every firm, purposeful stroke making it harder to do that basic function.

“Noisy boy,” Jimin scolds, though there’s no venom to his tone. “You might wake the puppy up, bun.”

With a strangled groan, Jungkook’s head flops down, his teeth banging against Jimin’s shoulder. A thought floats across his dazed mind, of pressing his teeth into skin, lovebites to colour the bronze.

But his teeth don’t sink into flesh. Fabric fills his mouth. Jimin’s shirt. His teeth don’t stop, though. On the contrary, he chews on the cotton, letting it muffle the sounds he can’t help but make.

“Oh, good boy,” Jimin praises warmly, his hand speeding up mercilessly to pitch Jungkook over the edge. There’s no foreplay, no kisses or teasing touches. His hard cock is a problem that his master is kind enough to solve, that Minnie-hyung is making go away, and he won’t stop until his bunny has finally-

When Jungkook comes, his whole body feels it like an earthquake. Every muscle jerks, pulses so that his toes curl and his core trembles, the drool soaking the fabric of Jimin’s shirt now until he feels it run down his own neck, blubbering through the waves of it.

Jimin slows down after the first burst of cum, but doesn’t stop, only tightening his grip like he’s milking every last drop out.

Once the tides of pleasure have dipped back down again, Jungkook goes boneless, whimpering until the hand finally leaves his softening, oversensitive cock.

He’s panting, all of his body weight on Jimin to stay upright, and it takes a few moments for his senses to properly return to him, his heart still beating erratically in his chest. “Oh, fuck.”

Jimin giggles elfishly, before reaching up to tap on Jungkook’s bottom lip with wet fingers. “You made such a mess, little bunny. Clean it up, now.”

Jungkook welcomes the digits, blinking blearily as the bitter tang of his own cum fills his mouth. He sucks Jimin’s fingers clean two at a time, swirling his tongue between them dutifully. It isn’t until he’s done and Jimin is praising him that he restores enough energy to sit up again.

Across from him, Jimin peels the soaking wet sleeve of his shirt off his shoulder, laughing softly in good humour even as his brows furrow at the weird feeling. Before Jungkook can offer up an apology, Jimin is stripping it off entirely, chucking it away and rubbing at his now-bared chest. “Much better,” he muses to himself. After a moment of letting Jungkook clear his head, Jimin turns to him, his dry hand returning to lazily card through Taehyung’s curls. “How was it, Jungkook?”

“Uh,” Jungkook replies eloquently, feeling the way his cock still throbs every few seconds in aftershocks. “Uh.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jimin states proudly, before sending Jungkook a serious gaze. “We’ll talk later, yeah? When your dick isn’t hanging out.”

Jungkook flushes, scrambles to tuck himself away, and the movement jostles the bed enough that Taehyung groans, craning his neck up with bleary eyes and rumpled hair.

The two sitting on the bed go silent. Jimin cocks his head to the side and cups Taehyung’s cheek. “Were you- Tae-tae, did you just have a nap in the middle of the scene?”

Taehyung beams sleepily, eyes still lidded. “Mm.”

“Tae! Are you out of petspace now?”

“Think so.” With a dramatically loud cry, Taehyung reaches an arm up into a deep, arching stretch, rubbing at his eyes once he’s done. “Mm, yeah, definitely. My foot has kinda gone dead too.”

As Taehyung sits up to rub at his foot, pressing his thumbs into the muscle, Jimin’s shoulders sink with a deep pout. “Tae-tae,” he whines again, “you know I like playing with puppy.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung replies easily, though it doesn’t sound like he is in the slightest, “I guess I just wanted to destress more than anything. I didn’t sleep so well last night.”

Jimin’s face softens, his complaints dissolved at Taehyung’s words. Without a verbal reply, he just reaches out, hooks his finger on the neckline of Taehyung’s shirt, and pulls him in for a kiss, humming into it slightly.

The movements, the touches are so natural and intimate that Jungkook feels like he’s intruding. It only lasts a moment before they break apart to go shower, but it’s enough time to sear the sight behind Jungkook’s eyelids. Maybe he’d been allowed to join them in their scenes, even cuddle with them, but he wasn’t a part of that bond that tied Jimin and Taehyung so strongly together. The thought sinks in his stomach, and he decides to skip the shower, getting dressed instead for a long workout downstairs.

When you knock on his door, Yoongi is at his desk, a pair of black-framed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He glances up, an eyebrow lifting in mild surprise.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You muffle a smile at his domestic getup - a grey t-shirt hangs off, far too big for him but outlining his chest and strong shoulders nonetheless, and his long black sweatpants all but cover his bare feet, toes tapping the carpet unconsciously as he waits for your reply. “I’ve been informed that today is your day.”

“Ah, checking in to the Fuck Hotel, I see,” he quips casually, slipping his glasses of and shutting the lid of the laptop he was working on. “We do have one vacancy.”

“Is that so?” you say, unable to stop your grin as he stands up from his office chair and rolls his head back like an athlete warming up.

“Comes with a continental breakfast,” he assures, before ducking his head with a sheepish chuckle. “God, hyung is becoming a bad influence on my sense of humour.” With slightly pink cheeks, he stretches out a hand towards you, before jerking it back and freezing, fingers curled and tensed. “Wait. Shit.”

You frown, glancing down at yourself, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. “What is it?”

“Hm. I just remembered my prompt, is all.” He takes a step back with a thoughtful furrow of his brows, clenching his hands into fists and putting them behind himself. “Dammit, I was meant to think of a game plan but I got distracted sorting out- uh- client emails.”

“Was this a bad time?” you ask with a light laugh, even as you cast a guilty glance towards the laptop. A month in and he was still doing work?

“No! No, it’s fine, it’s just…” Wincing, Yoongi scratches at the back of his neck and takes another step back, gesturing down at himself, and at the messy work desk. “I’m not in sexy mode yet. I look like a stay-at-home dad trying to work out how to order groceries online while my toddler is finally having her 2pm nap.”

You pause before an incredulous laugh bubbles out of your throat. “Okay, first of all, I think stay-at-home dads are very sexy, and I happen to think that you are very sexy. Secondly, ‘her?’ Why was that whole analogy so specific?”

Yoongi huffs defensively, petulantly throwing himself down to sit on the bed with his legs splayed wide. “I used to have a life plan, okay? But that’s not relevant now. The point is, I haven’t worked out how to do a good scene. I don’t want to it to be disappointing. Or, god forbid, boring.”

Your frown just deepens. “It doesn’t need to be an elaborate setup, Yoongi. Just fuck me. Touch me, at least. I can’t believe we’re still both wearing all our clothes when I’ve been very explicit about my intentions.”

You don’t miss the wince that flutters across his face. “That’s kinda the issue. Touching you, I mean.”

“You don’t wanna touch me?”

“I-” Yoongi all but stomps his foot, teeth clenching in frustration. “Of course I fucking want to, but I have to stick to my prompt, Y/n.”

Your mouth drops open. “So your prompt is that we can’t even touch each other? Doesn’t exactly sound very appealing for a porn show.”

He clicks his tongue. “You can still touch me,” he corrects with a dry gaze.

Unconvinced, you narrow your eyes. “Isn’t that convenient?” you question rhetorically. “Gonna make me do all the work this week because you haven’t organised it in your planner yet, Doctor Min?”

He glares at your teasing tone. “Excuse me for trying to play the game properly.” You swallow as his eyes run down your body heavily, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “If I could touch you, trust me, I’d have you dripping by now.”

Your thighs tighten, but you force them not to move. The last thing you want him to know is that you’re just about dripping already. “Sounds to me like you’re just lazy.” He doesn’t react, watching you make up your mind. You suck in a breath to hype yourself. “If I walk away right now, you’ll get nothing. Not only will you lose your prompt, but you’ll be stuck with blue balls. But if you give in and fuck me already, then you’ll only lose the prompt.”

“Who says I’ll even have blue balls? I’m perfectly comfortable,” he fires back immediately, tipping his head to the side cockily.

“Oh, please,” you drawl, letting your eyes fall to the sizeable bulge beneath his sweatpants, “you aren’t that big soft. Don’t kid yourself. So do you wanna get off, or not?”

His gaze hardens to stone, jaw flexing. “I’m surprised you think I need you for that. Aside from the fact that there are six other people in this house, I brought a fleshlight from home for a reason.”

Now that is something you hadn’t expected him to say. You freeze from your spot in the doorway, feeling heat pulse between your legs. Your spark of resistance is quickly fading, overtaken by need, so you don’t hesitate in firing back while you can. “If you think your fleshlight is better than me, then that’s your loss. Enjoy the bunkbeds; I’m off to do what you’re too cowardly to.”

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he snips, one of his hands sneaking under his shirt to rub his lower abdomen, fingers slipping below the hem of his sweats. “Shut the door on your way out.”

Feeling like you’ve lost the argument (and a little too horny to care) you have your final say by slamming it, thumping your feet with every step down the hall to your room.

Once inside, it takes mere seconds to throw yourself onto your bed back-first and shove your hand down your pants. But then, before you even dip into your wetness, a thought strikes you.

Pulling your hand out and making your way to your desk, you use your other hand to clumsily type in your password, and open a browser. It doesn’t take long to navigate to the page with all the paid streams for your own show, and with a slight flush you select Yoongi’s bedroom, impatiently punching in your credit card details.

After an agonising wait, the payment is processed and you’re brought to a private livestreaming site, a single window open in front of you.

The angle itself is strange, making Yoongi’s room look larger than it was, but you’re surprised at just how high quality the video and sound is once you bring it to full screen and slip your headphones in your ears. Yoongi is hunched over his nightstand, and you can actually hear the wooden slide faintly in the background as he opens and closes a drawer, returning to his office chair with a seemingly-transparent fleshlight and a bottle of lube.

Something about watching him through a camera in the corner of his room feels so wrong, especially as he palms impatiently at the tent in his pants, uncapping the lube and pouring a generous amount into the opening of the toy. You’d never been much of a voyeur - or, at least, so you thought - but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, blinding slipping your hands down your pants but over your underwear, simply pressing down on your clit to ease some of the crying need.

Oddly, the lube pours down and begins to drip out the other side, creating a dark patch on his clothed thigh. The audio picks up Yoongi cursing, and there’s no further preamble before he’s using one hand to hook down his sweatpants and kick them off to pool on the floor. The motion causes his cock to jerk up onto his stomach, leaving a smear of precum on his grey shirt, visible only by a few pixels of darker grey.

He scoots a little down the seat of the chair and hitches a leg up over one of the arms, eyes slipping closed as the hand not holding the dripping fleshlight grips his own cock, thumb pressing at the head.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans lowly, the sound running through your headphones and straight down between your legs. His brows are furrowed like it’s almost paining him, but he hovers the opening of the fleshlight over his tip as if he’s trying to hold back.

Slowly, he lowers the toy down one inch at a time, until the lube is drooling over his cock. Finally, the transparent toy slips down over his cock and his hips jump off the chair, his knuckles white on the arm of the chair and the fleshlight as he growls and lifts it back off again.

The sight of him intentionally teasing himself is too erotic for you to stay unmoving, and you find yourself burning up, losing the headphones for a moment to shuffle out of your own clothes. You hurry as much as you can, grimacing at your sopping panties, but by the time you’re back in your chair with nothing but a bra and tuning back into the stream, Yoongi’s not even focused on his toy anymore.

It sits propped up on his thigh, with two of his fingers lazily, almost absentmindedly thrusting deeply inside of it to keep it steady as the rest of him swivels in his chair to open his laptop again.

You frown and squint at the tiny screen on the stream. Rows of fuzzy squares stack up, and while you can’t be certain the phallic shapes of some of the miniscule images inside them make you think he was on a sex toy website.

He quickly opens a new tab, however, and your heart begins to beat nervously as a familiar page comes up. One you’d been on just earlier.

With bated breath you wait, hands grasping at the meat of your thighs and clothed breast to hold off on touching between your legs just yet. Yoongi navigates the Bangasm page, going through the same payment process you did.

It isn’t until you’re met with a miniature version of your own room on his screen that you realise what’s happened. And it’s when Yoongi squints and leans in closer, before turning to face the camera directly with a bewildered look, that you know you’ve been caught.

Frozen, you watch the on-screen, Yoongi look back and forth twice, before slowly scooting his chair back on an angle to the table, so that the laptop is in eyeshot even as his body is facing the camera fully.

Your mouth is dry, but the fleshlight he picks up again is wet, so wet that his fingers glisten, almost slipping off the toy entirely. He holds it tightly, transferring it to his dominant hand and teasing the top over his tip, biting hard on his lip.

The squeeze you have on your thigh is almost painful as your core burns, but you’re too stunned still to move, watching him dance the opening of the fleshlight over his cock, never dipping it inside.

With a twitching grin and lusty eyes, he glances towards the laptop. Your whole body feels hot as you glance over your shoulder to the camera in your room, before looking back at the screen. He’s not moving, chest visibly heaving even as he stares patiently at the computer screen.

He’s… waiting for you.

With one strangled breath, you tilt your chair away from the desk, adjusting your own laptop in a similar setup to him. Eyes locked on the stream, terrified you’ll miss a single moment of him indulging himself, you let your fingers uncurl from your inner thigh and trail them down, wasting no time in automatically locating your clit, massaging around the small bud.

Pleasure flows through you like hot water, down to your toes. After holding out for so long, after being so aroused for so long, the simplest touch has your knees weak and your head lolled back against the headrest.

On screen, Yoongi’s grin widens, and he rewards you by lowering the fleshlight, the clear silicone making way for the tip of his cock. He doesn’t stop there like last time, though; instead, he slowly but surely plunges it all the way down until it’s flush with his pelvis. Your eyes fly open when the flushed head pops out the other side, and Yoongi clearly enjoys it too judging by the way he curses and grips it tight, practically panting.

Without really intending, your fingers dip down and slip inside, two already. You barely feel a stretch with how wet you are. Although the feeling of something inside you is nice, you know your fingers just aren’t enough, especially with the angle of you slumped back in your chair.

So, you chance one look back at the screen - Yoongi is using the tip of one finger to spread his precum around the glossed tip of his cock, but his eyes are firmly locked onto you - and walk on shaky legs to your closet, where an unassuming (and so far unused) black silk bag lies amongst your shoes.

The amount of time it takes for you to duck into the bathroom and quickly wash the silicone vibrator you have with soapy water feels like an eternity, and by the time you hurry back it isn’t the toy that’s vibrating.

Frowning, you hesitantly answer the call that’s coming through on your phone from a familiar contact.

Yoongi’s voice immediately fills the room as the pixelated version on the screen rests his phone on the side of his desk, not jerking but twisting the fleshlight in slow arcs around his cock. “Couldn’t get enough of me, hm?”

“Says the one calling me,” you offer back lightly, switching onto speaker mode so that you can settle back in your chair, “enjoying the view?”

“A little too uneventful for me yet, sweetheart,” he teases, and his breathy groan is timed with the Yoongi on the stream lifting the fleshlight up a little and plunging it down again. “How about you put that toy in your pretty little pussy for me. For us.”

You feel your core pulse at the reminder that it wasn’t just Yoongi on the stream. Any number of anonymous strangers could be tuned in right now, seeing you with your legs spread.

The only way to cope is to lean into it instead of shying away. You slide the black silicone toy through your folds to slick it up, sighing with every light pass over your clit. Once it’s as wet as you are, you press the slightly bulbous tip down until it slips inside you, immediately shivering at the feeling.

The toy is small enough that you don’t need any special prep, yet big enough that it was satisfying, and curved just right. It had been your old reliable long before coming on the show, and there’s something strangely familiar and comforting about feeling it fill you out as you push it in deeper.

“Fuck, there we go,” Yoongi praises, and you hear the wet smacking noise of him snapping his hips up into the toy. “I may not be able to touch you, but you’ll still call my name when you cum for me.”

Your toes curl, and you’re no longer able to focus on the stream, letting your eyes fall shut and your ears tune in to his voice alone as you work the toy in and out of you.

He doesn’t waste any time in joining you, and the resulting sounds that fill your room are obscene, him making no effort to muffle the gravelled curses and moans, nor the wet thwack of silicone that gives away his movements.

The noise is somehow even more thrilling than the sight, and the feeling of his eyes on you encourages you to speed your hand up, even reaching down to desperately rub at your clit with the flat of your fingers, shivering at the wave of pleasure that wracks through your body.

It’s not long before you hear Yoongi’s voice turn guttural and the pace of the flesh light pick up frantically.

You wrench your eyes open and gaze blearily at the computer screen just in time to watch the stream of white that spills up through the back end of the fleshlight and over Yoongi’s knuckles. As hot as the image is, you whine at being made to watch this through the pixels instead of in real life, and the thought of being right fucking across from him as he fell apart is enough to make you seize up in your chair, orgasm draining you thoroughly, with not enough force to squirt but dripping on the seat nonetheless.

