#he's a fucking dear i love him so much and also such a potent piece of storytelling

[alarrytale]

Happy Friday Marte! To lighten your asks with F theme, I just want to write how much I love when Louis wears something else than hoodies. The latest photo with a fan in London, him wearing beige cardigan and loosen tshirt showing his chest tattoo - damn it does a lot to me haha and makes me realize how huge crush I have on him evetho I´m quite picky with his looks like he has his "good day" looks and "bad day" looks. I´m hoping he´ll embrace his style a bit since we all went mad with that mesh bomber. He definitely has a huge potentional when it comes to fashion if he´ll just wear more extraordinary pieces. And also I´ve spend last days of 2023 reading absolutely fantastic fic Just Breathe With Me and I´m still very emotional about that story like no way I haven´t expected a fan fic will does such a emotional roller coaster to me. So if you haven´t read it yet, I definitely recommend it (as I will probably read it again soon haha).

Thank you, anon and happy friday!

I so agree with you about his choice of clothes! I feel like he could improve so much in the clothes departement, because the few times he gets it right he looks fantastic! It's just few and far in between the moments. There's definitly been more "bad days" than "good days" in my opinion. The potential is there, but he's not taking advantage of it. He could be much bolder and dearing in his looks, but i love him in a cardigan and a white t-shirt. Just ditch the oversized hoodies. Try more formfitting looks.

Thank you for the fic rec! I haven't read it and just searched for it and there are two fics with that name in this fandom, but i assume it's this one. I just marked it for later. I fucking love fan fiction and we are so blessed to have so many good writers in this fandom. There is something for everyone and the fics are so well written. Fics have also ruined published books for me. They are just not as good as fics are to me.

[scrawnytreedemon]

Micolash and Arty!!

YOU KNOW ME

Micolash: THIS F UCKER HAS BEEN EATING MY BRAIN FOR THE LAST S I X MONTHS IT IS ONLY FAIR THAT I GET A BINGO ON HIM!!!

This guy. This fucking guy. This horrid, awful, howling mess of a guy with his nails-on-a-chalkboard voice and dead fucking stare.

He does well inillustrating the fucking insanity of the Church and TECHNICALLY he's fulfilled his role but I WANT M O R E !!! ALSO I AM S T I L L pissed about the Bloodborne fandom wiki having fuck all on him last I checked. Oh??? You're gonna mention his tenure at Byrgenwerth??? But not the fact he potentially FOUNDED MENSIS and almost certainly led it by time of the ritual????!?!? ARE YOU FUCKING K I D D I NG ME?!?!?

On one hand my characterisation of him meshes well with the wider interpretation but at the same time I am so picky and will throw a FIT over peope getting minor, subtle details wrong in a fic. In private, ofc~ I'm not a fucking cock, lmao.

Also??? What is UP with his fuckigngng MODEL DISCREPANCY??? LIke??? DID THEY EVEN LOOK?? We don't even have public CONCEPT ART for his face even though they MUST'VE S U R E LY drawn something up??!?!

Cutscene!Micolash? Creepy, dishevelled, if alright looking guy. Ingame!Mico? Albino frog crossed with the "WHEN WILL YOU LEARN" bread. Literally what is wrong with him. Eurgh. Makes my OCDtism face-aversion worse. -10000/10.

Gotta cut it off here before I fill a whole book's worth... But YEAH. Damn right he's a blorbo. Bingo well-earned.

Artorias: Artorias is a beautiful illustration about the simultaneous all-giving and yet hollowness of Lordran's valour. He has offered himself, blood, flesh, body and soul, for the protection of this realm, and it has consumed him. Everything about him, everything that made him who he was, gnawed off to this end.

I'm a bit iffy on the concept of, "oh, you actually saved Oolacile all along :) Lmao Artorias took credit. What a punk." I know I'm being facetious, but that's kinda what it feels like. It feels... Inserty, y'know? Our purpose, if any, is to link the Flame-- And it's not ours alone. That's what I like about Dark Souls, and Fromsoft games in general; it didn't have to be you. It was not preordained that you, O' player, would fix shit and save the day. There were others that came before you, greater in magnitude. And yet, that doesn't matter. You pick up the pieces. You sweep the ashes. You make bed for change.

Also I headcanon him as having a more North African bent to him. I think it goes well with his palette and the sun-themeing, and also I love projecting~ (mixed babes keep winning!)

---

Thank you for asking, Bug! Enjoy~

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.) 

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things. 

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave.  But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice.  If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply,  my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears,  a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.  

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful,  watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful ,  that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your  family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.”  I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”  

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out.  I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.  

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn,  the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles  but also how to wrestle with  swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you  did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa.  Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation,  Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying  and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled.  “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults,  a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich,  handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.”  Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook.  I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I  screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”  

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.  

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

“Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.”  He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before  moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets . 

[keontum]

Double stuffed.

ship: Leedo x Xion

(contains belly fetish content, smut, gas, cum inflation, vomit)

Geonhak was a big boy... Not big as in chubby, but muscular and tall... Beefy.. So he needed a lot of food to build up his energy, especially the days he planned on working out, dance practice, or doing fan meets and vlives.

A live was scheduled for Geonhak today, and dongju excitedly waited for the notification so he could hype him up in the chat, but as time passed... no Geonhak. Dongju huffed and left his room, wandering through the dorms to hear a soft groaning coming from the office where they would normally go live. With a tilt to his head, dongju made his was to the door and slowly pushed it open, seeing Geonhak curled up on the couch, groaning in pain. “H-Hyung? Are you okay?..” Dongju asked, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him. He crouched down besides the couch, placing a hand to Geonhak’s arm. “Mm.. Y-Yeah. Im fine.. Just a stomach ache..” Dongju’s face fell even more, nodding his head at the his hyungs response. “Hey.. look at me.. You feel like you’re burning up..” Geonhak groaned and turned over into his back, revealing his enlarged stomach, which sloshed and gurgled at his movements. Dongju gasped, eyeing the hill under the others shirt. “Oh, dear... Youve eaten too much again..” Geonhak nodded his head, flinching as his stomach rumbled angrily in response. “I-it’s hurts so bad..” The smaller boy pouted and sat down onto his bottom, carefully raising up the others shirt, hearing it gurgle continuously. Geonhak’s abs have faded so much under the bloat of his belly, they we’re almost invisible now. Dongju has been in this position many times before, always soothing his hyungs belly aches, so he knew exactly what to do.

With a sigh, dongju pressed a hand to the bubbling orb and began caressing it, feeling the vibrations of the rumbles, and food shifting against his hand. “Ooh.. fuck..” Geonhak sighed with relief, the rubs and massages from Dongju helping his digestion move along easier. Loud groans and gurgles emanated from the belly with each shift of food that was pushed deeper into his belly and digestive track, causing Dongju to smile softly. “Good boy.. Digesting so well..” The tummy let out a soft burble, geonhak smiling to himself as his belly thanked the other for the praise. The bloat soon pushed to geonhak’s lower belly, most of the food now digested. Dongju’s head laid rested against the swollen tummy, listening to the activity inside, all while geonhak snoozed. With a deep rumble and a forceful push outwards of his lower belly, a loud rippling gust of air pushed out from Geonhak’s ass, causing dongju to jump, and geonhak to awaken. “O-oh, shit.. i’m so sorry..” The taller said with a blush to his cheeks, watching a dongju giggled. “You’re fine, hyung~” He smiled sweetly, pressing his lips to the bloated dome, giving it a kiss. Geonhak’s stomach purred at the kiss, his hand reaching down to cup the bulge in his lower belly. “i-it looks like i’ve got a baby bump-“ Geonhak snorted, the other nodding his head in agreement. “Mmm, you’ve got another little food baby~ tsk.” Dongju’s lips pressed soft, sweet kisses over the flesh, ending at his shallow navel, listening to the belly, and geonhak’s moans. “Mmh c-come and love up on my belly more..” Geonhak whined, pulling the smaller onto his lap. Dongju only giggled and cupped the belly in his hands, giving it a squish. The belly gurgled at him, sending a belch passed geonhak’s lips. “Mmh— Excuse me..” Geonhak muttered, closing his eyes once again as dongju leaned down and began pressing more kisses to the gurgling mass in his hands. “You sing so beautiful when i’m giving you attention~ i love listening to you.” softly, geonhaks stomach rumbles, shaking his whole belly, absolutely loving the praise Dongju gave. unfortunately, the rumble also signified something else. Slowly, geonhak sat up and looked down at the bump of his lower belly, placing a hand over it and feeling it tremble with rumbles under his touch. “Ooo... fuck.. i-i think it’s time to let this food baby go..” He muttered, scooting Dongju off his lap and hopping up, just to be pulled back down next to Dongju again. “Mm, not yet. Im not done with you.”

The smaller straddled the others thighs again, cradling the belly in his hands again. Geonhak let out a soft whine, listening as his belly protested, begging for release. “D-Dongju, i-ive got to go..” His stomach churned and burbled angrily with each passing second, dongju ignoring the cries for his own guilty pleasure. “I think i deserve an award for soothing your belly ache.. dont you remember what you promised lasted time?” Dongju slipped down onto the floor, sitting himself between his hyungs legs, waisting no time as he eagerly tugged down his bottoms, being greeted by a tent in Geonhak’s boxers. “Perfect.. Already hard for me..” Geonhak’s whole face turned red, resting a hand to the side of his angry, grumbling stomach. “J-ju, i can’t.. my belly aches too much.. i really need to use th—“ He was cut off by an eager Dongju, who has already freed his cock from his boxers, and press a kiss to the leaking tip. “You’re belly is just gonna ache more and more until you’ve filled my belly with your cum..” The sound of Dongju’s belly rumbling with hunger echoed through the room, harmonizing with the other belly’s gurgles. Geonhak bit his lip and scooted to the edge of the couch, cock twitching right in front of the others face. His balls rested under him, swollen, throbbing and abused. it’s been awhile since he’s gotten off...What better place to dump his huge load than down his best friends throat. Happily, dongju took his hyungs cock into his mouth, looking up passed the bloated belly to meet the others gaze, sending shivers down Geonhak’s spine.

Soon, dongju’s throat was being pounded into, his bottoms now on the floor with his hand around his own cock, jerking himself. Deep grunts and moans rumbles through the others throat as he pushed his hips into the smallers mouth, a hand over his belly as if gurgled and sloshed with each movement. Finally, with a growl, geonhak released his built up cum deep into Dongju’s throat, filling his rumbling belly full of his seed. Dongju’s eyes widened at the sudden release, his head being forced down onto the cock, unable to pull back. Tears filled his eyes and he clutched his expanding stomach, taking in ever last drop of his cum. It wasn’t long before his lower belly began to flood with the cum his stomach was unable to hold, pushing out his stomach even more, all while crying against geonhak’s cock, begging him to stop before he burst like a balloon. Finally, after dongju’s entire midsection was full, geonhak pulled back, watching the boy vomit up a huge wave of potent seed, still leaving him with a small, taught belly, looking as if he was a few weeks into his own pregnancy. Geonhak smirked and stood himself up, leaving to finally relieve himself, poor Dongju panting and collapsing by the puddle of cum he threw up.

A few minutes passed, dongju laid on the floor, collecting himself. A soft gurgle from his stomach caught his attention, sitting up and slowly raising his shirt, gasping at the sight of his round, bloated stomach. It let out another grumble, one that sounded satisfied and full. Dongju smiled tiredly, cupping a hand to his cum filled underbelly. “you like that, huh?” The belly rumbled in response, causing his already hard cock to twitch up against his stomach. “i’ll cover you in cum too~” the smaller whispered, caressing the swollen mound, leaning back and wrapping his free hand around his length, slowly stroking himself against his belly. Soft moans filled the room, his head full of memories that happened just a moment ago. He pushed against his stomach, hearing it slosh with his hyungs cum, groaning before resting a hand over the top of his stomach. The thought of being filled full of Geonhak’s cum was enough to push him over the edge, and with a soft whine, he released his seed all over his round belly. “Well, well, well... Enjoying yourself too?” said Geonhak from the doorway, causing dongju to jump a little. He nodded his head and looked down at his belly, the mess he made and then at geonhak, a pout on his lips. Geonhak was now much less bloated, and felt much better. He was Quick to clean dongju off and place him on his lap on the couch, holding him close. Dongju got comfortable, pulling his shirt down as much as he could, the shirt riding just above his belly button from the bloat. Geonhak was just about to speak up when he was interrupted by a deep gurgle from Dongju’s stomach. Dongju let out a soft whine, looking down at his belly as he placed a hand over it, feeling his belly churn, digesting the cum that sat heavily inside. “Sounds like you’re ready to nap and digest your meal now.” Geonhak chuckled, laying back with dongju rested on top of him. The smaller boy smiled and wrapped his arms around the other, feeling his swollen belly pressing into geonhaks, fitting together like a puzzle piece. Slowly, the two drifted off to sleep, the soft rumbling and gurgling of dongju’s belly, along with the vibrations it made, soothed them both into a sweet, deep slumber.

[shiftingslightly]

tw for blood at the end, nothing major just cuts. also sorry about the abrupt fandom change

Mister Garak,” Julian Bashir slurs, leaning against said man’s couch, “has anyone ever told you how very precious you are?”

Garak tilts his head in that Cardassian way of his and gently pulls the bottle of kanar out of his drinking partner’s grip. “I do believe you’ve had enough, Doctor. You of all people should know how potent this sort of drink is in Humans.”

Julian offers him a loopy grin. “Aw, come on, Garak, it’s only two glasses, I’m fine,” he protests. His point is undermined by the fact that he keeps swaying unsteadily as he sits cross-legged on the couch cushion, not bothering to try and stabilize himself. Garak presses his lips together and tries to put on an exasperated expression. He thinks he does fairly well- in any other case it would’ve been impeccable acting, but the glass of kanar he’s already had makes the amusement he’s feeling shine through a little more than he’d like.

His friend doesn’t notice, lost in the alcohol and too busy further destabilizing himself, giggling as he tilts closer and closer to Garak next to him. “Whoa,” he mutters as he tips out of balance, twisting at the last moment and landing with his head in Garak’s lap. Garak freezes, and he has the odd urge to slowly raise his hands in a placating gesture, as if to demonstrate he doesn’t mean this beautiful creature in his lap any harm.

He doesn’t. There isn’t much reason to, anyways. They’re alone in his quarters- no one to be suspicious of him except, of course, himself- and it’s not like he’d hurt Julian anyways. Or want to. The man himself doesn’t seem very worried; in fact, there’s a fond look in his eyes, an adoring, trusting, almost-loving sort of look that he hasn’t seen directed at himself in a while. People look at him, yes, but always with fear or distrust or hatred tainting their expressions. Take your pick of reasons- Tain’s man, Obsidian agent, Cardassian, rumoured spy- but it’s always there, lurking beneath a thin veneer of politeness (or, more likely, outright glaring, veneer nonexistent).

Julian, though. Julian Bashir has always trusted him, from the moment he sat across from him in the Replimat to the time Garak raged and flipped tables at him to now, alone with him and drunk and vulnerable and feeling totally, utterly safe. It almost makes him uncomfortable, seeing the extent to which Julian trusts him. He knows he  doesn’t deserve it, knows the doctor’s illusions of his mysterious but altogether clean past would shatter upon hearing of even the most irrelevant of errands he ran for the Order. Still, even with no small amount of guilt, he savors the kind curve of Julian’s mouth when he catches sight of his Cardassian friend.

Julian, not bothering to get off Garak’s lap, giggles and reaches up. He almost flinches away instinctively, but all Julian does is tap his nose once. “Boop,” he says with yet another giggle. Garak raises an eyeridge.

“Nothing.”

“I see,” Garak says, leaning back against the couch and looking around the rest of the room, content to sit in silence for a while.

“No- wait, it’s an Earth thing,” Julian says hurriedly, as if Garak had threatened him.

“Ah, I believe I’ve heard of it,” he responds absentmindedly, reaching down to thread his fingers through Julian’s hair.

“You’re lying,” Julian pouts. His mood suddenly turns serious, and he peers intently at him. “Why do you always lie to me, Garak?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t take it personally, my dear,” he says. He’s vaguely aware that he keeps forgetting to add “Doctor”, but at the moment Julian is warm in his lap and his mind is foggy and he can’t bring himself to deny this simple affection. “It’s simply a habit of mine.”

Julian hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that. He makes a grab for the kanar bottle, still in Garak’s other hand, and sits up, taking another drink before the bottle’s taken away again.

Garak, kanar in hand again, chides, “ Julian. You really should stop,” but for once he feels relatively safe and isn’t cycling through all the reasons he should stay far, far away from the Doctor and the tangled mess of feelings that come with him and so he tips the bottle up.

He sighs afterward, setting the bottle on the coffee table in front of him with a satisfying clunk , other hand still in Julian’s hair. Julian’s got a face full of anguish when he looks down at him, and Garak tilts his head, inviting him to explain. He shakes his head, but a moment later he lets out a long breath and says, “He annoys me so much.”

Garak laughs. “There’s a lot of men who annoy you, Doctor. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Julian goes on as if he never heard him. “Really, though, I wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s splendid, you know?” He gestures wildly on splendid, somehow managing to smack Garak in the face and nearly overturn the kanar bottle sitting on his coffee table. “So mysterious.”

Garak, clenching his jaw against the bitter taste of jealousy, manages to get out an “I see”, but it doesn’t really matter; Julian’s far gone at this point and continues to ignore him, lost in thoughts of this mystery man.

“He doesn’t love me,” he says, giving Garak heartbroken puppy eyes. “He doesn’t love me… he said he hated me, once. He was lying. I think. He always lies but he doesn’t lie sometimes and it’s so confusing- Garak, it’s so confusing. ”

“He doesn’t sound all that nice.”

“He isn’t, really- he’s nice to me, though. Makes me feel nice.”

“That’s nice, then.” Even with years of Obsidian training, it’s still a concerted effort to keep his voice steady. Damn Federaji , damn Humans, damn this particular Federaji Human with his honeyed smile and his charming naivete and his slender body and his brilliant fucking arguments and-

“He’s brilliant, did you know?”

“You seem to have forgotten you still haven’t told me who he is, dear,” Garak says. It’s an indulgement he can’t help but allow himself. He’s lost his Doctor; what’s one little word?

“I don’t know who he is, either.” Garak makes a questioning face. “I don’t know if he knows who he is either. He’s kind of lost. Stuck.”

“Ah.”

“It’s a sad thought.”

“That your-” he pauses for a second- “that he’s stuck?” He feels silly, trying to talk to an obviously drunk, in-his-head Julian who keeps ignoring him. He might as well have put on a movie and tried to talk to the characters.

“Most people have never heard their friends’ actual voice,” Julian says. Garak pauses, considering. It’s an interesting sort of thing to think about, if (as Julian said) a bit sad.

“I learned Kardasi for him,” he continues. And that’s even more interesting- this man speaks Kardasi? He dismisses a thought before it can form. Some aren’t worth entertaining, even for a moment; hope is a dangerous thing, flighty and tempting and ultimately disappointing, and he isn’t such a fool as to invite that sort of creature into his head.

“I learned it for him,” Julian repeats. “It’s a very nice language, you know. Very interesting. I speak it to my friends and no one notices. He didn’t notice either.” So he talks to the mystery man. Hm. He starts to analyse the information, mind almost subconsciously going through the steps and piecing together what he knows. So far, very little.

“Tell me about this man,” he says.

