#and you were playing piano along w the song on my leg

[c-anguineus]

just sat here thinking abt how you insisted you had no feelings for me but the night before i left nyc you held me for hours and hours

[onlymingyus]

All I Ask of You

pairing; lee jihoon (woozi) x afab reader

genre; smut, toxic (slight)

warnings; fingering in front of a mirror, hand on throat, voice kink, obsession

w/c; 1.1k and some change 

13 days of mars’oween master list - day 7

a/n; if it isn't obvious this is phantom of the opera inspired/based

Jihoon watches you sleep on the bed, candles burning in every corner of the large room illuminating your beautiful form. He can’t help but smile as you hum quietly turning over on the silk like sheets, your angelic face slightly covered by your hair. He remembers watching you on the stage, your voice ringing out into the audience before they all stood and threw roses at your feet. 

He had watched with pride, feeling like the applause had been for him just as much as it had been for you. Your warm cheeks from the attention as you shied away from the crowd was just too enticing. You were so innocent and so perfectly…his. Now he had you exactly where you belonged. 

Jihoon had brought you down here away from them all, hiding you away from all those who wanted to take credit for your glory, his glory. He had made you what you were. You were his biggest triumph. His angel, his everything. 

Turning over onto your back, you stretch slightly before feeling a hand slide across your face pushing your hair from your eyes. “Are you waking for me, angel?” Jihoon watches a smile grace your lips at his voice. “Mmm, yes. How did I get here?” 

You look around, you were in your dressing room after your performance. You had fallen asleep but you didn’t remember Jihoon bringing you here. “I thought you would rest better here, my love.” His fingers move along your jaw as he sits on the bed, the weight shifting so you are closer to him. His eyes traveling from your face along your neck, your chest, the corset tightly bound around your torso. 

“Do you feel well rested?” You nod, your teeth catching your bottom lip, Jihoon’s fingers moving to the ribbons holding the corset tight. He doesn’t loosen them, instead he simply moves his hand down towards your skirt that parted over your hip. “Sit up for me? I want to show you something.” 

Jihoon offers you his hand, taking a step back so that your eye is drawn to his elegant fingers. You can’t help but to smile knowing the magic that those fingers produced when he was sitting at a piano. All the many times he had played for you, either just to listen or to help you strengthen your voice.

Jihoon smirks slightly when you finally place your fingers in his hand so that he can help you sit before moving you towards the end of the bed facing the floor length mirror that he kept half covered most of the time. Today you found no sheet covering it, instead it seemed Jihoon had other plans.

Moving behind you, Jihoon kneels on the bed letting his hand slide your hair from your neck. His lips brushing against your ear as his eyes meet yours in the mirror. “You are so beautiful. I want you to sing for me.” You laugh softly and start to open your mouth, a short note falling from your lips before Jihoon tsks at you. “Not like that. Spread your legs.” 

Your cheeks begin to warm at his words and his touch, Jihoon’s fingers running the length of your corset to your legs where he pulls your skirt apart and up exposing you to him and the mirror. “Wider for me?” His hand rubs along the soft skin of your thigh before he lets out a pleased sound against your ear. “Perfect. 

In the mirror you watch Jihoon’s hand move towards the middle of your legs, your breath quickening before you let out a moan of sheer anticipated arousal causing him to pause. “That…is the song I want to hear.” Your head leaning back on his shoulder, Jihoon smirks against your neck when his fingers finally reach your delicate folds. 

When you close your eyes, you hear a sigh from Jihoon before his hand wraps around your throat tilting your head back up, “Open your eyes and look in the mirror.” His fingers brush against your skin, just barely applying any pressure around your neck while his other hand separates your folds. His index finger slides over your clit making you whine so sweetly as you stare at him in the mirror. 

“You sound so angelic, don’t hold back darling.” You aren’t sure you could be quiet even if you wanted to be when Jihoon slides two of his fingers into you, letting you lean back against his chest. He works slowly, stretching you carefully, his eyes never leaving the mirror. Jihoon groans, his teeth grabbing onto his bottom lip listening to you moan softly. Your hips rolling towards his fingers as your body begs him for more. 

He wanted to give you more, give you everything. You deserved everything because you were everything to him. You were all he had and he deserved you. No one could take you from him because at the end of the day he had created you, at least the you that everyone saw on stage. The stripped down version, the version he watched coming apart for him, moaning like a fallen angel…that was his alone to see. 

Sliding in a third finger, Jihoon tightens his hand around your throat causing you to whine louder. Your hand moves to hold his wrist while the other grips the bedding under you as you feel yourself losing all control you had left. “This is your aria, my love. Sing for me.” 

And you do, your blissful moan fills his ears causing Jihoon to close his eyes as his lips press to your neck. His fingers brushing along your velvet walls as they clench around him while you cum. Jihoon smiles when your hips finally stop moving and you go silent, his hand loosening around your throat. Gentle fingers stroke at your skin before he slips his fingers from your core carefully bringing them to his mouth to suck clean as you watch in the mirror. 

“Jihoon…” He smirks at your embarrassment at his actions before he speaks, “There is only but you and I here darling. Not a soul here to judge sinful acts like what just took place and what will continue throughout the night.” You turn your head as your cheeks burn but Jihoon laughs, grabbing your chin to tilt your head back up so he can brush his lips across yours. 

He smiles against your lips before kissing you gently, your hands moving to rest against his chest. “Did you watch my performance today?” Jihoon nods, leaning back to push your hair from your face studying you. “I did, I always do. You were fantastic.” You smile and bite at your lip shaking your head. “They want to meet my teacher, the world should know who is behind my voice.” 

Jihoon laughs into a sigh, his fingers running over your cheek before he lays you back on the bed. A smirk playing on his lips as he runs his fingers along your throat once again, “I’d rather bask in your glory behind closed doors, my angel.” 

——————————————————

tag list; @bangchanbabygirlx @just-here-to-read-01 @niktwazny303 @strawberri-uyu @yeritheloml @tis-niki @noraehey @hoohoohope @otterpopchan @xuxibelle @foxdaisy @smileysuh @vern0nsworld @synthetickitsune @enhacolor @pandorashbox @yeosayang @gyuhanniescarat @yoonguurt @jwnghyuns @xoxodino @sakurasangcl @woniewhite @fantasy2wonderland @midnightvalentines @junhui-recs @woozis-wife @cheolsbestie @sunnyteume @sakurasangcl @multi-kpop-fanfics @noseblowersanonymous @whyokoa @baldi-2 @misssugarlips @raevyng @cbgisland @rubyscoups

please note that I am doing my best to tag all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥ also know if i'm not tagging properly i'm doing my best there's alot going on with mars'oween right now

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed. 

[cinnamoodles]

🍓 [ strawberry dreams ] — after reading your description of yourself, i will ship you with a character from the fandom of your choice/or a random character !

Hiii! i saw you were doing an event so, if this is okay, heres my description.💜

Im 5'2 with curly brown hair and ive got green\gray eyes. Im not very busty but ive got hips and strong legs. Im strong, not a body builder strong but i think you get what i mean...

Im an ENFP or an ESFP (Havent taken the test in a little while)and my enneagram is a 7 wing 8.

I love music and i am very serious about becoming a musician on my own. I sing, play the guitar, ukulele, a bit of piano and i write songs and poems.

I am very protective of my family and friends but when i get really mad i cry(then i gat mad that im crying and then i cry some more) I usually look after everyone, i was the eldest child in my family and often watched my siblings.

I am extremely competitive and flirty but its my personality. I love the banter, banter is life even if its dumb-

I get obsessed with things very easily (from movies to foods to people) and it makes it hard to keep relationships going cuz im always looking for that new excitement.

I can be very jealous if i feel one of my friends is ditching me (even if they arent.)

I can also be pretty mean, ill get in to a funk and just blowup at anyone and grudges usually dont last too long a week at max.

thanks for checking out the cozy cafe event !

i ship you with…

steve harrington !

— i have a lot of reasons for shipping you two together, but one big reason is because you both want excitement in a relationship. what started out as probably friends w benefits turns into the sweetest relationship you’ve ever been in.

— THE BANTER !? we all know that steve is Flirt King™ but with you?? whole different level because you respond to the flirting instead of blushing and looking away, which he finds super hot.

— there’s quite a bit of arguing, especially regarding steve’s friends, but eventually he realizes that they’re toxic and comes back to you, apologizing. you obviously say ‘i told you so’.

— he loves listening to you play guitar or the ukulele, and sometimes tries to sing along, but it’s super funny because he has no idea what pitch or tone is and it ends with everyone giggling.

— together, you both are the gang’s mom™ and dad™. steve’s obviously the mom, and you’re the dad who’ll beat anyone that even looks in the gang’s direction up. the dynamic is super cute.

— eldest/only child syndrome ALL THE TIME. constantly not feeling good enough is awful for both of you, but the other person always makes sure that the other knows their worth.

[kimdokjas]

tag games 💌

~~~

tagged by @rampopurin and @mauxanhduong to do this picrew. tysm for the tag mary and xuân!! 💕

~~~

15 questions for 15 mutuals

tagged by @focryst and @reinerist thank u for tagging me yuu and robin!! 💞

are you named after anyone? nope

when was the last time you cried? last week while i was reading the girl from the other side manga 🥺 update: TODAY while reading the girl from the other side manga 😭

do you have kids? no thank god

do you use sarcasm a lot? not too often! i used to but i've tried to become more genuine over the years

what sports do you play/have you played? sports and i don't really get along lol

what's the first thing you notice about other people? their demeanor i think? like how they carry themselves! or their mood if i can pick it up from their body language. does this make any sense

eye color? brown

scary movies or happy endings? happy endings :')

any special talents? i can walk on stilts which is... completely useless lol. also i'm good at learning languages i think!

where were you born? you'd love to see my birth certificate wouldn't you 😏 /j

what are your hobbies? mainly reading, piano, video games, and writing (occasionally) oh and linguistics!!

do you have any pets? no and it pains me every day 😭

how tall are you? too tall. i could never be a secret agent or a criminal or w/e bc i can't blend in

fave subject in school? literature for sure!!

dream job? can i pls get paid for sleeping PLEASE

~~~

tagged by @chuuyaaz to do this picrew. tysm for tagging me moon!! 💖

~~~

tagged by @karura and @rampopurin to do this picrew. tysm may and mary this was so cute!! 🥺

~~~

tagged by @rorronoa ty rashed!! 💞

What is your favorite cover song?

at last... my entire playlist of just covers finally came in handy! there are SO many covers i love but rn i'll have to go with this one of hallelujah (leonard cohen) by paramore. the sound quality isn't amazing but god.... her voice at 1:45-2:00 specifically 🧎‍♀️

~~~

tagged by @rampopurin ty for the tag mary 💕 these music games are always fun! love how u can tell fob have me by the throat rn lol

Shuffle your "on repeat" playlist on Spotify, post the first 10 songs and then tag 10 people

Fake Out - Fall Out Boy

Hold Me Like a Grudge - Fall Out Boy

8 Legged Dreams - Unlike Pluto

Crave - Paramore

When We Drive - Death Cab for Cutie

What a Time To Be Alive - Fall Out Boy

Spiritfarer - Max LL

Twisted Hearts - 畠中祐

Agnes - Glass Animals

Zoned Out In My Youth - Unlike Pluto

tagging for any of these: (no pressure!) @itoshisae @icythot-bakubitch @smol-ackerman @peskyfirefly @nawjoon @crimsonrosee @itadorii-yuuji @princesskazuya @tenkoushimura @strawhatboy @ryxkenkxgami @kkomaism @nagi-cchi @justapieceintheirgames @ponchizs + anyone else who wants to join!!

[theanimoo]

Ghosts And The Man Who killed Them: Prologue

Characters: Miho Kirishima, Miyuki Tezuka, Takeshi Askura, Odin, (Random guy) & Yuichi Saito

Pairing: None

Summary: A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and-OH GOD! THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE!

Warning: Blood, swearing, gore and death

Word count: 1582

Day 2 of 30 of my 30 Day Writing Challenge and the prompt is Mafia Au for Ryuki.

“We’re up next, Miho.”

Miho paused, her eyes narrowed as she popped the lid on her stick, and glared at a young man that couldn't stand still. His legs shaking like desperate leaves hanging on a twig; shaking, even though they should just fall off and…die.

“Yuichi, stomp your stamping!” The singer stared down the frightened man as he kept tapping his foot, and looking down like a kicked puppy. “The hell are you so nervous for?” 

“You don’t know?” Yuichi suddenly stopped his stamping and looked up with a wide-eyed look. 

“Know what? 

“Well, you see my friend-” The man was suddenly stopped by Miho’s venom.

“That Fortune teller? What does he have to do with anything?”

Yuichi put up a finger as he took a deep breath. “Let me finish, he did a reading for this night and he told me that something was going to happen. Something real bad.”

“Something bad? Come on, do you really believe that fortune telling bushwa?” 

“Well, he’s never been wrong, and there’s also going to be-” The man was cut off again as a group of boys came walking past them with their instruments in hand and grins on their faces.

“Good luck, you two! We have a special guest tonight.”

The two stopped for a moment, both wondering the same thing and what it meant.

Who’s the special guest?

After a few seconds of looking at each other like a couple of blockheads, they finally climbed up the creaking stairs to the stage, and took their places behind the red curtain.

Yuichi on the piano and Miho front and center of the microphone. They both waited in silence before the curtain pulled back to show a dark room filled with cigar smoke, and smelled of wine and blood.

Mobsters and thieves filled the audience, but one person caught their attention: It was the Don.

Odin

The man always wore a perfectly crisp suit and a mask, hiding his face from the world and leaving everywhere he went with an eerie atmosphere. But, the man sitting next to him, he was new. A stranger. A new killer who was there to see their rinky-dinky little show.

He wore black suit, nothing but pitch except for a red waistcoat, and a maroon tie. And, yet that didn’t drive away from his features; He was quite a good looking fella. Slicked back hair and a looked in his eyes that reminded them of-

“Psst! Oi! Get to playing you dumb doras!” A voice that was all too familiar reached Miho’s ears, causing a smile to form as they glanced towards the stairs. There stood the lady’s older sister, their number one fan. 

The only person they trusted in the room.

After the lady’s sister skipped off to her seat, a smooth, deep voice swam over the crowd as a soft piano accompanied the little ditty; it slowly ramp up as they went on, but the mob seemed to love it. Song after song the duo completed brought big smiles to the crowd. 

The crowd was hanging onto every note, taking a ride on every tone and it wasn’t long until they were nearing the end of their show.

Hollers and calls rang throughout the room as Miho sang the last cord, and Yuichi played them out. Blood stained hands applauded with cheer, cheers that were created from cries that would never be heard. 