You take the toy out once pleasure turns to the sharp tweak of oversensitivity and pant, fighting to catch your breath as your feet feel positively numb.

Coming down from your high, you almost forget the running phone call until you hear his voice come through the speaker again. “Have a shower and then come back down to my room. You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

The beeping tone leaves you alone in your room, and you loll your head back over the edge of the chair with an exhausted moan, not without a grin playing on your lips. You wouldn’t protest to that.

#the gentlemen #tgm #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #vminkook smut #vmin smut #jikook smut #taekook smut #i don't even know how to tag anymore fksdfjsk

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neeksnorton · 3 years

Text

Prison Quickie // Abner Krill x Fem!Reader

hi there!! here's my newest story. I'm gonna format these a little differently, with a short description before the full story, and i'm gonna make the look a little more clean overall. i hope you guys enjoy! this was heavily requested.

~ You and Abner had been having a little romance going on at Belle Reve, until Amanda Waller assigns you two to Task Force X. You both need to feel each other one last time before you are sent on the mission to Corto Maltese. ~

NSFW TAGS : angst, crying, mutual masturbation, prison, slight exhibitionism, fear of getting caught, dirty talk, smutty

WORD COUNT : 2.3K

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You rub your eyes and stretch your arms out. You let out a sigh and sit up. Another day in this stupid prison.

You slide out of bed and put on your shoes, then slide on your orange jumpsuit. The thought of having to eat the slop that the prison serves makes you sick. You make the conscious decision to try and skip breakfast if you don’t get caught.

“Mhhh- shit.” This fucking sucks. You push on your cell door, and to your surprise, it's unlocked . Breakfast must’ve already started, and the guards open all the cells around that time. Awesome.

Stumbling into the cafeteria, you squint your eyes looking for Ab. Where the fuck is he? You think to yourself.

He was probably still in his cell, as he had a habit of sleeping in late. Alright, then. You turn swiftly on your heel and begin to walk to Abner’s room in the cell block opposite to yours. You bump straight into Ms. Waller and her slew of guards.

Fuck. You know what she wants from you and you know damn well what your answer is.

“Are you serious??” You mutter. She gives you an expression you’ve seen so many times. Her eyes aren’t looking at you, but nearly THROUGH you, as if you aren’t even there. You know that you are NOTHING to her.

“No.” You sneer right in her face. “I’m not joining your dumbass squad thing.”

“We’ll see.”

“No, actually. You won’t. I don't give a flying shit about you or whatever the fuck you want from me. I'm already in fuckin' prison. My answer won’t change.”

She lets a long pause linger. The silence rings in your ears.

“I know who you're looking for. You won’t see him again unless you agree.”

There’s no way. There’s no fucking way.

“No.” Your voice hitches in your throat.

“We got Abner Krill on the squad. You’re our last ask.”

Your jaw muscles clench. Shit. Tears well in your eyes but you shake them away. How did she convince him? She probably baited him with you. You and Abner had gotten… comfortable during your time at Belle Reve. Waller knew you loved him. She knew about your detailed affair with him. And she was determined to get rid of you two once and for all.

“You bitch! You dumb fucking bitch! He’s gonna die out there! You’re fucking crazy, you cunt! You’ve sentenced him to death and you know it!!!” You lunge at her while screaming obscenities. There was white hot rage in your chest. She’s purposefully taken the ONE thing you care about most. Just to get you on her dumb task force and probably die anyway.

Strong hands grab your arms and shoulders. The guards have your arms pinned behind you, forcing you to stop moving. You struggle, but you know there’s no use.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the briefing. Unless you want Krill to go alone.”

You roll your eyes and swallow hard.

“Fine,” You wiggle in the guards arms. “But if we come back and he’s not alive, mark my words- I will blow your fucking head off and feed it to that fucking shark...person...thing.”

“Sure.” She retorts. “See you at 8am sharp.”

The guards let you go and you practically shove them off of you. The only mission in your head right now is to find Abner. You have to see him. Before you two get sentenced to your drawn-out deaths tomorrow.

You sprint down the hall, the guards letting you go. They figured that they should let you see him one last time. No funny business though. Last time you went to his cell, they put you in confinement for sucking his dick. You almost laugh to yourself while recalling that memory.

You nearly trip while rounding a corner, and you finally make it to his cell, chest heaving from running so fast.

“Prisoner Abner Krill / Polka Dot Man. True Power Capacity: Unknown.”

Ew. It’s written like he’s not even a person. It pisses you off every time you see it.

You see him through his cell window. He’s laying on his side while clutching a pillow. Ah, man. He’s probably just trying to cope. You sigh heavily. Seeing him like this fucking sucks. He’s normally in a dismal mood, but this is different. He’s receiving a death sentence.

You give the door a couple gentle knocks.

“Knock knock, it’s me.”

“...Come in.”

You slowly take a seat on the side of the bed.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

He rolls over to look at you, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y/N, I don’t wanna do it. I d-don’t wanna do it.” His lip quivers as he’s choking back tears. You lay down facing him and pull him into a hug.

“I know, honey. I know. Shh…” You make your best attempt to console him as he cries.

You feel his tears leaving a little spot on your shoulder. Fuck. There was nothing you could do other than hold him. You rub small circles on his upper back, and caress the nape of his neck with your fingers, twirling little bits of his hair. “Shhh… Shhh…”

He looks up at you, his eyes puffy and red.

“I love you. I love you so much. When Waller told me you were going to be on the Task Force I couldn’t let you go alone. I can’t let you go alone.”

“Wait, she told you already? When? I just came back from seeing her.”

“What? She told me last night you agreed to go.” He tilts his head in confusion.

Are you fucking serious? She baited Abner with you. He wouldn’t have fucking joined if she hadn’t done that.

“No, I just saw her. She just told me that she got you to get on the Squad.”

“Oh god…” He realizes that if he had said no, you probably both wouldn’t have gone. “Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry...” He starts crying again, shaking as he does so.

You were gonna find a way to kill Waller. You were gonna burn the fucking prison down with her in it. You push the rage away for a moment and sigh. You need to focus on Abner, he needs you.

“Stop, stop, It’s not your fault, you didn’t know…” You console him more, heart breaking for him. You didn’t want him to feel this way.

He starts to calm down a bit, and you cradle his tear stained face. “I nearly fucking killed her when she said you were going to be on the Squad, if that makes you feel any better.” You chuckle.

“R-really?”

“Of course, you fucking dummy.” You smile and kiss him, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

“Okay, let’s change the subject. No power dampener today?”

He giggles. “No, they took it off, but that means my virus is gonna progress like normal. So instead of expelling the dots once a week, it’s twice a day, like when I was a kid.”

“Ohhh. But at least you don’t have to wear that fucking thing on your neck anymore.”

“True.” He chuckles. You’re trying your absolute best to get his mind off of the situation. A couple more tears form, glistening under the flickering light of his cell.

“You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.” You kiss him again, a little more passionately this time.

His lips melt into yours. He lets you hold him, finding the closeness comforting. You use your thumbs to swipe away the tears falling down his cheeks. You tilt his chin up to gain access to his neck, lapping at the skin. You can still slightly taste some of his tears. He lets out a small whimper.

His hand moves from his side to your waist, snaking his hand up your shirt. You inhale sharply, his cold hands a striking contrast to your warm skin.

“Ahhh- Ab, are you sure? We could get caught again and-"

He places small kisses on your cheeks while whispering. “Please- I want to, p-please…I just need a distraction from what’s h-happening and I need to be close with you before we g-go tomorrow…”

You sigh. Honestly, it’s not the worst thing if you get caught. They can’t really do anything now that you’ve been assigned to Task Force X.

“Okay. Let’s just keep quiet.”

You slide your hand under the front of his shirt, lifting it up just a tad to see his happy trail. You desperately want to lift it more, just to see more of his skin. But you can’t. The guards know what’s up with you and Abner. They will separate you two if necessary.

The feeling of possibly being caught was thrilling. It made your heart pound so loud you could hear it in your ears. He kisses you feverishly.

“Oh Ab…” You moan into his mouth. Your pussy was aching. He had barely started touching you, and you wanted another fix of him so bad. It had been weeks. He pulls you in closer, digging his fingers into your back, craving to feel more of your soft flesh.

You wriggle your hands around his hips and pull him closer as well, his bulge against your center.

“Oh my god…” Abner winced. He was painfully hard. He wanted to feel every inch of you, and feel your insides warmly wrapped around his length. But he knows that’s not possible right now. You traced your finger across his girth.

“Ab… I need to feel you, nghh- I’m gonna go fucking crazy if I don’t, ahh…”

“I know, I know. Unzip your pants, quickly.”

As you swiftly unzip your pants, his hand grips your chest, lightly pinching your nipple through the t-shirt. Your back can’t help but arch, and a squeaky moan escapes your lips.

His hand moves down, squeezing your flesh through your orange canvas shirt. He starts sucking and lapping your neck, loving the taste of you and wishing to feel every inch of your soft skin. He uses his free hand to unzip his pants as well. You feel your arousal leaking through your panties, and his touch feels electrifying on your skin. Every point of contact between him and you makes your clit ache for friction. Your hands tangle in his midnight black hair.

His hand cups your heat, and he slowly runs his fingers through your folds. You squirm for more, but you don't think he's getting the hint.

“Quit teasing me p-please- I need you.”

“Oh, s-sorry, I didn’t realize-”

‘It’s okay, shh.”

His slender fingers meet your clit, and he gasps at how wet you already are for him. Abner circles his finger pad expertly around your clit, and the relief of sexual tension almost makes you cum.

“Wait wait wait…” You say, he pauses and looks at you, with his big beautiful brown eyes. You free his cock from his pants, and quickly lick your palm. He’s incredibly hard, not to mention big as well. He breathily moans as you begin to stroke his cock. He returns to playing with your clit. Your arms are crossed over each other, both mutually getting each other off.

He’s getting sweaty now, his hair sticking to his forehead. Your chests are both heaving from the feeling of each other’s touch. His eyes dart around the room, checking on the window to make sure there are no guards out front.

You decide to tease him a little, knowing that dirty talk is something that he always wants from you.

“Yeah baby, you like that? I bet you wish you could be inside me right now…” He groans, your words bringing him closer and closer to his peak.

“Does that feel good baby? I’m sure it does…”

“Fuck, please don’t stop, honey-” His bottom lip quivers. “I’m gonna cum, I- I’m gonna- shit…” He releases his spend onto you, hips bucking erratically into your hand. He clearly hadn’t gotten off in a while, it must've been since the last time you two did this, nearly 3 weeks ago.

He doesn’t stop playing with your clit, rubbing small and fast circles with a perfect amount of pressure.

“Yes, Abbie keep going- mmh-”

Your eyes dart up and see a guard walking down the hall. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Ah!! Abbie quick, theres a g-guard, ahh-”

“Oh! Shit okay okay okay…” He speeds up and your orgasm rocks you to your core. Your muscles involuntarily flex, sadly clenching around nothing. You exhale and nuzzle into Abner’s shoulder as you come down. You can feel his heart beating fast.

You quickly zip up your pants, as does he. You run over to the sink and rinse off your hand, cleaning Abner’s cum. You look behind you out the window. There’s three guards, and they're getting closer.

You dive back into the bed and lay on top of him. He holds you tightly, like if he let you go, you’d never come back.

He kisses your forehead. You know the guard is coming to separate you.

“Abner, the guard-”

“Shh. Just enjoy this moment before he comes in, it’s okay-”

The door slams open, making you jump. He points at you aggressively. “YOU. OUT, NOW!!”

Another guard from behind him storms and yanks you off of him, causing you to slam your head face-first onto the tile.

“NO!!” Abner nearly screams, reaching for you. He could almost feel the pain you were in, causing tears to start falling.

“Ahh- fuck.” Your nose was definitely broken, the dark blood dripping onto the piercingly white tile.

“Y/N, oh my god.. STOP!!” Abner yells, the pain in his voices aches in your chest. There are two guards this time, they pick you up by your arms with ease. You don’t really have the strength to fight back. Hitting your head made you feel pretty woozy.

A part of you was almost mad at him. He knew the consequences of you going in there and touching him. But it wasn’t entirely his fault. You agreed to go in, and you agreed to jerk him off. This definitely meant that you were gonna spend the rest of the night in solitary confinement.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I love you…” His voice trails off as you are dragged to your new cell. You see Abner bury his face in his hands. Ah, man.

#abner krill fanfic #abner krill smut #abner krill x reader #abner krill #polkadot man #polka dot man #dc fanfiction #david dastmalchian #dastmalchian #the suicide squad #the suicide squad fanfiction #tss #tss 2021

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current-interest-writings · 3 years

Note

Hello! Ive veen reading your writings and i love your work! May i please request a trans!reader dating Jason Todd but only realizing theyre trans (ftm) somewhere during the relationship and then breaking up with him bc theyre scared Jason wont like them anymore. Eventually when reader doesnt want to give an explanation they crack and tell him. Jason being Jason just comforts reader and tells them its okay he loves them anyways. Pls i am so sorry if this is too long and specific i was definitely in an angst with comfort mood while typing this. Of course it is completely your choice to write this! Thank you for reading and I hope you have an amazing and a wonderful day! :)

Jason Todd X Trans!Reader

!Warnings!- if you aren't comfortable reading fics about a trans read, then keep scrolling! other than that maybe some angst and comfort.

I hope I did this request some justice, and I hope readers enjoy it.

Dating Jason has been one of the best times in your life, it was almost the perfect relationship for you guys.

Dates were fun and well thought out

He had trust in you, which for him is rare

You guys had met through his older brother Dick, you were being targeted by someone for god knows what. But you needed protection, and Jason has many places to lay low. and from there the relationship formed.

after a few years of dating, you noticed that you weren't being honest with yourself. The outside appearance did not match the inside, to be honest, it scared you a little bit. And in this panic, you had decided it would be better to leave Jason, and maybe navigate what you were feeling alone.

Breaking up with Jason was hard,

"Jason, I know this is coming from out of left field but I think it's best that we break up."

"Why? was it something I did? is this because I'm the red hood?"

"No Jason, it really has nothing to do with you, this is because of me. you've done nothing wrong"

"Can I know what you think you've done? I need a clear answer"

"I don't have a clear answer, I don't really understand what's going on with me yet either."

"so no explanation?"

"I'm sorry"

it took a lot for you to walk out of the door, and drive yourself back home, you stared in the mirror a lot, and then looked away. it wasn't easy, the break up with one of the sweetest men you've ever known, and to see that the outside is not what you feel it should be.

You used an ace bandage to wrap over your sports bra, as a makeshift chest binder, You had know you were trans right now, but that didn't make your feelings any better, only slightly better.

But a week after the breakup Jason had enough, he needed to know what is going on. He drove to your place to see you, he knocked on the door instead of using the key he still had, and when you came to the door Jason had a spike of fear in him, you looked like you've been kinda upset. But you let him in.

"Hey"

"Hi Jay, What are you doing here?"

"I, I just need an answer as to what is exactly happened. we were happy or so I thought and then suddenly you end it. I just need to know why''

"Jason, I'm"

"I want an answer and not just some runaround."

''Jay I'm transgender"

he looked at you and then let out a laugh

"that's why you broke up with me?"

"I was scared Jay, That's why I did what I did. I was scared about what you would think about me, and I was just scared about what it means for my life. it's not a small change. I thought it was better to go about this on my own."

Jason just pulled you into his arms and cradled you pressing your head to his chest

"I love you, but sometimes you're stupid. I love you, and you being trans isn't going to stop me from loving you. You won't be going through this alone, I love you. And I'm not going to leave you alone, besides who else is going to make inappropriate jokes."

you let out a small chuckle, he of course will make terrible jokes at the worst timing.

"I know Jay, and I'm sorry for just breaking up with you."

"No it's okay, you were scared and I don't blame you. I wish you would've just talked to me first but I totally get it. I can't judge you, I came back from the dead and decided I wanted Bruce dead instead of being rational. Fear can make us do strange things"

and he did get it, he was by your side for everything

If you want to cut your hair? he's right there cheering you on

buying new clothes? he's there to provide his opinion and cheer you on

thinking about making surgical changes or not? he's right by your side, he's supportive no matter what you choose.

he's right by your side for all of your changes.

if/when you're ready to change your name? he's there making jokes about you choosing the name Jason.

"common it's an awesome name, and have you met me!"

"I'm not picking Jason as a name, that would be kinda awkward in bed"

"Alright, fair point that would be weird"

his family is ready to fight anyone who wants to purposely misgender you or deadname you.

