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complete-in-ix · 2 months

Text

Arf! Arf!

Rating: E

Warning(s): Explicit sexual content, dom/sub, heavy petplay, hypnokink in the form of modified clicker training (snapping instead of a clicker tool), praise kink, strap-ons, oral sex, dacryphilia, cock stepping, mild degradation kink, spit as lube, minor masochism, no prep because I forgot to write it in ✌️🤪, anal sex, barebacking, oral fixation, spanking, come marking, breeding kink, knotting, come eating, cunnilingus, slight scent kink, leg humping, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation. Also trans Sumin and pathetic down atrocious puppy sub Jinsik because I'm a pathetic down atrocious trans puppy sub and I say so.

Description: Jinsik thinks that he has it in him to be bratty. Sumin welcomes him to try.

(Read on AO3)

All is silent in the xikers dorms. Today is a rare day off now that Red Sun promotions are over, so the members have decided to spend it accordingly. Minjae and Yechan have gone off to the studio, Junmin and Hunter are in the practice room helping Hyunwoo sharpen his dance skills, Seeun has dragged Yujun out with their manager for a day hitting the malls, and Junghoon is at another rehab appointment. This just leaves the two lovebirds Sumin and Jinsik together in the dorm for some long-awaited alone time.

Their morning was spent curled in each other’s arms, the ever-disciplined Sumin slipping into Jinsik's room and bed as soon as his usual morning alarm had gone off. Jinsik had turned his own alarm off the night before, so they got to sleep in and dream of each other until almost noon. Sumin had made brunch for them after they woke up, and they ate together before going out for a walk around town.

They’ve since returned home and are nestled on the couch together, enjoying the silence and each other’s company… Until Jinsik breaks the silence.

"You know yeobo, I'm starting to get a little tired of always having to obey you."

Sumin's hand doesn't stop petting Jinsik's hair, nor does Jinsik lift his head out of Sumin's lap. Jinsik does, however, roll over just a little so he can look Sumin in the eye. He's met with a casual raised eyebrow.

"Do you mean in general or in bed?" Sumin is calm as ever. That's what Jinsik loves about him, he never escalates based on assumptions, always talks things out until they're clear with him. Jinsik is so lucky.

"In bed," Jinsik answers. He schools his face into a pout despite how much he wants to smile instead; he has to show Sumin that he's serious, after all! "I know we both feel good when I listen to you, but I'd like to take control for once. I bet I could make you beg for me just like I do for you." He finally lets himself smile at that. The mental image has been haunting him for weeks now; Sumin spread out on his bed, aching and begging for Jinsik to give him some relief. He wouldn't even need his cock to please Sumin, he knows the effect that just the sight of his tongue has on him! His train of thought is interrupted by a soft huff of laughter from Sumin.

"I'm sure you could, jagiya." Sumin yields to him far too easily, like he's watching a cute puppy trying to unlock a gate. Jinsik ignores how that nonchalant attitude strikes up an almost desperate heat in his gut. Both of them know that Jinsik is the strongest member without even having to work out. He could easily overpower Sumin and take whatever he wants from him. He just needs to take the initiative.

"Yeah, I could, so I will!" Jinsik declares, hammering in his point by brushing Sumin's hand aside and shoving him down so he's lying across the couch. Yet again, he goes down far too easily—with a smile, even—and even more frustratingly, doesn't shift his hips up to help Jinsik drag down his loose sweatpants. He quickly finds out why when his fingers catch on something on the way down and he's met with the sight of a very familiar black harness. It stops Jinsik in his tracks. It's been a while since they did anything past kissing in general, but even longer since Sumin has last worn that for him. The spark of heat in his gut blazes up into a wildfire.

"Still going to make me beg, pup?' Jinsik's brain is too busy leaking out of his ears to formulate a response to Sumin's teasing, let alone resist that all-too-fitting petname. He backs off as Sumin sits back up; can't—won't—touch him without permission. He thinks he shakes his head, he really can't tell if he did with how entranced he is at the sight of Sumin's strap. "Sit," Sumin commands with a snap of his fingers, and Jinsik bolts to the floor where he's pointing so fast that his knees bruise. The pain is nothing, losing his attempt at dominance is nothing, all he can focus on is Sumin's smiling face above him where he belongs. Sumin snaps again. "Speak."

"Woof!"

"Good boy~" Sumin cups his cheek with one hand, ruffles his hair with the other, and Jinsik is up so high that he can almost forget the throbbing need between his legs. "I'll forgive you if you bring my cock over here, pup. Can you do that for me?"

Jinsik nods so frantically that he almost bites his own tongue. Forgiveness, Sumin's cock, helping his master... He's a greedy pup, he wants it all.

"Such a sweet pup that I have~" Sumin coos, and Jinsik whimpers. "Now, you remember what pups don't do, right?"

Jinsik nods again; pups don't walk on two legs, pups don't use their hands, pups don't talk, pups don’t forget that the safeword is "Roady".

"Good boy, you're so smart!" Sumin praises, lightly shaking Jinsik's head around. Cuteness aggression, because Jinsik is a cute pup just for him. "I left it in my bag, now go fetch!"

Jinsik takes off on all fours almost before the command is finalized with a third snap of Sumin’s fingers. Not actually before, though, just almost. He's Sumin's good pup, he won't let him down. He finds Sumin's bag easily, it being just on the other chair next to the couch, and unzips it just as easily with his teeth. He sort of wishes that Sumin would wear sweatpants less often so he could open some other kind of zipper with his teeth… He shakes the thought out of his head; that's a conversation for another day. It only takes a little bit of messy pawing around inside the bag—his fingers carefully curled up so he doesn't break the rules—for him to find Sumin's cock; a long, thick, knotted green monstrosity—Minjae's words, not his (everyone now knows to never open Sumin's mail for him)—that makes Jinsik's jaw ache as he takes it into his mouth. He's already drooling around it as he trots back to Sumin and it's not even properly inside his mouth yet.

"'Good boy~" Sumin purrs upon his return. "You're so sweet, I've forgotten what I was about to punish you for" he says with an exaggerated pout as he takes his cock from his mouth. "That would have been mean of me to punish you for no reason, now wouldn't it? How about a treat instead?" Jinsik lights up even brighter than he had been before; if he had a tail, it would be wagging so hard that his whole body would be shaking.

"Woof!" He emphasizes his approving bark with a play-bow, ass up and chest so low that his shirt slides down to reveal his narrow waist. Perfect for Sumin to grab, right? Perfect to hold him in place with, right? He hopes he can convey his pleading with just his face, turned up towards Sumin at an angle that makes his neck hurt.

"Ooh, someone's eager~" Sumin teases as he kicks off his sweatpants. He has to take off the harness to put his strap-on together properly, shifting his hips up and—oh. He hadn't been wearing anything else other than that. He's also dripping, tdick standing red and proud and shining with slick. Jinsik's mouth floods with drool that he doesn't even bother to swallow down. He's been promised a treat, he can slobber for it as much as he wants! He can't help but whimper when Sumin clasps his strap back on and obscures Jinsik's view. "Naughty pup," Sumin chides, "were you hoping to get two treats?"

Jinsik's metaphorical tail stills its wagging. Could he? He averts his gaze from Sumin's cock to his eyes, chest prickling with shame. Sumin's face breaks from a playfully offended look into a smile.

"I know this is going to spoil you too much for your own good, but I'm doing it anyway," he sighs. “Come here.” Jinsik obeys, straightening up from his bow to rest his head in Sumin’s waiting hand. Sumin cradles him so gently as he shifts forward until Jinsik goes cross-eyed staring at his cock. "Cute,” he coos. He snaps with his free hand. It's quieter than the one he usually uses, but it's just as hypnotizing to Jinsik. “Get this nice and wet for me to fuck you with, and then you can taste the other one.” Jinsik doesn’t have to be told twice!

He opens wide for Sumin to shove his cock inside; waits like a good pup for that wonderfully mind-numbing weight on his tongue instead of taking it for himself. Sumin pulls him down by the hair, totally uncaring if Jinsik chokes or gags. Why would he care about something that won’t happen, after all? Jinsik’s mouth is deep enough that they wouldn’t have to worry about his gag reflex even if he had one. His eyes still water beyond belief despite this, spilling over as they roll back in his head. He chases the taste of his own tears as they mix with his spit on Sumin's cock; cis dick is apparently salty sometimes, so this must be an approximation of how Sumin feels when sucking Jinsik off. It feels like the fucking dream.

“Such a good boy—fuck—I bet you’re leaking already,” Sumin curses, though Jinsik can hardly hear him over his own lewd slurping and muffled whimpers. He's hardly getting any time to breathe between thrusts, the back of his throat getting bullied into what he knows will get him a scolding from his vocal coach. Just the way he likes it. Sumin hooks a leg around his back and drags him closer until Jinsik has to brace his hands—still curled into paws—on Sumin's thighs for stability. He's leaking just like Sumin had predicted, has been leaking for a decent while by now. It's only just started to soak into his pants, wet and slick but still somehow sticky and fuck does it get to his head when coupled with the sting in his scalp. He wants—needs—to get off, so hard that he’s dizzy, would still be dizzy even if Sumin wasn’t fucking his throat like this. He’s rough enough that Jinsik can’t take his hands off his thighs to rut against them. A fresh wave of tears sting Jinsik’s eyes at the realization; usually Sumin gives him at least something! Then again, the leg that isn’t still hooked around his waist is right there, within Jinsik’s reach… The thought has Jinsik moaning around Sumin’s cock. It would be so dirty, so degrading to use Sumin like this; what kind of untrained, vulgar pup would he be to hump his master’s leg just for his own pleasure? He’ll be punished for it for sure… But the temptation is too appealing. He does his best to be subtle, make it look like he’s just scooting over to get comfortable—

—only for Sumin to lift up his heel and bring it down directly onto his cock. Not hard, thank fuck, but still with enough force to make Jinsik see stars.

“Naughty pup,” Sumin scolds. He drags Jinsik off his cock as if to add to his punishment. Jinsik gasps out a ragged moan, tears and drool flowing freely down his face. “Your desperation is so obvious, it's kind of pathetic.” He grinds his heel just a tiny bit harder against Jinsik’s throbbing arousal and Jinsik can only moan and whine, weak to the pleasure-pain that only Sumin can give to him.

He could come just like this, he realizes, even though this is new for both of them. Would Sumin let him, just this once?

“Then again, I think I've strung you out for long enough. We'll talk about it later for next time, okay?” Jinsik whimpers in protest but nods anyway. Sumin is right, it’s better to wait and talk than risk a meltdown by pushing through. “Up.”

Sumin snaps his fingers again and Jinsik drags himself back onto the couch in an instant. The movement finally draws his attention to how damp he’s gotten, his sweat sticking his shirt to him and his pants sticky with precum.

“Aww, poor pup~” Sumin coos when Jinsik whines. “Getting too hot there, aren't you?” He nods and Sumin snaps. “Paws up.” Jinsik obeys as soon as he’s stable on the couch, putting his arms up for Sumin to take off his shirt, and then falls back against the cushions and lifts his hips so Sumin can take off his pants and underwear. He can’t hold back his groan of relief when his skin is exposed to the air, head spinning too much to even be flustered at the exposure even when Sumin is raking his eyes over his body like he wants to devour him. “Fuck, you're so sexy,” he growls. “Do you have any idea how much I envy you? You don't even have to work for it, and your body is like this.” Sumin’s words are punctuated by his hands sliding up Jinsik’s sides, squeezing at his narrow waist and pressing him into the couch until his thumbs brush his nipples. Jinsik arches into the touch. “You're so sensitive, too~” Sumin pinches him, hard, and Jinsik yelps and tries to squirm out of his reach, but his cock—aching and red and leaking all over his stomach—jumps and gives him away. He never would have guessed that Sumin could turn him into such a masochist. Love does funny things. “Cute. I can't decide if I want to play with you or be inside you.” Jinsik whines in complaint; he needs Sumin inside him, now! Hasn’t he done all that he was supposed to? “Okay, okay, enough playing. Turn around.” Jinsik’s metaphorical tail gets right back to madly wagging as soon as their legs are untangled enough for him to obey.

He presents just the way Sumin likes it; ass up, back arched, face pressed into the cushions. He gets a reverent hand tracing down his spine for his efforts that has him shivering. Sumin's touch is always so warm, so loving even when he’s punishing Jinsik. So gentle unlike the rough prod of his cock against his hole.

“Remember to breathe, pup.” Is all the warning he gets before Sumin pushes his way inside; his unforgiving girth punching the breath out of his lungs and splitting him open with only Jinsik’s spit to ease the sting.

“You like that, pup?” Sumin asks when Jinsik cries out. He slows down his less-than-gentle entrance for just a moment, pulling out slightly and returning to shove a pillow—now encased with Jinsik’s discarded shirt—under his hips. The rough, scratchy friction against his leaky cock borders on painful, yet he can’t stop himself from rutting against it; forward onto the pillow, backward onto Sumin’s cock, over and over until the pain blooms into pleasure. “This is easier than I thought it would be,” Sumin muses, one hand gripping Jinsik’s waist to steady him. “Have you been touching yourself when I’m not around?”

Jinsik muffles a broken whine into the couch cushions. Caught.

“Come on, pup. Answer me clearly.” Sumin’s voice takes on an authoritative edge. The hand on his waist tightens hard enough to bruise, while the other snakes around his throat to pull him up. “You’re allowed to talk just this once,” he teases, only to hook two fingers into Jinsik’s mouth. “I mean, if you can~” he adds when Jinsik chokes on a moan. Jinsik decides not to answer right away. The pressure of Sumin’s fingers on his tongue is just too good to resist closing his mouth around them and sucking, circling his tongue around the thick digits until his mind goes blissfully blank. The sound of it all is filthy; Jinsik’s muffled whimpers between his lewd slurping and the creak of the couch springs beneath him as Sumin fucks his way inside. Jinsik can’t get enough.

“Such a needy pup, always wanting something to suck on,” Sumin huffs. He drags his fingers out of Jinsik’s mouth and lightly slaps him across the face with them, leaving a wet streak behind. “Come on, pup. I still need an answer.” He snaps his fingers again. “Speak.”

“Yuh—yeah, I have been,” Jinsik slurs. It's so hard to form words after not needed to for so long; the motions of his jaw and tongue now unfamiliar to him. “Jus’ missed y’so much, need somethin’ in me, need y’to fuck me, please, please!” He twists around to face Sumin properly—beg him properly. “Jus’ move already, ‘ll be fine.”

Sumin shoves his face back into the cushions. The new angle makes it hard to breathe with the way it restricts his throat; then again it could also be how deep Sumin reaches inside now. He’s almost bottomed out completely with just the knot left to shove its way in. He needs it all; needs it deeper, harder.

“Such a greedy pup,” Sumin sighs. “No more talking,” he adds with a resounding slap to Jinsik’s ass. It stings so good that his eyes are spilling over again, fresh tear tracks running down his ruddy face. Jinsik obeys and lets his verbal processing skills melt away to blissed-out moans and whimpers. He’s much more comfortable this way, incoming crick in his neck aside. “You just want to be broken and bred, don’t you?” Sumin’s filthy words are paired with the rough drag of his cock against Jinsik’s walls, pulling out halfway and slamming back in.

(Yes!) he wants to say, (Yes, please, breed me, stuff me full, give me your puppies!) He's already been freed from the burden of speaking, though, so he's reduced to just the animalistic moans that Sumin fucks out of him at a brutal pace. Sumin likes that, but he doesn’t understand them, so Jinsik rocks backwards and meets his thrusts as hard as he can manage. His cock ruts harshly into the pillow no matter what direction he goes in and it makes him feel so trapped, so dirty, so used. Just like it should be.

“Good boy,” Sumin growls. “Such an obedient pup for me, my perfect little slut. Gonna knot you, knock you up with so many puppies. Fill out this pretty figure of yours.” His hand digs a bruise into Jinsik’s waist and Jinsik positively wails. The thought of his slender body growing wide and rounding out around Sumin’s children—impossible as they would be—after this is absolutely dizzying; he wants it, needs it. “Want my knot, pup?” Jinsik does his best to nod from his place shoved against the couch. Sumin’s smile—even though it's blurred with tears—couldn’t possibly be more beautiful. He finally releases his grip on Jinsik’s head and thrusts his fingers into his face. A familiar snap brings Jinsik’s brain back into focus. “Kiss.”

Jinsik presses his lips against Sumin’s fingers in the best approximation that he can manage in his ruined state. Sumin huffs out a laugh, gentle fingers wiping Jinsik’s drool off his lips.

“Sweet boy,” Sumin sighs. “Not that kind.” Jinsik blinks his bleary eyes up at him in confusion until he snaps again. “How do pups kiss?” Oh, right. Pups don’t kiss like people. He scrambles to correct his mistake, curling his tongue around Sumin’s fingers and lapping at them until they’re shining with spit. “That’s better.” Jinsik’s focus fizzles back into blissful nothing at Sumin's praise. This is all he needs to function, just Sumin’s guiding hand, Sumin’s voice in his ear, Sumin commanding his every movement, Sumin, Sumin, Sumi—

His muted thoughts shatter into white-hot pleasure when Sumin’s slick fingers wrap around his cock. He muffles a cry into the couch as Sumin jerks him off; fast and hard to make up for his thrusts starting to slow down. It’s a welcome change from the pillow under his hips, which has gone from scratchy to borderline chafing over the course of this rough mating.

“Good boy,” Sumin groans over Jinsik’s sobbing moans. “Such a good pup for me.” His hand speeds up and Jinsik nearly collapses, held up only by Sumin’s grip on his waist. “Getting close?” Sumin really doesn’t need to ask. He’s ruined Jinsik enough times that he can tell just by how his cock twitches in his grasp. “You’re so easy,” he purrs. The hand around Jinsik’s waist releases him just for a moment, and with one last snap of his fingers;

“Come.”

Jinsik obeys instantly with a howling moan, so hard he nearly whites out. Sumin’s knot pops into place right against his prostate and sends sparks down his spine with every twitch of his body; all the more stimulation that's rapidly building up to be almost too much. Sumin doesn't let him get away; his hips still grinding his knot into him and his hand milking him for all he’s worth until he’s sobbing and trembling. He’s helpless to do anything other than take what Sumin gives him, until he’s choking on his sobs, until Sumin’s hand and the pillow underneath him—bless Sumin’s foresight to cover it with his shirt—are drenched in white, until the waves of his orgasm start to ebb into painful aftershocks. Sumin releases his cock with one final tug and spanks him just to make him squeal, no doubt leaving a white streak behind. Marking him. The thought makes his spent cock stir again, though he’s far too boneless to do anything about it at the moment. He only vaguely registers Sumin’s hand disappearing to drag the pillow out from under him. There’s a rustle of fabric and the pillow—now stripped of the shirt that had been covering it and mostly clean of any evidence—thumps onto the couch next to Jinsik’s head and his shirt is tossed into an inside-out heap on the floor.

“Fuck,” Sumin hisses under his breath. Jinsik makes some kind of quizzical bleating noise in response; he knows something hasn’t gone right but is still too fucked-out to really process it. “It’s nothing that bad, don’t worry,” Sumin reassures with a gentle hand on Jinsik’s back, “you’re just a messy pup. There's cum on the couch.” Fuck, indeed. Jinsik faintly wonders if Sumin will command him to lick it off. He’s done that before after fucking him against his desk, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he did it again. Jinsik wouldn’t mind. Good pups do what they’re told. Jinsik doesn't hear any snap or command though, just the faint tinkering of Sumin taking off his cock. His strength has returned enough for him to turn around and give Sumin a questioning look. “Pretty pup.” Sumin pauses his unstrapping and reaches out with his clean hand to wipe Jinsik’s tears away. “Normally I would tell you to clean up your mess, but this is a shared couch and I'd rather not get your tongue on it before it goes inside me. I’ll take care of it this time.” Jinsik lights up.

“Woof!” His tongue hangs out from between his teeth in his anticipation, and he starts to squirm and paw at Sumin, impatient for him to free himself and give him his second treat. The movement tugs at Sumin’s knot and they both hiss.

“So impatient,” Sumin sighs. “Hold on, pup, I can't really do this with one hand.” He sticks his fingers in front of Jinsik’s face again and snaps, the motion flicking some of Jinsik’s own cum onto his cheek. “Clean up.”

Jinsik obeys, parting his lips so Sumin can shove his fingers inside. His mouth floods with drool as Sumin presses them against his tongue and smears his release all over it. It’s slightly bitter but he laps it all up anyway, sealing his lips around each of Sumin's thick fingers to suck it off, then moving on to licking his palm clean. He swallows it all under Sumin’s watchful eye and is rewarded with a smile.

“Good boy.” His hand retreats and his weight pulls away from Jinsik mere seconds after, finally freed from the harness that he now buckles inside-out around Jinsik’s hips and legs to keep his knot secured inside him. “Still want your other treat?” Jinsik can feel himself getting hard again before Sumin can even finish his sentence. He whimpers pathetically, both of them already knowing that Sumin can tell he needs it. A familiar snap chases away Jinsik’s desperate thoughts. “Sit.”

Moving is a challenge now that Jinsik has a knot in him sending zaps of pleasure up his spine, but Jinsik is a good pup, so he obeys and drops to his bruised knees where Sumin points him. When he looks back up at Sumin, he's in the middle of stripping his shirt off. Jinsik's eyes roam over what’s revealed; soft abs, scar-defined chest, toned arms. Sumin lays his shirt on top of the couch before sitting down on it and opening his legs right in Jinsik’s face. Of course the motion draws Jinsik's gaze right between them. Sumin’s inner thighs have grown damp with his own slick, red marks cut into his skin by the harness that's now strapped on Jinsik. He's flushed a deep red, made darker by his black not-quite-curls. He's trimmed them again. Jinsik whines; he understands why he would, but it’s so much more enjoyable to bury his face in them and breathe him in when they’re longer. Then again this gives him a better view of Sumin's throbbing tdick and how wet he’s gotten—it’s like he’s applied gloss around his pussy—so he supposes it's worth it.

“Come here, pup.” Sumin's words are punctuated by two quick snaps. Jinsik shakes himself out of his daze and rushes to obey, crawling between Sumin's legs and resting his cheek on his thigh. His hands come up to rest higher up on Sumin’s legs, still curled into paws, still a safe distance from his hips. His treat is so close…

Another snap.

“Wait for it.”

Of course Sumin wouldn't make this easy for him. He whines but obeys and keeps still; if he's good and waits without touching himself, he'll get his treat. Sumin grins down at him. One hand cards through Jinsik's hair, the other held up ready to snap. Jinsik can feel himself starting to tremble in anticipation.

Snap.

“Speak.”

“Woof!”

Wait, whimper, whine. Wet his lips. Watch Sumin’s grin grow wider.

“Want your treat, pup?” Sumin asks. He wraps a leg around Jinsik’s shoulders to drag him in closer, until he can almost taste it. Jinsik nods, a fresh wave of desperate tears pricking his eyes. The final snap of Sumin's fingers echoes in Jinsik's ears.

“Eat up.”

Jinsik dives in like he's starving. Sumin's walls are so soft, fluttering around his curling tongue and soaking his face down to the chin in slick. His musk is the strongest here, thick and heady and intoxicating. Jinsik laps it up, breathes it in, tastes it—tastes Sumin. His nose bumps against his tdick with every swipe of his tongue and Sumin’s grip on his hair tightens until it stings.

“Good boy, fuck, such a good boy,” Sumin moans. The praise goes straight to Jinsik's neglected cock as Sumin grinds against his tongue, guiding him with a hand in his hair and his thighs squeezing his head. Jinsik could drift off to heaven like this, smothered between Sumin’s legs and listening to his muffled noises of pleasure. This is his purpose. “M’getting close pup, you're doing so good.” Jinsik whimpers into Sumin’s pussy at the praise. He chases after it, licks deeper into him to pull more of those pretty moans from his mouth.

He’s fully drunk on Sumin now, the way he tastes, the way he clenches around his tongue, the way his pubes scratch his face; another reason why he doesn’t like them trimmed. It’s all made up for by the way Sumin drags his face up to shove his tdick into his mouth. Jinsik seals his lips around it and sucks hard, just the way Sumin likes it. He can’t help his smile when Sumin outright squeals above him. The leg that isn’t in the middle of crushing Jinsik’s head digs its heel into his thigh as Sumin folds in on himself.

“Fuck, pup, like that, just like that, good boy,” he sobs in a breathless, constant string of praise. Jinsik whines, about as strung out as Sumin sounds. Sumin’s tdick twitches in Jinsik’s mouth and it makes his cock ache. He's still being good, right? He can use Sumin to get off without being punished this time, right? He dips his head down to lap up more of Sumin’s slick instead. He’s learned to be a good pup, he won’t do anything unless he’s told to, so Sumin shoves his foot between Jinsik’s legs for him. “Go on and use me, pup. M’so close, I know you can come again for me.” He snaps his fingers with a shaky hand. “Make a mess out of me, pup.”

Jinsik muffles a moan into Sumin’s cunt. Finally! He sucks and laps harder at his tdick until Sumin’s thighs start to tremble; a telltale sign that he’s about to come, so Jinsik keeps it up until the very last second just so he can catch the gush of Sumin’s slick directly in his mouth. Fuck, he tastes like heaven. Sumin’s shaky, strained moans spur him to keep going, coax more of his juices out with his lips and tongue so he can swallow it down, drink him in until his stomach starts to turn. He’s spoiled that way. Sumin lets him indulge, nudges his trembling leg against Jinsik’s cock until he’s moving his hips on his own.

Humping Sumin’s leg is just as dirty as Jinsik expected it would be, especially with the knot still inside him sending shocks of pleasure through his body with every snap of his hips. The shame burns him up in the best way possible, and he takes that heat out on chasing both his and Sumin’s pleasure.

“Fuck, you and your devil’s tongue,” Sumin gasps out, hips bucking harshly against Jinsik’s face every time he licks into him. “Gonna come, greedy pup?” His voice has grown strained from how Jinsik refuses to let up on his cock; he keeps chasing Sumin’s taste even when Sumin’s grip in his hair has started to sting, even when the leg around his shoulders threatens to crush his head, even when his own pleasure threatens to overwhelm him. His breath starts to grow short as his orgasm builds, supercharged and twice as intense as the first thanks to the stench of sex filling the room and Sumin’s raw cunt clenching around his tongue and the slick dripping down his face and chest; Sumin’s mark, Sumin’s claim.

Jinsik really does white out this time. Maybe it’s because he came so hard it fucking hurt, maybe it’s because Sumin shoved him into his cunt so hard that he briefly suffocated him, maybe it’s some combination of both. All he remembers before he’s blinking awake in Sumin’s arms is both of them slumping down against the couch.

They’re soaking in a warm bath now, Jinsik’s back pressed up against Sumin’s chest. One of Sumin’s hands carefully keeps his head above the water line while the other massages away the aching bruise on Jinsik's side. He must have cleaned up and gotten them here sometime while Jinsik was out. Jinsik’s back and jaw are deliciously sore now, and will no doubt be giving him absolute hell tomorrow. Sumin, sensing his stirring, pulls him closer and presses a kiss to his shoulder

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” he teases. His voice is ever so slightly hoarse next to Jinsik’s ear; Jinsik vaguely recalls hearing it start to break on his moans from his overstimulation. “Are you alright, jagiya? Did I push you too far?” Jinsik shakes his head.

“No, I liked it.” Jinsik attempts to twist around to look at Sumin properly only to be stopped by an unpleasant, tugging ache. “Ow. We’ve been rougher before, it’s okay.” He intercepts Sumin’s concerned, hovering hand by taking it into his own. “How are you feeling? I’m sorry I made you do this all by yourself.” He kisses Sumin’s knuckles, unsure if his tone alone will convey his guilt. Sumin hums in protest and kisses his neck.

“I’m fine, it’s not like you could have controlled that.” He leans his head against Jinsik’s and wraps his arm around his waist. His touch lingers on Jinsik’s belly for just a moment; like something had taken, Jinsik’s imagination supplies. Like they have something precious underneath. “Having you here like this makes up for it.” Jinsik’s heart melts. It drips down and soaks into his skin, dissolves into the water and carries him off on the ripples to a heaven where only he and Sumin exist.

“I love you,” he murmurs into the silence between them. Sumin’s lips curl into a smile against his skin.

“I love you too.”

Later on, they’ll sit up and clean each other off properly. They’ll run loving fingers through each other’s hair, work out the knots in each other’s bodies with the utmost care, tend to each other’s bruises as if any touch other than the most gentle will break them. After that they’ll help each other get dressed, sneak past the living room hoping that the open window will air out the smell of their coupling before the others get home, and curl up in Sumin’s bed together to cuddle and kiss the hours away. Jinsik will cry, and when Sumin asks him why, he’ll shake his head and tell him that he’s just so lucky to have someone who loves him so much, who’s so good to him. He’ll apologize for being silly and Sumin will reassure him, kiss his tears away until they drift off to sleep.

