#and I think if he's pretty awake it's subtle (just smiling and being a bit affectionate and maybe a tear or two) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hyuckmov · 2 years

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haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby read part 2 here <3

'cause he's so pretty when he goes down on me gold-skinned, eager baby

haechan x fem!reader 7.2k, smut, minors dni, a bit of fluff, basically haechan loves your boobs. not proofread i was too excited. content: chest/boobs/nipples fixation if i ever seen one, consensual somnophilia but not really because one of them is awake, a little bit of teasing and manipulating i guess, unprotected sex, masturbating with a bra (m), shower sex, titty fucking, a little mention of dumbification, dom-ish haechan turned desperate needy (and dare i say, a little bit subby...?) haechan...ngl reader doesn't get to cum a lot this is mostly about haechan a/n: thank you all for waiting i really hope this lives up to your expectations or it's at least a little hot until the call with mark, you hadn’t really noticed at all.

“dude he’s like…fucking obsessed with your boobs.” mark insists. over video-call, there’s a slight lag between his voice and his actions, but there’s no mistaking the sincerity on his face.

“are you sure?” you ask, skeptically. “he’s never mentioned it to me at all.”

mark laughs. “he said he doesn’t want to seem like a perv, so he never brings it up with you.” tilting his head to the side, “i guess that’s why he keeps telling me about it. you should do something about it for your anniversary or something.”

haechan was a careful boyfriend. you appreciated the way his hands never lingered excessively on your waist even as he was a touchy person. you appreciated how, even if you had just come out from your shower in your towel — hair dripping wet, the material barely skimming the tops of your thighs, he kept his voice as steady as possible while handing you a robe. you appreciated the effort it took for him to keep his palms planted firmly on the bed above your head even as he made love to you. even as you grabbed at him incessantly, his fingers would go white, twisting in the sheets as he held himself back.

and yet, something in you wanted to see him lose control completely.

“yeah,” you breathe out, slowly. “i should.”

happy anniversary, haechan.

you start out small. you just need to see if mark might be onto something.

“haechan, what should i wear to dinner?”

haechan had been hyping up this date night for weeks and weeks. you know he researched the restaurant extensively, reading guides and blog posts about which wine to pair with each course. and for the past 30 minutes while you got ready, he sat patiently in the living room on his phone, sitting carefully so his button down shirt and slacks didn’t wrinkle. it was one of the things you found most endearing about him — how much he wanted things to be perfect even as the two of you got close to your second year of being a couple. you just wanted things to be perfect for him too.

now, at your question, he wanders into your room, an easy smile on his face already. crossing over to where you stand in front of your mirror, he kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying from side to side.

“that looks good, baby,” he says, sincerely. “you wanna head out now?”

“wait,” you untangle yourself from him and he steps away politely. “i’ll give you another option.”

grabbing at the hem of your black turtleneck, a purposefully high collared choice, you tug it off you as quick as you could. you take a quick glance at the mirror, and sure enough haechan has averted his eyes at the prospect of seeing you topless. staring resolutely at the floor, you think you can almost see a red begin to tint his cheeks.

“tell me when you’re done,” he mumbles, and you want to tilt his head up and make him look at you in the nice lacy bra you’d picked out, but you hold back. you promised you were going to start with something more subtle.

and so you pull on a tight cropped cardigan with a low dipping neckline — one that hugs and accentuates your chest really nicely. doing up the buttons as quickly as you could, making sure it was just the right tightness, you tap him on the shoulder.

“done.”

observing him closely through the mirror, you see how his eyes jump instinctively to your chest, and then to your face, before they gravitate downwards again and settle into what is certainly a stare. almost as if he couldn’t resist.

and were you imagining things, or was he breathing a little harder than before?

“haechan?” you prompt, and you bite back a smile when you see him jolt a little out of his daze, blinking rapidly. “thoughts?”

“this one,” he blurts out. almost comically with how he can’t take his eyes off you, he darts out his tongue to wet his lips before repeating himself. “this one…it’s…you…” he swallows. “you should wear this one to dinner.”

“it’s not too tight?” frowning exaggeratedly, you adjust your bra such that your boobs shift around a little under the top, squeezing them together.

haechan hesitates. “actually…”, fuck he thinks to himself. because if you wear this to the restaurant, everyone will be able to see you. and he’ll be forced to pretend not to notice all throughout the meal. how the fuck, he thinks, as he watches you adjust your top again, am i supposed to think about wine pairings now?

“yes?” you revel in the way his eyes have glazed over entirely.

“the first top.” he nods, almost as if convincing himself. “the turtleneck’s good.”

“why?”

pause. “black looks better on you.” he slots his hands into his pockets, bouncing on his toes. “if you’re ready i’ll get the door.”

“okay, you go on first.” you think you see relief on his face as he speedwalks out the door.

twirling on the spot, thanking your lucky stars for mark’s tip-off, you swap out your black cardigan in exchange for the turtleneck, and head out to join your boyfriend at the doorway.

it was exciting — thinking of ways to test haechan, little by little. it wasn’t that he wasn’t a passionate boyfriend, or that he was too shy. he had quite the dirty mouth if the atmosphere ever called for it, and he never attempted to hide his sounds of pleasure if you felt particularly good wrapped around him. but there was no denying that some part of him was always in control.

because there was one version of haechan, who was something like this:

“haechan?”

he made a soft sound, turning to look at you from where you were seated on the other end of the couch. nights like these — with the television light illuminating your faces, haechan cozy and warm in an hoodie and sweatpants, you in one of his old shirts, with just enough of your bodies touching to give each other space and affection, — these were the nights you always felt a little more touch-starved than usual. and your boyfriend was just an arm’s length away, ready to love you in any way you ask.

“baby?”

you extend your arms out, reaching for him. “kisses please.”

smiling, he reaches out and gently pulls you into his lap. your face turned towards him, the two of you beam at each other as haechan cups your face tenderly. dipping his head down so your noses touch, he goes a little cross-eyed as he basks in the feeling of your skin against his, his gaze shining with adoration.

“okay,” he whispers, as he captures your lips in a sweet, patient, kiss. and another. and another, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the feeling, his hands never moving from the way he holds your face. afterwards, he wraps you in your arms so you can rest your head against his chest, and each time you raise your head up he kisses you indulgently.

and when, as this progresses, your hands begin to wander purposefully to the strings of his sweatpants, he swats them away softly – the tiniest bit of flush on his cheeks as his heartbeat quickens, flustered.

“just kissing, baby,” he presses his lips on your forehead to emphasise his point. “just want to be close to you.”

and then there was -

“haechan,” you whine.

his head thrown back, he at least makes the effort to focus his eyes on you. but his body doesn’t stop moving, his grip on your waist bruising as he fucks up into you with more fervor.

“yeah?” he mumbles.

“kiss me?”

his head snaps to you, and the side of his mouth quirks up. “hold that thought.”

and then he’s flipping the two of you over. still inside you, he hikes your legs up and wraps them around his waist. your arms go to his shoulders instinctively, while his move upwards to cage you in. and then he goes still.

“beg for it.” looking way too pleased with himself, he swivels his hips in slow motions, watching your face carefully to find your sweet spot, the angle that will drive you insane. he knows when he’s found it: your body shudders, your nails dig into his back and he hisses with pain.

“haechan, please…” you whine, as he starts to pull out of you, only to slam right into that one spot inside you that makes you see stars. surrendering yourself to him, you ramble on, “fuck, please, touch me, please…”

“what did you say, princess?” he buries his face in your neck, the way you squeeze around him and the obscene sounds of how wet you are beginning to get to him, as he begins to chase his own high.

his hot breath on your neck, his lips brushing against skin but never sucking, his hands hovering beside you but not touching.

control. boundaries. lines which you would like to see blurred, and crossed.

you knew he would be having a long day at work. he had told you the exact timings of his most important meetings, his lunch break, consults with clients, and then the time and duration of his less important meetings.

so nothing was a mistake when you sent him the photo of you at 3.45pm sharp, right at the last 15 minutes of his least important meeting of the day.

because you were nothing if not considerate.

haechan had been bored, sitting in his swivel chair, trying to maintain eye contact with the zoom conference but also scrolling on his phone when the investors rambled on for just a little too long.

y/n: image

thinking little of it, maybe you needed an opinion on an outfit, he glanced at his laptop one more time before unlocking his phone and opening his chat with you.

and he freezes.

because on the screen, is a photo of you. specifically, from the waist up, wearing one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned almost all the way and pushed open so he could see the very pretty, very lacy, barely-there bra you were wearing. one that was practically transparent with its mesh and lace, your nipples in stiff peaks poking out through the material. the sizing of the flimsy bra making your breasts look even fuller, even softer, than usual.

fuck.

he stares at your photo, lips slightly parted. he swallows. he swallows again. embarrassingly, his slacks begin to feel a little tight. fingers uncoordinated and slow, he types out the only response he can think of.

haechan: hi

haechan: did you send this to the wrong person?

while he waits for your response, he clicks back to the photo. he can’t help it, what if you decide to unsend it? the thought flits through his mind, and hurriedly, he goes to save it just in case it didn’t download to his phone.

y/n: babe you’re my boyfriend who else would i send this too?

haechan: oh

haechan: right

he can’t help it. the meeting gone straight from his mind, and your conversation with him slowly making less and less sense, the only thing he can think of doing is zooming in on the photo. deep down, he’s always been obsessed with your chest, but he always felt that it was a weird thing to bring up. you’ve never expressed a fixation with any particular body part of his, and he feels wrong for all the times he sneaks glances at you: be it from over your top, or when you’re midway through changing. he would never dream of asking to touch, but god he wants to. he doesn’t even know what he wants to do with your boobs other than to see, and to touch. and here you are, handing him his first opportunity to act on the former.

so he stares, and he stares. wildly he considers setting this photo as his homescreen. when the meeting ends, he slams his laptop quickly shut.

he was going to have to think of a way to pretend this didn’t affect him the way it did.

“needed you all day, baby,” he groaned. haechan had just gotten home, spent about 5 minutes upholding the facade that he could spend a quiet evening just chatting with you after the events of the day, before he’d finally had enough and tugged you into his lap to suck on your tongue. gasping, his body shivering with need, he separated from you just long enough to make out the words “need you. right now”.

indulging him, you kissed him back just as fiercely. “hold on,” you say, as you clamber up from the couch and cross over to the dining table. teasingly, you place a hand on the tabletop, leaning on it as you smile.

“bend me over?”

still slumped into his seat, haechan pokes his tongue into his cheek in thought. “why don’t you show me how you want it first?” he challenges.

diligently, you bend yourself over the edge of the table, propping yourself up on your elbows. wiggling your ass a few times in the air, and trying to ignore the fear that he’ll laugh at you, you look over at him expectantly, doing everything but batting your lashes.

haechan does laugh at you, but not in literal amusement. the dark sound of derision he lets out shoots straight to your core, as he gets up almost lazily, strolling over to you.

“baby wants it from the back?”

standing behind you, he runs his fingertips down your spine, stroking your back. it would almost be a tender action if not for the fact that he takes his hand away only to place it between your spread legs.

sliding your pants together with your panties down your legs, he continues to kiss your shoulders as he begins running his fingers up and down your slit, eliciting a whine from you.

“haechan…please don’t tease,” you plead, as he places a gentle pressure at your clit. “need you so bad too.”

“shhh…” he coos, continuing to make soft clicking noises as he circles his digits around your entrance. “i’ll take care of you. just need to stretch you out first, okay?”

slowly, he scissors his fingers inside of you, pushing them against your walls. wet sounds fill the still air in the kitchen, mixed with your whispers and his continued efforts to comfort you the best he knew how. losing yourself in pleasure, the ache in your belly begins to build, your legs shaking as your hips begin to buck against him subconsciously.

“getting excited?” he teases, removing his hands from your core. you whine, a high and embarrassing sound, but you can’t bring yourself to care beyond the disappointment at how empty it feels without his warmth.

“wait for me, princess.” you hear the sound of haechan fumbling with his belt, the clink of it hitting the floor. and then, you feel something thick and heavy press between your legs, stroking up and down your soaked slit. “first time trying this for me too,” he mumbles, and in the cloudy haze of your mind you register that this truly was the first time haechan was fucking you from the back.

pulling your hips towards him with a slight roughness, he eases into you. the stretch is delicious, the new angle seemingly allowing him to go deeper, and he lets out a low groan at how your walls seem to suck him in. he thrusts a few times experimentally, making you gasp. which in turn makes him still.

‘everything okay, baby?”

“yes,” you breathe. when he still doesn’t move, you wiggle your hips again, trying to squeeze around him. “please, please haechan i need you to move-”

“i got you.” rolling his hips with a slow and steady pace, haechan holds your sides gently. but something about it feels off to even you: there’s something not quite right with the way he’s almost quiet, the desperation that started out this entire night seemingly evaporated.

haechan continues for only a minute more before he pulls out.

“i’m sorry, but fuck this,” he all but spits. grabbing your hips roughly, which makes you yelp in surprise, he flips you over and pushes you further up the tabletop. you look up at him — his hair mussed up, his chest heaving, a new aggression to him as he pushes your shirt up to expose your chest.

bingo.

hiking your legs up so they hook around his waist, he rams back into you. your back arches with how full you feel, the blunt head of his cock dragging against your walls as he fucks into you. hard. unable to control himself, his mouth practically hangs open as he pants, moans spilling from his mouth easily.

“need,-” he starts, before quickening his pace even further. “needed to see,-” a hand drops one of your legs, and moves to your back to unclasp your bra. shoving it up so it no longer covers your breasts, a high whine tears from the back of his throat as he sees how each thrust makes your breasts bounce.

something clicks in your head. some mixture of the adrenaline, and how sexy haechan always made you feel judging by how desperate he could get around you, boosted your confidence tenfold.

bringing your hands to your chest, you cup your breasts with your palms and give them a firm squeeze. the lewdness of it coupled with the stimulation making you arch your back, pushing you into him.

and haechan cums.

later, with his arms draped around you sleepily, you shift a little in his hold so he opens his eyes to look at you. “about just now…” haechan nods, letting you know you can continue. “so you don’t like it when you can’t see me?” you whisper, not wanting to break the silence and the tenderness that always filled the room on late nights like these.

he hesitates. “i love everything i do with you” he says, quietly and sincerely. a hand comes up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “you know you’re already perfect to me, right?”

the comment makes you warm up inside. love was so easy for haechan, and he never failed to remind you of how much he loved you all the time.

“i know.” you snuggle closer to him. “but i just want to know when it feels just as good for you as it feels for me.”

he hums in agreement. “maybe…” he bites his lip as he picks out the words in his head. “i think i just like to face you as we’re doing it. i like it when you…” suddenly shy, he nuzzles his face into the pillow a little so the rest of his sentence comes out muffled. “when you ride me, or when i’m on top of you.”

deciding to tease him a little, you add, “and the thing i did with my boobs…?”

nervously, he blinks at you. “what?”

“haechan, you came when i started playing with my chest.”

“i j-just liked seeing you make yourself feel good,” he sits up, flustered. “i don’t-that’s not why i…”

“okay, okay.” you get up too, leaning against the headboard. reaching out to pat him on the cheek, you feel warmth on your fingertips and decide not to push things further.

“i just want you to know that if you wanted to try anything, you can just bring it up.”

“i don’t want…i don’t want to try anything…” he mumbles. in the moonlight, you can see how he’s turned away from you, staring at the clock on your bedside table.

and suddenly, you know exactly what you want to do.

“or you can try it when i’m asleep.”

confusedly, he turns around and blinks at you. “what?”

“i trust you. i give you full permission to touch me in my sleep. whatever you want.”

he gapes at you, speechless. you wonder if he’s going to protest again, you wonder if you pushed things too far.

but something in your proposition must have stirred something in him, because eventually, he settles on asking…

“are you sure?”

you reach over and take his hand to soothe him. “i’m sure.”

“has haechan mentioned anything?”

you’re videocalling mark again. it had been a full week since you invited haechan to basically do whatever he wanted to you — a full week of staying up late and feeling him slide into bed behind you, waiting for what felt like hours. the most he did was maybe pull you towards him to cuddle, but he always did that.

but it was also a myriad of little things you began to notice in that week. the way he would kiss you a little harder on days you walked around the house without a bra on. how he liked to hug you with his arms pressed against your upper back, pushing you into him.

and the little things you began to do instead: wearing lower cut tops around the house, bending over so he could catch an eyeful of your cleavage. but every night, your boyfriend still lay still behind you, and you were beginning to think you had truly pushed things too far.

marks hums in thought. “not really.” he pauses. “actually, he doesn’t even talk about your boobs anymore.”

“he doesn’t?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“nope.” mark sighs in relief. “i didn’t think the day would ever come. did you finally let him act on it or something?”

“not really,” you grumble.

“maybe he’s just marvelling at the freedom he has on which to love on your boobs now,” mark assures you. “i’m sure he’ll figure out what to do soon.” a pause. “sorry, is it just me or is it absurd that i’m comforting you about the fact that surely haechan will be obsessed with your boobs again?”

“it’s a little absurd,” you concede. “am i setting feminism back by 100 years with my attempts to seduce him?”

“a little bit,” he nods, leaning back in his desk chair. “maybe just 50 years, though.”

you’re in bed, listening to the sounds of haechan busying himself putting away cutlery in the kitchen drawers. the sound of the tap running when he brushes his teeth and washes his face, the light sounds of his bottles of moisturizer and cream being capped and put away. the low hum of his voice, raspy but sweet as honey, as he mumbles a tune to himself. the click of the light switch as the room is bathed in moonlight.

your eyes firmly closed, you feel yourself begin to doze off — if he hadn’t made a move, he wasn’t likely going to all of a sudden, right? vaguely, you hear him pad over to the bed in his slippers.

and then he stops.

unlike all the other nights before, he doesn’t get in immediately. even with your eyes closed, you can feel him standing there, breathing, taking in the look of you in the moonlight.

“baby?” haechan calls, softly.

you stay silent.

“are you still awake?”

he reaches out a hand, and shakes you gently. you make your body go as limp as possible, keeping your breathing steady.

“y/n?” he tries again. still nothing.

after another pause, the bed dips as his weight settles in behind you. minutes pass, before you feel his hands come to your waist. they remain there for a while, and you can almost imagine him in the dark — pupils blown out, biting his lip. just wondering. after what feels like years, the sheets rustle as his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you into his chest.

slowly, incrementally, you feel his hands begin to slide under your shirt. his fingertips are cool against your hot skin, fluttering with a slight nervousness, and you know it’s because he’s afraid to wake you with heavier touches. higher and higher up, his palms snake their way past your stomach, until they reach the underside of your breasts.

another pause.

and then, his hands slide up, the drag of it heavier this time, until he has a boob held carefully in each palm.

you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat thundering in your chest. there’s something about all of this occurring in the dark, and in complete silence, which makes you hyper-attuned to him: the slight twitch of his fingers from his nervousness, his erratic breathing on the back of your neck.

you feel him tense his fingers a few times, if anything, getting a feel of the soft flesh. and then, he carefully tightens his hold, squeezing each breast cupped in his palm — lightly, almost guiltily at first. as if he can’t believe he’s really doing this. you can hardly believe he’s really doing this.