Julian gives him a little head-tilt. “Whatever do you mean? I’ve been telling you about him,” he says. Garak can’t tell if he’s genuinely confused or if alcohol makes him more of a little shit than usual. It’s certainly making himself more impatient.

“I mean that I don’t know who this man is, and if you’ll excuse my bluntness, I would like to know,” he says shortly.

Understanding seems to dawn in Julian’s eyes. “Oops.” Scale-less arms wrap around his neck and he pulls himself up and before he’s got a chance to think bad idea bad idea bad idea soft lips are on his and suddenly all he can think is OH! and Julian’s kissing him harder and maybe the Humans were on to something with their kissing because dear god it’s so good and he leans closer and Julian hums against him and

crash

He’s on the floor, rubbing at his shoulder, at the place where Garak shoved him away. “Garak-”

“ Out .”

His eyes widen. “Garak, I’m so sorry,” he says, but his words are slurred and bad idea bad idea bad idea is rushing through and he gets up off the couch ( my dear Cardassia what have I done ) and picks Julian up and goes for the door ( damage control damage control ).

“No- Garak- wait- no don’t leave me I’m sorry we can talk about it-” the door slides open with that same mechanical beep-whoosh as he approaches- “Garak, please- you can’t just leave me out here-”

“I can and I will, Doctor,” he grits out. “You’re drunk. Go home.” Bashir is set down just outside his door.

“Garak- Garak wait- no-” the door starts to slide shut again- “Elim!”

whoosh-click.

He sighs heavily, leaning against it, head in his hands.

bad idea bad idea bad idea bad idea

~~

The pieces of the kanar bottle are sharp as he picks them up off the floor. Julian’s momentum had knocked it against the opposite wall, shattering it, breaking it beyond repair just as surely as he’d broken any semblance of camaraderie between them, and now they lie glimmering in the window's meagre light. He can’t simply leave the pieces on the floor, jagged and dangerous- can’t keep seeing Bashir, all of our usual engagements will have to go, and then some- and so he picks them up, slowly, even though they slide against his palm when he closes it around them, edges breaking skin when he shifts the wrong way ( it’ll hurt, yes, but I can deal with it, I can deal with it, I’ll have to deal with it ).  He can’t feel it, can’t feel much over the roaring in his head- Tain’s voice, of course it’s Tain’s voice, it’s always Tain’s voice- you knew this would happen, it’s your fault, you knew you shouldn’t have gotten closer to him don’t be so selfish now look what you’ve done. He’s gone and deluded himself into wanting someone like you and he’ll never have happiness and it’s your fault your fault your

There’s a sharp pain and the feeling of cold blood trickling down his hand. The glass piece slides out of his grip and lands on the carpet, dripping in the stuff and staining the carpet.

He huffs. Control, Elim. Control is the key. The memories seem to dissipate as he shakes his head, along with Tain’s admonishments.

There’s a knock at his door. Doctor Bashir. He’s the only person who actually knocks, like the Humans used to in the old days before automated doors. He’s also the only person who’d want to come see him in his quarters. “I’m not here!” Garak calls.

There’s a thump that sounds suspiciously like a human fist hitting the door in frustration, a groan, and then Bashir calls, “Let me in, Garak! I just want to talk!”

Unfortunately for the doctor, talking is the last thing he wants to do. Bashir keeps yelling, desperation seeping into his voice, but he simply turns and continues picking up more pieces of the glass bottle. There’s a flash of pain and then cold blood dripping from a fresh cut ( go talk to him, what the fuck are you doing, he wants you, go out there and just take him ) and he shakes his head, sighing, but he tips the piece into the bag he’s using to hold them all because he can’t just leave them on the floor ( the fuck do you mean just go out there and take him you can’t do that you’d destroy him, you know it, you and all your secrets and your cruelty would crush his bright-eyed smile ) and it’s always the harsher voices that are loudest but this one’s right. He can’t give in to the man outside his door, has to not be selfish for once in his entire bloodstained life and so he just keeps going, collecting cuts as he handles the edges of what used to be a beautiful, whole bottle and grits his teeth against the sting.

Eventually, footsteps sound, padding away from his door, and he sighs and slumps against the edge of the coffee table. It digs into his back scales uncomfortably, but he can't bring himself to move.

subscribe to the fic here to be emailed when it updates! part two is coming soon, projections indicate about three days

[catchlalune]

When We Collide

authors note: YEs hello!!1 I’m back at it again with the angst because I really don’t know no better. Super special thanks to Mama Bel aka @skzctnightnight​ for being a super awesome beta reader and giving me some awesome feedback (and otherwise encouraging me to finish this lol) also this is a request for my love Clem aka @pockpop​ (who also came up with the title) 

Pairing: Female! Reader x Joshua Hong

CEO! Au, Enemies to lovers, mentions of college

Word Count: 3.9k (literally two words away from being 4k)

Warnings: this deals with unhealthy forms of expression, and a bit of an unhealthy relationship, if this is something that triggers you please for the love of bob DO NOT READ. I am not responsible if you ignore this warning.

You liked listening to Joshua Hong begging for you, more specifically for your assistance. The desperation in his velvety voice, the pout of his pretty pink lips, the wetness of those catlike eyes. Absolutely delicious. Any more desperate and he would be writhing under your cute black kitten heels. 

"And just why should I help you?" 

"Oh come the fuck on, you know why." It's half of a whine and half of a growl and it almost makes you shiver.

"Okay, maybe I'm crazy but did I just hear you say that aloud?" You narrow your eyes at him. 

Joshua is on the very precipice of losing his shit, falling over the edge into anger. And Joshua Hong is a very patient man; it seemed you were the only one who could ever get him like this. You reveled in the idea that on your word and your word alone his very sanity hung in the balance. Good, he sure as hell deserved it. 

You hated Joshua Hong with a stern bitterness that left a nasty taste in your mouth whenever you looked at him. It hadn’t even always been like this, but when he started to change so did your feelings for him. 

In college you two were close, albeit not nearly as close as he and Jeonghan but close enough in your own right. You two were proverbially glued to the hip until he switched into his business major, but he hadn’t started to change until senior year. He’d been working dutifully on his startup project and the many hours you used to spend together would dwindle to minutes, then seconds, and finally only passing glances of tired smiles in between lectures or study groups. Joshua didn’t even show up to group outings with the rest of you anymore. Jeonghan and Vernon had tried to make excuses every time but even they stopped trying to justify his absences and eventually Joshua was nothing more than a small blip on everyone's radar. This was the first time the image of him turned rancid in your mind. 

You had witnessed Joshua’s character development in his college years along with the rest of them, the shy freshman who came straight from Church choir practices into a much more outgoing sophomore, then a funny charismatic leader and finally into someone who flaked on his friends. Did he ever even consider you all friends? You knew switching majors would be hard for him especially in his third year, he had so much to make up but if you knew Joshua Hong you knew that his intelligence and patience would make up for any momentum that he lacked. Maybe it was your fault, you had encouraged him to go for it and in doing so encouraged the downfall of your relationship. 

After everyone graduated and Joshua really got his startup up off the ground he had tried to weasel himself back into your lives, and everyone welcomed him with open arms. Well, everyone save for you. It seemed you were the only one that remembered his betrayal, the only one that felt your blood boil every time he talked about his business ventures and traveling around the world. He had tried so desperately to talk to you one on one but you had successfully thwarted off his advances at catching up time and time again. You, the person he has always held so dear, you, who he felt knew him the most intimately. You who he wanted by his side the most, who he tried to be the best he could be for. He had thought there had always been an unspoken attraction and tenderness between the two of you, but maybe he was wrong, maybe it was just him. Joshua wasn’t sure why there was deep set contempt in the depths of your eyes when you looked at him. Especially not when he had loved you so dutifully, so gently.

There is something distinctly venomous about someone who is generally in a caring and kind disposition being cold to you that makes it feel all the more malicious and cruel. Even more painful is it when it is the person you would lay your life down for. Words that were normally displeasing became heated bullets firing one after the other: scorching, heavy, and stone solid in their weight. Every single time you spoke to Joshua your words were laden with a potent distaste he had no idea you even had in you, you had always been so soft and warm with him. He now knew what it meant to scorn someone who was kind, if only he knew what he had done. 

This continued on for years until the present, the iciness of winter melting into the rebirth of spring to the solid wall of heat that was summer into the cool refuge of autumn four times over. The relationship between the two of you only became worse with the passage of time, the minimal group outings you all had with him always ended with a scathing remark from you towards him. He grew to expect the animosity, and deemed that maybe you hating him was ultimately better than not speaking to him at all. He had put up with it for so so long, trying to get back in your good graces in the best ways he knew how but all his plans backfired. Joshua was floundering in his relationship with you and subsequently all of his friends. He felt it, every time he saw one of you he felt it. 

The tension was always bubbling in the air, so frustratingly out of reach but so real and tangible he could taste it like arsenic in his mouth. In this moment, Joshua sits across from you as you glare at him without any regard to his feelings. He thinks he can finally reach up and grab it. If atmospheres could be seen this one would be as thick and as black as any bottomless abyss. The wait of words not said heavy and suffocating. Hearts beating slow, breath easing in and out in silent whistles of timidness and the reluctance can be the vile taste on their tongues. No one ever wants to speak of how heavy bad things are, because if it is spoken it is real. No one ever wants to be seen as a villain and so they do not speak in this instance, because if they speak it they are real. But you have to say it because this is not a movie, it is not a book and you and Joshua are oh, so real. 

“You’re one of them.” 

There's a pain in both of your chests, hearts writhing in agony at the words you spit out in your frustration. You didn’t like sitting here in this stupid big office in this stupid comfy chair with his stupid presence. 

“You take that back right now (Y/N).” 

His eyes are hard and set and finally you see a semblance of the man you used to know, used to love. 

“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do, I am not one of your lackies. You’re an absolute greedy piece of shit.” You stand from your comfortable perch right after you say it but he stands with you, eyes just as defiant. 

“I said, Take. It. Back.” He reiterates, spite leaking into every punctuated syllable. 

“You asked me for my honesty Mr. Hong, so I gave it to you. Now if you’ll excus-”

“Explain it to me then.” 

“What?” You’re sure you give him a dumb look but he just swallows, you can tell by the way his adams apple bobs and he fixes you with another glare. 

“I said explain.” 

You have to laugh at that. What was there for you to even explain? If he hadn’t gotten it by now he never would. But, you indulge him anyway. 

“You think your cute little attempts at flaunting your wealth over us is welcomed? Do you think your never changing ‘gentlemanly’ act is wanted? We know you so much better than that.” Your words cut at him like razor blades, sharp and serrated and leaving trails of stinging hatred in their wake. 

“What? All I’ve ever done was-”

“Was constantly paid for everything? You never show interest in our group activities and when you do come you treat us like children. ‘Oh you don’t have enough money for this? Let me help you.’ ‘This bill is way too high! Let me pay it.’ ‘I saw you looking at this but it’s so expensive! Let me get it for you!’ Do you know how tiring it is to constantly be coddled? To constantly be reminded that no matter what we do we most likely will never have a sliver of the wealth you do? You’re rich, that’s good for you but some of us like to work hard and save up for the things we want! Some of us like pooling our money together and paying for an extravagant meal! It makes us feel good to know we can have some luxuries, it reminds us of just how hard we’ve worked!”

Your voice was loud now, biting and steadily shoving into his chest pushing him back down to his seat. 

“But I-”

“And the way you act towards us all? We’re supposed to be your friends but you don’t come to us with anything! You don’t tell us when you’re tired, you don’t tell us when you’re hungry, you don’t tell us when you’re hurting! You haven’t for six whole years! You faded out of our lives then thought you could waltz back in like nothing happened! Like you hadn’t discarded us for your fame and success. You think you’re lonely Joshua? You think you’ve been ostracized by us? Have you ever stopped to think for a single second that you did it to yourself? That in your clamoring for acceptance you pushed away the only people who accepted you before you had money?” Your chest heaves, face hot with the admission of your feelings. 

Finally it dawns on Joshua that the emotions he had mistaken for hatred in your eyes for all these years hadn’t been hatred at all, but pain. An unmistakable hurt that could only be left by someone you thought the world of. You had thought the world of Joshua Hong and he had let it slip between his palms to land directly on your chest. 

His mind is too clouded to notice the way you spit out fuck you into the clean air of his office and turn on your heels. It was hours before he looked up, the sun was starting to set, making the sky a pretty palette of pinks, oranges, and purples. The echo of your footfalls that had long since gone in the recesses of his mind, the air still smelled faintly of your scent and it drove him right back to the brink of insanity.

Joshua Hong was very tired, and very very lonely. The only words of comfort to him were the ones you left swirling in the air before you left him to sit there in a worn out slump. 

☆☆☆☆

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you to talk to her.” Jeonghan speaks to Joshua over the edge of his crystal shot glass, eyes burning into him like the taste of soju burned down their throats. Joshua was another bottle away from being absolutely shit faced. The ambience of the bar leads them into a false sense of comfort, the billowing streams of smoke from ashtrays and smells of cheap booze lingering in the air as they relaxed into the uncomfortable steele of the bar stools. The Tipsy Fox wasn’t the most savory of establishments, the lights were always so dim you could barely make out your own hands if they weren’t five inches away from your face, though the bathrooms were always modestly clean they wouldn’t be that way for very long, it didn’t have a no smoking policy so the air was always thick with the smell of tobacco amongst other things-never mind the fact it was always humid. 

In plain words: not fit for a billionaire. Not that Joshua had really cared about his image much after the conversation the two of you had. It had been nearly a month by now and though Vernon and Jeonghan had offered solace in their company they had definitely relayed that they most definitely had the same ill feelings though not quite as intense as you. He confronted (or more like cried to) everyone else later that night after your conversation and it left his soul feeling weary. Woozi and Minghao had chided him and when they listened to his reasoning they had asked if he had even listened to your words. They were not as forgiving as Jeonghan and Vernon (especially Minghao, who was what seemed to be your new best friend? When had that even happened?) but not nearly as stingy as you had been.

Over the course of the month there were some hard feelings and some disagreements but nothing that wasn’t able to be ironed out with long open-minded conversations. Finally everyone had come to the agreement that if he worked harder at just being present in general then it might restore the friendships much faster. They were so patient and so willing to speak with him he felt like you had completely blind sided him. He flip flopped between understanding the logic behind your ill feelings towards him and not getting how you could be so uncompromising when everyone else was. The latter was what he was feeling at the moment confiding in Jeonghan. 

“I just don’t understand Han, how do I fix it if (Y/N) won’t let me?” 

There’s a few beats of silence before Jeonghan sighs and pours each of them another shot. Joshua downs it as soon as it’s filled and Jeonghan sucks his teeth. He made a mental note to not pour anymore drinks for him. 

“Shua, you’re both going to drive me insane. Why can’t you two just talk to each other like adults instead of putting me in the middle of it?” The question is more rhetorical than anything else as he mutters it to himself but Joshua still hears him, a faint sparkle lights up his brown eyes. 

“She talked to you about me?” 

Jeonghan shifts back in his seat and gives his friend a long hard look. The dim lighting only made the bags under his eyes appear darker but he still looked good, Joshua always looked nice. His eyes shift past Joshua to your visage which draws more than just his glance as you walk into the dingy bar. 

Even for a normal person you'd look like a mirage, silky green dress hugging your frame like a dream and face made up in a natural look. You carry yourself with an air of confidence that you've hardly ever done. Jeonghan could tell you were more than feeling yourself tonight. 

It doesn't take Joshua long to catch the way Jeonghan was no longer paying attention to him so he turns to the direction his friend is looking and he swears his heart almost falls out his ass. You have finally crossed the bar to them and for a second Josh forgets all the years and pain and thinks you'll be settling in next to him for a long conversation about whatever for however long. Even with you wearing the color he most despised you look simply ravishing. His face heats up, feeling absolutely touch starved as he takes in the way your hand curls around your glass after getting your drink. How long has he been staring that you've had enough time to order and receive it?

“You know, it’s impolite to stare.” You don’t spare him a glance, instead sipping the cool drink from the glass in your hand. 

“How can I not when you’re so pretty?” You stop, glass half way raised to your lips with the feeling of fire etched beneath your skin. 

“I am so sorry, he’s really drunk right n-”

“I’m not drunk, I just thought she should know.” 

Jeonghan was trying to fix it, and had Joshua just let him there wouldn’t be this weird tension hanging in the air. They watch as you finish bringing your drink to your lips and take a large gulp before placing it on the polished wood to look at Joshua. 

Again, you don’t exchange words but you do take him in wholly. From the disheveled look of his silky cream colored button down (that had three buttons undone), to the messiness of his blue hair he was currently carding his hand through, to the faint flush on his cheeks, the way his black slacks fit his thighs, all the way to his eyes- brown and full of so much unspoken you had a feeling if you let the words fall out of his lips they would tumble around for hours. Yes, Joshua Hong was a sight. Ethereal sitting in an old bar while lighting the place up, you wondered if he felt the hungry stares from everyone else. For a moment you forgot all the ill feelings, feeling just as hungry as they looked. 

You finish your drink before standing with a sigh. 

“Come on, you need to sober up...before you do something stupid.” 

Jeonghan and Joshua blink at you before the former tries to suppress a smile, he fails miserably. 

The Tipsy Fox isn’t the most savory of establishments but it leads to a long night of you three eating hangover soup together as Jeonghan tells really bad jokes to get everyone to laugh. And when it is finally over after the sun begins to peek its head over the top of the horizon and you are alone in your bed with a full tummy you think about how it reminds you of the past. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but it feels so good your heart melts and feels a lot less frozen. You really wish you could hate Joshua Hong. 

☆☆☆☆

The next time you two meet it’s been a week since your heart has begun to thaw and you weren’t expecting to see him here at all, had you been you definitely would be wearing something much more flattering. But the more important thing was, how had he even remembered this old place? An old run of the mill rinky dink bookstore surely could’ve been easily forgotten by someone who probably didn’t even have time to read books anymore. Did he have time to read books anymore? Is that why he never had time to speak to any of you? 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Josh flashes you a warm smile that makes that fire ignite under your skin again.

 He couldn’t have come at a worst time, here you are sat on a stool (courtesy of the store owner) in leggings and an oversized sweater with a copy of Song of Solomon perched between your fingers. In an effort to look uninterested in his presence you languidly run your gaze up and down his body before looking back at the pages. Hopefully the sweat on your palms wouldn’t make the hardcover slip right from between them. Was this always the effect he had on you or had it just been because of that spark you felt a week ago?

“That makes two of us.”

“Toni Morrison is a good author.” 

You have to pick your head up to look at him not expecting the two of you to talk over each other, a wave of confusion crossing over your features. Joshua on the other hand just laughs, he wears that particular shade of mirth well. It makes your stomach churn. 

“You weren’t expecting me to be here either?”

“She is a good author.” 

 You crinkle your nose and Joshua laughs even harder. His laughter warms up the quiet store in a way that has the owner popping her head in the aisle with a small smile of her own. An old woman much older looking now than she was when the two of you were still in college. Back then things had been much easier, and the hole in the wall bookstore was a safe haven even when you didn’t need to study and the library was packed. The two of you had just happened upon it on a random late afternoon walk and it had quickly become your place. A little pocket of normalcy in the chaos of campus life, a place that when you stepped in felt as though space and time was at a stand still. 

