#Side Effects Of Plastic Water Bottles

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sparkling juice

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad

“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.

“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.

“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.

“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.

“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.

you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”

“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.

rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.

“wanna try some juice with me baby?”

“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”

you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”

“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”

“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.

“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”

rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.

“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.

“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”

“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”

“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”

“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”

“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”

“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.

“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”

“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”

“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.

“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.

“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.” 

you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.

“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.

“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”

“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”

“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.

“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”

“mhm.”

“and we have been dating for over a year now.”

“yes.”

“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.

“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.

“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.

“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.

“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”

“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.

rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.

“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.

“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.

“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..

“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”

“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.” 

“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.

“okay.” you say.

rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.

“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.

he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.

you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.

rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.

“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”

“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.

“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.

“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.

“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.

“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”

“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.

he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.

“i think im close.” you say.

“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.

your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.

you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.

rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.

“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.

“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.

-- six months later --

“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen. 

“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.

you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.

“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.

rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

So Blue | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Who can you turn to in a dire situation if not your best friend? That's what Jisung thought when he texted you. Heart racing with fear that your best friend was hurt, you rush to his side. What you find however will change everything...

•Pairings: non idol Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, friends to lovers, strong language, mention of sexual enhancement drug, light anxiety, creampie, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating

an: photos of Han used in title graphic have been edited for entertainment purposes by me and are not real. no harm is intended in the edited pictures. also please do not take any enhancement meds without talking to a doctor for your own safety. i don't condone the behavior that's written.

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

The house is quiet, way too quiet when you step inside. Knowing Chan, Changbin, and Jisung for years, you know it's never this quiet when they're around and it's unsettling... Shutting the door behind you and glancing around, you see nothing out of the ordinary. So far everything looks exactly the way you left it last night after the four of you hung out. Just as you're about to walk into the kitchen, you hear Jisung start calling your name from his bedroom. Your heart races with panic and you rush towards his room, dropping your bag on the floor along the way. All kinds of awful scenarios play in your mind and when you burst into his room you half expect to find him bloody or with a broken bone, not sitting on the edge of his bed in a white sleeveless shirt and black shorts, with his legs spread sporting a massive hard-on.

"Wait, why me?" you blurt out, when Jisung explains that he needs your help. Your cheeks heat up as you steal a quick glance at the unmistakable bulge in his shorts. There's a mix of embarrassment and unexpected arousal that floods through you, leaving you flustered.

You're shocked, jaw practically hitting the floor. Who knew he was so… big? After all these years of friendship, you never thought of him in any other way except as your weird and talented friend. But now, seeing him in this state… It's making you feel things you'd rather deny and your stomach is flipping like crazy. Every now and then you notice that his cock twitches underneath his shorts as if it's alive, pulsating and drawing your eyes down to it again despite how hard you try not to stare. Kind of hard when something that size is practically waving “Hello” at you.

"I- I can't tell the guys this. They'd clown me for life," Jisung stammers, fidgeting as he looks at you from across his messy room. Plastic water bottles scattered, tissues crumpled on the floor—yeah, it's pretty clear what he's been up to before you got here.

"Well, what do you expect me to do, Han Jisung?" you retort, emphasizing his full name for dramatic effect.

"I don't know," he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been hours. I can't even leave my room. It hurts, y/n."

When he grabs at the stiffness beneath his cotton shorts and lets out a low groan, you stop breathing. Why does this have to turn me on? He's my best friend! You mentally scold yourself, tearing your gaze away. Shit, it's hot in here. Your body feels too hot all over. It's like standing too close to a blazing fire, the heat making you squirm uncomfortably.

"Ji... we need to get you to the hospital," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You've seen those commercials."

"Please, no! I can't let anyone see me. Did you forget, your bestie Annie, who also happens to be Chan's girl, works there. If she sees me, it's game over. She'll tell him." Jisung pleads, hands clasped together, desperation evident in his wide brown eyes. Those puppy dog eyes of his always get to you.

"Dude, what were you even thinking, taking Love?" you groan, plopping down on the cozy carpet with a heavy thud, completely confused by your friend's decision to take an enhancement pill.

You remember seeing those late-night infomercials a couple of years back, pushing that blue heart-shaped pill. They call it 'Love' because of the 'L0-V3' stamped on it. Basically it's like Viagra, but it's mixed with a very low dose of THC. They advertise that it does more than just keep things up. 'Guaranteed to give you the ultimate pleasure,' they say.

Jisung shrugs, watching you with a miserable expression. “I was curious if it would make masturbating feel different, better maybe? I mean it did the first 6 times. Wah! The orgasms were fucking mind blowing y/n.” He smiles and chuckles.

"Ji, oh my god! Ugh, have mercy on my ears bro." Both of you burst into laughter, but then you notice Ji wincing in pain. Your mood quickly shifts from playful to genuine concern.

"It hurts that much?" you ask, feeling awful that he's so uncomfortable.

He nods weakly, “It's not even just my dick but my balls feel so fuckin’ heavy. Like they're literally going to rip from my body.”

You cringe inwardly, fingers pressing into your ears as he launches into yet another one of his oversharing moments. His lack of filter has always been a trademark of his, but that's just Jisung being Jisung. After being friends since grade five, it's like he's incapable of holding back anything with you. You remember the day he lost his virginity, he texted you literally right after. His excitement was evident even through the phone. As a joke you got him a cake in the shape of the letter ‘V’. That was in highschool and his habit of sharing way too much is still going strong in your twenties. Only difference is this time his oversharing is doing things to you.

The dampness between your thighs, well, that's just gotta be a coincidence, right? I mean, it's not like the sight of your long time buddy sporting a hard-on is doing anything for you. It's more than likely just the frustration of being on a three-year dry spell. Yeah, that's gotta be it. It's definitely because you haven't been fucked in a long time and not Jisung himself. You give your head a shake, dropping your hands from your ears with a wry smirk.

"Ji, we've really gotta do something… before it gets worse. You don't want it to fall off." You tell him jokingly, trying to keep the mood light but you're feeling worried all over again.

"Yeah, yeah I know. You're right, but what are we supposed to do? I've tried everything, even beatin' it 11 times, and still no luck.” He says, sounding so casual about his masturbatory activities.

You let out an embarrassed groan and fall back dramatically onto the floor, while Jisung lets out a pitiful whine. You grab your phone and start searching for home remedies but after an hour of scrolling, you're still at square one. Not a single remedy seems feasible. Leeches? Nah, no way. As if either of you would go near those slimy things. And some tea from a self-proclaimed witch sounds sketchy as hell. Plus, she's halfway across the globe. It would take forever to get here, if it even would. Jisung hasn't had any luck either. Every twenty minutes You hear him curse under his breath and run his hands through his hair. You two are running out of options, and as time passes, you start to feel more and more useless.

"Y/n," Jisung whispers your name after another forty minutes of searching, his voice hesitant.

You look up at him, doe eyed and innocently chewing your lip. “Hm? What's up, Hannie? Did you find something?” With a strained grunt he nods in response looking at you intensely.

“Fuck, shit.” He mutters under his breath, almost like he's talking to himself. “My dick... It won't go down without…”

“Ji what is it? You're freaking me out. Without what?” You scramble up onto your knees and crawl over to the bed, inching closer to him, eyes full of concern.

Jisung looks like he's in absolute agony watching you crawl over to him. His emotions are all over the place, you can practically feel the tension radiating off of him when you reach the bed. His eyes are like flames, burning far too hot when he looks at you. You can see the struggle written all over his face like he's fighting with himself.

“Y/n, you're making it harder,” Jisung breathes out, his voice husky and balling his hands into fists as he tries to keep his composure.

You sit beside him scrunching up your face and like the good friend that you are, you place a comforting hand on his knee. Jisung's breath catches in his throat and a flush creeps up his neck when you touch him making him suddenly feel lightheaded.

"What do you mean 'making it harder'? I'm here trying to help you, remember?” You say, your voice soft and tinged with hurt. The pain in your voice and eyes catches him off guard. He's stammering, suddenly aware of how his words might've come out wrong.

He didn't mean for it to sound bad. You're the last person he'd ever want to hurt. But today, everything you do just seems to set him off. He's been trying so damn hard to push his feelings aside. But it's like having you in his room, despite you being here a million times before, it's messing with his head. He can't think straight. You've always been stunning to him, and yeah, maybe he's entertained some inappropriate thoughts about you in the past, but that was only once. Maybe it's the pill messing with his head but you’re making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you.

“N- no I mean, I’m grateful you're here, really love. You're the only one who can help me. I just mean… you're making it harder. Ya know?” He stammers, licking his lips nervously. He nods down once looking down at his lap before back at you and bites his lip feeling embarrassed. Your eyes flick down to his shorts and go wide when you understand.

"What? How?!" You glance down at your outfit. His black hoodie with the paint splatters that you borrowed a few days ago, paired with simple black leggings. Nothing revealing, yet you're somehow making his cock even harder than it already was.

"You're over there moaning and then you start crawling towards me on all fours. I mean, come on, how could anyone not get turned on by that? Shit!" He chuckles nervously, feeling his heart racing. He hides his face in his hands, laughing, and murmurs something when you giggle.

"You're such a perv, Ji." You tease, still chuckling as you playfully pry his hands away from his face. "Now try that again. I'm not fluent in mumbles, sorry.”

“I said… I just read that it won't go down without intercourse. Bro, I don't exactly have a girlfriend. I'm so fucked.” He sighs, sounding completely defeated.

Your smile falters when you see just how miserable he looks. It's been a while since he was last in a relationship, that was true. Probably a little longer than you, about four years now. His last one ended when she demanded he choose between you and her. She couldn't stand the fact that you would spend the night in the spare bedroom where Jisung, Chan, and Changbin recorded their music, dreaming of making it big someday. Jisung ended things with her on the spot; he wouldn't be with someone who couldn't accept his friends. Apparently she had issues with Minho too, which was probably what really did it for him. But somehow, you can't shake off the feeling that their breakup was somehow your fault, that his single status is on your shoulders.

“I'm sorry Hannie. We'll um, we can figure something out.” You reassure him, innocently rubbing his knee.

Without thinking much, your fingers gently glide over his skin comfortingly, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. He's so stressed. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. You don't know what to do right now other than offer him comfort. There are no answers or solutions that you can think of to give him. All you can do is show him that you're in it together as always. You start rambling on about how you two are both probably freaking out for no reason and that everything will be fine soon. But as your fingers continue to move in innocent slow circles, Jisung starts shifting. It goes unnoticeable by you so you keep talking. It's all nonsense really, delving into something completely random and off topic in an attempt to distract him from the issue at hand, only Jisung isn't processing a single word you've said. He's far too focused on your hand.

The moment your hand landed on his knee he prayed you wouldn't move it, he prayed you would. He tried so hard to focus on anything other than the heat and softness of your hand on his bare skin. It's too much though and his mind starts to quickly wander. He freezes and tries to focus on your voice but it's impossible. Jisung can't stop the thoughts that his mind creates or the images that begin to come into focus. He's imagining your hand sliding up his thigh until it's slipping under his shorts. He can almost feel it happening, his sudden daydream becoming so vivid. In his mind's eye he can see you take him into your hands, feel you stroking him until he's a mess and spilling all over your fingers. He's fighting his demons and you're oblivious to it all. You just continue to talk all while the sensation of your hand is driving him up the wall. He can feel the sudden familiar tightening in his balls and he panics. He can't get control of his body, not with the drug still in his system.

His hand quickly comes down covering yours, stopping the gentle caress to his knee. His intense brown eyes look darker when they stare into yours. His lips slightly part and his breath starts coming out in uneven quiet bursts. The warmth of his hand seems to grow hotter, becoming slightly sweaty against yours and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You feel the subtle shift in his body beneath your touch and his legs tense up as he lets out a soft, involuntary grunt. Jisung's gaze burns into yours with an undeniable intensity that makes air feel thick and your cunt slick.

Is he about to?

You glance down at his shorts and his cock pulsates underneath. You stop breathing when realization hits you. He’s going to cum, right here, right now, all while holding your hand and looking at you. He's leaking so much precum it's noticeable even in the black fabric. A wicked scene flashes through your mind, of you sinking to your knees to taste him, taking his fully clothed cock into your mouth.

"Ah, shit! Mm!" Jisung's moans slip out and his breathing escalates as he starts to tremble all over. "Y/n," he pants out. Your name rolling off his tongue, making your whole body flush as his orgasm quickly builds, like you're the cause of it. "I... oh, shit. I'm... sorry, fuck. I can't... Help it. I'm cumming. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!”

His grip on your hand tightens and he takes a deep breath before letting out a long low moan. You're left speechless, eyes fixed on Jisung's face as he cums in his pants. His hips move instinctively upwards, as if he's fucking some unseen entity and you can't help but find it incredibly hot. It's possibly the sexiest thing you've ever witnessed and now you're more turned on than you were to before.

His orgasm hits him hard, and you can feel his muscles tighten when he lets go. Warmth spreads through your body and it's impossible not to miss the way his release seeps through his dark shorts. The fabric quickly becomes wetter as his seed flows out in thick, white strings. His cock, still concealed and hard beneath the dampness, slows its wild twitching and stills.

“God, I'm sorry y/n. I don't know what came over me. Your hand... It felt incredible and it just happened. It was like the pill ramped up the feeling.” He apologizes, letting go of your hand. His heavy breathing slows and cheeks flush with a mixture of arousal and shame.

“It's ok Ji, I understand. You don't have to apologize. I wasn't thinking. I'll uh, get you a change of shorts.” You start to get up and head towards his dresser but he catches your wrist. He looks up at you with those brown sugar boba eyes of his making you shift.

“Tell me what you're thinking, y/n. Please? I'm going crazy thinking I'm weirding you out. Be honest with me please, lovely. Please?” He pleads with you.

You sigh and sit back down beside him and almost moan when the seam of your leggings rub against you. Seeing Jisung cum right in front of you, has your body feeling ultra sensitive. You're so on edge as if you've taken an enhancement pill yourself.

"I'm not weirded out, trust me," You confess, your voice low and filled with something more that you try to hide from him and yourself.

"Then how do you feel? You've gone quiet on me." Jisung probes, daring you to reveal your feelings.

“I feel fine Ji.” You say and look at his closet door. It's wide open and his clothes are all over the place inside like a tornado went through it.

“Bullshit y/n. I can tell when you're lying. You never look at me when you lie.”

Sighing you look him in the eyes and your mouth suddenly goes dry. He's not going to let this go until you fess up to him. He'll drill you with questions until you crack and that will probably make things more awkward than it already is. You don't really have a choice but to be transparent with him like you normally are.

“I'm,” You start, only for your words to trail off into a mumble.

“What was it you said earlier y/n? I'm not fluent in mumble?" He smirks, feeling so damn proud of himself and you roll your eyes.

“Ugh, fine. Fine, okay. I'm… horny. There, satisfied?” You admit red in the face. You look away fiddling with the sleeve of Jisung's hoodie.

"What else?" His voice, steady and resolute.

Your head spins back to him, caught off guard. "What else?" you echo loudly in shock. "Isn't all that enough?" He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he knows something you don't.

"Nah, not when I can feel you holding back," Jisung teases, leaning closer. "We're always so open with each other, but right now, there's something you're not saying."

“I…” You let out a defeated and frustrated sigh. “You turned me on.” You whisper. “The sight of you cumming. The look on your face, that fucking moan, Jisung. The way your cock bobbed from inside your shorts when you… damn it. It fucking made me wet. I've been wet since I walked in here!” You're practically yelling now, breathing heavily after releasing all your pent up feelings and he just smiles and chuckles.

“That wasn't so hard was it?

“Yes,” You say with a huff. “Yes, that actually was pretty damn hard.” You go to cover your face but he stops you.

“Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. I think that's a normal reaction. Sorta like watching porn.” He replies, chuckling.

“I suppose… but it doesn't really help your situation though.” You say feeling mortified.

The room goes quiet for a minute, the pair of you at a loss for words until Jisung breaks the silence.

“Maybe it can?”

You give him a look, raising an eyebrow in his direction. His cheeks flush and he raises his hands in a surrender gesture, palms facing outward, “Hear me out. It doesn't have to be weird. We'd just be helping each other out. You wouldn't be horny anymore and I wouldn't be hard and in pain. You're my only hope.”

“Are you suggesting that you and I… fuck?” You ask gesturing between you both. He groans in half pain, half pleasure at your words and your face heats again matching the blush on his cheeks.

“Please? Please let me fuck you y/n. Shit I know we're friends, it won't mean anything. You'd be literally saving my life. It's torture being like this. Every twitch, every movement I make… it fucking hurts like hell.” He begs, sounding desperate.

Jisung's question hangs in the air and you find yourself unable to respond. Silence ticks on for only a few seconds but to Jisung it feels like an hour. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration and huffs.

"Fine, then," he grumbles, breaking the silence again. "Can you at least help me get into your car so we can go to the hospital then?" His voice is rough, but there's an underlying vulnerability to it.

Still you stay quiet, his pleas echoing loudly in your mind. He's begging for your help and you can't speak. You're torn between wanting to be there for him and the fear of the aftermath. It's never a good idea to sleep with a friend. God, how many times have there been movies portraying that, only for it to go wrong? Too many, that's the answer. You're already feeling things that you wish you weren't. This could ruin your friendship with Jisung. This isn't just a peck on the lips. You'll be far closer and far more intimate than you two have ever been. So your hesitation is valid but Jisung is losing his mind and panicking more than you are right now.

“What the fuck y/n? Are you really ignoring me right now? Look, I'm sorry I asked. Just forget it and hel-”

"Promise me," You cut him off, "Promise me that we'll pretend like it never happened."

"Absolutely, yes. I promise!" he agrees eagerly, his face lighting up as he reaches for the drawer in his bedside dresser.

Curious, you watch as he rummages through the drawer's content. "What are you up to now?" you ask, sounding amused despite the fact that the little voice in your head is screaming at you.

"Looking for a condom," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he looks over at you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Dude, even if you find one, it's probably expired or dried up. When was the last time you got some ass?"

"Oh yeah right, good point—wait! It hasn't been that long!" He whines.

Laughing, you playfully cover your mouth. "Uh huh, sure. Besides, you gave your last one to Chan a while ago, remember?"

“Shit, you're right. Now what?” He pouts looking disappointed.

“Just raw I guess. Don't really have a choice. We both know we're clean and I'm on the pill.” You shrug nonchalantly like the idea is whatever to you but your heart is beating a thousand beats per second and you're internally freaking out.

Jisung swallows hard, looking nervous in your direction. “You uh, you sure?”

“Yeah let's just do it before Bin and Chan get back. Shit would be really awkward if they caught us.” Your voice betrays your false confidence, shaking as nerves wrack your body.

“Yeah, good point” He replies with a nod, suddenly looking serious.

This is serious to him. This isn't exactly how he envisioned his weekend starting. Jisung's heart pounds hard, his palms sweating as he stares at you. Amidst the anxiety he's feeling about this, he's oddly happy. He feels lucky knowing you’re here willing to cross boundaries for him. Not everyone would do something like this for a friend, but you're different. You always have his back no matter what crazy mess Jisung finds himself in.

Despite the fucked-upness of it all, Jisung can't deny the excited flutter in his stomach. The thought of having sex with a friend is enough to give anyone major anxiety but he's surprised how well you both are dealing with it. Still, fear sits at the back of his mind. What if this changes everything? What if it ruins your friendship? This is a big deal. He's seen it play out in movies and dramas all the time and not once had it turned out well. He doesn't have a lot of options though. You're quite literally his only hope like he told you.

Jisung gets up carefully, giving you full access to his bed and watches you as you strip down to nothing. Embarrassment fills you as his mouth hangs open, in complete fascination and awe. He thinks you're unstoppable, the way you're confidently undressing like that. He doesn't know you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. His eyes find your breast and he mentally marvels over how hard your nipples are. He suddenly wants nothing more than to slip the peaks into his mouth and bite down on them until they're red and you're squirming under him. Your cunt calls to him like a siren, just as pretty and just as wet. His fingers itch to trace the contours of your body, to feel your skin beneath his touch. Every inch of you seems to call out to him.

Jisung shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he glances towards the door. "Um, so about the lights... Do you have a preference?”

"You decide, Ji.” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, leaning back into his sheets on your forearms.

With a nod, he walks over to the door and locks it before reaching to switch off the light, enveloping the room in darkness. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The sun had long since disappeared, hours slipping away unnoticed in trying to find a way to help your friend. A second later, the white walls covered in music memorabilia and anime posters, glow crimson from the light of the LED Akatsuki cloud lamp you gifted him for Christmas.