They almost didn’t want to hear them, but those cheers paid the bills.

“I would like to thank the Don for gracing us with his presence, and for being your friend along to our show. He is quite a handsome fellow if I do say so myself.” Miho spoke with the sweetest voice she could muster as the crowd roared with laughter, the stranger gave a small nod, and Odin waved. 

Then the curtain slowly began to close as a wave of calm rushed over the duo, and they let out a breath that they didn’t know they were holding.

“We’re still alive, right?” The pianist let out a pained chuckle as he was socked in the shoulder by a smug Miho. “I’m still surprised that it went that well, it still seems a bit odd.”

“I told ya it would be ab-so-lute-ly fine, and see nothing happened! I told you that stuff was all balon-AAAAHHHH!”

Red splattered across the singer’s face, iron attacked her tongue and a blood curdling scream left her form as white silk was stained. Her eyes darted around as she stared back into bloodshot eyes.

The pianist’s hands were dripping with blood as fat tears streamed down his cheeks, and mingled with the red on his collar.  Screams filled their ears as Yuichi stumbled across the stage, and tumbled into a hysterical Miho. 

“M-my hands! Miho, I-i-it’s my hands!” His voice wavered as he raised his hands to show the carnage of his most prized possession; Yuichi had been shot, and all they could see was a sick smile through the curtain.

A smile they’ll never forget.

“Oh, god! We need to go! -AHHH!” Miho grabbed onto the man’s shoulders, her whole form shaking as they rushed towards the stairs. The sound of gunfire and the cries of pain sent them stumbling over themselves, fear rushing through their veins as they scrambled to get up. 

The duo clung to each other like an lifeline as they made it to the floor, and a figure backstage caught-

A loud thud made them jump as time seemed to still, there on the floor was her sister. Red poured from her lips as her form laying limp, pale and quickly losing life. 

A hole in her head.

"Nee-san! NOOO-!” Her screams fell on deaf ears as she was yanked past the bones, and into the back of the club- to the exit; Miho couldn’t stop her feet from trying to dart back, but a face left her frozen.

The same sinister smile from before was directed right at her, clothes stained red and engulfed with holes; he didn’t shoot though, he just waved.

H-he waved at m-

“MIHO, MOVE!” 

The singer was yanked back with the force of a desperate man, but it wasn’t enough to tear her gaze away from the monster staring at them. It was almost like he wasn’t even there, a figment of her imagination.

He might have just been smoke and mirrors.

Yuichi slammed into the exit door with his shoulder, biting back a gasp of pain as he pulled Miho along. Concrete greeted them once they stumbled into the alleyway, hard ground and grime gave them a place to catch their breath as they stared into the sky.

There was no cloud in sight as the stars shone brightly above them in an indigo haze, with a soft breeze blowing through the air. Their vision began to slowly blur over as the world began to still.  It would have been peaceful if a sudden blood-curdling scream hadn’t forced them to their feet, and scapering away into the night.

Lungs burned with every breath as their feet slammed against hard ground, and pushed themselves as far away as they could from the hell they escaped; hoping that running away would wipe their minds clean.

___________________________________

The Ore Journal

Gunslinging Crook Asakura Takeshi Finally Thrown in the Salmer!

After the bloodbath that happened on the ___ of___ at a speakeasy that resulted in the death of over 10 people, and many injured, but the crook was finally caught. Asakura Takeshi was arrested by Police Detective Sudo after being caught at an esteemed lawyer’s estate; the crook was there for legal help (God knows he needs it), but he was refused services and without warning pounced! Thankful, Detective Sudo was on patrol that very moment- it’s almost like he’s superhuman! The Crook is currently awaiting his trial in the ___ jail and is-

RingRing 

Is said to be under heavy surveillance until he can be moved to a-

RingRing RingRing

A more secure-

RingRingRingRingRingRing

“Fine! I’m coming, so stop the ringing!” A disgruntled Miho slammed the paper down with a smack, before pushing herself out a loveseat that was too nice, and too far from her front door. 

She stomped her way to the door, but stopped, took a deep breath and opened the door with the sweetest look she could muster. “Well, what’re you here- wait!”

The person outside in the cold, windy air was someone Miho wasn’t expecting to see; it was the psychic guy-Yuichi’s friend. He was drenched in rain and was just dripping with dread.

“Why are you-?” 

“He’s dead.”

A sinking feeling formed a pit in Miho’s gut as she slowly shook her head; she must have heard him wrong. 

“That’s nonsense, there’s no way-!”

“He’s dead…he’s gone.”

The singer felt a lump in her throat, choking her and not letting a word out. She swallowed around nothing for a few moments as her mind raced. “So, how’d it happen? Was he blown down or-?

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, Canary.” His voice was even, almost cold, but his eyes were dark. They were little windows into his soul that he tried to hide.

“Then what was the point if I wouldn’t believe you?” Miho leaned against the doorframe while a sudden nauseous feeling rushed through her, making her sigh and shut her eyes.

“I just thought you should know, and I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

To Be continued

[minilpark]

Heyaa! First of all, thank you for keeping us fed w all the prompt and incorrect top guns 💗. But, could u maybe write one about Bob, being the thigh man he is, being mesmerized by a fellow Lt in the base gym who happens to be doing leg day. And he thought that she’s not as friendly due to her facial expressions in the gym, but later on found out that she’s an absolute sunshine when he hears her singing with Rooster in the Hard Deck. Sorry if this is too specific. Call sign could be loops bcs of her curly hair and the song could be I Say A Little Prayer, but anything else works as well 🥰 sorry if it’s a lot

okay i havent ever listened to the song until now but truly a pretty song and i would l o v e to hear rooster sing it ugh-

i think this prompt is so cute, but i won't specify a callsign just so its a bit more general other than that, i hope you enjoy

y/c/s - your callsign

y/f/n - your first name

y/l/n - your last name

as a lieutenant in the navy it's a given you have to stay pretty fit to do your job

and so today was leg day for you

typically you get up early for a workout, just so you don't run into too many people so you were out your door by 05:30

and you arrived at the (almost empty) gym not that much later

after doing a quick 30 minutes of warm up cardio and streching, you decided it was time to start working on legs

not that long after, bob arrived at the gym too

he's actually really disciplined when it comes to working out

today was arms for him and so after he warmed up he made his way over to the lat pull down machine

and from across the room, he saw you

you were at the seated leg press with your headphones on completely focused on your reps

honestly he found it really impressive that you were pressing the weight you were-

however your expression did intimidate him a bit...

granted he saw you around base often being that you two were both lieutenants and works in the same field

but he never interacted with you before besides the occasional hello while passing by

and he was less inclined than he usually is to do so because he 1. is shy and 2. you are just so,, intimidating and hot-

and he didn't mean for this to happen but while he was working out his eyes would just wander and he saw how muscular your thighs were and he blushed

he really didnt think he would be so attracted to legs, especially thighs but you proved him wrong

after about an hour, you decided you were done for the day and that it would be best to go run your errands, especially since you finally had an off day and time to do everything

bob kinda glanced over while doing his workouts and saw you make your way out, and after another hour, he left as well

later that evening, you and bob found yourselves drinking with some friends at the hard deck

funnily enough, you and bob do have some mutual friends

namely one of them being rooster

speak of the devil and he shall come-

"well if it isnt my lovely singing partner y/f/n 'y/c/s' y/l/n"

you smirk a little and look up from your drink at him

"and you are late mister bradshaw-"

"ah dont hold it against me, i lost track of time doing some work-"

bob seeing the banter you two have across the room almost leads him to believe that you both are in a relationship

but if you were, then rooster would've definitely said something about it

at this point bob is pulled out of his train of thought when he hears rooster playing some chords on the piano

but oddly enough its not "great balls of fire" for once

and so he's dragged over to a seat closer to the piano by phoenix

and you and rooster begin to sing "i say a little prayer"

and its like he's heard an angel

the harmony between you and rooster leaves most of the patrons in the bar speechless

especially bob himself

and the smile you have on your face while singing along feels so contagious

at this point he knows he has more than a small crush on you

when you and bradley eventually finish the song, he high fives you and begins the chords for everyone's favourite-

yep you guessed it, great balls of fire

and you just make your way back to the bar for a break and a little drink

before you even order though, bob gets pushed beside you by phoenix and he nervously takes a seat next to you

"u-um hey lieutenant y/l/n, you probably don't remember me but i'm-"

"oh hey bob how are you?"

he's so confused and speechless rn

"wait what, you know my name?"

"well, of course i do, i mean we're in the same department. i literally say hello to you every day- wait, do you not know my name?"

and he just shakes his head

"uh, no- well, yes i do!"

and you laugh a bit

"well, then there's no need to be so formal! just call me y/n or y/c/s!"

he just smiles and nods and you notice his ears are so red and its spreading to his cheeks

"so, anything you need bob?"

and he just perks up and remembers why he was even pushed over here

"oh, um, i was just wondering if i could buy you a drink?"

you just smile a little and lean in closer to him

"if i didn't know any better, i'd say you're trying to flirt with me, floyd" at which point his eyes widen a bit and no comprehenible words fall out of his mouth

he just clears his throat a little and rubs the back of his neck

"um, s-so would you like a beer?"

"that would be great, bob"

[kbaji]

❝ 𝚩𝚬 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝚬𝐓 𝐓𝚮𝚬 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝚬𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍 ❞ FEAT. CHIFUYU MATSUNO

w. sfw, no real warning, baji makes an appearance, cussing

n. i love the golden girls it’s my fav

the vibration ringing through the home was heavy, the knobs all over the house rattling as if someone was trying to open a locked door. you made your way out of the master bathroom with quick feet, rubbing your wet hands on the hand towel before tossing it on the mattress and walking out of the bedroom.

“you’re a pal and a confidant BUM BUM BUM, and if you threw a party,” the raven-haired man sang, pretending to play piano as the opening theme went on. your quick, loud steps didn't interfere with the volume of the flat screen; chifuyu was oblivious that you rushed downstairs to see what was so loud. he continued singing, now snapping along to every downbeat, swaying, and bouncing on the couch. you stopped behind the sofa, arms crossed and a slightly annoyed expression on your face.

“fuyu, can you turn the tv down, please? it’s too loud,” you asked him; however, it fell on deaf ears as chifuyu continued singing. “chifuyu, turn the volume down, please,” you asked again, a little louder than the first time; but there chifuyu sat with crossed legs and a big smile, still oblivious that you were there.

“for fuck sakes,” you grumbled. the theme song finished, and the show started, but before dorothy could say her first line, you leaned over the back of the couch, grabbing a pillow and swatting chifuyu across the back of his head, messing up his smooth, black hair.

“hey! what was that for?” he whined back, a hand coming up to rub the back of his head and turning around to look at you. “i asked you to turn down the tv—so can you please turn the vol-” he turned around before you could finish your question. if chifuyu saw the way you looked back at him when he turned around, he would’ve sworn he’d be dead.

“babe, i’m trying to as-” he cut you off again, “be quiet, angel! the golden girls is on! and i’m missing it!” chifuyu huffed and brought up his hand from his lap, waving you off. reeling back in shock, you stared back at your boyfriend with your mouth wide open, “baby, just turn the goddamn television down,” you retorted back and let out a sigh of defeat, walking around the couch to sit next to him.

as you plopped down on the leather couch, your front door opened. you and chifuyu leaned your heads back and peeked over to the entrance; baji wobbled as he took off his shoes, mumbling about something. with long strides, he made his way over to where you and chifuyu sat. you both looked up at him, waiting for him to say something.

silence filled the room aside from the tv speakers, baji stared at you and chifuyu intensely, eyes flickering back and forth between you two before shifting his gaze to the tv, watching as sophia laid a snarky remark about rose’s stupidity. baji opened his mouth slightly, turning his attention back to where you sat on the couch. chifuyu opened his mouth to greet his best friend, “what’s up, buddy?”

“oh fuck you, matsuno, i told you to wait on me before starting the damn show!”

NAVIGATION, MASTERLIST ⋆ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[bubblesuga]

Once In A Lifetime

Summary: Yoongi is a pain in your ass, but sometimes that's okay. What's a cafe job without a little drama?

genre: college!au tags: smut, fluff, mutual masturbation, cream pie, dirty talk W/C: 4,740 a/n: i have a weak spot for blond yoongi

You seethe silently while you stare at the schedule on the pin board in the back room. You begged your boss, damn near pleaded on your knees in front of her not to schedule you with him.

Its hard enough to close with only two people but fuck, if it isn't impossible when you're with Min Yoongi.

Don't get it wrong, Yoongi has a knack for customer service and he's quite good at making coffee but for some reason-- when the two of you were completely alone-- he became unbearably annoying.

It's like the moment the open sign turns off, he forgets how to work. While you're in the back cleaning dishes, sweeping the kitchen, counting cash drawers, taking out the garbage and everything else involved with closing, Yoongi turns on his speaker and plays whatever song he's been working on recently.

Okay, sure. This job isn't the most important thing on the planet. You both are just trying to get a little extra cash while you push through college, but you'll be damned if you get paid the same while you do all the work.

"Kati!" you yell from the back, your arms crossed and your nails digging into each of your biceps. You hear footsteps behind you, causing you to turn around expecting to see Kati.

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi leans in the doorway with a smirk on his face, "Awe, we're closing together again!"

"Awe we're closing toget-" you begin to mock but end up giving up and allowing your frustration to take over, "shut up, Yoongi."

"Don't seem so glum, sugar plum. I promise I'll be a good boy and listen to you." His words were too sweet to be true, they were laced with his famous sarcasm which only made you want to yell at him more.

Before you have the chance to counteract his sarcasm, he taps your back lightly before turning around and walking back out.

If there was one thing you did enjoy about him, it was the view of him when he walked away.

As the hours pass, eventually you and Yoongi are the last ones there. When Seokjin said goodbye, you silently pleaded that he would stay for just a little while longer. He gave you a slight apologetic look, glancing at Yoongi before shaking his head and walking out.

A groan leaves your lips.

It's only 9:30, you still have half an hour until the shop closes and there's way too many pastries left over.

Yoongi stands behind you, silently wiping down the coffee machines and humming along to whatever song was playing over the loud speakers.

Leaning back against the counter, you cross your arms and watch Yoongi for a moment. In a dark denim apron and slim black shirt, it feels as though the uniform was made for Yoongi. You can tell he's been working out lately, his muscles are more defined beneath the fabric of his shirt. It's killing you that despite being as annoying as he is, he's still immensely attractive and he knows it.

The snapback rests backwards on his head, blond hair poking out subtly. He turns, meeting your eyes for a moment which causes you to turn away quickly. It's quiet for a while again.

"I don't think anyone is going to come in," Yoongi breaks the silence, "I doubt Kati would mind if we closed early."