Now, Joshua sits across from you at the small table the two of you used to use to study waiting for your tea to cool as the old woman talks your ear off about how Joshua had been a faithful regular and even bought the property when she had been in danger of losing it all. She doesn’t leave until your cup is finished and Joshua has nearly melted into the cushy chair beneath him. You stare at him for a while before you say anything again. 

“You remembered?” 

You remember telling Joshua once that you would love it if the two of you could buy it from the old woman one day so you could run it in your old age. He had agreed heartily but you were sure it was just from the mixture of exhaustion and alcohol the two of you consumed. It was only a passing comment though you had definitely meant every word of it. 

“I remember everything about you.” 

You bristle at the comment, how could he say something like that so nonchalant and act as if he hadn’t? 

“You don’t mean that.” 

He takes a long sip of his tea and takes his time setting down the porcelain. The look he gives you is a mixture of sad and weary and you almost wish you hadn’t said it. Normal people would have sighed or shown any form of displeasure, but not Joshua Hong. He sits with you and stares with a level amount of patience that makes you itch. 

“How could I ever forget something important to someone I love?” 

“You don’t-”

“Please, I’ve always loved you. Do you think I’d be sitting here if I didn’t? You may not believe me but I’ve always told you in my own way, though I’m not very good with those words.” 

You swallow thickly feeling like a piece of cotton is lodged in your throat and won’t move. This was not something you were prepared to do today. 

“The way you expressed your pain wasn’t very healthy but the way I dealt with my career wasn’t very healthy either. Shutting each other out and not talking hasn’t been working for the last six years, so can we try something different?” 

His voice is pleading, forcing you to look into his eyes. Had you made him look like that? Did you look the same? You could feel the wet stinging at the corners of your eyes now, threatening to spill over and splatter against the table top like silent gun shots full of repressed emotions. 

“Something different?”

His lips tilt upwards at your question, finally feeling like he was making some progress. 

“Why don’t we start by meeting here every Wednesday to read together and talk about our feelings and then once we’ve both gotten better coping mechanisms we try something more?” 

It doesn’t even take you half a minute to answer him. 

[typinggently]

I suppose the most important question is how feral, on a scale of one to buckwild feral, would Bruce go if Clark DID have a tentacle dick or some other. Alien anatomy. Because I feel like the range would be incredibly high and extremely filthy.

Anon I’m so glad you asked because I’ve been thinking about this for weeks now

I even had a post in my drafts that your post reminded me of it even though it’s super tame in comparison to what this answer here is going to be.

-

Firstly, to answer your question: He’d lose it.

Now, for a more in-depth approach:

Feral Bruce and his Alien Boyfriend

-

Warning, and I cannot stress this enough: Alien cocks to be discussed below. Also just. Nastiness.

-

I have to start by once again saying that Bruce is a freak. He already owns Alien Dildos before he even meets Clark. So when sweet sunshine Clark shyly hints that he has some anatomical differences to humans, Bruce, who fucked himself with the ribbed Purple Star Destroyer XXL glow in the dark limited edition just this morning, gives him a blank stare, mentally hyperventilating.

Now, the thing is: Imo, Clark fucks. Blame it on the bathtub scene in BvS (shameful confession: I…actually didn’t see BvS bc I am really bad at remembering to watch films but I know it happens and I’m thankful), but I think “regular” Clark gets a fair share. He’s no Brucie, but he enjoys human interaction, i.e. cute little dates where he shows them the farm and then playfully fucks them in the barn. It’s been mentioned, we know what’s up. But I do think alien anatomy!Clark would be a tad shy about the “issue”. We can either go with the narrative that he’s never trusted anyone enough to reveal that part of himself (cute, romantic) and instead just really likes to give head, all “No, no, it’s fine, I just want to make you feel good”, wet chin, glassy-eyed and flushed, turned on to the point of shaking but holding back (hot).

Or maybe he had penetrative sex with one (1) other person, which was also very sweet and fumbling and cutesy-romantic.

-

Either way. Either way, none of that compares to the way Bruce just silently vibrates with his “wow ok finally that’s great news I can’t wait to get railed hard by your alien cock(s)” energy. Like. That’s  e n t h u s i a s m.

But! BUT! Clark doesn’t really know that yet. Because Bruce, A Bat of Science, goes “Interesting, fascinating, I would very much like a sample of your reproductive fluids to run some tests if that’s alright.”

So Clark, who respects science, goes “oh yes sure of course I can do that”

(Intermezzo: Does he take the little cup and goes to jerk off somewhere in private or does Bruce help?? The self-control it would take to come face-to-face with the object of desire (alien cock) and not take action would be immense. But also if he doesn’t, Clark might think Bruce is purely scientific in his interest so what is to follow will be extra nice and surprising)

(To be extra nasty: Bruce has SUCH a hard time with that sample because !! oh wow!! Clark’s come in a fancy little cup! The urge to guzzle it down…very prominent.)

A few days later, Clark gets a call from Bruce all “Test are done and you need to come over right now”. Worrying. So he drops whatever he’s doing and comes over. And oh boy. Clark has never, never seen Bruce in such a state of ferity. Wild eyes, flushed cheeks, practically vibrating. So he’s all “Oh boy oh golly am I poisonous what’s going on” but Bruce is in his space before he can even properly finish that. Between the tongue in his mouth and the hand in his hair and the other hand under his shirt, Clark manages to ask what the heck’s going on, and Bruce is all “Your sperm is perfectly safe for consumption. Come on, I need it.” Tearing at Clark’s shirt, one hand already between Clark’s thighs, greedily feeling him up through the thick material of his jeans. That’s  e n t h u s i a s m.

-

NOW!!! What does Clark’s alien cock look like???

Tentacles are like. Classy. I wish I could name my favoruite but..I FORGOT the TITLE and it’s super frustrating and I’m super sorry. Still. Tentacles can be very nice.

What I came up with at some point was this: forked. That is to say. Two cocks. Ribbed, with the ribs (..?) pulsing when Clark is in a state of great arousal. Slightly warmer to the touch than one would anticipate.

Also: “Showers of Blessing” by FabulaRasa tackles the idea of like. Massive amounts of come. It’s super nsfw and it’s really nice. Maybe we’re not thinking quite THIS much. But. A lot of come.(I can’t link it without risking that the entire post gets swallowed up, even though I’m not sure I would want anyone to find this tbh tbh tbh)

-

So if we go with the “I had sex with someone very dear to me once” thing, they 100% only “used” one of the available options for penetration. If it’s tentacles, I doubt penetration actually happened. (Flushed, touch-starved Clark overwhelmed that someone is touching him at all, helplessly bucking into the hand of his puppy love with his love-drunk tentacles all wiggly and thrilled to be touched… nice.)

What I’m getting at is that Clark is just not prepared for someone to go “Ok I’m going to take all of this in one go actually”

Bruce is an all-or-nothing, straight into the deep end type of guy to begin with. But lust-drunk Bruce? He’s a mess. He’s got the determination to stroke and suck on whatever he can get his mouth and hands on. Clark is a little worried that he’ll unhinge his jaw in his enthusiasm. Not that Clark has much capacity for worry left when he has the visuals of Bruce between his legs, flushed and messy, drooling all over himself as he attempts to shove two cocks down his throat.

As established, alien anatomy!Clark hasn’t had that many sexual encounters and certainly never one that actually fulfilled all of his needs. But Clark still has a very potent sex drive. And he’s just now experiencing how good sex actually feels. So -Bruce is not the only one going a little mad.

So when Bruce’s completely blissed out, stuffed to the brim with alien cock, Clark loses it a little, too, and fucks him to pieces. He still has some grasp on his strength, of course, but it’s slipping ever so slightly. Overwhelmed as he is, he jackhammers Bruce into the bed, possibly breaking it in the process. Absolutely overwhelmed with the soft heat of Bruce, with his hitched little moans and his flushed-dripping cock.

The orgasms are intense. Petit Mort is the right word. Clark’s panting. He’s sweating. Bruce, meanwhile, is a complete, blissed out mess, overstimulated and boneless, sucking bruises into Clark’s neck lazily while he waits for the high to pass. Truly sated.

-

Very compatible. Absolute messes.

-

End notes: Uh? I hope this somewhat answers your question. I feel like I escalated a little. Thank you so much for joining me on that trip to filth town ;^; (I wrote this in 1.5 hours instead of doing uni work…)

[tweetyshit]

Kinda wanna turn this into a series (5)

Technically this isn't a new part because I haven't had any clear dreams since I was snatched up by the giant. But in my writing class we were given a prompt about dreams and obviously I had to use the iconic Fred and George dreams. Its more of a story opposed to my usual messy narration and gifs but it also gives a background on how these dreams started. Did I cry while writing this? Yes. Did I use a different name to save my dignity from my teacher? Yes. Will you like it? Well I sure fucking hope so.

___

   For as long as violet could remember, dreaming had been her escape. At first - during her younger years of adolescence  - it took form as a simple active imagination. But as she grew older, her dreaming swiftly became a coping mechanism for when reality was just too much to bear. Whenever the stress came along, so did violets dream world, and she wouldn't have had it any other way. There was just something so freeing about knowing that at any time she wanted, the escape would always be there to comfort her. She spent years using this technique, but eventually forgot it as she entered her teen years. Then on a peaceful night in december, everything changed. Something that would send her back in time in the most bone - chilling yet comforting way possible.

   You see, just a year before that riveting December night, Violet had lost someone very dear to her. As the Christmas aura became more potent and her peers became more excited, our Violet was pooling around in her own form of escapism in an attempt to ignore all the death surrounding her. Imagining scenario after scenario was the only way that she could feel light during those days. For when she felt lonely or uncertain about what was to come she would always have the security and comfort of her mind, and the people within those chosen realities.

   As the lonely flower fell asleep on that night, she didn't expect much. But as she closed one set of eyes and opened up another, she was in a familiar place. A christmas party in a small, squat house that held so many people beyond its capacity it seemed to be bursting at the seams. She quickly noticed that she was in the reality she had chosen for those solemn December nights. When she just couldn't handle her family sitting around the living room in silence, suddenly not knowing how to communicate with one less person physically present among them . This bustling house seemed to be the best alternative, with its consistent chatter and many lively people. It almost seemed impossible not to engage in the Christmas cheer. Almost not knowing what to do with herself actually being in the room, she decided to place herself on the stairs and just observe. As she was making her observations, she felt a presence beside her. Turning - or rather looking up - she was met with a set of kind brown eyes looking upon her.

 “Oh hi George.” she said without thinking and turning back to look at the scene. That's when it struck her, he probably had no idea who she was. Cringing, she turns back to look at George, who had a bewildered look among his sharp features. Rather than looking confused, he looks shocked, then excuses himself. A few moments later, he returns with what looks to be a clone of himself, but Violet was smart enough to know the difference. She had spent countless times in this house, the least she could have done was learn to tell the twins apart. As they watched in bewilderment, the twins mixed themselves up, switching places until it was impossible to tell the difference.

“Who's who?” they said in unison and Violet let out a chuckle. Shaking her head, she told them. Then together they returned to the party, where they began to open Christmas crackers and exchange gifts.

  Night after night Violet returned to this house, and no time was ever lost. Spending all her time with the twins or simply reading on a windowsill as rain pattered on the thin rooftop was considered the best use of her time there. It was nice to have the comfort feel real for once, and as Violet was a common lucid dreamer, it almost felt genuine. She could control her words and actions, but the environment and other people always remained unpredictable. One day as she sat on the floor with the twins, Fred decided to ask a peculiar question.

 “Where did you even come from? It seems like you just appeared out of nowhere during the Christmas party.” As Violet heard these words, it felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs. How would she explain her situation to them? After much pondering, she decided that honesty was the best policy.

 “Do you want the truth?” as the twins nodded Violet let out a sigh.

 “I'm not real. Or you're not real, I haven't really decided which is which. You Are real in your reality, but I belong to a separate one. Make any sense?” The twins stared at her and Violet felt her heart clench. She didn't want to damage her relationship with them, but if one day she wasn't able to come back she at least would want them to know where she went. So she continued, “I'm dreaming right now, or somewhat i guess. I love sleeping, my life has the tendency to fall apart when i'm awake, you know?”  She looked back up at them, expecting to see disgust or even fear on their faces. But the only emotion present among them was amusement.

  “You're in a dream?” George asked, looking at his brother then back at Violet who nodded and popped another piece of popcorn in her mouth. No longer caring about the situation as she didnt know what time would be their last together and not knowing if they would even remember her if she did eventually come back.

 “Wicked.” the twins chimed in unison, confusing Violet. “So you don't think i'm crazy?” she interrogates them further.

 “Well yes, but we're all a little mad aren't we?”  George smirks causing her to let out a scoff. That's when Violet began feeling a familiar sensation, the tingling indication that she was waking up. Entering a sudden state of panic she stands up in the small room, startling the twins.

“What's wrong?” George asked with a concerned expression.

“Listen, i'm waking up and I don't know if i'm ever going to make it back. I'm honestly surprised that I've been able to come here this many times in a week. But if I can't come back just know that i love both of you dearly and i'm thankful for the experience” tears began streaming down her cheeks, a certain feeling of warmth leaving her chest and being replaced with the cool one that's held her insides in a permafrost since last December.

 “It's ok darling, “ Fred urges her to sit down next to him, “i'm sure you're clever enough to come back again.” As Violet shakes her head, he continues, “Who knows, maybe one day we’ll even come and visit you in your reality.”

 “You wouldn't like it.” she says with certainty. “I think we’ll have to be the judges of that.” George sends her off with a wink.

And then she woke up.

[spacemilkies]

Could you do a Ben Hargreeves request where the reader and Ben dated and were in love before he died and the readers always been there for Klaus so they're like best friends but the reader doesn't know that Ben is with Klaus after he dies since he wants her to be able to move on even though he's always gonna love her but obviously it comes out? Like fluff flashbacks to them being happy and in love. I love your writing btw!

title: the wheels go round and round

pairing: ben hargreeves x reader; platonic!klaus hargreeves x reader

summary: 

the three of you were like a three-wheeled bike

but then you lost a wheel

its a good thing most bicyles can run on two wheels …

right?

a/n: bless the day to umbrella academy. after months of drought, it rained down 5k+ words on my soul

hope you like!

It was more than just an itch.

When describing the sensation of feeling the departed, Klaus had always summarized the connection to an itch.

But it was more than that.

It was a whisper at times and a shout at its worst.

It was both the burn of a cigarette and the sharp punch of frost.

Klaus no longer just enjoyed life because since the day he was born, he’d been destined to share it. Whether it be someone’s brother, mother or aunt.

He couldn’t simply exist without the obligation of presenting himself as a window to those who have departed. They were tethered to him, mere specters unable to indulge in their own whims.

But more often than not, Klaus felt like the collar was around his own neck. The hallucinations tightening around his throat like a noose.

It was suffocating.

Until the few times it wasn’t.

The moments where Ben was on one side,

and you were on the other.

“Please … Klaus. Not tonight.”

Had he had the energy, Klaus would have rejoiced. In the sea of hell, submerged in a pool of souls, hearing his dear brother’s voice was like breaking the surface.

Regrettably, at times he’d been too deep to begin with. The rapid ascend cracking his chest with aches and muddling the shores of his mind.

Or perhaps it was just the cocaine.

‘Twas all a blur at this age.

Except for his brother.

Klaus had been convinced that his brother’s multiple appendages had followed him into the next life, where they finally joined into one.

One string enough to define the parameters of life and death.

One potent enough where Klaus could almost feel the warmth of his finger tips.

No, this was definitely the cocaine speaking.

Shuddering past the residue, eyes fixated forward despite the obvious request for his attention. He learned long ago that it was much easier to escape the allure of desires that were not his own this way.

Of course, the notion worked better with strangers.

“And what exactly did I promise, dear brother?”

He knew.

Ben only sought him out for two things: loneliness and you.

And the two were often more intertwined than independent.

The phantom steps weren’t quite as soundless when the familiar gait in his memory coupled with reality. With his head bowed, Klaus only allowed himself the view of the restless sneakers planted in front of him.

He would account for deniability for just a little longer. Just until the fog lifted.

Yes, there was one plus to his powers.

No matter how much his brother wanted to launch him into kingdom come with the flick of his very murderous friends, there was just no true density to his physical wants.

“Klaus were going to be late. The recital starts in less twenty minutes. “

And in the other side of town, Klaus recalled groggily of the event he wasn’t suppose to remember. Not only would he be pushing the limits of his rather shallow physicality, but he would also suffer to the sharp keys struck in cohesion to whatever dated classical piece chosen for the night.

He could still hear the thundering notes of the last one echoing off the sides of his skull.

The agony of the preservation of music.

“Klaus!”

“Fuck!” Scrambling to his feet, the disheveled man shakily reached for the wall for balance. A few of his trivial belongings clattered to the street below. At least they were disposable now, there was no way he’d be able to make the trip back down again.

Beyond the determination, there was a hint of sympathy in Ben’s gaze. Despite being forever frozen in time by passing, Klaus felt like he was still growing despite the absence of aging. That and Klaus always had a soft spot for his sixth placed sibling.

Well, shit, there went his small window of deniability.

Smoothing his hands down the tattered and grimy black of his clothing, Klaus snuffed audibly as he looked down the alleyway.

“Well let’s get going then.”

____

“Fucking cmon, man.”

Klaus let out a quiet groan of disgruntlement when he peered around the corner once more. Much like like last three times, funding his brother just as ensnared with his significant other.

Despite his warnings, neither of the couple had kept things chaste. He’s managed to get more than an eyeful of Ben’s wandering hands and exposed skin.

Keeping a timer was a futile attempt.

They were too young to die.

Practically skinned alive by their father for sneaking out again.

Getting caught for it again.

All for love.

Teenage reckless love.

Counting upward, skipping a few useless numbers along the way, Klaus finally decided on a limit and turned back to the pair with a stronger resolve.

“As distastefully envious I am of your abrupt jump from bases so quickly, I’m afraid you’ll deny me the opportunity to try the same in the future if we don’t get going,” he emphasized with a pointed look at anything but the two flushed individuals.

Ben let out an equality frustrated huff and you laughed in turn.

And Klaus…,

Poor Klaus was just ready to end it all.

Ben drew you in close once more for a quick snog, one teetering close to another endless makeout fest without his brother’s grunt.

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, after your classes?”

Your face scrunched in thought, before clearing with recollection and you shook your head,” I have practice tomorrow evening.”

Ben’s bottom lip pulled downward at the thought, but you quickly remedied it with a peck on the cheek and a suggestion.

“But maybe, we can meet at night? At the cafe?”

The question was directed more towards the lingering Klaus, who rolled his eyes.

The gesture met by silence.

Seconds ticking into minutes, until he couldn’t take it any longer.

He threw up his arms in exasperation.

“Fine, you little miscreants. I swear if you two drag me through a teenage pregnancy. I will kill you both and drag your souls into my bedroom to view a true the horrors of entangled lovers.”

_

“Ugh, I don’t know.”

Rubbing sleepily under the droop of his eyes, Klaus was willing to bet anything as long as it got him back in bed before noon. If someone told him something like friendship was such a binding contract, he would have gladly done without it.

The remaining option of pure solicitude and his family be damned.

Anything less would have had him in bed still.

“Look, Ben will love anything you get him. He’s easy like that,” he quipped around a yawn.

What he didn’t mention was how frankly any of them would take a grain of salt if it came as a gift on their names-day.

Who knew being born without an identity would come without the rest of the joys in the world. But with everything else denied, what was one more traumatized shard of a misplaced childhood.