He's by your side no matter what.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #jasontodd #Trans!Reader #FTM!Reader #batfam x reader #dc x reader #Current interest writings #currentintrestwritings

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Memories

Intro

Intro, Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Satan

*it’s a somewhat rare day in the House of Lamentation because most of the brothers are peacefully together in the same room for once. They aren’t always known to hang out in the Common Room but today Satan is getting his nails redone by Asmo while Mammon, Beel, and Levi all face off against each other in a mobile game they’ve found recently. Belphie is there too, but mostly in spirit as he naps on the couch. For once, it seems that everyone is either lounging on the couches or laying on the floor doing their own thing with nary a fight in sight*

*the only person missing from their little gathering is Lucifer… something that gets remedied all too soon as the eldest walks by the entrance with the MC quietly by his side. Satan is the first to notice them pass by and it only takes a glimpse for him to see something unusual about the pair...*

*the MC is carrying a suitcase*

Satan: MC? Are you going on a trip?

*Satan’s voice breaks the previously peaceful silence and gets everyone else’s attention, quickly setting their sights on the doorway as well. Having been noticed, Lucifer and MC are forced to stop so they all can see… Automatically, there’s something off about the MC. They’re glancing down at the floor, unable to meet their eyes, while Lucifer scans the others with the same expression he gives during important meetings… The look he only uses when things are delicate and he’s warning them to be on good behavior*

*Mammon is the first to get back to his feet, already sensing that something is wrong here*

Mammon: Oi? What’s goin’ on? What’s with the bags??

Levi: *sits up next his brother, panicking slightly* You didn’t say we were going anywhere! I’m waiting on a package!!

Beel: Are we leaving…? I haven’t packed any snacks yet…

*Lucifer waves his brothers down, hardening his glare for a moment to get the point across*

Lucifer: Settle down. *he doesn’t keep his eyes on them for long because he’s soon looking down at the MC with a much softer expression, resting a hand on their back tenderly*

Lucifer: Would you like to tell them, or should I…?

MC: No, no… It’s fine. I can do it…

*their human’s somber tone is like an alarm bell to every demon in the room and by now they’re all waiting at attention - even Belphie seems more alert than ever. Something has made their human is sad… But why? What’s changed? Had they upset them? Has someone hurt them?? The MC can already feel the air getting tense as their dear pact-mates wait for them to name their target...*

MC: It’s nothing to worry about, guys. I… just need to go to the human world for a few days… A friend of mine has died recently and I want… No, I am going to the funeral… *and like that the tension in the room evaporates immediately as all their expressions soften…*

Asmo: Oh, MC… That’s awful! *he’s on his feet in an instant to be at their side and offering a hug which the MC gladly accepts. He plants a soft kiss on their temple while holding them tight*

Asmo: I can’t imagine what you’re feeling, sweetheart, but we’re here for you…

*the MC feels a large hand rest on their shoulder as Beel comes up beside Asmo, nodding*

Beel: Yeah… We’re here.

*taking a cue from their brothers, the rest of the boys all get to their feet as necessary and come to the MC’s side - either reaching out to try and hold them or simply hovering close by - but Lucifer stops them just short of making contact*

Lucifer: We shouldn’t crowd them…

MC: It’s alright, Lucifer… *they give Asmo a short squeeze to signal they’re letting go before taking a step back from them all* I won’t be gone for long, everyone… I just need to be with my family and friends for a little while…

Asmo: *steps back, but keeps ahold of their hands* Wait, do you have something to wear? Humans wear black at funerals, don’t they? Or is it white? I can find something for you before you go!

Satan: *glances at their suitcase, genuinely concerned* Is that all you’re bringing...? Did you remember to pack your toothbrush? Socks?

Beel: *already digging in his pockets for a spare bag of treats* Do you need snacks for the trip?

Belphie: They’re probably just going by portal, Beel…

Beel: *frowns* But it’s a long walk…

*their combined concern is enough to make the MC smile just a bit, relaxing their demons some, but they still only shake their head*

MC: Thank you, guys, but I have everything I need at home… Lord Diavolo is letting Barbs take me home, Beel, so don’t worry. I won’t starve. I just need to stop by the Castle first...

Mammon: Ah, so that’s where we’re goin’? Alright! *he breaks away from his brothers and starts walking down the hall, looking back at the MC with full expectation that they’ll follow* Come on. MC! Let’s get movin’.

*the MC stands frozen for a moment or two in the hallway before slowly taking yet another step away from the brothers, to their collective confusion*

MC: Thank you, guys… Really… I love you all… But I think I need just a little time to clear my head before I… Before I, uh… *they glance to Lucifer, feeling guilty and trying not to wince, but the eldest seems to pick up on what they’re trying to say*

Lucifer: Ah… of course… *he turns to his brothers, Mammon in particular, before taking a step aside to start clearing the hall* Everyone, since we’re all staying here, let’s give the MC some space… *again, he throws another glance at Mammon, knowing how clingy his brother can be, and sure enough...*

Mammon: Eh? Whatcha talkin’ about...?

*the secondborn, bless his heart, doesn’t seem to be following what the MC is trying to say… and why would he? He and the MC have been thick as thieves since they made their pact in the first place... Thankfully, Satan and Levi are much faster on the uptake and they both swiftly yank him out of the way*

Levi: It means that they want to walk there alone, you idiot…! *he huffs at his elder brother, but it's not hard to see that he looks a little disappointed himself... The MC shoots them all a sympathetic look before their eyes again cast down to the floor*

MC: I’m sorry, everyone… I know you’re worried, but I just need a little time to think and prepare myself before going back home again…

Satan: You have nothing to feel sorry for, MC… We understand. *he keeps ahold of Mammon’s wrist as he smiles to his brother* Don’t we, Mammon? *his grip tightens like a vice, even though his smile never wavers...*

Mammon: Ow!! Okay, okay, I get it!! *he pulls his arm out of Satan’s grasp and glares at him before looking back at the MC. He tries his best to smile at them like he isn’t bothered by the situation… but everyone knows better*

Mammon: I get ya, MC… Take your time, we'll be here for ya when ya get back!

*the MC watches their loyal first demon letting them go on their own for once and sends him a teary-eyed smile*

MC: Thank you, Mammon… Everyone…

*they finally turn away from their demons and start down the hall to the doorway. If any of the brothers want to call out or stop them, they hold it in until they hear the heavy door close with a 'thunk'*

*it a minute or two before one of the brothers finally works up the nerve to break silence they're all sharing*

Asmo: Poor MC… *his hands cradle his cheeks in a bid for self-comfort...*

Lucifer: Yes… human lives are quite fragile…

Levi: Should we do something for them when they get back…?

Mammon: *huffs* No duh! Satan, what do humans usually do after funerals?

*the fourthborn sighs at his brother's vague question, but crosses his arms as he starts to think*

Satan: Well… There's usually mourning… Humans sometimes take time off of work or school so that they can adjust to their grief...

Lucifer: *nods* I'll be sure to let Diavolo know, then.

Satan: Aside from that it depends on the household… Some come together and others don’t talk very much. I've heard that some humans may even hold a celebration of sorts for the departed.

Beel: *starts drooling* Then we could make them a cake…!

Belphie: *sighs* I don't think that's a good idea, Beel… What if they don’t do that?

Beel: Oh… *gets a little disappointed*

Mammon: Well, what are we supposed to do? Pretend they're fine?? Ain’t there somethin’ ya can think of, Satan?

*Mammon turns to the blonde of the group, but instead of looking mildly irritated at his insistence the fourthborn is glaring at the ground - seemingly lost in thought*

Mammon: …. Um, yo? Satan? *Mammon gives him a minute to react but to his frustration, Satan doesn't look up...*

Mammon: Hey, Hell to Satan!! Hello?? *Mammon shakes his brother's shoulder, snapping him back to reality long enough to get his his hand slapped away*

Satan: Mammon, stop that!

Mammon: You're the one who went quiet!

*the rest of the brothers all watch Satan quizzically, it’s unlike him to space out mid-conversation…*

Asmo: Is something wrong, Satan?

*hearing the question, Satan’s anger quickly melts back into contemplation as he avoids his brothers' stares*

Satan: Well…

Mammon: Spit it out, will ya??

*Satan's fist comes down hard on his brother's head and makes a pretty good bump in its place*

Satan: Be quiet, moron, I'm thinking!!

*while Mammon angrily rubs his head, Satan looks away from them again - well aware of the Pandora's Box he's about to open…*

Satan: I was thinking about MC… and how they're human…

Belphie: *raises an eyebrow* Yeah? So?

Levi: *smiles slyly, snark already in his eyes before it hits his tongue* Did you just figure that out...?

*Satan shoots them a sideways glare before facing away towards the room’s fireplace*

Satan: No. Obviously not.

Satan: ...What I meant to say is, the MC is going to die...

*and like that, all the air in the room seemingly vanishes… Nothing Satan has said is incorrect, but the brothers have always had something of an understanding about this… The MC was mortal, their life would end, but it wasn't something to just… you know...*

*Mammon is the first on the defensive*

Mammon: Hey, hey, hey why ya gotta bring that up now, Satan?? The MC's fine!

Satan: I know that! *his tone snaps a bit as he only glances at his brothers' direction* But let's think about it for a second… What about us?

Asmo: *shifts uncomfortably and hugs his arms to his chest* I don't think I like where this is going…

*when Asmo glances as Lucifer, he sees his eyes are locked on Satan in a steely glare... Though it's pretty obvious he doesn't like this subject either, he seems more hesitant to put a stop to it…*

Lucifer: Yes… We will all die too… But what are you getting at, Satan?

*the fourthborn seems to pause, then breaks away from his brothers fully so he can walk closer to the fire - letting the heat brush against his skin*

Satan: If I recall, Diavolo has told us in the past that we won't die like humans, or even angels...

*he looks across the fireplace mantle for a picture frame, then takes it in both hands. The picture inside is not very interesting, just one of House back in its better years... He starts to slide the image out as he continues*

Satan: As Avatars of our sins, we will exist as long as temptation remains present. We won't die exactly, but we'll be reborn instead…

Lucifer: *raises an eyebrow, still trying to follow his train of thought but getting impatient* Where are you going with this, Satan…?

Mammon: *huffs, crossing his arms* Yeah! Get to the point already...

Belphie: *yawns*... Or I’m just going to take a nap...

*if their impatience is bothering him, Satan - for once - doesn't show it as he presents them with the grainy picture*

Satan: When we're reborn, will we forget the MC?

*the room appears to freeze for a moment as everyone holds a collective breath… Some are still trying to follow Satan's logic, others pick up on what he means all too quickly…*

Mammon: W-... What are you talkin' about…? 'Course we won't! *the secondborn chews at his lip while Levi nervously thumbs his headphones...*

Levi: Yeah… What Mammon said. Even if we're reborn, it's still us right? *Levi glances around to the others for confirmation, something an anxious Asmo is quick to give*

Asmo: Y-yeah! If it's us, then we have to remember them somewhere…!

Satan: *shakes his head* We can't be certain… In the human world, it's said reincarnated individuals rarely remember their former lives...

Belphie: *glares at the blonde sharply, the topic of their death clearly agitating him more than the most* Well this isn't the human world, Satan!

Satan: *meets his anger in kind, knowing full well that he doesn’t relish the subject either* And do you have anything else to go off of? It's not like any of us have died yet!

*with that an uneasy silence settles over the brothers as the gravity of the situation takes hold... A possible future with no memories of MC… At some level, they had all approached the idea that they would pass on but to have no memories at all just…*

Asmo: So we'll just… forget them…? *even though it seems only a distant possibility, tears are already threatening to spill from his eyes...*

Mammon: You're wrong…

Beel: But I don't want to… *Beel looks solemnly down at Belphie, then to Lucifer, before he quietly realizes that there isn't anything either of them can do...*

Mammon: You're wrong.

Levi: M… M-MC…. *his bottom lip quivers as he fights to keep himself together somehow… What will happen to his Henry…?*

Mammon: You got it all WRONG!!

*in a flash of light and heat, Mammon's demon form whips out in its full glory but his body is trembling... Both his fists are at his sides, white-knuckled from frustration, and his head hangs low so his brothers can't see his eyes...*

Mammon: I won't forget MC… We won't forget MC…!

*everyone watches him cautiously, but Satan is the first to speak...*

Satan: Mammo-

*Mammon cuts him off by unfurling his wings, knocking Levi and Belphie back in the process*

Mammon: Shut UP! I don't want to hear it!! We'll remember them and that's final, ya got that?!

*though everybody knows that Mammon doesn't have any power over the situation, much less the authority to give them orders, his point has been made. This conversation is over...*

*with that, Mammon retracts his wings and stalks out of the room quickly - likely to run to his bedroom and vent his aggression. Among the remaining brothers, there doesn’t look to be much willingness to keep talking…*

Lucifer: Well… Thank you, Satan, for bringing that to our attention… *his acknowledgement expresses no gratitude, but no sarcasm either… it seems even Lucifer has been dulled by this topic…*

Lucifer: I think we can all agree to never bring this up again… *there's a quiet nod among the brothers, but none are willing to meet his eyes...*

Lucifer: Then so be it...

*another silence hangs in the air before Lucifer is the first to move*

Lucifer: It's been a long day… Everyone, get some rest.

*following his lead, the rest of the brothers begin to file out to their bedrooms one-by-one, until only Satan remains. He sighs, dropping the picture in his hand into the fire to watch it blacken and burn to ash…*

*though he loathes to admit it, Mammon's words have struck a chord with him… He won't forget the MC... And little did he know, that same vow has done the same for the rest of his brothers as well...*

*They won't forget the MC… not if they have anything to say about it*

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me memories #obey me fic #long post #angst

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Fully Completely 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment, blood, cutting, general hatred

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: Today, we have more Loki then tomorrow more Zemo and some Sam on Saturday. I might add in some Andy Barber after that but keep plucking away at this and Candy Coated. Anyway, I’ll see you in the comments and the asks.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 5: Hang me long out in the sun

💀💀💀

You sat against the wall, flinching every time you leaned too heavily on the radiator and burned your arm. You were certain Loki cranked the heat before he left as it was stolid and stifling in the large room. Sweat dripped down your body and mingled with the drying blood along your chest. You were uncomfortable but you didn’t want to get comfortable in this place.

You pulled on your wrist until your hand throbbed and the cuffs showed no sign of wear and the radiator didn’t budge. You stretched across the floor until you could reach the edge of the bookshelf and kicked until some books fell, hoping for some hidden pin or tool to pick the lock. There were only musty old books and dust.

You stood, tried to at least, bent over as you stretched your legs. You did awkward squats and extended your arms to your toes, one at least. You rolled your head on your neck so it cracked noisily and settled back against the wall. You were tired, exhausted, but too worked up to sleep.

It hit you all at once as the stench of smoke clung to your shirt and skin. Your shop was gone, your home, everything you worked for. It was another sick joke played on you by the town of Birch.

Bucky was just another bully. He was like that boy in ninth grade who asked you to meet him at the park for a ‘date’ only to stand you up. You remembered the Monday after when he planted a stink bomb in your locker. The men around there were all the same. Everywhere if you were to judge by Loki.

You closed your eyes and thought of your dad. You thought he would’ve been proud to see everything you’d done; a shop of your own, a life where you didn’t have to worry. He said to you, through his dying lungs, that he knew you would be alright, that you could take care of yourself and Jerome. What about your brother then? Shouldn’t he take care of you too?

For the first time in a very long time, you wanted to cry. You kept your eyes shut to keep the tears locked in and slowly your mind eased. You sunk down as the warmth of the radiator embraced you, unbothered by the unyielding heat against your arm. You could hear yourself snore as you succumbed to your fatigue.

You were woken by the clatter of the door below. The old Victorian house echoed every noise and shuddered at every gale without. You lifted your head with a snort and sidled away from the radiator. Your arm was tender from the constant blaze of the radiator and you winced as you touched it. Fuck, it was burned.

You braced yourself as you listened to the slow ascent. You heard him behind the door and watched the knob turn. You sprawled out and slid a book closer with your foot. You got up and grabbed it quickly and stood in a hunch. You flung it at Loki as he entered but he quickly blocked the hardcover tome with the door.

He carefully peeked around the wood and stepped back in with a sigh. He shook his head as he crossed his arms and nodded as Korg appeared behind him. The bigger man placed the collection of shopping bags on the table and left with a dismissive sniff from his boss. The door closed and you were left to simmer alone with Loki.

“Such a warm welcome,” he strode to the table and tapped his fingertips on the wood, “and after I went to all the trouble of replacing your wardrobe. A pity all those wonderful pieces you had were lost.”

“I don’t want any of it,” you sneered, “leave me here, I don’t care.”

“Darling, while I find your resilience admirable it is also rather irksome,” he said, “and you will find that in the end, it will only make all this so much more difficult. You needn’t suffer anymore.”

“‘You needn’t suffer anymore,’” you mimicked him, “just listening to you talk is suffering.”

He turned his face down and clenched his jaw. He turned and reached into a bag. He pulled out a swath of black fabric that unfolded to an elegant dress with subtle black gems along the neckline like stars. You pushed your head back and stared at the ceiling.