"I think she would. She said she gets a rush in the last 15 minutes so we should be prepared for that."

"We're not going to get a rush, we're a coffee shop and it's almost 10pm on a Monday."

"I'm not disobeying Kati just so you can play your shitty music and do nothing while I close."

"Shitty," he scoffs, "my music is hardly shitty, and I do help close. Who do you think cleans the front?"

"Wiping down espresso machines isn't the hardest part of closing." Maybe you're being a bit too harsh. Maybe you're trying to cover up the fact that he caught you staring at him earlier.

Yoongi sets the yellow rag down on the counter, turning to you fully, "I also sweep and mop up here. It's kinda hard to do anything else when your coworker does everything else. Ya ever think of delegating, huh?"

You feel your eye twitch. Just as you're about to respond, the bell above the door rings and you instantly wipe away your anger and throw your best customer service face on.

"Hi, good evening! What can I get for you today?"

As you help the customer, Yoongi walks to the back.

You make her coffee, heat her Panini, and speak with her for a moment about the aromatics of the freshly ground coffee beans that you had become used to. You didn't have the heart to tell her that you didn't smell it anymore, so you talked about how that was your favorite part about working in a cafe.

When she leaves, you realize it's finally time to close.

Switching off the open sign, you open the cash drawers and begin counting. Anything extra goes into the safe, and it seems as though everything was in place tonight.

In the back, you can hear Yoongi moving around and you don't question what he's doing.

Cleaning, sweeping, and mopping... Eventually you finish the front and move to the back but you stop suddenly.

Yoongi isn't playing his music.

Raising an eyebrow, you push open the door to the back and see that the kitchen is completely spotless.

Yoongi puts the last of the dirty dishes away and turns to you, "Don't worry, princess. I did it just the way you like it."

"T- thank-" you stutter but you're not able to finish your sentence before Yoongi pushes past you and walks out the door. The bell rings and you realize that he's left. The two of you managed to close in under 20 minutes.

You can't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over you. You definitely we're being a bit too harsh, and it seems to have affected Yoongi more than you thought it would.

Sighing, you push a hand through your hair and walk out the door.

Your drive home is silent. You're not one to overthink, especially when it comes to Yoongi, but you feel the need to apologize.

After your nightly routine, you plop into bed and glance at your phone. It doesn't take much to make you open your contact list.

(Y/N) sent 10:55

hey. just wanted to apologize for calling your music shitty. for the record, it's not. you're pretty good.

Your phone dings quickly.

Yoongi received 10:56

no need to be sorry, i know i'm good.

You don't respond, rolling your eyes and tossing your phone onto the night stand.

~*~*~

Closing the next day was much more simple than before. Yoongi did the back again, but this time you could hear his music playing again.

The beats are much more incredible than you'd ever admit to him in person. His voice speaks melodically to the music, drowning out your thoughts. You find yourself tapping your foot to the beat as you finish cleaning up the front.

The song finishes and there's a sudden change of pace.

Instead of a strong bass line and incredible drum work, a piano plays through.

Your interest is piqued, your legs carrying you to the back where Yoongi stands. He doesn't notice you, allowing the song to continue to play.

"This is gorgeous." you murmur, and a switch flips in Yoongi.

His hands, though soaked with water and soap, reaches up and turns off the speaker. He turns to you, panicked, "N- no one is supposed to hear that one. I didn't realize it was so loud."

"So you're telling me you just...listen to your own music?"

"Well, no," for the first time, you see a blush creep across Yoongi's face, "I play certain songs for you, and there's certain songs that are just for me."

"You play songs for me?" Any resentment you had towards the man dissipated in an instant. Instead, butterflies swarmed in your tummy. Butterflies for him.

He scratches the back of his neck, "Well, I don't play them for me. I want you to see how good I am."

"Humble," you hum, giggling slightly. Yoongi seems taken aback by the sound but doesn't get a chance to dwell as you continue to speak, "why can't I listen to this song?"

Yoongi sighs, "It's embarrassing."

"Let me listen," you begin to walk towards the speaker but Yoongi puts his hands on your shoulders to hold you back, "come on, Yoongi."

Yoongi doesn't give, but you manage to slip passed his hands and fall against his chest. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and waddling you backwards. In a last ditch effort, you attempt to reach passed him but his grip on you is surprisingly strong.

"No, no, Princess. That song is for me and me only."

The nickname has a stronger affect on you than usual.

"But..." you stick your bottom lip out in a fake pout, "I wanna hear the softer side of Min Yoongi."

Yoongi's eyes dart to your lips, licking his own. You're suddenly aware of just how close Yoongi is keeping you, his cologne filling your nose. He's cute from this angle, his nose is rounded and is tinged with red at the tip. His eyes, though dark, are brighter than usual. He smiles softly, a gentle giggle falling from his lips.

"I can't tell you how many times I've wanted you this close to me." Your heart melts at his words, and you look down to the way your chests are pressed against each other.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you question.

He smiles, "I did, you just didn't listen since you were so preoccupied with your little closing routine."

"My little closing routine makes the opener's life so much easier." you defend, trying to distract yourself from the way his hands sit at the base of your spine, playing gently with the hem of your shirt.

"I'm sure the opener is very concerned with the fact that you make sure you set the forks before the spoons and the knives right after." Yoongi whispers, his tone joking but his eyes glazing over. Even in the horrendous white lighting of the kitchen, he looks beautiful.

"Bite me, Yoongi."

Yoongi bares his teeth and scrunches his nose, "If you insist."

Without wasting a second, Yoongi's mouth latches onto your lips. You gasp into the kiss, but Yoongi's grip tightens and holds you closer.

To say your stomach exploded into butterflies would be an understatement. Your entire body lit up like a Christmas tree, heat radiating from your skin because Yoongi was everywhere. His hands were large, slipping underneath the hem of your shirt and resting on your lower back. He didn't stray any higher or lower, simply planting himself in one spot while his lips continued their attack on yours.

He smiles against your lips, taking them away only to begin his reign over your jaw line and down your neck. Then, he nips.

One.

Two.

Three.

By the fourth, his teeth are biting at your collarbones, but his hands have not moved from your back. You mewl above him, desperately clinging to his arms. Damn your neck for being so sensitive.

"Yoongi," you breathe, "touch me, Yoongi."

"I am touching you." He murmurs stubbornly against your skin.

You whine, "Your hands, Yoongi."

"Hmm," he hums, chuckling, "I like when you say my name."

Suddenly his hands drop down to your ass, kneading it through the thin fabric of your work leggings. He pulls himself back up to your face, planting his lips against yours again as you moan into his mouth.

Yoongi slips his hands between the two of you, hooking his fingers beneath the band of both your leggings and your panties.

"Are we really about to fuck in the kitchen?" You ask, your chest heaving.

Yoongi leans back, taking a second to assess the situation. "You're right, my apartment?"

"No, your car."

"Dirty girl," he grins, taking his keys out of his pocket, "I'll turn off all the lights. Go get ready for me."

You nod, grabbing his keys and walking out of the door. As you're about to reach the front door, it already swings open and Kati waltzes in completely unexpectedly.

Panicked, your eyes go wide and you halt just before leaving from behind the counter. Kati glances up from her phone, "Ah, perfect, is Yoongi still here?"

Swallowing, you nod carefully.

"Great, I need to talk to you both," she turns towards the kitchen, "Yoongi! Get your ass up here!"

Closing your eyes, you pray to god that he's composed himself a little more than you have. Sure enough, he walks from the kitchen and seems just as nonchalant as ever, "Yes, boss?"

"So, I need you two to close for the next couple weeks together. Jackson quit and Woojin can't work nights."

"...and?" Yoongi questions.

She seems slightly taken aback, "Well, I need to make sure you two won't kill each other."

Both you and Yoongi hold back laughter.

Resting his arm softly on your shoulder, Yoongi's skin is still hot against yours, "No promises, boss."

"I'm serious," she scolds, "It's only a couple weeks then I'll never schedule you two alone again."

"Yes ma'am." you put your hand up in a salute.

Working alone with Yoongi for 2 weeks? What could possibly go wrong?

Kati smiles, "Alright then. I'm gonna grab the money from the safe then I'll let you two get back to closing."

You two silently watch Kati unlock the safe beneath the register, taking out the deposits from today. Yoongi's arm hasn't left your shoulder, his fingers brushing lightly against your collarbone. When you turn over to him, his face showing no emotion but his hands doing more to you than you could ever imagine.

Kati turns back, "Okay, be here at 2 tomorrow. Thank you!"

As she walks out, Yoongi's arm falls from your neck.

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow as he wipes his brow.

"I was shitting bricks." Yoongi says, causing you to tilt your head. "Why?"

"You have hickeys all over your neck."

Your eyes widen, your hand flying to your neck, "Yoongi! Do you know how fucking bad that could have been?"

"I know, that's why I covered your neck." He explains, gesturing with just as wild eyes.

"No, no-" you shake your head, "We almost fucked in the kitchen, Yoongi. That's not okay."

"But we were gonna go to my car!" Yoongi's shoulders slump and his mouth is agape in confusion.

"Imagine if she had walked in when your tongue was down my throat."

"Well I would have asked her to join."

"Yoongi!"

"I'm kidding, you know I only have eyes for you babe." He steps closer, leaning forward to press a kiss against your lips once again. You pull away, shaking your head.

Despite the fact that it was taking everything in you not to kiss him again, not to giggle at his lighthearted jokes and just follow him to his car, you knew that you had to practice self-discipline otherwise no work would ever get done with Yoongi.

"Are you upset?" Yoongi seems hurt.

"No," you sigh, "I just don't think it's a good idea for us to do anything here."

Yoongi straightens his back, clearing his throat and adjusting his clothes, "Right. Wouldn't want anyone's coffee getting out late because we're in the back fucking."

"Right." you whisper.

Yoongi smiles softly, "Doesn't mean I won't imagine it."

"Such a gentleman," you roll your eyes, bending down to grab your bag, "I'll see you tomorrow."

~*~*~

"Can I get an Dirty Chai with oatmilk, Yoongi?"

It's the first time you had one of those late night rushes that Kati was talking about. There's a line out the door, drunk college students desperate for some sort of carbs to soak up the alcohol. Yoongi is running back and forth from the panini press to the espresso machine while you grabbed pastries and muffins for what seemed like hours.

It being busy hasn't distracted you enough from the past couple of days with Yoongi.

Yoongi has respected the boundary you set-- for the most part. Walking passed you in the small space behind the counter, his hands brush along your back, a trail of heat following his fingertips. Though it's not the most intense of touches, there's a sensuality of it that leaves you nearly a panting mess.

Your conversations have been more open, you continue to ask him about his music and he wonders aloud about your studies. He learned that you were a history major, specializing in paleontology. Ever since then, he likes to ask questions about random dinosaurs. It's certainly cute, because you can tell he's genuinely interested but he's only interested because you're the one telling him.

You still haven't been able to listen to that song that he started, and he insist its because its not good enough for the rest of the world to hear it yet. You're sure its finished, he's just not ready for you to hear what it's about. Something tells you you're getting close though.

Yoongi turns around a few moments after your request, setting a Dirty Chai on the counter. You call out the customer's name and smile as you hand it to her.

"Swap me, babe. My hands are shaking."

Oh yeah, the pet names have evolved as well.

"Shaking?" you question, but you don't have enough time to dwell as the panini press dings and you're rushing to the other side of the front.

Sure enough, as you glance back Yoongi's hands are shaking while he begins handing out pastries.

Finishing up a few more coffees, you call out customer names and the dining room begins to clear out. The line is gone and a few groups sit in the dining room, eating their food.

The second that Yoongi hands the last pastry out, he walks to the back without saying a word to you.

Glancing at the customers, you swallow and follow him.

When you enter the kitchen, Yoongi's taking deep breaths against the sink. He doesn't notice you, so you lean opposite him against the counter.

Leaning forward, you rest your hands on either side of Yoongi's face, forcing him to look you in the eye.

"That was a lot of people." Yoongi breathes.

"It was, but we kicked ass." you reassure him, but his breathing doesn't slow down.

"I think I'm having an anxiety attack," he explains, "can you hug me? P- pressure helps calm down the fight or flight response and-"

You don't allow him to finish, pulling him close to you and wrapping your arms tightly around him. His face buries itself into your neck, his breath fanning raggedly over your skin. It takes him a few moments, but his breathing slowly begins to calm, his heart rate slowing against your chest.

"If its ever getting to much for you just let me know and I'll fly solo for a little bit." you speak softly, your hand moving up to stroke the back of Yoongi's head.

"I can't do that to you," he sighs, "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

"No, I get it," your nails begin to scratch his scalp gently, "a lot of drunk people wanting food is overwhelming, especially when their patience is non-existent. If you ever need to take a breather then I won't get mad."

"You already hate closing with me, I don't want to make it worse."

Your heart breaks.

"No, I don't hate closing with you. I think I was just trying to hide my feelings." You never expected to say this to him, but at this point you'll do anything to make him feel better.

He pulls away from your neck, a shy smile on his face. He has done a complete 180 from two nights ago.

"You have feelings for me?"

"Well, I certainly feel something." You look down, hyper aware of how close he is to you.

He grins, leaning down and pressing a soft, quick kiss to your lips. Before the conversation can go any further, the bell dings open and both of you jump apart, moving to the front to help yet another customer.

The rest of the night went by much more smoothly than earlier.

Yoongi turns on his music in the front while you do the dishes in the back. He's playing his usual mix, and you find yourself humming along to the songs as they come.

It's not until you're almost finished do you hear the familiar piano notes begin to play. Peaking your head out of the kitchen, Yoongi holds the speaker in his hands and watches you carefully. Slow melodies play out underneath his gentle voice, the lyrics portraying the man's first love.

You cross your arms, soaking in the lyrics as much as you can. His face is red as more emotion plays out. It doesn't take you long to realize that what you're listening to is the personification of Yoongi's passion. A conversation is held between him and the piano, and Yoongi sets flame to it all.

When the song comes to a close, you don't move, or breathe, or speak.

"Oh my god, say something!"

You look up, meeting Yoongi's scared eyes.

"When you become famous can I sell your autograph on ebay?"

Yoongi laughs, "Yeah, you can sell it."

You don't think of a witty response. Instead, you walk towards him and hug him once again. Resting your head on his shoulder, you two sway for a moment, almost dancing with the air. The atmosphere of the empty cafe has become much more calming than it was before.

His hands dance along your spine, "You know, I've never shown anyone that song before."

"I'm glad that my insistence made me the first." you tease, inhaling Yoongi's cologne. He certainly knows how to smell good.

"Your insistence, yes," he starts, "but also your impeccable ability to strengthen my confidence."