“fuck”, you hear him breathe. he squeezes harder.

his movements gentle, and barely noticeable with how slow they are, he begins to roll each

breast in his palm. “so soft…” he breathes, and bounces them experimentally, feeling them move under his touch.

trailing his fingers inwards, he touches your nipples lightly, before rolling them between index finger and thumb, letting out a groan when he finds them grow stiff and hard. feeling around your areolae, he pinches at the skin.

when he shifts behind you, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your lower back.

his soft mutters and swears make you want to flip over and force his head into your chest, where you know he’ll only do better with his lips and teeth and tongue. but something about his warm palms, his fingers pushing and kneading and rolling, swiping in your cleavage, are so calming and loving that it starts to lull you to sleep.

the last thing you register is his one of his hands leaving your chest, and the wet sounds of haechan fucking into his fist.

haechan thinks he’s lost his mind.

he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flickering his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggling up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction.

he can’t remember the last time he had fallen asleep without reaching over to touch your breasts, and thumb at your nipples. his mind keeps trailing back to thoughts of going further, of kissing your chest, of sucking on your pretty tits and watching your nipples stiffen and harden because of him.

and he thinks he’s beyond help when he finds himself standing over your open drawer, feeling himself grow hard as he bends down to run his fingers over your collection of bras, brassiere, and lingerie.

because admittedly, ever since mark tipped you off, you had been stocking up on the pretty fabrics, testing out padded and non-padded ones, choosing colors you know haechan liked to see you in, materials like mesh and lace and cotton.

his fingers rub against a soft, satin-y material, and he pulls it out. it’s light blue and flimsy, opening in the front, and from the way he’s memorized you through touch alone he knows it will barely cover your chest. it was a piece that would tease him more than anything, and he imagines the satin rubbing against his face, you pushing your chest into him as he unclasps it, watching the fabric fall away from your pretty breasts as you expose yourself to him.

he can’t help himself, as he falls backwards onto the bed, scrambling so he can sit against the headboard. tugging his pants down with a movement that is too practiced, feeling his hard cock slap up against his stomach. too hurried to get any lube or lotion, scared you’ll come back from grocery shopping to find him like this, he spits into his hand and immediately starts fisting his length, the other still clinging onto your bra. he lets out a sigh of relief, his pants slowing down as he strokes himself.

spreading the satin out on the bed, he lets his eyes fall to it as his hand speeds up. he wonders how he can request for you to wear it, and send him a picture. maybe he could put it at the very top of your pile of underwear, so you would see it. the color of it would look so pretty against your skin, would look so pretty in your mouth, would look so pretty if he…

and then he’s grabbing the material, still soft and silky to touch, and now he’s stroking his cock with it, and the feeling makes him gasp, his hips fucking up into his fist, legs planted on the bed so he can thrust his hips up harder. the light blue, delicate material, looks obscene against the pink of his cock.

he teases a finger over his slit and he whines, higher than he had ever heard himself. his chest heaving, he imagines you finding him, sitting on the bed, fucking himself into your bra, practically cumming at the thought of nuzzling his face into your boobs. he thinks of what you would say.

or maybe you would get on top of him like you do, splitting yourself open on his cock as your tits bounce with each of your movements.

he finishes to the thought of that, cumming straight into the material of your bra. the shame doesn’t hit him until after, when he’s trying to wash the stains out of it, a bright red that starts in his stomach and burns through his neck, cheeks, and ears. he’s silent all through dinner, faces away from you at night.

but he can’t deny the thought that he wanted to do it again. and maybe all the other things he fantasized about. but how would he ever be able to tell you now?

the morning of your anniversary was when you decided this had to stop. all the teasing had begun to backfire, because having haechan’s hands on you every night — especially on the nights you had trouble sleeping, were making you need him badly. and he didn’t have a clue.

haechan had woken up, kissed you on the cheek and wished you a happy anniversary, before heading to the kitchen. sitting on the edge of your bed, you thought hard about what exactly you should tell him — whether you should bring up the fact that mark was the reason all of this even happened, if you should tell him you had been teasing him, or that you had been awake on all those nights.

suddenly, it seemed to add up to quite a lot of manipulation and lying. you felt a bit nervous.

walking to the kitchen, you enter just in time to see him finish preparing the ingredients for the romantic breakfast he had planned. sweeping them into bowls lined up neatly on the countertop, he turns and smiles at the sight of you, standing there timidly in the entryway.

“what’s wrong, love?” he comes over to you, draping his arms over your hips. “is everything okay?”

swaying slightly, you look into his eyes, so full of love, and know that you can’t keep anything from him. and also that you weren’t brave enough to do it right then and there. “haechan?”

“mmhm?”

you hesitate. “i’m… i’m going to take a shower.”

laughing slightly, he tilts his head to the side. “o…kay?”

“do you want to join me?” you say in a breath.

you watch as the words hit him. slowly, he blinks at you, before he swallows, his throat bobbing. “really? that won’t make you uncomfortable?”

“yes,” you breathe. “i want to.”

it takes a few more assurances from you before haechan agrees, holding on to your hand as the two of you step into the bathroom. he waits for you to undress first, looking away politely as you get in the shower, before he undresses and steps in after you. as the hot water cascades over you, the steam beginning to make the air heavy, he kisses your shoulder gently before turning you around so your back is facing him.

“i’ll wash your back for you,” he says, kindly. you hear him uncap the shower gel, and slowly start to scrub at your back lightly with the loofah. sometime between turning around and him washing your back, he’s turned off the water, and there aren’t any sounds except for foam and soap moving against skin.

“haechan?”

“yes?”

you turn around. haechan lifts the loofah away from your skin and looks at you, curiously.

“what’s wrong?”

“wash my front for me.”

he bites his lip, before nodding.

“okay.”

he starts at your shoulders, down to your collarbones, working small circles into your skin. when he reaches the top of your chest, where the swell of your breasts begins, he hesitates again, lifting the loofah from your skin so his hand hovers between the two of you. you decide that now was a good a time as ever.

“haechan…” you reach out and take his hand. and he looks so nervous, his breaths coming in quicker, his eyes darting between yours and your interlocked hands, that it makes you want to delay for just a little bit longer.

“haechan, you do know that it feels good when you touch my chest, don’t you?”

“what?” he stares at you. he seemed like he was hardly breathing.

“i may have been awake a few of the nights in these past two weeks,” you say, slowly, before looking him in the face again. “you left me feeling really needy, you know that?”

“sorry,” he apologises reflexively, before stopping as the words register in his head. “so, it…doesn’t make you…uncomfortable?”

“no.”

slowly, he nods, and then he adds, “you’re not weirded out?”

“no,” you shake your head patiently. “it’s the opposite of all that. i love it when you touch me there.”

“yeah?” he breathes, and you watch as his eyes darken just slightly, his chest falling and rising at a slightly quicker rate. and then he’s dropping the loofah, his hands going to your waist as he kisses you, hard. backing you up against the shower wall, he continues to kiss you feverishly as his hands go to the slope of your shoulders, trailing down your front until they cup your breasts, the movement so practiced and fluid that you don’t have the time to catch your breath.

“always,” he gasps, “wanted to do this,” he moans into your mouth as he plays with your nipples, stroking them, his hands still slippery with soap.

his movements jerky and disjointed, he turns the water back on so that it runs over the two of you, dousing your chest with warm water so that it’s slippery to touch, and if possible they feel even squishier and softer in his hold. groaning, he pushes his head into your neck as he squeezes them in his firm grip.

“haechan,” you whine, his hands on you, and the desperation in his rough actions making you need him even more.

he doesn’t bother to respond, shoving his knee between your legs to knock them apart and letting you grind on his thigh. its the way the movement is meant to placate you, as if he was too busy with your breasts to even pay attention to you, that makes it even more satisfying to grind down on him.

“can i,” he gasps, breaking away from you. somehow already fucked out even though all he’s done is touch you, he pleads with you with his eyes. unable to catch his breath, he stutters out, “c-can i please, please, suck them?”

you curse, but he seems to take it negatively. gulping, he begins to move away from you, his hands trembling, but your desperation overtakes you.

grabbing his head by his hair, you pull his face towards your chest. and now it’s your turn to beg.

“please,” you rasp, and that’s all you have to say because immediately his lips latch onto your right nipple, a whine sounding from him high and drawn out. swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, his other hand goes to your neglected breast, rolling the other nipple with his thumb and forefinger. all the while, his hips grind mindlessly, his hard cock rubbing against your upper thigh, spilling precum all over your skin that’s washed away just as quickly.

haechan is in seventh heaven. he thinks he could spend forever like this, suckling on your tits, fucking into your thighs, listening to your pretty gasps and sighs. all the embarrassment from before has melted away, and all that’s left is his desire to touch and to taste, knowing that it brought you as much pleasure as it did for him.

“eager baby,” you coo affectionately, trying to keep your voice level. with a feeling of elation, watching him grind against your skin and suckle at you as if he was a baby, you realise that you’ve done it: he’s lost all semblance of control. “do you think you could cum like this?”

haechan moans, and the sound is beautifully crude as it echoes against the bathroom tiles. open-mouthed and panting, he whines again as he switches to another breast, both hands leaving your chest in favor of tugging at his neglected cock.

and suddenly, you know just what he needs.

“stop,” you tell him, but it’s not convincing enough — the sight of him, and stimulation from your chest, affecting you way too much. he ignores you, continuing to slobber over you, licking at the crevice between your boobs.

“stop,” you insist, pushing him away this time. even as he breaks apart from you, his movements halting, his eyes are still trained on your breasts, watching the streams of water slide down them, dripping off of you, as if in a trance.

reaching behind him to turn off the water, you open the shower door. haechan blinks a few times, the dissipating steam slowly clearing the air of the tension, and clearing the fog in his head too.

“y/n,” he swallows. “i need you, please-”

“you’ll have me,” you assure him, grabbing a towel as you lead him out of the en-suite bathroom, and over to your bed. “i just know you’ll really like this, so trust me, okay?”

“okay,” he breathes, coming to stand between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed.

“and-” you point at him. “you need to calm down, okay?”

looking wounded, haechan practically whimpers, reaching for your chest.

“it’s not that i don’t like you eager,” you say, hurriedly. “i just want you to enjoy this for longer, okay?”

he nods.

a smile tugs at your lips. is this how he usually felt like? watching you dumb and desperate for him?

“words,” you tease.

“okay,” he says softly. “i’ll try.”

“good job, baby,” you reach up to pat him on the cheek, before turning to grab a bottle of lotion that always stood on your bedside table. lying on your back, you motion for him to come over to you. he hovers obediently, sitting on his heels.

uncapping the lotion, you take one of his hands and squeeze out a generous amount onto his palm.

“spread it out over my chest,” you tell him, patiently. his lips part, and he’s about to surge towards you, so you place a hand on his arm. “slowly.”

he swallows. he takes a breath. and then he’s spreading the lotion onto his palms, and as he promised, he slowly places them on your chest and begins to apply it onto your skin. his eyes glaze over as he swipes them under your boobs, rubbing into your cleavage, smearing it in circular motions closer to your nipples. even though you enjoy his touch, and you know he’s enjoying himself too, you motion for him to stop.

slowly, carefully, you place both hands on the sides of your boobs. haechan’s eyes widen almost comically, and you look at him sternly, reminding him to keep it together. you squeeze them together, creating a tight passage between them where your cleavage is.

“okay,” you breathe. “now fuck them.”

haechan’s eyes, which have been fixating on your chest the whole time, flicker up to yours in confusion.

“baby,” you try again, “here. in between my boobs.”

haechan had never seemed to hear of the concept. finding the words, he splutters out, “what? how? do i really-” he stares at you, again, before the arousal seems to wind him over and he shuffles up to straddle your stomach. you see his thighs trembling as his large hands cover yours, squeezing your breasts together with more force. the blunt head of his cock makes contact your boobs, and he whimpers, before slotting it in the valley of your breasts, and thrusting forwards.

you remove your hands, seeming to give him total control, when really he’s lost it all completely.

his mouth hangs open as he lets out moan after moan, thrusting harder and harder into the tight passage. “fuck,” he gasps, going to stroke your nipples as he raises himself slightly, the need to fuck your tits harder and faster driving his hips forward and making him almost lose balance. strings of curses and nonsensical rambles fall from his puffy lips as he chases his high, wanting to enjoy it for longer but also wanting to cum.

the sight of him, flushed and panting, holding onto your chest as if for dear life, is enough to satiate you for a little while, but soon the wetness between your thighs and throbbing of your clit feels too much to handle on your own.

“baby,” you breathe, “do you want to-”

but at the petname, haechan lets out one high whine, and cums — all over your chest, up to your neck and chin and some even dribbling onto your face. all the while, he continues to fuck into your chest, until the stimulation is too much for him and he falls back on his heels, needing to get away.

there’s a pause.

his heaves and pants filling the room, he sits on the bed resting on his elbows. you’re a little winded too, but you don’t know what from. it takes him a while to calm down, even after you clean yourself up and pull him towards you to cuddle, him laying a hand on your boob the entire time.

finally, his head seems to clear and he comes back to himself. looking at you carefully, he furrows his brow.

“so that day with the turtleneck…”

“yeah,” you say, feeling a little shy. you can’t believe he remembered something so far back.

“and the photo of you in the bra…”

“i thought you’d like it,” you offer, and he laughs at that. before he pauses, and really looks at you.

“and you haven’t cum at all today, haven’t you sweetheart?”

“not yet,” you breathe.

happy fucking anniversary.

taglist: @matchahyuck , @kpopwh0r3 read part 2 here <3

#haechan smut #haechan scenario #fic: gold-skinned eager baby #nct smut #nct scenario #haechan imagine #haechan au

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 5 months

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Brand New One Shot - First Preview

It’s time for a new one shot! I promise I will finish “Dress Up” in the very near future but I wanted to get a jumpstart on this! No active warnings for this preview, but there is a very very subtle hint to something naughty if you squint lol

You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, he was kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!

Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?

When you had first spoken to him all those month ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meet, and ever since then it was nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.

You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”

You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.

A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. It was late, way later than you should be awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most night, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Laying awake in your bed wasn’t helping these thoughts, but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.

You glanced over to the fire place, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fire place, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.

“What the hell am I going to do…”

Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”

Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.

“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”

You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.

“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”

“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”

Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”

The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.

“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly, but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”

“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.

You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #my writing #preview #oh where could this be leading :)#if you know the prompt this was based on you know exactly where it’s leading haha

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hotchfiles · 7 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ too busy being yours ❞ ─ a we could be love blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!rossi!reader. summary: you're pretty much in love with your boss. and he's pretty into you too. but if being your boss wasn't bad enough, he's also your dad's best friend. content warnings: valentine's fluff! no romance involved tho. just friends being friends and sleeping into each other's embrace. as friends do. might not be totally inclusive to full italian girls (?). two idiots in love making rossi seem worse than he is. word count: 2k+. a/n: the bau!rossi!verse begins. i never proof read anything.

Being single during Valentine's Day was already bad, hearing your own father's romantic plans for the evening only made it worse. The humiliating truth of not having the same game as David Rossi was daunting, but you didn't have the Italian vibes to use in your favor like he did, and you were pathetically in love with your boss and that made every single man look awful in comparison.

"What about you Baby Rossi, any saucy plans for tonight?" Your eyes shoot daggers at Derek for making the question, bringing everyone's attention to your warm cheeks.

"Apparently I have to look for a ride home, saucy enough?" Your father shrugs with an apologetic glance at your answer, he usually took you home but wouldn't have the time to today. That's what you get for carpooling.

Between dates and the bar, you were getting out of options and was about to accept your fate: You would have to take the subway. You weren't sure how Spencer did it so often, specially with his particularity with germs and people, you absolutely hated it, it was too tiring, too loud.

You run up the stairs to get to Hotch's office, handing him your reports, slightly out of breath.

"You were quick with these." It's a praise with a hidden quip: You were always the last one to hand yours, not only a natural procrastinator, but you were the last one to join the unit, you still struggled with some of the bureaucracy.

"Trying to avoid rush hour, taking the subway today."

"I can take you home–" He seems surprised by his own response, or by how quick he offered that ride. Your address is somewhere on your files but he doesn't truly know where you live. He couldn't even shrug it off saying it was on his way home.

"Don't you have a date? I mean–Wouldn't this make you late for anything?" You hope dearly that you didn't make it obvious that you just wanted to know if he was seeing someone. It's obviously too much to hope for, he knows.

And he smiles sweetly, softly. He tries his best to keep it innocent. "No plans today, just me, my bed... And some popcorn i think."

You chew on the inside of your cheeks softly thinking about your next move. Hotchner had slipped through conversation earlier that Jack had a sleepover planned, so by that logic, he would be alone, just like you.

He wasn’t exactly subtle about his interest in you, but he somewhat tried to conceal it, asking him out on a date seemed too pushy.

“Those are exactly my plans… You could maybe stay over for a bit, then? Maybe?” Your eyes glow with the expectation as you ask him, fingers busy with your necklace to soothe yourself. “We might have to pick Garcia up at some point of the night, though, if that’s okay.” You were always tasked with drunk Penelope anytime you bailed on them as a punishment.

You didn’t mind, drunk Garcia was fun Garcia, but if Aaron accepted your invitation, you hoped there wouldn’t be any interruptions.

Movies and popcorn are innocent enough, that’s the first thing on his mind, it can be innocent, and even when he tries to talk himself down of what could lead to very bad bad choices, your mention of Garcia tips him over the edge. It was just friends hanging out. Definitely.

“Yeah… I mean, yeah sure, that sounds fun. I have to keep myself awake until later than usual in case Jack calls me anyway.” You nod more to yourself and offer him a shy smile, just before he hands you more papers. “Oh yeah–You’ve got yourself a few more work hours, though.”

The ride to your place is anything but silent. Your phone keeps buzzing, signaling the BAU gals group chat wants details of what’s happening but you and Aaron barely notice it as conversation flows easily between you two.

You ask him about Jack’s sleepover and the sleeping later ordeal and he tells you how on his first sleepover Jack gave up and called him to pick him up at almost 1am. “When the fun was over he just wanted his bed. Driving the moment I woke was a terrible experience.”

That was years ago and he still waits for that clock to hit 1AM before sleeping. Just in case his baby needs him.

You can feel your insides turn into mush, the way he cares always from the smallest to the biggest ways reminding you of why falling for him was so desperately easy. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, Aaron.”

The informality catches him off guard, but he welcomes it, loving the way his name sounds leaving your lips. “He’s a sweet kid, much more cooperative than drunk Garcia, I can assure you.”

You laugh at his joke and it’s silent for mere seconds before he finally asks the question, the one question on his mind since you walked into his office earlier. Why? Why don’t you have a date? Why aren’t you at the bar? How can you even be single?

“I don’t have a lot of free time, Aaron. I’m… Busy.” You both know that’s not a lie. But you could try to make time if you were interested, you could’ve gone out today. Unfortunately, when you found yourself having feelings for someone, you couldn’t bring yourself to look for someone else. All the other men seemed so incredibly dull compared to the one taking you home, and you couldn’t but compare when you were with any other.

“You had free time tonight.” He’s pushing it and he knows it. He shouldn’t be asking so many questions about your dating life, he shouldn’t pry when he knew himself well enough to be certain he wouldn’t make any moves on you. Younger, beautiful, funny, smart… And the daughter of his closest friend. All the reasons he was so smitten were also the reasons he told himself he shouldn’t lead you on.

You deserved someone your age, with no baggage, or at least one lighter than his. Someone with more time to spare, who could take your mind out of the job and not keep you on it. And definitely someone who didn’t go to jazz clubs with your father.

Still, his hands are firm on the wheel, turning left to get to your home.

“I’m not wasting my free time on guys I meet at bars on Valentine’s Day.” He smirks, finding a good spot to park his car without saying anything else. He’s delighted by your answers even though it isn’t fair.

He gets ready to leave the car but you stop him, tapping his thigh lightly (it sends shivers up his spine but he’s getting good at pretending not to feel it). “Better get your go bag.” You see confusion on his eyes and that known furrowed brow directed at you. “You’re not gonna be comfortable in a suit. You can change to your spare.”

He hadn’t thought about that, it would definitely defy the purpose of a quiet relaxing movie night if he was all dressed up in his well known work attire. So he does as instructed and gets his go bag from the backseat, even though he’s getting more and more anxious by the second. The innocent friends movie night he made himself believe looking more and more like he was sleeping over.

You give him the tour of your apartment–a gift from your dad when you graduated from the academy, not that anyone really needed to know how spoiled you were–and show him the bathroom where he could change. Or shower. He has his go bag after all.

You go to your room to do just that, trying not to let the thoughts of him possibly being naked and under your shower flood your mind as you take the quickest shower you’ve ever taken in your life.

As you move from your own bathroom to your closet to get your pajamas you’re suddenly very aware of what’s really happening. You really did invite him to your apartment. This was a date. But it couldn’t be a date, did he see it as a date? Being so very infatuated by him and knowing well he had some sort of interest in you was very very different than acting on it. Your dad would kill you if he knew. And Aaron. And you again, possibly, if he knew it was your doing to initiate it.

Instead of your usual thin fabric short shorts and tank top you wear to sleep, you decide to be decent, black silk loose pants, old university t-shirt, cotton robe, socks and fluffy slippers. Anything that could maybe show you are totally just thinking about watching some fun movies with a friend.

You take two blankets and two pillows with you as you leave your bedroom, the sound of the shower being turned off making your feet almost run to get everything ready. The couch turning into a bed with a bit of struggle to unfold it. You made sure each blanket and pillow were on each side of it, as far as possible from each other.

Popcorn! You need to make popcorn, that’s the first thing you think when you hear the door unlocking, going straight for the kitchen and putting a bag on your microwave. As it popped you got cheese strings and butter out of your fridge. If you couldn’t blow his mind in better ways, you could at least get him hooked to your special cheesy buttered popcorn.