“I can understand, a woman like you, men aren’t lining up to give you nice things,” he said, “I wouldn’t exactly call this giving, more… trading.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled as you closed your eyes again, “you know, you woke me up so why don’t you keep it down?”

“I did have to guess at the sizes,” he ignored you brusquely, “but I’ve always had a keen eye.”

“You can shove your dresses and whatever else you wasted your money on up your--”

“Darling,” he interrupted, “I will not warn you again. That lip does provoke me.”

You jutted your jaw out and exhaled. You bent your legs and crossed your arms over your knees. You were too tired to argue with him. Hell, it only seemed to make you feel more helpless as you could not act on your anger. You hated that feeling. It remind you of that stupid teenage girl again; so gullible and weak.

“You cannot remain as you are,” he continued, “and I will not have a slobbish hick on my arm--”

“Jesus Christ, is your dick so small you can’t find another woman?” you hissed.

He was silent. You opened your eyes and hit your head on the wall as you were startled by how quick he moved. He pressed his knee to your chest and pinned you to the wall as he reached into his pocket and plucked out the silver key. He bent and unhooked the cuff from your wrist.

He caught your hand as you clawed at him and coughed as he pushed his knee harder against the cut between your tits. He tore you away from the wall suddenly and thrust you up to your feet. He twisted your arm behind you as he spun you and kicked your feet across the floor. You struggled with him but each time he bent your arm further up your back.

He pushed you onto the bed and straddled you as he angled you along the mattress. You flailed with your legs as he kept you trapped beneath his weight and released your arm. You reached out as he shifted above you and quickly snatched up your hands. He wrapped his long fingers around your wrists and snugly wound his tie in their place before he let go.

He backed off of you so that you laid across your stomach, your hands bound above your head to the bedpost. You rolled over as he marched away and returned just as quickly. He unfolded the razor with the mother-of-pearl handle and you dug your heels into the bed as you tried to free yourself from the silken tie.

He grabbed your leg and held it down. You brought your other knee up and he blocked it with his shoulder, “if you continue on like this, I might catch the artery.”

He held your leg down and pressed the edge of the blade to your thigh. You froze as he sliced into your skin and you grunted through your teeth. He traced a line down your leg and mirrored it on the other. He retreated and looked you over as you glanced down between your legs, the red lines dripping onto the blanket.

“What the fuck?” you yanked on the tie, “you’re fucking insane.”

“You haven’t any idea,” he held up the razor and admired the crimson along the silver, “but if you insist on this little dance, I should be inclined to go deeper.” He closed the razor and winked, “darling, you are looking rather rough,” he remarked, “but scars will not deter me.”

He spun and strode again to the bathroom. He returned and wiped his hands on a white towel and tossed it over the back of the chair. He sat and continued to sort through the bags.

“You think I’m afraid of you, you prick?” you snarled, “you think you’re going to win? When I get free, I’m going to take that blade and cut your dick--”

He stood and his hand formed a fist. He was atop you in a moment but before he could bring his hand to your throat, you bit down on the webbing between his thumb and index finger. He exclaimed and retracted his hand for just a second before he smacked you across the face. Your head snapped to the side and you held in a groan.

This time his hand stretched over your neck and he leaned over you. His hot breath whispered along your cheek and you shivered in disgust.

“Oh, darling, this will be fun indeed,” he purred, “but I have no doubt that you will be prancing around in pretty little skirts for me before long,” he squeezed until you croaked, “you can even keep them on as I fuck you.”

“Go… to… hell,” you rasped.

He snickered and sat back on his heels with you straddled beneath him, “haven’t you realised? We’re already there.”

💀

You laid there for hours after Loki left you. Even though the mattress was preferable to the floor, you didn’t sleep. You stared at the ancient ceiling and cursed every inch of that place.

Your thighs ached and that cut along your chest. Your arm was sore and raw each time it rubbed against your sleeve or the bed. You were more enraged than ever and you could hardly contain it and frustration had you kicking the mattress.

The windows were dark when he returned. He turned on the lamp beside you as the aroma of food tickled your stomach. You were desperately hungry but didn’t realise it until that moment. You salivated and gulped it down as he pulled up a chair and cradled the box in his lap.

“I’ve brought you dinner,” he said as he opened the cardboard container, “but… you have to use your manners, darling.”

“Get fucked,” you rolled onto your side so your back was to him.

“I can hear your stomach so let’s not pretend I believe you for a moment,” he taunted, “you will realise soon how weak you truly are.”

You didn’t say anything, nor did you move. You sneered at the wall as your arms strained above your head. He let out a long breath and then hummed in delight, “mmm, you know, this is not bad,” he commented, “your little diner has been the least disappointing aspect of this shithole.”

You gulped hungrily but refused to look back. He tapped his foot on the floor impatiently and sighed again.

“You would do yourself a favour if you did one for me,” he said, “say, if you accepted this generosity I might allow you another, perhaps a shower. Those cuts cannot remain unwashed.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you cut me,” you spat, “I don’t want anything from you and I definitely don’t want you. I’ll go live in the rubble, I don’t give a fuck.”

“You will,” he said as he stood and dragged the chair away, “but only you will pay for your stubbornness.”

💀

After another tussle, Loki relocated you once more to the radiator. He slept blissfully as you spent another restless night both sweating and shivering. When he woke, he offered you a bowl of instant oatmeal and you flipped it over. He tutted and went on with his day, leaving you again to stew in your wrath.

By the end of the day, your body rebelled with hunger and you accepted the bowl of soup he brought from The Chipped Saucer. You drank it from the paper cup but felt more rotten as it burned in your chest. He smirked as he watched you and you tossed the empty cup at him.

He scowled and you spent another night in cuffs. On the fourth day, he let you shower but kept you cuffed to the curtain bar for the ordeal. All modesty was gone as you were allowed only a plain white robe after and sat in the same spot, metal at your wrist, and wood at your back.

But you didn’t stop. You bit, you kicked, you hit, you swore, you screamed. A week passed and you wouldn’t accept it. You could see you were wearing on him and comforted yourself with the irritation in his sharp green eyes. You laughed at him outright and it stoked him further. He truly thought you’d never dealt with assholes before. You lived among them your whole life.

But that day when he came in, he was quiet though not sullen or angry. He was almost boasting as he still wore his new leather boots and dark parka. He tramped around and pulled out a mauve coloured dress, some satin and impractical undergarments, and a pair of heeled boots. He placed them calmly beside you but kept out of your reach.

He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. You shook your head at him and scoffed. He waited as you simply yawned into your palm.

“Don’t you want to go see your brother?” he asked.

“He can rot with the rest of you,” you hissed.

“So heartless,” he slithered, “but I shall relay the message to him, as hard as it may be.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” you huffed.

“Well, darling, I don’t know if he should hear me or even if he could, that it would put him in a worse condition,” he mused.

“Worse condition?” you grimaced.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, my apologies,” he preened, “why yes, it seems he did have an unfortunate incident. Some suspect it was an attempt on his own life but you know how gossip is in a town so small--”

“What--” you bit down on your lip, “is he… is he okay?”

“Why, he is rotting just as you wished, yes?” he asked coyly.

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Tell me he’s okay!” you tried to stand but were kept in a crouch by the cuffs.

“If you get dressed and behave, then you can see for yourself,” he said evenly, “or I will alone and hope that he survives his injuries… I wouldn’t expect the healthcare around here to be very adequate--”

“You fucking touch him--”

“What? You are wasting time, darling, and visiting hours will be over soon,” he warned.

You clenched your jaw and squinted at him. You swallowed your derision and blinked.

“Fine,” you said quietly, “I’ll… behave. Just take me to see him.”

“Good girl,” he came closer and knelt to grab your wrist, “but let me be clear, one misstep and you will never see him again. I should hate for him to die alone.”

“Just fucking undo me,” you snarled and his lips curved in triumph.

334 notes · View notes

shokami · 3 years

Text

featuring tsukishima, kenma, oikawa, and semi

genre fluff

word count 1.7k

tsukishima kei

if anyone were to be asked “do you think tsukishima likes to cuddle?” their answer would most definitely be no. which is false.

although he will always tease you about it first and foremost, he secretly enjoys his cuddling time with you.

the teasing has to happen, because it is almost always you who’s trying to initiate the cuddling first.

tsukki thinks that if he were to try to cuddle with literally anyone else, he would hate it. it isn’t because he’s not a people person, but because he’s only ever really cuddled with you. so he’s accustomed to the way you cuddle.

cuddling usually starts when you’re both in the middle of your movie binging, and you’ll be all wrapped up in blankets and eating snacks.

you always curl up underneath his arm, and cuddle into his side— or try to find a way to weasel your way into his lap.

your attempts at trying to get as physically close to him as possible, never fail to amuse him. he scoffs at your effort, and repositions you in a way that’s more comfortable for the two of you.

when it comes to finally sleeping, you’re still cuddled underneath his arm but he’ll pull you in more so that you can lay on his chest and entangle yourself with him.

you’re definitely a mess of limbs together.

slowly peaking your eyes open, you squinted at the absurdly bright rays of light that shined through the curtains. that was your que to finally get out of bed, and start your day.

against what tsukishima would have wanted, had he been awake— you decided to try and squirm your way out from under his grasp. you knew he hated that you were an early bird, he detests that about you everyday and he isn’t afraid to tell you.

as you attempted to wiggle out of the bed, you knew there was no way for you to escape his hold on you without waking him up. always unfortunate for you, considering he was a very grumpy morning person.

you could always smooth it over with a few good morning kisses though, he seemed to enjoy those.

just as you thought you could make it, you were almost out of arm's reach when the familiar cold fingers grasped around your wrist and pulled you back down on top of him. ��where do you think you’re going?”

“i wanna go shower, tsukki.” you groaned, already hearing the annoyance in his voice before even seeing his expression. “you could always get your lazy butt up, and come with.”

he groaned, tossing you to the side and pulling you into his chest in a new position. “why can’t we ever sleep in? you have an annoying sleeping pattern.”

“it’s not annoying! you just want to sleep in until 10, every weekend. we lose time like that.”

“yeah, obviously. that’s how time works.”

“tsukishima kei.”

“shut up. go back to sleep, and you can be cute later.”

another sigh, and you relaxed against tsukishima and the pillows once more. there was no use in trying to defy his need to sleep in, you wouldn’t win.

kozume kenma

the two of you are always cuddling, there is no doubt about that. not one bit.

if you aren’t cuddling, you’re still finding a way to be physically touching. touch starvation is very real, and you probably both have it.

when it comes to actually cuddling though, kenma prefers to either be the little spoon or be laying between your legs / on your stomach.

it’s actually your preferred way of sleeping too, as you’re both usually on your phones, or kenma is playing a game that you’re not really paying attention to.

you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair, scrolling through one of your social media apps, and without realizing it he’s drifted off to sleep with his arm wrapped around your waist and his head tucked into your stomach.

this is the comfiest sleeping position, but if either of you tosses and turns in your sleep it’s likely that the direct cuddling will stop.

but, the two of you will still have physical contact. kenma will either hold your hand from the opposite side of the bed, or you’ll still be close enough that your leg is brushing against his underneath the pile of blankets.

eventually though, you’ll probably roll over behind him and koala yourself against his back before repeating the cycle of tossing and turning again.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“kenma make it stop.” you pulled the blanket up over your head, cursing the alarm.

he made no noise, or movement— sleeping through the sound as if the room was silent.

you didn’t know why either of you ever had it set, it wasn’t like the two of you ever woke up at a decent hour. especially not when the god awful sound of it started screaming at you. it was always shut off, and tossed to the side. you made a mental note to tell kenma that you should just throw it out.

“KENMA! ALARM. OFF.”

finally snapping out of his sleep, he sat up startled by the noise of the alarm and your irritated sleepy voice. quickly slapping at the alarm on the nightstand, he silenced the beeping. climbing underneath the blankets to get closer to you in the dark room, you offered him a tired smile.

it was going to be another one of those days, where you continue to convince each other to sleep in just a little longer each hour. the previous nights antics, of screaming at the television screen at the new game you both decided to play, you were both overly exhausted and craved sleep. again.

“what time did the clock say?” you asked, pecking a kiss to his nose.

“11:30 a.m,” he closed his eyes once more, snuggling into you. “wanna sleep in longer?”

“i thought you’d never ask, kenken.”

oikawa tooru

he is almost always the big spoon. he loves how you fit into his arms, and feeling like he can protect you from the world.

it definitely gives him a certain type of satisfaction that he never really knew he needed, until he got to cuddle in bed with you for the first time.

oikawa being the big spoon helps him feel needed. which is something that he needs a lot of constantly, honestly.

however, there are times when you get to be the big spoon.

these times come after he’s had long tiresome practices, particularly hard days, or after losing a match.

more often than not, you end up in this sleeping position because he asked, or you came into the bedroom after he was already dozing off.

either way, you will always gladly oblige and climb into bed after him.

you always make sure to play with his hair, by softly brushing it away from his face

you were enjoying the body heat that was radiating off of oikawa, the warmth spread through you in the most comforting way. your internal clock could sense that the sun was rising, and ultimately you knew what came with that. that didn’t stop your unconscious mind hoping for the opposite though. you knew oikawa had already had a rough practice the day before, and you wanted nothing more than to keep him in your arms and rest for the morning.

that fantasy was quickly shattered.

the weight of the bed began to shift, and your arms were slowly unwrapped from his torso. attempting his move from the bed, you decided to take matters into your own hands. with ease, you softly grasped the back of his t-shirt and pulled him back down to the surface.

a surprised groan, followed by soft laughter; oikawa stared down at you as if you were a sleepy child. “angel face, i have to get ready for practice.”

“no, just a little while longer… please?” you pleaded, pulling the best performance with your pouty face.

with a soft kiss, oikawa collapsed fully into your arms once more. “20 minutes,” he told you sternly.

an hour passed by, and he was still in bed with you. he just can’t say no to that face. he hates the way you pout, and use it against him.

semi eita

if he wants to cuddle, you better be prepared for him to be grumpy about it.

he doesn’t know how to directly ask you for cuddles without being awkward, or sound demanding.

usually, he’ll just lay beside you and give you very indirect gestures that he assumes you’ll know mean that it’s affection time. ( you've picked up on the indirect hints he gives you.)

it’s very rare that semi will cuddle in any position that doesn’t involve him on top of you.

similar to kenma, he will lay between your legs with his chin resting on your stomach or your chest and just hold you like that.

he is also a very touchy cuddler, meaning he will rub your thigh, your sides, and play with your hair. whatever he can touch, he will. his love language is heavily dependent on touch.

when you’re finally falling asleep wrapped up in one another, he will most likely find a comfy position to lay with his head still on your chest.

we call this position the cradle.

the moment you began to stir, you could tell you were alone in bed. you were no longer intertwined with semi, but you could hear the distant noises of rustling around in the kitchen.

it wasn’t uncommon for semi to wake up before you, sneak out of your grasp, and go on to make a cup of coffee for himself or the both of you. he never wanted to wake you up early, because you looked so peaceful sleeping that he didn’t want to ruin that.

however, that did not stop him from peaking his head into the room to see if you were awake yet. as if on que, you heard the creek of the bedroom door followed by light footsteps.

“eita,” you opened one eye, looking up to see semis drowsy expression staring back at you. “come back to bed, baby. we can sleep in.”

“... but it’s already 7 a.m.”

“7 a.m is really early. we don’t have anything to do today, right?”

“no.”

“so… sleepy time, again?”

semi rolled his eyes, knowing that you would just keep asking if he didn’t climb back into bed. he didn’t know why he bothered waking up early, if you were just going to guilt him into bed again with puppy eyes.

“you’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?” he asked you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the palm of your hand.

a/n this was not supposed to be this long, and this is what it turned out to be... tooth rotting fluff. very nice maki

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years

Text

New York Special Salt: Confrontation

So....kind of had a thought on whether certain parties would respond poorly to discovering the stunt Alya and Nino pulled.

Salt to follow. Don’t like salt or characters being called out, don’t read below the cut:

"Wait. Wait. Wait." Adrien held up a hand to get their attention while cradling his head with the other. He couldn't believe this. He didn't want to believe this.

But he couldn't ignore it, he realized, as he lowered his hand and gave Alya and Nino a glare.

"Did you seriously lock us in a room with a fake supervillain just to see us make out?”

Nino floundered. Alya, however, went on the defensive.

"We were just giving you two a little alone time."

Neither Adrien nor Marinette looked happy with that response.

"I'm seeing someone!" Adrien exclaimed.

"I'm trying to move on from him!" Marinette cried.

Adrien balked at that. "Wait, you like me?"

"You're seeing someone!" Marinette repeated. "I couldn't just get in the way of that! I like you and Kagami is my friend!"