"Awe, does Yoongi have a soft spot for me?" you try your best to hide the way his smile is making your heart flutter.

"Always have." He murmurs, his lips kissing the tip of your nose.

"We're not very good at the whole 'not-kissing-at-work' thing." you giggle, feeling his grip tighten.

"I don't want to be good at it."

He doesn't allow you to respond before his lips are on yours once again. Against them, he smirks, "Shall we go to my car tonight?"

"God yes."

With steamy windows and Yoongi's hot body on top of yours, you both completely forget about your surroundings. His back seat is incredibly comfortable, your head resting on his shirt while he nips along your stomach and down to your hips.

It didn't take long for the two of you to move, you listening to Yoongi's every silent demand as he taps your hip to signal you to lift them.

Smiling, he murmurs a soft, "Good girl." before sliding your leggings and panties off in one go.

Now fully exposed, goosebumps raise under your skin. Yoongi is slow moving, his tongue drawing circles on your pelvic bone before biting down harshly. You gasp, your back arching into him.

"How long have you been this wet?" Yoongi asks, his fingers moving forward to collect your arousal. He slips through your folds, pushing a single finger into your aching heat.

You can't formulate a response to his question, because he begins a tormentingly slow thrust into your head, curling his finger upward.

Dipping his head down, his lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

Your hips jerk against him, but the pleasure doesn't play out for long before his pulling away.

"I don't want you to cum yet," he chuckles when you whine, standing and unbuckling his belt, "I just needed to make sure you were ready."

"And what?" you bite playfully, "you gonna pull out a huge snake or some shit?"

"I don't think so," Yoongi responds, sliding his pants down his legs, revealing his cock, "it's alright."

It's more than alright. Your mouth waters over the sight, twitching slightly from his arousal. It's curved upward, the tip already a hot red and leaking precum. His hand wraps around the base of it, stroking it slowly. Out of habit, you slide your middle and ring fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your body and to your clit.

You eyes don't pull themselves away from the way Yoongi is skillfully touching himself, thumb running along the tip and a string of saliva falling from his mouth to the tip of his cock.

"You like watching me touch myself?" He asks, his voice significantly deeper than it was before. You nod, not looking away from his cock.

"Answer me." he takes his hand away from his cock and brings it to your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He's willing to sacrifice his own pleasure to get an answer out of you, and for some reason that only turns you on even more. You speed the movements on your clit, moaning softly while you look into Yoongi's eyes.

He clicks his tongue once he notices your movements, grabbing your wrist and dragging it up to his mouth. Licking your fingers clean, he grabs your other hand and holds both of your wrists against your pelvic bone, just out of reach of your heat. He likes playing games, and he likes to win.

"Yes," you finally manage, "yes I like watching you jerk off."

He grins, a gummy grin that makes him seem much more innocent than he is. The words are dirty falling from your tongue but it only seems to heighten the fire in Yoongi's eyes.

"Good," he says, gripping his cock again and thrusting into his hand, "should I let you cum just from watching me?"

Your wrists twitch in his other hand, "P- please."

"Okay, whatever you want princess."

He lets go of your hands and your fingers fly to your clit, desperately rubbing harsh circles while he continues to stroke himself.

As his pace speeds up, he begins to let out soft, subtle moans. Your chest heaves at the sounds, hands shaking while you push yourself even closer to the edge.

"Louder, Yoongi," you beg, "please."

Yoongi bites his bottom lip briefly, a small whimper falling from his mouth while you arch your back, the heat in your abdomen growing stronger and stronger.

Yoongi's hand stops suddenly, "Where do you want me to cum?"

You grin mischievously, gesturing to your core.

Yoongi's eyes widen, crawling closer to you and leaning down, "You want me to cum in your pussy?"

You nod frantically.

"Who would have thought my pretty princess was such a dirty girl."

"Just fuck me, Yoongi." you whine, pushing your heat towards him. Yoongi does just that, slipping his cock into you. You instantly clamp around him, causing his hips to stutter deeper into you.

He gains his rhythm quickly, not holding back as he holds your hips into his back seat and pounds into you harshly.

A deep growl erupts from his chest at your small whimpers, an almost primal instinct taking over him as he leans down to kiss you. The second his lips touch yours, you gasp and feel yourself release. A loud moan of his name falls from your lips as you come undone, pushing his hips into yours with your heels.

Yoongi follows suit quickly, his release coating your walls and his head collapsing onto your chest.

"Holy fuck." He says after a minute, his mouth agape while he tries to catch his breath.

"Better than you imagined?" You feel proud of yourself for having such a huge affect on Yoongi. It's not often does he seem caught off guard.

"Way better," he replies, "the best I've ever had."

You run your nails over his scalp again, feeling him shiver against you, "Maybe if you take me out, you'll be able to have it again."

Yoongi pulls his head up, "When, where, what time?"

"I'll leave that up to you," you smile, "let's just cuddle for now."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

[missblissy]

I don't think I even need to ask but 👀👀👀👀 7 with Alastor. Tyty.

((Hi welcome to the HC where Alastor has a degrading kink of some kind so I wrote this as soon as I got the chance to. And No problem Nonny >w> I hope you enjoy!! Here is the song featured in this fic!!))

Kisses || 7: Passionate kisses || Closed!!

He sat there, fingers on the ivory keys, looking at you as if you were the only person left in this burning hellscape of a world. This was it, the moment of his life he looked forward to most. Nothing else filled him with the desire he had now, as he watched you circle him on this stage. He played the piano, you sang the song. It was as simple as that. Perfection at its finest. The crowd watched, enjoying what little entertainment this hotel had to offer. You took in a breath, eyes only on Alastor. You didn't care about anything else, not the crowd, not the stage. It was only him, this was only for him. He wore only a red shirt, with his sleeves rolled up, exposing the odd nature and truth of his gloves, which weren't gloves at all. There was something sexy about that though, the way the dark colorations bleed like veins up his arms. Alastor even tried his bowtie for a regular tie and he lacked his monocle. You, on the other hand, had a lovely matching red dress, the sleeves hung just off the shoulders, leaving them bare and exposed. Your dress glittered ever so slightly under the spotlight and as you walked slowly, the long side slit shows your slender legs, with black heels. The two of you made quite the handsome pair.

You perked your rosy lips and as you walked by him, you made sure to trail your fingers along his shoulder, to his neck, and along his other shoulder, "Missed me, missed me, now you've got to kiss me. If you kiss me, mister, I might tell my sister. If I tell her, mister, she might tell my mother and my mother, mister, she might tell my father! And my father, mister, he won't be too happy... And he'll have his lawyer to come up from the city and arrest you, mister, so I wouldn't miss me. If you get me, mister, see!"

The piano keys bucked out their notes with each aggressive keynote. He was entrapped in your gaze, sexy and hungry and willing to be misled by you. He narrowed his gaze as you made your way around the piano. Just as before, you traced your fingers along, taking slow long steps with the sway of your hips. But the thing that struck him the most was how you sang in such a low whisper. Of course, it was into an old microphone (Which honestly didn't make it better) but your voice was hushed into a whisper as if it was only for him to hear, despite being on a stage, "Missed me, missed, me now you've got to kiss me, If you kiss me, mister, you must think I'm pretty... If you think so, mister, you must want to fuck me! If you fuck me, mister, it must mean you love me- If you love me, mister, you would never leave me! It's as simple as can be!"

You winked at him and gave a little flip of your hair as the sound of a coin slot in the background matched your body language. And with every new verse, Alastor only played the piano louder, more aggressively. The flicker in his eye and the lust in his red gaze only pushed you furthered on. You circled around him a second time, eventually stopping behind him, you leaned over his shoulder and sang in a soft voice, toying with his emotions, "Missed me, missed me, now you've got to kiss me. If you miss me, mister, why do you keep leaving? If you trick me, mister, I will make you suffer! And they'll get you, mister, put you in the slammer, and forget you, mister! Then you'll miss me, won't you...? Won't you miss me? Won't you miss me? Won't you miss me?"

You draped your arms over him, letting your hands run down the front of his chest, slipping over the silk of his suit. You made sure to lean in and smile while watching his fingers along with the white keys, "Missed me, missed me, now you've got to kiss me. If you kiss me, mister, take responsibility. I'm fragile, mister, just like any girl would be. And so misunderstood! So treat me delicately..."

Quickly you moved away from him and dramatically threw a hand in the air, basking it over your face as if to block out the sun. You did a twirl until you stopped beside the piano and flung yourself over it. The slit up your dress exposed your leg as you lifted it up and crossed it over the other, "Missed me, missed me, now you've gone and done it! Hope you're happy in the county penitentiary! It serves you right for kissing little girls! But I will visit, if you miss me, say you miss me!" You paused then sat up straight and turned your head quickly to face Alastor. Your hair bounced and swished into your face as you put a finger to your lip and asked in an innocent voice, "How's the food they feed you? Do you miss me? Will you... kiss me through the window? Do you miss me, miss me.. ?" You pushed yourself off the piano and walked quickly back to Alastor, standing behind him once again as you let a hand trail down the side of his face. And as if you were really asking it, you sang out your last line, "Will they ever let you go? I miss my mister so."

With the last note from the piano, the curtains swished together, closing you two of from the crowd. With the newfound privacy, you sashayed your way over to him. As he held out his hand, you slipped your fingers across his, down his pam, and latched on to his wrist as he pulled you towards him. Your finger intertwined with his, while his other hand snaked around your waist, resting near your lower back. He held you standing there, one of his knees between your legs. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and gave it a soft kiss, "You love making me out to be the bad guy, don't you?" He flicked his gaze up to you, half-lidded and dark.

"You're horrible," You teased, then smirked as you tilted your head slightly, loose strands of hair falling into your face, "Terrible, utterly disgusting."

Alastor gave your arm a gentle yank but strong enough to swiftly pull you in, "Go on," He took his hand and grabbed your by your chin, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

You took this chance to get closer, only inches from his face, "A degenerate, dumpster fire of a man. A truly wretched soul,"

"Oh you're too kind, my little doe," His gaze tore into you, dark, red, and glowing with passion. He took a long stare letting his eyes travel over your body that so perfectly fit the damn dress, "Anything else?"

"You're awful in every way that I love," You grabbed him by his tie and pulled him as close as he could possibly get, "I hate you, do you love me?"

He pulled in a long deep breath that followed with a low a deep growl of a laugh. It was twisting around in the static of his radio-tinted voice, going as low to make him sound like an animal hiding in the dark. He took the chance to close the space between you and connect your lips. At the same time his arms wrapped around you while his claws dug into your skin.

The prick of his teeth tugging at your lips, enticing you to give in made it hard to resist him. You could feel the smirk off his lips and even the echo of his laughter as you melted into his embrace. You found yourself week, letting a hiccup of a moan slip from your lungs. Alastor made quick work to kiss your even harder, deepening the kiss until he had tasted every part of your mouth. He started to pull away but you wanted more. The weight shifted between you two. You could feel him shift and give way as you crawled into his lap. There was a point there when you thought you both might have tipped off the bench and into the piano. But that never happened, so you curled your arms around Alastor's neck while a pair of fingers tangled into his hair. Shivers traveled down your skin as you felt his fingers drift up your back and tug at the back hems of dress, not too far from where the zipper could be, if only he really meant it and wasn't teasing you instead.

You let out a growl and pulled away quickly. You had to catch your breath, and as you huffed with a dark blush on your face, Alastor looked over your perfect and flustered face. He soaked in the fact that he could make you like this, flushed red cheeks, lust in your eyes, and gasping for air.

He had enough of being here, toying with you behind the curtains of a stage. With one arm around you, he pulled you close and his face was well pressed against your chest. His smile was large and wicked as he used his free hand to snap his fingers. In a cloud of smoke and screens, the two of you had vanished from sight, well into the shadows and far away from any prying eyes to witness what happened next.

[adezahnae]

Little Song Bird (Part 1)

A/N: HELLO AND WELCOME TO “LITTLE SONG BIRD” WITH LEE TAEYONG!! This is my second Mini series in all and with a new member. I hope you enjoy and love it😭✨

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Tagged People: @supernovapluto

Warnings: Smut, sexual tension, fingering, MusicTeacher!Taeyong x Student!Reader

Your POV

I looked at my phone and rushed down the halls of my school and pushed through the door for my music class. I busted into the door and the entire class looked at me, including the teacher. The teacher....the teacher...he was..handsome. He was breathtaking. No! Stop thinking these things! You are here for school and your career!

The teacher raised an eyebrow at me. “You must be Miss Y/n?” He asked. I nodded and bowed. “Y-Yes sir.” I said. “Mr. Lee is my name. Have a seat please.” He said pointing to the front desk. I made my way through the class and sat down. “Now. I will go through your talents with all separately. You may talk amongst yourselves but keep your voices down.” He said.

He called up students one by one and they were done pretty fast. I pulled out a notebook and drew inside of it. No one really knew me I didn’t really know anyone so that was that. I heard my name been called and rushed up to him. He seems strict so I didn’t want to him to be angry.

His eyes were so big and soft, but his aura wasn’t. “It’s says here you are a vocalist?” He asked. I nodded. “Show me.” He said. I cleared my throat and I sung one of my favorite songs. My voice was a little bit low since I was little nervous. I avoided his eyes and looked everywhere else except for him. He stopped me. “Look at me.” He said. I looked into his eyes and he got closer, making me panic.

“Eye contact is the main key. If you lack eye contact, how will you effect people fully with your performance, hm?” He asked. My eyes shook at his eyes that was now narrowed and serious. He leaned back in his chair. “And your voice is low. You have an amazing voice, but it’s too low. But...we’ll work on that.” He smirked. I nodded and way about to walk away. “Y/n.” He called.

I turned around. “Yes, Mr. Lee?” I replied. “We’re gonna work on that today, at the end of school.” He said. I gulped and nodded. I went back to my seat and continued what I was doing. Why did his voice sound so...dark? Or is it..sexy?? What is sexy? Sigh, Another talk I have to have with my mom.

The day was now to an end. Every other of my classes were great, but Mr. Lee was the one on my mind the most. I made my way back down to the hall and went inside his classroom again. He was playing on the piano. It sounded amazing. I stood back and listened to the music I was enjoying the song until I was shortly cut off. “Get in here.” He said, still playing the piano.

I made my way to where he was and sat down my things. He stopped playing the piano and turned to me. “Okay Y/n, are you ready?” He asked me. I nod. I made my way towards him on the bench. He put two of his fingers on my throat. I gasped at the sudden feeling. “Sing the highest you can go. Honestly.” He said. I went the highest, but it wasn’t that high. He sighed.