That’s all for the future, though. In the present, they only need the heat of the bath and each other’s embrace.

#arf! arf!#xikers #sumsik #canon compliant #annual #ah the things that happen when my twitter friends inspire me at like midnight #much love to my beta reader @/0kkultic :3

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memetrashmom · 11 months

Note

For Lemon: 12, 24, and 42

For Effie: 21, 38, and 45

and, if so inclined, for Daffodil: 25, 30, and 39?

For Lemon: 12, 24, and 42 12. What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific! Someone playing pretend/doing a bit and letting her in on the joke. Examples include: Rinn dropping her off and kissing her hand then calling her Fair Lady like a goober, Cael calling her Ms. Bakhouzin and that she drives a hard bargain all over deciding who pays for what at dinner, Nick doing something similar about her driving a hard bargain over something silly. It always gets her giggling. Lemon also loves a good play on words. They’re like little word puzzles, and she loves puzzles! 24. Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it? Lemon has snuck multiple cookies, hand pies, fritters, and once managed to inhale an entire tray of Special Brownies when no one was looking. She was fine, just incredibly stoned with a slightly upset tummy, so her big cousins kept an eye on her while the leaf worked its way out of her system. It’s surprising what one tiny puppy eyed halfling lass can get away with lol. She actually got her deer rib bone runes from Coyote by trading an entire kitchen's worth of baked goods and trading it when she was under 10 years old, and got grounded from baking lessons from Rosalind for a month >>’ 42. If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be? Lemon could give multiple TED Talks, because she is a Giant Nerd, but her four main hyper fixations are arcana, nature, baking, and romance smut novels. So she might host a “Biology and Magic: How the Two Overlap” or “Local Species: What’s On the Menu, What’s a No Go, and Why?” or “Basics of Baking With Bakhouzin's” or lastly “Top Best and Worst Romance Novel Tropes”.

For Effie: 21, 38, and 45 21. What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it? Effie is a whirlwind of over the top nonsense, but shockingly she does follow most common etiquette rules out of habit. She was raised in court by her politician parents, so she follows most of them without really thinking. What she doesn’t disagree with is the supposed etiquette of “minding her own business”. If she can hear it, that makes it free game. She wants all the facts in the correct order. Will she do anything with all that fact checked gossip? Most likely not, but it could be important some day! 38. What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why? I like to think Effie has a lovely soprano singing voice, but for some reason when you put her in front of people suddenly she has to make a joke out of it and just cannot sing normally. Mostly because she really enjoys singing, and doesn’t want to be told she’s bad at something she loves. 45. What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately? Socks and sandals. She knows entire cultures do it, that it isn’t exactly a fashion thing for them, etc etc. She Knows. Effie still hates it with a fiery passion. Not as passionately as she loves Temperance, but only by a few degrees.

and, if so inclined, for Daffodil: 25, 30, and 39? 25. What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot? All of the gossip in and around her human family’s court from 300-ish years ago. Who was besotted with who, who was caught talking the lover’s walk unattended into the gardens after midnight at Sir Macavoy’s last ball, who stole money at card night! Daffodil also can’t follow up on this gossip, because the humans involved are all dead now and her elf mother is MIA. She is very frustrated by this fact. 30. When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional? Honestly, personal is so much worse than professional. Professional mistakes happen and can be a combination of many things not entirely in her control, but disappointing one of her muses? Her light and love and joy?? The very core of her songs??? Her inspiration that makes life worth continuing???? Devastating. She will take to her bed in a faint. 39. Would they rather be invited to an event to feel included or be excluded from an event if they were not genuinely wanted there That depends entirely on why she isn’t wanted there I think. Daffodil enjoys a bit of extra drama, so if her showing up would cause a bit of stir she totally would want to be invited anyway and show up with bells on. If her family didn’t want her there because her presence would cause issues for them, then she wouldn’t want to be invited.

#dnd lemon #lemon dnd #dnd effie #effie dnd #dnd daffodil #daffodil dnd

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lykegenia · 2 years

Text

Legend of Korra rewrite

So what happens when you cross caffeine-induced insomnia with a brain willing to fixate on the most random shit imaginable? Apparently a remainder that I’m still salty about all the ways Nickelodeon fucked over Legend of Korra by not letting it have a multiple season arc greenlit from the beginning. What’s there is already good considering the parameters Bryke had to work with, but only getting one season ordered at a time with studio execs prodding at various plot elements means a lot of potential was squandered.

My 3am brain decided to fix it.

This isn’t a comprehensive beat-beat-by-beat rewrite, I don’t have time for that. It also might not be entirely coherent because, again, 3am brain. I’ll only be focusing on the main characters since they’re the ones doing the most to drive the plot forward.

Before we begin, let’s talk themes. If we’re going to have an overarching, coherent narrative, we’re going to need to give it themes, for flavour. I really like the way LOK used each season to explore the flaws of different political frameworks (e.g. populism, anarchism) but there’s nothing to tie it all together, and the story becomes less about Korra and more about the world she inhabits. In this rewrite, Korra’s journey will come back into focus, and will (like TLA) explore a theme of balance. Specific to yin-yang, there are a bunch of oppositions that relate to each other – chaos/order, tradition/change, altruism/selfishness, freedom/boundaries – none of which are inherently bad, and neither side better than the other. There is no good and evil, only balance and the lack of it. For Korra as well, there will be the theme of legacy, of forging your own path instead of being defined by people’s expectations, of letting go of self-image, and of finding strength in community.

Here we go.

SEASON 1

· For the most part, unchanged. It’s pretty solid. Could maybe do without the weird double love triangle that was going on for most of it so we could dedicate more time to Korra finding community, and establishing what role the avatar might play in a world that’s seemingly in balance.

· HOWEVER. I would add at least one extra episode to the ending, and change it just a bit. We’re also going to set up season 2.

· By the end of the season, Korra does not get back the elements Amon took from her. At least not yet. Instead of being useless, Katara, whose character is not completely betrayed in this version, does manage to undo the damage Amon did, because she mastered bloodbending at 14 and is the world’s best healer according to everyone in the room. So what’s the problem? Korra won’t wake up. She’s trapped in the spirit world, either because of her guilt at being such a failure (in her mind) or because something is keeping her there, but there’s no way to tell which it is.

· Korra, in the spirit world, is lost. She hears someone behind her, turns with a fire kick ready to defend herself, and… it’s Aang. He points out that bending doesn’t work in the spirit world, he found that out the hard way when he had to walk through an entire forest instead of using his glider. He tells her to follow him.

· In the real world, it’s early morning, the fire’s low, everyone’s asleep. Someone (Mako? Asami?) wakes up and starts shouting because Korra’s gone. There’s a search party. Naga’s still in her pen, but there are footprints leading to a cliff and then… nothing. We’ve circumvented the execs worry about depicting suicidal ideation by making it clear first that Korra is off doing spirity things, and Katara, who is wise, tells everyone that they need to trust in the avatar.

· Repercussions: Unalaq turns up with troops from the North ostensibly to rescue Korra. When it’s pointed out that she’s in the spirit world, he asks how they can know for sure. After all, someone tried to kidnap her once before (“And you couldn’t protect her then, either – could you brother? Someone else had to do it”). Name drop the Red Lotus, but they won’t be important until later.

· This is just a ruse to start the occupation. Aside from Unalaq having shady evil plans, the South has lost its way, they lost the avatar, and they owe the North for all the rebuilding they did after the 100 Years War (sarcastic huzzah for colonialism!) The last shot of the season is a mass of Northern ships advancing on the South in a direct parallel to the shot in the opening of TLA. (This also removes the contrivance of Korra being naïve enough to believe a word of anything her obviously evil uncle says.)

SEASON 2

· Korra washes up on a Fire Nation beach and is found by the priestess lady who in this version is definitely Azula btw. She’s chill after 70 years. The opening of this season is the two-parter where we learn the origins of the avatar because a) it interrupts the story less to put it here and b) it’s a far more organic way for her to relearn how to connect with all her elements that ties into her character growth instead of being another Lion Turtle-ex-machina. She also learns that harmonic convergence is coming, but not quite yet (it won’t be the S2 finale but more on that later) and that she needs to find out where Vaatu’s prison is so that she can keep him there.

· Meanwhile, in the South: Civil war. Katara is among the first to stand up to the occupation and fights back (the South knows how to fight, it spent 100 years fighting while the North cowered behind its high walls and did nothing) because her character is not completely betrayed in this version of events. She will not let her people be subjugated again. The others want to stay and help, but the Southern benders are holding their own for now what they really need is outside help to get the North to back down (and we haven’t seen this much politics in kids media since the Star Wars prequels). Tenzin and family head to the Fire Nation to get help from Zuko/Izumi. Lin, who has her bending back thanks to Katara, goes back to Republic City to garner support from the United Forces. Asami and Mako go with her – Asami to sort out Future Industries, Mako because it sucks being a firebender at the south pole in winter, and because he wants to help Lin. He has to let go of his need overprotectiveness because Bolin stays and joins the rebellion. There is not a weird abusive romantic subplot between him and Eska.

· Korra finally gets back from the spirit world. Hears about trouble in the South from Azula, and her first instinct is to rush off to the south pole, but harmonic convergence is a bigger threat to everyone. Like Aang, she has to choose between her duties to the world and her attachment to her people. She’s persuaded to find Tenzin/Jinora instead, and gets given a sky bison.

· Tonraq gets captured, but not before learning why his brother REALLY wants to get to the portal in the spirit trees. Nobody else finds out. For dramatic irony. And so the audience can get a bit of exposition without it seeming clunky. He’s been weakening the boundary between the spirit world and the waking world in preparation for letting Vaatu out, and that’s why there are spirits running amok everywhere. Fighting is getting worse.

· All the events in Republic City still happen, maybe with tweaks but not enough to change the direction of the plot.

· Korra finds Jinora, and together they set off for the spirit world. Yes Korra still gets lost. Last time she had Aang as a guide but a) without him she doesn’t know how to navigate b) she’s still new to this whole spirituality thing c) since she was last in the spirit world Unalaq’s destabilisation of the boundary means things are a lot more chaotic anyway. Yes we still see Iroh, and he helps her, and we get a showdown in front of Vaatu’s tree. He mocks Raava for being too late to stop him. But at least now they know how to get to him from the real world. Jinora still gets kidnapped.

· The S2 finale is mostly the same, except Unalaq does not join with Vaatu. Vaatu promised that’s what would happen but Vaatu is a spirit of chaos and discord, he is inherently selfish, so instead feeds on Unalaq to free himself. There is no giant battle between spirit Korra and spirit Unalaq, we are not in Pacific Rim. Also, the battle between Raava and Vaatu is not good/evil, but they are in opposition.

· Most importantly, the good guys lose the finale. The big final battle happens to stop Unalaq getting to the Tree of Time, and they’re too late. Vaatu is freed and his prison, the Tree of Time, is destroyed in the process. Chaos ensues. (This is what brings the airbenders back but we don’t know this yet.) Harmonic convergence is looming, Team Avatar’s job now is to find a way to beat him now that the tree of time has been destroyed.

SEASON 3

· Spirits of chaos have unleashed airbenders. Oops, that includes Zaheer. They’re here to fuck shit up.

· Season 3 is generally pretty good and well-paced, and the finale is banger, so most things will be kept the same except the chaos the Red Lotus creates in the Earth Kingdom is directly feeding Vaatu, making him stronger. Korra’s trip to the spirit world to learn the origins of the Red Lotus is slightly different. Instead of Zaheer, she connects with her previous lives. She and Kyoshi get on like a house on fire. Kyoshi explains the Red Lotu’s origin, but Zaheer has been waiting for her, attuned to Raava’s energy. They have a fight, shows Korra is improving in her spirituality by how she can manipulate the world (better resolution for that arc, consistency between seasons is nice), but she’s no match for Zaheer. Tries to warn him about Vaatu but he argues that by fusing with Raava the avatar disrupted the balance of the universe and that he’s helping put it back. The people who are going to die because of this will simply be redressing the balance. This fight is what keeps Korra distracted while the rest of the Red Lotus attacks.

· Finale is banger, keep it as it is.

SEASON 4

· Kuvira’s motivation now isn’t just trying to restore order in the Earth Kingdom power vacuum, she also knows harmonic convergence is coming and wants to impose order to stop Vaatu winning since the avatar is AWOL/not recovered. During the early part of S3 world leaders were warned about harmonic convergence but since it’s traditionally the avatar’s job to deal with spirits, nothing was really done.

· She’s actually making the problem worse.

· Team Avatar and the airbenders etc all fall on different sides of the ‘how to stop 10,000 years of darkness’ discussion, and without the avatar as a unifying voice, it’s making the problem worse.

· Most of the plot beats stay the same, but there is no giant robot shooting spirit plant lasers at things, because. Well. We’re not in Pacific Rim. Kuvira can still be forcing Varrick to build her superweapons, though, as a treat.

· The big finale finale is harmonic convergence. Vaatu manifests, stronger than last time because he’s been feeding on the chaos of the human world, and now there’s no Tree of Time to imprison him. What will Korra do next?

· The avatar cycle is broken. Kora wins, but at the cost of her connection with Raava, because Raava is the only one who can really control him in the end. Their struggle is eternal. Think Ed vs Truth at the end of FMA:B. All the experience of the past avatars feeds into Raava’s power and it counterbalances Vaatu, Korra lets go, and the two “destroy” each other locked together. The explosion of spirit energy brings about a new spiritual age. Maybe Korra keeps her waterbending, maybe she loses her bending entirely (which would be a nice bit of symmetry with the concerns of S1) but she still steps into the spirit portal with Asami at the end.

#legend of korra #lok #korra #avatar meta #legend of korra meta #lok meta #thanks brain #didn't need that sleep anyway

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snackhobi · 4 years

Text

pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you’re used to being in love with taehyung. you’ve had a lot of time to get good at it, after all—by this point you’re the world’s expert at keeping your less-than-platonic feelings hidden from him, what with the amount of practice you’ve had.

but then he signs up for a massage therapy course, because apparently you can never catch a break.

or: the one where taehyung gives you a full body massage and then some.

warnings: sexually explicit content, massage with a happy ending (literally 🤧), cursing, edible massage oil/lube, fingering (f), unprotected sex (be safe when you have sex please), multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m), cum swallowing, pet names, body worship?, brief mention of shower sex

a/n: I swear this was meant to be pwp. this was literally meant to just be pwp with some massage shenanigans. and then I blinked and it had become a soft 13k fic which honestly… kicked my ass quite a bit. but I hope you enjoy it!! thank you as always to @hobi-gif for beta reading this and encouraging me and putting up with me changing this multiple times, what would I do without your support miss hope?

Taehyung goes through a lot of different phases.

He just finds so many things interesting. Photography, art, art history, music, fashion, thrift shopping; heck, there was even the time he got weirdly into making tea and became some sort of connoisseur, going through the whole rigmarole of buying the loose leaves and weighing them out, checking the temperature of the water, brewing for a precisely measured amount of time.

You still remember the look on his face when you said it all tasted like hot leaf water to you.

Because, of course, as one of Taehyung’s best friends and his roommate, you’re inevitably swept up in everything he does. You’re used to the weirdly acrid smell of photo development fluid and how cold dark rooms can get. You use phrases like chiaroscuro and sfumato to describe the simplest things after listening to Taehyung do the same for so long. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve tripped over his saxophone case when he leaves it lying around the apartment. You regularly wear the baggy t-shirt with the face that Taehyung had painted on it—even if you still refer to it as the Squidward-House-Shirt despite the fact you know he was inspired by Basquiet and Schiele and not the Easter Island themed stone head that Squidward lives in.

You don’t mind getting dragged along with whatever he does, honestly; you don’t have time to attend every class, but go with him when you can. It’s always good to expand your horizons. You also love watching Tae’s face whenever he learns something new, the various expressions that flit across his features—from wide eyed excitement and eyebrow raising astonishment to the more solemn side that appears whenever he’s taking something in and thinking deeply about it, turning it over in his mind, mulling on it.

(You love watching Tae’s face all the time, actually, but that’s a whole other can of worms you’d rather keep shut.)

However, the latest course he’s signed up for is not one you’d been expecting.

“Massage therapy?” Your face twists in equal parts confusion and surprise.

Taehyung’s dropped this latest nugget of information while you’re cooking, trying to fry some rice while also peering at the phone screen that’s been thrust into your face. You’re not bad at multitasking, per se, but Taehyung’s iPhone is drifting so close that you’re almost cross-eyed and it’s blocking you from seeing what’s going on in the pan.

“I had a coupon,” he says, as if that explains everything. (It doesn’t.)

“Scooch,” you say, and he immediately moves so you can turn the gas off.

“Jiminie and Jungkookie say that my massages help with dance, and that's just from Youtube tutorials.” Taehyung continues to talk as you bustle around the tiny kitchen. He’s already set the table so now he’s free to watch you finish doing the rest of the work. “And Joon-hyung says I have the perfect hands for it.”

You fumble with the pan as you’re scooping the steaming rice into a large bowl, only just managing to save food from scattering everywhere. You’ve thought about Taehyung’s hands a lot, about how large and long fingered and beautiful they are, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Really? Huh. That’s nice.” You stare at the pan, fixated on getting every grain of rice so you can avoid looking at Taehyung’s face. And hands. Which are still cupped around his phone. Which looks so small in his big, pretty grip.

Jesus Christ.

“It means I can give you massages if you ever start to get tense.” Taehyung sounds pleased, lovely grin on his face at the prospect of being able to rub his hands over you. As if that isn’t going to make every single one of your muscles lock up and turn you into some sort of coiled rope of a human being, which is the complete opposite of what a massage is supposed to achieve.

“Great.” Despite your inner turmoil, your voice is level and steady as you meticulously scrape the last grain of rice into the bowl, chasing the tiny fleck of white around the huge pan. Scrape, scrape, scrape. “Sounds fabulous. Can’t wait.”

Of course Taehyung would sign up to learn something that he could use to help his friends. He’s so big-hearted and loving. Big-hearted and loving and kind and funny and affectionate and beautiful and deep-voiced and so entirely overwhelming in every single way imaginable.

You do what you always do when confronted yet again with your all-consuming crush—you bottle that shit the fuck up until he’s not in the room.

And then you have a miniature breakdown at Pickles.

“I am going to die,” you whisper-scream. “He’s going to offer to massage me and he’s going to get a bottle of massage oil out and he’s going drizzle it onto his massive hands and I am going to fucking die.”

The bearded dragon cocks his head as he stares at you. Taehyung had come home with the reptile one day, tank and all, saying that someone on Facebook had been giving him away because they were moving house and could they just look after him for a little while, please, pretty please? Until they found a good home for him? Please?

That was over a year ago. (You’ve always been bad at saying no to Taehyung.)

“I hate my life,” you lament to the lizard, but then you hear the noisy flush of the toilet and know that Taehyung is going to emerge from the bathroom soon, so you have to wrap this miniature meltdown up pronto. “I wish I was a bearded dragon too, you know. All you do is get fed and sit under the heat bulb. Your life is so easy. You don’t even know what capitalism is.”

The silence you get from Pickles is far more support than you get from your human friends once you tell them. Yoongi just raises his eyebrows while Seokjin and Hoseok laugh outright in your face, just like they always do when you cry to them about Taehyung.

You need new friends. These ones are defective. (If only you’d kept the receipt so you could return them.)

“We learned how to do neck and shoulder massages today!” Taehyung says brightly after the first session.

You hum in response. You’re rewatching Pacific Rim together, cuddled up against Taehyung’s side, and you don’t have to turn your head to know what expression is on his face. There’ll be that little upturn to his lips, happiness at learning something new. That warmth in his eyes at being able to share it with you, even if you couldn't be there with him. Those little freckles on his face, under his eye, his nose, his lip; the one you’ve imagined kissing more times than you can count.

“My teacher says I have a natural talent with my hands,” he adds, and you’re so grateful that you can blame your sudden intake of breath on the scene that’s playing on the screen, as high stakes as it is.

“That’s nice,” you say, and mentally pat yourself on the back at keeping the strain out of your voice. You've had a lot of practice at this. “I’m not surprised, though. You’ve always been good at doing things with them.”

That’s not a euphemism. Taehyung’s always so careful when he makes things; you’d learned how to fold different origami patterns together, matching crane for crane, lotus for lotus, and he’d always been so delicate with his fingers. He’s always so careful and considerate with you, too, fingers splayed wide across your shoulder as he squeezes you closer to his side, leaving you breathless.

“I wish you could come too.” Taehyung sounds disappointed. “We always have so much fun together.”

For the first time in your life you’re grateful that your manager at Olive Chicken is such a hardass and won’t let you swap shifts, so you’d had to miss signing up for the massage course with Taehyung—because you know there’s no way you’d be able to keep it together if there was some sort of tandem practice in class or whatever. Your crush on him is filled with equal parts of tenderness and lust and you’re well aware of that. You’d rest your hands on the soft skin of Taehyung’s shoulders and back, the lust would overwhelm you, and you’d immediately burst into flames like some sort of demon stepping over the threshold of a church.

Why oh why did God have to make Kim Taehyung so hot?

Why oh why did God have to make you so… not?

You know Taehyung doesn’t see you in a romantic light at all. You’re grateful for this deep, platonic relationship you have, and you love him to pieces, but holy hell is it hard to walk around with Kim Taehyung looking the way he does and wanting to jump his bones while simultaneously being aware that it’s never going to happen. Whenever he smiles at you, or touches you, or holds you, it’s in exactly the same way as he treats any of his friends—and as happy as you are to be one of those friends, it also kind of kills you inside.

(Because you know you don’t have a chance, have never had a chance, and will never have a chance.)

The idea of offering to massage Taehyung is one that makes you want to melt into a puddle of horny goo. But when he offers to massage you, it’s because you’re a convenient practice partner who he’s comfortable with. It’s no big deal. You could strip naked and slather yourself up in oil and stand in front of him with your bosoms heaving and say ‘Have at me, big boy’ and Taehyung would say: ‘Sweet! A chance to practice deep tissue massage! Gee, thanks for being such a great pal!’

The kind of deep tissue you want Taehyung to massage is very different to whatever he’s talking about.

… Anyway.

You manage to avoid Taehyung using his apparently magic fingers on you for a surprising amount of time, though you’re kept up to date with his progress, because he shares everything with you and tells you about everything and you always, always listen. Because, more than being your crush, he’s one of your best friends and you love him.

Which is why you try your best to be gentle, graciously refusing his offer of a shoulder massage after he sees you wincing, even if with anyone else you’d just tell them to back off with zero hesitation.

“It’s fine,” you say, flapping a hand at him. “I just slept on it funny.”

“A massage would help! It won’t take long, I promise. Five minutes? Please?”

Taehyung’s looking at you with those big puppy eyes of his, pleading. You waver. You’re torn between being steadfast and avoiding a situation you’ve literally had nightmares about (Taehyung had offered to massage you, and you’d said yes, but then you’d fallen over as you were walking to him and suddenly a lasagne had appeared in your hands and you’d spilled it all down your shirt and he’d pointed and laughed and laughed and you’d felt so embarrassed that you’d woken up, cheeks burning), but then he pouts and you give in like the spineless and lovesick fool that you are.

“Five minutes,” you say, and Taehyung nods emphatically, looking pleased.

(You have the backbone of a chocolate éclair.)

You send quiet thanks to whatever God is listening when he doesn’t ask you to take your top off and doesn’t break out a bottle of scented oil. Instead he just asks for you to straddle a chair, clutching a plushie against your chest to cushion where it leans against the backrest, and tells you to get comfy.

“Just relax,” he says, as you desperately try to remember how your body works and coax it to relax like Taehyung wants you to. You fail miserably. You feel like a ball of rubber bands, each muscle a layer of tighter and tighter elastic that’s circled around you. “Lean forwards a little?”

At least Taehyung can’t see your face from this angle. You have no idea what sort of expression is twisting your features; consternation and horrified anticipation, probably. You're basically throttling your plushie, taking out your tension and frustration on the poor thing, Rilakkuma's placid face morphing into a twisted expression of sympathy under your grasping fingers.

“Perfect,” Taehyung says. The sound of praise in his deep voice has your insides turning into overheated syrup, hot and thick, dripping down and pooling between your legs. You hate yourself. Getting turned on by the most innocuous words from your best friend, really? Get it together.

The second you feel Taehyung's warm hands touch the back of your neck, your shoulders hunch up faster than a whiplash, a turtle sucking its head into its shell. Your friend laughs.

“This is the opposite of relaxing,” he says, voice warm with amusement.

“You surprised me.” You dig your nails into Rilakkuma's soft brown fur. Taehyung just thinks you're not used to being massaged, not that you're being weird because it's him that's touching you. Because he touches you a lot. He’s just never done it like this. “Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he replies, unruffled and oblivious. “Let me try again?”

You bite your lip, desperately trying to quell the mix of arousal and tension that’s churning in your stomach, begging your muscles to unwind. You’ve kept your crush a secret from him for this long, you can keep that energy up. (You have to keep that energy up.) “Um. Okay.”

You’re still tense when Taehyung puts his hands on you again. The touch is warm through your clothes, firm but careful, digging into the sharp line of tension laid across your shoulders; despite the way your heart is threatening to launch itself out of your chest, you start to loosen up, because holy shit that feels nice, actually.

You melt against Rilakkuma and smother the bear's face in your chest. “Your teacher wasn’t kidding when they said that you’re good with your hands,” you mumble.

You’ve never gotten a proper massage before but it feels so damn good that you can’t help but unwind, turning to jelly at the confident presses of Taehyung’s fingers and palms into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder. A little sigh spills past your lips when Taehyung starts to work at the part that’s been twinging after you lay crookedly on it, limbs akimbo in your sleep after a long night at work. “Oh, right there, Tae.”

Taehyung goes still for just a second before continuing, trailing his fingers over your shirt. “Here?”

Your eyes have drifted shut so you can focus on the sensation of that tension being pulled out of your body. “Yeah, right there,” you repeat, massaged into a state of lazy euphoria. The breath you let out is long and deep, catching in the back of your throat at a particularly firm rub of Taehyung’s hands; if you weren’t so blissed out you might be embarrassed at how much the noise you make is like a moan, but as it is, you don’t even notice. You just let out a little sound of discontent when Taehyung’s fingers stutter in their motions, displeased that he’s stopped even for a second.

By the time the massage is over, you’re so relaxed that you feel like you could melt into the floor, a wobbly puddle of unwound muscles and loose limbs. It’s official. You’re a massage convert.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes flutter open as you lean away from Rilakkuma so you can turn around. They’re the first coherent words you’ve spoken for a while; small sighs and sounds have been dripping from your lips and it’s only now that you’re able to regain your breath. “Tae, that was amazin—”

You’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s back as he power walks away, steps rapid, a little shaky, awkward. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

“I need to wash my hands,” he says without looking at you, before the door slams shut.

You don’t remember Tae telling you about how quickly you have to wash your hands after finishing a massage. But, thinking about it, you suppose it makes sense—you know, with massaging multiple clients or whatever—even if it’s surprising exactly how fast he’d hoofed it away from you. It sounds like he’s switched both taps on full blast as well, noisy even through the wooden door, and judging from how long he’s in there, he’s being very thorough. Hand washing must be a lot more important than you’d realised.

Once Taehyung emerges, his face is a little flushed, cheeks a soft red. You wonder if the hot water tap is playing up again and filling your dinky bathroom with hot steam, and make a mental note to look into it. You smile at Taehyung from your perch on the sofa, Rilakkuma plopped on your lap, smile spread across your features; one that Taehyung returns, as pink-faced as he is.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?”

“So much better, honestly,” you admit. It’s incredible. He hasn’t even finished the course yet and he's already this good. He really does have magic hands.

“I’ll have to give you massages more often,” Taehyung says, though the end of the sentence trembles a little. He must be light-headed after all the steam in the bathroom.

The thought of more massages doesn’t fill you with as much mind-numbing trepidation as it might have earlier, utterly languid as you flop across the sofa, muscles uncoiled after the lovely touch of Taehyung’s even lovelier hands. No wonder people rave about spa days if they leave you feeling like this. Maybe if you’d been staring at Taehyung in the eye when he’d been touching you, then you’d feel a lot more awkward—as it is, it’s no worse than usual. Your crush is still all-encompassing but you also got a massage out of it, so.

“Sounds great.” This time you don’t even have to fake your excitement. “Now come sit your butt down so we can order some takeout and decide what to watch.”

When you bend down to speak to Pickles later, the bearded dragon is lolling on his favourite branch. “There’s still a high chance that I’m going to die,” you say in a low voice, before you flick the lights off so the lizard can sleep. “But he hasn’t broken out the oils yet, so I think I’ll be okay for now.”

Your luck doesn’t last.

“Strawberry and champagne, lychee martini, mint mojito, white chocolate, or tropical coconut?”

You look up from where you’re painting your toenails. “Huh?”

Taehyung bundles into the room and throws himself onto your bed, flopping on his belly and ignoring the way the mattress is jostled. You, of course, are used to his antics, which is why you’d swept your open bottle of nail polish up before he could spill it everywhere.