"At least someone cared about that." Adrien said, shooting Alya and Nino a dirty look.

“Nino, what the hell? You know I’m dating Kagami.”

The DJ winced. “I know. I just thought…well, you and Marinette have a lot in common.” He rubbed the back of his head. “And it’d be easier to double-date if it was the four of us and—”

Adrien glared, looking startlingly similar to his father.

“Alya made me do it!” Nino exclaimed, pointing to his girlfriend.

Alya turned on him in outrage. “Nino!”

This only made him turn on her, a full rant on his lips.

“Adrien!” Marinette started, moving in front of him and getting his attention. “It’s my fault! I like you and they knew that and they were just trying to help me—”

She was cut off at the abrupt way he turned to her and his intense stare.

“A…Adrien?”

“Marinette.” He stated, taking her hands in his own and smiling so sincerely at her.

“You are the kindest, most warm-hearted and honest person I know. It's what I've always admired about you. You apologize and try to make up for even the slightest of mistakes. You take full blame for things that aren’t completely your fault. You constantly help and defend people in need. You easily forgive others when they wrong you and try to help them regardless.”

In an instant, the warm sincere smile was gone. “I am asking you, for once: Don’t.”

“But—but it’s my fault—”

“Did you ask them to do this? Was this a plan you were in any way part of?” He questioned her.

“Well, to be fair I have made some pretty convoluted plans in the past—”

“Marinette.”

Her name was sharp on his tongue. Brokering no argument. Demanding a simple answer.

She winced.

“No.” She mumbled, a mix of bitterly for the truth and guiltily for the lack of defense for her friends.

“Then for once, let me stand up for you.”

…well.

…What could she say to that?

She allowed Adrien to gently push her behind him as he squared off with Alya and Nino.

“You lured us into a room with no idea what was going on. You trapped us there and had us think we were in danger. You created a villain that made us believe no one loves us—which even with the fact that we weren’t ‘technically’ in danger, was a rather cruel thing to do.” He spat out, sounding especially hurt.

All three of those present winced.

“What part of any of this seemed like a good idea?” He demanded.

“We were just trying to give her a chance—”

“Did you even ask her? Or me? At what point did either of us tell you that being forced into an anxiety-inducing and potentially life-threatening situation was on our to-do list for this trip?”

“But it wasn’t life-threatening! Neither of you were hurt!” Alya pointed out.

Like that excused it. Like that made this any better.

“You didn’t know we wouldn’t be, Alya! We didn’t know what was going on! We could have hurt ourselves trying to escape!” He countered, practically seething at this point. “What were you thinking?!”

Alya narrowed her eyes and steeled her resolve.

“Marinette was going to give up on you before either of you had a chance to see if it would work! I had to help!”

The pigtailed girl covered her face with her hands. “I was trying to move on, I promise!”

“And you couldn’t try talking?!” He shouted back at Alya. “You couldn’t just TELL ME?!”

“Chill out, man. Marinette tried.” Nino spoke up, trying to defend.

“I didn’t mean for this—” Marinette cried. “I just wanted a good trip as friends!”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Marinette tried many times, but she always flaked out at the end, so I just tried to set up a stage she couldn’t run from at the last minute—”

“Then why didn’t YOU just tell me yourselves if it was that damned important?”

Suddenly, everything went quiet. Marinette looked up, tearful.

Nino backed up, warily.

Alya…actually looked a bit pale.

Adrien was shaking at this point, but forcing himself to remain steady.

“You both knew Marinette liked me. Fine. Sure. Apparently she was having trouble telling me this. That’s okay. You knew she felt this way and was having trouble telling me. I get that.”

He glared.

“What I don’t get is why it was necessary to go THIS far instead of just TELLING me what was going on yourselves?!”

“Marinette didn’t want to—”

“But she wanted to be stuck with me on a plane to the point of a panic attack? She wanted to be shoved in a room with me? She wanted to feel threatened with a supervillain attack on top of the anxiety of being pushed to confess to me? If she couldn’t tell me and you two weren’t going to tell me, then WHY BOTHER WITH THIS AT ALL?! What was all of THIS supposed to accomplish that simply telling me yourselves wouldn’t?”

“We…” Alya hesitated. “I was just trying to help.”

“If you wanted to help, you would LISTEN to your best friend when she tells you what she wants!” Adrien shouted, gesturing to Marinette. “She just said she wanted to move on! She wanted to NOT have to confess! She wanted to just try and be friends! And yeah, I’m shocked and a little frustrated that I never caught on to any of her feelings before now, but that’s because I’m a teenage boy who is new to feelings and I didn’t know about hers!”

He glared at Alya.

“What’s your excuse?”

Silence.

It took a moment for Adrien to force himself to calm.

“I’m in a relationship. I do not want to cheat on Kagami. Marinette doesn’t want to disrupt what we have. Forcing us into a locked room together to force her to confess when she’s not ready and doesn’t want to would not result in any sort of happy or healthy relationship between us due to those factors. Which you both should have known.” He said, shooting another glare at them.

“But—”

“I’m still new to how friendship works. But this…this isn’t how a friend acts. You don’t push a friend into a position they’re not comfortable with. You don’t discourage them from doing what’s healthier for them. And you don’t keep setting them up to fail.”

Alya gaped. “I…I don’t want her to fail!”

“You aren’t helping her to succeed.” He pointed out. “And if you truly think that forcing these situations neither of us are comfortable with is supposed to be necessary, then maybe you should rethink why this is really so important to you.”

Adrien took Marinette’s hand in his and started leading her to the door.

If the situation were different, maybe Marinette would have felt her heart flutter. But as it stood, she could barely tell over the way it was pounding in her ears from the anxiety and stress of this whole situation.

“I’m going to take Marinette. And we’re going to talk about where we stand as friends.” He shot a final glare at the other two.

“Maybe you should consider the same.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

#ml salt #ml special #ml drabble #alya salt #nino salt

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jjkxlv · 3 years

Text

Daddy Day Care

➥Summary: When Jungkook had a sudden meeting but he's babysitting

➥Genre: Fluff, established relationship, baby daddy Jungkook, oh did I mention FLUFF

➥Warnings: None

➥Words count: 2.2k

“Are you sure you can do this? I can just cancel it and stay in with you guys”

“Babe just go, we’ll be fine. You’re making me feels like I’m a bad father”

“We both know that you’re not like that”

You went up to him to gently rub his arm to comfort him. Both of you have had this conversation going on since last night. Your friends had asked you to join them on a meet up since it’s been a long time you guys last spent time together or to be frankly speaking since most of your friends in your squad decided to settle down for good. So, they thought it’s a good idea to meet and catch up do things you guys would always do like getting your nails done together, go for a massage and have dinner together once in a while.

You’d told Jungkook about the meet up last night and he without hesitation agree for you to join your friend. You were ecstatic that you end up smooching all over his face. Even when Jungkook agreed, you still have this second thought about leaving your 8 months’ daughter with Jungkook alone. Well Jungkook, he decides to stay in and work from home in order to watch over your first born.

It’s not Jungkook that you don’t believe to leave your daughter with. You just concern if she will disturb him during his working hours. But, as the boss himself, Jungkook had reassured you saying that your daughter won’t disturb him and if she does there’s exactly nothing you should worry about.

So, this is why you are here right now, in your front door, with Jungkook and your baby in his arm sending you off.

“Okay, bye take care baby” Jungkook said while he leans for a kiss which you gladly give it.

“I will and if anything happen calls me okay” you said back.

“You know I would” he said giving you a reassuring smile.

“Yeah and you remember right how to make her milk. Just take the one that-“

“Yes, yes I know, you told me this like hundred times already just go. I’ll manage her. Besides, this little angel will never cause me problems right. My baby is a good girl isn’t she. Aren’t you a good girl my Yesul aren’t you?” Jungkook said while cooing at his daughter which resulted for her to erupt to a fit of giggles while jumping slightly and she snuggles her face on her daddy’s chest with her tiny arms opens to hug him.

Your heart feels warm while watching the scene unfolding in front of you. Maybe you should go now before you change your mind.

“I think it’s better for me to get going before I change my mind and stay in bed to cuddle with you guys all day” you said, smiling fondly at the loves of your life. Your little family.

“Yeah you should, you know we can always do that on other time if you want too”

“I know” you said, leaning in for another kiss which he immediately leans in too. You kissed him and your daughter a few times more before you got into the car which Jungkook had prepared for you with his driver inside to drive you anywhere. You waved at the them a few time and you saw Jungkook was holding your daughter’s arm to wave back at you. You love them so much you’re your eyes are tearing up watching them. You know why you’re being like this. Since Yesul are born there’s only a few times you leave her behind. Before this, you either just bring her with you or you leave her at your sister’s. You know that you need this. Some times to spend on whatever you love to do. So, with a heavy sigh, you asked Mr. Lee to get going.

Jungkook POV

“Now that mommy is gone what do you want to do with me today Yesul-ah? You must be hungry don’t you let’s see what daddy can do for our breakfast” Jungkook said while walking towards the kitchen with Yesul cradled in his arm.

“Ouh look! There’s a pancake batter! We could eat this! Do you want to eat some pancake Yesulie?” He playfully asked his daughter while slightly bouncing her in his arm.

“You’re gonna have to sit and wait for daddy can you do that for me?” with a finger pointed at his daughter, Jungkook said with a stern yet playful tone. With that, he took Yesul to the living room and sat her down on the carpeted floor. He then went to Yesul badroom and took a few of her toys to keep her entertain while he went to cook the pancake.

After some times, Jungkook grabbed a slice of pancake and cut it into a few small pieces so that the 8 months old can eat easily. When he went to the living room, he saw his baby standing while gripping the couch and she tried to take a few steps forwards but failed. Touched by the scene, Jungkook remain quiet and he took out his phone to record the scene unfolding in front of him so he can show you latter. While he silently recording, Yesul got back up and she gripped the couch for her support again and she managed to get a few wobble steps and she back down. Proud. That’s all he felt at the moment. When he’s about to go to Yesul his phone suddenly rang.

“Hello Kim, what’s the matter”

It was Kim, his secretary plus personal manager.

“Hi boss, sorry to bother you on your day off but something came up. Do you remember when I told you that you’re supposed to have lunch with Mr. Lee to discuss about the upcoming project that we’d team up together on this Friday right?”

“Yes I do, what happened?”

“Well Mr. Lee got calls from his siblings at Japan and something came up. So, he really needs to discuss this with you before he went to Japan”

“So when is it he’s going to Japan?”

“Tomorrow”

Jungkook was speechless. But it’s not the bad kind of speechless. He was thinking. Thinking on how he could solve this. He can’t bring Yesul out on a business lunch. Or maybe he actually can. He thought. Yesul is just a baby. What problem would she cause? He thought.

“Boss, are you there?”

“Oh, yes yes I’m here”

“So do you still want to go yourself or you want me to get someone to represent us?”

“No no, it’s okay I’ll go but Kim can you please tell them that I’ll bring my daughter with me. Just for some heads up”

“Of course, of course no problem boss. Sorry for interrupting your day off again”

“Please don’t be. It’s not your fault. I’ll get going first. Thank you for informing this to me”

“My pleasure boss”

With that the phone call ends. Jungkook waste no time in grabbing Yesul into his his arm and bring her to the dinner table. Jungkook ate his breakfast while he fed the pancake to his daughter. After they finished, Jungkook went to Yesul’s room to get her ready. For her outfit of the day, Jungkook choose a knee length polka dot pastel pink and white dress with a little flower on her chest part and he paired it with a white legging and a pastel pink flower headband. It was the time like this. The time when he showers his baby or when he feed her food or when she gets her ready it hits him. He really is a dad and he felt warmth seeping all through his body. He loved her so much.

After he’s done he put Yesul inside her cradle and went to get ready himself. Since it was emergency he decided to go for a more casual outfit. He choosed a simple white sweatshirt and paired it with jeans. Since he already knows Lee a long time ago, he doesn’t think the formality is needed so much. After he’s done, he calls you just to let you know that they’re going out.

“Hi babe, What’s up?” You asked.

“Hi baby, are you having fun?”

“Yes I am; why did you call. Something happened?”

“Oh yeah, something did happen at the office but don’t worry I’ll handle it but I’m calling to tell you that I’m taking Yesul out for a lunch with Mr. Lee to discuss on our new project”

“Oh you be okay with taking Yesul with you”

“I will don’t worry, I’m just calling to let you know though”

“Alright, take care. Call me if something happen. I love you both”

“I will. Take care too. Love you. Bye”

After he ends the call Jungkook jog to his car and get the baby car seat ready. Then he went and take Yesul and buckled her up on her seat. Yesul giggled slightly when Jungkook was putting her seat belt. So typical of her. She always gets giddy when she’s being put on the car seat. Maybe she knows that they’re going somewhere. Jungkook kissed her cheeks and her forehead then jog around to get to the driver seat. The ride went on with Yesul’s soft mumble. She’ll squealed excitedly every once in a while.

Arrived at the reastaurant, Jungkook took Yesul into his arm and smooch all over her face which he’d been holding back during the whole car ride. How can he not be, the little baby was talking non-stop and he can’t resist her cuteness. Entering the restaurant, there he saw his what you can say friend.

“Hi Jungkook, nice to see you again” he greet while offering his hand for a handshake.

“Hi, yes it’s really been a long time. You looked quite busy though”

“I’m and with all this family problem going around at Japan, My schedule is packed”

“Understandable” Jungkook replied.

“Awh looked who do we have here. A little boss lady. How old is she again?”

“8 months” Jungkook replied while smiling. “What is your name Yesulie? Tell uncle what’s your name?” Jungkook asked his daughter, face lowered down to her eyes level while slightly bouncing her up one his arm.

“What’s your name baby? Are you shy? Why’re you so cute hmm? Mr. Lee said while gently touching her fingertips.

Overwhelmed with the attention she received, she shied away from the touch and gripped Jungkook shirt and snuggled her face on his chest.

“Come Jungkook take a seat” He said while pointing at their table which his secretary booked at the first place.

They place their order and proceed with the meeting. Jungkook also ordered a small bowl of mushroom soup for Yesul. Yesul really is a good girl. Only fiddled with her soft toys which Jungkook brought from their home on his lap. She never bothers her daddy once. When their orders arrived Jungkook quickly grabbed Yesul’s hand so that she will not reach anything. Even when in a deep conversation, Jungkook would picked up a spoon and take some of the soup he ordered to feed the baby. Lee was amused with the scene. He knows Jungkook since before he was married. Now that he was married and have a baby made him realised how fast time flies.

After almost 2 hours they we’re discussing about their project, Yesul was getting restless. She denied Jungkook offer of food with not opening her mouth and she began to softly cry and finally the dam broke. Jungkook know that it was his que to get going. Putting Yesul in his arm while gently rubbed her back while whispering sweet nothing to calm her down, Jungkook finished their discussion.

“I think I should get going, It’s been quite some times since she had her milk, she’s getting bored”

“Yeah I think you should. Have a safe drive. Yesulie will be a good girl and let daddy drive in peace hmm” Mr. Lee said while lowering his face to see eye to eye with the crying baby which resulted for her to wail even harder

“Okay, okay I won’t bother you anymore” He said while chuckling.

“If everything just call me” With that being said Jungkook made his exit to his car. Putting Yesul on her seat again she starts to wail harder.

“It’s okay baby, we going home to mommy” He said while wiping her tear stained cheeks. Drive back home was far from peaceful but Jungkook managed to get both of them back home safely. When he enters your household, he saw you waiting on the front door.

You felt happy to see them after a long time been separate from each other. Going to his car you see your baby was crying. You couldn’t help but to chuckle.

“Awhhh what happened baby” you asked your baby while picking her from her car seat. Upon smelling your scent Yesul stop crying and she wrapped her chubby arm around your neck while mumbling only god knows what into your neck. She’s telling a story. You thought to yourself. While gently rubbing her back you asked Jungkook.

“How’s the meeting? She asked with a warm smile

“Couldn’t be better” he replied genuinely. “Yesul was such a good girl at first but she started crying after some times but good things that we almost done at that time”

“Awhhh great job Yesulie, I know my baby would always behave well” you said to your baby. With one hand holding Yesul and the other you both went inside your house and continue with your night routine. Your life couldn’t be happier. You wished for Yesul to never grow up and stay being your little baby forever.

Author's note

Hiii it's mee😁😁I'm back with another story but i decided to last minute change the plot. The ending was bad but i hope you enjoy your time here. Sorry for any mistakes because I'm to lazy to read back everything😁🙏🏻constructive comments are really welcomed🥰

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing and I may or may not have stalked your blog a little. I saw requests were open, if you're ok with this can you write poly Bruabba's first time with a virgin s/o. Please?

Have a nice day!

shared - abbacchio x reader x bruno (2k)

everything always seems to be perfect, when it’s with them

afab reader, neutral pronouns aside from one use of ‘principessa’. not sfw! threesome/poly relationship, first time. oral sex.