“Just as I thought.” He said. “What?” I asked. “You’re voice is not stretched out long enough. And you’re shy.” He said. I nodded. “H-How are we working on this? I’m confused-“ “Close your mouth, I’m not done talking.” He said. I closed my mouth and waited for him to finish. “Now you need to stretch it.” He said shifting in his seat. “How?” I asked. “By moaning.” He said.

I widened my eyes. “M-Moan? I can’t do that, it doesn’t sound right..” I said. “Are you sure you don’t wanna moan for me?” He asked. My throat went dry at his words. I stumbled over my words, not knowing how to answer. He rolled his eyes and put two fingers along my neck again. “Sing the highest note you sung just now.” He said.

I did so until I suddenly felt my legs being parted. I gasped. “Did I tell you to stop singing?” He asked sternly. I shook my head. “N-No sir.” I stuttered. “Then continue.” He said. I continued to sing, feeling my voice starting to ware out. His fingers teased my dripping heat through my panties. “Don’t stop until I tell you to..” He ordered. I nodded and continued to stretch my voice out longer. “How old are you?” He asked. “I-I’m 21..” I said.

I felt his fingers slip past my underwear and into my entrance, starting at steady pace. I screamed out, and my voice got higher. “You sound better already..” he whispered still moving his fingers. My voice then got unsteady. “Don’t you dare stop singing. You stop and you will regret it.” He said with striking eyes. I felt my high approaching closer and closer.

I clenched around his fingers, making him groan. “Are you close?” He asked. I nodded as my voice got higher and higher. He sped up his finger pace making my high strike through my entire body. I screamed out at the highest my voice can go, feeling it break through a barrier in my throat. “Yes, good job Kitty. Great great job...” he praised still riding out my high.

He finally pulled away and put his fingers in his mouth. “Now sing your highest note.” He said again. I sing to the highest I could go and it sounded the same as I was when I was cumming just now. He smiled and nodded his head. “Perfect..” he said. “W-Why did you do that..that was rape!!” I exclaim. “First off I didn’t fuck you, and secondly you didn’t stop me. Technically it’s not rape.” He said. “I just made you a better singer.” He smiled. I looked at him with confusing eyes. “By fingering me?” I asked. “Yes.” He replied playing the piano again. I sighed and picked up my things. “Well I-“ “If you sit there and tell me a lie, saying that you didn’t enjoy it, you can leave the classroom permanently.” He says.

“H-How did you know I enjoyed it?” I asked. He sighed, got up and took a piece of paper from his desk. He gave it to me. “Next time you rush out of here, be sure you keep your smutty writing in a safe place please.” He said. I gasped and snatched the paper away from him. “T-That was private...” I mumbled. “If you want to be bent over my piano, you can just ask.” He shrugged, walking over to his piano and playing again. “Do you this to all of your students?” He sighed. “You ask a lot of damn questions. No. You’re a special one.” He replied. I nodded my head. “T-Thank you I guess...I-I’ll be leaving then.” I said walking towards the door. “Y/n.” He called. “Yes?” I asked. “We’re not done with your training. You will have your next lesson with me tomorrow..” He said darkly again. “Y-Yes sir...” I said. Why am I excited for this?

[jordanstrophe]

Be a Good guest, part 6

CW: Whump, parental/intimate whumper, whumpee being chipped, blood, captivity, belting referenced, angst, abusive treatment, panic attack

Masterlist

Walter was stressed out today and grumbling to himself, not even making eye contact with Gabriel, which was quite new. He wasn’t sure, but he felt like that was a pretty bad sign. Gabriel took a deep breath before approaching him as Walter mindlessly paced around the kitchen. The chain rattling behind him made his presence known as Walter went still, glancing in his direction. 

“W-... Walter... Are you okay?” He asked. This was the first time he approached him willingly, or spoke first. They both froze and stared at one another, trying to read each other's mood and motives. Walter finally let off a small sad smile, taking his hand and sat him down. 

“I’m alright little one... I’m just nervous, a little stressed.” He waved his hand as if it were nothing. 

Stressed hmm? Maybe keeping a man controlled and locked away in his house was finally getting to him. The “smash-a-window-and-run-for-the-trees” tactic clearly didn’t work, so maybe getting him relaxed and off guard would be better, even safer. 

“Why? I thought you were happy.” Gabriel tried to sound sad and innocent. 

“Oh sweetheart of course I’m happy. I’m worried about you.” 

What... He’s worried about me? How could he...

“You broke loose and got yourself hurt.” He mumbled sadly, staring down at his bandaged wrists he was holding. Gabriel's heart sank a little, that wasn't the only thing that hurt him last night, the red bruises crossed on his back said otherwise. 

“I’m just so worried about you all the time now. What if I take your eyes off you and something terrible happens!” He cried, squeezing his hand protectively. “I feel like there’s nothing I can do to guarantee your safety."

“Then.. W-why did you h-hurt me?” Gabriel rasped, tears instantly falling down his face before he had a chance to suppress them. 

“Oh no, no no sweetheart I didn’t hurt you. I corrected and disciplined you, there’s a difference, I need you to understand that. I would never hurt you.” He soothed. 

Gabriel's gut twisted with horror and confusion. He was promising only love and safety, yet his actions never reflected. Walter perked up, lifting himself to his feet. 

“I know what we can do, hang on.” He smiled, petting his hair as he walked behind him out of the kitchen. Gabriel’s eyes followed him out with confusion, holding his arms crossed nervously as he tried to guess what he was doing. His heart jolted when he heard the basement door open. 

No.

No!

No no no no no no...!

He hadn’t even realized he had jumped to his feet, his body quaking and cringing. The house shook and rattled as Walter drug something heavy up the stairs. Each time it thunked against a step, getting closer and closer, was one step further Gabriel would take to a panic attack. By the time Walter made it up the stairs he had thoroughly pressed himself into the corner trembling, the only thing not tucked away was his one leg being outstretched by the chain that wouldn’t allow him to go any further. 

Walter let out a sigh as he crossed his arms, stepping aside to show the small detailed wooden piano behind him. 

“You said you liked to play, so this should give you something to do.” He smiled. Gabriel's eyes darted from Walter to the piano, waiting for a second part like “oh, and I’m also going to tie you to a chair while you play, and every key you get wrong I’m going to belt you again” but it was only silence that followed. 

He nervously struggled to his feet using the chain to steady himself. Part of him was actually quite relieved and excited to have something to do. But the other part felt like any time not spent trying to get out of here was time wasted.

But...

He really missed playing. He had to sell his first piano and that broke his heart...

“Can I...?” He muttered with a hushed tone. Walter nodded with an approving smile, stepping aside to give him some space to approach. He took a wide path to get to it, grabbing a kitchen chair on his way over and setting it down. He slid just one leg onto the chair, still being cautious incase he had to jump back to his feet, but placing his hands on the smooth keys was instantly relaxing to him. 

The piano was beautiful, decorated with hand carved wooden detail. It wasn’t the most well kept, obviously being locked in that forbidden basement for so long, but it functioned as well as it could. He played by ear, so he was able to quickly pick up his old habits and memories of his favorite songs. He played something calming, a slow tune with a peaceful feeling flowing off every note. Not soon after he was fully relaxed in the chair playing fluently. 

Walter seemed to have gotten relaxed as well, as all the tension left. He quietly hummed along to the music as he turned on the stove for dinner. For the first time, he felt okay. He was still terrified, but he at least had something to do to keep him sane. 

"You're very talented, Gabriel." Walter beamed. 

After some time, dinner was on the table and Gabriel's fingers grew stiff. When he stopped playing the room grew silent as all the peaceful tone seemed to die with the music. Dinner looked like it fell from the heavens as usual, the smell was tempting and delicious. He sat at the table, Walter however, didn’t. He stayed standing, hovering near the counter with his hands resting. Gabriel looked up at him with a puzzled and expecting expression.

“Go ahead and eat, little one. I’ll be just a minute.” He smiled lovingly as always, but it was different this time... It was tilted, sad. Gabriel didn’t want to disobey or tense him further, so he did his best to shove food into his mouth as much as he could stomach. The stress still made it difficult to eat as every bite was forced down. 

Wait.

Something was wrong. 

Something in his view was different. He glanced over where Walter was, but was nowhere to be seen. He never heard him move, where did he-

*Clang*

Gabriel gasped, his entire body jolting as something loud snapped at his neck followed by blinding pain. He disappeared under the table, his hand covering his neck as he felt blood. 

“Wh-!.. What did you do!? Aaa!” He cried out, as the sharp pain in his neck spiked higher and higher. Walter was quick to duck under the table, a small device that was in his hands clattering to the floor. He pulled him out and cradled him in his lap while he held a napkin to his neck.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He whispered, putting pressure on the wound. 

“N-no it’s-s no-t okay!” Gabriel barked while he sobbed, his voice wobbling. 

Walter tilted his head to the side and pressed a large band aid on his neck. He let him go and backed away to give him some space as he trembled on the floor, gasping for air. 

“Wh-what did you do?” Gabriel asked, looking up at him with glossy miserable eyes.

“Imbedded a tracker into your neck.” He said, staring down at him.

“Y-you... You embedded a t-tracker... Into my neck?” He repeated back with a flat tone. 

“Yep! now you can never be lost again.” He smiled, crouching back down next to him. Tears instantly poured back into his eyes as he sobbed, Walter tried to shush him and comfort him as best as he could. He eventually lifted him in his arms and carried him to the couch, covering him with a blanket while he fidget with the TV. He hadn’t turned it on in years, but he felt like Gabriel deserved something to take his mind off of things. 

Gabriel just laid on the couch, wide eyes and panting, his hand still clamped around the band aid on his neck. The TV flashed on as they both jumped with surprise, Walter mostly because he actually managed to fix it. He sat next to Gabriel on the couch as he turned it to something fun and distracting, combing a hand soothingly through his hair as he eventually calmed down and fell asleep. 

@alien-octopus @yesthisiswhump  @lave-whump @whumpasaurus101 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hamiltonwhumpdump @just-another-whumper @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @approach-me-and-ill-cry @whump-it

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ  Thank you for reading!

[fastandtheformula1]

Bo Burnham Blurb

an: I’m obsessed w Bo rn… we’re not gonna talk about it

summary: bo catches you playing one of his songs at 3 am

pairing: bo burnham x female reader

warnings: cursing, nsfw

word count: ???

not my gif!

~

It’d be like 2:30 a.m.

He’d thought you went to sleep downstairs bc you were working late

But finds you playing one of his songs on the piano

He’d heard a soft piece of music playing and thought it was his imagination

But he finds you at his keyboard instead

He’d listen to you play for a while and close his eyes, leaning against the doorframe

After he opens his eyes, he’d sing along to it ever so softly, walking towards you

“I met a homeless guy named Rich, isn’t that terrible, I saw a flyer for a lost dog and the dog didn't have any legs”

If you messed up, he’d come from behind you and play the correct chord

You’d smile to yourself

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend the artist.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself that.”

He’d hug you from behind with this arms wrapped around your waist

Your head would be underneath his chin

You’d melt into his embrace and vice versa

His cologne from earlier in the day would still be faintly there

You’d be there for a few minutes until he’d make a stupid joke

“Ya know, you’re really pretty. Do you have a boyfriend?”

Which would make you turn around and face him

“I do, actually. He’s tall, smart, handsome, talented, considerate.”

“Is he single?”

He’d kiss you, pick you up, and lay you on the floor

He’d just look at you and…

~nsfw~

You guys would make out

His hands roaming your body

You’d tug on his hair

A few whimpers would fall from his mouth every now and again

Feeling his hot breath against your skin

His hands would drop near the inside of your thighs

You’d be a moaning mess underneath him

“Fuck, Bo.”

“God, I missed you.”

uneven breaths

He’d give you a few hickeys

Your guys’ lips would be swollen afterward

~end of nsfw~

Once you were done, you’d just stare at each other

You’d just lie on the floor together enjoying each other’s presence in silence

No space between you two at all

You guys never actually fell asleep though

“you awake?”

“No, you?”

“No.”

When the sun comes up

“I think the gods are telling us to stop being so lovey-dovey.”

“Fuck ‘em. I’m gonna stay here.”

[vminity21]

+1 | kth

Pairing: HighschoolCrush!Taehyung X StillProcessingIt!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): slight language use, angst (if you read b/w the lines), pretty much smutty kissing, hand groping, mention of alcohol, breast worship, nipple play; Rated: 18+

Summary: When a crush you had in high school unexpectedly returns to your life six years later, this is the experience you have with him when you collected the courage to invite him over to hangout.

Credit to: @suhdays​ for the amazing cover!

Inspiration comes in the form of little expectancy especially when life seems to throw a curveball you never dreamed would be a potential possibility; but, here you are, tapping upon the keyboard of your five-year-old laptop decorated in stickers of celebs you've admired over the years mingled with relevant quotes that have bustled yet again- inspiration that motivates you day by day to continue to be the human being that you are. Inspiration though can appear in lyrical melodies broadcasted globally for millions to pine over; or, published in numerous pages creating imaginary worlds where ones can escape to; or, sketched in a meticulous design to build whatever idea had been desired to come to life; or, filmed in scenes of an edited story by talented persons determined to enter the spotlight in any way they can; or, painted along a canvas in colors of calculated detail bringing forth the picture of accomplishment. Inspiration derives from a mere moment- one that sparks the instinct to gather the materials needed to pour out your heart in ways that may bring a sense of peace.

For you, it used to be in the lines of a song penciled into a crinkled notebook from your backpack hidden away for no one to discover; it used to be countless childhood journals where you expressed your inward battles in order to find enough solace to sleep at night. You've lost your touch over the years because life changes in the blink of an eye, as you grow older, and work can distract from the time taken to focus on yourself; thankfully graduating college to gain the degree you now behold landed you a job, one you hope lasts for many years, and you are currently living in a two-bedroom apartment with your best friend, Monica, who's presently slumbering as you brush some loose strands of hair from your vision.

Your dog is curled at the end of your bed as you write, which is something that you haven't done in what feels like forever, but the reasoning behind this sporadic urge ignited when the familiar pair of brown eyes from six years prior, re-entered your world without your preparation and his presence from a recent night shared seems to echo in every space of your brain to where you've finally had enough. It's about time to reach out, the devil on your shoulder whispers, but the angel sitting on the opposite begs to differ. Shaking your head, you pause momentarily, cracking your knuckles before resting your forehead on the desk, exhaling slowly while the memory of his touch seems to haunt your skin.

He was someone you once admired in high school- roaming the hallways where girls giggled giddily each time he'd pass by; star of the basketball team, rising popularity to the point everyone knew his name, collecting homework answers from budding friendships, and it all began once he started his junior year at a new school- the school where you attended. But the difference that set him apart from the typical cliché's of the prevalent students you never seemed to relate to, was that he talked to absolutely everybody and anybody- no judgment on what group the person took part in, his kindness won the hearts of many other than the evident attraction of his physical features. He didn't care who you were or what you were into, he would be your friend, and that, considering he was viewed on a higher level, made him even more special.