When he finally returned to reality, he found you standing just under him, your nose barely bringing the line of his shoulder. You were watching intently, in a way that could only be described as expectation.

Ah, you’d said something else hadn’t you?

God, he was just making this much longer for himself.

What did Ben even like?

Surely under all the endless screaming and turmoil Klaus had been present enough to at least learn something impertinent about his brother.

All of his siblings mumble of wants.

A proper life.

A real family.

Friends.

Bringing together all two of his lingering brain cells, he squared his shoulders with a posture of authority. “A music book.”

To his suggestion, your nose twisted into a look of pure disbelief.

Oh, you unfortunate clueless little doll. If only he had the time to introduce you to the chaotic world his brother had created to express his undying love for you.

“A music book, because he likes to understand you. You and that complicated, beautifully musically-inclined brain that he’s so obsessed with. Poor boy is tone deaf, but if he can keep up with you literately, then he’s a happy monkey.”

His lips pulled at the joke that went over your head with no reminiscence.

All that mattered was that his brother would be happy.

You would be sated.

And he could get his ass back to sleep.

Klaus felt like something worse than a train had plowed into him. Which was ironic, because he couldn’t think of much else that would leave his body wriggling in agony.

Just the effort needed to part his eyelids felt like shouldering the weight of cinderblocks. The trials of it all would have been much more terrifying had it only been the first occurrence.

Fortunately, or supposedly unfortunately given his state of health, this was far from the first time that he’d found himself plastered to his brother’s couch. His impromptu visits were really beginning to affect the integrity of the upholstery, he mused as he picked lethargically at the dried flakes of his own spittle.

Not even on his best day could Klaus recall exactly where they’d drug him from this time. He tended to only bare the scorches of hell not the memories of it.

A low rumble of thunder tickled at his consciousness, and his body managed to comprehend the action to find the available window perched just east of his grungy nest.

To find only instant regret as the bright rays began the thrall if his punishment.

No storm then.

Then what was- oh.

“The parents are arguing,” He sang alone and off tune to the accompaniment of two voices just beyond his reach. Despite its size, their cute little kitchen managed manifest acoustics only found in the hazy mists if his shower.

“He needs to go to rehab, Ben! This is getting ridiculous.”

“Rehab isn’t going to cure the voices. “

Understanding the horrors behind why Klaus was such a dysfunctional mess had done nothing to deter your efforts to provide him with solace.

More often than not he found himself drug to recitals and practice performances where you felt the noise would help to overcome the screams.

It may have been a nicer sentiment should he have control of the playlist if songs. He was more likely to fall asleep and face his maker than find peace.

Indirectly he found himself observing Vanya on more than one occasion, however, a Samaritan token that he hoped he could cash in at some point in the future

“So were suppose to just let him keep doing this to him self. “

Oh bless your soul.

Klaus shoulders rolled in a crooked dance as his hand touched the three places out of order to a religion he had no experience dabbling in.

May the big guy or women upstairs truly gift you for your heart.

“Baby, it’s not that easy…”

Well, gift you more than they had when they wrapped Ben up and presented him to you.

Klaus wondered if you recognized the veteran you were when it came to keeping the real monsters at bay.

“You think when this is all over … think I could marry her?”

The question was asked so causally that Klaus nearly inhaled the paper roll balanced between his lips. Ben, this little rascal, hardly missed a second as he reached over to take a puff for himself.

A slow dazed smile curled at his lips, his mind floating up and away in chase of the cloud.

All the while, Klaus nearly died from an abrupt pneumonectomy.

“Sorry, I’d like to dissect this first. When what’s over? Sorry to break it to you, but those powers aren’t going anywhere.”

That was a long dead dream amongst all the siblings. This was their life and they just had to adapt to make the best of it.

Funny, he couldn’t remember if he’d heard that from mom or dad.

Frankly, their mother was an autonomous robot programmed by their father, so he supposed they were one in the same.

He shudders at the visage.

Ben took another long drag before handing the joint back, letting the smoke settle in him before releasing it out into the world. He was becoming such a professional, Klaus almost wanted to cry.

Rolling his head back, Ben caught his brother’s gaze, the same languid grin still plastered on his lips,” I mean the old man has got to die at some point right? Then we’d be free.”

Except the old geezer just couldn’t seem to find the bucket to kick. Klaus had to wonder if he was even born with one.

Maybe that’s why he took everything from them, because he lost his bucket. Since he had to suffered it was only right that he did.

Scoffing, Klaus fell back into the cushions of the couch. Their father dying would just be one nightmare for another to him. While his other siblings lived their life, he’d be the unlikely bastard still hearing dead old dad.

He waved his brother to continue,” So dad dies. He has no more control. Enter your bride to be. What could go wrong ?”

“They could say no.”

The taste of rejection was familiar and thick, a viscous emotion that was contagious in all the worst ways. It was an airborne virus, a bacterial infection- a stigma embedded into the very walls they grew up in.

They’d spent their whole lives being discarded from the inside. How would they handle the same on the outside?

Well Klaus certainly didn’t think that Ben deserved that.

“You’re an idiot. Of course they would say yes.”

And when that lazy smile brightening with the energy of the sun, Klaus thinks, yeah it’ll be alright.

___

Except it’s not.

It’s the opposite of okay.

___

“Did you know he wanted to marry me?”

Klaus looks up in surprise, though somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t. You were equally as expressive as you were aware. To be honest, you had to be to keep up with them.

Just because they were a danger, didn’t mean they weren’t inherently surrounded by it as well.

As fate brought about.

Ben always made sure to keep you on your toes. Scolding you when your back was turned to the happenings of the world. It was done out of love, to protect you from what you couldn’t see.

Your defense when he wasn’t there.

So of course you’d been primed to pick up on little mannerisms and peculiarities. Lately, when the two of you were alone, wrapped up in your lovers nest, Ben often lost himself to his own thoughts.

But naturally that wasn’t enough to support the little investigation.

No, you needed evidence.

The little box hidden behind the bookshelf was more than enough to close the case.

You still had it.

Unsure of what to do with it now. It didn’t seem like a family heirloom, but what did you know ?

The touch of your own hand stroked fondly over the fingers of your left, a quirk of a sullen smile twitching halfheartedly.

“Yeah, I knew. It was so easy to tell with him.”

Ben’s manifestation came as easy as a whisper yet felt like the heavy side of an iron hammer. He hovered between the two of them, uncertainty rooting his presence just short of reaching you.

His face twisted at the sight of your solemn agony as you picked apart the memories of your life together.

“Every recital I kept wonder if that was going to be the day. “

Klaus could only watch it play out, no plausible intervention available in his capacity to offer comfort. The wound was still so fresh and deep with all of them. The two of you together were just barely managing to keep the gape from tearing wider.

“Then I realized, that wouldn’t be his style. He’d probably try to stick it in a milkshake then freak out when I went for a spoon.”

Ben’s broken laugh cracks his chest, rattling like a case of skeletons. Klaus is glad you can’t hear it, the torment of its sound would only plague his nightmares.

“I would have said yes without a ring.”

When Ben reaches for her, Klaus can’t help but do the same. The urge feels like his own, physically, but when his brother lays his hand atop the pile the warmth doesn’t feel like it’s coming from his own body. At the touch, it sparks an array of emotions he’d only once viewed through a one way mirror.

Now he was the window.

Too bad it was already broken.

“I would have said yes to anything.”

____

“Every time. I know you say you’ll see me again, but damn, you really surprise me, Klaus.”

When Klaus draws you in for a hug, its more than instinctual. Its not an ambient desire.

Its a whim of his own, something that he takes his own personal comfort in.

His.

So maybe he’s a little disgruntled, when a third pair of arms joins the embrace.

And maybe, he’s a little smug when you only respond to his warmth, and his alone.

Call it his own payment.

Grinning, you brush away the damp fringe from your flushed cheek. You always called performing a rush. He thought living with Vanya would help him understand that, but it seemed that music lover’s were truly just one of a kind.

“Tell her how amazing she sounded.”

Ben encroaches on the moment again, and Klaus grits his teeth to bare the grin as he recites the words. Sometimes he wonders if he you can hear his voice as well as he can. The two of you always had such a special connection.

It was a shame that death had to be the one thing that built a wall between you.

With a sigh that could double as exhaustion, you leaned back on your heels. The adrenaline of the recital was finally wearing off. All the long nights and endless dance of fingers across the keys had waned down to this moment, and now it was over.

For now at least.

Give or take a few weeks, just short of a month or two and you would be back at it again.

“So … you look … good?” You winced at the delivery but prided yourself on how it didn’t come out sounding like an interrogation. It was so difficult to properly voice your worries when it came to Klaus.

So much had changed over the years.

You thought you would be able to function without the third wheel.

Most bikes ran on just two after all.

But Klaus seemed to need that third wheel in a capacity that you just couldn’t understand. Frankly, there were a lot of things you didn’t quite comprehend and you had practically dated a superhero.

But with Ben it had been not easy but simpler in all the ways that came natural as being together.

Klaus was the opposite in more ways the one.

Yet so explicitly streamlined down the single reason that he wasn’t alone.

He was never really alone.

No matter how often you tried to fill the space with your presence, some skeleton from the past managed to draw him away.

You think thats the one thing you hated most about the house he grew up in. Despite all those people, it had been voided from so much love that it got to the point that he’d let anything in.

And now he didn’t know how to close the door.

He was getting so weathered just standing at the entrance, taking whatever was thrown at him.

Klaus managed his usual exaggerated grin, and you made no comment of how it drooped a the side. “Oh, but thank you my dear. Truly, here I thought no one would noticed how I walked straight off the runway to make it here on time.”

Laughing came easy, even when it was forced.

“Well, I appreciate it. I really do, Klaus. Everytime.”

Klaus lifts his shoulders and let him fall in his own quirky way,“It’s what he would have wanted.”

“Still wants.” Ben’s words drift like a breeze.

You reach for his hand, meaning every word as they cross your lips,“Yeah, well, he had a great brother.”

There was no denying that your friendship had fractured from being on the receiving end of the blow that was Ben’s death. Things weren’t quite as they were, lacking the instrumental piece that his ghost couldn’t be to bridge your worlds.

But it wasn’t broken.

Ben wouldn’t allow it. He kept Klaus alive, pushing him to remain conscious and aware of the world. Even if his brother’s motivations were selfish demonstrations of his own agendas.

At the end of the day, Klaus retained your friendship.

And in a world of apparitions, it was nice to reach for something and have it met half way.

“Yes, thank you. I’m glad he can hear that and my efforts are for naught.”

Ben flittered between the two of you, instinctively drawn into your orbit. Klaus tried not encroach, but unable to not watch as Ben tried in vain to grasp the wisps of your hair. The intentions phased through you without your notice yet Ben’s look of complacence didn’t falter in the slightest.

It’s what he wanted for you after all.

Your blissful unawareness would be necessary for you to properly prefers in a world without him.

Even when he was still there to watch your steps forward.

“We should treat her to her favorite cafe.”

Ben was back at his side, flickering in and out of space with ease. The question snapped Klaus out of his revere and he found himself answering audibly in reflex,“Oh yes, with my limited funds.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion,

“Sorry?”

Klaus waved you off, not having to explain in detail for once or come up with an exuberant tale to mask his insanity. “Oh, not you.”

Your eyes flashed with recognition. Apart as you were, you weren’t as accustomed to Klaus day to day demons. The man who was once a constant in your life managed to fade to the background without your say so. You knew he was doing it out of his own attempts to shield you. 

With Ben, you were a proper team, one that could at least attempt to maintain the forlorn sibling. But alone, it felt like you were a mere spectator.

“Is it getting worse? I mean its, always worse right?”

“Not… always,” he trailed off.

“Klaus you cant keep drowning them away the way you are. Its not healthy.”

This really wasn’t how he planned for this evening to go. But you were a lecturer at heart and consequently he was your favorite subject. He had resist the urge to make a face when Ben hummed in agreement. “I know that.”

He looked up at the touch of your hand, trying hard not get to far swept into your altruistic stigma. Without Ben around, he’d managed to do a better job of dragging you into his mess rather than allow you to pull him out.

You were just too helpful.

Always loaning money or your couch to rest on.

Just attending your performances hardly felt like a redemption to all your kindness. Ben certainly felt that way. In Klaus defense, he never lead a very virtuous life to begin with. Besides, wasn’t the point of all this for you to live your own life?

Ben had died, leaving you two to reform a friendship in his absence. Sure, it was the squeakiest wheel but it turned.

You had just as strong of a hand in keeping him afloat.

“Then act like you mean it. I know its not fair for me to simplify something so difficult, but you just have to cut them out.”

Klaus wondered if he’d imagined the hitch in your voice or if Ben had noticed it as well. Your gaze had lowered as you delivered into your speech, hiding away the true emotions festering beneath. Klaus didn’t know what he would do if the sniffling began. He was oh so terrible when it came to managing emotions that were not his own.

Who was he kidding, he hardly had a reign on those.

But you continued on. Your stance growing sterner with every word.

“Let the past go.”

“Forget about them.”

“Move on.”

They were the same words regurgitated from Ben’s own request to see that you moved on properly after his death. He hadn’t wanted you to remain stuck on his ghost, remembering what had been and constantly reimagining what could be.

More importantly, he wanted you to let go of him completely, so that you wouldn’t seek him out in Klaus.

Klaus always found it odd how you never showed any addition resistance to Ben’s ‘dying’ request. Not that he expected you to declare vengeance. But you knew, he was a walking window to the world of the dead. Knew that if he tried enough, he could manifest Ben back to you. But you never asked.

You just smiled and nodded.

Ben pretended to be unaffected, tried to convince himself that it was what he wanted. But Klaus knew he was hurting from the lack of contact. Yearning to use the advantage only his brother could provide.

Wanting.

Needing.

It just wasn’t fair.

“Even Ben?”

Ben was in front of him immediately, his face hardened in the event of Klaus breaching their deal. But Klaus was done with the suffering, tired of making everyone around him feel it too.

At one point in their lives, they were all happy.

And it was time to stop acting like Ben’s absence was the end of it all.

“Ben…”

Klaus expected more tears. Something of a sort of production of dramatics that would call attention to your private moment. He certainly had the theatrics in him to do so. But you were just … quiet. As if hearing Ben’s name aloud had stripped the sound from your voice.

Ben looked at him with chagrin, mouth already moving to berate Klaus’ impulsive decision,” Look what you did- all our progress.”

“I didn’t want to! I just-”

“Ben, its fine.”

The silence that followed was deafening. It took them both a moment more to realize which of the pair you’d called out to. And with such confidence. You’d just included yourself in the conversation as if you’d been there from the start.

As if you’d-

“You knew…”

Klaus somehow managed to add more foundation to Ben’s fractured words. The weight of the realization suddenly splintering the mirage you’d all built together to keep the world spinning. You’d all contributed to the great tragedy in which no one was truly happy.

“That you could see him?” Your shrug was lopsided. The weight uneven as you offloaded your own demons. “Klaus, you can see everyone. Of course, I figured you would seek out your own brother.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Like there were idiots for thinking otherwise.

In a way they were.

“But you never-”

” -said anything?” You interrupted with another sluggish shrug,” Ben made it pretty clear that he didn’t want me to know. The least i could do was respect those wishes.”

You’d do anything for Ben.

Even forget.

Or pretend to, at least.

What would you be, if you couldn’t meet his last request.

Frankly, it was all too much for Klaus, his body shaking with misplaced laughter as the situation settled within him. You truly knew them- knew them both better than they knew themselves. They’d presented a game and got played by it.

Ben was fairing slightly better, daring to even smile a little in muted pride. Klaus finds himself thrown back in time, the same feeling of trespassing establishing within him when Ben reaches out with a phantom hand to stroke your cheek.

Swallowing around the barrier, Klaus narrates helpfully,” He’s uh- stroking your cheek. Or trying to at least.”

For some reason you all laugh, your accompanied by bringing your own hand up to touch the side of your face. You’d managed to find the right cheek without either of their guidance. Not that anyone was surprised anymore.

“I’ve missed you.”

Oh how Klaus wished you could hear Ben. Something you could all agree on. But he played his part, being the voice needed to maintain the connection,” “He misses you.”

When you open your eyes, your gaze is more watery than it had been before,” Yeah, I’ve missed you too.” 

Klaus is caught off guard when your hand extends out, fingers flexing. At first he thinks you’d dared to try to reach for Ben, hopeful for a missing touch. But instead he finds your gaze trained on him, your touch as warm as he remembers.

“I knew I could rely on him to keep you alive. “

Ben chuckles fondly,” Damn right.”

You sigh audibly through your nose, giving Klaus one last squeeze before letting go. “Honestly, this is great. I felt so weird trying to pretend like he wasn’t there. Seriously, you two share one brain cell. As long as you’re functioning, it was safe to assume Ben wasn’t far.”

The jib was popular joke of yours when Ben was still alive. The two brothers were a mix of mischief that you rarely managed to keep up with. Together they were a duo, but the three of you were more than a trio.

A unit that sheltered each other from the harshness of reality.

“I’ll take you up on those parfaits now. Maybe a hot chocolate with a shot. I know you’ve got something on you.“

Klaus was going to end up with whiplash by the end of the night with the way this conversation was going. You departed from them with a promise to return as quickly as you could change, leaving the two siblings floundering in place.

“I know I said this before, but your fiancé is strange.”

The way Ben smiles reminds Klaus of the day he decided that he was in love with you.

Ben didn’t even try to correct him.

“Yeah, but we like them that way.”

[olboypacman]

A Celebration

Garfield and Starfire take part in the Tamaranean celebration of fertility, by well, um… In Starfire’s words, “How does one expect to celebrate fertility than by a demonstration” Lemons ahead. A request by brave kid.

****

A/N: I’m taking a page out of LamontCranston1066’s Love in Shades of Green and Gray and using Klingon as a stand-in language for Tamaranean, as there’s no comprehensive dictionary or translator for Tamaranean. Maybe I should take that on as a personal project.

****

Garfield and his companion are sitting in a café in downtown Jump.

He dusts crumbs from his freshly finished muffin off his green Mega Monkeys t-shirt and jeans, cursing himself for running his big fat mouth.

“Bumgorfs?”

Garfield sighs at the black-haired Tamaranean sitting across from him. “I don’t even know why I told you this. This meet isn’t about me anyway.” He complains.

“Well, luckily my P.O. is a chatter-box, who can’t resist small talk.” Said Blackfire, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

The Tamaranean woman is dressed in a tight black long sleeved scoopneck shirt, the hem of which is shortened, revealing the young woman’s toned stomach. Her look is completed with skinny blue jeans and designer black shoes.

Blackfire had come to the Titans not too long ago, swearing to X’Hal she had turned over a new leaf.

Naturally, the California based team of young heroes had been leery.

Garfield had persuaded his friends to give her a chance, well, a second chance.

Third chance?

Anyway, it was on the condition that she wears a power inhibitor and regularly report to the Titans, that she was given yet another chance.

And there was another condition.

Garfield was to act as something of a parole officer to the supposed reformed villain.

So far, so good.

6 months onward, Blackfire managed to keep true to her commitment to reform and at Gar’s behest, become friends with the Nightwing, Cyborg and Raven.

He who even encouraged Komi reconcile with her sister, and his girlfriend, Starfire.

He’d never thought he’d see Blackfire shed tears of happiness, let alone shed tears at all.

“So, explain this one more time.” She said.

“What’s to explain, we’ve been together for a while and this is just the natural progression, starting a family.” Responded Changeling.