“We’ll be very gentle with you,” Bruno had murmured, humming against your ear, his fingers resting on your hips as you were cradled in his lap. In front of you, Abbacchio has already lost his shirt and his trousers, and now his pale hands are reaching for you, carefully lacquered nails taking hold of the hem to tug it upwards. “Leone can be a little rough, but even he can will himself to something a bit more considerate.”

Abbacchio snorts at Bruno’s words, but then your shirt is coming off and you’re just in front of them in your bra, hungry eyes raking over the newly exposed skin. You feel your cheeks heat up, squirming in Bruno’s lap.

“Says you,” Abbacchio says. “Amore, don’t let his ‘kind man of the people’ act fool you. In bed, he can be every bit as depraved as I can--”

“Leone,” Bruno’s voice has a light laugh. You know, from whispers in your ear and romantic notions put into your head, that Abbacchio is probably right – but still, as Bruno’s hands move up from your hips to lodge in the spaces of your ribcage, your head comes to rest on Bruno’s shoulder. You sigh into the air as careful fingers unclip your bra, the fabric falling from you – your nipples peaking in the cool night-time air.

“Look at you,” Abbacchio murmurs. The scratch of his nails down your stomach as he goes for the zipper of your jeans next sends a lightning flash of warmth through you, a curious heat and heaviness between your thighs. “You’re so pretty, tesoro.” The loving pet name coming from between Abbacchio’s lips makes your heart skip a beat – he’s usually rather less romantic than Bruno is, though when you look at his ice-pale eyes you see they’re all melted and softened by fondness. Bruno’s thumbs brush over your nipples, making you shiver, and making Bruno’s lips where you can see them from the corner of your eye tilt into a smirk.

“So responsive,” he coos, enthralled, repeating the motion so you squirm once more. You’re aware of a heat between your thighs, a kind of slick pounding that makes your head spin. “I wonder how many times we can make you come between us tonight.”

Your jeans are unbuttoned, peeled down your thighs – your legs spread. Abbacchio stares down at the place between your legs, where your underwear is slick and clinging deliciously to your damp folds, with the air of a man looking at a beautiful work of art.

His reaches, fingers skimming your bare thigh – thumb tracing the indent of the valley between them, barely skimming your pulsing clit where it’s pressing against the fabric. You sigh against Bruno, back half-arching into the touch, heart pounding a consistent rhythm in your ears.

“I can smell you,” Abbacchio growls.

“Perhaps you should taste,” comes Bruno’s suggestion, vested in teasing – but there’s a steely quality to his words that makes you think that perhaps he is not merely making a suggestion. It’s a quality that both you and Abbacchio seem to respond to – the pale-haired man bites his lip briefly, for a fleeting moment – before he ducks his head and chuckles.

“You’re so wet,” he tells you, as his thumbs hook into the waistband – as you’re rid of that scrap of fabric too, and your sex is bared entirely for Abbacchio to drink in.

Drink in he does.

First, with his eyes – caressing the length of your slit, drawn to the fluttering hole and your plump clit, how the pink folds are glistening with your own slick. And then, as he settles on his knees and leans forward and breathes in, he turns his attention to drinking you in with his mouth.

The first long, hot lick of his tongue against your sex you keen; as he lathes the blunt wetness against your heated core, your hands reach up to cling to Bruno’s neck, your own fingers twisting in the other man’s silky dark hair. Bruno’s eyes are trained between your thighs, to where Abbacchio is lapping at you like you’re water in a dessert.

“He looks so good there, hmm?” Bruno asks, and you look down and see exactly what Bruno sees – subservient Abbacchio, eyes unfocussed as he concentrates on how the sweetness of your nectar tastes on his tongue. “I’m probably better at this than he is, but it doesn’t mean he’s not good--”

“Aa—hnn, ‘m--” Your words are lost as Abbacchio’s tongue teases at the tip of your clit, rolling the sensitive nub over and around. Bruno chuckles dark and deep.

“Next time, I’ll get to use my mouth on you,” he murmurs. “And he can watch. Would you like that, principessa?”

“Y-yes,” you breathe, as Abbacchio ramps up the speed of how his tongue is flicking over your clit. You can feel your body responding with tight vibrations of need, like you’re being lit on a hundred tiny fires. Your fingers desperately rake through Bruno’s hair still, as your voice turns into a collection of shaky whines instead of anything coherent. As Abbacchio sucks your clit into his mouth to suckle on it, Bruno murmurs;

“We’re just preparing you, you know. So you’re slick and wet and ready when we get to finally fuck you--” and you are pushed over the edge, by Bruno’s velvet-edged voice. Fireworks in your stomach, the sound of waves rushing in your ears, Abbacchio’s tongue easing you over the highest peak and the smaller aftershocks that come next. He pulls back from your sex with his mouth glimmering with your wetness, and he kisses Bruno like he’s sharing the taste,

The younger gangster does not disappoint, moaning in pleasure as their mouth sloppily glide together. Bruno’s dark ocean eyes go half-lidded with enjoyment.

“You taste divine,” he tells you, and he kisses your cheek. Your limbs are still pleasantly fuzzy, your body still not caught up with anything else after the shake and rock of your orgasm, so as Abbacchio gently eases you off Bruno’s lap and lays you down among the pillows, you have nothing to say or do except smile fuzzily at them.

“Do you think you’re ready to carry on?” The silver-haired man asks, settling into the bed next to you, brushing hair from your forehead. “You can let us know if you need a break, we won’t hold it against you – this is for you, as much as it’s for us--”

Your attention is caught by Bruno pulling down his trousers. There’s been a respectable tent in them all the while you were squirming as you were eaten out by Abbacchio, but as the clothing item is finally stripped off from him completely, you see that ‘respectable’ is not quite the right word.

“He’s thick,” Abbacchio says, and the hunger in his voice is palpable. “He fills you up exactly right, tesoro, I promise--”

Bruno gives his shaft a few pumps, showing off in front of both of your enraptured gazes. The smile on his face is lazy – he knows that you both like what you see very much indeed. It doesn’t mean he’s not going to make fun of you, though.

“You don’t need to stare, Leone,” Bruno chides, smug. “You’ve had it in you enough times . . . And you,” he turns his attention to you, raising an eyebrow, murmuring your name in a way that makes your toes curl and the liquid heat between your thighs feel like it’s molten lava. “You’ll get to know it just as well, soon. Better to learn it with your body, don’t you think? I won’t ruin you, your first time.”

You’d thought you’d be more anxious about your first time, let alone your first time with them. But Bruno and Abbacchio are not making it a big deal, beyond the fact that they’re focused on your pleasure, on making sure that everything is comfortable for you – they aren’t making a song-and-dance about it, they’re just . . . treating you how they always do, with extra genitals and nakedness involved. They’re barely mentioning that it’s your first time ever, the fear of disappointing them being pushed somewhere far in the back of your mind--

“Yes,” you breathe, urging your thighs wider apart and winning a chuckle from Bruno. Bruno moves closer to you, settling himself on his knees between your legs. He adjusts the angle of his cock, brushing it over your sex, coating it in your slick juices and Abbacchio’s fluids too – before he gently sinks inside of you, the head catching on the rim of your entrance.

A soft noise of surprise escapes you at the stretch. Immediately, one big hand is grabbing yours, fingers entangling – Abbacchio, murmuring something softly about how good you are that you can’t fully parse because another hand has grabbed your other hand, lacing those fingers together. This hand is tan, a definite shudder in the clench of his knuckles – one hand held by one boyfriend, the other held by the other.

Bruno takes his time sheathing his cock inside you. You’re tight around him, clinging to his walls like you’ll barely fit him, and he does it for both of your benefits – but oh, the slick walls pulsing around him and how the mould so well. The little pants escaping your pretty mouth. His eyes flicker from you, your eyelashes fluttering and your mouth half-open and pleasure-daze clouding your vision – to Abba, who looks like the two most beautiful angels in all of heaven have come down to spend time with him in particular. He’s worshipful. If Bruno were a different man, and you were different too, perhaps that look would have made you both conceited. Instead, you smile dreamily at the two of them, your gaze flittering from one to another with an air that seems to say ‘I love you’ over and over again.

He hilts. He’s as deep in you as he can go, all snug and hot and tight and wet – and he pulls out a little, and drives in again, revelling in the wet sounds of your intimate areas echoing through the room.

You’re so wet for him. You’re so good, for both of them – your hand slack in Abbacchio’s as you moan out first Bruno’s name and then Abbacchio’s, aware that even if it is Bruno that’s fucking you right now, all of this pleasure is a team effort.

You’re perfect.

Bruno’s hips pick up speed as he finds a rhythm – not too fast, not too slow. The perfect middle ground that you feel every vein and throb of his shaft, but not so slow that you concentrate on the stretch and burn. Your head is rolling around on the pillow, beads of sweat forming at your hairline as you pant and gasp out along with Bruno’s own thrusts. Abbacchio’s sighing, unconsciously bucking his hips as he watches the two of you – he’ll need some gentle handling later, and you wonder if Bruno will help teach you how to make Abbacchio feel as good as the paler-haired man had made you feel.

Bruno’s thrusts begin to get sharper, his hips seeming to hit you just a little deeper. As he continues to fuck your welcoming walls, a sharpness appears in his eye and a slight grit to his teeth – you realise, as he groans out your name again, that he’s rapidly approaching his own orgasm.

“Bruno,” you whimper, trying to move your hips in tandem with his though you can’t help but feel that your movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, nowhere near good enough to compare with the glide of Bruno’s cock inside you. “Feels . . . feels so good--”

Bruno laughs, a breathless noise.

“You just wait until we can both get in you at the same time, amore.” That one is Abbacchio, dark and gritty – and Bruno groan-laughs at it, his hips twitching, jerking into you with a sudden lack of finesse as you feel a creamy heat and thickness fill you. Bruno pushes his come inside you with a few more weak jabs of his hips before he pulls out, your combined release dripping out of you even after Bruno’s efforts.

“You did so well,” Bruno coos at you, bringing a hand to stroke the side of your face. “So perfect, tesoro . . . so perfect for us--” His eyes have gone half-lidded and his voice is slurred with sleep and pleasure as he pets at you, even these clumsy movements making you feel warm and safe.

“Not quite perfect, “ Abbacchio says. His voice is a little dry. You raise your sleepy eyes to look at him – and your gaze is immediately drawn to the place between his thighs, where he’s wearing only underwear, where the long imprint of his cock is clearly visible in a state that’s best described as ‘straining’. “Someone who’s perfect wouldn’t leave me with this problem--”

Bruno laughs that laugh again, deep and rich like the first coffee you’d ever shared with them on a crisp spring day.

“Who says we’re leaving you, caro?” He asks – he turns to you, smirking. “Do you want another first time lesson, amore?”

You swallow, eyeing the bulge in Abbacchio’s pants, the swollen lips from where you suppose he must have bitten down on them to try and distract from how turned on he was.

“Yes,” you whispers. “Absolutely.”

#not sfw #writing #poly ship tag #leone abbacchio x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #bruabba x reader #poly bruabba #leone abbacchio #brunobuccellati #jojo postin #Anonymous

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d0llpie · 3 years

Note

prompt 16 ;; in your req rules you said this was okay so i hope its fine :,) could i have oikawa, iwaizumi and tsukishima finding their s/o's fresh (or old if you prefer) sh scars? the way it ends should be fluff lol, im only asking because this would bring me comfort </3 either way i love your writing ur amazing<3

Self Harm Comfort

oikawa x reader, iwaizumi x reader, tsukkishima x reader

Warnings: self harm mention, blood mention, this topic is very triggering so please do not read if uncomfortable, i add tags that can be blacklisted for this topic !

a/n: hi love, i hope this brought you some comfort, my messages are always open, have a beautiful day <333

prompt: “i know i’m not what you signed up for”

wc: 1.9k

Oikawa

~ You hadn’t been dating Oikawa very long, he never questioned why you always wore long sleeves and honestly he didn’t think much of it

~ You were proud to say that you hadn’t self harmed since your relationship had begun, he was always doting and caring while also being fun and a distraction for you. You loved him with all your heart and knew he loved you too

~ You knew you couldn’t hide them from him forever but you didn’t realise he was coming over to surprise you, wanting to take you on a date

You’d been in your head all day, you couldn’t help it, your thoughts spiraled and you were back in that dark place you’d been so happy to be out of for so long. You hated that you resorted to this but coping this way became to familiar that before you knew it, you found yourself on the bathroom floor, blade in one hand and bloody tissues in the other. Tears were rolling down your cheeks but you stared blankly ahead of you, you didn’t feel any better, your thoughts turning to tooru, what would he think? This only made your tears come out faster, shame creeping up on you, your thoughts spiraling darker and deeper until you were stuck overthinking and rolling your sleeve higher.

You didn’t hear Oikawa open the door or walk towards the bathroom, you did hear his gasp in the door frame as he dropped to his knees in front of you, cradling you in his arms, wetting your shirt with his own tears. “Y/n, why didn’t you tell me? What happened? What are you doing?” you were too shocked to answer, scared that this was the end of your relationship and you’d be trapped again with your thoughts, alone. “i-“ you tried to speak but it came out in a choked sob and Oikawa shushed you, pulling you to sit on the edge of the bathtub while he fetched your med kit. He was silent cleaning your wounds, occasional sniffles let out which only make you overthink even more. Once he bandaged your arm you held his wrist still.

“Tooru i wanted to tell you, i hadn’t done this since before we started dating, i’ve been doing well i dont know what happened and i know i’m not what you signed up for, i’m sorry i’m really sorry it’s just-“ “you are exactly what i signed up for. I want you, all of you, i just wish you felt comfortable enough with me to tell me, this scares me y/n, i need you and i’m sorry that i was to ignorant to realise how you were feeling..” you cupped his cheek “no tooru baby you don’t need to apologise..” “you don’t need to either y/n, i’m going to help you, please tell me when you feel like this...i don’t know what to do but i’m not leaving. i’m staying right beside you okay?” you nodded, tearing up again and burying your face in his chest “why are you crying my love?” you lifted your head, pressing your lips against his slowly “i love you tooru, i’m s-“ “don’t you dare apologise, i love you too.” you giggled softly, sniffling before returning back to his chest.

“C’mon y/n, let’s watch your favourite movie and i’ll let you braid my hair to distract you hmm?” you smiled up at him, you both looked a mess, red puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks but you were there in each other’s arms, safe and in love.

Iwaizumi

~ Iwaizumis love language was touch, it reassured him to feel you against him and showed you how much he loved you when he would absentmindedly trace patterns on your skin

~ He always had to have some form of physical contact with you, holding pinkies in crowded spaces, holding your hips while talking to people

~ It shouldn’t have surprised you that he’d eventually feel them

He’d had a long day, the team wasn’t listening to him and all he wanted to do was come home and fall asleep on your chest while you played with his hair. He hated staying late training the team but he knew you were going to be there tonight, waiting for him to come home. It was so domestic, coming back to see you in his apartment, wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of his boxers, the thought kept him going throughout the day and drive home.

Iwa was coming come home late again so you decided to take a shower and head to bed, you got out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body as you made your way into the bedroom to grab one of iwas hoodies. Iwaizumi walked into the bedroom to see you in just a towel, he smiled at you and wrapped his arms around you, breathing in deeply. You froze underneath him, did he see? would he think you were weak? disgusting? you tried calming your breathing but Iwaizumi obviously noticed your state and stepped back, running his hands over your shoulders and down your arms “what’s wrong?” he froze when his arms reached your forearms, running his fingers over the raised flesh so he knew he wasn’t imagining it. Your breathing only sped up, your throat felt like it was constricting. “y/n...” he was angry, not at you, at himself. You’d been together for so long and he never realised? He used to find the fact that you only wore oversized hoodies adorable, seeing you drown in the material warmed his heart, now it made him sick. Did you not want him to see? Did you not trust him? Why didn’t he notice?

“Ouch Haji..” your squeak shook him out of his thoughts and he released your wrists, not realising how tight his grip was getting. He then noticed your wide eyes and shallow breaths and realised you were having a panic attack “y/n-shit. i’m so sorry here, breathe with me baby okay?” he held your hands and led your breathing until you calmed down. You changed into one of his shirts and some shorts before sitting next to him on the bed. “Baby, please tell me none of those are new.” he pulled you onto him so you were sitting on him “they aren’t, i was going to tell you i was just...ashamed? i’m not sure it’s complicated, i know i’m not what you signed up for..” he held your arm out gently, tracing the scars with his fingers before pressing your wrist against his lips. He kissed along each of your scars, mumbling how much he loved you while a few stray tears escaped his eyes.