“I’m making myself way too comfortable, I think.” His voice is smooth and relaxed and when you look back he’s leaning into the frame, his hair is wet and he’s wearing matching black sweatpants and a hoodie you’ve never seen him wear.

For a moment you just want to kiss him and forget about any debate morality could bring to ruin it, but instead you laugh and take the popcorn out of the microwave and drop its content into a bowl, spreading some butter on top and dropping a few strings of cheese on it before putting the bowl on the microwave.

“Casa mia è casa tua.” Your Italian is a bit rusty but it still works as a charmer, “Go pick us the most terrible looking romcom you can find while I finish this.”

“Romcom, huh?” He asks and you can just hear the teasing in his tone.

“You didn’t think we were going for some documentary, right?” You use a spoon to mix the popcorn to the melted butter and cheese when it’s out of the microwave, and follow him to the living room, “We’re gonna eat this cheesy, buttered, absolutely heart-swelling popcorn and make fun of some terrible, terrible movie love tropes.”

You do just that, and it’s awkward at first, the both of you wanting to be closer but also not feeling like you should cross that barrier, but as the night went on, the more you shared that popcorn, the more laughs you shared, the closer you got on that couch, specially after he tried to rub his greased fingers on your face, making you do the same to him.

One movie becomes two, and then three, and somewhere in between him telling you about the dates he would take Haley as a teen, making you laugh at how sweet and romantic he always was, and you telling him about your first kiss and how terrible it was, you both fall asleep. Your head on his chest, his arms around you.

Jack doesn’t call, and if Emily tried to get you to pick up Garcia you definitely didn’t see it.

It’s the first time you both share such an intimate moment, and it is just that. Sleeping in each other’s arms. Aaron even wakes up in the middle of the night, 3AM striking on the clock on your wall. He wasn’t even able to freak out and overthink anything about it, the comfort of your smell making him hug you tighter and close his eyes again.

He could deal with it in the morning.

#lari writes sometimes #this took so long that i kinda hate it now #happy valentines day !#aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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taevbears · 9 months

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To Be Loved - 04

There may be something there that wasn't there before.

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader (a bit of reader x ot7) ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.7k ⤑ warnings: the boys are still kinda mean and very guarded around the reader, slow burn, very brief mentions of toxic relationships and bullying, mentions of physical abuse, implied violence, Epik High name drop lol, cliffhanger ending ⤑ note: first post of 2024! hope you guys had a great start to the new year. this story is just about wrapping up now, but i'm also ready to move onto new projects that i want to release this year. hope you guys enjoy, and comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated! :)

Chapters 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

When it rains, your life is at a standstill. Time moves so slowly, so seamlessly, the days start to blur together. The grey skies, the endless rain, the muddy roads, and the thick fog that surrounds the gloomy forest. They are a constant that you can’t escape from.

The old manor, tucked away in the deep forest – far from any traveling paths and roads – appears to be stuck in time. And you feel like you’re stuck with it.

How long has it been since you arrived at the manor? A few days? A week? Two weeks?

With a sigh, you look away from the water gently knocking against your window and muster the courage to get out of bed. Cold air strikes you once you’ve come out of your blanket cocoon, and you try not to shudder as you walk barefoot around your bedroom.

By now, you’ve memorized what parts of the floor creak loudly, and you’re careful to avoid those areas, only crossing them slowly and quietly if necessary. Still, even if you’ve successfully finished your morning routine without a sound, he waits by your door.

“Little human, are you sure you’re not afraid of us?”

You catch your breath, but only for a second. Every morning, the bear hybrid waits in front of your bedroom as you’re waking up with a grumpy but determined look on his face. As if he absolutely refuses to go to bed until you answer his question.

“Good morning,” you start, blinking at him as you calm yourself down. He arches an eyebrow at you. “No, I’m not afraid of you.”

Taehyung holds your gaze, reading your face, looking for any subtle tell that you’re not being honest with him. You steel yourself as best as you can under the intensity of his stare, focusing on one of the moles on his pretty face.

Then, when satisfied, he nods his head. His mouth forms into a straight line, making his cheeks rise a bit in what you think might be a smile. Then, he saunters off down the hallway without another word.

You release the breath you’ve been holding.

The first time Taehyung did this was the morning after Namjoon showed you his private garden in the greenhouse. He scared the shit out of you, leaning against the doorframe as soon as you opened the door, just like when you had first met him. And he seemed to doubt you when you had stuttered out that you, in fact, don’t find him to be terrifying.

“I should get used to this,” you mumble to yourself, closing the door behind you.

Breakfast seems to depend on who is awake to make it. Sometimes, Seokjin is up in the early morning and has already started cooking by the time you and the other hybrids come down the stairs. Sometimes, Yoongi already has it prepared before his nocturnal instincts kick in and makes him want to sleep all day. Sometimes, it’s Hoseok and Jimin in the kitchen together, but one of them dances and entertains the other, riling up contagious giggles and distractions from the task at hand.

“Can I help with anything?” you offer when you see the two together.

Hoseok visibly flinches when he hears your voice, still a bit nervous when you’re around. But at least he doesn’t avoid you anymore. It’s as if he’s accepted that you’re inevitably stuck with each other. At least, until the storm passes.

“No, no, you’re a guest,” Jimin reminds you, flapping his black wing to shoo you away. “Just pull up a chair and relax. We’ll have this ready shortly.”

With that said, the two turn back to their tasks. Jimin tends to the fish he’s frying over a pan and Hoseok diligently cuts some vegetables. No resumed laughter or conversations while you awkwardly linger with uncertainty.

You know they mean well. You know that Namjoon had talked to them about treating you nicely while you’re staying with them. But you’re starting to feel like a burden. Restless. Useless. They don’t let you lift a finger with any of the house chores, even if you want to help out to show your consideration and appreciation.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind,” you try again.

Jimin’s shoulders tense a bit. You think he’s starting to get irritated. He doesn’t look at you as he repeats, “It’s fine. You’re a guest.”

It’s not until after you leave the kitchen when you hear their voices chatting again.

If anyone were to look for you, they’d find you in the old manor’s library.

There, they’d see you uncovering the written secrets and adventures within its vast collections of stories. You spend most of your day there, wrestling with a blanket as you switch from one comfortable position to another on the large sofa, so engulfed with your book that you don’t pay attention to anything else.

Not the way that time fleetingly drifts from morning to the late afternoon.

Not the way the sound of rain and the rumble of thunder begin to lull you to sleep.

Not the pair of glowing eyes that catches you napping mid-story, blanket slipping off you and onto the floor.

The next thing you know, you wake up to find that the book you’ve been reading has been placed on the table, the corner of the page turned to hold your place. The blanket that was partially covering you is now completely pulled over you, snuggly tucking you in beneath its warmth.

Someone was taking care of you while you were asleep. But as you look around, you see no one else in the room.

Sometimes, Jungkook drags you out of the library and brings you into the gaming room instead. There are a variety of board games, puzzles, and video games to play together, and all of them are addictively fun. No doubt, this is easily one of Jungkook’s favorite parts of the manor.

It also happens to be Seokjin’s favorite spot as well.

You see the wolf hybrid sitting straight on the couch, face stoic as he mutters under his breath, thick eyebrows drawn together in concentration as his fingers rapidly fidgets with the buttons and joysticks of the controller. His pointy ears twitch slightly when he hears you and Jungkook come in, but he doesn’t look away from the screen, too focused on what his character is doing.

Jungkook pulls out a puzzle for you two to do together, dumping all the tiny pieces onto the table. The two of you work in relative silence to put it together, but a question keeps lingering in your mind.

“Hey Jungkook, have you been tucking me in when I nap?”

From your peripheral vision, Seokjin’s ear swivels toward you. The movement of his hands still as a red flush starts to color the back of his neck.

“No,” he replies, a bit surprised. “Why?”

You frown a little. If not Jungkook, then who?

“No reason.”

On the rare occasion you’re not in the library or with Jungkook, you find yourself wanting to stretch out your legs and wander around the old manor.

There’s a timeless charm about it all. You imagine the previous owners lived like kings and queens here, throwing extravagant and lavish parties and banquets. An orchestra of music lively plays from the grand ballroom, and an incredible feast is on display with the finest plates and utensils. You imagine the guests dressed in their best suits and ball gowns, a variety of rich colors filling into the manor to dance the night away.

As you explore bits of the manor, you feel a pair of eyes watch you from the shadows. The same pair of resentful, glowing eyes that have been quietly observing you ever since you found yourself here.

You can always tell when he’s nearby. The room gets quieter. You become self-aware of each breath you take, the way your body tenses under the penetrating gaze, of the nervous flutter in your heart as every fiber of your being tells you to run.

And usually, you would. The moment you feel the discomfort crawling beneath your skin, you listen to your instincts and walk right back out of the room you entered.

But today, you face the shadows of the room. The panther hybrid that silently eyes you in the darkness.

You told Taehyung this morning that you weren’t afraid of them, right? And cutting through this room is the fastest way to get to where you want to go.

With a brave face, you lower your gaze from the panther and bow slightly in greeting. “Hello, Yoongi. I’m just passing through.”

In the darkness, the pair of eyes widens a bit. It’s the first time you’ve talked to him since you arrived at the manor. The first time you even acknowledged him.

Had your gaze lingered a little longer, perhaps you would’ve seen it. But you briskly walk across the room to exit, muttering an apology beneath your breath for disturbing him.

By evening, after leisure activities and daily housework around the manor are done, everyone is gathered for dinner. Each night is something a little different: hot stews and soups, rice bowls and stir-fry with vegetables and protein, marinated meat and seafood. There’s always plenty of side dishes as well, and always something to satiate each of the hybrid's cravings for certain food.

For the first few nights, there’s still an awkward tension in the air as you and Jungkook sit with the pack. Everyone's a little quieter, shifting glances with each other in wordless conversations. You feel like the elephant in the room, hard to be unnoticed and yet something no one really wants to address.

Except Namjoon.

Across the table, Namjoon would ask you how your day was, looking at you as if you’re the only person in the room with him. He’d ask about the books you read that day, what your favorite parts are, if you’ve seen the movie adaptation. And one of the hybrids – namely Jimin, Taehyung, or Jungkook – would comment how they didn’t realize there was a book version and ask about the differences from the original.

If you mentioned a game with Jungkook that you played that day, Namjoon would proudly state that he’s quite good at puzzles and riddles, and challenges you to a round next time. And the other hybrids – Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok this time – would roll their eyes and grumble about how he is undefeated.

Even if you tell him that you slept most of the day and did absolutely nothing productive, Namjoon would still smile and tell you that rest is important. That he’s happy you feel comfortable sleeping well in the manor. He’d ask you if you had any good dreams, and listen to them even if it’s just the most mundane thing you could barely remember.

And you can’t help but think about how Kangdae never asks you questions like this.

Kangdae never bothered to ask about your day, how you’ve been, what you’re up to. So much of your relationship with him revolved around what he wants, what his plans are. It didn’t matter how you felt about them, as long as he got his way.

Yet, Namjoon seems to want to know everything about you. Your hobbies, your interests, what you like to do throughout the day, what you dream of.

It’s… different from what you’re used to. But it’s not entirely unwelcome either.

Like Taehyung, Namjoon has a question to ask you. Every night after dinner, as the other hybrids begin to clear away their plates and put their leftovers away, Namjoon comes up to you and inquires, “Would you like to spend the evening with me?”

Shyly, as your heart seems to flutter each time he does, you answer, “Of course.”

Stuck in the manor, and with the ongoing storm still strong, your options are rather limited.

Sometimes, he takes you to his greenhouse again where you can see the slow progress of his little garden. Sometimes, you’d take him up on his challenge and try to beat him in a puzzle or game. Sometimes, it’s a quiet evening where the two of you are reading books side by side, or watching a movie until you end up falling asleep, and you’d wake to find his arm protectively around you, holding you close. Sometimes, the night is full of laughter and chatter as the two of you share a bottle of wine by the fireplace and talk for hours about life, music, art, and whatever comes to mind, and realizing that he’s such an easy person to talk to.

Despite the circumstances, you enjoy hanging out with him. A lot more than you ever thought you would.

There’s something sweet and kind about Namjoon. He’s incredibly smart and humble, his down-to-earth personality helps him see the beauty of life, art, and passion in ways that are almost philosophical. He has very admirable traits that unveils the more you get to know him, yet he still keeps his certain secrets close to his heart about what creature he is and where he goes when he isn’t in the manor. Admittedly, he has many physical traits that you find attractive as well, from the deep dimples on his cheeks whenever he smiles to the bulge of muscles in his arms and chest.

It feels strange and new, a feeling you’ve never felt with anyone before. A feeling that you can’t quite place whenever you feel Namjoon’s pretty eyes on you or when he’d accidentally brush his hand against yours.

While the days seem to move slowly, almost in a standstill, time flies quickly when you’re with Namjoon. Before you know it, hours passed, and he is already escorting you to your room in the east wing.

“Good night, Namjoon,” you tell him once you’re inside the room, leaning against the doorway as you face him.

“Sweet dreams,” he replies, smiling at you in a way that makes his eyes form crescents and the dimples stretch along his cheek with his grin.

There’s a moment that lingers. One that feels like the night has ended too soon, and this is a chance for either of you to say something more. To not let the moment pass.

Just as he’s beginning to walk away, you call out to him. “Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

Would you like to spend the evening with me?

The bold question nearly comes out of your mouth, and you feel your face heat up when you realize what you’re about to ask him. Instead, you merely say, “Thank you. I had a nice time with you.”

His face softens a bit as he tells you, “Me too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Another day rises, gloomy as always. But for once, you don’t let the constant rain damper your spirits.

Perhaps it’s because you’ve been here a little while now. Perhaps it’s also because you have no idea when the rain will let you go. Perhaps it’s because you simply want to change things up from the dark and dreary. But if you’re going to be stuck in a manor with a bunch of hybrids, you might as well make the most of it. Right?

“Good morning, Taehyung,” you greet him the moment you open your bedroom door. He looks taken aback, as if you wouldn’t suspect he’d come to your door like he does every morning. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine.” He blinks at you, still confused. Maybe even a bit suspicious. The sleepiness that’s usually on his face isn’t present this time. “Are you all right?”

“I am,” you reply easily, giving him a polite, friendly smile. You’re about to head down for breakfast when you turn to face the bear hybrid again. “Thanks for always checking on me, by the way.”

Taehyung smiles a little to himself. He’s still a bit guarded around you, just as all the other hybrids. But to both of you, it’s a small start to change. “Sure. No problem.”

In the kitchen, you hear Hoseok and Jimin before you even see them. The two of them are in charge of breakfast again, singing a song they both know and shaking their hips as they stir and cut.

“Need any help?” you offer again, still in a good mood after talking to Taehyung.

Jimin barely glances at you. “We got it. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” you try again. “I can make a decent kimchi fried rice.”

“It’s true,” your number one supporter – Jungkook – pipes up, seemingly summoned by the chance to readily defend your honor and your cooking. “I tried it. It’s so good.”

You smile fondly at the bunny hybrid, and without thinking, you begin to pet his back affectionately. A mistake you instantly regret.

At your touch, Jungkook immediately tenses. His eyes are scared wide as he stares back at you, and you quickly draw your hand back.

Stupid, you scold yourself. His owner was physically abusive. Of course he wouldn’t feel comfortable with you just touching him. “I-I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I didn’t— I should’ve realized—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he insists, his voice soft. “It feels nice. I’m just… not used to it.”

Hoseok and Jimin are quiet as they watch the exchange between you two. All three hybrids note the guilt and distress on your face, and sense that you genuinely feel bad. Even as Jungkook takes your hands and brings them to his face and chest, trying to cheer you up, claiming that he knows that you won’t ever hurt him.

You’d never hurt any of them.

In fact, in the days that you and Jungkook have been in the manor, it’s clear that the two of you at least care about each other. From the little things like when you ask him how he slept the night before, or when Jungkook shares some of his food with you. To the obvious things like when Jungkook’s eyes would sparkle with fondness whenever he talks about you, or how you’re always looking out for him even when you seem busy reading a book.

Perhaps there’s some truth in Jungkook’s story from the first dinner together. Perhaps you aren’t like the other humans after all.

It makes you rather odd, peculiar to the rest of the hybrids. A beauty, but a funny girl.

Jimin ruffles his feathers a bit, as if he seems a bit confused about something. Then, after a bit of hesitation, he asks, “You said you can cook kimchi fried rice? What else can you make?”

It isn’t long until the kitchen fills with the aromas of your meal. You’ve been here long enough to know what each of them prefer as well, and with the three hybrids helping you finish making breakfast, you can’t help but feel proud of the abundance set on the table before you.

“Enjoy the meal, guys. I’ll see if the others want to join us,” you decide as the three hybrids already take their seats around the table. They nod their heads and express their appreciation, but the hunger in their eyes makes them impatient as they start to fill their plates with food.

By that time, Taehyung is probably fast asleep and you don’t want to bother him. You’re trusting that Jimin or Hoseok would save some food for him later. You also don’t have any idea where Namjoon would be, but you suspect that Seokjin would be in the gaming room like he usually is.

Just as you’re crossing the threshold leading to the gaming room, you feel him.

Eyes watching you from the shadows.

Normally, this is when you run. When your fight-or-flight instincts kick in and you turn back from the room as quickly as you entered. When you’d flee to another room as if he’d chase you out.

This time, you try to address the guarded presence in the room.

“Yoongi?”

There’s no answer. But if you were to see him, you’d see his ear twitch at the sound of his name. The gaze feels more intense, making your skin crawl, but you don’t let it scare you.

“I helped Hoseok and Jimin with breakfast today,” you continue and wait to see if he’d respond back. He doesn’t. Still, you meekly add on, “I wasn’t sure what you like. We saved some for you and the others. If you try it, I hope you like it.”

You take the following silence as your cue to leave, scurrying across to get into the game room. You feel uncertain if engaging in small talk with the leopard hybrid will change his impression of you at all.

Until later on, when you return to the kitchen, you see that his share is missing from their refrigerator. And Taehyung and Seokjin are sitting together eating their shares.

“Jimin told me that you made this,” the bear hybrid says when he sees you. “It’s good, right Seokjin-hyung?”

The wolf hybrid chokes a little in surprise, as if he’s just finding out now that the food he’s eating was made by you. It’s nearly devoured, but Seokjin coolly replies, “It’s not bad.”

You smile a little at this, feeling a bit proud of yourself. “Then, I’ll make something more delicious for you guys next time.”

“It’s nice what you did for everyone,” Namjoon tells you later that day, after dinner and during another evening date with him. He pours you a glass of whiskey, and you smile and take it from him. Congratulations are in order for finally getting the other hybrids to warm up to you.

“It’s the least I could do,” you tell him honestly, taking a sip and letting the liquor burn your throat a little. You grimace a bit, swirling the golden liquid in your glass. “You’ve all been nothing but kind to me.”

Your eyes are fixed on the alcohol, but you can see Namjoon staring at you from your peripheral vision. It’s such a softened look, almost endeared. You try to tell yourself the warmth on your face is from the whiskey and nothing else.

“I hope this means you’ll consider staying after the rain,” he nearly whispers. He doesn’t hide that you’re more than welcomed to. That, for whatever reason, he wants you to stay with him for a long time.

Perhaps a few days ago, you’d easily decline. You didn’t want to burden any of them for overstaying. You didn’t think it was even possible to be amicable with them.

But today proved you wrong. Today felt like a change to something new. Something that just wasn’t there before.

You take another sip of the whiskey and state, “I’ll think about it.”

Staying in the manor has been on your mind lately.

Day by day, it feels like time continues to move too slowly. The rain seems to come and go now, but it’s still too dangerous for you to leave the old manor on the chance that the storm will pick up again soon. Or that you might end up getting lost in the dense woods. Or any other excuse that seems like a bad idea to leave.

So, you stay.

You stay until Taehyung no longer questions if you’re afraid of them every morning.

It’s become a routine at this point.

Every day, the sleepy, handsome face of the bear hybrid is the first thing you see when you open the door to your bedroom. “Good morning, little human. How did you sleep?”

And you smile back at him, genuinely happy to see him. “Morning, Taehyung. I slept fine, thanks for asking.”

“That’s good,” he responds, nodding a bit to himself before he starts to head to his room. You’re not sure how long he waits for you to wake up, or why he still insists on checking on you before he turns in for bed, but you appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

“I hope you sleep well,” you tell him before he goes. And Taehyung just looks back at you and smiles.

You stay until Jimin no longer sees you as a guest in his home.

To your insistence, Jimin starts to see you helping around the manor more. Without anyone asking, he sees that you’d fix snacks for everyone in the afternoon, cutting up fruits or spreading tuna mix on crackers. He sees you dusting around the east corridor on days when it rains, tending to Namjoon’s flowers as they begin to bloom and grow, and folding laundry with Jungkook.