Despite never admitting it then, you had a crush on him. He was more of an acquaintance, but you enjoyed his company when he came around, and when a past friend, who is now married with a few kids, used to have a crush on the same person, your heart sank, because with every guy thinking she was hot, you felt as though you would never stand a chance. Especially not with this guy who made your hands jittery and the beat in your chest skip- the guy who is none other than Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung would frequent the chorus room at times when you and your past friend would practice music pieces and he always was fond of your singing voice- something he praised you for often, while his attention was received from his talent regarding sports. Something he was so good at that it was spread that he may have gained quite the scholarship for college if he decided to go. There were memories of bravery where you seized the day just to steal a conversation and a hug; at one time, scribbling the words 'hot af' with an arrow pointing where he signed your friend, Min Yoongi's, yearbook; Yoongi playing it off as though he had no idea who the culprit was when Taehyung asked who wrote it. Utter surprise can't even fathom when you along with Taehyung were voted 'Most Likely to be Famous' by your graduating class when senior year was conquered. The inside joke was for you to hold the basketball while he placed his hands upon the keys of a piano, the picture you still couldn't process happened, but always remained grateful for.

Six years flew by and the conversation never necessarily held, but there were the rare messages from social media where he'd reach out hoping all had been well with you. Interestingly enough, a cover you posted harmonizing with a fellow singer happened to be his absolute favorite, one of the few Instagram posts he'd commented on, and one of the few singing videos he continuously would listen to repeatedly without your knowledge until a few weeks ago when he revealed that to you. A cover that is now near to be a four-year-old video that he still finds uplifting when he hears you and the way your voice blended so well with the other female. Your mind is reeling because after all this time, and even now, there are remains of the aftershock, trying to forget the feel of him, when there's no way you can, not with everything so fresh on your mind. So fresh on your heart.

It all occurred when Yoongi, who kept in touch with you occasionally after graduation brought you up to Taehyung who happened to think of you earlier when listening to his favorite cover of yours, and he agreed he'd like to hang out. He asked if his friend, Hoseok could join you, Monica, and Yoongi which of course you said yes to learn how sweet you found it, that he had traveled within the span of a day after visiting his grandparents, because he is a man of his word, planned to come see you even though the drive was five hours out of his way. The night was filled with so much laughter mixed with serious conversations to the point the card game that was supposed to be played was never finished, and it sprung the desire of wanting to see Taehyung again, and you couldn't come to terms with never knowing so after some encouragement from Monnie and Yoongi, you messaged T to hang out a few days later, but never opened his reply until you were safely home from work.

Taehyung: Gotcha! Hmmm, I haven't decided on what I intend on doing. Either being with family or hanging out with friends. If I don't hang out with family, you could be my plus 1 or bring whomever or vice versa

[Y/N]: Sorry I just got home from work! I'll definitely be your plus 1 if hanging with family doesn't work out! Sounds like a plan!

He asked if you wanted anything from the store when it was confirmed he was on his way which you responded with your typical answer of no, and with music playing from your Bluetooth speaker, you were highly humiliated when you lost track of four minutes of time, opening a message from him to see that he had been there, at your door. Heart racing you rushed to unlock it, head spinning when you saw he leaned against the stair railing with a plastic bag of two Arbor Mist wine bottles dangling from his hand, him promising everything was fine despite your profuse apologies- him slipping his phone in his back pocket while he followed you into your home.

Monnie happened to be staying the night with her family, so it would be just the two of you tonight, besides your dog who bounced at his legs while he reached down to pet her fluffy head. Taking in the sight of him, now that was something you found hard to believe. Just a simple pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt with a black jacket complementing the dark tendrils of hair spread across his forehead leading to the carefully sculpted lining of his jaw nearly brought you to your knees, but you held it together long enough to settle across from him at your dining room table. He had taken off his shoes at the door remembering upon a few days prior, and he set out the wine while you jumped to retrieve wine glasses (Yoongi happened to purchase for you) while banter still related to greetings.

One thing that truly intrigued you when first seeing Taehyung after six years were words, he had said that touched your heart more than you'd like to profess. "That's why I try to enjoy every moment with people because you never know what day will be your last," and you knew right then, that if there was anyone you wanted to share a moment with, it was him, and there he was, right before you, smiling about something you said while the sound of the fruity liquid-filled each glass.

"I really truly do not understand what you are so afraid of. What do you even have to lose?" Monnie tinkered with the lens to her camera while she sauntered through the living room. Exasperated from anxiety, you sucked in your lips before teasingly throwing her the side-eye.

"My dignity,"

"Oh c'mon," she paused, lifting a brow. You had been talking nonstop on how bad you wanted to invite Taehyung over, but fear of rejection including the fear of humiliation seemed to overwhelm you, although deep down you knew your best friend in the entire world was correct. You did not nor do you have anything to lose.

"Well!" You squawked, raising your palms dramatically in the air before slapping them to the sides of your thighs, "Why the hell would Kim Taehyung ever want to hang out with me anyway? Do you not see how farfetched this all is?"

"Bold of you to assume that my life isn't already farfetched enough as it is-"

"Not! The point!"

Monnie sighed, and when she saw the way your shoulders slumped in disappointment that shouldn't have been an issue, to begin with, she stepped closer, placing her hand on your shoulder, "First off, you are overthinking this, and you shouldn't. Besides, I think after hanging out as a group, he only sees you as a friend, meaning no expectations. So, go into it with that mindset okay? I'm sure he'd love to hang out with you. Secondly," she smiled, her serene expression filled with promises she always kept, "You've waited six years for this. I think you should ask him to hang out."

"You really think so?" Your grin reached your hopeful eyes, and the feeling in your chest seemed to react more positively despite your earlier turmoil.

"Yeah. The dude owes us a chair anyways,"

"Ah!" You cackled, back pressed against the dining room table as you remembered literally a few days ago when Taehyung accidentally broke a spindle of the chair in half with his foot when Yoongi scared him just by suddenly walking down the hallway. "I don't think I've ever seen a man so embarrassed."

"I'm not saying to hold it over his head, but," Monnie held up her index finger, "I think that gives him enough reason to come back," she giggled, setting her camera on the dining room table before waltzing into the kitchen.

You shrugged, "At least we can still sit on it."

"Look at it, it's staring at me," Taehyung pointed swiftly at where the vacant spindle would have been, your laughter reverberated throughout the space.

"T, really, you do not owe us new chairs. I promise, it's fine," you reassured him, realizing your cheeks were sore from how much you'd been smiling since he entered your 'realm of refuge' as you liked to describe your apartment. He snapped a picture of it, probably with the intention of getting a new chair for you and Monica regardless, and you found that appreciative although you would be happy if he didn't.

Shit. You pause from the computer screen, leaning back into your chair before folding your arms tight across your chest. Eyeballing the cursor, your vision narrows as it blinks, waiting for you to add more words to the memory that seems to spin in a cycle with the subtle goal of not stopping. Or, so you figure. If recalling every little detail isn't already hard enough, reliving the reminiscence of his fingers twirling in your hair, his sweet laugh when he looked at you, or the way he held you so tight-

But, everything in between, leading up to those mesmerizing flashes are just as important to you as what it led to. Maybe it was the conversation- the three hours of conversation before the move to the sofa which it was hard to fully focus on what else was being said because how could you properly concentrate when the one person, you'd been so worried about spending time with was seriously conversing with you like the pair of you had been friends your whole lives?

Miraculously, you were able to gather the stories of past vacations that resulted in mild disappointment revolving around the complaints of people surrounding him, or the goal of visiting as many places as possible leading Taehyung to scribble down a list of where he'd been to reveal you both have equally been to the same amount of places. Of course, the thrill of going on a mini adventure with him brought an excitement you haven't felt in a while; even the story of why he was transferred to your high school years ago due to a misunderstanding, and when the pair of you made your way to the couch, he nestled into one corner while you gladly took the other, wishing you could snuggle closer but fear prevented you from doing so.

It seemed as though that he didn't want to watch the movie anyhow, because he talked to you as though he never wanted to stop, and eventually it led to you asking one too many times if he was okay with spending the rest of the night with you. "It's up to you, I'll stay if you want me too," he promised, the way your heart fluttered when you replied, "Yes, can you please stay? I don't want you to go."

"Alright, alright! I'll stay," he smiled widely, both of his large hands reaching out, and there was not one ounce of hesitation from you- your hands grasped his before your dog jumped to beg for attention, trying to lick at his face causing your hands to undo. Laughter was contagious with Taehyung, and still cuddled into the corner of the couch, you were so elated that he was going to stay, you reached to hug him, his arms wrapping around you, the feel of your bodies aligning putting the biggest smile on your face. It was crazy how everything was seeming to fall into place- the stars aligning as though it was all magic; and, you couldn't get past how right everything felt. How right he felt. Pulling away, his smile never left him, "Are you shy?" His arm remained draped around your shoulders, and timidly you peer at his surprised gape, his black hair almost covered his crescent eyes.

"I mean... Yeah, I can be," you murmured, reaching to hug him again, but something washed over you this time, a thought that had crossed your mind repeatedly that you just couldn't take it anymore. The side of his face was blurred, placing your palm upon his cheek, and without even a moment of doubt, you kissed him. A sudden decision, but one of the best ones you could have made.

His lips were so soft, the way his mouth just seemed to mold with yours for only a few mere seconds, and the shock on his face when you pulled away, paired with the realization that his hands were held in the air, you hadn't expected his reaction. Shit! You cursed inwardly, immediately jumping back to persistently make sure he was okay; even when he moved to cuddle with you, him claiming everything was fine, but that he couldn't believe you kissed him being the both of you never once saw this coming especially six years ago during the high school days. His hand was fidgety as he swiftly rubbed your shoulder, your head buried on his chest while your mind spun in a continuous loop of how you could not believe that you kissed Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung.

He became quiet- too quiet, concern etched in your expression, maneuvering yourself back to the opposite corner of the couch, so you could face him. "T, are you sure you're okay? Did I freak you out?"

"No, no, I just can't believe you kissed me," he was in awe, eyes dazed as he ran his slim fingers through his hair, "Like, really I never saw this coming,"

"I mean, have you looked in the mirror?" You teased, knowing damn well he'd been aware of you finding him attractive, and he shook his head in dismissal of your compliment as he chuckled; it took you a whole sixty seconds to realize you were holding his hand, fingers linked, and him asking if you were nervous due to your clammy palm, though you tried to swear up and down you were not, the next round of words he said nearly brought you to tears when he finally spoke.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short," he looked you in the eyes without any faltering, although you tilted your head in mild confusion as to why he was saying this, to begin with, "I don't think you realize how much of an impact you've made on others, especially guys," ah, he was letting you down easy, and you knew it, but you're too stunned to speak as you listened, "I don't think you give yourself enough credit either. You're a great singer, you're pretty much a musician, you love animals, you have a job, you live on your own. Really, you shouldn't sell yourself short-"

"T," you breathed, pleading almost, but trying not to make it obvious, but he never broke eye contact, "We don't have to date or anything, I just- I just wanted a moment with you." You mentioned what inspired you to spend time with him- exposing how a few nights ago when he said he wanted to enjoy every moment with people- you knew you wanted to have a moment with him, too. Memories from high school were spoken momentarily, thirty minutes passing by which included a made-up handshake as well as the subtle twirl of his fingers in your hair- him complimenting how good your hair looked which made you blush even more.

Just when you thought he wasn't already smooth enough, you noticed Taehyung started teasing your dog, her pouncing at his chest before he'd lean in closer to you. Eyebrows scrunching, it took you a hot second to realize what he was doing. Each time Taehyung would scoot closer to you, he'd kiss you, sending the pair of you in boisterous laughter when your dog would try to break the kisses by jumping in between your faces. The more your lips would touch, it'd last a bit longer and longer, your hand clinging to the side of his jacket to pull him closer when things really started moving fast, eventually your dog left the room with the hint that attention was no longer available for her.

Still lip-locked, Taheyung's hands gripped your hips while you willingly moved to straddle him, arms resting on the top of the couch on either side of his head, the tip of your tongue glided along his, while he fanned his hands along your ass. You refrained from moaning into his kiss despite how bad you wanted to, yet you held yourself together, involuntarily grinding your clothed heat where his erection was felt. T smacked your ass before slithering the tips of his fingers to your shirt, slowly unbuttoning one by one.... One by one. His eyes were hazed from how much he was craving your mouth, and with a seductive nod in his direction, he continued until he made it to the final goal, your kisses never planning to stop, the sides of your shirt being brushed away for him to take in the sight of you.

"Ooh my God," his eyes darkened in evident lust when he saw the way your black bra cupped your breasts, "Oh my God," his voice deepened, him hardly knowing what to do with himself while your smirk remained subtlety on your mouth. Though you hadn't needed him to ask, he politely waited for your permission to touch your chest, a quick pang of frilly nerves ghosted your stomach.

"Yeah," you breathed seductively, gradually moving to capture his lips, trying to hold back a giggle when he gently moved his hands to your back, "You're not going to find it there," you mused, referring to the clip. He paused as if panicked, "It's in the front," you finally admitted, but failing miserably, Taehyung let you take initiative, you unclipped your bra uncovering what is now widening his brown eyes. "Oh my God!" His reaction made you want to cum right then and there, especially when his fingers made their way to squeeze your nipples when his mouth returned to yours. Taehyung worshiped your breasts, and for some odd, yet arousing reason, you lived for it.

You're uncertain of when the tv was switched off, and even now, as your hands continue to fly across the keyboard, one thing you do recall, one of the lingering memories of the evening was your shirt being off, thrown onto the floor mingled with your bra, and without any warning, Taehyung hoisted you in the air, your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso while he tightened his hold around your body. His steps were painfully careful, kissing you roughly while your arms kept their place behind his neck, and the direction was being taken to your bedroom where your heart pounded so anxiously to be. His jacket was shed before the bold act, and all that was left was his gray t-shirt and jeans. Laying you down with a bounce from your mattress, he remained above you, and your eyes refused to stray especially when he reached to remove his shirt- his smooth skin greeting yours sending waves of goosebumps spreading among your limbs.

There was no one like him in your eyes, and there never would be. Not in your heart. And with how perfect everything was going; you were not prepared for how hard it was going to be to stop before things went too far. Because what if he doesn't exactly feel the same? He was letting you down easy not even an hour ago, and here you were, hopes so high, you weren't sure how you were going to erase them back down. He kissed you until you couldn't breathe, your fingers dug into your comforter, while his palms glided all over your frame for however long you let him, but when he went to remove your leggings, you halted him.