“What do you think sounds best?”

“Well, that depends,” you say, squinting at your toes and carefully sweeping the polish over the freshly buffed nails. “For candles, I think they sound pretty nice. For sauces to pour over a steak, I’d say I’d give them all a hard pass. What’s it for?”

“Massage oils,” Taehyung says blithely, too busy staring at his phone to see you muffle a curse when your hand slips and you paint your entire little toe blue. “I was wondering which you think sounds best.”

“Oh. Uh.” You fumble to clean your toe and salvage the now-terrible pedicure you’re trying to give yourself. It was only a matter of time before massage oils were going to become part of your life. Taehyung never goes into things half-hearted, so of course he’s going to invest in oils, too. God’s sake. You can never catch a break, can you? “Why these ones in particular?”

Taehyung pauses for a suspiciously long time, but it gives you the chance to furiously rub at your toe while he’s distracted. “We get a free bottle from the course,” he says eventually.

Huh. Okay. “That’s pretty neat. What was the last one? Coconut? Stick with the basics, can’t go wrong with that, right?”

“Coconut is always tasty,” Taehyung comments absently, and you glance up from your Smurf toe.

“Agreed, but it’s not like you’re about to eat massage oil, are you?”

Taehyung pauses, and then buries his face into his phone screen—suddenly very intent on rereading the list of ingredients in each bottle, it seems. “No, of course not, you’re right,” he mumbles.

He’s almost finished the course. He’s not going to be an accredited masseuse or anything, but you definitely think he could be, if he wanted to—you’ve never had less tension in your shoulders and neck in your life. Taehyung always eases his way into your personal space anyway, casual and effortless after years of friendship, but now you’re used to his fingers sliding over the back of your neck, a gliding touch, sending tense little goosebumps over your skin while simultaneously making you melt.

“It’s pretty cool that you get free stuff, though.” Your toe is clean, thankfully, no longer blue. “And not just, like, a generic bottle of oil or something. They all sound really fancy. I didn’t realise that you could get massage oils that were scented like that?”

Taehyung makes a non-committal noise, which is uncharacteristic of him, but you’re too focused on repainting your final nail to pay it too much mind, letting out a loud huff of triumph when you’re done.

“Get me a bag of shrimp crackers, please?” You have a sudden craving but you don’t want to penguin waddle to the kitchen and risk getting anything on your wet nails. “Ya girl is hungry.”

“Got it.” Taehyung rolls off the bed without protest. You’re used to his antics, and he’s used to yours, indulging you whenever you feel lazy or want him to do something for you. “You need me to feed you?”

“I wasn’t going to use my toes to feed myself,” you laugh, but Taehyung ends up feeding them to you anyway.

When you recount the list to Seokjin later, his face crumples in a way that’s equal parts offended and disgusted. “They all sound terrible,” he says. “White chocolate should stay in chocolate form and not be turned into an oil. Why does massage oil even have to smell like anything?”

You’re both holed up in the tiny smoking nook behind Olive Chicken; neither of you smoke, but it’s a good excuse to go outside and get fresh air during longer shifts.

“Hey, don’t ask me, I’m not the one who’s taking the course. I think lychee martini sounds interesting, though.”

“Agree to disagree.” Seokjin unwraps one of the complimentary chocolates the restaurant gives to diners with their bill, swallowing it whole. “Besides, we all know Taehyung could approach you with dirty, used fryer oil and you’d let him dip you in it.”

You slap the next chocolate out of his hand before it reaches his mouth. He’s unmoved and simply plucks another from his pocket, which is apparently bulging with them.

“Yoongichi,” Jin says, calling to the delivery boy, who’s just appeared from the dark like some tired-eyed spectre of fried chicken. “Tell me this. If I were to ask you what smell of massage oil you’d prefer, what—”

“I would say that I really could not care less.” Yoongi flops down on one of the rickety fold-out chairs before silently accepting a chocolate from Seokjin’s stash. “And then I’d ask why you’re asking me in the first place, seeing as you’re the one using it, not me. If Taehyung’s asking what massage oil you’d prefer, Y/n, it’s because he wants to rub it all over you specifically.” Yoongi munches on the chocolate, already filling in the blanks without needing to be told the context. You really are that transparent, huh. “Please, we’ve been over this.”

Jin pouts. “You ruined my set up. I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Oh no.” Yoongi remains blank-faced. “How terrible.”

“I hate both of you,” you say. “I’m going to tell Pickles how mean you are.”

“I bet if that lizard could talk, he’d tell you how tired he was of you two dancing around each other, just like the rest of us,” Yoongi says.

There’s no dancing around, though, no matter what your friends say. Well. Not on Taehyung’s end anyway. You’re out here doing the fandango, castanets and all, while Taehyung just stands stock still, oblivious.

You let out an incredibly long sigh. Seokjin hands you a sympathetic chocolate.

The massage oil doesn’t make an appearance in your life for a little while, though. The end of the course comes and goes, Taehyung proudly flapping the laminated certificate at you, wobble-wobble-wobble, filling the apartment with the sound of rippling plastic. But no coconut oil.

The scent of ‘tropical coconut’ has started to haunt your dreams, in a way that’s both good and bad; when you wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, it’s not because you’re having nightmares, let’s just put it like that. It’s like there’s an invisible countdown that you can’t trace and it’s only a matter of time before it ticks over and the shoulder massages (that you’ve gotten very comfortable with) edge into something different. Taehyung’s going to innocently offer to give you a backrub and uncap that bottle of scented oil and you’re going to explode into a mess of putty under his hands.

Well… then again… you had been worried about that with all the shoulder rubs. Now look at you. You weather those like a champ. Sure, your skin tingles and you run hot and you think about the sensation of Taehyung’s hands gliding over you whenever you’re alone, but you’re basically fine. Your friend who just so happens to also be the great love of your life remains none the wiser.

You bet a full back rub would feel great after a long week.

Which is why when Taehyung steps into the apartment with a look on his face that you immediately recognise as tiredness, you sort of wish you knew how to massage people, too.

He falls into your arms with little fanfare. It’s been one of those days, one of those ones that everyone gets, even Taehyung—he’s usually so Switched On and Exuberant and Alive, and people don’t seem to realise that even he feels exhausted, sometimes.

“You alright, bubs?” You can’t massage him but you can rub his back soothingly, let him snuffle against your neck. Sometimes you think about that little space between your chin and collarbones as Taehyung’s, a hollow that’s perfect for him to press his face into, hair tickling your chin as he curls up into you. His and his alone. “Did something happen?”

He just shakes his head.

“Okay,” you say.

(Close proximity and skin on skin with Taehyung doesn’t always have your pulse rising and your heart racing. Sometimes it’s just this: quiet and soft, your heart bright with fierce affection for this boy, the only thought in your mind that you want him to be happy, forever.)

The long silence is broken by the sound of Taehyung heaving in a breath before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and low, far less energetic than his usual self.

“Nothing to thank me for, Tae,” you reply. “Always here for you. You know that, right?”

He doesn’t respond straight away. He just burrows closer, draped over you, until he murmurs, barely audible. “Why?”

Your face twists. “Why, what? Why am I always here for you?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung squeezes himself impossibly closer, skin warm against yours, forehead pressed to the skin of your neck. You can’t see his expression from this angle.

“Because you’re one of my best friends and I love you,” you answer, immediately. You don’t even have to think about it. “Because you’re important to me and if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. I’ll celebrate the good things in your life with you, and I’ll be at your side during the bad times, just like you are with me. Please don’t ever forget how much I love you, okay?”

There’s a pause, and then it feels like all the tension leaves Taehyung’s body, slumping his whole body weight against you. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I love you too. Thank you,” he says again. You just reply by squeezing his shoulders.

He’s a little quieter for a few days after that. You’re not sure why, because he’d perked up after a lazy evening of lying around and eating too many snacks, flopped against you like an oversized, clinging starfish—but you’re gentle with him nonetheless.

(Well. You’re always gentle with him. It just takes you half a second to fold in the face of his whims, rather than a whole, full second.)

So when the dreaded bottle of oil finally appears, you’re far less ready to fight off Taehyung’s insistence on a full body massage, caught off guard after days of indulging him. Fuck.

“You’ve had a long week!” Taehyung insists as you scrabble your way over the sofa’s backrest so you can hide behind it, clutching a cushion to your chest. “You need to relax!”

Without looking you fling the cushion over the sofa. Judging from the fact that Taehyung doesn’t make a sound, you’ve missed. “I was feeling perfectly relaxed until you started yelling at me about it! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me being relaxed?”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Oh, crap. Maybe you did hit him with the cushion?

You pop up from behind the sofa. Nope. It's an embarrassing distance away from Taehyung, who’s got that surprisingly large bottle of oil held loosely in his hands. There’s an expression on his face that you can’t decipher; a little crestfallen, a little unsure, but there’s something else there, too, something you can’t put a name to.

“Taehyung?”

“I just… wanted to help,” he says. “You’re always there for me when I’m not feeling great, and you calm me down, and I wanted to do the same for you.”

You immediately feel like the worst human being alive. Take the feeling you get whenever you accidentally step on an animal’s tail, multiply it by infinity, and that’s only just a drop in the ocean of awful, awful guilt that you’re drowning in.

“Oh, Tae,” you say. Your voice comes out so much softer and sweeter than you mean it to, but you can't help it. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. It’s really nice of you to be so concerned. You just surprised me. You do help me relax and your massages are great.” (You tell him that often enough that he should know it, but it never hurts to repeat a compliment.)

His face lifts. It’s like the sun bursting forth from the clouds after heavy rain, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes, blinded by the brightness and beauty. Kim Taehyung is so unfairly gorgeous (but what else is new?). “So I can give you a massage?”

Despite the fact the prospect makes you want to fling yourself into space, when you’re faced with Taehyung’s dark eyes and wide smile and large, warm hands, you cave, because of course you do. If, way back when you’d first been frying up that kimchi rice and letting Taehyung thrust his phone into your face, you’d been told you’d end up in this position, you would have laughed outright. Haha, yeah, sure, like you’d be stupid enough to let yourself be wrangled into such a vulnerable state in front of Taehyung, nowhere to run, helpless under his fingers. Not.

But here you are. Whipped for Kim Taehyung, forever and always.

The pastel blue towels under your stomach and chest are soft as they shield you from the cold, hard floor. You’re incredibly aware of how chilly the apartment feels, air prickling against your bare skin; you shift to try and get comfortable, glancing over your shoulder to fiddle with the towel that’s draped over your hips and ass, making sure it’s covering everything. Taehyung insists on authenticity (as if you’re not lying on the floor of your apartment rather than on a massage table) and he says that it’s normal to be completely naked for a full-body massage, even underneath any towels that are covering you up.

Authenticity is also why he’s in the other room, warming up the massage oil, because that’s apparently a thing?

(You’re going to die.)

It doesn’t matter that Taehyung will only be able to see the back of your head, your shoulder blades, the small of your back, a slip of your thighs, your calves. None of these things are especially scandalous; all the parts of your body that someone might find more interesting are out of sight, pressed against the floor or hidden under a layer of Egyptian cotton microfibres.

And yet you can’t help but be hyperaware of how you’re entirely unclothed. Even if it doesn’t bother Taehyung—what with, you know, the fact he’s not interested in you like that and doesn’t find you attractive at all (sigh)—embarrassment creeps hot and uncomfortable under your skin.

It just feels so crazy intimate to be laid out like this, even if people do this all the time, happily strip down to let professionals rub the tension out of their body.

(Then again, most people aren’t best friends with their masseuses and haven’t harboured long, one-sided crushes on them, either.)

Just breathe. You can do this. You love the shoulder massages that Taehyung’s been giving you; just think of this as a shoulder massage.

… A shoulder massage that involves warm oil, near-nakedness, and Taehyung’s hands sliding all over you.

… You are going to have a very long venting session with Pickles after all this.

You’re so distracted by your own self pity and distress that you don’t register the sound of Taehyung entering the room; the little pause when he steps over the threshold, feet stuttering, just for a moment. It’s only when he’s kneeling down that you notice his presence, body jolting from surprise before you let out a slip of high laughter.

“Jesus, Tae,” you say. In any other circumstance, you’d be clutching your chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He sounds genuinely apologetic.

Your cheek is pillowed on your arms. When you turn to look at your best friend you immediately regret it; he’s settled back on his ankles, knees spread wide, and you come eye-to-eye with his crotch.

In an effort to look away from his clothed dick, your gaze flies up to his face, which might be even worse. He has this intense look in his eyes, and wow, alright, you’ve never been able to see Taehyung’s face as he’s been massaging you, but you never realised exactly how seriously he seems to take it, judging from his expression.

(Do all massage therapists look like that when they work?)

“That’s alright.” You’re a little breathless, but you’re going to blame that on how your boobs are smooshed into the floor, and not on anything else, nuh uh. Shoulder massage. It’s a shoulder massage. It’s just like a full bodied shoulder massage. (Maybe if you repeat it to yourself often enough then you’ll actually start to believe it.) “Uh. Do you need me to… do anything? Or do I just lie here?”

Taehyung’s expression lightens a little at the uncertainty in your tone, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “You’re perfect right where you are,” he says, and then he reaches for the bottle of oil.

You turn your head away again, cheeks burning. There’s no way you’ll be able to handle the visual of him slicking his fingers and palms up. “Cool,” you say, voice only a little strained. “Coolcoolcoolcool.”

(It’s not cool.)

You don’t have a visual, but you do get the auditory experience thanks to the relative silence in the apartment. Goosebumps ripple down the back of your neck and trail down your spine at the sound of Tae’s hands sliding against each other, thoroughly coated in the warmed oil, and you’re so glad that you can blame it on the chill in the air.

At first, it’s okay. Taehyung starts at the parts of your body that are used to receiving his attention, though it’s different without the barrier of clothing in the way, not to mention how easily his palms glide over you, the air full of the light scent of coconut. It’s different, but manageable, and you think you just might be okay; as always, his touches are firm but careful, and your body is used to this by now, relaxing.

But. The second you feel Taehyung’s touch between your shoulder blades, you stiffen with a shiver. The oil is the perfect temperature against your skin, but you’ve always had a sensitive back; you can’t help but clench your fists, digging your fingers into your palms. Relax. Just breathe.

“You’ve got a lot of tension here.” Taehyung’s voice is low as he digs the heel of his palm into the dip of your spine.

It’s because you’re touching me there, you think to yourself, but just let out a non-committal hum of agreement instead.

You feel Taehyung's hands, a repeated sliding motion between your shoulder blades; the tension starts to leak out of you again, but your breath hitches in your throat at how you're pressed downwards and into the cotton towels beneath you, nipples hardening against them.

Thank God you're on your front so Tae can't see what effect he's having on you.

“Better?”

Taehyung's voice is always deep, but you'd swear it was even deeper in this moment, pitched low. Maybe that’s because the sound of blood pumping is filling your ears so it’s hard to discern. At this point, who even knows? Not you, that’s for sure.

“Yep.” Why are you so breathless? You haven’t moved at all, but you sound like you’ve just run the 100m sprint, winded and weak. “So much better.”

You regret agreeing to this. You are so out of your depth and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide exactly how much this is affecting you and you want to collapse in on yourself and shrivel up like a sundried tomato, tiny and wrinkly and underwhelming.

Taehyung shifts to reach more of you and you squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t come face first with his crotch again, shielding yourself from the view of his loose linen trousers stretched almost taut with how wide his knees are. It’s both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you’re saved from aforementioned view, but a curse because your sensation of touch is heightened, and all you’re aware of is his hands sliding down your sides. You’d swear those fingers were so long he could circle your waist with ease.

(Massages are meant to relax you and yet you’ve never felt so tense in your life.)

Taehyung clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I can’t get a good angle like this,” he mutters.

Before you can think anything or say anything, you become aware of the sound of moving and shifting and—

Your eyes fly open. Taehyung’s straddling your thighs, heavy and warm, and you suck in a breath so sharp and fast you can feel your chest expand, brain full of the screaming clang of warning bells. There’s no way this is a normal masseuse thing. There’s no way. It’s intimate and entirely too physical and there’s absolutely no way that this is something Taehyung learned in class.

(What is he doing?)

But then any coherent thought in your brain slips when his hands settle on you again.

They so, so lightly brush the hem of the towel that preserves your modesty, and you can’t help the full-body shiver that wracks through you. You suck your lips into your mouth, swallowing down the noise that threatens to bubble up in your throat. There’s the sensation of fingers trailing up the line of your spine, feather light, smoothed by the slide of oil, and you feel like molten lava, burning hot and bright.

“Taehyung.” Your voice is high and faint.

His fingers splay down your ribcage and run down your sides, confident and smooth, warm with that coconut-scented oil, and you’re dying, you’re living; you want to disappear, you never want this to end.

“Taehyung,�� you repeat. Your voice shakes.

He hums, low and indulgent. “Yes?”

“M-my thighs,” you stammer, unable to articulate yourself. Why are you on my thighs, oh God, you’re so warm and heavy on top of me, oh God oh God oh God.

Taehyung completely misunderstands you. “Oh? Of course.” He sounds nonchalant. “I’ll massage those next.”

You can feel the drag of his linen trousers against your skin as he moves down to rest on your calves, and hear the bottle open as Taehyung drizzles more oil over his hands, far more than he could possibly need. His palms feel so broad and warm against the smoothness of your thighs, touches firm and confident as he digs his fingers into the muscle, and, oh, fuck, this is, this is too much—

Your legs jump when Taehyung hitches the towel up, just a little, baring more of your body.

“Fuck.” You can't keep quiet any longer. “Tae, I’m fine, I’m feeling way less tense now.”

He’s still, for a moment, before his hands slide up the back of your thighs. “Are you sure? You want me to stop?”

It’s only then that you realise how deeply Taehyung is breathing, fast and low, voice rough and gravelled. His fingers rest in wait, warm and slick with oil; you’re so close to losing any modicum of modesty, only one motion away from that towel being rucked high enough that there’s nothing protecting you from Taehyung’s touch and eyes.

“I haven’t finished yet, though,” he continues, digging his thumbs into your skin as he pulls his hands down your thighs, mindlessly following the motions he’s been taught. “There’s still more to go.”

You could twist around to look at him but you’re almost afraid to look at his face, afraid of what you’d find there. He sounds as affected as you are, but there’s absolutely no way. There’s no way.

“You don’t need to do the whole massage if I’m feeling relaxed, right?”

(Because you’re feeling so relaxed right now, of course, and not like you’re about to go supernova and burst into heat and light. Absolutely.)

(But.)

(But. Taehyung’s hands settle at the back of your knees, swiping the sensitive skin with his thumbs. You can’t see his face, but you can feel something in that touch, something more than skin deep, like it’s sinking into you, through skin and muscle and bone, in in in, settling inside you, a flicker of—of—)

“Want to do this perfectly for you,” he murmurs. You clench your hands at the husky note in his voice, nails digging so hard into your palms it hurts. “You deserve the best. I want you to feel good.”

He must be able to see your back rise and fall as you breathe in sharply.

“Taehyung.” Almost pleading.

“Yes, love?”

You suck in another sharp breath. The pet name sounds so soft and sweet in his mouth, somehow, even with the heated edge to his voice. One that’s definitely there. You’re not imagining it.

(You’re not.)

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he continues.

Before you can think, you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”

You’re trembling. Taehyung’s still heavy and warm across the back of your calves, sliding one hand to the inside of a knee and up the soft skin of your inner thighs. You instinctively shift them apart, as far as you can with Taehyung trapping your legs, and, oh, his hand is going higher, oh—

His hand is so big, cupping your overheated sex. It’s hard to tell where the oil ends and your own arousal begins, flushed wet and hot; when he dips his middle finger between your lower lips, long and gentle and firm, you let out a noise you didn’t realise you were capable of. The angle is off, a little awkward, the motions of Taehyung’s fingers stifled by how you’re lying flush to the ground, but God, you’re so turned on it barely matters.

You’re hyperaware of everything. The soft touch of air on the cooling oil across your skin. The fall of the towel, bunched around your waist, slowly slipping to one side. Taehyung’s hand, his fingertips easing through the heat of you, sliding over your clit, over your entrance, slow and soft and amazing.

“Again,” you plead. “Again, Tae, please.”

“Feels good?” He asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, cheek still pillowed against your arm.

“So good,” you say. “But I want more, please, Tae.”

“Anything you want,” he murmurs.

Taehyung’s hand shifts between your legs again, so hot, so big, so reverent. The slide is smooth as his fingers press into your folds, practically gliding. You twist beneath him, letting out a noise of displeasure when he draws his hand away, but then he lifts off your calves. You let him thrust your legs apart before he resettles between them.

Just as you’re distracted with the towel being tugged away from your hips, baring you entirely, Taehyung slides a finger into your weeping cunt.

You whine. It's so long. Now that your calves aren’t trapped, there’s nothing to stop you from rutting back against his fingers. He splays his other hand over the soft flesh of your ass, encouraging the rolling motion of your hips, and you’re gasping, wanton in your noises of desire and pleasure. One finger becomes two, and then three, Taehyung’s voice a low undercurrent to your stuttered moans as he presses them as deep as he can.

“Just like that, angel,” he breathes. “Want you to feel good, keep making those pretty noises, let me know how good it is—”

“Taehyung,” you whine, dragging the syllables of his name out when he curls his fingers inside you, so amazing, hitting you in all the right places.

“Baby.” He sounds wrecked, words sliding together, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You’re so hot n’ wet, fuck. So perfect. Just like that, keep moving like that.”

You can hear the slick sounds of his thrusts into you. He’s already learned what you like, twisting his fingers in a way that leaves you breathless; they’re so fucking long, sliding into your greedy cunt with ease, reaching so much deeper than your own can. His pretty lovely hands are on you, inside you, and you’re heady at the thought.

“There, Tae, don’t stop, please, p-please.” The coil twists tighter in between your legs, a taut thread that’s ready to snap. He listens, repeating the motion that’s pulling you closer to the edge, eyes wide, staring at the way you’re writhing underneath him; the way the oil on your back and legs shimmers in the light, the evidence of his touch all over you, shining. “Tae, oh, God, right there, yes, yes, yes—”

Your entire body goes tense and then you’re cumming around Taehyung’s fingers, clenching your thighs together, trapping him inside as you buck your hips. You grind back against his hand, a loud moan falling from your lips, drowning out the noise of awe that Taehyung makes when he feels your walls pulsate around him. You're warm and tight and wet, arousal flooding thick against his skin, and he lets out a stuttered groan, fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, feeling every wave of pleasure that rocks through your core.

You’re panting by the time you settle back down and barely make a sound when Taehyung drags his fingers out of you. When he leans down the oil on your skin feels tacky against his clothes, material sticking to you, chest to back, hips to ass. You can feel the hot curve of him through his trousers, his cock heavy, getting harder—and it feels sososo good.

Taehyung’s face is so close, now, chin hooked over your shoulder. Even though you can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against you, the smile on his face is so gentle. Your heart thrums in your chest.

“So cute n' pretty,” he says, and presses his nose to the soft curve of your cheek. Rather than coconut, all you can smell is his shampoo, familiar and homely and heady. “All over. God, I can’t believe you’d let me touch you like this. I’m so lucky. Was that good, baby?”

“Yes,” you say, and then, because you’re still floating in a light haze of disbelief: “I’m the lucky one.”

Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. It’s a honeyed moment, dripping slow and sweet, even sweeter when he tilts his head forward. His lips are soft against your cheekbone, your jaw, and when you turn towards him, they’re even softer against your mouth. You can feel the shape of his smile, and it tastes so bright, small kisses that turn open mouthed, so perfect. Because you’re kissing Kim Taehyung, your Taehyung, something you’ve been dreaming about for so long, now—even if this entire situation is pretty unbelievable, honestly.

When you pull back, his eyes spark with unadulterated joy. He’s warm and heavy, pinning you down against the towels that are soft against your front; arching your spine, you lean back against the weight of Taehyung’s body, his cock fattening up through the layers of clothes that separate you. He lets out a breath of surprise before he grinds down, pressing that hard heat against you, and your cunt clenches.

“Can I finish the massage?” He asks, sounding almost eager, even with the rasp of lust in his voice. You can’t help but laugh, an affectionate giggle that has you knocking your foreheads together.

“Of course,” you say, and he catches your lips again, swallowing the last of your laughter, sweeping his tongue over your lips, inside your mouth, wet and hot and a little messy, but good.

“You need to be on your back,” Taehyung continues, slow after the kiss is broken, and, oh, okay, that has you shivering. “If you want to?”

Of course you want to.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Let me move.”

He shifts to give you room, but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the bump of the top of your spine, lips sliding against the oil that he’d rubbed there earlier, goosebumps erupting over your skin.

“So good to me,” he whispers. You don’t think he even means for you to hear it.

(It’s said without thought; not thoughtless, no, but a soft little thing that says so much. A thought that’s slipped across his mind and fallen from his lips, warm and tender. Like you’re always good to him, and he sees it, he knows it, he feels it, he thinks it, and he’s almost in disbelief about it, because you’re so good to him.)

You feel warm and languid after cumming, loose-limbed as you flop onto your back. There’s no going back now. There’s no going back from this moment, naked and vulnerable under Taehyung, nothing hidden away any more—the soft fall of your breasts, your stomach, the lines of your hips, your fingers tightening in the towels spread beneath you as Taehyung’s eyes drink you in, wide and overawed at the sight of your flushed cunt, ripe and slick and ready for him.

(There's no more hiding how much you want Taehyung to have you, body and heart alike.)

You can see the shape of your body silhouetted on his clothes, where the oil has seeped into the material from how close he’d been pressed against you. You can see just how affected he is, cock straining against the loose linen of his white trousers, and you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound you make.

“Look at you,” Taehyung breathes, kneeling between your legs. “You’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn. “Taehyung, please,” you say, embarrassed. You really aren’t, especially in comparison to model-gorgeous Kim Taehyung, eyes dark and full of heated lust, hair falling in his eyes, effortlessly beautiful, always.

“You are,” he insists. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”

Before he reaches for the massage oil, he sucks the taste of you off his fingers, sloppy and messy. Your pussy throbs at the sight. And—you were also right about the visual being too much to handle, breath catching in your throat as you watch it drip into his broad hands. His palms shine as he rubs them together, interlacing his fingers, so graceful in their motions. You’re so wet from your orgasm, only getting wetter as you stare back at Taehyung, whose gaze has been heavy on you the whole time.

He starts at your collarbones. It’s even slower than before, and you ease underneath him, revelling in the softness of his touch. He sweeps his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, circling his long fingers around your wrists before lifting one of your hands. Your eyelashes flutter as he presses a kiss to your palm, a motion so full of adoration and tenderness it steals your breath away, and you squirm, shy.

“Tae,” you whine. “You can’t just do that.”

Of course he doubles down, lifting your other hand and repeating the motion, letting his lips linger between your head line and your heart line. “I can,” he says, words warm in your cupped palm.

“I hope you didn’t do this in class.” Your voice is too weak for it to come out as the joke you mean it to be.

Taehyung just shakes his head, mouth brushing over the tips of your fingers. “Only for you,” he says. “Did the whole class for you. I wanted—wanted an excuse to touch you more,” he admits, and your heart feels like it’s going to launch itself out of your throat.

“Then touch me,” you say, trying to sound confident even if your cheeks burn.

And he does. He lets your hands drop, gliding his touch back up your arms, down your body, over your legs; he massages your thighs and calves, digs his thumbs into the arches of your feet, circling his fingers around your ankles, shackles you don’t want to escape from. You feel so relaxed and lax, somehow, even if every touch has you biting your lip, anticipation roiling in your stomach for what’s to come, Taehyung laying your legs down softly before he shifts back up, hands held out towards you—

—then he cups your breasts in his big, big hands and your back arches, fingers sliding over your nipples, glistening with coconut oil, circling them with the pads of his thumbs. You let out an embarrassing whine.

“Oh, Tae,” you beg. “More, please.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You smile at another soft, unexpected pet name, flustered, but then your eyes slide shut when Taehyung bends down to kiss your neck as he continues to run his hands over the swell of your breasts. He trails his lips over your oiled skin, shifts down, drawing a line from your neck to the valley of your chest, the hard line at the center of your ribcage.

“Tae,” you murmur, and then, feeling bold under the heat of Taehyung’s dark eyes— “Baby.”

He hums before laying another sloppy kiss against your sensitive skin. You can feel the curve of his smile in the kiss. “Yes, love?”

“Is it really okay for you to… you know… get that oil in your mouth? I don’t want you to get sick,” you say, concerned, even through the haze of your arousal. His lips shine with it, at how he’s been trailing his mouth over all the parts of your body that he’s touched.

There’s a short beat, and then Taehyung buries his head against your neck—in that little hollow that’s his, in a motion he’s done dozens of times. Except this time you’re naked and he still has fingers splayed across the soft skin of your chest, nipples dragging underneath his palms.

