#it will not hurt me if i *do* lose a bit of weight having significantly overeaten in the last week

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

can I just. shriek. over the way smoothies are marketed so strongly as for weight loss and how oh no we should not put one (1) gram of sugar in it because we MiGhT gEt FaT because I'm just. I'm here looking this stuff up as a way to trick my silly little brain into eating more. I do not need this to be any harder than it already is

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Strap Up

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, pure unadulterated smut, strap, sex (duh), I'm really bad at labeling smut for warnings so just tell me if I'm missing something and I'll add it, explicit language, NSFW Word Count: 2k

Summary: You and Amelia decide to use a new toy for the first time. How will it go? (Hint: it goes really well.)

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Amelia asked, running a hand through your hair.

“I’m sure,” you assured her, pulling her down to your mouth for a kiss. Your hands ran wild over her body, desperate for more. You felt Amelia sink into you, her thumbs at the edges of your eyebrows as she deepened the kiss.

“I just–” she stuttered, pulling away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Amelia.” You grasped her chin in your hands and looked at her, hard. “Just strap up and fuck me.”

She exhaled deeply, letting her eyes roam all the way down your body.

“If you’re sure…”

She got out of bed and started pulling on the strap she’d prepared earlier, at your request.

You lounged, hands folded behind your head, and watched, trying not to laugh.

“What?” she asked, adjusting the straps while you stared at her.

You giggled. “It just looks kind of silly!”

She grinned mischievously and crawled toward you on the bed. “Y/N Y/L/N! Are you laughing at my dick?!”

You chuckled and squirmed as she tickled you, pinning you under her body. “Penises are objectively funny!” you argued.

Amelia kneaded your breasts in her hands, slipping her tongue into your mouth. You let out an involuntary whine and she smiled into your lips. She bit your ear and you couldn’t help but arch your back.

“We’ll see how funny you think it is when you’re coming,” she whispered, her breath hot in your ear.

You cradled the back of her neck, grabbing the hair at her nape and jerking it slightly. She moaned, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Make me then,” you said, your eyes meeting her deep, blue ones. God, you could lose yourself in them.

Amelia ran her tongue down your throat, planting open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. You felt like you were floating as she made her way lovingly down your body. It wasn’t that she was always gentle–she wasn’t. And you usually had the marks on your body to prove it. It was that she was reverent, almost worshipful. It was as if she lost herself in you. And there was nothing that drove you crazier than the feeling of her, the weight of her, on top of you.

It’s not that you minded giving. You really enjoyed it. You were a switch to your core. But Amelia? Amelia was a giver. And, god, you loved to let her. Whatever she needed to do to you, with you, to get you off–and therefore get herself off–you were down for it. At least, except for the strap. Until tonight.

Amelia ran her fingers through your slick folds and you moaned, pushing your hips toward her. She circled your clit with one hand and brushed your bangs out of your face with the other.

“Are you ready?” she asked, looking at you with so much love, so much concern that, honestly, you would have done anything for her. You nodded, lightly stroking her thigh.

“Okay.” She planted a firm kiss on your forehead before brushing the tip of her strap against your glistening entrance, making sure to coat it with plenty of lube.

You whined in anticipation, your chest already heaving. Okay, so maybe you were a little nervous. The only things you’d ever had inside of you were fingers and tampons. And the strap Amelia was wearing, though it was one of the smallest she owned, was still significantly bigger than either of those things.

You felt your body start to stretch as Amelia slowly pushed the head of the strap into you. You groaned as the pain hit you, grabbing at the bedsheets with your fists and clenching your jaws.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Amelia asked, concerned. You could tell by the rough tenor of her voice that she was very turned on, but that she would turn it off just as quickly if that’s what you needed.

You shook your head, eyebrows furrowed. “No, keep going. Just… slow, please.”

Amelia nodded, guiding the strap into you at a snail’s pace, ready to stop moving whenever you said the word. But she felt overwhelmingly aroused watching her strap disappear into you. You were so tight. It had to hurt, she knew. She remembered her first time. It had hurt badly. More because it was a dumb boy who didn’t give a shit about what felt good for her. She wanted it to be different for you. She wanted it to be good. She wanted to make you feel good.

Amelia pushed slowly forward with her hips, watching you closely for any signs that you wanted to stop. When her hips finally hit yours, when she was fully inside you, she let out a shaky gasp. It was taking everything in her not to start thrusting into you, but she wouldn’t do it, not until she was sure you were ready for it.

Your face underneath her was red, and the occasional tear rolled down the side of your face. Taking advantage of this soft moment, relishing being inside of you, Amelia leaned forward, pressing her body into yours, and planted kisses all over your scrunched, burning face.

“You’re doing so good, bean,” she breathed, her own breath heavy and desperate. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, still getting used to the feeling of being filled. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. It did hurt–badly. But it felt good, too, inexplicably good. You felt your walls contracting and releasing and pulsing around Amelia’s strap and you knew, even through the pain, that you wanted more.

You pushed your hips up experimentally and a wave of pleasure rolled over you as the strap hit at a new angle.

Amelia grinned at you, kissing you to swallow your moan.

“Amelia,” you said, breathing heavily.

She brushed a sweaty strand of hair out of your face. “Yeah, baby?”

“Go ahead,” you nodded.

“Go ahead?” she confirmed, grinning goofily.

“Fuck me,” you told her, then thought better of it and grabbed her hand. “Gently, please.”

She leaned down, cupping your face in her hands and staring into your eyes lovingly. She pressed her mouth to yours, and you felt her hips move, the strap slowly moving out of you, then thrusting inward, hitting parts of you that you didn’t even know could be hit.

You gasped in both pain and pleasure, grasping at Amelia’s back for dear life as she moved in and out, in and out. When you managed to open your eyes, you saw that Amelia was watching you intently, no doubt solving you like a puzzle to figure out what you liked and what you didn’t. She was a woman of science, after all.

It was as if your body was out of your control, as if it knew what you needed more than your brain did. Your hips bucked up to meet Amelia’s, your back arching, arms pulling her into you for more, more, more.

Amelia was moaning by now, too, the strap hitting just right against her clit as you pulled her hips to yours. You could tell she was trying hard to keep control of herself when what she really wanted was to chase her high. You knew Amelia’s body like the back of your hand. The way she got there was fast and hard, and she was doing her level best to put off her own pleasure and make sure you were comfortable and enjoying yourself.

You felt the space underneath your stomach tighten, and you knew you were close. You could feel your body pulsing, feel it tightening around Amelia as if it, too, just like your mind and soul, never wanted to let her go.

“Amy,” you gasped, your voice shaky.

She looked down at your wide eyes, relishing the way your breath came faster and faster, the way your body squirmed desperately against hers.

“I need you deeper,” you pleaded. “All the way in. Please, as far as you can go.”

Her brow furrowed. “Are you sure?” she asked, her breath heavy, a light coat of sweat shining on her face. “It might hurt.”

“Please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around her waist to draw her further in.

She didn’t need any more encouragement. Wrapping her arms around your body, she shoved into you as deep as she could, grasping at you, pulling you to her to deepen the thrust, then repeating the motion, again and again, until even she couldn’t control it anymore. She rutted into you, as desperate for release as you were, and nearly as close.

Amy’s head was next to yours, her arms around your neck as she pulled at you, shoving herself deeper, deeper. You were close, you were so close. Amy let out a strangled moan, her breath hot on your ear, and you were coming undone. You gasped and moaned, your hips jerking into her, nails digging into her back, as you yelled her name. “Amy!” you cried. “Fuck!” It felt like it would never end, waves of bliss washing over you, hard and rhythmic and so, so good.

Amelia’s hips rocked against yours, and she kissed you again and again. Your mouth, your eyelids, your nose, your eyebrows. She gasped, pushing herself harder into you.

“I'm close, baby,” she said, shakily.

“Hey,” you said, still out of breath, grasping her chin. “I want you to come inside me.”

Amelia laughed breathily, trying to get enough oxygen in to finish what she’d started. “You know this isn’t a real dick, right?”

“You know what I mean,” you said, guiding her hips with your hands, so that she pushed harder into you. “Come on, baby. Come for me.”

Her breath became more and more frantic, her hips jerking the strap in and out, in and out of you. You could tell by the way her breath caught that she was about to topple over the edge, so you held her tightly, pushing your own hips forward to meet hers. She gasped, thrusting into you as she rode out her high, the strap jerking sporadically into you as it matched her rhythm.

You’d never felt closer to her in your life than you did then, as she lay on top of you, completely spent, covered in sweat, face beet red, her strap still resting inside you. You wanted this forever. You wanted Amelia, always and forever. Inside you. Around you. Touching you. Laughing with you. Kissing you. Sleeping next to you. All of it, always.

You let out another tired moan as Amelia slid the strap out of you, unbuckling the harness and throwing it to the side. She crawled up your body and lay down next to you, both of you a sweaty mess on top of the sheets, breathing heavily. She shot you a cheesy grin, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“What?” you said, turning your body toward her and running a hand through her sweaty hair.

“Still think the strap is silly?” She smirked, a shit-eating look of absolute triumph on her face.

You chuckled. “The strap, no. Penises, yes.”

“How do you feel?” She traced the freckles on your arm. By now, she knew where all of them were. She probably even knew how many.

You exhaled. “Blissed out. Uh… stretched out, too. Probably sore tomorrow.”

Amelia nodded. “But you liked it?”

You placed a hand on your forehead, blushing at the memory. “So much. I feel like that Madonna song.”

“Like a virgin,” Amelia sang, tickling you, her voice wildly off key. “Touched for the very first time.”

You grabbed her hands, giggling. “Alright, Madonna. Shower?”

She kissed your cheek firmly before rolling out of bed. “Like a vi-i-i-irgin.” You rolled your eyes as Amelia’s voice faded into the background, mixing with the sounds of running water as she turned the shower on. “When your heart beats… next to mine.”

[hazyshadeofwintyr]

Dreamling Week Day I: Meowpheus

I am so normal about Dreamling, I can't even begin to explain just how normal I am! Truly! So normal!! The thought of them doesn't send me into a fluffy fluff spiral or anything!!! I promise I'm normal about them!!! Why are you walking away??? Wait—

Anyway, happy Dreamling Week one and all! :3 I don't think I'll write something for every day of it, but here's my first contribution. Expect it up on AO3 at... some point? Enjoy some tooth-rottingly fluffy gay shenanigans. Fuck segues, you don't need segues when you have the Dreaming.

WC: 1,479

----

He was just on the edge of sleep, thoughts drifting off somewhere far away from him. They swayed as a sea, cycling like the tide, the steady in- and out-rush of water and sand. Hob could nearly hear it, if he just listened a little closer— 

A weight leapt onto Hob's bed, waking him from his half-doze. He blinked blearily through the darkness, registering a shape that looked an awful lot like a housecat, only fuck-off huge. A pair of onyx eyes that sparkled through the dim room met his, glowing with distant starlight—the sort that had become nigh-invisible in modern London, so not a reflection or trick of the light—which tickled something at the back of his mind. "Dream?" he mumbled. 

The cat settled beside him, just within his reach. It tilted its head at him. Good evening, Hob Gadling. 

"What're you doing here?" 

Do I need a particular reason to visit a friend? Dream teased, cocking his head. 

"No, it's just—" Hob yawned, cutting himself off. "I'm not used to seeing you without a reason, is all." 

Dream stretched, a low purr rumbling through the bed. Am I bothering you? 

"Not at all." Hob extended a hand, fingers brushing against night-dark fur so soft and feather-fine he could barely feel it. Dream didn't move, so he dug a little deeper, scratching the top of Dream's head. The same bone-deep purr rattled up his arm as Dream leaned into Hob's touch. He was significantly more accepting of touch as a cat than as a... whatever he called that almost-human shape that had graced most of their visits. "I'm not going to make for very good conversation tonight, I'm afraid." 

Then it is fortuitous I did not come for conversation, hm? Dream flicked an ear in a half-joking gesture. Sleep, Hob Gadling. Rest well in my presence.

Hob was, belatedly, glad that Dream had appeared to him in this form—the thought of his hands bruising that marble flesh made his head do all sorts of things he couldn't process. The cat was different—there was no temptation to lose himself in stormy eyes or to kiss the delicate skin in the hollow of Dream's throat. He had spent centuries without even the least sign of reciprocation, but the more frequent visits of the previous six months left him starving in an entirely different way than usual. No, he decided, brushing a knuckle against the warm skin at the base of Dream's ear, the cat was a distraction most welcome. 

He fell asleep with surprising ease for sharing a bed with a large, unfamiliar cat who just-so-happened to be his oldest friend (were he more awake as the words passed his thoughts, he'd chuckle with only the slightest bit of mirth). The deep, soothing purring of cat-Dream didn't hurt, either. It invited sleep, drew it in as though putting him on a sea with his blankets as a wave. Hob wasn't really sure if it was part-and-parcel of Dream's whole thing or not, but the question died like a candle as he faded into unconsciousness. 

They were strolling through an indistinct blur of a park, the sun bright but not burning, each of them holding a cone of soft-serve ice cream. "You must truly wish to see me, Hob Gadling," Dream commented in a voice that had a quality not unlike gravity. His appearance also seemed much more—vibrant or saturated would be the wrong word for how little colour there was about him, but the whites seemed truer, the blacks more absolute. Yet he still blended beautifully with the gentle greens and blues of their surroundings. 

Hob was more awake then he had any right to be, but his mind remained a little sluggish still. At least he could tell he was dreaming. "Is— is this because you were with me?" 

Dream shook his head, the slightest hint of what might be a smile teasing his lips. "No. And I am still with you, in the Waking world. You are the one who called me here." 

"I'm... sorry?" Hob tried, unsure of what one should say in such a circumstance. He wondered if anyone else had ever been in his place before—then dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, a painful pang of jealousy in his heart. His relationship with Dream was still too fragile, still too brittle to test its boundaries. Hob could wait, if he truly had to, for Dream to show some sign of reciprocation; he could also survive millennia on the hope alone. God only knew he'd survived the last few hundred years with little more than hope, at least partially for his strange—and, until recently, nameless—friend. 

Either Hob was showing more than he intended of his feelings, or Dream is just in his head, because those starry eyes softened. "You have no reason to apologise. It is a pleasure to spend time with you." 

"Well, at least the weather is lovely today."  

Dream glanced up at the sky. "Yes, it is," he agreed. 

Hob noticed that his ice cream had yet to melt and tasted it. Tension he hadn't realised he'd been holding disappeared. It tasted like vanilla ice cream, yes, and good vanilla ice cream at that—but beyond that, it tasted of all the times he'd shared dessert with a lover, every hot summer day spent holding hands with somebody he'd loved, every stroll in the park talking about everything and nothing. He closed his eyes and let the flavour wash over him. When he opened them, he found himself sitting opposite Dream at a terraced café, no longer holding ice cream. Instead, his hand rested on the table. 

And Dream's hand rested on his. 

Dream himself remained as impassive as ever. "I find that the weather is fair when I visit you," he mused, lashes beating in slow motion. They were a butterfly's wings, snowflakes falling, a rainbow materialising through scattered droplets of water. 

True romantic that he was, Hob couldn't shake the jolt of joy in his stomach when Dream continued to allow their skin to touch. He wondered how long it'd been since any mortal had been allowed to touch his (his? since when had Dream ever been his?) Dream Lord. "It's been good to see you more frequently, too. And to finally know your name, after all this time." 

"I have come to realise that you deserve a great many things you may never receive," Dream said, "and I feel it is my responsibility to give you whichever of those are in my power." He fell silent for a moment before moving his hand to entwine his fingers with Hob's. Another small smile graced his lips. 

"Is this one of them?" Hob asked, swallowing. 

"Yes and no. You have been an invaluable companion for many years, despite my distance and reluctance to admit it. In this sense, I am merely returning the favour." Dream tilted his head, much as he had as a cat, an unfamiliar sparkle in his eyes. "While I have never paid particular attention to your dreams, I have always been aware of them." 

"Oh," said Hob, the statement sinking in, "oh." His face flushed and, if this were a conversation with anyone else, he would've pulled his hand away to cover his face. Dream's touch simply felt too rare to forego, too precious to lose. "I'm, um. I don't— don't know what to say. Please forgive me for seeing you in that light?" In his defence, Hob hadn't known who or what Dream even was for the first six hundred years, had no idea that his Stranger would be privy to those fantasies. 

Dream—laughed. He actually laughed, the bastard. His laugh was, at most, a dry chuckle, but it was worlds more expressive than Hob ever expected to hear from him. "Hob Gadling," he said, half-smiling, eyes full of care and mirth and secrets and stars, "I am the King of Dreams. Were I displeased, or uncomfortable, with your fantasies of me, they would be well within my ability to stop." 

"You don't mind dreams where I—?" Shag you silly, Hob finished in his thoughts, far too embarrassed to speak those words out loud. 

"You were right, one hundred and thirty-three years ago. I was lonely, and I was too proud to admit it—which, I have come to realise, is exactly why I was so lonely. Only recently have I become aware of my own such... personal flaws." 

"So you'd forgive my being so forward as to..." There was no longer a table between them, only a step that Hob closed with relish. They were so close their chests nearly touched, a breath—though, Hob noticed, Dream didn't breathe—between them. He remained hesitant as he put a hand to Dream's waist. With a smooth, too-fluid motion, Dream did the rest and gardens bloomed glorious behind Hob's eyes.

[bestworstcase]

Maybe the cat wasn’t lying about what they did to the Herbalist but it’s still pretty sus that they popped in when they did, so I’m going with they told a truth and a lie. Can’t have Ruby taking shortcuts to the tree now.

we-ell

i have two layers of answer to this. the first is about how the cat’s power works mechanically (surprising Probably No One, i think the popular fanon is wrong); the second is about the cat’s role in the ever after (not their individual purpose, but the part they play in the broader scheme) and the specific way they’ve gone wrong as a consequence of their private agenda.

#1: the cat’s magic

my reading of the cat hasn’t actually hasn’t changed significantly outside the narrow scope of their desire to get to remnant and the level of desperation they feel (& how this drives their interactions with team rwby and jaune). i maintain it’s a huge reach to interpret what the cat does with other afterans as tantamount to brainwashing or puppetry, and frankly i’m skeptical that the tree would even allow that to happen if the cat tried it.

we have two (on screen) examples of the cat giving a bit of their heart to another afteran, and one counter-example of what it looks like when they wield that power maliciously. there’s also the hawker, but as that happens off-screen and involves a bit character about whom we know very little (although what we do know is interesting), he’s mostly here to cast unverifiable suspicion on the cat. like we have no idea what “i gave him something new to do” entailed, really. so i put a lot more weight on the incidents we’re allowed to see for ourselves.

the red prince: the cat (and to a lesser extent, the toy soldiers and the herbalist) all imply that the characterization of the red king in the book was more or less accurate to the real deal; he was politer and more reasonable, and he helped alyx after she beat him despite being “a crying mess” over losing. as the prince, he’s—well, he’s four, lol. his purpose is the same, but he lacks the emotional maturity and sense of fair play he once had.

nobody seems especially pleased about this change. the toy soldiers are nursing a lot of unspoken resentment toward humankind because of it, and the herbalist invokes the red king’s regression into the prince as an example of ascension gone wrong, specifically because the red king didn’t have a clear understanding of his purpose before he tried to change. (we can’t be completely sure that the cat wasn’t involved, but it really doesn’t seem like they were—it sounds like the king went to the herbalist for help, instead.)

so, the girls get into this spat with the prince over his game, the prince throws a tantrum, and the cat intervenes.

“you must be so distraught, not able to do the one thing you were put on this acre to do. i understand.” <- the cat is speaking both to the prince’s distress now and the king’s original crisis, which makes sense because the red prince is the king’s crisis. the red king ascended prematurely, without full understanding of his purpose—contrast the paper pleasers—and as a consequence his problem was magnified.

“surely you don’t want to behead them? they are but fragile things without a head. if you get angry and break them, they might not ever come back.” <- after expressing empathy (and articulating what the prince is feeling and why—defusing tantrums 101!), the cat gently reminds the prince that acting in anger will have consequences he doesn’t like. the prince responds to this quite well—he calms down and engages with what the cat said, and even though he’s whining it’s… pretty clear that the cat has already changed his mind, there’s just a lot of emotional inertia because he’s four.

“i know, your majesty. it truly isn’t fair. you must play your game and win at any cost. it must hurt your heart; let me help.” <- it is at this point that the cat gives him a bit of their heart. i think the timing is meaningful. the prince changes his mind before the cat shares their heart; “b-bu-b-but it’s my birthday! and they wouldn’t let me—” is how small children talk when they’re reluctantly coming down from a tantrum. he knows the cat is right, but he’s still upset, so he’s trying to come up with a reason that will persuade the cat. (<- adults do this also, but with little kids it’s more obvious bc little kids are a lot clumsier about it.)

the cat answers that post-tantrum squirming with more empathy talk, upon which the sharing of their heart is a punctuation mark, and then the prince flops down to cry. the cat’s heart doesn’t change his mind, it precipitates his release of emotion—the overwhelmed, sad, scared feeling underneath his more fleeting burst of temper. the pain the cat spoke to from the start. that feeling was always there, otherwise the prince wouldn’t have responded to the cat’s words the way he did, but it was kind of… stuck. the bit of the cat’s heart jostled it loose.

and how does the cat describe the red king after he lost his game? he “couldn’t cope […] a crying mess.” the cat interrupts and diverts the prince’s flash of temper, verbalizes the upset feelings underneath to help guide the prince out of the tantrum, and then—as i see it—reminded him of what he did before, as the red king, in this same situation. the red king cried, the prince could not, so the cat shared a little bit of memory to help him cry.

that the cat then advises ruby to leave before the prince changes his mind is also pretty telling. they didn’t fundamentally change anything about how the prince feels or what he wants, they merely diverted the tantrum and brought some of the underlying feeling out. but with the spineless toy soldiers fussing and trying to appease him, it’s probably not going to take very long for the prince to get worked up again.

that’s… not mind control, that’s parenting. that’s best practices for dealing with an overwrought small child, you empathize and talk about what they’re feeling in simple terms to help them process emotions that are too big for them to handle by themselves. the cat sharing their heart is just a heightened, magical representation of the empathy and guidance the cat gives with their words.

the herbalist: unlike the prince, the herbalist is an adult, and we don’t know anything about what he was before. but consider the way he introduces himself to the girls: “i am an herbalist. the herbalist, at least… hmm, until i’m not anymore.” immediately, as soon as we know who this character is, the idea that he’s not going to be the herbalist forever is there. in a world where people introduce themselves by declaring their purpose, the herbalist equivocates. “i am this… for now.”

he’s thinking about changing. it’s at the forefront of his mind. consider his general demeanor in that light. he’s more than a little curt with the girls, he doesn’t really pay attention to what they’re asking, he grumbles that “everyone needs help these days” and “this is how a king becomes a prince” and “my work is never done”—he does want to help them, but he is clearly NOT enjoying himself. he’s cranky and jaded and frustrated because he feels like everyone comes to him expecting him to just magically solve their problems without them having to do any work. (<- put a pin in that for part two.) he’s thinking pretty hard about calling it quits—hard enough that he essentially introduces himself as The Temporary Herbalist.

the herbalist is kind of the reverse of the paper pleasers: they’re ready to ascend and know exactly what they are (delicate) they want to become (pleasing but also resilient), but an external force is holding them back. conversely, the herbalist wants to ascend but isn’t ready yet because he doesn’t know quite what he is or what he wants to become. he knows he’s not happy, but why? how can he fix a problem he doesn’t know how to describe?

as with the prince, the herbalist’s mind is changed before he gets the bit of the cat’s heart—he coughs and exclaims “that’s a bit too much!” about his own handiwork before the cat even begins their speech. “oh, herb. look at you! you’re done. you’re supposed to be helping others find their way, but you’ve lost your own.” <- the cat is describing the problem outlined above; the herbalist is stuck and generally not having a good time and he knows it, but he’s been muddling around not really able to see what’s wrong.

but once the cat gives him a piece of their heart, it snaps into focus. “oh, i do apologize. i… always was a bit of a workaholic.”

always, eh?—now he might just be saying that idiomatically, sure, but it’s kind of a tantalizing word to drop in this context. afterans reincarnate in accordance with their choices, each life shaped by the desires or ambitions or mistakes of the one before. they don’t remember, but the heart rarely forgets. the cat gives the herbalist some of their heart, and the herbalist goes aha! i’ve always had this problem! bye! and bounces. and “workaholic” is hardly an inaccurate description of his behavior—“everyone needs help these days,” “my work is never done,” this isn’t a new idea the cat put in his head, it’s just a clarifying flash of insight.

the reason i trust what the cat says about what they did for the herbalist is because their explanation is accurate to what we see. “his heart had grown too weak to hear the ever after calling him, so i gave him a little of mine” is just a more poetic way of saying “he was stuck in a rut and miserable, so i gave him a little nudge to help him unstick himself.”

and ruby: obviously what the cat does to ruby is starkly different, but the specific thing i want to highlight is how the magic itself works, mechanically. the cat forces their paws INTO her chest. it’s violent and clearly extremely painful for her, but it also doesn’t really seem to… work? there’s a lot of glowing light and pixels flying everywhere, and it definitely takes a lot out of her physically—she goes limp—but it never settles or flows into her. unlike with the prince and the herbalist, whose own emotions were drawn out by the cat’s magic, the cat’s intention seems to have been to write-over ruby’s heart with a copy of their own, producing a human version of themself who could go to remnant and find their maker. i’m… not actually convinced that their magic can really Do That, and i think that’s probably why they decided possessing an empty vessel was a “much better solution”—they realized that Plan A just wouldn’t work, even if they had ruby to hand.

but, compare the mechanical workings of the cat’s assault of ruby with what they do to other afterans. with the afterans, there’s no force or violence, only a gentle touch. the magic/heart piece moves upward in a spiral around the recipient to their heart, and then kind of… poof. in the herbalist’s case it doesn’t even seem to go into him, it goes into the clasp of his mantle. and as it settles there’s this emotional release—the prince cries, the herbalist heaves a sigh of relief. also, for both of them, the cat’s magic is accompanied by a verbal offer: “let me help,” and “here, take a little bit of my heart.”

it’s impossible to say for certain—bc we don’t have any examples of the normal usage of this magic being refused—but all of this added together, plus the foundational importance of choice to the ever after generally, leaves me with the pretty strong impression that the cat can’t force their heart into someone who doesn’t want it. they try really hard to do it on the technicality of ruby saying “i don’t want to be me anymore,” but all they manage to do is hurt her physically and pile on more emotional trauma. they don’t actually make her into themself. because she doesn’t want to be them, either. similarly, the cat doesn’t make the prince or the herbalist more like themself, and they don’t plant thoughts or feelings that weren’t already there; the piece they offer to both characters is explicitly their insight, their ability to empathize with what the prince and the herbalist are feeling. this is why their heart releases feelings that were already stoppered up in the prince’s and the herbalist’s hearts.

it’s Magic Empathy.

and there’s nothing to suggest that someone who didn’t want to be empathized with couldn’t just brush it off—frankly jaune’s resolute hatred of the cat and the cat’s failure to wear him down is probably grounds enough on its own to conclude that the cat can’t brainwash people. it’s not like the cat didn’t have the time to gradually fill a crack here, replace a splinter there, small piece by small piece until most of jaune was actually the cat! jaune’s plenty broken enough for the cat to work at the small-scale level they do for the prince or the herbalist. they’re surely desperate enough to have tried that. and clearly it doesn’t work that way, because jaune is still very much entirely jaune. just as ruby was still entirely ruby after the cat did their damnedest to overwrite her.