You’re really starting to make yourself at home here.

Jimin preens his black feathers, neatly fixing his wing as you’re sweeping around with a broom and dustpan. He doesn’t think you’re even paying attention to him until he hears you murmur, “They’re so pretty.”

“What is?”

“Your feathers,” you tell him with a shy smile. “They’re a really unique color.”

“Oh.” He feels his chest puff up a bit, swelling with happiness. In the shelter he ran away from, and even the lake where he was born, he was always the odd one out – the ugly duckling of the group. Hearing you compliment him makes his heart stir as he quietly mutters, “Thank you.”

You stay as Hoseok begins to realize you’re not a threat to them.

It takes a while, but slowly, eventually, Hoseok no longer flinches or looks at you with terror when you’re near him. Where he even tries to make small talk with you at the dinner table, or when he’s with another hybrid. Seeing how gentle you are with Jungkook – and these days, to the others – seems to assure him that you’re not an enemy to him or his pack.

At the library, Hoseok sees you and Jungkook together. It isn’t unusual to find you here, but Jungkook must’ve wanted to spend time with you.

In his bunny form, Jungkook falls asleep on your lap. His little body is comfortably stretched out as you absently scratch his head and behind his ears, and then massage his back. He’s practically melting at your touch, whiskers twitching with content.

Jungkook is completely safe with you. Despite his past with his previous owner and the horrors he had to face before he met you, he’s let his guard down with you.

Perhaps that’s why Hoseok finally musters up the courage to approach you. “I saw the movie for this, but I think I like the book better so far.”

You look up at him and smile. “Oh, that’s a good one! I like the book better too.”

He returns your smile, still a bit nervous, but eventually, he sits next to you. Neither of you say a word as you quietly read your books together. But the implication of it all, the wordless comfort of being around each other’s presence, is more than enough.

You stay as Yoongi starts to respond back to you.

Shortly after you and Hoseok spend the afternoon reading together, the leopard hybrid jumps down and reveals himself before you. He regards you with cautious eyes still, and you’re frozen in your spot, not sure what to expect.

Then, as if he’s the nervous one, he breaks eye contact with you. “I didn’t know you listened to Epik High.”

You blink at him, but then remember you’re wearing their merch shirt. “Oh, I do! I went to their concert a couple years ago!”

He looks surprised. “I didn’t take you as the type to listen to hip-hop.”

You smirk a little at his reaction. “Namjoon didn’t tell you? I met him when he was still an underground rapper.”

You stay as Seokjin shows you a different side to him.

On the day when it was so cold that the rain turned into snow, you and Jungkook decided to have a snowball fight in the courtyard. The other hybrids could hear you screaming and laughing from inside the manor as the bunny hybrid chases you around, cackling like a madman as he carries mounds of snow in his hand.

When you see Jimin and Taehyung, you run to them for help, trying to hide behind them. The two look a little unsure of what to do until you peek out from behind Taehyung and hurl a snowball at Jungkook’s shoulder.

Hoseok laughs at the three of you split up with Jimin and Taehyung catching on quick. Yoongi and Namjoon watch by the doorway with amusement as you play with the youngest hybrids.

But as Seokjin watches, his tail is wagging and his pointed ears are perked with interest. His big eyes follow the snowballs being thrown, and his body lunges a bit, as if ready to catch them before he forcibly stops himself.

Hoseok notices and bends down to gather the snow on the ground, forming them into a ball. “Hyung, let’s show these kids how it’s done.”

You’re a bit startled when you come face to face with the wolf hybrid, not expecting him to join the fight. He’s in his wolf form, bigger than any dog you’ve encountered, and much more intimidating had it not been for the playful way Seokjin stretches out his front paws and raises his butt, wagging his tail as he eyes the ball of snow in your hands. When you throw it, Seokjin immediately takes off and bites the snow in midair, ruining your surprise attack.

Jungkook laughs when he sees this. “Wow, Jin-hyung, you’re so mean!”

And then gets hit in the face with a snowball by Hoseok.

You stay because Namjoon asks you to.

An awful flu has you bedridden for a couple weeks after the big snowball fight. Despite how many extra blankets are over your body, you’re still shivering beneath them. You’re coughing and sneezing until your chest and throat aches and you can’t breathe properly through your nose. All you can eat are liquids because solid food makes you nauseous.

Jungkook is so worried about you, he’s standing by your bedside with tears in his eyes, telling you not to die on him.

And you, a blob beneath several blankets – voice hoarse and completely congested, feeling like this illness has you fighting through hell and back – try to assure him as best as you can that you’ll be fine.

Surprisingly, all the hybrids step up to take care of you.

Seokjin cooks you chicken noodle soup, Yoongi brews you ginger tea with honey and lemon, Taehyung leaves plenty of water by your nightstand to keep you hydrated, Hoseok often places a cool, damp washcloth on your burning forehead to reduce your fever, Jungkook makes sure your bed is comfortable by adding on more blankets and pillows from his bed to yours, and Jimin shoos away the other hybrids when they want to check on you so you could rest properly.

At some point, Namjoon must have gone into your room as well.

After dozing off, you open your eyes to see a smerlado flower on your nightstand, resting on top of a book and a note. In Namjoon’s handwriting, he writes that he just finished reading the book and thought you’d like it. And as you flip open the pages, you see sticky notes and tabs of Namjoon’s thoughts and comments as he was reading through it.

Your mood instantly lifts as you read through them, smiling and laughing at some, itching to add your own thoughts into others. You keep hoping to turn the page and see another comment from him, even if it’s just a note that says to remind him about a particular paragraph later since he has more to say than what he could write. And only part-way through the story, you ask Jimin to get you a pen and some paper so you could write Namjoon back.

For a little while, it goes on like this. Little handwritten letters shared between you and Namjoon, especially when it still hurts to talk and you keep sleeping on and off all day. It becomes one of the things you look forward to the most, receiving a letter from him, even more so than the book he pairs with it to keep you entertained while you’re in bed.

The rain has stopped. The snow has stopped. And honestly, once you recover from this flu, you could technically leave the manor and the hybrids behind. Night falls and the moon is so bright. The stars look beautiful without the clouds masking their lights.

“What are you thinking about?” Namjoon quietly asks, visiting you for the evening as he always does. Even when you’re sick in bed, he’s adamant about courting you. He reads your notes, and you watch the dimples on his cheeks form when he comes across something funny or endearing. He brings you tea, flowers, more books, and puzzles, but spends most of his evenings just talking to you. Even as you doze off, he watches over you, comfortable with your presence as you feel his fingers linger by your face and lips.

Tonight, as you look at him, you think he looks handsome under the moonlight. Tall, strong, and the indigo colors of his eyes look magical as his gaze falls on you.

“The storm stopped, but…” you trail off, a wave of emotion hitting you so suddenly. You think about how the hybrids are just starting to warm up to you, how Jungkook is right at home here, how this was your goal from the very start and you can’t imagine parting ways from any of them now.

Namjoon doesn’t need you to finish your sentence. His hand finds yours, warm and big, yet it holds yours so gently. “Then stay. This is your home now, too.”

You decide to stay because you want to.

Six months have passed since you and Jungkook first arrived at the old manor. Dinners have been livelier after the snowball fight. The hybrids have gotten used to you being around, regarding you with warm smiles whenever they see you.

And you feel safe when you’re with them. You feel at home.

On a clear and starry night, after Yoongi casually mentions that the old owners of the manor seemed to have hosted balls and parties long ago, you and the hybrids decide to dress up and throw your own party for fun. Remnants of this are found in the attic, the servant quarters, and even the grand ballroom itself.

It’s in a closet where you find a beautiful ball gown. It feels like it’s been made for you the way it perfectly fits your body, the shade of yellow complimenting your skin tone, and the exquisite details that make the dress sparkle. There’s a giddiness in you as you go all out, fixing your hair and makeup for the first time in ages.

When Jungkook first sees you, his mouth falls open in surprise.

You start to feel a bit self-conscious when he doesn’t say anything. “I look silly, don’t I?”

“No! Not at all!” he quickly assures you with a laugh. “You look beautiful.”

As you wait in the east wing, Jungkook hops off ahead to inform the others that you’re ready. Music begins to play from the ballroom, and you take a deep breath in.

Tonight, you feel nervous, and you’re not entirely sure why. Every night, for the past six months, you’ve spent your evenings after dinner with Namjoon.

This time, it shouldn’t feel any different, except it does.

Careful of the steps, you slowly make your descent down the stairs. Once you’re at the middle landing, that’s when you see him.

Namjoon is also dressed up tonight, but he looks like a prince straight out of a fairytale story. As he steps down the stairs from the west wing to meet you, he stares at you in awe. Then, with a charming smile, he extends his arm toward you and asks, “Shall we?”

You smile back shyly and wrap your arm around his. Then, together, the two of you walk down the rest of the steps that lead to the ballroom.

It’s enchanting, the way the chandeliers glow and sparkle above you. Yoongi is on the piano and Taehyung on the violin. Seokjin and Jungkook are dancing together, giggling and goofing around, and Hoseok and Jimin are sitting together with an open bottle of champagne shared between them.

You feel their gazes on you and Namjoon the moment you two enter. Even Yoongi and Taehyung momentarily stop playing as they look at you.

“Don’t mind them,” Namjoon whispers when he sees that you’re getting a little anxious from the attention. He takes one of your hands in his as his other hand holds your waist. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

Hoseok waves for the music to start again, and a romantic tune fills the ballroom. You and Namjoon start to dance together. It’s a bit clumsy at first. Namjoon winces every time he nearly steps on your feet and mumbles embarrassed apologies. But you smile and assure him that it’s okay, almost feeling like no one else is in the room except you and him.

After a while, Yoongi changes it from live music to songs from his playlist, still keeping the romantic atmosphere as Taehyung and Jimin dance together, and Hoseok stares at the leopard hybrid with eyes begging for a dance as well. You’d think Jungkook would want to cut in to dance with you at one point, but he still seems to be having fun with Seokjin and they copy each other’s silly dance moves.

“I’m going to step out for some fresh air,” you tell Namjoon, and he nods his head, saying he’ll go with you.

While the party continues inside, the two of you enter the balcony where the cold, night air hits your skin and makes you shiver. You feel his hand on the small of your back, rubbing you gently to keep you warm. And it works. You feel the heat on your face as the peaceful, beautiful night surrounds you two.

There’s a serious look in his eyes, as if he’s contemplating something, before he asks you, “Are you happy here? With me?”

“I am,” you reply honestly. You can’t thank Namjoon enough for taking you and Jungkook in that night of the storm, despite almost hurting one of his packmates. You can imagine a life without him and the other hybrids now either.

“Do you ever think about going back?”

“Sometimes,” you admit. You miss your family, and every now and then, you wonder how they’re doing. How much has changed in that small, provincial town since you left. You even think about Kangdae sometimes, though you’re certain he must be with another girl. They must all think you’re long gone by now. “I don’t think I will, though. I like being with you. And the others, of course.”

Namjoon smiles gently. “Then, I’m glad you stayed.”

“Me too.” You mean it, too. Your eyes meet Namjoon’s, and you can’t help but think of how pretty they are. How attractive he is. How you’re so tempted to just move a little closer and just—

“I have a confession to make.”

You feel your heart race. “What is it?”

“I think – I knew – from the moment I met you,” Namjoon begins, his voice soft. The strokes of his thumb on your back feel more intimate as his gaze falls on your lips. “You’re the one. You’re my—”

A commotion interrupts from below.

You hear Seokjin barking and snarling angrily, followed by the deep, rumbling growls from Taehyung and Yoongi. Voices are shouting. People you don’t recognize.

Everything seems to move in slow motion as you and Namjoon look over the balcony to see flashlights waving in the premise of the manor. Some of the hybrids are out there in their animal forms, warning the group of intruders to back away.

“Namjoon,” Hoseok interrupts, coming to the balcony with urgency in his eyes. “It’s the humans. They’re—”

A gunshot fires.

Your blood runs cold as the deadly sound rings in your ear.

And, to your horror, you hear a voice that you do recognize, shouting your name.

“Babe, I know you’re there!” Kangdae yells, looking up at you from where he stands. “Come down here and say hello! Or I’ll shoot your darling pets one by one.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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#to be loved #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #hybrid namjoon #hybrid namjoon x reader #hybrid namjoon x you #bts namjoon x reader #bts namjoon x you #hybrid bts #bts fic #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid x you

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k-marzolf · 1 year

Text

Walk on water just to kiss me.

An idea I had because I used to write to a man as a teenager, of course there was no romantic interest, but I remember it always made me feel less lonely.

Word count: 714.

(cw; obsession, kissing, Marine!Billy, loneliness, a bit of Yandere!Billy, feelings of unworthiness, fear of abandonment, plus size reader, possessive thoughts, fem!reader)

You’d written to Billy while he was in Afghanistan, you must have gotten his name at one of those charity drives. And at first he groaned, he didn’t need charity. But you drew him in with your words, the clumsiness with which you spoke.

“Is it okay if I write? It’s okay if not, I just get lonely here.” You’d said, making his heart squeeze. “I always bothered ma and dad. Yours must be proud of you.”

He’d answered, “You can write, sweetheart. I never knew my dad. Mom abandoned me at a fire station in Albany.”

He expected pity, but he got compassion. “You should be proud of making something of yourself, Billy, despite your beginnings.”

And you asked if he had nightmares too, like you did, and if you could send him a rosé quartz, because “it helps with sleep if you put it under your pillow,” you’d said. You talked about your bunny, Piper, and how she bit people, and was always begging for fruit.

She’d recently bit your maintenance man.

“She’s a little spicy. I had to replace the wallpaper because she chewed on the wall.”

It was the first time he laughed in a while, a smile breaking out.

The next week he’d received the rosé quartz, and the guys gave him shit over it, but as he stared at the crystal, he felt a warmth bloom in his chest. A sort of obsession took hold, that had him constantly waiting for another letter.

A sickness in him when it took you a while to respond, worrying you just didn’t want to write anymore. He scolded himself for his attachment to you.

But he wanted you for himself. He didn’t want to share you, hiding your letters because he didn’t want the guys to see it, to love you too.

“Do you think I can be yours, Billy?” That had made him feral, he’d nearly ripped the letter he’d gripped it so hard.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl? To be mine?” He’d answered back.

You’d answered back in a week. “Yes.”

He realized somewhere along the way that he was more attached than was healthy, and so were you to him. You never spoke of any friends, and other than your bunny, you seemed completely alone.

“I grew up in the system.” You answered when he asked about family.

His heart ached when you mentioned you missed him, after he'd been unable to write for over a month. He noticed bunny chew marks on the pages, as though she’d tried to eat the letter.

And the smell of your perfume, subtle but a fitting aroma.

“I’m lonely, Billy. I’m sorry.” You’d written once when you kept sending him letter after letter, and fuck, he wanted to be at home with you. He hated attachments, but you’d come in like a thief in the night, taking ahold of him.

He’d laid awake at night imagining what you might look like, what your voice would sound like. What it would be like to have your body pressed against his. What it would feel like to kiss you, to taste you. You consumed him when he wasn’t on a mission.

And then, he met you at the airport. You were plus size. But Billy didn’t give a fuck. You were his, and that was all that mattered.

His mouth touched yours in a hard kiss, and you whined a little in shock, but opened up to him, your fingers gripping his sweater. You tasted like a sweet wine that you probably had before meeting him here.

“You’re real pretty, sweetheart.” He said, kissing you again, making you sigh into his mouth.

“You’re pretty, too.” You’d said shyly, looking at him from under your lashes.

Billy laughed. Goddamn, you were sweet.

He was never letting you go, he thought, kissing your forehead, his scruffy beard tickling your skin. He had something of his own now.

He felt unworthy of you, being just an orphan with nothing to his name. Nothing but the clothes on his back, and his little dinky apartment that couldn’t heat properly.

But he’d make himself worthy of you. He’d build up his dream in Anvil, and he’d make sure you were never lonely again.

He swore it.

Tags; @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

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bettermiya · 1 year

Text

Dinner Guest

Pairing: Osamu Miya x AFAB!Reader

WC: 2.8k words.

Triggers: Cannibalism, Abusive Ex, Nonconsensual Drugging, Consensual Handjob, Human Butchering against an NPC, Violence, Blood. MDNI. 18+.

Summary: Osamu offers you a perfect meal. Horror!AU. Hannibal-esque!AU.

You get home from work exhausted, but the smell coming from the kitchen is enough to wash away some of the day’s stresses. You drop your things off by the front door and slip off your shoes- you’ll get everything put into its proper place later. Right now, the aroma from the kitchen is drawing you in like one of those cartoons, a beckoning finger that pulls you forward until you are practically on top of Osamu.

“What are you making for dinner?” You peer around his broad frame to stare at the pots and pans on the stove. The smell is divine. Osamu turns to you and presses a kiss into your hair.

“Hayashi rice.” He says, letting his face linger against your head for a few moments as he takes in your scent. “It’s almost ready. Go sit, I’ll bring it over to the table.” He lightly nudges you with his hip before going back to his cooking. You linger a moment, mouth watering while he tends to the meat and sauce. He gives a small huff of a laugh and uses his chopsticks to cut free a tiny corner of meat- it’s so tender that it easily gives way. After carefully dipping it in the sauce, he cups a hand beneath the gently steaming morsel and offers it to you. As you lean in, so does he, and he meets your eyes as he gently blows on the hot food.

“Open, darlin’.”

You do, and he eases the food into your awaiting mouth. A bit of the sauce drips onto your chin, but you hardly notice. You’re melting with the warm, comforting bite. Osamu notices, however, and before you can step away to go to the dining room, he brushes his tongue slowly over your skin. Warmth spreads through the rest of your body as the tip of his tongue teases your lower lip. You lean closer, expecting a kiss, but he pulls away with a grin. “That’s all yer gettin’ for now. Go get settled ‘n get off yer feet. I’ll be done soon.”

The apartment you share with Osamu is open and spacious. You pad on sock feet from Osamu’s kingdom of ranges and spices and knife blocks into the adjoined dining room with its intimate, small table already set for two. There are candles glowing on either side of a beautiful centerpiece of fresh flowers. You take in their subtle perfume as you finally pull out your chair and take a seat. As you sit there, you close your eyes, thinking you’ll rest them just for a moment while you wait for Osamu.

You are awakened by the aroma of the rice and beef and the dark demi-glace and the sensation of Osamu’s breath against your neck. He has pulled his chair very close to yours. He kisses your jaw and nips at the lobe of your ear. Feeling a smile cross your face, you lift a hand to brush through his short hair. “Sorry. Work took a lot out of me today.”

“That’s alright, darlin’. I don’t mind. Ya look pretty when ya sleep.”

Dinner is a quiet affair. He asks you about your day in low tones in between taking bites of food and brushing his hand against your thigh and the small of your back. You are nodding by the time you finish, the stew of beef, carrots, onions, mushrooms sitting warm and comforting within your stomach. Though it’s a little embarrassing and you feel a bit guilty for not being able to stay awake long enough to spend the evening together sprawled on the couch like usual, you love the way he gathers you from the chair into his arms so easily and carries you back to bed.

His hands are strong and warm as they gently unbutton and slide away your clothes. He teases you with soft caresses and little kisses and dresses you again into a soft, clean shirt that smells of him. You try to groggily protest and ask for more attention from his mouth and hands, but he reminds you that you’ve had a hard day. “Sleep a little, and we’ll see.”

When you drift up from sleep, he is climbing into bed beside you, having finished cleaning up from dinner and changing into his own pajamas, which consist only of the soft pants of the set. You realize you are wearing his shirt that completes the set. It seems fitting. He curls up behind you, dragging you against his chest. His lips find the base of your neck, the curve of your shoulder; his teeth tug at the lobe of your ear. You’re still lingering in that hazy place between reality and dreams, sleep threatening to pull you back into its embrace.

One of his strong hands nudges up the hem of the shirt you’re wearing and glides along the plains of your bare stomach. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your underwear and gently tease the warmth between your thighs. You drift back to sleep riding waves of pleasure. Your dreams are filled with his soft murmurs.

You wake up to the sound of a door slamming. Groggily, you grab your phone and check the time. The glow of the screen scatters spots across your field of vision; the blocky numbers tell you it is early in the morning. The space beside you on the bed still holds a bit of warmth from Osamu. He must have just gotten up to go to the restaurant. Sometimes he leaves in the wee hours of the morning to buy special ingredients from the markets- usually various cuts of meat he carries home in big, dark bags. You’ve asked before to go with him, but he says there’s no reason for you to get up so early when you work such long hours and besides, you don’t really want to see a bunch of animal carcasses being chopped up, do you?