“There we go.” He says lightly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your heart.

Jisung's trying his best to put you at ease, and you're grateful for it, even if it's not working. You're lying there, heart pounding like a drum, with the soft red glow of his bedroom casting shadows all around. Your breath hitches, nerves tingling as you steal a glance at him by the bedside. Your fingers toy with the sheets' edge and butterflies dance wildly in your stomach. This is risky, but you're only doing it to help him out, right? Nothing more. Yet, there's something brewing beneath the surface, something you're both feeling but haven't quite put into words or even thoughts. Not right now at least.

Jisung casually strips off his tank and tosses it onto his computer chair, standing over you. Even though you've seen him shirtless a million times, it feels different this time. Probably because the setting is more intimate. You can't help but admire the way his muscles are defined, how they seem to mold perfectly to his body. Every contour, every line, down to his slender waist, captivates you. Then, as he lowers his shorts, you find yourself holding your breath, unable to look away. He's got to be a good seven inches you think. Slightly curving upwards, angry and red with the veins ridiculously prominent. You don't even stop yourself from fantasizing about how he'd feel on your tongue. The temptation to reach out and touch him is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, afraid of what it might mean.

“Do you think you can take all of me y/n?” He asks curiously and you look up at him.

His features soften in the dim light. He looks so vulnerable, so unlike the confident guy you're used to seeing. It tugs at your heart, stirring up a mix of emotions you can't quite begin to untangle.

His question, It's not a cocky one. In fact he sounds a little bit self conscious, worried even. Like he's afraid of hurting you or causing you discomfort. As much as you try to not think of him as your best friend right now as a means of psyching yourself out, you can't. He's your sweet Hannie, he's the talented genius J.One, a rap name he created when he was 16. He's your Sungie, who sat with you when you were the new kid in middle school. He needs you… needs your help. What kind of friend would turn away from a friend in need?

"I can handle it, don't worry about me, Ji. Let's just get you back to normal, okay?" You reach out your hand towards him with a subtle tremble exposing your nervousness.

"Yeah, okay, lovely. Just... let me know if you want to stop, okay? Promise?” Jisung exhales, his breath jittery with nerves waiting for your response.

“I promise. Now just relax and fuck me.” You whisper.

“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

He moves closer to you, placing his hand in yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you. The worries and hesitations you had vanish, replaced by a strong need to take care of this for him, to ease his pain. You feel the heat emanating from his body as he positions himself between your legs, gazing down at you with wide eyes.

He chews on his bottom lip and wraps his hand around the base of his cock with a hiss. He's still sensitive from the pain and his recent orgasm but he lines himself up with the entrance to your core, noticing how your arousal glistens in the red lights.

“Do you normally get this wet y/n?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious tilting his head to one side.

You hide your face with your hands, inhaling deeply. It's like you're a virgin all over again and this is your first time. You're nervous out of your mind and he's asking you a question like that. He's just curious, sure, but... he's Jisung... Your pulse pounds in your ears, and you slowly lower your hands. His eyes meet yours, and you can see everything you're feeling reflected in them.

You swallow hard, “Honestly, no. I've never been this wet, Jisung. Not even for myself.” You tell him, keeping eye contact so he knows you aren't lying.

“Fuck, that's hot.” He whispers. His cock twitches and rubs along your folds. “Ah, shit.” He winces and moans at the contact, feeling his cock stiffen even more beyond his belief.

Your body jerks at the unexpected touch, causing you to inhale sharply. His fingers lightly graze the curve of your waist, as if he's afraid you might vanish at any moment. His eyes, intense and penetrating, hold yours captive and heat pools low in your belly. Jisung's touch sends a shiver all over your body when his fingertips slowly begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Suddenly it's hard to deny just how bad you want him.

“Han Jisung if you don't stop stalling and just fuck me, I'm getting dressed and calling Chan.” Your breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. That brush against you was too much and not enough. You want him. God, you want him so bad it's almost painful.

“Okay, okay sorry. I'm just nervous. Fuck, I feel like a virgin all over again.” He says voicing your earlier thoughts out loud, making you both laugh loudly.

It feels almost normal. Like you're not about to let sleep with your long time friend. Like he's just above you now because you were wrestling for the remote. But after the laughter subsides, Jisung gathers up his courage and pushes the tip of his cock inside you without any restrictions. You're so wet that he slides right in. You both let out a moan, the sound echoing off the walls of his room, enveloping you in an intimate bubble. In the dim light, the boundary between friendship and something more blurs, and you find yourself swept away by the growing need. Jisung can feel his heart beating harder in his chest as he loses himself to the sweet feeling of you around the tip of him. A growing need intensifies within him with every passing second. He's got just the head in and he wants to slam into and cum right now.

"More. Keep going," you whisper, your voice quiet and dripping with lust. He bites down hard and complies slightly hesitating. Slowly he pushes further inside of you.

Your fingers tremble as they brush against his arms as he steadily inch by inch presses forward getting deeper, drawing moans out of you that could be heard from Pluto. It takes all of Jisung's focus to slide his entire length into you. He didn't want to cum just from sticking the tip in. But with each thrust into your eager pussy, brings him closer to bursting inside you.

"Fuck.” He breathes out as he fully sinks into you, his hand laying over your stomach gently. With a soft sigh, he leans in, resting his other hand beside your head. You feel incredible and he's reminded of the only moment he fantasized about you. A distant memory flooding back, something he tried to push away ages ago.

You tagged along with him, Chan, and Binnie for a vacation to the beach one scorching summer. He couldn't help but notice the way you looked in that red bikini with the guitar pick pattern. The way it barely covered your tits and ass. The sight made him feel insane. He was thinking things about you that he hadn't ever before. He used the fact that he couldn't swim just to sit in the sand, secretly enjoying the sight of you splashing around in the water. Every splash, every droplet clinging to your skin, it was like a fantasy playing out before his eyes. He imagined plowing into you from behind in the shower, your breast pressed against the shower tiles as you took all of him. Every detail was vivid and intense in his mind. That night, while you peacefully slept beside him in the hotel room you shared, he couldn't shake the images from his mind. Unable to sleep due to the ache in his cock, he pumped himself into his fist while thoughts of you consumed his mind. Guilt filled him but he pushed it aside, chalking it up to normal hormonal desires. It had been years since he even had those thoughts, until now.

Now he's buried deep inside you, all because of a dumb decision to try those enhancement pills. All because he wanted a mind-blowing, toe curling, orgasm. But deep down, he's kinda grateful for messing up. With you beneath him, he can fuck you instead of his hand. It's been too long since he's fucked anyone. He wants to savor this moment, take his time feeling your walls flutter around him since this won't happen again. As the urge to cum fades, he eases out of you, leaving just the head of his cock inside and begins moving again, slowly, teasingly, watching your reaction with his mouth slightly agape. Slowly, he rocks in and out, feeling your tightness gripping him in a way he's never experienced before. It’s better than anything he's felt with his exes. He's in awe of how amazing you make him feel. With a forceful thrust, he drives himself deeper into you, pausing when you cry out in pleasure.

"Damn it, y/n, you feel amazing. Fuck, so good.” he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Can I... Can I go faster? Please, tell me I can fuck you faster, baby. Let me make you feel even better." He begs, grunting softly and shifting his hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, forcing a needy whimper from you.

You bite your lip, a rush of pleasure flooding your body as you nod in response, too overwhelmed to speak. Your breath hitches, coming in rapid gasps, and your legs tremble around him.

“Thank you, fuck.” He withdraws with a sharp pull, then eases back in hard, making you cry out. “Stop me if I'm too rough, baby. You gotta tell me sweetie. Can you do that?”

You nod, but that's not quite what he wants. Jisung wants to hear you, no, needs to hear you. His hand moves, brushing against your skin until he finds your nipple, teasingly taking it between his fingers. Your breath catches as he pinches it gently and rolls it slowly between his thumb and index finger. He feels your body react, your walls tightening around him when you whimper softly.

"Oh!" You gasp, unable to control that blissful feeling of pleasure that runs through you. He does it again, a little harder this time. The corner of his mouth lifts into a cocky grin when you arch your back.

“Yes Ji! Fuck, I'll tell you.” Your eyes close and you grip the blankets on the bed in tight hands.

“Thank you y/n. God you're the fucking, mm! You're the best. Knew only you could help me. I knew you'd take care of me.” Jisung whispers, gripping the sheets by your head tight, his fingers curling around the fabric and sliding himself back into you. The bed creaks beneath you, echoing his movements as he fucks you harder. “Knew you'd make me feel good,” He murmurs, his voice thick with sex. "Tell me, y/n, does that feel good? Does my y/n feel good because of me? Tell me baby.”

Does he always talk like this with everyone he's been with before? You wonder and you realize he's way more experienced than you imagined. The thought makes you jealous but the feeling doesn't last. Each push of his cock inside of you pushes that green eyed demon out of your mind.

His voice, smooth like honey, drips with sweetness, coating you with each word he utters. The way he speaks to you only makes you wetter and you're craving him more. He's not holding back anymore, lost in the moment where all that matters is pleasure. Yours, his… you both need more. He's not waiting for a response; he knows you're speechless, your words stuck in your throat, your silence speaking volumes. With one hand supporting himself, he cups your breast, teasing and massaging the flesh, making you squirm under him before taking your nipple into his mouth. A low, guttural moan escapes him, reverberating through you body. You moan passionately, feeling the heat of his tongue against your skin. When he gently bites the hard peaks of your nipple your body arches into him and your left hand cradles his head.

Jisung inhales deeply, and your scent envelops him, drawing him in with its intoxicating allure. "Damn, you smell so good," Jisung murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips and his heart literally skips a beat in his chest.

He swore nothing would change, but his heart rebels against that weak promise. Every day, he'll crave you more. Every glance, every touch will only intensify the want for you. The need to have you will only grow stronger. Your hands are all over him now, leaving invisible imprints that seem to penetrate straight to his heart. He finds himself addicted to your nails grazing his skin, the way your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him in closer to you with each tug.

Feeling his body pressing against yours, every movement sends waves of pleasure through you. Your hips respond to him, moving in sync and the sensation of his cock against your sweet spot makes you gasp softly. With each grind, the warmth grows blazing inside you. Jisung pauses, his lips leaving your nipple, and gazes down at you, his tousled hair framing his face in a way that makes him look irresistible in this moment. There's a silent shift between you that makes it harder to breathe.

"Close, aren't you, y/n?" he pants, a teasing grin playing on his lips. Something inside you explodes and a surge of electricity courses through you. It's not just the impending climax that has your insides uncoiling; but from that look he gives you. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. You feel like you're free falling through the clouds.

"Almost, Ji. So close," You breathe out softly.

"Yeah, baby, me too," He murmurs, his words laced with urgency. “I need you to come first. I'm gonna pull out." You shake your head and cling to him tighter, not wanting him to stop.

"Cum inside me, Sungie. Just keep going. Harder, Ji. Right there. Fuck!" Your voice grows louder with each word.

"Are you sure, y/n?" he asks, and when you nod, he grins at you. "Gonna give you all of me, baby. Fill you up real good. Gonna make a mess." He trails off with a soft curse. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he adds, his voice becoming more raw, his desire evident in every breath. "You feel so good, y/n. So fucking good."

Jisung's hips buck wildly, thrusting faster and you scream his name, pleading with him to not stop, to not hold back, to fill you up. He's trembling, his breath coming out in ragged grunts as he pounds his cock into you, driving deeper with every thrust. Your body tenses up, and you manage to gasp out that you're about to cum just before it hits you like a tidal wave. And when it hits, fuck, it's like fireworks go off behind your eyelids. The most explosive sensation you've ever experienced.

“Gah, y/n! keep cumming, just like that. Y/n, you're gonna make me cum. So tight. Yeah, keep squeezing me with your pussy. I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming baby." He moans, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel it deep when Jisung cums. It jets out in spurts forcefully, filling you and the sensation rips another unexpected orgasm from you. His thrusts slows to a gentle pace, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until your muscles relax around him. With a shudder, he finally stills, collapsing onto you panting, his weight supported by his forearms. Cupping your face in his hand, he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and longing in his eyes that makes you feel indescribable.

Your soft moans and the way you're clinging on to him, gives him a different sort of pleasure. Just knowing he's the one making you feel good, is a heady feeling, one that makes him want to hold onto this moment longer. But it's done and over now and he feels disappointed that such an amazing feeling, like being nestled inside of you, won't happen again.

Jisung's heart is pounding in his chest as he moves his face closer to you. His impulses taking over, "Can I kiss you?" he breathes out, voice shaky looking down at you.

You give a hesitant nod, feeling suddenly shy despite what just happened between you two, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. It's gentle, soft, sweeter than you expected. He doesn't use his tongue, unsure if you'd even want him to but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss you. The way you looked up at him, so pretty with those heavy lids and his cum dripping out of you… he just had to taste your lips, just once.

When he goes to pull away, you grab onto him, pulling him back and deepening the kiss. Your lips part, inviting him to explore you with his tongue, which he eagerly does. Your muscles tighten, and you realize his cock, which had been softening earlier, is now growing harder inside you. You gasp, intending to let him know it worked but before you can, he starts moving again and your gasp turns into moaning. There's no need for you two to keep having sex now that his erection can go away but you don't stop him. This time it's not just about relieving his pain or a means to an end, it's about something more. You both feel it, the change that he promised wouldn't happen, only you don't seem to care. No, you encourage Jisung to keep moving, to go deeper. You part your legs for him even more, letting him have all of you and surrender to the feelings pulsing through your body. It's all so new, these intense emotions you've developed for him.

Jisung's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust unhurried. His cock slips out leisurely only to ease back in, a rhythm that makes you ache for more. More speed, more friction, more everything. You want to beg him to move faster, but the intensity of his stare leaves you feeling tongue-tied. In this moment, you're the epitome of beauty to him. Your unfocused gaze, your neediness, it's all so intoxicating, urging Jisung to continue his languid movements. He watches as your eyes struggle to focus, blinking several times before locking onto him once more and he loves it. It's as if each blink only deepens the desire he has for you.

He’s amazed that you're letting him continue to fuck you, even though there's no real reason to keep going. But damn, your body has him hooked already. You're spoiling him for any other girl he might end up with, unless... No, he won't let himself go there. He can't think of you as his, not after the promise he made. Still, he craves more of you in every possible way. Jisung's body trembles as he enters you, feeling your muscles tighten around him, and it brings a grin to his face knowing he can coax another orgasm out of you. He wonders how many can say they were able to make you cum multiple times. Did they take care of you like him? He thinks cockily. With a grunt that mingles with your soft moans, he thrusts harder, pushing deeper into you, feeling the tightness around his cock. It's a rhythm of in and out, urging his cock deeper, with nowhere to go.

Did any of your past hookups take their time like this? Fucking you nice and slow, or were they all just in it for a quick nut? Not Jisung, though. He could never, would never just fuck you for his own satisfaction. Your pleasure matters to him. It's what does it for him. He gets off on seeing you lose control because of him, on making you feel good. He doesn't even need to be buried deep inside your cunt to cum. He'd cum in his pants again fingering you or while you rode his face. Just the thought of you cumming on his face is enough to make him explode right now. The sounds you make, your touch, they're his undoing. That's why he came so hard earlier when all you did was caress his knee. He knows that now.

He's finding it impossible to hold back anymore, despite wanting you to cum first. He can't though, not when you gently place your hand on his cheek. That simple touch pushes him over the edge, and he pours himself into you with a raw moan, unable to control himself any longer. His legs shake, his toes curl, and he experiences an intense orgasm, far beyond what he had hoped the pill would give him. But it's not the pill—it's you. He knows it's you.

Watching Jisung cum inside you for the second time, you feel yourself reaching your own orgasm. With soft gasps, your cunt shudders around him. The look on Jisung's face when he cums is easily becoming addicting to you now. You could probably cum just by that look alone. It's like he's lost in the moment, completely taken over by pleasure. His face scrunches up, brows knitting together, round cheeks puffing out with each deep exhale.

You both lie there catching your breaths, quiet and completely still. His cock's still buried inside you, keeping you close. Your eyes lock, taking in every little detail of each other's faces while you both catch your breath. He could stay like this forever, your pussy snug around his cock, and he would've. Only if the sudden sound of the front door swinging open and Changbin shouting about pizza didn't burst that private bubble. It startles you both. So much so that Jisung jerks out of you with a loud pop and scrambling to his feet, making you squeal in surprise.

"Shit, do you think they heard that, Ji?" you whisper hastily pulling his sheets over your body. He shoots you a glance from across the room, a grin spreading across his face. He loves that post sex afterglow radiating from you. You've never looked hotter than you do right now, all sprawled out and naked in his bed.

“Nah, I think we're okay for now. They might just think we're taking a nap like we usually do after binge watching something.” He tells you. “We should probably get dressed in case though.” You nod and when you go to get out of the bed, he stops you. “Wait, lay back. It's my mess, let me clean it up. It's the least I can do for you.”

"Alright..." you murmur, settling back onto the bed with the blanket draped over your chest, your legs parting invitingly for Jisung. Your eyes drift to the ceiling, as you await his touch, but he hesitates. "Ji, what's—"

Your words catch in your throat as you feel the brush of his hair against your thighs and his mouth on you. "Oh, God, Ji. Fuck, that's not what I had in mind," You gasp out just as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

He glances up at you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, his lips glistening with a mixture of your shared juices. "Do you want me to stop, baby? I've got the towel right here," he offers, his tone teasing.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, pleasure pooling low in your belly. "No, don't stop," you urge softly, your voice laced with need. "Keep going. Please.”

You collapse onto the bed, feeling his head sink between your thighs. His lips and teeth graze your inner thigh, and you bite the sheets that are tightly balled up in your hands, trying to stifle any noises that might alert Chan and Changbin. When Jisung plunges his hot tongue inside of you, eating his cum and yours from your cunt like it's a five star gourmet meal, you almost let out the most pornographic sounding moan from the twirling motion of his tongue. You grab a pillow with quick hands covering your mouth so that it muffles your moans and cries.

He makes quick work in giving you another orgasm with that wicked tongue of his. You would've gladly returned the favor too if he didn't already cum in the towel that was supposed to be used for you. His mouth stayed locked on your clit while he moaned and pumped his cock into the towel. The vibration of his lips making you forget all about that thing you keep stashed in your bedside drawer at home. Yeah, Jisung eating your pussy like he was starving definitely didn't need to happen either but you're not complaining.

After getting dressed and making sure Chan and Changbin wouldn't notice anything odd, you and Jisung joined the duo and settled in for pizza, beer, and a movie. The TV casts a soft glow as some suspenseful action movie plays, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in a different kind of fantasy world. It's like your minds are synced, both drifting away from the movie. You and Jisung steal glances at each other in the dark living room, only to quickly look away.

Countless times he's caught you looking back in the direction of his room with a blush on your cheeks. He's hard just knowing that you're thinking about what happened and he wonders if you can still feel him like he can feel you. He just wants to say fuck the movie, to grab you by your wrist and drag you back to his room and fuck you again. He was actually worried that you would go through with the promise of pretending like sleeping together didn't happen but sometimes, in this case anyway, promises can be broken.

[cosmal]

hi <333 perhaps a cute scenario where the reader suddenly gets a nose bleed from stress, maybe remus or sirius helps and takes care of the reader (unrequited love, mutual pining ??) i often get nose bleeds

nosebleeds

summary — sirius worries for you when you get a stress nosebleed.

content — sirius black x reader, nosebleeds!, mentions of blood

Most of the time they come on before you can stop them. You’re never the first to notice them when you’re not alone.

You’re too busy talking to Sirius in a quiet corner of Lily’s living room to notice it.

“She owns four of them, Sirius,” you say, halfway through a giggle. It’s nice because you’ve had an awful week and he has this special way of unwinding you. “Four! They’re so cool.”

He’s reaching into his pocket for a cloth and you don’t take notice. Too busy thinking about how your next-door neighbour has four chickens in her backyard. But then he’s raising his hands to your face and you stop gushing.

“Hey, slow down for a sec, sweetheart,” he says softly. He holds the tissue to your nose and he’s got his other hand at the base of your head. You startle, but not like you should because it’s only him.

“Is my nose bleeding?” you ask. He presses firmer and you wrinkle your face up.

“Yeah,” he says softly. Though he looks like he’s about to panic. “Sorry, does it hurt?”

“No,” you say honestly. Your voice a little stuffed up where he has the cloth.

“Can you hold it for me?” he asks and lightens the pressure up a bit for you to know you can hold it.