“You’re always so considerate.” His words are muffled against your skin. “It’s fine. It’s edible.”

“You got edible massage oil from your course?”

Taehyung hesitates. “No,” he admits. “I bought it. It’s edible and, uh. Safe for intimate use.”

You’re silent, just for a moment, and then you can’t help it. You start to laugh.

“Kim Taehyung,” you say, body shaking with amusement. “Did you buy edible massage oil that you can also use as lube?”

Taehyung pulls his face away from your neck and glances up. You’re giggling at him, and he feels so full of love and affection; he can’t help but join in, both laughing at him, loud and carefree.

“It’s why I asked which one you liked,” he confesses, once he can catch his breath.

“I can’t believe you lied to me,” you say, but you don’t mind, really, and he knows it. You lift a hand to push hair out of his face, running your fingers down his scalp. He leans into your touch with a smile, bright and lovely, before he abruptly shifts one of his hands down so he can lick a hot, wet stripe across the skin of your breast.

That stops your laughter pretty fast, surprised hiccup shifting into a broken moan when he engulfs your nipple in the heat of his mouth. “O-oh,” you gasp. “Oh, Taehyung—”

“Been thinking about this for so long.” Taehyung’s eyes are lidded and dark as he leans back, watching the way you react to his touch, arching up towards him. “Wanted to touch you like this so much.”

“Wanted it too,” you breathe. “Wanted—oh, God, Tae, fuck—”

It’s overwhelming. Not just the way Taehyung is flicking his tongue over each of your nipples, pressing his lips against your skin, no—but the idea that he’s been hoping for this, too. Each wet motion of his tongue over your pebbled skin drags pulls out of you; Taehyung’s cock twitches at a loud keen that’s drawn from your lips, a wet patch of precum seeping through his boxers and trousers, darkening the fabric, even though you haven’t touched him yet.

When you reach out to grasp him through his clothes, his hips jolt forward and he bites off a surprised gasp, cutting through the sound with his teeth. He feels long and heavy as you stroke him, thumbing over the wet patch at his tip, hot, even through all those layers between your skin and his.

“I want to feel you, Tae,” you say, staring at him. “Inside me. Please.”

His breath hitches when you tighten your fingers around his shaft and drag your hand upwards, slow and intent.

“The oil isn’t condom friendly,” he admits, abashed.

“Then you can cum in my mouth,” you reply. No hesitation.

Taehyung’s eyes are so wide, but then he smiles, eyes squeezing into crescents, mouth turning up into that lovely, broad grin of his. He looks so sweet and sincere, and you feel like you could explode, stuffed overfull with love for him.

“You really are perfect,” he says.

“Only for you,” you reply, your smile just as bright.

He lays one final kiss to your chest, above your beating heart, before he starts to strip. The oil has obviously soaked through his shirt and onto his skin because it sticks when he peels it off and carelessly throws it aside.

Just like his heart, Taehyung’s body is soft and lovely. You sit up so you can touch him properly, catching him off guard when you pull him in for a kiss—one he eagerly leans into, and without the shirt in the way you can feel the way your skin slides against his, softened with oil.

There really is no one as beautiful as Kim Taehyung. You drag your hands over him, so warm and wonderful under your palms; his chest, his cute tummy, his waist, his hips, the soft skin above his red, neglected cock. He’s radiant in his nakedness, every easing line of his body so perfect as he kneels in front of you, the flush of his skin, the heavy weight of his arousal, head shining with precum, so wet it’s practically dripping.

You lean in to kiss his neck and nip at his Adam's apple as his hands slide over your shoulder blades and down your back, the parts that make you shudder.

“Want you, Tae.” You whisper into his mouth, a soft secret that isn’t really a secret at all, not any more. “All of you.”

“Going to give you everything you want.” The words flow out of him with ease. “Everything you want.”

His chest and stomach shine with the massage oil that’s rubbed off from your own skin. You run your hands across him, and when you finally grasp his cock without the barrier of cloth in the way, he’s almost burning under your grasp, thick, his entire body shuddering when you pump his length. So sensitive to your touch.

“I’m goin’ to make you cum again,” he promises, and you love it, the way he talks when he’s losing himself. “Bet you’ll feel so good around my cock, so perfect.”

A shiver skates through your body. Taehyung’s fingers dig into your skin when he feels you trembling under his hands, and all you can think about is how you want him in you.

“Please,” you say. “Please, wanna make you feel good too—”

“Hands and knees, angel,” he rasps, and, God, yes, those words cut straight through you, sharp and electric.

Maybe you should feel embarrassed at how quickly you obey. The towels underneath you, so carefully placed at the start, perfectly flat, become rumpled as you shift into position; you arch your back, wanting to look as good as possible, and glance over your shoulder to see if it works.

Judging from the look on Taehyung’s face, it does. He looks like he’s never seen anything more awe-inspiring, eyes wide and mouth a little slack, dumbstruck. But then his jaw snaps shut and he splays his hands over the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your ass, shuffling closer to you; you feel the curve of his cock slide against your skin and you bite back a noise of need.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He ruts forward, and you can feel the wetness of his precum slicking against you, a beaded line drawn across the sheen of massage oil. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”

“Tae,” you plead, already overwhelmed with need, heart squeezing at his words.

“Just one more thing, angel, I promise.”

It’s a good thing that the bottle of massage oil is so big, considering how liberal Taehyung is with it. You gasp when he uses one hand to spread your ass and before you can react there’s a drizzle of oil falling onto your skin, down-down-down, over your cunt, dripping over your inner thighs; Taehyung catches the excess with his palms before he slicks himself up, spreading that sweet coconut over his throbbing cock.

(You wonder what it’ll taste like when you lick it off him.)

When you feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at your pussy, your entire body lights up in anticipation, nerve endings on fire, every inch of your body singing under Taehyung’s touch—and when he finally sinks in, it’s almost effortless. He’s thick and long but everything slides so easy; you gasp and he moans, both lost in how your body opens up for him, hot and wet. By the time he’s bottomed out you're a quivering mess, collapsed onto your elbows. You’re so full. You feel split open in all the best ways, wanting to draw him in impossibly deeper even so.

Taehyung is gripping your sides, hands unmoving even with the slick oil underneath them, fingers digging into your skin. He’s breathing so loud, and when you experimentally shift your hips, he bites back a noise that cuts through that breath.

“How’s it feel, love?” His words slur together in arousal, but the hand that strokes your back is slow, thoughtful. “Feel good?”

“Fuck me, Tae, baby, please,” you beg. It’s so, so so much, so good, amazing, hotter and bigger and harder than anything you’d let yourself imagine, your entire body taking Taehyung and holding him in, in, in. “Please, I need it, it feels good but I want more, please.”

When he pulls away it’s slow and torturous and he goes so far he almost slips out, cock nearly sliding out of your folds. You whine, a little shameless, mostly needy, but then—

The snap of his hips drives you forwards, towels shifting underneath as you scrabble for a hold on something. Each sharp motion of Taehyung’s body has you choking for air and letting out whimpers and gasps, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin; his hipbones meet the soft flesh of your ass, again and again, but all you can focus on is the thick heat of his cock inside you, in-out-in-out, the press of his balls against your clit, everything so wet and smooth and slick.

You can feel how you’re losing yourself to that heady place that’s golden bright with feeling, lust and sex, the rest of the world gone, unimportant. There’s nothing but this—Taehyung touching you, filling your body so well, so perfect, helping you chase that high that’s growing faster and faster, that precipice of pleasure that he’s going to throw you over again, intent on it.

One of his hands trails up your back, between that sensitive dip of your shoulder blades and into your hair, locks tangling with coconut oil before he urges you up. He doesn’t yank or pull but his hold is firm and you end up back on your hands, arms trembling as you try to keep your balance, back bowed, overwhelmed.

“Baby,” he rasps. “Oh, you’re so tight n’ hot, so pretty, fuck. You feel so good, do you feel good?”

Your answer is almost a wail, so overcome with pleasure, sensation, the glide of his hands over your shining skin, the mix of oil and arousal that drips out of you, only getting wetter with each thrust of his hips into you. “So good, o-oh God, Tae, baby, fuck, oh, theretherethere—”

“Here?”

He punctuates this with a roll of his hips, using the hand still on your hip to pull you back onto his cock as he fills you up once more, throbbing heat. He bends over you, and this time, there’s nothing stopping the skin on skin contact, the slide of his chest against your back as he kisses the soft skin behind your ear, nipping at your lobe, and that’s it, you’re gone. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth falls open as another orgasm crashes through you, legs shaking as you cum around Taehyung’s cock, grinding back against him to drag out that pleasure; the only thing holding you up is the hand still in your hair, the lips trailing up the side of your bared neck, the hard cock inside you, keeping you against him, so many points of connection with Taehyung.

(His chest pressed against your back, heart beating so hard you can feel it, your own heart moving in tandem, matching him.)

He’s been whispering filth to you, heated praise and love, how good you feel, how beautiful you are, what it’s like to see you like this, touch you like this, have you like this. Lovely, pretty, perfect, gorgeous, hot n’ wet n’ tight, fuck, love, oh.

You’re still shivering, the final pulses of your orgasm curling through you with each unintentional shift of Taehyung’s hips, the drag of his length inside your inner walls. You can feel something dripping out of you; oil, cum, you don't know, but fuck, it feels so so good.

“Oh, God,” you say. Breathless. “Oh, Taehyung, oh.”

“Pretty darling,” he murmurs. He swivels his hips, grinding against you, and your entire body jolts with oversensitivity, clit swollen where his balls press against it. You tighten around him and groan at how hot and big he still feels inside, even as you still shiver from the come down of your second orgasm. “Gonna roll you over so I can see that perfect face.”

And when you’re on your back again, fucked out and mussed and wrecked, he just stares at you. You’ve watched his face for so long, seen so many expressions flit across his features, but never something like this—it’s a mix of amazement and awe and tenderness and lust and love, a lift to his brows and a spark in his eyes and a set to his lips.

And when he leans down to kiss you, that look doesn’t leave. It melts and softens around the edges as you catch each other's mouths, as you kiss and kiss, small tender things interspersed with longer, deeper touches, lips and teeth and tongue—his eyes darken and his mouth flushes darker pink, kiss swollen and so beautiful, but that expression stays. It stays for you.

Kim Taehyung is beautiful and lovely and unique. Kim Taehyung is so far out of your reach it’s kind of stunning, actually. And yet, here you are, existence of his touch over every part of you, in every part of you, lust driven, love full; the carefully balanced weight of his body splayed over you, pinning you down, keeping you close.

“I wanna see you cum, Tae,” you say. “Please?”

And just like he always does, Taehyung indulges you, just like you indulge him. He presses back inside you, cunt opening up for him so easy, so smooth, like his touch has already been etched into the memory of your body, perfect for him. He stays pressed close, face so near as he rolls into each thrust, sweat and coconut oil painted across your skin as your bodies shift together.

He’s been covering you in his words, both heated and sweet, and now you return the favour. You tell him how good he feels, how beautiful he is, so good, so perfect, so considerate, how much you’ve wanted this. So good, so long and thick, oh, Tae, feels so good, ah-ah-ah, baby, you’re unreal, fuck.

You can see the exact moment he starts to reach his high, the way he sucks in air, the way he lifts his chin, starts to thrust a little harder, a little faster, chasing that thread of pleasure that’s spiralling through him, and you urge him on. You lift your hips and clench so tight it has him gasping, hips stuttering, and you press your nose against his jaw, saying give it to me give it to me give it to me, wanting him to feel the same pleasure he’s given you.

When he pulls out, you’re too busy moving to pay attention to how empty you feel, settling between his legs and swallowing down his shining cock almost desperately. There’s no coconut. You can only taste yourself and when you lave your tongue across his slit it’s all Taehyung-Taehyung-Taehyung, hot and salt and bitter; he gasps and his hips jump and you take it all, lowering your head as far as you can, the head of his cock at the back of your throat before you pull up, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein at the underside, messy and wet. You drink down the wetness of his cock, your own arousal, mixed with his, the precum that beads at his head, staring up at him, your hands sliding over the sheen of his stomach, his thighs, cupping his balls, everything slick with oil and sweat.

“Oh, God.” Taehyung’s eyes are blown and his hair is a mess and his mouth is wide open as he pants for air, watching. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

You suck hard, dragging your lips up from the base of the cock to the rounded tip, swirling your tongue, bobbing your head faster—

“Oh, fuck—”

—and you swallow down each wave of cum, swallow down the way his cock twitches as he spills the evidence of pleasure into your mouth, swallow down the lovely noises that shudder out of him, watching him the whole time, never wanting to look away.

When you take your mouth off his softening cock, you draw a line of kisses with your mouth, up the soft skin of his body, stomach to chest to neck to mouth. He licks the taste of coconut oil off your lips, the taste of himself off your tongue; you curl up in his lap, settled against him, the apartment’s cool air even sharper against your skin, magnified by the oil that still lingers.

(Even without the oil painted across him, Taehyung would still shine, even under the weak light from the cheap lightbulb that hangs above you.)

You feel soft and warm and small in the circle of Taehyung’s arms, pulled close, and you can hear the words in his chest as he speaks, a resonance that touches against your skin.

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs.

You pause.

“Baby, love, darling.” The endearments are sugar sweet in your mouth, soft against his skin before you pull back to look at him, confused, concerned. “Sorry for what?”

“I really—I really was just planning to do a massage, but you’re so…”

You let out a slip of laughter. The room smells of coconut and sex, but when you lay your head against Taehyung’s collarbone all you can smell is the light tinge of his sweat. You breathe in, deep, like you can hold onto that ephemeral part of him. “Oh, Tae. I’m so what?”

“You’re so good,” he says. “So good and kind and lovely and—and so beautiful. I was going to do the massage to make you happy and then… tell you. About how happy you make me.”

You burrow your head into the hollow of his neck, the way he does to you, shy. “I’m not as beautiful as you,” you reply. “Tae, you are literally the most beautiful person alive, and—God, I’ve. I’ve been. So head over heels for you.”

There’s a pause. “Really?”

When you pull back to fix Taehyung with all the surprise in your gaze, you can see that he’s surprised, too. His hair hangs into his eyes, and he looks a little unsure, like he believes you, but finds it impossible to fathom.

You leave massage oil on his cheeks when you cup his face in your hands, staring at him with wide eyes. “Kim Taehyung, I have had daily breakdowns about the intensity of my love for you to Pickles ever since we got him. You’re the first person I think about each morning—usually because we wake each other up—and the last thing I think about at night—well, usually because you end up climbing into my bed more often than not, but, it still counts,” you say. You’re both tangled together in so many ways already. “You’ve had my heart for a long time, you know. I just never thought I had a chance?”

When Taehyung kisses you, it’s brief, a hard press of his lips before he rests his forehead against yours. “You really, really have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted—I want to do everything for you to show you how grateful I am for everything you do for me.”

“You don’t have to,” you protest, but he just smiles.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he says. “Like you don’t have to look after me, but you do.”

“That’s because I love you,” you say. “Like, capital L love you.”

You’ve been so afraid of confessing, so convinced that it was an unattainable dream; that Kim Taehyung would never, could never, has never seen you as more than a friend. But the way he’s looking at you now, the way he’s touched you, the way your body still echoes with the feeling of him inside you: you’re not scared, any more. You don’t need to be.

Taehyung’s eyes are so dark and warm when he replies, easy and effortless. “I love you, too.”

Your relationship has always been a give and take, is the thing. When you climb in the shower together, he washes the oil from your back while you massage shampoo into his scalp, laughing when he makes devil horns in his hair. He catches you by surprise when he presses you against the tiles, swallowing your moans when he coaxes one final orgasm from your tired body, rubbing tight circles over your clit as you buck against his hand and water cascades over you both. His cock hardens in your hands, sliding between your legs when you press them together, tight-tight-tight, his length rubbing against your cunt as he fucks your thighs until he’s moaning and shaking and cumming again.

(The water’s cold by the time you finally climb out, but that’s okay. You giggle and kiss as you dry yourselves, each other, excuses to keep touching and feeling, driven by affection, not lust.)

When you’re both clean, and dry, Taehyung’s leg thrown over your hip as he tugs you in, flush with his body under the covers, you press your lips against the line of his jaw.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, angel?”

You smile and hunch up even closer to him, scrunching yourself up as small as you can to plaster yourself against his side. “Thank you for the wonderful massage. Definitely the best massage I’ve ever been given, ten out of ten, would do again.”

Taehyung laughs, pressing his rectangular smile into the kiss he lays against your lips, and you think that nothing tastes better than the happiness curling his mouth.

“Love you,” he murmurs. Always romantic. “I love you love you love you.”

“Tae-honey-hyung.” And it feels so nice to not have to filter your words, to bite back that second layer of meaning, to try and keep things platonic and chaste when you speak. “I love you.”

And it feels so nice to have your Taehyung beside you, your body still aching with the press of him inside you, a good ache, a nice ache. A physical ache from good love, rather than a heartache from a love you didn’t think was reciprocated. But it is, somehow, each of you so bowled over by each other.

(“Hey, Pickles.”

The bearded dragon looks up at you, placid as he lounges in his tank.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that you won’t have to put up with me ranting at you any more,” you say. “Taehyung did break out the massage oil but it’s all good. I didn’t spontaneously combust or anything, like I thought I would.”

Pickles’ tongue flicks out as he shifts, and you smile.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m done,” you finish. “Thanks, Pickles. You’re a real pal.”

Taehyung nuzzles into your neck. His arms are a tight circle around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he looks down at the reptile, too. He’s warm and solid against your back, and you lean into him, happiness tingling through you.

“I wonder how much longer we would have taken if you didn’t get that coupon for a massage therapy course,” you muse, and Taehyung chuckles, warm and lovely.

“We would have gotten there eventually. And we would have had each other until we did, anyway. Right, angel?”

Pickles stays quiet as you both kiss, but you can tell he approves.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

#magicshopnet #btswritingcafe #taehyung smut #taehyung oneshot #taehyung x reader #bts #bts smut #v smut #v oneshot #v x reader #taehyung #taehyung fluff #bts oneshot #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist

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malarki · 3 years

Text

Harry Potter FanFiction I greatly enjoy (it’s just tomarry and sevitus)

Fair warning, I’m not good at describing stuff, and most of these are not complete (yet) but if you have similar tastes as I do then you’ll definitely like these stories.

Meddling of a Mischief Maker - by Athy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380535/chapters/12427268

I enjoy this fic because it shows a more human Voldemort with him still being an asshole as per usual. They do a good job of having Voldemort believably change into a not crazy murderous bastard haha. It also has Sirius interacting with Voldemort and for some reason I find those scenes hilarious in any fic I read.

“Harry's being a horcrux is a bit reworked here in this AU Story set during the summer after 5th year. A Mischief Maker intervenes in the Ministry during Voldemort and Dumbledore's duel, changing the course history. MorallyGrey!Dumbledore, Sirius, Restored Souls, HP/TR”

Draw Me After You (Let Us Run) - by ToAStranger @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327684/chapters/53334382

This story is a delight, it’s tone is very good and they do a great job of writing in the characters ‘voices’ for their pov’s. I especially like the posh way Voldemort talks and acts. This story is also hilarious on top of just being a very good slowburn, AND it has Sirius, which as you might have guessed, I love dearly. They also don’t bash any of the characters, and instead make them well rounded but flawed individuals, which I really appreciate.

“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years.

Slowly, carefully, Harry twists over and pushes up onto his hands and knees. He stays there, short breath fogging in front of his face, and his pursuer lets him. Harry has no doubt of that; he’s being allowed this respite. This small moment to catch his bearings, heart pounding in his ears, blood singing.

“It seems I have finally caught you.”

Consuming Shadows - by Child_OTKW @childotkw

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7040089/chapters/16011331

I’ve read two of childOTKW’s fics and both of them are fantastically written and attention grabbing stories. This one was the first one I read, and it has a very interesting take on lily Potter (one which I really enjoy) and the plot can leave you on the edge of your seat at times. The characterization is great, and the process of Harry and Tom getting to know each other is done very well.

“His attention skipped passed the students and moved to the politicians’ pavilion. His gaze locked with crimson, and he nearly faltered under the sheer hunger in those eyes.

It unnerved him how fixated the man was on his dirtied, exhausted figure.

But what troubled him more was the slight smirk he could make out on the man’s lips. It was almost pleased.

On the night of the attack, Lily managed to escape with her infant son, but at the cost of her husband’s life. Distraught and distrusting of her friends, she fled to France with Harry, to raise him away from the corruption in Britain and the rising influence of the Dark Lord. She trains him to the best of her abilities, shaping him into a dangerous, intelligent and powerful wizard.

But when Britain re-establishes the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry is forced to return to his once-home, he finds himself questioning whether he really wants to kill the Dark Lord. Voldemort finds an unexpected challenge in the child, and as his intrigue and amusement grows, so too does the desire to possess the spark in those defiant green eyes.”

A story that is kind of similar but not really: The Train to Nowhere

You Belong To Me (I Belong To You) - by child_OTKW

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270490/chapters/25203408

This is a story inspired by the manwha ‘At The End Of The Road’ by Haribo. A comic I read before reading this, which is very good I recommend it. They do not take the exact plot from the comic though, obviously changing significant details for it to work properly as a Tomarry Fic, but one main thing stays the same, which is that this is a body swap. Honestly I really enjoy childOTKW’s works, and this is no exception. The characterization is wonderful as always, and Harry is Fantastic. Plus I’ve always been a fan of time travel fics. (Fair warning this is another slow burn and Harry centric)

“What I find absolutely fascinating,” Riddle said, stalking closer, “is you.” He marched forward, backing Harry up until he was pinned to the cool wall of the common room. “Do you know why?”

“No. And I’ll be honest here, Riddle, I don’t particularly care.”

The taller boy grinned at him, small yet infinitely pleased. “That. Right there.” One hand rose and brushed some of Harry’s fringe from his face. “Nathan Ciro was a spineless little boy too afraid of his own shadow to dare even glance in my direction. But you…”

He leaned closer, “You look at me like you want to stab me.”

“After an accident, Auror Harry Potter wakes up in the body of fourteen year old Nathan Ciro, a tormented Slytherin who recently tried to end his own life. Seeking answers to his strange predicament, Harry returns to Hogwarts, and causes quite the stir through staff and students - especially when they come to realise he is not the same boy as before.

He tries to avoid suspicion, but as his quest for the truth draws more and more attention to him, Harry begins to think that he might not like what he will discover.”

Some Bonus AU tomarry

A Thousand Paths Among The Stars - by Haplessshippo @haplesshippo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015060/chapters/27191238

This is a star trek au and it’s honestly my favorite tomarry au fic. Granted, I am a huge sci-fi fan. There’s also a bit of a twist at the end, or at least it surprised me, due to the way we usually expect tomarry plots to go.

“Harry Potter, newly appointed Captain of the Marauder and son of the famous Captain James Potter, was falling apart at the seams. His crew didn’t respect him, he was lost in the empty expanse of space, nightmares plagued his sleep, and his Commander deserved the Captain position more than he did. Good thing multiple attempts on his life and a vicious warlord after his head was all it took to turn it all around.

Alternatively, that space fic in which Harry Potter almost dies too many times, Tom Riddle slowly becomes the most smitten fool on the ship, and the rest of the crew are all just a bunch of assholes with popcorn watching the show. And exploding ships, don't forget the exploding ships.”

The Matchmaker - by TanninTele

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507676/chapters/38664089

I am ALSO a huge true crime fan, and this story has a criminal that kinda reminds me of one that might appear in Hannibal (but with less murder). I enjoy the characterization, though tom is pretty tame in this compared to more cannon fics, considering he’s not the criminal and instead an investigator. Harry is also different from how people usually portray him, but I still like it.

“'The Matchmaker' is a serial abductor whose modus operandi consists of pairing two same-sex individuals together in a coffin, six feet underground - buried alive. He isn't a killer. He's a kidnapper with morals, and Detective Chief Inspector Tom Riddle finds himself obsessed with solving the case.

Unfortunately for Tom, the Matchmaker is just as intent on knowing him.”

And on to the Sevitus Stories

Far Beyond A Promise Kept - by oliversnape

https://archiveofourown.org/works/547431/chapters/974693

A classic, Harry stays with snape and unintentionally proves all his assumptions wrong and makes snape care about him. Both the stories have this aspect, but this one has snape a bit nicer from the get go. Probably because it takes place during the third book, so they’ve only known each other two years. It’s quite wholesome though, and I rather enjoy the progression of their relationship.

“Snape never wanted anyone to know of his promise to Dumbledore, but has realised that he can protect Potter much better by taking a less passive role in the boy's training. Actually liking Harry Potter has never been part of his plan. mentor/guardian.”

Crime And Punishment - by melolcatsi

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102232/chapters/58018174

Snape and Harry have way more of a rocky start in this one, and Snape having to pick Harry up from the police station Really Doesn’t Help Snape’s opinion of him. This story very realistically shows the progression of their relationship, going from enemies to family, and near the ‘end’ (it’s not finished) it becomes very wholesome with Snape trying to help Harry with his mental and physical health after years of abuse/ neglect.

“Harry is accused of burglary. The Dursleys leave him to rot. Dumbledore sends Snape to remedy the situation. Harry finds himself in the care of an irate Snape. Not slash, gen-fic w/ focus on Sevitus relationship. Angst galore. Warnings: coarse and suggestive language, mentions of abuse/neglect. Un-betaed and un-Britpicked.”

#tomarry #tom riddle #harry potter #sevitus #severus snape #fanfic #fanfic reccomendation #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #tom riddle x harry potter

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myrulia · 3 years

Text

"You Taste Sweeter" - Kokushibou x Self Conscious!Reader

.｡.:*✧Synopsis: You are rather self conscious of yourself and it becomes bothersome to your Upper Moon of a lover. How will you react to you being beneath him and having sweets drizzled all over you, all the while being treated like fragile candy?

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Food play, body worship, praising, dirty talk

.｡.:*✧Word count: 4225

`` Does this look decent? `` You asked whilst slowly turning around to meet the gaze of your one and only, Kokushibou. The Upper Moon One was simply sitting on your shared bed and eyeing your standing form that changed into the fifth outfit of the hour. Truth be told, he was annoyed with your constant switches and why you cared so deeply about others opinion. At the end of the day, if you are comfortable then why worry?

`` [Y/N], choose a kimono already. This is the 5th one and my statement still stands, choose the first one and get it over with, `` said Kokushibou with a harsh tone. You knew he leisurely became aggravated at your hesitancy to decide on an outfit. The process could have been done an hour ago - and yet here you are, standing in front of your mirror with furrowed eyebrows and glaring at your lover. `` Darling, it is not as easy as you make it seem- ``

`` Then what is stopping you? ``

His sudden interruption made you go as quiet as a field mouse. Your back stiffened and it was obvious your entire body became tense. As always, Kokushibou had read you like a book and there was nothing you could do to outsmart him. Sighing out, you allowed your shoulders to drop to relax your stiffened muscles, still standing before the Upper Moon in slight shame that you allowed yourself to hide the truth from him for so long. You did not wish to take so long with choosing a measly outfit - in fact it never took you this long before - but this night was different. It started a little after sundown when you first looked at yourself in nothing but basic lingerie to analyze yourself, and the more you looked, the more you found more imperfections about yourself. You thought to yourself that Kokushibou deserved better than less than perfect, and thinking of the many beautiful humans and demons you have seen in your lifetime, you have come to realize just how truly indifferent you are.

As you were lost in thought, your much taller lover stood up from your shared bed, now taking slow strides to you until he was directly in front of you, placing his much larger hands on your shoulders and heaving out a small breath before speaking - supposedly attempting to de-escalate his aggravation. `` [Y/N], what are you not telling me? ``

In that annoyingly husky voice, Kokushibou leant down to your left ear, speaking in such a deep tone that you had to readjust the clothes that suddenly became tight on your skin. The demon then stood straight with his hands still on your smaller form, all the while you had to recollect yourself in order to speak your truth to your lover. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, you look into the pair of eyes in the middle, finally speaking. `` I have felt uncomfortable in my own skin as of late. I feel like I am not good enough because there are many more beautiful women to choose from so I do not know why you would choose me. ``

This time he let you speak, processing what you said and scoffing in both disbelief and offense. His glare became more prominent on his features so suddenly you felt smaller than what he usually makes you feel. Removing your gaze from his golden irises, you look down at the tatami mat flooring to ignore the internal shame you felt for feeling such ways. It is not like you could control those emotions, you felt as though you could not be compared to any other women your eyes have fallen upon. They were beyond gorgeous and that was a fact you accepted the more you thought about your imperfections.

`` Look at me. ``

His demanding tone lead to your head to snap in the direction of his own, which caused your chin to naturally tilt up. Your lip was quivering - yet barely noticeable because you wanted to look strong for your even stronger lover. Of course, his supernatural vision allowed him to notice every single detail about you, and so he obviously saw the pained expression on your face that you were struggling to hide. Sighing and shaking his head, Kokushibou runs a thumb over your bottom, glossy lip before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss onto your plump lips. You immediately let out a small whimper as your walls basically became crumbling down, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace.