“If you ever feel that way again, i want you to tell me first okay? I love you, you’re so strong and beautiful, you’re my home okay? i need you and i want you to be able to rely on me too.” you nodded before kissing him, smiling against his lips “thank you haji” you began playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and he nuzzled his face into your neck, picking you up and lying you down fully under the covers “you don’t have to hide them around me y’know” you hummed, playing with his hair, kissing his forehead as he peppered kisses along your jaw “goodnight haji”.

Tsukkishima

~ you don’t know what exactly led you to feeling this way again, but you were back to feeling numb, wanting more than anything to feel

~ although you knew better, you still made you way to the bathroom, blade in hand like you were on autopilot

~ you hadn’t told tsukkishima yet, too afraid of what he’d say, what he’d do. He was rarely serious as it was and you didn’t feel the need to burden him with this

Tsukkishima wasn’t dumb. He was smart, he noticed when you were uncomfortable in public and would take you out of there without you needing to express your discomfort. He noticed advertisements for that show you mentioned a few weeks ago on the back of a bus. He noticed the clothes you wore and how you fiddled with the edges of your sleeves. He noticed the empty look behind your eyes sometimes and the fake smiles you’d send his way when he asked if you were feeling okay. He hated it. He felt so powerless, he wasn’t certain but he was almost positive and he wanted to help you but he didn’t know how.

You weren’t answering your phone so Tsukki let himself inside, making his way up to your room only to see your phone on your bed but you nowhere to be found. He walked down the hallway and noticed the light on in the bathroom.

You looked up from the floor, hearing a knock on the bathroom door. “Yes? I’m in here.” your heart leapt into your throat when the door knob started rattling and you quickly sat against the door. “Y/N? move, what are you doing on the floor?” You froze at the sound of Keis voice “Kei? what are you doing here?” you tried to push harder against the door but he pushed it far enough to let himself into the bathroom. You had rolled your sleeves back down but he saw the bloodied blade on the counter. “Take off the jacket” you rolled your eyes “I’m not in the mood right now Kei” he moved towards you “y/n.” the sad tone in his voice made your lip quiver, he knew. You slowly took your jacket off and looked away from him as you started to tear up “i know i’m not what you signed up for but please-“”dumbass, why didn’t you tell me...” you looked up at him to find him staring at the cuts, you tried to speak but you couldn’t.

Tsukki moved to the medicine cabinet and took out some bandages and alcohol wipes, cleaning and dressing the wounds while you cried softly. “y/n, i’m not leaving okay? you don’t need to cry, i’m here.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and he hugged your waist, burying his nose in your hair. “Kei i’m sorry i didn’t tell you i just didn’t want you to break up with me..” “i’ve known for a while now, i’m not mad but i will be if you feel like this again and don’t tell me. I’m you boyfriend, you’re one of the few people i can stand and i’m not gonna have you thinking i don’t care okay?” you nodded at him, burying your face in his chest “i love you kei, i promise i’ll talk to you more..” he rubbed your back soothingly “good, dumbass. i love you too..”

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peachyaone · 3 years

Text

the pain of losing and the relief from comfort.

pairings: giyuu tomioka x gn! reader

warnings: mentions of battle and a breakdown.

plot: you break from the pain, can giyuu put you back together?

The mission started like any other but quickly turned into a living hell. An upper moon with a large group of its friends, slaughtering the unprepared and terrified slayers one by one. You tried to assist them but there was too much for you alone to handle.

Giyuu was gone, he was assisting others at the other side of the field. Your legs were so close to collapsing. You look up to see one of the demons grasping another slayer, its large hand crushing his neck, killing him instantly. You sped by and sliced its head, killing the beast.

The determined slayers fought their hardest, and after hours of fighting, almost all the demons in the area had been defeated. There were too many casualties and injuries to keep going with the mission.

“FALL BACK!” Your voice echoed through the battlefield. Then you saw The Upper Moon cornered a group of slayers. You knew those kids. “No.” You said under your breath. You pushed yourself forward.

You would never forgive yourself if you let them die here.

You saw it grabbing one of them, you were begging to the skies to let you get there in time. But then a group of demons stopped you. You fought them in a desperate, rushed manner. You heard screams coming from the group. Your heart started to beat a thousand miles per hour. You were so, so exhausted.

"SENSEI!” “PLEASE HELP US!”

More screams and pleads for the demon to stop came from the younger slayers clouded your mind. When you successfully decapitated the demons, to your horror, the Upper Moon has eaten them. The light inside your eyes faded.

You stood there in shock.

Your legs gave out and you fell to the ground.

The Upper Moon escaped, as you sat there, still and in shock.

“Y/N!” Giyuu ran up to your dazed form. “If you aren’t hurt, get up and focus on the battle .” You couldn’t hear him. He was cold and harsh, but deep down, you knew he was trying to help you. You couldn’t help but feel like you deserved to die for not saving your juniors. You just fucking stood there and watched all of them die.

Giyuu cursed under his breath. There was no way you were in any state to fight. He figured you had seen something traumatic when he saw the way you were looking at the pile of bloody uniforms. Witnessing the deaths of somebody you cared for was not easy, especially when you lose everyone at once. He would know. He knew you would blame yourself. He knew you’d feel guilty for not being able to save them. He saw it in your eyes. You were shutting down your emotions as you wouldn't feel the pain. You wanted to grieve for them, to scream your throat raw. But now wasn’t the time.

“Hey.” His voice softened. “Come on, get up.” He said.

You couldn't look at him. You just stared at the spot. Your kids were screaming for help. Help that you couldn’t give them. If only you had just moved faster. If only you pushed yourself harder. They were just children.

Giyuu kneeled in front of you, his steel-blue eyes boring into yours. He noticed that the shine that you always had in your eyes was gone.

“Come on. We have to get away from here.”

You were on a brink of breaking down while he lifted you up, hoisting you onto his arms. He cradled your head into his chest and rushed to the headquarters.

When you got home, immediately brought you to the Butterfly Estate to ensure you weren’t injured in any way. After getting patched up, he took you to his estate.

He set you down in his bathroom. You hugged your knees to your chest, tears threatening to fall at any moment. Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, reliving the moment. No matter what you did, you couldn’t stop seeing it and hearing the screams of terror coming from your students. They were your responsibility and you failed them.

Giyuu turned on the water, the sound of running water played as background noise to you. His eyes glanced in your direction sadly. He knew you love those kids like your own. You would talk about them so often, with a soft parental look. You went through the tough years of training them. Losing people that close to you would be difficult. He knew. He felt lost and defeated after losing Sabito. If he had stayed with him, who knows whether or not he’d still be here. He didn’t have anyone to help him grieve. But this time, he had you. And he plans to do the same for you.

As the warm water filled the tub, Giyuu’s fingers hesitated to wonder if he should even do this. Well, you were sweaty and caked with dirt and dried blood. He was sure that you wouldn't want to wake up to see the reminder of your loss. And there was no way he would leave you like this. He took off your haori, and unbuttoned your uniform, then carried you to the tub.

He knew he wasn’t the best at comforting, how was he supposed to know what to do? He didn’t have anyone to show him how. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable but still, you clearly need someone right now. He grabbed the cloth and poured a generous amount on his hand and began to gently scrub the dirt and blood of you. You closed your eyes at the gentle scrubbing.

Giyuu’s calloused hands were so gentle against your body, washing away the evidence of what happened earlier that day. His hands felt good against your skin. You just wanted to be close to him, to fall completely apart, but you didn’t want him to think that you’re weak or annoying.

He didn’t expect you to be this silent. It makes him feel uneasy.

He gently set you down on the bed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before helping you into your nightwear, then he moves to quickly take a shower himself.

Yeah, you don't really talk a lot sometimes, preferring to savor the comfortable silence with him. You never minded talking about how you felt, and he surely never minded listening. He fathered you talk to him, instead of bottling your emotions like that. After he took you out and dried you, he carried you over to the bed. Your slightly damp hair leaving spots on his haori.

It was that moment you exploded.

Your body began to shake as tears streamed down your face, soft sobs escaping your lips. The images of each student flashed so vividly in your mind and your heart started to feel heavy again. Your nails dug into your arm, creating little indents in your already scarred skin. You hissed in pain but you didn’t make any effort to move it either. Your breath uneven and you wailed loudly as you think of them. Giyuu came running to you.

“I couldn’t save them, my children-“ Your hands gripped your arm tighter. You just wish you had done something to help them. Even if you had been injured or killed, you at least would die knowing you saved your students, your children. Your breathing had become frantic and you were on the verge of tears. "They were calling out for me and I couldn't even save them!" Your eyes squeezed shut, wanting to scream. Giyuu grabbed your cheeks and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Hey, hey, hey.” his voice called out to you softly. “breathe for me, dear, breath.” He pulled your hands away from your arms and made you hold his. He was being soft and kind, which was different than he usually is. Then again, you needed him. So, you threw yourself into his arms again, hugging him tightly. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against his body.

“Nobody blames you.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “Your students, they will not die for nothing. You hear me? We’ll have to take revenge, for them, alright? We’ll make those demons pay.” He said. You nodded against his skin. He kissed your head. “That’s my dear.” He whispered. “Giyuu?” You whispered. He hummed in reply. “Can we… can we go back and give them a proper burial tomorrow morning?” You asked him. “….” He looked into your eyes, searching for signs of guilt and that you were forcing yourself to do this. “It's the least I can do.” You said, looking away. “Sure. We’ll head there first thing in the morning.” He said. “Thank you.” You whispered, holding him tighter. “You welcome.” He said.

He may be a man with a few words but you knew you can always depend on him when times get rough.

#giyuu tomioka #giyuu tomioka x gn!reader #giyuu tomioka x genderneutral reader #kny #demon slayer #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu x reader #eli writes #kny fanfics #giyuu fanfiction #kny x reader

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years

Text

(Clone Wars - Bad Batch) Crosshair x Reader: Rescue from the Citadel

(Author’s Note: This was a rad request, and I enjoyed writing it! Hope you like it!!!

OG Request: Can I get a Jedi!reader x Crosshair fic where they’re trying to rescue them from the citadel?)

You jolted out of your attempt at slumber by the roar of blaster fire outside the cell door. A loud click echoed before the door’s mechanics groaned as it slid open. Usually when your captors showed up, it didn’t quite sound like that. A feeling you hadn’t felt in a long time lifted you. “Crosshair,” you coughed. “What are you doing here? In this place?”

“I thought it was obvious?” he muttered through the modulator of his helmet “We’re here to rescue you.” You couldn’t see his expression, but there was something very solemn about his tone even in his attempt to be sarcastic. The dark visor seemed to look at you every which way as the man behind it took in your weak state.

Another familiar armor-clad figure entered the room, firing off a few shots out the door before turning around to face you. “__________.”

“Hunter,” you managed a smile. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? But seriously, what are you all doing here? The Citadel is a horrible place, and there was only-”

“Only one known successful escape,” Tech’s voice interjected as he walked in, the holo-display in his helmet scanning you as he approached. “We are well aware of the odds, __________.”

“But as always, bad odds aren’t enough to stop us,” Hunter continued. You heard a tenderness in his voice. “Especially when it comes to our favorite jedi.”

“More droids are on the way!” Wrecker growled as he walked in. His helmet looked at you. “Hey, __________!”

“Hey, Wrecker,” you gave a little wave after Crosshair used his rifle to bash the restraints from your wrists. You flexed your hands and summoned what strength you had in you to stand to your feet. It wasn’t enough. Your knees quickly buckled beneath you, earning an utterance of your name in concern from the nearest Bad Batcher. Crosshair quickly caught you, cradling your form while you blinked in surprise. “Woah. Sorry about that, Cross.”

“Quit apologizing. The only one who should be sorry are the scum running this facility.”

“We really need to get moving,” Tech urged. “My scanners indicate that Wrecker is right: there are a lot more droids coming.”

“Alright, Bad Batch, let’s get outta’ here.” Hunter nodded in your direction. “Wrecker?”

Wrecker marched over and outstretched his hands, allowing Crosshair to carefully transfer you to his arms. Your hand instinctively held onto Crosshair’s gloved one, refusing to release your hold on him.

“It’s okay, _________,” he assured you in a quieter voice- much too quiet for the stress of the situation. He leaned down to set his rifle onto the floor and take off his helmet to reveal a face softened in sympathy for your pain. “Wrecker’s going to carry you out of here, and after that, I’m never letting go of you again.”

Whether it was the words he said, the way he gazed at you so sincerely, or the way his voice lowered as he spoke; it did the trick. The wild beating of your heart began to find a steady rhythm. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours in case you weren’t completely convinced. You were so tired, but you returned the kiss with an exhale of relief, even though you hadn’t made the escape yet. You just knew it would be okay. Crosshair made you feel like it was. Something flashed in his eyes as he put his bucket back over his head. Wrecker lifted you in his arms, and that was the last thing you remembered.

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

You awoke to the sound of gentle snoring, and for the first time in a while you felt warm and comfortable. Crosshair was fast asleep on the couch while you were gently tucked in against him with his arm draped over your form. You pulled the blanket down a little because it was bordering on too warm.

“__________?” he mumbled, the snoring on pause as he stirred. “You okay?”

You yawned and snuggled closer, seeing in the darkness that he had opened his eyes to look at you with concern. “I’m better than okay. What happened?”

“Tech patched you up when we got back. You didn’t want to be alone, so I stayed with you here on the couch to watch a holovid. You fell asleep ten minutes into the vid.”

It was starting to come back to you. “Thanks, Cross.” You buried your face in his shoulder. “I didn’t want you guys to put yourselves at risk coming to get me….but...I’m still glad you came back for me.”

“Always,” he yawned, turning his head and closing his eyes again. “You’d do the same for any of us.”

He was right. If any one of them had been captured, there was no way you would have left them. The bond you’d formed with the Bad Batch was something you hadn’t expected when first being assigned to join their squad on a mission. You especially hadn’t expected to find love with the moodiest of the bunch.

“Hey, Cross-” your whisper was cut off by the sound of his gentle snoring again, and you smiled affectionately as you planted a kiss on his chin. Tomorrow would be a new day. You’d get up and grab yourself a cup of caf and watch the stars streak by in hyperspace. Crosshair would be there beside you. Hunter would emerge from his quarters to fix some breakfast. Wrecker would greet you with a big hug. Tech would be making an extra strong cup of caf since he tended to be a nightowl. It would be like any other day with the squad. After what you’d been through and what you’d seen, that was exactly what you wanted.

#bad batch #star wars the clone wars #clone wars bad batch #bad batch x reader #crosshair x reader #crosshair imagine #bad batch imagine #clone wars crosshair x reader #bad batch crosshair x reader #bad batch crosshair #star wars the bad batch #bad batch reader insert #clone wars reader insert #crosshair reader insert

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flippin-fins · 3 years

Text

Voicemail/Calls

LadyNoir July 2021 Day 11: Voicemail/Calls

Read on AO3

She hadn’t meant to be late.

Ladybug knew it was the anniversary of their partnership.

1 year of Hawkmoth, Shadowmoth, whatever he was calling himself. 1 year of akuma battles. 1 year of fighting to protect Paris.

1 year of Ladybug’s partnership with Chat Noir.

They had agreed to meet up tonight, to have a night to celebrate fate bringing them together.

And she was late.

Her parents had asked for help during the bakery’s rush, and instead of watching the time, instead of paying attention to the meetup she had been looking forward to, Marinette had let herself be caught up in it all.

Instead of laughing at memories, caught up in eachother’s presence, she had been laughing with her parents, helping customers long past the time her presence was required.

Opening her yo-yo, she checked the time again and flinched. She saw the voicemail notification, but kept running across the rooftops, hoping he was still out there.

Finally their meetup spot was in view, but the sight of it made her heart stop. As she drew closer, Ladybug could see the blown out candles and a forgotten bouquet. The abandoned roof brought her back to a different day, months ago, and she wanted to sob.

She had missed him, missed her chance to see him.

Remembering the notification, Ladybug quickly opened her yo-yo and started the voicemail, hoping she hadn’t completely ruined everything.

“Hey Bugaboo,” the recording started, and she felt her heart squeeze at the nickname. “I was hoping to talk to you in person, but I don’t think that’s happening tonight. I was going to tell you when you got here, but I couldn’t stay long tonight. I have an early morning planned for me. I guess we’ll just miss eachother. I just wanted to thank you. You’re a great partner, if you aren’t always the most punctual,” his chuckle made her want to sob, the guilt blooming in her stomach. “I know we don’t always stand on the same side for how we view each other, but I appreciate that you don’t hold it against me. This has been the happiest year of my life, thanks in no small part to you. Thank you, Ladybug, for being the best partner.”

Trying not to cry at the message, she checked how long ago the recording was sent, seeing it was only from 5 minutes ago. Ladybug hoped it was recorded as he was on this roof, that she might have time to find him.

A voice in the back of her head reminded her that she didn’t know where he’d be going, who he was, but she pushed it aside.

Swinging on her yo-yo was faster than he could run, so she might be able to catch him.