You blink, nodding robotically. Scrambling to relieve him where he’s got his hands. “Sorry,” you say flustered because he’s got his hands all over you and it’s really hard to focus when he’s also looking at you like that.

You replace his with your own and he smiles sympathetically when blood starts to dribble over your lips and down your chin. You start to heat up with embarrassment, holding a second hand under your face to stop it from dripping on your clothes.

“Wait there,” he says quickly, “I’ll go find something. Can you tip your head back?”

“Does that work?”

“I’m not sure. Might save that pretty top, though.”

“Right,” you say breathlessly. He’s unbelievable.

You stand to the side trying to not make a mess when Sirius returns after a moment. He’s got a wet flannel and some more tissues. There’s a plastic water bottle tucked under his arm.

“Give me those,” he says. He’s being completely serious.

“My bloody tissues?” you ask through a laugh. He smiles and motions for you to hand them over. “Sirius you don’t have to.”

“It’s okay, I’ve dealt with worse,” he says kindly.

You know what he’s implying. He looks after Regulus all the time and Remus like he’s family. This is nothing comparable.

You peel the cotton from your face and are happy when you notice it’s almost stopped completely. They never hurt but there’s always a pressure behind your eyes that’s mostly manageable.

“Here,” he says using a hand to hold your face. You startle again though not as bad as before. Sirius is always touching you but never near your face.

He pushes his thumb into your cheek to tilt your head closer to the window. He starts to dab at your lip where blood's been smeared and you try to stay still. You blink quickly because you can’t help it.

“Sirius, I know how to clean myself,” you say kindly and try not to look him in the eye. Where his tongue is peeking out from between his perfect teeth. “I get nosebleeds all the time.”

“I know,” he smiles quickly and turns to look at you. “But I want to.”

Your skin goes numb where he’s got his hands. You’d assume the dizziness was from your tiring week if Sirius didn’t normally have this effect on you.

He finishes up as best as he can manage and hands you the cloth in case you need it. Handing you the bottle afterwards.

“Drink,” he says softly. You know you shouldn’t argue, you’d expect him to pour the water in your mouth himself if you denied him.

“You’re bossy,” you laugh before taking a sip. The cool water soothes your chest where it slowly makes its way down. You close your eyes for a moment.

“I know you’re stressed," Sirius says with the barest hint of a frown. You wish he wouldn't.

"God, am I that harsh?" you ask and can't help the pathetic laugh you give him.

"I know you get nosebleeds when you're stressed, Y/N," he tells you and it honestly surprises you.

You never told him that. "Oh."

You hold the flannel back to your face like you need to, not because you'd rather busy yourself with something else than feel yourself set alight under Sirius's horribly attentive gaze.

Sirius wipes a mark from your cheek that you missed with his thumb and it strikes your skin like a match against its box. "I wish you'd tell me when you're stressed out, sweetheart."

"I'm okay," you sniffle, letting your hand fall to your side. Your limbs feel heavy, your head even worse. You liked it better before your nose had played up and you were talking about chickens.

"You're nose is bleeding."

"I'm okay, really."

"Y/N..."

"Okay," you giggle, "Sorry. Next time I'm stressed I'll...I'll call you." Any excuse, really.

"Good," he says a little too pleased. "Good, because then I'll have an excuse to come see you."

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Augusnippets Day 26: Warm Blanket

cw: past noncon drugging and captivity, themes of substance dependency/addiction

previous // next

for the @augusnippets challenge // word count: 699

=~=~=

He spends an eternity on the verge of waking up.

Nothing feels real; he's simply adrift, passing between pain and nothingness in a senseless pattern. Everything hurts less, but it still hurts; a dull ache that covers him, rising and falling in intensity. The acrid sting of wounds being cleaned. The claws of the creature, dull teeth gnawing at the inside of his chest.

And sometimes, when it all becomes too much and the spy is left sobbing and shivering and begging for it to stop, there's relief. A true quiet that hardly lasts a moment as the familiar lull of the drug sweeps his veins.

He needs it as much as he needs to never touch it again. The pain is receding, he's getting stronger, yet his skin still crawls without it, a hollow within him growing and growing.

He's almost himself the next time he opens his eyes.

Back at their makeshift base, in a small room with an overhead fan spinning and spinning.

His head hurts. Even glancing around makes him dizzy, but he needs to know where he is, he needs a grasp on his surroundings, on reality.

There's another bed beside him.

Benji’s form is still, a good portion of him covered in bandages and fading bruises, and for a moment Sahota is afraid. But then the other man blinks awake, perhaps feeling eyes on him, and sits bolt upright.

“Sahota!” he says, a hint of a smile on his face. He's quick to quiet himself. “Hey! Hey, how do you feel? It's been. Um, it's almost been a week. We've been worried.”

He hops up, and Sahota notices the distinct lack of tubes or needles or monitoring. Was he just… staying with him?

“I've been better,” he murmurs, his voice grating on its way out of his throat.

“Shit, let me get you some water.” Benji hurries to the cupboard, and Sahota's skin buzzes when he produces a plastic bottle.

Shut up.

The creature is in his throat, trying to claw its way up, to drag itself forward and reach for the water bottle and beg for the emptiness, for the relief from the full body aches and exhaustion. Sahota chokes it down.

His hands shake as he reaches for the bottle, no matter how hard he tries to steady them. 

Shut up.

Before he can even touch it, Sahota forces his hands to his sides, squeezing the blanket with all the force he can muster.

He doesn't need it anymore. There's no need to escape like that. He knows this is something to be expected, something out of his control, but he can't help the anger at himself.

He's supposed to be better than this.

Benji’s brow furrows, mouth tipping down as he clutches the bottle with both hands. “Hey… you okay?”

Sahota forces a nod. “Just… cold.” He's certainly shivering.

Don't think about it, don't think about it. It's just an effect of the shit you just got pulled out of, don't think about it.

“Oh! Here.” The other man pulls the blanket from his own bed, draping it over his shuddering form. Sahota nods again at the contact, closing his eyes so he doesn't see the bottle.

You're just sick. It'll pass.

Benji’s hand finds his own, fingers gingerly wrapping around it. He doesn't pull away.

“I'm glad you're safe.” A gentle squeeze. “If you want to be alone right now, I can go.”

He wants to say no. He so, so badly wants to say no. He's been alone for so long already, in the cell and on the mission and well before either.

But the creature is burning inside him like a bellyful of coals, raking up desperation with its claws, shame rolling off its skin.

He can't be with anyone like this. He needs the little monster gone, expelled, and then maybe. Maybe he can manage to look any of them in the eye.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I–I think that's a good idea.”

(Is it?)

Benji nods, giving him a gentle smile. He leaves the bottle of water on the nightstand beside Sahota's bed.

He doesn't even reach for it until he's sure Benji is long gone.

[cherry-jamm]

Butcher x reader? Smut or not depending on your comfort level.

Due to all the side effects of the temp V and butcher being sick all the time, he’s been spending a lot of time at the hospital and there’s one nurse he interacts with all the time and develops a crush. The nurse (reader) likes him too. Eventually butcher sees her at a bar after hours one thing leads to another and they go home together.

Add on depending on how long you want it. Or maybe two stories?

You could add that Homelanders been watching butcher madly obsessed with him and he spies on him and the nurse hooking up and kidnaps her to use against him.

Homelander could use compound V on the reader making her a supe which he knows butcher hates.

Another idea I had was solider boy wanting the reader and being a moncho asshole and forcing himself on her and butcher stops him and is protective.

OR reader wants both solider boy and butcher at once and can’t choose so maybe she gets both (wink wink)

Sorry it’s a lot. Couldn’t write my own stores. Decided to pass along ideas.

Gross Misconduct

・❥・ Maybe your patient is hot, but that’s no excuse to partake in misconduct!

・❥・word count: 1.7k

・❥・warnings: hospitals, mentions of cancer, general banter, fade to black smut

・❥・Anon i ❤️ u and your ideas I plan on writing multiple of them so stay tuned, also my poor heart only wrote the sweet parts of your request I couldn't take the angst 😭

also I haven’t been in a hospital since I was five, can you tell?

There's a particular smell in a hospital. Disinfectant, stale air, and a powder smell that wouldn't go away. You held a small plastic cup in your hands, filled with a few pills in various sizes and colors. Your shoes clicked against the pale blue linoleum tiles that reflected the fluorescent lights above. You approached room 234, cautiously knocking on the door before entering. 

William Butcher had become what those in the psychiatric ward referred to as a revolving door patient. He would come into the hospital for no more than a few days at a time with a mysterious illness, then against his doctor's orders leave the hospital, only to reappear almost a week later with the same ailments. He had become a regular patient for you, he always requested your presence whenever a different nurse came to check on him. You'd be lying if you said that it didn't flatter you. He was a handsome man, tall strong, and rugged, and his accent was more attractive than you'd ever admit out loud.

"William." You greeted with a small nod and an easy smile. "Can't believe I'm stuck treating you again. What is it this time?" You teased.

"Same as last time. And I told you, call me Billy." He groaned. He sat on the bench instead of the bed, his head rested against the wall.

"I figured. You know the doctors all want you to stay here a little longer, maybe they could find the source of this. I know you don't want to hear this, but it could be cancer, it's always best to diagnose early."

"It ain't cancer." Billy sighed in that husky voice of his. "I just need a few days then I'll be back on my feet." He ran his hand through his hair. "And how've you been sweetheart?"

"I've been fine." You hummed. "You ready to take some pills? I assume you've been taking these everyday while you've been out of here?" You raise an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, yeah, I've been taking my pills." He waves his hand dismissively. You pull a water bottle out of a small fridge in his room. You set the cup and the bottle down beside him. 

"The doctors are suggesting a CT scan, or an MRI, something that might find cancer. That's the most viable option at the moment. I'm not supposed to be telling you this, really, a doctor was gonna come in later today and tell you, but I know you and I wasn't sure if you were even gonna stick around until then." You looked at him with furrowed brows, he was one of the most frustrating patients you had ever dealt with. He wasn't violent, or particularly perverted, but he was stubborn. Of course, many of your patients were stubborn, but he was different. Something about him made you want the best for him, not just in the way your field of work required, there was something personal about it. 

"You want me to get that scan?" He asked gruffly. Looking up at you standing over him. You felt your face heat up at his unrelenting stare. 

"Well, what I want doesn't matter. All I can say is that, these doctors know what they're doing, and it would do you some good to listen to them." You said matter-of-factly. He nodded. Silence fell over the room, but you could tell he didn't want you to leave.

"You- uh- you seeing anyone?" He questioned after a prolonged period of quiet, he was uncharacteristically nervous. His eyes were suddenly transfixed on the floor tiles. 

You were trained to say that it was none of his concern, but instead, your lips moved to say, "No, I'm not." The edges of your mouth quirked up into a small smile. 

"Yeah?" You found yourself swooning at his voice. 

"Yeah." You grabbed a blood pressure cuff from the wall and approached him to start taking his vitals. You raised your eyebrows and he took off his thick coat. You eyed his large biceps subtly. You wrapped the cuff around his arm and inflated the cuff. 

"How's about you let me take you on a date after this?" He smirked, looking up at you.

"You know I can't do that Mr. Butcher." You tutted. "Your blood pressure is better than it was last time you were in here." A smile forced its way on your face. "So you can listen to what the doctors say." He rolled his eyes.

"Why not? You don't like what you see?" He insisted. 

"As your nurse that would be gross misconduct. Highly against the code of ethics in this here hospital.”

"So if I wasn't your patient you'd go out with me?"

Just as you suspected Billy checked himself out of the hospital mere hours after you gave him his pills and took his vitals. God, he would be the death of you. You had just gotten home, you kicked off your shoes at the door and sunk into the couch. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you sighed before picking it up. It was your friend texting you and a few others in a group chat. 

who's gonna come with me to the bar tn 😝

Only a few minutes passed before your other friends started responding. 

I'm free tn

If we're going to Blue's I'm down

Count me innnnnnn

You rubbed your eyes. Did you really want to go out tonight? Maybe a night of fun will be good for you. 

What time? 

You asked. Pretty soon everything was arranged, all you had to do now was hopefully take a nap before you go and make sure you looked presentable. Time ticked by and you made yourself look presentable before grabbing your keys and driving to the bar.

The sun was low in the sky and cast golden shadows over the street. There was a crisp chill in the air. You pushed the door open and immediately spotted one of your friends sitting at the bar. After a while everyone arrived and you found yourselves a small table in the front corner of the bar. One right next to the window.

Time had slipped away from you as you drank and chatted with everyone until your eyes caught on a figure out of the window. Billy Butcher was walking down the street and right into the bar. There was a small bell above the door that jingled when he came in. The sound was so small that it would've been drowned out by the sounds of the bar if you hadn't have been intently listening for it. He walked in and scanned the entire place. His brown eyes looked into yours. There was a single second where the only people in the bar were you and Billy Butcher. He smirked wryly. You felt your face heat. Then as if he had no cares in the entire world he walked to the bar and ordered himself a drink. 

Your conversation became mindless chatter as you watched him. You burned holes into his back and practically studied the nape of his neck.

"What's gotten into you?" One of your friends poked your shoulder. 

"Okay, don't look now, but the man sitting at the bar is the patient I've told you guys about." Of course, all your friends turned their heads around to look for him. "He's the tall one, with the jacket." You whispered. One of your friends hummed. 

"Seems like a hunk." They giggled. "Why don't you go talk to him, buy him a drink or something?" 

"Oh no I couldn't, he's my patient!" You insisted. 

"But isn't he checked out of the hospital? That means you wouldn't be breaking any rules by flirting." 

"Until he checks back in, in a week." You scoff. 

"I say, go for it! Didn't you say he asked you out earlier?" Another friend chimed in. Your entire body felt hot with embarrassment. 

"Which one of you is gonna pick me up tomorrow morning?" You joked and downed the rest of your drink. Your friends cheered as you stood up and approached Billy.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t anyone tell you to stay home to and rest to recover?” You tease playfully. He scoffs before chuckling like he’d been expecting you to approach him. 

“A man can’t have some fun anymore?” His brown eyes graze over you in the dim light. “Whiskey’s the best medicine.” He swirls the brown liquid in his glass. You hum. 

“Well, I’d have to disagree.” You watch him take a sip of his drink. There was a beat of silence.

“You look good out of those scrubs.” He nodded. You felt yourself smile.

“You think so?” 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” He nodded. “So what’re you doing here?”

“I can’t have some fun anymore?” You shot his words back at him with a grin. He calls the bartender over. 

“Drink of choice?” He leans closer to ask. “It’s on me.” He winks cheekily. You order a drink and tap your fingers against the bar while waiting. “I presume you haven’t started seeing anyone in the few hours since we talked last.” He started. 

“Why does it matter?” You teased. The bartender set a drink down in front of you and you brought it to your lips to hide your smile. 

“Well, have you?” 

“I have not.” You replied simply. He smiled. 

“You got anyone else in here with you tonight?” He leaned in close. You felt your brain slip out of your ears at his accented voice and warm breath. You looked over at your friends, who had gone back to chatting, while one or two of them kept an eye on you. 

“No one that would mind if I left.” You said breathlessly. 

“Then, may I have the honor of taking you home?” You looked up at him, at a sudden loss for words. 

“You know I can’t be your nurse if we do this?” You checked in.

“Well, nobody has to know…” You shot him a look. “Yes, fine, I know you can’t be my nurse.” You smiled and nodded. 

“Lead the way Prince Charming.” 

His gruff laugh filled the space between you. He took your hand and started guiding you away from the bar and towards the door. You cast a final thumbs up towards your friends before the cold air hit your face. The street was now completely dark, only lit up by the streetlights. 

“You are going to love this.” He laughed, as he guided you to his car.

[miscellaneoussmp]

I miss my beloved cubito, aka happy pills Pac, so here's a fic! It's been a year, come back to me!!!!!!!!! (cw/tw: character death implied/mentioned, medical terminology, mentioned drug abuse).

This isn't the first time Pac has dug a grave. It won't be the last. At least it's not raining. At least he's wearing his own clothes. At least the blood in the room is his. At least there aren't bodies from him to cry over. Maybe that's worse?

His heart rate is rapid. Pac feels like he can feel his heart touch his ribs. Tachycardia caused by the pills? Maybe the withdrawals? His breathing is shallow. It's a cycle. The quicker his heart beat, the less time his lungs have to switch out carbon dioxide for oxygen. Pac bets if checked his blood pressure, it would be way higher than 120/80. That's why he feels like he's going to die. Or maybe it's the pills? Who could say? Maybe Pac needs to go to the doctor?

What is he doing? He looks down at the crudely dug hole. What is doing in the lab? What was he doing before this? One of the lab tables looks messier than usual, even in the dim room. Right. His notes. The cure. A possible cure. Pac isn't that good at chemistry or medicine. He isn't even really a scientist. He just pretends to know what he's doing. It worked well enough raising himself and Mike. There's a reason why Mike is (was?) better than him in every way conceivable way. It's because he stopped listening to Pac before it was too late. He wonders how long it'll take before everyone else stops listening. He hopes it's soon. There's crumbled up paper in his hands. Right, notes. Focus.

It's definitely worse not having a body to bury. There's nothing to cry over. An empty grave feels worse. Pac isn't even able to leave the lab to go look for the bodies of his best friend, his child, and one of his newest friends. Why is he in the lab? An antidote. Right.

Tachycardia has many reasons to happen. The heart doesn't need the brain to tell it to continue beating. It has its own nervous system, basically. The heart will keep the blood moving for as long as it can. Shortness of breath often goes hand in hand with tachycardia. The lungs try to keep up with the heart to perform gas exchange. There's many causes for high blood pressure, too. Ranging from genetics to diet to medication side effects. What is he doing again? There's blisters forming where his grip was tightest on the shovel. Pac is in the lab. Notes. An antidote. A cure. Right.

There's a black liquid in one of the bottles. It's bad lab practice, but he reaches for it, to drink. Pac stops. He can't do this. He can't. He wants the artificial euphoria. Pac can't face reality. He can't. What is reality if not something Pac can manipulate to his benefit? His reality. He drains the black liquid down the sink, washing it away with cool water. For a brief second, he thinks about trying to consume the small remainder of the antidote. That thought is chased away with the taste of plastic and artificial sweetners in little white capsules.

[copperbadge]

[ID: Three images; top left, a spray bottle of clear liquid, labeled PRO SPRAY, sits on a gleaming cutting board; top right, Dearborn the tortie glares at the camera from the work desk's copilot basket. Bottom, a white rug with blue patterning in my hallway, surrounded at the edges by dark dustbunny-looking lumps.]

NaClYoHo Day Two! Pardon my grossness.

Yesterday afternoon I did the first of what is usually several trips to the hardware store; I bought spackle, gnat traps, and a PROFESSIONAL spray bottle. PRO SPRAY. It has an adjustable nozzle and measurement marks on the side, so I can dilute the vinegar pretty accurately. Last night I filled it up with vinegar water and laminated the kitchen, and this morning found and killed several weevils it drove out of hiding. It's sitting on the wooden cutting board because I had taken ALL the cleaning supplies out from under the sink and was reminded I should oil my cutting board with some Walrus Oil.

Dearborn is very skeptical about this morning's activity: carpet cleaning.

I threw on an episode of A Date With Dateline, popped in my earbuds, took down my Tineco One X vac and vacuumed for the first time in Slightly Too Long. I didn't get all the way through the house because I was running it on high which drains the battery, but usually vacuuming is a multi-day process. For what I paid for the Tineco I could have a high-end corded vac that does a better job, but I know that I won't use corded vacs because I hate the cord, so I'm okay vacuuming more often with the cordless. In any case, I hit the rugs because the next step was to break out the Hoover Powerdash Pet carpet cleaner and figure out how to use it.

I know I'm dropping a lot of brand names but just because I usually get asked; I don't make money from affiliate links or anything.

Anyway, the Powerdash came to me secondhand from friends who were moving, and for a long time it sat in my hallway in its plastic wrapping because I was intimidated by it. We never had one growing up and I've never really seen one in use. But it turned out that it was super easy to use, you just add water and cleaner to the tank and go; you go over the rug once with the trigger down, to spread water/cleaner, then a second time without the trigger to rinse/dry. I only hit about half of the rugs in my home, just to see how it went, and then stopped because they all seemed to remain very wet after cleaning. (They've since pretty much dried and I'm assured by the internet that's normal.)

The white patterned carpet above is the cats' favorite place to roll around and shed on, and as you can see, those dark dustbunny looking things around the carpet? That's cat hair and other dirt the cleaner pulled up. Gross but visibly effective.