#2: the cat’s role

my interpretation—as i’ve said before—is that the cat’s role in the ever after is to act as the collective memory. the harmony between the cat describing what they do as “giving little pieces of their heart” to other afterans, remarking that “the heart very rarely forgets” to explain how identities persist across lifetimes, and the blacksmith saying “nothing, no one, is ever truly lost” is striking—and i don’t think it’s a coincidence that all three occur together in one episode and that it’s the episode where ascension is conceptually outlined.

i think their narrative role (<- it bears repeating that i read the ever after itself as a fictional story brought to life, so while the afterans are sapient and autonomous beings, the fundament of their identities is what they were invented to do in the story, the themes and character arcs and plot developments they service) is to teach the lessons alyx needed to learn—namely, to teach her how to practice empathy and draw her out of her own head. the nature of their magic is a literal expression of that narrative role (<- semblance-adjacent, but in a more straightforward way suitable for a children’s story) and their character, their individual purpose, the thing that they are that makes them suitable for this narrative role, is insatiable curiosity because the greater part of empathy is asking questions and being truly interested in hearing the answers, and the cure for being too preoccupied with yourself to connect to the world around you is, likewise, becoming interested in how the world works and what happens in it outside of you.

and we do see that this is how the cat operates generally—they empathize with the prince and with the herbalist and defuse conflicts by encouraging self-reflection and consideration for others and their magic literally knocks bottled-up emotions lose, allowing them to be seen and understood and responded to.

i think this is probably why the cat keeps trying to “wear ruby down” by…. [checks notes] …standing up for her when she’s too distraught or confused to stand up for herself. or why they undercut their own jabs about ruby using them by saying in the same breath that they were wrong for treating her like an entertaining toy. gsvcgks the cat was literally DESIGNED to model empathy and constructive conflict-resolution, and they’re trying to manipulatively sand somebody down to the point of giving up and wanting to die, and it’s not going well for them. they make zero progress until they LEAVE! evil points for trying, but neo did all the heavy lifting and ruby’s actual friends hauled a lot more weight than the cat did simply because they, unlike the cat, couldn’t see what was wrong.

all of this to say, what twigged for me with the new context provided by 9.8 is what the herbalist said: “help getting… to the tree? ah, yes, everyone needs help these days. [darkly] everyone.”

the cat’s role—not their purpose, but their “job” in the ever after—is to remind people of things they’ve forgotten, help them solve problems that they can’t figure out by themselves. they aren’t an extension of the tree (like jaune seems to think), but by nature of what they are—a cat most curious, with the ability to share their heart, which is everyone’s heart!—they’re integral to the process of ascension, because in order to ascend without it going wrong, you need to understand the problem you have and the solution you want to achieve. to gain this understanding, you need to be able to see yourself with clear eyes. the herbalist explains the principle, and the paper pleasers demonstrate what it looks like in practice. the first step to ascending is to know yourself.

the herbalist is overworked and burnt out because the cat isn’t doing their job. the cat has become so obsessed with this one all-consuming question, this burning need to find a way to remnant so they can find out why their maker has left them here, that they’re not doing anything else. they haven’t been molding the other afterans to suit their whims—they’ve been IGNORING them, and the herbalist ran himself ragged trying to pick up the slack. everyone needs help, and these days the cat isn’t helping. they help the prince because rescuing the girls puts them on good terms with humans who might be more useful to them than jaune. they help the herbalist because the herbalist’s trial revealed which of the girls was most vulnerable, and a heroic return to save her would ameliorate any irritation provoked by their distractibility.

(the herbalist screwed that one up for them by dropkicking himself down to the tree without so much as a goodbye—i don’t understand why so many people seem to think that the cat forced him to ascend, because the herbalist’s ascension is unambiguously really bad for the cat! it opens a fissure between them and the girls and forces them to explain ascension itself in great detail in order to regain a fraction of the trust the girls had in them before. they’re NOT happy about it. they’re palpably irritated through the whole discussion on ascension, and that isn’t because they don’t like sharing information, it’s because the herbalist wasn’t supposed to DO THAT and now the girls are suspicious and uncomfortable.)

but the rest of the afterans? the cat is totally checked out. the only thing they want to do is LEAVE. and that’s how you get situations like the red king becoming the red prince—the cat took off with alyx and left the king a crying mess, and the herbalist wasn’t able to give him the help he needed because the herbalist’s purpose is to brew remedies, not to diagnose.

why was the red king so upset? he couldn’t cope after losing the game, says the cat. a crying mess. very sad. that’s what the king brought to the herbalist, and that’s what made him into the prince. but the problem wasn’t that he lost. when the girls ask why the prince was so much meaner, the cat lets the true reason slip: the red prince may not remember alyx’s deception, the heart very rarely forgets. the red king was devastated because alyx broke his trust. the cat understands this implicitly, because they know every one of the red king’s lifetimes and they can see the pattern very easily. the red king, evidently, did not, and without the cat to help him see more clearly, he became a toddler riddled with anxiety about his opponents cheating.

they’re not a puppet-master making the ever after dance to their tune. they’re neglectful. they’re supposed to be offering insight and empathy to people who can’t articulate what’s wrong, but they’re singularly focused on their own desire; lately they only help when they get something out of it.

and it’s not been long enough for it to really become a problem—the cat’s probably had this question smoldering quietly in the back of their mind for thousands of years, but until they met jaune there really wasn’t anything they could DO about it. but once there were people from remnant in the ever after, searching for a way back home? suddenly it became possible. maybe they could go back with these humans! maybe they could find their maker and finally ask! maybe—! and then alyx ditched them, and jaune wanted nothing to do with them, they lost their one chance, and i think they probably just… could not. handle that. there’s nothing in the world they want to know more than they want to know this, and they found a tiny spark of hope for the first time ever, and when that spark was extinguished again, that’s when the seed of obsession sprouted roots. and then it grew like mint.

so this hasn’t been going on for a very long time. a decade or two, at most. only since alyx left. that’s not enough time for a lot to change. but there’s some warning signs, here and there. the red king’s botched ascension. the herbalist stretched way too thin because everyone needs help these days, a kind of help he isn’t able to provide. the cracks are just beginning to show. for the ever after, it’s probably for the best that the cat is getting it out of their system now, instead of festering on it for centuries.

[foggieststars]

are there any other girl charles snippets that ur not planning on including in the actual fic and therefore are willing to share with us instead? 👉😄👉

YES! i might have to cut this scene and if i dont cut it ill have to SIGNIFICANTLY alter it. for plot based reasons. so please enjoy <3 set vaguely after charles finds out max told lando they've been fucking. lol

---

She asks him about it later.

"You told Lando?" Charles asks, hating the way her voice has taken on that accusatory tone, almost shrill in its intensity.

"Yes?" Max says, shooting her a confused glance. “You told Pierre, no?” 

“That’s different,” she hedges. “That’s Pierre.” Max’s face goes stormy, like it always does when Charles mentions Pierre.

"Oh, so it is okay for you to tell people, but not me?" Max accuses, scowling.

Charles sighs. She wishes she'd thought to put her shirt on before having this conversation. It feels wrong to argue with her tits on show.

"No - I just. You have a lot more to lose than I do. By telling people. I just don't understand why you did it." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Especially I do not understand why you are telling Lando, of all people. You know he cannot keep anything a secret."

Max crosses his arms, looking down at his feet. Charles wants to reach out and draw him into her arms. He looks vaguely crestfallen, in a way that hurts to watch more than she could ever have expected.

When Max does speak, his tone is subdued. “I wanted to brag a bit, I guess. It was stupid. He didn’t even believe me, anyway,” he laughs, shrugging a shoulder. “Who would?” 

“What?” Charles asks, cutting a glance at him. 

“You’re - I mean, look at you. Who is ever going to think you’d be with me? The guys you’ve dated before were all models.”

Her heart stops momentarily in her chest. “Is that what we are?”

Max pauses for a moment, caught off-guard. “What?” he swallows. 

“Dating?” Charles says, twisting the loose edge of the duvet cover between her fingers. Underneath the weight of it, where Max can’t see her nervous motions.

There’s a pregnant pause, and then Max laughs. It sounds nervous. “Of course not,” he says, smiling at her. “But still. I wanted to tell someone, I think. I am sorry. I didn’t know you did not want people knowing. I guess I should have thought about this.”

[findingmypeace]

I had a session with my dietitian 2 weeks ago that was eye opening. It was about body image and the type of language I use towards myself regarding both my body and eating. We did explore about what might have caused these beliefs but that’s for a different post.

(I just found out you can make a text cut on mobile now! Awesome!)

I want to make it clear that behind the cut is a significant amount of internalized fat phobia. Please DON’T read this if you’ll be triggered by talk of body hatred, self-judgement, and language that views larger bodies as disgusting. I also want to make clear that what is written behind the cut is how I view only myself. I have never understood why I see myself this way but have never thought of other people in this light. Why can’t I use that to stop judging myself? If I never think of people this way, wouldn’t others be feeling the same way? Why I can’t I get myself to believe that about my own body?

Anyway, PLEASE read at your own risk. And, anon, it’s a long read and, yes, I feel guilty about it.

The summer of 2019 my psychiatrist had me take a leave from work. It was the summer after my attempt and I wasn’t ready to be back at work. I would buy a specific snack food. I would eat 1-2 at a time and then I would say to myself “just 1-2 won’t hurt. It’ll be fine because it’s within your calorie limit.” I used that to rationalize to myself not purging it. But then I would find myself doing that several times a day and not purging it. That adds up. That’s how I gained all the weight.

The language I tell myself about that time:

“I hate myself because I was just being lazy” and basically not getting off my ass and purging it.

“I did this to myself. This is all my fault” referring to how much weight I gained.

I feel so guilty for “allowing” myself to keep it down resulting in so much weight gain.

“How could I do this to myself? I hate myself.”

Ultimately what it comes down to is that I despise myself for that summer. Until then, meaning my entire life, my weight was in an entirely different…bracket. I’m not sure of the exact word I would use to describe it. That doesn’t feel ‘right’. I was just at a completely different weight..location (?) than I am now.

This is a huge part of why I have been so resistant to treatment. I ‘got myself’ to a significantly higher weight and then I gained even more by going to treatment. And then I got myself back down to the place where I started treatment (the point where I had been “lazy and allowed” myself to get to by snacking so much) and then I went back to treatment again. Right now, I’m a little bit above that ‘start of treatment’ number. What if I go to treatment and get to a new even higher high weight both because that’s always a possibility and because I didn’t get my weight low enough before going?

This is why the eating disorder part of me feels like everyone else is judging me and seeing me in a different light for getting to this high of a weight. Basically seeing me as I see myself. And I am absolutely desperate to lose as much weight as possible before going to treatment so it doesn’t make me get to an new even higher high weight. My ed tells me I’m disgusting and I hate myself for causing myself to get this big.

Other people can be larger. I still love them and enjoy their company and don’t view them the way I see myself. I never use those words for others. Why do I still say those things to myself? It is so ingrained that it’s automatic. I hear it in my head every time I eat or drink hydrating fluids. I don’t want to go to treatment. I’m going to hate myself even more.

[tofangirlornottofangirl]

ya know chances for gojo having a loving partner in the manga have died alongside geto no literally, i could never realistically imagine him with anyone else, even he never showed any interest besides geto if we gonna interpret it that way? but at least i can rest easy that his fangirls got him covered in fanfics

like listen, as much as i try to avoid them, i've seen some pretty good and well characterized fanfics where he actually finds love in another person (aka self inserts, ocs, readers you name it)

bottom line, this is kinda outta nowhere but i've seen one of ur posts about him so i just wanted to share, hope u okay with that :)

if we go super realistic, then unless his partner is super strong and capable of protecting/defending themselves, they will automatically have a target on their back. like gojo had bounties on his head as a child, but he became stronger and basically unkillable when he got older. anyone he is too close to is a target for people who want to get to him somehow, we even see this with people who are under his care/his students. the people in power playing politics will use these people to hurt gojo because they can't get to them. ie realistically gojo's biggest weaknesses are the people he chooses to let in. (this is literally also canon with the sealing, flashbacks and basically everything that happened with geto, and what not). so like, realistically the best option would have been yuki if they were attracted to each other. i suspect gojo keeps most people out either consciously to keep a distance or because he has emotionally just developed that way and unconsciously keeps an emotional distance. hence the playboy appearance but i don't think that's him being an actual playboy, just personally. it feels more like he doesn't go much further than light-hearted banter and flirting, and it's pretty clear to anyone that he's not emotionally attached (if we're talking short term relationships/dating or something like flings even. he's not breaking hearts by being deceptive, if he's breaking hearts it's because people want him but can't have him. just what it seems like to me personally)

[Also I've literally never thought about this before. this is just what came to mind right now after reading your ask.]

If we disregard any of those things and give gojo a little bit of a nicer hc world to live in where things didn't go as wrong, it seems like geto was basically the only person he ever learned to rely on for anything, someone to share his burdens, and he was the only person who got to him as a person, not the strongest, not a weapon, not the power ceiling size eyes user but as simply satoru. he probably learned to be emotionally vulnerable for the first time ever with geto because geto was strong and capable of taking care of himself , but also saw satoru as the lost and lonely teenager he was (look how serious/scary he seemed as a kid. that kid saw and knew too much. the "fun" personality he developed is probably a result of some kind of nihilism to deal with the reality that he would be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders). so no matter what the nature of their relationship was, it was likely gojo's strongest bond and the one that had the most impact on him. and then he couldn't save geto, despite being the strongest, which made him question what that power was even good for if he couldn't even save the people closest to him. he decided he needed allies that would be just as strong if not stronger than him. because then he wouldn't have to keep saving or losing people alone.

[as an aside, personally, power dynamics in a (romantic) relationship, ie one person having significantly more power over the other person in a relationship, is my personal biggest nightmare/pet peeve. i hate unequal relationships. if the person with power isn't a narcissistic manipulative asshole, then the relationship sucks for both people. sure you can probably learn a lot but there are other ways to do that]

anyway, I'm glad we get to discuss some of the emotional and relational aspects of jjk because there's so much subtext. most people in the story have heavy heavy trauma in their lives. more than half of the cast don't even have a family or, well, anyone other than the people at jujutech to rely on. and it was understood from the character dialogues that a lot of them (aside from gojo's students, who are specifically being taken in a different direction) choose to keep their distance from other sorcerers so they don't have to keep mourning the deaths of their friends and peers all the time. so yeah.

sorry your ask seemed light-hearted and this got a bit heavy. i'm just at a point in life where i have to consider relationships with other people way more than i want to so these topics have become relevant in my life now

I don't even remember how we got here lol. Sorry

[arabellaflynn]

Well, I survived Thanksgiving. The rat photos all went up on my Instagram, where I would recommend you follow if you want to see more small fuzzy animals. I don't really post photos of me too much, but I do occasionally show you all my handsome collection of vermin. The new cage set is a hit, including a new design of under-shelf toob that gives Les Fromages great joy and keeps them from tearing the shelf cover off, which they normally do. 

Mickie spent the rest of the weekend scaring the hell out of me. He didn't really want to come out for Ratsgibing dinner, hence why you did not get the usual sweet sweet Toon Bros mukbang video. The next day he was clearly in a lot of pain -- didn't want food, didn't want water, breathing hard, nose all red and crusty with porphyrin-snot. I couldn't find any wounds or any spots that made him jump, so I don't have any idea what he did. It might have been a soft tissue injury that didn't hurt unless he moved a certain way; Mickie is a magical combination of dim, arrogant, and inattentive that leads him to doze off on the edge of their shelf and then roll over in his sleep. Or, as he didn't want to groom me when I pet him like he normally does, he might have jammed an incisor or otherwise hurt something inside his mouth. 

In any case, I did the only thing you can do when that happens: Give him a load of painkillers and some valerian-laced frosting, so he could nap until it all kicked in. Even if I could figure out what he'd hurt, you can't really splint or bandage a rat. They just chew it off. Some people have had some success building them a tiny Cone of Shame post-surgery, but that's actually pretty difficult. They're not built like cats and dogs, with a neck significantly smaller than their head -- a rat can squash their entire body through any hole they can jam their skull through, so it's a tricky to get the thing tight enough to stay on without hurting the rat. Plus they have the cat thing going, where either you would have to be omnipresent and omnipotent or the rat would have to be heavily sedated to keep them from climbing things, and there's a good chance the cone would get caught.

Fortunately, a bolus of Tylenol and a good night's sleep did him a lot of good. I still have no idea what was wrong, but it's mostly not wrong now, which is pretty common for injuries. Rats heal up fast. He seems a little awkward when he climbs around, especially in the back end, but I can't tell if he's favoring a leg or if he's just a clumsy middle-aged little (big, squishy) fucker. He got woken up for ibuprofen/Tylenol q6h the first day, q8h-ish the second, and now he's getting ibuprofen morning and night for a bit just in case. It's not uncommon for big rats to develop weakness/stiffness/arthritis in their hind end when they get older; just like humans, the more weight you put on a joint over a long period of time, the more it wears down. This is about the age Tseng started needing NSAIDs bid, and he got another solid six months or so with excellent QoL, so assuming Mickie doesn't break his neck falling off some shit he'll be around for his second Ratmas.

Aside from that, I'm my usual level of disintegrating. A lot of what keeps me functioning is having a regular schedule. This time of year, a lot of classes and work/volunteer shifts get canceled, either for travel or because the people involved are getting ready for special annual events. The events all cost money, so I don't get to go unless I'm involved as tech or talent. I try to make sure I have one day completely off every week, but not too much more than that, because if I have too much time to sit around and contemplate my navel I start losing my mind. Things being closed mean there's a block of days at the end of the year when I have no outside workspaces, and that plus the weather mean I'm pretty much stuck in my apartment.

I love the rats, but they're not very good conversationalists, yannow?

I try to have plans set up, but being sad and adrift makes me tired, and being tired makes it harder to pretend I'm not sad and adrift. I do pick up some extra bits of work, but my regular work closes for the holidays, and things I do for the holidays don't pay out until afterwards, so money gets tighter than usual. It's a lot of wandering around, seeing nice things that I would love to have and having to ask myself, "Do I really need that to survive?" The answer is always no, and I know that, but it's really tedious to have that conversation with myself over and over again.

The thing that actually bothers me the most is gifts. I don't necessarily miss getting a lot of stuff. I don't need all that much, and if I do need something I eventually figure out how to buy it for myself. Having people hand me stuff that signifies they thought about me, at least a little, when I wasn't right there in front of them, I kind of miss. I don't care if it's a candy cane with pipe cleaner antlers and a pair of googly eyes stuck on it. That means they remembered I eat candy! The cost is not the point. But what I really miss is having the resources to give things to people. I am frighteningly good at putting together gift baskets that are appropriate to both the recipient and the occasion. I find it fun. It's a pleasing kind of puzzle-solving: Given everything I know about this person, and a budget to stick to, what collection of items would be most appreciated and look prettiest in a bag or basket? If I get it right, somebody's happy. None of them are expensive -- I don't think any one basket has ever topped $30 -- and I get most of the detail doo-dads at the Dollar Tree, but it's a lot of my entertainment over the holiday season, and I don't get to do it anymore, and that makes me extra sad.

[Gifts in general can be fraught for me. I always got big ticket items from my parents growing up. And frankly after I passed the age where my taste in toys was easily predicted from the contents of that year's Montgomery Ward catalog, the only reason I got anything I could use is because I wrote down the exact item I wanted, including model number and specifications, and handed it to my mother. After the invention of Amazon, she got emailed a link every year. I always picked a piece of consumer electronics between $100-200, and holding my mother down to that amount of money was an epic struggle that deserves an essay of its own. People paying enough attention to give me something I would actually want, without me having to point and ook at it first, is something I didn't get until I was old enough to handle my own gift exchanges with friends.]

Most of my holiday spirits get channeled into the rats. I can give them a used teabag for Christmas and they'll be delighted, which is good, because that's about my budget. Basically everything that makes them happy in life, and everything I need to decorate their cage, is available at the local Dollar Tree. Their holiday tchotchkes this year have a red buffalo check theme, which conveniently matches both a blanket I have and some fabric I have leftover from Ratmas past, so I'm running with it. I dug around in my sewing stash and got their holiday hammocks done over the weekend, plus a second stuffed tree, so I'm ahead of the game. 

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[jingyismom]

Thanks everyone for the prompts! I decided to try and knock these all out in one go:

@thegirlwhotrashcans: remember, you asked for it. au, nobody dies, wwx and yanli bodyswap. they're married to lwj and jzx. 100% crack. bonus points if jin zixuan completely loses his shit and lwj looks very calm but loses his sh*t after everything is back to normal

@alightbuthappypen: Competency kink! One or both of them (when I say 'them' I mean wangxian obvs, I know what I'm about) getting hot and bothered about the other being amazing. On a nighthunt maybe? Or anywhere else that strikes your fancy!

@hearteyeswangji: WRITE MORE P*RN

I think I can manage that. With a few tweaks, accidental seriousness, and broad, ridiculous fix-its tacked on. I have no idea how long this might be. Let’s try it in installments? I’ll reblog and add on as I go. Maybe it’ll be fun. We’ll find out.

Disclaimer that this is just gonna go for it with no revising and no beta readers, so pls do not hold me to any conceivable standard of coherency thx

--

WILL INCLUDE: wangxian, xuanli, let jyl and lwj be friends agenda, canon divergence, fix-it, everybody lives, arranged marriage, bodyswap, light angst, getting together, Attempts at Comedy, eventual (light?) wangxian smut

The Sunshot Campaign has just been won. Everyone goes over to Jin Guangshan’s house after the Nightless City banquet, to Negotiate Stuff, and some hasty political marriages happen resulting in Xuanli Wedded Bliss and Wangxian Un-confessed Wedded Tension. Then, suddenly...a curse befalls our brave heroes.

--

Wei Wuxian wakes suddenly, feeling odd. He’s sleeping on his stomach for one thing, which is not his usual, but he feels warm and comfortable enough that he doesn’t think it strange. But then there is the scent of peonies and gardenias, which is both familiar and alien, somehow. It makes him open his eyes. 

Which is when he sees the hand before him on the bolster. It is slender and elegant. Small. Pale. Familiar? Wearing a jade bangle. He pushes himself up a bit, startled, only to see the hand move when he does. 

The hand. Is his hand. He stares at it. The shock of it, coupled with the early hour, leave his mind working very slowly.

At length, he becomes aware of an odd weight across his back, which then shifts. Wei Wuxian turns.

He is met with the sleepy, moon-eyed stare of one Jin Zixuan, still cradling him in his arms.

“What the fuck,” says Wei Wuxian. His voice is. Soft. And high.

He would think this was all some messed-up dream if not for the fact that his dreams of late have all been messed up in an entirely different way. He’s also certain, in an odd, detached way, that he never would have imagined the battle scars that mar Jin Zixuan’s distressingly visible skin.

Jin Zixuan’s brow furrows, and he blinks. “A-Li?”

