#i love the overseer kiss its just like a cute concept

[kelocitta]

Day 30: Overseer See anything interesting?

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 03  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00  01 02

⇢ Word Count : 4.2k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Being  a model isn’t as always what people view it as. It’s not all just fun and prancing around in clothing that’s either revealing or not. It’s about business and fun but you mustn’t mix pleasure in. Every model knows that. But you, you took advantage of that. You decided you wanted to know what would happen if you had did that. And that is how everything went wrong.

You had actually met Jimin through Jungkook. But, BigHit staff did a casting call for one of their music videos. You had gotten chosen and while at the shoot Namjoon had sparked in interest for you. He spoke fluent english that glided of his tongue ever so breathlessly. But his adorable, cheeky dimple smile had put the icing on the cake for you. You two had been friends ever since.

They needed two girls, the protagonist and the antagonist. You were the protagonist while another was the antagonist but the role did fit you well. You aren’t the type to cause trouble and when your manager explained the script and concept to you, she thought it was a perfect match to your real life personality.

You and Jimin had hit it off right then and there. You loved his smile, his way of talking, and his cute little English phrases he would slip in then and there to you on set. It was the most adorable thing ever. He was a smooth talker too. Then Bam! You didn’t know what had gotten into him. Well.. the acting was for the concept music video, but you’ve never seen someone go from adorable to to a dominant personality so quickly. The entire switch up from the persona had fooled you good. Way.. too good.

That was how it hit you. You knew that he had to be yours.

But then yours.. became shared.

Then sharing became permanent.

Now you are single and heartbroken.

“ Long time no see! How have you been?”

You smile and take in his huge bear hug. He smelled so divine. Namjoon has always carried himself like a mature man, but in the inside you knew he’s a child at heart.

‘‘ Im fine. How are you? I’ve been on a little hiatus.” You nervously chuckle, assuming he already knows why. Namjoon nods his head and guides you further into the set.

It’s the inside of an apartment. They’ve set it up so pretty for it to seem like it’s a  real apartment. The LED lights are beaming but not enough for it to be too bright. Just perfect. You take a glance at all around the set you would be soon using.

The bed is a modern day king size in the colour schemes of black, white and grey along with a matching dresser and nightstands. White Jasmine flowers, sit on top of the nightstand along with the book milk and honey sitting next to it.

‘‘ I seen your pictures when they had dropped yesterday.” He pauses, glancing up at you to see your reaction. The way your breath hitches for a moment humored him. “ You looked very good. You did a great job. Welcome back to the business!”

Only if the business was so welcoming at all. Pictures of you had been posted on all your platforms and the comments came rushing in. Some good, but majority bad, only because the people of the world thought your comeback was revenge for Jimin’s comeback. Turns out, he had a comeback three days before you. You didn’t know, because you don’t keep up with him anymore. His fanbase was actually the ones commenting to the bad comments to leave you alone and that you moved on.

If only you made it that far to move on. 

Namjoon leads you to the hair and makeup station that’s been set up for the both of you. Each of you greet them and take a seat in the two black director’s chair with your name on it. As you sat in your chair you let the stylists and make-up artist do your thing while you read the concept script of the music video.

It’s going to be Namjoon rapping about his first love and how she broke his heart repeatedly. The hazy white flashbacks are of you and him symbolizing a couple doing things of what he had did with her.

“ So you and um.. Jimin did you guys sort things out yet?’’

You lift your head from the script instantly biting your lip. You most definitely don’t want to be reminded of him at the moment.

“ No. I like the way things are now. We shouldn’t see each other anymore.’’ You roll your eyes and look back down at the white sheets of stapled paper that holds your acting skills.

“ Im sorry if I offended. I didn’t mean to it’s just that. It’s been a year and a couple of months since-’’

He means no harm at all, and you know that because its Kim Namjoon you’re talking to. This right now though, isn’t a conversation to be held right before rhe video-shoot. You shake your head letting him know not to continue on. The last thing you want is for the makeup and hairstylists gossiping. Also for your emotions to spiral all the way down again.

The hair, makeup, and clothing stylists does a very good job on you. The make up stylists did a sort of natural look to your face which made your skin look light and dewy. The natural makeup complements the oversize, long t-shirt that is supposed to symbolize Namjoon’s.

The first scene you are going to shoot is the bed scene where you will be straddling a sleepy Namjoon’s lap wearing nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear underneath. Which really isn’t your underwear but just some black shorts that you put underneath the shirt.

You spot Namjoon and the director conversing so you decide to make your way over to the bed by them. As you walk over, his manager glances and goes back to talking. You pay no mind to it but then, he does a double take with his eyes wide looking at your outfit and beauty. You cant lie, you do feel a little more confident than usual with this bedroom look. 

‘‘ My goodness she looks stunning!’‘ His manager smiles, holding his hand out to greet you. You take his hand and do a courtesy greet due to the fact he’s older than you.

Namjoon eyes you up and down, smiling showing his deep dimples and pearly whites. Since when is he all flirty? Where is all this coming from? What’s getting into him?

‘‘ Yes she does. Are you ready?’‘

You nod your head, glancing at the properly messy bed. The director gives you guys one last look before heading over to his place right next to the cameras. Namjoon grasps your wrists as you both make your way to the bed, letting your ears listen to the instructions.

Namjoon gets into the bed first and then motions for you to sit on his waist. You bite your lip subtlety with your eyes not leaving his as you climb carefully over onto his lap. Your core almost inches away from him member, you don’t mean to brush a little too hard against him like that. The way he hisses and stifles his groan makes you feel apologetic.

Oh Namjoon, what is going on with you?

‘‘ I need you to try waking him up with little kisses on his cheek then down his chest.’’

Glancing down at his bare chest, you almost gasp at the muscles he has. Your mind completely had ignored it when you two were chatting with the director.  Namjoon isn’t the kind to work out as much but he definitely prepared for this music video.

You nod your head just before Namjoon closes his eyes to fake his slumber. Leaning down after the director gave you two the green light, you smell his cologne which smells pretty good to say the least. The butterflies in your stomach flutter like no other when you start to leave butterfly kisses on his cheeks, making sure to kiss his dimples then trailing over to his neck.. then chest.

‘‘ Namjoon wake up smiling… right about now.’‘

His eyes flutter open with a smile landing onto yours which makes you smile right back at him.

‘‘ Interlock your hands and hold them up high.’‘

Both of you smile ear to ear and giggle at the awkwardness almost nearly as a real couple except you guys aren’t, and this isn’t real.

It was easy for you to act like you were in love with Namjoon due to the friendship you have with him. Ever since the boys were together in a group, you had connected easily with Namjoon. He has this friendly yet funny aura about him. He’s the sweetest guy you ever met, just before Hoseok. Namjoon was the one who made you feel welcomed and comfortable upon meeting the members for the first time, while you had dated Jimin. 

His eyes roam over your body intimidated by the lack of proper clothing you have on. Soon his hands take over and start to roam your body from shoulders to waist. Namjoon often bit his lip as if was thinking of saying something, but doesn’t.  At this point you didn’t know if the acting was real or not.

A day’s worth of shooting and this was it. You’ve moved locations just for this scene which is supposed to be in the middle of a vacant two way road surrounded by nothing but dust and a few trees. The last major scene. You had seen Namjoon rap his part repeatedly in different sets for him that did not include you. The dark clothing and light colored hair suited him just right.

The closing scene is the one left and ironically, it’s the make-out scene.

To your left, someone had started a bonfire to keep the staff warm as they converse about the scene and read through the scripts. You huff lightly as you get out of the chair instantly regretting it as the cold air hits your nearly exposed legs.

They’ve dressed you into a maroon skirt and a grey knit sweater that is fairly itchy paired with a knit infinity scarf. Your hair was let down to compliment your face.

‘‘ Yn!’’

You turn your head immediately over towards the direction of that voice. To your luck it’s Jungkook holding a big brown bag and two canisters of god knows what. But who trails after him makes your smile drop.

Jungkook smiles jogging towards you, almost slipping from being excited too see you. You open your arms fully to embrace his figure in which in return he provides.

“ Are you still mad at me?’’

You inhale the scent of him with a smile making sure to make eye contact with the one standing further away from him, “ No Jungkook.”

He lets go of your intertwined bodies and gives you one of his bunny smiles making you giggle at his excitement. “ I bought Namjoon and you some hot chocolate and plenty of rice-cake dumpling soup since you are working hard.”

‘‘ Thank you we will eat after this last scene okay?”

The cameras and lights are beaming down on you and Namjoon. It’s all or nothing at this point. The camera crew and director murmur a bit just before calling out that word. Action.

Namjoon looks slightly down at you with his glossy eyes. You challenge him back while not saying a word at all.

“ Are you comfortable with this?” He whispers. No, truth is you aren’t and have no desire in kissing him. To you, you feel like the kiss would make things a bit awkward for the both of you.

He’d been subtly flirting all day with you and of course you pick up on it everytime. It’s not like yourself to do such things with people you don’t have feelings for in a romantic way. Let alone, flirt with your ex’s band brother.

“ Yes.” It’s not like you have a choice to say no to it. You signed the contract, so you have to complete the entire scenes. Just your luck, Namjoon’s song begins to play in the background.

 He leans in for a kiss with your face inches apart from each other. So close that you can feel his eyelashes brush against yours. He’s stalling you, making you try to be the one to start the kiss. A small smirk on his face when you oblige taking him into the kiss. Your lips move in sync with his with his hand on your face caressing your cheek. He thinks your lips taste like strawberry chapstick, but you think his tastes like mint. 

Soon his tongue slips into your mouth to deepen the kiss. You can’t help but to let out a small whimper on accident resulting in Namjoon’s hand traveling to your waist and pushing you closer to him gently.  Excitment takes over you, you haven’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe it’s the lack of dating or all the couple like things you did today, but you feel loved.

And cut! That’s a wrap everyone, please pack and get home safely.

You break away from Namjoon’s lips and chuckle at the sight of him with his eyes still closed and waiting for something to happen again.

“ Joonie we are done shooting.”

Namjoon’s eyes pop open with a smile, cheeks turning coloured from embarrassment. “ Ah really? Im sorry it’s just that i was too into the moment.”

The both of you thank all the staff for their hard work of day. While bowing to another staff, you make sure to look directly in the eyes of the friend that tailed along with Jungkook. Just as expected he looked pissed off. The sight of him biting the inside of his jaw gave you satisfaction. He fucking deserves it.

“ Can we all eat now? I brought thermal blankets and the bonfire the staff lit is still going..’’ Jungkook says, sitting onto one of the logs and placing the bag onto the ground.

“ We need to speak first.”  You say, firmness taking over your tone. You aren’t going to let this slide. Why would he bring him here? After all that happened that night, you’re sure he told Jungkook. 

He sighs and motions for Namjoon to start serving while he’s going to be gone. Namjoon gently smiles and approves just before going to sit next to Jungkook’s friend and starting a conversation.

The two of you, Jungkook and you, start walking away from the small gathering slowly. The moon shines bright down upon the both of you creating black silhouettes from behind.

‘’ I didn’t invite him. You know I wouldn’t do that after that whole situation-’’

You purse your lips and stop walking, “ So he just magically came? I didn’t tell him and I doubt that Namjoon told him.’’

‘‘ He found out Namjoon was having his video shoot and came to support him. He came late due to Isab-”

You shake your head, “ Don’t say anymore. Let’s just go back and not bring anything up. I don’t feel like speaking to him or causing drama Jungkook.”

Jungkook can tell that you’re disappointed but does not say a word all the way back. You keep eye contact away from Jimin as you sit next to Jungkook. The atmosphere is awkward for you but you know it isn’t for them.

You munch on a rice-cake dumpling not making a sound as the three boys talk amongst themselves.

You take this time to think. Why would Jimin come here if he possibly knew that you were the main girl? He just set himself up to be mad at this point. Why didn’t Isabel stop him from going, after all you are his ex.

“ Why aren’t you eating?’‘

You look towards that soft voice, plopping your dumpling down into your bowl of soup. The truth is, you actually aren’t supposed to be eating this at all. Seeing as though your modeling and appearance schedule is getting full you have to maintain a healthy figure once again.

‘’ I guess im not as hungry. I’ll make sure to take it with me if I don’t finish.’’

‘‘ Eat.’‘ Jimin says, not lifting his head up but voice firm.

You roll your eyes out of annoyance, “ Im not hungry Jimin.’’ You were, but you say it just to piss him off even more.

His chopsticks drop his dumpling into his bowl as he raises his head slowly. Anger is written all over his face but you over-power it by keeping a straight face. Part of you is mad that you said that but it’s the truth.

‘‘ Oppa. Im Oppa to you.” His eyes meet yours. You can’t help but notice that his are darker than average. You hated calling him that and he knows it. It’s cringey to you, but respectful in their culture.

He didn’t use to make you say it even while in a relationship, so you know he’s playing along with your little game.

Namjoon rubs the back of his head,‘‘ Hey guys let just eat okay? Yn you should eat more.’‘

‘‘ Rather not. My appetite is no longer here.”  You shrug as you place the lid onto the container of your food.

Jimin rolls his tongue in the inside of his cheek while keeping a death glare on you. You don’t bother to pay it any mind at all. Jungkook lets out a breathy sigh as you gather your belongings to leave.

‘‘ Im taking my leave.’‘

You give Namjoon a hug first then walk over to Jungkook who hugs you really tight. You smile and give a peck onto his cheek.

‘‘ Text me tonight.’ He whispers into your left ear before letting his grip go. You nod your head and glance at an angry Jimin.

“ I’ll take her home.”

That sentence makes you stop dead in your tracks. What the hell does he think he’s doing? 

“ I can get a taxi..”

Jimin finishes his food and throws it into the paper brown bag. Namjoon and Jungkook stare at him in disbelief. The veins on his neck are very noticeable as he makes his way over to you.

You watch in disbelief but angry with your eyebrows furrowed because they all seem to not be listening to you. “ I said I can get a tax-”

“ Yn just go with him. I will feel safer if you went with somebody you know.” Jungkook sighs, throwing him and Namjoon’s remaining trash into the bag.

“ Me and Jungkook have a lot of catching up to do. We’ll be at my house.” Namjoon catches onto Jungkook’s memo.

You roll your eyes as Jimin grabs your arm rougher than expected, dragging you along the vacant two way street to his parked Lamborghini.

You jerk away from him not wanting to be in his grip anymore. Jimin doesn’t say anything as he opens the car door for you. You stand there with your arms crossed refusing to go.

“ Yn you have until the count of three because honestly you are pissing me off. “

Your eyes land onto his with your eyebrows still furrowed in anger.

“ 1.”

You scoff at him. What are you a toddler?

“ 2.”

Yeah right. What could hap-

“ 3 ” Jimin grabs your arm tightly making sure to leave it red as he pushes you into the passengers seat. His cheeks turn a deep shade of red. slamming the car door behind you.

He doesn’t bother to put his seat-belt on before pulling off with Namjoon and Jungkook following behind him. You wince at the throbbing pain where he had marked you red. The soreness is already settling it’s way in.

“ Look..” He sighs, “I didn’t mean to.”

Tears fill the brim of your eyes. This isn’t the same Jimin you knew. He would never even think of hurting you like that.

“ Shut up just take me home.” Your voice cracks, tears slipping down your cheek as you try and massage the pain away.

You don’t say a word to him all the way there to your apartment building. The air is as thick as a slice of home-made cake yet neither of you decide to speak. That is until he decides to follow you out the car and up to your apartment, most likely to make sure you are safe getting in. You stop at the welcome mat that holds your home just beyond the door.

“ Jimin. Leave.” You whisper, audible enough for him to hear.

“ I don’t want to.”

“ I know you’re sorry. Just leave.”

You punch in your code, the date that you and him started dating.  You open it enough for just your body to slip in but that doesn’t work. Jimin pushes the door open wide, letting himself in right behind you.

You don’t say anything at all. You remove your shoes as well as he does to. Clara greets you by rubbing her body against you. You don’t bother to pet her you walk past her and into the kitchen.

Pulling out your phone, you text Jungkook letting him know you got home safely. He immediately responds with a selfie of him and Namjoon with Soju in their hands. You can’t even laugh at the two silly boys.

A harsh cold object is placed on your right arm. You quickly look down to see Jimin’s hand holding an ice-pack against the area he harmed.

“ You didn’t tell me you would be the lead girl in Namjoon’s video.”

‘‘ We aren’t together anymore. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

That’s the truth. You two shouldn’t even be in the same apartment, let alone yours, right about now. His business isn’t yours anymore. Yours isn’t his anymore.

Jimin scoffs, “ You know I will always look out for you and look after you. I’ll be there anytime for you.”

‘‘ I feel as though that’s inappropriate. You have a girlfriend don’t cheat on her like you did me.” You remove his hand and hop onto the white counter-top.

“ How many times are you going to say it huh? I was wrong I know that. But why remind me of it?”

You look him dead straight into the eyes, “ Until you suffer for a year and some months don’t say shit to me.’’

There was a silence for a couple of minutes. Your eyes wander around your fairly neat apartment until he says something again.

Jimin sighs, coming in-between your legs placing his head on your lap. ‘‘ I don’t like this.. us.”

“ Clearly you didn’t because you cheated.” You snap back, pushing his head away from you only for him to go right back. “ That’s not what I mean and you know that.” His voice is soft, just barely above a whisper.

So what does he mean?

‘‘ Im saying that.. I don’t like you being this way and distant from me. I don’t like when you kiss other people. I didn’t like when you had to make-out with Namjoon. I don’t like not being able to talk with you. I don’t like all this anger and tension between us.”

Your mind is telling you this is a red flag but your heart aches for him to go on and say what you want him to say. Could this really be it?

“ The truth is, I do miss you. I miss us. I miss everything about us. I fucked up bad and I have to pay the consequences.” His hands snake around your waist tightly. 

This is it. Finally.

You bite your lip and run your fingers through his hair softly. Small sobs can be heard from him and the wetness of your leg lets you know he finally broke down.

‘‘ Jimin stop that. Don’t cry.’‘

He shakes his head, ‘’ You don’t understand. She’s not like you but I like her. My heart is with you but my mind is with her. I don’t know what to do.’’

“ You can’t love two people at once. You know that. I refuse to get hurt again by you.” You keep your voice low making sure not to get angry with him. His head lifts up showing you his red face and puffy eyes.

You can’t help but to want to kiss the tears away. So thats what you do. You kiss all over his cheeks slowly one at a time. Yes you don’t want to get hurt again, but you want him to realize that what he did is still taking a toll on you all the while you crave him and his love more and more.

‘‘ Yn..” He whimpers, sniffling.

You shake your head to hush him up and move on to his lips. His sweet, soft lips connect with yours. He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Both of your tongues fight for dominance making you hold your breath to stifle your groan. This is wrong. He has a girlfriend. You kissing him would make you a hypocrite, so you break away the kiss though you don’t want to.

You sigh, lifting his head up again. Those brown eyes stare back up at you full of tears and sadness. Yet you can’t be fooled by your own mind. “ Jimin go back to Isabel. She’s probably waiting for you.”

You take his arm and lead him towards the door. He slips his shoes on without taking his eyes off of you. It hurt. It hurts a lot seeing him leave out the door each time he comes over. But you still need to face the fact that this isn’t your man anymore, he’s someone elses.

“ What if I don’t want to go back.”

You unlock the door for him and hold it open. ‘’ You can’t love two people at once.’’

“ Baby, just one last time..’’ He says, referring to the kiss you’ve shared earlier.

You shake your head no. Another kiss would surely lead to something more of a messy situation. “ When you make up your mind, you know my apartment well enough.”

And with that you shut the door behind him as your back slides down the door. You bring your hands to your hair and slip them in.

Maybe, just maybe, there could be a one last time with him.

[lexosaurus]

Happy

A fic for dp side hoes week 2021!

Character: Sam Theme: Happiness

This fic was made especially with my good friend @ghostgothgeek in mind. Happy birthday, Steph! Thank you so much for everything you've done for me from helping me get into grad school, to helping me with my DST homework at 2am. You're such an amazing friend and I am SO so lucky to have you in my life. Love ya! Have a good one!

---

There was a lot that made Sam happy.

Rainy days where she could curl up with a good book, her weekly slam poetry meetup group, horror movies, that one hole in the wall coffee joint run by a woman who reminded Sam of her grandmother. Sam had so many little moments in her week that made her happy.

She knew some people—especially her mom—would be surprised by this. After all, Sam was the gloomy goth. The “dark and mysterious” teenage girl. The one who was constantly at rallies fighting for animals rights or renewable energy plans from the government. She knew how she came off, she wasn’t stupid.

But at the end of the day, she was still a teenager. And even with all that was wrong with the world, there was still so much that was right.

Like right now, sitting here with Danny. Well...sitting might have been too strong of a word. She was sitting, that much was accurate, but Danny had long since fallen asleep, having given up on math after an hour of struggling. Sam was going to wake him, but he just looked so peaceful, with his black hair brushing down on his face, his hand resting under his cheek.

So cute. 

She wasn’t exactly sure when their relationship had taken a turn from “just friends” to something more. If she had to pinpoint it, it might have been soon after the “fake out make out” session. Sure, she’d had feelings for him before, but that day just changed something between them. Something that neither of them could explain, neither could admit, but she knew that both of them felt.

It didn’t take too long after then for the study sessions to start. Just the two of them, alone, in one of their rooms, pouring over notes as Danny desperately tried to salvage his GPA. More than once, Sam had caught him sneaking glancing over to her when he thought she was utterly focused on her assignments. But Sam never said anything.

After all, she had been sneaking glances over at him too.

Eventually, it reached a point where Tucker called them lovebirds—as he always teased—but instead of the defensive, “We’re not lovebirds!” exclamation they reflexively shouted, Sam and Danny just blushed and looked away.

Sam would never forget the light of recognition in Tucker’s eyes, followed by a cheshire grin trained pointedly at Sam. If she hadn’t been so tomato-faced in the moment, she might have kicked his shin.

After that, the atmosphere around their study sessions changed. There was a new tension in the air that both of them could feel, but neither would acknowledge. 

Sam knew that in the end, she would have to be the one to make the first move. Danny was...well, he was Danny. He was an insecure, teenage boy. Sam could put up a neon sign shouting, “I LIKE YOU” above her head, and Danny would still doubt her.

But, as forward and outgoing as Sam was, she was still...Sam. The passionate, vegan goth of the grade. She wasn’t popular, she wasn’t surrounded by loads of other girls all the time. She wasn’t invited to the parties, girls didn’t come up to her to talk about their weekends or their crushes or anything else that could be interpreted as a budding friendship.

Danny and Tucker were her only friends. If Sam pursued Danny, and things didn’t end well, then she would have no one.

It was too much of a risk.

So Sam held off.

Anytime they were studying, and she saw Danny glancing her way, Sam wouldn’t meet his gaze. If it was movie night, Sam started sitting next to Tucker instead of Danny. After a big ghost fight, when Danny looked to her with adrenalin-filled, electric green eyes, Sam would walk away.

It hurt—it hurt so bad—but she couldn’t risk ruining their friendship. As much as she prided herself on her independence, she still was just a teen girl. 

She wanted to be liked. She wanted friends. 

But the crush wasn’t going away, the energy between them refused to dissipate. If anything, it was more obvious than before.

It was Sam’s mother of all people who finally, at one awkwardly silent dinner table conversation, was the one to talk some sense into Sam.

“So...you and that Fenton boy,” Pam had said, stirring her fork around her plate. “When were you going to tell me about that?”

Sam felt the blood drain from her face. She tried to play it off. “What do you mean?”

“Sammykins, I may be an adult now, but I was a teenage girl once. I’m not stupid. I may not...approve of that boy and his family. But seeing as you two are obviously an item now, and I want to support you as my daughter, I would expect you to invite him over to dinner to formally meet me and your father please.”

“We’re not—”

“Don’t be silly!” Grandma Ida piped up from across the table. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. You kids aren’t the sly foxes you think you are!”

There was a certain level of embarrassment at being called out by parents that Sam presumed came in the territory of being a teenager. But after the initial shock wore off, she realized something crucial:

Sam really really liked Danny Fenton.

Perhaps more than she thought she did.

So it was during another study session that it finally happened. The awkward energy was palpable, and she knew that Danny felt it too. Even if he would never say anything.

But when Danny glanced up at Sam, Sam finally looked back.

She saw the slight flush enter his cheeks as his eyes started to dart back down at his paper. But before he could retreat back in his metaphorical shell too much, Sam blurted out, “I like you.”

The pink dusting on his cheeks had spread across his face. His eyebrows shot up, and his mouth hung open like a fish. “I—uh—I think—what?”

She put her pencil down and hid her shaking hands inside the sleeves of her oversized black hoodie. “I like you. A lot.”

“Oh. I...”

Their eyes were locked, violet against blue. Sam wanted to look away, but she was never one to back down from a challenge.

“Oh.” Danny blinked, a grin slowly spreading across his lips. “I like you. Too, I mean. I like you too.”

Sam blinked. Once, then twice. But whatever she was waiting for—the “psych!” that her insecurities were sure he would say—never came. Relief spread across her body, followed by something else. Something warm, something bright.

Something like joy.

She didn’t think about anything after. She just leaned in and kissed him, allowing her body to take over. Danny reciprocated, his lips soft and gentle, as if he were worried about hurting Sam.

That much about him still hadn’t changed, not even months later. Danny still was gentle, sometimes too gentle. He still was often afraid to grab her hand, or reach out and hug her.

But, slowly, a level of comfort was beginning to settle between the duo, and with that followed confidence. It was small, it was subtle, but Sam could see Danny’s progression over the last few months. Slowly he was starting to lean over and kiss her first, or he would text her first, or he would reach over and take her hand just because. Slowly he was getting there.

And she could see her own progression too. The “what-ifs” that had plagued her life before were slowly diminishing. She was more confident now—not just on the outside, but the inside too.

And she’d even made a friend outside of Danny and Tucker. Mia, a girl who hung just outside of Paulina’s clique, had slowly become an unlikely friend, the two hitting it off after they realized that they listened to the same bands one day in class.

Sam was happy. Even if her dorky half-ghost boyfriend was sleeping instead of doing his homework, which meant Sam now had to wake him up and re-explain all the concepts. Even if sometimes Tucker teased them in that immature way he did, or if she felt at constant odds with the city about its lack of environmental awareness, or if Sam’s parents still made snide comments about the “wacky, lunatic Fenton boy’s parents.”

Sam was happy.

Which is why she leaned over and shook said dorky boyfriend awake. “Wake up, Danny. You’ve slept enough.”

Danny groaned, lazily shoo-ing her hand off his shoulder. “Come on, Sam, don’t be a party pooper.”

“What, gonna leave me to do all this by myself? Not even gonna help me a little?” Sam teased.

“Ugh, fine.” Danny pushed himself upright and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes. 

“My knight in shining armor.” 

Grinning, Danny closed the distance between them, pressing his soft lips onto hers. He was cold to the touch, but Sam thrived in the cold.

She broke the kiss, leaning back ever so slightly to gaze into his icy blue eyes. Up close, she could even see little freckles dotting his skin.

“Cute, but we still have homework,” she said.

Danny rolled his eyes and with a dramatic, “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” grabbed his notebook and pencil off the ground and readied himself for another hour of math.

Even with another treacherous hour of math ahead of them, when Sam looked at her dorky half-ghost boyfriend, his slightly crooked smile, his slightly too long black hair that was styled in such a way that could only be achieved through a high-speed flight, she couldn’t help but feel content.

Happy.

---

Thanks for reading!