I got a slightly late start so I had myself on a hard time limit; I started at 7, finished up at 8, and still had half an hour left on A Date With Dateline (they sometimes run a bit long). The cleaning solution definitely adds a certain chemical smell to the air, so I'm running the HVAC's fan and I've added "scented candle or incense" to the shopping list. Which I wanted to do anyway; some people always have such nice smelling houses and scent never seems to stick around in mine, but I've never gone hardcore on Making This Place Smell Nice. (Yes, I promise to be careful about what scents I use, I know diffused scents can harm cats.)

Disposable nitrile glove count: Still just 1!

Hardware store trips: 1.....so far.

[shiroriia]

Theme 2: Framed

News of the Midnight Moonlight, a sapphire jewel owned by the infamous Suzuki Jirokichi, was stolen. Rumors had it that it was stolen by Kaitou KID. Almost everyone in Beika knows about the news, except Kaito himself. Yet the said phantom thief had long retired and is currently in the Kudo Manor sitting beside his detective while trying to show him a trick.

"Shin-chan~ guess which hand has the coconut water!" He grinned and held up two hands. The said detective gave him a look before burying his head back to the case he had been focusing on. "Left."

"Ah, still can't trick your eyes, can it?" Kaito shook his head and placed the plastic bottle of coconut water next to Shinichi on his desk. "I didn't get you coffee this time, since it's been 3 days before you get a wink of sleep. You need sleep in order to be able to function well, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah." Shinichi responded while keeping his eyes on the papers.

Kaito shook his head at Shinichi before sitting down on the couch on the other side of the room. It was quite boring for him, so he decided to pick up the newspaper that was sitting next to him in hopes to find something interesting to read. That was when he saw that the Midnight Moonlight Suzuki was stolen. The shocking news almost made him fall off of the couch.

"Kaito." Shinichi said annoyed as he rubbed his temple. "Haven't I told you to be quiet when I'm trying to work?"

"But Shin-chan!" Kaito whined as he pointed at the headlines. "Haven't you seen what the reporters wrote? The Midnight Moonlight is stolen and they're framing me to be the thief."

Apparently Kaito was not the only one who didn't know about the news. "What?" Shinichi said in disbelief as he came over to take a good look at the newspaper, just to make sure that it was not Kaito's shenanigan that was just trying to take his attention off of work. When he made sure that he didn't misread things, he frowned. "This is ridiculous. Kaitou KID hasn't been spotted for years. Besides, you've already found the Pandora and destroyed it, so there's no reason for you to continue to use the alias Kaitou KID. Who would do such a thing?"

Kaito tapped his chin as he thought. "I do remember there is someone....."

Shinichi was silent as his blue orbs focused on Kaito.

"There was a mysterious person that I ran into when I was one of my heists." Kaito explained as he stared back at Shinichi. "He was wearing black and the color theme was very similar to my Kaitou KID getup."

Shinichi nodded. "And then what happened?"

Kaito shrugged. "I was ambushed so I didn't have time to question the guy. But it's strange, since then, I never saw him again."

Shinichi pinched his chin as he thought. Kaito took this moment to admire the side face of his detective. After a while, Shinichi spoke.

"Do you have time tonight? We're going to pay Suzuki Jirokichi a visit. Oh, and don't forget to dress as Kaitou KID. I think I have an idea that can lure the real thief out."

⋘══════∗ {•『 🎩⚽ 』•} ∗══════ ⋙

"Ugh, Shin-chan should've told me to wear a jacket." Kaito, now Kaitou KID, complained as he gave another loud sneeze. He was waiting for the signal of Shinichi before making an appearance. For the best effect, Shinichi had told him to wait outside.

"It's to convince the thief that Kaitou KID will not be disguising among the police force." was his words. But Kaito couldn't help but wonder if Shinichi was trying to freeze him on purpose. "Baka Meitantei, doesn't he know that it's bad for a magician to have cold hands?"

Just as he continued to mumble to himself, the lights to the building inside was turned off. Kaito knew that was the signal that they had talked about earlier, so he sneakily opened the window and agily avoided the infrared lights that was set up in the room. Once the lights came on again, Kaito was already perched up high looking at the people below. He swiftly scanned around and saw Shinichi in the back signaling him. He nodded and spoke.

"I'm sure none of you have expected the heist note of the Moonlight Magician himself, have you? " Kaito, no, Kaitou KID smirked as he glanced at the police forces that Jirokichi gathered in the room. "However, that's not why I've made an appearance this time."

"What are you doing!? Get him!" Jirokichi yelled loudly at one of the police as his dog barked at KID. Sonoko fangirled as usual. Kaito had noticed that Shinichi's expression was enough to kill someone when Sonoko screamed. He couldn't help but chuckle at Shinichi's display of jealousy. But he didn't have long to admire his detective. After all, they have business to attend to.

"Before you gentleman attempt to arrest me, allow me to ask you this. When have I stolen and not return what I took?" He asked as he dodged when a police lodged at him. The room was silent at his words. Yeah, even though Kaitou KID enjoyed toying around with them, this was not something he would do. Just as the police looked at each other in confusion, the room was once again dark.

This time, Kaito was confused. This was not part of the plan. What was Shinichi trying to do?

He silently made his way to Shinichi as he quickly changed into a different outfit. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't know. I know I expected the thief to show his face, but I didn't think he would be showing up this quickly..... "

Kaito can tell that even Shinichi was caught off guard. He placed a hand on Shinichi's shoulder as a way to calm him down. But that's when a flash of black rushed past by him.

"Wait-! I think I saw something!" He shout-whispered. But that's when the lighting came back. On the floor where Kaitou KID was, the Midnight Moonlight lay peacefully with a note attached on it.

Jirokichi immediately ordered someone to get the jewel for him to check if it's the real Midnight Moonlight. While their attentions were on the jewel, Kaito took the note that was on the floor and read it. There was random letters on it. Since it's too loud and noisy in their surroundings, he decided to take it back with him to the Kudo Manor to study it privately. Maybe it's some kind of code that he had to figure out how to crack.

Unfortunately, the next day, Kaito caught a cold from standing outside for too long so for the week, he couldn't bother Shinichi and the detective finally had an entire week of peace and quiet to himself.

(The code is in the comment if anyone is interested to solve it :3)

[sca-nerd]

renn fair tips!!!

yes bring water, but also figure out how you can bring that water, some places only let you bring in sealed, never opened, bottles (cause alcohol is a large part of event revenue)

CASH, most sellers have got a square card reader or paypal or something, but those work at the whims of cell service, and cell service tends to suck in parks

also with cash depending on the seller they might just wave the tax. things are priced to even dollars most of the time

the crafts people (leather, blacksmiths, silversmiths, glassblowers) are where you really want to "focus" your money, not because there's anything wrong with the clothing stalls, it's just that it's harder to get those items online, and you're helping a small business

also some of the clothing sellers just buy in bulk from a place like amazon and clip off the tag, "wevez" is where i get my skirts, and the price markup can be anywhere from 2 to 3 times what you'd pay if you bought from the seller directly

the end of the last day of the weekend you can get food for cheaper, so if you're staying until close and don't want to find a fast food joint, get a turkey leg

bed bugs, (SPRAYS DO NOT WORK ON THESE MOTHER FUCKERS) the horrible truth of the matter is, it is a valid concern, moreso since COVID. so if you do buy anything, im talking books, tunics, hair wraps, corsets, trousers, a kilt. anything a bed bug could be hanging out in, you put that in a seperate plastic bag, seal it, and stick it in the freezer when you get home. then you beat out the thing a few hours later.

this doesn't kill them, but it does make them hibernate, which means you can shake them out then kill them or if youre feeling vindictive, pop them in the oven, a minimum of 120F for 90 mins gets all bugs and possible eggs. you could also put the things in your dryer on high for the longest setting, but i personally prefer the oven (and not just because i don't have a drier)

business cards! i personally collect business cards for convience and maybe one day i'll go back to pursuing graphic design, but having a designated pocket for business cards or pamphlets cause you may be grabbing a lot of them

the vibes: Its a bunch of weird nerds getting dressed up to play pretend and get drunk in the park. It can get weird, and it can get raunchy (not horny, just crass) i have witnessed several different parents huff off with their kid cause a performer made a low brow joke that was obvious enough that the kid knew smth dirty was said, MOST of the people are chill with boundries, but some never got out of that phase of being a dick cause they think it's funny

speaking of phases, renn faires are still the only place i have ever been where you've got the flagrantly queer and menanist douchebags bumping shoulders. like side eyes are made im sure, but you can walk down a path, past somebody in the loudest, most obviously gay garb you have seen outside of a drag show, then a few feet behind them is somebody else with a trump denim vest

also, back to the rauchy bit, there will likely be people there who are cool, but use outdated/offensive lingo. like I got called a fairy by a guy waiting in line for a kebob, he did try and backpedel, but im fine with being called that and his girlfriend (who obviously dragged him there) was dressed up like a fairy, so jokes were had and expensive kebab's purchased (idk what they used to season those things but they were so fkin good for just being some meat on a stick)

if you do a craft (knitting/crochet) check if you can bring your supplies in because some places don't let guest bring in knitting needles (they are often 11 in long pointy sticks so fair enough)

ASK QUESTIONS not just at the small semi educational areas they sometimes have, but also the people selling things, i love hearing people talk about their crafts (also renn faire drama is real and it is wild, and it's much more exciting because it's effect on you is almost null)

WATER WATER WATER

I KNOW I SAID THIS AT THE TOP BUT IM SAYING IT AGAIN

DRINK SOME FUCKING WATER

some faires have pub crawls and i have witnessed many a stumbling drunk get escorted out by EMTs cause he didn't pace himself and drank on an empty stomach

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Side Effects II | Bang Chan

• Synopsis: Y/N is dealing with unspoken feelings for Jisung, who suddenly becomes distant while dealing with his own feelings and guilt. Chan, who's stuck in the middle, tries to comfort Y/N while secretly struggling with the side effects of their invisibility elixir. Every night things get harder for both Y/N and Chan.

Can Chan fight through the side effects like he thinks he can?

• Pairing: science nerd Chan x Female Reader

• Content Includes: smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, masturbation (m)

an: as always I'm sure there's something I forgot to add in the "Contents Includes" so if you feel like something should be mentioned please kindly let me know♡

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Part I

It's been a few months since you thought that your and Jisung's apartment was haunted. The random items moving and the dreams just suddenly stopped, and life slowly returned to something resembling normal. You wouldn't quite call it normal though because Jisung has been acting stranger than usual. He avoids you in the mornings and even more so at night. The behavior eats at you, leaving a heavy, sad feeling in your chest. You had hoped the situation would resolve itself and he'd come around but when Jisung practically runs away as you enter the kitchen, it's the last straw.

"Han Jisung! Don't you move another inch without telling me what's going on. Why are you avoiding me?" you demand, staring at his broad, lean back. Even through his lab coat or hoodies, his muscular build is apparent.

"I- I'm not avoiding you, Y/N. Just... uh... busy." he stammers, his voice trembling slightly.

"Yeah? Then why won't you turn around and look at me?" you challenge, frustration seeping into your tone.

You half-expect him to ignore you but when he turns around, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. His eyes are half-lidded, his cheeks red and he nervously chews on his bottom lip. The water bottle in his hand shakes as he squeezes the clear plastic. What is going on with him?

"Sungie... tell me what's wrong," you whisper, stepping closer.

He visibly gulps and shakes his head. When you're right in front of him, you reach out and brush some hair out of his eyes. His hair has grown so long lately and you wonder if he'll keep it that way. Secretly, you love the length on him. Lost in your thoughts about his hair, you fail to notice the hungry, crazed look in Jisung's eyes or how erratic his breathing has become as his gaze burns into you. You're only pulled out of your daydream when the bottle slips from his hands.

You look away from his hair, "Ji, you-"

Your words are cut short when he grabs your shoulders tightly, backing you up further into the kitchen until your back hits the counter beside the fridge. It's not painful but you whimper in surprise and confusion. Jisung closes his eyes, squeezing them shut with all his might like he's in pain.

"Are you hurt, Ji? What is it? Talk to me." you plead, trying to lift your hands to reach out to him.

He tightens his grip on your arms, keeping you from moving. He looks like he's struggling and with him holding you still, there's nothing you can do, especially since he won't talk. You open your mouth and take a deep breath, ready to call for help, hoping Chan is in the next room. Jisung's left hand quickly covers your mouth.

"Don't scream until I say you can." he orders, his voice dark and sending chills all over your body. "Trust me, you'll be screaming plenty, sweetie. I know that when you've got your fingers inside that sweet cunt of yours, you call out my name."

Your eyes widen, and you mumble behind Jisung's hot hand. He smirks, tilting his head to the side while his eyes search your face. He's not wrong but you've never seen this side of him. Hearing him talk about you fingering yourself to the thought of him makes you wet and you shift your footing. Jisung laughs and leans closer to your ear.

"See, you're wet right now and I haven't even done anything yet. When I'm done with you, you'll be rendered to a liquid. Maybe I'll keep you on my desk in one of my beakers and fuck you every night." he murmurs, biting down hard on your neck and sucking, making you cry out and moan. The sound escapes his palm and he rubs the bulge in his sweats against you. "This is what you wanted, wasn't it? I tried to keep away from you..."

He spins you around suddenly and you gasp, your palms and breasts are pushed onto the cold surface of the counter. You feel Jisung push your shorts down, the cold air hitting your hot skin makes you shiver just as Jisung thrusts up, impaling you with his cock. He's rough, brutal, and quick. Each time he rams into you, your stomach pushes into the edge of the counter, making each of your gasps sound like a breathy, short grunt.

"Does my cock feel as good as you imagined, y/n?" Jisung asks through gritted teeth, grabbing your hair at the nape and snapping his hips up and into you.

You groan loudly in response, eyes rolling back as your orgasm quickly builds. Your moans and breathing grow louder when he starts to fuck you faster. The kitchen fades away from your view and all your senses are consumed by Jisung.

"That's it, baby, scream for me. Scream for Jisung." he growls.

Your body tenses, and your panting sounds like that of a rabid, wounded animal that turns into full blown screaming as you quickly descend into bliss, crying out his name. Your body shakes, knees threatening to buckle and collapse until you wake up with a jolt, gasping and sitting up, dripping with sweat in the darkness of your bedroom.

You hear faint music coming from Jisung's room and sigh. Dreams of Jisung have been so constant lately. Not like the realistic dreams you had before, but those simple fantasies where he's fucking you until you can't stand. With another sigh, you get up and disappear into your bathroom for a cold shower.

Chan takes the opportunity to slip out of your room and carefully shut your door. His heart pounds in his chest, and he closes his eyes, focusing on calming his breathing. He lost track of how long he was under the elixir's effects and that was the whole point of this test. It's not the fact that he failed to keep a mental record that has him stressing right now though.

“Fuck, fuck…” he whispers, removing his glasses and scrubbing a hand down his face.

He can't understand why watching you sleep just now suddenly had him feeling so aroused. After weeks of watching you and studying what you could hear or notice while he was invisible, he never once felt turned on. He was always so fully focused on his study. He sat down in your chair, placed in the corner of your room by the window, and watched you toss and turn in your sleep. The way your facial expressions changed lightly and the soft, almost inaudible sounds you made fascinated him.

“Yeah, it's fascinating, that's all.” Chan mutters in the hall, hearing the water from the shower inside your room.

The happy twitch of his cock begs to differ from what he is trying to convince himself of. He shakes his head as if he can shake out the thoughts of you that try to formalize in his mind's eye. He needs to think about anything other than watching you cum in your sleep. But the more Chan tries to think of something else, the harder he feels his cock get. He pushes up from your door, about to plunge his face into some cold water in the kitchen when he hears a soft orgasmic moan past the sound of splattering water from the door behind him.

Before he can think, his hands are twisting the doorknob and cracking open your bedroom door. He gulps, knowing that if you walk into your bedroom, you'll see him since the elixir has already worn off, making him visible again. That fact is at the back of his mind, though and the only thing on his mind now is hearing the sounds of pleasure from the open door of your bathroom.

His hand slips inside of his black shorts, gripping the thick heaviness of his cock faster than he's ever been. There, half in your room and half out, Chan pumps his cock from inside his shorts. It feels incredible, different even, compared to the many times he's jerked off in the past. The sensation of pleasure feels like it's been heightened.

“Is this a… a side effect?” he whispers to himself and groans when he hears you let out a high-pitched gasp.

His hand slides up and down along his cock fast, the squelching noises coming from him covered up by the music in Jisung's room and the shower running. Precum seeps from the head of his cock, ruining his shorts with every stroke of his hand. He leans his forehead against the doorframe, closing his eyes and giving in completely to the feeling.

“Oh fuck y/n. Make yourself cum for Channie.” he thinks. He doesn't dare make a sound; he doesn't trust himself enough to be quiet if he were to open his mouth.

Still, even with his lips tightly shut, his breathing becomes louder, and he's lost all his control. Faster and faster, his hand moves, and the flapping sound of fabric joins in with the sounds of wet skin. He's trying to hold on, to see if he can cum at the same time as you, but he's too on edge, too needy, and far too desperate for release.

“Oh my gosh, oh fuck! I'm cumming. Fuck, shit.” His voice is just a tad louder than he meant, but he doesn't care. His orgasm is mind-altering, and it only intensifies when he hears your climax shortly after. The long, loud, shuddering exhale is enough confirmation for Chan. He wants to stay there, cock softening in his hand, for a few more minutes but getting caught with a large wet spot on the front of his shorts with his cock in hand wouldn't go over well with you, he thinks.

Your door clicks softly when Chan shuts it again. Before heading back to Jisung, he quickly gets some paper towels from the kitchen and cleans himself up as best as possible to not make Jisung suspicious. He's never confessed it to him, but Chan can see the way Jisung looks at you, like you're the lost city of Atlantis, and he's just discovered the beauty. He knows his buddy has a massive crush on you, so if Jisung knew that he just came to the sound of you, he'd be pissed. Chan couldn't help it, though; he knows that science can explain that he really couldn't control his body's reaction, but it couldn't excuse the way he felt compelled to jerk off to you.

“A side effect maybe? Can't be too sure, and we can't put it down as one without being one hundred percent positive.” he muses, tossing the crumpled-up paper towel into the trash and getting a bottle of water from the fridge.

You walk into the kitchen, hair wet and cheeks slightly rosy. Your face lights up, and you smile when you see Chan in the kitchen taking large gulps of water like he was dying of thirst.

“Oh! Hey, Channie. Needed a break, huh?” you ask brightly.

Chan sputters and stumbles over his words as he tells you that he and Jisung are indeed taking a break and how it's a really good break, just relaxing and doing regular break things. His words, not yours. You giggle and squeeze past him to get a bottle of water. Chan's eyes are glued to you, and thoughts of you moaning find their way back to him. His cock springs to life again with speed. He quickly bends over the counter, looking nonchalant when you stand up and turn around.

“Well, I hope the experiment isn't causing you two too much stress. You're looking a little pale, Channie,” you say, placing your palm on his brow. “No fever but you're a little clammy. Don't overdo it, boys.” You say and leave a very horny and nervous Chan alone in the kitchen.

The way you look after them is something Chan has always admired about you. Sure, you had a tendency to baby them a little bit but it was all out of the goodness of your heart. Your random acts of kindness always put a smile on his face. It never gave him a reaction like this, though. Not even fifteen minutes after cumming, he was hard again. At this rate, he's sure Jisung is getting suspicious of what's taking him so long. And just as he expected, when Chan walks into the room twenty minutes later after another orgasm in the kitchen, he's bombarded with questions.

“What the hell took so long? Did she catch you? Is our secret blown?” Jisung looks up at Chan from his computer chair, wide brown eyes full of curiosity and worry.

Chan shakes his head and flops down onto the air mattress that is his bed while he stays with Jisung. He's supposed to be making sure Jisung doesn't do anything and here he is, no better than his friend.

“I wasn't caught; she just caught me in the kitchen getting a drink. That stuff leaves the weirdest aftertaste, ugh.” He replies with a laugh, hoping that Jisung won't ask too many questions about you.

He doesn't need to get hard in front of his friend while he questions him about the girl he likes. To Chan's surprise, Jisung doesn't bring you up anymore other than that initial question. He does offer to mix some flavoring into the next batch before it comes down to doing more tests. The two work on things a little longer before calling it a night. That night, however, Chan's once peaceful, normal dreams are filled with you. Your face is clear as day, and the feeling of your tongue licking and gliding over his cock feels so real that he wakes up on the verge of cumming again. He shuffles into Jisung's bathroom and takes care of himself to the dream version of you that was on her knees in front of him.