Normally you sleep through his absence and by the time you wake, he is back with all of his meat neatly packed away in his large freezer box and he is in the kitchen preparing you breakfast. It’s very rare that you wake up with him still gone. He makes sure to tire you out enough so that you never have to be alone while you are home, or so he likes to say.

You sit up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, and rub at your heavy eyelids. You’re having a hard time keeping yourself awake, but you want to check on the loud slamming of the door. You’re pretty sure you can also hear heavy footfalls coming down the hall. Osamu is usually so quiet, especially when you’re sleeping. Your mind still feeling a bit hazy, you stand up and pad barefoot toward the bedroom door, only for it to be shoved open.

Fear pours over you like cold water. You still feel very foggy, but there is no mistaking the figure who is standing in the doorway. It’s your ex. You have no idea how they found you after all this time. You deleted all of your old social media. You changed your number. You moved in with Osamu in a completely different city. The apartment, the restaurant– everything is in his name. You even went through the trouble of changing your name legally to prevent this exact outcome.

Your mind is not working quickly enough. You open your mouth to dumbly ask how they found you, but before you can, they are storming forward and shoving you backward. You stagger, but manage to remain standing. Lifting both of your hands, you try to speak, but they strike you across the face so violently, stars burst across your vision and you drop to your knees. Pain flares in your knees and your head; you feel like your brain has rattled about in your skull. Blood is pooling in your mouth.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” They’re screaming obscenities. They kick you in the stomach, and a mixture of blood and saliva bursts from your mouth and sprinkles the carpet. Suddenly, they snatch a handful of your hair and drag you from the room. Your brain is finally beginning to catch up with what is happening. You scream and kick and grab for their hands, trying to make them release you.

They stop, and for one moment, you think maybe by some miracle, they will stop and listen to reason. Instead, they grab the side of your head and slam it into the wall. The fight goes out of you, and you are on the verge of losing consciousness as they begin pulling you again. You tilt back your head to look up at them, and see Osamu standing behind them. There is a strange look to his face, one you haven’t seen before. His eyes are cold and calculating, his jaw is tight. He lifts both of his hands and claps them together hard against your ex’s ears.

They drop you, and your head knocks against the tiled floor of the kitchen. You didn’t even realize they had dragged you this far. You can hear your ex screaming, but it sounds dull and far away. Turning your head, you watch as Osamu grabs them by the throat and easily lifts them up, slamming them down hard onto the pristine surface of the kitchen island. From where you are lying, you can’t see exactly what happens next. Osamu lifts a knife and it comes down; your ex stops screaming, but their legs, dangling over the edge of the island, are kicking wildly.

Osamu kneels down beside you and very tenderly cups the back of your head, lifting you into a sitting position. Your head is throbbing in time with the rhythm of your frantic heartbeat and the spinning and tilting of the room is making you very nauseous. “Can ya hear me, darlin’?” His voice is very low, very calm…. almost dangerously so.

You try to nod, but that makes your head hurt worse. “Yes.” You finally manage.

“I’m real sorry,” He murmurs, kissing your temple. His eyes linger on your mouth, where your busted lip is still leaking blood onto your chin. Cupping your jaw, he leans forward and brushes his tongue along your skin and lower lip, cleaning away the smear of red from your skin. “I thought I gave ya enough to let ya sleep through this whole nasty business.”

You look at him confused. He lifts you up and sits you down in one of the dining room chairs. You can still see into the kitchen. Your ex is grabbing at the knife, which is sticking out of the middle of his throat. Your head is spinning. Everything feels just a bit unreal. Osamu steps away, but he returns quickly to your side, pressing a towel with ice inside against the back of your head. He lifts your hand and presses it to the towel. “Hold this here.” You nod and hold it.

“What did you mean before…?”

“Mm… I put something in yer drink tonight. Just somethin’ to help ya sleep. I thought it’d be enough to keep ya sleepin’ til I was done with…,” He stood up and walked over to your ex, whose struggling seems to be growing more sluggish. “Ya see, I told ‘em where to find us… the plan was to take care of ‘em without ya havin’ to be involved, but… things didn’t quite go as I planned. S’okay, though, darlin’... y’all never have to worry about ‘em ever again.”

Your mind is slow to comprehend what is happening. You watch Osamu pull free the knife, see the spray of blood arc upward like a fountain. You blink, slowly, and when you open your eyes again, you see the flash of a large cleaver. Things unfold before you in hazy flashes. Your ex’s head disappears from the counter. Osamu methodically begins butchering the body. Cuts of meat are wrapped and bound together with twine. The various cuts of meat are stacked neatly together. Osamu hums as he works. This all feels like a dream… a strange nightmare. He comes to check on you off and on during his work.

He takes away the ice and towel. His lips brush against your brow. Kneeling in front of you, he takes your hands and kisses your palms, the tips of your fingers. “Are ya feelin’ okay?”

Your head is still hurting, but the nausea has gone away. It must be the shock and the ice you had been holding to your battered head- you’re shivering. He touches your cheek. You are staring at the neat, wrapped packages that had once been your ex, but the fear and revulsion you should be feeling are not there. Not yet. Osamu stands again and moves back into the kitchen.

Over the next few minutes, he carries everything from the kitchen to the large freezer. “We’ll have a lovely feast when yer feelin’ better.” He promises. When he’s done, he scoops you up and carries you back to bed. After tucking you in, he kisses your forehead.

“Try to rest. I’ll keep a check on ya.”

You wake late the next day to the smell of breakfast. Osamu sets a tray beside you on the bed. There is miso soup, rice, and strips of meat. Your gaze lingers on the meat, thinking back to the strange dream you had the previous night. It must have been a dream. It couldn’t have been real, and it all seems so strange and hazy in the warm glow of the sunlight spilling into the bedroom. Osamu smiles and strokes your cheek. “I hope yer hungry.”

You eat. He watches, smiling calmly the entire time. His hand is stroking your bare thigh while you eat. When you’re done, he offers soft words of praise and draws you into his lap. You are more awake now with the full breakfast settling nicely in your stomach. The previous night begins to come into more focus. You remember the blood… you remember the meat… you think hard about the taste of the cooked meat and rice and soup on your tongue.

But his hand is drifting down… down… teasing and working between your legs while his mouth tastes your skin…

You stop thinking so hard and lose yourself in the touch… the taste…

“Yer such a good girl,” He murmurs into your neck, his voice a low rumble at the back of his throat. His touch is slow at first, a steady stroking in lazy circles. You lose track of your thoughts. Your awareness is shrinking; all you can focus on is his finger tracing those careful loops between your legs. You try to help him along by arching your hips into his hand, but he hums against your skin and gently lowers you back onto the bed. He leans over you, his hand still moving so slowly and deliberately.

“There’s no need to rush,” He says, moving his mouth to yours. His teeth catch your lower lip and scrape against the still tender flesh there. You taste a bit of your own blood, and so does he as his tongue slides into your mouth. His finger presses deeper, slowly. Your back arches. Heat is pooling in your abdomen. His finger eases back, circles. He breaks the kiss before his finger slides in again so he can hear the low moan escape your bloodied lips. He hooks his other arm beneath your head, tugging you closer. The fingers of his free hand curl beneath your jaw and tilt your head up while his thumb brushes over your lips.

He presses his thumb into your mouth, and as you run your tongue along his skin, he purrs. “Tha’s my girl.”

Two fingers now. They press into you slowly, deeply. You whimper around the thumb in your mouth as your hips arch upward into his touch. His teeth mark the skin where your neck and shoulder meet; he sucks and licks the place where he bites. He allows your hips to rise against his hand while he teases you, his fingers moving in and out in a steady rhythm. You are panting, gasping, bucking against him. This time, when his fingers slide in, he hooks them and strokes as you cry out.

Your body is quivering. Your thoughts have scattered. There was something you were thinking of, but his hands, his mouth… his tongue… his teeth… you can barely focus on anything other than the sparks of heat and pleasure in the places where he touches you. He turns your face toward him and kisses you as his fingers continue their work.

“I’m real proud of ya,” He says, his hot breath washing over your temple. His touch draws another shuddering cry from your lips. Your whole body is alight. You are beginning to tire, but he is relentless in his ministration. Again… again… your body arches into his hand… you gasp and tremble… you whimper…

When you are utterly spent, he slides his fingers free and brings them to his lips, running his tongue along them while he holds your gaze. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Delicious.”

#osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #osamu x reader #yandere haikyuu #written by iwachan

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roseeycreates-blog · 2 months

Note

Prompt-lin and tenzin have broken up and Rohan is around 6 and pema starts to see the beauty of Lin and she starts dropping hints to tenzin once he realizes he gives the okay and pema starts flirting with Lin subtle but enough to think twice even tenzin starts to then when Lin and tenzin are speaking pema comes from behind tenzin and looks at lin sultry winking at her when she has to go back to the station absolutely making her do flips in her head. I only like pema when she's nice to Lin ☺️

Hi, anon~

First of all, thank you for sending me this. I really appreciate that you gave me a prompt. I’m not a writer, but it still made me happy. I usually see "prompts" given to great writer moots (Gosh, I feel like using the term moots doesn’t suit me, or am I using it wrong? I'm old.). ANYWAY.

Second, did I just receive a PemLinZin prompt? Okay, it's not really my cup of tea, but I’m going to give it a try. I did an edit for LinMon, so I’ll give this one a shot too. Sorry in advance!

A big storm hits Republic City, and Air Temple Island ends up hosting everyone who needs shelter. Lin, caught in the storm, has no choice but to stay there. For three days, she’s crammed into one room with Tenzin’s family since the beds are reserved for pregnant women and the elderly. It’s a bit awkward for her, but she makes do.

Tenzin wakes up to find Pema watching Lin with a smile. “Pema? What are you—” he starts, but Pema shushes him, motioning him to stay quiet so Lin doesn’t wake up. “She looks peaceful,” Pema whispers.

Later, Tenzin pulls Pema aside, puzzled. “What are you doing there?”

“Just admiring the Chief,” Pema replies. “She looks beautiful and kind when she’s asleep.”

Tenzin is taken aback and doesn’t know how to react. Pema continues, “You know, Tenzin, I’ve started to appreciate Lin more these past days. I can see why you were drawn to her.”

Stunned and speechless, Tenzin is further confused when Pema subtly flirts with Lin. As they chat, Pema sneaks up behind Tenzin, giving Lin a sultry look and a wink.

At dinner, Pema sits next to Lin, leaning in close. “You know, Chief, your eyes are really something.”

Lin replied, “Uh, thanks, Pema.”

Noticing the flirtation, Tenzin decides to join in. “You look great tonight, Lin. It’s nice having you around.”

Lin feels flattered and overwhelmed. “Thanks, Tenzin. It’s been nice being here.”

As Tenzin’s hand accidentally brushes against Lin’s, he adds, “I’ve missed moments like this. It feels like old times.”

When the kids are finally asleep and it’s just the adults, Pema pulls Lin closer and throws a blanket over both of them. “It’s getting pretty chilly. Let’s stay warm together.”

Tenzin settles in on Lin’s other side. “Good move with the blanket. It’s colder than I expected.”

Lin, feeling cozy and a bit flustered, reluctantly agrees, “Alright, I’ll go along with it. Just don’t get any weird ideas.”

RING RING RING!

The alarm blares loudly, jolting all three awake. They blink in confusion, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Tenzin groggily mumbles, “I just had the weirdest dream.”

Pema and Lin sit up, looking dazed and still half-asleep. They both blurt out in unison, “Mine's a nightmare!”

Okay, I’m really sorry. Please don’t stop sending me asks because of this. I really tried.

#anon asks #pemlinzin #pema #tenzin #lin beifong #i tried

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toothpastecanyon · 6 months

Text

The Comfort of Agony, Chapter 8

For the first time in his eternal life, Alcor had been bound. He couldn't leave even if he wanted to... so it was just as well that he didn't want to leave, right? After all, this was what Mizar wanted.

He didn't know what she was so angry with him for, but he probably deserved it.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

Nxlar the Antithetical is from @gnomewithalaptop awesome TAU Dash Simulator!

______________________________________________________________

Piper had never in her life been so tired at eight PM. Her whole body felt so sore and clumsy and heavy, like lead was running through her veins. She was so tired she wasn’t even quite sure she was awake; she kept jolting up, opening her eyes, looking around the motel room as she tried to get ahold of herself… and then opening her eyes again. It was confusing, and half-formed dreams followed her into the waking world. She was sure there’d been a unicorn here, but she was…

She was drawing a circle. Or more aptly, Alcor was drawing a circle, with her hand. It moved smoothly and steadily, a focused presence sharing her body as it drew a complex array of symbols on the tile…

Piper jolted as she opened her eyes again. Had that been a dream too? No. That was real.

Stars, her neck was killing her. She cast a longing glance at the bed just a few feet away, and then slumped down to look at the mirror in her lap.

“Alcor…” she started. “When are we… when’s this done?”

“Nearly done with this binding circle.” He said, and she could feel her eyelids drooping lower. “I picked a more powerful demon to quickly ward off the angel, so the circle had to be a little more complex. Nxlar’s a good choice, she’s dangerous, sure, but pretty sensitive to…”

“…and that should hold her! You ready Piper? Piper?”

Piper sat up; there was a wetness on the side of her mouth. Eww, she’d been drooling.

“Jeez,” Alcor gave a sympathetic frown. “You really are tired. You wanna just go to sleep?”

“I’m…” she rubbed her eyes. “I can’t sleep until we do this, so let’s just do this, right?”

“I mean, I can do it alone,” he said, sheepishly. “I, uh, sort of have already been doing it, rather than telling you what to draw. If you just wanted to go to sleep while I, uh, use your body…?”

Piper gave a slow blink. She could tell he was trying to broach something to her… but she was fried. She just sat there fighting her eyelids as he made a few more quick markings.

“Uh, alright,” Alcor said, and had her stand up. “I’ll do the talking, then.”

Grabbing twenty three candles, he walked around the chalk, setting them down in a zigzag pattern on an inner and outer circle. Once that was done, he took a look at his work - and rolled his eyes a bit at the clutter of her circle. Twenty three candles? Alcor thought any demons with more than twelve were being a bit extra. And Nxlar - ever the contrarian - didn’t even want you to light them, so it didn’t have the pretty candlelight glow while you chanted. Not to mention all the intricate chalk symbols you couldn’t even make out in a dark room…

Alcor shook his head. Well, aesthetic concerns aside, the circle was done. Raising Piper’s hands up in the air, he began the summoning.

“O, Nxlar the Antithetical, O Great Mistress of Decay, I draw upon your darkness!”

The room seemed to drop ten degrees, and Alcor let out a subtle scoff that fogged the air. Putting ‘great’ in your own summoning chant - a little gauche, don’t you think? But a sickly rotting smell was starting to emanate from the circle, so he put it out of mind.

As he watched, the unlit candles started to sag and bloat at their bases; the white wax greyed and split, and a dark, stinking sludge oozed fourth and began to pool in the center of the circle.

As tentacles slowly took form, Alcor slipped the mirror behind Piper’s back, and opened her eyes. He watched a dripping maw form, and smiled as a rumbling, frustrated growl rattled the walls.

“A̷ b̶i̶n̸d̵i̶n̸g̶ c̷i̶r̴c̵l̵e̴?̵” Nxlar’s voice was a staticy echo. One of her tentacles snaked out towards the edge of the circle; it stopped short, and she hissed as she drew it back. “Y̷o̴u̶ ̸d̷r̴a̷g̴ ̸m̶e̸ ̶o̴u̵t̶ ̶h̴e̵r̵e̵ ̵w̴i̴t̶h̵ ̴n̷̬̚ō̴̺ ō̸̩f̸͎̎f̸͎̅ë̴͇́r̴̝̈i̷̠͆ṉ̴̀g̶͔̓,̶ ̷a̸n̶d̵ ̸t̵h̶e̵n̶ ̷y̴o̴u̸ ̶t̶r̴a̵p̷ ̵m̶e̵ ̵i̵n̴ ̶t̵h̵i̵s̵ ̴t̶i̵n̶y̸ ̸c̵i̴r̶c̴l̴e̸?”

“Tiny? Oh, please, it’s not tiny.”

Nxlar snarled. “M̵a̸k̴e̸ ̴y̸o̵u̷r̶ ̴d̴e̶a̶l̷,̴ ̴h̶u̵m̴a̷n̷!̵ ̸A̸n̴d ̵y̴o̶u̶ ̷b̸e̷t̶t̷e̸r̸ ̵c̷h̷o̷o̶s̵e̴ ̵y̵o̵u̷r̷ w̷o̵r̷d̸s̶ c̴a̶r̷e̶f̴u̵l̷l̵y̵ - I’̵m̸ ̸n̷o̸t̸ ̸f̴e̴e̴l̸i̸n̶g̸ ̴g̴e̷n̵e̷r̴o̶u̴s̵!”

“Actually, that’s the best part about this.” Alcor couldn’t hide a grin as he stepped closer. “I don’t need a deal at all.”

“W̸h̴a̷t̸?̴”

“I just needed to summon you.” To the demon’s astonishment, Alcor carefully rubbed out a compelling ward with his foot. “There you go, you can go now.”

“You - you don’t want a deal?” Nxlar’s tentacles began to writhe beneath her; the confusion was turning quickly to anger. “ Y̴̤̆ȏ̶̘u̵̥͠ fo̷͍͒r̵̘̊c̸̜͆ḙ̸͂d ̵̔m̴̺͌e̵͙̿ ̴͕̀tŏ̶̥ c̷̣̿ö̸̘́m̸̲͐ȩ̷̓ h̵̢̛e̸̡͐r̷̨͒e ̶f̵̹̂ȯ̶͖r̶̳̋ ̶̧͗ n̶͙̚o̷̯͌t̵̼̓h̴̦͐i̵̢̕n̵̜̿g̸̹͆?̷̧̊”

“Yep!” Alcor gave a cherry wave. “You’ve been so helpful - thanks for coming!”

“̷Yo̷u - g̸o̴r̵e̷ ̴a̶n̵d̸ ̴m̶a̶g̵g̸o̵t̵s̴,̴ ̶I̸’̵m̴ ̴n̵o̵t̶ ̵g̴o̶i̴n̸g̵ ̴a̴n̵y̶w̴h̴e̶r̸e̶ ̸W̶̛̮̙̰͓̙̩̫̗͈̲͂̈́̾͗̐͊̊͒͝͠Į̷̱̖͐̌̏̒̄̓̔͒̄̔̓̏̕̕T̵̯̺͔̰̈́̔͋̿̌̄̅̑̄̾͌͝HO̶̞̼̖̣͚͉̻̻̪͒̇̀͌̆̾̔̂͗́́̈͛͛̕͜͠͝Ṳ̵̢͚͈̳̠͒̕T̶̻̹̠͖͊̇̈̋͜ Ỵ̸͎̟͇̦̳͎͇̳̞̭̤̲̣͜͝ͅO̸̺̖͎̲̲̳̠̖̳̅̑̑Ṳ̸̗̬̐̉͆͘͜͜͠͝R̶̢̗̪͉̲͖͉͉͓̹̾̀̈̈́̃̃͒̕̚͘͠͝ H̵̨̘̩̫̖̻́̀̊̆̒́̓̆̔̀́̍̕͠͝E̴̡̢̥̝͚͉͔͚̦̦͖͎̳͌̏͆̎͑͊͒͝Ā̵̲͇̻̬̜͉̫̹̳̼D̷̨̡̛̰̰̳̫̯̱̜̳̀̈́̌͑̌͛̊̅̍͐̒̑!̶̧̢̡͇͚͇̖̭̯̹̗̫̥͛͑̉͛͌͒͂͊̌̀̔͌̽̕͝͠"̶͝

With a shriek, Nxlar launched herself right at him - she shrieked again as she bounced off, and started battering at the binding circle with her tentacles. Alcor stood at the edge with a cheshire grin; when her assault slowed, he gave a wink, and chuckled as she screamed in frustration and fought even harder.

“You can do that all you want, Nxlar, you’re not gonna get through. You might as well…”

Alcor felt something bubbling up in his throat; he had just a moment to notice it before it came up as a loud, ripping snore. He covered his mouth, but Nxlar paused, her four eyes frowning.

“̴W̶h̸a̴t̴ ̵w̵a̸s̷ t̶h̸a̷t̷?̷”̴

“Nothing!” Alcor waved her away. “Anyway, you should go, so-“

“No, that was a snore. Are you s̶l̶e̴e̴p̵i̶n̸g̸?̴ Or…” she peered closer, at the faint glow in his eyes and the mirror clasped behind his back, and realization dawned. “You’re no human. You’re possessed!”