“...What the fuck.”

~~~

When Lan Wangji wakes at his customary hour, he is just slightly more tired than usual. The coverlet over him is oddly heavy, but he does not give it any thought until light from the rising sun slips over an unfamiliar sill and into his eyes. His entire body goes tense as he remembers. 

Jinlintai. The long hours of debate, of negotiation. The hasty marriages. 

He sits up in his strange bed and turns. There, in the bed opposite, is Wei Ying’s sleeping form. Close, yet still distant. Safe, at least.

Lan Wangji relaxes, and takes a breath. It was a near thing, keeping the sects from demanding more and more from Wei Ying, from treating him like a criminal instead of the hero he is. But somehow, Jiang Wanyin and Xiongzhang ended up on the same page, defending him, working tirelessly toward a compromise with the more critical parties. And now Lan Wangji has the dubious honor of ‘keeping Wei Ying in check,’ as Yao-zongzhu so inelegantly put it, through marriage. 

A strictly political marriage. A convenient solution. To bind them together, to keep Wei Ying tied under the umbrella of Lan Wangji’s rigid honor. 

It is unclear, as of yet, if Wei Ying resents this arrangement. He has not been himself since Nightless City, and the destruction of Wen Ruohan’s forces. First his long coma, then a lingering tiredness that he has not seemed able to shake, which dampens his normally-vivid expressions of feeling.

Lan Wangji is worried. But this, at least, Wei Ying has made clear is unwelcome. He seems to want to pretend that nothing has changed. Not about himself, and not between the two of them. Lan Wangji has done his best to honor his wishes, despite everything.

Now, he rises and dresses before sinking into his morning meditation. It is still strange to do so fully dressed, weighed down by the propriety required for the public, but it has felt necessary, now that Wei Ying shares chambers with him. A physical manifestation of the barrier between them, more important than ever now that they are, bizarrely, married. 

Before his meditation is finished, he hears Wei Ying stir. It is unusual for him to wake so early. Lan Wangji’s eyes snap open, immediately searching him for signs of pain.

Wei Wuxian turns over, then goes very still. He sits bolt upright, searching the bed with wild eyes, then turns them on the room at large. When they land on Lan Wangji, he curls in on himself, the fingers of one hand tightening at the collars of his sleeping robe, clutching it closed.

“La—Lan-er-gongzi?” 

His voice is oddly breathy, and his eyes...they are wide with confusion, with just the slightest tinge of fear. Lan Wangji is struck nearly senseless by the term of address, aberrant in Wei Ying’s mouth.

“What is wrong?”

Searching the room again, Wei Wuxian moves toward the edge of the bed with a strangely graceful modesty. It looks alien on his long limbs. “My...my husband. Where…?”

The word jolts through Lan Wangji’s entire body. He has never heard Wei Ying say it before. He has...wanted to hear it. Dearly, he realizes suddenly. But it sounds wrong. Distressed. Everything Wei Ying says sounds wrong.

“Wei Ying,” he says. 

Wei Ying’s eyes snap to his. “A-Xian? Where is he? Is he with A-Xuan? Are they alright?”

Lan Wangji blinks at him, uncomprehending, for several seconds. Then he begins to understand.

“You are not—”

The doors to their chambers burst open, and Jiang Yanli rushes in. The tasteful purple and gold robes she has adopted in the few days since the weddings are loose, uncharacteristically askew—not impreprietous, but verging on it. She spots Lan Wangji and her stormy expression clears.

“Lan Zhan,” she says, and her shoulders droop. 

Lan Wangji blinks at her, thrown by her use of this name, then glances at Wei Ying, who has gone completely still, his mouth open in a small, shocked ‘o.’ Jiang Yanli follows his gaze and freezes.

Just then, Jin Zixuan comes barreling into the room, significantly more unkempt than his wife. He has not even tied back his hair. 

“A-Li,” he implores, “what’s happened? We can’t just go barging into our guests’,” he pauses, and bows awkwardly, hastily, to Lan Wangji and Wei Ying in turn, “rooms like this. Please,” he takes her arm, but she shakes him off. 

She’s still staring at Wei Ying. “Sh...Shijie?”

Wei Ying startles, and looks down at himself. He holds out his arms, his hands, and looks at those too. Then he looks up at Jiang Yanli. “A-Xian?”

“Shijie,” Jiang Yanli says, and slumps over to the bed, embracing Wei Ying.

“A-Li,” hisses Jin Zixuan, scandalized. 

Lan Wangji glances at Jin Zixuan’s wife embracing his own husband on the bed, and rises. He walks briskly past them all to shut the door. Then he returns. 

“Wei Ying,” he says again. Jiang Yanli looks up at him.

It is obvious, now that he has realized it. Her face, animated by his personality. The soft warmth of her eyes sharpened just so. The deliberately graceless way she threw herself—himself—into Wei Ying’s—no, Jiang Yanli’s—arms.

Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. “Is this a curse?”

“Yes,” Wei Ying says with Jiang Yanli’s face, but his own certainty.

“How can we break it?” Lan Wangji asks.

“I”m not sure, not yet. I need to try a few things—or—having the original curse would be safer.” He looks at his sister in his own body. “I...don’t really want to experiment with this.”

Jiang Yanli tsks and bumps his shoulder a little too forcefully, jostling Wei Ying in her currently slight form. “Vain,” she says, teasing.

“Shijieee,” he whines. It sounds bizarre in Jiang Yanli’s voice. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“I know,” Jiang Yanli says, soothing. 

“Do you feel alright?” Wei Ying goes on, urgent.

“Perfectly alright, now that you’re both here,” she says, smiling at the newcomers in turn.

Something sharply acidic surges in Lan Wangji’s stomach at such a look on Wei Ying’s face, directed at...Jin Zixuan.

“Really, though,” Wei Ying presses, “any nausea? Dizziness? Pain? You’re not worried?”

“Not at all. Our A-Xian will figure it out.”

Lan Wangji watches as the appearance of Wei Ying’s knuckle affectionately brushes Jiang Yanli’s nose. 

Strange. It is all...so strange.

“If—”

“What is happening?” Jin Zixuan interrupts.

All three of them look at him. He stares between them, wild-eyed and desperately askew. Lan Wangji has never considered him to be particularly slow on the uptake, but he supposes allowances must be made for the stress of waking up with a stranger in one’s bed.

He does not care to investigate the perverse pang of jealousy he feels at the thought.

“A-Xuan, it’s me,” Jiang Yanli says. Jin Zixuan stares at her in Wei Ying’s body, uncomprehending. She goes on slowly, but not unkindly. “A-Xian and I have been cursed into each other’s bodies. He’s in there, and I’m in here.”

Her husband blinks several times, very quickly. Lan Wangji recognizes the moment it sinks in by the deep flush that rises across his entire face, and is certain he does not wish to know what precisely inspired it. 

Jin Zixuan takes an involuntary half-step back, then forward again, as he speaks with renewed urgency. “Why has this happened? Can it be undone?”

“Great questions,” Wei Ying says, falsely encouraging. Lan Wangji exchanges a glance with him, and it almost feels natural, to share such a thing with either Wei Ying or Jiang Yanli. “Someone was clearly either targeting me—that’s Wei Wuxian, that’s me, in here—or you...whom you know to be Jin Zixuan. I hope.”

Jin Zixuan turns a deeper shade of red. “Obviously,” he bites out. “But why?”

Wei Ying rolls his eyes dramatically. It is not something Lan Wangji ever imagined Jiang Yanli doing.

“We don’t know yet, but we will once we find and question the person responsible,” Wei Ying says. Jiang Yanli grips his arm suddenly. Wei Ying looks at her. “And yes, it can be undone. Of course it can. I’ll figure it out.”

“Cast a rebound,” Lan Wangji says, brisk. The more quickly they are done with this, the better.

Wei Ying’s face falls. “Ah,” he says, “well, we…”

“My cultivation is too weak for him to reliably use,” Jiang Yanli says suddenly. “And I’m not very good at the method, I’m afraid.”

Lan Wangji nods. Steps forward. Then hesitates. “If the curse was cast in such a way, one of you may end up in the caster’s body. And they in yours.”

They all look at Jiang Yanli. Her expression grows grim. “Alright,” she says, then looks to Lan Wangji. There is something steely in her expression that is familiar on Wei Ying’s face. “Thank you for the warning. Go ahead.”

Lan Wangji hesitates only a moment longer, expecting protests from the other two. But Wei Ying is wearing a small, knowing smile, and Jin Zixuan merely nods at her, reassuring. Lan Wangji senses his esteem for the Jin heir rising at such solid trust in his wife. 

He steps forward and casts the rebound. They all hold their breath. 

Wei Ying glances around, his wry expression entirely foreign on Jiang Yanli’s face. “Anything?”

“No,” says Jiang Yanli.

Wei Ying sighs. “More work for us, then.”

“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says, taking gentle hold of his wrist. “You know what this means.”

“Ah?”

“You’ll have to be me.”

“Ah. No, I—”

“A-Xian.”

Wei Ying scratches his head, a not-at-all ladylike gesture. “Or we could just stay in here and let these two investigate?”

The smile Jiang Yanli turns on him is tender, and knowing, and indulgent. “I’d like to see you try to sit still when there’s a puzzle to solve.”

He sighs. “Alright. But you have to be me, too.”

She nods, and theatrically slouches into a sprawling, sloppy posture. Wei Ying laughs, his head thrown back, a hand on his stomach. Jin Zixuan turns around, looking almost ill. 

Lan Wangji understands, and he doesn’t. It is dizzying, and distinctly wrong-looking, to see both of them this way. Yet there is also something endearing about it. About the parts of them that do overlap, and fit into each other better than one would expect. 

“A-Xuan,” Jiang Yanli calls softly, noticing her husband’s distress.

Lan Wangji gets the distinct impression that that tone in Wei Ying’s voice is not helping the situation.

“Jin-gongzi,” he says. “It would be best for all of us to go about our days as normal, and not to arouse suspicion. Wei Ying sleeps late, and will not be missed for the morning. Jin-shao-furen may claim mild illness until the afternoon. But you and I must behave as normal. There are still the other sects to host.”

“Yes,” Jin Zixuan says absently. He runs a hand over his face. “Yes. You’re right. A-Li—” he turns and looks at the pair of them on the bed, and pauses. He shakes his head as if to clear it. “I’ll go back and dress. Join me when—or—Wei—” he stops. “I will be attending my duties. Please let me know what else I can do.”

“Remember to act natural,” Jiang Yanli says. “When A-Xian joins you later, try to look less like a roasted tomato, hmm?”

Jin Zixuan’s mouth twists into a wry smile, and he nods at the floor, then flees the room. Jiang Yanli and Wei Ying turn their eyes to Lan Wangji.

“I shall also depart,” he says. He circles his arms to bow to Jiang Yanli, but Wei Ying stands and pulls him over toward the door. Lan Wangji lets him, and tries not to pull away from the improprietous touch from a married lady. 

“Lan Zhan,” he says, hushed and urgent. “I’m not...you don’t think I’m hurting her, am I? Just by being in here? Can you sense any resentment?”

Lan Wangji feels something tighten in his chest. Wei Ying has not let Lan Wangji so much as examine his pulse since he roused from his coma, but the idea that he is so constantly steeped in resentment as to cause worry that his very soul may be harmful...is distressing. He takes hold of his slender wrist carefully. It is still Jiang Yanli’s body, and he will treat it with the respect it is owed. 

“I cannot,” he says. The only energy in Jiang Yanli’s body is generated by her own small but steady golden core. “I sense nothing that may be harmful.”

Wei Ying lets out a relieved breath. “Alright. But, um. What about the other way? Is her...is my body harming her?”

Lan Wangji turns to go back and perform the same examination, but Wei Ying stops him. “No, that’s alright. I’ll. We’ll just get this over with, and we can. Between the two of us, we can fix whatever...whatever damage I do.”

Lan Wangji stares at him, but Wei Ying refuses to meet his eyes. At length, he nods. “We can.”

“Alright. Ah, thanks. You should go.”

Lan Wangji goes.

[handy-dandy-monster-candy]

Nymrius

Rating: NSFW Length: 1546 Pairing: Male Drider x Male Reader (both cis)

Pure filth. *Blows kiss* For the spider lovers out there.

xxx

Hanging upside down from a thread of silk wasn’t the first thing I thought would happen on a weekend evening, but I would be lying if I said it was my first time. This instance was significantly less sexy, however, and I was sure the kind of eating that was planned wasn’t the pleasurable sort. “Getting desperate?” I asked, trying to ignore the pressure of the blood rushing to my head in favour of looking up at my captor.

“Shut up,” said the young drider who was dragging me up into his web, thin arms struggling with my weight. Driders always were on the delicate side, and I was anything but; I’d make a few meals for him yet, I reckoned.

“I might have the right to remain silent, but I lack the capacity,” I said, struggling to get a better view of my soon-to-be-murderer. “Afraid for my life and all. You understand.”

“I said, ‘be quiet’!” the drider snapped, though his voice trembled.

“‘Shut up’, actually,” I quipped, letting out an embarrassing squeak when I was heaved the rest of the way up in one unceremonious yank.

“Are all humans this odious?” the drider muttered, chest heaving almost as much as mine was.

“Only the ones who don’t want to die.”

“Well, neither do I,” the drider quavered, stubbornly beginning to wind me up in his silk. “I’m sorry, but I have to feed.”

“Couldn’t hunt something smaller?”

Acid yellow eyes narrowed in my direction, gleaming in the twilight. “If you must know, no. They were too quick for me.”

“You look much too old to be a helpless spiderling. What’s the matter? New management saw you as a threat?”

The drider bristled, hissing at me. “I should bite you just to silence you.”

“But you won’t,” I reasoned, “because you don’t have the venom for it. You’re not a hunter. You’re a weaver.”

“And just what gave you that idea?”

“You’re wasting your silk on me and crying. You’re no hunter.”

Thin hands scrambled up to wipe beneath the drider’s wide, shimmering eyes, his breaths hiccuping sharply in shock. He scowled at me thunderously, and if he’d had the venom, I’m sure he would have bitten me just as he’d threatened.

“Now what?” I asked, looking up into his face from my odd, twisted angle. “You’ve either got to kill me or wait for me to die. Do you have the stomach for either?”

“I don’t have a choice now, do I?” he waspishly replied, crossing his arms over his lithe chest. “Seeing as ‘management’ saw me as a threat for their precious offspring, I now have to fend for myself.”

“And you’ve up and managed to hunt yourself a hunter,” I laughed, helplessly amused. “Let me free and I’ll hunt you all the food you can fit in that pretty belly.” The drider flushed red at my words, which was both exactly what I was expecting and a pleasant surprise. “Oh, so it wasn’t your weaving that was a threat, but your appetite.”

“Bite your tongue!” hissed the drider, jabbing me painfully with one of his hard, slender legs. “What would you know of my ‘appetite’?”

I coughed the air back into my lungs, grinning widely; perhaps the blood rushing to my head was making me more reckless, or maybe it was my own appetite rearing up for one last hoorah before I was put out to pasture for good. Either way, I found myself saying, “Put your sweet cock in my mouth and find out.”

The drider squeaked. Mortified, no doubt, and by the looks of his shimmying against his webbing, aroused. Of course out of all the driders that could have caught me, I’d been caught by a prim and proper little beast.

“Come on,” I wheedled, going breathless at the prospect of what I was suggesting. “Give a man his dying wish to make a pretty thing like you come in his mouth.”

“Oh, gods,” whispered the drider, hiding his face in his hands as his thorax quivered. “It’s a trick. You’ll bite me.”

“Only if you want me to, sweetheart,” I purred, and delighted in the way he shivered from head to spinneret. “What have you got to lose? I’m dead anyway. I might as well rub myself off against this silk of yours before I go.”

The drider swore, eyeing me venomously and shifting closer with something between wariness and anticipation. “I’ll make your death painful if you hurt me,” he warned, and I nodded as he climbed over me, revealing a silvery-pink prick almost as long as my arm. My mouth watered as he pressed the slender, tapered tip to my lips, slipping my tongue out to taste him and groaning as his slickness coated the inside of my mouth with a gentle bittersweetness. He swore again above me as I took him into my mouth, sucking gently and pushing him against the insides of my cheeks as best I could.

“So good,” I whispered when I came up for air, wriggling my own erection up against my bindings as much as possible. “Look at you, so hard for me. Having me all tied up get to you, pretty boy? Like having the power?”

“Oh, gods, shut up,” the drider groaned, though judging by the way his prick twitched and throbbed, I’d hit the nail right on the head. I slipped my tongue into the little opening at the head of his cock and swirled it about, trying to hide my surprise at the way he cried out and ground down against the roof of my mouth. The next time, I applied a touch of teeth, nibbling at the opening and being rewarded by a healthy spurt of pre over my hungry tongue. We both moaned when I slurped him back into my mouth and lifted my head to have him grind against the back of my throat, his long, slender fingers spearing into my hair as he slid further and deeper into me.

Watching him was a madman’s wet dream. He bit at his fingers to quiet himself and gyrated his hips, rocking himself into my throat and teasing his body with his small, dexterous hands. Figures that I’d find a new passion on my last night on earth, but I was determined to see this whole thing through to the end, whatever end that may be. I redoubled my efforts and relished in his twitches and moans, losing myself to the breathless rhythm of riding him with my throat until he pulled away, leaving a string of pre and saliva joining my lips with his cock.

“What’re you doing?” I slurred, but he didn’t answer, instead moving around me and shifting me around until I was on my front, knees glued to my chest with silk and ass in the air. I twitched when I felt him cut away the silk and fabric of my trousers covering my aforementioned ass, then squeaked in my own right when I felt his cock grinding against my taint and balls. “Easy,” I gasped, cheek stuck to the silk beneath me. “Easy, baby, you haven’t even—“

“Hush,” the drider hissed, pushing insistently against my entrance and making a high noise of triumph when he made his way in, slick and persistent.

“Fuck,” I wheezed, tightening around him reflexively and finding that the intrusion barely bothered me more than my own fingers.

“Oh, I intend to,” the drider purred, pushing into me with tight, shallow thrusts that slicked up my insides and eased more of his dick inside me as he went. It was tapered at the end but broadened considerably as the length trailed on, and it wasn’t long before I was sobbing for mercy beneath my unruly lover. I was going to be gaping if I survived this, and I must have said so, because he laughed above me, grinding his thorax against my back and making me moan pitifully. “I’ve changed my mind about killing you,” he whispered as he fucked me, speaking between my wanton groans and the lewd noises coming from our slippery union.

“You might kill me yet,” I managed to choke out, though my traitorous body was already starting to push back against his cock, greedy for the fullness he offered. “Oh, fuck, at least tell me your name.”

“Nymrius,” he answered, soft and sibilant, and dug his nails into my skin when I echoed it a moment later when he thrust deep into my ass.

“Nymrius,” I said over and again, a prayer and a plea all at once. “Nymrius! Fuck me. Please fuck me. Not going anywhere. I’m yours. Trapped. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nymrius snarled, pistoning his hips into me hard enough to make me see stars, over and over again until I came hard enough that I wasn’t sure he hadn’t bitten me to make my insides liquid in the first place. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into that,” he muttered somewhere above me after several moments spent catching our breaths, and I laughed.

“I’ll hunt you a damn bear if that’s what you want. Just don’t stop fucking me tonight.”

The drider sucked his teeth. “Are all humans this obnoxious?”

“Only the ones who want to live.”

[volleychumps]

Hello!! Can I request for Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo to you getting hit in the face by their spike or serve and like you pass out..? tysm I love your writing sm!!!! You’re my favorite writer on this app probably

:’)) These will be written before anything significantly romantic happens and they start dating, I hope you enjoy!!

Accidental Ambush w/ Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo

------------------------------------------------------------------

Bokuto

“Bokuto-san, should you really be trying out a spike you’ve never tried before with full force?” 

Akaashi Keiji sighs, watching with a tired stare as the nationally-known spiker grins, gold-eyes gleaming with excitement as the owl-haired boy spins the ball in his hands for good measure. 

“Learn to live a little, Akaashi!! If I’m gonna be the bestest spiker in the world-” 

“Bestest isn’t-” 

“-then I’ve gotta have more tricks up my sleeve!” 

The banter between the two had kept both boys occupied as you entered the gym, planning to grab the sneakers you left behind from practice with the girl’s basketball team. In doing so, you eye the two as the darker haired one finally obliges to set for the over-hyped boy, causing you to pause. 

It wasn’t every day you got to see the skills of one of the top spikers in the nation up close. Realizing neither had noticed you, you hum, leaning against the wall as you think that it wouldn’t hurt to watch from a distance. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was for the ball to come hurtling in your direction, so fast and uncontrolled you hadn’t even been able to react as the weight of the ball knocks you off your feet, feeling the ground hit your back as the impact causes you to begin to lose conciousness. 

Bokuto Kotarou’s jaw drops as Akaashi’s slackens a little, both pairs of eyes widening as the last thing you hear is the sound of sneakers on the squeaky gym floor as Bokuto looks down at your limp figure in shock. The ball bounces away, leaving a trail of blood coming from out your nose. 

“Shit! Shit Shit SHIT OH MY GOD DID I KILL HER?!” 

“No, I...don’t think so.” 

“THINK? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY ‘THINK’, KAASHI?!”

“Yelling won’t change the fact that you just hit one of the captains of the girl’s basketball team.” 

“YOU SET THE BALL!” 

“You wanted me to set it, so techinically, you did this.” 

Bokuto’s golden eyes dim down a little, a wilt to his shoulders as he scoops you up carefully, guilt bouncing around his chest as he brushes some hair out of your face, Akaashi crossing his arms when Bokuto seems to gaze at your face for a second. 

“Um...are you gonna take her to the nurse, or is something supposed to happen-” 

“Right! Right, the nurse.” 

When you finally gain conciousness, your first reaction is to sit up quickly, groaning as soon as you did. What the hell happened? 

You blink when you’re immediately pushed back down again, but slower and gentler this time as the owl-haired boy in front of you gives you a nervous grin, golden eyes looking a tad sad as he begins to ramble. 

“You’re awake!! Do you want money? I can buy your lunch! Shoot shoot, uh...a goldfish! How about I buy you a goldfish?” 

His words are a tad difficult to process as you blink once, then twice before realizing he had been holding a warm towel to your nose, pink staining the white material as it indicates you had bled. You smile a small grin, pushing his wrist away as Bokuto rubs the back of his neck guiltily. 

“Bokuto...is it? Uh, I’m okay. Really.”  You assure him, telling the truth. Most of the pain had faded away, and you were left with a dull throb in your head. “I just really wanted to see you spike, I should’ve made myself known..”

“Really?” Bokuto’s eyes widen the slightest bit. “You wanted to see me spike?” 

“Yeah, that’s weird, right?” You laugh awkwardly, looking off to the side. “You’re one of the most talented players in our age range, right?”

Bokuto swallows, feeling heat rush to his cheeks as he sees you, slightly bloody nose and all, smile as if he hadn’t just socked you in the face with a volleyball as you openly compliment him to his face. 

The words rush out before Bokuto can think twice. “Do you...want to?”  

“Want to...see you spike?” You arch a brow, surprised as Bokuto nods brightly as he grins, putting the warm towel on your nose again as he brushes some hair out of your face to keep it from getting wet. “I can make a private showing just for you as my apology! I’d just need to get your number...and your name...”

“Y/N.” You attempt to push the towel away again, only for Bokuto to catch your hand, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours as he gives you a half-grin. 

“Whaddya say we make it a date, Y/N?” 

“Depends, are you gonna hit me again?” 

“I’ll definitely be hitting on you, that’s for sure.” 

Akaashi Keiji fights the urge to roll his eyes as he closes the door quietly to the nurses office, wondering how the hell his best friend managed to turn the situation into an opportunity to get a cute date. 

Oikawa

“Ladies, remember: if you’re gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks.” 

“Lame as hell.” 

“Iwa-chan, I’ll give you my attention in a second, okay?” 

Oikawa Tooru misses the flicked off finger in his direction as he continues to talk up his group of fans, grinning his playboy grin at all of them in the middle of the lunch period. Hanamaki coughs as he approaches the middle of the courtyard, choking back a laugh as he examines the situation. 

“Is he really showing them how to serve a volleyball like they actually care?” 

“At least he’s not talking to us.” Matsukawa shrugs, boredly watching as well. “I say it’s a win-win situation.” 

“Show us, Oikawa-Kun!” 

“Yeah, let us see your famous serve up close!” 

“Girls, girls...” Oikawa puts his finger to his lips, winking once. “Promise to keep it a secret?” 

“Hey now...he’s not actually gonna hit it, right?” Iwaizumi sits up fully, drinking his melon juice as he sees his childhood friend actually take position, causing Iwa to choke. 

“Oi, shittykawa, is that really the best-?” Iwaizumi questions through a fit of coughs, but doesn’t manage to finish his thought as Oikawa’s already running to hit the volleyball already set into the air as he hits it towards a space with no students-

or so he thought. 

Through a herd of squeals and praises, chocolate brown eyes widen as your figure enters the direct line of fire, time seeming to slow down as you manage to turn in question at the sound, only for your jaw to slacken. 

The sounds of his fans drown out to Oikawa’s ears as the ball hits you straight in the face, causing you to stumble confusedly as you feel your face go numb, pain slowly taking its’ place afterwards. The distance doesn’t allow the setter to pinpoint exactly who you are, but he begins to move without thinking. 

Oikawa is careless as he pushes aside the girls surrounding him, legs moving so fast before breaking into a run just in time to catch you from falling into the grass. He blinks once, eyes in shock at what he had just done, all to show off for some girls. 

He watches the tears prick your eyes, eyes beginning to flutter shut as his rushed thought process doesn’t realize just who he hit. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I-” 

Oikawa feels a lump grow in his throat as your lips form a simple, yet meaningful smile as the colors in your vision begin to close in on you, his panicked mind still trying to register who exactly he had harmed. 

It’s okay. Your smile seemed to have meant. 

Weren’t you mad? Shouldn’t you be angered that this stuck up pretentious playboy had nailed you right in the face with the oh-so famous serve known to make half the teams in his district tremble at the thought of it? 

“Congrats.” Oikawa feels a familiar hand clasp his shoulder to see Iwaizumi looking down at your now unconcious figure. “You just hit the school sweetheart square in the face.” 

“S-School sweetheart? Shit, wait, Y/N?!” Chocolate orbs widen with realization as his adrenaline-rushed mind finally registers. 

Iwa grins a tad sadistically as Oikawa gapes at the beauty in his arms, now slightly bruised and passed out because of his doing as the setter carefully picks you up, regret brimming his eyes. 

“The one girl in the school you wanted, and you had to hit her? Nice.” 

Ushijima

“WATCH OUT!” 

You don’t have time to do anything of the sort as you had just slid the door open to the entrance of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball club practice room just as Ushijima had nailed another practice spike, this one hitting the inner court so hard it had rebounded back out of control in another direction.

That direction just so-happening to be yours. 

The papers meant for the advisor slip out of your grasp as you try to process what had just happened, hearing the once boisterous gym drain of noise as the ball hits you square in the face. You had known of Ushijima’s scarily powerful spikes, but you had no idea the rebound back could feel like a ton of bricks. 

Ushijima seems to still in place as you faint backwards, eyes widening the tiniest fraction as the rest of the team surround your now blacked out figure, bruise forming on your nose along with a trail of blood. The powerful male slowly raises his hand to examine his palm, eyes betraying no emotion. 

He had done that...to a girl?

“I-Is she dead?” Goshiki whispers as Subaru nudges him, nodding over to a staring Ushijima as he takes in what he had done.

“Y’all are such babies.” Tendou yawns, walking over to begin to wrap your arm around his neck. “She wouldn’t die from something like a rebound, but if it had been the real thing-” 

“Shut up, you ginger.” Semi begins to take your other arm before the culprit’s voice makes him freeze in place. 