Chan's dreams, desires, and arousal become more and more intense but you and Jisung remain unaware. You've got too much on your mind with how your roommate has been avoiding you like you've got the plague. You're so lost in every scenario and reasoning you come up with that you don't notice the way Chan watches you. You never catch him as he palms his stiff cock, desperate to ease the ache, all while you move around the apartment. He tries his hardest to not do the things that Jisung was doing when it comes to you while being invisible, but it's hard when he's in your room as you grind your hips and circle your clit with two fingers, moaning his best friend's name. It takes all his strength to not cum just from your sounds; it takes even more strength not to bury his face between your thighs and lap up your arousal after you cum.

All in all, Chan likes to think he's been good. He can fight the temptations that Ji gave in to, he's positive. Or so he thought. All day today, you unknowingly enticed him. Even the disappointment on your face when Jisung gave you a curt greeting had him twitching in his jeans. The loud sigh you let out when Jisung shut the door to his bedroom reminds Chan of the exact sound you make when you orgasm. He forces the thought away.

Not now, Chan, damn it. Can't you see she's upset?

“Don't worry about Ji, y/n, he's just stressed,” you hear Chan say.

Your eyes move from where they were fixated on the closed door and over to the curly-haired man with glasses. “Was it that obvious I was worried?” you ask, smiling weakly at him.

He shakes his head, ”Not at all, cutie, I just know you. You're always worrying about us.”

He pulls you in for a hug, and you feel his warmth melt away all your worries. You wrap your arms around his middle, relaxing in his embrace. The sweet vanilla and subtle cedar scent that is uniquely him surrounds you.

"Thanks, Channie," you say softly, sighing with contentment.

Just as quickly as the hug began, it’s over. He steps back, smiling shyly. The tops of his ears are a bright red, and he tugs on the lobe of his right ear, looking away from you.

“No worries. You know what they say—hugs make everything better, yeah?”

You nod and smile at him. He’s adorable when he gets flustered. He’s got to be the shyest extrovert you know. And he’s right—his hug did improve your mood a lot. Standing on your toes, you place a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek and thank him again before leaving the kitchen to change your clothes before you start cooking dinner.

Chan is frozen on the spot. Your lips felt so soft against his skin, and now his cock won't stop pulsating. He can still feel the ghost of your kiss pressing into the side of his face. “Fuck,” he grunts, gripping the counter, staring at the door to your room. His cock bounces wildly in the confines of his jeans and briefs. He hangs his head low, eyes closed, and tries to think of something else.

Ice cream. Yeah. Sweet, delicious, creamy… just like her pussy. Oh fuck, fuck. No!

The knuckles on both his hands turn white as he grips the edge of the counter harder. He tries to think of something else, but it fails too. His hips start moving, thrusting as if you drank the elixir and now you’re invisible, and he’s fucking you. That thought pushes him further into a place of desire he can't escape. Could I see my cock inside her if she drank it? he wonders. Could I watch my cum fill her up?

“Oh gosh, what I would do to see that. Shit,” he whispers, thrusting into the air faster. He knows that at any moment, you or Jisung could come into the kitchen, but he’s so close. “I'm so fucking close, y/n.”

The sound of a door opening makes Chan stop his crazed humping of the air. He sees you walking, eyes looking down as you put your hair into a high ponytail. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He imagines you getting ready to suck him off right there in the kitchen. His cock still bounces in his dark black jeans, the head pushing up into the cotton of his briefs, the friction feeling phenomenal. He can still feel his orgasm building, even as he stands completely still.

“Oh hey, Channie. Didn’t expect to see you still in the kitchen,” you say, walking past him.

The smell of strawberries and cream wafts past Chan, and his eyes close. He feels precum flowing out of his cock steadily now and he can't move. He tries to respond to you, but it comes out raspy and gravelly. He clears his throat and speaks again, trying to sound casual.

“Y-yeah, just giving Ji some time to himself,” he says behind you as you pull out all the ingredients you need to make dinner.

“That’s sweet of you,” you say, and Chan mumbles something that sounds like “Mhm” to you.

Honestly, he tried to say something else to keep the conversation going, but he couldn't stop the moan that made its way out. He mentally curses himself and looks over his shoulder. You’re focused on washing some veggies, the sound of the water hiding his soft, stifled breathing.

“I’m gonna cum. Fuck, her voice. Need to hear her. Need to feel her touching me.” He thinks.

He jumps when he feels a hand on his back. He doesn’t dare look at you. “Whoa, you okay? You’re shaking, Channie, and you’re really red,” worry fills your voice as you rub wide circles on his back.

“Mhm, headache,” he huffs.

Keep going, y/n. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.

“Do you need anything?” you ask, and he shakes his head slowly.

His cock is bouncing out of control now, and he hunches over, burying his face in his arm.

“Fuck,” he gasps, feeling you move closer to him. Your warmth and sweet scent send him spiraling, and he digs his nails into his arm.

“Chan?” you whisper, and he immediately spills his seed inside his jeans, like you calling his name flipped a switch. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even move or open his eyes; he just stays still, waiting for the aftershocks to subside.

“I’m fine, y/n.” He says finally. “Shit, thank you. I feel a lot better,” he sighs, standing up straight. He’s panting softly and smiling down at you. “I’m sorry if I worried you. Guess I’ve inhaled too many fumes in Ji’s room.” He chuckles, and you give him a relieved smile.

“I’ve got to remember to get you two some face masks or something. You had me worried, sir.” you roll your eyes, smiling, and turn around to start chopping up the vegetables on the cutting board. “You take it easy okay? I’ll let you two know when I’m done… Even if Sungie is ignoring me,” you mutter the last part under your breath bitterly.

You feel Chan’s hand on your shoulder. It’s warm, strong, and comforting, blocking out any negative thoughts. His chest is close to your back, and you stop the meticulous chopping. Very slowly, you feel him bend down and place a soft, gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“He’ll come around. Thanks again, y/n.” Chan says and leaves you to your chopping.

He wanted to stay, to watch you move around the kitchen, but he needed to clean up and get to work. Back in Jisung's room, with fresh clothes and a clearer head, he works on the test beakers full of the elixir. Each container contains a diluted version of the elixir, and they’ve been testing its reaction with different chemicals to prolong the effects. So far, all six beakers show no changes, and they still haven’t noticed any significant side effects caused by the elixir, only the ones they refuse to acknowledge.

An hour passes, and both men are drowning in notes and textbooks when they hear a soft tap on the door and your calm, melodic voice letting them know that the food is done. Typically, they’ll grab some food and scurry back into the bedroom to eat and brainstorm, but as you sit on the barstool on the other side of the kitchen island, you hear them in some hushed conversation. When you look up from your phone, you catch Jisung’s eyes on you, and he quickly looks away. Ignoring them both, you continue to eat and text your friend.

You: Can’t wait for you to finally move closer. These guys are cool but with Ji avoiding me, the place feels heavy.

Bestie: Don’t worry. I’ll be there before you know it. Just try not to get into any weird situations.

You: This is me we’re talking about…

Bestie: Girl, exactly! Lol, stay out of trouble!

You: Lmao aye aye, captain 🫰

You’re laughing softly and smiling at your phone when you feel someone slide into the stool next to you. When you look to your left, you’re surprised to see Jisung sitting beside you. His eyes are glued to his plate of food, and he doesn’t look up in your direction. You catch sight of Chan smiling on Jisung’s other side, and you make a mental note to thank him later. Ji still hasn’t said anything to you for whatever strange reason but you’re thankful to Chan that he’s trying to help. You clear your throat and look at Jisung again. His hair is messy and long; you’re usually the one to give him the occasional trim, so now it’s all over the place.

“Um, Ji, do you want me to cut your hair later? It’s a bit longer than you wear it,” you say, trying to sound upbeat. You reach out and touch his hair just below his ear, and he shoots up out of his chair like he’s been electrocuted.

“No!” he shouts, going to stand on the other side of Chan. “I mean… no.” he softens his tone. “I-it’s okay, y/n. Just please don’t touch me.” and he leaves the room.

“Channie… what did I do?” you sniffle and swallow hard, fighting back tears.

This feeling is exactly what you wanted to avoid by having feelings for him. If things are like this now and you have no idea what you’ve done wrong, then how would it be if you two dated? Maybe he can tell I like him, and he doesn’t like me back? You think to yourself as you stare at Jisung’s closed door. Loud music blares from inside, mimicking the chaos in your mind. Chan gets up from his seat to sit beside you.

“You haven’t done anything, y/n. Ji… is dealing with a lot right now,” he tells you, his eyes soft.

He wants to reach out and touch you, to pull you into his arms again, but he fights the urge. It’s a lot easier now than it was a few hours ago. Still, the sight of you on the verge of tears makes him want to hold you and never let you go. Just being a good friend, yeah? Yeah, yeah, of course. He argues with himself internally, but he doesn’t move. He doesn't fully trust himself after what happened in the kitchen earlier.

“Maybe I could help him, ya know? I mean, if he just talked to me like he used to, I'm sure I could be of some help.” Your voice pulls Chan out of his own thoughts and back to the present.

“Maybe just give him some time and space. It'll all blow over soon, Y/N.” He assures you, picking up his and Jisung's plates before retreating into the loud room.

Tension hangs thick in the apartment, and if it weren't for Chan, you'd feel incredibly alone. He spends more time with you lately than he does with Jisung, and you assume it's because he's giving him space, exactly like he told you to do. But that's not entirely Chan's true motive. After his reaction at dinner, Jisung swears that you're the cause of whatever he felt when he drank the liquid, and Chan is determined to prove or disprove that theory.

“I haven't done anything to her while she's slept the entire two weeks, bro. Maybe you took some over-the-counter stuff that you forgot about and it reacted to that.” Chan whispers in the kitchen.

Jisung looks at you while you sit on the couch with your headphones on, gaming. You know the two of them are there; you even know that Jisung is watching you, but you focus on the game. Well, focus might be a loose term; you keep dying each time you try to see Jisung out of your peripheral vision.

“You mean you don't feel anything when you're near her after drinking that stuff?” Jisung asks, his whisper rising in pitch. Chan shakes his head no, but he knows that's not true. He just feels too guilty to tell his friend. “Okay, then it'll be safe to up your dose tonight. Y/N has to work tomorrow, so she'll be asleep early.”

“Uh, yeah. No problem.”

That night, you say goodnight to Chan and retreat into your bedroom as he does the same, disappearing inside Jisung's room. He swallows double the amount of the pastel teal liquid and makes his way into your room while you’re in the shower. He makes himself comfortable in the same chair as always, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Why the fuck do we have to do these specific tests? Damn it, can't we just go back to scaring her? He thinks, chewing on his thumbnail.

While Chan struggles with his nerves, you step out of the bathroom humming softly. If this were an anime, he'd have a bloody nose right about now. Sure, he's heard you orgasm, but this is the first time he's seen you completely naked. He gulps silently and looks away as you sit on the edge of your bed in front of him. His eyes fixate on the thin slit of the black curtain as he hears you rummaging through your desk. He doesn't look at you until your foot comes between his legs, just missing his cock.

Chan's wide, shocked eyes travel from your foot, slowly making their way up your leg and to the exposed apex of your thighs. You start to rub lotion over your skin. The sweet coffee smell fills the room, making Chan feel lightheaded—or is it because he's been holding his breath the whole time, watching your hands glide over your body? Cock hard, he feels like a snake in a trance, and you, the skilled charmer, continue to hypnotize him. He feels something inside him shift, crack, and crumble. Is it his common sense? His composure? His self-control? There's nothing on his mind other than pure lust and desire.

Before you can put on your blue silk short pajama set, Chan is moving. You hear a thud and gasp, jumping back onto the center of your bed. The bed dips and before you can make another sound, strong, warm hands spread your legs wide as you feel the heat and wet sensation of a tongue pushing inside you.

You fall back into the mattress as pleasure washes over you. “Oh my god,” you whisper. The first touch of his tongue sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you cry out softly.

He licks and sucks, his tongue working you over with a skill that leaves you breathless. You’re writhing, your hands clutching at your pillows and bedsheets, your hips arching off the bed as you chase the pleasure that's quickly building inside of you. You can feel his breath against your inner thigh, and it makes you shiver. The sensation is almost too much, too unexpected.

Were your hallucinations back because you were so stressed about Jisung? The thought comes and goes. Every touch, every lick, every suck is precise, calculated to drive you wild and your legs begin to shake. You can hear the soft sounds of his mouth working against you, the quiet male hum of pleasure that escapes his throat. His tongue slides over your clit just as you feel two fingers push inside you and your hips buck against him. He holds you down, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he devours you. The pleasure builds and builds until you feel like you're going to explode.

You cover your mouth with your hands to muffle the string of cries and moans as you cum, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He continues to lick you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure making your body shake from the aftershocks. When you finally come down from the high, you're left panting and trembling, your body spent and your room… empty.

“It's back,” you whisper breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling.

Chan is on the floor at the foot of your bed with cum-soaked shorts and guilt and fear forming in his chest. His chest heaves as he stares at you too stunned by his actions to move. He knows he has to tell Jisung, knows that he had no control and that it was like he was possessed.

Fuck. Jisung is gonna fucking kill me.

But when he gets back to the room, he can't bring himself to tell his friend anything. Not about the feelings he had, the physical and mental changes, and definitely not about eating you out until you came on his tongue. He can still taste you, and it makes him both guilt-ridden and horny as hell.

The taste of you that one time has him feeling like a madman. He's been practically salivating to taste you again ever since. Chan starts to understand Jisung's addiction to the elixir because being in close proximity to you has him wanting to say, “Fuck everything,” and drive his cock deep inside your juicy sweetness every time he's invisible.

His palms are sweaty as he watches you from the barstool in the kitchen, two days later. Your hair is damp after your shower after work, and the long black tee you have on paired with short black shorts makes it look like you're bare from the waist down. How dare you look that enticing in one of his favorite colors? Though the shirt hides your curves, he’s memorized them already. He slips his tongue between his lips and wets them, thinking about his tongue traveling all over your body. There's not an inch of your body that he doesn't want his tongue to explore.

“Did you hear me, Chan?” you say, leaning over the island, getting closer to his face. His eyes look distant and glassy, like he’s had way too many bong hits.

“Um, no? Sorry, beautiful. I spaced out there for a minute. What were you saying?” He blinks a few times and smiles, flashing his dimples.

You stand up and mirror his blinking. “Did he just call me beautiful?” you ask yourself. Chan's never given you a nickname like that. You're usually Minion or, more heartfelt, Cutie. You brush it off, deciding not to read into it and repeat your question.

“I want to know if you wanted some ramen, spaceman,” you say with a laugh, and Chan's cock springs to life at the sound.

“Oh, my bad. No thanks, y/n, I gotta get back to the experiment. You know if I leave Ji alone for too long, he'll blow his room up.” He replies, making you laugh again, which only makes his cock harder.

Fuck, not again. Really don't wanna cum in my pants again. I don't remember Jisung mentioning anything about that. Did that not happen to him? Chan wonders if it's just him. And if so, does that mean that the side effects are different for each person that takes it?

He gets up and tries to hide the obvious large bulge in his pants but with the way your eyes widen, he knows that you noticed. It turns him on even more, especially seeing the soft pink form on your cheeks. He suddenly turns towards you, standing there so you can get a better look.

“Thank you for looking out for us, y/n. Jisung's lucky to have you as his roommate.” He winks, watching the blush deepen, which is exactly what he wanted. You look so soft, so innocent and beautiful, at the moment he could care less about the experiment. More than anything he'd like to watch you come undone by his hands. When he's satisfied in watching you blush, he turns and makes his way to Jisung's room.

You're flustered and stunned, with your bowl of ramen on the counter getting cold. Between the sudden nickname and that sight, you're feeling confused and a bit too hot for ramen. How could he not know? Guess that's a good thing, I don't want him feeling embarrassed for something he can't control. You tell yourself. If you only knew that embarrassment was the last thing Chan was feeling.

Gosh, I'd love to see her blush with my cock in her mouth. “What? No, no… No.” Chan mutters to himself before turning the knob to his friend's bedroom.

That night, Chan would have to drink the liquid, become invisible, and watch you. He really needed to have his head on straight. When he opens the door, he wishes he had stayed in the kitchen with you just a little longer. Jisung is lying back flat on his bed, pants around his ankles and shirt pushed up, exposing his chest as he thrusts up into the air, fucking his fist.

“What the hell, man?!” Chan shouts, looking away as Jisung scrambles to cover up.

The sudden noise snaps you out of your thoughts. When you look around the corner, you see Chan standing half in and half out of Jisung's doorway.

“Shit, fuck, fuck. I thought you'd be longer,” Jisung blurts out, his voice frantic.

“Why couldn't you do that in the bathroom like a normal person, bro?” Chan hisses in a loud whisper, trying to keep his voice down but failing.

“You saw what she's got on—I couldn't help myself. I don't know how you can.” Jisung murmurs, but his voice is so soft that you can barely catch the words.

“Everything okay, Chan?” you ask, stepping closer, your voice startling him. He looks at you, wide-eyed, and you hear Jisung mutter another curse from behind the door.

“Huh?! Y-yeah, y/n. No worries. All's good here. Just, um, um, Ji killed a spider.” Chan glances back at Jisung. “I would've taken it outside, bro. Should've known.” He adds, and you hear Jisung's muffled apology.

“Oh. Ew, okay. Glad you two are good.” You nod, turning away.

As you walk off, the two men let out a collective sigh of relief. Jisung was right, Chan silently agrees. The outfit you had on was far too tantalizing to ignore. Both he and Jisung knew they wouldn't get any work done while being so worked up over you. In fact the little scare you gave them, almost catching a glimpse of the room did them some good. It was a good thing you didn't know what they were up to, for both his and Ji’s sake. You would've put two and two together and figured out everything.

“Especially not before I can feel you,” he thinks, frustration simmering beneath his skin. “No. Absolutely not. Why… Why am I even thinking like that? It's got to be a side effect, right?” Chan questions himself internally, all while Jisung briefs him on what needs to be done. He knows he should bring up how he's been feeling lately, especially how he feels each time he swallows that mysterious liquid on Jisung's desk, but guilt stops him each time.

“All right, let's wait a bit before you take it. We'll up the dose times… four?” Jisung suggests, and Chan just nods. “Cool. I made sure to add some flavoring to it. Should taste like strawberries. I'm curious if it'll change anything, so keep an eye out.”

Jisung's rambling continues, but Chan's thoughts aren't in the room. They're on you. He can still smell your perfume, still taste your lingering sweetness even after so many hours. It should be impossible, but the memory of your scent and taste clings to him. Visions of you cumming in various positions blur Chan’s focus, the images so vivid it's as if they're real. It's only when Jisung throws a rubber glove at the back of his head that he snaps out of his trance.

Okay. I can do this. I can fight it. It's nothing. This is... Nothing. Hmpf, so easy.

He chants the words over and over in his mind as he swallows the elixir. The familiar warm sensation begins, spreading through his body like wildfire. It feels as if all his limbs have fallen asleep, a tingling starting at his toes and working its way up to the top of his head. When the sensation peaks, it’s like being submerged in warm water, and he knows that he's now completely unseen.

As quietly as possible, he leaves Jisung's room and tiptoes into the living room where you're currently sitting. Behind the door, he can hear Jisung begin a recording of the two of them talking, giving the illusion that they're still hard at work. The TV illuminates your features in the dim light. The color of your eyes and hair seem to glow, making you look like some ethereal goddess.

"So beautiful," Chan thinks as he walks closer to you. Closer and closer until he's beside the dark gray couch. He shouldn't be so close, but it feels like his feet won't stop. For a while, he just stands there watching you, the stress and worry etched on your face deepening.

You sit on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. The noise from Jisung’s room filters through the thin walls of the apartment. The tension between you two gnaws at your insides, leaving you restless and on edge even more than before. What did I do wrong? You can’t help but replay the last few weeks in your head again, especially those strange moments when you felt like someone was there, touching you, making you question your sanity. Maybe he really is fed up with all your crazy ideas about the apartment being haunted. It's why you didn't mention what you felt in your room the other night. You didn't want Chan to start avoiding you too.

“I got on his nerves so much, now he wants nothing to do with me,” you whisper to yourself, glancing over your shoulder before looking back at the forgotten anime.

You stretch out, trying to shake off the unease and sigh. Your fingers absently trace the fabric of the couch, the worn material soft and familiar under your touch. You can hear the faint sounds of Jisung and Chan discussing some scientific and complex theories, but you’re too lost in your thoughts to pay much attention. Suddenly, the room feels different—like someone just invaded your space. Like they're right in front of your face. You look around, but nothing seems out of place.