[if-mirrormine]

for the MC game: my MC for your game is a short "girl" who wears a lot of oversized stuff in the early 2000s. when they come into modern day and see the discussions of things like being trans and nonbinary and the difference between gender identity vs gender presentation, they feel a lot more comfortable dressing femininely (still loves oversized tho, aint nothing wrong with that) while identifying as nonbinary. it results in a gradual confidence boost and, whereas their loved ones remember my MC as constantly cracking jokes but the sense of humor being very self-deprecating, their sense of humor evolves into being a lot less based on their self (after reading "yo that wont help your mental illness" online) and now they actually, finally, start laughing at their own jokes

they go from this "my resting face is a small smile and im awkward and shy" to being very giggly and still awkward but more outgoing (bc now a baby's got a sense of self-worth and doesnt mind taking up as much as space as they used to). one of those "i like being around you bc your laugh makes me smile and you laugh all the time" kinda people, yknow?? plus, very polite. Alex's parents probably really liked them; they were always on their best behavior and would put down the game controller to offer to help Alex's parents with cleaning the dishes or set the table kinda kid?? sometimes that makes things awkward, because its VISIBLE when those people feel like a bother (esp in someone else's home), but still. manners are nice, yknow?

they were in college to be an animation student and rip them, technology in animation has changed a LOT since the 2000s, we dont even call the program "(Adobe) Flash" for Flash Animation (think Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, that style is called Flash) "Flash" anymore, the program is called "(Adobe) Animate" now smh gotta retake ALL of those tech classes, your drawing fundamentals are good, but the times have changed alas. it kind of sucks bc they were good at studying and actually took notes and would actively practice, just trying to be a good student and now most of their notes are outdated and not relevant to the industry

im trying to think of what else would be fun and helpful. they probably played with people's hands a lot, just bouncing their hand on the palm of someone else's, holding hands and swinging arms, tracing circles with their thumb on the back of your hand-- lots of casual PDA and yet would turn VISIBLY FLUSTERED at any flirtation or kisses anywhere, just fully flushed deer in headlights kinda moment as they bluescreen and process and their skin starts heating up. definitely is the type where the ideal date, always, has been hanging out at Target and Walmart and the like

to be naughty for a second tho (no minors allowed):

:readmore:

definitely the type that was like "am i supposed to be considering giving them road-head rn? bc i will give them road-head rn, or just oral in the parking lot or at home, period, if they are interested" in reaction to their date taking them to a bookstore and proceeding to buy my MC several hardcovers/concept art books post-time-bubble. like. c'mon. that shit's sexy as fuck and my MC is trying to be subtle in their now looking disrespectfully at least

(i hope the Read More attempt worked btw, otherwise this is awkward lmao)

pls your mc's so cute i love them😭😭

im gonna say alex would work well with your mc! bro just trust me they can help guide your mc through the modern world and help them explore their gender identity further. they'd bring out your mc's more playful side and with alex being the extrovert that they are, they'd definitely have a lot of fun together!

[uchihacore]

newton’s third law

PAIRING: keishin ukai x reader SUMMARY: every action has an equal and opposite reaction WARNINGS: nsfw, pegging, blowjobs

You frown at your reflection in the tiny rearview mirror, rubbing at the edge of a purple mark peeking out of your shirt collar. You hadn’t noticed it last night, but then again, you hadn’t really noticed much outside of Keishin calling you ‘Princess’ as he sat you in his lap and pressed a vibrator between your legs. And really, can you fault yourself for that?

Lucky for you (or rather for lucky for Keishin), you always carry a tube concealer in your purse, just for these types of situations. You pull out the tube and dab some concealer onto your tender neck, gently patting away the cream until it blends with the rest of your skin.

“Sorry 'bout that,” Keishin says from the passenger seat. You can see him from the corner of your eye, and he’s grinning like an idiot, which makes sense because he is an idiot.

“No, you aren’t,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. You need to get him out of your car before he makes you late for work, or worse, a student sees you with him. You pack the tube away, pulling out your lipgloss as Keishin shrugs unapologetically.

“Nope, not even a little bit. But really,” he says, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your ear, “can you blame me? Seeing you all marked up, having to hide my hickeys at school, it’s so hot.”

“Nice to know you’re turning into a caveman, Keishin,” you say. And blush because the heater is on and not because of how close he is, the bruise on your neck tingling, “but not everyone gets the luxury of working for our mommy. Some of us have real jobs.”

(Which, admittedly, is a low blow. Especially considering he coaches the boys’ volleyball team for practically nothing, and gives Karasuno students discounts on like half his inventory.) You purse your lips together to rub in the lipgloss, fighting back an apology.

“And yet, here you are,” Keishin notes, seemingly unruffled. “Hiding my artful love-bites under a layer of makeup. Real job and all.”

“Get lost, Keishin,” you say, rolling your eyes. You toss your lipgloss into your makeup bag and turn to him. “I have classes to teach.”

“Of course you do. Have a good day at work, Princess.” he says, and the ballsy bastard actually kisses you before getting out of your car. You give him your best-unimpressed glare, and his smile widens when he turns and sees your expression before heading into the store.

And okay, yeah, maybe you a part of you is blushing and giggling on the inside like some idiot schoolgirl, but only because you’ve been treated like many things in your lifetime, from bitch to queen to child, but no one had ever made you feel like the Keishin does, like an actual, honest to God, princess.

But the other part is trying to figure out when he got so cocky, and how you’d allowed that to happen. Before you can contemplate further, a group of third-year students passes your car, and you put the car back into drive. Suddenly self-aware of how strange you must look mooning after the Sakanoshita Store guy, of all people.

You ponder it on the walk to your classroom, your sex life, or whatever it’s called, with Keishin Ukai is excellent, you’ll be the first to admit. He’s the first man ever to make your voice hoarse from moaning. But the last thing you want is for him to get a big head over it. He’s annoying enough as it is, thanks.

No, you need to get Keishin back down to Earth, somehow. He needs to be taught a lesson, taken down a peg.

And just like that, it hits you. Throwing a glance at your class, who are all too busy with morning pleasantries to notice, you pull out your phone and do a quick google search, you find the article you’re looking for and skim it. You’ll need to do some after-school shopping, but you’ll gladly sacrifice that cute skirt from H&M for this. You put your phone away and neatly write a line of notes about the kinematics on the chalkboard, drawing a smug little smiley face in the corner. Oh, this is going to be fun.

Your next 'meeting’ (because what the fuck else are you supposed to call it?) with Keishin is on Friday, and today is Tuesday. If you stop at the sex shop tonight and get the supplies, you’ll have two nights to figure them out. Which is essential because the last thing you want is to be unskilled in front of Keishin. He’d never shut up about it.

The school day passes by in a blur. You faintly remember scolding Nishinoya for using Tanaka as a springboard and a brief conversation with Hinata about the ‘epic highs and lows of high school volleyball’. Also, the concept of mitochondrial DNA had been clunking around your headspace for most of the day which was odd because you don’t even teach biology. Still, mostly you were just focused on the tantalizing idea of giving Keishin a taste of his own medicine.

You drive to the sex shop two towns over, as opposed to the one just off the highway, partly because it’s cleaner, but mostly because there’s less of a risk of seeing someone you know. You’d hate to have a student catching you buying a strap-on. Oh, the rumors.

The salesperson is a heavily tattooed girl with electric blue hair and a black heart stamped on each freckled cheekbone. She’s really helpful, though. She takes her time explaining just how all the buckles work, and which dildo to buy to fit into which harness, so do your best not to judge her too harshly. She also recommends buying silicone-based lube over water-based lube, because apparently it lasts longer and isn’t harmful in anal sex the way it is in vaginal sex.

So you give her a five-dollar tip for her troubles, to which she responds by giving you the toothiest smile you’ve seen in your entire life and telling you your boyfriend has no idea how lucky he is.

Which you give her another three dollars for because she’s completely right.

(About Keishin not knowing how lucky he is to have you. Not about him being your boyfriend, because he’s fucking not, okay?)

You bring your goodies home, feeling like you always feel after shopping: like you’ve just gotten a load of Christmas presents, and they’re waiting to be unwrapped. You have the presence of mind to hide the black and red bag in your oversized purse before entering your building. Just in case you happen to share the elevator with one of the old ladies on your floor.

Once you get into your apartment, you lock your door and layout your purchases on your dining room table, immediately picking up the dildo to test its weight. You’d picked a sparkly ribbed one, not because you particularly like it, but because you can’t wait to see Keishin’s face when he saw it. You’re pretty sure it’ll end up somewhere between shock, reproach, and begrudging amusement.

It’s the same abrasive yellow as Keishin’s bleached hair, average-sized, chosen more for entertainment value than anything else. You slot it into place then give the shaft an experimental tug to see just how well the metal ring in the harness holds it in place. Satisfied with the result, you examine the nubby, double-pronged vibrator on the opposite end of the harness. It’s supposed to go inside you when everything’s in place, so you get something out of it while you fuck Keishin senseless.

Though you’re reasonably sure that the very act itself of fucking Keishin senseless would have you curling your toes, you’re not about to deny yourself some extra stimulation.

You test the silicone lube between your fingertips. It feels weird, like the silicone-based face primer you’d used in high school, though this was less powdery and more expensive. You test on the skin above your knee, curious to see how long it takes to dry off.

While you wait, you take all of your clothes off, hanging up your blazer and throwing the rest in the hamper. You examine the harness, it’s an intimidating contraption of black nylon and silvery buckles, but that doesn’t deter you. You’re a high school science teacher, thank you very much. You explain physics to teenagers all day. This is nothing compared to that.

And actually, when you fit it onto your hips, it’s not too bad. A strap goes around each thigh, like a bikini, and one loops around your waist. You tighten the straps and peer down at the yellow, glittery penis now hanging heavily at the apex of your thighs. Huh. So this is what penises are like?

You grip the base and stroke up, grimacing at the sensation of your hand skidding over the rubber. Oh. Lube. Right. You squeeze some lube onto the dildo and start stroking again, much smoother this time. You hate how good the angle is; no wonder guys get so picky about handjobs. You fist it for a few minutes, feeling the vibrator bump against your clit. Which, considering its not even on, has no right to feel that good.

Once you get used to the way the dildo moves within its ring and how to compensate for the way the straps shift on your hips, you take the strap-on off and clean the dildo of lube. The stuff is way better than water-based lube, and you can’t wait to see it in action. You pack the strap-on and the lube back into the bag and leave it in your bedroom. Then you take a seat at your dining room table, pulling out a stack of ungraded papers instead. Time to spend some quality time with Marie Curie.

The next two days are validating, if nothing else. Keishin’s decided to go full little shit and keeps sexting you in the middle of your lectures like you’re supposed to just be able to explain oxygen theory of combustion after receiving a text detailing just how hard his cock is. You’d given him your best glare and sent a lengthy email telling him to fuck off, but to no avail. Plus, yesterday, he showed up at your office hours after practice, covered in sweat, and looking ridiculously hot, “just to say hi.” You won’t let it bother you, though. He’ll get what he deserves soon enough.

By Friday afternoon, you’re a mass of nerves and vindictive anticipation. Keishin’s been shooting you heated smirks all day. At lunch, he purposefully spills a packet soy sauce all over his hand just to seductively lick it off each of his fingers. You think it really speaks to your libido that, under the righteous indignation, you were actually pretty turned on by that. Stupid fucking Keishin, getting you hot and bothered with convenience store dumplings, of all things.

You’re practically vibrating when you open the door to your apartment at seven sharp, tamping down on your anxiety. You give Keishin your most relaxed, most expectant smile, and he responds by giving you that stupid(ly sexy) smirk and thrusting a bottle of cheap wine your way.

“Hey, Princess,” he says, bending down to peck you on the cheek. “How was your week?”

“Um,” you blink at him owlishly, thrown, “fine?”

“Really?” Keishin asks, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind himself. As soon as the lock clicks into place, he’s on you like a starfish, head tucked into your neck. “Because mine’s been torture. All I can think about is how gorgeous you look under me. Over me. Everywhere. God, you drive me nuts.”

You feel something heavy in your chest. You bring your hands up to card through his hair. “I know the feeling.” Because all jokes and exasperation aside, Keishin’s under your skin in a big way, pumping you full of something that tastes like burnt, thick sugar and smells like Valentine’s Day chocolates. You’re drowning in Keishin Ukai, and you fucking love it.

“Do you now?” Keishin stills, then his hands change directions on your back, one scooping down to you ass and the other up into your hair. “And how does it feel, Princess?”

Oh, and there’s the smarmy little imp that’s been harassing you in school. Your lips curl into a devilish smile, out of Keishin’s line of sight, and you lean your weight into his hold. “Oh, I’m not sure I can even explain it, Keishin,” you sigh woefully. “Maybe I should just show you instead.”

“I think I could get behind that,” he agrees, pulling back. “Maybe even literally.” He leers down at you, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Classy, Ukai.” You snort despite yourself. “Remind me why I ever agreed to have sex with you?”

“Is that a request or an invitation?” His hands fall to your hips, thumbs rubbing lazy circles into your hipbones, “I accept both.”

You purse your lips, whether to fight a grin or a scowl, you’re unsure. “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” you suggest. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Keishin grins. “Lead the way.”

You set the wine bottle on the table and lead him by the hand to your room, hips swaying, nerves were forgotten. This is going to be so much fun. You open the door to your room, watching Keishin leap onto the bed. “Close your eyes and take off your clothes,” you order, unbuttoning your blouse. Keishin inhales sharply, eyes falling shut as he peels off his shirts and wiggles free from his pants. He’s already half-hard, boxers just beginning to tent.

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Not yet, no,” you replied, opening the drawer and pulling out your bag of tricks. you slid the strap-on into place, tightening the buckles with confident, practiced accuracy. “I thought we’d try something different today. Just the thought of it has kept me wet all week.”

Keishin twitches in his boxers, fists clenching on the edge of the bed. “Now, I’ve got to know. ”

“Open your eyes.”

Keishin blinks them open, freezing when they land on the dildo. You stroke it slowly, delighting in the way a ruddy blush works up his toned chest.

“Oh,” he says, sounding faintly disappointed. “I thought….”

“You thought you could tease me all week at school and get away with it,” you supply, baring your teeth when he flinches. “Newsflash asshole, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. So, what do you think of my cock, Keishin? I picked it out special, just for you.”

Keishin shudders, bowing his head in supplication. “Tell me what to do,” he says, voice gone hoarse.

“Answer the question.”

“It’s, uh,” Keishin stammers, glancing up at it, “it’s very… pretty?”

“Damn straight, it is,” you growl, striding toward the bed in long, slow steps. “What are you going to do with such a pretty cock, Keishin?” And wow, where is this coming from? You’re just supposed to fuck him and get it over with. This aggression is all-new, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. And, judging by how hard Keishin is, you assume the feeling is mutual.

“Can I suck it?” he asks meekly, eyes pointedly not meeting yours. A total display of submission. You approve. You move to stand in front of him, positioning the cock at his lips, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Keishin groans, reaching out to suck the head into his mouth. He bobs his head, working deeper down your shaft each time. You bite your lip, feeling a hot wave of arousal work down your spine. He’s beautiful like this, cheeks hollowed around the length of yellow, sparkly rubber. Your hand leaves the base to cup the back of his head, and his hand takes its place. He pulls back to suckle at the head, eyes looking up at you heatedly.

Fuck.

“So pretty,” you sigh, hand petting the dark hair on the nape of his neck. “I can see why guys like this so much.” Keishin’s eyes flutter shut, lashes long against his cheekbones. “What do you think, Keishin? Do you like sucking cock?”

Keishin moans, sucking as deep as he can go. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re desperate. His free hand moves to his own cock, pulling it out of the gape of his underwear.

You freeze, pulling his head back by the grip in his hair. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” Keishin shoots you a pleading look, but you’re already pulling out of his mouth, dildo shiny with spit. “Take them off, get on the bed. Hands and knees.”

He stumbles to do your bidding, cock dark red and angry-looking. You pick up the lube from where you’d placed it on the nightstand and kneel behind him. The lube opens with a wet click that makes Keishin jerk in surprise. You spread the lube liberally on your fingers, reaching out to trace one over his hole, teasing. Keishin mewls and pushes back, eagerly. You feel another gush of heat between your legs, pushing the finger in slowly. You work the finger in and out, curling it down to find his prostate. You find it on the fourth try, judging by the way he keens and clenches around you.

The second finger is met with a little resistance, and Keishin takes in a deep breath to relax his muscles. You kiss the small of his back in praise, scissoring the fingers once you’re able. This is a lot more intimate than you’d expected it to be, working Keishin open like this. It fills you with a strange sense of responsibility, you want to do this right, you want to make it good for him.

“Just relax, Keishin,” you whisper, as he whines and clenches around your third finger, “you can do this. We can stop anytime you want.”

Keishin heaves a great, shivering breath, but he relaxes. You work as slowly as you can, pushing against his rim more than thrusting in until he’s loose enough to take you. You squirt more lube onto your fingers, pushing them slowly into him until he takes them all the way to the knuckle. You make sure to graze his prostate every few thrusts, only content when he’s moving back to meet you thrust-for-thrust.

“M'ready,” he whispers, sounding wrecked. You pressed a kiss his hipbone in sympathy. “Want you.”

“Okay,” you say softly, pulling your lube-slick fingers out of him. You lube up your cock quickly, pressing the tip to his rim. “You sure?”

“Do it, Princess,” he says, wriggling his hips, “or I’ll start bringing bananas for lunch.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Idiot.” You hold the cock firmly in one hand, pressing it carefully into him. His breath hitches and stops, and he leans into the intrusion. You press a wet kiss to the back of his neck when the head slides in. “How’s that?” You ask, moving slowly until the base of the dildo is pressed against his ass.

“Gimme a minute,” he manages, shoulders locked with tension. You hold your position, rubbing soothingly over his back and down his flanks. After a minute, he moves, shoulders relaxing. “Go slow, okay?”

You murmur an “okay” and pull out an inch. You move back in, starting a rhythm of tiny thrusts. You only lengthen them when he grows impatient and flails a hand at you. You pull out almost all the way, then shove back in, gasping when the vibrator buzzes to life over your clit.

You begin moving in earnest, grinding into him to feel the vibrator flutter against your clit. God, it felt good. You shift to the right a little, and Keishin moans, all high and whimpery and divine. You move to hit that spot again, grinning when he chokes out another moan. You angle yourself so that all of your thrusts will meet that spot, draping yourself over his back to work a hand on his cock. He’s hard as a rock and dripping pre-cum as he twitches under your touch.

Keishin makes a broken sound and works his hips, thrusting back onto your fake cock and forward into your fist. You feel the world spin around you; this was by far the hottest thing you ever done with anyone.

And you think Keishin might agree because thirty seconds later he starts babbling:“ fuck, I’m gonna cum. Shit, feel so perfect inside me, please, let me cum, tell me I can cum, please. I need you to say yes, please.”

You suck in a breath through your teeth. He wants you to give him permission? Oh, fuck, yes. “Cum for me, Keishin, wanna see you cum around my cock,” you command, voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. Keishin whimpers, and he’s cumming, hips spasming. You watch his hole clench around your cock and feel yet another gush of heat, this one dripping down your thighs. You continue to move inside him until he gasps and pulls away. You pull out slowly, groaning at the way his skin tugs around the length of you.

He flips onto his back as soon as he’s free, fingers racing to undo the buckles of your harness. “You didn’t come.” He huffs, tugging at the straps, “I wanna make you come. Please let me.”

You shove the strap-on away, throwing it half-way across the room. “How do you want me, Keishin?”

Keishin collapses, rubbery, on the bed. “Sit on my face, Princess.”

Fuck. You can do that. You move up until your knees bracket his head and hold yourself over his face. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispers, kissing the dampness from your thighs, working up to your center.

He licks into you delicately, mopping up all of your juices. You’re hypersensitive already and gasp into his teasing touches. Keishin slides his tongue inside you, curling it upwards. You keen, grinding down onto his mouth before you can stop yourself. You move to pull off to apologize, but Keishin holds your hips down, face more blissful than you’ve ever seen it. You run your fingers through his hair, swiveling your hips over his mouth.

“Need you on my clit,” you gasp and Keishin hums (which, okay, wow) and sucks your clit between his lips, sliding two thick fingers into you. He licks and sucks at you, pushing you farther and farther closer to the edge, but it’s the gentle nibble that finally pushes you over it. You scream soundlessly, fingers scrambling for purchase on the bed. His hands keep you from falling off his mouth as he licks you down from your orgasm. When you mewl in discomfort, he presses one last kiss to you clit before pulling away.

You collapse next to him, thighs sore and blissed out.

“Learn your lesson?” you asked him sleepily, eyes closing.

“No wonder none of the boys are failing physics. You’re quite the teacher,” Keishin nods, still panting slightly. “Though, I think you may have to go over it again sometime.”

You laugh and turn to look at him. He’s smiling back at you, eyes soft and happy. The heavy feeling in your chest returns, and you feel like you can’t breathe. You lean in and kiss him, ignoring the way he tastes like you. His own flavor was much sweeter. “I think we can manage that,” you whisper against his glistening lips.

He lazily tangles his hand in yours and brings it up to kiss you knuckles. “Good.”

When you wake the next morning with muscular forearms wrapped around you, you panic for a moment before remembering who it is and relax into Keishin’s embrace.

[nikki-writes-stuff]

Beauty in the Blood - Part One

Summary: One day your friend convinces you to join a dating website that matches people based on their search histories, and when you match with Loki Odinson, a handsome, intelligent coroner who’s a fan of your murder mysteries, you’re absolutely thrilled. But there’s something off about Loki, and as your relationship progresses, you discover that his dark side is even darker than you could ever have imagined... 

Pairing: Serial Killer!Loki x Writer!Reader 

A/N: This story is based off of this post! I hope you guys enjoy; this is my first time writing Loki, and this will probably be the darkest thing I’ve ever written. Please let me know what you think as the story progresses! 

Warning: This chapter contains hints of smut and GRAPHIC descriptions of death and murder. Later on, this fic will also include rape/non con, dub con, kidnapping, yandere/obsessive elements, and even MORE graphic descriptions of death and murder. Please read at your own risk, and as usual, this is only for the eyes of those 18 and older. Thank you, and enjoy!

It was hard to find a decent guy these days. New York was the city of dreamers, artists, and absolute weirdos, and out of the three, you only seemed to attract the latter. You’d been to speed dating events and Singles Night at your local bar, but there was never a connection, never a spark, and every guy seemed to have something fundamentally wrong with him. It wasn’t that you were looking for the perfect guy, it was just that you’d met too many who were demanding, controlling, or misogynistic.  

You’d given up on finding your special someone a year after you’d moved to the city. After all, being single wasn’t too bad. You could do what you want whenever you wanted without having to think about someone else. So what if you didn’t have anyone to kiss on New Years? So what if you cried a little every now and then from feeling so alone? It was fine. It was absolutely fine, you told yourself. Fine, fine, fine…

“I’m absolutely fine, Wanda. I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy.”

You were sat across from your good friend, who was stirring her coffee with one hand while she tapped her fingers against the table with the other. She arched a skeptical eyebrow at you before taking a sip of her drink.

“You’re right; you don’t. But you’re lonely,” she pointed out. “A boyfriend would help with that.”

There was no denying that she was right. Wanda was perceptive, and she was also one of your closest friends. You’d met her during your first week of living in New York, and she’d helped you adjust to living in such a busy, fast-paced place. She probably knew you better than you knew yourself, and that was why you slumped in defeat and threw back the last gulp left of your mimosa.

“God, you’re right,” you bemoaned. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know,” she grinned. “But don’t worry; I can help.”

“Wanda, not that I don’t appreciate your effort, but the last guy you sent me out on a date with got mad that I didn’t put out after he paid for my dinner. I don’t want to go on any more blind dates.”

She winced, reaching over to pat the back of your hand.

“I had no idea Kyle was like that,” she promised you. “If I’d known he would be such an asshole you know I wouldn’t have set you up. But I wasn’t going to suggest another blind date.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“What did you have in mind, then?”

She grinned and reached into her purse, fishing around until she found her phone.

“I heard of a new dating app that made me immediately think of you,” she explained excitedly, pulling up the website and passing her device over to you. “It matches you with people in your area based on your Google searches!”

“Pfffft.” You scoffed, taking a quick glance at the screen before looking back to your friend. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard of.”

“I know, I know, it’s a strange concept. But it has one of the highest success ratings out of all the dating websites! It’s only been around for six months, but over half of its users say that they’ve found someone they can see themselves spending the rest of their lives with!”

“Statistics can be made up, you know,” you groused. “Besides, one look at my browser history would send anyone running in the opposite direction.”

“Maybe not someone who has one similar to yours,” she pointed out. “C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Wanda, you know what I do for a living, right? I could match with some kind of serial killer!”

Your friend just waved you off and ordered another coffee, picking up her phone again and stuffing it into her pocket.

“Just try it? Please?” she begged. “Just give it a shot, and if it doesn’t work out, then that’s that, right? No harm done.”

Several hours later, and you found yourself sitting on your couch, staring at the same website homepage that Wanda had shown you. You bit your lip, letting your fingers skim over your laptop’s keys, not typing anything just yet but feeling their ridges as you considered the “Join Now” button.

There wouldn’t be any harm in it, right? Just like Wanda said, if you hated the kind of people you matched with, then you could always delete your profile. And you didn’t only search things for your research, after all; you also googled recipes and cute animal videos. What if you matched with a gorgeous guy who’d also googled “Try Not To Laugh – Kitten Edition”? Hell yeah.

After taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you clicked on the button, making quick work of filling out the ‘About You’ information. Five minutes later, you’d chosen a profile picture and linked your Google account to the website, and you were ready to sift through your matches. The wheel on the screen turned slowly as your computer processed the information, and you actually jolted when it dinged with the results.

Well. Result. There was only one person who’d shown up with a similar search history as you. You let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, and you almost closed your laptop and went to retreat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from your fridge, calling it a day and forgetting the whole debacle. But then you saw his profile picture and… Holy shit.

He was lean and pale, and your eyes were immediately drawn to his long, black hair. He had it slicked back in the photo with just one strand hanging down over his left eye. In the photo, he was wearing an exquisitely tailored black suit with a black shirt and tie underneath it, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail along the lithe contours of his body. He looked as if he were carved from marble; you almost started drooling just from the sight of him.

You jumped again when your computer dinged for a second time, and your eyes widened when you saw that you had a new message in your inbox. With fingers that were just barely trembling, you opened it, skimming over the message from the man you’d paired with.

Good evening. I must admit, I was quite surprised when I got the notification that we’d matched with one another. I’ve had this profile for about four months, and I’d had yet to be paired with anyone.

So he was handsome and eloquent. You clicked on his profile and blinked when you saw his name. Loki Odinson. Wow. Even his name was refined, if not a little strange; it sounded like a name you’d give to one of the characters in your books.

Hello, Loki, you typed out. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was pretty surprised to find someone else who has such a twisted search history. I don’t know if I should be happy or concerned.

It only took him a few moments to reply.

The feeling is mutual; I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for the morbidity, though. Mine is that I happen to be a coroner for a living. And yours is…?

I’m a writer, you explained, your interest piqued by his profession. I write murder mysteries. So, yeah… Morbidity seems like a fitting way to describe it.

A writer, you say. I happen to be quite an avid reader; would I know any of your work?

I’m not sure; have you ever heard of The Bell Ringer? That’s probably my most well-known book.

You’re kidding.

He sent you a picture, and it was of a pale hand holding a copy of The Bell Ringer, your name glistening in bold font beneath the title.

I’m a great fan of your work, as you can see. I own several of your novels.

Another photo loaded beneath the newest text, and it was of a shelf full of your books. The Shrew Woman, A Night in New Hampshire, The Hanging Woman – nine books in total. The only one that you’d written that wasn’t there was the one you’d just sent out to your publisher, and you suspected that once it was out in stores, it would be joining the ranks of Loki’s shelf.

Wow! It’s always so nice to meet a reader. I’m so glad you like my stuff!

Oh, love, you’re a huge talent. I must say, I’ve found your work rather inspiring.

That’s so kind of you to say!

I know that this is rather forward, but are you doing anything tonight?

You glanced up at the clock you had hanging on the wall – 8:13 pm. It was already pretty late; typically you’d be putting on your pajamas and curling up in bed to do some late night reading here soon. But something inside of you whispered that you should do it; you weren’t spontaneous enough. What if this was an opportunity to meet the One? At the very least, it would be cool to meet such a loyal reader.