“No.” Ushijima’s steps manage to silent the team as they, excluding Tendou and Semi, all take a subconcious step back. They watch in bewilderment as Ushijima takes your unconcious figure with a gentleness they didn’t know he possessed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you into a piggy-back position. 

“I’ll take her. Continue practice.” 

Ushijima ignores the gapes and questioning stares as he walks out of the volleyball room, never had left practice early before for any reason. 

As he walks, feeling your even breaths against the back of his neck as he carries you easily to the nurse, he wonders just what he would say to you when you came to in addition to his apology. 

The stranger on his back seems to shuffle a bit, causing the ace’s steps to slow to a stop. 

“W-What...?” 

“I’m sorry, but try not to sleep. We have to make sure your head’s alright.” Ushijima says straight forwardly, blinking when you hum in agreement, still seeming to be out of it as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Okay...” 

Before Ushijima can tell you not to do that, your next words make him press his lips together. 

“You’re a lot nicer than you look, you know?” You seem to slur, head lolling on his shoulder. “Sweeter too.” 

Thump.

Ushijima pauses for a few moments, beginning to walk again before stopping abruptly, grip on your legs relaxing as he feels your breathing even back out again. 

Wait. 

...thump?

Kuroo

“Kuroo, you’re hitting too hard.” 

“I don’t care!” The captain fumes as he grabs another volleyball from the basket, throwing it up to slam it across the gym angrily. “Stupid sensei! I don’t even know if I’ll be able to play in the next game if I have to take those dumb classes.” 

Kenma dodges the ball with a slight movement to his head as he doesn’t tear his gaze away from his console just as it hits the space next to his head. The setter looks up lazily as Kuroo grabs another. 

“I’m telling you, you’re-” 

Kenma’s cut off when he hits the ball again, this time not even bothering to put a spin of direction on it when it suddenly gets slammed outside a nearby open window, followed by a yell of pain. The two childhood friends exchange looks, Kenma getting to his feet with a sigh as Kuroo rushes outside. 

“I told you so.” 

Kuroo’s footsteps bring him to the point of contact, eyes widening at the sight of someone he recognizes leaning on the building for support, a hand rubbing your cheek as tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“Shit! Are you okay?” Kuroo questions hastily as the captain’s heart beats in fear. How could he lose control of his power like that? The two friends watch, one less worried than the other, as you wave it off, laughing a little with a blush on your features. 

Kuroo breathes out the anxiety in his chest at your laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards the slightest bit as you go to say something-

The smile on your face seems to fade as you lurch forward, the impact of the spiked volleyball finally processing in your body as Kuroo catches you swiftly, anxiety back in his chest. 

“Hm. Well, have fun with that.” 

“K-Kenma, what?!” 

Kuroo sighs, annoyed at his best friend as he walks off carelessly, leaving you in the hands of the captain, who looks down at you guiltily before scooping you back up in his arms and back into the empty practice room. 

When you come to, the first thing you see are the eyes of the captain, ice pack on your forehead as you realize your head had been placed in his lap, Kuroo nursing you until you had woken up. 

Startled, you sit up quickly, his forehead colliding with yours as the ice pack falls into your lap. You share a groan, and you scramble out of his hold with a redness to your cheeks that the raven-haired captain couldn’t pinpoint. 

“That couldn’t have felt good.” Kuroo frowns, a hand reaching out to touch your forehead before you turn away, causing him to arch a brow. 

“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” The captain questions the victim of his doing, and you laugh a little too loudly. 

“U-Um! Nope, I’ve just got to uh- feed my shark-” 

Kuroo catches your arm before you can go, pulling you back down gently. 

“Do I need to kiss you or something to make you stay still?” 

The capain catches on as a pink hue takes over your cheeks as you do as your told, a smirk tickling the corner of his lips. 

“Y/N L/N, right?” 

“You know my name?” You squeak, only prompting Kuroo to come even closer as his feral eyes seem to keep you from running. 

“I heard through the grapevine someone of the sort had a crush on me all of last year.” 

You blanch, finding movement in your legs again as you ignore the dull throb in your head. Kuroo puts an arm on the opposite side of you, resting it on the bleacher as he leans even closer, seeming to trap you. 

“What I didn’t hear however,” 

The ice pack in your lap continued to melt. 

“Was that the girl who liked me was this cute.” 

[makoodlesarchive]

daisy chain

oop, back at it again with dragon dick kiri

thank you SO much to @brattyquirks and @shoutogepi for looking over this for me when i was sick of looking at it, and @ramen-rambles​ for the fun idea!! i appreciate the help so so much !! 🧡

pairing: kirishima x reader x bakugou

word count: 8.3k

warnings: explicit penetrative sex, M/M/F threesome, dildos, dragon dick kiri

this is part of the dragon dick kiri series

tip jar!

It had started out as a joke, a throwaway comment that you really hadn’t put all that much thought into. You didn’t expect it to grow into anything more, but maybe you should have; it was pretty typical of Bakugou to take an innocent comment and interpret it as a personal challenge, after all.

“I hate my life.” You announce to no one in particular, your voice echoing off of the bathroom tiles.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou snarls. You can’t take the vicious heat in his voice seriously, given your current predicament, so you just opt to ignore it. “Will you just- ow! That hurts, you stupid, shitty-”

“Fuck off, this is not my fault!” You snap back. Your patience is frayed and barely hanging on by a thread, and you feel safe enough snapping back at Bakugou considering you’re confident that he’s in no position to try and kill you if he does happen to take issue with your tone.

“We’re not playing the blame game!” Bakugou snarls, which means that he’s definitely aware that he’s at fault here but doesn’t want to admit it. “All you have to do is-”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough!”

You swear viciously and get to your feet, clambering out of the bathtub. You nearly slip on the wet tile floor, but just manage to keep your balance.

“Wait,” Bakugou says, and his tone has changed significantly. He sounds a little panicked now, as if he thinks that you’re about to abandon him to his fate, “Where the fuck are you going?”

You decide not to answer him, just because you’re feeling kind of petty, but when you remain quiet he tries to climb out of the bathtub after you. You notice the movement out of the corner of your eye and turn to look at him, scowling. “Will you stay where you are!”

“Where are you going!”

“I’m right here, I’m not leaving!” You go back to peering into the bathroom cabinet, thoroughly irritated by just about everything right now. “This is so stupid.”

“This was your idea.” Bakugou murmurs sulkily. His voice is quiet and resentful, and you’re probably not even supposed to hear it but you do hear it, and you whirl around.

“What?” Your voice comes out louder than you had intended, but you’re angry now. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You came up with this all by yourself!”

Bakugou’s face is scrunched up in a mixture of pained discomfort and embarrassment, but he still manages to level you with a cuttingly annoyed glare. He opens his mouth to speak, and you ready yourself for whatever no doubt pathetic excuse is about to fall out of his mouth when your bickering is interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey,” Kirishima calls, concerned, “Are you guys okay in there?”

“Everything’s fine!” You yell at the same time as Bakugou practically screeches “Yes, fuck off!”

“Uhhh..” Kirishima remains unconvinced. The floor creaks as he shifts his weight around in front of the door. “What’s going on?”

You can’t blame him for being worried; both you and Bakugou have been locked in the bathroom for nearly twenty minutes. You and Kirishima had been relaxing on the couch while Bakugou showered when the shower had shut off abruptly and Bakugou had started roaring your name. You had gone running instinctively, leaving Kirishima wide-eyed and startled on the couch as you went crashing into the bathroom. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Bakugou leaning over the ceramic edge of the bathtub with his fingers up his ass, red-faced and visibly panicking.

“It’s nothing to worry about, babe,” you call out to Kirishima, finally finding what you had been searching for and banging the cabinet shut. “We’ll be out soon, promise.”

After an excruciatingly long moment, Kirishima decides to take your word for it and retreats. You let out a breath, then turn back to Bakugou. He’s kneeling down, but his back is almost unnaturally straight and his jaw is clenched tight. His discomfort is obvious, but you really can’t bring yourself to feel all that sympathetic towards him - you still can’t believe he had the nerve to try and blame this on you.

You take a deep, fortifying breath, and slide your shoulders back. “Okay,” you say, “Bend over, ass up.”

Bakugou looks at you as though you’d just taken out a gun and threatened to shoot him. “What the fuck?”

“There is literally no other way to fish out the dildo that you lost up your ass, so just do it!” You hiss, your patience officially reaching its limit thanks to a healthy mixture of anger and embarrassment. You would rather be literally anywhere else right now, and you imagine Bakugou feels the same way.

The anger and embarrassment on his face only gets worse when he catches sight of the bottle of lube you’ve managed to fish out of the cabinet. He stays quiet as you climb back into the bathtub and situate yourself behind him and then, miraculously, he bends forward and braces himself on the rim of the bathtub with his ass jutting out towards you without saying a word. 

“Okay,” you breathe. Now that his ass is actually being presented to you, you’re at a loss for what to do. “Um.”

“Just get on with it!” Bakugou hisses over his shoulder. The embarrassment is only fueling his anger, and you have a feeling that the only reason you haven’t been murdered so that no one else can ever learn about this is because the dildo lost somewhere up Bakugou’s rectum is hindering his movements.

“Okay!” You kneel down and squint at his ass. Though the shower is off, the tub is still wet and the moisture seeps through the knees of your jeans. You ignore the temporary discomfort as you pet awkwardly at Bakugou’s back to try and calm him down as your other hand slips towards his asshole. “God, this is awkward.”

“You don’t have to fucking point it out.” Bakugou grounds out through gritted teeth. His fists are clenching the edge of the tub so tight that his knuckles strain against the thin skin on his hands. 

You uncap the lube and drizzle it all over your fingers. It might be a little overkill, but you’re already so far out of your comfort zone that you figure it’s better to be safe than sorry. The last thing you need is Bakugou snapping your head off because you accidentally hurt his ass. “Remind me why you shouted for me instead of Kirishima?”

Bakugou grumbles a little bit at that, but before he can answer the question you take the plunge and stick your fingers in his ass. It obviously takes him by surprise, because he lunges forward a bit and can’t quite bite back the strangled noise that’s punched out of his throat. “Fuck! Warn a guy before you go sticking your fingers up his ass!”

“You have a whole dildo up there, I doubt my fingers are gonna make that much of a difference.” You say, maybe a bit uncharitably. His asshole is lubed up pretty well, so your fingers slide in with ease, but he is pretty tight. You can totally see how his asshole slurped up the dildo as if it was suction powered. “Hey, you never answered my question.”

“What fucking question? Jesus-!” He jerks away from your fingers a little and bares his teeth at you over his shoulder, “Fucking take it easy!”

You glare at him, but don’t rise to it. “Why did you call for me instead of Kirishima?” It’s hard to keep your questing fingers gentle when you’re searching for something inside an asshole, but you do your best to try and keep Bakugou’s complaints to a minimum.

Bakugou exhales forcefully, the line of his shoulders tense and rigid. “I don’t know,” he says through gritted teeth, “I wasn’t thinking.”

You hum thoughtfully, but then your fingers brush the base of the dildo and you lose your train of thought. “Ah!” It’s difficult to get a grip on it, because of the copious amounts of lube and the awkward shape of the base. Everytime you almost catch a hold of it, you accidentally push it further in. “Fuck! Why the hell didn’t you use a dildo with some kind of flared base?”

“How many fucking dildos do you think I have on hand, huh?” Bakugou says. He’s obviously angry, but it’s a little difficult to take that anger seriously when you have several fingers stuffed in his anus. “This whole thing is your fault, anyway.”

This is roughly the third time he’s said something along those lines, so you remove your hand and sit back on your ankles, squinting at his upturned ass. “Okay, explain.”

Bakugou squirms, clearly antsy now that you’ve stopped trying to help him. “We talked about it last week!”

You just stare, at a loss. “Huh?”

He glares back at you, but when it becomes apparent that you genuinely don’t know what he’s talking about he’s forced to grumble, “When I asked you about Kirishima.”

You think for a long moment, mentally raking through every interaction you’ve had with Bakugou over the course of the week. You don’t remember ever saying anything that could have been construed as- oh. Oh, he’s gotta be joking.

One day last week, after a round of enthusiastically messy sex, you had been limping just a little. Bakugou, being the little shithead he was, laughed and prodded at you the whole way to the kitchen, and you had responded with an eye roll and an irritable “I’d like to see you take his dick, asshole.”

No reasonable person could ever have picked up your offhand remark as an actual challenge, but you weren’t dealing with a reasonable person right now. You go to cover your face with your hand only to remember that it was up Bakugou’s ass only moments previously, and quickly divert it away from your face. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

Bakugou is flushed from the tip of his ears to his chest, a fetching shade of red. “You said you’d like to see it.”

“Oh, don’t pretend this is about what I want!”

“Well, obviously I want it too, but I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you didn’t want it!” Bakugou snaps back. The two of you are irritable and embarrassed and your patience is at an all time low, but then Bakugou draws back and shuffles around on his knees so that he can actually see your face. “Do you want it? Fucking tell me if you don’t.”

You stare back at him dumbly, a little mesmerised by the vulnerability in his face. Bakugou has never presented himself as anything other than invincible in your presence, so this little sliver of emotional honestly has you melting a little bit. You glance away and allow yourself a moment to really think about what he’s proposing. You know that what he’s really hoping to do is prove that he can take Kirishima’s ridiculous dick better than you can.

It’s like he’s come to the conclusion that because he has no chance of beating Kirishima in the dick size contest, he has to compete with you for the best ability to take it. Honestly, you’re okay with that -- mainly because you’re pretty secure in the knowledge that he’s gonna lose. 

You’d also be lying if you said the idea of getting to watch Kirishima fuck Bakugou didn’t cause you to heat up in between your legs.

“Hm.” You keep your face intentionally blank, watching Bakugou as he visibly fights not to fidget against the discomfort of both waiting for your response and the dildo up his hole. At last, you say, “Yeah. I want to see it.” Bakugou exhales, slow and steady, and nods. You don’t give him much of a chance to relax though. “Now, I need you to bend over properly. Face down, ass up. I need a better angle.���

Predictably, Bakugou doesn’t take that suggestion well, and it takes several more minutes of mingled arguing and coaxing before he finally sinks down into the requested position (though not without throwing a particularly venomous glare over his shoulder at you). You have to fight not to swear at him, because he’s the one that asked you for help here! It’s not as though you’re holding him hostage just so you can fish around in his asshole!

When he’s assumed the position, he buries his face in his arms. “Just get it fucking done.”

When faced with Bakugou on his knees in front of you, face down, ass up, with his back arched, you’re forced to face the rather irritating revelation that his ass is, like, perfect. It’s probably the perkiest damn thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You scowl at it, feeling both resentful and kind of turned on, before finally turning your attention to the task at hand. When you reach down to his asshole again, your fingers slide in with ease thanks to the lube and the fact that he’s already pretty well stretched.

Your fingers aren’t as long or wide as his are, but he still jerks against you as you poke around. His hips hunch forwards and he hisses like an angry cat as your fingers bump the base of the dildo, accidentally sliding it in a little further. “Fucking hell,” you murmur, brow scrunched in a deep frown, “How deep did you manage to get it?”

Bakugou bares his teeth in a grimace. “I ain’t blind, I’ve seen the size of Kirishima’s cock. I’m not stupid enough to go in without stretching myself out.”

“Just stupid enough to lose the dildo up your ass.” You mutter under your breath.

“The fuck did you just say?” Bakugou whips his head around to glare over his shoulder.

“Nothing!” You say hastily, deciding that you’ve probably pushed your luck far enough already. Your fingers jostle the dildo again and Bakugou lurches forward again, an odd pained sound leaving his lips. “Sorry, sorry!”

“Just-!” Bakugou’s voice is strained, and he’s buried his face in his arms again so that you can’t see him. “Fucking take it out!”

“I’m trying.” You grumble, trying not to sound petulant. If it were that easy, then surely he could have done it himself without your assistance! Bakugou grunts again when you finally manage to hook your fingers around the base of the dildo, but you barely notice as you excitedly say, “Hey! I got it!”

Bakugou braces himself, the whole length of his back flexing impressively as you begin to gradually pull the dildo out. It’s slow-going, mainly because you have to keep adjusting your grip so that it doesn’t slip right out of your fingertips, and Bakugou definitely doesn’t appreciate the slow speed. His fists are clenched tight and the flush has spread all down his neck and over his chest. His jaw is rolling constantly, and his eyes are squeezed shut. You actually feel kind of sorry for him, and you try your best to keep your movements as gentle and unobtrusive as possible.

That is, until you bump the dildo a little awkwardly and a downright filthy moan is torn from Bakugou’s throat. You both freeze, but Bakugou tensing up means that you nearly lose your grip on the dildo all over again. “Stop clenching!” You shriek, fingers scrabbling desperately against the hard plastic as you fight to keep a hold of it.

“Fuck you!” He yells back, but it seems like more of a reflexive response than anything else.

You shift backwards to try and get a better angle, and then you notice for the first time that his dick is hanging hard and heavy between his legs. “Bakugou Katsuki,” you say softly, watching as his back goes rigid at both your tone and your use of his full name, “How are you still hard? Are you seriously getting off on this?”

“No!” Bakugou snaps, his voice an octave higher than usual. “Fuck off! As if I’d get off to your grubby little fingers!”

“Grubby?” You sit back on your heels again, irritated. “Well, maybe I should just leave you here to take care of this little problem yourself, then. I don’t know why you called me in if my touch is so gross-”

“No!” Bakugou reaches behind him in an attempt to grab at your thighs to prevent you from moving, despite the fact that you haven’t made any real move to leave. “Just-!”

While he’s distracted, you give one quick tug and pull the entire length of the dildo out all at once. Bakugou’s whole body spasms as he lets out another strangled groan, and you don’t miss the way his dick twitches between his legs. You have to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing, because you have a feeling that Bakugou would not take that well. “It’s out!” you say, a little redundantly, and hold up the dildo.

Bakugou is still hunched over, his chest heaving slightly as he regulates his breathing. “Fucking hell.” He mutters without looking up. His hole is still loose and wet from the lube, and you have to look away as you feel yourself heating up with embarrassment.

You clear your throat pointedly, and raise your eyebrows when he finally turns to scowl up at you. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

“Hah? No.”

You scowl back at him. “I just did you a favour, dickhead.”

Bakugou totally ignores you as he climbs to his feet, wincing a little at the movement. You follow his lead, grumbling irritably, and when you’re both standing facing each other you’re hit with the realisation for the first time that Bakugou is very naked and still wet from his shower. “Okay then!” You say, probably too loudly. “Well! I’ll leave you to, uh, finish up?”

His dick is still hard, and you feel like it’s pointing accusingly at you. Bakugou is frowning thoughtfully at the dildo that’s still clutched awkwardly in your hands. “I’m still horny.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” You wonder if he’s asking for his dildo back, and then you realise that you don’t want it yourself so you shove it into his chest. 

He takes it absent-mindedly, his frown transferring to focus on you. “Are you turned on?”

“What?”

His gaze drops to your legs, and you’re embarrassed to realise that he’s caught your thighs rubbing together. Before you can say anything, he says, “I’m not judging. If you get wet from playing with my ass that’s your own business.”

“You’re such a dickhead.” It’s not really an answer, but you both know that he really doesn’t need one.

His gaze moves to the door, thoughtful, as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I’m ready if you are.”

It takes an embarrassingly long moment to catch on to what he means. Your gaze flicks from the door to the dildo. It is, admittedly, fairly large; it’s probably about ten inches long, and decently thick. It’s a small miracle that it ever got lost inside Bakugou’s ass. And yet; Kirishima’s dick is definitely larger.

There’s no way of telling Bakugou this without inadvertently starting an argument, so you let it go. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Bakugou grins, wild and anticipatory, and hops out of the tub. His erection swings heavily between his legs in a motion that’s almost obscene as he swaggers towards the bathroom door and flicks open the lock. When you move to follow him, he sticks his arm out and frowns at the length of your body. “Take your clothes off.”

“Huh?” You glance down at yourself. “Right now? Why can’t I take them off in the bedroom?”

“Because we’re going into this fucking ready, come on.” He tugs impatiently at your shirt.

“Okay, okay.” You slap at his hands before starting to tug your clothes off. It takes a bit of extra effort to get the damp jeans off because they’ve started to cling to your legs. Bakugou’s tugging hands are significantly more hindering than they are helpful, but eventually you’re standing naked with your clothes strewn all around your feet.

It takes effort not to comment on Bakugou’s impatience, and even then the main reason you don’t comment is because now there’s no dildo hindering his ability to murder you. When he yanks open the door, his shoulders are high and tense with anticipation, and he sets off down the hall towards the living room at a speed far too quick to be casual. You scurry after him, having the presence of mind to feel a little embarrassed and self-conscious at your total nudity as you both emerge into the living room. Bakugou, naturally, owns his nudity unrepentantly.

“Oi.” he says sharply, as eloquent as ever.

“You guys finally done? What happened, did Bakugou fall into the toil...et?” Kirishima’s voice trails off and pitches high as he turns his head from the couch, his eyes flying wide when he catches sight of you and Bakugou standing totally nude in the mouth of the hallway. “Uh. Whoa?”

“Let’s go, asshole, we’re ready to fuck.”

“What?” Kirishima looks vaguely as though he’s been hit by a metaphorical truck, but he jumps from the couch despite his obvious confusion. “Now?”

“Obviously, come on!”

Kirishima’s bewildered gaze flickers from Bakugou to you, and the most you can offer him is a companionably confused shrug. “Okay.” He starts to grin, as willing to go with the flow as ever. The front of his sweatpants is already beginning to tent, and you can’t help but chuckle at how easily aroused he is. “Yeah, okay. Great.”

Bakugou turns and marches back down the hall towards Kirishima’s room, securely confident that both you and Kirishima are following behind him. He’s right, obviously, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his cockiness. Still though; walking behind him like this you get a great view of his ass, and what a great view it is.

When you glance up at Kirishima, you see that he’s already staring at your bare chest. “What the hell happened in the bathroom?” He asks quietly. He’s still grinning, his arousal obviously unaffected by his confusion.

“I’ll tell you later.” You promise. You know you’re only adding to his bewilderment, but you really don’t think you can succinctly explain the situation in the time it takes to get from the living room to the bedroom.

As always, Kirishima just takes the whole thing in his stride. “Okay.” He agrees with a ridiculous amount of cheer, then claps and rubs his hands together like a cheesy movie villain. “Let’s get going!”

When you enter Kirishima’s room, Bakugou is already spread out on the bed; his cock is laying hard and proud against the gloriously defined contours of his stomach, and his bicep bulges as he cushions his head with one arm. He looks positively pornographic, and you falter for a moment. The act of simply looking at him seems indecent.

Kirishima, naturally, just bounds right up and leaps onto the bed. “Lookin’ good, bro!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to not call me that when we’re about to-” Bakugou begins furiously, but the rest of his complaint is lost as Kirishima practically tackles him into the mattress. You have to admit, as you watch the two of them grapple like children on the bed, you’re begrudgingly impressed by Bakugou’s unflagging hard on; he must be really excited for what’s to come. You suppose you can’t blame him, really. Considering the slimy feeling between your thighs, you know that you’re just as excited. After a moment, Bakugou successfully shoves him off. “Idiot,” he says, completely lacking any sort of heat, “Are we doing this or what?”

“You’re so impatient br- uh, dude.”

“Dude is not an improvement, you fucking-”

Kirishima ignores the beginning of Bakugou’s rant and turns to you, making ridiculous grabby motions. “Get over here, gorgeous!”

A slow, coy grin begins to spread over your face as you look slowly between Kirishima and Bakugou. They both seem to puff up just a little under your gaze; Kirishima squares his shoulders and grins unrepentantly at you, a very obvious wet patch beginning to form under the conspicuous bulge in his sweatpants, while Bakugou’s stomach flexes as he acts as though he had forgotten that you were there. You hum, stepping forward but stopping just out of arm's reach. “Not yet.” You decide, tilting your head to meet Bakugou’s gaze head on.

He grins, wide and challenging. His eyes are dark and excited, but he doesn’t speak up to clue Kirishima in on what he’s planning just yet. Kirishima, meanwhile, is pouting. “Aw, why are you teasing? Can’t you see we’re eager to go?”

“I can see that,” you admit, because honestly if you had somehow managed to miss the blindingly obvious evidence of their arousal there would have to be something seriously wrong with you. “But we’re going to try something different tonight.”

“Take these off.” Bakugou finally says, reaching out and snapping at the waistband of Kirishima’s sweatpants.

Kirishima jumps, startled, as the elastic smacks into the skin of his lower stomach. “What?” he says a little dumbly, looking from you to Bakugou. Even though he’s a little slow on the uptake, he begins wriggling out of his sweatpants until he’s left in his special supportive jockstrap. The jock is already pretty wet with precum, and even though it’s been specifically designed with large and unusual penises in mind, it’s having trouble containing his straining erection.

Bakugou gazes at the overworked fabric, his gaze intense and unwavering. “That, too.”

“Okay.” Kirishima agrees, breathless. He seems to have come to the conclusion that it’s best to put aside his confusion for the time being and simply go with the flow, which is probably the best for the time being. When Bakugou decides that he wants something, you just have to go with it; to do otherwise would be like trying to fight a force of nature. Apparently anything longer than instantly is too long for Bakugou, and he lunges forward to help Kirishima take off the jock. Bakugou’s idea of helping seems more along the lines of ‘tearing it off’, but Kirishima seems to find the urgency flattering. 

Once Kirishima is appropriately naked, Bakugou sits back and just looks at him. You understand that particular reaction all too well -- it’s easy to look at Kirishima’s dick and think that it’s super hot (because in all honesty it is) but it’s another thing when you’re looking at it when you know that it’s going to be inside of you imminently. Kirishima’s cock has a rather unique way of inspiring a fight or flight instinct in even the bravest of men, and you’re rather gratified by the fact that even Bakugou Katsuki isn’t immune to that little frisson of unease and self-doubt.

“Uh oh, second thoughts?” You ask, teasing softly. You know he’s not really second guessing himself, you know that he’ll push through every single one of his own personal hesitations just to prove a point, but you can also see that he doesn’t know how to actually go about initiating what he wants.