Starfire and Garfield had recently started to discuss having children.

“You two are so young to be thinking about this, but I’m happy for you. Just don’t expect me to babysit. It can’t be coincidence that this has come up around the Yin Lopno’.”* Finished quietly

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Blackfire sipping her coffee. “Has Kori been acting weird lately?”

“What do you mean?”

“Has she been abstaining from intimacy? Preparing strange foods? Decorating incessantly?”

“How did you- Get out of my head, Komi!” Said Changeling, jokingly.

****

Weeks later, Kori calls Garfield to Raven’s safe room in the basement.

Approaching the door’s keypad, he punches in the code and is greeted by an interesting sight.

There’s a giant circular mattress in the center of the room. The tile floor mostly covered by a red shag rug. The room itself is dimly lit with the light of candles.

There must be hundreds of them. Some are held in candelabrums, prickets, but most are held in run-of-the-mill candleholders placed a decent distance away from the bed.

Starfire herself is situated on the bed. She’s mixing something in a bowl.

Above the scent of his girlfriend and the candles is whatever’s in that bowl. It has a bitter, yet vaguely sweet sent and something about it is setting his senses on edge.

She meets his eyes, ceasing whatever she’s mixing in that bowl.

“Bangwi**” She utters, removing herself from the bed. She’s dressed in a red silk robe, seemingly nothing else.

She approaches him, pulling him into an embrace. This is the first time the two have been alone like this in a few weeks’ time. True her sister’s questioning, Kori had in fact been behaving strangely this month.

Instead eating whatever he or Cyborg prepared and slathering it with mustard, she’s taken to preparing her own meals. She alternated between turkey, beef, chicken, brown grain rice, salmon, various berries, and oysters.

He can also recall Star asking Raven for use of the safe room some time ago. Afterwards, Raven had jokingly suggested Gar would be a very happy man come month’s end. She’d been carrying various items (Gar suspects boxes of the candles now displayed, the rug and bed) into the tower’s basement.

Chef among Star’s peculiar behaviors this month was her being completely cold to him this month. He’s not received a hug, a handshake, or any kind of physical contact from his girlfriend in weeks. She’s even gone as far to avoid sleeping in the same bed and refraining sex of any kind during that time. When confronted, she simply apologized, saying it was part of the Yin Lopno’.

Which the young hero still didn’t know what that is.

“Are you not going to hug me back, Garfield?” She asks, pulling away from him, putting her hands on his shoulders. A hesitant smile on her face.

“Star, this entire month you’ve eating weird foods, well weird for you, running back and forth to the safe room and have been completely cold to me. Not mention whenever I tried to talk to you, you brushed me off. Can you tell me what’s going on?” Garfield practically screamed at her.

“You’re not wrong to be upset Gar. And I do apologize for actions recently, but please understand this is something that’s very important to me. I guess I’ll start with an explanation. I’m sure during your meeting my sister earlier this month, she let slip my behavior is due to the Yin Lopno’. This is the Tamaranean holiday for the Celebration of Fertility. It is customary for Tamaranean women of age to prepare themselves for the conceiving during this time. The holiday usually culminates in, well you know, Gar. How else would one expect to celebrate fertility any other way than by demonstrating it? And we’ve been doing the discussions of having the bumgorfs. This celebration just managed to come at the right time.”

He laughs, putting his hands the waist of Starfire. “So, the food?”

“All staples thought to increase fertility.”

“This room, the way its decorated?”

“A place to consummate the celebration.”

“And your, uh, frostiness?”

“The lack of intimacy is to best prepare our bodies for the consumation!” She declared loudly.

“But we could’ve accomplished that by just being celibate for the month.” He shrugs his shoulders and continues, “Why didn’t you tell me about the celebration?”

“Bangwi', you and the rest of the other Titans are very dear to me, but in the past you’ve all been leery of Tamaranean holidays and traditions. I know you’ve been more open minded in recent years in support of our relationship, but I guess I feared that the old habits die with much difficulty.” She said, leaning onto his shoulder and pulling him closer.

He smiles at her and returns the embrace, “Next time just tell me, ok? And what do you say we get down to the meat of this celebration, huh?”

“Yes, I’m quite the antsy. You weren’t the only affected by the lack of intimacy lately. But there’s one more piece of business before we get down to it.”

She removes herself from him and retrieves the bowl from the circular bed.

“Star, what exactly is that mixture? It’s kinda strong.”

“Oh, it a very important part of the celebration. This,” she says, holding up the bowl, “is a very powerful aphrodisiac. It’s mostly zorkaberries, scotch and an herb native to Tamaranean. It’s called the parmaq*** herb.”

“Aphrodisiac? Are you sure, babe? You know most of those are just myths, right?”

“Oh no, Gar. The herb is the real deal. My K'Norfka has lived through several Yin Lopno’ and said just one whole leaf was enough to keep him going for serval days. Usually, it’s just mixed with water, but I fear it maybe too potent. I only used a tablespoon of it. The zorkaberries and scotch is meant to dilute the herb.”

“I, uh, guess I’ll try it.”

“Excellent,” exclaimed Starfire. She took a spoonful, offering it to Changeling.

He takes it into his mouth. “Chunky,” he responds, as Kori takes a spoonful for herself.

His senses seem to intensify as a surprising, yet pleasurable heat begins to work his way through his body. His manhood comes to attention, the heated sensations almost bringing him to his knees. A sweat’s covering his body as he tries to get his bearings.

Starfire takes his chin in her hand.

Her touch sends a jolt of electricity, his nerves feeling overstimulated at the simple contact. “Call upon the strength and resiliency of your beast, Bangwi’. You’ll need this night, for it will not be easy.”

She removes her hand from his chin, he almost whines at the loss of contact.

“Lose the clothes,” she says, removing the robe, revealing her toned back and shapely derriere.

He complies, throwing his red and white uniform to the wayside.

He then makes his way to the bed, to Starfire, calling upon the attributes of his inner beast, per Kori’s instruction.

Before he can even get on the bed, Kori pulls him on to the bed back first. She’s on top him before he realizes it, her skin as heated as his.

He almost moans at the contact.

“No foreplay, babe?” He asked through shaky breaths.

“Not necessary,” she said, her breathing just as shaky.

She grabs his hardened member, positioning it at her entrance, rubbing the head along her lips. Her ministrations sending pleasurable shudders through his body.

“Fuck, you weren’t lying.” He said.

She lowers herself on to him and without warning begins to ride him, wildly.

The sensations of her bucking are so intense he can barley string together a coherent thought.

“Ah, ah, are going to make do all the work Gar? Not that I mind,” she said as she starts bucking him harder, the sounds of the contact of their lower halves intensifying with her action.

He grabs her hips, trying to control her hips.

She takes him by the wrists, pinning them above his head. She continues to rigorously ride him, the thudding impact of their pelvises causing loud and hard slapping noises to bounce of walls of the room.

He manages to start thrusting up into Kori, “Uh, Garfield!” She screams, “So I’m not in this by myself after all,” she said in between groans of pleasure.

The pleasurable burning caused by the aphrodisiac had become less intense for Garfield. He managed to gain back some coherent thought because it.

He wrestled his hand loose from Kori’s hold, grabs her hips and flips her on to her back.

She closes her legs around his hips and back and pulls him close to her, “Fuck me, bangwi’.” She said through lust filled, hooded eyes.

He kisses her, the feeling more satisfying than usual. He introduces his tongue and begins to pound into her relentlessly. Thumping sounds bouncing off the wall once more, in time with the couple’s moans.

“Garfield, ah, X’hal!” Screams Starfire.

“Uh, uh, you’re so tight, Star.”

As he finds his rhythm, Kori starts to dig her nails into his back leaving red trails of red in their wake.

Eventually, having had their fill of missionary, Garfield flips Kori on to all-fours. Her quaking, glistening womanhood waiting to be pounded once more.

She spreads her cheeks with for him, giving him a better view of her slit, “Rut with me, Gar.”

Needing no further provocation, he plunges into her as deep as he can.

“Uhhh!”

Still riding the wave of the effects of the aphrodisiac, he wastes no time ruthlessly pounding her.

She’s throwing herself back into him just as hard, his grip on her hips so strong his claws are biting into her, marking her similarly how she marked him.

The sensations and ferocity of his voracious thrusts are overwhelming, but for the Tamaranean it isn’t enough. She takes a finger to her engorged nub, circling it persistently.

Her walls start to clench around him, “Fuck, I’m cumming, Gar!”

He pushes her head down and gets up on his feet, getting better angle for hammering her from behind. “I’m so close, Kori!” He exclaims, his pounding becoming more intense as if such a thing were possible.

“Gar!” She yells as she gushes around his shaft.

“Uh, Star!” He screams, as he spills his essence deep inside her.

She sits up, pulling Changeling into a kiss while he still inside and behind her. He responds by holding her close and returning the kiss.

“I think I may have one more round in me, Star.” He said, breaking the kiss.

A mischievous look enters her eyes. She removes herself from him, going to amorous mixture. “I would hope so, Gar. Multiples of the rounds are part of the celebration.”

“Multiples?” Yelps Garfield.

****

* Yin Lopno’ =Translates directly to ‘celebration of life’, but for the sake of this story it is to mean ‘celebration of fertility. There was no translation for the word ‘fertility.’

** Bangwi’ =My love

*** Parmaq =Love

****

Read this and more @https://www.fanfiction.net/~olboypacman

[broccolianddandelion]

13 Todobaku Fic Recs

I’ve been following the BNHA fandom for approximately two seconds, but within this time Todobaku has become my indisputable OTP. (The evil soul who introduced me to the fandom via her divine artwork (@anatchie) favors Bakudeku, and I feel a little disloyal now, but what can you do?) Over the past months I’ve read a lot of Todobaku. My gift to you is a baker’s dozen of my (admittedly idiosyncratic) favorites, the ones I return to time and again. As always, check out the author’s tags before reading. They’re there for a reason.

The indelicacies of nitroglycerin (T, 50.2K) by yeetin. - “Don’t you think Bakugou is pretty?”

Todoroki looked up, after having apparently caused the untimely deaths of his three friends. Uraraka was doubled over, clutching her throat as bits of food sprayed from her wheezing mouth, Iida had somehow mini-Recipro Bursted his way through the floorboards and was struggling to get back out of the crater, and Midoriya… Midoriya looked like he needed an ambulance. Or an immediate blood transfusion at least, his face was so white.

This fic has one of the most indelible scenes of drunk Todoroki I’ve ever read. A little angsty, a lot funny.

I want to reconcile the violence in my heart (T, 28.1K) by @callalilalma - You had one job, you piece of shit! his brain yells at it. Just pump fucking blood in my veins, don’t fucking give yourself to half and half!

This fic got me fascinated with the idea of Bakugou as an unreliable narrator. I may be halfway done with a remix from Todoroki’s point of view. I’ve probably listened to the Muse song thousands of time by now. (I’m a slow writer.)

i want you (to want me) (T, 18.5K) by shaekspeares - “You know what,” Bakugou exhales angrily, more to himself, and then suddenly is leaning over Todoroki where he sits, arms by his sides and face close to his. “It doesn’t fucking matter. I can think whatever the fuck I want of you. I’m gonna beat you no matter how much better than me you think you are.”

“When you’re not having a tantrum, I actually respect you a lot,” Todoroki corrects. Mainly because he means it, but also because he’s starting to know how to get Bakugou to pull the face he’s pulling now. “You’re an admirable person in some ways.”

“Fucking hell,” Bakugou says, his shoulders sagging and his expression comically disheartened. “I- what’s next? You gonna declare your love for me mid-battle?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Todoroki replies, instinctively, then freezes, thinking about it.

“I’m fucking- going,” Bakugou continues, undeterred and jittery. “Fucking weirdo.”

He hastily grabs his bag and stomps off, and Todoroki sits very still.

Oh, dear.

He thinks he may have missed a few things while redefining his feelings.

One of my favorite characterizations of Todoroki. Hilarious and sweet getting together fic.

Lock and Key (E, WIP) by @autochorystalize - Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot. - - - A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity. It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega. - - - - - - - - - Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

The fic that changed my mind about abo. The world building is mind blowing. Delves deep into social issues that are all too real. This can be a hard read at times (check the tags) but is absolutely worth it. Also I’m dying for Bakugou and Todoroki to get together.

nothing lingers passively. (E, WIP) by @ii-mo - A faint tickling sensation under the bridge of his nose was all the warning he received before Bakugou gripped the lapels of his uniform and hauled him in. The scent of the Alpha's peaking rut shot through him like a bullet, ricocheting off his insides and settling to quiver at the bottom of his gut, still warm.

Cross- eyed, Todoroki wrinkled his nose where it nearly met his classmate’s. He should have expected that reaction, honestly.

Alpha Bakugou Katsuki is allergic to suppressants, and Todoroki Shouto is a Beta with a grudge. Together they strike a deal that swiftly becomes more than either of them had bargained for.            

As of this writing there is one more chapter left in this story, and I can’t wait to read it. Fascinating take on the biology of alphas and betas.

Proximate Cause (T, 5.3K) by @daddyissuesandgrenadehands - “It seems our dear Bakugou has punched a teacher.” Shockingly, there’s no sarcasm in Nedzu's voice. “Midoriya was involved somehow too, but we aren’t sure how just yet. This is quite serious, as you can imagine.”

Aizawa wouldn’t be opposed to a Nomu slamming his head into the ground a few more times. Maybe one could just come and finish the job for good this time. All he wanted was one freaking day of peace. Goddamit Bakugou.

A serious catalyzing event, yet some of the best wry humor I’ve encountered.

rule 02: stay (M, 23.6K) by @altinsky - The vampire leans in close, expression utterly business-like in its seriousness.

And the last thing Katsuki remembers is the feeling of a tongue touching the bleeding wound at the juncture of his throat, the feeling of inexplicable anger, the fleeting thought of — this guy is so fucking dead — and then, nothing.

(or: katsuki is a vampire hunter who, thanks to a series of misfortunate circumstances and his potent werewolf's blood, somehow ends up striking a deal with the most aggravating vampire in existence)

As I rule I don’t particularly like creature!fics, but this fic, perhaps inspired by the BNHA Halloween art, captivated me. Great use of canonical elements in an AU.

Starting Over From Ground Zero (E, 38.5K) by @xenophonspeaking and HyacinthAtropa - What would their relationship have been like, if Bakugou’s pride hadn’t stood in the way? Would they have been friends, or would things have mostly stayed the same? Would Bakugou have been happier, more open and honest about his feelings and wants and needs as a person? Would he have accepted and even appreciated the comfort others offered him, rather than always keeping people at arm’s-length in an effort to maintain an image of independence and strength?

Todoroki didn’t know.

He didn’t know. But he wanted to.

Abruptly, like a bolt of lightning, he realized he actually had the chance to find out.

(Or: that one where Bakugou has temporary amnesia and Todoroki is tasked with caring for him until his memory returns, but ends up falling in love with the part of Bakugou that Bakugou has always kept hidden away instead.)

For obvious reasons XenophonSpeaks was one of the first Todobaku writers I discovered, and this is one of my two favorite fics from a talented writer. I’ve been pleased, though not surprised, to see its kudos steadily rising over the months. A sweet getting together story, great use of the amnesia trope, hot lovemaking.

then, be mine. (M, 32.5K) by TDRKBKGO - The way things always trucked onwards despite the ruthlessness of it was a constant fucking boulder in Katsuki’s smooth machinery because he had no time. One thing happened after another and he was content, of course - he didn't want to stand still. In fact, that was probably the one thing he couldn't stand the thought of doing. But it meant leaving things behind.

This fic should have hundreds more kudos. I want to write a love letter to this writer, if it wouldn’t be super creepy. One of my favorite tropes — getting back together — angsty, some of the best-written (though not necessarily the smuttiest) smut I’ve read in BNHA.

Tracing the Sharp Edge of You (T, 4.7K) by hellsinki - “Why do you hate Midoriya so much?”

“Why do you fucking ask? Why not just assume?”

Why not just assume? He had tried that, but something just didn’t add up.

“Because it doesn’t fit your profile.”

This is my take on the reason behind Bakugou’s rocky relationship with Deku based on their canonical interactions, set in a soft todobaku narrative. It’s not what you have been reading up in the fandom, but this is what I think could be a very plausible reason. Fair warning: Not exactly Deku-friendly.            

This is a Todobaku fic, but it is actually a fascinating take on Bakugou’s relationship with Midoriya. If you read the comments you can see that a lot of readers didn’t understand (or appreciate) what the writer was doing. A refreshing read that I return to when I want something different.

Without Hesitation (T, 8.2K) by @xenophonspeaking - The first time Bakugou told Todoroki he was in love with him, he thought he’d die.

My other candidate for favorite fic from XenophonSpeaks. This fic makes my angst-loving heart sing, and there are some great ensemble comedic moments.

Yellow Umbrella (G, WIP) by veemon - When Todoroki’s interest finally catches Bakugous attention it may be too late for them to make up.

I adore this fic, and it launched my obsession with manipulative!Midoriya. I eat that shit up now. A rare G-rated abo story. I can’t wait until it updates.

you are my sun. (T, WIP) by TDRKBKGO -  “‘Why’d he have to go and become the Moon’, he said"  Shouto leans forward where he sits in a cherry tree on the verge of springing into full blossom, rubbing his temples.  

“Because he went and became the Sun.”

This fic blew my mind, and it’s breaking my heart that it hasn’t been updated in months. I was speechless when I finished the first chapter. Bakugou’s the sun, and Todoroki’s the moon, and the way the story maps onto canon is extraordinary.

[londontoseoularchive]

mirrors. | m

➵ characters: kang seungyoon x reader 

➵ genre: smut

➵ wc: 8.6k

➵ summary: pent up sexual frustration is finally alleviated. plus, seungyoon needs some love, to be honest. yes, it includes mirrors. nothing to do with mirros by justin timberlake. includes praise, orgasm control, a whiny seungyoon. this is a lot of smut, fuck me. pls love kang seungyoon thx

➵ warnings: semi-public, the littlest bit of asphyxiation

➵ masterlist

➵ disclaimer 

“Cheers!” the small shot glasses filled with palatable yet potent drink you and Seungyoon held clinked together, immediately downing the soju down your throats. He pulled a face that would depict a burn on his chest, that soon passed, shaking his body out of it.

“You still make the dumbest faces,” you smiled, pouring yourself and Seungyoon another shot.

“If it didn’t, then it’s not a good bottle,” he commented taking his own glass. He raised it to your glass again, repeating the same process and same contorted face. “I still do a lot of things since you’ve left for the US.”

“Yeah?” you raised your eyebrows. “So you still have to be taken home after two bottles?”

“Okay, my tolerance isn’t that bad anymore,” Seungyoon protested, “this past year has been about a learning experience. You just have to eat before or as you drink for it not to hit you so hard.”

“I mean, that’s basic knowledge, but glad you’ve finally caught up,” you patted him harshly on his arm, teasing him. “And this fried chicken place is a place we can start. Speaking of which...”

Your mouth started to salivate as a large platter of fried chicken approached your table, making Seungyoon turn towards the direction where your eyes had become fixated. He rubbed his hands together excitingly waiting for the tray of drumsticks to be placed on the table between you both.

“Thank you,” you said to the waitress.

“Hope you guys enjoy it,” she said with a beaming grin.

“We will,” Seungyoon assured her, wanting to tuck right in. He waited for you to take the first piece before taking his own. “To your return!”