She took off, letting her heart lead her, hoping it would find him.

A few minutes later, she started feeling dejected, and headed back to the original roof. She might have missed out on their night together, but she could clean up all the things he’d set up for them.

She didn’t pay attention to her surroundings, trusting her instinct to get her to where she needed to go.

It took her a moment, after she landed, to realize she wasn’t alone.

“Chat,” she breathed, worried anything else would break the illusion.

He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was walking home, assuming you had gotten distracted by something. Imagine my surprise when someone stopped and asked me why I wasn’t swinging through rooftops together, why I was here on the ground and you were in the sky.”

Her vision blurred as she raced to him, wrapping her arms around him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. My parents needed help and I lost track of time and couldn’t leave and-” Ladybug sobbed, not knowing what else to say.

“Hey, look at me,” Chat Noir coaxed, lifting her chin.

She looked up at him. How had she gotten so lucky, being paired with such a sweet soul, someone so much more forgiving than she deserved?

“You’re here now, and I’m here too, and that’s all that matters.”

Unable to respond, she squeezed her arms tighter.

Sooner than she wanted, she remembered why he had left. Stepping back, she tilted herhead, confused. “What about you needing to leave early? The thing you needed to do?”

“Getting to see you tonight is more important than getting enough sleep before an early morning.”

“Chat, you don’t have to sacrifice sleep for me,” Ladybug sighed. “Sleep is important. It’s important to be healthy.”

Chat threw his head back to laugh. “M’lady, I think one night of reduced sleep is worth getting to spend time with you.”

Frowning, she stepped back further, looking for her bag she had brought. “Well, as long as you’re here, I might have something for you.”

“Oh no, we’re going to do this right. Close your eyes for a moment.”

Ladybug glared at him for a moment, before she complied. She tried not to think about how achingly familiar it all was.

“Alright,” a voice whispered close to her ear, making her shiver. “Open them.”

“Chat doesn’t this all feel unnecess-” she stopped as her eyes opened. The candles lit around her, illuminating the rooftop, it was breathtaking. She turned to look at him. “Chat, you shouldn’t ha-”

Her breath caught as she saw him, the sheepish grin as he held out the bouquet. “For you, M’lady,” he whispered.

His greens eyes glowed in the candlelight, and it was all she could do to not throw herself into his arms. ‘Again,’ a voice suspiciously like Tikki reminded her.

She was caught in his gaze, frozen by his smile, as that thought floated away in the wind.

Chat chuckled, pulling the flowers back to him. “I didn’t mean to overdo it,” he started. “I just wanted you to know how important you are to me, how much this past year has meant to me.”

She snapped back to reality and took a step towards him. Taking the bouquet from him, she sniffed them. “Chat, they’re lovely. Really, you didn’t need to do any of this for me, but thank you.” Ladybug smiled at him.

“I wanted to make sure you had everything you wanted. You deserve it.” He pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. It took everything in her to try not to close her eyes and lean into his hand, but it wasn’t enough as her head turned and her eyes fluttered.

He stilled, watching her, savoring the moment.

Too soon, they remembered where they were and each took a step back.

“So,” Ladybug said, as she tried to move on. “Would you like to see what I brought?”

A grin nearly split Chat’s face as his eyes widened. “You brought something for me?” He whispered, unbelieving.

“Of course, kitty. You’re one of my best friends. I had to make you something for our anniversary.” Ladybug turned, busying herself with opening her bag, but not before she saw the tears in his eyes.

Not for the first time, she wondered about his home life. Ladybug hoped he was loved, wished he had someone the way she had her parents. He deserved it.

Pulling out two packages, she stood up, trying not to laugh at his eager expression.

“Here,” she said, offering him the smaller gift. “Open this one first.”

Gently, he pulled apart the wrapped, and revealed a knit black beanie. The yarn had flecks of neon green, and she knew the ribbed brim hid a small green paw print. Chat practically cradled it in his hands.

“You made this?” Chat asked, not looking away.

“Yeah, I knit it. I was going to add cat ears but I was worried that might reveal who you were if I saw it.” She shrugged, watching as he ran his thumb over the stitches. She reached out slowly, pulling back the brim to show him the hidden detail. “This, at least, makes it special, so it should probably stay hidden.”

“I love it,” he whispered, pulling it onto his head, over his own cat ears.

She smiled at his enthusiasm. “Now this,” she said as she handed his second gift, “is more likely for me to figure out who you are, so be careful where you wear it.”

He opened this one faster, excited to see what was inside.

He pulled out a black long sleeve shirt, first looking at the back. Embroidered there was the word ‘clawsome’ in green thread.

He turned it around to reveal the front, a paw in the same green thread, the shape the same as the counter on his miraculous ring.

In the bottom, near where his hip would be, she had embroidered a small ladybug shell.

She had to leave her signature somewhere.

She reached down to get one final surprise, the real reason she had gone down to the bakery earlier. Pulling out a box, she extended it towards her partner.

“Since you’re so sweet, I brought you some treats to enjoy,” Ladybug shyly smiled as Chat beamed.

Pushing past her outstretched arm, Chat picked her up off the ground as he hugged her. “Why M’lady, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were sweet on me.”

They sat down together to enjoy the dessert she had brought. It was a comfortable silence as they were each lost in memories of their year. Too soon, Ladybug looked at the time.

“Chat, as much as I’d like to spend all night sharing these treats with you, I think it’s time for it to end.” Turning to look at him, she saw the sadness in his eyes. “We can see each other again during patrol this week. But you,” she paused, flicking his nose, “you need to go home and get some rest.”

He sighed, but they got up.

He handed her back the box and they cleaned up. Finally, he headed towards the edge of the roof, pulling out his baton, and then stopped.

“I mean it,” he said, looking at her. “Thank you. Thank you for the happiest year of my life. Thank you for being here, by my side, through all of this.”

She smiled, trying to blink away tears, feelings, as she looked at him.

“You’re welcome, Chaton. Thank you for this year. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you by my side.”

He grinned before turning and jumping off the roof, baton already extending underneath him.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous lb #LadyNoir July 2021 #Day 11: voicemail/calls #ladybug and chat noir #My fic #I'm really proud of this #it's very soft #and features my knitting knowledge

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bangtanfancamp · 3 years

Text

∴ summary: After spending a gloomy afternoon trying to get out of your own head alone , you finally seek out your boyfriend for help

∴ masterlist

∴ one shot

∴ pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

∴ word count: 2k

∴ rating: pg-13

∴ genre: soft angst, comfort, established relationship

∴ warnings: oc is struggling with something akin to depression, it’s alluded to but not explicitly stated

∴ author’s note: this is incredibly self indulgent and was written in one go. I’ll edit later. I’d rather have it here to share sooner in case anyone needs it as much as me.

─────────────────────

“Joonie, what are you doing? Are you busy?” Your voice comes out small as you peak around the corner into his office, sweater pawed knuckles sneaking around the edge of the door frame.

He doesn’t look up at first. Perhaps you really were too quiet. Or maybe he’s just that immersed in his book. It’s not a cover you’ve seen before so it very well may be the latter. You know how he is when he has a new thing to get lost in. Ever your astronaut adrift, exploring the moons just beyond whatever new world he’s found.

He looks so at home now. Cozy in his den of words and letters. Perfectly domestic amidst lofty thoughts and paragraphs. His skin is mostly bare today, his coordinated tank top and shorts exposing a golden expanse of toned arms, long legs . They’re folded up and crossed, a little boy lost in wonder as he sits on his futon.

His hair is a warm chestnut this week, fringe too long around the lashes but too short to pull back. The way it refuses to cooperate when he brushes it out of his eyes, trickling silkily, stubbornly back into place, exactly where it wants to be, makes you want to chuckle.

He still hasn’t noticed you’re there. Too far gone in whatever his newest philosophy is to notice the way you study the dip of his furrowed brow, how it juxtaposes against the relief of his shadowed dimples, smiling even as he frowns. He finds so much pleasure in being studious— just for fun. No matter how much concentration it takes. You’ve always admired that about him. Admired everything about him really.

Clearing your throat, though you hate to interrupt him, you try again.

“Joonie?”

Somehow it’s even quieter than before, and as he turns another reverent page, you know you’ll have to physically intervene to interrupt him. You sigh. You hate to break the spell. He loves days like this—with the rain trickling down the window’s glass casting shadows on his focused face— he’s so happy to read when it rains.

He leans forward then without looking up to take a sip of his Earl grey, bumbling when the steam unexpectedly fogs his glasses. He laughs at himself, folding his book so it splays across the seat to mark his place and removing his glasses. It’s the first time he’s looked up. He spots you then, his face splitting into the smoothest “there’s my girl” smile you’ve ever seen.

“Hey… how long have you been standing there?” His voices comes low, warm, soothes something in you that desperately needs rest.

“Long enough to see you blind yourself with tea, it seems.” You try to smile back, but it’s a weak, floppy thing. Your cheeks can’t seem to commit so it falls a bit too flat. His brows pinch when he sees it. Something’s amiss.

“Hey… are you okay?” His inscrutable eyes analyze you, and you let him. Too tired to resist or put up a fight.

“It’s not my day, joonie.” Your voice is pitiful, even to your own ears. You’d normally wince at sounding like this in front of anyone else. But honestly, it’s okay. It’s Namjoon you’re with. You don’t have to play games or hide things. Not here. Not with him.

“Yeah?” His eyes catch yours as his palms rub the tops of his thighs. It’s an invitation. You know the gesture by now.

“Yeah… again. There have been so many of these lately,” you say, crossing the room to him, his arms unfolding to welcome you into them. “They come too often and stay too long. They’re terrible house guests. I’m tired of them, joon. I can’t seem to get rid of them.”

You’re scooped against him now, head on the space between his neck and his chest, fingers twisted into his tank top, bum in his lap, knees tucked up til you’re as small as you can get. There’s a broad palm of his on your back, fingertips on his other hand traveling the length of your arm in tender caresses as his cheek rests atop your head.

“Maybe we should start charging them rent. I bet even they can’t afford to pay that in this economy.” He offers the idea solemnly, fully committed to carrying out the metaphor that your mental health really is just an unfortunate airbnb plagued with hideously mannered squatters.

“You know, I love that about you, Joon.”

“My inability to pay rent?”

You nuzzle a sappy no into the heat of his neck,” dummy, your very real ability to never minimize things that are hard to me.”

The dip of his chest as he exhales is oddly soothing. It makes you feel like you’re being rocked and god if you don’t need to be cradled right now. “Things have been really hard lately, haven’t they?” He wonders aloud.

“It isn’t just my perception?” You look up, eyes entirely too pitiful, too round to belong to a functioning adult. No, Namjoon’s heart goes soft as he realizes he’s looking at the eyes of a very scared four year old you. The haunted gaze of an innocent girl who never got told everything would be alright. Even without knowing any more than that, it makes him want to cry.

“No, my sweet girl, it’s not.” Closing his eyes, he presses somber lips to your forehead, scooping you close to shield you— from the world, from yourself, from all the insidious things that took root in you so long ago you’re not even sure how they got in. His wide hands grip you tighter, a feeble attempt to help hold you altogether.

It’s silent then. A few beats of quiet, only disrupted by the clumsy clatter of irreverent raindrops on glass. His caress stays steady against your soft sleeves, his languid fingers perpetually in motion as he attempts to soothe the wounds that sit just beneath your skin.

You look up at him again, unsure what you’ll find.

You almost cry when you see the gentleness in his eyes. No judgment anywhere within them. Just something kind that stretches into the lines his eyes carve as he smiles. How you itch to gently peel his horn rimmed glasses off the tip of his button nose and kiss it. Bless him.

God, you don’t know why he’s so nice to you, but you’re so glad that he is. The smile you give back to him is wobbly, trembly, poorly constructed— but so so sincere that it makes your sad eyes shine. He bumps your nose with his, burying himself against your forehead as you cocoon into him.

You want to ask him what he’s reading, listen intently to him as he tells you all about it, but you know you can’t. You can’t decipher anything today. It all feels too heavy. You can’t carry the weight of anything new with hands already full. At this point, you’ve lived in this soft hoodie of his , the one you stole after his tour two years back because it smelled like him, for the past 3 days. You don’t even have the energy to change. With that kind of retention rate, seems there’s no point in asking your brilliant professor to explain anything.

Still, it’s always so nice to hear his voice. Especially with your ear to his chest like this.

So you ask anyway.

“Will you read to me, Joonie? Life always feels better when you’re reading.” You press your face deep into the copper of his neck, an open mouthed kiss placed against his pulse.

“It’s all kind of theoretical,” he chuckles. He’s bashful. If holding you weren’t occupying his hands, you know they’d be nervously fiddling with the back of his neck. A nerdy boy with a too big brain hesitant to share his discoveries.

“Is it good though? You’ve already read Jung to me, and I stayed awake through that. I think I deserve more credit.” You poke his throat with your nose. You’re not genuinely affronted, it’s just nice to remind him you're competent too. Sometimes.

His sweet chuckle then is earthy and rich, all dark molasses. “True. You actually gave pretty good feedback for that too. Fine. Didn’t mean to underestimate you. Just… bear with me if it feels odd? I haven't read it before. I can’t vouch for it all yet.”

“Fine by me. I’m just here for the cuddles and my Kim Namjoon audiobook.”

He can feel your smile against his skin. It makes him press you just that extra little bit tighter against him, exhaling soft through his nose when he feels you return the gesture.

Scooping up his paperback, he adjusts his glasses where they’ve slipped down his nose, clearing his throat to project like the narrator he claims he’s not but loves to be. He’s quiet for a few more beats. You can hear pages rustling as you sink against his skin. You imagine he must be trying to find where he was when you interrupted, or perhaps searching for a passage that seems apropos. Which he chooses, you don’t know, but you can feel when he settles, just before his caramel voice sweetens the thin air of the room.

“It's the same with the wound in our hearts,” he begins. “ We need to give them our attention so that they can heal. Otherwise the wounds continue to cause us pain. Sometimes for a very long time. We're all going to get hurt. But here's the trick - they also serve an amazing purpose.

When our hearts are wounded that's when they open. We grow through pain. We grow through difficult situations. That's why you have to embrace each and every difficult thing in your life.”

You aren’t sure when your eyes opened, not sure when they began to glaze over or when you started to cry. But you did. And you are. The salty things dripping down against Namjoon’s silken skin. Your sweatered knuckles try to knock them away, but to no avail. Your cheeks are still a wet mess and now his collarbone is too.

“Joon, what is this? What are you reading?”

“Oh… um, it’s— terribly long title but— Into the Magic Shop: A Neurosurgeon's Quest to Discover the Mysteries of the Brain and the Secrets of the Heart. Isn't that a mouthful?” his laugh is self deprecating, small, but still the most beautiful sound.

God, you hate how sensitive and soft you are right now. You don’t want to be sitting here at 4pm in your boyfriend’s lap crying over a paragraph in a book you've never even heard of before, but here you are.

“ is that… what the whole book is about ?”

“You know, I don’t know. I haven’t read it all yet. Jackson recommended it, I’m just now getting to it. Why - do you not like it? I can put this down. Read you something else if this is too heavy. You always like the poetry. I can grab that one anthology you like.”

You can feel as he starts to shuffle beneath you, eager to track down new reading material for you, afraid he’s scared you off, when the fluttering weight of your palm tethers him to his spot.

“No, stay. Keep reading. I want to hear the rest.”

You can practically hear him smile. Relieved. Can feel his dimples manifest without even trying. He kisses your hair, tilts your chin up to kiss you too. The complexity of bergamot and black tea making his supple lips even more bewitching than normal. The window in the corner is cracked open, the humidity it leaks in making your skin sticky as you lean against him.

He’s lovely like this. The rain soaked air mixing with his natural scent, a broad hand on your chin, warm thumb beneath your lip as you mold pliant into his kiss. He ends it with a peck to your lips, a tap of his nose to your nose, before hoisting you so close against him you just may fuse together.

And he reads. He reads until he’s exhausted. Til the rain has stopped, and you’ve drifted to rest pressed against the skin of his chest.

He folds the book shut once your breathing has stilled, his thumb marking the page as he tips you both to lay down sideways. As he extends his pinprick tingling legs for the first time in ages, you hoist yourself around him in your sleep like a koala, and he chuckles. That’s usually his move.

He kisses your hair then, traipsing fingers tenderly through the escaped bits of it that brush across your cheeks. He wonders if you know how madly in love with you he is. How often he’s wondered what he’d do without you. Today, like most days lately, your light was dim, but still kelvins brighter than anyone else’s.

He sends a silent thank you to whatever deity arranged things in such a way that he can hold you to his chest like this as the daylight saving’s darkness floods his studio office. You seemed so sad today, but he knows it won’t last forever. It’ll pass. It always does. He’ll just hold you until it does. And then some.

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