It depends on if this guy I’m talking to online asks me out. Do you think he will?

He would have to be a fool not to. I suspect he’ll ask you if you’d like to meet at a café.

Well, then, I suspect I’ll have to say yes.

An excited grin was plastered over your lips as you bantered back and forth, and when Loki sent you an address and a message saying ‘I’ll see you there in twenty minutes’, you jumped off of your sofa and rushed to put on your shoes. You were still dressed in the leggings and oversized sweater you’d worn to brunch with Wanda, and all you had to do was straighten your hair and pull on your boots before you were out the door. The address he’d sent you was within walking distance of your apartment; in fact, you’d been there before, but never on a date.

Your heart was pounding the entire way over, and you couldn’t get over how unlike you this was. You didn’t just get up and meet guys you’d met on the internet on such short notice, much less so late at night. And yet here you were, stepping into the café fifteen minutes after receiving Loki’s message. Your eyes scanned the room, but it appeared that he wasn’t there yet. As you got in line to order, you tried to calm yourself, not wanting to look too frazzled when your date finally showed up. You tried to even your breathing, twisting the fabric of your sleeves between your nervous fingers.

He’s just a person, you told yourself. You’ve been on dates before; everything was going to be fine. Nothing bad was going to-

“Hello, there.”

You gasped and turned around, eliciting a chuckle from the man now towering over you. He was dressed in a set of black trousers with a simple white button-down tucked into them, and his hair was loose and falling around his shoulders. His grin was wide and full of teeth, with just the slightest sinister edge to it. But his eyes were warm and twinkling with excitement and just a hint of mischief. Those clear blue irises brought a smile to your own lips, and you chuckled along with him at your initial fright.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you walk in,” you explained.

“It’s quite alright,” he assured you, offering his hand. “I know you already are aware, but I’m Loki.”

You grinned and introduced yourself, going to shake his hand, but he smoothly cradled your fingers and drew them up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.

“It’s good to finally meet you in person,” he cooed, seemingly all too aware of how flustered you now were.

You opened your mouth to say something in return, but you couldn’t think of anything to say as silence lay heavily between the two of you. You were saved, though, when the barista called out to you, asking if she could take your order. You spun around on your heel and shot her a grateful glance before ordering your favorite menu item and reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“…And I’ll have a cup of Earl Grey,” Loki stepped in, handing her a card from his open wallet.

“Oh, I could have paid for mine,” you protested, but he waved you off.

“No, no, love. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a tight, close-lipped smile, and you didn’t protest further as he paid for your orders. He led you to a booth in the corner, sliding into the side opposite to yours gracefully. The leather squeaked against your thighs as you shuffled in, and when you were finally settled across from him you caught a flicker in his eye that sent chills up your spine.

It was gone in an instant, though, replaced by the same suave look he’d had while ordering his tea.

“So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “As I said before, I’m a fan of your work. Truly, I have been since your very first novel.”

“’Beauty in the Blood’?” you asked incredulously. “I’m surprised; no one seems to like that one. After reading it, my mom suggested that I start going to therapy.”

Loki chuckled, licking his lips, and your eyes followed his tongue of their own accord.

“Ah, well, whether or not that’s true, it’s still my favorite of your works by far,” he continued. “The parts told by the killer’s perspective were…beautiful. You captured his mind so artfully, it was as if…”

He paused, searching your face for a moment.

“It was as if…you understood him,” he finished.

You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking over his words. He’d skipped right over the small talk you’d come to suspect on first dates, but despite how strange of a direction the conversation was taking, you were…intrigued by it.

“Well,” you started, “I feel like I did understand him.  I mean, sure, he took delight in the killing of others; he saw it as an art form. But as twisted and evil as he was, he was still a person – a person that had come from my mind. Cuz the thing is…”

You paused, gathering your thoughts and trying to find the right words to convey them.

“The thing is,” you spoke carefully, “that every storyteller uses bits and pieces of themselves to tell a story. A story is like a stained glass window – it’s made up of different pieces of an author’s mind and soul, and it comes together to create something greater than the sum of those pieces. So, yes, I think I can understand him; his darkness might be a reflection of my own – deep, deep down.”

You glanced up at him, blinking when you saw the transfixed look upon his face. His eyes were wider than they had been before, and his lips were parted as he listened.

“Sorry,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I, uh… I got a little carried away. You probably think I’m some kind of freak-“

“I think you’re beautiful.”

His words took your breath away, and when the barista set down your cups on the table, you jumped in surprise.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” she asked cheerfully, and a flash of annoyance crossed over Loki’s face at the interruption.

“We’re fine,” you assured her quickly, giving her a polite smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome!”

You gripped your mug tightly as she walked away, savoring its heat as it warmed up your cold hands.

“So,” you said, desperate to break the sudden silence that had fallen over the table, “you mentioned that you’re a coroner. What drew you to your profession?”

Loki sipped his tea, humming as he thought over the question.

“Well… The conversation has already veered towards the darker side of things,” he mused. “I might as well tell you the story.

“When I was twelve years old, my sister killed herself,” he began.

“Oh, Loki, I’m so sorry-“

“Oh, no, don’t be,” he interrupted. “We weren’t close at all. I was adopted at a young age, you see, and Hella never accepted me. She was cruel, and she took every opportunity she could to remind me of my inadequacies.

“But, as I said, one day she died. At first, we didn’t know how it happened; there were no marks on her body whatsoever. She just looked like she was sleeping as she lay there in bed. We called the hospital, and the police, and eventually the coroners discovered that she’d injected bleach into her arm. Later on, my mother found the syringe under her bed, and all the pieces of the puzzle fit together. We finally knew the how and the when, and I never really cared much about the why.

“…That probably makes me sound like a monster, doesn’t it?”

You sat back, swallowing a scalding-hot sip of your drink before answering.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “I don’t think that makes you a monster. She abused you; it’s only natural that you found some relief in her death. I would’ve probably felt the same way.”

He studied you for a moment, tracing the lip of his cup with his index finger.

“I wonder if you would have…” he murmured to himself, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it.

“Well,” he sighed, plastering a smile on once more and straightening up, “you probably aren’t going to be very keen on a second date if I keep dragging our conversation into subjects like this. Tell me, where are you from? What made you move to the city?”

“How do you know I’m not from here?”

“Love, neither of us have the New York accent, now do we?”

You laughed, and after that the two of you fell into an easy flow; it seemed that the heavy beginning of the date made it all the easier to talk to him. You discussed what you liked about the city and what you didn’t like; you learned that Loki was originally from a small town right outside of London, and that he has an adopted brother named Thor that he was close to.

“He’s an oaf,” he’d said when you’d asked what his brother was like. “Everything about him is literally the opposite of its coinciding part of me. But…he loves me; he never thought of me as the adopted child. I was always just his brother; despite his shortcomings, I think he does mean well. Besides, his IQ level is in the single digits, so I’m afraid I must look out for him for fear of what would happen if he were left to his own devices.”

From there, you shared stories about growing up, about life and ex partners and mistakes and successes. Before you knew it, the happy barista from before was approaching your table again, this time with a nervous smile.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted. “I’m so so sorry to bother you, but we’re closing up…”

Loki glanced down at his watch as you glanced at your phone – 10:30.

“Shit,” you laughed. “I had no idea. Time flies…”

Your date shot a glare at the barista before his eyes flickered to you. He gave you a wide, close-lipped smile and straightened his collar, raising his eyebrows.

“Then I suppose it’s time for us to head out,” he murmured. “May I escort you home?”

“Oh! Of course. If it’s not too far out of your way…”

“Even if it is,” he smiled, “I still want to walk you home.”

Your heart fluttered, and you set a five dollar bill on the table as a tip before standing up. The barista scurried away, and you almost turned to apologize to her for Loki’s cold shoulder. But you didn’t know him well yet; maybe that’s just how he was. Maybe he didn’t mean anything by it.

“You guys have a good night!” she called out after you, and you smiled over your shoulder at her before reaching for the door. Loki’s hand darted out and grabbed the handle before you could, opening it for you with a slight bow.

“After you, my lady.”

“How chivalrous.”

The two of you walked side by side down the street, hands brushing as you strolled down the sidewalk. You glanced upwards, smiling at the scattering of stars overhead as your breath fogged in the chilly air. You shivered, rubbing your arms a little bit to ward off the chill. Loki evidently caught the movement, and you felt his arm drape around your shoulders. You leaned into the warmth of his body, tilting your head up to share a grin with him.

“Again – chivalrous.”

He chuckled, squeezing you for a beat.

“I try my best… It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“Gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as you, but…very pretty.”

You laughed and hid your face in his neck.

“Stop… You’re too charming.”

“Oh, really? I was under the impression there was no such thing.”

The two of you fell back into a companionable silence as you guided him towards your brownstone, until he spoke up once again.

“I must say… There’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask you that I’m just…dying to know the answer to.”

“Go ahead, Loki. I’m an open book.”

He laughed softly again, hesitating before voicing his question.

“If you were to kill someone, how would you do it?”

You paused, thinking over your response.

“Well… Why am I killing them? Is it a crime of passion or a crime of necessity? Am I killing them just for the enjoyment of it, or out of revenge, or because the person needs to die for a bigger cause?”

“That… That is actually an excellent follow-up question,” Loki mused. “Let’s say… A crime of necessity. The person needs to die for a personal reason with no anger or revenge in mind. How do you do it?”

You bit your lip, calling to mind all of your morbid Google searches that might apply.

“Um… Air shot between the toes,” you finally said. “Fill a syringe with air and inject it between their toes while they sleep. It’ll look like a heart attack that way.”

Unbeknownst to you, warmth suddenly bloomed in Loki’s chest, and you glanced up just in time to catch the fond, almost…loving gleam in his eye. He quickly looked away, tilting his head up to look at the stars, but you’d caught it. And it wasn’t that it unsettled you; you weren’t uncomfortable because of the look. You were uncomfortable because you hadn’t been upset by it. You’d felt that same flutter once again as butterflies batted around your rib cage.

Nothing more was said as you turned the corner that led to your street, and you silently ascended your home’s steps with Loki’s arm still around your shoulders. You reluctantly slid your key into the lock, only turning to him once your door was opened a crack.

“I had… A really good time with you, Loki,” you told him, craning your neck to look into his eyes. “I know that this isn’t what you’re supposed to say to a guy after a first date; I know that it might scare you away. But I want you to know that I haven’t felt this way in a long… Actually, I’ve never felt this way. And it’s really scary, but I hope… I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”

Loki’s eyes softened, and he moved his arm from around your shoulders to your cheek.

“I haven’t felt his way, either,” he murmured. “But I know that I don’t want the feeling to go away.”

He was leaning forward, his eyes closing, and your heart leapt into your throat as you met him halfway. His lips were cold, and smooth, and soft as they pressed against yours, and you leaned into his touch when he pulled you closer by your hips. A sound escaped your throat as his tongue darted out, licking past the barrier of your mouth to glide itself against yours. His hands came up to cradle your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against your cheekbones as your lips moved against one another, and you hummed once again as your chests pressed together.

You don’t know who pulled away first, but you spent a moment just taking in one another’s essence, your foreheads pressed together as the fog of your breaths mingled. You heard Loki let out a chuckle, and you looked up curiously.

“What is it?”

“I’ve just…” He licked his lips and let out another soft laugh before pulling away.

“I’ve just never felt like this before,” he repeated.

You smiled and pressed a peck to his lips before walking towards your door again.

“Have a good night, love,” he called after you, and you paused in the doorway to blow him a kiss.

“You too, Loki.”

You shut your door, missing the way his gaze darkened as he stared at the façade of your building.

“Oh, I will, darling. I will.”

__________

Loki hummed to himself, the leather of his gloves squeaking as he clenched and unclenched his fists. The silver of the table gleamed under the fluorescent lights of his basement, and the air was musty, thick with the smell of iron…and decay. Instruments and tools were lined along the wall in front of him - knives, machetes, a hatchet… It was cliché; he knew that. But he just hadn’t been able to resist the temptation while designing this special room.

A muffled scream sounded from behind him, and he rolled his eyes before turning back to the perky little barista who was currently strapped down to another metal table he’d “borrowed” from the hospital morgue.

“Are you honestly still trying to scream for help?” he snarked, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’ve told you; you’re currently under about five feet of solid concrete. Who will hear you? Who will help you?”

The girl let out a sob, and he watched her big blue eyes flicker to the wall just over his shoulder before coming to rest on him again. They were red and swollen, and he let out a coo of false sympathy.

“Oh, don’t worry, little girl. None of these are for you.” He grinned, turning back to the table behind him. “You can thank my new lover for that. No, she inspired me to take a different direction this evening.”

A small, genuine smile came over his face as he picked up the large syringe, turning it over in his hands.

“She’s been inspiring me for a while, actually,” he mused, ignoring the screams as he sauntered over to his victim, syringe in hand. “She’s such a brilliant writer, my darling is. It truly was fate that brought us together; if I’d had known that my favorite author was a beautiful young woman who also lived in Manhattan, well… I’m sure I would have found her sooner. But I won’t dwell on lost time; I’ll just have to make up for it.”

He ran a hand over the girl’s knee, trailing it down her shin even as she struggled against the strong ropes twined around her wrists and ankles. As his hand gripped the arch of her foot in an iron-like hold, he let his eyes close. This was always his favorite part – the moments right before death. The anticipation was like foreplay; it got him just as hot and eager, and the payoff was very nearly comparable. If he were ever asked to describe the feeling of ending another person’s life, of ripping out the remaining chapters from their story before it could be written, the only thing he’d be able to compare it to was an orgasm. That white-hot pleasure that flooded his veins was addictive, as was the lead up he was experiencing right now.

“You know,” he mused, slowly drawing back the plunger of the syringe, “my girl is so smart… Not a lot of people would think to off someone like this. But it’s not as easy as you would think; you can’t just use any old syringe. It has to be big, has to be a lot of air. And you have to be careful; if you hit muscle, it won’t be fatal, and the whole endeavor would be for naught. But if you hit a vein, and if you get a big enough pocket of air…”

The duct tape on her mouth did little to quell her scream as he inserted the needle into her flesh. A novice might not be able to find a vein, especially not in a foot, but the years of medical school paid off, just as they did every day at his job. He injected the empty cartridge into her vein, groaning and letting his eyes drift shut. He was slow about removing the needle; the separation of steel from skin was slow, intimate… Gentle.

“Hush…” he whispered, drawing out the word with a hiss. “It’s done now, love. It’s done.”

He let his arm fall to the side, and he took a step back, watching the girl start to settle down as he put some distance between them. He gently set the syringe down onto the table before crossing the room to the armchair in the corner. Letting out a soft grunt, he lowered himself into the seat, crossing his legs and letting his head fall back.

“Fuck, what a day,” he sighed. “This isn’t what I was expecting when I woke up this morning.”

Loki lifted his head and gave the young girl a wry smile.

“As you may have guessed, this isn’t my first time doing something like this,” he began. “But I do try to limit myself. I may take…five victims a year. Maybe six or seven if I’m particularly stressed. My last one was on New Year’s, though. I’m not due for a killing for another few months, but… That girl really had me going.

“I was hoping that she’d invite me in tonight,” he confessed. “Though I wasn’t expecting it. It was our first date, after all. But a man can hope, can’t he? If she had invited me to stay the night, you wouldn’t be here right now. Alas, though… I had all of these pent up feelings that I had to do something with. And you were so…obnoxious back at the café. I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine with your disgusting, overbearing cheerfulness or if it was as fake as your blonde hair. But, god, did it get under my skin…”

The girl let out a sob, and he noticed that she was beginning to shake. He chuckled, feeling himself grow hard in his trousers as he thought of you. You’d come up with this idea, this beautiful, drawn-out murder. Such a sweet, innocent looking girl on the outside. But such delicious, pure wickedness within.

“Fuck,” he huffed, palming himself through his pants. “Despite the nuisance you made of yourself, today was so perfect… She’s the One, you know. The one and only girl who can ever complete me. I didn’t even believe in this sort of thing this morning, but for the first time in my life, I’m glad I was wrong.”

He forced himself to still his hand, moving it to his knee as his jaw clenched. In the past, he’d done this in front of a few of his victims; male or female, if they were pretty, young things, the act of killing them made him so hard that he had to touch himself as he watched them squirm on his table. But not tonight, not after you. That part of himself was only for you, now, and he was strong enough to resist the urge until his was the only heart beating under his roof.

And so he sat back and watched. At first, the girl only shivered, and after thirty minutes he was afraid that he hadn’t injected enough air into her. But then he noticed the way she was breathing; it was like she was a fish out of water, and the slope of her furrowed eyebrows betrayed the pain she was in.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, voice thick. At first she didn’t answer, but then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. He hummed in understanding, hiding his grin behind his hand as he scratched his chin.

“How marvelous.”

He knew she wouldn’t last long when her skin started to turn blue. After an hour, the seizures began, jolting and shaking her body as if she were a ragdoll. He watched in fascination, his cold, blue eyes never leaving her tied-up form. Soft, strained whimpers were leaving her throat, and he let out a purr as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

His joints popped as he stood up, and the heels of his shoes clicked against the concrete floor as he rounded the table, making his way to her pretty blonde head. He slowly, deliberately pulled the duct tape away from her mouth, and he chuckled at how blue her lips had become.

“This is a much better look on you,” he observed. “This is so much more real than those saccharine smiles.”  

She finally went still 84 minutes after the injection. Even after her heart stopped beating, he stood over her, watching the unnatural stillness of her chest. Despite all of the corpses he’d created over the years, and despite the years he’d spent in his profession, it was still something that he’d never gotten used to. People weren’t supposed to be that still; people were supposed to blink, and smile, and talk, and breathe, but the things they became after death did none of those things. They didn’t move, and they didn’t feel, and there was always a moment of disgust when he first laid eyes on a fresh corpse.

But it passed quickly, even quicker than normal tonight. The disgust faded away and left behind pure, unadulterated lust as his thoughts strayed once more to you. Typically, he would stay behind, lingering in the basement to dispose of the body. Sometimes, if he wasn’t too tired, he would actually drive out and deposit them in whatever spot he’d predetermined to be the one the police were to find them in.

But tonight, he left the corpse there on the table. He flicked the lights off and climbed the first, then the second set of stairs, peeling off his gloves and petting his cat on the way to his bedroom. He showered, then combed his hair, then settled down between his silk sheets completely naked. Then, and only then, did his hand travel down to his cock, and his mind once again, indubitably, trekked back to you. Your face, your voice, your beautiful fucking mind…

The thought that finally made him cum was the picture of him fucking you in a pool of blood on his basement floor, of the bright crimson painting your skin as he let his hands worship your body. The thought followed him into his dreams, ruby red and throbbing to the beat of his heart as he slept deeply into the night.

_____________

Detective Romanoff stood side by side with her partner in front of the dead body, hands planted firmly on her hips as she chewed her lip.

“How old did you say she was?” she asked the coroner, her eyes flicking down to the rope burn on the woman’s – the girl’s – wrists and ankles.

“Twenty,” was Dr. Odinson’s accented reply. He turned around, glancing between the two detectives before taking a deep breath and turning his attention back to the body. “I’m afraid that there won’t be much investigating for the two of you to do here. The cause of death was a heart attack, pure and simple.”

“A twenty year old girl having a heart attack?” Detective Rogers scoffed. “I think you got your wires crossed, there, Loki.”

Natasha watched as a muscle in the coroner’s jaw twitched, and he let out a frustrated huff as he peeled off his medical gloves.

“Detective, this sort of thing happens all the time – freak accidents that can strike even the healthiest of people. They are…unfortunate, but they’re also a fact of life.” He tossed the balled up gloves into a trash can and whisked past them, bending over to type something into the laptop resting on his desk as he continued speaking to them.

“After reviewing her medical records, I found out that her father died two years ago from a heart attack; if I were a gambling man, I would say that a bad set of genes were the only culprit here.”

“What about the marks on her wrists?” Natasha asked. “They gotta mean something, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Loki smirked, cutting his eyes over at her before straightening up. “It probably means that little Miss…” He paused, glancing down at a paper resting beside his computer. “Miss Allison Berry was into bondage before her untimely demise.”

“A woman is lying dead, Odinson,” Rogers spat. “Show some respect.”

Loki raised his hands up in surrender as he sauntered towards them.

“I apologize if I offended you, Detective,” he replied coolly. “I meant no disrespect. But I’ve run all the tests in the book. There were no signs of sexual assault, no signs of foul play. I’ll type up a proper report for the two of you, but I’m telling you now – the girl died of a heart attack.”

Natasha and Steve shared a look before turning back to the doctor.

“Have the report ready for us before the end of the day,” she ordered, patting Steve on the shoulder and gesturing for him to follow her as she made her way out of the cold morgue.

“Whatever you say, Officer.”

Natasha froze mid-step, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck bristle as a thousand images flashed through her mind after hearing him say that word. She gulped, oblivious to the confused look Steve was giving her, and she kept walking without turning back around.

“It’s Detective, now, doctor.”

The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off Loki’s dark chuckle as he was once again was left alone with Allison Berry’s body. His smile didn’t fade as he pulled on another pair of gloves; if anything, it grew as he finished the young woman’s autopsy.

“I was being honest with them; you know that, don’t you?” He winked at the girl’s unseeing eyes, his hands moving of their own accord as he stitched up the clean line he’d cut through the skin, bone, and muscle of her chest.

“It was just a heart attack.”

[thekriseffect]

An Artless Smile (Liam x MC)

[Note: All this Royal Heir business is making me feel extra cheesy lately. I love the concept of MC starting a family, I love the lightheartedness of it, and I love that I have more Liam content to go off of! I missed this series way too much. So naturally I had to write a fic centered around this theme. They’re just too cute not to.]

[Summary: Halfway through her third trimester, Freya is feeling the effects of her pregnancy.]

[Song Inspiration: Where’s My Love- SYML.]

It’s difficult to do anything remotely exciting when you’re eight months pregnant. The highlights of my days, when not stuck dealing with overly theatrical political exchanges, are pretending to go into labor when I’m feeling particularly bored and walking the palace grounds. No, not walking. Waddling. Walking was abandoned long ago when I lost sight of my own feet. Waddling is now my short-term way of traveling. But lately my legs have decided that functioning all together is impractical and that lounging in bed is a far better pastime. So now my highlights have evolved into binging as many shows as possible and seeing how many marshmallows I can fit into my mouth at one time. The answer is six, in case anyone was wondering.

I won’t say that being pregnant is one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had. I’ll think it all I want, but I won’t actually voice it out loud. After all, it is my primary purpose in being Queen of Cordonia. To provide heirs for the throne to strengthen the line of succession… or so that’s what they love to tell me. I should feel honored, I’m Liam’s personal babymaker. Yay, me.

It’s not that I hate pregnancy necessarily, it’s just that I didn’t expect it to be this hard.

I hurts in places I didn’t even realize could hurt. Back aches, pelvic pain, swollen feet, all from a tiny human being no bigger than a soccer ball. There’s stubborn tension in my neck and shoulders that refuses to go away no matter how hard I try. I guess carrying an extra thirty pounds around does that to a person.

My hormones are out of control. One minute I’m so thoroughly happy that I could hug anything in sight and in the next I’m contemplating how difficult it would be to claw someone’s eyes out with my nails. Not that difficult, I’ve decided.

I miss my mother, Wendy Lin. The woman who abandoned me even before I knew what the word abandonment meant. The woman who didn’t think I mattered enough to stick around. The woman who preferred her independence over raising her one and only child. I’m surrounded by fine furnishings in a breathtaking country with people who love me, who need me, and all I can think about is someone who never wanted me in the first place. What would she say if she saw me now? Would she be proud of me? Would she even care?

My body doesn’t particularly enjoy being pregnant, so in retaliation it likes to convince me that I’m on the verge of dying regularly. My feet hurt first thing in the morning? Death. A blemish appears on my cheek while I was sleeping? Definitely fatal. One boob is growing larger than the other? I expect plum hued floral arrangements at my funeral. Due to this I tend to dramatize most situations. Sometimes it’s unintentional, slipping out when least expected, and other times I enjoy doing it just to see if I can get away with it. I think it’s kind of funny. Liam? Not so much.

But most of all I’m scared. I want this to work. I want to be everything that my husband and Cordonia needs. Liam insists that I have nothing to worry about, that I’ve always been enough, but most of the time I’m not convinced. I want to be a good queen, a good wife, a great mom, but I’m just not sure how. How can you be good at something that’s geared to wear you down?

It’s a thought that likes to cling to the back of my mind like sap. It’s constantly there and sticks to everything. And it’s the thing that’s currently causing my face to scrunch up like I’ve swallowed a particularly sour lemon when Liam walks into our room.

I’m laying in our bed with a wall of pillows barricading me from the outside world, watching Pride & Prejudice on repeat. I tend to doze off at certain parts so my logic is to keep watching it until I’ve see all the parts I’ve missed. Mr. Collin’s face invades the screen when I scoot myself up into a sitting position, my back pressed against the frames headboard.

I’m watching Liam silently as he circles around the room, unbuttoning his coat and slinging it across the back of the mahogany desk chair, removing his vest followed by loosening his overly expensive cufflinks. It’s become a routine; me witnessing him transform from King Liam, polished and beloved ruler of Cordonia, to Liam, my adorably dorky husband, every night.

He shrugs out of his shirt, exposing his broad shoulders and firm stomach and I let out a low whistle, causing his head to snap up in my direction.

“Hot,” I say while wiggling my eyebrows suggestively at him. A dazzling smile brightens his face when his gaze meets mine and my breath catches in my throat. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way Liam looks at me. Once, a long time ago, it terrified me that someone could look at me with so much need. So much admiration. It still scares me, even now, but in an elevated, peppy sort of way. One that makes my lips quirk up and my heart rate skyrocket. I never thought I’d deserve a look like that. I never thought I’d deserve him.

Liam walks over to the bed to press his lips chastely to mine. The mattress dips as he leans over me. “They missed you at dinner,” he says as he pulls back slightly to look at me.

I blow a rogue hair away from my face. In a fit of hormonal rage I’d chopped off most of my locks until they sat in messy strands atop my head, much to Bertrand’s horror. “You look like the top of a mop head,” he’d told me. Most days it refused to sit flat no matter how hard the royal stylist tried. And she tried very hard. I didn’t care. I liked the wild look it gave me. I liked how every “reputable attire” was ruined by my spontaneity.

“I got tired of people talking to my belly button,” I tell him while picking at an invisible hangnail. “I don’t know who decided that it’s a cute thing to do but it really isn’t.”

After discarding something onto our ridiculously gaudy dresser, he crosses the room to crawl up the foot of the bed, his arms braced on either side of me, supporting his weight, as he skims his mouth up my swollen stomach. I shiver.

“Your beautiful mother doesn’t like the attention you draw to her,” Liam says into my abdomen, his warm lips brushing against my skin with each word. It’s distracting and causes scandalous images of him sated and spent beneath me to flash into my mind. Sweat clinging to his powerful frame, blue eyes hooded with desire, smooth chest heaving heavily, handsome face tensed in the best way. He should be naked. Why isn’t he naked? Why do I have to resemble a giant hippo?

Liam meets my eyes then, giving me a teasing look and I comb my fingers through his hair, untidying it. I tug gently in retaliation. Wiseass.

“Well it’s cute when you do it,” I mumble, and it’s the truth. I love how much he’s enjoying all of this. I love how his look alleviates whenever he sees me. I love how boyish and carefree and happy he is. It makes it all worth it, every moment.

His smirk broadens as he kisses the stretch of bare skin fondly. “How are you feeling today, my love?”

I consider his question for a moment. “Like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.” Liam blinks at me wordlessly and I almost laugh at the lost expression on his face. “Like an oversized grape,” I try again. “I’m beyond ready for her to be out.”

“Her?”

I hum. “I’ve decided it’s a girl.”

“And why’s that?” Liam asks, resting his chin on my belly to give me that intense look.

“It’s the universe’s way of getting payback,” I explain while tracing my fingers over his face. Brushing over his eyebrow, painting down his stubbled cheek, thumbing against his lips. “I’m not the world’s… easiest person.”