Then, you feel it. A gentle touch on your shoulder, fingers grazing your skin. You freeze, your breath catching. The sensation is familiar yet different. It’s like the past few weeks all over again but this time, it feels... more. You don't know how to explain it but it's like it consumes you. The couch dips between your legs. The air grows warmer, and you feel a presence, an invisible weight pressing against you. Your heart pounds, but you don't move. It doesn't stop, instead, it intensifies, a whisper of a touch ghosting along your arm, sending shivers down your spine.

"Is it really happening again?" you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heart. You close your eyes, leaning into the touch as a warm hand cups your cheek briefly, letting your imagination take over. It feels so different this time. New yet oddly familiar.

Chan watches you intensely as his hands move, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The elixir courses through his veins, its side effects overpowering all his rational thoughts. He’s driven by an insatiable urge, a need he can't control. He watches as you react to his touch, his heart aching with guilt and confusion. No matter how strong his willpower is, the elixir's effects are stronger and he just can't fight it.

His fingers trace the curve of your neck, and you shiver with pleasure. You can almost imagine it’s Jisung, finally giving in to the tension between you two, putting a stop to his avoidance. You lean back, your head resting against the arm of the couch, giving in to the fantasy in your mind.

Chan’s breath catches in his throat. He’s never seen you like this, so vulnerable, so open. His touch grows bolder, his hands moving to explore the contours of your body. You gasp as his fingers brush against the sensitive skin of your stomach.

“Jisung…” you whisper softly, lost in the sensation.

Chan’s heart twists painfully at the sound of his friend's name on your lips. But he can’t stop. The elixir won’t let him. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s not Jisung,” he wants to say, but the words die in his throat. Instead, he lets his actions speak for him, letting his hands trail lower, fingers lightly brushing over your cunt through your shorts. The scent of something familiar wafts past you—sweet, with a hint of something woodsy. It’s Chan’s scent, you realize; that's how he always smells, but that doesn’t make any sense. You dismiss the thought as your imagination running wild from stress again.

You moan softly, arching into his touch. The room feels like it’s spinning, the air thick with lust. Your hands reach out, trying to grasp something, anything, to anchor yourself. You expect nothing there, only the invisible force that is Chan’s chest collides with your fingers and you gasp in surprise. Your touch is like electricity to Chan and he's entirely driven by a desire he can’t control.

Chan’s mind is a mess of jumbled up thoughts and feelings. He wants to stop, to pull away but his body won’t listen. He’s lost in the sensation, the feel of your skin under his fingers, the sound of your moans filling the air. It's addicting and he needs it. He leans down, nipping and licking your neck, tasting the salt of your skin. You're soaking, your juices dampening your shorts.

“More,” You beg. Your voice sounds so distant like you're having an out of body experience but you need to be filled, stretched. The light touches are driving you insane.

Your shirt is lifted, and you feel warm breath against your bare skin. The touch is everywhere now, kneading your breasts, tweaking your nipples, making you writhe on the couch. You can’t help but moan, louder this time, the sound louder than what's playing on the TV. If Jisung didn't have music playing in his room he'd have heard you.

What's left of Chan’s resolve crumbles. He moves with a newfound urgency, your shirt is ripped over your head and his hands and lips explore every inch of your body. Sucking and biting your flesh, your chest will be covered in hickies though you'll hardly notice or care. You’re lost in the feeling of his touch, the sounds of his ragged breathing, the feeling of his lips on your skin. It’s overwhelming, heady, consuming, intoxicating and you give in completely, letting yourself be carried away in the moment. Your reactions and the elixir's effects are driving Chan crazy, making him want to claim you, to make you his. He feels a primal need to possess you, to mark you as his own. He's vaguely aware of how insane that is. You're just his friend. Just sweet, sweet, caring, adorable y/n.

“Fuck, why do I want to ruin your pussy so bad?” He thinks looking down at your breast that is now littered with bite marks and red spots. He grits his teeth so hard that the muscle in his jaw flexes.

Fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts, finding you pantyless, teasing you expertly. Your hips buck involuntarily and your hands cling onto arms you can't see. The room is filled with the sound of your ragged breathing, the wet noises of invisible fingers sliding against your arousal. It’s maddening, being touched like this by someone you can’t see, but you don’t want it to stop.

The sensation of lips on yours is sudden, and you kiss back hungrily, feeling the heat and urgency in the invisible kiss. Your pants are pulled down, and you kick them off, desperate for more.

You feel the weight of an invisible body pressing you into the couch, the sensation of a hard, warm presence against your core making you moan again in anticipation. You’re slick, ready, and when you feel the pressure of him entering you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You've never been stretched this much, never felt this full even just from a couple of inches

“Ji...” you whisper one last time, but deep down, you know it’s not him.

Chan’s mind is a whirlwind of guilt and lust. “I’m sorry, y/n. Oh fuck.” He thinks, wishing he could say the words out loud.

He remains silent though, his actions driven by the liquid's effect. The pleasure, though, is beyond anything he's ever experienced. It's too strong, too addicting.

Did Jisung feel this insane? I feel like I'm not here in my own body. Yet I can feel every single thing.

“So wet.” he thinks. “But not for you.” his conscience adds. “But maybe if she knew it was me… maybe she'd be wetter?” He counters his own thoughts, feeling your cunt take every inch of him perfectly.

Each thrust is rough and quick, accompanied by a chorus of your moans and his low grunts. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure. The couch creaks beneath you and your moans grow louder and louder, but you don’t care. All that matters is the feeling of being completely devoured. It's like every touch and every thrust lights you on fire.

Chan’s body moves with a mind of its own, fucking fast and hard with no regards to whether he's hurting you or not. He’s mesmerized by the way you respond to him, the way your body feels under his. It's not too late to stop but he can’t. The elixir has taken over and he’s powerless against it. He’s lost in the moment, his own body responding to your every move.

“I’m so sorry.” He thinks again, but the words are swallowed by his overwhelming need. He watches as you move with him, your body arching and writhing in pleasure. He’s never seen you like this, never imagined you’d feel so good, so perfect.

You feel your climax building, the pressure too much. When you finally shatter, you feel it all throughout your body. You cry out, your body trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. Chan feels your muscles contract around him, pushing him over the edge. He releases inside you with a muffled grunt, his legs shaking as your cunt milks him. For a moment, everything is still. The room is thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the air heavy with the sound of your intertwined breathing.

Lying there breathless, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure you feel the presence slip out of you leaving you feeling empty. The only sounds you hear is from the TV and whatever is going on behind Jisung's closed door. The presence is gone, leaving you alone and bewildered. You touch your lips, still feeling the phantom press of his kiss.

“That was real.” you say outloud to yourself, looking down at the red marks all over you.

Chan watches you from the kitchen, his heart heavy with guilt. He knows he can’t let this happen again but the need is still there, simmering beneath the surface waiting to bubble over again. He slips away, retreating to Jisung’s room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You lie back on the couch once fully dressed with your mind racing. What just happened? Who was it? And why does it feel so different this time? You close your eyes, trying to make sense of it all, but the answers elude you. All you know is that something changed, and you’re not sure what it means, but you're determined to find out.

You don’t know what’s going on, but you’re certain now that whatever it is, Jisung and Chan are behind it. It only makes sense, but at the same time, it doesn’t. You smelt Chan's cologne, the same one you bought him last year for Christmas. You felt his muscles when your fingers gripped his arms. You’d know one of Chan’s hugs when you felt it. Why couldn’t you see him though? That sort of thing is only possible in movies like "Harry Potter" or that Kevin Bacon movie "Hollow Man." Right? There's got to be a way to find out if you're actually crazy or part of some weird experiment.

Over the next two days, it's more of the same but you expect it each time and for some reason, you find that you wait for him. When the smell of vanilla surrounds you, you know that you'll feel his hands next and you always do. It doesn’t seem to matter where you are around the house; he always finds you. Always fucks you with unfiltered need. On the balcony, where the cool night air contrasts with the heat of Chan’s body as he lifts you onto the table, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady. You feel the rough texture of the metal beneath you, the slight chill against your bare skin. You feel his heart pounding against your chest, a mirror of your own racing pulse. He leaves you spent, your body still trembling with the aftershocks. It was the same way last night when he took you in the kitchen on the floor.

Your tea was cold by the time you got to it. Still, you have no way to prove your suspicions. With a smirk, an idea forms in your mind. Those two aren’t the only smart ones in the apartment. Whatever is going on, it's clear that it’s not permanent. You chew on your bottom lip in thought, watching Chan and Jisung raid the kitchen for pizza and drinks. Jisung's gaze flicks to you and back to Chan.

Does he know? Is it all just some sort of joke? That’s got to be why he’s been acting so weird towards you, right? Your smirk widens and turns into a full-blown grin that seems to make Jisung nervous and he looks away quickly. When Chan looks at you, you see a flicker of something that gives you a bit more confidence in your theory.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll make you show me.” you whisper under your breath, never breaking eye contact in a silent challenge.

You shift on the sofa and lay back exactly the way he had you that first night he entered you. When Chan swallows hard and licks his lips, you shiver. He knows that you know something and he's glad. He wants you to find out, he wants to be caught. What will you do once you find out everything though? He has no clue but he's sure it'll change everything between you three.

Part III in the works.

★𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱★

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[pankowperfection]

Hey I wanted to request an idea I had!

(For some reason lol rafe and jj are in the same house hold)

So you’re walking through the house to go get some water and jjs door is slightly open, you peek inside and see him jerking off, and then as you go to turn around back to your room rafe come up behind you with his hand over your mouth and tells jj that you were spying on him. And then they both fuck you.

Peeping Tom

Okay this idea was stupid hot, so thank you so so much for requesting. Hope you love it.

The party had finally winded down, only a few stragglers left in the Chateau. You stumble your way to the fridge for a bottle of water, sighing in relief as you press the cool plastic to your overheated skin. A night filled with drinking, smoking, and dancing had left you tired but also extremely horny.

You feel your way back through the familiar hall, planning on ducking into an empty room to help relieve the pulsing between your thighs. Just as you are passing JJ's door you hear a soft groan, effectively stopping you in your tracks. The door is open just enough for you to see inside, and what you see makes the throbbing between your legs intensify.

Apparently the party had JJ feeling the same way. He's naked from the waist down, head thrown back into the pillows as he roughly fists his cock. His motions look almost angry, his hand wrapped tightly around his length as he strokes hard and fast. You can't look away, mesmerized by his grunts and moans. A slight sheen of sweat covers his body, abs tensing as he somehow manages to pick up his pace.

Your body can't wait for your own release any longer, forcing you to turn away from the show and start to head back to your room. Just as you reach the door someone grabs you from behind, wrapping a hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming. Your heartbeat skyrockets, wondering if JJ had caught you watching and decided to come finish the job. The smell of expensive cologne quickly tells you who's hard body you are currently pressed against, none other than Rafe Cameron.

"Is that what you pogues like to do for fun? Watch each other jerk off?"

He spins you around, pressing you into the wall and caging you in with his strong arms on either side of your body. You can't help how drawn you are to him, eyes falling to his plump lips and wondering the best way to get out of this.

"Not exactly, but I could use some help taking care of myself if you're offering."

You bat your eyelashes at him, grabbing a hold of the front of his shirt and pulling him flush against your body. He chuckles darkly, leaning down so close that your lips almost touch.

"Nah sweetheart, we're gonna go see what JJ has to say about you being a little peeping tom."

Suddenly he backs away, grabbing onto your wrist and yanking you back down the dimly lit hall. He pounds on JJ's doorframe, not loosening his grip while waiting for the man inside to appear. Finally JJ emerges, looking annoyed at the sight of Rafe before shifting to a smirk when he sees you standing there in your crop top and shorts.

"Cameron. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Rafe scoffs, pulling you forward slightly so you're trapped between the two of them.

"Just thought you'd like to know that I caught y/n outside of your room, watching you jerk off."

"Really y/n? You were watching me?"

Two pairs of striking blue eyes land on you, waiting eagerly for your response.

"I'm sorry J, truly. I was just feeling needy after the booze and when I was walking by you moaned... I didn't mean to invade your privacy." A blush creeps up over your cheeks, embarrassed that not one but two men caught you in a moment of desperation.

JJ crosses his arms over his bare chest, muscles rippling and causing the ache between your thighs to increase once again. You press your thighs together, hoping neither of them notice as you try to get some relief.

"Well sweetheart, you didn't think you were just gonna get a free show did you? I think you need to be a taught a lesson. What do you think Rafe?"

Rafe smirks, shoving you forwards across the threshold into JJ's room.

"I agree. Bad girls need to be punished y/n. Now take off your clothes and go sit on the bed."

Excitement floods through your system, realizing you're about to experience what every girl on the island has fantasized about. Your legs carry you across the small space, turning around just in time to see Rafe shut and lock the door. You slowly pull your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side as both men watch you closely.

Your nipples harden in the cool nighttime breeze drifting through the window, goosebumps spreading over your skin as you shimmy out of your shorts and panties. You do as Rafe commanded, sitting down on the bed and waiting for your next instruction while arousal hums through your veins.

JJ moves forward first, dropping to his knees between your feet and forcing your legs apart. "She's soaked already man, and we didn't even touch her yet. Come look." He turns his head over his shoulder, beckoning Rafe forward as he brings his attention back to you, teasing a ringed finger through your folds before popping it into his mouth.

Rafe quickly takes his place, leaning down to blow a cool breath across your sensitive bud. Your body trembles from the sensation, a low moan escaping from your lips as you lean back on your elbows to watch. He licks one agonizingly slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, your back arching off the bed at the pleasure.

"Shhh sweetheart. Wouldn't want anyone to hear how big of a whore you are for us right?" Rafe mocks, pushing to his feet before starting to undo his zipper. JJ follows his lead, slipping his shorts down his tan legs and palming himself through his boxers. Drool pools below your tongue at the erotic sight before you, both of them obviously huge and aching just for you.

"Get on your hands and knees y/n, now." JJ commands, stalking closer to the bed and landing a sharp smack to your ass as you scramble into position. You feel the bed dip behind you, excitement at taking them both swirling through your system as Rafe invades the space in front of you.

"Remember, this isn't for you."

He forcefully grabs your cheeks, forcing you mouth open and shoving his thick cock all the way to the back of your throat. You struggle with his size, trying your best not to gag as tears start to stream down your face. He wastes no time, pulling you hair into a makeshift ponytail to use for leverage, dragging your mouth back and forth over his length.

Spit drips down your chin onto the bed, the wet sucking sounds echoing around the small space. You do your best to keep up with Rafe's brutal pace, massaging his shaft with your tongue while he uses you for his pleasure.

"Fuck, her mouth feels like heaven. Such a good little slut, aren't you y/n?"

You do your best to respond, humming to let them know you were happy to be anything they wanted.

Just when you start to wonder what JJ is doing you feel the heat radiating off his body as he leans over your back. The metal of his rings digs into your hip while he drags the tip of his cock through your slit, your moan making Rafe jerk on your tongue.

When he presses inside your back arches, toes curling as your first orgasm of the night rips through you. Your body so desperate for release that you can't stop the coil from snapping. The feeling of you moaning around him sends Rafe over the edge, his hot cum coating the back of your throat. He's still rock hard, dark glint in his eyes as he gives your abused mouth a break, moving to the edge of the bed to watch JJ fuck you.

"Better hold on tight princess, I won't hold back."

That's all the warning JJ gives before pulling out slowly then slamming back in. You crumple forward, gripping tightly onto the sheets as he pounds you deeper than any guy ever has. Each push and pull makes your legs tremble, incoherent pleas and moans spilling from your lips as your system overloads on pleasure.

Rafe suddenly returns, taking a seat beside you before sneaking a hand under your body. He quickly finds your clit, rubbing soft circles that have you crying out bother their names for mercy.

"Come on y/n, better be a good girl and make JJ cum, yeah?"

You nod eagerly, too drunk on the feeling of JJ inside you to respond. Suddenly JJ grabs onto the back of your neck, sharply pulling you up until your back rests against his front. His hand finds its way around your throat, squeezing just enough to let you know he's in control.

"Let go princess, wanna feel you soak me." One more thrust and you do as he commands, falling apart with a scream while Rafe continues to rub your clit. You barely sense JJ pull out, his sticky cum coating your back. All three of you collapse onto the small bed, quickly falling asleep tangled beneath the covers.

@adventuresinobx @starkeyobx @paradisehamilton @ailee-celeste @pankhoeforlife @outerbankspov @houseofperfecttaste @faithforgottenlxnd @maybankslover @maybanks-luver @blueicequeen19 @toystory2wasjustokay @onmykneesforrafe @penny4yourthoughts @maddie-routledge @ilovetheavenger143

[magical-mistakes-vm]

14

TW - physical violence description, violence against women, choking, abuse, physical harm, injury

Vollrath, Elmar, & Baldur discover what happened to Mahala when she was alone in the office with Jonathan...

Before he sat down at his desk, Vollrath took a bottle of water over to Mahala, who told him she was now just feeling tired.  Baldur and Elmar watched as he said something softly to her and kissed her forehead, then closed his suit jacket over her again.  During it all, she hadn’t moved.  Jonathan was lucky she was alive, they were both sure.  Vollrath was never gentle with anything, yet he was handling her like she was made of the most fragile mercury glass. There was a look on his face, when he looked at her, that they had never seen before.  Since both had known him since they were all children, that told them a lot about what was going on with him.  Neither had a doubt now that she WAS the Lioness. “Okay, let’s see what really happened in here.”  Vollrath said as he took a seat in his office chair, and letting out a heavy sigh.  Baldur and Elmar grabbed chairs from the still overturned conference table and rolled them over, sitting so they could see too. None of them were particularly looking forward to having to watch her be attacked, but they all had to know what happened before the Council meeting. So, Vollrath hit play on the downloaded video, and they all waited.

They watched as the recording showed the three of them leaving, then Mahala unsteadily making her way to the bathroom. The heavy exhale from Vollrath had his two friends looking over at him, a bit nervously.  He was obviously still upset at the way she had staggered as if drunk, leftover side effects of his anger.  The guilt on his face was an unusual sight, and was one more clue that there was definitely something going on between Vollrath and Mahala that they had never witnessed before between him and another woman.  He was now holding his chin in his hand, obviously tense already and nothing had happened; they hoped that when it did, he would be able to contain it.

It was shortly after that point in the video when Jonathan entered the frame.  He sat down what looked like some reports on Vollrath’s desk, as he said he had.  Then he seemed to be looking for something on the desk, moving some files and looking through others.  There was some more shuffling of papers that were randomly on the desk until he froze, that was when the door to the private office bathroom opened and Mahala exited, still a little shaky and with a hand to her temple.  The audio hadn't been downloaded but from the gestures, there had been some kind of conversation about who she was.  The fact she had on Vollrath’s suit jacket apparently did not make it obvious she was somehow connected to him.  Jonathan’s head started shaking and he grabbed both of Mahala’s upper arms and slammed her into the wall.  There was a slight crack as Vollrath had a death grip on the arms of his office chair, and something plastic had broken. “Easy big guy, look over there.  She’s fallen asleep, nice and easy.  She’s fine.”  Elmar tried to reassure his friend, keeping his voice calm.  Or maybe he was reassuring himself, he was no less enraged.  The devastation in the room, and the way he’d just seen Jonathan handle the woman, concerned him, a lot.

The video continued on to her trying to get away, obviously saying something.  Mahala was once again slammed into the wall, then Jonathan had let go of one of her arms to choke her.  There was about 5 seconds of that, with all three of them growing increasingly tense and enraged, and they watched as she put her hands on Jonathan’s chest and shoved once, and the second time it was like the room exploded in a white light.  When the camera focused once more, the room was how they had found it when they rushed in.

“How did she do that?” Baldur asked incredulously.  If she was untrained as Vollrath had said, how could she have commanded that much power into someone else? He was still staring at the screen where Vollrath had frozen it, trying to wrap his head around what he’d just seen.  Nothing was making sense.

“She is untrained, she was terrified, and she probably didn’t mean to.  Think about it.  Her mind would have been focused on getting him away from her.  She’s been in the company of the three of us this morning for a while.  Three powerful warlocks, one being the Master of a whole Coven.  It is going to call to her dormant powers, which are damn strong, Bal.  Depending how much time she spent with Vol last night, could be a damn strong pull by now.  Not to mention whatever residual magic was floating around from Vol losing his temper over jealousy, and then having to help her feel better.”  Elmar laid out everything he was thinking.  He waited for Vollrath or Baldur to correct him if he got something wrong.