Predictably, he shoots you a scathing look. “Hardly, dumbass.” He says, but still makes no move to do or say anything else. Kirishima sits in front of him, also unmoving, looking innocently perplexed other than the enormous hard on eagerly leaking onto his lower belly.

Idiots, you think, impossibly fond of them both. “Eijirou,” you begin softly. Both of them look to you, and you don’t miss the poorly concealed look of relief in Bakugou’s eyes when you take control of the talking part. “You’re going to fuck Katsuki tonight.”

Bakugou makes a soft noise as Kirishima’s eyes shoot wide, though you don’t know if it’s because you’ve finally spoken his desire into existence or if it’s because you used his first name. Either way, it has his hand reaching between his legs to tug at the hard, unwavering length of his erection. Meanwhile, Kirishima looks utterly thunderstruck. His mouth hangs open, his jaw slack, as he slowly turns his head to look at his best friend. “What?” He says stupidly, his thought process clearly struggling to keep up. He always seems to be slower to catch onto things when he’s horny, and you wonder if it’s because of all the blood being diverted away from his brain to fill out his ridiculously enormous dick.

It’s usually pretty endearing, but you can see the way that Bakugou begins to shift a little nervously the longer it takes for Kirishima to properly react. “Yes or no?” You say quickly, before Bakugou’s antsiness gets the chance to manifest into outright impatience or embarrassment. 

“Yes!” Kirishima says quickly, but then his gaze darts down to his own hard on and back to Bakugou. “But- I mean. Can you- are you sure that you’re able to- I mean-”

It’s pretty funny watching him flounder to ask Bakugou if he’s sure he’s physically capable of taking him without saying something that Bakugou may take offence to, especially as Bakugou’s eyes begin to narrow. “What?”

“He’s already ready for you.” You decide to pipe up. Bakugou whips around to glare at you for offering that particular bit of information up, but you ignore it because it’s not as if Kirishima wasn’t about to find out as soon as he reached around to touch him, anyway.

“Really?” Kirishima asks, quietly awed. 

“Yeah, I’m not dumb.” Bakugou says with a quick wave of his hand. “And I’m also not a total masochist.”

“Okay.” Kirishima says. His face is slowly starting to light up as he finally seems to come to terms with the fact that this is actually happening. “Wow. Okay, wow.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever! Let’s go.” Bakugou snaps, his cheeks stained a pretty pink colour. “Stop fucking saying wow.”

You laugh, giddy excitement beginning to bubble up in your chest. You move to lean against the wall so you can watch from a fairly unobtrusive vantage point as Bakugou turns around so that his ass and back are facing Kirishima. They’re both excited for this, that much is obvious, but you still can’t quite shake off the belief that Bakugou has bitten off a little more than he can chew in this particular situation. Oh, well. Bakugou is the kind of person who learns by doing, you suppose.

Bakugou drops forward onto all fours, his back lightly arched and his face set and determined. If it weren’t for the fact that he was naked and hard as hell, you might think from his expression that he was about to beat down a particularly heinous criminal. Kirishima shuffles forward until he’s pressed flush against the back of his thighs, still looking vaguely as though he expects Bakugou to turn around and tell him that the entire situation was an elaborate prank. “You’re sure?” Kirishima says, his hand landing lightly on the outside of Bakugou’s hip and sliding gently up over his ribs.

“Obviously.” Bakugou drawls. Impressively, he seems to have wiped any trace of nerves cleanly out of his system. He looks like he always does when he’s about to face a challenge that he expects to crush; cocky, confident, and utterly single-minded. That particular look of sheer determination falters slightly as his gaze darts over to you, where you’re slouching against the wall watching. “The fuck are you all the way over there for?”

You raise your eyebrows. It hadn’t quite occurred to you that they might want you to take an active role in this, but Bakugou is frowning at you as though you’re a total idiot and Kirishima is making those silly little grabbing motions towards you again, his grin blinding. “Well, where do you want me to be?”

Bakugou narrows his eyes, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek. “Under me.” It’s phrased as an order but his voice ends in an almost imperceptible uptick, so it comes out sounding uncharacteristically unsure.

You hum as you climb up on the bed and slip underneath him, so that his arms are braced either side of your head and his knees are positioned in between your spread legs. You grin up at him, but he looks away with a little huff -- within seconds Kirishima’s head appears over his shoulder, and he offers you a grin so wide that you can see just about every single one of his sharp, shiny white teeth. You laugh at his goofy face, and feel hot liquid excitement settle in your belly and begin to simmer there as the reality of the situation begins to dawn on you. Bakugou’s hard on brushes against your navel as he shifts, leaving a little trail of precum on your skin. You’re startled to find yourself marveling at how little precum he produces; it’s kind of startling how quickly you’ve become used to Kirishima’s little sexual quirks as normal. 

“Get on with it, shitty hair.” Bakugou snaps, the old nickname falling out of his mouth almost unconsciously. Kirishima’s hair is ungelled today, hanging loose over his brow and around his ears, although neither of you care to point this fact out. “Do you need me to draw you a map?”

Kirishima rolls his eyes. “Damn, man. Cool it with the attitude.”

You have no doubt that Bakugou is ready to snap back with another comment, but before he gets the chance to Kirishima’s large palms plant themselves down on Bakugou’s incongruously tiny waist as he ruts his hips experimentally against Bakugou’s ass. From your new and very comfortable vantage point, you get to see the look of realisation begin to sneak across Bakugou’s face; there is, after all, a pretty significant difference between deciding that you’re going to fuck Kirishima and actually feeling his cock press against you. The creeping cognizance of exactly how big Kirishima is can be nothing short of alarming, and nothing drives home that realisation faster than feeling the tip of his dick pressing against you.

If anything though, Bakugou’s initial moment of anxiety just seems to turn into more arousal. “Fuck.” He breathes quietly, his voice gone a little choked.

“How’s it feel?” You ask, half-teasing. You reach up and pet reassuringly at his shoulders and the side of his neck, feeling the solid muscle shift beneath your palm.

“Big.” It’s more of a groan than anything else, his scarlet eyes going a little glassy.

Behind him, Kirishima rumbles a low, genuinely amused chuckle. “I thought we already covered that.”

“Shut up. Just put it in.” Bakugou cranes his head over his shoulder, reaching to try and maneuver Kirishima himself. “Come on. I’m horny as hell, and I’m not gonna break. Stop fucking treating me like I’m [Y/N].”

You stiffen at that, and narrow your eyes. “I haven’t broken yet, asshole.”

“Whatever.” Bakugou rolls his head around to meet your scowl with a cocky smirk, “I’m gonna take it without whining like a bitch.”

Your irritated expression melts into a slow, anticipatory smile. “You’re gonna eat your words, Katsuki.” you croon up at him as Kirishima hooks his chin over his shoulder, biting his lip to stifle his own smile, “You’re gonna choke on them.”

Whatever Bakugou was planning on saying in return is interrupted by Kirishima dipping both thumbs into his ass and marvelling at the stretch. “Wow, you really did get yourself ready.” He says, and Bakugou exhales heavily as Kirishima grinds into him again. “Can I…?”

“Yes, just do it!” Bakugou unsuccessfully tries to shove his own hips back, his impatience written clear across his face.

Kirishima meets your gaze over Bakugou’s shoulder, his eyes wide and excited. ‘What the fuck!’ he mouths silently, still grinning. You smile back at him, trying hard not to laugh because Bakugou is also looking down at you. Being beneath the two of them is intimidating because they are both extremely large men, but also because they’re both staring at you and the weight of their combined gazes is really intense.

You can’t see what’s happening, but you know when Kirishima begins to press into Bakugou because both of their faces contort; Kirishima’s mouth drops open and his forehead crinkles, a ragged little moan escaping him, and Bakugou’s eyes shoot wide as he inhales sharply through his nose and apparently forgets to breathe out. “Oh god, oh fuck,” Kirishima whimpers, his head dropping down onto Bakugou’s shoulder. He’s trying to hold back to give Bakugou time to adjust, that much is obvious, but he seems a little more impatient than he usually is with you. While he’s being slow, his hips keep rutting forward in little aborted motions that lack the level of consideration that he usually takes with you -- but then again, Bakugou had insisted that he was able to take it.

You wonder if he’s beginning to second-guess himself; his jaw hangs slack and his eyes are wide and a little out of focus, his back beginning to hunch slightly as Kirishima presses forward. “Oh,” he grunts. His hands flex and fist into the sheets by your head, and he breathes hard through his nose. “Shit.”

Kirishima stills, though it’s clear that it takes a huge amount of effort. “Are you-” he pauses just short of asking Bakugou if he’s alright, and instead says, “Can I put in the rest?”

“The rest?” Bakugou says quickly, his voice several octaves higher than usual. “It’s not in yet?”

You start to laugh, and not even the murderous glare that Bakugou shoots your way can dampen your amusement. “Oh no, are you having trouble with just the tip?”

“I will kick your ass, dickhead. He’s entering somewhere that’s usually an exit, let him take it slow!” Bakugou plants his palm over your face and shoves you away so that you’re not looking directly at him before saying, “Whatever, put the rest in!”

Kirishima pays him no mind, instead peering at you over Bakugou’s shoulder. “I want you to feel good too.” He tells you, even though you can see the tension in his face and neck from forcing himself to stay still when every nerve in his body screamed at him to move. “Can Bakugou make you feel good?”

“I don’t know, can he?” You ask coyly, casting an eye down the length of Bakugou’s rigid body hovering above you; you doubt that Bakugou will have the presence of mind to pleasure you when Kirishima’s entire length is fucking inside of him. 

As expected, Bakugou’s nostrils flare. “Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.” he snaps, one hand already slipping between your legs to tease at your clit. He blinks in surprise when his fingers slip along your slit. “Huh. You’re drenched.”

Your face heats up in embarrassment, but Kirishima’s face lights up with a wicked smile. “Is she?” he asks. His hand winds around the front of Bakugou’s hips, and you think for a moment that he’s going to touch you too. But then it’s Bakugou who stiffens with a bitten-back moan as Kirishima wraps a hand around his neglected hard-on and guides the tip of it to rub against your slick, eager pussy. Both you and Bakugou go still, surprised, as Kirishima quietly asks, “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” The word comes out on a moan as your head drops back to the sheets. You shift your hips and feel the tip of Bakugou’s cock slide just barely inside you. “Please!”

Bakugou swears, loud and vicious, as his hand comes to clamp down on your hip to keep you from fucking yourself onto him. “Fuck! Don’t do that, I’ll come-” he begins, but Kirishima chooses that moment to buck the rest of his own cock into Bakugou’s ass. The sudden harshness of the movement starts a chain reaction as Bakugou’s entire body is jolted forward, inadvertently pressing his own dick all the way inside you. He makes a sound like a wounded animal, his breathing ragged and heavy as his clutches at your hip. “Oh-! Shit, fuck, you absolute motherfucker-!”

Kirishima laughs breathlessly, his forehead dropping down to rest against Bakugou’s shoulder. “Taking too long.” he says, his words coming out syrupy and almost slurred. “God, feels so good…”

You can’t stop yourself from squirming a little, trying to get Bakugou’s dick just a little bit deeper; you had gotten used to the obscenely large size of Kirishima’s dick, and while Bakugou’s dick felt good, it wasn’t enough. Your squirming doesn’t get you very far though, because Bakugou’s grip on you tightens until he’s holding you firmly in place. “Stay still,” he grounds out, his voice ragged. His shoulders are hiked up around his ears as he breathes, and you wonder if it’s from pain or if he’s just so close to cumming right now that every touch straddles the line of too much. He swears again, and his head drops down onto your shoulder. “Feels like I’m gonna split in two.” He murmurs, voice tight.

“Poor baby,” you say, running a hand up along his shoulder blades. With his face buried into the crook of your neck like this, he’s unintentionally given you a perfect view of his arched back and raised ass. Like this, you can just about see where Kirishima is buried inside of him, the only part of his cock visible being the swollen, squishy area at the base. “If it’s too much, tell us, Katsuki.”

“S’not too much,” he mumbles into your neck, all the usual sharpness leached from his voice. “I can do it. It’s just… a lot. And you’re really fuckin’ soft inside, which isn’t fucking helping.” As if to emphasise his point he rocks his hips forward into you and then makes a weird little warbling sound into your ear.

Kirishima leans up and drapes himself along the length of Bakugou’s back, sending a wobbly grin your way. “I can’t- I have to-” His hips twitch, building into slow, rolling thrusts. “Bakugou- I need- Can I, Katsuki-?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou pants into your neck, the condensation of his breath gathering wetly against the flesh of your throat. “Yeah, fuck me.”

That’s all the permission Kirishima needs -- he lets out an excited little whimper before pulling out and shoving himself back inside all out once. The movement sends a jolt up Bakugou’s spine, and he sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t move his face from your throat. Kirishima begins a rough, quick pace, his muscled thighs flexing as he drives into Bakugou again and again. Every thrust seems to drive the breath out of Bakugou’s lungs, and he wriggles his arms under your shoulders and clutches you to him as the force of Kirishima’s fucking sends his whole body rocking into yours.

“So big, shit!” Bakugou manages to gasp out, finally regaining the presence of mind to breathe properly. 

“Yeah?” Kirishima whimpers, looking proud. “You look so good like this, man, you feel so nice wrapped around me. Does it feel good?”

“Uh huh.” Bakugou dips his head so that his face is buried in your tits, his ass raised even higher. “Fuck!”

Everytime Kirishima fucks into Bakugou he pushes Bakugou’s hips sharply into yours, until all three of you are essentially fucking each other in a daisy chain reaction. You writhe beneath Bakugou, squirming and working your hips back and forth along the length of Bakugou’s dick as he fucks you to the same rhythm that he’s being fucked to himself. “Harder.” You beg, hiking your legs up over Bakugou’s hips and squeezing tight as you’re both rocked by Kirishima.

Bakugou makes a muffled noise that is possibly encouragement. His hips oscillate wildly between thrusting back to meet Kirishima’s snapping pelvis and forward into your own wet heat, like he can’t decide between the two. There’s something impossibly intoxicating about being able to watch Kirishima positively ploughing into Bakugou’s ass, hunched over his back and clutching his waist and panting from the exertion, and simultaneously being able to feel how hard and fast he’s fucking him. You know you’re clenching up from the way Bakugou moans brokenly into your tits; your chest feels suspiciously wet, and you have a feeling that he’s actually being fucked so good that he’s drooling on you.

Despite the fact that Kirishima is jackrabbiting his hips into Bakugou so hard that Bakugou’s whole body is bouncing with the speed and force of it, Bakugou’s hips grind into yours at a slightly slower pace: his cock rubs insistently along every inch of the inside of your pussy every time a thrust knocks him forward again, grinding unrelentingly deep. Kirishima is visibly starting to fall into that mindlessly horny haze that means he’s getting close to cumming, but he still has the presence of mind to reach down and intertwine one of his hands with yours, the other gripping Bakugou’s hip as he guides him back and forth on his cock.

Neither of them are going to last long; it’s obvious from Kirishima’s desperate open-mouthed panting and the way he hunches over as his thrusting starts to turn messy, and it’s obvious from Bakugou’s raggedy breathing and his equally messy attempts to fuck further into you as he messily sucks at one of your tits. 

What you’re not expecting, however, is how quickly your own orgasm is creeping up on you. This particular position isn’t super conducive to your own pleasure, but being fucked like this while having such strong visual stimulation is nice -- the pleasure isn’t bright or burning or all-consuming, but it’s building, and rapidly. Kirishima turning Bakugou into a gasping, sweaty mess on top of you is apparently a massive turn-on for you, which comes as a mild (but very pleasant) surprise, and you can’t stop yourself from jamming a hand down the middle of you and Bakugou so you can rub frantically at your clit.

The heat and weight of Bakugou plastered to your front is blistering, and every time Kirishima whines and fucks him forward into you it sends little jolts of pleasure shooting through you. Bakugou moans into your breastbone, and it sounds like he’s choking, as if he’s being fucked so thoroughly that his body has forgotten basic functions like how to breathe, and you find it so ridiculously hot that you let out an answering moan.

To your honest surprise, you cum first. Your orgasm rips through you with an intensity that leaves you genuinely startled, your body convulsing and arching as your mouth drops open soundlessly. “Oh!” is all you manage to gasp out, your hand clenching tight around Kirishima’s.

“Yes, baby!” Kirishima pants, his face bright and excited and extremely aroused, as delighted as ever at the chance to watch you lose yourself. “Oh- shit, I’m gonna- I’m close-!”

Bakugou’s head snaps up from your chest all of a sudden, his eyes blowing wide. “Is it getting bigger? Fuck, is it getting bigger?”

The extra inch Kirishima’s cock tends to grow when he comes is a sign that he’s just about to spill, though you could have guessed that from the way that his eyes have gone unfocused as the motion of his hips stutter and falter. You realise that this is Bakugou’s first time experiencing it, since he’s only ever seen Kirishima come when he’s buried inside of you.

Kirishima, meanwhile, is babbling away about how good he feels, about how good you and Bakugou feel and how good you two look. He lets out a high-pitched keening sound and then his whole body locks up as he strains against his orgasm, his hips spasming wildly. Bakugou makes a muffled sound into the sweaty, drool-slick skin of your chest, as he comes inside of you in turn, apparently driven over the edge by the combined sensation of Kirishima’s engorging cock and the veritable buckets of cum being emptied inside of him. You can feel the sticky, gooey slickness of Kirishima’s cum dripping onto your skin and the bedsheets. As always, it makes a mess, but the three of you are slumped boneless against each other, with no energy left to spare to so much as move a muscle, never mind to clean up.

Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time, Bakugou reaches around to shove Kirishima off of him with a groan. A visible wince passes over his face as Kirishima pulls out, accompanied by a veritable gush of cum as it spills out onto the bedsheets. “Shit. goddamn, that is so much fucking cum.” Bakugou mumbles, slumping over into the sheets and twisting away from the mess. 

Kirishima worms his way over between the two of you so he can cuddle you both at once, his expression joyfully blissed out and lacking any sort of embarrassment. “I love you guys.” He says, nuzzling at the side of your sweaty face and patting affectionately at Bakugou’s shoulder.

You know from experience that the aftermath of taking Kirishima for the first time is uncomfortable at the least. You only have barely a moment to feel sympathy for Bakugou and his asshole before he looks down and grins hazily at you. “Told you I could take it.”

Your sympathy practically vanishes on the spot. “The only reason you could take it that good is because I practically fisted you beforehand.” You point out, totally irritated by the fact that he’s chosen to apparently forget about all your hard work.

Kirishima’s gaze jumps between the two of you, exhausted and bewildered. “What the hell happened while you were in the bathroom?” He asks, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. His gaze travels lazily over the cum staining all three of you, and obviously thinks of the way you two had arrived naked into the sitting room together to practically corner him. “Actually,” he amends, stretching his arms over his head. His dick is rapidly softening, though it doesn’t look any less intimidating; you catch Bakugou staring at it, his expression visibly awed as he clearly marvels at how it had ever fit inside of him. “I don’t think I want to know. You two are so weird.”

[solcheeky]

our secret

summary: fratboy!donghyuck turns paperboy! when he needs some extra money for college stuff like textbooks. he thinks delivering way outside of campus will save face from being a measly paperboy, but little does he know, the front yard light he hits (and breaks) belongs to his significantly well off classmate... (3k)

warnings: strong language here and there genre: enemies to ..friends? a/n: I’ve merged these two requests together! meaning I have and haven’t included aspects of each, hope that’s okay! (2021 edit: hi I found this in my drafts from last year and idk why I never posted it so yeah, here we go)

“You’re late.” Your professor calls out as Donghyuck fails to sneak into lecture hall unnoticed

You sigh, you’d think he’d at least look ashamed to step foot into class at such a late time

You suppose with Lee Donghyuck, things were always different

The boy winces comically, inhaling between his teeth brazenly, and students stifle their laughter

Then with a simple raise of his hand, he gestures a flimsy ‘my bad’ and a ‘continue, continue’ before charmingly wiping the sweat off his brow and sitting in the empty seat saved by his friends

The professor frowns, “you’re late.” He repeats as if to encourage the young rebel to at least say something

“I’m Haechan,” the rebel says under his breath, flopping his backpack onto the desk, “not ‘late’” a sarcastic smile stretching his lips as his friends snicker at his dumb joke

You roll your eyes, he was unbelievable.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” The professor claps his hands. “And Mr. Late,” he emphasizes, “don’t think you’re getting away with anything.”

So he drops it on him like a bomb: “For the rest of this week, meet me in the office an hour before classes start.”

The grin on Donghyuck’s face immediately wipes off his face and his heart drops to his stomach

“Prof!” He whines back

Karma, you think. That’s what he gets for being so up his own ass

It wouldn’t kill him to wake up a little bit earlier. He relied so much on his ‘so loveable’ personality and popularity, you couldn’t stand it

If you even attempted to do half the things he got away with, you’d be expelled by now

You drop your pen and lean back into your seat with a sigh, you had no choice but to sit back and watch him waste valuable lesson time over this insolence

“You can’t do that!” Seriously, Donghyuck would do anything else other than doing extra hours in the morning

“And you can’t be late to my lectures all the time. What are you not getting here Mr. Late?”

“But I can’t.” Donghyuck immediately regrets saying that out loud like that; the vulnerability in his voice a little too close to home

“And, why not?” Your professor bounces back thankfully brushing past the genuine desperation in his students voice

The reason why not was something ‘Lee Haechan’ couldn’t say out loud. If he did, he’d lose everything

So instead, he sticks with his usual tongue-in-cheek mannerism, “because I don’t want to.”—A sneaky beat around the bush on his part because, little did everyone know, Lee Haechan, the star player and everyone’s favorite goofball, was a measly paperboy

Why?

Because he was dumb broke.

It was a job that required him waking up extra early to race around neighborhoods on his bike, something he had to do regardless rain or sun just tossing as many papers onto people's front porches,

Something he already was finding so much of a difficulty doing: racing to class and acting as if his muscles weren’t burning or the fabric under is backpack wasn’t drenched in sweat

But now this ‘meet me in the office an hour earlier than classes start’ bullshit

That would mean he’d have to wake up even earlier than he already did!

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t want to, you’re going to.” Is the last thing your professor says on that topic before swiftly moving on.

Oh to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth, is what he always thinks as he cycles his rounds in the wealthy neighborhood

If there was one thing he didn’t have, it was this. 

He looks at the blaringly affluent homes that surrounded him and heaves another sigh, the same road he rides every morning (and now this extra early morning) effortlessly reminding him of how absolutely poor his ass was

Grumbling under his breath in a tantrum about his professor in his head, he angrily hurls newspapers onto doorsteps

It was the fact that he had to deal with this at ungodly hours in the morning—as if this job wasn’t already enough

Donghyuck frustratedly hurls another newspaper, but this time around, it shoots straight into someone's front garden post light, knocking it over and completely disrupting the perfect order in which the other trail of foot lights were set in

What the heck?

Immediately, he hits the breaks, his tires screeching loudly in the quietness of the early morning

Profanities frantically leave his lips as he hurriedly drops his bike onto the sidewalk in a clatter, and runs ahead to see the damage he’s made

The lamp was perfectly struck to its side.

Well, that’s just great—he can’t afford college textbooks let alone the broken path lamp on some rich persons lawn

So, his first thoughts are to pull it back into the place, completely irrational, but it’s the only thing that runs through his mind when he’s on a time crunch to get off private property

Except, the damn thing is stuck; literally cemented into this lopsided tilt

Man, Donghyuck swears he could tug all day and it wouldn’t get back into place

It was like the universe was having fun being against him

You, on the other hand, were watching this boy struggle to fix your light back into place from the comfort of your window.

He looked ridiculously cute trying to tug that lamp back into place, curled almost into a ball in the middle of your lawn, his eyebrows sewn into a line of frustration and lips pursed

You knew he was your paperboy from the start of his laborious cycling trips, but did Donghyuck know he was delivering papers to his very own classmate every morning?

You guess not.

...Until now

You knock three times from behind the glass, successfully capturing the boy's attention before mouthing, “what are you doing?”

The agitation on his features drops and immediately his eyes widen at your familiar face

Except, he isn’t given much time to reply before the lamp between his fingers gives in to his weight and recoils back smacking him right in the nose

“Holy shit!” You forget you’re only in socks when you open your front door and race towards him

Donghyuck automatically drops the (now broken) piece of your lawn to cup his bruising face

“Ah- Fucking shit- Ow!” He bends forwards on his knees into the grass, forehead pressing into your lawn before he rocks back up again to scrunch a deep frown up towards the sky. “Jesus-”

“Are you okay?!” Dropping to your knees, you place a cautious hand to his back

“Yes.” He groans into his palms, rocking back down towards the grass again

He definitely wasn’t.

But he needed to get out of there quick; there’s no way he’d let you recognize him

Yeah, you weren’t that stupid.

“Let me see,” you carefully bring him up by his shoulders, your head leaning down towards his to see the damage

“No- Ow! Crap-”

“You’re bleeding!” You try to pry at his wrists but he rips away from your hands

That’s when Donghyuck finally looks up to scowl at you; a frown stitched hard into into his forehead, eyes watering, hair all ruffled, but most alarmingly—a scarlet ribbon of blood running down his wrists

“I’m okay.” He muffles into his hands.

And wow did he look like an idiot.

“Sorry about your-” 

“Jesus Hyuck, you’re not fooling anyone.”

The boy visibly stiffens at your choice of his name

“Haechan.” You quickly correct yourself

He gulps

You glance away

“Let’s just put an ice-pack on that.” Then you’re dragging him into your house

“Quit moving!” You dab a wet cloth across the cut above Donghyuck’s lip

“Well, it hurts.” He tries to complain without moving his mouth too much

You purse your lips and Donghyuck attempts to adjust the ice pack on his nose despite your warning

With a sigh, you take his wrist and bring his arm down to his lap, “Hyuck, if you keep-” you feel him stiffen under your touch. “Haechan.” You keep doing that. “Sorry.”

He just diverts his eyes elsewhere and mumbles, “It’s whatever.” under his breath

So, you bring your attention back to cleaning his cut, your cheeks heating up at the thought of how much of a creep you probably were by calling him by his old name

“I’m-”

“Y/n.” His voice was a little clearer this time, a soft frown on his face, “I remember.”

He kind of wished you didn’t though. This was so embarrassing.

You pull the cloth away from his reddening cheeks, that annoyed flustered look on his face pulling at the nostalgia in you