“No?” Amusement dances in his gaze.

“Shockingly. So what better way to get even than force me to deal with a miniature version of myself.”

Liam kisses the inside of my wrist, digits fiddling with the wedding band around my finger, before dragging his mouth along my forearm. “I don’t see that as payback. I happen to like how you are.”

I snort. “How comforting.”

“Does this mean that she will also look like you?”

I freeze. My hand stills its journey over his temple as I wordlessly assess him. He meets my look curiously, pale hair curling endearingly over his forehead and I have to resist the urge to reach up and dishevel it further. Usually so put together, it’s rare to see him this disorderly which makes me love it even more. I twist the rebellious piece between my fingertips and tug it down so it reaches the bridge of his nose. He smiles shyly up at me. “No. She’ll look like you,” I tell him. I’d want our daughter to be beautiful like you.

He presses his nose into my skin and I shift forward, coaxing his face closer to mine when there’s a sudden kick to my ribs. A nervous twitch. A tumbling motion. I yelp, looking down. Liam laughs.

“Someone’s feeling spirited. I wonder where she gets that from,” he beams as he places both hands over my stomach while my belly twitches, smoothing across my ribs and down to my hips.

“She couldn’t be cooperative for just a few seconds longer?” I grumble which makes him laugh again and I can’t help but return his grin.

I’ve noticed that Liam has two kinds of smiles. There’s the one he presents to the public. The one he purposefully uses to emphasis his charming persona, to sway the hearts of hundreds of strangers. To solidify unions and craft agreements. It’s the one he practices the most, regrettably. And then there’s the smile that bleeds too much joy to be anything but genuine. That opens him up like a book, all his thoughts bare and out on display. The one that feels like a gift when you receive it. One that makes you feel so undeniably important.

In this moment I know the one that slips onto his face does so without any restraint from him. It’s too real, too content, to be a creation of The King Liam. It’s just the man I love, feeling the movements of his baby and smiling.

[kissmetae]

Smitten

X Taehyung

AU: Artist!Taehyung | Your boyfriend happens to be the renowned painter and photographer Kim Taehyung. The two of you meet a few years ago at the exhibition center you worked at and he immediately became extremely found of you and tried all in his might and power to have you fall for his charm, which of course was easier done and just as easily said.

One day when you were with him at his studio he got the courage to ask you to pose nude for him and for him to paint using your body as his canvas…

You accept on one condition… that you get to paint on him too.

SMUT | 6k | x reader

Disclaimer: This is fiction. Actions and events in these stories are often exaggerated and to a certain degree unrealistic.  Please have this in consideration when reading fiction, especially if it includes sexual content.

Rating: MATURE | sexual content, unprotected sex

A/N: Shoutout to kooksluv who gave me the idea for this a while back

You were seated on the wooden floors with your legs crossed and a warm mug in your hands.

Fuzzy socks were keeping your feet warm and protecting them from the wet paint splashes here and there on the floor.

Across from you was your boyfriend, holding up a vintage camera in his delicate hands.

“Your tea will get cold.”

“I just need to take one with this camera too.” He said eagerly.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip form your cup and he took another photo.

“Ok, now I’m done.” He chuckled and stood up and put his camera back on his desk.

You liked spending time in his studio and he seemingly liked it when you were there with him too. You’d pop by every now and then to keep him company.

He sat back down on the floor and grabbed his own mug and had a sip, looking up at you between long lashes while the hot beverage soothed his throat.

He was wearing an oversized white shirt covered in paint splashes that he had purposely caused to it to make it unique. Paired with it was a pair of distressed jeans.

His studio was large and spacious and half of the walls were decorated by red bricks. The ceiling was high and there were huge windows looking out over the city. Scattered around the space were various supplies and set ups.

Your boyfriend Taehyung was an artist and photographer and thus he spent many hours in his studio every day and sometimes he could be so into what he was doing that he’d forget the concept of time resulting in you having to come pick him up and drag him home so he wouldn’t lose his sanity.

But sometimes you just grabbed something from the café around the corner and brought it up for him to keep him company for a little while.

You worked part-time at the exhibition center and that so happened to be the place where you meet a little over three years ago.

He loved taking photos of you just as much as he loved having his own pictures taken by you. Getting to help you and teach you his passion closely and with plenty of excuses to touch your hands and your body made his heart feel warm.

“I have something I’d like to ask you…” Taehyung suddenly said, interrupting your drifting mind and grabbed a piece of the cinnamon bun you had brought for him.

“Go ahead.”

“So, you know how you’re my muse…”

‘Muse’, it was a word he used for you often but it always made you blush just as much as the first time.

“Yes?” You smiled shyly.

“Have you ever thought about posing for photography…”

“Oh, Tae-baby you know I’m not good at posing-“

“Nude.” He interrupted.

“Nude?” You repeated, surprised.

“Yeah… naked.” He swirled the tea around in his mug, distracting himself from the flustered feeling he got from asking.

“No I- I’ve never really thought about it but…”

“You have a beautiful body.”

You looked down and giggled, smitten by his words.

“I’d know, because I’ve seen it naked at multiple occasions and in its most beautiful state.”

“And what state is that?” You asked

“Aroused.” He said boldly and raised his brow in a flirty manner.

You began to cough lightly as you swallowed your tea weirdly, making Taehyung laugh.

He was sitting leaned back and the look on his face was slightly intimidating.

“Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to model for me, if you’re not comfortable it’s ok. I won’t put out anything you don’t want me to show or that I don’t want the world to see for that matter.” He chuckled. “Some things are for my eyes only.”

He pulled a hand through his hair nervously.

“What’s your vision?” You asked with an interest sparked.

“My vision is you, and a nice set of course, simple and minimalistic. I also want to paint on you.”

“Paint on me?”

“Yes, your skin would be my canvas.” He smirked.

“Only if I can paint on you too.”

“Deal!” He called out, excited. “I want some nice photos just for us too…”

“Just for us? I like that.” You smiled, tilting your head to the side.

“Should we say tomorrow then?” He suggested.

“Why not, but now I’m taking you home.” You said and stood up.

Taehyung looked down in defeat and held up his hand for you to grab. You caressed his hand gently and pulled at it to make him stand up.

To your surprise Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist as he stood up and lifted you up, making you squeal and giggle.

“Taehyung! Put me down!” You laughed.

“Not until I get a kiss! I’ve missed you today.” He pouted.

“I can’t reach your lips from up here!”

He lowered you back down on your feet, keeping his hold tight around you.

He puckered his lips cutely and you kissed him gently. He kissed you back a second time, lingering passionately against your soft touch before pulling away with a satisfied grin.

He grabbed his coat and yours, handing it to you and you then escaped his studio together.

The snow was falling down lightly outside as you headed to your car that was parked outside.

The ride home was short and you were behind the wheel. There was something special about driving through snow. It was as if the world was suddenly a lot calmer and more peaceful, like the snow had brought a certain serenity with it.

The evening sky was fading darker by the minute and when you finally parked the car in the garage the sky had turned almost pitch black.

The two of you shared a penthouse apartment in one of the fancier districts in town. So to put it humbly, it was going quite well for Taehyung…

At the time you had met you were working full time at the exhibition center and you were in charge of a lot, one of the many things being Taehyung exhibition which meant the two of you had had a lot of contact with each other in order to plan the exhibition together. You had clicked almost right away and Taehyung had become awfully profound of you, always requesting for you to be in charge of his next exhibition and inviting you to each and every one of his events; auctions, parties, grand dinners and launches, you name it.

He was deeply smitten by you.

He’d show up on the calm days at the center to “have a look around.” Always stopping to talk to you or ask for you.  After one of the opening ceremonies for his then recent new collection of art he had approached you afterwards and bravely asked you if you’d like to celebrate with him in privacy, just the two of you, indirectly asking you out for a date.

Back then he didn’t know how to handle the whirlwind of his flustered emotions well around you. He brought you gifts… expensive ones. They were hard to accept and you were stuck in your working mindset and thought you’d get in trouble for accepting such a gift in case it would be passed at accepting bribes… but you weren’t working when you were out with him, neither was he.

You were spending time in private and getting to know each other…

What others didn’t know wouldn’t harm them but today it was a well-known fact that you were Taehyung’s partner.

He mentioned you often as his muse even in media, something you felt greatly shy about at first.

And the speeches…

“and thank you to my beautiful partner in crime who always supports me and inspires me.”

You always giggled at the thought of those memories.

Another big memory you had was of his grand confession. You liked to call it grand to tease him but it was indeed such for you. It was a sunny spring day and you had been on numerous “indirect” dates and they had gradually become more and more flirtatious to the point where you were head over heels for him.

He’d always bring his camera with him when the two of you were out and you didn’t even want to know how many candid shots he probably had of you in his camera by this time.

On the day of his “grand confession” he had brought you to a sky view restaurant, not too far from his old studio he had at the time. After the dinner you had walked to his studio because he wanted to show you something quickly, an opinion on his on-going project you assumed.

As you walked down the street his hand had done the movie typical thing and brushed gently against yours, testing the waters before committing. You brushed back against his fingers and his fingers intertwined with yours.

He had planned it beforehand.

In his studio was a white canvas with Polaroid pictures glued to it, each one with a letter scribbled on them and spelling out “love you” with a clear space left for the missing “I” Polaroid to complete in the sentence.

It might have been cheesy… but he handed you a polaroid camera and asked you to take a photo of him while he jumped.

The photo turned out really cute with him mid-air, hair in a mess and a wide smile all while trying to make a heart with his arms. The polaroid developed and he scribbled an I on it, beneath the photo and then handed it back to you.

“Can you glue it on the canvas for me?” He asked and handed you a glue gun as well.

He suddenly disappeared out of the room and you went to glue on the Polaroid. When you looked closer you noticed how the Polaroids for Y, O and U were all candids he had taken of you… Your suspicion was of course on an all-time high but your mind didn’t want to acknowledge the completed piece.

“What do you think?” He asked, appearing behind you.

When you turned around he was shyly holding a single rose.

“What’s the meaning behind it?” You asked, despite being able to figure it out, but you needed for him to let your mind acknowledge it before you could set your reaction free.

“You completed it… like my heart.”

You looked down with a wide grin, covering the lower half of your face with your sleeve and grabbing the rose he held out for you with the other.

The tint on his cheeks matched the flower.

“I love you.” He confessed boldly, with a faint hint of heart felt desperation. “I want you to be mine, I’m already yours, even if you don’t want me, I am yours.”

With a sudden rush of courage you dropped the rose on to the floor and his eyes followed it as you in the very same moment took a step towards him, placed your hand by the side of his neck and kissed him.

His hand immediately moved to your sides and pulled you closer, kissing you back with full force. You could feel how he relaxed into relief when your lips softly caressed his. Something he had wanted to experience for so long…

After that he had refused to have you away from his side for longer than a day, something you didn’t mind… He was a needy lover to say the least. You became his right hand and joined him on each and every trip he had, with you natural skill for planning and organizing you became a great help in his career and Taehyung began to feel bad about having you do all these things. You didn’t mind but suddenly Taehyung sat you down in the office of his studio and insisted that he would pay you.

“You’re the love of my life, not my assistant. I’m going to go crazy otherwise, just let me pay you for the work, please.”

You couldn’t accept the fact that he wanted to pay you for you just helping him organize his life a little, it was nothing near what an assistant would do. But he was stubborn enough to have you settle half way. You began to work part-time at the exhibition center instead so you could dedicate more of your time with him, something Taehyung gladly approved of.

It made it a lot easier for you to be able to join him on his bigger trips then as well. For Taehyung he of course wanted his love and muse by his side at all times.

“I feel incomplete without you!” He had cried out once, mentally drained from working too hard and forgetting the fact that he was a functioning human being who had needs to be maintained such as sleep, fun and hunger.

It was what made you finally accept his plead.

You were at work late, preparing and planning for the exhibition center while Taehyung was growing more and more lonely in his studio, missing you desperately.

“Baby I know I’m annoying, I know I’m needy and demanding! But I- I just can’t help it! Baby I tried… I tried so hard… please come here.” He had cried over the phone. “Please just come here…”

Hearing him this upset was heartbreaking and you left right away.

When you arrived at the studio he had almost thrown himself over you.

“I’m sorry.” He cried.

“Tae-baby have you had anything to eat? You look exhausted!” You grabbed the sides of his face, examining him. “Your under eyes are so dark…”

He sighed and sniffed.

“I can’t sleep.”

“That’s it.” You yelled. “We’re going home and you’re taking a week off at the least.”

“A week?”

“At least!”

You grabbed his hand and practically dragged him out of there.

That week off had been something he needed more than anything, especially since after that the two of you would be heading to Oslo for a business trip.

–

You crawled up to Taehyung who was lying next to you in bed. You placed your head on his shoulder, nuzzled his neck softly and rested your hand on his broad chest while his hand caressed your arm.

“You know I’m really grateful that I have you in my life right?” He whispered

You nodded against his neck.

“I love you.” You said.

“I love you too.” He let out a tiny chuckle.

“I’m thinking about what I should paint on you tomorrow.” You said, looking up at his face and drawing circles with your finger on his chest.

“I have some ideas for you.” He said with a smirk, still moving his hand up and down your forearm soothingly.

“I’ll draw a penis on you.” You joked.

Taehyung snorted.

“Where though?” He asked

“The back?”

“You have my entire body as your canvas.” He reminded. “And I have all of yours.” He lowered his voice and gripped your wrist, pulling your arm across him and suddenly rolling over on top of you.

Innocent wide eyes looked down at you before you were suddenly kissed.

His hands moved up your arms and pinned them above your head. His lips hungrily kissed you and he got short of breathe.

He pulled away.

“You’ll look so beautiful when I’m done with you.” He whispered with a wide grin and began to kiss down the side of your neck.

–

After a shower and breakfast you began to prepare to leave for the studio.

You found Taehyung snooping around in your closet innocently.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked. “What if I’ve hidden early Christmas purchases in here.”

“I didn’t touch anything!” He smiled and raised his hands. “I was waiting for you to find me here, I want to pick out something for you to wear…” He said shyly.

“Weren’t we going to be naked?”

“Yeah, but I want to take some photos in underwear too… if it’s ok.”

You walked past him and opened one of your drawers.

“All of these have matching sets.” You said and gestured at the numerous bras in the drawer.

Shy hands began to look through the various pieces until they stopped and picked up a black lace bra, embellished with tiny crystals. You went to pick out the pieces you knew matched it and the panties for the set.

“This is the full set.” You said and held out the clothes for Taehyung to look at.

“Are these socks?” He asked and felt the fabric of your mesh thigh high socks.

“Yes.” You nodded. “They have lace at the end that’s similar with the rest.”

His eyes moved from the clothing to your body as if he was trying to visualize them on you.

“I like them.”

You packed all your stuff up into a little bag and headed for the studio.

–

Taehyung was busy setting up his set while you got changed.

He himself was wearing black fitted slacks and a loose fitted turtleneck sweater.

You heard him put on some suitable music out in the main room and you bent down to adjust your socks slightly before you walked out of the office.

His hands were working on the camera settings but when he heard you walk in you instantly had his full attention. He smirked at you and bit his lips.

The music of choice was calm jazz music.

Not a surprising choice in the slightest.

“How do I look?” You asked and spun around.

“One side of me wants to say beautiful but the other wants to say lethally sexy.

He had you lie down on his sofa that he had moved to in front of a back drop.

The sofa was made of red velvet and had golden details.

“Let one arm hang off of it.” he directed and took a test photo.

“Now think of me naked.” He said, making you laugh.

“Beautiful.”

He was a natural.

He got a bit closer and dragged his right hands up your thigh, his fingertips almost barely touching your skin, so lightly.

“Can you put your finger in your mouth…”

He suddenly got on the sofa himself, standing on his knees over your legs and taking photos from above.

He caressed your abdomen, placing his hand low and stroking you upwards, moving his hand towards your breast and taking a photo of his hand on your body.

You giggled at the tickling feeling.

“Have you done this before? You’re so relaxed with me touching you.” He teased.

“Your touch reminds me of the touch my man has… he is just as delicate”

“Is he?”

“He is… but he can be rough when he wants to…”

He chuckled.

“Hold this dear.” He said and handed you his camera.

He suddenly grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it up and over his head, exposing his honey smooth skin.

“This is going to be tricky to do only two, but that’s the charm of it.”

He climbed off of the sofa and brought his sweater with him, removing it from his little set. He returned with a tripod and took the camera from you, placing it on it.

He aimed the camera towards your waist.

“I want some artsy close ups before you take your clothes off.”

He had a little remote in his hand and suddenly climbed back on to the sofa.

He leaned down on top of you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and grabbing your waist firmly.

“Grab my hair.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair and he clicked the button on the remote in his hand that was hiding by your other side, making the camera take a few faceless pictures of you two, with only your bodies on each other and his hand holding on strongly to your waist.

You ended up making out on the sofa and Taehyung dropped the tiny remote, distracted by your touch and taste.

He pulled back out of breath and got off the sofa.

“Take your clothes off.” He panted.

You followed his instructions and he started taking even more photos of you, but with you nude in front of him. The cold air made your nipples harden slightly.

After a few more photos he suddenly tossed his sweater to you.

You half-heartedly concealed yourself with it as he took even more photos.

Seemingly he enjoyed using himself and his own things as props.

“One last one and I’ll get the painting supplies out.” He encouraged and handed the camera to you.

“Take some close ups of my lips.” He said and sat by your side on the sofa.

His “visions” were surprising and this wasn’t an exception.

His hands grabbed your sides and leaned down to place a kiss on your nipple. Distracted by the action you forgot about the camera in your hands.

It was easier said than done to not accidently hit him with heavy piece of equiptment.

He suddenly took your nipple in his mouth and began to suck on it gently, causing your heart beat to go unsteady.

You managed to take a few photos of his lips while trying to remain steady.

He pulled at your nipple with his lips slightly before letting go with a light smack, causing you to inhale sharply.

He took the camera and sat back up like nothing.

Wasn’t he realizing that this was turning you on?

You squeezed your thighs together gently.

Without a word he got up and put the camera back in its place and disappeared into one of the other rooms.

You sat back up straight in the sofa and watched him return with a bunch of brushes and paints.

He placed them down on the floor and went back to get some more.

You moved to go sit by the brushes and paint on the floor and Taehyung returned with a few more paints and a blanket over his arm.

He put them down among the rest and laid out the blanket over your legs.

“You’ll get cold.” He said and sat down opposite of you.

“What about your clothes?” You questioned.

He looked down in shame.

“That’s right…”

He stood up quickly and began to unbutton the button and pull down the zipper when you noticed the straining against the fabric.

“You can’t expect me to not react…” He mumbled shamefully and pulled his pants and boxers down, revealing his semi-hard cock.

He sat back down again and reached for one of the paints.

You helped him pour out some of each and every color he had selected on to a tray.

“Turn around.”

The bristles against your back felt relaxing and the cold sensation from the paint gave you tingles as he dragged a long stroke down your spine

”Does it feel nice?”

”Mmm” you hummed

He drew another line across your shoulder blades and you closed your eyes.

You suddenly felt the brush poke softly against your cheek.

”Don’t fall asleep.” He chuckled, now in front of you.

The tip of the thing paintbrush in his hands stroked across your nipple and a strong hand grabbed your breast.

He began to draw carefully around your nipple, concentrating deeply.

“You look so handsome when you’re drawing.” You pointed out, making him smile.

He reached beside you and dipped his brush into some more paint.

You got a sudden urge to kiss him but you didn’t want to move and ruin his work.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

He pulled the brush away and looked up at you with wide eyes and a confused innocent expression.

You leaned down and kissed his lips and he smiled widely, resorting back to his painting.

The way he was sitting made it hard for you to paint on him at the same time but you quickly got another idea of what you could do instead.

You grabbed one of the unused long brushes and began to draw slow gentle strokes across his cock.

“You’re going to make it worse.” He chuckled.

“Make what worse?” You asked innocently.

“You know what you’re doing, you can’t fool me.”

The brush moved delicately over your nipple again and he let go of your breast.

He put the brush down and grabbed your wrist.

“We’ll fuck later, don’t make me need you sooner.” He giggled. “Now draw on me instead.”

You dipped the brush into some purple paint and asked him to turn around.

The first stroke, you touched the cold paintbrush against the very top of his neck and pulled it slowly down and across his right shoulder.

The cold touch gave him a few goosebumps.

You drew the brush down his back and began to make a pattern with purple, baby blue and white.

“It feels so nice.” He sighed.

“Is it relaxing?”

“Mmmm”

“What did you say we’d do later?” You asked and dipped your brush into more paint.

“Nothing.”

“I sure remember you said something…” You teased and dragged the brush down his spine.

He shivered.

“Go out for a romantic dinner?” He teased back.

“That too would be nice.”

You dragged the brush to the side of his waist and down over his hip.

“Turn around.” You ordered.

He carefully moved around and you pressed one of the bigger brushes against the middle of his chest.

“Red?” He pointed out.

“I’m making a heart.”

“What did you make on my back?”

“Art.”

He laughed.

“Of course.”

“I call it art on art.”

“By art.” He filled in, making you giggle.

It was Taehyung’s turn again and he asked you to stand up for him. He moved close to your left leg and began to paint up the side of your thigh.

Things were going to turn dangerous from now.

His free hand travelled up your inner thigh, for support first until he suddenly moved his hand even higher. He tried to conceal a deviant smirk to little success.

He dragged one of his fingers up your slit, making you squirm at the sudden touch.

“Stay still.” He said, acting like if hadn’t just touched you.

The paint brush moved to the front of your thigh and without warning he suddenly slipped on of his fingers into you. You almost lost your balance and had to grab on to his hair.

“Stay still baby~” He sang, curling his finger.

You whimpered.

“What’s that?” He asked innocently, focusing on his pattern.

“T- Taehyung please-“

He slid in a second finger and you tensed your thighs.

“I thought that was what you wanted.” He teased and pulled out. “I’m all done.”

He had painted a matching floral print that travelled across your back, thigh and breast in charcoal black paint.

He had you stand sideways against the wall, twisting slightly to show how the pattern appeared in various areas on your body while he took numerous photos in different angles. He took a few close ups of each piece and then handed the camera to you for take of your creation. The heart was something you had drawn just for fun at first but it actually looked really cool when he was the camera, head tilted to the side slightly.

He turned around, showing off his broad back to the camera.

The pattern you had made of the colors all came together in the shape of a pair of wings and you were very proud of it. The purple was the main color in the middle and you had traced a long line almost like a ribbon from the wings that travelled down his spine and to his hip.

“Can I see?” Taehyung asked, curious of what was on his back.

You handed the camera to him and he scrolled through your pictures with a wide grin.

“It looks great!” Another click and he made it to the photos of you and you got to see the full piece on your body.

“Wow!” You expressed.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s so pretty!”

He smiled, satisfied. He clicked through a few more of the photos.

“Fuck, you look so good…”

He was getting distracted by the photos.

He turned the camera off and put it down on the sofa.

“Are you ready to destroy the pieces?” He smirked, walking back towards you by the wall.

You could hint his intention…

But before you could respond, his arms wrapped tightly around you, pushing you back against the wall and attacking you lips.

Your fingers dragged through the paint on his back and his hands smudged the pattern on your thigh as his hands moved down to pick you up.

You jumped up on him and he carried you to one of his tables without breaking the kiss. He knocked over everything on the table and put you down on it. There was paint on his face from your hands and he crawled up on top of you on the big table. He moved your leg to over his hip, smudging the paint even more as his hand moved down your thigh.

He moved closer.

Gently, he began to grind against you, his thickness rubbing against your wet slit, spreading it apart ever so slightly.

The red paint on his chest smeared over you, ruining the detailed pattern around your nipple.

He slammed his hands against the table on either side of your head, pushing himself up and pulling away from the kiss.

His hair hung lightly around his face as he looked down at you.

You could see clearly in his eyes and expression how turned on he was.

Lips parted and eyes filled with lust.

He leaned down by your ear, still out of breath.

“This is so fucking hot.” He whispered.

He nuzzled your neck aggressively.

“Do you want me baby?” He groaned.

“Y-yes, I want you… so bad.” You panted.

“My princess gets whatever she asks for.” He kissed your jaw.

“She wants you.”

“What does she want me to do?” He nuzzled your neck again. “You have to tell me what you want me to do to you sweetie.” He chuckled.

He loved it when you begged for him.

“Do you want me to kiss you some more hmm?” He suggested and kissed your cheek. “Kisses only!?” He questioned and stopped moving his hips.

“You know where I want you.” You pleaded, dragging your nails soothingly up the back of his neck.

“Say it.” He groaned.

“I want you to fuck me!”

“Fuck you? I only make love.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“But if that’s what you want…” He whispered.

He reached down between you, grabbed his now aching cock and dragged it up and down your slit a few times more while kissing your neck. Each time the tip hit against your clit you could feel your desperation growing stronger, your desires practically screaming for him to thrust into you.

You let out a soft whimper, moaning his name and begging to please just do more, give you more, more of him, more of his touch…

He dragged the tip down your slit a final time before letting it slide into you to your relief.

His hand moved back to the table, pushing himself up to hover above you while he looked down at your face with a serious expression.  His long fringe brushed lightly over your forehead and your head tilted back slightly when you suddenly felt him thrust deeply into you with a loud grunt.

Having sex in his studio was always something out of the ordinary…

His lips found yours again and he moved his hands to the sides of your face, spreading a few strokes of paint across your skin by accident.

His body was heavy on yours, pressing you down hard against the table. He pulled back and thrusted back into you again harder, skin slapping against skin echoing through the space.

He picked up a faster pace and it became harder to breathe with his tongue swirling around your own. You pulled away from the kiss to get a chance to regain your breath and in response he grabbed the back of your thigh hard.

He pressed his forehead against your and began to go even faster, almost brutal.

He was groaning with each breath as he desperately tried to fuck you as fast and hard as he could, driving you insane. Your thighs were aching and your breath was shaking when he suddenly abruptly stopped.

Your heart was racing and your muscles were crying out for relief.

His cock was buried deep and he kissed your lips again, smacking and pecking and sucking loudly.

His cock slipped out of you almost all the way before he thrusted back into you and picking up his brutal pace from before again, pounding into you with no mercy and making you scream out his name loud and clear making the smirk on his lips grow even wider.

He hid his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder and his heavy exhaled tickled against your skin.

He stopped again.

You muscles were pulsating.

His chest was moving up and down rapidly, out of beat to the soft jazz music that was still filling the room.

“I won’t be able to hold myself one more time.” He said.

Neither would you… more than one more time and he’d have you going numb from overstimulation.

“Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” He whispered, followed by a chuckle.

All you could do was nod against his shoulder.

You were holding on to him for dear life, your hands haven completely ruined the painting on his back.

“Can you take it one last time baby? One more, before I cum?” He asked, sounding almost begging on the tone as he began to move his hips slowly again.

“Mmmm” You hummed as a response.

This time he built up his pace, going faster and faster with each thrust from starting off slow and getting closer and closer to his release.

Nails were digging into skin and paint was smudged and smeared all over the table and each other.

He began to moan short and loud with each pounding motion as his climax grew closer and closer and you could feel your pulsating core come undone around his cock again when he thrusted into you with full force and spanked your thigh, triggering your orgasm.

He pulled out without warning, leaving you with an achingly empty feeling.

He reached back down again, supporting himself on his knees and with his lips desperately kissing you as he began to jerk himself off with his hand, moaning against the kiss with each ruthless stroke until his head fell to your shoulder and he exhaled deeply, followed by a shaky moan as he finally released and squirted his load all over your lower abdomen.

Breathless and sweaty he placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

He knew he owed you a big dose of aftercare after this

Carefully, he climbed off the table, landing back down on the floor on quivering muscles. You sat up and Taehyung reached for your hands right away to help you down from the table.

His heart was still racing and he caught a glimpse of your lower abdomen, covered with his sticky mess when you carefully got off the table.