“To my return!” you laughed to then take the first bite. Seungyoon looked to be thoroughly enjoying the food, going through his first drumstick rapidly just as you were only half way through your first.

Before he picked up another, he asked, “Didn’t you miss Korea? And us?”

You swallowed the bite you had taken before replying, “Of course I did. I missed YG, the boys, you...”

Seungyoon slowed down his movements, noting the sincerity in your voice. “Really? We thought you’d never come back...”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you chuckled. “I went to the US only for a year, and it was just to improve my production skills. I learned a lot and I’m thankful, but I always knew I was coming back. I couldn’t keep away from you too long, and you couldn’t survive without me for much longer either.”

Seungyoon smiled at your remark, knowing you said it as a joke, but still saw the truth behind it. He truly would have been lost around YG and Seoul has a whole if Hyunsuk had not suggested you take Seungyoon under your wing back when he was first introduced to the roster. Only being a few months younger than Seungyoon but having far more experience made the CEO see this as a perfect fit.

Though it only took a few months to adjust, you had both become so accustomed to each other’s company, the reliance on each other and friendship continued to grow, becoming stabilised.

As you both grew older and matured, so did your attitudes and perceptions, and you’d both be lying if you said the possibility of you both having more than just this friendship had not crossed your mind. But with the fear of ruining the friendship that was already near perfect, plus seeing and getting involved with other people acting as a show of disinterest for one another, although not true, you both opted to suppress any emotion that could escalate your circumstances, choosing to only continue to be close friends.

However, this year apart was particularly difficult. After five years of being attached hip to hip, the twelve months of separation weighed heavily on your hearts. To Seungyoon, through your crazy stories and experiences, he began to feel that he was about to lose you to the States. In the desperation of this possibility, he tried thinking of something that would make you return to Seoul, and more importantly return to him. In a phone call he had decided to finally admit that he couldn’t bear the thought of not being with you for one more moment, it was in that phone call you revealed you were to return to Seoul within the next two weeks. Seungyoon expressed happiness but tried to disguise his true excitement, simply stating that he would wait for you. But when he asked why you were returning, having thought you would not, you just stated that your time in the US was over, leaving out the main reason you only decided to stay for twelve months, despite being offered to stay longer, that life was not the same without him physically there with you. It just didn’t feel right.

Two weeks later, and having just dropped off your bags at the apartment YG stationed you in, the doorbell was rung just fifteen minutes after arriving. You did not know who could already have known this new address of yours as you yourself did not know until the day before, and you were shocked to peep through the hole to see who it was, your jaw dropped as you scrambled to open the door.

“Seungyoon!” you were barely able to say his name before he lifted you off your feet, having you wrap your legs around his waist, to embrace you firmly. He spun you a few times, making you shriek. “How did you know I–“

“I missed you so much,” he almost cried into your neck, keeping you extremely close. He couldn’t admit he had to beg Hyunsuk to reveal where you were going to live, the CEO understanding immediately why he was so desperate, writing down the address for him.

“I missed you too...” the crack in his voice pulling on your heartstrings and your eyes began to well up, returning to your feet. You took a finger quickly enough to your left eye to push a tear away before Seungyoon could see you as he posed you back down.

Your body began to tremble in disbelief; Seungyoon was finally with you again. You held his hands tightly as if for dear life, never wanting to let go. He too had his fingers threaded through yours, equating your grip. He could not stop looking at you, scanning your face with the widest smile imaginable. You were still as beautiful as he had remembered, if not more.

“Did you just get in?” he asked through his grin.

“Yeah, I-I haven’t even unpacked yet,” you giggled through your stutter, your heart beating rapidly as you took in the moment. “It’s only a few suitcases but it–“

“Don’t think about unpacking now. Come out with me.”

You widened your eyes. “Now?” He nodded eagerly. “I’ve barely been back for a couple of hours, you already want me to go out?”

“I know, but,” he bit the inside of his cheek picking his words wisely, “I haven’t seen you in forever and it’s Friday night. It’s still early, we can still do a lot. As soon as you feel tired, I’ll bring you home.”

“Well my body feels as if it’s ten in the morning, I’m barely even sleepy—“

“Then come,” Seungyoon started to walk backwards still holding onto your hands. “We can do whatever you want.”

“I’ll let you decide.”

“Ooh, alright then,” he smiled again, turning on his feet whilst still holding one hand to lead the way.

And that is how you ended up here in a fried chicken restaurant, in a place you swore was a hardware store before, reunited with your best friend Seungyoon.

“So what have you done this past year?” you wanted to appease your curiosity of what Seungyoon has been up to in your year away.

“Writing, composing… just the usual,” he said, “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“I have told you how good your comebacks this year were, right?”

“Yes, Y/N... about a hundred times already.”

“Make that a hundred-and-one times. Are the boys good?”

“Yeah, Hoon is still persistent on giving me his style tips, Minho and Jiho still spend an unprecedented amount of time together, and Jinwoo can still look in any direction and girls and guys alike still swoon.”

“Yeah, he did always have that effect on just human beings in general…” And now for the question you were itching to ask. “Have any girls been swooning over you?”

Seungyoon stopped his chewing motions to think his response. “None that matter.”

“Yeesh,” you tried to make joke of the situation, “so picky.”

“Excuse me and my standards,” he responded sarcastically. “I know what I like and want.”

“Hm, I guess that’s good that you know that. That makes two of us.”

“Really?”

“Really really really really…” you sang in its tune, making Seungyoon roll his eyes and you laughed. Positioning your shot glasses, you filled them up again. “Here’s to high standards.”

 Seungyoon took his glass and raised it to yours. “And to us becoming billionaires.”

If my feelings for you were money, you thought downing your drink in one swift gulp, then I’m already a billionaire.

Seungyoon felt his back-pocket vibrating, removing his phone from it to reveal Seunghoon’s name on the screen.

“Hoon! What’s up?” You were finishing up the last of your drumstick as Seungyoon spoke on the phone, taking a napkin to wipe the grease off the corners of your lips without ruining your lipstick. “Yeah? Alright, we’ll be there.”

“We’ll be where?” you asked.

Seungyoon shoved his phone back in his pocket, “you like karaoke, don’t you?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Then let’s go.” Seungyoon did not even wait for you to provide an answer, getting up to pull out his wallet, pulling enough notes of ten-thousand won to cover the bill and extra tips. “Thank you!”

He also did not wait for permission to take your hand, the alcohol already influencing his decisions. But you were not one to complaining, not protesting the sudden tug of your hand.

The karaoke place Seunghoon said he was at was only a few blocks away, perfect walking distance. While you walked, out of nowhere some speakers from a place that could not be identified started to blast one of Twice’s title tracks.

“Ooh, I know this song!” you exclaimed as if you had to prove that you were not out of the Korean loop. “Signal bonae, signal bonae, jjirit jjirit…” you danced along to the song as your increasingly inhibited mind and body would allow you, but still in a state of mind that you remember the pointer dance, shooting your finger antlers in Seungyoon’s direction. “I’m sending you a signal, Seungyoon.”

As you squinted your eyes in concentration as if you were really trying to send a signal telepathically, Seungyoon looked at you as if it was the most shocking but amusing sight he had ever seen.

“Are you not getting the signal?” you continued your quest to send the message, I want you, I want you.

“I’m not getting the message, sorry,” he laughed. “Try harder.”

And so, stupidly, you did. “When are you gonna stop treating me like a friend?” you whispered through gritted teeth, trying to make the message a little clearer but without the confidence of speaking it out loud. “You fool…”

“Pardon?” Seungyoon closed in his ear, having sworn you just called him a fool.

You straightened your body and cleared your throat, dismissing your own attempts. “Nothing. The noraebang is close by, right?” Scurrying ahead of him, you headed in the direction you presumed was the correct one, leaving Seungyoon blinking rapidly still trying to comprehend you.

The flashing lights and neon signs of arrows, one of them flickering noraebang in both Korean and English, indicated to you that you were in the right place. Looking beyond your shoulder, you saw Seungyoon close enough behind you that you could enter the lobby. Bowing more enthusiastically than most, possibly due to the soju, you asked the woman who had a smile brighter than her signs if the main party was on the top floor, as you could hear the loud commotion coming from above you, and you could only guess it’s where you were headed to. Seungyoon was already a step ahead of you, taking your hand once again into his to begin your trip up the stairs, but leaving you enough time to thank the kind woman, promising you won’t be too much of a hassle.

The speed in which you were made to storm up those steps showed Seungyoon’s anxiousness to show everyone that you were finally back, like he knew you would be. You took it as a form of flattery, as if he couldn’t wait to show you off, but of course wary of missing a step and falling flat on your face.

“You really wanna pour your heart out in song, don’t you?” you laughed, almost reaching the top floor.

“I have to get my Celine Dion on,” he joked also, taking that final step. He entered the room first to cheers of ‘you made it!’

You come quickly from behind him, eager to greet Seunghoon. “You didn’t miss me too much, did you?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, opening his arms immediately. Embracing him, you saw behind him and the others either standing with microphones in their hand or around a table topped with several bottles of soju and bear. “Hey, Y/N’s back!”

Next to give you a bear hug was Minho, even picking you up from your feet. “I knew you couldn’t last in the States!” You pinched his back for the remark to which he could only laugh to.

You noticed it was Jinwoo who was currently singing, and decided to play a little trick on him. The projected screen the beamed onto the white wall showed lyrics to Whitney Houston’s Saving All My Love for You. A brave song for Jinwoo to have picked, in your opinion.

“No other woman is gonna love you more!” he belted passionately. “Because tonight is the night that I'm feeling alright!”

You decided to join him. “We'll be making love the whole night through!”

Jinwoo’s concentration remained intact. “So I'm saving all my love!”

Now you stood next to him, slowly wrapping your arm around his waist. “Yeah, I'm saving all my loving!”

Though he continued to sing, he turned towards the direction of the body that was now attached to his hip. “Yes, I'm saving all my love for—Y/N!” His eyes were blown out in shock and surprise.

“Jinwoo!” You imitated his face.

“Y/N!”

“Jinwoo!” Finally, he bent his knees to pick you up by your thighs, twirling a few times, making you squeal. “God, you’re just as insane!”

“You’re-when-here-did you-how-get back?!” he stuttered through a grin.

“Literally just today. I didn’t even think I was gonna see you all so soon—you got a 98!”

“This is such a wonderful surprise—wait, I did?!” He turned forwards once again to see the big number indicating his score. “I did!” He leaped elatedly with both fists above his head. “I told you I’d beat you, Zi.”

“Damn, Jiho, you really thought you could beat Jinwoo?” you turned to a corner of the room to see where Jiho was sitting, covering half his face in disbelief.

“And he did his own song, so technically, he even cheated!”

“Oh, did he now?” you raised an eyebrow.

“No rules were set about that!” he protested nervously, getting up to head towards you. “So I was within my rights. It’s great to see you again, Y/N.”

“You too, Jiho,” you hugged him, seeing Jinwoo pour three shots off the corner of your eye. “You’re not gonna drink all of those by yourself, are you?”

“Of course not,” Jinwoo said, placing the bottle back down. “You two are gonna drink with me.”

You and Jiho headed towards Jinwoo, taking your designated shots. “To Y/N being back!” Jinwoo declared.

“To Y/N!” Jiho followed suit.

“To me!” Clinking your glasses together, the fruity shot went down your throat smoothly, but you knew it was going to make its way into bloodstream very quickly. You turned to see who else was there to find Seungyoon already hot on your back, clashing with his chest, using your hands to brace yourself.

“You’re already having fun, I see,” Seungyoon spoke lowly, peering down to you. You were somewhat scared to look up back into his eyes, deciding to keep your gaze on how his chest and neck were to your lips.

“How about you sing a song now?” you suggested, trying to change the subject. “How about Signal, we were just listening to it outside. I bet Seunghoon already knows the dance.”

Seunghoon was already way ahead of you. “Come on, Yoon. We all know you love a good Twice song.”

Seungyoon unlatched himself from you, taking the microphone Seunghoon offered.

“Trying to let you know, signeul bonae, signal bonae…”

And surely, just as you predicted, there was Seunghoon doing his best rendition of the choreography to Signal, more entertaining than it was technical. It provided everyone a good laugh, and you even wanted to get in the shenanigans. You tried to imitate his moves and steps, which you could only predicted nothing like the original, but you couldn’t care less. You never thought you’d be having so much fun just hours of returning. You thought people would have forgotten about you, moved on, had better things to do than reintroduce you into their lives. But it’s like nothing has changed, and you liked it just the way it is.

You took several bows in the direction of the applause and whistles, straightening your posture to see Seungyoon leaned against the wall, also impressed with your performance. He took a look to his left and headed into a separated area from the room, a place you guessed is where the refreshments were held.

“Who’s next?!” you called out, and both Minho and Jiho raised their hand. You held the microphone out for one of them to take it, Minho being the one to do so, leaving them to argue over the microphone as you followed Seungyoon. You found he had turned another corner, deeper into the adjoining room, going into the mini fridge next to a small sofa to take out something.

Already knowing you’d follow him, he asked, “you didn’t strain your vocal chords, did you?” in a teasing manner as he licked his bottom lip, turning to hand you a small bottle of water.

“I have iron chords, they’ll never be damaged,” you replied smugly, nudging his shoulder. Twisting its cap, you downed three large gulps of the cool water, enough for it to begin clearing your mind.

“You did sing with so much passion… as if you had some pent-up tension inside of you,” he continued to analyse you.

The water you just drank was filtering the alcohol inside of you, and that nervous stutter you’d usually have returned. “W-well, you have to sing the song that way, otherwise, you just-the song doesn’t sound the same if-“

“It was sexy.”

The bluntness of his statement took you aback. “Sexy? Were you listening to the same song back there or...”

“It was sexy,” he repeated with a laugh. “You were sexy. Beautiful, even.”

You tried your best to stop yourself from blushing by fanning your cheeks with your fingers, failing miserably. “You know you sound ridiculous right now. Did you drink more than me tonight?”

“Do I need alcohol to tell you how I really feel?” He was approaching you, but you were nailed to the floor, too shook to move. Just as your legs and feet received the message from your brain to take a step back, Seungyoon already had an arm around your waist, the other playing with your fingers of the hand beside you. “I could have used a song just like how you did. How will I know if he really loves me? You think I’m that oblivious?”

“Well…” you said inwardly. “You didn’t get the signal from earlier…”

“Oh, I got it, I just wanted to see you make a fool of yourself.”

You scoffed. “You’re fucking unbelievable. Did I need to put on a whole performance with back up dancers and a band for you to get the me—”

Midway through your sentence, your lips became preoccupied with Seungyoon’s own lips landing on yours for the softest yet deepest kiss you’ve ever been given. The first thing his hands searched for was your neck to grip onto, wanting to keep you in place. Although you were unable to move, you did not want to go anywhere, having your hands find his biceps, clinging onto them. The kiss was hot, Seungyoon wanting to taste all of you at once, moulding his lips perfectly over yours. You tried to comprehend that what you had wanted to happen for so long, was finally happening.

Though you don’t remember the last time your heart beat so fast, the last bit of your senses that was still active came to play. “Se-Seungyoon—”

“Y/N, please,” he said breathlessly, moving to have his hands on the small of your back to have your body flushed against his. This prompted you to wrap your arms entirely around his neck. You almost lost your balance when you felt Seungyoon take a few steps back, taking them quickly enough to sit down on the small settee, pulling you onto him.

“Oh my God…” you whispered shakenly, not realising you were freely speaking your mind.

“What?” Seungyoon asked worryingly. “Do you want to stop?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I just can’t believe—oh my god!” As soon as Seungyoon received your approval, he undid the first few buttons of your blouse, quickly attaching his wet lips onto the plump flesh of the top of your breasts. Your breath hitched, cradling the back of his head, “you’re fucking insane.”

“For letting you get away from me in the first place, yes, I am.” His lips travelled lower and lower, until he had to use his teeth to move the fabric of your thin bra out of his way, leaving a wet trail leading to your nipple. You had to look around you for caution to see if anyone could see you, but you just heard loud music and laughter coming from the other room, the crew being far too preoccupied to have noticed you and Seungyoon missing.

Not wanting you to lean back too far, his hands remained on your back to hold you stable, making his way up your chest once again, getting to your neck to graze his teeth across it, sucking at your pulse point lightly. “As much as I love you like this,” he chuckled, “I don’t want a possible audience walking in on us... Unless you’re into that.”

“You seem like the type to be,” you laughed also.

“Maybe, but that’s for you to find out another time. Right now, though…” he helped you do the buttons of the blouse you already began on. “Let me take you home.”

Swiftly you removed yourself off Seungyoon, pulling the hem of your blouse down in the attempt to straighten it. This time, you lead the way out of the secluded room, going into the initial room to see everyone up on their feet facing the screen, singing at the top of their lungs a song you couldn’t make out. Whilst you headed for the corner of the room where yours and Seungyoon’s coats were, he leaned in between Minho and Seunghoon, letting them both know he was taking you home. They turned to face you, quickly waving at you with wide smiles, and you returned the gesture. Seungyoon then jogged to you, wanting to get onto the streets as quickly as possible.

Your jacket was on you once more before you could meet the bitter cold, seeing a taxi approach as soon as you stepped foot into the street. Hailing it, you hopped in and Seungyoon followed closely behind. Remembering your new address, you instructed the driver where to go. Once the taxi was in motion, you felt a hand flattening on the inside of your thigh, turning to the person the hand belonged to.

Before you could swat it away, Seungyoon had already gripped onto your leg, and with your face now turned to him, he cupped your cheek to bring your lips onto his, but it was delicate and tender, not the feverish and desperate kiss from before. Still as enticing, you couldn’t help but smile, also feeling his lips curl over yours.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

“Then why didn’t you visit?” you kissed the corner of his mouth, heading down to his jaw.

“Because I knew you’d come back to me,” he began to stroke your leg, still caressing your cheek. “But one more day without you, and I might have gone insane.”

“You really have a way with words, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t be able to write all those great comebacks if I didn’t.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, becoming increasingly louder and infectious, making Seungyoon chuckle at his own joke.

Over his shoulder and out the window, you noticed that you were approaching the entrance of your new apartment complex. “Oh, we’re here.”

You paid the cab driver before Seungyoon had the chance to, exiting the car. By the time you had gone around the back of the vehicle, Seungyoon was already waiting for you with his hand held out. Though you took it, it was you tugging at his arm as you jogged to the entrance. Upon walking through the glass doors, you located the lift to your right, calling one to take you to the eleventh floor.

Stepping in, you turned on your heel with a smile to meet Seungyoon’s facial expression to have changed entirely to a desirous one, closing in on you and your body to have you backed up onto the back wall of the carrier, wrapping your arms around his neck instantly.

Never taking his eyes off yours, he was able to undo the button of your jeans in one swift motion, pulling down the zipper promptly. You did not need to be told to spread your legs a little more, doing so to give Seungyoon easier access. The teasing portion was not entirely skipped, as his finger traced small circles over the top of your panties, so close yet so far away from where you wanted him.

Because he was approaching your core, your hands flew to the rail behind you, gripping onto it tightly, preparing yourself for what was to come. As if on cue, the same finger, adjoined by two others, dipped under the silk material, tracing them from your entrance, coating them entirely in your pooling wetness, up to your clit. With his fingers being well lubricated, there was little friction, but just enough, over your clit, making you gasp loudly for air.