“She slept in my arms on my couch last night.” Vollrath caught both of them raising their brows as they looked at him. “You can judge for yourselves our level of affection and how close we were.  So, with the two of you both around her this morning, I’m sure that Elmar is correct.  Which is why her training has to start immediately.  It saved her life, but she could hurt someone on accident as well.” He looked at the two of them in turn before scrubbing a hand over his face and up into his hair.

Baldur considered it all. “She definitely shouldn’t be alone.  Elmar or I should stay with her during the Council meeting tonight.  You have to talk to them.  The video will speak for itself, I’ll call down to security to have them get us a copy with audio.  We need to protect her till you leave for your cabin with her.  She doesn’t seem the kind to attack someone else, but Jonathan has friends that might not listen to the truth.  Another incident like this one, even with provocation and you know that someone will be out for blood.”

Elmar nodded in agreement.  She also needed to be protected from anyone that Jonathan might know that would seek retribution.  She had not acted wrong, but others might not see that. “I’ll stay with her.  Bal, you figured out what was wrong first.  You can speak to the bruises we saw.  If they want to hear from me, they can send you or Vol in.  I can’t add much that you two wouldn’t be better for.  But if they come for her, they aren’t going to fare well.”  His tone and expression were serious.  There were times that he didn’t trust the Council and this was one.

“El, don’t start a fight where there isn’t one.” Baldur warned.  He knew exactly why he felt that way.  “Vol and I got this.  No one is going to come for her.  This isn’t the same situation as your sister.”  The growl that came from Elmar told him that he might have stepped on a nerve he shouldn’t have, but he didn’t flinch.  “It’s not.  Neither Vol or I are going to let them come for her. You just keep her company and make her tea, if she needs it, with some lemon.  Her throat has got to be killing her.”  He glanced in her direction, concern evident across his face.

“NO. ONE. is going to come for her.” Vollrath stated absolutely.  “We are not going to mention the level of familiarity between her and I, nor that she spent last night in my company.  She came here this morning to meet with the three of us after I confronted her on my property last night preparing to do a ritual she is not trained in.  I convinced her to hear the three of us out about her abilities, and the ritual she clearly did not understand.  That is all that they need to know.  Or do you gentlemen feel differently?”  Vollrath looked at both of them, as they agreed with him.  He too knew the Council often stopped listening when they heard something that they thought was the “real story”, and were wrong.  Limiting the story to just what happened in his office would prevent that.  “How do we explain her having your jacket?”  Elmar asked.  That was the only flaw he could see in the explanation that Vollrath was suggesting. “Everyone knows Vol’s temper.  She wasn’t understanding and accepting what was being said, and he started to lose his temper out of frustration.  She didn’t know about shielding and he didn’t think about that.  He caused her to pass out.  We’ll leave out the real reason: she didn’t understand that you and I were flirting with her just to piss off the big guy, and Vol was actually jealous and about to hit one of us.” Baldur gave a tight smile.  Not one of any of their finer moments and he would be happy to leave it out from anyone ever hearing about it.

“Yes, that would be the better explanation for that.  And we WERE making her tea so you both could tell me what an asshole I am, and how I need to control my temper.  So, it’s not like they will question that.”  Vollrath sighed.  He still felt guilty about that, and now more so that she had been hurt when he left her alone in the office. 

banners by @cafekitsune

[writing-whump]

A wolf's heart

Continuation of this fic. Isaiah's is still sick, Matthew is helping him through the night. Contains a bit of emeto and chest pain.

Isaiah was in pain.

His chest felt tight for some days, but it kind of came and went, so he ignored it. That’s what you usually did with pain when you had a supernatural shadow taking it away. But this tightness was steady and hollow, like constant pressure under his breastbone and on his side and while it fluctuated during the day, it never quite went away.

It happened before. It actually happened often enough now Isaiah knew it came with too much raising and lowering his shadow for effect, and that it was becoming a weakness. A trademark way for his body to protest his shifting states. Or maybe longer lasting damage, a weak point he made to himself by his own hands.

He could accept that. But today was much worse. The tightness grew until it became a searing hot pain he was unable to ignore or think away. As if a white hot knife kept stabbing him into his heart, and the pain pulsed with his heartbeat, spreading to his jaw, neck, back, and arms. Traveling by nerve points, he guessed.

So Isaiah found himself at home, his white button up shirt sweated and clammy, heart pulsing with searing pain, short of breath and barely breathing. Not to mention his limbs felt like lead, pulling him with all the force of gravity down and every movement was a struggle. Changing positions was a gamble, because there was no logic in the pain spreading from his chest when he moved. And his mouth was flooding with these sour tastes and he was queasy without relief.

And the cherry on top? He couldn’t relax, because Matthew was there.

Currently watching him, fists helplessly clenched at his sides, a worried frown now etched on his forehead as if it could never go away.  

Isaiah was sitting on the couch, legs spread out in front of him, leaning heavily against the backrest. Matthew stuffed pillows under his back, and the upright position helped a little, but Isaiah’s chest simply hurt, consistent and crushing and making his eyes close and open as he rode out each wave. 

“Isaiah, what else can I do?” Matthew said, standing over him. He looked angry, but that was typical and Isaiah was learning to see the worry and concern hiding behind this particular furrow. 

There was a bowl on Isaiah’s lap, because after three hours he wasn’t bringing up more aside bile, so Matthew gave up on the overbig trashbag. 

But Isaiah found it quite reassuring, as a wave of pain crushed his chest and his breathing hitched. His stomach clenched in unison, not wanting to be left behind and soon enough bile shot up Isaiah’s throat. He went with the movements at this point, opening his mouth in time for the drool to drip down. The hot mouthful of the rest of his stomach lining splashed against the bowl. Matthew winced, stepping closer. 

Isaiah panted and leaned his head back. The light of the living room stung his eyes, in stark contrast with the darkness behind the window. Was it midnight already? He wasn’t sure. His cheeks puffed out with a silent burp, which brought him no relief. Again. 

He must have been dehydrating, because now a steady pounding in his temples joined the chorus of pain. But drinking anything, knowing his empty stomach was clenching and unclenching with force and any liquid would be taken as fuel was entirely unappetizing. 

Isaiah felt Matthew’s gaze on him and cracked his eyes open. Matthew was peering into the bowl, but there was almost nothing to rinse out. The redhead sighed in frustration. “There must be something I can do, right?”

Isaiah cracked his eyes open and regarded him through the blurry film of his eyes. “Get me a bottle of water. I have small ones under the kitchen sink.” Better to have water close, if he decided to risk it. He didn’t mention a glass, cause he didn’t think he could hold one steadily, but a plastic bottle was easy to discard nearby. 

Matthew shot out of the room immediately, happy to have something to do. They were both entirely bad at this. Matthew at taking care of someone, helpless, clumsy and clueless and Isaiah letting somebody assist him. Isaiah was used to suffering alone. That was the right way to bear pain, to handle it on your own, away from prying eyes sniffing at weaknesses. It was especially important for shadow wolves to look as strong as possible because their instincts made them attack. It was only natural. 

So Isaiah was used to loneliness, even craved it at times like these. Having Matthew around, he had to bite back moans of pain, had to hold himself quiet as his body purged itself of every drop of nourishment or liquid, had to focus on breathing steadily, even though each breath added another jolt of pure hurt. He was just so tired. And he didn’t know what anyone could offer to lessen his discomfort. Years ago, maybe, he had taken care of his younger brother when he was sick - but they were boys and Isaiah hid from his father’s strictness, going behind his back to soothe the pain of the shadow he knew too well. He couldn’t turn away from Hector then. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t turn away from Matthew now.

The truth was, he pitied Matthew. With such a difficult personality an enormous shadow like his was a burden. Yes, Matthew could be strong, he could rival many of the packs in the city on his own, if he weren’t a danger to himself. His shadow was too big, eating at him, taking his concentration and willpower. That’s why Isaiah didn’t expect Matthew to figure out something was wrong with him, not to mention what. He expected him to be too busy focusing on himself, on his shadow. He didn’t consider Matthew capable of thinking, caring or putting things together. Didn’t expect to get attached, either.

Isaiah wasn’t looking for a pack. That he vehemently rejected, no matter what his father, his origin pack or his brother thought of the idea. He didn’t care how many people he would disappoint, how weird and alarming they found him, how risky he had made it for himself. This was his life and he was going to live it by his rules, not by the pack’s. 

So he avoided enemies, rivals, equals - not that there were many running around. He didn’t let himself get dragged into their nets, working on the outside, bending the rules, testing his masks. But then Matthew came and Isaiah couldn’t stand idly without giving him a try. A chance. 

Matthew came back with the small water bottle, sitting down on the edge of the couch. “Here, take this.” He looked him over worriedly, as if making a list of differences of Isaiah’s state before his one-minute absence. It pulled a corner of Isaiah’s mouth, watching that.

To his own surprise, Isaiah did believe Matthew. Masks were important for him, his suits, his apartment, even his personality - he had his roles and robes, illusions for everyone and every occasion. Illusions were crucial, more important than reality, because they could shape it. They had the potential to become it. People believed what they wanted to believe, what they wanted to make true. Isaiah always did just that - became one with the masks he wore, the ones he crafted and chose carefully according to impact and desired effect. He presented himself as he wanted to be until he became it.

Not Matthew though. Matthew wore his heart on his leather jacket, pinned down at the front. Volatile and impulsive? Sure. But never hiding, never controlling and suprisingly unapologetic about it. The base was anger and frustration, but he was living the range of all the rest as he discovered it. 

Most people were just slaves to their desires, fears and instincts. Didn’t reflect or thing more ahead than the shortest way to pleasure, to self-interest and they usually weren’t even aware of this. They had a mask or two, not very well-crafted, using it to get what they wanted. 

As Matthew studied him, helpless but concentrated, hands reaching out for a second, but not daring to touch all the way, Isaiah saw the earnestness. He had underestimated Matthew before and hard. Maybe Matt wasn’t just a pity case, someone to help find a better direction and discard. Maybe he could be someone even Isaiah could count on. 

Matt uncapped the bottle and held it towards the sick man. Isaiah stared for a bit before slowly taking it, wincing slightly as his heart pulsed and blood rushed into his ears loudly. He took a small sip, savoring the cold water in his mouth before swallowing. 

Matthew watched him like a hawk. “What else? Would human medication help? Tea? Air?”

Isaiah turned his head slightly, wanting to close the bottle, but Matt grabbed it out of his hands and closed it himself. 

“...A cold compress. Take a clean towel… and dip it in water… and bring it over,” Isaiah instructed. His throat constricted and his chest freaking hurt and he was left breathless between the words, barely making them out. 

Matt jumped into action immediately, taking record time to return, even with the faint noises of cursing and thumping of something from the bathroom. He got back, white towel in hand, question written on his face.

Isaiah sighed. “For my head. Just hand it over.” He wrapped the towel around his forehead and let it hang around his neck. The seeping cold felt soothing against his heated skin. 

“You have a headache now too?” Matthew asked, rocking on his feet in surprise. 

“Likely from all the vomiting. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not doing it right anyway,” Matthew grumbled, something small and sad in his voice, pacing the living room.

“You are doing fine. Don’t worry about it. And for hell’s sake, sit down.” 

Matthew bit his lip, but sat down obediently beside the couch on the floor. Isaiah pushed the bowl away from his lap. His arms were so heavy and the movement shot out burning jolts into his arms. The black-haired man coughed, but despite the nausea swirling in his stomach with the sip of water, he was set on keeping it down. 

His shirt was freaking stuck to his skin with sweat and grime and for the moment he felt good enough to realize it in full. He grimaced, but there was no way he was going to change his clothes. Not in front of Matthew. The suit jacket he gave up, but the shirt was his last line of defense, a reminder of dignity and the illusion of control. Of something not claimed by this ridiculous weakness. Who knew, maybe Matthew would realize soon this wasn’t just healing on its own, not all the way, as Isaiah claimed. 

The suit pants were digging into his stomach though and it felt tender and puffed out now with that pathetic sip of water. He really really wished he could get rid of them. 

“Isaiah? Zaya? Hey, man, talk to me.” Matthew patted his leg gently. Somehow all too tuned into his every move. 

Isaiah hesitated. He just felt so tired and nauseated and his stomach freaking hurt, the pain radiating from his chest into his entire body. Damn these fucking clothes. “Could you…help me to my room?”

“You want to lie down? Sure, man, but won’t it be harder to breathe for you there? Though you wanted to sit…”

“Not-...” Isaiah had to take a deeper breath to finish, “that. I just want to change…” he tugged helplessly at his shirt, grey and splotchy. 

Matthew stared at him for a long second before realization lit his eyes and he surged to his feet. “For real? And you are asking me that now? After almost 5 hours?! You should have just changed into something comfy right when we got here!” 

Isaiah grimaced and hid half his face in his palm. Somehow he hoped Matthew would give up or Isaiah would find him a good excuse to leave, to send him somewhere, just anywhere, where he would have found a free moment to change properly. 

“Okay. I see you are overthinking this. And I’m not thinking enough. So obvious. Damn it all.” Matthew stalked out of the living room. Isaiah lifted himself up in a panic, wanting to follow, but shifting on the couch made him gasp in pain and he fell back immediately. 

Matthew returned not a few breath lengths later, shaking out a pair of pajama pants and a loose shirt. “Here. Don’t fucking get a heart attack for having to change in front of me. Hell.”

Isaiah braced himself and with closed eyes, panting for air, started to unbutton his shirt with shaky fingers. He guessed what would come next and he hated it. But Matthew only rolled his eyes, sitting on the edge of the couch beside him and leaning in to work on the buttons himself. He got him out of the shirt in no time, throwing it on the floor. Pants Isaiah could unzip just fine, thanks, but Matthew peeled them off of him. 

Then he actually helped him put the pajama shirt on. Thankfully it had no buttons, just loose black cotton with short sleeves. The pants could have been an awkward moment, except Matthew was so matter-of-fact and irritable Isaiah didn’t dare to protest. The wave of relief at having his comfortable fresh pajamas on was indescribable. Isaiah didn’t realize what a giant difference even such a small thing made when everything hurt. 

His stomach was churning, but with much less urgency. Isaiah got his towel back against his head and leaned back again. Matt stayed beside him, his shoulder almost touching his, grumbling. Isaiah let his eyes fall shut. Despite the crushing weight on his chest and the tremors in his limbs, he hoped for sleep, Matthew’s shoulder just an inch away, if he leaned against it.

[whatsnewalycat]

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 25: Pitch Dark

Word Count: 4.3k+

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, cheating/infidelity, domestic abuse, smoking, kidnapping, pregnancy, tension, cops, gore and violence, I don't really want to say anything else to prevent spoilers but I think if you've made it this far you'll be fine???

Chapter Summary: The search comes to an end.

Notes: Chapter title from "Pitch Dark" by Chelsea Jade. FYI: the playlist for this chapter is a banger. I'll post chapter 26 probably on Friday this week because I'm going to the WWWY festival in Vegas next weekend (pray for me I am very neurodivergent why am I doing this). I cannot belieeeeeeeeeve we're almost to the end of this story. I'm a proud mama. OK ANYWAY HERE YA GO!

[ Masterlist for Series ] [ Taglist ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

8734 177th Rd, Laredo, TX July 31, 1998

After you’re roused from sleep by creaking footsteps outside the closet door, and come out the other side of your subsequent full-body panic attack, Dan drags you out into the foyer again.

The foyer, with its dusty hardwood floors, and cobwebs, and fucking yellow wallpaper, and the woody ammonia mouse piss smell. Morning sun hits the other side of the house, making the vacant room all dim natural light and shadowy corners.

He deposits you in the same spot he did yesterday, his presence suspiciously neutral as he sits down facing you and takes the gag out of your mouth. You take a deep breath of air and choke on it, triggering a coughing fit. Fearing the metallic, rotten wad of fabric being stuffed in your mouth again, you gasp out, “Sorry- not- trying,” when your seizing lungs let you.

He pulls a chocolate chip granola bar out of his pants pocket and opens it, ignoring the coughing completely. You note that he’s in a clean set of clothes and is no longer covered in blood. On his skin and hair, though, faint red stains remain.

It reminds you of Halloween 1995, when you dressed up as a vampire. You bought a tube of fake blood for $1 at the local drug store to smear on your face for dramatic effect. The red dye was unforgiving and left your face tinged red for a week, no matter how hard you tried to scrub it off your skin.

Again, you wonder if it’s Javier’s blood. But unlike last night, the thought doesn’t make you spiral. Because something happened.

I hear you, cariño.

The words play on repeat in your head. In the midst of your good morning panic attack, you were praying to God or anybody, his voice cut through the fog, crystal clear. It perplexes you.

Dan pinches off a chunk of granola bar the size of a quarter and brings it to your lips. You open your mouth and grab it with your teeth, trying not to be too obvious about how hard you’re avoiding touching your lips to his fingers. Between bites, he tips a plastic water bottle to your lips and you take sips.

He gets up and retrieves something from behind you, then sits down, crossing his long legs in front of him as he sets a first aid kit on the floor between you. You flinch when his hands land on your shoulders. He doesn’t react to the involuntary movement, just murmurs, “I’m gonna remove the rope to clean your wounds. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Ok,” you exhale in a shaky breath and watch the wallpaper like you expect it to do something. He moves methodically, untying the knots around your ankles, then your wrists, then your shoulders. His blonde curtain bangs hang loosely in front of his face, swaying from side to side as he tends to you.

Steady hands crinkle the weak plastic of a disposable water bottle when he twists it open, then pours some water over the lacerations. He dabs them with paper towels in an attempt to clear the wounds of debris. The pop of a cap being pried open makes you flinch, then he advises gently, “This is going to sting,” before he pours rubbing alcohol on the wounds.

Sizzling, searing pain rips a howl from your hoarse throat, and, even though you try your damndest to sit still and work through the pain, your feet smack against the dusty hardwood floor with a mind of their own.

“I’m not trying,” you whimper when he stares at you with a clenched jaw, deep blue eyes drenched in annoyance at your outburst.

He shoulders soften as he sighs, “I know.”

The searing pain fizzles out to a faint sting. He applies goopy ointment, then wraps the wounds in gauze. Once the rope burns are cleaned and dressed, he moves you closer and has you face him so he can clean your split cheek. The first couple of times he reaches out to touch you, you flinch.

Eventually, though, the movements don’t seize your breath, and it feels... strangely intimate. He’s calm, face almost appearing sympathetic, when you whimper helplessly at the rubbing alcohol burn this time. It dawns on you that the man you’ve spent the last four years with is still there somewhere.

You try to make casual conversation like you have across the dining room table hundreds of times before, asking him, “How was softball?”

To your surprise, he responds to this with a shrug, “It was fine. Average, I guess. We played a scrimmage, went ‘n’ got some drinks at Cowboy Slim’s after.”

“How is your new glove working out for you?” your throat feels raw and bruised when you swallow hard, tiptoeing into the realm of non-violent interaction.

“Kinda sucks, not gonna lie,” he mutters as he tapes down the gauze on your face, “Still breaking it in. So pissed I lost my old one. That one was perfect, I had it for so long.”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring forward at the yellow-tinged wallpaper, “Sometimes you lose things and just… have to move on, you know? It’ll get better.”

He stops moving, and you can feel his eyes burning into your profile. Abruptly, he stands up, picking up the first aid kit, carrying it out of the room down the hallway.

You inhale sharply as you remember the unattended front door. As you saw when you were ushered into the foyer, you can’t be more than a dozen steps away from it. There are creaks at the back of the house as he rummages around for something.

He might not notice. How much of a head start could I get?

Before you can think twice, you clamor to your feet and turn around, taking a step towards the screen door. Your bare feet are silent as you take another quick step.

Then another. A few more. Each step gives you a fresh surge of adrenaline.

Two steps away.

One more. You’re so close.

When your fingers touch the door handle, a creak sounds from directly behind you, and you hear the metallic click of the safety being pulled back on a revolver. You freeze.

“If you move, I’ll shoot you right in the fuckin’ skull,” Dan growls from behind you, burying the barrel in your hair. The cold metal circle presses flush against your bruised scalp. Your heart thuds in your chest and your field of vision goes white with panic.

He speaks quiet and calm as he instructs you, “Put your hands up.”

You comply, extremities breaking out in tremors as you slowly raise both arms at your sides. One of his hands encloses your wrist.

“Unfucking believable,” he grunts as he puts the safety back on the handgun and the cold circle of death is pulled away from your head. He brings your hands down behind your back, securing them in place with a zip tie, making you wince as the plastic digs into your fresh bandages. You can’t decide if this is an upgrade from the rope or just a different kind of hell on earth.