You looked down yourself to see his cum begin to drip down you as you stood back up.

“I really need a shower.”

“Aren’t we both pretty dirty?” Taehyung chuckled shyly.

Taehyung’s studio was a remade apartment so luckily it did have a shower.

“Get in first, I’ll clean up here.” Taehyung said and placed a soothing kiss on your forehead.

Your thighs were aching as you carefully made your way to the bathroom.

Taehyung cleaned up the mess on the table and the wall while you showered and once he was done he joined you in the steam and you helped each other get all of the paint off.

“Was I too hard on you?” He asked shyly, worried.

“Not at all.” You smirked and shook your head.

You got out of the shower, dried off and got dressed again.

Taehyung walked into the office were you were getting dressed as you finished getting your clothes back on.

“We’re going home now.” He said.

“Already? What about your pictures?”

“They can wait, you can’t.”

“Me?”

“I owe you.”

You looked at him with a confused expression.

“Hug you, massage you, cook something, kiss you… caring.”

“Tae-baby…” You sighed sweetly and stroked his cheek.

“You already do all those things, especially caring. Don’t worry.”

“We usually snuggle after sex…” he pouted.

“Then let’s go home and snuggle.” You said and put your arms around him.

He picked you up and carried you out of the office, making you giggle.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Ft. Lauderdale- tryst- part 5- a Halene fantasy!

So every time Helene posts a pic like this- it birthes fic- smutty smutty fic!!

 I have zero idea where this was taken- but it looks sunny- sooo- South Florida it is!

"What're you doing?"

The hula hoop dropped to the floor. She knew this was Harry's room. Would be where he set up his gypsy sanctuary for the day, but her hula hoop had wound up in here, lord knew how, and when she had found it, because somebody had seen it and thought it weird too, she'd noticed the light.

Helene figures that always noticing the light was an occupational hazard. It was really bright in here, lovely, and her hoop was here, and she just hadn't had time to practice in ages, tour was either really busy or entirely boring, and it flipped on a dime, she liked to be ready. But, in effect, she had not hooped or filmed it for her insta in forever. It would make a good addition to her story.

His room wasn't set up, and she thought she had heard a rumor that the boss man, big man, was volunteering or doing something with or for March for our Lives. She had the room to her self.

The movement is familiar and Helene finds that so many things are like riding a bike. Muscle memory turns on, and you go with the motion, and all the rust falls off and bam.

She took a few turns, found her rhythm and her sass and decided she needed a song to make it better.  The scan through her phone found her in the Harry section. Wild Thoughts would be perfect, Harry's version, with that riff to turn to off Mitch's guitar, but there was only the video. She couldn't film and listen to it. Maybe just as a warm up.

His voice, it made her warm all over. Her first poetical rabbit trail was that it was a warm bath. But that was way to relaxing of a comparison. Harry's voice did not relax her, though it did raise her temperature. Maybe that was a better comparisons. It was like a chemical reaction- exothermic. Like making caramel, he was sweet to taste.

Hearing his voice, asking her if she wanted to see him naked was like lighter fluid on the flame of her libido. He was incendiary.

It would make for quite the swivel in her hooping video. Too bad she could only listen and not film.

She had just settled for Shawn Mendez, Particular Taste, and cued up her set up, shook off Harry's deep, depth plumbing question, and found her rhythm when his real voice startled her enough to drop her groove.

Her hoop was weighted, so it didn't make a jingle, more of a thud when it hit the ground.

"What're you doing?" When she turned around he was just inside the door and he walked with a wide stride with a hand at the waist of, was that a towel?

Was he wearing a towel?

"What?" Her gaze hadn't made it to his face yet, she was never higher than his shoulder level, looking at him gave her a crick in her neck most times, and now she was starting from the floor and working her way up. Socks, the high white ones he wore when he worked out. And then his pigeon toed legs and his mole on his thigh. It was just below the hem of the towel, definitely a big towel, a thick one. His hand was at the knot, his fingers down over a suspicious bulge, but he often had one of those, he was a shower..

A grower too if the crystal clear memory she tried to dim wouldn't shut up. It hadn't been that long since, they slept together, but long enough. A couple continents at least. Lots of pictures, too many songs.

"Um, I was, well. The light was good and my hoop wound up in here. And I haven't done a video in a while. I'm rusty." She shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't think you would mind."

"I don't." He hit the t like he was singing it, clear with emphasis. "But I've just never seen you do it. It's really cool." He shook himself a little. "Can we look at the photos from the other night? Since i have your here all to myself."

Deadly dimples, damn.

"Yeah, hold on. I have to boot up."  Helene put her bag down and slipped her computer from its sheath, flipped open the lid. Was glad her habit was to upload everything while she was sleeping after a show. So she had something to show him. Helene felt a little shaky, like she'd been caught out, and ever since their....repeated whatever, She vibes off him. She was never sure if she was reading him for real. Like he was turned on by her or if it was just wishful thinking.

Just because smelling him was enough to ruin her panties didn't mean her effect was as strong on him. If it was, he would probably be sleeping with her more than once and occasionally again.

He must know her attentions were available always.

Helene focused on her iBook, and not how close he was standing to her. Harry had no concept of personal space. It drove her crazy, she loved it.

"last night." She looked over her shoulder at his over sized Head. This was a thing she had noticed about celebrities, their heads seemed oversized, literally. Sometimes, in the worst cases, figuratively, thankfully not with her current employer.

She wondered if it somehow looked better in film.

Harry was tapping at his favorite photos, transferring them to another folder, like she had taught him, wordlessly, and she was bent over to grab her cord.

She swore she could feel his eyes on the back of her legs. Gooseflesh rising up to meet the gaze.

When she looked back, her temperature was up, but his eyes were down, focused on her laptop and the photos. Her job. Why she was here. She wanted to shake herself. Those few nights with him had ruined her. It was one thing to want a taste, it was another to crave the flavor.

She sighed and he looked up.

"You alright?" He asked, a gentle smile.

She assumed this was the American question, not the British. "Qui. I just slept funny last night."

"Doesn't help we have vampire schedules on tour. Are you a morning person or night owl?" He had a lovely friendly smile too.

"I guess I'm more of a night owl. Unlike you, I think by the time I'm up and drinking matcha you have written, checked emails, run..." she rolled her eyes at his productivity, but you had to admire his work ethic. "What are you looking for?" He was rifling around.

"The cord, to get the ones I picked to my phone." He gestured at both phone and laptop and she nodded and got it for him. This time she more than felt his eyes.

He touched the back of her leg. Right beneath the hem of her skirt.

Helene looked over her shoulder at him.

He smirked at her, "you had some lint!" He lifted his hands up by his shoulders. The picture of innocence.

Except she knew better.

Damn him.

She gave him the cord and they flicked through the pictures together.

"Harry, can you give me just a little bit of space! I can feel your breath on my neck." It was so distracting. If he was gonna just tease.

"Sorry," his smile was audible, "I was just trying to see the background on that one, it's hard on the little screen. Hey! Did you notice we match!" God he was such a cute kid sometimes. They did coordinate.

"We do!" She smiled over her shoulder.

"Let's take a picture!" He glee-ed.

It turned out good. She'd keep that one for herself.

"That one picture, can I see it on your laptop again?" He asked, over her shoulder again.

"Yeah, let me," and she sat the computer down and opened his folder, checked the timing again. "Here."

This time, he stood right behind her. Put his hands on her hips to look over them. "I don't like that you can see my dirty clothes in that one, but it's a shame, I really like the picture." He started rocking her hips back and forth against him.

"Harry?"

"I really liked watching you hoop. Your hips move...." he rocked her a little wider. "Is it like this?"

Helene was about to swallow her tongue. "Um, no, that's too much, too big a motion." She contracted the circle, moved just like she would to keep the hoop aloft. "Then you just have to keep the rhythm." She could feel him through his towel, it was a towel, she didn't know if he had boxers on under it.

"Well, we know how well you can keep a rhythm." His mouth found the sliver of skin between her hoodie and hair. His hands were at her hips, under her skirt. Fingers between the cotton and her skin.

"Do I have more lint?" She was a little breathless, but could hear her own grin too.

"Haha!" He bit her jawline. "There was no lint." He caught her mouth and licked her bottom lip, and she felt her panties fall from her knees. "I just wanted to see your skin get all excited again." Then he really kissed her and Helene day down her phone and her laptop to get her hand into his hair over her shoulder.

"So, I heard a term the other day." He murmured between kisses, "a spinner." He lifted her hand and danced her to face him, held her to him, got his hands on her ass. Under her skirt. "Ever heard that?"

"Non," Helene leaned up on her toes to kiss him, save his neck, and felt for the knot on his towel. He did have boxers, she started working on getting those down. Filling up her hands with him. He was hard as a rock.

"It's a term for a petite woman, so small you can spin her on your cock. I couldn't help but think of you....." he groaned at the place she was biting on his neck.

"Yeah, me?" She smiled like his nameplace cat. "I am pretty small. Ughh!" His hands were on the low part of her ass cheeks now, fingers extended between her thighs. His long finger quickly slipped up to his second knuckle inside her. A second finger joined it before she had gotten used to the first.

"Can I try it?" Helene pulled back. Course he could try it, she liked all of the things he'd done to her. He rarely asked, once she'd consented, he went for things, took her places. What did he have in mind?

"Will it hurt?" She bit his lip a little.

"I don't think so, maybe me if I bend my dick wrong." They both laughed a little, that was one of those uncomfortable unsexy things that happened during a fuck. Like queefs.

"Sure, I might like it if it hurts just a little."

"Yeah, I like that about you." He leaned into kiss her and she screamed when he missed her mouth and removed his fingers and grabbed her hips quick to flip her upside down. It was disorienting for a second. A rush of blood to the head. She felt his tongue move through her now exposed folds a second later. It brought her back to reality. Though gravity was still suspended. "Put your thighs on my shoulders." Harry groaned, and when she bore some of her own weight, it was better. He kept licking her top to tail. She was moaning and the uncomfortable blood rush feeling disappeared. But not the rush. Helene could hear herself moaning. This was out of body. He sucked her clit in.

"Fuck!"

He shook his head with the folds of her in his mouth, brought them in against his teeth harder, released with a pop. "Helene, Suck my dick."

Oh, his hard length was bobbing in front of her. She just been really distracted, by being upside down, and his mouth full of her pussy. She licked the tip, the pearly liquid that had collected there. She was lucky it hadn't smeared on her forehead in this position. She may have laughed at that, if Harry's moan at Her follwojng his directions wasn't so encouraging.

She got her mouth around him and moved up and down, made her neck work. She braced one hand on his thigh, to steady herself. She was glad he was so strong and had his arms banded around her hips to keep her up.

This was hot, though she always found 69 very distracting. But Harry ate pussy better than any other lover she'd ever had. And before long, she was having to use her free hand to stroke over him, because she needed her mouth free. "Fuck, Harry, I'm gonna come."

It was the fingers that slid inside her at that moment that did it. She clenched down on the filling digits and he sucked harder until she was squirming. There was nowhere for her to go. He had her powerless in this position. She'd fall if she fought too hard to get the over stimulation to stop.

He didn't, stop, but he gentled his mouth, licked over where she was juicy while her thighs shook on his shoulders.

She grabbed his hips when he started walking. "Shit!"

"That worked." He sounded a bit stunned, she wondered if it was her weight or his erection. "Let's see if we can do the other thing I was thinking about. "Brace your arms out, Helene."

She did as he asked, and felt him rather than saw him sit on the edge of the couch. He picked her up then, at the waist and slid her down to his lower stomach. Helen caught the table in front of her when he brought her weight down.

"This is working nicely!" His voice had never been lower. "The view is....." she imagined he could see everything open and wet from her waist down. He moved her hips up and then her sodden place over his aching cock until she took up the rhythm. She could hear the condom wrapper and wondered where it had come from.

She decided she didn't care and only yelped a little when he used a hand to lift her hips up. "Help me."

She held his cock while he rolled down the sheath.

"There!" He groaned, and brought her hips back down, spread his hands out to open her. "Now, show me how you rock when you do that hooping bit again?"

"Did you like that?" It was more than obvious he did, she could feel the evidence, and hear his groan as she slid the first few inches of him into her. She was soaked, but it was never an easy fit, so she slid up to his tip and down again a couple of times to open herself up. The pop of his head and squish were musical accompaniment to the moans he was panting out.

"Yeah," he barely got the word out, and sucked in a breath before he spoke again. "think that's the first time I got hard over you" he rocked into her. "Was looking at your Instagram to see if I liked your eye, discovered I liked your ass. Which looks amazing all spread in front of me right now. Fuck!"

"You'd have better liked my photos!" She tried to sound stern, but mostly sounded turned out. If this looked like it felt.....

"Almost as much as your ass." He gripped her then, and bounced her up and down. His hand covered her from the bottom of her waist to where his thumb reached her crack. "Loved the way this looked, your little waist and flared hips. I love your ass." He grasped it then, almost a slap, except his huge hand wrapped around her flesh. His thumb landed near her seam again. And then drifted down to where his cock went in and out on the rhythm she had established. She was keeping them both suspended, like she did her hula hoop. He caressed where he was stretching her and both holes flexed. When the tip of his now wet thumb went in where she had been empty, the no man's land ended. Her body plunged into battle.

"Oh fuck Harry!" This was gonna make her come. Him bouncing her ass up and down his nearly too big cock while he fingered her ass.

"That's it, a little more Helene. Take a little more." His thumb went in deeper, but she lost her rhythm and had to grab his knees when her arms collapsed on the force of her climax.

Her awareness came back a second later when both his hands were sweeping up her back. She realized she was sobbing a little when she heard his shushing noises.

"Almost there baby." He stood up then, with her still on him and her legs came down on their own, her toes touching the floor. His knees bent and he pressed down at her neck until her forearms reached out to meet the table. "Relax. I got you."

And then he gripped both hips and took over the cadence until she had to hold the table with both hands.

She could hear herself babbling. God he was such a good fuck, and she felt so small and dainty and sexy. And powerful, taking every inch on him.

"Fuck, yes, fucking fucking me." That was in English.

He was increasing in volume too. And speed. She felt the contraction inside her and his nails dug in a little at her shoulder.

Again, she was coming again, at the bite of his nails, and groan of her nail, and pulse of his cock.

They were both breathing heavy a moment later. He sat down with her still in his lap and Helene realized that while her shirt was tucked up over her tits, they both still had their tops on. He brought her skirt down over her naked bottom half while he wilted inside of her.

"Well, if there was any doubt, I'd say you are a spinner."

"Nah," her brow was wet and she'd caught most of her breath, she looked up at him and bit her lip. "I'm just good at hula hooping."

[needdl]

One Spawn at a Time (Part One)

“The baby was due in T-minus four weeks- not that Tenten was going to let that slow her down.”

and YES this has been up FFN and AO3 for a while but in my defense: whatever

Part One    Part Two

The light from the fire cast a warm glow over Neji’s features, softening them and gently casting the divets in his collarbone into shadow as Tenten nestled against his shoulder, clasping his hand in both of her own and tracing over his profile with her gaze. Hopefully Gai and Lee weren’t paying too close of attention to them, absorbed as they were in getting the chicken cooking over the campfire, because she knew her stare was undoubtedly sappy.

It couldn’t be helped- Neji had woken her from her (now daily) late afternoon nap with gentle kisses and soft touches, plus a snack, and she was feeling very fond of him at the moment.

And also very hungry. Hopefully dinner would be ready soon.

She knew Neji was still a little wary over camping right now, what with her due date being in a few weeks and all, but so far the experience had been nothing short of pleasant. Gai and Lee, normally very extreme in dragging Neji and Tenten into their exhausting physical activities, were more than happy to let Tenten stay in the hammock and read her book (aka nap) while they dragged Neji into white-water rafting or something.

It was a win-win, as far as Tenten was concerned, because she and Neji could go for walks in the mornings after breakfast while Lee and Gai did their own thing, then meet back up with them for lunch. Then they could all relax for a bit before the three men departed to go be manly in the woods (or something). Tenten would nap, wake up to eat a snack, and then be up and perky by the time they came back.

Today the three of them had gotten back a little early, but Neji had spent all the extra time cuddling her in their tent and getting her in a very agreeable and snuggly mood. She pretty much trailed him around the campsite after that, clinging to his arm.

Even when he was building up the fire, which probably was very annoying but he was smart enough not to say anything. Then he had to help her stand up from her awkward crouch on the ground.

Lee and Gai had volunteered to cook dinner, so Tenten immediately plastered herself against Neji’s side in Gai’s ugly two-person camping chair and hadn’t moved since. Every once in a while she tugged him down to kiss him. He seemed pretty all right with it, if his tiny smug smiles and gentle touches to her pregnant belly were anything to judge.

She was in such a good mood that she didn't even mind the touches, which normally made her roll her eyes and grouch a bit when anyone other than Neji did it.

(With Neji she bore it with more grace, given that he was like, the father of the baby and all that. Plus he knew she didn't much like it and limited his contact to non-invasive, short touches. Even so, she usually had to swallow her biting jibes- because Neji was sweet and thoughtful even though he was usually the unfair recipient of her bad moods and he deserved to feel their little spawn moving around if he wanted to.)

Neji wrapped his arm around her and brought his hand around to rest on the side of her tummy. She clasped her hand over his and held it there, smiling softly into the firelight as he dropped his head down to nuzzle her temple.

Lee studiously turned over a few pieces of chicken. “Almost ready!” He announced cheerfully. Gai, digging through the cooler in the car to get out the greens for their salad, cheered loudly in response. Tenten ignored them both, cupping Neji’s jaw in her hand and holding him in place while she kissed him thoroughly and admittedly, rather loudly.

“Please stop,” Lee said plaintively.

A week later (and one week closer to her due date), Tenten was feeling arguably the best she had felt for her entire pregnancy. Neji had helped her shave her legs that morning because she couldn’t reach them any more and he was the best husband in the world, plus a bunch of the baby clothes they’d ordered arrived and were waiting in a package on the doorstep when she got home from work.

She dragged it inside and ripped it open eagerly, then spent the next half an hour sitting in the foyer happily blubbering over the tiny socks and shirts and onesies and pants.

I’m going to have a baby, she thought joyfully to herself, and it’s going to be soft and fat and cute and my baby.

She paused to consider the mess around her, wiping at her eyes with the collar of her shirt. Neji would undoubtedly be anticipating opening the clothes just as much as she had, so she began to fold things back up and put them in the box for him to unveil. He probably wouldn’t cry as much as she had though.

She left the box on prominent display on the kitchen counter, then headed upstairs to change into maternity leggings and an oversized tee. (Bless maternity leggings, honestly.) It took her an embarrassing amount of time to get her maternity pantsuit off and the casual wear on, but hey, she was almost thirty-seven weeks pregnant. The whole “moving around” thing wasn’t easy.

She got back down to the kitchen to start on dinner and absently pulled her phone from her purse to find about ten billion texts from Neji checking to make sure she was home safely.

Oops. As she got closer to their due date Neji had gotten more and more tense about her safety, and it had become his norm to check on her at several key points throughout the day. If she didn’t respond promptly enough, she could practically feel his blood pressure rising.

Luckily he hadn’t called her yet, which always indicated peak worry. She sent a quick text confirming she was home, followed by ‘baby clothes came today! got distracted opening them. srry babe xoxo’

‘I see.’ He responded. ‘How do they look?’

‘so small and cute. it’s ridiculous.’

‘Well, babies are small and cute.’

‘omg u are truly a genius.’

‘Don’t be a smart ass.’

‘why? you gonna punish me? :3’

‘Don’t you make three-face at me.’

‘:3 :3 :3’

‘😑’

‘hehe ❤️❤️’

When no answer was forthcoming, she tucked her phone into the waistband of her leggings and moved into the kitchen to look at what food they had for dinner- but not before snagging a bag of chips and ripping it open as one of many early evening snacks.

After a moment spent contemplating their food options, Tenten started pulling out the things she needed to make xiao long bao. She’d cooked up the chicken-based (part of her always mourned the fact she couldn’t use fatty pork to make up a rich broth, but Neji didn’t eat red meat and she loved him so much that she would sacrifice it) soup broth the night before to use in the next few days, so now she just needed to make up the filling and her dough.

She made the filling first, with a chicken (sigh) and shrimp base. There was a moment that she spent looking at the Shaoxing wine and thinking longingly about having a cold beer on a hot day, but she overcame it and quickly used what she needed and put away the bottle. Better not to think of lost pastimes.

She was just about to start adding the hot water to her flour for the dough when she realized what an imminent mess she was about to make and paused to grab an apron.

Once upon a time, Tenten had one single dark navy apron that fit adequately and functioned well. Then she moved in with Neji, who was a disaster in the kitchen if his meals went beyond chopping up vegetables or using a rice cooker. They’d quickly learned that they needed several aprons, because they had to wash them quite a bit. (He was better at cooking now, thank goodness.)

Also, once upon a time Tenten hadn’t been pregnant and her aprons would go on and stay on with one quick loop and tie. Now it was a whole five minutes to get the damned thing on and tie it well enough to stay on.

The baby kicked at her ribs, seemingly catching her disgruntled train of thought and defiantly proving a point.

Making the dough was a labor-intensive and exhausting endeavor, and Tenten quickly immersed herself in kneading it into perfection.

She was concentrating so hard on the task that she didn’t even hear when Neji got home. He walked into the kitchen after she didn’t respond to his quiet greeting and froze, watching her rotund figure work at the dough.

After a moment, his eyes confirmed to him that yes, Tenten was barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen preparing dinner for her husband. Exactly the image she’d vehemently rejected in middle school and high school.

Tenten swore viciously in Mandarin at the dough. “WHY ARE YOU SO STICKY,” she demanded of it. The dough had no excuse for its behavior.

Neji’s soft chuckle caught Tenten’s attention, and she whirled around, startled. Upon seeing him standing there, her entire face lit up, and the resulting leap in his chest made it difficult for a few moments to concentrate on the excited speech she immediately launched in greeting.

He tuned in again in time to hear her say, “-and I’m just wrapping up with the dough and about to get the steamer ready, if you want to go get changed and then help me fold up the dumplings?”

“Very well. But first-” Neji set his briefcase on the counter and crossed over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss.

A few minutes later, he pulled away and met Tenten’s dazed eyes. “I’m home,” he told her.

She gazed up at him, looking starstruck, then let out a small, almost shy smile.  “Welcome back.”

Another week closer to her due date- it was just a few days away now- and Tenten was over it.

She was ready to have an actual baby to hold and to coo over and to urp on her and to cry all night- she wanted all of it, especially if it meant no longer being pregnant.

She sprawled out on the bed and glared up at the ceiling, absolutely furious over the mere concept of getting up and dressed and breakfasted and going to work.

“Neji,” she said plaintively, “I’m ready to have this baby.”

There was a loud clattering noise from the bathroom, and Neji called sharply, “What?”

She jerked a little at the frantic tone in his voice, then realized what she had said. “Oh-” She half-attempted to roll over a bit to look at him, but gave up fast. “I don’t mean I’m in labor! Just tired of being pregnant. Didn’t mean to make it sound like that, sorry.”

She could hear Neji exhale in a gust. “Ah.”

They were both quiet again for a minute, as Neji went back to shaving and she went back to doing her best impression of a beached whale (at least, that’s what it seemed like to her. She couldn’t even see over the swell of her belly into the bathroom.)

Neji cleared his throat in the silence. “Maybe you should take ma-”

“Nope.” She called back promptly.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to suggest, again, that I take an early maternity leave. I’m not taking maternity leave until I go into labor or a week after our due date.”

There was a soothing pitch to his voice when he next replied. “But wouldn’t it be easier? You hate sitting at your desk all day, you’d at least be able to get up and do other things-”

“I do laps around exhibits with the tour guides.”

“But you wouldn’t have to worry about going to work, you could just focus on resting up and prepping for the baby.”

It was tempting, and Tenten cupped her belly with her hand as she thought it over. There was a hopeful silence coming from the bathroom.

“Eh, nah,” Tenten decided. Neji let out a whoosh of air.

“Tennie-”

“Come over here and help me up,” she raised her arms in the air and flapped her hands at him.

He sighed again, and a few moments later she could see his head over the top of her tummy. He stopped at the end of the bed and frowned at her.

She let her hands fall down to rest at her sides on top of the bed covers. “Hey.”

“Hello.” He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Neither was she, actually.

After a few more seconds of staring at each other, Tenten got a crick in her neck from craning her head to see Neji. She let her skull thump back against the bed.

“So, you’re not going to help me up?”

“I like seeing you stuck on your back like a beetle.”

Tenten let out a loud, startled laugh. “What?!” Neji didn’t make jokes very often, and it always delighted her when he did.

She continued chortling as he smiled down at her, stepping closer to smooth his hand over the tight skin on her belly. He held out his other hand to her and she took it, allowing him to pull her into a sitting position.

She grinned up at him. “That was a good joke.”

“Thank you.”

Tenten leaned over and wrapped her arms around his waist, nestling her head against his stomach and humming happily as he put one arm over her shoulders and cradled her head in the other.

“I like you a lot,” she told him, her voice muffled by his skin.

“I like you too.”

“A lot?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” She mused on it for a few moments, then said, “Then maybe we should get married and have a baby.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll have to ask my wife if she’s okay with it.��

“She probably will be. She seems pretty cool. A total babe.”

His chuckle rumbled in his chest, and she fought back a shiver over the low pitch. “You have no idea,” he told her, smoothing a lock of hair over her back.

He pulled away a few moments later and she pouted. “You need to get ready for work,” he reminded her, looking regretful.

“Ugh, work.”

Neji raised his eyebrows and a keen look came over his eye. Tenten cut him off before he could say anything. “Just because I complain about it doesn’t mean I want to stay home!”

He sighed- he was always sighing, apparently he was too refined to roll his eyes- and was about to speak, so Tenten reached around him to grab his butt.

He choked off rather abruptly, eyes wide, and she grinned up at him. Her hands flexed as she dug her fingers in, enjoying herself immensely (Neji’s butt was unreal. And it was her goddamn right to touch her husband’s butt as much as her heart desired.) Neji stared blankly at the wall in front of him as his cheekbones pinked and Tenten gleefully kneaded away.

After a moment, she leaned over- both hands still gripping his ass- and mouthed at his abs. The muscles twitched, and when she glanced up at Neji’s face through her lashes he was clenching his jaw.

Slowly, she drew her hands around to his front and lightly scratched her nails down his abdomen. Just above the waistband of his slacks, she paused, fingers tracing along the edge, then pulled away.

Tenten stood up cheerfully. “Well, I guess I should get ready for work!” She walked into the bathroom and started closing it with great relish.

She caught a glimpse of Neji through the gap. He was standing still, back ramrod straight, and scowling at the wall.

Tenten grinned and closed the door with a sassy little snap.

The day of their due date, both Neji and Tenten spent their time in a haze, flurrying over any movements from the baby and staying up for the entire night “just in case.”

When dawn came and there hadn’t been a single contraction, they realized that maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea, because now they had to go to work. (And also what if the baby had actually come, or came the next day when they were sleep deprived? They had not thought that one through very well.)

Tenten just pitied anyone who had to interact with Neji that day, because the man got very grouchy without his beauty sleep.

Not that she was much better, but at least she had “imminent baby arrival” as an excuse.

Work was uneventful, which was a mixed blessing because it meant she didn’t have to do anything, but it also meant she didn’t have anything to do.

(It made sense and she’d fight anyone who said otherwise.)

Neji texted her constantly throughout the day, checking in on her and complaining about clients. They had a nice long phone conversation at lunch though, which perked up Tenten quite a bit and hopefully did the same for him.

Still, once quitting time rolled around and Tenten was faced with the option of leaving, she took it quite gleefully.

Rather than going straight home though, she took a little detour to Neji’s building in downtown Konoha and rode the elevator up to his office floor.

Udon looked up at her in slight surprise, but gave her a polite smile. “Hello, Huang-hakase.”

“Hi Udon-san. Tenten-san is fine,” she reminded him. “Is Neji busy right now?”