Though you tried not to, your eyes deviated from Seungyoon’s as your lids dropped, feeling yourself easily give in to his touch. So, he also looked away, but down at his busy hand, seeing it move under the constraining and tough material, bringing a smirk to his face. Never looking away, the three fingers Seungyoon worked over your clit picked up their pace, going in circles with just the perfect amount of pressure.

The quickened pace made your head drop forward with your mouth gaping, breathing heavily whilst occasionally moaning, your grip on the rail weakening. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed inwardly.

Seungyoon’s unoccupied hand that was at your side met your jaw, cradling it softly, pulling your face up to look at him once again. “How are you this wet already?” he whispered almost tauntingly.

But you were willing to play this game of his. “How do you think?” you chuckled. “The minute you had me sitting on your cock… Don’t think I didn’t notice you getting hard.”

“You did look pretty on me… Bet you’d look better with me inside of you,” Seungyoon held your face still so he could roughly land his lips on yours, his tongue wasting no time to enter your mouth. Your hands left the rail to also hold him by him jaw, but this allowed Seungyoon to lean further into you, making you moan into his mouth.

Your right leg innately hiked up to wrap it around Seungyoon’s waist the best you could, taking his left hand from your face to grab you from under your knee. He switched his focus of his right hand solely onto his middle finger, administering more controlled and harsher circles over your engorging clit.

“Fuck, Seungyoon!” you moaned.

“You look so hot like this, holy shit,” he let his thoughts run freely with a strained groan, feeling his cock hardening by the second. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”

You didn’t have an answer for him, too consumed in the pleasure. Much to your dismay, the lift came to a slow halt, making you growl inwardly. You held Seungyoon’s wrist to indicate him to stop, but he seemed hard to convince.

“The quicker we get inside,” you chuckled, “the quicker you can get me off these clothes. So, move it.”

The transition from the lift to the front door of the same apartment Seungyoon whisked you away from was swift, this time arriving with lips locked, arms intertwined, and anxious to get to your bedroom. The apartment was just as unfamiliar to Seungyoon as it was to you, engaging you both in a guessing game.

However, the game was short lived as you gathered some common sense from your foggy but hyperactive brain, predicting that the room farthest into the apartment was the master bedroom. Clinching onto the collar of Seungyoon’s jacket, you led the way, walking backwards to get there.

Seungyoon’s hand held onto the handle of the bedroom to pull it down, opening it to reveal the jaw-dropping decor. “Oh, wow, YG must really like you.”

As your back was to what he was referring you, you scrunched your eyebrows in confusion but chuckled. “What do you mean?” It’s when you turned around to understand what he was referring to. “Oh, shit.” Your eyes grew in size in pure admiration, never thinking you’d get such sleek and modern furniture in your room. A small and simple one-bedroom apartment would have sufficed, but upon entering the home the first time you already felt spoiled, and even more so now.

You weren’t in awe for long, when you feel Seungyoon snake the palm of his hands onto your lower stomach, pushing your back up against his chest, allowing him to drop his lips to your ears to whisper, “he got you a huge bed for me to fuck you in.”

Your breath hitched, feeling his teeth graze at the delicate skin of your neck, sure to leave marks, and then dragged a long, wet tongue across the same spot, a spot that made your thighs tremble.

“Then get on it,” you instructed him breathlessly, shaking his hands off you to have him move. Going around you, he once again was in front of you, taking you with him until he felt the perimeter of the bed on the back of his shins, sitting down and scooting back on it. You crawled as you followed him, keeping your faces close enough to feel each other’s cool breaths.

When Seungyoon reached the row of pillows, your legs parted to have each knee sink beside each side of his body, lowering your crotch to align with his, already feeling his hardening bulge nestling between your clothed lower lips. His mouth gaped at the friction caused, exhaling deeply. His hands rested on the sides of your face and jaw, licking his lips as he took in your beauty. “I think you’re even more beautiful than when you left.”

“Are you trying to be romantic, Kang Seungyoon?” you questioned him.

“I can be sometimes,” he migrated his hands to have them skim your sides to reach your hips and then your waist, clenching your cheeks with open palms, “no matter how badly I wanna kiss you, and taste you…”

He didn’t let you speak as he craned his neck to connect his lips to yours, having one hand on the back of your neck to bring your face down to him, opening his mouth instantly to deepen the kiss. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue on yours, his crotch on yours, but you needed his skin on yours.

You sat up on him, pulling your jacket off your shoulders and blouse over your head, allowing Seungyoon to remove his own jacket and fitted tee. As your arms and head were up and ready to remove the piece or clothing from you, you noticed your reflection above you. “There’s a mirror on the ceiling?”

“Oh, damn, there is,” Seungyoon laughed. “This just got a lot more fun.” Next to go were both pairs of jeans, tugging at each other’s materials to free your legs from them, Seungyoon pulling at yours after you removed his. He took this opportunity to be on top this time, smacking your thighs apart, making you giggle. He didn’t waste any time in having his fingers fondle with the clasp of your bra, releasing it swiftly, starting his trail of kisses down your chest.

You followed Seungyoon closely as he moved down your body, threading your fingers lightly through his hair as his wet kisses reached your hardening nipple, making your back arch instantly. Inhaling a large breath, you exhaled a whimper feeling his tongue circle the bud. “Fuck, Seungyoon,” you said lowly, tightening the grip you had on his strands. Liking how you reacted to him, he dug his tongue harder and faster, making you pant. Though your eyes were trained on him, they felt heavy, already feeling yourself sink into the bed.

He administered the same rough and wet tongue on your other breast, making you groan. “I’m getting wet again, shit,” you felt your already damp panties become drenched again, and your skin felt prickly and hypersensitive to any touch.

When Seungyoon’s mouth left your chest and continued its trip down to your stomach, you braced yourself for what was coming next. As expected, Seungyoon tugged at the waistband of your panties, hooking his fingers under it to sweep them off you, discarding them somewhere unknown.

You closed your eyes in anticipation, swallowing hard. You felt his kisses on your pelvic bones down to the top of your thighs until his lips travelled went inwards. “Y/N?”

Your brain felt clouded in your arousal and anticipation, blinking your eyes open as you heard your name being called. “Yeah?”

“Get on my face. Sit on me,” he moved up your body quickly to get into position.

“You want me to do what?”

“You heard me, get on my face. But turn around.”

You sat up to see Seungyoon shifting as he laid beside you into a comfortable position, unsure if he meant it. But your body screamed out to you just fucking do it, already aching for some and any type of touch where you need it most.

If you wanted to turn around then he wanted you face away from him, getting your body to do just so. But it all clicked in your head, like a lightbulb had just switched above you, now knowing exactly what he wanted. “If you wanted me to touch you too, you could have just asked.”

“I thought I’d be smooth about it. Now bring that ass here.”

Doing as you were told, you positioned yourself perfectly for Seungyoon, taking little time to tug at his boxers, letting his erection free. Holding him upright, you started stroking him but slowly, feeling his arms wrap around your thighs to bring you down further onto him. That’s when his lips met your clit, sweetly at first.

You sighed in bliss, dropping your lips to his shaft, kissing along its length before enveloping your mouth around the head. Seungyoon groaned into you, grazing his fingernails through your skin. He worked his tongue faster on your clit, making you moan. Taking him deeper into your mouth, you tried hard to concentrate on Seungyoon, at least keeping your hand in motion. Once back in your mouth, you tasted the precum leaking onto your tongue, him thrusting shallowly past your lips.

The sensitivity of your clit grew, your body jolting every time Seungyoon’s tongue swiped and hit the right spot, your breathing becoming hot and ragged.

You continuously stroked the head of Seungyoon’s cock as you tried to regain control of your breathing, the slick sounds it created making your insides tremble even more. The way Seungyoon’s smooth tongue moved precisely over your clit meant your orgasm was imminent, even if you wanted to savour this for a moment longer. His own groans vibrated through your core, adding to the pleasure you were already receiving.

“Ah-fuck! Don’t stop, right there,” your voice quivered as did your thighs around his head, trying to keep them open. Your mouth returned where Seungyoon wanted it most, hissing at the sensation of your own tongue on his most sensitive place. Feeling his own orgasm approaching fast, he knew he needed to get you to yours. That’s when his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it feverously. Your lower half bucked further into Seungyoon’s mouth, your body reacting positively to his new move. Driven, your mouth too wrapped around him entirely, working with your hand to get him over that edge.

You were the first to succumb to Seungyoon. “Shit-I’m gonna-fuck-cum!” You reached a body-shattering orgasm, your breath halting all together. You called out Seungyoon’s name amid your moans, as he held you close to continue to suck your clit through your orgasm. You could barely form a sentence, still somehow being able to glide your thumb over the right place, and soon enough, his hot seed spilled to coat your fingers and palm, his hips thrusting into your hand to fuck your hand.

“Holy shit, Y/N!” his heart thumped against his rib cage, breathing deeply. “Fuck me, that was… fuck.”

“Fuck is right… Goddamn…” you rolled off him and onto your back, your hand on your chest to fell how fast your own heart was going, licking your other hand clean. “But we’re not done.”

“Of course not. I’m ready when you are.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for me, baby boy.”

“Try me, princess.” That’s when you sat up, moving your body that would you be over his. More than willing, Seungyoon welcomed you with his arms wide open with the most devilish grin on his face.

With your hands firmly planted on Seungyoon’s chest, you wasted no time in having Seungyoon sink into you, raising and dipping your hips, only slowly at first, indulging in the feeling of your walls gripping onto his shaft. Your eyes remained half opened, just being able to see Seungyoon attentively gazing at how he disappeared into and emerged from your body. His hands were raised as his elbows rested on the bed, the palms close to your waist but not holding you by it yet, wanting to see how well you worked over him. By his bitten bottom lip and scrunched expression, you could tell he was enjoying himself.

“Ah, fuck,” he chuckled, letting his head fall back onto his pillow and then exhaled deeply. “Goddamn it, Y/N, just like that.”

The words of encouragement brought a smirk to your own face, inspiring you to go a little faster. That sweet spot within you was stimulated just enough to have you moan under your breath, digging your nails shallowly into the skin of Seungyoon’s chest. He hissed, more in pleasure than in pain, darting his head up once again. His hands finally found your waist, not afraid to grip onto them tightly.

“Who knew you could ride dick this well?” he teased you, migrating his hands from your waist to your ass cheeks, grasping onto them roughly.

“There’s a lot you didn’t know about me before tonight,” you replied with a smile, leaning into him to embrace him by his neck and jaw, tilting his head up to kiss him deeply. Your body began flushed against his, the sweat you both formed acting like adhesive. Having you in this new position allowed Seungyoon to thrust upwards into you, meeting you halfway. Detaching his lips from yours, Seungyoon groaned at the new-found motion, taking his hands to your back and shoulder so you wouldn’t move.

You held your lower body still so Seungyoon could drill into you, your breath becoming laboured. With your face diving into Seungyoon’s neck, your teeth quickly found its flesh, leaving behind small marks and a trail of saliva. Still, you inhaled and exhaled ruggedly, cursing often.

“Fuck, Seungyoon,” you tried to speak, but your moans would make it difficult to. “You tryna cum already?”

“You talk as if you don’t want to,” reluctantly, he loosened his hold on you. “We’ve been waiting long enough, don’t you think?”

You slowly raised your body to sit up straight, lazily grinding down on him. “Just a little while longer. Make it last, baby.”

“You’re asking for the impossible,” Seungyoon caressed your thighs as he looked at your body waves, finding himself deeper inside of you. “Fuck me, you’re tight…”

In denying him an orgasm, you were denying yourself as well, and half of you wanted to hate you for is. But you were determined to keep some form of self-control. You took his hands from your thighs, “Feel more of me.”

You slowly guided his hand past your pelvis, up your stomach to reach your chest, cupping your hands over his and they fondled your breasts, letting his thumbs stroke of your hardened nipples. You let your head drop back with a satisfied sigh, grinding down harder.

Seungyoon revelled in the softness of your skin and the plumpness of your flesh, drinking in the sight. His mouth salivated though his throat felt dry, like he thirsted for more. “You look so fucking beautiful…”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you commented, noting how the sweat upon his forehead caused several hair strands to stick to it, his lips were thicker, and his eyes had that desperate yet satisfied tone to them. Leaving his hands, you searched his chest for leverage again, allowing you to set your feet onto the bed. Seungyoon knew what you were doing, and by the grin on his face, he seemed excited for what was to come.

In this position, you could descend onto Seungyoon quicker, deeper and harder. Despite going at a steady pace, your g-spot was hit each time with enough pressure and friction, prompting you to go faster. Your heart began to thump against your chest that Seungyoon could feel it, and by how your moans got louder, he could tell you were receiving just as much pleasure as him.

With each thrust, you felt yourself getting even wetter than before, coating Seungyoon’s shaft in its entirety. His teeth gritted at the slipperiness and the warmth, trying to hold out for as long as he could. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“You feel-ah, shit-so fucking good. Just a little longer, huh? Can you do that for me, Seungyoon?”

He tried to respond but your continuous motion caused him to groan instead, finding it increasingly difficult to keep his orgasm at bay. He pushed his head back into the pillow, straining his neck. You didn’t think to wait for an answer either, too engrossed in the sensation.

When your walls began to contract around his shaft like a vice, he felt like he was about to lose it. “Oh, fuck! Baby, wait!” His hands went to your lower back to hold you down entirely and to stop you from moving, burying himself into you. His breaths were short and deep, saying, “Just… just wait a minute… Holy shit.”

“Have I got you that worked up?” you giggled, placing small kisses along his jawline.

“You’re having all the fun,” he whined, feeling himself throb inside of you, yearning for that friction again. “Let me do a little sum’ too.”

“And what do you suggest?” you moved your lips to start kissing his neck and shoulders.

“Let’s get up,” was his first suggestion. As if your legs didn’t feel weak enough now he wants you on your feet. However, you were curious, so you mustered every bit of energy you had to follow him, although you did not know what he was up to. Getting up at the same time, Seungyoon was able to keep your back to his chest, leading you to the large wall mirror.

“You know I keep telling you how beautiful you are,” he spoke into your ear, biting its earring-clad lobe. “I want you to see how good you look when I take you from behind.”

He pushed your body with his own, making you walk towards the said mirror. You used your hands to brace yourself, fingerprints marking your reflection. Looking up slightly, you saw Seungyoon behind you, moving your legs just how he wanted, propping your lower body up and making you stand somewhat on the tip of your toes.

Seungyoon took his hard shaft to drag his reddened tip along the length of your lips down to your clit, making sure you were wet enough. The contact of his member only on the exterior brought a shudder to your spine, whining inwardly as you waited impatiently for him to penetrate you.

Once his tip found the rim of your entrance once again, his hand released from his shaft to feel himself sink into you, your walls sucking him in promptly. With one hand on your lower back and another holding onto your shoulder, his body thrusted forwards, making him groan through gritted teeth.

Already feeling weak without having even set a pace yet, you let your head fall forwards, making you face the ground. You tried your best to maintain the arch in your back, but your trembling limbs made this a difficult task.

Not knowing how much longer you’ll last, you pressed Seungyoon, “I’m going to be the one pushing you up against this mirror to fuck you if you don’t–“

The grip Seungyoon had on your waist and shoulder became deadly, burying his fingertips into your skin. The strong hold was so he could thrust harshly whilst still trying to keep you in place. It was forceful enough to have you stop pestering him and gasp for air in despair, but it felt so damn good.

It was ruthless thrust after ruthless thrust, and your heart beat like never before. Words could not be formulated, and the sounds from your mouth were frantic but like music to Seungyoon’s ears.

He himself would curse under his breath before exuding a whine, his jaw slackened and eyebrows contorted. “Baby... Oh, fuck, Y/N.” Seungyoon’s heavy breaths were audible, groaning every time he drove himself deeper into you. “Look at yourself in the mirror, baby. Look.” The hand on your shoulder moved to your neck, carefully pulling your head and body up by it. “Look how beautiful you look while I fuck you.”

Though your lids draped heavily over your retinas, you saw your body jolt with every thrust Seungyoon gave, your bouncing breasts, swollen lips and beads of sweat dripping down your temples.

“Seungyoon... I–“

“You look so fucking hot, Jesus Christ,” he began a wet trail of open-mouth kisses on the back and side of your neck. “You feel–shit–your pussy feels so good around me.”

You chuckled once. “You like how my pussy feels, baby?”

Seungyoon groaned at how you spoke to him, making his wrap his fingers around your neck a little tighter. “Fuck yeah, Y/N,” he whined. “I fucking love it.” Though Seungyoon was the one drilling into you mercilessly, the one that had your body shaking, who held you close by your neck, his voice was fragile and submissive. The combination of it all caused your fingers to claw at the mirror in the search for something to grip onto, swearing that you were losing your mind.

“Baby,” his voice quivered. Your core throbbed and pulsated around him every time you head his voice, and he felt each contraction. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“I’m so close, just—” as if he read your mind, his fingers went from being enveloped around your neck to massaging your engorged clit, wanting to also take you over the edge. Your mouth gaped, unable to finish your sentence, exuding a vehement groan. “Please don’t stop!”

Your plead was enough for him to muster any remaining energy left, administering the final frantic thrusts that meant your climatic end, uncontrollably squeezing your walls around Seungyoon’s cock. The orgasm sucked the breath out of you, fighting to keep your body up and steady for Seungyoon, still revelling in your orgasm. “F-fuck!”

“I’m gonna cum! Y/N!” Seungyoon’s eyes clamped shut as he withdrew from you entirely, taking himself into his hand to pump long white stripes onto your lower back and ass cheeks, his carnal groans resonating through the room. “Oh my god!”

You could finally rest on the soles of your feet, but felt so worn out your knees it was difficult to stay up. Seungyoon held you so you wouldn’t move so quickly. “Whoa, there. Come lay on the bed.”

Falling onto the bed on your stomach exhausted, Seungyoon dashed to your adjoining bathroom, already equipped with towels, taking the smallest one he could find and dampening it under the faucet. You were started to drift as your eyes slowly closed themselves when you felt pressure on your back, turning to see Seungyoon wiping you clean, dropping your head onto the bed with a thump.

“You’re not gonna sleep like that, are you?” Seungyoon asked with a chuckle. “Get under the covers.”

“I’m too lazy to,” you mumbled, wanting to fall asleep.

“Come on,” he laughed, turning you onto your back and pulling up to sit up by your hands, embracing you to help you get onto your feet. Though you protested with a sigh, you returned the embrace, opening your eyes once again. The proximity of your bodies again made you lost for words, and when you tried to spoke you’d stumble on your words.

“I missed you too…” you were finally able to say. “Really, I did.”

“I wonder what you’ll do next time you leave and come back,” he teased you with a smile. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to stay away from you that long.”

“Does that mean you won’t let me sleep by myself in my bed?”

“I-I mean, if you want to, I can leave-I’ll be back tomorrow, but if you want to sleep—”

“Seungyoon.”

“I get that you want to sleep—”

“Seungyoon.”

“What?”

“Get in the bed.”

He looked at you blankly, until it hit him. “Oh. Right.”

a/n: it’s done! oh my god, this took too long.

[purple-prose-porn]

Pluvia Gardens: Loft 1406

He didn’t need the call from the front desk to tell him his newest tenant was there, he didn’t need Cecilia to text him the second Delia’s inheritee walked through the lobby doors. He didn’t need it because the change in the atmosphere was palpable, he’d been playing with a Set of six for the last two years and now, suddenly, was the final seventh. Different from the last, different from Delia but no less delicious and even if pain wasn’t something he minded, it was something that got under his skin and hummed.