Now, this is where your heart aches when you relive this part, because a conversation was held, one where you mentioned what if someone catches feelings if the both of you decided to solely be just friends with benefits? Taehyung said all you had to do was communicate with him because he was easy to get along with, and you've known this about him for six years. He was always someone easy to talk to, and you knew he would never treat you poorly over a situation like this. And, he hadn't. You made the executive decision to not sleep with him for you wanted him to remember you as the woman you are, and the woman, you've always been, and with the fear of going all the way being something that could change his image of you, you were satisfied to hear the loud echoes of his snoring after you changed into pajamas, gazing at his sleeping demeanor before you drifted into slumber as well.

When the morning came, you were not ready for him to leave, but he asked if you would walk him out, him throwing on his shirt and jacket while you rushed to brush your teeth. T asked if you had any other plans for the rest of the day which you proceeded to answer honestly with a no, as he mentioned that he was going to get breakfast.

"Let me know when you make it home," you said tenderly, "I want to know you're safe,"

"I will," he promised before you embraced him, turning just enough to place a peck to his cheek. It was his smile that decided to enter your recollection- the boxy smile that would plague you until the day you accept that you will never forget it.

And when you opened the door to the apartment where he gracefully waltzed through, you merely caught a glimpse of him leaving, ahead of you quietly shutting the door to whatever could have been.

Or, what could have started a beautiful story that has yet to unfold.

[mythiccheroacademia]

“All these kisses and hugs is not shit. You a damn drug, you're toxic.”                          —Kehlani

Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader Context: Everything is the same, you’re just pro-heroes. Oh, and Bakugo defintely broke your heart when you were younger, but for some reason, you two don’t want to act like that happened?  Warnings: explicit language, sexual content (but no real smut), a couple laws were broken

Manga Recolor by XCamykoX on DeviantArt

All characters are 18+

A/N: You to me when I give you the look for feigning for this man. I swear I love Izuku. I just had to do it for the drabble. You’ll understand in a few lines. Also, idk if Hampton is a real place. I just saw it in  a hotel ad and went along with it. Enjoy <3

Bakugo Katsuki | Toxic

Bakugo Bakugo Bakugo.

He was all that was in your mind and you knew it wasn’t supposed to be like that. He wasn’t supposed to make your stomach quiver or your legs tremble with anticipation. He was supposed to be the hallmark of your heartbroken memories—not the pillar of your desire.

You groaned before mentally making a verdict. You bolted upright and decided to trade in your battery-powered boyfriend for the real one.

Izuku.

Your boyfriend, you reminded yourself.

You shook your head. Today was a good time to be risky. You felt comfortable in your skin for once and confident enough that the right picture would make the usually reserved man run across town in four seconds flat.

Giggling in excitement, you felt your stomach fill with butterflies. You traded your pajamas for the white lacy lingerie you’d been keeping in your closet. You analyzed yourself in the mirror, adjusting the straps of the thigh highs for good measure. Smoothing down your fit, you grabbed your phone and tried to take an endearing snapshot of yourself.

The results made you frown. This wouldn’t do. It wasn’t demanding enough. Your eyes traveled around the room and your face brightened as an idea popped up in your head. You set the timer and set your phone against a stand.

The round of camera clicks allowed you to relax. Soon enough, each pose came easier than the last.

When you were done, you almost skipped to your phone. You couldn’t help the string of giggles that spilled from your lips as you scrolled through the photos.

These were the ones. They were enough to a send wave of goosebumps over your skin. The courage and exhilarant thrill that chilled your spine fueled you to caption the seductive pictures.

I’m feeling very lonely. Come keep me company?

You bit your lip to quell your nervous shivers. The photos were sent and all that was left for you to do was wait. You flopped face first on your bed and hopefully looked on your phone for that thrilling response of—I want you in X position by the time I get there—or something along those lines.

Things that Bakugo would say when you’d—

Stop it. Bakugo isn't who you want. It’s Midoriya.

You kept your thoughts positive as you scrolled through your texts. That is, until you noticed the messages weren’t conversations between you and your boyfriend.  

Your heart sunk into your gut when read the contact name. Flicking to the number, your throat dried up as you read that the area code was 485 instead of 487.

No no no no no no no no no no no—

You scrambled onto your knees, panting as if you had run a 10k. Your chest ached as tears burned your eyes, your fingers fruitlessly scrambed on the smart screen for any type of recall button.

“Oh fuck,” you cursed.

Swallowing the rock in your throat, you sniffed and blinked away the tears. This was your fault. You decided to go ahead and act like a horny teenaged airhead instead of doing things the mature way. There was no point in crying about it now.

You forced yourself to take a quick look of who you sent the private pictures to.

Bakugo Katsuki.  

Great.

You threw yourself down onto the bed, this time, letting a couple tears fall down your cheeks. You fucked up. Big time. Not only had you miserably failed at distracting yourself from the same man that you were supposed to stay away from, but now he had even more things to hold over your head.

As if leaving you for your best friend in college wasn’t bad enough.

You would never be able to live this down. How the hell were you supposed to face him tom—

Your phone rung.

Dread stung filled your chest. Without even having to look, you knew who was calling. His name ran bold across your homepage and the rhythmic piano song filled the corners of your room.

Couldn’t he just let you wallow in your misery? Did he really have to add on to the torment you would undoubtedly face tomorrow at work?  Maybe if you just let it ring, he’d leave you alone.

…As if. This was Bakugo you were talking about.

It was better to face him now.

You pressed the answer button and spoke.

“I know I screwed up really bad, but remember how I thought I was dyslexic? The area codes looked the same out of the corner of my eye and I didn’t mean to send this to you and it was totally meant for Izuku—“

A deep husky voice reached your ears sending waves of pleasure to your core.

“Y/N L/N, what the fuck kind of game are you playing?”

The last time he used your full name was when his hands were rubbing down the hills and valleys of your body. You nervously played with the strap on your shoulders and continued.

“Bakugo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m stupid. Just forget I ever sent the pictures and—?“ Your brows creased together as the sound of highspeed winds flowed through the speaker. “A-are you driving?”  

The hero’s foot fell harder upon the gas pedal. “How the fuck can I forget about that when I know you own the lingerie you have in my dreams?” Bakugo blared the horn of his car and swerved around a slower vehicle. “You make me regret living in shitty Hampton.”

Your eyes widened. Hampton? Was he driving 45 minutes to—

“No, Katsuki. Go back. I’m begging you.” You didn’t realize the silk-laced voice was yours until seconds after.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you begging for that reason. You wanna play games? Fine. When I get there, I’ll make sure to play every position in the book. But for now, I’ll entertain you. I know this is really rushed but, baby, are you wet?”

Your mouth was dry but your body was flushed. You couldn’t lie to yourself any longer. You loved it when his desperate voice was still as gruff as it was. You loved the way he’d become frenzied with arousal over a few pics. For crying out loud, he was taking a 45-minute drive to your house because of three pictures.

But Izuku. Simple, boring, good-two-shoe, Izuku. He was your boyfriend. You couldn’t let Bakugo bust in here and take you—no matter how much you wanted him to.

Besides, were you going to let the same man that broke your heart reclaim the pieces just because you were horny?

You sighed.

“Look, Bakugo. I would really appreciate it if you just deleted the pictures and forgot about it.” You gave a distorted chuckle. “Or you could delete it and make fun of me for the next twenty years. Anything, you want.”

“I want you prince/ss—“

You hissed at the nickname.

“Baby…”—you couldn’t even be bothered to stress over the pet name—"Please go back. From what I hear, you're breaking twenty-five state laws and twenty-four federal ones. It’s two in the morning and we both have to be at work in five hours. And I don’t wanna deal with the paparazzi if they catch you here. So go back home. For me?”

Choice words flew from his lips. Then there was the sound of tires screeching to a halt. Bakugo heavily exhaled.

“Damn you, Y/N. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

Relief came as a nervous chuckle. You placed your hand on your chest. “Thank you and, again, I’m so sorry. We can laugh about this later today. And—“

“But you still haven’t answered my question.”

You inhaled sharply at the curt tone of his voice.

“W-what question?”

“Are you wet?”

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 18

i'm sorry this is a few days late!! it's been real Headless Chicken time around here for a number of reasons, but, here you go!

this chapter is also known as, "LUKANETTE SHIPPERS COME GET Y'ALL JUICE: Part 1"

to: Marinette hey… um. hey. just. checking if you’re okay. those postcards came out beautiful.

from: Marinette shouldn’t i be asking you that?

to: Marinette i’ll live. i’m a Couffaine, “chaos” is practically my middle name. …so… how can i pay you? cash? one of those money apps?

from: Marinette just get better 😊 that’s all.

Getting better shouldn’t feel like such a tall order. But like with other affairs, Luka will just say it’s his fault and call it a night.

It only takes a few days for his knee to go from “bulging, throbbing mess” to “sort of tolerable,” and he doesn’t understand how the time is so annoying and yet so relieving. He has to call out of work because there’s no way they—or Juleka— will let him bike or even hobble around Paris with an injury like that. But it opens up his schedule for more band practice. And more chances to talk to Bubbles. Or, more accurately, convince Bubbles that he can still hold his own and shred the setlist to pieces.

And yeah, he tries his hand at perfecting Marinette’s song, but it barely comes out any better. Whatever melody is swirling in his head sounds wrong on paper, and even worse on guitar. Checking the posts of his drafts doesn’t help, either; the likes and comments and reposts have mostly come to a halt, no matter how many times he bumps the latest version to the top of his profile.

He thinks, for the most part, that it’s doomed to live in his head forever. And he hates it. Hates that it doesn’t sound right or good. Hates that he’ll never get to share what he really hears, what he really feels... with anyone.

The best he can manage is hopping on the metro, with his guitar and his amp and his busking license tied around the belt loop of his jeans, and finding just the right stone ledge or just the right bench at the bridge with the padlocks. Sometimes he doodles, strums out whatever comes to mind and hopes it resonates with someone. Some then he takes requests or plays fan favorites, the kind that earns him a smile or even an extra euro in his case.

He’s got to make the money somehow.

One time, he plays by the fountain at the Place des Vosges. For the parents who need something to tide them over while their children ask for balloons and skin their elbows and ride the carousel one too many times. He thinks about angles, and hearing colors, and pear tarts fresh from the oven, and business cards that look like flyers. He thinks about the color blue, too. Ocean blue. But he doesn’t play it. He’ll save it for a better occasion, when he’s not weighed down with cutting deals and combing through backstory that he’s not quite sure he’ll ever earn. When he’s not thinking about Marinette dropping a few coins in his case at the padlock bridge and almost looking guilty about it.

He shakes his head and gathers his paltry earnings for the day into the side pocket of his gig bag, stretches his leg to see if it’s worth putting weight on again. It doesn’t protest too much, thank God; at least he’ll be home before it gets too dark. But the sound of music stops him once he crosses the street. A radio. And it’s playing outside.

And it’s just over his head.

It takes him one moment to realize he’s stopped in front of Tom & Sabine’s, and another to look up. There is Marinette, watering some flowers in a box and resting her chin in her hand. Humming along to the music. when she meets his eyes, it sounds like her. Like exactly what he’s been looking for. Good, and right, and perfect.

And... sad.

The one thing Luka’s grateful for is that he wasn’t standing there long. Instead of fear or panic, he’s only caught up in mild surprise, and to his relief, so is Marinette. He readjusts his weight on his good leg, and he manages a wave with his free hand. “You know,” he says with a weak laugh, “we really gotta stop meeting like this.”

The smile Marinette gives him in return is just as sad as her humming, but harder to read. He doesn’t know if it’s telling her she agrees or disagrees, or if she doesn’t want him to go. Or if it’s something else entirely, something he’s not a part of. “Hey,” she says, leaning over the balcony to get a better look at him. Or maybe just at his leg.

He glances down at it, gives it a little shake, and shrugs in the face of the urge to wince. “It’ll be fine,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. “I’ll be back at work in a day or two. But, y’know... let me know if you’d rather I go busk somewhere else.”

Which, he’ll admit, is code for, let me know if you don’t want to see me anymore. He’s given her enough reasons for her to feel that way.

If Marinette’s somehow waded through to the real meaning of it, she doesn’t show it, and Luka doesn’t know if that’s a good thing. Instead, she leans over to pause her music, brushes her hair out of her eyes, and says, “Do you... wanna come upstairs?”

Well.

He wasn’t expecting that.

Luka can’t get any words out, so all he does is nod dumbly and limp toward the side door. On a better day, he might have been able to scale the bakery and hop over the balcony railing, if all his work on the Liberty is anything to go by. But maybe his guitar wouldn’t necessarily appreciate that. And neither would Mr. Dupain or Mrs. Cheng; he’d probably scare them half to death. Not to mention that maybe this is the sort of stunt reserved for Actually Cool People, and Luka is only ever Actually Cool in the recesses of his imagination or with a guitar in his hands.

Marinette meets him by the side door and lets him in with barely a sound. It doesn’t seem like she’s trying to sneak him in, the way she might have if they were in high school. If she might have even pulled off something like that in high school. But they slip into the apartment with Marinette’s whispered explanation that her father’s closing up shop and her mother’s getting ready for a dinner date. It reminds him, as they head to her room and she shows him how to hoist up onto the balcony, of all the dates his ma tried to go on. And how one day, she just stopped trying, and didn’t shed a tear over it.

Maybe, he thinks as he leaps up on the weight of one leg, he’s built for something like that. Or should be.

Marinette lets him take the deck chair so he can rest his leg, despite his weak insistence that he’s fine. She doesn’t go back to watering the flowers, or even leaning on the railing and giving the city that wistful look he thought was only reserved for Adrien Agreste. Instead, she sits cross-legged on the floor, and she watches him, never lingering on one part of him for too long. Like she’s expecting him to say something. Maybe it’s payback, in the end, for all the times she must have caught him.

“Hey,” he finally says to break through the quiet. “That song you were listening to... Can you play it again?”

She jolts to attention then, nods without a word, makes a grab for her phone. With a few taps, the song bleeds to life with a few piano notes, the rise of a few violins, the thrum of a cello. Luka thinks he’s heard this before, once. The words are all in English, so he doesn’t quite know what they’re saying. All he knows is the blue. It’s electric, it’s swelling in his chest, buzzing under his skin, closing his eyes. It sounds...

Like the ocean.

Like a world Marinette’s pulling him into. Her world. And he’s stepping into it. Just for a while. Or like, perhaps, just for that while, they’re meeting in the middle.