“Nope, he’s clear for the rest of the day.”

Tenten stopped to lean against the reception desk, propping one hand on her lower back. “Was he in a bad mood today?”

“Er-” Udon had the grace to look a little uncomfortable at gossiping about one of his coworkers, even if it was with said coworker’s wife. “Well, he wasn’t in a great mood, but it’s not like he took it out on anyone, really, except maybe Hatake-bucho, and he usually kind of deserves it...”

Tenten grinned. “Sounds about right. Is it okay if I head in, then?”

“Sure, Huang-ha- er, Tenten-san. Would you like me to notify him at all?”

“Nah, we’ll see how snippy he gets before he realizes it’s me.” She waved to Udon over her shoulder and waddled over to Neji’s office, knocking once before busting the door open.

He was sitting at his desk and scowling, eyes on the computer monitor and pen in hand over some documents. At the sound of the door opening his jaw clenched and he snapped, “What.”

She snorted and closed the door behind her. “So it was that kind of a day.”

He jerked his head up and stared at her in surprise. “Tenten.”

“Yep.” She crossed the room and grabbed one of the chairs in front of his desk, then swung it around to sit next to him. “Teach us to not adhere to our sleep schedule, huh?”

“An unfortunate time for such a realization, given that we are due for a baby any day now.”

She gave him a wry grin and leaned in to kiss him briefly. “Well, I got off a little early today and figured I’d stop by. How were your clients from hell?”

“I’ve had worse, but they were… quite obtuse.”

She leaned back in her chair, linking their fingers together and smiling up at him. “I’m all ears, love.”

Four days after their due date and they were all ready for the baby to be born, including said baby. It had been doing somersaults for a few days and kicking up a storm, and while Tenten loved her little dumpling she was ready for the dumpling not do that anymore while she was trying to sleep.

Her obstetrician had recommended sex as ye old standby for inducing labor, so they’d been having a fun time with that, at least.

In fact, they’d spent the entire weekend, uh, trying to induce labor.

But as Sunday drew to a close and there was still no baby in sight, Tenten’s frustration reached its all time high. She had a rage-filled crying session in her bath that night, furious over the fact that she was unwieldy and had swollen ankles and stretch marks and she couldn’t always hold it in completely when she had to use the bathroom and her boobs were sore and she got shooting pains up her back and she didn’t even fucking have her baby yet, the only reason she went through all of this in the first place.

Tenten scrubbed at her eyes, upset with herself for even succumbing to her frustrations. She could hear Neji quietly moving around in their bedroom outside the bathroom door and made an effort to be as silent as possible, not wanting to tip him off and worry him even more.

After a few minutes of calming down, she grabbed her body wash off the rim of the tub and soaped herself up, then rinsed off and started draining the tub. She did feel better now.

Tenten went into labor a little after 11:00PM that very night.

[secondratefiction]

Fluff Alphabet - Fangs Forgarty

This is incomplete, but I hit a wall about half-way through so for right now I'm just going to post it, and I may or may not come back to it at some point

A = Attractive: what do they find attractive about the other?

• Everything. He's constantly blown away by something about you every day, your smile, your laugh, your tenacity. He fell hard, and continues to do so more and more ever since.

B = Baby: do they want a family? why/why not?

• Yes, at some point, but that's a far off, abstrac concept for now that he hasn't put much thought into... though it has solidified a little bit since he met you.

C = Cuddle: how do they cuddle?

• This boy is a damn octopus, you give him half a chance to get ahold of you if he's in a particularly needy mood and you're not going anywhere anytime soon. Fangs is also very tactile, so as well as curling up around you like an oversized baby koala, he's constantly touching you: tracing along your arm, stroking his thumb over your stomach, nuzzling into your neck, kissing your shoulder, all of it. Just all of it. He just needs love and affection sometimes, ok?

D = Dates: what are dates with them like?

• Neither one of you are exactly flush for cash, so dates are usually simple but no less enjoyable. Sharing a milkshake and fries at Pop's, spend a night on the couch at either of your houses marathoning movies or episodes of whatever show you decided to watch together. Your favorites though has to be when you both just climb on the bike and go, no destination, just riding the backroads for hours.

E = Everything: “you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…)

• "Tu es mi mundo." Its become routine, it's the very first thing he says after he kisses you in the morning. You see him positively melt the first time you reply with, "Amor de mi vida."

F = Feelings: when did they know they were falling in love?

• It was actually rather innocuous: the two of you ended up at his place after school, going straight to his room and hauling him into bed for a nap. Fangs woke up first and you were still passed out curled up against his side, and not the cute kind of sleeping either: Mouth open, snoring, body contorted in weird ways, and hair in some tangled, stringy mess that your hair tie was struggling valiantly to try and keep together. Your only saving grace was your weren't drooling in the moment. Even if you had been though, it wouldn't have mattered because something in him just clicked, and he realized this is exactly what he wanted for as long as he could have it.

G = Gentle: are they gentle? If so, how?

• Usually, not very. You two roughhouse and play fight a lot, and Fangs isn't one to treat you like your made of glass. That's not to say there isn't a softer side that comes out, almost exclusively when you two are alone, especially if one or both of you just need a moment to be loving and overly affectionate.

H = Hand/Hold: how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?

• Like I mentioned, Fangs is very tactile, so if he can he's constantly touching you in some way: hand on your hip, arm around your shoulders, holding you in front of him. As such holding your hand almost seems like an unconscious gesture... He'll be fully involved in a conversation you're having with Sweet Pea, and it'll start with bumping your hand, and brushing his thumb along the back, then he'll drag a couple fingers across your palm trying to pull your hand closer before he laces his fingers through yours, all while seemingly not to notice he's doing it.

I = Impression: first impression/s

• Intrigue on both ends. You walked into your science class to find him sitting in the seat you normally took, which wouldn't have been an issue if you hadn't left your notebook in the drawer of the table last Friday. You stepped up to him, explaining that you needed your book, and he immediately jumped up, apologizing and going to move. You stopped him, saying it was fine and that you just wanted to grab your notes. You made a brief introductions after that before the teacher joined the class and you went to go find a seat.

J = Joker: are they into pulling pranks?

• Occasionally, but they're usually pretty hit or miss and more often or not end up with you ignoring and/or not talking to him, so he doesn't do it too often.

K = Kisses: how do they kiss?

• Fangs doesn't just kiss any one way... There's the quick but loving ones when he greats you in the hallways, first thing in the morning. Hard, fast, almost bruising ones while he pushes you back against the nearest wall or other solid surface. Soft, slow ones when you've been lying on the couch wrapped around each other and not paying attention to the movie you're supposed to be watching. So many different ways.

L = Love: who says I love you first?

• You beat him to it, only because he was too worried about you not feeling the same way  and pushing him away to say it himself

[...]

P = Pet names: what pet names do they use?

• Corazón, cariño, baby, beautiful

[osokaraddict]

Osokara Zine Entries + AN Notes

This is super late but who cares! I wrote for the first time and had lots of fun collaborating with Noriko in the Osokara Zine (please have a read here if you haven’t already!)

I did a total of four entries (ノ°▽°)ノ 

But the Rose was Completely Unharmed Summary: AU - Magic Teacher x Magical Girl; Professor Osomatsu thinks his student is an idiot. His student begs to differ and calls himself the Guilto Warrior of Love™.

Earl Grey, with a Teaspoon of Blue Flowers Summary: AU - Teacup Spirit x Teru Teru Doll; a (not) lonely teacup spirit meets a white spirit by the window.

Rain, with Signs of Drowning Summary: R15 - NEETS;  According to Osomatsu, humans are made out of 80 or 90 percent out of water; Karamatsu thinks his older brother should get his head checked by a doctor.

Matsuno Karamatsu’s Ingenious Plan  Summary: R18 - NEETs; Karamatsu thinks he has a greatest plan in the world; Osomatsu’s head is hurting.

Nori and I also did a bonus entry that missed the deadline. Please have a read if you are interested! (۶•̀ᴗ•́)۶

Feast and Indulgence Summary: R18 - AU - Shuten Douji x Dark!Aoandon; The oni's nature is to pillage, indulge, and feast to their heart's content. This is no different.

And below the cut is author notes of each entries plus a related short snippets that might be fun if you wanted to know more about each world ✨ The author notes are filled with spoilers and mostly safe for work (and not proofread).

But the Rose was Completely Unharmed

I had the most fun writing this... just because I’m always biased to Magical Girl Kara 😳💦 I had problems thinking of Painful Lines of Magic but that’s when Tundrea popped in my head with sunglasses and I was filled with rage🔥 Getto out! I’m writing this with Noriko in mind! Not you!!!

Oso-sensei is seriously infatuated with his student but since he’s in adult, he thinks he needs to be proper. It’s hard not to ogle crossdressing student on all-fours on the floor with pretty blue hair everywhere. He desperately is trying to figure how to get Kara to graduate properly so he can put his hands on his student without guilt in his mind. Hence why this shitty teacher is even trying to teach properly! Amazing!

This story wasn’t actually written together with Nori’s art at all 😌 But when I saw it, I thought it’ll be nice to connect the two, hence the “I will protect you” line. Unfortunately, it made Osomatsu cooler and I’m forever regretting it as he’s just shitty shotacon... Like all mages, Osomatsu’s real age is unknown, though Kara thinks it’s not too far from his own.

Speaking of Nori’s comic, we had a conversation that went something like this:

K: Nori, those magic crystal thingys… will reflect? Right? N: Yeah they do. It's magic (??) K: THEN THEY WILL REFLECT KARA’S PANTIES AND SENSEI CAN SEE THEM ALL THE TIME! N: But Kara is wearing shorts 😂😂 K: ...KUSOOOOOOOOO ( ۶ ༎ຶД ༎ຶ) ۶ MY HOPES AND DREAMMMSSSS

Thus began Oso’s journey to melt the crystal trapping Kara and finally get to see the panties 😔

A back setting Karamatsu has is that his flooding magic is actually really weird in that there shouldn’t be fish and stuff in the water but there is. It’s not transportation magic so then Karamatsu is created them himself...? And maybe this leads to his fate later on...

Also, Karamatsu fell in love at first sight because Osomatsu resembled him, thus a dangerous guilty guy✨ Osomatsu’s real personality is just shitty, pathetic, clingy, and attention-hungry, so Karamatsu decided he will do the world a favour by looking after this useless teacher with immortal RABU. He sees Osomatsu clearly, but at the same time, kissing and even more is the last thing on his mind.

“Heh. I will exchange a hot, passionate baiser with you anytime you wish, my Dear Teacher!” The crossdresser said as he puckered up his lips with sparkling shitty looking eyes.

“Your teacher prefers not being thrown in jail so no thanks~” The teacher replies lazily, not looking up from his newspaper.

“WHY!? Such a handsome guy is offering this bountiful opportunity to you, and you refuse!?” Karamatsu looked at his teacher like his teacher was insane. And he thinks he’s probably right since all those gambling newspaper were probably bad for the brain. "There is no need to hold back. Come, MY DARLING!" He spread his arms with enough enthusiasm for the both of them.

The teacher had enough of his student's pestering and waved his wand to levitate an all-so-conveniently placed plushie to smack it right into the crossdresser's face.

"MUFH!?" A rather unladylike (gorilla-sounding, even) escaped Karamatsu's mouth before he pulled the said plushie off his face. It was kind of an ugly red thing. The crossdresser somewhat remembers this toy to be part of the 'Geruge' set with its oversized tongue and fluffiness. Still, it had a charm to it in that, the more you look at it, the more this red geruge thing start to look kind of cute. "Teacher, where did you get this from?" He couldn't help but ask since it was strange his teacher had this.

Osomatsu shrugged his shoulders. "It was the consolation prize they gave after I lost badly at magick pachinko~ I thought maybe it'll help me attract some boobs so I took it with me but it's too ugly." It did not come in a two-set. And there definitely wasn't a blue one he kept at home or anything. The series did actually have some strange popularity to it, so he didn't hide it until it was detention time or anything.

Really.

The unfair teacher opens his mouth to continue and says, "Go throw that in the garbage can for your teacher, okay? Thanks~"

"T-Throw!?" Karamatsu gasped dramatically like Osomatsu predicted. "How could you throw this Poor Innocent Sheep geruge Boy into the garbage can like that!?"

"Eh~ Cause it doesn't attract girls~" Osomatsu whined.

"And that is why you are the least popular professor here," Karamatsu deadpanned.

"So mean! I've just been hurt and insulted by my student! And the world is cruel 'cause teachers can't insult their students but the opposite can happen!"

Karamatsu didn't pay attention to his whining teacher and held up the red geruge in the air and twirled around. "Fufu~ Now that I look at you closer, you look at bit like Teacher," he laughs. "Since your Master doesn't want you, I shall take you home! Your name is Osogeruge from now on~!"

Osomatsu's heart skips a beat.

"Hey, could you not name that ugly thing after me~?"

"Hmm~? Don't worry, Teacher! I will make sunglasses and a leather jacket that will fit Osogeruge just right and he'll become a GUILTY GERUBOI in no time!"

"NO, PLEASE STOP!!!"

Osomatsu nursed his ribs that almost broke by imagining that red geruge in sunglasses and leather jacket (it was horrible).

"Teacher~" Karamatsu calls out, making Osomatsu looked out. He held the ugly red plushie in his hands before he dropped a kiss on it. "Since Teacher doesn't want my hot, passionate baiser, then I shall give it to this Karamatsu Boy instead!"

"...Okay, you are so getting a second detention and lines on the board! Get back here you shitty crossdresser!!!"

And a few weeks later when Osomatsu actually places a kiss on Karamatsu's forehead, his dumb student turned even redder than his Osogeruge plushie.

"...I think I saw a nostalgic dream," the teacher mumbles to himself. It seems he has fallen asleep even though that was the last thing he had time for.

When he looked up, it relieved him to see his student still there --- even if his student was captured inside crystals.

Shaking his head to clear away the fog in his tired mind, he forced his aching body up. "I'll be off. Be a good student and wait for your teacher until he comes back okay?" He places a smile on his face like nothing was wrong at all.

Tomorrow. The day after. Five years. A century.

In the end, it didn't matter how long it'll take for him. There was something much more important to him than time and his life itself.

"Please wait for me. Just a bit longer."

Earl Grey, with a Teaspoon of Blue Flowers

The ✨CUTEST✨ couple in the world, is thanks to Nori and her wonderful ideas. Incidentally, talking to her about it was enough to make the whole plot of this story, which is why this is the only story with an actual plot! Amazing Noriko power!

I wrote an outline of the story on piece of lined paper and the word limit of 5k was already making me sweat. Supposedly Teacup-kun was going to successfully bring Teru-chan outside and have a picnic. He was going to suffer having to hold hands with Teru-chan the whole time cause the white spirit was too curious of everything ("WHAT IS THAT!! AMAZING~ WOWOW~") and ignorant of all dangers in the world. On one hand, Teacup-kun gets to hold hands with Teru-chan; on the other hand, he was trying to make sure that Teru-chan doesn't get kidnapped by a bird or something 😂 The moment Teacup-kun loses sight of Teru-chan, Teru-chan comes back with the royal osokara round dogs he made friends with. Mini Oso and Kara on top of those round dogs are too cute... 😳

Speaking of this story, Nori and I had a conversation something like this:

N: I had to put fluff in Teru-chan's skirt because he will show his panties (??) K: NORI I THOUGHT WE HAD A DISCUSSION THAT TERU IS SUPPOSED TO HAVE NO PANTIESSSSS ( ۶ ༎ຶД ༎ຶ) ۶

But eventually it's been decided that Teru-chan needed panties or Teacup-kun would be distracted the whole time and wouldn't have been able to make a proper conversation  ;つД｀) Damn you panties...

Incidentally, that royal prince and princess are together and they spend lots of time together... Lots of time. Enough that Teru-chan knows only all the things at night in the two weeks he was made and lived in the princess' room (making Teacup-kun a shotacon✨). The prince is also a shotacon✨ Which leads to Nori's art here of Teru-chan lifting his dress when Teacup-kun had steeled his heart to take it slow so that he doesn't scare his new wife~

It is thanks to the prince that Teru-chan knows the concept of marriage when he knows barely anything else. It is also thanks to the prince that Teru-chan has the 'wrong' image of marriage, so good luck Teacup-kun!

Their end is something like this. It comes unexpectedly, but at the same time no one was truly in the wrong. A nervous new maid, afraid of all the expensive things that surrounded her, felt like she was walking on top of needles. The moment she made a mistake, she was sure she would get fired and end up on the streets since she needed this job more than anything. With quivering fingers, she tried to wipe the multiple tea sets to the best of her ability.

Unluckily for her, the combination of this new environment, her anxiety, and her discomfort and inexperience in wearing her complex maid outfit, she accidentally knocked her one of the teapots and cups she was cleaning.

Even before she heard the sound of porcelain shattering on the wooden floor below, she paled. She panicked – what should she do? Clean up the mess? Where’s the broom? Or maybe they can be mended? She swallowed down the urge to scream as tears slipped her eyes.

Before she realized it, she ran, trying to find her senior maid and ready to confess what she did.

In the next room, there was a white doll dangling by the window. It heard something shattered, and right away, it realized what happened.

He thought heard his husband scolding him to stay away but he didn’t listen at all. He floated down from the window and hurried as fast as his small body can take him. It took almost an eternity before he found the source of the sound – the sight of shattered porcelain. He called his husband’s name, begging for an answer. He knew he wouldn’t receive one, but he still held a small hope.

“Forever. Always.”

Surely that was the answer to everything, so the white doll roughly wiped his tears away. He held out his white dress and used it to collect every piece of the broken cup that made up his husband. Those uneven shards, small and big, eventually cut and tore the white doll’s body but he didn’t care.

He may not be able to hear his husband’s voice anymore but his husband was in these shards.

It hurt. It did hurt. His body cried in pain but his heart cried even more. Even then, despite that, the white doll tried to gather all those parts, almost breaking from the weight.

“…Forever… always,” the white doll whispers to himself. “…to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

But even if the vow they made was until death, the white doll knew he will be lonely in no time. No, he was already feeling so, so lonely like he was trapped in a drawer on that day long, long ago.

That is why, he was sure that his husband will scold him for following all the way to death to see him. Yet that husband of his was always so kind that the white doll was sure he’ll get a hug and a kiss after being lectured.

With such a dream in his mind, the white doll tied up his tattered dress with the shards of his most beloved and crossed his eyes to sleep.

They are later buried together in the garden at the royal family’s wish. It didn’t take long before flowers and mushrooms sprout at the very spot the family buried them. Everyone could take a deep breath of relief. Somehow, they could come to believe the teacup and the white doll will meet again but in a different shape and form.

Always. Forever.

With you.

Rain, with Signs of Drowning

The first proper fanfic I wrote. If you read the rest, you can tell because the mood is actually sombre and serious 😂 It helped that I was writing with Nogi in mind? Probably. Writing is hard desu.

This fanfic was written in Kara’s POV and thus he missed a lot of hints and doesn’t know how desperate Oso is actually is~ But Oso is unfair in that he always wants to be cooler and ‘win’ since he’s the big brother. He wants Kara to drown in him because he doesn’t want to admit he drowned in Kara waaay before. He hides his internal turmoil behind a cocky smile and strips Kara naked with his eyes. But Kara is an idiot and doesn’t think about sexual acts and instead thinks Oso is literally hungry and wants a bite of his flesh 😰 (Kissing and biting must be how Osomatsu endures with his cannibalism urges! And me who lets him... is the true duty of the second son. Bang!! 😎✨)

Oso’s goal is to make it so that Kara can’t live without him.

He’s the shitty type that pulls sweaty Kara dressed in a tank top, really short shorts from the floor in the summer on top of him.

The fan barely relieved the effects of the boiling summer’s heat on him, and now with the added weight on him, it was even more suffocating. Even as his brain shouted it was frying and his lungs only took in hot air to scorch his body, he pressed the body on top of him close so that their skin touched more.

Who knows. Maybe they can melt together and become one like this, he thought with blood rushing down his lower body.

“It’s hot,” Karamatsu complained shortly. No doubt the heat was making the second speak less and without painful words. His eyes said ‘let go of me’ but Osomatsu pretend he saw nothing.

“Then push me off the sofa,” Osomatsu instead pointed out. He knew giving a choice will make Karamatsu stop and use his empty brain to try and think. But that empty brain doesn’t work long and soon Karamatsu will reach a no-conclusion. It took too much to push Osomatsu off, and, at the same time, it took too much will and energy to think of another option. Thus Karamatsu did nothing but lie on top of his older brother with an unamused frown.

Osomatsu just laughed. It was the kind of ugly face Karamatsu had when he just wakes up. The kind of expression he wouldn’t make to his little brothers on purpose at all. It’s not like Osomatsu didn’t feel a hint of guilt; still, he will use whatever he could.

His cute, cute stupid little brother. Narcissistic, kind, painful, timid, slow, airhead, and dumb.

“Don’t change, Karamatsu.” Like a curse. Like a prayer.

Don’t ever bother notice the wrongness of this relationship that’s too immature and depraved to call ‘love’. However, if he had to, Osomatsu would use that cheap, clichéd word ‘love’ Karamatsu liked in place of ‘possessiveness’.

But he’ll only do that if Karamatsu realizes something was off. If that day never comes, he won’t even bother, especially since he didn’t want to give unnecessary information to Karamatsu at all.

‘You don’t have to think, and if someone has to weigh down by this forever then it can be me. ...Cause I’m your big bro.’

“It’s hot,” Osomatsu says instead with common and simple words that his stupid little brother’s brain can actually comprehend and get distracted.

Karamatsu commented back, “Yeah, it’s hot,” not realizing he said the same thing earlier. But before those gears in his head can click in place, Osomatsu slips his hand up Karamatsu’s tank top and shorts to enjoy the bare feel of his little brother’s skin.

This body he forcibly opened up to take him inside remembers his touch and shivers. A small gasp escaped from Karamatsu’s mouth, which Osomatsu stole away.

“It’s so hot that I’m going to die~” Osomatsu complains.

“Y-Yeah,” Karamatsu replies absentmindedly, out of reflex.

Osomatsu bites that tanned throat in front of his eyes and grinds his lust and heat mercilessly without hesitation.

Surely the cries of the cicadas will distract his little brother from remembering how to complain.

Matsuno Karamatsu’s Ingenious Plan

Essentially all the porn I read is Japanese porn, so this 'plot' isn't all that strange if it's in Japanese 😂 I have read some pretty dumb Karamatsu, but I'm sure canon Karamatsu is a bit smarter. I'm also sure my Karamatsu in this fanfic was merely distracted by wondering if he wanted a glow-in-the-dark d*ldo or one that played music (because Ozaki). He is really happy, enjoying the NEET life to the fullest that he won’t survive very long in the outside wrong.

Onii-chan is super worried you know, Kara-chun~?

Hence why Osomatsu did suffer lots through the ages from horror that he gets hardty at the sight of his little brother’s smile to beating up weird guys that ‘invite’ an oblivious Karamatsu to things. Him eating Karamatsu’s love letters like a goat in high school was inevitable as Osomatsu did his best to sabotage all romantic relationships from ever happening. Osomatsu was that annoying older brother that will pop out of nowhere and throw his arm around Karamatsu’s shoulder to interrupt conversations. Once in a while, Osomatsu’s hand drops down to rest down on Karamatsu’s hip in a very possessive way but Karamatsu doesn’t get a thing.

Osomatsu did try confessing his love several times but they all end in failure. One of the cases is: “I LOVE YOU!!” “Heh. I RABU you too, my first BURAZA~😎✨ I am such a sinful guy to be so LOVED by my siblings!! Wowowow~!”

Osomatsu cried.

He would also like to argue that anyone in his shoes would do the same thing if their cute, stupid, sexy little brother comes by with a ruler and asking for your size ‘cause he wants a toy exactly the same.

On the side note, I realize the awesomeness of art drawn by western fandom because of no need for censorship. I GOT NONCENSORED DIKKU AND PEACHES FROM NORIKO WOWOWOW!!!! \(°口°๑)/ \(°口°๑)/

Totty will have lots of fun getting Am*zon to stop showing all those ‘interesting’ recommendations due to his search history. In fact he went and half-killed Karamatsu and then killed Osomatsu because it’s always Osomatsu’s fault.

Osomatsu groaned. His whole body ached and he could have sworn he saw his whole life flashed before his eyes. Actually, it felt like his soul left his body for a moment there?

He turned just his eyes and spotted his little brother, half-beaten up. He wondered why he got mixed up in this mess when clearly it was this idiot narcissist's fault. At the very least, he argued in his mind, Karamatsu should have gotten as beaten up as he did! Except Karamatsu might cry so maybe he didn’t want his little brother as beaten up as he is.

He forced his hand just the tiny bit forward so he could touch his little brother’s hand. It twitched back, which made Osomatsu happy for some reason so he entwined their fingers together.

“Hey, Karamatsu~ Still alive?”

“Heh… I saw Lord Enma and came back,” the second boasted with a similarly tired tone in his voice.

“Really~? And what did he say?”

“He said I looked like his pet snake? And that his ribs might break?? So he sent me back,” Karamatsu answered with confusion.

“Ah, somehow, it feels like I can drink beer with that guy,” Osomatsu mused. Yet, at the same time, he didn’t feel like meeting this Lord Enma dude. There was this shitty vibe to this so-called king of hell even he has never met the guy. Maybe just the pet snake instead.

The first shook his head; he was going off-topic because of the pain when more important things were going on. Osomatsu gripped Karamatsu’s hand tighter, still remembering the feel of his little brother’s skin below him. He faked a cough when he felt heat rush to his face. His heart thumped loud – no matter how many fail tries he gone through, he always felt nervous.

“S-So, Karamatsu~” He almost squeaked.

“Hm~?” The second made no indication he knew what Osomatsu was trying to get.

“S-So… umm… errr… ahhh…”

“What is it, Osomatsu? Do you need to go to the washroom?”

“No, I don’t need to poop!”

“Forgive me. I thought you wanted a shoulder to the washroom…”

Osomatsu mentally banged his head against something. This idiot little brother is horrible at reading the atmosphere when it actually counts. No, he can’t give up like this. He already ate his little brother’s maidenhood, and he's going to take responsibility and get his dreamed lovey-dovey normie life with lots of kisses and sex!!!

“Karamatsu!!” He shouted loudly.

Karamatsu twitched at sudden volume and looked almost frightened. “W-What is wrong!? Are you pooping in your pants after all, Buraza!?”

“No!! The one that does all the pooping in public is Ichimatsu! Or Choromatsu’s head!!”

“Oh, Mistake!! Ichimatsu, just you wait! I will bring the Miracle Lovely Angelic Feather of Harmony for your buttocks right now! Choromatsu, wait for me as well!!” Yet, despite those gallant brave words, this shitty narcissist made no move to get up because he was tired.

Osomatsu swallowed the urge to shout again because he needed to get away from this topic of poop (for once in his life).

“K-K-K-Karamatsu.”

“Hm~?”

“…I stole Totty’s wallet while he was beating us up. Wanna go to pachinko with it?”

“Heh. You can count me in!!”

F-First is a pachinko date, Osomatsu said to himself with a tremble. Small steps at a time! He was a virgin after all! (Except not.)

Feast and Indulgence

The entry that didn’t end up in the zine for a couple of reasons 😂 Actually, to be honest, the whole author note is the after story. Since the deadline passed when I handed it to Nori, she suggested writing Karamatsu’s side when I telling her the backstory to this fanfic. I was like?? (°口°๑) OH YEAH. THERE’S NO WORD LIMIT NOW??? NORI IS GENIUS!

And so I wrote Karamatsu’s side that totally destroyed the mood in the first part (I regret nothing) and now it wouldn’t be complete with it 😂 I didn’t mean to write with a darker(?) tone but I did comedy three times (Rose, Earl Grey, and Ingenious Plan), so for balance, I needed something more serious. As for why it became Shuten Douji x Dark!Aoandon, I wanted it to have ties with all the other fanfiction and Aoandon is perfect as he is the ‘gathering of tales’. Also, I did R18 for NEET so I needed R18 for AU next haha!