It was only natural to call him ‘Hyuck’ because you had been going to the same school as him for years

Ever since you were kids, through highschool and now somehow, still impossibly in college, you’ve been with him

You almost had every class with the loud idiot back when he was still ‘Donghyuck’

For as long as you could remember, he had always been the center of gravity in every class, his punchy personality and almost too friendly way of speaking easily giving him the ‘popular’ tag 

It made you have a bit of a crush on him when you were younger, but who didn’t? 

Now, you found him irritating. 

The only thought you had about him consisted of wishing he’d stop using his status to his advantage and just come to class right instead of wasting your lesson time

“Can I ask you something?” He dodges your hand for a second, eyes looking down as if to hide away his embarrassment 

“Sure,” you naturally reach forward again to dab his cut, but he stops you at the wrist

“Can you,” you lift your focus away from his lip to the slight grimace on his face, “not tell anyone about this?”

You blink at him, and a muscle works in his jaw

“Seriously, people can’t know about this.” 

But you simply pull your wrist out of his grip and go back to tending to his wound

You hadn’t told anyone since you’d found he was your paperboy, and that was weeks ago. So why was he so worked up?

Hadn’t the situation already called for it anyway? Who in their right mind would tell anyone after this? For you, it was obviously common courtesy

But before you can reply, he tilts his face into your line of vision. “Are you listening to me?” The frown on his face deepens and he instantly brings the ice pack in this hand over his face at the sudden pain through his nose

That attitude of his easily drove you crazy.

“That was a stupid question.” You give up on cleaning the blood on his lip and push the ice-pack deeper into his face, “if you used that stupid, egotistical brain of yours-”

“Ah! Ow- Ooow-”

“Maybe you’d realize I’ve never told anyone about your paper rounds before.”

“Ow!” He wrenches away from your frustrated grip, the look on his face just as annoyed as you. “You’re going to break my nose!” 

“You broke my yard lamp!”

He looks at you with a huff; a slight puff to his reddened cheeks, furrowed brows and tears ever so slightly brimming his eyes

If that lamp didn’t cost about five times the price of his bike he’d say something back.

You easily read that off his expression

“You don’t have to pay for it.” You start to pack up the first-aid kit you’d opened up on your coffee table just to not look at him in the eyes when you say that

As much as he irritated you, you weren’t that petty

“Really?” The genuine doubt in his face relaxing the annoyance in you a little

“Yeah.” Money wasn’t a problem for you, it was his attitude

But the casualness Donghyuck catches in your tone reminds him of the starkly different worlds you live in

So he musters it up within himself to at least show some kind of gratitude, “...Thanks.” 

And it’s almost inaudible when he says it under his breath like that

But you catch it as you pull a bandaid out of the box before you close it

“On one condition.” You turn to look at him dead in the eyes.

One of his brows slightly quirk up in interest

“Hand.”

He opens his palm to you and you purposely slap the bandaid into it.

“Stop coming late to class, you’re wasting everyone's time.”

Instantly, his jaw goes slack. 

Unable to say anything he stares as you rise from your seat in content, first aid kit in hand, before walking behind the sofa towards the kitchen

You didn’t have to say it like that.

He swings an elbow over the back of the couch, “Sorry for bringing you the paper every morning!” Maybe he was a little offended

You turn on your heels to face him, noticing the bandaid now crushed in the fist of the hand he had over the couch and ice-pack abandoned on the coffee table (the full glory of his bruising nose and cut lip on show)

“I said ‘don’t be late’ not ‘don’t bring me the paper’.” Then you disappear into the kitchen.

Donghyuck has to close his eyes for a second, exhaling a frustrated sigh before standing up in a huff and following your footsteps.

How could you say something so insensitive? Yeah, maybe he broke your lamp or whatever, but he tried to fix it!

And sure, he was sort of bleeding over your couch and used your ice pack, but he totally said thanks

“That’s just- You’re so,” He’s standing at the doorway by the time you’re done, bandaid still stuck in the frustrated grip of his hand

“So what, Hyuck?”

Seeing the all star, team favorite class clown crumble at the simple play of his old nickname made something in your stirr

“Insufferable.” 

You? Your lips turn up in amusement. He was the insufferable one, you almost scoff

“You and your big house, fancy first aid kit, stupid lamps on your lawn,” he takes a bold step forward at every reason until he’s one step to being chest to chest, “I’m just trying to do my job, and go to class.”

You look at him straight in the eyes. “Well, you’re hardly succeeding at either of those.”  

You...

Donghyuck runs his tongue across his inner cheek before biting down on his bottom lip in a brazen attempt to act unfazed by that fatal side comment

A coppery, metal taste pricks his tongue, and he realizes he’s reopened up the cut on his lip again

But that was the least of his worries. You had no idea what it was like being broke. If there was anything he didn’t have, it was everything you did. You probably couldn’t even fathom the type of shit he’s had to go through and even more so: hide.

The way you acted as if his biggest problem in life was as easy as brushing the dust of his shoulder just pissed him off.

“Have you ever thought of waking up earlier?” 

Ah, there it was again, Donghyuck wants to roll his eyes

“I sleep late.” He says dryly.

“Then sleep earlier.”

“I have other shit to do, like study.” 

“Then, manage your time better.” If he really wanted to ‘do his job’ and ‘get to class’, he could’ve done it by now.

He was always messing about with friends and organizing parties, stories spread around like wildfire on campus about the things he occupied himself with other than ‘having shit to do like studying’, you weren’t stupid

It was by the end of high school, when you began to see him as a person who valued himself with the amount of friends knew or the amount of partying he did

And at first you were mad that he had the things you never did, but seeing him easily get washed up by it all made you think maybe you didn’t need what he had

Now you figure his ego was so far up his ass he couldn’t even sit right—that’s probably why he couldn’t cycle to class on time

“And don’t use your bike, you’re clearly slow on it.” You tack on.

“I don’t even have a car!” He snaps back

He made you want to pull out your own hair. “Jeez, first this, then that, god Hyuck, you keep-”

“You say that as if it were so easy,” his words overlapping yours as you continue

“-making up so much bullshit because the only thing you really put effort into is your image,” Your words running over his too.

“-if I could get a car, don’t you think I’d have one already?”

“Then I’ll just take you!” That puts both of you to a stop.

“So, quit giving me stupid excuses to ruin my lectures every day.” If the things money could buy were what he needed, you had it

You snatch the bandaid out of his fist, rip it open and harshly stick it across his bottom lip. It was annoying to see him ignore it like that.

“You usually finish an hour before class right?” You frown up at him

Donghyuck opens his mouth then closes it again.

“Because if you reroute and make me the last house, I’ll take you with me by car.”

“What?” He manages to say. What the hell just happened?

a/n: okay so there was a lot more to the story and character development but it ran too long I had to cut it off bc I cba to edit lmao 

also I seemed to have gone way out of the request lines near the end my bad my bad, but I at least hope you’ve enjoyed it! thoughts???? a part 2?

[bulletproofscales]

wrote a wg-dysphoria fic for comfort purpouses

it is very cliche and kind of a word dump and kinda has no plot

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32177632

Tags: FtM hobi, trans man hoseok , insecurities , weight gain and gender disphoria , gender discomfort , hurt comfort , chubby jung hoseok , namseok , literally pure fluff

1.8k

Hoseok doesn't understand himself most times. Or more specifically, on days like this. Where the mere thought of feeling his body resting against the mattress is cringe inducing. But not as bad as the idea of leaving his bed, starting his day, going outside.

He and Namjoon had plans. Plans that they've been looking forward to for weeks, waiting until they both had a completely free day all to themselves. Hoseok can't just stop everything because he woke up feeling like a gross sack of skin, meat and bones. The entire day was planned to their liking too: favorite restaurants, hiding spots in the city, places to shop, and ending the day probably going back to Namjoon's just to hold each other until the next morning. Nothing too special, really.

They loved the domesticity of days like this.

Hoseok should feel excited right now.

He musters to stand up, and just pushes through normally. Yes, he is a responsible adult and doesn't have to stop his entire life because of some mental turbulence. It's easy for the most part, these days he always wakes up hungry. It's all good until he has to get dressed…

See? It was Hoseok's idea after a few months of dating, to start gaining weight. Thinking, if he grew enough, the parts of his body where weight settled the most would become less noticeable. No matter how slim he was before, there was no escaping the personalized curse that seemed to settle all of his weight at his hips and thighs.

And gaining weight worked! Namjoon was on board with any idea that would help his boyfriend feel more comfortable, and Hoseok found himself feeling genuinely better in his own skin.

Yet... he could barely have the courage to undress right now. Let alone try on something to wear for today, knowing everyone was going to see him on it. Today, it felt as though the plumpness did nothing to hide his body the way Hoseok wanted it to. All he could focus on now, was the fact that if he left with Namjoon today, everyone was going to think Hoseok was his girlfriend.

The thought alone makes it harder to swallow. The roundness all over his body whIch he had come to love, the thickness of his legs that hid his butt. The fat that piled on his torso hiding the curve of his waist and taking attention away from his chest. Even his hands, which had grown a little chubby, were perfect to hide the daintiness in them. All of that on a day like this, just seemed to amplify the pear form that his body grudgingly took in spite of him.

His hands rub at his hips, soft and squishy to the touch, but Hoseok wouldn't dare touch. Only Namjoon gets to touch them without making the older tense up in discomfort; the only thing that makes the squishing of the fat bearable is the deep voice that always comes after it, pouring praise to Hoseok's ear making his shiver in the best of ways.

He doesn't know how he'd react if Namjoon was to touch him now, though. Hell, he didn't know how the younger would react to Hoseok's poor excuse. That's a lie, he knows Namjoon will be nothing but accepting if he so much as suspects his boyfriend is having a bad dysphoria day.

But it doesn't make the guilt go away.

So he pushes it down, rather grabbing something that will cover his body at all, even if it won't hide the parts he doesn't want to see. At least it won't show so much skin.

Hoseok is trying outfit number 6 by the time the doorbell rings. Absolutely not prepared to greet his boyfriend, Hoseok takes one last disgusted look at himself in the mirror before rushing to the door.

"Hey." Namjoon tries to say subtly, but the grin on his face is so wide and eager, it grips at Hoseok's heart. Guilty as he smiles back. "You ready?" He has to slightly look up to meet Namjoon's face; brain unhelpfully reminding him of just how tall his boyfriend is, how masculine he is without even trying.

Ugh, there's no way he is getting through today, is there?

"About that..." Hoseok's smile turns sad, apologetic. Heart breaking at the way Namjoon's expressions drops. "I don't think I feel like I can handle going out today..." He fiddles with his own hands.

"Oh...'' That's Namjoon's own response, and Hoseok understands the disappointment. Can only imagine how tiring it must be to have to cut not only their daily life, but plans they've been looking forward to for weeks, just because Hoseok doesn't feel good about himself that day. He probably thinks the only way for him to progress is to push himself to go out and live despite the dysphoria, to suck it up; maybe even doing that would be the masculine thing to do.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Seok-ah." The voice that speaks is so gentle, though. Warm hands cupping at his soft cheeks. He doesn't manage to answer, rather looking at Namjoon with wide, anxious eyes. "Lets go inside, yeah?" He smiles softly, hands settling at his shoulders before guiding Hoseok back into his own house.

It definitely feels like Namjoon isn't as upset as he should be, being unfair to himself and too kind to Hoseok's dysphoric taunturm. But the older doesn't know if he wants to bring it up, just in case he changes Namjoon's mind. He has to, though.

"It's not that big of a deal J-Joon, we can still go out, I just need to find something to wear." He tries to reassure as Namjoon guides him to the couch. However, the younger has known Hoseok for far too long to buy that.

"If you start feeling better, then we can go out." He smiles innocently, gentle; but knowing fully well that Hoseok was just trying to belittle his experiences.

A weak smile shapes Hoseok's lips into a heart. "It's not fair how you use your knowledge of me against me." He complains, though it has absolutely no bite to it.

"You can't stop me." Namjoon grins back smugly, sitting beside Hoseok and leaning for their lips to meet. The older sighs in defeat; he's lost.

Yet it feels absolutely nothing like losing. At all.

"Fine, but I want your hoodie." He demands, bratty. Hoseok would feel guilty about it if Namjoon didn’t immediately comply with all his commands. Eagerly pushing his hoodie off, silver of tan skin showing as his shirt rides up along with it; which Hoseok absolutely does Not stare at. An quickly snatches it off his hands, before sliding it on his own.

Probably, stealing your boyfriend’s hoodie which fits significantly bigger on him, would be considered a femenine thing to do. But Hoseok will be damned if he doesn't let his nose sink into the fabric and immediately melt at Namjoon’s scent. Only enhanced by Namjoon’s arms, wrapping around his shoulders.

Hoseok never told him to do it, but on days like this Namjoon makes sure to keep his hands off the parts he knows his boyfriend is insecure about. He appreciates it, even if the idea of wrapping his chubby arms around Namjoon’s thick waist seems silly considering their different bodies. But it does make him feel masculine, so he guesses the younger’s strategy works perfectly; as they cuddle closer on Hoseok's couch.

The silence is comfortable for a while, Namjoon tucks his head into Hoseok’s shoulder, as the older gets to caress the warm skin at Namjoon’s lower back.

But oh, Hoseok could never be so lucky.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Namjoon’s voice whispers into the older’s soft neck. And he can only sigh, parly endeared, and partly annoyed.

His boyfriend is so caring. Too caring

“Do I have to?” He groans, and Namjoon takes it as his cue to tangle his fingers gently through the hairs of Hoseok’s nape; soothing.

“I’m asking if you want to, silly.” The older doesn't have to look to know Namjoon is rolling his eyes.

“Nothing happened in particular, cus I know you are worrying about that.” Hoseok grins at the way he feels his boyfriend's body sigh relaxed at that reassurance. “I just woke up feeling this.”

“You better not be using the fact that ‘nothing happened’ as a way to invalidate your feelings.” He scolds gently.

“And you better not be using your knowledge of me against me!” Hoseok whines in an attempt to lighten the mood, and pats his own back when he hears Namjoon’s laughter against his neck.

“I mean it, hyung.” He raises his head from the safe space of Hoseok’s neck; who’s still trying to get past the flips of his stomach at the sound of Namjoon calling him ‘hyung’. “I wouldn’t spend our free day any other way.” And as if to seal the deal, he lands a gentle peck onto Hoseok's nose.

He feels it in his chest, the bursting love he feels for this man. How his body doesn’t feel squirmy at the feeling of his body against Namjoon, just from having him close, having him be treated with such...normality.

It feels like he is broken out of a transe with the movements of Namjoon’s hands at his shoulders. “Y-you know… You don’t have to avoid touching me.” He chuckles a bit nervously.

“O-oh.” His expression grows bashful. “I don’t actually know like--I don’t want to make you uncomfortable!” He whines.

“Namjoon you’re like three times my height, it is not comfortable. You can touch my hips.” It even manages to burst giggles out of Hoseok’s chest.

“Okay, okay.” The younger chuckles as well, as he begins to untangle his arms off Hoseok’s shoulders. And they rather find a comfier route settled at the plush of his hips. And it always feels unfamiliar the first time; as if Hoseok avoids and ignores them so much that they only exist with Namjoon’s gentle squeezing.

His eyes close, as the younger kneads the pillowy skin. Hoseok doesn't realize he is humming until a chuckle bubbles out of Namjoon’s chest. Soft body entirely melted against Namjoon’s firmer one. “You should’ve just told me you needed this.”

“It's hard to admit I need it sometimes, the gentler touches.” The older speaks softly, as Namjoon’s hands rub up and down the curve of Hoseok’s waist, thumbs caressing at the sides of his belly.

“Aish, you speak like I’m not gentle with you ever.” Namjoon groans quietly, rolling his eyes. His hands squeeze at Hoseok’s waist unaware. And okay, he does not mind this.

“I know I know. But I overthink everything when I get like this, you know that.” He cups the younger’s face, whining softly. “I like it though.. I just feel like I might not deserve it sometimes.” He confesses with an apologetic smile.

But Namjoon doesn’t falter, still grinning with so much love. “That’s alright, I love reminding you.” He leans to Hoseok’s hand still cupping his cheek, kissing it.

[franniebanana]

CQL Rewatch - Ep 20

Iconic. Seeing Wei Wuxian back and better than ever is so satisfying! That flute playing that probably we’ve all forgotten about since the first two episodes becomes a repeating leitmotif throughout the series. It’s just as iconic as Wei Wuxian himself. And what I love about this shot here is how the light hits his eyes, and from this specific camera angle, it looks like a mask on his face! I just thought that was super cool. Whether it was intentional or not, I have no idea, but I like to think it was. I guess it’s like a reverse mask in this case—everything is hidden except his eyes.

It’s amazing how I only went without Wei Wuxian for like half an episode, yet it felt like so much longer. The emotional weight that he carries is so great that from all the characters searching for him, it feels like it’s actually been three months, instead of more like twenty-five minutes. And I think that’s something that we can feel in CQL but we can’t really feel in the book. Since the book is written in third person limited, we only see Wei Wuxian’s side of the story (I think that’s accurate, but it’s been a few months since I read it). That being the case, we never leave Wei Wuxian’s side, we never get to miss him being there. Of course the story is framed totally differently in the book and not in chronological order, even—lots of flip-flopping, which is fun but also a little confusing when you’re trying to keep track of a timeline.

I think part of what makes Wang Lingjao so creepy here is that her garish makeup is totally gone: her face is pale and ghoulish, with just the bright red blood trickling out of her nose, mouth, and cut on her cheek. I think they could have made her even more ghostly, but I like what they did for her apparition. It’s fun to see how fast Wen Chao cracks, though. He’s very much all bark and no bite—honestly, such a coward. On the one hand, it’s satisfying to watch him lose it, but on the other, it’s quite disturbing. I toe the line between enjoying it and being disgusted by it, but I love that CQL at least kept in this part of Wei Wuxian’s character. It’s like revenge, no matter how bloody, is okay in Chinese tv, but not the main character being kind of bad. I don’t get why they had to nerf his character to the point of absolving him of all guilt with everything that happened. I like a character who makes bad choices, but feels guilty for it, because that shows depth. Someone who bad things happen to because of the “real villain” aren’t as interesting to me. I think also that Xiao Zhan would have been amazing as the real Wei Wuxian from the book, had they adapted him that way. I also would have really, really loved to see the scene that is only really described to us (I think by Lan Xichen) where a distraught and delusional Wei Wuxian rejects Lan Wangji. Ugh, that would have been so heart-wrenching! Maybe in the donghua…sigh….

So this is important, I think. There was a point in the last episode where Jin Zixuan tells his cousin not to let the crows peck at the dead bodies of their enemies. In other words, don’t desecrate the bodies, even if they are the enemy. Of course, Jin Zixuan didn’t hold any personal grudges towards any of them, at least that we know of. Jiang Cheng certainly does. So even though Wang Lingjao is already dead by her own hand, he whips her with Zidian. Jiang Cheng is becoming more and more twisted by his anger and grief, which he never deals with in a healthy way. He wants revenge against those that have wronged him and his parents, and he really never stops seeking revenge throughout the story. First it’s against the Wens, and then it’s against Wei Wuxian. It’s a fairly slow descent, I think, over years, but I quite like watching him twist like this. While it’s fun and interesting watching someone repent and have a redemption arc, it’s also interesting watching them go the other way.

Lan Wangji seems to know, or at least suspect, that the person who has killed everyone in the Supervisory Office, including Wang Lingjao, is Wei Wuxian. A talent for using talismans (one of which Lan Wangji used himself to escape the Wens), someone who is seeking revenge against the Wen Clan—these things point to Wei Wuxian in his mind. He doesn’t want to say this to Jiang Cheng, he doesn’t even want to admit it himself, but he’s putting the pieces together. I think this is a frightening thought for him. On the one hand, he would be happy to find Wei Wuxian alive, but on the other, what state would they find him in? And what does it mean that he’s killed all these people singlehandedly? This isn’t the Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji knows and cares so deeply about. This isn’t the man that Lan Wangji was ready to die for. I think his heart is very much filled with dread in this scene.

Jiang Cheng’s line is interesting too—basically, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Solid, really, but it does come with some problems in reality. The enemy of your enemy just might stab you in the back later. It’s a very simplistic view, but I think at this point, Jiang Cheng is just happy to see the Wens dead. There are a few he wants to kill himself, but he seems satisfied if they just die out, regardless of who does it.

I like seeing Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng team up for these few episodes, because it’s fun seeing how they each approach the situations. Jiang Cheng relies heavily on his heart and emotions, which I can totally identify with. He wants to find Wei Wuxian and he wants revenge on Wen Zhuliu and Wen Chao—those are his two priorities. And then Lan Wangji is definitely more of a logical person—he wants to get to the bottom of these deaths and find out who is the person with so much wicked energy that is doing all of it—and also, that person is probably Wei Wuxian, who he is very interested in finding. Here Jiang Cheng wants to rush after Wen Zhuiliu, just as he did when he went back to Lotus Pier. He’s very rash, while Lan Wangji is much more calm and collected. I mean, if it were me, I’d want to see if they would give up any information before I killed them.

And the reveal is…Wen Chao is fucking disgusting! I didn’t even want to screencap one of the close-ups, because I felt like I’d have to do a trigger warning for blood lol. Not really, though, because I never do, sorry. I love the looks on Jiang Cheng’s and Lan Wangji’s faces, though. Jiang Cheng is so horrified and Lan Wangji is just mildly shocked. I think the real thing is like, who are we dealing with here? Who is this monster who’s been murdering everyone in all these different ways? Who has made Wen Chao look like this? Is this friend or foe? Like I said, Jiang Cheng keeps saying that as long as the person is killing the Wens, he’s fine with it, but I think even he is bothered by this level of mutilation, even against someone he loathes.

It’s hilarious to me that Wen Zhuliu uses this tactic with Wen Chao. Oh, you’re going to insult me? I’m useless? Okay, bye! LOL. Also very amusing that this is really the last conversation they have with each other: this bickering that they’ve probably done over and over off screen. Wen Zhuliu stays by Wen Chao’s side, though, because he’s indebted to Wen Ruohan, of course. It would have been a neat twist to see Wen Zhuliu defect. And you still could have had a dramatic scene where Jiang Cheng chases him down.

I love it! I love it I love it I love it! The flute! This part is so well done (it’s still a little campy, of course, but that’s part of the charm)! I mean, as the audience, we all know who it is by now, but I love that they keep up the mystery because Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng still don’t know. They didn’t see him walk in. I just love this.

And shock. Jiang Cheng looks significantly more surprised. It had never crossed his mind that the person doing all this was actually Wei Wuxian, the very individual that he’s been searching for. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, doesn’t really look surprised. He looks a little surprised, okay—I’ll give you that. But I think most of what he’s feeling right now is the deep dread of being right. He wanted to be wrong, even when everything pointed to Wei Wuxian. I don’t think he wanted to believe that Wei Wuxian was capable of this, no matter how much he wanted to get revenge for what happened at Lotus Pier. I think there’s disappointment there too—how could he do such a thing? And I’ve giffed this scene with this quote: “He started to estrange her…And they became strangers who knew each other’s heart, so broken as they drifted apart” (Ana Claudia Antunes, Pierrot & Columbine). I think the realization here and a bit later for Lan Wangji that Wei Wuxian has become some other person is quite heartbreaking. He’s like a stranger to him, and that feeling of betrayal when you thought you knew a person inside and out—that hurts. It’s a deep-seated betrayal that Lan Wangji feels throughout this scene.

Oh, what I also like about this part is that when Wei Wuxian appears, neither one of them can look away. They are solely focused on him at this point.

He finally gets his revenge on Wen Zhuliu. And it’s great. They jump through the roof and he strings him up with Zidian. I can’t really say anything about it—Jiang Cheng needed to do this or he never would have been able to move on from Lotus Pier and his parents’ death.

WWX: Have I changed?

JC: No, not exactly.

I love that these lines are exchanged while the camera is on Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji already sees how Wei Wuxian has changed: the flute, the wicked energy, the almost senseless killing—none of these things are like the Wei Wuxian he’s come to love. And yes, I think love—and it hurts more because there is love. Lan Wangji wanted to walk the straight path with Wei Wuxian together, and he feels betrayed by what Wei Wuxian has done. Despite that, he still wants to help him. He implores Wei Wuxian to come back to Gusu with him so that they can help him and bring him back to the right path.

This whole scene feels like Lan Wangji isn’t even in the room, it’s like a private conversation between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji just happens to overhear. He says nothing. He lets Jiang Cheng ask a hundred questions while Wei Wuxian calmly answers them. Wei Wuxian smiles and laughs, he seems himself, and yet he isn’t. There’s something wrong and Lan Wangji grows more and more perturbed by it as the seconds pass by.

The tension in this scene is palpable. It’s painful, it’s sad, it’s really hard for me to watch. And yet, this is one of my favorite scenes. Lan Wangji is feeling a lot, and he’s held it all in until this moment here. He calls him Wei Ying, and then Wei Wuxian in turn addresses him first as Second Master Lan, and then as Hanguang-Jun, both very formal names. It’s not Lan Zhan anymore—there is no familiarity on Wei Wuxian’s part. I think part of that is his attempt to protect Lan Wangji from any association with him that might actually harm Lan Wangji and his reputation. He’s setting a boundary—a wall—between them. And then when Lan Wangji bites back, Wei Wuxian changes tack: he stars being informal with him again, he brings up how they were good friends, classmates, etc. But that’s not going to work because Lan Wangji is feeling pretty upset right now.

Lan Wangji is desperate, scared, and worried for Wei Wuxian. Sometimes when we’re feeling all that, it can come across as anger, and that becomes worse when someone is dismissive of those feelings. Wei Wuxian is definitely dismissive here. In their interactions, Lan Wangji rarely shows this much emotion, and instead of paying attention to that, Wei Wuxian brushes it off. Jiang Cheng shows that he cares by hugging Wei Wuxian, but Lan Wangji is different—he’s thinking ahead, he’s seeing what Wei Wuxian has started to mess with—demonic cultivation—which can destroy a person’s mind, and he’s terrified. His only thought is to take Wei Wuxian away and try to change him for the better. Of course, just like what his father did to his mother, this cannot work. Even if Lan Wangji manages to force Wei Wuxian to come with him, he won’t be able to control him. All Lan Wangji can really do is try to persuade him.