She must know what the song is about. She can wade through the colors and the sound, right to the words, as she sings to herself in accented English, as her voice dips low but not quite low enough, as her breath snags on the notes it can’t hold for very long. Maybe that’s why she seems so sad. Or maybe it’s something else.

“That song sounds like your eyes,” he says once the violins fade. It sounds like what I’ve been looking for.

Marinette looks at him like he’s lost his mind, and maybe he has. But there’s a softness to it. Like maybe no one’s ever said anything like that to her before. Like, secretly, she’d spent years wishing someone would. “What?”

“Oh, uh. It’s...” He can’t tell if it’s the music, or the evening sky, or Marinette that’s making it hard to snap back to himself. Maybe it’s all three. “It’s... that sound-color thing I told you about—”

“No, I—I figured.” Marinette fumbles as she turns down the volume. He hardly thought her the type, but she does it like it’s something she’s done for ages. Like she’s tapping into someone she used to be. “You... think about my eyes?”

Luka can feel his face burning, his stomach lurching. He’s overthinking, he knows it, but somehow it doesn’t feel wrong for him to say, “I’ve been trying to get them right for a long time.”

She gives him a confused look at first, but understanding cracks across her face once he unzips his gig bag, sets up the amp, and sets his guitar in his lap.

“Can you play it again?” he asks. It’s quiet, and unsure, but there’s a tinge of hope to it. “I want to get it right.”

Marinette’s eyes go wide, and her cheeks turn pink under the delicate string lights. It seems like she holds onto her breath for longer than she means to, but she nods, and she does that fumbling thing again as she reaches for her phone. Once those first piano notes trickle out, she looks to him expectantly. That’s all it takes for his fingers to find the strings. For his heart to find that ocean blue. He doesn’t quite copy the melody note for note; instead, he finds the little pockets where his music fits, and he makes it sound a little fuller. A little more like her.

Maybe it’s not perfect. But it’s good enough.

Somewhere along the way, Luka closed his eyes, and when he opens them again, he finds Marinette sitting closer—just across from him, in fact. She’s huddled up with her chin on her knees, all but marveling at him in silence. When she finally speaks, it’s after she’s paused the next song, and it’s only to breathe, “Wow.”

Luka’s not feeling particularly flirtatious; actually, the most he does is laugh sheepishly and rub the back of his neck. “I’m not so good with words,” he says. “But music gets me pretty close to what I want to say. So… maybe I was wrong about not having an angle. Maybe my thing is playing people.”

Marinette snaps out of it long enough to laugh, all breath, and say, “Where I’ve been, that sounds an awful lot like you’re a con man.”

“I’m not a con man, I mean... what people sound like. Their hearts, or... the parts of them that are most beautiful. That sound like that”— he gestures toward the speaker, and then up to the sky—”or remind us that... whatever we’re made of, it came from up there. Somewhere. That’s what I wanna think about, when I play…”

He catches himself and goes silent, but Marinette’s already giving him a meaningful look, teeth sinking into her lip. Somewhere along the line, her face went right to scarlet.

“Me,” she says. “That’s what you were playing in the park. Me.”

Luka doesn’t know how much of him has been discovered, but he keeps quiet all the same. He won’t give any more of himself away. It’s only as he’s about to apologize—for what, he’s not entirely sure—that Marinette cuts him off.

“Look, I… I need to tell you about something.”

He grips his guitar more tightly, because his phone is too far out of reach, and all the alarm bells go off.

[chilling-seavey]

Amoureux - Alfred’s Birth Story

A/N In Daniel and Louisa’s time period of the early to mid 1800s, childbirth was a dangerous thing and the statistics weren’t in the peoples’ favour in terms of survival rates. If it wasn’t the mothers passing away during delivery, it was the babies. This is one of those stories.

T/W Detailed descriptions of labour and delivery, major birth complications, stillbirth/infant death, and grief. 

August 24, 1829

Daniel played softly, his fingers dancing lightly over the keys to fill the conservatory with gentle music. Louisa sat at his side on the small piano bench, quite pregnant, and nursing her swollen stomach with two gentle hands wrapped around it, protecting. The children played together quietly on the rug across the large room with a few of the nannies from the palace staff. It was calm in the room but Louisa was stressed.

“Anything yet?” Daniel asked, glancing over at his wife as the song he was playing came to an end.

Louisa shook her head and rubbed her hands gently over her stomach with her gaze downcast, “He or she is still very much quiet.”

Daniel shifted to face towards her a little better on the piano bench and reached out a hand to brush over her belly, “Give Dada a little kick, sleepy one.”

There was nothing.

“It’s hard work growing into a whole person, isn’t it?” Daniel whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of his wife’s growing belly right beside where his hand rested. He straightened back up and brushed a kiss over Louisa’s cheek before turning back to the piano, “Maybe something with a bit more tempo to liven you up.”

By the time lunch came around, Louisa wasn’t feeling very hungry so she opted to go upstairs to rest instead. The staff took the children to the dining room while Daniel offered to take his wife to bed. She took the stairs slowly, one hand on the railing and the other tucked in her husband’s own as he took each slow step with her. Daniel never rushed her. He watched her with care and concern and even helped to hold her dress up and out of the way so she wouldn’t trip as she stepped.

About halfway up, Louisa stopped and heaved a deep breath.

Daniel waited with her to catch her breath.

But then her hand was tightening its grip on his own and her bottom lip wedged itself between her teeth and she let out a pained cry that echoed through the palace. A few of the staff came running but Daniel was already right there with her, nearly holding his wife up all on his own in the middle of the staircase.

“Louisa.” he said softly, wincing as she gripped tighter to his hand and pressed her other just under the swell of her stomach.

She cried out again just as Mary, her lady-in-waiting, appeared behind her to see what was the matter. Daniel still held the front of Louisa’s dress up and his eye was caught by the little drops of red that were falling onto the step they were standing on.

“Oh mon Dieu.” Louisa cried, clinging onto Daniel as he and Mary started to help her up the stairs to her bedroom.

Some of the other staff got right to work cleaning the blood from the floors and the nannies kept the children occupied as word spread through Highgrove that something wasn’t quite right with the lady of the house.

Louisa was striped from her day clothes and left in a white nightgown and set back in bed as the doctor was called for. Daniel stayed right at her side, letting her grip onto his hand as she laboured and stained the white sheets in red.

“What is happening?” Louisa asked loudly, fear apparent in her voice.

“Just a little blood, miss.” Mary assured her a gently as she could. “The doctor should be here any moment.”

“You’re alright.” Daniel whispered reassuringly to his wife, tucked right up at her side, and brushed her strawberry-blonde hair out of her face as sweat was forming at her hairline. “You’re just fine.”

The ladies in the room bustled around to get everything prepared for a birth – earlier than the doctor had calculated or expected. Louisa’s screams of agony seemed to keep tensions high as the staff worked quickly to tend to her and keep her as comfortable as possible as she progressed quickly. She had done this five times before, had delivered three boys and two girls into the world, and yet this time the blood that stained her nightgown and her bedsheets was a first.

The doctor came swiftly and hurried over to the foot of the bed to assess the young mother, tucking her stained nightgown up over her knees as she laid with them spread for him. Louisa bit down on the side of her arm as the doctor checked her out and Daniel watched him with bated breath for a verdict.

“You are in fact labouring early, miss.” the doctor said as he sat back from her and rested her nightgown back down to keep her decent in the room full of people.

“What’s with the blood?” Daniel asked quickly.

“The baby might be in distress so it is crucial that we get him or her out as soon as possible.”

“I am going to die!” Louisa sobbed, gritting her teeth and screaming out as another painful contraction ripped through her.

“No. Don’t you dare say that.” Daniel scolded softly, pressing a strong kiss to her temple.

“We will do our best, miss.” the doctor said, his attempt at reassurance not meaning much.

Louisa squirmed uncomfortably on the bed, burying her face in Daniel’s chest as she wailed, staining his shirt in tears. He could only cradle her head and shush her softly and try not to think about the unthinkable.

The doctor kept a very close eye on her as she progressed, trying to hurry her along the best he could as he prepared for birth. Louisa ended up pulling off her nightgown to labour completely naturally and no one dare question her. For the last five births she did so naked so the sixth would be no different. It was how she felt most comfortable and no one was to question that.

Daniel sat beside her like he was glued there, letting her grip his hand between his soft kisses to her head and her cheek every once in a while, whispering reassuring words into her ear no matter how much she swore in French until the words echoed off the walls.

By quarter to 2 in the afternoon, the doctor declared Louisa ready to deliver and the trembling frightened young woman was set into position.

“Doctor.” Louisa spoke shakily.

The man glanced up at her from the foot of the bed, “Yes, miss?”

“If you must choose, please save my baby.”

“Louisa.” Daniel said sharply.

“It is in the hands of God, miss.” was the doctors only response.

“Louisa, look at me.” Daniel grabbed her chin and turned her head to get her to look up at him. Her green eyes were shimmering in tears. “You are not dying on me today, you understand?”

She only sobbed.

“Louisa, promise me.” Daniel ordered.

“I am so scared.” she cried.

Daniel just stared at her for a moment, her flushed cheeks and teary eyes and the fear in her face. He couldn’t argue with her…not like that…not then. He only leaned down and pressed a strong kiss to her lips.

“You must push now, miss.” the doctor instructed.

Daniel shifted beside her to tuck his hand under her knee as she bore down strongly. It was a place he had taken already five times before and the instinct seemed to only come naturally. She gripped his other hand so tightly her nails were digging into his flash but he didn’t dare complain. He watched her, his beautiful wife, for it might have been the last time.

“That’s it, miss. Keep going.” the doctor encouraged, his hands working right between her legs to help coax the baby out.

The staff around the room watched on attentively, a few of the ladies had frightened tears in their eyes as the blood soaked sheets were not a safe sight and the awfully pale Duchess had them saying silent prayers across the room. Mary, however, was right at Louisa’s other side; patting her forehead with a damp cloth perfectly silently.

“That’s the head, miss, push for me some more.” the doctor praised, one of the ladies rushing up behind him with a clean linen at the ready.

Louisa gripped Daniel’s hand until her knuckles turned pale and she gritted her teeth and pushed with whatever weak energy was left in her.

“That’s so good, darling.” Daniel whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple as she took a shaky inhale.

“Once more, miss. Big push now.” the doctor ordered.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Daniel breathed, pressing his forehead against his wife’s head in silent prayer, still holding her leg back and letting her squeeze his hand. “Almost there, darling.”

Louisa shrieked in agony, bending herself forward slightly to really put all her efforts out and to birth her sixth child into the doctor’s waiting hands. The sudden relief washed over her with a deep gasp and she fell backwards onto the soft white pillows, heaving for air. Mary fanned her face quickly as Daniel cradled the back of her head lovingly.

But from the noise of her delivery, silence fell over the room. Perfect silence.

Louisa took a moment to catch her bearings but it was only seconds later she was lifting her head up again, “Where’s my baby?”

The nurse held the small baby in the linen in her arms, the white fabric stained slightly in blood and fluid, her face as melancholy as the doctor’s.

Silence.

“I want to see my baby.” Louisa panted, holding out her trembling arms to the nurse.

“We must deliver the placenta first, miss.” the doctor spoke flatly.

Louisa didn’t take her eyes off the white bundle that had been taken from her and across her bedroom the entire time she pushed out the placenta and another nurse helped to tuck it away in one of the chamber pots. Daniel stayed where he was, the two young parents watching the doctor move across the room to the nurses and ladies in waiting to assess the child.

There was nothing but silence.

“I demand to see my baby at once!” Louisa snapped suddenly, fear apparent in her voice.

The nurse who had received the baby from the doctor’s hands walked slowly over to the bedside, the doctor right beside her. She passed over the swaddled newborn and Louisa took it carefully, easily resting her arms right around it.

“I am afraid, miss,” the doctor spoke gently, “that the baby was delivered stillborn. It was a boy.”

Louisa let out a soft whimper as she stared down at her sixth child, wrapped in white in her arms, his face a near paper white and his eyes closed gently. He looked as if he were sleeping.

“Alfie.” Louisa’s soft whisper of her fourth son’s name broke in her throat and Daniel’s heart nearly shattered at the entirety of it.

He only shuffled up closer to his wife and tucked his arms right around her and held her as she cried. Daniel hid his own tears behind her, trying to stay somewhat strong for her after a painful delivery to only be met with no expected sweet prize.

“Why is God punishing us?” Louisa sobbed, clinging onto her son that she never got to meet. “Not my baby.”

Daniel scrunched his eyes shut and hid his face behind her shoulder, choking back his own tears for the sake of the crowded room. The last time he felt heartbreak like this was when he was forced to leave Louisa behind with his brother but even that didn’t feel as sickening as this.

“We will give you a moment, your Royal Highnesses.” Mary said softly and ushered the ladies and the doctor out of the room.

With privacy, Daniel couldn’t hold back his sob, holding Louisa tightly as the two of them cried out their sudden sorrows.

“What did I do wrong?” Louisa sniffled.

Daniel shook his head as he looked up from her bare shoulder, “Nothing.”

“Merde.” Louisa cried, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks.

Daniel could only pull her face close to press a strong kiss to her cheek and nuzzled his face with hers, their tears mixing together between them as they stared down at their sleeping son. Daniel wrapped his arm around hers and brushed his hand gently over the baby’s dark hair and full cheeks. He was warm from having been just delivered but he was terribly still. It was frightening.

They sat there in their bed together, holding their stillborn child and crying together until their tears were nearly running dry.

“My heart aches.” Louisa breathed. Her voice was trembling.

“Mine as well.” Daniel whispered through a sniffle.

The doors opened again and the staff returned after giving them a moment to grieve. Louisa was redressed and wrapped up to keep warm after birth, her bleeding having stopped and her heartrate stable and physical health unwavering. Daniel held the baby while she was tended to, standing a few paces from the bedside with his focus all on who would have been his fourth son, sixth child, and seventh love of his life.

Little Alfred was buried three days later. The world rested heavily on the Seavey’s that cloudy afternoon as the smallest casket was lowered into the ground in the family plot right beside Daniel’s eldest brother. Louisa’s sobs could nearly be heard all through London.

Daniel only cried in private, hiding himself in the pantry or in one of the far stairwells and sobbed into his sleeve until his cheeks were red and his lungs were gasping for breath. There was no pain like holding your deceased child, even one who had yet to even open his eyes to the world.

Daniel and Louisa consoled each other honestly as time went by but were terrified to have any more children. They swore five to be their cut off to prevent themselves from enduring anymore heartbreak. But that wasn’t written in the stars as Louisa fell pregnant almost a year later – her longest amount of time between pregnancies – and later delivered a perfectly healthy baby girl one Spring morning and named her Victoria. Victory. Rising above the ashes of grief into the sunshine of new life.