Shuten Douji used to be an outcast human child that would later be sacrificed to appease ‘kami’. In their world, kami do exist but they probably don’t care for humans much. If they decided to help out of whim, Karamatsu went and burned down the whole village and surrounding area before they did anything. In fact, Karamatsu probably consumed the surrounding kami and took their power. Before Karamatsu was Aoandon, he was certainly an incarnation of ‘fear’.

Perhaps Osomatsu reincarnated to be an oni because in his mind, oni were strong, frightening and more real than kami. But above all, they can live long, so he can be with Karamatsu for as long as he wants. As Shuten Douji, he was always irritated, starving for something that he didn’t know what, and drowned himself in alcohol. His tough body didn’t let him die easily and he became the head of all oni and soon reunited with Karamatsu once again.

…Well, we all know how that reunion went 😂

In about a hundred years, they will become that calm, loving married couple you see in Shuao! Really!!

Though the day Osomatsu wakes up to the smell of breakfast and sees his wife without the braided blue rope on his horn, he freezes.

Karamatsu frowned, raising an eyebrow like he was daring the red oni to say something. “Sit down and close your mouth before you eat a fly, my dear lord.”

“Eh? But… but your braid,” Osomatsu says, hesitatingly. He looked almost lost like a small child.

The blue spirit merely sighed.

For someone who's always concerned about any past ex-lovers showing up or friends or anything that knew Karamatsu from before they ‘met’, Osomatsu was strangely fixed on that braided rope. In fact, it was the only thing that Osomatsu accepted of Karamatsu's past. The red oni would go on a rampage if Karamatsu suggested that he would go back to his ‘hometown’.

“Unfortunately, unlike a brute like you, a stylish man like myself must keep up with the trends,” Karamatsu said with smirk. “I cannot be wearing the same thing for centuries, you see~? Hm~?”

“Ehhh…” The red oni let out in a mixture of disappointment and disbelief.

To begin with, that braided rope was a gift given to him from his human child friend who passed away long ago. It was important, yes. It was a memento of a past long gone and would never come back.

‘I no longer require such a thing to tie myself to the living world.’

Karamatsu was in love with the present he had now. He loved the past just the same – neither of them were a colour fainter than the other and both were beautiful vivid shades of red. If he could, he would like to gaze those shades of red for eternity.

“If it bothers you this much, my dear lord, then go buy something new for me,” Karamatsu instead says coyly.

Shuten Douji’s eyes brightens and he runs for their closet to rummage for his wallet. “I haven’t used my allowance for this month! I’m going go buy something! Just wait here, Karamatsu!”

“You can have these onigiri on your way down the mountain.”

“Thanks, Karamatsu~!” The red oni munches onigiri in one hand and a spiked club in the other as he hurried down to find the nearest clothing store.

The blue spirit shook his head due to how simple-minded his husband was, but it can’t be helped.

It took a whole day before the red oni comes back, dirty and beaten-up in places, with a big grin. “Here you go, Karamatsu!” He gives his wife an ugly flower he plucked from the mountain on the way up and a ‘present’.

Karamatsu took the present and inspected it. It was a black collar which would  be fastened by the long red braided ropes on each ends. “I would have preferred a skull but… I suppose it isn’t too bad when it comes to your fashion sense, my dear lord.”

Truthfully, it didn’t matter what his lord got him. Karamatsu was happy to get anything.

“It’s my colour this time,” Osomatsu boasts happily.

Karamatsu also came to realize this fact and laughed. “Then will you put it on for me, my dear lord?” He asks before handing the collar back and facing the garden.

Osomatsu took the collar and kneeled down on the ground. He secured the collar around Karamatsu’s neck before tying the red braided ropes into a clumsy bow. “W-What do you think? You don’t mind it right?” The red oni asks.

The blue spirit presses a hand against the black collar, feeling the weight. “Yes. This is mine and mine alone,” Karamatsu speaks with a heaviness that he was sure that Shuten Douji wouldn’t understand now.

“Huh?”

Karamatsu patted his lap and right away Osomatsu dropped on the ground to rest his head on his wife’s lap.

“And? Why did it take so long for you to come back, my dear lord?” The blue spirit asks closing his eyes as he caressed his husband’s hair

“That’s going to be a loooong story,” the red oni grumbles.

“We have all the time in the world, do we not? Tell me of your tale.”

“It won’t be a tale of love that you like but it’ll be a tale of how awesome your husband was!”

“I will keep my expectations low.”

“Hey! I was really awesome this time!!"

Thank you for reading! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ ✨✨

[nancyswhlr]

Hello there! Love your blog❤️ Jancy prompt for ya: Jancy can’t sleep so they go to a diner at midnight (fluffy or angsty or whatever you want!)

The fact I had the idea for months & just got around to writing it now. Wow, I’m truly so sorry it took this long. // + ao3 link

Out of the two of them, she’s not sure who wins in terms of lack of sleep.

It’s better when they’re together, by far, but some nights they’re thankful to get a few hours. Some nights they’ll curl into each other and stare blankly at the ceiling until their bodies pass out from exhaustion.

Some nights they’re not even that lucky.

That’s how Nancy finds herself in Jonathan’s shirt (also known as her sleep apparel) and a pair of shorts riding shotgun in Jonathan’s Ford at two in the morning.

The atmosphere’s heavy, despite the slight breeze from the windows cracked open. But she’s quiet nonetheless, the light carefree feeling that normally surrounds her when she’s with him is dampened. She knows it because he’s exhausted too, and not just physically. He’s tracing small circles with his thumb on the back of her hand as he drives, the other one gripping the steering wheel a bit too tightly for everything to be fine. If that wasn’t a dead give away, the way she can read the look in his eyes is.

Nancy knows she should say something to him. But honestly? He already knows. She feels the same as he does and she’s almost too tired to unclench her jaw and get angry at everything that has happened when there’s nothing they can change. They’ve done all they can do. The lab is closed. The gate is closed. But they still can’t sleep at night.

No, she knows she should say something because she knows how he gets. She’s worried those dark thoughts are going to lead him down a different- equally as dark- road. One that’ll tell him to let go of her hand, isolate himself even more than he already does (which drives her crazy), and convince himself he’s not worthy of her affection.

But no matter how perfectly or carefully she phrases her question, she also knows he won’t budge. And if he does, awkwardly and uncomfortably admit whats wrong, it’ll be with downcast eyes and dragging feet. One step forward and two steps backward if you asked her.

So she doesn’t try. Instead, she squeezes his hand gently, hoping to prompt him out of his own thoughts for at least a second.

“Hey,”

Jonathan looks over to her. Despite the radio and the sound of the wind and the fact the roads are empty at this time, they keep their voices soft. “Yeah?”

Nancy sighs, her eye catching the neon sign before she can think about what she was originally going to say to get him out of his own head. “You hungry?” She asks instead, arching an eyebrow as she gestures to the sign.

Jonathan laughs a little and she considers that a small victory. “Are you?”

“I could go for a milkshake.” She shrugs. “Only if we drink it out of two straws though.”

Jonathan gets a real smile out of that, only because it’s something neither one of them can picture him doing. He’s putting on his turn signal, pulling into the nearly empty parking lot when he replies with a wry smile. “That’s not happening.”

“Please? I’ll even get chocolate!”

He squeezes her hand before releasing it to park, nearly ready to climb out the car. “I’m not in the mood for a milkshake.” He tries to reason.

Nancy rolls her eyes, “Come on Jonathan. Are you ashamed of me or something?”

“No-o,” He almost stumbles over his reply, saying it so quickly. “Never.”

She laughs, feeling a smidge bad for teasing him over his hatred of PDA. It’s a crazy concept to her, considering how affectionate he is when they’re alone. She reminds herself that despite not caring what people think, he’s always been pretty shy. The most she can get out of him at school is hand-holding and a couple kisses gingerly, which is jarring when he pulls her into his lap and nuzzles into her neck so easily in their rooms.

She doesn’t know if its because of her teasing comment or the fact it’s a deserted establishment a whole town away from Hawkins, but he makes sure to grab her hand again as they walk in. Doesn’t let go when he reaches to get the door for her, and out of instinct Nancy finds herself leaning into him more than she normally would and not just because of the still slightly cool spring air.

And the diner is pretty much the same as the parking lot, a couple bystanders in corners of the otherwise normal restaurant. There’s two exactly like this one in Hawkins, but everyone goes to Benny’s to show…support after what happened there. Nancy pushes that thought out of her mind, they’re supposed to be trying to forget the reasons they can’t sleep.

“Table or booth?” A waitress asks them, and she looks no older than her own mother’s age. Nancy wonders if she and Jonathan- her in an oversized band t-shirt and him in his sleep shirt and whatever pair of old jeans he found in the dark about an hour ago now, both in dirty sneakers (although hers do look nicer in comparison) - look like runaways to this sympathetic woman.

She thinks that’s probably all these waitresses see at this hour anyway. Just by scanning the room she can see the customers here aren’t staying for too long, backpacks and worn down outfits as well.

“Booth, please.” Jonathan pipes up for her, and Nancy still feels the magnetic pull to stay as close to him as she can as their led to one. She wonders for a second if she could slide into one side with him, or if that’s too much.

Nancy shakes her head as if to clear her own thoughts. She’s just being paranoid, she tells herself. It’s late, it’s dark out. Jonathan’s the only thing that’s made her feel safe in years, next to the gun she keeps under her bed, that’s why she’s so gravitated towards him.

She sucks it up and scoots into the seat across from him, taking a menu from the waitress. She smiles warmly in return. “Let me know whenever you’re ready, okay?”

They both nod as Nancy focuses on her menu instead of the boy in front of her. She’s not exactly sure what shifted in the few minutes between the car ride and sitting here, but it’s enough to make her feel alert.

“Nance?” Jonathan prompts her, gently. As if he can read her mind, or at least her body language. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Nancy nods, the way she does when everything’s not but she doesn’t want to talk about it. She feels a wave of guilt wash over her, remembering she was supposed to be figuring out how Jonathan was doing. Not the other way around. “Just, uh, deciding if I want to get fries too.”

Jonathan nods, and she can tell he doesn’t believe her. But like her, he’ll never push too far. “You should.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan shrugs. “I want fries.”

She feels herself loosen a little bit, a laugh escape her. “Oh, you’ll share fries with me but not a milkshake?”

“Sharing fries isn’t a horrible cliche done in every single cheesy movie out there.”

Nancy rolls her eyes again, “Seriously? Ever think it’s only done so much is because it’s cute?!” 

He only shrugs, not budging. It’s unbelievable he’s stubborn enough to fight her about this, but also take her to dances and make her mixtapes like every other cliche he’s supposedly against.

Damn is she in love with him. “You don’t think you’re being pretentious about this?”

He shrugs again, this time moving his hands to the tabletop to fiddle with them. “Never said I wasn’t. But, common, that’s like…the worst cliche there is.”

She knows it’s bad. She also knows any other boy wouldn’t give her this hard of a time though. “Fine. Order your own milkshake then.”

“Nancy,” He whines, reaching out as if to grab her hand despite both of hers being tucked in her lap. She can’t help but laugh, arching an eyebrow to see if he’s going to apologize or try to bicker with her further.

Unfortunately, she’ll never know as the waitress comes back to their table, a pen already in her hand. “Are you two ready?”

Jonathan looks at her and she nods, “Large fries and a chocolate milkshake.” Nancy’s sure to put on her sweetest smile as she tacks on, “Two straws.”

Jonathan blushes slightly across from her and she thinks the waitress has picked up on their banter as she smiles at them. “Got it. It’ll be out shortly.” She smiles at them, topping off their empty water glasses before she leaves.

Whatever discussion they were having is forgotten as Nancy finds herself glancing around the diner once more. Nothing much has changed, but it’s so easy to go off in her own little world with Jonathan. She looks down to her hands and remembers there’s still something they need to talk about.

At least he’s lightened up a little. “Hey, uh,” Nancy looks up at him, “Are you…okay?”

That’s a heavy question because the answer is certainly, most definitely, no. Neither one of them are. But they can be, they will be if they go through their shit together.

Nancy’s not one to be vulnerable very often, gladly masking over that feeling with the fiery rage of revenge or at the least alcohol to help numb it, but she’s trying to work on that. Be more open with herself and Jonathan. But, she doesn’t know if she’d ever admit out loud how petrified she is of him keeping everything inside. Of losing him like that.

Jonathan senses the shift in her tone immediately and what she’s implying. He runs a hand through his hair as she assumes he tries to think of an answer. Yes and no. She gets it. “Uh, yeah…” He shrugs, “When I’m with you, I am.”

“Jonathan,” She sighs, feeling her heart clench at that as she reaches over the table to grab the hand of his that is resting on it. She’s not sure how to tell him that he’s allowed to be happy with her and still deal with his own trauma. “You can…you can talk to me, okay? You don’t have to…be brave all the time. You don’t have to deal with everything by yourself.”

He looks up at her, and she feels a little bit guilty because she can tell he does. She doesn’t want to make him feel bad, the opposite in fact, but she knows it’s his natural coping mechanism to retreat into himself and deal with everything alone. It’s what he’s been doing the past seventeen years, after all. She just wants to help him lift the weight of the world off his shoulders. “Nancy…”

“I’m just saying…” She looks down, squeezing his hand. “You’re not alone.”

Jonathan nods, and as if he’s thinking about how to respond he turns her hand over. Traces her scar with his index finger lightly, not meeting her gaze. “You too, Nance. You’re, uh, never alone.”

Nancy nods, honestly thinking that’s the most she’s going to get out of him for now. Back in the dark, under the covers where he feels safe enough to let his guard down, he’ll tell her about his anxieties or whatever else going through his head that’s eating him alive. She’s okay with that, as long as he knows he can tell her.

“I trust you, you know. More than…” He shrugs, still looking down but not releasing her hand. “More than anyone.”

She keeps quiet, trying to keep the surprise off her face and not to scare him off by how freaking relieved she is to hear that.

“I, I know…back at Murray’s, he said something about that. He was right, but,” Jonathan finally looks up to meet her gaze, nervous despite everything they’ve gone through. “I trust you.”

Nancy nods, hoping she can express how much that means to her by gently interlocking their fingers and wording her response carefully. “I trust you too. Obviously.” She says slowly before shaking her head, and she can feel herself starting to nervously ramble. “But, uh, what he said. He was right about both of us, you know. And I, um, when I’m with you…” She shrugs, looking back up to him. “I’m not afraid to accept myself for who I really am.”

She can feel herself go red just by saying that, her heart hammering and a weird hot feeling spreading over her because for the last year she’s been pretty good at hiding how she was feeling, and hiding who she really was. As scary as opening up is, she feels lighter. A good hammering in her chest when Jonathan squeezes her hand back, and she can just tell this means a lot to him too.

“That’s, uh, great.” He swallows. “’Cause who you really are…is incredible, Nancy.”

She can’t help but smile at that, the nervous kind that forces her to push her lips down. She wonders if he saw that in her back in the woods so long ago. If that’s why they argued, why she got so offended.

“And I’m, uh, glad you feel so…comfortable. Around me,” He shrugs, and Nancy can’t help herself anymore. She can also tell it’s taking a lot to put himself out here like this, as it was for her, so she takes a tiny bit of pity on him.

“Me too.” She smiles playfully now. “It’s kind of hard not to feel comfortable with someone you’re in love with, though.” She teases, eyebrows raised as she leans over the table. Jonathan’s already there to kiss her gently.

“I’m in love with you too,” He nearly mumbles, keeping his voice low. But he’s also grinning as he pecks her once more.

“I know.” She pulls back, keeping her hand entangled with his.

As if on cue, their waitress comes back with their food and shake and Nancy wonders, even after all that, if Jonathan will keep fighting her.

It doesn’t really matter though. She’d take a conversation like that, Jonathan Byers’ in his rawest form with all his weird pretentious quirks over a boy who’d share a milkshake with her any day.

They only release each other’s hands to eat, Nancy making a small mound of ketchup on the corner of the plate as she looks around the diner again. “We should go on a trip.”

Jonathan looks up, an eyebrow arched, as he’s eating their fries. “A trip?”

“A road trip, or something.” Nancy nods, not being able to shake the feeling of running away since they walked into this place. She loves it as if she can imagine going to empty diners with him in the middle of the night all across America.

“There’s Chicago?” He suggests, moving to take a couple fries and dip them in their shake. Nancy’s eyes light up.

“Yeah, of course.” She nods. “But, also… we should go on a real trip.” She shrugs. “You know, somewhere longer than a weekend. Maybe this summer.”

“Really? Where would you want to go?”

Nancy looks up, her lips slightly pursed in thinking. “There’s New York. California. I don’t know…anywhere.”

Jonathan, surprisingly, laughs. “That’s, uh, a great idea.”

“Yeah?” She hums, looking up at him under her lashes. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “You willing to run away with me?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He shoots back, and Nancy can’t help but laugh.

“Willing to run away with me even when the world’s not about to end?”

“Definitely.” He shoots back, just as quickly. As he says so, he manages to reach over and take the shake from her side of the table she pulled over.

She focuses on the fries again, “We can save money too. You know, single room and all…”

Jonathan flushes red and she knows he doesn’t have a quip back for that, “Yeah. Yeah, we will.”

By the time they’re halfway done spitballing ideas of places they want to go together and times in between school breaks they could make it work, they’re going up to the counter to pay. Nancy feels the same amount of gravitation to him she has all night, tucking herself back into his side as soon as they stand. It’s a miracle, she thinks, she stayed on her side of the booth the whole time.

Their waitress smiles fondly at them, ringing up their meal as she asks. “You two coming far from home?” They both must have matching looks of confusion on their faces because she clarifies. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume anything. You two just look like you’re on some sort of adventure together.”

Nancy can’t help but smile, used to ignoring people commenting on their chemistry before. She hadn’t even acknowledged it at the lab, too focused on their mission to get awkward. But she particularly likes she doesn’t have to deny it anymore.

And while she’s leaning into him, she has her own secret smile on her face as she interlocks their fingers lightly. “Yeah,” She decides. “We’re running away together.” 

The waitress nods, and if she notices the look of mild confusion- maybe blushing- on Jonathan’s face, she assumes it’s because what Nancy saying is true. “Looks like it. You know,” she hands the receipt to Jonathan. “I see a lot of couples like that. Kids running away for whatever reason, but you two…you two are really in love.” She shrugs. “You’re gonna make it. I can just tell.”

Nancy looks to Jonathan, that shy smile now on both of their faces. It’s crazy to Nancy how many strangers have such insight on her relationship with Jonathan, and how everyone’s been right. “We think so too.”

Jonathan squeezes her hand and the lady laughs.

“So what? Runaway to get married?”

Nancy tries to keep the blush off her face. “No, uh, not yet.” She can’t help herself from continuing. “Marriage license hasn’t processed yet.” Jonathan chuckles beside her, and she’s about to elbow him. “We just…ran away because we’re in love.”

The waitress smiles at that. “Well, congratulations. And good luck to you both, even though I feel like you don’t need it.”

Nancy laughs, having no idea how much luck they both actually need. Between Demogorgons’ and Tommy and Carol writing crude things on their lockers, they do definitely need it. Still, she appreciates the sentiment. “Thank you.”

Jonathan mumbles out a thank you too, before telling her to keep the tip money and leaving. Nancy can’t help but notice his arm has moved to around her waist as they walk out. The cool Indiana night air hits them as Jonathan unlocks the car. “We should come back here someday.” Nancy hums.

“Uh, maybe someday. Not anytime soon.” He shakes his head and Nancy looks up at him in disbelief. “We can’t be getting married if you don’t even have a ring.” He shrugs, gesturing to her hand. “You deserve a ring.”

Nancy laughs, the story spiraling as they stand at the edge of his car. “It was an impulsive decision. We decided tonight to get married.”

“But we applied for a marriage license?”

Nancy shrugs. “Yesterday.”

“That’s plenty of time for me to get you a ring.” He shoots back as if he’s offended.

“I proposed to you.” She suggests, teasing tone strong as he ducks his head.

He leads her over to the passenger side, pressing her against the door as he encompasses her smaller body by stealing a quick kiss. “You would, wouldn’t you?” Nancy nods, grinning against his lips. She knows she would too.

He makes his way back to the drivers’ side, after opening the door for her, and it’s almost nearing sunrise now. But Nancy goes to her rightful spot of looking for a mixtape as she curls into the worn leather. “So what, you never want to go back?” She asks.

“N-no,” Jonathan shrugs, looking over his shoulder to pull out of the parking spot. “We can. But, you know, when we, uh, actually get married.”

Nancy’s smile is priceless as she grabs his hand, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulls back onto the road all while she can’t stop thinking about how in love with him she is.

“Oh yeah? You see us actually getting married?” She teases, Jonathan looking over at her like that not helping with the hammering in her chest.

Jonathan’s a bright shade of red now but despite his blushing, he squeezes her hand gently. “Uh, yeah. You know…one day.”

Nancy can’t help but grin, color flushing her own cheeks as she tries to keep herself composed. “Yeah. Me too.”

[little-owly]

Ok so imagine Ja//ck is recording a YouTube video and he goes into little space for awhile, and forgets to remove all the footage of him in little space before he sends it to Ro//bin to edit it. So Ro//bin gets sent a video where a chunk of it is just Ja//ck babbling and playing with the things on his desk. *cue awkward Skype call*

I LOVE THIS CONCEPT ITS SO CUTE AND PUREjack getting into some childish game. by childish -- its the type asking "how many bumblebees are on the blue flower?" or "how many ladybugs do you see?"jack's trying to make jokes -- trying to stay upbeat and loud, but he just cant. sleepy beyond belief and the gentle calming music from the game making him fall more and more comfortably into headspace. giggling as he points to the screen, "i fink that's 5 ladybugs! did i get it wight?" he asks. sleepily clapping his hands as the game announces he did. the whole recording spent on jack as he cuddles into his oversized hoodie he happened to be wearing. playing the game and showing off the figures he has on his desk. "dis one my favoritiest!! it one wobin maded, it me!! i a square!" he giggles as he kisses it, "wobin the bestest fwiend. wan' him to be here more and more." he sighs. setting the figure aside. he continues playing the game. getting so deep he actually has to think over a math question the game gives him. counting on his fingers and cheering as he gets the answer. comfortably sucking on the edge of his sleeve -- an obvious replacement for a pacifier. yawning more and more. "gonna go sleepies now, wif sammy 'cause he tiwed too." jack pulls up his trusty sammy, waving to the camera, "bye bye!! bye bye game, bye bye camera, wuv yoooooou," as he turns off his equipment -- mostly thanks to muscle memory rather than actually thinking. sending the footage to robin. he curls up in bed and dreams soundly. sucking on the sleeve of his hoodie again and cuddling sammy close. excited to play again tomorrow. //its early the next day when robin skypes jack. jack just barely about to record again. refreshed and bursting with energy already. "robin!! whats up?" he asks, all smiles."hey!! not much, just editing footage. i have a question.""whats your question?""so uh, you know that game you played for laughs--""gotta be more specific than that, robin."robin breaks into a nervous laugh, "yeah, you're right -- er...the baby game about gardens and stuff? you...were acting pretty weird in it. you kinda...seemed off and talking baby-ish. even sucking on your jacket sleeve and calling me 'wobin'."robin coughs as he looks over the footage again, "is that apart of like, a skit? or do i need to edit things in that like baby-ish music in the back? or just cut it entirely?"the memories hit jack. the way he fell into headspace, the way he talked about robin. even the baby speak he used when little. "...oh fuck." is all he can respond as his face heats up with embarrassment. "oh!! by the way, i can schedule a trip to meet you again soon!! no need to cry like a baby about it, eh?" robin tries to joke, eyebrows furrowing as the skype call ends suddenly, "jack? bud...?"

[kissmetae]

Smitten

x Taehyung

AU: Artist!Taehyung | Your boyfriend happens to be the renowned painter and photographer Kim Taehyung. The two of you meet a few years ago at the exhibition center you worked at and he immediately became extremely found of you and tried all in his might and power to have you fall for his charm, which of course was easier done and just as easily said. 

One day when you were with him at his studio he got the courage to ask you to pose nude for him and for him to paint using your body as his canvas… 

You accept on one condition… that you get to paint on him too.

SMUT | 6k | x reader

AO3 version | m.list

Disclaimer: This is fiction. Actions and events in these stories are often exaggerated and to a certain degree unrealistic.  Please have this in consideration when reading fiction, especially if it includes sexual content.

Rating: MATURE | sexual content, unprotected sex

A/N: Shoutout to @kooksluv who gave me the idea for this a while back

You were seated on the wooden floors with your legs crossed and a warm mug in your hands.

Fuzzy socks were keeping your feet warm and protecting them from the wet paint splashes here and there on the floor.

Across from you was your boyfriend, holding up a vintage camera in his delicate hands.

“Your tea will get cold.”

“I just need to take one with this camera too.” He said eagerly.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip form your cup and he took another photo.

“Ok, now I’m done.” He chuckled and stood up and put his camera back on his desk.

You liked spending time in his studio and he seemingly liked it when you were there with him too. You’d pop by every now and then to keep him company.

He sat back down on the floor and grabbed his own mug and had a sip, looking up at you between long lashes while the hot beverage soothed his throat.

He was wearing an oversized white shirt covered in paint splashes that he had purposely caused to it to make it unique. Paired with it was a pair of distressed jeans.

His studio was large and spacious and half of the walls were decorated by red bricks. The ceiling was high and there were huge windows looking out over the city. Scattered around the space were various supplies and set ups.

Your boyfriend Taehyung was an artist and photographer and thus he spent many hours in his studio every day and sometimes he could be so into what he was doing that he’d forget the concept of time resulting in you having to come pick him up and drag him home so he wouldn’t lose his sanity.

But sometimes you just grabbed something from the café around the corner and brought it up for him to keep him company for a little while.

You worked part-time at the exhibition center and that so happened to be the place where you meet a little over three years ago.

He loved taking photos of you just as much as he loved having his own pictures taken by you. Getting to help you and teach you his passion closely and with plenty of excuses to touch your hands and your body made his heart feel warm.

“I have something I’d like to ask you…” Taehyung suddenly said, interrupting your drifting mind and grabbed a piece of the cinnamon bun you had brought for him.

“Go ahead.”

“So, you know how you’re my muse…”

‘Muse’, it was a word he used for you often but it always made you blush just as much as the first time.

“Yes?” You smiled shyly.

“Have you ever thought about posing for photography…”

“Oh, Tae-baby you know I’m not good at posing-“

“Nude.” He interrupted.

“Nude?” You repeated, surprised.

“Yeah… naked.” He swirled the tea around in his mug, distracting himself from the flustered feeling he got from asking.

“No I- I’ve never really thought about it but…”

“You have a beautiful body.”

You looked down and giggled, smitten by his words.

“I’d know, because I’ve seen it naked at multiple occasions and in its most beautiful state.”

“And what state is that?” You asked

“Aroused.” He said boldly and raised his brow in a flirty manner.

You began to cough lightly as you swallowed your tea weirdly, making Taehyung laugh.

He was sitting leaned back and the look on his face was slightly intimidating.

“Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to model for me, if you’re not comfortable it’s ok. I won’t put out anything you don’t want me to show or that I don’t want the world to see for that matter.” He chuckled. “Some things are for my eyes only.”

He pulled a hand through his hair nervously.

“What’s your vision?” You asked with an interest sparked.

“My vision is you, and a nice set of course, simple and minimalistic. I also want to paint on you.”

“Paint on me?”

“Yes, your skin would be my canvas.” He smirked.

“Only if I can paint on you too.”

“Deal!” He called out, excited. “I want some nice photos just for us too…”

“Just for us? I like that.” You smiled, tilting your head to the side.

“Should we say tomorrow then?” He suggested.

“Why not, but now I’m taking you home.” You said and stood up.

Taehyung looked down in defeat and held up his hand for you to grab. You caressed his hand gently and pulled at it to make him stand up.

To your surprise Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist as he stood up and lifted you up, making you squeal and giggle.