“Do you have to use the bathroom?” he asks as he turns you around to face him. It was a mistake to try escaping. His features are shadowed again, steeped with fury.

You ponder his question briefly, taking inventory of bodily functions you’d been completely neglecting to monitor, then shake your head.

With this, he yanks on your arm, leading you back to the closet. When he opens the door, you step inside obediently. He closes it. Your legs shake when you try to squat down into a sitting position, and you end up toppling over backwards against the wall behind you.

With a groan, you shimmy your ass to the floor and accept this as your seat. You stare at the slit of light shining under the door. Thoughts bounce around your brain like it’s a pinball machine.

“Did you love him?”

You wonder whose blood was on Dan yesterday. The red stains on his skin and hair. Was it even blood?

“Well that was pretty fucking stupid, wasn’t it?”

You wonder if there’s anyone searching for you. If Claudia or your parents know you’ve been kidnapped. If your parents would even care.

Something tickles your face.

Probably a spider.

You wonder what the odds of surviving a black widow bite are.

A shudder runs down your spine as you remember the cold circle of a revolver pressed against your bruised scalp.

You wonder what the odds are of surviving a kidnapping are.

Probably about the same as a black widow bite.

Your thoughts take a sharp turn, and you remember that it’s Friday, then wonder when The X-Files will start airing on Friday nights again.

Will I ever find out what happened to Agent Fox Mulder’s sister? Will he and Scully ever kiss?

This summer, you wanted to see The X-Files movie, but it came out the same day as The Truman Show, which you wanted to see more.

What if, instead of spiraling into an existential crisis while teetering between tipsy and drunk from giant margaritas, you gabbed Javier’s ear off about the possibility of extraterrestrials?

He might not have witnessed you bearing your soul, spilling your guts across the table in front of him (I don’t want to have to gut you, too ) as you came to the realization that being with him was the first thing you did for yourself in a very long time. Would you have come to that conclusion if the two of you had seen a different movie?

In his car two weeks prior, he talked about how, back in 1993, he didn’t like to be around Michelle other than “the fucking, yeah. Not like you…“

“What do you mean not like me?”

“I like being around you.”

“I like being around you, too.”

And it’s clear to you then, that it doesn’t matter what movie you saw, or where you went, because it would have resulted in your breath on his, hot and pleading for him to fuck you. You could have done anything in life, and you would have ended up tangled together in bed, Javier playing with your hair as you write love notes onto his skin.

It’s kismet.

This thought brings you enough peace that the erratic pinball that is your stream of consciousness settles into a lull, and you close your eyes. Maybe just a little nap. It’s not like you have anything better to do.

—

The sound of the hardwood floor creaking outside the door wakes you.

You blink a few times before coming to grips with your surroundings, realizing you’re propped up in the corner of the closet, settling into the dust and spiderwebs. The door groans open, spilling sunshine into your enclosure, and you hum with relief as the (relatively) cool air hits your sweat-drenched skin. You’re groggy and delirious when Dan asks, “Do you have to use the bathroom?”

You take a bodily inventory and determine that: yes, for the first time in probably 24 hours, you have to pee.

When you nod, Dan hoists you up and folds you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then starts carrying you down the hallway in a direction you haven’t been yet. Your head is spinning, dazed, like you’re in a dream.

He comes to a stop and lowers your feet to the ground. You think he does, anyway.

Your feet are numb phantoms, but you’re upright and semi-stable. The muscles you can feel scream in protest. You roll your head on your shoulders to squint and find Dan’s face, and when you do, he has a mask on again. Neutral as he guides you backwards through the threshold of a room, until the backs of your knees press up against cold porcelain.

He lowers you down onto a toilet seat, then pulls your shorts down until they meet the zip tie at your ankles. The big, shiny, red button gifted to you from the crows slips out of your pocket and clatters onto the ground.

You swear you can hear cawing.

Your face falls and you frown, voice coming out in croaks like your vocal chords are shards of glass, “Oh no, I didn’t feed the crows today.”

He says nothing.

You expect him to leave, or at least fucking turn around to give you some privacy, but he kneels down in front of you, one hand helping keep you steady as you weave back and forth, pulled by the weight of your spinning head. It’s not until your body releases a stream of piss you realize his other hand is in the toilet bowl.

He’s giving me a pregnancy test.

Not able to emote yourself properly in your delirium, you scrunch your face up and shake your head, asking with curiosity in a hoarse whisper, “Why?”

“You’re not fucking leaving here until I know whether or not you’ve been knocked up,” he growls.

That’s gonna be a problem.

—

Middle of Fucking Nowhere, Laredo, TX July 31, 1998

Someone broke the news of your disappearance to the media. Probably some fucking blabbermouth. Javier knows it’s bad when he finds himself pushing his way through throngs of people as they gather around the established perimeter.

As he reaches the blaring yellow crime scene tape, he scans the area for Detective Anderson. A petite blonde woman in a neat, fitted pantsuit widens her eyes as she spots him walking up beside her, then lays her hand on his forearm as she asks, “Excuse me, are you Javier Peña?”

This catches him by surprise.

He turns to face her and takes a step back, surveying her short stature as he answers, “Yes.”

He shouldn’t have answered.

“Do you have anything to say about the photos of you and the missing woman?” she questions, pulling a pen and a pocket notebook out of her smart navy blazer.

“No,” he snaps as he turns away to face the blocked off crime scene. He picks out Detective Anderson standing at the back of a cop car, hovering over a map, marking things off with a dull pencil as he talks to a few other law enforcement officials.

“Do you feel responsible for her abduction?” the woman questions next. Javi can feel the heat rising to his head.

The fucking balls on these people.

He steps over the crime scene tape and approaches Detective Anderson. Greg follows his lead, holding the list of empty properties under his damp armpit, while Claudia stays behind the barrier to shoot daggers at the blonde news reporter.

The Webb County Sheriff looks up from the map and nods at Javi. Anderson follows his gaze, then waves Javi and Greg over. They make room around the map for the newcomers.

“Sorry about the circus,” Anderson grumbles sideways to Javi, then clears his throat, “No blood in the car as far as we can tell, so we’re working under the assumption that she’s still alive. Organizing a search of these areas here,” he taps the eraser of his pencil to the areas circled on the map.

He starts dictating specifics about who he wants where, and the men nod as they listen along diligently.

Greg looks over the map, then flips through his papers, cross-examining the two documents. He prods the map in two specific areas with his sausage fingers, explaining, “We searched the empty properties here earlier today and didn’t find anything,” then points to two other spots, “These two haven’t been cleared yet, we can go check 'em out if y’all haven’t already.”

“Fine by me,” Anderson nods, which surprises Javier.

With this, Greg and Javi double back towards Greg’s truck. Anderson catches up with them, tapping Javi on the shoulder. Javi stops and turns to the detective, who instructs, “If you find anything, call right away and we’ll be there in a jiffy. Especially if you find the suspect. Don’t confront him. We don’t want any bloodshed.”

Javi’s mouth forms a flat line and he nods, “You got it.”

He doesn't mean it.

—

The two properties in question are on the same country road, about a mile away from each other and where Dan’s car was abandoned, forming an equilateral triangle on the map. Greg parks at the mid-point of the subject properties at Javier’s suggestion to approach with stealth, not come roaring down the driveway in a pickup truck. He wants to get you out alive. If you're not already dead.

“No blood in the car as far as we can tell, so we’re working under the assumption that she’s still alive.”

There’s hope. He’s been tortured by the unknown for the past 26 hours. The notion that he spent a decade avoiding serious relationships while in Columbia, only to come home, fall in love, and have her ripped away, is driving him fucking mad.

Javier’s hands shake as he lights a cigarette and their ragtag search party of 3 starts off towards the first house. The gravel road crunches and stirs dust up under their steps. He wipes beads of sweat off his forehead with back of his hand and grimaces at the sun that’s beating down on them.

Claudia glances to the cigarette clamped between Javi’s index and middle finger, “Can I have one?”

“I didn’t know you smoked,” he comments as he digs the pack out of his back pocket and holds it out to her. She plucks one out and presses it between her lips. Javi flicks his shiny silver butane lighter ablaze, holding fire to the end of the cigarette.

She inhales deeply, then exhales a plume of blue smoke, “I quit when I was pregnant with Michael, but my nerves are fucking shot. I need it.”

Javi nods in understanding, taking a drag, then tells Claudia, “I tried quitting a few years ago, but I couldn’t stick to it.”

“It’s fucking hard. If I didn’t have that motivation, I’d probably still be a pack-a-day smoker,” she scoffs.

“I think I’m going to try to quit again,” Javi announces.

“Yeah?”

“With the baby and all. I don’t want this shit around the kid,” he tilts his head and considers something he never had previously, “Plus, I should probably try to stick around for them as long as I can. Don’t want lung cancer to take me out at 50.”

A toothy grin spreads across Claudia’s face and she nods, “How are you feeling about it? Being a dad?”

The acid that was previously at a simmer in his stomach shoots up in his throat at a full boil. He clears his throat to lessen the feeling, then admits, “Fucking terrified. What if I’m not… I don’t know, good at it?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret: Nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing when they become a parent,” Claudia chuckles, taking a puff off the cigarette, “You’ll do great, I know it.”

Javier takes a drag off his cigarette. His eyebrows press together as he asks her, “How do you know?”

“Javi, look at what we’re doing right now. All you’ve done in the past day,” Claudia gives him a reassuring smile, “There’s nothing you won’t do to make sure your family is safe.”

Although he doesn’t point out that it was his own ignorance that put you in danger in the first place, he supposes she’s right. You’re part of his family, and he won’t find peace until you’re home with him.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and one corner of his mouth upturns.

—

The first house was a bust.

While they did find approximately 17 feral cats in the barn, there were no humans in sight. The search party is silent on their route to the second house. Claudia and Greg shoot concerned glances back and forth, eyeing Javi from behind as he blazes ahead of them.

Javier ignores the fatigue settling in his bones and the burning in his calves as he quickens his pace. There’s a decent chance you’re at this next place. He remembers what you looked like in his dream. Beaten to shit.

What if you’re not there? Or worse, what if he’s too late? Would he be able to live with that guilt?

When the 8734 mailbox comes into view, he goes from a brisk walk to a jog. The driveway is long, winding back from the road a quarter of a mile, Javi estimates. Claudia and Greg catch up to him when he stops and crouches down upon hearing crows cawing. He thinks he sees a pair of fat, black bird loitering in front of the run-down rambler.

“She’s here,” he tells them, squinting up at the home, once again cursing himself for not seeing a fucking optometrist.

Greg crouches down further, “Do you see them?”

“No,” answers Javier as he pulls out his pistol to verify it’s locked and loaded, “Crows.”

While Claudia nods knowingly, Greg tilts his head and furrows his brow, “Crows?”

“Just trust me,” Javi sighs, then looks between Claudia and Greg, “Ready?”

—

Dan pulls you to your feet and steadies you against the sink as he tugs your shorts up over your thighs, sticky with sweat and streaked with dirt. He doesn’t button them, just shimmies them up to your waist and then hoists your dead weight over his shoulder again, carrying you into the adjoining room.

Without warning, he tosses you onto the floor like a rag doll.

Your back hits the dusty hardwood floor and the wind is knocked out of you. The ceiling is spinning above you. You’re gulping for air like a fish out of water, only able to rock from side to side as you try to curl into a protective ball and suck in air at the same time.

Your clamp your eyes shut and spin in the darkness.

When you open them, he’s standing over you, head spiraling like you’re being flushed down a toilet drain. He pulls you up to your knees by the zip tie around your wrists, and you don’t even feel it cutting into your swollen hands. The spinning slows and you’re able to take a broken breath in, out, slowly, his face centers and stills in your vision.

“You fucking bitch. I would have given you everything ,” his eyes bore into you, darker by the second, and you meet his stare with your own, trying to muster the illusion of bravery. He holds his hands to your shoulders to ensure you don’t topple over.

Then they come up to your throat.

As you realize what he’s doing, you scream and try to get away, only falling backwards for a moment before he catches you, spindly fingers wrapping around your neck. He squeezes down and holds you suspended. You wheeze when you try to breathe around his grip. A smile creeps across his stone face and he clamps harder.

Panic.

Telling you he loved you in the park. Making out in the photo booth.

Can’t breathe.

Hand resting on your bare leg, fingers drawing sweet nothings onto your skin. Playing with your hair.

No noises, no airflow.

Kissing your knotted wrist that was once a gaping wound.

You try in vain to rip yourself away.

Can’t move.

His lips against yours. Silky dark hair your fingers comb through. The slope of his nose. Dimpled smile. Bedsheets that smell like the love of your life. Puppy dog eyes.

Buzzing in your ears.

“I hear you, cariño.”

Sizzling. Ringing. Popping.

In a tunnel, all you can see so far away, surrounded by black.

Flashes of people you love: Grandma, brothers, Claudia, Javier. Jellybean.

Energy drains from your body and you feel your eyes start to flutter shut, even though you can’t see anything anyway.

-BANG-

You fall onto the ground, collapsing in a heap, gasping for air. Choking. Coughing. Your arm is wet and sticky and scarlet.

It’s blood.

You search frantically for its source, then see Dan.

He’s laying the floor, staring at you. You’re gasping for air, heartbeat exploding in your chest, trying to kick yourself away from him and the impossibly dark red circle expanding around him.

His blonde hair is a gushing, black, viscous spring. A waterfall of it spills down across his face. Pooling the darkest red in his mouth, gaping wide. Streaming over his open, vacant eyes. Not vacant like they were before.

No, this time, they’re vacant as in dead.

You scream but it’s silent and sets your throat on fire.

Just the whistle-high pitch like a teakettle that’s almost ready to pour. Then there are hands on your body, pulling you away from the pool of blood. You buck away from the contact in a frenzy of confusion.

The grip anchors in your shoulders and shakes you.

Your whole body goes numb and your ears start ringing. Because you see him then.

He’s wearing a gray polo shirt, hair wild and flying in all different directions, just like the last time you saw him. It feels like a lifetime ago. Dashingly handsome, looking more terrified than you’ve ever seen him.

Javi. Holy shit it’s him.

Your ears come out of the tunnel and tune into earth, and you hear him saying your name, mumbling, “Baby it’s ok, I’m here, I’m here, I got you, it’s ok.”

Someone else cuts the zip ties on your wrists and ankles, and you throw your arms around him weakly. He pulls you in, burying his face in your neck, hugging around your chest so tight, you start to cough again.

“Fuck, sorry,” he gasps, then he lowers to the floor and pulls you onto his lap, stroking your dirty, blood-soaked hair. Your body wracks with sobs when it dawns on you that this is real.

It’s real. He’s here. He’s alive. You’re alive.

He cradles you in his arms and yells at Greg to call an ambulance. You inhale the musk of his sweat and curl into him as your body heaves. His lips on your forehead, promising, “You’re ok, you’re safe now.”

[ Next Chapter ]

[queer-crip-grows]

Finally managed to get my straw substrate sterilised in the microwave and innoculated with blue-grey oyster mushroom spawn.

Hopefully this method is effective, because it was pleasantly quick and simple compared to every other sterilisation method I’ve tried!

I’ve used two different containers to see which is more effective - one plastic mushroom container (thoroughly washed ofc) in a compostable doggy bag to help keep the substrate moist, and one (thoroughly washed) plastic milk bottle with holes punched in the side for fruiting bodies to grow through.

They’re in my bedroom cupboard atm which is dark and warm, and I will be spritzing with warm water regularly to keep them moist. Fingers crossed!

[waywardstation]

Bubbly

Ingo gets the hiccups. Akari knows how to get rid of them, even if her methods are a bit unorthodox.

I wrote this after getting two requests to write Akari helping Ingo cure a case of the hiccups. One was from a LONG time ago, but I got another request for it recently, (maybe same anon haha) so I wrote a drabble for it! Also used some requests to do something with the snacktime AU.

OR read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

————

Akari sat still on the dojo’s bench, her hand held in a snack bag, mid-grab for a handful of chips as she stared at Ingo. Waiting with amused anticipation.

The warden was stationed next to her on the bench, his shoulders braced and his posture stiff. He gripped the half-empty soda bottle in his hand tightly. Waiting with dread.

Hic!

“There it is again!” Grinning mouth full of chips, Akari pointed at him, accusatory.

Ingo groaned as she laughed, before another spasm in his diaphragm interrupted it with a third loud hiccup - quite the funny sound, coming from him.

Of course this would happen right before he'd have to resume working again. Akari needed to stop bringing him all this junky stuff at the tail end of his lunch breaks at the dojo. However, it was perhaps his fault he had accepted the soda from her - the fact it had bubbled when he first screwed the cap open should have been warning enough.

To be fair though, he hadn’t quite remembered his disposition on the carbonated drink at first. The design of the plastic bottle had only given him some faint ripples of remembrance (as most of these things did - the biggest reason as to why Akari brought him all these things to share with him in the first place).

The first swig had almost been spit out at the unappealing bubbly sensation overwhelming the sweet flavoring, and Ingo choked it down - he did not like that at all.

“Do you not like it?” Akari had asked when she had popped a bag open, surprised at his reaction - the junk sometimes brought rather random memories back. “Or did you just remember something?”

“Both tracks - what carbonation is, and that I don’t hold much appreciation for it.” Ingo had wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling some of the fizz in his nose.

Even more unpleasant was how the bothersome bubbling didn’t entirely settle under his ribcage. Instead, it had kept irritating him, until the first loud-

Hic!

Another jolt in his diaphragm. Another strange sound out of him, and another round of laughter out of Akari.

“Apologies,” Ingo squeezed out right before yet another hiccup could interrupt. Such an improper sound-

“You aren’t supposed to drink soda fast like that!” The situation was clearly amusing to Akari, who had completely forgotten about the chip bag in her hand.

“It was not int- hic! -intentional.” A hand pressed below his sternum as he leaned forward.

“Ok, ok, wait-“ Akari worked herself down from her laughter, dusting the chip crumbs off herself as she stood up. “My friends and I did this at home and it always worked. First, you do a handstand. Then, you-“

“I ah, really only need some- hic! -some water,” Ingo leaned forward to look around Akari - in the middle of attempting a handstand against the side of the dojo - and see if by any small chance, she had a plain water bottle in the junk stash next to her. He was not going to do a handstand. “Before Miss Zisu returns b- hic! -back.”

Oh, if Zisu heard him making sounds like this-

“No water, but…” Akari grounded herself back on her feet to root through the stash, pulling out a green bottle with a leppa berry on it. She held it out to him. “Is juice fine?”

“It’s effect- hic! -tive,” Ingo sucked in a breath as he took the bottle and unscrewed the cap. He quickly gulped the contents down, before setting the empty bottle to the side to wait.

It took all of about two seconds for another hic! to bounce in his chest. Not effective at all.

“Sometimes I’d drink something while doing a handstand,” Akari immediately offered her alternative again as Ingo finally stood up with her, taking another deep breath around the bubble in his diaphragm.

Ingo suspected she just wanted to see him do a handstand. “That does not sound like it follows safety regulations - hic!”

An incredibly loud hiccup pushed him to reconsider. His hand pressed back into his diaphragm.

“All it takes is like fifteen seconds upside down,” Akari tried to persuade him. “Or, you could try holding your breath over the next hour in between battles, until it goes away on its own.”

Holding his breath was his next idea, but the thought of trying to get through a battle with a case of aggressive hiccups was enough to make Ingo cave… almost.

“Surely, th- hic! -there are other methods that are less ex- hic! -extreme.”

“Hmm…” Akari thought for a moment, looking at him with a contemplative look on her face until a glint of an idea overshadowed it. “Well, there is another one, and it always works… you just have to close your eyes, and name every bug-type Pokémon you can think of.”

“That’s it?” The disbelief was palpable in Ingo’s voice. Surely not… “Miss Akari, I’m not sure I see the solution in th- hic! -this method.”

“It works! Trust me!” Akari “It’s either this, or the handstand!”

Ingo got halfway through a sigh before another spasm choked it. “…if you’re positive.”

Anything was better than a handstand.

————

Zisu was on her way back from the Wallflower, approaching the dojo. A group of the village kids were scheduled for a battle with herself and Ingo right at the end of their lunch break, so she hoped Ingo was already back and prepared.

However, passing through the gates, she could see Ingo standing by the bench with his eyes closed, reciting… Pokemon?

“Cascoon… Dustox… Beau- hic! -Beautifly… Paras… ”

…and Akari was behind him, holding up one of her wurmple from the pasture like she was about to drop it down the back of his coat. Upon seeing Zisu, she silently but vigorously shook her head no and put a finger to her mouth for silence, discouraging Zisu from saying anything to disrupt.