“I… uh…”

“You’re Alcor!” Nxlar said, and recoiled in fear - but almost as soon as she did, she was leaning forwards again. “I can barely feel you! What happened to you?”

“Uh, nothing!” Alcor felt his face starting to burn. “Nothing, you should go, I-”

“Are you…” Her jaw dropped open, and her tentacles froze in place. “Are you bound?”

“No! N-no, I’m, I just-“

“You are bound, aren’t you? You’re bound to that mirror!” All the anger was gone; Nxlar was grinning with pure glee. “The mighty Dreambender, bound away and pleading for my help… this is the best day of my existence!”

“Pleading for your help? I’m not-!”

“Oh, just wait until the Midway Bar hears about this!”

“No, don’t tell the- ugh.” Alcor dragged a hand down his face. “Okay, fine, I might be kind of slightly bound right now-“

“Kind of? You’re more stuck to that thing than the last piece of flesh on a bone!” She cackled with delight. “Aww, little Alcor, don’t look so embarrassed! Getting bound happens to the best of us - or wait, what am I saying, of course it doesn’t!”

She then collapsed into a fit of laughter. Eyebrows drooping, Alcor picked up the chalk again.

“Okay, cool, we’ve had our fun. I’m just gonna draw a banishment ward now.”

“You’re a little - a little weakling!” Nxlar was wiping yellowed tears from her eyes. “A little human-born weakling, trapped in a mirror! How’d they trap you, did they pwomise to be your fwiend?”

Alcor rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re very funny, Nxlar. Goodbye.”

He finished the ward and pressed a hand to it. Nxlar was still cackling away as it began to glow.

“Sure, I’ll leave!” A tentacle waved as she faded away. “I got such a story to tell at the Midway Bar - why don’t you come down there sometime? Oh, wait, you-“

And she was gone mid-quip, though Alcor didn’t think he was missing much. He pinched his nose and let out a low groan; there goes his reputation. He was never going to hear the end of this after he got unbound, wasn’t he?

Oh… well. That was a problem for another day. Staring down at the thick grimey sludge left behind in the circle, he was glad at least that he got what he wanted.

“Here’s our demonic essence,” he said through the mirror. “I’ll just spread this over the room, and then you can get some well-deserved sleep, okay Piper?” A pause. “Piper?”

No response, and after a moment, another snore broke through. Oh, she was out , and he didn’t blame her. He could feel her scattered dreams, her flashes of fear as the dangers replayed themselves in her mind… Alcor made a face, and touched the mirror to her forehead. He wondered if he could still do this. Concentrating, he sent a pulse of his power through the mirror, and into her mind.

He felt her dreams settle down, felt the edges smooth out into a soft, pleasant grey, and he smiled. Good. It was the least he could do for her. And this body was exhausted as well - he just had one thing left to do, and then he’d let it rest.

There were a couple plastic cups over by the motel sink, and Alcor grabbed them and started scooping as much sludge into them as he could fit. It was thick, disgusting ooze, and he shuddered as he stuck his hand into one. He started painting along the baseboard, moving beds and tables that got in the way, leaving a black, smelly continuous line through the entire room.

Once that was done, he stepped back, careful not to wipe his forehead. There. The angel wouldn’t be able to maintain a consistent hold on Mag in this room; if it was trying to keep him in the dark, it wouldn’t come in.

His face tightened. Mag… he was going to find a way to reach him. But for now, he couldn’t help him. He could only help Piper, and he swore, he was going to find a way to get her out of this mess.

He finally walked her body over to the bed, lay her down on the mattress, and pulled the covers over her body. He kept a hold on the mirror as he propped it up on the other pillow, adjusting his view until he could keep watch on the door.

“Goodnight,” He said, softly, and then he closed her eyes.

His own stayed open, a soft yellow glow shining in the darkness.

______________________________________________________________

It was a cultist. It was a cultist.

That was the first thing running through Mag’s mind as he came to. The wave of agony that crashed over him; everything, everything hurt. His ribs felt broken, he couldn’t breathe through his nose, he tried to move his arm and felt such a spike of pain it made him sick to his stomach - oh, that was dislocated. Ow. Ow.

“Oh my stars!”

Bright headlights were torture to his pounding head. Through his swimming eyes, he saw a silhouetted figure approaching him.

“Are you- are you okay?!” He watched them cup their hands over their mouth. “Oh my… d-don’t move, dude, I’ll… I’ll call an ambulance! Hold on!”

An ambulance, shit. Mag gritted his teeth, and dragged himself forward. Every movement was a herculean effort, and he could feel the little pebbles of the tarmac scraping themselves along raw and shredded skin. A car on the highway zoomed past so close to him - he needed to get out of here. He needed to get out of here now. Come on, he needed to heal!

“H-hello, 911? Yes! Yes, oh my stars! I-I found a man on the highway! He’s really hurt, you gotta send someone quick!”

It came slowly, reluctantly. Mag squeezed his eyes shut as his shoulder snapped back into place; there was a pop in his chest as his rib reset itself. He got to his knees, and the tattered rags of his clothes hung loosely from him as he got his feet underneath him.

“Y-yeah, I’m on the 101, exit… Oh, I don’t know!” The man had his back to Mag, peering desperately into the darkness as he approached. “I-I don’t, maybe I can drive to find the nearest one? O-or should I stay with him, he really needs help! I-I can…”

Mag’s foot scraped on the tarmac, and the man glanced back - glanced, and then turned around with wide, horrified eyes.

“I-I can…” His eyes traced up, up the filthy orange prison jumpsuit, all the way up to meet Mag’s eyes. He backed up against his car. “I… I…”

Mag could hear the 911 operator still talking in his ear. He reached forwards, plucked the phone out of his hands, dropped it to the ground and stepped on it.

“Sorry, man.” Mag said, and tried the car’s handle; it swung open. “And sorry about this, too. It’s a bad day for both of us, eh?”

Then he squeezed himself into the car and started the engine; the man, standing frozen in front of the headlights, quickly scampered out of the way. Stepping on the accelerator, Mag sped up on the shoulder before merging onto the highway. Hair was in his eyes - he shoved it back, then put two hands on the wheel and leaned forward.

“Come on,” he muttered. “Can’t lose her now. Hold on, Piper.”

His hands tightened on the wheel - tightened on the gun pointed at-

It was a cultist.

That voice… his voice, but not his words, he knew. And the memory that flashed in his mind now, the gun pointed at a hooded figure with a knife, it was blurry, surreal.

It wasn’t his own, he knew. The angel altered his memories sometimes; there were things it knew he couldn’t handle, things he could sleep better at night without. It knew what was best for him.

It was a cultist.

All he had to do was trust it, and it’d keep him safe.

It was a cultist.

It’d keep his family safe.

It was a cultist.

It’d show him how to bind Alcor away, and they’d work together to dismantle every sick cult that tore families like his apart, to make a world where what happened to Scarlett would never, ever happen again.

It was a cultist.

He didn’t need to think. He didn’t need to feel. He just had to give himself over, give himself completely, let himself become a hammer to be wielded, an instrument through which the angel could reach into the world and wipe away the darkness wherever it existed.

It was a cultist.

He didn’t need to think, and that was good, really. He wasn’t a smart guy - he never had been. He was a warm, mortal body, and that was all he needed to be. He just needed to trust in the angel, and everything would turn out okay.

It was a cultist.

He just needed to trust the angel. It knew what it was doing. It knew what it was doing.

…

Why was that giving him a pit in his stomach?

Mag grimaced; he could feel his arm pulsing. A cold presence was pushing itself into his mind, pushing him to the side. He closed his eyes, letting him swallow him up, and he thought no longer.

Glowing eyes opened in his place, and peered into the darkness.

There was a motel coming up on the side - the sign read ‘COZY JOE’S CHEAP MOTEL ROOMS’. It looked at the sign, looked at the long, squat building just off the side of the highway.

It looked… and it drove on.

#transcendence au #toothwrites #magnus wright #Nxlar the Antithetical #mizar #alcor the dreambender

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oasisdew · 1 year

Text

Contextualizing Akihiko Kaji's 'Spiraling Era'

Falling in love with Haruki and the desire for him that came with it was the reason why Akihiko was spiraling hard after code 11. There are some pretty hard to ignore insinuations about this in the following chapters, the whole vol 3 & 4, let me break em down one by one. 👇🏽

We've seen Akihiko casually touching Haruki, especially his hair, from the moment given started, let's not forget that code 2 cover page is them in a very suggestive pose. So what Kizu's intent was with them was pretty clear from the start.

But it was kept vague until code 10. In code 10 we see Akihiko following Haruki like a lost puppy after Mafuyu's guitar string broke. And we got this sexually charged scene between them where we all were probably cheering for them to just 'kiss'.

This was the first time Ugetsu and Haruki were under the same roof so that explains why Akihiko wanted to be so close to Haruki, but more than that it explains why he wanted to feel a bit powerful by teasing Haruki who reciprocated his feelings (because) being around Ugetsu was unnerving and anxiety inducing for him, as is wont to be around one's abuser.

(Refer to these threads 👇🏽

————————

Anyways… Akihiko was aware of his feelings for Haruki during this time. He couldn't fully recognise it for what it was because of his circumstances but subconsciously he knew. Which was why we got this panel of Haruki looking back and smiling at him with the words "I am in love" etched from his view point during the first performance (like come on! 😭).

And then we got Yayoi confirming it, that she realised the same thing during this performance too, that Akihiko was indeed in love with Haruki. (which finally prompted her to give up on him)

So this was a vital point in AkiHaru budding romance, Akihiko finally somehow realizing his own feelings for Haruki which was followed by him knowing he can't have him, and probably denying the love he felt for Haruki too, or trying to reduce it to only desire or body because that's all he knew or came to think himself as.

(We got the daara daara flirting scene after the performance and Akihiko wanting to do Haruki's hair) But the most important scene during the early chapters after code 11 was the scene from code 13 where Haruki was taking pictures of a sleeping Akihiko and then wishing loudly that he had a girlfriend.

The angle of this panel is very important as the case with given is most of the time. We don't get to see Akihiko at all. We don't know if he was actually asleep or not. There's a chance that he was awake, and knew what was going on. It's kept vague on purpose.

NOW, think of this from Akihiko's point of view. Someone who always flirts back when you do, someone who is taking pics of your sleeping face exclaims loudly that they want a girlfriend insinuating that they are sexually frustrated and your pictures are just their spank bank but they don't want a relationship with you at all.

Combined with how he was treated in his last relationship and generally by most people, how he must had felt. :(

After this, we got Akihiko hooking up with an unnamed random woman and being caught by Mafuyu in code 15. This woman's hair is long and blond, very closely resembling Haruki's hair. And when he kissed this woman he touched her hair tenderly.

(These are all very subtle choices made on Kizu's part)

Then we got Mafuyu even calling him out on not actually getting mellowed out as Haruki had suggested but only keeping up a front before Haruki. And we got Akihiko smiling painfully at this. Now, this gives us pause.

Akihiko neither accepted nor denied Mafuyu's allegations. It could very well be that he actually really stopped fooling around with women because being around Haruki gave him a sense of stability. But after the realization that he was in love with Haruki while Haruki actually didn't want to do anything with him he went back to his previous ways and started choosing women who resembled Haruki in a feat to get Haruki out of his system.

(Remember in code 19 Haruki himself said that Akihiko seemed like he was back to his old self, not only Haruki, even Take Chan noticed that too as is suggested in code 18, so it's probable that Akihiko was trying to quench the desire he felt for Haruki by hooking up with whoever but it wasn't really helping him so he was spiraling pretty hard).

The next chapter(c16) Ugetsu came back and Akihiko hooked up with him too. And this part is VERY interesting. If we ignore Mafuyu's monologue which is projection on his part, then there's only Ugetsu talking, smiling, laughing, making jokes, mocking here, Akihiko is eerily silent. Ugetsu made a sexual joke, and Akihiko reacted to it sharply, as if he snapped.

We know from Akihiko's monologue from code 20 that Ugetsu coming back from tour generally meant they were going to hook up. But this is probably not how it usually happened. It probably needed a bit more coaxing on Ugetsu's part to get a reaction out of Akihiko.

Remember Ugetsu was startled by Akihiko's reaction here. Akihiko was rough with him. He grabbed Ugetsu's face roughly,

(this face grab is important methinks) and went on it almost mechanically. Ugetsu was the one trying to get a reaction out of Akihiko and failing. I think if we contextualize this scene, it's pretty safe to say that Akihiko snapped here and went straight to sex because 1) He knew what their routine was by this time. He knew what Ugetsu wanted and he didn't want to drag things on, but more importantly, 2) he was sexually frustrated with his desire for Haruki and at the end of his rope, hooking up with long haired blondes didn't work, so he tried doing it with Ugetsu. because Ugetsu was a male, was available and allegedly Akihiko was in love with him.

This theory can be further supported by the happenings of the next chapter. Namely, the car scene. This is just the day after the night AkiUge hooked up. Akihiko went to meet Haruki somehow happily (probably because he thought having sex with Ugetsu would've been enough for him to control himself around Haruki) but then, this happened. He went to grab Haruki's face here, reminiscent of how he grabbed Ugetsu's face the night before, but didn't in the end. Because he couldn't, firstly he couldn't ruin the friendship he had with Haruki, secondly, sex had become something dirty for him and he couldn't sully Haruki like that. (What prompted this reaction in Akihiko are so different in Ugetsu and Haruki's case too, Ugetsu bragging that he was so good that would've made Aki hard vs Haruki complaining that he wasn't good enough for anything! But ultimately, Ugetsu's bragging meant nothing, he was just available for Akihiko while for Haruki, it's what Aki said verbally, “everyone wanted Haruki”, everyone here being Akihiko himself, but I digress)

So he restrained himself from touching Haruki here, even Haruki noticed the palpable tension inside the car and freaked out and Akihiko didn't know how to control himself anymore around Haruki.

It was getting harder for him. Hooking up with Ugetsu didn't work either so he went back to hooking up with another long haired blonde, looking bored while he was getting a bj and then taking Haruki's call in the middle of it, probably at the end of his rope already and trying to see if Haruki's voice did something for him getting off, which probably happened.

Seeing that, this panel focusing on Akihiko touching this unnamed girl's hair while talking to Haruki, and the girl suddenly moaning, probably hinting that Akihiko finally did get aroused enough after hearing Haruki's voice.

So that kinda did indicate that the gender of his partner or the hair that he was so fascinated with didn't actually matter to him, he was very specifically yearning for a single person, body and soul, who just happened to be his only real friend, his one comfort person and with whom he couldn't risk his relationship with the most in the entire world.

He was STRESSING!

So then he went on a rampage. He went to Ugetsu first because he needed to break something there first. The one source of his torments. And then he went to Haruki's.

Reminder that the thing that set him off was the word 'girlfriend', the word he probably tormented himself with since the day Haruki mentioned wanting one.

That word had become triggering for Akihiko. And it triggered something in him alright.

#given #akiharu #akihiko kaji #haruki nakayama #given manga #given meta #meta

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copias-sewer-rat · 1 year

Text

THE BLOOD DROPPING FROM THE DARK ROSE IS ALWAYS THE SWEETEST

How can a place feel like a home after only one day?

This monster has almost 10.5K words. I have never written so much for a chapter… wow. NSFW +18 minors DNI!!

Warning of probably bad translated Italian, I am so sorry. Kudos to Reverso Context I guess for the translations.

> Tags: Female oral receiving, p in v, a bit of sub Copia but also sometimes dom (you will see), unprotected sex, female masturbation.

>read on Ao3<

>my masterlist<

PART 1|PART 2|PART 3|PART 4|PART 5

Enjoy!

V. SWEET DREAMS (ARE MADE OF THIS)

You woke to the sound of birds singing on Thursday. Well rested and with a very heavy weight on top of you. Copia was snoring like a cartoon character —kinda like ‘sho-mimimimi’— and it made you chuckle. You weren’t so subtle with your amusement as Copia stirred awake to your laughter.

“Buongiorno, colombella mia (good morning my little pigeon). Something the matter?” Copia spoke with a deep morning voice that made your stomach flutter.

“Not much… You snore funny, like a Scooby-Doo character.” You confessed, nudging yourself closer to his chest.

“Well, at least it made you laugh… even if it is a bit embarrassing.” Copia blushed.

“Actually, I think it is cute, very cute in fact, the cutt-” Suddenly, Copia’s lips were on top of yours, kissing you hungrily and you kissed back, not caring about your morning breath. Copia brushed his tongue against your lips and you let him in without protest. Your tongues danced and explored each other’s mouths so deliciously that you could have died happily there and then on his arms.

You made out for a few minutes until you were out of air. Copia gave you a small kiss to your temple and then rested his head on the pillow.

“Cara, now I remember that forgot to tell you something…” You looked up, your forehead brushing Copia’s chin.

“Yeah?”

“Two things actually, pretty important.” You nodded, a bit worried that it had to do with Tebbit. “The first is that the pigeons are perfectly fine and content. Actually, I was checking on them when your friend Sam called me.” You hid your face on Copia’s neck, not wanting to remember the previous day in the slightest. However, you were happy to hear that the little birds were doing ok. At least someone was.

“And the other thing?” Copia looked at you with a warm smile, rays of sun hitting his face making him look almost ethereal.

“I forgot to invite you to tomorrow’s concert, how silly of me. Will you come?” You stood silent for a moment, afraid of making the wrong decision. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, you were eager to hear Copia sing live, to experience a Ghost ritual, but there was also the unavoidable presence of the unknown danger. If Tebbit tried to do anything against the church, it would probably be happening during the concert. Despite that, you trusted Copia with all you heart, that was all that mattered for now. Maybe your heart was clouding your mind. Sorry Matty.

“Of course I will, you silly.” You laughed, trying not to show your worry, but Copia frowned.

“What is it? You are not being truthful, cara. I can see it.” You cursed his sixth sense of whatever the heck was that he had that could read you like an open book.

“I am just worried about Tebbit. There is a big possibility that he will try to hurt you during the concert. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you Copia, please. Just…” If he truly could know your thoughts, he gave you the clearest proof in that precise moment.

“I promise that everything will be fine. I promise that you and I and everyone there will be safe. I promise that I won’t let that nasty priest get close to you.” He chanted like a mantra while holding your hands in his. His eyes were shinning with the morning light, contrasting his dark eye makeup with a truthfulness behind his words that made your heart ache. You gently smiled, touching his nose with your finger, just a tiny bop.

“I know… you precious little rat lover.” He laughed at the nickname.

“Rat lover, that I am, I cannot say I am not, very proud of it actually. Now… little, I am far from that, cara.” Copia said with a lustful tone that made your core ache in need and your cheeks flush. “Now that I think about it…“ Copia pondered “I will need to introduce you to my adorable cheese-lovers.” He added without even expanding on his previous comment, making you all flustered and bothered, just like he wanted. Cardinal Copia was an evil man in some ways you had decided then and there, but you liked that about him. It made you think of all the ways he could make you feel like that afterwards, all bothered and flustered and needy just for him. You would surely enjoy and hate it all at the same time. “We will need to leave the introductions for another time, though. We both have things to do.”

“Sure…” You exhaled, too comfortable in his arms to even dare to move.

“I need to get back to my room and get ready for the day. I recommend you do the same. You have clean clothes and a shower you can use through that door.” Copia explained, pointing to the other door in the room that wasn’t the exit. Nonetheless, his explanation wasn’t only for you, it was a conscious reminder for him as well. A plea for him to remember that he had a schedule to follow, even if it was the last thing he wanted to follow in that moment, following you into your need, your lust… that was the only thing he wanted to do. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice.

“Before that, I wanted to ask you something…” Since yesterday, there had been something bugging you. As Matty said, you could not trust Copia completely until he told you the whole truth. Now it was time for him to prove to you that he was being truthful. “Yesterday, when I went to get the flowers with your ‘assistants’, they mentioned something that made me worry a bit, something about having been chosen… by you.” Copia’s face suddenly tensed, all the wires on his mind running a mile per hour trying to find an answer that would satisfy you.

“I will need to talk to those maledetti demoni (fucking ghouls). Si, it is true, I haven’t told you something but… will you allow me until the end of the day to think about how to tell you? It is nothing bad, I promise, but I need to come up with the right words.” You nodded, a bit conflicted. He was really hiding something from you, his real intentions perhaps. Nonetheless, Copia still wanted to explain himself and that was more than the people you were used to did so you were willing to give him the chance. “I can tell you over dinner, if you will have me.” Copia offered and you exhaled in jokingly exasperation.