“Taehyung! Put me down!” You laughed.

“Not until I get a kiss! I’ve missed you today.” He pouted.

“I can’t reach your lips from up here!”

He lowered you back down on your feet, keeping his hold tight around you.

He puckered his lips cutely and you kissed him gently. He kissed you back a second time, lingering passionately against your soft touch before pulling away with a satisfied grin.

He grabbed his coat and yours, handing it to you and you then escaped his studio together.

The snow was falling down lightly outside as you headed to your car that was parked outside.

The ride home was short and you were behind the wheel. There was something special about driving through snow. It was as if the world was suddenly a lot calmer and more peaceful, like the snow had brought a certain serenity with it.

The evening sky was fading darker by the minute and when you finally parked the car in the garage the sky had turned almost pitch black.

The two of you shared a penthouse apartment in one of the fancier districts in town. So to put it humbly, it was going quite well for Taehyung…

At the time you had met you were working full time at the exhibition center and you were in charge of a lot, one of the many things being Taehyung exhibition which meant the two of you had had a lot of contact with each other in order to plan the exhibition together. You had clicked almost right away and Taehyung had become awfully profound of you, always requesting for you to be in charge of his next exhibition and inviting you to each and every one of his events; auctions, parties, grand dinners and launches, you name it.

He was deeply smitten by you.

He’d show up on the calm days at the center to “have a look around.” Always stopping to talk to you or ask for you.  After one of the opening ceremonies for his then recent new collection of art he had approached you afterwards and bravely asked you if you’d like to celebrate with him in privacy, just the two of you, indirectly asking you out for a date.

Back then he didn’t know how to handle the whirlwind of his flustered emotions well around you. He brought you gifts… expensive ones. They were hard to accept and you were stuck in your working mindset and thought you’d get in trouble for accepting such a gift in case it would be passed at accepting bribes… but you weren’t working when you were out with him, neither was he.

You were spending time in private and getting to know each other…

What others didn’t know wouldn’t harm them but today it was a well-known fact that you were Taehyung’s partner.

He mentioned you often as his muse even in media, something you felt greatly shy about at first.

And the speeches…

“and thank you to my beautiful partner in crime who always supports me and inspires me.”

You always giggled at the thought of those memories.

Another big memory you had was of his grand confession. You liked to call it grand to tease him but it was indeed such for you. It was a sunny spring day and you had been on numerous “indirect” dates and they had gradually become more and more flirtatious to the point where you were head over heels for him.

He’d always bring his camera with him when the two of you were out and you didn’t even want to know how many candid shots he probably had of you in his camera by this time.

On the day of his “grand confession” he had brought you to a sky view restaurant, not too far from his old studio he had at the time. After the dinner you had walked to his studio because he wanted to show you something quickly, an opinion on his on-going project you assumed.

As you walked down the street his hand had done the movie typical thing and brushed gently against yours, testing the waters before committing. You brushed back against his fingers and his fingers intertwined with yours.

He had planned it beforehand.

In his studio was a white canvas with Polaroid pictures glued to it, each one with a letter scribbled on them and spelling out “love you” with a clear space left for the missing “I” Polaroid to complete in the sentence.

It might have been cheesy… but he handed you a polaroid camera and asked you to take a photo of him while he jumped.

The photo turned out really cute with him mid-air, hair in a mess and a wide smile all while trying to make a heart with his arms. The polaroid developed and he scribbled an I on it, beneath the photo and then handed it back to you.

“Can you glue it on the canvas for me?” He asked and handed you a glue gun as well.

He suddenly disappeared out of the room and you went to glue on the Polaroid. When you looked closer you noticed how the Polaroids for Y, O and U were all candids he had taken of you… Your suspicion was of course on an all-time high but your mind didn’t want to acknowledge the completed piece.

“What do you think?” He asked, appearing behind you.

When you turned around he was shyly holding a single rose.

“What’s the meaning behind it?” You asked, despite being able to figure it out, but you needed for him to let your mind acknowledge it before you could set your reaction free.

“You completed it… like my heart.”

You looked down with a wide grin, covering the lower half of your face with your sleeve and grabbing the rose he held out for you with the other.

The tint on his cheeks matched the flower.

“I love you.” He confessed boldly, with a faint hint of heart felt desperation. “I want you to be mine, I’m already yours, even if you don’t want me, I am yours.”

With a sudden rush of courage you dropped the rose on to the floor and his eyes followed it as you in the very same moment took a step towards him, placed your hand by the side of his neck and kissed him.

His hand immediately moved to your sides and pulled you closer, kissing you back with full force. You could feel how he relaxed into relief when your lips softly caressed his. Something he had wanted to experience for so long…

After that he had refused to have you away from his side for longer than a day, something you didn’t mind… He was a needy lover to say the least. You became his right hand and joined him on each and every trip he had, with you natural skill for planning and organizing you became a great help in his career and Taehyung began to feel bad about having you do all these things. You didn’t mind but suddenly Taehyung sat you down in the office of his studio and insisted that he would pay you.

“You’re the love of my life, not my assistant. I’m going to go crazy otherwise, just let me pay you for the work, please.”

You couldn’t accept the fact that he wanted to pay you for you just helping him organize his life a little, it was nothing near what an assistant would do. But he was stubborn enough to have you settle half way. You began to work part-time at the exhibition center instead so you could dedicate more of your time with him, something Taehyung gladly approved of.

It made it a lot easier for you to be able to join him on his bigger trips then as well. For Taehyung he of course wanted his love and muse by his side at all times.

“I feel incomplete without you!” He had cried out once, mentally drained from working too hard and forgetting the fact that he was a functioning human being who had needs to be maintained such as sleep, fun and hunger.

It was what made you finally accept his plead.

You were at work late, preparing and planning for the exhibition center while Taehyung was growing more and more lonely in his studio, missing you desperately.

“Baby I know I’m annoying, I know I’m needy and demanding! But I- I just can’t help it! Baby I tried… I tried so hard… please come here.” He had cried over the phone. “Please just come here…”

Hearing him this upset was heartbreaking and you left right away.

When you arrived at the studio he had almost thrown himself over you.

“I’m sorry.” He cried.

“Tae-baby have you had anything to eat? You look exhausted!” You grabbed the sides of his face, examining him. “Your under eyes are so dark…”

He sighed and sniffed.

“I can’t sleep.”

“That’s it.” You yelled. “We’re going home and you’re taking a week off at the least.”

“A week?”

“At least!”

You grabbed his hand and practically dragged him out of there.

That week off had been something he needed more than anything, especially since after that the two of you would be heading to Oslo for a business trip.

--

You crawled up to Taehyung who was lying next to you in bed. You placed your head on his shoulder, nuzzled his neck softly and rested your hand on his broad chest while his hand caressed your arm.

“You know I’m really grateful that I have you in my life right?” He whispered

You nodded against his neck.

“I love you.” You said.

“I love you too.” He let out a tiny chuckle.

“I’m thinking about what I should paint on you tomorrow.” You said, looking up at his face and drawing circles with your finger on his chest.

“I have some ideas for you.” He said with a smirk, still moving his hand up and down your forearm soothingly.

“I’ll draw a penis on you.” You joked.

Taehyung snorted.

“Where though?” He asked

“The back?”

“You have my entire body as your canvas.” He reminded. “And I have all of yours.” He lowered his voice and gripped your wrist, pulling your arm across him and suddenly rolling over on top of you.

Innocent wide eyes looked down at you before you were suddenly kissed.

His hands moved up your arms and pinned them above your head. His lips hungrily kissed you and he got short of breathe.

He pulled away.

“You’ll look so beautiful when I’m done with you.” He whispered with a wide grin and began to kiss down the side of your neck.

--

After a shower and breakfast you began to prepare to leave for the studio.

You found Taehyung snooping around in your closet innocently.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked. “What if I’ve hidden early Christmas purchases in here.”

“I didn’t touch anything!” He smiled and raised his hands. “I was waiting for you to find me here, I want to pick out something for you to wear…” He said shyly.

“Weren’t we going to be naked?”

“Yeah, but I want to take some photos in underwear too… if it’s ok.”

You walked past him and opened one of your drawers.

“All of these have matching sets.” You said and gestured at the numerous bras in the drawer.

Shy hands began to look through the various pieces until they stopped and picked up a black lace bra, embellished with tiny crystals. You went to pick out the pieces you knew matched it and the panties for the set.

“This is the full set.” You said and held out the clothes for Taehyung to look at.

“Are these socks?” He asked and felt the fabric of your mesh thigh high socks.

“Yes.” You nodded. “They have lace at the end that’s similar with the rest.”

His eyes moved from the clothing to your body as if he was trying to visualize them on you.

“I like them.”

You packed all your stuff up into a little bag and headed for the studio.

--

Taehyung was busy setting up his set while you got changed.

He himself was wearing black fitted slacks and a loose fitted turtleneck sweater.

You heard him put on some suitable music out in the main room and you bent down to adjust your socks slightly before you walked out of the office.

His hands were working on the camera settings but when he heard you walk in you instantly had his full attention. He smirked at you and bit his lips.

The music of choice was calm jazz music.

Not a surprising choice in the slightest.

“How do I look?” You asked and spun around.

“One side of me wants to say beautiful but the other wants to say lethally sexy.

He had you lie down on his sofa that he had moved to in front of a back drop.

The sofa was made of red velvet and had golden details.

“Let one arm hang off of it.” he directed and took a test photo.

“Now think of me naked.” He said, making you laugh.

“Beautiful.”

He was a natural.

He got a bit closer and dragged his right hands up your thigh, his fingertips almost barely touching your skin, so lightly.

“Can you put your finger in your mouth…”

He suddenly got on the sofa himself, standing on his knees over your legs and taking photos from above.

He caressed your abdomen, placing his hand low and stroking you upwards, moving his hand towards your breast and taking a photo of his hand on your body.

You giggled at the tickling feeling.

“Have you done this before? You’re so relaxed with me touching you.” He teased.

“Your touch reminds me of the touch my man has… he is just as delicate”

“Is he?”

“He is… but he can be rough when he wants to…”

He chuckled.

“Hold this dear.” He said and handed you his camera.

He suddenly grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it up and over his head, exposing his honey smooth skin.

“This is going to be tricky to do only two, but that’s the charm of it.”

He climbed off of the sofa and brought his sweater with him, removing it from his little set. He returned with a tripod and took the camera from you, placing it on it.

He aimed the camera towards your waist.

“I want some artsy close ups before you take your clothes off.”

He had a little remote in his hand and suddenly climbed back on to the sofa.

He leaned down on top of you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and grabbing your waist firmly.

“Grab my hair.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair and he clicked the button on the remote in his hand that was hiding by your other side, making the camera take a few faceless pictures of you two, with only your bodies on each other and his hand holding on strongly to your waist.

You ended up making out on the sofa and Taehyung dropped the tiny remote, distracted by your touch and taste.

He pulled back out of breath and got off the sofa.

“Take your clothes off.” He panted.

You followed his instructions and he started taking even more photos of you, but with you nude in front of him. The cold air made your nipples harden slightly.

After a few more photos he suddenly tossed his sweater to you.

You half-heartedly concealed yourself with it as he took even more photos.

Seemingly he enjoyed using himself and his own things as props.

“One last one and I’ll get the painting supplies out.” He encouraged and handed the camera to you.

“Take some close ups of my lips.” He said and sat by your side on the sofa.

His “visions” were surprising and this wasn’t an exception.

His hands grabbed your sides and leaned down to place a kiss on your nipple. Distracted by the action you forgot about the camera in your hands.

It was easier said than done to not accidently hit him with heavy piece of equiptment.

He suddenly took your nipple in his mouth and began to suck on it gently, causing your heart beat to go unsteady.

You managed to take a few photos of his lips while trying to remain steady.

He pulled at your nipple with his lips slightly before letting go with a light smack, causing you to inhale sharply.

He took the camera and sat back up like nothing.

Wasn’t he realizing that this was turning you on?

You squeezed your thighs together gently.

Without a word he got up and put the camera back in its place and disappeared into one of the other rooms.

You sat back up straight in the sofa and watched him return with a bunch of brushes and paints.

He placed them down on the floor and went back to get some more.

You moved to go sit by the brushes and paint on the floor and Taehyung returned with a few more paints and a blanket over his arm.

He put them down among the rest and laid out the blanket over your legs.

“You’ll get cold.” He said and sat down opposite of you.

“What about your clothes?” You questioned.

He looked down in shame.

“That’s right…”

He stood up quickly and began to unbutton the button and pull down the zipper when you noticed the straining against the fabric.

“You can’t expect me to not react…” He mumbled shamefully and pulled his pants and boxers down, revealing his semi-hard cock.

He sat back down again and reached for one of the paints.

You helped him pour out some of each and every color he had selected on to a tray.

“Turn around.”

The bristles against your back felt relaxing and the cold sensation from the paint gave you tingles as he dragged a long stroke down your spine

”Does it feel nice?”

”Mmm” you hummed

He drew another line across your shoulder blades and you closed your eyes.

You suddenly felt the brush poke softly against your cheek.

”Don’t fall asleep.” He chuckled, now in front of you.

The tip of the thing paintbrush in his hands stroked across your nipple and a strong hand grabbed your breast.

He began to draw carefully around your nipple, concentrating deeply.

“You look so handsome when you’re drawing.” You pointed out, making him smile.

He reached beside you and dipped his brush into some more paint.

You got a sudden urge to kiss him but you didn’t want to move and ruin his work.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

He pulled the brush away and looked up at you with wide eyes and a confused innocent expression.

You leaned down and kissed his lips and he smiled widely, resorting back to his painting.

The way he was sitting made it hard for you to paint on him at the same time but you quickly got another idea of what you could do instead.

You grabbed one of the unused long brushes and began to draw slow gentle strokes across his cock.

“You’re going to make it worse.” He chuckled.

“Make what worse?” You asked innocently.

“You know what you’re doing, you can’t fool me.”

The brush moved delicately over your nipple again and he let go of your breast.

He put the brush down and grabbed your wrist.

“We’ll fuck later, don’t make me need you sooner.” He giggled. “Now draw on me instead.”

You dipped the brush into some purple paint and asked him to turn around.

The first stroke, you touched the cold paintbrush against the very top of his neck and pulled it slowly down and across his right shoulder.

The cold touch gave him a few goosebumps.

You drew the brush down his back and began to make a pattern with purple, baby blue and white.

“It feels so nice.” He sighed.

“Is it relaxing?”

“Mmmm”

“What did you say we’d do later?” You asked and dipped your brush into more paint.

“Nothing.”

“I sure remember you said something…” You teased and dragged the brush down his spine.

He shivered.

“Go out for a romantic dinner?” He teased back.

“That too would be nice.”

You dragged the brush to the side of his waist and down over his hip.

“Turn around.” You ordered.

He carefully moved around and you pressed one of the bigger brushes against the middle of his chest.

“Red?” He pointed out.

“I’m making a heart.”

“What did you make on my back?”

“Art.”

He laughed.

“Of course.”

“I call it art on art.”

“By art.” He filled in, making you giggle.

It was Taehyung’s turn again and he asked you to stand up for him. He moved close to your left leg and began to paint up the side of your thigh.

Things were going to turn dangerous from now.

His free hand travelled up your inner thigh, for support first until he suddenly moved his hand even higher. He tried to conceal a deviant smirk to little success.

He dragged one of his fingers up your slit, making you squirm at the sudden touch.

“Stay still.” He said, acting like if hadn’t just touched you.

The paint brush moved to the front of your thigh and without warning he suddenly slipped on of his fingers into you. You almost lost your balance and had to grab on to his hair.

“Stay still baby~” He sang, curling his finger.

You whimpered.

“What’s that?” He asked innocently, focusing on his pattern.

“T- Taehyung please-“

He slid in a second finger and you tensed your thighs.

“I thought that was what you wanted.” He teased and pulled out. “I’m all done.”

He had painted a matching floral print that travelled across your back, thigh and breast in charcoal black paint.

He had you stand sideways against the wall, twisting slightly to show how the pattern appeared in various areas on your body while he took numerous photos in different angles. He took a few close ups of each piece and then handed the camera to you for take of your creation. The heart was something you had drawn just for fun at first but it actually looked really cool when he was the camera, head tilted to the side slightly.

He turned around, showing off his broad back to the camera.

The pattern you had made of the colors all came together in the shape of a pair of wings and you were very proud of it. The purple was the main color in the middle and you had traced a long line almost like a ribbon from the wings that travelled down his spine and to his hip.

“Can I see?” Taehyung asked, curious of what was on his back.

You handed the camera to him and he scrolled through your pictures with a wide grin.

“It looks great!” Another click and he made it to the photos of you and you got to see the full piece on your body.

“Wow!” You expressed.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s so pretty!”

He smiled, satisfied. He clicked through a few more of the photos.

“Fuck, you look so good…”

He was getting distracted by the photos.

He turned the camera off and put it down on the sofa.

“Are you ready to destroy the pieces?” He smirked, walking back towards you by the wall.

You could hint his intention…

But before you could respond, his arms wrapped tightly around you, pushing you back against the wall and attacking you lips.

Your fingers dragged through the paint on his back and his hands smudged the pattern on your thigh as his hands moved down to pick you up.

You jumped up on him and he carried you to one of his tables without breaking the kiss. He knocked over everything on the table and put you down on it. There was paint on his face from your hands and he crawled up on top of you on the big table. He moved your leg to over his hip, smudging the paint even more as his hand moved down your thigh.

He moved closer.

Gently, he began to grind against you, his thickness rubbing against your wet slit, spreading it apart ever so slightly.

The red paint on his chest smeared over you, ruining the detailed pattern around your nipple.

He slammed his hands against the table on either side of your head, pushing himself up and pulling away from the kiss.

His hair hung lightly around his face as he looked down at you.

You could see clearly in his eyes and expression how turned on he was.

Lips parted and eyes filled with lust.

He leaned down by your ear, still out of breath.

“This is so fucking hot.” He whispered.

He nuzzled your neck aggressively.

“Do you want me baby?” He groaned.

“Y-yes, I want you… so bad.” You panted.

“My princess gets whatever she asks for.” He kissed your jaw.

“She wants you.”

“What does she want me to do?” He nuzzled your neck again. “You have to tell me what you want me to do to you sweetie.” He chuckled.

He loved it when you begged for him.

“Do you want me to kiss you some more hmm?” He suggested and kissed your cheek. “Kisses only!?” He questioned and stopped moving his hips.

“You know where I want you.” You pleaded, dragging your nails soothingly up the back of his neck.

“Say it.” He groaned.

“I want you to fuck me!”

“Fuck you? I only make love.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“But if that’s what you want…” He whispered.

He reached down between you, grabbed his now aching cock and dragged it up and down your slit a few times more while kissing your neck. Each time the tip hit against your clit you could feel your desperation growing stronger, your desires practically screaming for him to thrust into you.

You let out a soft whimper, moaning his name and begging to please just do more, give you more, more of him, more of his touch…

He dragged the tip down your slit a final time before letting it slide into you to your relief.

His hand moved back to the table, pushing himself up to hover above you while he looked down at your face with a serious expression.  His long fringe brushed lightly over your forehead and your head tilted back slightly when you suddenly felt him thrust deeply into you with a loud grunt.

Having sex in his studio was always something out of the ordinary…

His lips found yours again and he moved his hands to the sides of your face, spreading a few strokes of paint across your skin by accident.

His body was heavy on yours, pressing you down hard against the table. He pulled back and thrusted back into you again harder, skin slapping against skin echoing through the space.

He picked up a faster pace and it became harder to breathe with his tongue swirling around your own. You pulled away from the kiss to get a chance to regain your breath and in response he grabbed the back of your thigh hard.

He pressed his forehead against your and began to go even faster, almost brutal.

He was groaning with each breath as he desperately tried to fuck you as fast and hard as he could, driving you insane. Your thighs were aching and your breath was shaking when he suddenly abruptly stopped.

Your heart was racing and your muscles were crying out for relief.

His cock was buried deep and he kissed your lips again, smacking and pecking and sucking loudly.

His cock slipped out of you almost all the way before he thrusted back into you and picking up his brutal pace from before again, pounding into you with no mercy and making you scream out his name loud and clear making the smirk on his lips grow even wider.

He hid his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder and his heavy exhaled tickled against your skin.

He stopped again.

You muscles were pulsating.

His chest was moving up and down rapidly, out of beat to the soft jazz music that was still filling the room.

“I won’t be able to hold myself one more time.” He said.

Neither would you… more than one more time and he’d have you going numb from overstimulation.

“Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” He whispered, followed by a chuckle.

All you could do was nod against his shoulder.

You were holding on to him for dear life, your hands haven completely ruined the painting on his back.

“Can you take it one last time baby? One more, before I cum?” He asked, sounding almost begging on the tone as he began to move his hips slowly again.

“Mmmm” You hummed as a response.

This time he built up his pace, going faster and faster with each thrust from starting off slow and getting closer and closer to his release.

Nails were digging into skin and paint was smudged and smeared all over the table and each other.

He began to moan short and loud with each pounding motion as his climax grew closer and closer and you could feel your pulsating core come undone around his cock again when he thrusted into you with full force and spanked your thigh, triggering your orgasm.

He pulled out without warning, leaving you with an achingly empty feeling.

He reached back down again, supporting himself on his knees and with his lips desperately kissing you as he began to jerk himself off with his hand, moaning against the kiss with each ruthless stroke until his head fell to your shoulder and he exhaled deeply, followed by a shaky moan as he finally released and squirted his load all over your lower abdomen.

Breathless and sweaty he placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

He knew he owed you a big dose of aftercare after this

Carefully, he climbed off the table, landing back down on the floor on quivering muscles. You sat up and Taehyung reached for your hands right away to help you down from the table.

His heart was still racing and he caught a glimpse of your lower abdomen, covered with his sticky mess when you carefully got off the table.

You looked down yourself to see his cum begin to drip down you as you stood back up.

“I really need a shower.”

“Aren’t we both pretty dirty?” Taehyung chuckled shyly.

Taehyung’s studio was a remade apartment so luckily it did have a shower.

“Get in first, I’ll clean up here.” Taehyung said and placed a soothing kiss on your forehead.

Your thighs were aching as you carefully made your way to the bathroom.

Taehyung cleaned up the mess on the table and the wall while you showered and once he was done he joined you in the steam and you helped each other get all of the paint off.

“Was I too hard on you?” He asked shyly, worried.

“Not at all.” You smirked and shook your head.

You got out of the shower, dried off and got dressed again.

Taehyung walked into the office were you were getting dressed as you finished getting your clothes back on.

“We’re going home now.” He said.

“Already? What about your pictures?”

“They can wait, you can’t.”

“Me?”

“I owe you.”

You looked at him with a confused expression.

“Hug you, massage you, cook something, kiss you… caring.”

“Tae-baby…” You sighed sweetly and stroked his cheek.

“You already do all those things, especially caring. Don’t worry.”

“We usually snuggle after sex…” he pouted.

“Then let’s go home and snuggle.” You said and put your arms around him.

He picked you up and carried you out of the office, making you giggle.

[thejojosanctuary]

Can you do a sfw and nsfw for young and old Joseph with a male s/o that might like to crossdress?

i hope i did justice ;-; also i just wanted to say to everyone im sorry for being absent for a bit, i was dealing with some stuff at school and with my mental heath and my brain was just to scaterd to write. but im back and i am ready to write again!

-cotton

sfw

Youngseph

.Joseph does not understand the concept of crossdressing to well… We all know what Joseph thinks crossdressing is. When his s/o told him he liked to crossplay he was a bit confused, but if it made them happy he’d gladly accept it!

.When he got more used to the fact he actually found it adorable. When he’s out shopping and he happens to see something cute, like a cute skirt or an adorable sweater he would buy it for him. Even if he has no taste in fashion, its the thought that counts.

.He’d actually try crossdressing again if his s/o asked him, but this time seriously he would let him do the make up choose out the clothes. He’d actually enjoy it a lot if it was done right. The boy has no shame after all. He’d show Caesar how amazing he looked and how proud he is of s/o for making him look so cute.

.When his s/o insecure about it Joseph would wipe out his good ol’ tequila Joseph. He would do everything to make his s/o feel happy. He’d pull them into a big hug, dance around the house with them, just having a good time. Tequila Joseph would be the best person to make his s/o smile.

.If his s/o would crossdress inpublic he’d be very protective, if anyone made a rude comment or even looked funny at his s/o they’d be dead that instant. If his s/o feels insecure or embarrassed because of those comments he’d tell him how cute and adorable he looks. And if that doesn’t work a good old smooch would do the trick, he would totally shower them in kisses, public or not, he doesn’t care who sees, the well being of his s/o goes above anything.

oldseph

. Old Joseph would know a lot more about the topic, he would totally be fine with his s/o crossdressing. He also finds it very brave of his s/o. He would have a better grasp of fashion, knowing which patterns and colors to combine, he would be the best guy to go shopping with.

.While Joseph has gotten older his stories still last for a lifetime. When his s/o would feel down you better believe he has told him about tequila Joseph, he remembers it in vivid detail. If he is in the right mood he might recreate the scene just to make his s/o smile even more.

.He would not be against the idea of his s/o doing his make up, he wouldn’t mind it to much if it was just between the two of them. But if anyone sees him beside his s/o he would embarrassed. But he would totally own up to it, “yeah im in drag… So what”. Don’t mess with this old man.

.Joseph loves all things cute, cute dresses, cute sweaters, cute shorts, you name it. He finds his s/o all the more cutter if they are rocking an adorable oversized sweater. He would totally buy his s/o cute dresses even against his his will.

.Something he does quite often is take pictures of his s/o when he’s wearing cute outfits or new ones. He loves to keep an album of all the outfits they’ve worn, he also likes to keep them to show them off to his friends or family members. At times when he’s just sitting in his couch he would look trough the pictures just admiring how pretty his s/o is.

.

nsfw

youngseph

.This guy.. Boy oh boy are they in for a treat. Joseph is very affectionate, kisses, kind words, and needy moans. He isn’t romantic persee, he’s just happy. He loves to see his s/o’s face during sex, doesn’t matter which position he just wants to see if his s/o is enjoying it.

.He loves it if his s/o wears thigh highs, if he wants Joseph to be rough don’t hesitate to wear those thigh highs. It just drives the boy crazy, he’d want to peel those socks down those pretty legs so bad.

.Joseph is a bit rougher in his younger years, especially when he’s very needy. He loves to take his partner from behind. Desperately tugging on their hair, his nails digging into his partners thighs. After such rough love makin he’ll be sure to shower them him with kisses  and affection. Fluffy cuddles are always a must.

.Ones in a while when they’re and intimate it will turn into a hysterical laughing. Someone either bumped their head against the bed frame, one of them would’ve sneezed in the others face, accidental tickling or being headbutted. Something will go wrong and it will end up being the highlight of the day.

.Joseph has a weird thing for clothed sex. He loves it when he’s completely naked and his s/o still wearing half of their clothes. Of course he wont hesitate to peel them off later on during that sweet sweet lovin.

oldseph

. Joseph loves loves LOVES lingerie, especially frilly pink ones. He just cant get over how adorable and sexy it looks on his s/o. If the two of them would be out shopping and he spots a pretty set of lingerie, you bet he’ll buy it for his s/o and convince them to wear it that very night.

.The man has aged a bit and so did his kinks, Joseph loves romantic sex, the passion the intimacy, 2 bodies colliding into one, he loves it. While his younger counterpart loves it rough he would rather want it to stay vanilla. The more passion the more he’ll enjoy it.

.This man has the mouth of a sailor, he curses like no tomorrow. There would be a curse now and then between moans, but when he’s receiving a good blowjob, that’s when the real magic happens. That’s how you make an old man cry of pleasure.

.He loves to praise his partner, if he thinks their doing good he’ll tell them. He especially loves it when they get all embarrassed by it, it just makes him want to do it more.

.After a good night of love making, he loves to just lay in bed and cuddle. Giving his s/o little kisses on their head. Whispering how much he loves them. Just enjoying the company of the person he loves the most.