Your lips practically lunged at his, tasting him for all he is worth while his did the same, indulging himself in your flavor until that is all he could detect on his taste receptors. A kiss that went from something so delicate and innocent now turned salacious and lust-filled. Your back was met with the hard surface of the wall from Kokushibou forcefully pushing you, and so you let out a small gasp that parted your lips yet they were quickly silenced with his landing on yours once more. You were trapped in his embrace in that moment with your small whimpers being hushed by his lips ravaging yours hungrily, obviously wanting something more out of the already heated kiss. Although oxygen was also needed so he withdrew himself from you, all the while you were left a mess and leaning against the wall for support. A hand of yours made its way onto the demon's hair, raking your fingers through the mess until you successfully pulled his ponytail out from its hold.

While you both chased after your much needed breath, calloused hands moved from your shoulders to your waist, yet positioned themselves at your thighs and hoisted you up on the wall. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself from falling onto the floor, but just as quickly as you also wrapped your arms around his neck, Kokushibou kept his hands firm on your thighs. He sauntered back to your shared bed and placed you gently on the mattress, standing in between your thighs that refused to let him go. The Upper Moon took note of your actions and let out a small chuckle, just before wiping away any stray hairs that had fallen on your face. `` Please wait for me, I need to grab something from the other room. ``

You pouted at his sudden announcement of leaving due to the fact that he already managed to get you this bothered in your own clothes, feeling as though you are suffocating in them. `` Fine, but do hurry, I need you. ``

He simply nodded before placing your legs back down and stepping out of the room quickly to grab who knows what. While your lover is unfortunately gone, your hands spring to strip your body of the overly smothering kimono on your body. You discarded the unnecessary clothing onto the floor, taking no note of the small noise you heard outside of the sliding door connecting to the hallway of your home.

Whilst you were stuck in the bedroom being impatient as ever, Kokushibou who looked around for a certain something was having a hard time locating the item he acquired merely a few days ago. He let out a low grunt of dissatisfaction multiple times until he successfully located the one thing he desired.

Chocolate.

Not just any chocolate, chocolate syrup that he had many plans with. Having said substance in hand, he strolls back to your shared bedroom only to be met with the sight of your body in nothing but a simple underwear set, but the one thing that caught all six of his eyes was your fingers plunging in and out of your cunt whorishly. Your eyes were closed so you were not aware of his entrance, your cheeks being flushed from the feeling of your fingers - yet it was not enough to pleasure yourself. You twisted and writhed, your legs being clenched shut trying to feel more from yourself, yet you could not satisfy your own needs no matter how rigorously you moved your two digits.

Kokushibou, who continued to move undetected, placed the chocolate onto the bedside table, moving to stand in front of you once completed with the simple task. He could not lie, he was enjoying the sight of you not being able to get yourself off without the help of himself, yet despite enjoying the small little show you were not aware of giving him, his hand finds your wrist, grabbing you gently to stop your movements. You peel your eyes open to meet his gaze, your faces being inches from each other. `` I- I am so sorry- ``

`` There is nothing to apologize for, but my star, let me make you feel how beautiful you are instead. ``

Your cheeks flushed even more once Kokushibou began crawling onto the bed, pulling down your panties by the hem, slowly gliding them down your legs until they were completely off and throwing them to the side as well. His other hand trailing up your thigh and spreading your legs to reveal the delicious sight of your dripping pussy pulsating in such desire for him. You crawled backwards until your back hit the wall once more, meaning you were trapped and at his disposal as always. The male kept his eyes fixated on you and your flustered state that was so easy to cause. You turned your head away feeling flushed and heated in your lower reigns, but you refused to admit to such things. `` [Y/N] I want you to look at me as I pleasure you. ``

His voice returned to the same husky tone he used earlier to seduce you into doing such naughty things, so you found yourself staring into his golden irises again and longing for his touch, his scent to overwhelm your nose, his cock bending your mind to pleasure. You desired him and it was no point in hiding such a fact. There were no words that needed to be uttered in order for Kokushibou to understand just exactly what you needed - but that does not mean he is not going to be a tease about it.

Laying you down gently, he now has both hands interlocked with yours, hovering above your almost entirely exposed body while the only thing exposed of his was his chest and abdomen. It was a habit of his to wander around your shared living space in nothing but a measly hakama that teased the living hell out of you, and even now, it seemed like the fabric was mocking you again, blocking your view of his muscular body above yours. `` My love, I never want you to feel like you are anything less than utterly beautiful. You will forever be the brightest star in my life and nothing can change that. Please do not feel those things about yourself ever again, otherwise the punishment will be far worse than this. ``

`` What do you mean punishme- oh, `` you managed to let out a small gasp at the end of your questioning sentence in view of the fact that your lover grabbed something you never would have even guessed he owned, drizzling the light brown substance all over your lower abdomen. The cold feeling being left on your exposed skin caused you to squirm - just a bit - so you could adjust yourself to the temperature, and seeing you struggle was amusing to the demon before you. A large hand glides up your arms, stopping just in front of your still covered chest by that accursed bra of yours, so in one swift movement, it is ripped from your body and in shreds on the floor. You let out a miniscule whimper at your nipples now being exposed to the cold air around you.

Kokushibou's hands then trailed to your cold, erected nipples, fondling with the two sensitive buds while watching your face scrunch at the tease of pleasure he was giving you. Bucking your hips up, you whine much more audibly this time, making your needs and wants known to the Upper Moon because the teasing was driving you mad. A deep chuckle escaped his lips. Now leaning his head forward, his tongue probes out from his mouth and landing on your skin, coaxing the wet muscle with the chocolate he drizzled all over your stomach without shame. He continued to eye your expression, only to see that your eyes were closed and your head was now tilted back. He figured your nipples got the teasing they deserved so he pressed the pad of his thumb on the buds before gripping your breasts entirely, kneading the two globes while his tongue explored your body.

You writhed beneath him each time his fangs would brush against your skin, multiple shivers emitting from your spine that caused you to shiver. The feeling of his tongue on your body trailing up in between the valley of your breast was mind numbing and your toes curled at this. Kokushibou knew what he was doing as he got closer and closer to his face, his tongue being lathered in chocolate and saliva, the two substances that made a dangerous combination on your skin. You refused to open your eyes because now your cheeks were crimson all over again. You never would have expected such acts from a demon like the Upper Moon, and yet here you are underneath him being treated like royalty almost.

`` I will not ask this again [Y/N], open your eyes and look at me. ``

You followed his orders - slowly. It was on purpose just to see how far he is willing to go to get his point across. Yes you were going to be a brat about it, but gradually become worse over time.

Once your eyes were fixated on him, his hand that was on your left breast gripped your cheeks, which caused your lips to be puckered open and you looked in shock as the demon spat in your mouth before exerting his lips onto yours. His tongue forcibly entered your mouth, allowing you to taste the sweet chocolate on his taste buds that was being transferred to yours, saliva getting in the mix until you could not tell who's was who's. Your hands that were originally gripped the bedsheets now wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer until your chest was pressed against his. Soon you pulled away for oxygen, and it took one glance in each other's eyes to know what the latter wanted. `` Kokushibou I am sorry for wasting o-our time. Please do not tease for long. I need you to fulfill my needs. ``

`` Do not worry, your needs will be fulfilled when I say so, my star, `` Kokushibou said in a lower tone, letting go of your face and breast to finally rid of the difficult hakama covering his own erection. He quickly discarded the fabric and threw it onto the floor beside the bed, looking down at you with a fire ablaze in his eyes, peering at your body having chocolate smeared all over, but he is not done with the sweet treat just yet. `` It does not seem like you are doing much about my needs darling. ``

`` Do not worry, they will soon enough, just be patient, `` he reassured while caressing your face ever so gently with his fingers. The gesture was gentle and loving in a sense, yet you felt his girthy length invaded your already flexing pussy. Your eyes fluttered back as you do nothing but surrender yourself to complete bliss. `` Kokushibou! Warn m-me..! ``

`` You do not deserve a warning, this is a punishment..- after all, `` he snarled in response. His calloused hands found yours, taking the chance to interlock your fingers and stare down at your beautiful irises. `` You deserve to feel what it is like to be loved, and so I will not stop until you know just how beautiful you are. ``

You simply nodded, not really knowing what else to do in that moment since you felt so full because of his cock alone. You tried to adjust yourself, yet your walls continued to contract and clench on his length, and that was all it took for the male to start his slow, yet hard thrusts. He pulled out slowly, barely to the tip, before slamming himself back inside you. You inhaled sharply before letting out a loud, breathy moan, rolling your hips so you can ease the fiery pain and pleasure that overflooded your senses throughout your entire body. Kokushibou let out a deep groan before it quickly changed into an also breathy moan, tilting his head back whilst his hands started to grip yours. He was losing control and it was obvious with how every vein pulsed on his body and became more prominent.

Moan after moan escaped your lips each time he continuously rammed his length deep inside you, reaching every goddamn spot inside of your silky insides covered in your delectable juices that made it much more easier for Kokushibou to slide in and out of your hole effortlessly. The hard rutting of his hips against yours became bruising due to the fact that his thrusts were roughly inflicting pleasure to your pussy and your skin would meet with his every time. It was too much and he barely did anything.

Your hands wormed out of his to get a better grip of something, anything, just to calm the electrifying waves of pleasure taking over your nervous system as a whole, so you moved your hands to his back and clawed at his skin for dear life. The action earned you a low growl from Kokushibou who had to grip onto the bedsheets for dear life just to hold himself up. Your nails digging into his back was painful - but enjoyable to know that he is pleasuring you this well - yet very far from done.

`` Enjoying yourself? `` He mocked whilst finally looking down at whatever ruined state you were already in. Your eyes had managed to roll back fully, your tongue being partially lolled out of your gaping mouth. Sweat droplets managed to form on your face due to the sheer amount of force his thrusts had. You nodded your head quickly in response, not being able to let out anything else except for moans of his name and moans in general, which was such a radiant sight to see for Kokushibou who knew just what to do to have you seeing stars. He himself was becoming pleasure blinded, for his slow yet rough paced was slowly becoming more rapid as more perspiration formed on his chest, forehead, arms, and lower abdomen. It was a sexy sight to say the least as groan after breathy groan came from his lips, but that quickly latched onto the side of your throat, biting the flesh - yet not enough to actually tear skin. `` Do..- Do you think I am done with you? This was just the start [Y/N]. ``

You could not conjure up a proper response, just a loud moan as you felt a hardened tip kiss against the entrance of your cervix. The feeling sent more shocks of pleasure throughout your nervous system, your breath hitching and your face scrunching up once more. `` I believe you will.. try your best!- Ngh- But what will you do.. if you do n-not succeed? ``

`` That will not happen.. rest assured. You will not know anything else but just how much of a beautiful person you are, o-okay? `` You could have sworn you heard Kokushibou out of all demons stutter on his own words. Your walls began clamping down on his cock that continued to fill your insides with each rough movement, so you felt yourself becoming closer to your climax than you had hoped.

Your chests were practically glued together from the combined sweat of your bodies as his pace never faltered, only continuing to further quicken and add on to your mind going foggy. `` I cannot have you going blank just yet, stay with me, my love. ``

His words went in one ear and out the other, but as soon as you felt the cold substance be drizzled on your chest, you gasped out his name audibly whilst having your mouth set agape even more. You tried to process one thing at a time yet before you knew it his vein covered hands gripped your breasts with such force that you arched your back into his chest even more, your breath hitching at the suddenness. `` Y-Yes I promise..! ``

Kokushibou's tongue darted to your chocolate-covered nipple first, bathing his taste receptors in the sweet substance all the while sucking greedily on the erected bud. Your moans came out more shaky each time a groan emitted from his esophagus, the vibrations transferring to your own body that just made your pleasure enhanced senses skyrocket. `` The chocolate may be sweet..- `` Kokushibou paused. `` ..But you taste sweeter. ``

His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, repeating the action of licking your chest clean that had you seeing stars at that point. The roughness of his thrusts still kissing just against your cervix sending constant tsunamis of intense pleasure throughout your entire being was starting to become mind numbing as your climax was slowly approaching.

`` Ko-Kokushibou- ah! I'm going to.. cum-! `` You shouted out above your moans, your mouth being left agape due to the sudden pace change of force being put into the plunging of his cock going deeper and deeper inside you with each loud mewl of his name. It was driving him crazy having your nails dig further into his back that was bound to leave marks clear as day, yet he did not mind because the pain was one of the only things keeping him from losing himself in the pleasure your slick-covered walls were giving him. He merely groaned in response, nodding rapidly, not wanting to answer in coherent words in view of the fact that his tongue was still gathering any remaining chocolate on your chest, trailing the wet muscle up your neck and leaving yet another bite mark next to the one he left earlier.

`` I want you- fuck- I want you to know how beautiful you are.. inside and out..-`` Kokushibou said, his tone being more rugged than before feeling his own climax approach ever so slowly, building up to release his load within your depths. The swelling within your core would not stop growing until eventually your mind was painted white, releasing on your lover's cock and squeezing your eyes shut to truly savor the feeling of your walls being coated with your cum that continued to spasm around his cock.

Just as you were still lost in a shocked state of your orgasm, your face was suddenly gripped by two masculine hands, being forced to look at the owner in his eyes that read "Upper Moon One." `` I'm going to cum inside you, and you better be appreciative of every single drop, otherwise there will be consequences.``

You simply nodded as quickly as you could, his thrusts still not faltering. Although with one slam of his hips against yours, his seed is suddenly erupting inside you, your eyes now rolling back once more at the feeling of being filled to the brim. You felt full to say the least, since your cum was mixed with his, swelling your tummy even. A deep and breathy groan escaped Kokushibou's lips as he continued to release his cum within your aching cunt that seemed to milk him dry with each throb.

The demon had finally stilled once his peak of pleasure had finally settled down, his body still hovering above yours as his 3 pairs of eyes could not tear themselves from your whorish expression. Your cheeks had a few tear stains, as well as your eyes being bloodshot and rolled into the back of your head, your mouth being left hanging open that had saliva dripping from your twitching lips. It was an amusing sight to say the least to Kokushibou, for seeing you in such a ruined state could instantly get his cock hard again at the thought of him being able to make you see other worlds with his length alone. His calloused hand caressed your face, a gentle action that brought you back to your senses, being able to focus on his handsome face again.

There was a loving smile on your face that was small - but there, even though your face was practically ruined. You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into the warmth of his palm that you craved to feel in a gentle manner. You both had heavy breathes, trying to desperately regain oxygen after using your energy for such a scandalous act, yet the male before you used his energy to lay beside you, now turning you around so that your back is pressed against his chest and your leg raised by his other free hand. `` If you think I was done with you [Y/N], then you are sadly mistaken. I want you to remember that you are beautiful whether you think so or not. So answer me, do you believe you are beautiful? ``

`` Yes of course I do..!- ``

`` That did not sound so convincing my love, I suggest you need to be reminded again. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

#kokushibou #kny kokushibou #kokushibo x reader #kny imagines #kny x reader #demon slayer kokushibou #kokushibou smut #kny kokushibou x reader #kny Kokushibou smut #demon slayer smut #kny smut

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3wisellamas · 3 years

Text

Giant Sweet Cap’n Cakes Headcanon Masterpost!

(Fun fact, I thought most of these up while on one REALLY long hike. ^^; You can tell I fell for these three pretty hard.)

Music:

-I like the idea that, while the three all share a love of hip hop, glitch hop, electronic music in general, and a little lo-fi for chill times, they all have different tastes outside of those. (Meaning if you pass them the aux cord, they WILL argue!)

-Sweet's actually the biggest audiophile of the group, with by far the most eclectic tastes; he will literally put together playlists that go from dubstep to heavy metal to classical to rap to vaporwave to even country. The others don't really get it, but they're cool with whatever he puts on, and learn a lot of new music from him!

-He also owns an electric guitar, which he just plugs into himself to use as an amp and plays early in the morning to wake the others up if needed (he's the early riser and the other two are night owls...)

-Cap'n's definitely got a more narrow focus than the other two; he likes rap and also R&B, jazz, and even a little swing/electro swing. He's also been caught more than once listening to cheesy romantic pop songs, claiming he's just into them for their potential madamoizel-attracting uses but really he's just a sappy romantic.

-He can also rap, very well in fact, and gets Sweet to beatbox while he freestyles.

-Heck, he's just got a good singing voice in general, helped by having a built-in autotune, and dominates at karaoke!

-K_K also has a really broad range, but stays more towards the electronic end of the spectrum -- melodic dubstep, synthpop, disco, trance, chiptune, DnB, even occasionally puts on straight-up ambient spa music to chill out to (the only genre the other two will NOT tolerate.)

-K_K has also, in the past, set up entire mini-raves just by themselves, complete with glowsticks and everything, while Cap'n and Sweet were out doing whatever. They were...not pleased, when they got back, mostly because they weren't invited. All three got to have one together eventually though.

-Physical media is king in their shop; if it's not on a CD, cassette tape, or a vinyl record (or an 8-track, though they have to dig out their old player for it), they will refuse to play it, and might even ask you to leave. "MP3" is an extremely dirty word to them.

-(In fact, they don't get along too well with the MP3 player-headed robots elsewhere in the city.)

-They are indeed always listening to music on physical media as well -- K_K and Cap'n are their own CD players (though Cap'n's one of those models that's also got a built-in FM radio), while Sweet has a straight-up Walkman.

-(He's also the group's cassette champion, claiming his media of choice is superior to CDs because you can record music on BOTH sides of the tape! The other two just don't have the heart to point out that each side only holds half as much music as a CD, and you don't even have to rewind those...)

-Jury's still out on Hit Clips. Cap'n and Sweet think they're just toys, but K_K genuinely collects and appreciates them and treats them like actual music (it helps that they are only around four seconds long!)

-Believe it or not, the headphones are only decoration, all three actually just...listen to their music entirely within their own heads, though they can also switch to playing it externally on their speakers as well. Perks of being robots! Though, sometimes K_K has his internal volume up too high, and misses things that other people say because of it.

-Sweet also has an input port, and connects himself to his turntable to act as the speakers! The other two are WAY too embarrassed to ask if they can use it as well.

-Sweet can play almost any instrument you throw at him, as long as it's not a woodwind (Surprisingly, he can do brass, since those work on vibration rather than air!). He prefers his guitar or violin when he isn't spinning records on his turntable. Where the other two just enjoy music, he's the actual trained musician.

Voice headcanons:

-Sweet: Kind of deep, bass-y, lots of reverb, a slight tinny audio distortion to it like a low-quality recording that becomes much more pronounced when he gets upset or starts shouting. And since he's a speaker, you can literally feel the vibrations he makes when he's speaking!

-Cap'n: Scout from TF2. I am sorry, but I absolutely cannot get that out of my head for him. XD However, he's actually putting that voice on as an "accent" of sorts, his real voice is actually super autotune-y like K_K's, and it comes out whenever he gets flustered, his pitch only getting higher and higher as it gets worse...

-K_K: Pure autotune, he can just do whatever the hell he wants with his voice -- pitch, tone, whatever, and while he tends to keep it a little higher he can and does change it to fit his mood! He often has a completely different voice every day, but the others are used to it. He also just straight-up vocalizes sound effects (like, the kind that make you go "How did you just make that sound with your mouth?!") and can mimic other people perfectly (though the slight mechanical distortion does give it away). There are absolutely no rules when it comes to K_K's voice.

-They harmonize perfectly whenever they sing together!

Sweet:

-I like to think Sweet's actually the brains of the group; like, not SMART, he just holds their one collective braincell most often. He does any technical work when they're building stuff, like soldering circuits or the occasional programming, and even handles a lot of the actual business operations and pays the bills. The other two also like to follow his lead when it comes to rebellion plans, even if he’s not the official leader.

-That said, though? It's balanced out by him being rather hotheaded and having the shortest temper by a lot. There are REASONS why he's not usually out selling bagels with the others -- he's unfortunately prone to some more "extreme" sales tactics, like hurling half their stock at random passersby until they finally agree to buy some. On the plus side, he's always the first to step up to defend the gang from anything that dares to harm them, and is always on guard.

-He can also hold a heck of a grudge -- don't ever get on his bad side! Cap'n and K_K are mostly immune to this though, if he gets upset with them he works through it by the end of the day. It helps that they can all hug it out.

-He's a bit of a perfectionist, often working overtime to try and get everything they build exactly right. He can get really frustrated when things don't work out the way he plans, or when he can't make sense of a problem, or when Cap'n and K_K are goofing off instead of doing their part, and needs to go blast some loud music and blow off steam.

-He does have a really tough time keeping his balance, since his head is a bit heavier than the rest of his body, but he takes tripping over his own feet constantly in stride. The biggest problem he has is with dancing -- while he'll join in with the others on occasion, he can't match their more acrobatic moves and sticks more to actually PLAYING the music they're dancing to.

-He's also really, really unlucky, just in general. He actually considers the other two his good luck charms, since they help him out whenever he trips or gets into a bad spot!

-He's the fashionista of the group, surprisingly. It's difficult for him to find clothes that fit his body, so he tends to get a little creative with it and has a whole closet full of different stuff! And since Cap'n is roughly the same size they'll occasionally swap jackets.

Cap’n:

-Cap'n actually has managed to score a handful of dates with girls in the past! However, NONE of them went well, and only one actually made it to the second date (only to break up right in the middle of it), so he always ends up returning home heartbroken and in tears. Sweet and K_K, by this point just ready for it whenever they hear that he's going out that night, always dry him off before he shorts himself out, take him to bed and cuddle with him (platonically, I don't see them as brothers but I also don't see them as having that conversation until Cap'n's ready, which he clearly is NOT), remind him that it doesn't hurt forever and he isn't unlovable and that he'll find someone eventually, etc.

-They have sat him down multiple times to try and gently suggest to Cap'n that he might just not be into women? And that he’s actually turning them off by trying so hard? To which he's always just like "No, of course not. I'm straight. Love the ladies. Totally. Oh no they didn't catch me checkin' out that one dude earlier did they? Is that what this is about?!"

-(Basically, Cap'n is just a hopeless romantic in love with the idea of being in love, but is absolutely clueless as to how it works or what he actually wants, and his best buds are always there to catch him when he falls. ;v; )

-The glasses are prescription -- he's SUPER nearsighted, a hardware glitch he refuses to fix. Sometimes when he's working on something close up he'll take them off, panicking when he can't find them afterwards, only to have the others point out that they're just on his head. He’s also got non-tinted glasses, but you will not catch him DEAD wearing those unless it’s an absolute emergency.

-This dude is SUPREMELY insecure with himself. Like, his rather questionable fixation on romance aside, he basically runs off of others' validation, the "cool" persona he's spent much of his life building up being how he hides the fact that he isn't really sure who he is, or what he wants to do with his life, or what he's even good for -- the others have learned to check on him now and then whenever he hides away in the back of the shop, since he can slip into some pretty dark places when left alone to sulk. It took a long time for him to open up even to them to share his feelings, and sometimes still has doubts about whether they or anyone else really care about him as more than just The Smooth One...

-He's the only one of the three to actually enjoy the occasional silence, especially when he's trying to think, or whenever he's upset. So, his headphones also serve a dual purpose -- they're noise-cancelling!

-He's the video guy, carrying around a small camcorder and constantly trying to record the group's activities, to put together into music videos! He also just likes to record himself doing stupid stunts for posterity, though K_K just takes these and makes (affectionate) blooper reels.

-Cap'n is not his real name, similar to K_K. However, unlike K_K, he refuses to say what it is, just that it's embarrassing.

K_K:

-K_K has a bad habit of just completely zoning out when he gets into his music, getting completely lost in the groove and needing to be pulled back to reality. It's not a bad thing during jam sessions, but at work, or in the middle of a battle...not so much.

-He kind of needs to have some kind of music going at all times -- silence drives him absolutely CRAZY! Though, because he gets distracted by his own music, he then misses out on entire conversations, only tuning back in towards the end. Sometimes the other two have to repeat or summarize what they just said for him.

-He knows sign language, and taught the others to use it. They're able to communicate reasonably well no matter how loud their shop gets, or on days when K_K isn't able to form words properly (he's just shy, and even when he isn't he gets tongue-tied a LOT).

-He's easily the best dancer of the three, and uses his extendable body to get really creative with his moves! He even knows a little ballroom, somehow, which he'll pull out sometimes to make the others laugh.

-(Seriously, K_K CANNOT stand to see Sweet or Cap'n not smiling. He'll do anything to keep the group's spirits up, usually cracking jokes during a scrap project or doing little favors, and they appreciate all his efforts!)

-K_K has the WORST sleep cycle, ever. If you let him, he will stay up all night working or partying, finally going to bed at 6AM, and will then sleep until 6PM if the others don't wake him up at some point. If they know he was up really late they'll let him sleep in a little, but he's often pretty sleep-deprived and running solely on sugar and caffeine, which doesn't help his natural loopiness.

-He is a VERY physical guy. Seriously, he will just scoop up and hold Sweet or Cap'n like a cat every five minutes; at first they were just like "Oh. Okay. We're hugging now I guess," but after a while they got more used to it and even anticipate when K_K is going to do it. And he also initiates tons of snuggles and gives piggyback rides whenever one of his bandmates (usually Sweet) requests.

-K_K actually scrapbooks, collecting pictures and little mementos of places he and the others have gone and things they've done. After the library fountain is sealed, he pulls them out to show everyone else from Cyber City and reminisce about home.

-It's very hard to make K_K angry, since he tends to stay super chill and brushes off almost everything. But, on those very, very rare occasions when something does get under his metal outer casing, he'll go full-on silent treatment, not speaking to anyone for up to a week as he sulks and stomps around the junk shop, and even refuses to play any music! And no amount of sweets or hugs or cheering up will bring him out of it, either; the other two have learned to just wait him out and let him have his space, letting him come to them when he's finally ready to talk about it.

Misc:

-Though all three love everything sweet, K_K's the only one who really goes overboard with it, making whole meals out of candy. Sweet, ironically enough, actually prefers more salty/savory snacks, while the less is said about Cap'n's hot sauce addiction, the better.

-Okay, actually, I will say more about it. Cap'n loves spicy food in general, and literally drinks tabasco sauce right from the bottle. However, he's got a bad habit of daring himself to eat hotter and hotter stuff, ESPECIALLY if someone is watching, and can easily get in WAY over his head before begging for milk.

-They also all totally drink battery acid like Queen.

-Heck, being both Darkners and robots, they can really eat literally anything. Normal food, milk, oil, batteries, gallons of pure sugar, toothpaste, moss, glitter (NEVER let K_K get hold of any though, he gets lost in the sauce), broken glass, etc, and of course their own deep-fried CDs. Only thing they can't do is water, since, you know, robots.

-With a lot of the aesthetics of Cyber City being close to turn-of-the millennium and early 2000s (CDs and boomboxes, popup ads, wired mice, Queen theorized to be one of those see-through iMacs, EVERYTHING about Spamton), I like the idea that the boys DO NOT have smartphones, and if you handed them one they'd have no clue how to use it or what to do with it. But they do have cell phones: Sweet's got an old flip phone covered in stickers (courtesy of K_K), Cap'n splurged for one of those that slide open and with a camera (he set his background to a tiny, grainy photo of the three of them!), and K_K has one of those indestructible Nokia bricks, that Sweet got him after he kept breaking all his other ones. They can all text, but that's about as high-tech as they get.

-Same with tablets or newer computers in general, they might share one tiny netbook at most. Cap’n never remembers to log out of his Dark World dating profile, so the others will snoop or post embarrassing things to it.

-They're really, really durable, even without milk -- they're made of 90s plastic and electronics, so it takes a LOT to take one of them down! Plus, they regularly repair each other back at the shop (it took a LONG time for them to gain enough trust to physically open and work on each other), so as long as at least one's left to drag the other two to safety they'll be just fine.

-However, if they get splashed with water, caught in the rain, or worse, drowned, they will short out, or shut down on the spot to prevent damage. Once they completely dry out, though, they'll start right back up, no worse for wear. When only one of them gets waterlogged the other two will break out the hair dryers to dry them out faster, or even pop them into the oven in a pan of rice like an iPod that got dropped in the toilet...

Finally, backstory?

-Cap'n and K_K met first -- maybe both as new recruits to another, much less savory gang of music equipment robots, and bonded as a result of being put upon by the more established members (Cap'n probably even had to defend K_K more than once when his inattentiveness got him into trouble!) But, they both had enough one day, and decided to break off and form their own thing, making music and selling CD bagels to support themselves.

-Sweet, meanwhile, has the complete opposite background, coming from a rich and important family of musicians in Cyber City who regularly entertained Queen in her mansion (hence why he always used to get sweets from her!) But, he was kind of the black sheep, preferring his own style of music, and decided to strike out on his own as a street musician instead.