The intensity of Lan Wangji’s gaze here is something else. This is a man who is desperate to save the person he loves. He is really looking out for Wei Wuxian’s best interests here and is getting no support from Jiang Cheng. I don’t really know what’s going on in Jiang Cheng’s head right now, but he’s definitely finding Lan Wangji’s behavior offensive. He doesn’t understand that Wei Wuxian’s actions will lead to his ultimate destruction, while it is very clear to Lan Wangji. But all I can do here is bring up how they viewed the person who was killing all the Wens earlier, before they even knew who it was. Lan Wangji felt very unnerved by it: he was disturbed by the talismans and disturbed by the various manners of death, while Jiang Cheng’s stance always was that it didn’t matter because the person was clearly on the same side—a dead Wen is a dead Wen no matter who is behind it. And his opinion doesn’t change even after he finds out. It’s not important to him how Wei Wuxian was able to kill all those people. He asks the questions, but he isn’t interested in really hearing the answer. On the contrary, I think Lan Wangji is very interested in those answers, but he wants to hear about it in a controlled environment. He doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to go back to Yunmeng, where he will essentially live with free-rein without boundaries.

As for cinematography, I love how Wei Wuxian holds up his flute here, setting up a literal boundary between him and Lan Wangji. Not only do you have Jiang Cheng creating that wall with his sword, you also have Wei Wuxian. What I mean is, it’s not only Jiang Cheng who wants to keep Lan Wangji out. Wei Wuxian is drawing a line here too: he wants Lan Wangji to stay out of his business. And this morphs into, what happens at this place is not Gusu Lans’ business—it only concerns Yunmeng Jiang Sect.

We all know Wei Wuxian is an arrogant person, but his arrogance and ignorance here is truly stunning. Lan Wangji tells him point-blank that he won’t be able to control this energy if he uses demonic cultivation, and Wei Wuxian does everything but laugh at him. I enjoy this and I hate it at the same time, because Lan Wangji is just fucking worried, you know? And maybe he doesn’t express himself well, but he’s shocked to see Wei Wuxian here, shocked that he’s responsible for all this—he can’t stay calm and collected under these conditions.

In just a few minutes, Wei Wuxian says that he and Lan Wangji are good friends and that Lan Wangji should treat him better, as well as “Who do you think you are? What I do is none of your business.” I’m paraphrasing, but that’s the gist. This scene here, with their faces so close to each other, kills me. This is absolute betrayal for Lan Wangji. It’s as if everything they had built together—all the respect, the affection, the comradery—is gone. The Wei Wuxian that he knew is gone.

I love the way this shot is framed, with Wei Wuxian staring after Lan Wangji, and then Wen Chao pleading, “Forgive me, forgive me.” So apt, because I think Wei Wuxian does feel bad here, I think he feels guilty. I think part of him really missed Lan Wangji and wanted to see him. I think he even knows that what Lan Wangji is doing is out of concern for him over anything else. But I also think Wei Wuxian’s pride gets in the way of that, and his desire for revenge, and even his desire for things to go back to normal. More than anything, Wei Wuxian wants to return to Yunmeng, to his shijie, to be able to live normally again, whatever that really means, because of course everything has changed. Nothing will ever be as it was again. More importantly, he has changed, and can never go back to the person he was before, the person who played so hard, the person who shirked his responsibilities and fooled around in classes, the person who shamelessly teased and flirted with Lan Wangji. That Wei Wuxian is gone. I think Wei Wuxian knows he’s hurt Lan Wangji and does feel bad about it, but he knows he has to push him away to protect him. He doesn’t want to drag Lan Wangji down with him, he feels it’s better this way. And I think, even though CQL!Wei Wuxian does have feelings for Lan Wangji quite a bit earlier than in the book, you can see the one-sided love here, in Lan Wangji’s aggressive behavior as he attempts to save this person he loves. Lan Wangji isn’t willing to give up on him, whereas Wei Wuxian is more prepared to let him go—to push him away to protect him. That’s love too, I suppose, but it’s a love that is meant to be from afar—a sad love, not a passionate one, not a desperate one, not the one that Lan Wangji feels for him.

This is so heartbreaking for Lan Wangji, in part, because they had such a special relationship before. Prior to this, Wei Wuxian prided himself in that he and Lan Wangji went on night hunts together—the clan didn’t matter, whether that was unorthodox or not. And now to see him use his clan as a barrier between them…it’s quite a betrayal. Lan Wangji feels so hurt, so at a loss—he wonders what could he have done differently to prevent this, he blames himself.

This is one of my favorite episodes because of this reunion scene. What you expect is some great reunion, the hugging between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, maybe a smile from Lan Wangji because he’s really happy to see him. But instead, you get pain. You get a Jiang Cheng hugging Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian not even returning the hug (he only raises his arm to signal that he wants to break apart). You get a heated confrontation between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, one that is “fondly” thought of as their break-up scene. I love the drama, I love the pain, I love the angst, I love the dichotomy between Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan, I love that this is the start of more tension between Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, I love everything about it. The “us and them” dynamic that starts here is so great, and then to see it slowly unravel throughout the next ten episodes, to see Wei Wuxian’s and Jiang Cheng’s relationship fall apart, while Wei Wuxian’s and Lan Wangji’s relationship begins to strengthen again--I eat it up. It’s like my candy. Anyway, I’m excited for what’s to come, excited to talk more wangxian and how it compares to the book (from my dwindling knowledge, that is)! Happy that you all are coming along this ride with me!

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |

[bts-teaspoonff]

Distance pt. 3 | FINALE

Genre: Romance, Oblivious Mutual Pining, Operation:Jealousy, College!AU, eventual smut

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: You adore Jimin but you’ve kept it a secret from him despite being so close to him. Jimin turns out that he feels the same. Would you be able to erase the distance between you and Jimin when mountains of obstacles come both your way?

Warnings: NSFW, lots of makeout sessions, slight angst but not significant, unprotected sex, creampie, vanilla sex, lewd words, cum eating

Word count: 10.4k

PARTS: 1 | 2 | 3

A/N: Their story has finally found its conclusion. It’s my first time to write smut and phew, I found myself breathing so heavy by the end of it. Anyways, I hope you loved Distance as much I do. I would love to hear what you think of the finale 💜

You didn’t get to go out on a date with Jimin the next day.

 Hoseok drove you home after the movie ended and felt bad because you were almost silent the whole way back home. You just blurted out a lie that you didn’t feel good, which maybe you really are after witnessing Jimin having a date with another girl. Why are you even jealous? It’s not like you have a right to be, and you’re also out on a date. If anything, you’re not giving Hoseok a good time. Later that night, you texted Jimin that you feel sick and it might be better if both of you cancel your plans to visit the café. You feel awful for cancelling but you absolutely don’t want to see him at the moment.

 You try to avoid Jimin when you got back to school. Luckily, you barely have any classes together but Taehyung and Jungkook would always ask you to eat lunch with them, which was already a habit for anyone in the group but seeing as you’ve been avoiding them, they started to ask you almost every day if you’ll eat with them. You would text anyone from the group that you got hold up by an errand from a professor or a meeting with your fellow classmates, which were all excuses just to avoid Jimin.

 You continuously try to bury yourself in your books to take your mind off Jimin. Taehyung and Jimin started to hang out every day with Jungkook at your house to study and practice for the Gala Night, so you did your readings in the campus’ library until late evenings. The more you see Jimin, the more it reminds you that he may be in a relationship already with some woman you don’t even know. Soon, he might introduce her to the group and she might start hanging out with everyone. You rather avoid him than see that every day.

 Jimin knew that night you texted him after your date with Hoseok that it has something to do with what transpired at the movie house. He was also worried that you’re sick. If he could allow himself to take care of you when you’re sick, he absolutely will in a heartbeat. He’s determined to get a chance to explain to you what happened when he sees you around campus. However, he noticed that you are always in a rush to go somewhere whenever the two of you see each other. You barely eat with them during lunch. You would always reply to his text that you’re busy.

 He convinced Taehyung to study with Jungkook at your house to get a chance to talk to you but on the second day that they went to your house, Jungkook told him that you started doing late night studies in the library. That’s when he realized that you were really avoiding him. Just when he thought he was already doing a good job in his progress with you, the both of you are back to having a huge distance between the two of you.

 It doesn’t help that the girl you saw with Jimin in the movie house suddenly appeared alongside Jimin and Taehyung in front of your house just when you were about to go back to the school’s library on one particular evening. Taehyung was about to get the doorknob when you suddenly opened the door. Taehyung and you gasped at each other in shock, in turn surprising the girl and Jimin too. Your eyes quickly landed on the girl beside Jimin and recognized her.

 “If you don’t mind, we brought another friend here.” Taehyung gestured to the girl. She smiled back at you and you did too. In your mind, the sight irritated you but not at her. Jimin stood quietly beside her. You don’t want to be rude since she is a guest in your house. She looks beautiful. Compared to how you look, tired and drained from all those nights burying yourself in your books. It irritates you that she’s now starting to be part of the circle, a circle where you’re grateful to spend a lot of time with Jimin.

 “No, I don’t mind. Make yourself at home.” You hid your emotions and just smiled as you took a step forward. “I’m sorry but I really have to get going.” The girl bowed at you as you walk past them. You continue to walk away from your house when you heard Jimin call out your name.

 “Do you really have to study in the library? You could just stay today. We can order takeout if you like.” Jimin quickly catches up to you. You turn around and saw from the porch that Taehyung and the girl must have already entered the house.

 “It’s okay. I prefer to study alone… in the library. If that’s okay.”

 Jimin was quiet. You saw him hesitate as he opened his mouth as if to say more. “We okay?” He slowly took your wrist, surprising you. Your eyes widened as you felt his touch. Your throat felt parched and your chest tightened. His eyes softened as he continues to stare at your wrist. It felt significantly thinner around his grasp. He remembers you slightly healthier than this moment and with this, he realized that you must have lost a bit of weight after all that late night studying for your final exams. He knows how hardworking you are but it concerns him that maybe you’re overworking yourself.

 You slowly retracted your hand away from Jimin, losing the contact between the two of you. “Jimin, don’t worry. We’re okay.” He looked at you as you smile, but he knows when you are faking one and this is it. Something hidden behind your smile. He feels hurt that you’re not happy and hopes that he could comfort you. Hoping that you will run to him to help you with whatever’s bothering you.

 You walked away without saying another word, leaving him standing in front of your house. Despite telling him that the two of you are okay, you most definitely are not. You would constantly drift in and out of studying, bothered with the thought of Jimin and the girl. You would find it difficult to breathe whenever his face would appear in your mind. A tug in your chest constantly troubles you, so tight that it felt like someone’s stabbing you repeatedly and squeezing you. You didn’t notice that you sighed so loud when a few people nearby shushed you.

 Rain started pouring heavily outside just as you were about to go home after the library has closed. You felt stupid remembering to forgo bringing your umbrella because it’s heavy in your bag. You fished out your phone in your bag as you stood under the shade of the building’s entrance. A few students holding their umbrellas were rushing out of the building, chatting alongside their friends, as few lights in the halls were starting to turn off.

 You were about to call Jungkook when you heard someone call your name. You lift your head and saw Jimin in front of you under an umbrella with your umbrella that you forgot at home in his other hand.

 “You forgot this.” He tries to hand you the one thing you need. You were frozen. It took you by surprise that Jimin is now here in front of you. It was only a few seconds but it felt like this was the longest you’ve seen his face this week. You slowly extend your hand out to take the umbrella from him but when your fingers were about to touch the umbrella, he pulled it away.

 “Aren’t you giving it to me?” you gave him a puzzled look.

 “I will but not before I get to talk to you first. If I give you this now, I’m sure you’re going to run and avoid me again.” It hurts you to see Jimin look this sullen. Sure, you did avoid him but you don’t want to hurt him in any way.

 “Why bother coming here just to give my umbrella? I could get home fine, and I could buy on from the convenience store. I’m sure you’re also busy, you didn’t have to bother at all. Besides, shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend and not here in the campus?” You pushed your phone back in your bag and you squeezed the straps tightly as you mutter the word ‘girlfriend’ out loud. When you finished your sentence, Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 “She’s not my… Wait, you thought she was my girlfriend?” He takes in your surprise and stutter as you try to answer him but nothing is heard out of your mouth. His pout now replaced with a shameless smirk. “Are you avoiding me because you thought she was my girlfriend? Is that it?”

 You felt like Jimin was pushing you off a cliff. It was true though. You did avoid him because of her, but now that it’s coming out of his mouth, you felt ashamed. You try to be silent for a few more seconds as he push for an answer from you a few more times. “Yes! What am I supposed to do instead, huh? I avoided you because seeing you reminds me of the two of you! I can’t stand it, that’s why I avoided you!” you shouted in one breathing, as if a balloon slowly being filled with air with no one stopping to fill it and it finally popped with a loud pang.

 Seeing Jimin surprised at your sudden outcry, you felt as if an ice cold bucket was poured on you. You didn’t mean to let it all out. Maybe it was the constant stress of studying or the reminder of the girl with Jimin pushed everything out of you. “I was jealous, okay? So… just leave me alone and let me handle my emotions in the meantime.”

 You walked past him, faster than you ever did before. You don’t mind the rain pouring down on your head, slowly soaking your clothes. The smell of the rain soaking the ground filled your nose as you pant for air. All you want is to just walk away from him because you just made everything awkward between the two of you. Your legs felt heavy as you try to realize that you’ve just admitted to him that you’re jealous. It was just barely hours ago that you’ve admitted to yourself that you were jealous, and you shouted it in front of his face.

 His hand caught your wrist and pulled you back to him. He spun you around, crashing your body into his chest. He lets go of his umbrella and proceeds to creep his hand unto the back of your head while he continues to pull your wrist with his other hand. His plump lips crashed into yours. As rough as he first landed his lips, he quickly begins to be gentle as his mouth slowly danced with yours. He takes in a deep breath, as if trying to savor your scent all in one go.

 You were taken aback at first but quickly gave in to his touch. It was everything for you. It feels as if the longing between you and Jimin that lasted for so long was finally satiated. He lets go of your wrist and lands his hands on your waist, gripping so tightly that you could almost feel the end of your shirt riding up from being tucked in your pants.

 His utter sincerity from his kisses. The passion. It was burning you. It was like someone finally opened the door and he just let himself go. You were gladly responding to his every action. You placed your hand on his back, slowly creeping up as the kiss goes on. Jimin felt it as you slowly try to accept his kisses, smirking so slightly while letting himself unto you.

 You pulled away first, gasping for air. The uncomfortable knot that occupied your chest for almost a week, now replaced with a burning desire for more from this man. He nudged his forehead to yours. You look up and saw him gazing and longing for your lips. “If I had known kissing you felt this good, I wouldn’t have hesitated this long.”

 You were still heaving for air. That kiss nearly took all the oxygen in your lungs. You want more.

 “I’m sorry if I made everything awkward between us. I really needed to avoid you or else, I could’ve made everything awkward between you and that girl.” You put your head down realizing that he must have been hurt when you avoided him this whole time.

 “What did I tell you? She’s not my girlfriend.” He lifts up your chin to let you look directly at him. He flashes a smirk and laughs in amusement. “She’s my cousin, here in town for a week. I guess you could say I’m her favorite that’s why she doesn’t hesitate to hug me. If you just let me explain then you would have spared yourself the burden of being jealous.” He gently rubs his thumb across your cheek as he adores how you look so flushed after the kiss. Despite having less light to illuminate everything around the two of you, he sees you as if you’re the brightest one.

 “I’m not jealous!” you pout your lips as you blatantly lie, blushing at the truth being pointed out by Jimin.

 “You just said so a while ago. No takebacks.” He giggled as he pulls you in closer to him. “Besides, there’s no need for you to be jealous. I’ve always been yours, baby.”

 He slowly takes your lips back into his again. His hand on your waist gripped tighter as the hand on your neck combs through your hair. Once again, everything took your breath. This Jimin was different from the Jimin you were used to. You loved it as you bask at the intimacy you two are now sharing. You could definitely feel his carnal desire. You let yourself go.

 …..

 “Finally done with exams!” Taehyung sighs as he slumps his back against Jungkook, who was eating his lunch in peace.

 You were sitting across the two while Jimin is sitting beside you, arms around your shoulders. The four of you are back in the cafeteria, enjoying your victory after a week-long exam marathon. All of you are physically and mentally drained. The three of them more so since they have been practicing a lot every night this week. Gala night is this weekend and they’re supposed to perform an original song on top of their planned setlist.

 The boys clearly expressed to you that there’s no chance you could hear their original song ahead of the Gala Night. They want you to hear it for the first time along with everyone else. You feel lonely that Taehyung and Jimin told you that they’ll work on the song on their own, despite asking for your help a month ago during Hoseok’s party. You let them do what they want since you also want to hear the product of their combined minds. Anticipation from you has been building, waiting to finally hear their music away from the touch of Namjoon’s and your’s. This will be the first time that the three of them will be making music on their own.

 “You know that I’m still here right?” Jungkook asks as he chews his food. He glares at you and Jimin as Jimin tries to smooch your cheeks. “She may be your girlfriend now but I’m still her brother. Don’t do it in front of me.” He chuckles as he tries to hit Jimin’s shoulder.

 Taehyung and Jimin exchanged laughs as they try to tease your brother. You laugh at them being so silly, missing the dynamics between everyone. Despite spending less time with them when you tried to avoid Jimin, everything was still the same when you got back. Now that you’re in a relationship with Jimin, everything stayed the same between you and the other boys.

 Actually, it went by so fast. That night that you two kissed, Jimin asked you to be his girlfriend and you accepted without batting an eyelash. It was quick. Now that you think about it, you never imagined that Jimin likes you back and would ask you to be his girlfriend. Even before you noticed your feelings for him, you have always imagined that someone would ask you to be their girlfriend in a more romantic way. Not that you want to be choosy but the way you two got together was so quick and lackluster. The kiss was definitely something but after that, he just asked you. Something feels lacking.

 There’s no need for you to dive deep into how he asked you to be his girlfriend. The fact that he’s finally yours, you’re happy with it. There’s no need for you to be choosy.

 “Have you been receiving any emails back from the companies you’ve applied to?” Taehyung addressed the question to you and Jimin. Seniors, which includes you and the two troublemakers, have sent their applications last month to various companies where they’ll have their training and if lucky, will eventually work there as well. This week, everyone will receive replies from those companies. As the dread from the exams has ended, another has taken its place.

 “None yet but I’ll inform everyone for sure if I receive any.” Your boyfriend confidently tells Taehyung and you. He turns his head to you, arms tightly gripping your shoulder. “You?”

 “Same. Still waiting.”

 “We’ll all still be together after college, right? All the companies I’ve applied to are just here in the city.” Taehyung grins as he try to disturb Jungkook from his lunch. “Jungkook still needs us to bother him.”

 Somehow, a tight rope in your chest started to tighten after hearing Taehyung. The three of you haven’t discussed each other’s plans after college. Maybe Jimin and Taehyung have already did but you haven’t informed them of yours yet.

 You went to the library that afternoon to return the books that you have borrowed for your readings. The library surprisingly feels a lot friendly today, compared to the other days where it has this heavy atmosphere from all the student who were cramming their notes in their brains. A lot of students were also returning heaps of books like you. Like a heavy load was taken off their back, your fellow students felt relieved that exam week is done.

 Gala Night will be this weekend. Everyone will have the chance to finally unwind and relax, with the music relieving them of their worries. Seniors will have their last chance to party in college before the pressure and burden of adulthood creeps in.

 As you were handing out the last book back to the counter, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You thanked and bid goodbye to the person behind the counter and turned around. You take out your phone and the sight of the notification stopped you in your tracks. An email notification clearly occupied your screen saying that it’s from the company that you’ve been waiting for a reply from the most. You held your phone against your chest as you look around as if you’re trying to hide something. You quickly walk and hide behind the bookshelves and leaned against it as you try to breathe in deeply.

 You try to calm down your nerves, clearing your anxiety at what could the email contain. It could say that they have rejected your application and you’ve lost your chance to work in your dream company. It could also say that they accept you and that would definitely be in the list of your top moments of this year, second to having that kiss with Jimin of course.

 You try to inhale deeply once more before slowly lifting the phone off your chest. You open the email and read it. Everything became so silent around you. Your focus is all on reading the contents of the email. You carefully read each words as if reading it twice can make your comprehension with the language even clearer.

 “Fuck!” you shriek as you take in what you just read. You slapped your hand against your mouth when you remembered you’re still in the library. You giggle under your hands as your heart continues to pound in your chest.

 Your dream company just accepted you. You’re finally getting the fruits of your labor. You celebrate in the small area behind the bookshelf in the library as you throw punches in the air.

 You rejoice in your victory for a few more minutes before remembering the thing you’ve been holding off for a long time from Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin. As if strapping bricks on your feet, you stop in your place as your heart begins to get heavy. This company you’ve applied to is in another country. “Fuck.”

 …..

 It’s Saturday, supposed to be everyone’s rest day but everyone at your house is busy. Jimin and the boys are down practicing non-stop for their performance for tomorrow’s Gala Night. You still haven’t informed Jimin about the email as you haven’t found the right moment to tell him of your news. A part of you is also torn whether to consider it as a good news or bad news. Just when everything is finally falling into its right place between you and Jimin, your dream will be the force pulling you both apart from each other once more.

 After their practice that had lasted the whole morning until afternoon, Jimin quickly took a break and excused himself away from his bandmates to spend some time with you. He ran to your bedroom, stopping in front of your door. He knocked but heard no answer from you. Once again, he knocked and called your name. When you didn’t answer, he slowly opened the door, catching a sight of you napping on your beanbag. He admires how adorable you look, curled up like a ball under your fluffy purple blanket as you tightly hold your phone while you sleep.

 He kneels down in front of you as he stares at your every feature. He never felt this lucky now that he knows that he’s finally got you. You’re his girlfriend now and nothing can keep you apart. He’ll do anything just to stay by your side.

 He saw a stray strand of your hair across your face and tucked it behind your ear as he carefully take your phone off your grasp. Once he successfully pulled your phone away, he wraps his hand under your legs and behind your back to carry you off the beanbag. You look so precious around his arms as he continues to stare at you when he walks towards your bed. Gently laying you down, it’s taking everything from him to resist kissing you. He wants to respect you by taking it slow and although you two have kissed once, he still respects your consent.

 He roamed around your room, observing every little detail. He hasn’t been in your room for so long. Now that the two of you are in a relationship, being alone with you seems more intimate now. He ingrains in his mind every cute item decorating your personal space. His eyes darts to the wall plastered with lots of Polaroid of the boys and you. He reminisces every moment depicted in each photo especially those with Namjoon and Hoseok. He deeply misses his older band members now that they’re busy working away from the four of you.

 He felt slight jealousy when he saw a photo of you squeezed in a hug between Namjoon and Hoseok. He remembers it taken by Taehyung after hanging out with everyone on the beach last year to celebrate their graduation. If it wasn’t for Taehyung and Hoseok’s help, he wouldn’t have the courage to make further moves on you.

 |FLASHBACK|

 “I guess we’ll hang out here until the rain stops then we’ll head home.” Taehyung turns to look outside the window as the sound of the rain against the house gets louder by the second. Jimin was busy heating up the pizza slices in the kitchen when he heard Taehyung. Jungkook was busy teaching Jimin’s cousin the guitar across Taehyung in the living room.

 “Shouldn’t she be home by now? It’s getting late.” Jimin asks as he worries about you going home in this ungodly weather.

 “She must be on the way home right now. Don’t worry, she’ll get home fine… if she didn’t forget to bring her…” Jungkook turns to the shelf beside the door where you usually place your umbrella. You have a habit of forgetting your umbrella which is why you made it a point to have a designated place for your umbrella near the door. “…and she did. I’m not surprised.” Jungkook excused himself from the guitar lessons with Jimin’s cousin, standing up to put his guitar away on the couch as he walked back up the stairs to get ready to pick you up.

 “Jungkook, don’t pick her up. Let Jimin do it.” Taehyung changes the channel on the TV from the remote as he tells Jungkook. Jimin, taken aback by Taehyung’s suggestion, walks out of the kitchen and to the living room to question his best friend.

 “Can’t you see she’s avoiding me? Besides, we don’t know if she’ll be calling Jungkook to pick her up. She might call Hoseok, now that they’re dating.” Jimin points at Jungkook and back at Taehyung.

 Taehyung laughs. “Okay. We’re not supposed to tell you this but seeing as the situation between you and her is getting worse, might as well tell you.”

 “Tell me what?”

 “It’s all just an act with Hoseok. We planned the confession just to rile you up. To make you jealous. We’re getting so impatient between the push and pull dynamic between you and her. No one’s making a move despite your obvious feelings for each other, it’s frustrating me and Hoseok. That’s why we made a plan to make you jealous.” Taehyung leans back against the couch, staring at his best friend.