“Yeah, sure. But I don’t know where anywhere is in this… Ministry? You will have to come and fetch me from… I don’t even know where I will be working today.” You laughed and motioned exaggeratedly trying not to hit Copia with your movements.

“Vero (true), you first take a good shower and get ready, someone will come to pick you up.” Copia spoke, reluctantly getting up from the bed, looking back at your laying form with puppy eyes. For sure he was hopping that you would tell him to come back to it, but both of you really needed a shower.

“Okie dokie, handsome. I will see you later then.” You flirted with a wink and you swore you saw some steam come out of Copia’s already red ears.

“Y-yeah. Have a very good morning, cara. I will be hard! I MEAN I WILL WORK HARD!” You laughed at his antics, still on the bed, so deliciously spread before him. He damned himself for having duties and responsibilities. “BYE!” He said in a very loud tone as he exited the room, closing the door with a very loud crash as very quick steps, almost like running, followed.

————

You got ready, loving the warmth of the shower and how it relieved your aching muscles. Under the water your thoughts were going to Tebbit again. He plagued your mind like a computer virus, infecting each and every thought and feeling. You were not willing to let him win so instead of chasing those horrible thoughts you decided to lead your mind towards thoughts about Copia. You thought about how soft his lips were, how his moustache tickledqll those places where he had left kisses on your skin. About how silly and at the same time caring he could be, about the warmth of his body and how his dick would feel inside of you, pulsing as he would come crying your name. About how his chest hairs -you assumed he had of those - would travel all the way to his lower area, about how his tummy would press on your back while he would thrust in and out of you in a rhythmic and blissful motion while you drained your moans on a pillow. About how he would praise you and leave possessive marks on your skin, making you only his, protected from anyone else, protected from all harm.

Luckily for you, the shower head was detachable because you couldn’t take it any longer. You pressed the hot stream of water to your core and it hit all the spots you thought Copia would hit with his fingers, his tongue and lastly with his cock. The need inside of you grew quickly and in a matter of minutes you were undone with wobbly knees and whispering Copia’s name, all sound drained and muted by that of water coming from the shower head. You could barely stand, the pressure and numbness on your bud too much to think straight for a bit.

When you got back to your senses you realized what had just happened, you just came thinking of Copia… — Would that count as praising Satan? He is a member of his church after all— You thought, giggling a bit. What had transpired would be a secret. Maybe you could share it with Copia if the explanations he would later provide were of your liking, you hadn’t decided yet. He would certainly like that, for sure.

Out of the shower you dressed with the clothes that had been provided: a pair of black leggings, white slacks and a black shirt that said VVLGARI. When you put on the shirt you felt as if it had been recently washed, but you also noticed that it was a very well loved shirt. It had been stretched on the collar and it had some food stains that were obviously impossible to get out. Nonetheless, putting it on it gave you a sense of comfort. You would ask later if you could keep it.

————

Just as you were finishing drying your hair there was a loud knock on the door, probably it was that person that Copia had told you that would come and fetch you.

You opened the door to encounter an old man with skull make up, something that startled you a bit. The stranger looked briefly at your shirt and smiled warmly, that calmed you down. The old man was certainly a sight to behold, he had long platinum hair which was tucked in a ponytail and he wore some kind of work outfit with overalls and water boots. Despite his age and looks you could tell that he was a handsome fellow.

“Boungiorno, Miss Claire. My name is Primo Emeritus, I will be escorting and helping you this morning.” The man that had introduced himself as Primo gave you a little nod to salute you, that is when you realised that he had the same mismatched gaze as Copia.

“Good morning, it is a pleasure to meet you.” You greeted back.

“The pleasure is all mine. Shall we go then?” He asked.

“Certainly!” You hastily grabbed your trusty notebook, closed the door behind you and followed the old man.

There was silence between you two for a bit. Primo Emeritus seemed like nice person but you had no idea where to begin a conversation with a man like him. You opted to stick to the facts.

“I assume that you will be the one helping me with the flower arrangement?” Primo looked at you briefly without stopping his march.

“Yes, indeed. After my retirement I picked up gardening as a hobby. After a few years I can say that I have something of a green thumb.” You laughed at the comment —What a nice old man— You thought, and your mind went instantly to Matty. You needed to text him after, as well as to Sam. They were probably worried sick about you.

“It is a very nice hobby to have, pretty rewarding too. I have always loved flowers…” You stopped talking suddenly. Some siblings were coming your way and you didn’t want them to overhear your conversation so you kept quiet while Primo gave you a confused look. There was a feeling of displacement inside you when they greeted Primo with the warmest of smiles, but said nothing to you. Primo then understood your behaviour.

“What kind of manners are those?” Primo questioned, stopping in his tracks, making siblings tremble at his loud tone. “Greet our guest! We are polite in this church, siblings…” The group of siblings offered their salutations to you with a tone of regret and you laughed it off saying that it did not matter, but that you appreciated it. After a lot of apologies you continued on your way with Primo. That he had put the spotlight over you wasn’t a bother, you were instead thankful that he had noticed your struggle without you even saying a thing to him. No word was exchanged between the two of you until you reached you destination, but Primo didn’t care because he was instead met with a content smile adorning your lips.

————

The place that had been chosen to complete the flowery task was a very Gothic-like greenhouse. It was framed by a very beautiful black metal which accentuated the structure’s height and pointy towers, feeling almost like a church.

“Welcome to my Garden of Nede…” Primo smiled.

“That is just Eden spelled backwards.” You teased.

“Well, here in the Satanic Church we are not as original as some might presume. We just like to mock Christians a bit. It is just a name though…” Primo explained as he opened the door to the building for you.

The greenhouse was also beautiful on the inside. The black contrasted with the greens of the plants and the browns of some wooden pillars that held the weight of the building. In the middle of it all, you observed the flowers you had so carefully chosen to fulfill Copia’s request. They were still intact, which was a blessing considering how much time they had spent traveling.

“When they arrived here yesterday the flowers looked a bit frail so I gave them some of my most nutritious soil and fertiliser. Hope you don’t mind.” Primo explained, kneeling down slowly and feeling the petals on his gloved fingers.

“Oh, of course not. Anything to keep them alive longer. They even look better than when I picked them up. I must ask you for that fertiliser recipe! It would certainly help me a lot.”

“Of course! Whatever you might need. About that, please tell me your plans about this flower arrangement and how might I be of assistance to you.” You nodded and handed him the notebook with your notes and sketches.

Primo inspected the little book, giving little nods as he read. At certain moments he got the book closer to his face, he probably needed glasses you thought. After finishing his thorough inspection of your plans he gestured for you to follow him. He led you to a big wooden table with some cute wooden green chairs, like those you find in cottages in the middle of the Highlands. You sat on one of the chairs and Primo did the same, then he spoke again.

“You have a very ambitious project ahead, it is best that we get comfortable. Would you like something to drink or a snack?”

“I haven’t had breakfast so a coffee would be absolutely delicious.”

“How do you take it?” You blushed a bit to the question.

“Em, warm coffee, cold milk, no sugar…”

“Really? My fratello takes it the same way…” You arched an eyebrow, questioning what he meant.

“Brother?”

“Yes, Cardinal Copia is my half-brother. I have two other brothers…” Then, suddenly, a light bulb turned on in your mind.

“You then are one of the previous singers of Ghost?! Copia mentioned you when he told me about the band.” You excitedly commented.

“Si, we picked up the project after our father retired. I was the first of us to carry on with the legacy. That seems like eons ago now.” Primo said with a tone of sadness and melancholy. You could see in his eyes that he missed it, he missed the project, he missed performing and making everyone sing and dance to his music. That needed to be left behind but now he had his plants. “Well”— Primo exhaled after a long silence “I will go ask one of the ghouls for that coffee and a tea for me. I will be right back.”

You were left there, alone amongst the flowers. You felt at peace, all the aromas and the warmth were evolving you like a warm blanket. It was as if in another life you had been a flower, delicate and beautiful, until someone had come and had plucked all your petals, making you wither and incapable of love. It had taken time to get your petals back, a lot of effort and time, but some of the petals were starting to grow anew. There were people out there that treated you with care and compassion, that was what made you flourish again into a beautiful flower, a rose you decided, because roses also have thorns. There was beauty to you but also danger, you didn’t let a lot of people get close to you, not many knew your true self. Those injured in the way bled before your eyes, ever regretting trying to get to know you, but you also bleed, even if they didn’t see it.

Primo came back, you spotted him from the corner of your eye. You dreaded to move as a tear was beginning to form in the corner of your eye, waiting for a sudden move to fall.

“It will take a bit, the kitchen was already closed but I still have some authority around here.” He showed off and you smiled, quickly removing the already formed tear making it look as if something had gotten into your eye.

“Thank you. You are all so nice around here.” Primo bitterly smiled.

“Well, we do still have manners if that is what you are implying. Not many people nowadays do, that is true. Shall we begin then?”

“Sure!” You responded with a nod, agreeing with his statement.

You worked perfectly together. Primo was delicate and skilled, putting together the flowers and leaves with an incomparable care. He truly loved plants. Your plans were followed to perfection and soon you had half of the first arrangement done. Just when you decided to take a break a tall and imposing man with skeleton makeup entered the greenhouse carrying two mugs, one of them steaming hot.

-“Fratello! They forgot to bring you the drinks. Tell me who you ordered them to and I will make sure to reprimand them.” The menacing man spoke. — He said fratello again…—

“Non preoccuparti (don’t bother), I am glad that you brought them instead, Secondo. I can introduce you to our guest now that you are here.” Primo explained. “This is Claire, she has been tasked with making the floral arrangement Copia ordered for tomorrow’s ritual. Claire, this is my brother, Secondo Emeritus.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!” You smiled at him. Secondo placed the cups on the wooden table with care and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips just as Copia had done to you a few times before.

“The pleasure is all mine, piccolo fiore (little flower).” Secondo said and it made you blush. —How come the men of this family are all so flirtatious?— You wondered.

“Fratello, please.” Primo looked to Secondo raising his brow and Secondo let go of your hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Secondo responded with a knowing glance to his brother. You picked up the coffee mug and gave it a sip. “So, Claire… What are your intentions with my little brother?” You spitted out the coffee at the question.

“SECONDO!” Primo shouted, scolding him. Secondo just laughed at your reaction, getting all the answers he wanted with just a simple and quite disgusting action. Your face turned red and all words escaped your brain. A full on blue screen. “Leave her be, you are such a busybody! You only want to tease to then tell to your wife!” Secondo looked offended, but it seemed like Primo had hit the jackpot.

“And you are such a goody-two-shoes, fratello. Sometimes it feels impossible that we come from the same father. And no, I wasn’t going to tell Marzia, I was going to tell Terzo. He has been asking me about it all freaking week, it is driving me insane.” Secondo explained but just in that instant the door to the greenhouse opened again.

“You are such a fottuto stronzo, fratello (fucking asshole, brother)! Outing me like that?! I feel betrayed. I just wanted to know.” A third man with skeleton makeup spoke.

“You could have asked yourself, you moron!” Secondo spat back to the new member of the conversation. Was that how it felt to have a real family? —you wondered— People that you get to speak about your concerns and worries, to then be comforted and laugh it all off together? Honestly, it seemed like the greatest feeling in the world.

“I just worry about him! He has been so out of it these past few months that it was painful!” The last man to enter was probably the final brother you needed to meet. He had it all, the flirtatious looks, the attitude and the skull makeup. He was beautiful. His brothers were handsome but he had an ethereal beauty to him, like a fallen angel. He noticed you eyeing him because he gave you a cheeky wink. “My name is Terzo, cara, no need to advert your gaze, I don’t charge a single cent. This is all free.” He said gesturing to his body and it made you feel self conscious but you said nothing in return, your cheeks now red with embarrassment.“As it seems that the cat has eaten your tongue, I will take my shot and ask you something and maybe that will help you loosen up… Cara, do you like Copia?” You blushed even more. The peaceful moment of making a flower arrangement had deranged into an full-on interrogatory.

“I-” You only said a syllable but all three of the Emeritus brothers turned to look at you with curiosity. “I do like him.” There it was, the resolution they wanted from you. “He is a very nice person, a bit silly but also caring” Your gaze went to your feet. “He makes me feel seen and loved… Even though I haven’t known him for long, there is a feeling inside of me telling me that I need to keep him in my life, in any way possible. I don’t want to lose him. It is like we are meant to be…” The confession came out quickly, words mixing together, but the message was clear to them, you did care about their little fratello.

“Bene! I trust you, cara… Please don’t hurt Copia, he actually responds better to positive stimuli… If you get want I mean.” Terzo spoke and you hid your face in your hands, redder than you had ever been until that moment.

“Idiota (idiot), if you got nothing better to do than interrupting us, then take a sit and start helping.” Primo said, looking at his brothers with a disappointed stare.

“Va bene (ok)…” Both Secondo and Terzo exhaled at the same time and then he seated at the table. You laughed at the fact that they were so easy manipulated by their older brother.

Once everyone was ready you began to explain with a lot of detail what you wanted them to do. How the colours coordinated and what was the best way to connect the stems and leaves. It took Secondo a couple of tries to get it but Terzo was a natural, he had very skilled fingers but you refused to ask where he had acquired such skill. The four of you spent the whole day with the arrangement but food was brought to you at lunchtime so you could get a little break. The brothers were extremely nice to you, they told you about their respective eras as the front men for Ghost, what they liked to do and what they missed. You wondered if Copia would feel the same once is time as the head of Ghost was up. Judging by his brother’s explanations, it was a very demanding job but it also was quite addicting. When their time was up, the Emeritus brothers had to find something else to do, something to spend their days while the next brother in line enjoyed the spotlight. For Primo was gardening, Secondo confessed to have picked up woodcarving as a hobby—a nice distraction while his wife knitted— and Terzo was very fond of cooking.

“And what is your favourite animal, piccolina (little one)?” Secondo suddenly asked.

“Pigeons.” You responded. “I actually have to see a nest that Copia told me was in one of your trees. He hasn’t taken me to see it yet, though.” Secondo only hummed in acknowledgment. “What about you?” You asked back, trying to keep the conversation going.

“It will sound stereotypical, but I really like goats. They are chaotic sons of bitches but so very cute.” You and the two other brothers chuckled.

“Oh, Terzo!” You exclaimed and he hummed, very focused on his task. “I really like Cirice! I think that is one of yours? I haven’t heard to all your songs guys, but for now that is my favourite I think!” Terzo raised his head to look at you and smiled widely at the compliment.

“Thank you, cara. I won a Grammy for that album…” Terzo commented and Second exhaled in exasperation.

“Here we go again…”

————

You had a very pleasant afternoon, putting the last finishing details to the arrangement. However, there were more flowers than anticipated so many of them were left without a purpose. You pondered what to do.

“Maybe you could do something extra for Copia?” Terzo suggested.

“Si, like a bouquet!”Primo exclaimed. “I am sure he would love that.” Your stomach fluttered at the idea. A precious bouquet for a precious person. Maybe that would help thanking Copia for everything he was doing for you.

“It is a great idea, I think there are even more flowers… What if I add a flower crown to the gift?” You suggested Terzo threw his hand at the air with excitement.

“YES! I want to see Copia with a flower crown… and then tease him for the rest of his days about it.”

“I don’t think he would care… He probably will like it.” Added Secondo.

“Maybe… I still want to see it!” Terzo exclaimed and Primo exhaled exasperatedly.

“Claire… by any chance… could you teach me how to do a flower crown? I think it would be a nice present for my wife.” You nodded vigorously, in reality Secondo was a softy, even if his looks suggested otherwise.

The rest of the afternoon was spent making the presents for Copia and an extra one for Secondo’s wife. The final products were two beautiful black flower crowns and an unexpectedly big bouquet with an assortment of all flower colours that you had picked (black, white and red). However, the bouquet was lacking something… a deeper meaning. You raised your concerns to Primo and he absented himself for a few minutes. What he brought back was a box full of forget-me-nots, a beautiful and delicate small blue flower that symbolises remembrance, devotion and true love. You looked at Primo and he nodded. You nodded back.

After a few minutes the bouquet was finished, a mesmerising collection of flowers. The plan was to hand the presents to Copia once the concert was over. You beamed with anticipation and excitement. Would he like them? Would he kiss you passionately in response? You had to wait until the end of the ritual to know.

The sun started to set when a ghoul came to fetch you.

“To dine? Already? I haven’t even changed… I want to look more presentable…” You said.

“Talking about looks… Where did you get that T-shirt cara?” Secondo asked.

“It was with the pile of clothes I was given… There wasn’t any other option. I actually like it a lot, it is very comfortable…” You explained.

“I can imagine… You don’t need to change. Copia will love that you wore his T-shirt…” Terzo added with a smirk.

“W-What?! His T-shirt?! He said nothing of the sort! I thought it was just a spared one form lost and found!” You exclaimed, heat raising to your cheeks once more.

“Yeah, he saw the opportunity I guess. But it is true, you don’t need to change, he will love it. Also, no need to worry about the arrangement and the presents, we will take care of them and carry them to the venue tomorrow.” Primo explained, and you nodded, a little lightheaded. “Go and have a fantastic dinner, I am sure our fratello has prepared something wonderful.” He concluded.

“Yeah, ok… I sure will. Will I see you tomorrow?” You asked the brothers. They looked at each other in silent reunion.

“We will figure something out, ok cara?” Terzo said and the other two nodded in affirmation. You had never felt so at home as you had done with them that day, it was life changing. Their constant laughs and their picking at each other, it was something straight out of a family movie — even if the subjects did not look family friendly— and you wanted to be part of something like that so badly… Maybe now you could have it, maybe you could stay with them. If they needed more flowers, if they needed anything from you… you could stay.

Saying your goodbyes to the Emeritus brothers you followed the ghoul, or better said ghoulette. Her name was Cumulus. She was voluptuously gorgeous and graceful, the silver mask also giving her an air of mystery — as it did for all the rest of the ghouls—. Before you went to the dinner, you asked if you could go back to your room to make a couple of calls. Cumulus obliged.

Back to your room your seated on your bed, phone in hand, shaking a bit. You needed to tell them that you were fine, but you dreaded to contact them in case something had happened. Turning on your screen revealed several messages from Sam and a couple dozens of calls from Matty. You decided to call him first.

“Thank goodness! Are you ok?! A customer told me what happened yesterday. I am going to murder that pretentious fucking priest!” His worry and anger brought tears to your eyes but you also smiled at the feeling of feeling cared about.

“Yes, I am ok… I don’t have much time to talk. Just know that I am in a safe place…”

“Can I know where exactly? Just so I know how to reach you in case something happens…” Matty said.

“I am staying with Cardinal Copia, Matty. It was the safest option…” You confessed.

“I don’t like that… I assume you can imagine. If the plans of that nasty priest revolve around destroying that Satanic church, maybe it isn’t the best place to stay, dear.” It was true, but you didn’t have a choice.

“I know… we will figure something out. I am safe for now.”

“I guess. Please keep me updated, ok?”

“Yeah…” you smiled “thank you for worrying, Matty.”

“How couldn’t I? You are like the daughter we never had…” A warm stream of tears descended through your cheeks.

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have said that… even if it is true.” Matty said as a response to hearing your sobs.

“They are happy tears, thank you so much for caring, truthfully.”

“No worries, dear. Take care.”

“You too.”

Giving yourself no time to process the conversation with Matty, you called Sam.

“Jeez, Claire!!! Are you ok?!”

“…yes” you managed to say, some hiccups escaping you as you tried to breath steadily “I am fine now, Sam. Everything is ok.”

“Is that Cardinal treating you ok? When I saw those assistants of his I wasn’t quite sure if I had made the right decision calling him.”

“You did, you did. I am fine. Copia is treating me great, well I haven’t seen him much today, but I had a good time here.”

“I am glad… If ANYTHING happens… If he touches a single hair of your head, I swear…” Heat rose to your cheeks, thinking about what had happened yesterday, and that morning, and what you wanted to do to Copia that night…

“Yeah well, we are both adults…”

“Claire… you didn’t…”

“We didn’t even get to third base, I promise.”

“But you plan to…”

“I guess?”

“CLAIRE, USE PROTECTION!!” She screamed.

“SAM, PLEASE!!” You screamed back. Sam stood silent.

“We will…” You whispered. “I have to go no, I will try to talk to you tomorrow, but it is going to be pretty hectic…”

“Please do, and be careful ok?”

“Yes, thank you so much for caring about me…”

“We have to stick together against assholes… and you are pretty great.” You smiled at that.