-They met when Cap'n and K_K accidentally set up to sell bagels on Sweet's usual corner, and he battled them to reclaim his turf. But, they were evenly-matched (even two-to-one; Sweet's definitely the strongest of the trio!), and impressed each other with both their fighting and musical skills, so Sweet decided to join their tiny group, and thus Sweet Cap'n Cakes was formed.

-After the whole situation with Queen is resolved, SCC turns their rebellion into an anti-DRM kind of thing? Nobody can hold back the music, man!

#deltarune #sweet cap'n cakes #deltarune sweet #deltarune cap'n #deltarune k_k #sweet #cap'n #k_k #emheadcanons

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sly-merlin · 3 years

Text

KILLING ME - 13 | n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : mentions of brutality described in previous chapter, mentions of strained breathing, curse words. For future chapters, major character death(s).

words : 4.5k

summary :

“life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

K.M 12

taglist : @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @minejungwoo @leesalts @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl--ankhaeji @simplybree @ncttboo @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @bralessmermaid @minhoseyeliner

In the silent room, the sound of taeil's shoes reverberated as he paced back and forth. Of the seventeen men standing in the living room, most had their heads hung low while some paid side glances to Jaehyun and ten as they fell prey to Taeil's anger.

"Last time!" Fingers pointed in the air, taeil asked in a dangerously calm voice, "don't make me repeat myself. Who left the door open?"

Messing his hair, jaehyun began,

"We didn’t know she was still there in the basement. Usually she’s out by-

“just answer me already.” Taeil shouted in exasperation.

“we don’t clearly remember. Me and ten were busy interrogating him.'' Jaehyun's voice was barely above a mumble but it still managed to reach everyone in the parameter.

Taeil turned to ten, furiously rubbing his forehead, impliedly asking for a reply but he merely shrugged in shame.

“Since when you have been butchering people with doors ajar for everyone to see?” the volume of his voice sent shivers to each and every presence in the room. Taeil never lost his calm, this was, after all, his metier. But he knew when to let go of his usual demeanor and nobody plucked up the courage to question him either.

“we didn’t do it deliberately. It was a mistake. An accident. Why are you drawing this so much.” jaehyun daren’t raise his voice above a whisper but his words were alarming enough

“You all need to recall the rules we stand by. What if jisung had gone down? Would you throw the same lame excuses even then? Won’t you be sorry if he or chenle or sungchan had seen a human being cut open like that? you and ten are both equ-

“we are ready to apologise to her okay. I’m not running from responsibility here. Nobody i-”

“Accepting a mistake is not even the bare minimum. We don't need your hollow apology if you don’t mean it. just because she’s understanding doesn’t mean the blood would leave her head. There’s a reason those rooms are forbidden for some of us here.”

Jaehyun’s unexpected raspy chuckle earned multiple gasps from the room. Taeyong was about to reach him but taeil stopped him by a show of his palm.

Jaehyun pinched his nose before barking,

“when jisung and chenle are told not to enter forbidden areas, they actually do listen but your pretty sweet y/n never does that. she’s just reaping the fruit of her own reckless behaviour again. it’s not my mistake that she’s so damn nosy all the –

“WHAT IF IT WAS NARA AND NOT Y/N JUNG JAEHYUN? WOULD YOU HAVE SPILLED SAME BULLSHIT IF IT WAS HER?

Taeil knew he shouldn’t have said that. Jaehyun’s darkened eyes calmed Taeil instantly as he realised he too had crossed a line.

as he angrily took a step forward towards taeil, jaehyun was abruptly halted by johnny and taeyong as they kept the two men apart. The reason for the argument left Jaehyun's mind, the mere mention of nara was enough to blow his fuse. He was furious yet he didn’t resist the boys and let his sharp breathing convey his message to taeil.

“Stop it you both. Go back to your rooms everyone.” Johnny announced, hands still holding Jaehyun's arm and torso, almost hugging and shielding him from taeil. “let it go jae. Just calm down. Please.”

Everyone remained glued to their feet, too afraid to make any noise. Huffing loudly, Jaehyun pushed Johnny away. Jaw clenched, chest heaving in rage, he furthered himself and instead of going for taeil’s neck as everyone has thought, his hand reached for the vase and the very next moment, the beautiful curved glass met the ground, shattering into innumerable pieces, right where taeil stood.

“JAEHYUN”

Taeyong roared watching younger and the older staring each other down.

“never compare nara to her.never!” With a perilously low voice, jaehyun glowered at taeil. “measure them up on the same scale again and you won’t be alive to regret again!”

Jaehyun stormed out upstairs. Soon after, without saying or expressing anything, taeil left too, masking his emotions just like usual times.

“when are they going to talk this out. It’s been three years already.” Johnny mumbled more to himself but everyone heard him and each and every presence in the room understood him.

Sleep despised you. Even sleeping pills had turned their back on you. Sprawled on the bed, you prayed to some magical being to descend and help you but no matter how humbly you pleaded, there was no end to your misery.

"He was a drug supplier, one of the accomplice of importing life threatening drugs in korea. He had it coming when he refused to tell us about other handlers. What you need to know is we have done a favour by taking his life."

Taeyong's words were seeded into your head. Your fear was fine, he had told you. He also said you’d forget about it in no time but he couldn’t mark when the “no time” would end. The vision of what you witnessed was quite blurry by now but the awful feeling in the pit of your stomach chose not to leave you yet. From what taeyong explained, that man was a mere pawn. A hidden syndicate was exporting deleterious drugs and they were just trying to find out the people behind it.

The only thing you had gathered was that just like every normal entity, criminals like neos weren’t fond of any sort of competition. With a pack of sleeping pills given by xiaojun, meant to help you sleep through the night, you were dropped at your house by dear Mark who kept stuttering explanations while driving. They have never killed anyone innocent, Mark said and kept it repeating in different possible ways a sentence could be transformed into.

You weren’t sure if you believed him yet. But even the mere thought of getting used to the brutality was horrendous than what you had seen once.

Two days later, at black neos. 9: 50

“when do you want us to sue them y/n?” mr. jung questioned, rotating his walking stick by the wooden head.

Sitting on the sofa, just beside him, you wondered why you were always so conscious of all the eyes directed at you. or maybe you were distracting yourself from answering the man. Among all the things, his way of showing his care was not settling in.

one amusing revelation was that Jaehyun's father, mr. jung or senior jung, as hyuck called them, was the only person with the capacity of putting a noose around all the valiant necks that were ever present in the house. The wrinkles of old age held enough authority to shut each and every young mouth, including yours even though you kept your quiet.

And he adored everyone, johnny, yuta and haechan among his favourites of course. He was also persistent and you were struggling with coming up with an answer because of this very trait. He kept asking you and your eyes remained transfixed on the papers bunched up in your hands, that were shoved into your hands upon your arrival. They opened the chapters you always had doubt about but no corroboration.

You had no home, the reason you were sent into that orphanage in the first place. The little kid that witnessed her parent’s death in front of her eyes didn’t understand why her parents took so long to wake up or why they never did when she waited for so long hiding among strangers or despite having a home, why she was sent to a place where she knew no one. There was no answer to why you never saw your uncle and aunt again and why they never came to take you back. As you grew up, you gave up on them. the car crash had crushed every relation you had with the home you once dearly loved and now you were conflicted with the new information that was thrown your way. your uncle and aunt were under illegal possession of the house that allegedly belonged to your father and after his demise, to you. but what would you gain by going back? Bricks and cement could never compensate or alleviate the pain that you had learned to live with. Even with law on your side, tormenting them would be of no benefit to you. So you said what you had decided years ago.

“I-I don’t want to sue them.” you replied meekly, eyes still fixated on the thread holding the legal papers together.

A sound of disapproval caught your ears as mr. jung spoke against your decision,

“no y/n. Those leeches abandoned you to rot in an orphanage and are living comfortably with insurances and the house that belongs to you. all that money could have been used for your future. You don’t need to be afraid of them. kun would provide you the finest lawyers and within two hearings, they would be in jail for committing fraud and trespass. And as a lawyer yourself, you should know better than to let them go off like this.”

Everybody heard but no one spoke.

“no.” you raised your head to face him and swallowed hard before continuing, “I do not want to meet them”

“don’t you want to go back there? that’s your home.” Somewhere from your left, Johnny spoke.

“never.” You refused immediately. “the people who live there were never my family. They never wanted me a part of their family. I’m clearly not their blood. The people who adopted me are not alive anymore. Those who loved me left me years ago. For a ridiculous sum of money, they didn’t even say their goodbyes to me. I was left there thinking that maybe one day someone would come. But money wins over love. It always does. And i don’t give a shit about them. I have learned to live on my own. I never needed their love. And I certainly don’t want more of their hatred.”

Inhaling sharply, you spat your speech in a single breath. Your words weren’t emotionless still you didn’t feel them like others did.

“I think we should bury this matter.” this time your voice was polite.

They nodded.

Mr. jung, however, wasn’t done.

“Okay so no one would mention this but keep these papers with you. you never know when this might come handy. After all, you are the sole owner of those properties your father left. Now you see, we grease the palms of officers so we can escape the shit we create for ourselves but people like your family are worse than the devil hi-

Multiple coughs halted his train of words. His breather was immediately fished out of his pocket and handed over to him. once he regained his senses, he begin again,

“never mind. Family must be protected y/n and those who fail to do so slaps the most precious value away from them. it’s not necessary that you should cherish something when it’s really out of your reach. at least i can die peacefully knowing that you all would settle down finally. If yuta can leave his chaser personality to find love, there’s hope for everyone here and speaking of yuta, when he’s arriving?”

“in two hours”

Your eyes widened and a hiccup escaped your throat. You voiced out a hum of surprise, gathering everyone’s attention.

“You weren’t told?”

You football sized eyeballs told mr. jung that you certainly weren’t aware.

“I guess I just spoiled a surprise then. Forgive me, I'm old and I am also hungry. Show some courtesy to your guests and feed me and y/n.”

Hyuck jabbed at him before they all got up to run for their seats in the dining room. “You are old. Why do you even need to eat anymore. Go to himalayas, eat snow and acquire some peace. That’s what old people should do!”

Everyone seemed too occupied with their bickering to pay you any mind so you dragged a reluctant taeil to his room, demanding answers for the latest drama they had launched in your name.

"I'm so sorry about that. The day after reception at the office, uncle suddenly asked about your family and that got me curious too so I ended up searching in deep and that led me to this whole discovery. I swear i never meant to breach your privacy y/n." Taeil pleaded in a low whisper as he locked the knob.

"Why would he do that though?"

"He's just too sensitive when it comes to families. He even told me to find your real parents but I got no luck there because you were adopted from an open adoption center from a different country. I found no information on them but I'm sorry about that." His ramble was again reduced to a murmur..

Playing with your fingers, you signed heavily before replying,

"Thank you for your effort but you should have asked me first.”

"Did you perhaps know anything about their schemes?"

"Right since I learnt about the adoption laws. I couldn't have been adopted without a security registered under my name. Maybe that property was the house where they are living right now"

"I'm sor-

"When were you going to tell me about that little whiny bitch? He's coming back in a few hours? I have to live with him again? " Scrunching up your nose in disgust, you bellowed.

"Yeah. He and taeyong had a long love chat yesterday. He was indeed being dramatic so i wonder what happened between them that he agreed. But he's coming back yeah. It was inevitable anyway. I don't know how you want to approach this but I'd say don't choose conflict. Eventually you have to live together so why try to break each other's necks. I've said this before and I'd say it again he-

"He's not that bad? I don't understand how easily you forget that I'm in this predicament because of that man. How can you expect me to make peace with that fucking piece of shit who had his gun pointed to my head since very first day?"

"Are we that insufferable?"

"Don't change the topic"

"I'm not changing it.You said predicament. We are also part of it right. Do you really hate us that much?"

Your eyes softened, reflecting his tone. No, they were just mildly bearable. And no, there wasn't any need to admit it either.

"Taeil, you sound like the voice of reason here. Taeyong seems fishy too but he's too unpredictable. He's like a chameleon. Others don't seem to have any power in your stupid hierarchy I've come to notice so it's you right? You are the one who told taeyong to marry me to that poopface and spare my life. It is definitely you.” staring him right in the eye, you pointed your forefinger at him.

"Please do me a favour and don’t use your brain too much y/n. I already have too much on my plate. I don’t need another one. If you don’t want our uncle to die due to a heart attack caused by your and yuta’s actions, stay shut. Now let’s eat before they gobble down everything.”

Our uncle! Yeah sure, you thought.

14:00

Standing alone in the kitchen, fidgeting with your hands, you tried your best to eavesdrop but nothing coherent met your ears. You indeed expected the army of men to have a party when their estranged soldier would arrive but the welcome outside sounded more like a hue and cry. The screaming indicated anything but happiness.

Your dilemma ended when you heard your name being called, the voice belonging to senior jung. You couldn't understand why he loved shouting when clearly his lungs couldn't take anything in higher volume.

Walking into the living room, you saw everyone seated in a very civilian manner but their conversation was difficult to hear amidst the babble.

“Come sit” Mark, who had gone to fetch yuta from the airport, spoke.

As you took the seat next to taeil, your eyes fell on the raven haired man and met his own. If his blonde hair shrieked peril, the black softened all the darkness his previous hair projected. Mayhaps, it was the black rimmed glasses he wore. You didn’t even know he had eyesight issues. He looked different.

He might have looked non-barbaric for a few seconds but his intense eye roll with the twitched lips upon meeting your eyes caused you to scowl. That’s when you noticed the elbow crutch on his left arm leaning against his outstretched leg. Nothing seemed wrong. You sized up his both legs with a crease of confusion forming on your forehead. You might have been looking too hard for your unasked doubt was answered by none other than yuta himself.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

You scrunch your nose at the politeness that dripped from his lips, the honeyed words clearly in contrast from the uneasiness he felt while uttering them. Though the words were directed at you, he never regarded you directly and you weren’t sure how one was supposed to act in such a pretentious setting.

“No, definitely not a scratch.” Mr. Jung interrupted your internal unrest, interpreting your silence to be worry for the boy. “His left thigh is bandaged so it needs a lot of care. You might need to take some days off given how much movement hurt him. and you! I know you don’t want to worry her but lying around won’t work. she can’t tend to you unless she knows where you need care.”

He mildly instructed him as you found yourself staring at yuta’s brown cargo pants which hid whatever injury was being mentioned. The said words were dodged by your ears even before they’d have entered. The problem laid with the response that was expected of you. you couldn’t have possibly replied to him your true intentions that included ducking every wifey duties you were supposed to fulfil but like everyone else and as taeil had explained, you didn’t want the blood of an old man on your hands so you just played along.

“yes.”

That was enough for playing, you decided. Your quietness, for the first time won't be subjected to judgement as the dejection was expected.

“I think you both should go home now. I have some business to sort out here.” he got up and walked past you, not before petting your hair lovingly. He also smacked yuta on his head and mumbled something on the lines of how he should have enjoyed his last overseas trip and whatnot.

Once he, taeil and taeyong were out of sight, chatter started again. hovering over yuta, they dropped questions like he was in some interview and you remained seated, waiting for their next request they were possibly going to annoy you with.

“did you like france?”

“what the fuck! you didn’t tell me about the hair colour. Now I want to change mine too!” that was ten.

“why are you wearing pants if your thighs hurt?”

“I’m sorry for laughing at you earlier.”

Right when you thought you were specialising in drowning the sounds, Johnny's voice caused you to jerk your head towards them. Not the voice, maybe the question he asked!

“dude! Where did you exactly fall from? The room is on the ground floor and your work didn’t even require you to switch places. How can you break your leg while monitoring the local cells?”

Only two sentences were needed for the laughter to escape the confines of your stomach and the realisation that you actually thought about a bullet or a knife being the reason of the harm only elevated the amusement you felt. understandably, you became the center of their attention.

“who the fuck are you laughing at?” yuta sneered.

“you.”

The twisted bitter smirk on yuta's face told you that he still needed some good time getting used to your unfiltered tendencies but by the suppressed snickers that chenle and hyuck let out, their voices recognisable to you by now, you were sure at least a few of them were enjoying your jabs as much as you did.

"Fuck off." He finally barked, breaking the harsh eye contact.

"Happily!" You remarked, raising yourself from the cushioned seat.

"Where are you going y/n?" Intersected jungwoo.

"Home. Tell mr.jung that college called. It's Saturday so I've to visit the library anyway."

"Wait I'll drop you both."

Glaring at Johnny, you wordlessly challenged him to repeat what he said.

"Yes. You and him are not leaving alone. Uncle is still here. God forbid if he decides to stay the night, we won't have answers for him." He rather whispered to you.

"That sounds like a problem for you. My pact was over as soon as I saw that face. And I can guarantee you the feelings are more than mutual from that side too." Rolling your eyes towards yuta, you said.

"No no no! You can't do that yet!" Johnny came closer and continued his whispering, "please y/n. I promise he'd behave. Uncle did so much for you, can you help us this one last time? And yuta was returning anyway. If not today, then four days later. Please? You'd do that for me right?"

Sometime while talking, his fingers had found your hand and you weren't sure if he was aware of it or not.

But you were. And that had caused a little temperature problem in your whole body as you felt warmness enveloping your whole being.

And it seemed like your ears had stopped working too.

"Y/n! Are you hearing me?"

"Are you fine?"

His hand on your cheek broke your trance and your eyes darted away to look at his eyes, finding the same worry in them. Why was he so genuine, you thought.

"Are you sick?"

He questioned again, to which you only stuttered.

"No. I'm fine john. What were you saying though?"

"I said yuta needs to go back home. Please. He can't stay here even if we don't want him to be alone."

Somehow, you found yourself mindlessly nodding at his words. A cheeky contagious smile appeared on Johnny's lips, your own slightly curving on both sides. He backed away after caressing your face, the action more noticeable to others than he probably had intended.

"Let's get you home baby boy." Johnny snickered at yuta earning a slap from him.

"Fuck off bitch. At least feed me something before I leave. I'm hungry!" He screeched, hitting Johnny's leg with the end of his stick.

"What about the jjajangmyun you had in the car? How can you still be hungry?” Mark chirped up innocently.

"Oh come on. Don't make excuses.I'll bring some food in the evening." Johnny offered when yuta was busy giving a stink eye to mark.

"I too need some compensatory food john.”

“What the fuck do you mean compensatory? You live in that house because of me! Don’t imply yourself as the owner of that place!” you rolled your eyes for the nth time at yuta’s words, dismissing his words with the action.

“Why dont you donate your eyeballs to someone like me who can actually make better use of them. Instead of rolling them to the back all the time, I shall happily play tennis with them.”

“If my habits annoy you that much then why are you going back to breathe the same air as me. I’d be more than happy if i don't have to see your cursed face daily!”

“Stop you both.” Johnny's back shielded your view as he spoke. “He’s still here! Renjun, go and run a checkup for him and tell me how bad his leg is in actuality or is he just crying like a baby.”

In defeat, you sat down again. Fifteen minutes passed and despite being sleepy, you tried your best to listen to donghyuck’s ramble of something that jeno did the other day. All you heard was how jungwoo and jeno had a fight over piggyback rides and after that every word was transformed into a chant of word sleep as it hit your ears. Though it was early afternoon, the whole week had been nothing but tiring.

Once again your relaxation time was robbed off by none other than yuta. Maybe this was the end of your peaceful days.

Hopping off, you hurriedly whisked away before Johnny and Jungwoo could say anything to you. Two men were enough for towing the baggage.

As you stripped yourself off your jeans, an exhausted cackle left your lips when Johnny's words echoed in your head. During the car journey, he gave you some instructions in case of some emergency. That emergency being yuta! Not that you were going to put up with any of yuta’s demands, you listened to them anyway. Amusingly, yuta wasn't injured due to falling from stairs. He was getting drunk on the roof of a random building when he had launched himself into a sharp edge of a railing that gave him stitches all over his left thigh. Now he was as good as an exhausted car freshener.

As they settled him down, you didn’t bother going out even for a second. Choosing sleep over your much needed trip to the library, you tucked yourself into white sheets as the light breaths from air con lulled you to sleep.

17:00

Sitting in the library, your fountain pen ran along the plain pages like you were writing a well known story and not your thesis. The words were flowing like water and you felt no difficulty as you finished pages with the speed of light. Everything was going smoothly. You felt happy. And suddenly your hand stopped moving. It was glued to a single point, the nib leaking out on that spot. Next moment, your thoughts were muddled and a distant shuffling distracted you. The more you tried to move your wrist, the more forceful the noise became. Your breathing got heavier and your body jammed, the whole weight punching onto the weak muscles of the hand.

Your attempts never stopped but the noise did and it transformed into loud thumping coming right from your heart.

You tried to inhale but something stopped you.

Then you heard the calls of your name.

Rapid and loud.

Your body jerked forward and your breath finally returned as your eyes opened.

You had woken up from a dream. You were still in your room and the loud thumping was the loud banging on your door.

“y/n! Are you sleeping?”

Registering his words, you replied in a groggy voice.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Your phone. I left mine in the medical room. I need to call Mark right now.”

Whining loudly, you fell back on the bed. It was only due but flailing your arms and legs like a kid in a toy store, you let out a screech full of annoyance, cursing on your fate.

Were you really going to babysit him now?

****

Stay safe everyone. 2021 is just 2020 with a change of pajamas😑wear your mask and force others too🌝

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mrs-tsunderemeitantei · 3 years

Text

DISCLAIMER: HUGE, LONG RANT AHEAD!

ALSO SPOILERS IN CASE YOU'RE NOT UP TO DATE WITH THE MANGA OR WITH ZERO THE ENFORCER!

Soo in case you missed it, Gosho released the SDB Justice Plus some time last month:

The biggest shocker was the answer to Question number 4, shown below:

Basically this translates to:

Q4: On the Mystery Train, he (Amuro) said to Miyano Shiho that “My comrades who are tracking us have made arrangements in order to retrieve you”, but were those comrades from PSB? If that’s the case, I’m curious about how he planned to deceive Vermouth...!

A: Those were comrades from the Black Organization, so there was no need to deceive them.

Ummmm...what??

Idk about y'all but when I read this, I was livid. It didn’t make any sense to me. And quite frankly, I didn't want it to. Maybe because I am one of those (very rare) people who thought Rei and Shiho could eventually end up together (Don't laugh, it would have made sense, and I'll write about that in a separate post).

Anywho, safe to say Gosho's latest confession left me in absolute confusion. Like why? Just why? Then I realised I'm more butt-hurt about this because I was fixated on a certain idea of Rei's character and chose to ignore his other sides, as if they didn't exist. It didn't help that his past is so freaking depressing which got me sympathizing with his character and led me to either ignore or make excuses for any red flags.

But now that I think about it, it sadly makes sense. It also explains why he didn't show any sadness or regret when he saw Shiho supposedly ‘die’ in the luggage cart in the Bell Tree Train Arc.

Now to let me wrap my head around this, I needed to breakdown his three "faces":

1. Amuro Tooru is a cheerful, friendly, generous, carefree, outgoing man.

2. Furuya Rei is a serious, law-abiding, calculating, patriotic police officer who is willing to die for Japan's security.

3. And Bourbon is a devious, manipulative, cunning, deadly agent.

Yet, ever since we found out he was in fact an NPA agent, we (or at least I), seem to have forgotten about those dark sides he possesses. Also with Zero's tea time showing us a softer side of his character it was easy to get caught up in "he's 100% one of the god guys" when in fact, he's a complex, grey character.

He has shown on multiple occasions, just how far he is willing to go, to achieve whatever goal he’s set his mind on. Let's not forget how in Zero the Enforcer, he completely flipped the switch. (I know this isn't Canon but...) The man went as far as to create a suspect and jail the innocent Mori Kogoro so he can legally investigate the case and emotionally manipulate Conan into unkowningly help with the investigation.

Also, in the Detective Nocturne’s case he deliberately didn’t tell Ran as soon as he noticed Conan might have been kidnapped by the criminal because he hadn’t finished investigating the apartment.

And in the Scarlet Arc, he was willing to harm Jodie's teacher friend, so he can lure out the FBI and advance his investigation on Akai’s death. Let’s not forget once he figured out the truth, he was willing to expose Akai’s fake death (which I get it he's out for revenge), but by doing so, he would have also gotten Kir killed (even though I'm pretty sure he knew at that point, she was in fact a NOC).

As we can see, be it Bourbon, Furuya Rei or Amuro Toru, he will stop at nothing to reach his goals, even if it means throwing innocent people under the bus. So, now when Gosho says his "partners" were in fact BO members and not the PSB, I'm no longer surprised.

I mean, why wouldn’t he sell Shiho back to the organisation? Because he knew she was Sensei’s daughter, and that should have meant something to him? Alright, let’s talk about that.

Did he love Shiho’s mum? Yes, he did, there’s no doubt about that (one of the reasons he joined the joined the police in the first place was to find her, so you can't convince me otherwise).

But what if he loved Japan even more? (It's not canon, but he did say in Zero the Enforcer that the safety of this country matters most to him, even if it means he’d end up paying with his own life).

So, I'm going to take a wild guess as to how he could have felt when he found out the woman he loved as his own mother, willingly joined the deadly organisation that threatened the safety of his country. Based on his memories, he remembered her encouraging her husband to join the Carasuma group.

So, if through his investigations, he was able to realise she is the same woman from his childhood, I’m pretty sure he would have been very disappointed. I’m not sure the extent of his knowledge about the drug, but if he also found out their research created the poisonous APTX-4869, I reckon it would be more reason for him to be upset.

Now let's talk about Haibara/Shiho. To any outsider who's unaware of the truth of her past, she is a woman born into the organisation, then was groomed and taught from a young age by the syndicate and promoted to take on their research. A research that produced a poisonous drug, just like her parents did. Also, she only ran away after the organisation killed her sister. Before that, she was a high-ranking member. With all these facts, why would he think of her as anything but a criminal just like the rest of the BO members? It’d be rather foolish for him to not hand her back to the organisation just because she is the daughter of the woman he once thought so highly of. If anything, he’d be killing two birds with one stone, by executing a criminal, while also gaining higher standing in the organisation.

As fans of Haibara, we are rightfully upset by his intentions of returning her to the organisation because we know her truth. He doesn't. It wasn't until we learnt more about her painful past and kind and caring nature that we grew to love her. We know she never wanted to create a poisonous drug. That she already hated the organisation for using the drug as a poison. That she had to develop the drug to protect Akemi’s life.

There is no way Rei would have known about any of the bullying she or her family faced from the BO. By nature, Shiho is very secretive and reserved and very little of her personality or history would have been known by any of the BO members (except maybe Gin). Therefore, apart from the files the BO would have kept on Shiho and her role in the organisation, that’s all Rei had to learn about her. So, I can’t really blame him for choosing to hand her back to the organisation.

Some people who are still in denial, argue that if he planned to kill Shiho, why was he willing to kill whom he thought was Vermouth instead of handing her over?

Shouldn’t that prove he was going to take Shiho to safety to the PSB, not the BO? Before Gosho's statement, I would have agreed but now...sigh. Now, I get why he did that. If Shiho were to die BEFORE she was returned to the organisation, he wouldn’t have gained the trust he was seeking. If she were to die AFTER he delivered her, I highly doubt it would have mattered to him. Although I'm still hoping he maybe he had a plan of not leaving her in the organisation's clutches after "handing her back" and he never truly intended on getting her killed. But since Gosho also said there was no need to deceive Vermouth, I highly doubt it. (Heart breaking).

After such an explanation, does everything make more sense now? Maybe. Am I ok with it? Hell no! I’m quite angry and annoyed that this is how things turned out to be, but it is what it is. We have to accept that Rei is not a good character, and he's not a bad character. He's a grey character and when you think of it that way, it's easier to understand his behaviour. Not that I agree with it. After Gosho's statement, I think pretty sure Rei is in dire need of some character development. He could stand to learn a thing or two from Conan who manages to reach his goals while preserving as many lives as possible (Akai's fake death being the burst example while managing to drive Kir back to the BO).

For now, I’m looking forward to the developments that will entail. I’m curious to see how Rei and Haibara will react once they eventually meet each other. It'll be interesting to see what will go through his mind once he figures out her true identity. One thing I'm sure of is once they're introduced to each other, emotions will be running high and things will get intense. Which honestly, I can't wait for and I'm counting down the days till I get a proper Amuro/Haibara interaction.

#shiho miyano #miyano shiho #haibara ai #ai haibara #sherry #furuya rei #rei furuya #tooru amuro #amuro tooru #bourbon #dcmk #case closed #detective conan #Detective Conan #elena miyano #miyano elena #vermouth

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blueprint-han · 4 years

Text

stay tonight — bang chan.

↪ why, you must be in love, then. oh trust me, i know.

— new years’ with Chan is spent confessing known feelings to each other and getting back at him for what he did to you on your first date.

pairing: chan x (gn) reader [while this was written with a fem reader in mind, i do think this can be read with a gender neutral perspective]

genre: fluff.