He remembered Delia’s first time through those doors, all painted smiles and dark eyes and carrying a single bag. She’d been so young then, barely twenty and ready to leave behind everything of her old life to become rich and famous and live a life more glamourous than the movies ever told her. He’d felt her too, she’d been a gentle tone, the harmonizer to an already flawless choir because her arrival had come as planned. Her inheritee though, Aryn, his arrival was late and his arrival was more of a bell chime after a long day of off pitches.

Nazar breathed in deep as he thought about all the lovely fun to be had with a full Set again. Desmond and Isabella were the only generational pair he had at the moment and it was interesting, so interesting to see them interact with each other whenever they were here together. He would have loved to see Delia and Aryn here, would have loved to see the brash, bold bitch and her demure, dour son.

Delia’s dead though, had been for the last two years and it was tragic. He could remember all the tabloids and newspaper articles and social media posts about it, Delia Daniels Dead, at least she got to keep her alliteration. He remembered how many people flooded his apartment building, how many people demanded to see where the woman had died, how many of them had tried to steal bits and pieces of her chandelier. Investigators, police men, grieving friends, even the random fans who made it past Cecelia, all of them wanted a piece of their idol.

“Something just called to us. It’s…it’s just so beautiful!” they’d all explained, excused and stuttered when they all got caught. Nazar wondered what her son would think of her monument to her own vanity, from what he knew about Aryn, he wasn’t the type to like gaudy things. Who knew for sure though? Surprises and all that.

Nazar waited an hour, not longer, not less, to go visit his newest tenant. He lounged in his own room, listening to the sounds of his apartment, Isabella was late for class again and in this rain she wouldn’t make it. Oh well, another weekend of drinking to make herself feel better, drinking and fucking of course and maybe he’d see if she wanted company. He could hear Marissa and Jack arguing again, over something banal, and then something crashing against a wall. He didn’t even have to count the seconds before Marissa went storming out and Jack started punching the walls.

He breathed in the scent of the rain as it poured down, so cool, and heard the sounds of all the other tenants of his apartment. He heard the shower start in Delia’s, heard her son peel out of wet clothed that slapped on the bathroom floor. He heard Marissa catch up to Isabella, heard someone being slammed up against the wall and someone else being kissed, heard the breathy little moans start up and knew Isabella would definitely miss her class now.

He let them play for a little while longer, listened to them grabbing at each other, heard a hand snaking under a skirt and rubbing smooth thighs on the way. He let them get as far as grinding against each other, knew that they were five seconds away from outright fucking before he leaves his apartment. He hears Aryn open the door, catch sight of the pair of whores then shut the door, it was the perfect time to introduce himself.

Marissa and Isabelle didn’t even look up when he knocked on the door, not that he expected them to.

“Ah, hello.”

Well, well, well, not the voice he was expecting, much higher pitched, much more sultry than he would have guessed. Nazar has never spoken to Delia’s son before, never had the pleasure of it but he knows it’s something he won’t get bored of. Not when the boy could barely look him in the face, eyes sliding over and away in a perfectly practiced movement so unlike his mother. Aryn was so unlike his mother in so many ways but so like her in others and he couldn’t wait to find out more.

“Hello, I’m Nazar? The landlord, I thought I’d come introduce myself,” he explained smoothly, resting a hand on the doorknob and angling his body towards the apartment. He knew how to play this game, how to keep his hands to himself and keep his tenants at ease. Not many of them needed it anymore but the first time, the first day, it’s always a shock to them, so different but they can never pin point why.

“May I come in?” he prompted, noticing the way cool grey eyes had slid past him automatically and stayed over his shoulder, not even flickering at his mouth as he spoke but plain not looking him in the face at all. Different than anxiety but somewhere close, less erratic, a little more trained? Hmm, how interesting.

Aryn didn’t even seem to hear him for a few seconds, too busy staring past him and into the hall, too busy trying to figure out what was wrong here maybe. Nazar was willing to wait though, he had all the time in the world for his new guest and he knew how to wear down a person. Drop a shoulder against the door frame, shift weight to the back leg and tower over them even if he wasn’t actually taller. Confidence and appearance were so easy to use and manipulate, just wear certain clothes, just smile a certain way, just speak with the perfect cadence and worm your way into their worlds.

“Yes, please. I’m Aryn Poe,” the boy answered after a beat too long, not long enough to be awkward but long enough to be noticed. Nazar noticed though, he noticed everything about the closed off body language, the fingers that slipped off the doorknob the second he grabbed the other end of it, even the head dip to make sure eye contact couldn’t be made. Aryn wandered off into the apartment without a word, crossing the smooth white marble with smooth steps but it still came across as nervous.

Nazar enjoyed it though. He loved getting to know every new guest and all their little quirks. Aryn seemed to gravitate towards the windows, the balcony, and the rain beating down. Aryn slouched and didn’t initiate conversations, he didn’t ask questions either and didn’t even seem to mistrust the strange man showing up and claiming to be the landlord. How exceedingly different from Delia but…not quite, not exactly.

“Yes I know, your mother left your name in her will. She was an incredible woman, my apologies for your loss,” he said as he watched the boy stiffen, watched shoulders hunch and spine curve. Even the spill of black hair down his back didn’t hide the way the boy was trying to curl in on himself, to be smaller and somehow end the conversation. Nazar liked it, it was a trained response to attention, he’d seen it plenty of times before, mostly self-taught but not always. He even let himself smile before closing and locking the door behind him.

“You look like her, same face, and Delia liked the rain too,” he added as he sauntered over to the alcohol cabinet and Aryn flinched away from the glass. Clearly the poor darling had mommy issues, mommy never loved him, mommy left him, mommy died and left him millions but he couldn’t touch any of it. He doubted this as about the money, he knew Delia had sent money back to take care of her pet, made sure that her son grew up well taken care of if nothing else.

He knew it was deeper than that, more of what Delia represented than who she was. Maybe she was an ideal, a success story, rags to riches and all the juicy bits in between. Maybe she was just another errant mother, too high on her own life to care about the brat back home and Aryn never got to forget that, not for one single second. Could be all of them, could be none, he’d have fun picking through all the bits and pieces of trauma to find out which.

“She also loved this whisky, it was her favourite. She was my friend and I can’t tell you how many times she invited me over to drink with her,” he explained as he picked out one of the bottles lining the shelves. He’d kept the cabinet and all the drinks pristine, made sure all of them were still as potent as the day Delia had bought them, and she appreciated it still. She’d liked the smoothness, sweet enough to help ignore the burn and easy to get drunk on.

He debated mentioning how she’d been drinking her favourite whisky the night of her death, dancing back and forth this very room as she sloshed it all over hands, down her throat. Would it be too much too soon? Possibly, but it would be a nice little nugget of information to drop on the poor, poor dear later. The poor dear who was so agitated that he was combing through his hair, angled away from the balcony now, angled towards him but still not looking at him.

“I-I don’t drink,” he muttered-no murmured, softer, not as exasperated or frustrated, there was no edge to the words though he knew it was lurking around. More of whatever was lurking just under that pale skin, more of the anger he could just barely taste, more of the frustration like a wisp of smoke after hours of breathing in nothing but flowers. And it could be Marissa, it could be Jack, could be their anger leeching down through the floors, could be feeding this new guest of his but he didn’t think it was that simple. Such a complex boy.

“For me? I’ve missed drinking with Delia, I…I was the one who found her,” he admitted, pouring the whisky into the glasses she’d left in the cabinet and bringing them over to her kitchen. He’d always enjoyed the openness of her apartment, so easy to see everything going on, even though he preferred closed off spaces.

Aryn still wasn’t looking at him but he was moving away from the balcony, more hesitantly than he’d gone but coming close all the same. Nazar knew why, there was just something inherently off about him, something strange about his light brown eyes, something different about his creeping smiles. Desideria had known from the start, had dragged him over a table into a kiss much softer than her viciousness would bely then begged him to fuck her; he liked her.

He wondered how long it would take Aryn, longer than his mother, less? Delia had known in a month, a whole month of crying and screaming and trying to lie to herself before she gave in and accepted it. What a lovely month that had been, a replacement for Taylor years before he needed one, it’d been great, and now he finally had Delia’s replacement. Here in front of him, reaching for a glass of whisky with trembling fingers and eyes focused on the innocuous glass.

“We had a lunch date planned and she didn’t show up, or call to cancel, I got worried. I couldn’t have guessed what I’d find though, I thought she was just passed out on the couch again, she did that a lot,” he rambled, swirling the alcohol in his glass and casting the webs of his lies. He’d known, how couldn’t he? Delia’s contract had come to an end, her eighteen years of freedom and debauchery and Sin had come to an end and he’d been there to collect his dues.

The song had been unexpected but it was Deali through and through, she was a diva, she needed everything to be dramatic even if she didn’t quite understand what was going on. He didn’t think she’d even realized what was specially about the night, probably hadn’t even caught on til the very end. Of course he could ask but he preferred to leave some of life’s little mysteries unsolved.

“She was wearing her favourite dress, a golden one, and her make-up was all done up. I guess she’d been planning it for a while, I didn’t even realise,” he trailed off pensively and drank the whisky. Not his favourite but he so rarely got his favourite these days, maybe he would now but he doubted it would be too soon. Aryn copied him at least, still refusing to sit and preferring to stand as though being able to run at a second’s notice would help him. Still, it was easier to just refill the glass, adding a touch more than before and fighting a smile when grey eyes started flickering around the room.

“The whole building was so shocked, we’d never had a suicide here before, and everyone loved Delia.” Maybe not the exact truth but close enough, they didn’t have any suicides at Pluvia Gardens and sure everyone had loved Delia in the way all his Sinners ‘loved’ each other. They’d all been at her funeral, all been somber and sober as she was lowered into the hole and then they’d all went back home and drank until they were numb in her memory. The truest love.

“I didn’t know her, m-much, she never…I don’t remember her,” Aryn said instead because Nazar could hear the redirection. He would almost be impressed if the quiver wasn’t under the words, if every syllable didn’t sound as though it’d been dragged out of the boy’s throat. Oh it was shocking, he wouldn’t have guessed Aryn could speak so many words at a time but at the same time, it was still disappointing.

‘She was never’ what? Around? A real mother? Someone I loved or cared about? There was the resentment, the delicious smoky resentment but it was being quashed down by the sugar sweetness. He wanted to breathe the flames in, he wanted to feel them burning smoother than any alcohol on the way down but that was maybe asking too much too fast. He could smell the smoke and that was enough for now, enough until he could get a decent few embers kindled.

“Hmm, she was an incredible woman, very driven. She liked to have fun though, she was always partying between her shows and tours,” he hummed, pouring a third glass of whisky for Aryn and sloshing more than half of it on the table but oh well, sacrifices had to be made. Made and kept.

“Once, she went out on that balcony during the pouring rain and screamed until she couldn’t anymore then she came back in and fucked her plaything of the month,” he laughed and it wasn’t even a lie. Delia had been one dramatic, crazy bitch, she loved soft boys younger than her, she liked dressing them up and having them model for her. She liked girls too but decidedly not soft, she liked women who could rough her up, women who would fuck her just as hard as she wanted and harder.

“I think his name was Aaron, very pretty, liked to wear thigh highs and her lipstick,” he continued and he could see the tremor go through Aryn, knew how much he didn’t want to hear this. He drank the rest of his whisky, probably thinking it would help, or get him drunk enough to not hear about his mother and all her preferences. Nazar didn’t even bother filling the glass again, he just pushed the bottle across the table until it was close enough for Aryn to snatch it up.

Delia’s been dead two years but here and now Nazar sees her again. In Aryn, in the way he grabbed the neck of the bottle with slim fingers, in the way his eyes were unfocused as he lifted it to his mouth. Yes the hair falling in his face wasn’t golden, yes the bob of the throat was more pronounced, yes his eyes were clear silver but this was still Delia. Still her drowning her problems and troubles and realities in whisky, still Delia making deals and promises she didn’t know how to keep. He almost missed her.

“I think he had a break down when she broke it off, he was outside her door, beating his hands bloody against it and crying and begging her to take him back. Security had to drag him out, kicking and screaming of course, Delia loved it.”

Aryn didn’t even bother to hide the grimace, mouth turned down at the corners and a twitch around his eyes that could be a flinch. He didn’t bother to hide the way he was folding in on himself again, he didn’t bother to even pretend he was looking over a shoulder or at a throat, he just plain looked away. Nazar drank the rest of his whisky slowly, savouring the taste of it and comparing it to the smoke in his mouth, almost thick enough to coat his tongue, almost strong enough to smell.

“She was an addictive person, easy to love and keep loving, hard to give up and harder to keep,” he mused and there it was. The full body flinch, flinching away from a blow or words, familiar words? Regardless, the flinch sets the boy in motion, takes him across the room on stiff legs, back stiff, one hand tight around the neck of the bottle and the other tangling in ink black hair almost absentmindedly.

Nazar watched again for a while; the spill of black hair was different from Delia’s, straighter and showed silver where the light fell on it. Delia was the golden girl, the beloved golden girl and she’d given birth to a silver child, a lovely piece of silver pounded into shape under a rough blacksmith’s hammer. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on that silver, to shape it the way it deserved to be, to carve all kinds of delicate phrases into it and make it worthless.

Aryn had a lovely pair of legs though, just as long as his mother’s in slim black tights and they were roughly the same size, roughly the same shape. Hmm, wouldn’t it be something to see Aryn decked out in his mother’s favourite dresses, in shimmering gold and clinging black and lacy white and bold reds. Watching him fold himself onto the couch, slipping his feet out of his rough boots, curling up with his legs underneath him and the bottle clutched just as tight as his hair it wasn’t hard to imagine. Delicate was the word that came to mind.

“Do you want to know how I found her? I’ll never forget it,” Nazar purred, getting out of his chair but taking it with him. He’d had the wooden floors ripped up, replaced them with pristine white marble, he’d taken down Delia’s paintings and put up different ones. He’d changed subtle things in preparation for his newest tenant and at the time he hadn’t thought it would take this long to get them but it was fine now. It was alright and fine and perfect.

The chair didn’t scrape on the marble, it glided smoothly and stayed where he set it. The chandelier hadn’t been turned on in two years but it had been kept in perfect, meticulous working order. Nazar didn’t even bother to walk over to the switch, he just snapped his fingers and let Aryn think what he pleased when the crystals lit up.

Two years since the last time the chandelier had gotten to dance, to throw it’s light on the cream coloured walls and the white floors, two year since the scene of partiers got to dance. Now though, now it was like nothing had happened or changed, the shadows fell the same, the chandelier turned the same. Everything was the same except for Aryn on the couch, wide eyed and tugging at his hair more than hard enough to hurt.

Nazar loved the softly parted lips, the premature words they curved and sighed around. He loved the desperation in quicksilver eyes, the questions and confusion and horror or was it fear? He loved the tense set of slim shoulders, the steel straight posture and the vein jumping in a pale throat.

He didn’t have to look up to know what Aryn saw, he could feel the shade brushing against him.

“Now and in the hour of my death, it was a favourite line of hers,” he murmured as he climbed onto the chair and turned to face the shade. Delia’s shade.

“I found her just like this, hanging here, twirling with her chandelier. She never looked more beautiful or more peaceful,” he said as the shade blinked at him, mouth working words it could never speak. Shades in his building were near substantial, better than they would get anywhere else but they were still shades. Delia’s was no different, a pale, translucent copy of the vibrant woman she’d been, no less beautiful though.

“She was drunk, as always, she’d broken a glass on the floor, just like that,” he punctuated his little speech by flinging his empty glass on the floor, in the corner, right next to the grandfather clock that happily chimed the half hour.

“And she hung herself with a silk scarf, specially made for a movie that she got attached to, it looked exquisite wrapped around her neck,” he sighed as he grabbed the shade’s face, just barely feeling the warm of it but holding it all the same. He knew Aryn couldn’t see the metallic golden lipstick or the wide blue eyes, probably couldn’t see anything but the outline of his mother hanging by her own scarf but it was enough.

“Speak to him pretty,” Nazar whispered and the shade blinked, swallowed and choked on it but in a delicate, lovely way. There weren’t any bruises around her neck, no bulging eyes, no black tongue or blue tinged skin; she looked as lovely as the second she slipped off her chair.

“Hello. Pet.”

The scream was unexpected, Nazar hadn’t thought Aryn was capable of noises that loud or as piercing but it was fun. A nice little tidbit. Aryn’s scream was loud enough to make the shade wince, loud enough to grate on Nazar’s ears but it was the good kind of grating. He didn’t even bother looking back over his shoulder at the boy, a lone shriek was nice but he wanted something more.

So he kissed the shade.

They were always so insubstantial first thing in the day, always sluggish and weak but Delia kissed back the way she always did. She was a good girl for him, she moved her lips and grabbed at his clothes with shaking hands, ghostly fingers dragging along his hips before they fell away. Nazar didn’t bother to put much effort into it, he kept it lazy and soft, made it a show for a single person and breathed in the thickening smoke.

“Isn’t she pretty? But not as pretty as you, Pet,” he said, letting his lips pop on the ‘p’ and whipping around with a sharp smirk. Delia’s shade sighed some nonsense behind him but she wasn’t the important one anymore, she wasn’t special anymore, oh no, he wanted to see her son. He wanted to see Aryn spread out on the couch, hair a frazzled mess from fingers running through it, hair a mess tangled around slim fingers. He wanted to see Aryn with wide unfocused eyes and perfectly shaped nails scratching at his forearms; not frantically, not manically, but methodic, up and down, up and down.

Nazar took in the short, sharp breaths as they made the boy’s chest rise and fall, took in the quivering lips and expressionless face and jumped down from the chair. Delia kept twirling behind him and Aryn kept looking past the room, probably retreating somewhere into himself, maybe trying to rationalize seeing his mother for the first time in years and it wasn’t even her. Around them the shadows kept dancing, round and round in their eternal party.

Aryn didn’t even flinch when Nazar dropped onto the couch next to him, didn’t blink as he was dragged into this strange man’s lap. He barely even reacted as Nazar untangled the hair from his fingers and just whimpered quietly when his nails were forced away from his arms. He didn’t react a tall when Nazar rested a hand on either thigh, stroking up and down slow and sweet, or when he dropped his chin on a thin shoulder.

“She used to talk about you, you know? She called you, The Pet Back Home, and she’d laugh about it,” he whispered, kissing the spot just behind Aryn’s ear softly, gently. There wasn’t even a change in breathing, nothing to show he was even listening but that was fine, Nazar didn’t need any physical cues. He could smell the simmering smoke, clearer yes but still just short of a scent memory and nearly drowned out by musky arousal.

“I knew you had to be lovely, her child couldn’t be anything but stunning, but I didn’t expect you to be better than her, Pet,” he crooned, slowly spreading those slim legs until they rested on either side of his thighs. He didn’t change his touch though, didn’t speed up, didn’t move his hands and didn’t leave anymore kisses though he loved the feeling of the smooth skin under his lips.

“I can’t wait to play with you, there’s so much I can’t wait to do with you, to you,” he hummed with a happy sigh.

“I can’t wait to train my Pet,” he cooed, glancing up at Delia then closing his eyes and pressing his face to soft black hair. He breathed in deep all the smells of his apartment; lust and arousal and metallic anger and damp loathing even desperate cloying loneliness. He breathed in deeper and smelled nothing but the sweet, cleansing rain beating down and washing away all the Sins of the world.