“You are pretty great as well. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye Claire…”

You hanged the phone, you feelings stirring in your chest. You had good people in your life. You deserved that love. You were cared for. With new resolve and a swift motion you got up the bed and went straight to the door finding Cumulus there still waiting for you.

“Come on, it’s dinner time.”

————

Cumulus opened the big doors to a private room next to the common dinning hall and then was Copia, seated at the only table in the room. The atmosphere was textbook romantic: red tablecloth, bottle of red wine cooling off with some ice, the only light of the room was that of some lit up black candles and a single red rose adorning the table.

The instant the door opened Copia was already looking at you, he was fully red and you assumed it had to do with you wearing his shirt. He tried to stand up quickly to greet you and he almost feel by stepping on the tablecloth, making the vase with the rose fumble a bit.

“Merda! Scusi… (Shit! Sorry…)” At his almost fall you rushed to get him, trying to avoid him hitting the ground. He luckily steadied himself before your assistance was needed.

“You ok?” You smiled at him. “That was dangerous…”

“Si, I am fine cara. Thank you… Hi!” Copia smiled at you brightly.

“Hi!” You said back, smiling even bigger, your heart filling bigger in your chest. He looked so beautiful in the candlelight… Eyes flickering, dimples on the corners of his mouth, freckles spread all over his face and his hair a bit ruffled after his biretta had fallen because to his unfortunate trip and almost fall.

“Are you hungry?” Copia asked.

“I am positively starving!” He chuckled.

“Then prepare to have the best meal of your life.” Copia took you to the desk and slid the chair for you to sit. You thanked him and he bowed in appreciation. “Did you have a good day, cara?” Copia asked putting a hand under his chin in curiosity once he was seated.

“I did. I met your brothers! They are very kind and a bit flirtatious, but mostly kind…” You answered and some of the colour on Copia’s face drained.

“You did? I mean… of course you did! Did they say anything inappropriate to you? I will have a word with them if that is the case.”

“No, it’s fine, we mostly chatted about ourselves. Oh! And I really like your shirt, your brothers told me it was yours. It is very comfy.” You said hugging yourself for a bit. Copia shifted in his seat with a cough.

“I-I am s-so very glad, cara.” Copia said nothing for a bit, the silence heavy between you two. Just as he was about to speak again a couple of ghouls entered the room carrying tasty looking plates of pasta al pesto.

The dinner was absolutely delectable. Apart from the pasta you also ate a very nice salad with fresh cheese, homemade bread and vanilla panna cotta as a dessert. Copia and you chatted about yourselves during the whole dinner, Copia purposefully avoiding his confession until the last dish. When the panna cotta was completely gone from your plate and you were left with a content slime he started to talk:

“I have been thinking about tomorrow’s concert for a while now, cara. How would we do it, where was it going to take place, how were we going to decorate it… That is when you came in. You see, I knew about you well before we officially met. I assume you remember my assistants, they are what we call here ghouls. Their origins are a bit unorthodox… lets just say that they inhabit a body that has lost its soul. That is how Imet you.” You blinked, trying to focus on everything he was saying, trying to make sense of it. “Sister Imperator insisted that we needed new ghouls and she put me in charge of finding the appropriate bodies. I was talking to a friend of mine at the crematorium and there I saw you, hugging an old man who had lost his wife.” Copia was there when you delivered the funeral ward to Matty? The shock was visible on your face, but you said nothing, allowing Copia to finish his story. “I was entranced by you, by how gentle and thoughtful you were and then I saw the funeral ward and I just knew. You were meant to create the decorations for the concert. It was as if the Dark One had spoken to me, clear as day.” You kept silent, your face unreadable at that point. “I walked in front of your store many, many times after that, trying to build up the courage to enter, but I never could. Each time..” He continued, but suddenly stopped as if he had made a mistake, completely red in the face. “I actually remember a few times that-” Copia stopped there again, a small laugh escaping him. “-that I saw you dancing around your store while you prepared bouquets, sei adorabile e mi sono innamorato di te ancora di più (you are adorable and I fell for you even more).” You looked at him, equal parts enamoured and confused. “In the end I didn’t gather the courage to go in as you can imagine, but I had to do something. That was when I sent the two sisters of sin to book your services. I was so happy when I learned that you had accepted that I couldn’t sleep for two days straight thinking that I would be able to talk to you at last… And now, here we are.” Copia looked at you, waiting for a response.

“I don’t know what to say Copia…” He looked a bit disappointed but also understanding.

“That is okie dokie, just take your time.”

You stayed silent, trying to make sense of everything. Copia’s assistants were basically zombies. Satan had ‘convinced’ him into hiring you. He knew of you for at least two months before you even spoke to him. He had seen you dancing in your store… He also had been truthful and it seemed that he had a crush on you since minute one. At the realization you blushed, deeply. Your face had become a furnace, shinning and ready to cook and egg.

“I-” you started saying and Copia looked at you with big hopeful eyes. “I am not going to lie to you Copia, all this is so out of my comfort zone…” you laughed “but I can see that you are genuine, that you have no malice regarding your feelings towards me. You are just an adorably awkward dork that has feelings for a girl… and that girl might have feelings for the dork as well…” you whispered but you knew that Copia had heard you loud and clear because his face instantly transformed into a beam of happiness and adoration.

“Tesoro mío (my treasure)“ he began, voice strong and steady “I adore you deeply and unconditionally, I am not afraid to tell you anymore! You are the most beautiful rose that these old tired eyes have ever witnessed and… I want to take care of you, make you laugh and make you smile so wide that you forget everything that has ever caused you any pain.” The beating of your heart drained most sounds around you but Copia’s voice was reaching you like thunder and lightning, striking you in place. “And if something hurts you in the future I want to be there next to you to help you back to your feet, to nurse you back to health, to be the shoulder you can lean to cry or to rest, to be the body you can hug whenever you feel tired or drained… I want to be all that for you, cara…” You simply nodded, tears pricking your eyes, you felt so overwhelmingly loved that you could have fainted in that very moment.

Copia rose to his feet and knelt beside you, grabbing your face with both hands.

“Can I kiss you, Claire?” He asked, his eyes glinting with love.

“Y-you s-silly l-little rat man, of c-course.” You managed to say in between sobs.

He reached for you, pulling his body upwards to meet your lips, appreciating the tingly sensation of your lips bruising his, his nose touching yours and his lungs breathing the same air as you did. With eagerness and hunger you cupped his face and closed the gap that existed between your mouths.

You had kissed Copia before, but this was a new type of kiss. He was putting all his feelings to that kiss, the same as you. There was no tongue, no deeper exploration of your mouths. It was not that kind of kiss. It was a kiss that sealed a promise, a promise that Copia was willing to dedicate his life to to fulfill it.

“It is quite late, maybe we should go to bed…” You said after breaking the kiss, eyes still closed and with content look on your face.

“It-it is…” Copia muttered with disappointment. “I should take you to your room, tomorrow is going to be a big day…” The attempt to flirt flew straight over his head.

“Copia… maybe I could sleep in your bed?” You said more directly. Copia froze, beads of sweat forming on his very red face.

Copia led you through the dark stone corridors, going up to what seem almost the last store of the abbey. During the whole journey Copia had stood in front of you, rushing the both of you towards your destination. That wasn’t enough fun for you, you wanted to tease him until he was just a puddle. Revenge for how bothered he had left you that very same morning.

“I- I- I… really?” You nodded to his question and with a quick jump only comparable to that of a child that just got told that there was pizza for dinner, Copia rose to his feet. “YEAH, em I mean, of course, cara…” Copia extended his hand and you took it with excitement.

“You know, I think that what I have enjoyed the most of this Ministry of yours is your showers…” You couldn’t see Copia’s face but you felt his steps slowing down just a bit. “Yeah, the heat is perfect… the pressure too, it hits all the right spots you know…” Copia chocked on his own spit. “It was just the perfect valve for how bothered somebody had left this morning, I had to do something… I just hope that nobody heard me…” You finished with a slutty tone and batting your eyelashes, even if Copia could not see you.

It was too much for him. Still grabbing your had he turned around and pushed you to the nearest wall, pinning your hand over your head and grabbing the other one and putting it over his growing member.

“Satana, what a tease you are, huh? You want me to fuck your pretty little cunt right here in the fucking cold stone walls where anybody could hear how needy you are? Or would you like to wait to get to my room and for me to fuck you senseless over and over again screaming my name?”

You didn’t recognise him at all, his tone was low, his white eye was the only one visible in the darkness of the corridor and his almost hard cock was pressing on your hand. With a little squeeze of your hand and a gulping sound on your part Copia released his grasp.

He put you down just as you arrived to a big mahogany door. The only barrier between you and his bed. Words were again something that you could speak so you did.

“What happened? Did the cat eat your tongue, dolcezza?” You were flabbergasted, glued to the ground. Your knees were shaky and the wetness of your core was becoming even uncomfortable to walk. At your sudden halt Copia decided to pick you up bridal style and carry you to his quarters.

“Can I come… in?” Your words were slow and your tone sensual. Copia’s keys fell to the ground.

“Copia, what are y-” the question couldn’t even leave your mouth. As soon as Copia had opened the door his mouth was on yours, hungry and possessive.

“Satana, sta succedendo davvero? Non essere sciocco e rimetterti in sesto! (Satanas, is it really happening? Don’t be a fool and get it together!)” Copia murmured in Italian while opening the door without looking at you, all his previous confidence gone, embarrassed that he had dropped his keys.

You had no need to ask, but you had the need to be his, to let him do whatever he desired to you. You had dinner but you were already hungry for the second dessert. You hadn’t even crossed the door when you parted in need of air but in Copia’s eyes you found the same hunger, there was also a tint of adoration and an insane amount of lust. His pupils almost covered his irises of how wide they had gotten making him look almost cat-like.

“Please, come on in.” Copia invited with faulty breaths, thoughts racing a mile per hour and heart pounding out of his chest. He could not believe that you were about to be his, he had dreamed about you for months, your face and body blessing his days and nights. His brothers had noticed his daydreaming and his lack of sleep. When he had finally confessed the cause of his ailment? his brothers had been supportive but still careful, warning him about the dangers outside of the congregation and how someone from the outside couldn’t probably be trusted. He had agreed with them then, but on the inside he really didn’t care. For all he cared you could take him to the depths of hell and he would thank you for it.

Shyness overtook you when you stepped into Copia’s room. It was modest but still elegant. The main piece of furniture was without a doubt the bed. It was obvious that Copia liked to sleep well. The bed was a queen size, the frame was a dark brown almost black colour with plenty of details and decorations carved into it. Shinny red sheets covered the mattress and on top there laid so many freaking pillow you almost considered it absurd. He was really a rat man.

Opposite to you, Copia regained his confidence once he entered his room. He was in his domain and he would do anything you ever asked of him. He saw how shy you were, how tiny you had become in that new environment so he decided to start slow.

“Take off your cape” You began, and Copia untangled himself from you, very slowly opening the cape of his cassock and letting it fall to the ground.

“Dolcezza, you are so beautiful” He said grabbing your hand and lacing the other around your waist, pressing himself into your back, almost like a nest “I want to pleasure you,” he chanted kissing your palm “I want to kiss every single inch of skin of your body” he continued by kissing the pulse in your wrist “I want you to feel so loved” he said, leaving kisses all over your arm until he reached your neck “but I also want for you to feel comfortable…” He kissed a spot on the curve of your neck that made you shiver in anticipation. “Could you tell me what to do, cara? I want to follow your instructions. Take the lead, per favore.” He whispered, his lips still on your neck, leaving kisses and tiny bites that for sure would show in the morning. You could only nod to his request. “Vene…”

“Continua (go on)” He said as you turned to look at him.

“Help me with my shoes” You ordered, sitting on your bed. He dropped to the ground and very slowly undid the laces of your sports finally getting your feet out. You groaned at the feeling of his firm hands on your feet. “Now the socks” He grinned, getting his mouth close to them and grabbing the fabric with his teeth, pulling slowly until both your feet were bare. You looked at him with a bit of a weird face.

“I do not have a feet fetish, love. I just want to appreciate every single part of you…” He whispered kissing your ankle this time and you blushed again. He stopped there, massaging your feet, patiently waiting for your next order.

“Take off your shirt” You said with a smile and Copia just nodded. Firstly, he pulled out his collar in one swift motion that made you grind your thighs in need. Then, his gloved fingers worked meticulously on his buttons and you could only marvel at the idea of how they would feel inside you. Would they even fit? The fabric seemed thick but also soft, you were really eager to try.

Once he finished, he pulled the shirt from his pants, he took both of his arms out and the piece of clothing fell delicately to the ground. Copia was left only with a pair of black suit pants and a white undershirt that showed the definition of his muscles and… part of his hairy chest —oh my Satan— A gold chain with an inverted crucifix was the acing on the cake for you, it dangled on top of his pecs and you just wanted to hold it in your mouth while you rode him senseless. Copia looked at you, still patient but now less patient because he felt more naked than you were, something needed to change.

“My pants… take them off…” The petition came of you in fragments, each word slow and at the end you dropped to the bed and lifted your legs for him to have an easier access. Copia got close to you so you opened your legs for him. He positioned himself between your legs and helped you with your pants. At the friction of your pants coming off his dick twitched, feeling it on your exposed skin.

You were left only on his shirt and your underwear. Copia’s eyes widened at the sight with lust as did his half hard cock, pulsing in his pants becoming and a full mast in an instant. His patience was almost gone, the need to touch you growing with each passing second. He practically crawled at you, laying on top of you he kissed every part of exposed skin that he could find.

“Be mine, Claire. You have poised my thoughts, every single second of every day I have thought about you, so please be fucking mine.” He growled when he reached your neck and you moaned for him.

“I am yours, Copia. I need you…” You said with desperation.

“Prove it, dolcezza.” In an instant you took Copia's gloved hand and guided it towards your aching and wet core. He could feel it even through the fabric of his leather gloves and he groaned at the knowledge of you wanting him so badly, as much as he wanted you.

“Sei peccato puro, ti loderò come meriti (you are pure sin, I will praise you like you deserve)” You didn’t understand what he said, but actions certainly speak louder than words.

He trailed down following the path of kisses he had given you on his way up, only this time you felt the fire on his lips and a tingly sensation lingering where he placed them, you were longing for more, almost suffering in anticipation and in need of more contact. Once he was back in between your legs Copia felt like he had found his true calling. You panties were drenched in your juices and the sight made his dick hurt. He parted the fabric with his fingers and took in the sight while also taking a big breath smelling the scent of you. Copia started to kiss you then, just where you wanted, but not how you wanted. The kissed were teasingly slow and almost ghost like, his lips gracing your folds with a small peck each time. You groaned impatiently and he chuckled. He wanted to give everything to you so he obliged, leaving his teasing aside. His kisses became more passionate, his whole face was in your pussy and you were sure that all his lipstick had to be gone at that point. He licked you bottom to top and then presses a fervent kiss to your bud. The motion made you gasp. Then, he went down again, putting his whole tongue in your entrance drinking you like a dying man lost in a desert.

“Please, Copia, more…” You pleaded and he hummed, entering you with one of his fingers. His mouth went back to your clit and his finger worked in and out of you. It felt thick and soft, he heat and juices of your pussy made it so easy for him to move. You were so open for him, taking him so well that he dared to insert a second finger. It was unexpected and you arched your back in pleasure. Copia’s other hand rose from a spot he had found on your leg to your belly, keeping you in place. It was too much for both of you. Copia kept a quick rhythm with his fingers and tongue, circling and kissing your clit. Your felt the tightness building up, something that he also felt around his finger so he continued his praising, humming into you. During the whole ordeal your forearms were covering your face but with the sounds that he was making you threw a hand to his hair and pulled vigorously, making Copia moan. That did it for you, you let yourself loose on his finger and mouth and he drank you fully, ending with a satisfying huff.

“Delizioso, cosi dolce (delicious, so sweet)” Copia said going back to kiss your mouth tasting yourself on his tongue and moustache.

“Copia” You murmured between uneven breaths “more…” Copia looked at you, his fully erect member had been neglected for too long. So, you helped him out of his pants and boxers. He had not lied when he had said that he was big, not only that but he was also thick and had a slight tilt to the left. The time in confinement had made it a dark shade of pink and precum was oozing from it.

“Cara, do you want me to…?” The question died on his lips when you spoke.

“I am on the pill, no worry… and I trust you…”

“I am clean, cara. Just wanted to know what you preferred.” You thanked him for that, but you wanted more, needed more, needed to feel only him. Reassuring him, you took your hands straight to his bare ass, guiding him towards your entrance once more.

Slowly he entered, fitting in you so perfectly that you almost wanted to cry of pure happiness.

“Cazzo (fuck)” Copia said in a whisper. He stretched your walls but stopped at a certain point letting you get used to him. Once you were ready you nodded and he continued pushing until he was buried in the depths of you. He stood there for a while, kissing your lips until you told him to move. He started slow, getting himself out a bit and then pushing in with a swift movement. He repeated the action, each time getting himself more and more out of you to then get deeper and deeper. Once he found a pace that made you shut your eyes he kept it, thrusting with his hips, knees deep in the mattress. To steady yourself you threw your legs on top of him, encircling him also with your arms, going straight for his neck.

You huffed and moaned under him and Copia felt so ablaze that he could have cum just by hearing you. While your mouth was open but your eyes were still shut you felt somethings dangling over your face. Satan had heard your silent prayers, he knew you wanted something in your mouth, so you took it in your and sucked, twirling it around like a lollipop. The taste was metallic so you knew for certain that it had to be the crucifix. In his own bliss, Copia took notice and looked directly to your eyes. As if feeling watched you opened your own and looked at him as well.

Copia’s hair was a mess, as was his makeup but he looked so beautiful, so perfect, so frustrated but also so at peace…

“You are so fucking perfect, Claire.” He said, each thrust more passionate. “And also so dirty, a dirty whore for me. Touching yourself in the shower thinking of me… completely naked, water dripping from your body… and now you are wearing my fucking shirt and you are going to cum wearing my fucking shirt.”

You smiled, wanting to give him something, to push him over the edge. You opened your mouth to show him your work. Copia produced a guttural moan at the sight of his crucifix soaked in your saliva. “Cazzo, fuck, fucking hell…”

After that, Copia’s thrusts became more passionate and erratic, the pace that he had set was long gone. He was chasing both of your releases but he was so close… he needed to wait for you to finish first, to feel you come undone around his cock, milking him into oblivion.

You pressed him harder into you and Copia used his last bits of strength to get to hit every single spot that could make you scream his name.

“C-Copia ah, please, I want- fuck me ah… ah” You moaned.

You needed nothing more, your body shaking in pleasure, feeling so light and happy. You released a breath you did not know you were holding, still lost in your bliss. Copia followed you soon after with his own release, the feeling of your walls pulsing around him too much to hold. He was right, you milked him so good that he almost wanted to die right there and then, inside of you.

“Do it, cara, for me. Do it.” Copia responded, almost out of breath.

You stayed like that for a while, Copia on top of you just like when you awoke that morning, his weight and warmth were a welcome present now that the room was begging to feel cold. He nested his head on your neck, threatening to fall asleep. A few minutes passed and Copia rolled to the side, spent and still breathless. It took a bit for him to get up, but he finally got it done, his back hurting like hell. The concert was going to be painful but he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Copia went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to clean you.

He was delicate with his motions, cleaning his seed from where it has spilled on your thighs. You appreciated the aftercare and gave him a sleepy smile. The need for sleep was winning your desire to talk to Copia, to stay awake and look at him.

Somehow Copia managed to pull the covers of the bed over your body. Very slowly he went under the covers himself, trying not to bother you too much as he could see how tired you truly were. He pulled you against him and you snuggled him for a bit until you found the perfect position. Copia turned out the lights as best as he could and went back to you, caressing your hair and making you fall into a deep sleep.

“Buona note, amore mio (good night, my love).”

————

At that very same moment, not too far away, two men were discussing something in a dark alley.

“Do you think this will work, father?”

“Oh, certainly. God punishes those who strain from his path. Those who are against him must be punished. His hand guides me, my child. I am just a mere too, but God’s tools do not fail. They must atone for their sins with their lives.”

————

It is done woooooo!!! I hoped you enjoyed as always, this has been a challenge for me. I don’t usually write such long chapters, but inspiration overtook me. I am also not very proficient in writing smut so if anything felt weird I am sorry, I need to work on it.

I also know that the female character is more like an OC at this point so I will probably change tags and thinks like that in the near futute.

I will check the grammar and everything tomorrow again, I am very tired.

Thank you so so much for reading and have a good one!

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