⇥ warnings: nothing at all! a little bit of kissing here and there, but this is completely sfw.

word count: 2.6 K

type: drabble.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Bang Chan, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

song: this was inspired by Stay Tonight by Chungha! Highly recommend listening to it when reading this fic <3

↯ note: This is actually shit™ because I was very writers blocky with this fic and had to rewrite it many times to develop a decent plot </3 still, hope you have a lovely Christmas! 🥰 Happy reading <3 this isn’t very well edited so please excuse any errors <//3 ⇥ dawn.☀️

“You know you’re not supposed to be sitting there, right?”

You straighten up and turn around at the familiar sound that rings through your ears, content when it’s exactly who you wish to see standing there. The smile exchanged between the both of you is simple, sweet and relaxing as you get off where you’re seated on the compound of the building. Walking towards him, your hands go around his waist and he chuckles in response. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You revert back. “I was just about to call you.”

Chan quirks a brow at you, silently grabbing your hand and leading you to the two random chairs placed at a convenient angle — one where you can both bask in each other’s presence and do some stargazing at the same time.

“Why? Did you miss me that much?” His tone is very cocky at the moment, and it makes you want to kiss that stupid grin off his lips. Sadly, he knows you well enough to know that such comments only fluster you when spoken — and that’s exactly what happens — you feel yourself go warm from the inside, a dizzy expression taking over your face as you sit next to him.

Love. The first time you’d encountered the term was in first grade — yet you’re almost certain it’s nothing like what you feel when he’s around you. This kind of love is different — it’s special. It’s the kind of love that causes a fiery sensation to bubble through you when you spare as much as a glance at him, yet it’s also the kind that keeps you calm and running like the waves washing against the shore of a golden beach.

You can’t put words to explain what love means after you met Bang Chan. It’s more than just a feeling or sensation — it’s like the warmth that flows through your insides when you sip on hot chocolate during cold winters, it’s when your whole life turns into shy smiles, delicate giggles and nervous glances exchanged towards each other. That could perhaps, only outline what you felt around him.

A small tug on your lips and flutter of your eyelashes is all it takes before Chan places his warm hand over your own, lacing fingers together as his thumb runs over the soft skin of your hand. There’s no need for words right now — just soft gazes lingering on each other and the chill air that clouds itself around you, making you yearn for the warmth that you know only Chan can provide.

You take a brief moment to let your eyes quickly run over Chan’s features — his black hair falling over his temples, his eyes peering into your own, his lips slightly parted open. He hasn’t taken the face chain off, yet. He looks like he’s taking you in too, and you want this moment to freeze right here. Because the way Chan’s looking at you right now almost sweeps you off your feet.

But of course, there’s your goofy side coming out when the feeling gets to the point where all you wanna do is just lean in and close the gap between the both of you.

“Close your mouth, mister.” You give him the most obscene-looking pout ever. “I know I’m too pretty to resist.” That (very cringy statement), paired with a wink thrown with each eye causes Chan to break eye contact from you and start laughing, hysterically.

“Y/N.” You can’t even see his eyes because of the tiny™ crescents that have taken their place. “What, in the name of lord, was that?” Chan clutches his stomach, his loud giggles very prominent in the quiet surroundings around you.

“Oh, come on, it’s the end of year. There should be harmony—” The last word is in a singsong voice, spreading your arms out to enhance the dramatic tone. “— everywhere possible. You just can’t appreciate my comedy.”

Chan only coos at you, leaning in to kiss your cheek ever-so-lightly before giving you the most beaming smile you’ve ever seen. He pinches where your cheeks feel hot. “Yes my little comedic genius, you’re adorable.”

“You love it.”

You pout at him, and Chan immediately leans in, cupping your cheeks and squishing them together before kissing the pout right off your face. He pecks lightly once, twice, thrice before pulling away, eyes glittering under the stars — you could see a whole universe in his orbs, and they seemed to be dragging you in.

You’d met — no, you’d properly seen Bang Chan for the first time when you passed by him in the MNET Countdown for their Miroh comeback. You’re forgetful enough to not remember what song you were promoting at that time, but you do remember bowing down at all the members of Stray Kids multiple times as you exited the stage. It was also the time you felt that tug on your heart’s strings, all because Chan’s lips pulled into a smile when his eyes fixated on yours.

You’re again, forgetful enough to not remember anything about your surroundings, but you do remember staring off into his brown eyes, even if it were for a mere second — yet it felt like you were swept off your feet. You do also remember when Chan reached out for your shoulder, and you froze. You weren’t capable of words as Chan brushed off a piece of tinsel off your top; throwing you a beaming smile.

“T-thank y-you,” You remember saying, stuttering, rather. You could feel his radiance clouding your brain as you scrambled along your route, trying to calm yourself down of that unfelt rush of emotion you’d just felt. The loud applause and the bustling crowd, the members singing their parts of the song, the other groups making their exit — you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything except that smile. Those eyes that crinkled into the finest of crescents, that flash of his dimples that softened your heart and then that final brush of his fingers against your shoulder, enough to take your breath away.

Call you lovestruck, but Bang Chan had you in his grasp the moment he laid his eyes on you.

The second time you met Bang Chan was again, at a show, but this time. You were an MC instead of a performer. You don’t need to dwell on the lot of details again, but you can still feel that shock wave that ripped through your fingers when Chan borrowed the mic from you. Your fingers only barely touched, yet you could feel all the blood rush to your face in that very moment, biting your lip slightly as you allowed him to do the talking.

You did pray and hope that he, or anybody else for that matter, didn’t notice how red you were, because hell that was embarrassing.

“You look at him like he’s an anime character come to life.” Ah, typical friends. Using your love for anime boys to tease the way you kept blushing every time Chan even so happened to walk past you.

Of course, by the third week of this happening, you were almost certain you’d fallen head over heels for the man — that man who you’d never talked to before, if you didn’t count the awkward hellos and bows you’d shared. You didn’t understand why or when or how he managed to catch your attention so much — all you knew was that you were hurled headfirst into the vortex of love, and you were only plunging deeper and deeper in, with no way out.

But did you want a way out?

“I can feel you staring.”

Oh shit. You awkwardly straighten yourself before shifting your gaze two degrees to the side. Chan’s dorm (he’d made sure all the boys were out) was a less-than-ideal-location for a first date, but being an idol has its own repercussions, you like to believe.

“Y/N!” He exclaims, giggling at you as he shakes your arm, like he’s trying to pull you out of a trance or something. It only makes you very obviously shy of the fact that he’s caught you red-handed.

“I have something for you…” He drags, his eyes looking curiously into yours, scanning for a response. Your own widen and a smile takes over your lips — you don’t care about the gift in all honesty, just the fact that he thought of getting you something for something like a first date warmed you up.

“What could that be, hm?”

“Wait here.”

He runs into his (shared) room and you hear sounds of him rummaging through something, and he returns with a small object in his hand. You try to get a glance at it but his hand is covering it up majorly, and he cheekily smiles as he sits in front of you.

“Close your eyes.” He says in that adorable, pouty voice that can have you do almost anything for him. Sure, this is your first date, but it took you two weeks after the confession to clear up your schedules and set a timing and place for you to meet up.

“Channn, just show it already!” You counter, groaning at his secretiveness.

“Nope, you’ll have to close your eyes.”

If he wasn’t so freaking adorable, you’d have snatched that thing from his hand, owing to the amount of curiosity you had.

“Ugh, okay fine.” You squeeze your eyes shut, sighing when you feel Chan’s soft hand engulf your own before placing something cold and… is that plastic?

You open your eyes to look at the small, rectangular object in your hand.

“A cassette tape?” You raise an eyebrow — not mockingly, but rather in a questioning way. As far as you remember, cassettes weren’t something used regularly to play music.

“Mhm, we had a lot of time before our first date, you know? So I thought I’d try to make it special.”

“Awh, how are we gonna play this?”

“Behind you.”

You frown, turning behind you to look at the massive, ancient cassette-player sitting on a table.

“How did I just notice that now?” Chan shrugs.

“Let’s l-listen to it then.” A small smile graces your lips.

And of course, you were crying by the end of the tape.

You do remember the contents of the tape. It had four songs — all of which were supposedly written for you — you didn’t bother to ask, but the mere thought of him going through all that to record and immortalize them into a tape had you touched.

The thought invokes a heavy feeling of nostalgia — suddenly you wanna go back in time, one year ago on your first date, just to relive the experience. Looking at Chan has always made you want to give everything you could to the man — yes, he was handsome, he was pretty, but moreover you could never, ever get over how much of a kind hearted and empathetic man he was. He’d pulled you out of your most vulnerable state and shown you how the true world was really like — filled with love, joy and exhilaration.

“Hey.” You hear the whisper and shake yourself out of your thoughts. “It’s thirty seconds to midnight. They’re gonna release the fireworks.”

A nod, and the both of you rush to move to the edge of the compound and gaze at the night sky.

“Don’t you think they’ll be looking for us below?”

“Nah, I told Hyunjin and Jisung where I’m going, they’ll take care of it.” Like usual, he intertwines your fingers together once again, looking up at the sky and then at his watch. You only giggle at his words, nodding before leaning to rest your head against his shoulder.

“Twenty seconds.”

This was it. In twenty seconds, the year would come to an end — while all the memories you’d made with Chan, and everyone for that matter, would remain, a small part of you would miss this year and all it’s days. Yet, you could be either excited for the year that was to come, or be sad that an amazing one was going to end — and you were leaning towards the former.

“You know,” You feel a sudden burst of emotion cutting through you — almost like you’re starting to tear up.

“Yeah?”

“I’m-I’m really glad I met you.”

The bustling of the city grows louder, and you can hear the collective chats echoing throughout the space.

Chan isn’t amused, but you can tell he’s taken aback by the sudden vocalization of your thoughts, especially when you tend to keep yourself on the more silent side.

“O-Oh…”

You smile, still holding his hand when you turn to face him and he does the same, eyes filled with curiosity, a hint of confusion, but he nonetheless let’s you speak.

“I don’t know, every time I look at you, I just think about — how grateful I am to have you standing next to me like this. And I might sound a little cheesy or dramatic here, but I’m really, so happy when I’m with you — you really make me smile without doing anything, you make me feel safe and it’s just… you’re so special to me.”

Perhaps it’s just the sudden surge of emotion you feel when you look into Chan’s eyes, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from saying anything. The words just spill out and string themselves into a confession that leaves Chan breathless.

A soft sniffle leaves your lips and Chan’s eyes gloss over too, he silently brushes his thumb under your eyes to collect the tears that fall out.

The loud sound of ringing resounds throughout, signifying that there’s only ten seconds left. The chants pour in, one by one. Ten, nine, eight, seven…

Chan really doesn’t know why he’s gotten emotional over a small confession, but to him it feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Not that he had any doubt in the first place, but the reassurance you give him is more satisfactory than anything he’s ever felt. While Chan knows you’re happy being with him (and vice versa), moments like these are what make your relationship lively and exciting, joyous.

Six, five, four.

“Why, you must be in love, then, Y/N.” He feels himself say. You look up to him and your eyes meet and it feels like a world’s united together. You love him, he loves you, and tonight, that is all that matters.

Three, two…

“Oh trust me.” You say, and at that moment, you hear nothing, except for the thudding of your quickened heartbeat and Chan’s voice catching in his throat. “I know.”

One.

You barely notice the luminescent firecrackers that start bursting behind and all around you high up in the sky when Chan’s gentle grip on your cheeks tightens and he pulls you in, chest crushing against yours as his lips engulf your own in one of the warmest, softest kisses you think you’ve ever received.

Because in the end, this is where you like being the most — in his arms, feeling his presence beside you building your confidence. You think it’s destiny, it’s fate how the both of you seem to click so much and fit with each other so well — indeed, you’re in love with Bang Chan. Because with the start of the new year, you can feel yourself forgetting about everything negative, everything except the light of your life, him. Your thoughts are fuzzy but still coherent, and you want to drown yourself in everything Chan, Chan, Chan.

When you pull away and rest foreheads against each other, finally, it all seems peaceful. There’s the distant chattering from below, but you and Chan are trapped in your own world to notice that.

“Happy New Year…” It’s a tiny whisper, yet you catch it quite easily.

“Happy New year,” you say, smiling at him lovingly before pecking his lips, leaning into his chest and humming when his hands wrap around your shoulders, engulfing you in warmth. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

You smile to yourself. In your head, you know what you’re gonna do is half to revive past memories and half because you want to get back at Chan for almost making you cry on that first date with his dimpled smile and his thoughtful gift.

“I have something for you.” You playfully word, feeling that wave of nostalgia hit you when Chan raises an eyebrow.

“I thought we didn’t get each other gifts for new years.”

“Yeah, but this is special. Close your eyes.” Chan does as you say, though reluctantly, holding himself back from tangling his fingers with yours again. You snicker at how he bites his lips and stiffens his fingers, leaning to press a soft kiss into his palm before placing the gift.

Chan frowns and opens his eyes to peer into your own, fiddling with the cassette tape in his hand.

“A cassette tape?” he probably doesn’t remember in explicit detail, but you try not to laugh at how he mimics the exact same way you acted on the first date.

“Yeah, it’s something I made for you.”

“Oh,” He looks at you sweetly, making your heart swell as you nod in agreement. “I’ll listen to it when I get home, we have the cassette player there.”

You shake your head. “Mhm, nope! Lucky for you, I contacted the right people so you could listen to it.”

Chan raises both his eyebrows in amusement, chuckling to himself as he turns in the direction you point.

“Behind you.”

And just like the old times, that cassette player was still there. It had taken you a whole two trips to McDonald’s to convince Minho to help you sneak it in, but if it all worked out, everything was set.

“How did I just notice that now?” Chan seems amused at the level you’ve gone to present your gift, and a tiny bit mellow at your actions.

And this time, you were the one who had him tearing up by the end of the night.

*:･ﾟ✧ find the other fics here !

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miracle-sham · 3 years

Text

Yet So Poison Entwined We Fracture.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Saturday Challenge 1: Hurt No Comfort} |

| It all went wrong so quickly. Marinette thought she could trust Jason, that he'd never betray her. And Jason thought the same. But with a truth-serum turned poison seeping through their veins, neither had thought to look for the purple feathers. |

| Word Count: 1,706. |

———

| A/N: I'll try and keep this short and sweet but it's nice to dip back into writing for Maribat, I really missed it whilst I was gone. Also I've now got a author's channel in MGI where I sometimes put title sneak peaks, snippets, and random au ramblings, so y'know feel free to pop into the channel and have a gander if you'd fancy! And one last thing, keen eyes may have noticed I've added a Spotify Playlist Link, it contains all the songs I listened to when working on this oneshot, if you're curious! |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics or a specific Au, then feel free to send me a dm and or ask! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

Marinette staggers back, clutching at her bloodied side as the world spins for a moment and everything blurs. Breath catches in her throat as a sharp pang of betrayal pierces her heart, tears springing to the corners of her eyes unbidden. Whimpering, she barely manages to cry out, “J–Jason?”

Heartbreak coating his name like the truth serum-poison making its way through her system at this very moment.

She makes an awful choking noise and collapses to her knees, scrunching her face up and wheezing. Barely is she able to keep her eyes open, fixated on staring at someone she thought she could trust.

Smirking lazily, Jason saunters up to her, crouches and then grabs her face by the chin, forcing her to tilt her head up to continue staring at him in the eyes. “Aw, did you really fucking think I cared about you this entire time?”

Marinette swallows thickly—unable to conjure up a response to him. Black spots start to form in the corner of her vision like watching a spattering of embers burning away on a piece of paper.

He tilts his head to the side and snorts, “really? Nothing to say, no heartfelt "I trusted you!" or "you're lying!". Not even a "I know the real you is still in there?", how fucking pathetic.”

There's a small part of her brain that starts flashing red lights and wailing alarms—warning her that she's in danger, that she's hurt, that she's stopped breathing. She can't breathe, can't move, can't say anything or she'll spill all her remaining secrets.

Jason sighs and drops her chin. “And here I fucking thought your shitty-ass reaction to me betraying you would be more fun.”

Grimacing, she waits a heartbeat after he lets go before mustering all her strength to slam her skull into his—if I'm going down, you're coming with me for this, Marinette mentally vows.

There's a horrendous thwacking sound as the impact lands, and Marinette feels as though her brain has turned into a blender that just had its blades snap mid blend.

Jason, on the other hand, flings himself backwards and curses up a storm. He pulls out one of his guns and with dizzying vision, manages to shoot a bullet that just clips the uninjured side of her ribs. “That's what you fucking get for that you bitch!”

Marinette doubles over as the pain seems to ricochet through her; vision blacking out completely. She struggles for breath, her hearing cutting off not a second later. Objectively, she's aware she's not alone. But as her senses shut down one by one, leaving her helplessly trapped in her own mind, she can't help but wonder why her heart aches with loneliness. I'm sorry, she silently apologises to no one and everyone.

Distantly, she thinks she's swaying—or collapsing again maybe. But it's hard to tell, it's disorientating trying to focus on the world with dying senses.

Marinette is lost. Every little movement, every little thought—it's agony, a struggle to keep going, keep holding on. Once more, she silently pleas for forgiveness from the kwami.

She stops.

Stops breathing. Heart stops beating. Stops fighting. It all stops.

At least this way, she thinks to herself, I can't spill any secrets from the truth serum-poison if I carry them to the grave instead…

She sinks into the darkness, clinging to her final thought in numb relief as she does so. Everything fades away.

———

Jason groans as the knife Marinette is wielding digs deeper between his ribs.

She doesn't move back immediately, so he grits his teeth and roundhouse kicks at her—the heavy thump of collision makes his wound burn like acid has just been poured on it.

He's a few seconds too slow pulling his leg back, as Marinette slices the knife through his calf.

“Fuck!” He bites out, throwing himself further out of her range and breathing. “Marinette!”

With the gall to smile faux-innocently, she plays with the knife in her hand, slipping it between her fingers and swirling it about. “Yes, Jason?”

“The fuck are you doing!?” He growls, shifting his position when she doesn't move to apply pressure to the calf wound.

She shrugs, seemingly unbothered, “what? Did you really think this wouldn't happen one day? That I wouldn't get sick of you. Show you just how much you've hurt me the entire time we've known each other?”

Jason spits blood from his mouth at the warehouse floor in front of her. “I don't believe whatever shit you're being made to spew, but I sure as fucking hell know that you'd never do something as fucked up as this.”

“Oh, that's cute! You still believe in me. What's next, are you going to beg me to come to my senses? Are you going to cry my name and hope it changes my mind? Are you going to declare that the "real" me is still there inside and that you're going to save me?” Marinette giggles, high-pitched and yet hollow sounding.

Jason flinches at the sound, breathing stuttering as the poison from her knife starts to really seep in. Shit, he thinks to himself, truth serum-poison. If I'm not careful I'm gonna say shit that should stay secret.

A flash of silver catches the edge of his vision. And it's all the warning he gets. He immediately ducks and rolls, cursing under his breath as his wounds are aggravated. The air by his hair swooshes as the blade just narrowly misses.

Marinette giggles taper off into a hiss of fury. Her hair slips out of her pigtails from the constant movement, and multiple strands fall in front of her face. She huffs, ineffectively blowing them out of the way. “Did you really think I ever loved you?”

“Yes!” The words are choked out of his mouth before he can even think, the truth serum-poison kicking in hard and fast. Jason wheezes and the taste of iron lingers like malice in his throat. Fuck, he thinks desperately, I'm running out of time and Marinette isn't snapping out of whatever the fuck's been done to her.

He stumbles into another roll, as the blade comes swinging at him again. His vision blurts violently, and the next thing Jason knows—is that his view has suddenly tipped upside down and that there's a throbbing ache radiating from the back of his shoulders and head.

“Huh, you really do have a thick skull. Normally that'd be enough to knock anyone else out. Well, I guess I'll have to do this the old fashioned way.” Marinette rambles, pulling out a rag.

Jason grunts as he pushes himself only to be slammed back into the concrete warehouse floor, rag pressed firmly over his mouth and nose.

He thrashes and refuses to inhale. Marinette scowls and kicks him sharply into the ribs, causing him to gasp through gritted teeth. But it's enough to affect him.

His vision teeters then flickers to black, he can feel his movements slowing—becoming more and more sluggish until he's as still as he was in that fucking coffin he's had to crawl out of once before. At least, he barely manages to cling to the final thought, I can't spill any secrets if I carry them to the grave once more.

And then it all fades away.

———

Lila steeples her finger and smirks. She's sitting in her plain white office for the Agreste, three monitors set up before her on the desk. The middle screen shows her emails and a few tabs up on fashion for work-related reasons. The outer two screens, however, show the feed to two identical cells—two by four by five metres with cement floors and grey brick walls, no windows and a single plain black metal door. No furniture either, not even beds or toilets, just chains attached to the wall opposite the door. And in the chains is what has Lila so very happy indeed; Marinette and Jason, one in each cell and both stuck in the chains with no hope for escape.

A steady pool of blood has already formed beneath the both of them, thanks to the wonderful work of her Sentimonster duplicates of the two.

Lila can't help but monologue in her glee, “It's so excellently simple really. Even if one escapes, there's no way they'll help the other escape now. Now they've experienced the pain of betrayal and torture inflicted by the other!”

Footsteps approach the door to her office; all it takes is a quick click and click of the mouse and her two outer screen feeds flip to showing more work-related tabs and emails.

The door opens to reveal Adrien, slightly dishevelled—hair and shirt ruffled, eyes red with dark bags beneath them, and shiny tear streaks down his cheeks—he stands in the threshold, shaking. “Did you know?”

Lila smiles in fake confusion. “Know what?”

Adrien swallows, gaze flickering to her screens. “Marinette's dead. So is Jason.”

Lila tilts her head to the side to make it look as though she's thinking. “The Wayne boy that was close to her, right? Oh dear.”

His tired gaze turns back to Lila as he continues. “They think both of them were kidnapped and tortured separately. Police have found traces of an altered truth-serum among the bloodstains and…” He chokes for a second, grief plain as day across his face. “and they found pieces of fingers, ears, slices of skin, and all.”

“Oh, oh, that's horrible!” Lila gasps, covering her mouth with her hands to hide the victorious curl forming on her lips. “Have they found out who was cruel enough to do that to them yet?”

Adrien shakes his head silently.

“Hopefully, the culprit will be found soon. But if you need any support, I'll always be here for you, Adrien!” Lila gravely announces, bobbing her head slightly as she spoke.

He narrows his eyes at her, shakes his head, and then stalks away from her office.

She scowls as soon as his back turns and gets up to shut her door. “Well,” She says to herself as she flips back to the cell feed, “at least that means I'll have plenty of time to pull the secrets from you two without the police thinking to look for you alive.”

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| Also feel free to send me any asks or comments with any questions you have regarding this oneshot, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

#Maribat #DC x MLB #MLB x DC #Jasonette #Jasonette July #JasMari #MariJay #Marinette x Jason #Jason x Marinette #Jasonette July 2021 #Jasonette July Saturday Challenge #Jasonette July Hurt No Comfort #Yet So Poison Entwined We Fracture #YSPEWF #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Sham's Fics

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aurodontdoit · 4 years

Text

Alucard Headcanons with a s/o.

SFW/NSFW

SFW

Upon first meeting, he may not pay you any mind unless you work closely with him, Seras, and Integra.

If by chance, you manage to captivate his attention, and keep it, he'll make sure that you are on missions with him and Seras. His respect seems to go as far as a respect for you as an operative and fighter. At least it seems that way, however, he takes great pride in teasing you from time to time, saying things like:

"I'm rather shocked, human, you're rather strong, and able. That is surprising considering you stature."

Alucard is 6 feet 6 inches tall. If you match him or are taller he will still say this more out of admiration but if you are shorter (which may or may not be likely) more in a teasing way.

His sudden grasp of attention flares up into intrigue, you somehow fascinate him, and make him curious. He will still tease you for such human things but never in a belittling fashion more out of a way to recognize your capability and strength to continue living even in life's hardships.

Soon enough that intrigue becomes, respect, then fixation, which blooms into adoration, and eventually, if he decides to pursue you by confessing, could possibly become love.

Alucard has lived a long long L O N G time, and he has seen and done a lot of things... You are possibly one of the first good things to enter his life. Integra, and Seras being before you in that regard.

He loves like... Fire. It consumes all, and can be destructive if handled poorly. Heated, warm, passionate, Unconditional... Fierce.

You are so very important to him. Your presence is a reminder of how the sun felt when he was human... The light and warmth that your touch leaves on his skin even long after your hands have left him. he will not openly admits he wants or needs you or your affections at first, but, in the dead of night, when you two are alone, either laying together or strolling under the night sky, and only the moon lay witness, he will bare his soul to you. He will relay his true feelings, his doubts, and everything in between.

The man does not believe he deserves such a loving individual such as yourself, and will take a long time for him to accept that he is worthy of love, giving and receiving. If you understand, and show him you care, he will forever be yours.

"....you are my heart, y/n... I'll never understand how someone as sweet as you could love a monster like me, but I'm eternally grateful, and I cherish you..."

His love is relentless, and passionate. He'll still tease you, but now, it's out of love and, dare I say, lust.

NSFW

Alucard's burning red pupils never leave your form. The way you walk, the sound of your voice, your smile, your everything just turns him on. One thing that gets him going more than anything is your scent.

Yes this man thinks you're just stunning the way you are and no matter what you wear or don't wear

But being a vampire, his sense of smell is heightened so he can smell your shampoo two days after washing, smell every hormonal change, the faintest trace of your perfume/cologne.

If you're a woman who menstruates, he can smell your hormonal changes, and your sweet sweet blood.

Would absolutely red wing you. (I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. XD) a very sinful man. Will go down on you and fuck you but only if you want him too.

In bed, he's rough and almost animalistic when he's really riled up. He can also be very slow, passionate, tantric even.

Either way, there's candles and sultry smelling incense burning as he pounds you into a pleasurable oblivion.

Quiet for the most part. Not a moaner, or a screamer, but he is a growler.

Like D a m n .... The soft rumble of his voice through his toned slightly chest as he thrusts his way inside you is damn near climax inducing.

Such a kind at dirty talk. Not degrading, unless you want him to be, but very much a tease.

"hmmm you get so wet at the slightest touches~ I'm flattered, my dear~"

"can you feel how hard you make me?~ mmmm keep saying my name like that, and I might just lose control~"

"you make such adorable noises, I can feel you twitching with desire~"

"that's it love, take all in like a good little cum slut~ you like my cock inside you don't you?~"

"tease me again, and I'll make sure you and your hole pay dearly~"

Alucard is absolutely pansexual or bisexual. This man and his many forms and multiple attractions.

Also, Vlad the Impaler was said to have had multiple lovers, both male and female in his day.

Alucard will fuck you in all of his forms at least once or twice depending on what you say.

Just picture this, Vladcard whispering sweet nothings into your ear in Romanian while he thrusts into you hard and deep, occasionally nipping and sucking your neck.

Prefers to be completely bare with his partner when in bed.

Slow dances are a norm between you two.

Very romantic and sensual, preferring to take his time to cherish your sounds, and then almost animalistic when near climax.

If you're a human, he will love you like there's no tomorrow, if you choose the night as his queen/king, he will still love you like there's no tomorrow.

You are his and he is yours. That's it.

#hellsing alucard #hellsing #Hellsing Headcanons #alucard #tw periods #ambiguous reader

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onlysarah235678 · 3 years

Text

A Little Bit Part 17

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Hi there! I hope everyone has survived this week of storms and everything else. ❤️. Angst in the beginning of this one. I’m wrapping things up but we still have some loose ends to tie up….LOOK AT THIS GIF. 😍

Warnings: angst, mentions of domestic abuse, mention of attempted sexual assault (I did the thing with the *** again).

You and Billie take Milo on a longer walk than you usually would at this time of day. It was almost dark, so there weren’t many people around making the walk a quiet one. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were dragging your feet a little to buy yourself some time. You intend on keeping your promise to Billie by telling her what was bothering you, but you keep doubting your decision.

Billie had told you that she didn’t care about your baggage. At the very least, she’d said that it wouldn’t change her feelings for you. Still, you hate to bring the issue up again because it seems like it’s been forever since you two just had a conversation about something nice, casual, and not stressful. You can’t remember the last time you two went out on a date, and you hate how tense and stressful everything is between you.

Maybe it was just your insecurities, but you sigh as you and Billie come up on the end of the neighborhood. You’re probably going to turn around soon, if Milo would stop peeing.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

You feel some of your anxiety melt away at that familiar term of endearment, and you turn toward Billie with a small smile. You squeeze her hand before shaking your head in refusal. You don’t really want to talk about this now because you are almost certain you’ll be crying for at least some of this conversation. Still, you don’t want to leave Billie hanging so you tell her the truth. At least as much of it as you’re willing to at the moment.

“I’m just thinking about everything that’s happened in the past few months. How much has changed.”

Billie doesn’t respond immediately. She watches how you turn back around, heading for home, with a faraway look. It seems more contemplative than anything else, but Billie can’t figure out what you’re trying to say.

“Good and bad?”

You smile as Milo leads the three of you back to Billie’s. He’s eager for his treat because he picks up the pace a little, but you just hold his leash tighter so he doesn’t drag you. You’re not really in the mood for that tonight.

“Yes, luckily more good than bad recently.”

You shoot Billie a charming smile that she practically melts at. She pulls you towards her so you’re close enough to kiss, and you laugh as you practically fall into the medium.

You mean what you say. That more good things have happened to you than bad. Unfortunately, the bad is starting to catch up with you due to your failure to deal with anything that really bothers you. You shut it out and you’re learning quickly that this is not a good thing. You know you need to work on this, but you’re just not sure how. How do you come to terms with things that are over and done with? Things that you hate to talk about?

Billie waits patiently as you find your next words. You look to Milo with a smile. He’s looking back at you and Billie occasionally, as if making sure that you’re still there. You are once again reminded of how much your dog means to you, and how much he’s helped you these past few months.

“Things just started stacking up, you know? I didn’t deal with how my ex made me feel, and then my dad’s death, and now with this asshole I don’t even really know? It just seems like at this point it’s all too overwhelming. That I’m better off ignoring it.”

You can feel Billie about to respond to this, so you beat her to it with a sigh of defeat.

“I know I'm not, Billie. I just. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

You wait for what feels like years as Billie considers what you’re saying. She can’t really pretend like she knows how you feel, or what your logic is for not dealing with your problems. Having so many traumatic things happen in such rapid succession can leave anyone a little dazed and unsure of how to proceed. All she knows is what you told her, so Billie tries not to assume anything as she finally shoots you a smile.

You don’t notice because you’re too busy looking around for something. Billie doesn’t realize this until you fail to respond, or even acknowledge what she’s said after a few seconds.

“Well, what is it that makes you want to deal with it now?”

You’re too busy staring at a car that looks familiar to realize that Billie’s responded. You walk past the car that you swear was about a block away from Billie’s when you left before you look back to the medium. You see that she’s looking at you expectantly, and suddenly it clicks that you’ve missed something. You apologize before looking back over your shoulder with a frown.

“Sorry, I just—does that car look familiar to you? I feel like I’ve seen it multiple times on this walk already.”

You know it’s possible that there is more than one gold SUV in this neighborhood, but you can’t help but be a little paranoid. Billie frowns too as she looks to the car that they just passed. She honestly hadn’t been paying much attention to anything other than you and Milo. Mostly what you said and what she could sense from you. She shakes her head before turning back to you, and telling you the truth.

“Sorry, Y/N. I haven’t really been paying attention.”

You just nod at this before you decide that you’re just being paranoid. You continue down the street and you’re almost to Billie’s before you realize that you hadn’t asked what Billie had said at all.

“Wait, what were you saying earlier? I got distracted by potential stalkers.”

Billie just smiles at you as she shakes her head and turns to look at the dog that is coming your way. She watches as you hold Milo’s leash tighter and steer him in the other direction as he spots the dog and immediately starts tugging.

“Milo, knock it off.”

He listens, sort of, and you only have to move him to your other side, in between you and Billie for him to calm down.

“It’s okay. We can talk about it when we get back.”

You take this as an excuse to put it off again, so you simply nod before allowing your mind to wander.

Before you know it, you’re back at Billie’s and you’re taking care of Milo while Billie checks on the cats. It’s only 8 pm but you’re exhausted and could sleep now. You leave Milo in the living room as you head upstairs to take a shower. You go check on Billie first and you smile as you peek your head into the laundry room to see her sitting next to the kittens. As usual Bit barely acknowledges your presence.

“Hey, I’m going to shower, do you need anything?”

Billie just smiles at you and shakes her head. You’re not surprised to see that she’s holding Mickey and you smile at the adorable sight before leaving with a sigh. You can feel your headache coming back just at the thought of the conversation you started on the walk. You could just drop it and worry about it tomorrow, but you wanted to be honest. You also wanted someone to tell you that you were being ridiculous.

As you take off your clothes, find a towel and turn on the shower you think about how irrational you’re being. You have only run into Doug maybe half a dozen times since you moved to LA. You realized that you both like to go on early morning walks, in your case with Milo, every day and you at least saw each other maybe every other week. That wasn’t a big deal, and you knew it, but since you started dating Billie, you’d learned what a homophobic asshole he was. You almost felt like he sought you out sometimes, but that was ridiculous.

Right?

You think back to the last time you saw Doug, before he pushed you down the stairs. It had been in the mail room and he’s muttered a slur under his breath before leaving. He hadn’t touched you then, but clearly that hadn’t stuck. You think about how easy it should be to avoid him and how there was no real reason to be afraid.

As you’re standing in the shower trying to convince yourself that Doug isn’t a threat, you realize why you’re so fixated on this. Why you’re giving someone who doesn’t deserve a second thought, so much of your time and energy.

You groan under your breath at your own stupidity. Then you curse yourself for not knowing where to go from here, despite knowing what you need to do.

Why did life have to be so hard?

By the time you’re out of the shower your headache is back full-force. You groan as you manage to change clothes before you have to sit down on the bed. You close your eyes and just try to relax and will away your headache, but your head is still pounding almost 10 minutes later. You lie down on the bed and groan under your breath. You don’t realize how long you lay there until you almost fall asleep.

Milo gets bored downstairs and decides to come and look for either you or Billie. Since Billie was still with the kittens, he finds you first and he hurriedly pushes his way into the room and over to you. He starts pawing at your arm and you groan again before turning away from him.

“No, Milo stop! Go away.”

You hope that this will be enough to get your dog to leave you alone, but really you know Milo better than that. He sits down and whines loudly before he decides to take matters into his own hands. He circles the bed and jumps up on to it, jostling you and making your head throb annoyingly. You open your eyes to glare at him when he starts to lick your face.

“No! Bad Milo. Get down!”

Milo whines but he listens to you, and is on the ground by the time Billie is coming into the room. She looks inside, immediately seeing you curled up on the bed with your head under a pillow and Milo looking pitiful from where he sits on the floor just staring at you.

“Are you alright?”

You don’t have the energy to turn and face Billie and that really tells her all that she needs to know. Still, she cuts off the lights and walks towards the bed with a frown. You sigh before you chance a look out from under the pillow to see that Billie has turned off the lights. You know you shouldn’t be, but you’re surprised by this. Eventually you wave Billie off ineffectively.

“My head hurts, but it’s okay. I just need to lie here.”

Billie doesn’t say anything for a little while. She does some math in her head, realizing that you just took your meds before looking to Milo when he whines. She watches you flinch slightly at the sound and she makes the decision to take him off your hands.

“Other than taking Milo, is there anything I can do for you?”

You smile at this before removing the pillow from you face and turning so you are looking at Billie. You shake your head before regretting it instantly and cringing at your stupidity.

“That’s more than enough, thank you. I really think I just need to sleep it off.”

Billie doesn’t argue with you and she just leaves hoping that you’ll feel better sooner rather than later. She takes Milo downstairs with her, and gives him a treat when he sits down in the living room. She tries getting some work done, but she’s distracted and not worried enough about the interview to really focus. She’ll have all day tomorrow, not that she needed it, so she closes her computer before looking to Milo.

He’s licking his paws clean, but he looks up at Billie when she stands. He’s quick to get up too as Billie walks to the kitchen to get something to drink. She drinks most of a glass of wine standing at the counter as she stares out the window. It’s dark so she can’t see anything really, but she looks to where she knows the garden is, and wonders who would have snuck back there.

She’s afraid that she knows who it is, or at least why they were back there and she sighs in defeat. She considers how likely it is that you will continue to be bothered. She hopes that the novelty wears off soon, but there’s really no telling at this point. Billie just hopes that they leave you alone at least until you are feeling better.

Billie finishes her wine and cleans the kitchen before glancing at the clock. It’s a little early for her to sleep, but she figures she’ll walk Milo one last time and then check on the cats before going to bed. She would have to check on you too, but she was certain you were asleep at this point.

You are upstairs failing to sleep when your phone goes off from somewhere in the room. You groan, not sure of where you’d left it, and you are tempted to ignore it until it continues to vibrate. You sit up in bed forcing your eyes open as you scan the room. It is completely dark except for the dim light of your phone in the middle of the floor. Why had you left it there?

You sigh in relief when it finally stops vibrating, but you decide that you need to get it in case it starts again. You throw the covers that you’d managed to crawl under off of you before swinging your legs off to the side of the bed. You don’t bother standing up, you just drop to your knees before crawling towards you phone. You’re glad you’re alone because this probably looks as weird as it is, but you get your phone without aggravating your headache too much.

You silence it and carry it back with you before putting it on the side table. You groan under your breath as you simply close your eyes and just wait until you summon the energy to crawl back into bed. You glance at your phone realizing it is already 10, and you just hope that Billie will take care of Milo because you are not about to go downstairs to walk him.

You are almost asleep when Billie comes to check on you a little while later.

After taking care of the kittens and walking Milo, Billie gets ready for bed. She decides to leave Milo downstairs for the night, and he doesn’t seem to mind as he gets settled in the living room. She glances to your door before retreating into her room. She changes clothes, brushes her teeth and washes her face before she looks to her bed. She wants to check on your before sleeping, so she sneaks down the hall and opens the door as quietly as possible.

She looks in and sees that you’re under the covers and appear to be asleep. She turns to leave, starting to shut the door until she hears you shift and groan under your breath.

“Billie?”

Billie releases her hold on the door before she speaks as quietly as possible.

“Hi, Y/N. I was just checking to see if you needed anything?”

You don’t respond immediately, and you just sigh before shifting so you’re closer to the middle of the bed. You stifle a yawn as you speak up just loudly enough for Billie to hear.

“Yes, please. Come sit?”

Billie realizes that you’re making room for her and she sighs before walking further into the room. She shuts the door behind her before coming to stand at the side of the bed, watching as you throw back the covers for her.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you need? Water or--?”

You just shake your head before patting the bed with a yawn. “Nope. Just you.”

Billie sighs in defeat as she simply nods before getting into bed next to you. She’s careful not to jostle you too much, but as soon as she’s lying under the covers, you’re moving closer to her. You wrap your arms around her tentatively before you peer up at her with a curious look that’s lost on her due to the darkness.

“Is this okay?”

Billie just smiles before telling you that it’s fine, so you lie down with your head on her shoulder before you close your eyes.

Billie is near sleep when you speak up again. She opens her eyes in surprise because she was certain that you had fallen asleep. She hadn’t expected you to speak so suddenly and she jumps slightly before turning to see that you’re looking at her. It’s too dark to really make out your expression, but Billie guesses that you’re frowning based on what you said.

***

“I never told you what was bothering me.”

Billie starts to shake her head but then realizes you may not notice. Your eyes are closed and you are still curled up against Billie as you fight off your headache. You open them slightly and even though there isn’t a lot of light coming in from the window, it’s enough to irritate you.

“You don’t have to tell me, Y/N. It’s late.”

Billie waits as you figure out how you want to respond. You don’t say anything immediately. You just sigh as you try to get move comfortable, and turn so you’re able to see Billie’s face. At least the little bit of it that’s visible.

“I know. I just don’t want you to be mad.”

Billie isn’t sure what to say to this at first and decides to wait until you elaborate. You don’t however so she just asks the obvious question.

“Why would I be mad?”

You take a deep breath before you move away a little so you can see Billie without being on top of her. You don’t realize that she takes this the wrong way. You’re too worried about not saying the wrong thing.

“I want to tell you what she did so you understand why I’m like this. I just don’t want you to be mad.”

Billie frowns at this and opens her mouth to say something, but you beat her to it. You need to speak up before you lose your nerve. You frown at the thought of what happened earlier tonight. You hate how just talking to Billie had somehow reminded you of her. She and Billie couldn’t be more different, but you supposed it couldn’t be helped. You could only do better.

“She used to yell at me for apologizing too much. She’d tell me I was worthless because I was too soft.”

You close your eyes, missing Billie’s look as you try to block out the memories of all the fights you used to have. Maybe you had been too soft. You’d stopped fighting against her because arguing seemed useless, and eventually you’d run instead of trying to figure things out. Not that you believed you could have. Billie on the other hand, is thinking back to your conversation in the kitchen and how your demeanor had changed so suddenly. Had she done something to make you think of your ex?

“I’m not telling you so you feel bad, for me. I’m just realizing that with the whole thing that happened with Doug, not dealing with how she made me feel isn’t an option.”

Billie had been waiting for you to say this. Since she’d asked you on the walk with Milo why you were wanting to figure this out now. It was less of a mystery to Billie now given what you’ve told her, but she wanted to know your intentions, and if she could help.

“I just have some things I need to unlearn.”

Billie is quiet for a while as she considers what you could be talking about. You yawn and close your eyes again, feeling sleepier now that you’re nice and comfortable. You don’t realize how Billie’s deep in thought until she speaks up. You’re so shocked by what she says that you nearly sit up.

“When Milo interrupted us in the kitchen…was that because of something your ex did?”

You had not been expecting Billie to bring this up. Sure you’d explained to Billie why Milo had reacted the way he had, but you suppose you hadn’t told her exactly what had happened. You’d mentioned being pushed around. You hadn’t wanted to tell Billie all of the details.

Now; however, Billie was asking for clarification and you wanted to give it to her. It just meant that you had to talk about something you hadn’t told anyone.

This probably needed to change.

“Yes. She um-we were fighting and she shoved me onto the counter and-.”

You trailed off as you recall what happened that day. You’d been out with some friends for too long, and the two of you had gotten into a yelling match. It quickly turned physical and you found yourself pinned beneath her.

You don’t notice how you start to fidget, and your hands go to your hair as you clear your throat.

“She tried to force herself on me, but Milo scared her off.”

You briefly wonder where your dog is before your attention is brought back to Billie. She reaches out for one of the hands that is currently tugging at your hair with a questioning look. You meet her the rest of the way and sigh in relief when she pulls you closer.

“I’m sorry if that, or anything else I’ve done has made you uncomfortable. If I ever do something you don’t like, tell me. I won’t be offended.”

You shake your head immediately because you didn’t want this. You don’t want Billie to apologize for doing something that you’d wanted. You hadn’t been thinking about anything but Billie when Milo had interrupted you two. You’d been surprised that he reacted the way he did because honestly other than that one similarity, there was nothing else about that encounter that resembled what happened with your ex.

“Billie, no. You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, or that I didn’t like.”

You sigh as you run your fingers over Billie’s absentmindedly as you play with her nails.

“It’s—it wasn’t the same. I’m not sure why Milo reacted that way, and…”

You take a deep breath, fighting the blush you know will appear at your next words. It’s dark enough that Billie won’t see it, but you’re sure she can hear it as you stutter slightly.

“The way you tease me is only in a way I-um like, and I love every second of it.”

Billie only manages a weak smile at this. She’s too busy thinking about how so many of the things she’s done or said to you could have been triggering. Initially, she hadn’t thought your shyness was due to anything other than your personality. She hadn’t considered you’d been hurt and that you were reluctant to trust people. Billie suddenly felt awful for somehow not realizing this sooner.

Billie sighs and you frown when you realize that she’s not cutting herself any slack. This is what you’d been worried about. You didn’t want Billie to beat herself up over this. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Just—please. If I ever do anything that’s out of line, let me know?”

You nod immediately before leaning forward to kiss Billie’s cheek. You smile, sincerely hoping that she catches a glimpse of it before you sigh and squeeze Billie’s hand tightly.

“You’ve been so sweet, and so considerate with me Billie. I feel so lucky and I know you may think it’s a big deal, but sometimes I’m okay with being bossed around. If it’s the right person and you’re kind, which you are.”

You stop rambling abruptly and take a deep breath before everything that you’d said registers. You’re slightly mortified by that last bit, but you don’t get a chance to think too much about it before Billie just laughs breathily and nods more to herself than to you. She leans in to kiss your forehead and then your nose before sighing in relief.

Okay, good. But, Y/N--.”

You already know what she’s going to say, so you cut her off with a kiss. You move closer to her so she can wrap her arms around your waist and pull you against her. You sigh in contentment before nodding with a small smile.

“Yes, I will tell you if I don’t like something, Billie. I promise.”

***

When you wake up the next morning, you forget where you are for just a second. Despite all of the convincing you’d done yesterday, mostly to yourself, you’d had a dream about Doug. You’d been in your apartment with Milo, and it had been a normal day. The dream had promptly ended when you’d woken up after answering the door to see Doug standing there with that same damn scowl of his.

You look around as you sit up with a groan. The bed is empty and you lie back down when your head pounds painfully. You’re parched and need to drink something, but you’re too lazy to get up. You settle back into bed, only having a few seconds to wonder where Billie is before the bedroom door opens.

You’re convinced that Billie is able to read your mind when you see that she’s brought two cups of something with her. You smile as you take the cup of coffee that is mostly milk, before kissing Billie in thanks. She smiles at you before moving to sit beside you. You sit up, careful not to spill before draining half the cup.

“You’re my favorite, did you know that?”

Billie laughs in response as she places her cup on the side table before scooting closer to you. She eyes you curiously but you miss it as you turn to put your cup down with a smile. You turn back to Billie when she places a hand on your thigh.

“Your favorite what?”

Your smile turns down slightly as you think about this, but it quickly widens as you shrug in faux disinterest. There’s a lot you could say but instead you decide to be sincere as you place a hand on top of Billie’s. You play with one of her rings before you meet her gaze with a smile.

“My favorite person, probably. You’ve been such a huge help and I’m just really grateful.”

You look away slightly embarrassed by what you say, but Billie stops you with a hand on your cheek. She’s smiling as she runs her fingers along you jaw before shaking her head.

“You deserve it, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

You roll your eyes, about to argue in some way but Billie cuts you off before you can even get a word out. You don’t feel like arguing once Billie’s lips touch yours and you sigh before leaning into the medium. Her hand moves to the back of your head to tangle in your hair as you kiss Billie harder. You groan as Billie tugs on your hair a little, and you turn so you’re closer to her. You don’t get a chance to reach out for her before Billie’s moving away from you.

You frown and you’re about to ask what’s wrong before Billie speaks up. Her hand falls from your hair and moves to your cheek again, Billie’s shooting you a concerned look as she runs her thumb along your bottom lip.

“How are you feeling?”

You smile slightly before your brow furrows in confusion. You’re used to Billie checking in with you, but it seems a little early for her. Usually she wouldn’t ask until you two got a little further along in what you were doing, but as you search Billie’s face for an explanation you realize that you are overlooking something that was fairly important.

“Um, I’m fine, how are you feeling?”

Billie realizes that you don’t really understand what she’s asking so she drops her hand into her lap.

“Your head, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen before you nod in confirmation. You smile before closing the gap between you and Billie again with another nod.

“Yes! It’s much better. I promise.”

You wait until Billie’s skeptical look disappears, and you smirk when she sighs in defeat. You move so you’re practically in Billie’s lap before she speaks up.

“You promise?”

You nod enthusiastically before leaning back in to kiss Billie. She doesn’t let you take lead for long and you just smile as she grabs your hips and pulls you into her lap. You resist the urge to groan as her fingernails dig into the sensitive skin at your waist. You sigh as Billie parts your lips and your hands immediately find her hair. You ignore the voice at the back of your mind telling you to take it easy. You’ve been here for three days and you and Billie hadn’t done more than kiss in passing.

You were recovering, sure, but that doesn’t stop your libido from rearing it’s head. In fact, it seems that spending time with Billie like this and getting to see her all the time has the opposite effect. Not that you expected anything else. You loved spending time with Billie, but you hated that you couldn’t do anything other than sit around.

You supposed this didn’t exactly count as just sitting around.

Your hold on Billie’s hair tightens as the blonde’s hands start to wander. You are too distracted by Billie’s hands sneaking under your shirt to hear Milo immediately. Billie just chooses to ignore him because he’s been fed and walked. All he really wants now is attention. You hiss at the feeling of Billie’s hands sliding up your back, but you jump when Milo stops whining and decides to scratch at the door. You groan as you turn away from Billie to glare at the closed door. You don’t move because you’re not about to leave now. Milo can entertain himself for a while.

“Milo, no! Go away.”

Milo continues to scratch at the door, and you groan before shouting at him again. He stops but continues to whine, but you roll your eyes and just turn back to Billie. You smile before shifting your weight on Billie’s lap as you lean towards her again.

“He can take care of himself for a little bit.”

Milo sits at the door waiting for you to open it for a couple of minutes before giving up. Mostly, he is distracted by the sound of someone coming up the stairs. He turns and sees Bit grooming herself. The two of them had mostly avoided each other because Bit didn’t want anything to do with Milo. So she eyes him warily as she cleans her coat just down the hall from him. Since Milo didn’t have any luck with you, he decides to go see if Bit wants to play with him.

Once Milo left you and Billie alone, the two of you had picked up right where you left off. You’re shirtless and horizontal by the time that you hear Bit yowling and hissing from the hallway. You curse under your breath as you sit up quickly and hurry to jump off the bed. Billie is right behind you when you open the door to the sound of Bit hissing loudly at Milo who is crouched down in his play bow in front of the cat. Bit however, is having none of it, and she hisses at him as he tries to get closer to her.

“Milo! Hey, come here.”

You hurry to pull Milo away from Bit who has her back arched and looks like she wants to claw the shit out of him. Luckily, Milo turns to you when you call his name and he bounds over to you. He jumps scratching you and you yell at him before telling him to sit.

“Ow! Milo no! Sit down.”

Once Milo is out of the way Bit runs to the laundry room to escape. It’s not open so Billie goes to let her in while you take Milo back to Billie’s room. You tell him to sit as you find your shirt and get dressed. You don’t find it immediately, and Billie returns before you manage to pull it back on. You sigh once you’re finally dressed and you shoot Milo a glare before smiling at Billie.

“I guess I’m up now.”

It’s lunch time before you and Billie have a moment of peace. Milo has decided to be a demon today, and Billie got stuck on calls for work that she hadn’t been expecting. She didn’t have too much to do in terms of preparing for Friday. It was really just another couple of interviews, one in the morning and one late at night, if you understood correctly.

You didn’t have much to do either. You didn’t work until Monday, but Milo was causing you more trouble than usual. He was being a brat and not leaving you alone until you took him outside. After the third time you told him that he was staying put until after lunch. He did not like this and started whining loudly. You didn’t want him disturbing Billie so you cave and take him outside again. This time, you go to the backyard to get him to calm down and to get some fresh air. You’re surprised by how sunny it is outside until you remember that you had been wearing sunglasses for the last two times you walked Milo. Your headache had come back and the only way to make walking him tolerable was to wear them.

You let Milo wander around the yard while you lie down in one of the chairs on the deck. You watch Milo carefully, but he hasn’t shown much interest in going beyond Billie’s yard. Still, you call him over after a few minutes and he comes to lie down next to you after planting a messy kiss on your cheek. You groan before scratching his muzzle and then squishing his ears.

“Are you feeling better now? Less bratty?”

Milo only licks you again before resting his head on your stomach. It doesn’t look super comfortable how he’s sitting, but you don’t protest as you lie back and stretch out your legs with a yawn. You definitely could fall asleep here if you’re not careful.

Billie sighs as she finally hangs up the phone after almost an hour of talking to her producer. She hadn’t expected this call and she was a little ticked. She needed a break from work for a while to cool off. She looks at the clock and sees that it is almost 1. She didn’t realize how late it was and now she’s annoyed for another reason.

Billie had been planning on eating with you, maybe even going out, but she figured you already had lunch. It had been about an hour since she’d seen you last.

Billie sighs as she stands up to search for you, but once she steps into the kitchen, she immediately sees Milo on the deck. She walks towards the back door and finally sees you lying in one of the chairs. Your eyes are closed making Billie think that you are probably asleep, so she opens the door quietly.

Milo notices her first of course and his tail starts to wag as he stands up to greet her. Billie smiles reaching out for him as she sneaks a peek at you, confirming that you are definitely asleep. You look comfortable all stretched out and Billie was tempted to leave you to rest.

You woke up, unsurprisingly, when Milo whined from beside you. You groan softly as you open your eyes, quickly covering them when you realize you were still outside.

“Tired?”

You turn suddenly at the sound of Billie’s voice, and you see her sitting in the chair next to you with Milo sitting between you. You smile before sitting up and shaking your head. Despite this, you yawn but ignore Billie’s look before asking how her calls went.

“Billie, hi. How did it go? Are you done?”

Billie sits up as well as she turns toward you with a sigh. She was tired, but she got most of the work she needed to do today done. You smile at this and you stand up and move to sit next to Billie. You consider sitting closer, but settle down beside her before responding.

“That’s great. So you have most of the afternoon off?”

You can’t help but smile widely as you ask this, and Billie of course, sees right through you. She laughs before pretending to think about this for a moment. She knows her answer already and is certain that you do too, but she looks to Milo briefly before making a contemplative noise.

“Hmm I’m not sure. I might be able to find more work to do.”

You pout at this and decide to see if you can convince Billie to find something better to do than work. You slide onto Billie’s lap and wrap your arms around her neck with a dramatic sigh.

“Billie, come onnn. There has to be something more exciting you can do. If you really don’t have to work…”

You shoot Billie a pleading look and the medium just smirks as she pulls you closer. You lean in to kiss her, but she turns away last minute making you pout yet again. You don’t frown for long though before Billie finally asks you what you had in mind.

“I guess I don’t have to, but what could possibly be more exciting than work?”

You kiss Billie’s cheek before looking around the backyard briefly. You weren’t too worried about being seen because Milo would probably warn you if you were no longer alone. So you just shrug before leaning in for a proper kiss. Your smile widens when Billie doesn’t turn away this time.

“I’m sure we can think of something.”

It was almost 3 pm before you and Billie got around to eating lunch. You were already thinking take out when Billie speaks up. She’s standing at the counter pouring the two of you glasses of water while you sit on the couch with Milo at your feet.

“What do you want to do for lunch? I was thinking we would go out, until we got sidetracked.”

You smile and turn to Billie as she says this. You thank her as you take one of the glasses before moving over so she can sit down. She smiles in thanks as you pick up your phone again to show Billie what you were looking at.

“Ah, right. Maybe we can just order in and go out another time?”

You turn to Billie who watches as you grab your phone before nodding. She thinks about when the best time for this would be. Given that she’s so busy tomorrow she doesn’t want to promise anything. However, she knows that she may need to destress after the interviews and her favorite way to relax was spending time with you.

“How about we go out tomorrow after I finish up working, if I’m not too exhausted?”

You turn to Billie with a surprised look. You are certain that you will be exhausted the time Billie finishes working tomorrow. One of her interviews was at night, and you liked staying up sometimes, but you’re not sure you want to stay up that late.

“Uhh, won’t you be working until midnight?”

Billie laughs at this before shaking her head. She now understands your bewildered look, but she just smiles before clarifying what tomorrow will look like.

“No, sweetheart. We’re filming that interview in the afternoon. It won’t really be live.”

You nod as realization dawns on you and you almost sigh in relief. You love spending time with Billie, but you’re not sure you could commit to anything after midnight.

“Okay. Well then sure. If you’re up to it.”

You both spend a few minutes talking about what to order for lunch before planning tomorrow night. Since you’re not sure if Billie is going to be in the mood to go out, you decide on a place that doesn’t require reservations. Billie asks you if there is anywhere you would like to go. You don’t know many places that you would want, and since Billie knows more about the area you suggest that she chooses.

“Well, we could go somewhere that allows dogs.”

You’re a little caught off guard by this and you shoot Billie a confused look. You turn to Milo before looking back to Billie with a small smile.

“You want Milo to come with us? On a date?”

Billie simply shrugs before saying why not. She likes Milo and has a feeling he’d be well behaved. Also, she didn’t want him staying at home alone with the cats for too long. When Billie says this, you smile in understanding before trying to think of a way that you could make him staying here work. Just in case Billie didn’t really want him tagging along. You of course thought of several reasons why having him would be beneficial, but you keep those to yourself for now.

“Are you sure, Billie? We can figure something else out.”

Billie just smiles again before shaking her head. She reaches out for your hand before glancing at Milo who is looking at you like he always is.

“I want you to be comfortable, Y/N, and I also don’t want you worrying about him. If that means we’re forced to have a handsome escort for our date, well, I think I can live with that.”

You laugh at this before shaking your head in disbelief. You’re not sure how you managed to get so lucky after your last relationship, and you don’t think you’ll ever stop wondering. You squeeze Billie’s hand before nodding in agreement. You’re sure you will enjoy it either way, but you are glad that Billie seems sincere when she says that she doesn’t mind the third wheel.

“Okay. Thank you, Billie.”

She just smiles before kissing you soundly. You eventually pull away when your phone buzzes, but you don’t bother looking at it as you turn to Milo with a smile. Billie just rolls her eyes with an amused chuckle before pulling you back towards her.

“Get cleaned up Milo, you need to look nice for our date tomorrow.”

Part 18

#american horror story #ahs #ahs fic #ahs imagine #ahs murder house #my fic #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard x reader #billie dean howard #a little bit #WHY IS THIS STORY SO LONG #😭

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