 “Wait. What? They’re not dating?” Jimin is so puzzled that he kept on glancing back and forth to Jungkook and Taehyung.

 “Yes.” Taehyung slowly reiterates as he rolled his eyes at Jimin. “I’m so frustrated at seeing the two of you be oblivious with each other, so I tried to interfere. Your best wingman, at your service! You can thank me later.”

 Jungkook was already back at the front door, unnoticed by Jimin. He pulled out your umbrella from its designated slot inside the shelf and threw it to Jimin. “He complains to me non-stop about you guys, so get on with it to make him stop. As her brother, you have my blessing.” Jimin caught the umbrella as he sees Jungkook grin and gives a thumbs-up as green light.

 Never have Jimin moved so fast, intent on seeing you as soon as possible. Taehyung threw his car keys to Jimin as he opened the door. The two boys that were left back in the house smiled warmly at each other as they saw Jimin’s swift exit.

 |END OF FLASHBACK|

 Your eyes felt heavy as you try to pry it open after your afternoon nap. All the fatigue from your all-nighters caught up to you as you regain control of your body trying to get up from the confines of your bed. Your vision was still slightly hazy but you recognized a figure standing near your desk. Jimin. You recognize his back anywhere, no matter how hazy or unclear your vision is. You call his name out with your sleepy voice still warming up from being awaken. He didn’t turn back to your call so you try to call him again.

 He slowly turns to you but something felt wrong. You try to wonder why he’s not reacting fast to your call as if he’s busy with something. You recognize something familiar that was in Jimin’s hands as you were getting off your bed. Both of your eyes met and immediately, you felt unable to speak further. Words choked up in your throat as you regret not cleaning up your table to hide the item that Jimin is now tightly gripping with all his might. It was subtle but you could see that his hand was slightly shaking. Unsure whether if he’s angry or afraid of what he might’ve read.

 “I can explain…” Slowly, you take a few steps forward towards him as if you were on high alert with how to handle the situation.

 “What’s this?” you could feel his sadness just from the few words he let out as he gaze upon you, holding the letter out to you. “Why does it say America? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” The small piece of paper, now trembling in his hands.

 “I do plan to tell you but I haven’t found the right timing yet.” You took one step closer but you noticed he took a step back as well. You’re scared. You don’t want him to think that you’re hiding something from him which you really aren’t. You just don’t know how to break it to him gently. “I applied for a job and I got an email from them that I got accepted. The letter just arrived yesterday.” Your hands were starting to get clammy and your throat felt dry as well.

 “Why didn’t you tell any of us that you were planning to leave town and work there?”

 “I was not sure they’ll accept me. I just took my shot. I don’t want to disappoint you guys if I tell you then it turns out I got rejected. Applying there was a long shot.” You once again try to take a step closer and pressed on, when you saw Jimin accepting your concern to remedy the situation and not stepping back. “Believe me, I don’t intend it to be a secret from all of you.” You slowly try to place your hands on his quivering wrist that is tightly holding the letter.

 “So you’re just gonna leave us here? I thought we all talked about staying here in the city. Find jobs here.” you could hear a slight tone of anxiety and sorrow from his tiny voice. His black hair slowly clouding his face. A shadow looming over his face. You felt his sorrow as well just by looking at him. This was not your intention.

 “I know we all talked about it. I’m sorry if I haven’t told you guys but…” you gently rub your hands along his arms to at least try and comfort your boyfriend. “This has always been my dream. I’ll regret it if I didn’t let myself take the shot no matter how impossible it may be. There has never been a day where I’m not grateful for the memories and company you guys gave me. The thought of leaving town and living alone on the other side of the world scares me. It’s all thanks to you guys that I was able to go out of my comfort zone and was able to make a lot choices that makes me who I am today. Thanks to you, Jimin. You’ve always been there for me, encouraging me when I was unwilling to take a step forward. Now, I am taking that step and I hope you’ll let me.” You place your hands on his cheeks as he still kept his longing gaze on you.

 You felt his warm hands occupy your cheeks, wiping what seems to be tears flowing down on your warm cheeks. You didn’t notice it. You were occupied with the thought of pacifying the situation and the thought of leaving Jimin was now real. You just started a relationship with him and you were unsure what your new job would mean between the two of you. Jimin leaving you is definitely not the thing you want. If you could reject the job, you could but you’ve been dreaming for this even before you’ve met and liked him. You truly wish for him to understand and support you, and if he won’t, you tell yourself that you’ll accept where he wants your relationship to go. If he’ll break up with you for this, you’ll accept it and let him leave however painful it is.

 He pulled you for a hug, still silent and not saying a word. You were still trying to grasp on what he’s thinking right now but you won’t push him further. He grips you tightly into the hug that you’re sure his fingers would bruise your skin but you reciprocate the tightness. You don’t want him to let go of the hug. You don’t want him to let go of you, not when you just got him. The distance between you just started to close but now, it felt like its back to being miles away from each other. It frustrates you that probably something celestial is intent on keeping you apart.

 You were now sniffing and crying in his arms, unaware of the mess you’re making on his shirt. He rubs his hand on the top of your head and he pushes you away from his chest to look at you and the mess you’re making. You admit that Jimin being hush makes you even more anxious and nervous. You prefer to just bicker with him at this point since that would make yours and his thoughts vocal to each other. You lift your head up to look at him with eyes beaded with tears.

 He takes in your beauty as he watched you. He inched closer to you and next, you’re feeling his plump lips taking yours. A kiss so different from the first time you had with him. This was filled with yearning and ache. As if the words you were waiting for him to say, he expressed it with this kiss. He closed the distance with you in mere seconds. You understand what he felt as he ravishes your lips. He doesn’t want to let you go but he wants to support you as well. Every fiber in his being wants to pull you back to him but he doesn’t because he doesn’t want to deprive you of your happiness.

 He walks you back to the direction of your bed while continuing to pour out his feelings to you through the kiss. You wrapped your hands around his neck as you both drown in the intimacy of the moment. A few moments later, the back of your knees hit the end of your bed causing the two of you to crash on your bed. You gasped at the sudden weight of Jimin crashing into you while he continues to stroke his hands through your hair, unbothered by the change of position.

 “Jimin?” You ask as you try to get a word out of him. He whined and continues to shower you kisses. You felt his tongue brush your lower lip, causing the heat beneath your legs to further warm you up. His hands were all over your body and you didn’t complain. You want this too. Heck, you’ve been dreaming of this too. Nights filled with thoughts of Jimin were too frequent.

 The sudden contact of his cold hands on your skin under the end of your shirt shocked you. The intense heat of the moment and from your body completely contrasted his icy cold hands. It almost burned you but you continue to savor the moment. The intense touches he’s giving you. His kisses were now crawling from the sides of your lips to your neck. Goosebumps appeared behind your neck and on your arms as you felt him mapping out your skin with his warm lips. You let out a whimper and this further pushed out the desire he’s been keeping for so long caged inside Jimin. He slowly nibbled your ears and let out a groan.

 It took your breath away, further driving you wild. You stroke his back harder, careful not to scratch him. The frustration of wanting to touch him for who knows how long was clouding your mind. You want more. You both surrender to each other when a knock disturbed the two of you. Jimin scoff internally inside his thoughts at whoever decided to cockblock him from having you.

 “Hey, is Jimin there? We need him for another practice. Jungkook still needs to polish a few parts in the setlist.” Taehyung carefully whispers through the door without knocking, unsure if you’re taking a nap or not. Everyone knows by now how precious your afternoon nap is. They could tease you anytime but not when you’re taking a nap.

 Jimin and you were both looking at the door, lips still on each other. You part your lips from Jimin and answered, telling that Jimin is indeed in your bedroom and will return to practice as soon as possible. You felt Jimin groan against your lips and also heard Taehyung answer, his footsteps slowly getting farther from your bedroom.

 You and Jimin stared at each other for a moment and giggles erupted from the two of you after realizing what just happened. He caressed the side of your face, scanning your face. You returned the gesture as you place your hand on his cheeks. You place a peck on his lips, shocking him. It was the first time you initiated intimacy between the two of you.

 “We’ll talk more about it, okay? I promise.” You smile at him as you express your sincerity. He adored you being under him looking so flushed and he couldn’t resist you looking so enamored with him. He nods and gave you back a peck before parting his body from you, getting off the bed and walking out of the bedroom.

 You plan to talk to him more but of course you didn’t get to since your parents called you for an errand to get some groceries. By the time you got back, Taehyung and Jimin already left. Jungkook told you that Jimin had to drive his cousin somewhere urgent. You lost another chance to remedy the situation between the two of you. Although the two of you can talk about it on the phone, nothing beats being in front of him to talk about it. Tomorrow’s the Gala Night so you figure it’s best that you both talk it out after. Also, it bothers you that Jimin hasn’t said a word to you yet. Even when you were making out, he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe it’s better to trust him and not further drown yourself with anxious thoughts.

 …..

 You were part of the technical crew in charge of the sound system for the Gala Night. Despite your urge to rush in front of the crowd to get a closer look at the stage, you prefer your peace at the sound booth at the back of the auditorium elevated higher than the audience almost at the same height as the stage. The audience started to make some more noise as they see Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung take their place on the stage.

 It felt funny seeing few girls getting giddy and blushing at the sight of the three. You remember all the moments when they used to perform with Namjoon and Hoseok and it would increase their fans twicefold the next day. Majority of the screaming fans among the audience were girls from Jungkook’s batch and freshman students. You laugh at the sight of those three goofballs be heartthrobs and be adored by everyone.

 Soon, they start performing some of their old songs that were loved by the audience. Jungkook breezed through the songs, belting out as the main vocalist. Jimin would have guitar solos, making the girls fall over for his charms at every strum of the strings. Taehyung would make every beat of the drums hypnotize the audience as if a flower was calling every bees to come forth for its honey. You would sway your head and sing to their songs in your seat. Closing your eyes to let yourself be absorbed into the music.

 The next song would be their new original song. As Jungkook was introducing the song, Jimin walks up beside him. Everyone in the auditorium were focused on Jungkook as he expresses that this song was made by Jimin and Taehyung and is sort of a parting gift for everyone since they’ll be graduating soon, granting groans from the audience. He also told that he wouldn’t be the one leading the song. Everyone was surprised when Jimin took Jungkook’s place in front of the mic. You were also surprised at the turn of events. This would be the first time Jimin would be taking over a song as the vocalist. Yes, he sings a few parts and belts out adlibs here and there but you haven’t heard him perform a whole song.

 “This song is slightly personal. I put out my heart and all my thoughts into this song.” He turns back to Taehyung and Jungkook, who’s now holding his guitar. They nod at each other and Jimin turns back to the audience looking for you. When he did find you at the back, he smiled and held the mic tightly. “This is Distance. I hope you guys love it.”

 You shot your entire attention at Jimin, never leaving him. The music started slow. It was an entirely different kind of music from what they put out before. This is almost like a sensual RnB genre complimented by the sounds of Taehyung’s drums and Jungkook’s electric guitar. The audience grew quiet as they felt the mood change, listening intently to the strumming of the guitar lead by Jungkook. You watch Jimin as he starts to sing out the lyrics.

 You listen intently to the lyrics. He sings about a person haunted by his feelings, unable to fully express what he wanted. The person felt that the main force holding him back was himself. He cares deeply for another person, willing to do anything for her. Ready to fight battles alongside her, no matter how much sacrifices he’s asked to make. He reaches out again and again but there’s like a dark and ominous figure holding him back. Just as he was about to give up, the person that he loves reaches out for him. The hand reaching out for him, upon contact, lit up everything around him. He takes it and everything he hid inside his chest comes bursting out. Everything around the both of them blossomed and was painted with different hues of color. He expressed all his fears to the person he adores. The fear of being left behind, being rejected, being abandoned and being thrown away. He kept this confident persona in front of everyone to hide his true feelings. He loved that person with his entire being.

 Jimin ended the song by singing the question, “Do you accept me? Because I offer myself to you.”

 You felt Jimin’s passion as he sang the song. Jimin was panting, clearly heard through the mic. His stares were burning you. You soon realize that Jimin was singing about the two of you. He expressed his feelings about you through the song. The words you were longing for ever since that rainy night were all poured out for you through his song. Your cheeks were burning so hard that you felt so flushed even up to the soles of your feet. You try to fan yourself to cool down but his eyes were still on you, burning you further.

 The screams and roar of the audience shook both of you away from the unspoken burning desire blooming between the two of you. Jimin smiled as he take in the audience’s warm response for his song. You two may have been at the opposite poles of the auditorium but you two understood each other completely. You heard his confession and you answered back with complete surrender to him.

 …..

 Jungkook gave you the tightest hug he could give as he quietly hide his head in the crook of your neck while he sob. You see Taehyung and Jimin standing behind him, smiling at the two of you. Jimin was holding your luggage as he pushed Taehyung to take Jungkook off you and proceed to say his farewell.

 Taehyung gently pulled Jungkook’s shirt, laughing at the youngest band member as Jungkook comically wipes his nose after pulling away from you. Jungkook quietly walks back to Jimin, and Taehyung was now hugging you. Taehyung was the clingiest one out of the bunch, especially to the other band members. He doesn’t shy away in hugging you, as well. You would always oblige since it always warms your heart whenever you would welcome his hugs.

 “Take care of yourself. Eat a bit healthier. Don’t follow any strangers. Always guard your drinks when you go partying. If any of your coworker bullies you, tell them you have a friend who is a master of martial arts.” You laugh as he rambles while still hugging you. He ends the hug and faces you.

 “Yes, mom, I will.” You pinch his adorable cheeks. You look at him for a few seconds before asking him to come closer. “I forgot to thank you. Hoseok already confessed everything to me. You’re the best wingman Jimin could have.” Taehyung, surprised that you know their secret, pulled back to look at you with huge eyes. You giggle as you try to put your finger on your lips, assuring him that you’ll keep mum about it.

 “Anything for you two.” He walked back as he smiled warmly at you.

 Jungkook and Taehyung waved and stayed back, as you and Jimin walk further inside the airport. You two were silent as you tread along the building, knowing that each passing moment means that you’ll soon be spending so much time away from him. You want to run away with him but you hold yourself out from acting your desires. A small sacrifice for your happiness. He did tell you again and again that he would wait for you no matter how long it takes. You place all your trust in him.

 Jimin squeezed your hand inside his, stopping you in your tracks. “I love you, y/n.”

 It was the first time he put his feelings into words that is directly addressed to you. You may have heard and understood the lyrics of his song and for whom it was addressed to but hearing your name coming from his mouth tickles your heart. You love this person. Everything about him is amazing. Every moment spent with him is magical.

 “…and I love you, too.” Jimin also didn’t expect you to reply. “Wait for me, okay? I promise I’ll come back and I’ll be yours always. I’ll always be waiting for you too.” You cup his face with your hand. Jimin leans his face further into your hand, closing his eyes at the warmth and gentleness you’re providing. He tries to remember your touch, your warmth, and your scent.

 “I won’t be long.” You didn’t understood what he meant but not for long, he lifts your chin and proceeds to kiss you. A kiss so gentle that your heavy anxiety of parting ways with him has been lifted off you. A kiss so precious as if time stopped around you, blocking the sound of people rushing to get to their check-in gates and luggage wheels rolling on the tiles of the airport.

 Lips parting, you both gaze at each other as Jimin nudged his nose to yours.

 …..

 It has been a month since you left. You’ve adjusted well in your new environment. Luckily, everyone in the company has been generous in giving you a warm welcome. It didn’t take long for you to adjust to your workload and perform brilliantly. You also met a lot of new friends outside the company, common friends of your workmates. Everything was going swell, except for the moment when you would be alone in your apartment. You would quickly do video calls with Jimin if yours or his schedule matches. Most of the time, you leave video messages or voice recording if you catch him sleeping already or him with you. It frustrates you but you always remind yourself that it’s a small sacrifice for your happiness.

 One day, Jimin was leaving all your messages on seen. You want to scream at him and the anxiety creeped up on you the longer he left your messages. You were obviously in a bad mood the whole day. Your friends at work also noticed this and you would just reassure them that you’re fine. A male friend of yours offered to drive you back to your apartment as everyone was walking out of the building to go home. You politely decline when a voice abruptly disturbed the both of you. You both look at the direction of the voice and was surprised to see your boyfriend. Surprised by the unfamiliar blonde locks on his head as he stood so proudly a few feet away from you.

 Words caught in your throat, all you could say was “Jimin?!?”

 He smugly walked up to you as he glare at the man beside you. The man quickly understood the situation and bids you goodbye. Jimin slowly walks beside you as he placed his hand around your waist. He sees you, mouth agape and still can’t talk at his surprise appearance. “I missed you!” He kissed your cheeks, taking you by surprise.

 “Why…but how?...When?” You stutter as you try to take in the fact that your boyfriend is now in front of you, in America. Miles away from his home and he didn’t bother to tell you about it.

 “Let’s go to your apartment. I can tell you all about it there.” As if in a rush, he pushes you by the waist to hurry and go home to your place.

 However, when you arrived at your apartment, Jimin didn’t hesitate to devour you by the entrance hallway of your apartment. He pushes the door close with his feet as he take your lips. No matter how many times you two have kissed, you can still differentiate each kiss. Today, it’s burning with desire for you. He latches onto your mouth like it’s his lifeline. You let yourself overdose with the taste of him, and so does he. His plump lips felt divine that has you moaning under him.

 Your heavenly moans had him wanting more. Both of you stayed latched against each other’s bodies as you try to remove any accesories that you can while directing him to your bedroom. He pushes you back unto the mattress when you were surprised at the force your back met the soft linen.

 He unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt and pulled the sleeves higher before he dove back to you. Not wasting any moment, he writhed his hands behind your nape and gripped your waist. Your eyes shutting close at the brush of his lips and the taste of his tongue on yours. Kissing him felt so natural to you as you indulge in his presence and touch. He now dives his lips on your neck, crumbling your last bit of self-control. You let go and wrapped your hands behind his head and through his now-blonde locks. You felt goosebumps as he sensually pepper your neck with kisses.

 You realize how much you’ve put yourself in critical position, you gently push him away before this gets any further. You didn’t want to ruin the mood but you’re still very confused at the sudden appearance of your boyfriend. You haven’t said any words to him but he quickly understood what’s painted on your face. “I’ll explain later, I promise.” You both stay gazing at each other and taking in the close proximity between you. “Can I please have you tonight?”

 You nod, understanding what he meant. “Please Jimin.”

 He quickly closes in the distance between the two of you and placed his lips above your collarbone, earning a sensual groan from you. This has urged Jimin to further surrender to his carnal desire for you, no longer holding back. As you felt his hand gripping the sides of your waist, he laps his lips to nibble on your ear.

 “Ah Jimin!”

 He growls, “Fuck I missed you”. His hands quickly finds it place under your breasts to fondle it and you grow even weaker. Your moans making the tent under his pants grow even harder at every touch. He marks you purple and red behind your ear as he noticed how you moan loader as he teases your ear.

 You tightly grip his hair as he continue to kiss your neck and his delicate hand found its way to the buttons of your shirt, removing each piece as he unravels you half-naked before him. You quickly lift up your back off the bed, helping him by removing your shirt and bra off of you. He worships at the view of your nakedness before him. He proceeds to fully unbutton his white dress shirt and attempts to remove it completely when you stopped him.

 “Don’t take it off. You look good in corporate attire. It turns me on.” Jimin sees you scanning him as you display a fucked out face despite not yet having been fucked. He finds himself further in danger of losing himself to you.

 He leans back to you, now rolling his tongue around your nipples while his other hand fondles your other breast. Insatiable, he alternates between your breasts as he tastes you more. You submit entirely to him after having been deprived of his touch. It takes him by surprise when you pushed him, rolling onto his back and now you’re on top of him.

 You crawl south, pulling down the zipper of his pants and his cock sprung out to greet you. Big is an understatement. If he went inside you with this, you would definitely be sore and limping later. You grab his big hard erection and flicked your tongue at the tip, earning a very sensual groan from Jimin. His hands quickly landed on either side of your head. You looked at Jimin and found him staring at you, etching the sight of you sucking him forever in his mind. Seeing him enjoying your touch as you ravage him turns you on.

 It only takes a matter of seconds before you start sucking his length, bobbing your head up and down. You work on his cock capably with your tongue and mouth, and stroking the remaining length which can’t fit your mouth with your hands. You didn’t notice that he held your head and further pushed you down on his cock. You slightly gag as you felt the tip hit the back of your throat. The remaining length that you were stroking was now being occupied by your mouth as your nose met his skin. Something about it felt so naughty that you let your hand fondle the heat between your legs.

 Jimin concentrated on your lips wrapped on his cock as he try to pull his underwear and pants off his legs. He lift his back off the bed as you continue. His hands now unzipping your skirt and prompting you to remove it. You did what was asked of you and also removed your underwear.

 There’s this strong desire between the two of you and you both know you’ll bask in it tonight.

 He looks at you as you lay down naked on the bed. You crawl up towards the headboard and he kneels at the end of the bed. You could almost feel yourself dripping wet as he stood there with his cock in full display. “Spread your legs for me.” His commanding tone suddenly made you hot and limp before him. Soon, you find yourself displaying everything for him. It didn’t take long before his lips found its way on your pussy.

 It felt like electricity is coursing through you. He savors your taste as you grip his hair, careful not to tug too tight. It felt bizarre looking at Jimin with blonde hair but he looks even hotter with his new locks. You let your head back as you moan and shout his name. He further wiggles his tongue on your clit, wanting more of your reaction to his touch. You grab whatever you can to try and control yourself in shouting from pleasure. He enjoyed your struggle so he soon pushed one finger inside you. You were so wet for him already that his finger didn’t meet any resistance so he quickly added another finger.

 “Your pussy tastes so good.” He pushes his tongue inside your pussy along with his two fingers. Defeated, you lean back, grinding your hips into his face. You felt something and so did Jimin. Your walls are starting to throb and close in on his fingers so inserted one more finger. You scream at the stretch of his three fingers and looked at Jimin. “I have to prepare you well so that you can take me.” He lets his other hand play with your clit, circling it around. It was too much. The stimulation from his hands further pulling you into a strong orgasm. You shiver under him as he fucks you with his fingers through your orgasm. Once you were done, he slowly pulled out.

 You pant, limp on the sheets as you try to remember that you’re not yet done. He still haven’t fucked you. You anticipate the stretch that his cock will bring when you turn to see Jimin stroking his cock as he crawls between your legs. He lines the head of his cock against your entrance, rubbing it up and down. He looks at the contact of his member on yours as he spreads your wetness even further around your pussy.

 Eager for him to start, you wiggle your hips closer to him. He laughs at your impatience as he lifts your waist closer to him. “I won’t hold back tonight. I can’t promise to be gentle all the time but if you want me to stop, I will.”

 “Fuck me senseless until tomorrow, Jimin. I want you.” With this, he thrusts his entire cock inside your pussy. Soon, you both progress into an amazing rhythm, bodies intertwined against each other. Your hips pushing back and forth to meet each of Jimin’s strong thrusts. In unison, you release sounds of exquisite pleasure and scream each other’s names.

 He rolls you, your face meeting the pillow. You were completely laid flat on the bed when his cock quickly found its way to enter you once again. He pushed your legs to close while he rides you. He pushes you further into the bed as he fucked you into oblivion. Jimin felt like a beast. He stayed true to his words by not holding back and you loved it. You ask him to be rougher and it would further edge him on. You could feel the tip of his cock almost opening your womb.

 Another orgasm is pending to overwhelm you and Jimin could now feel it around his cock. He continues to pound you in the roughest manner you’ve ever experienced. It felt like heaven as you let your orgasm take over you. “Where do you want me to release it?” Jimin didn’t let his rhythm falter through your orgasm but anymore and he can’t further prolong his orgasm.

 “I want everything inside. Cum inside me, Jimin!” You screaming his name eventually pushed him to cum inside you. As he paints your walls white, he pushed inside you even further. He slumps his body close to you as you hear his lips moaning your name beside your ear. Both of you moaning and reveling in each other’s touch.

 He pulled out after making sure that he let out every drop inside. The sight of you dripping of his essence made him groan. He quickly stood off your bed to get you a glass of water. He hands you the glass of water from your side table. You took a quick sip and felt Jimin heading below you, wiping his cum dripping out your pussy with a tissue. You let your other hand to crawl down your pussy and inserted it, scooping out any cum that was left. Jimin froze at the lewd sight of you inserting two fingers inside your pussy while busy sipping from your glass of water. You let his cum accumulate before pulling your fingers to your mouth, swallowing his cum. He swallowed at how hot you are right now, drinking his cum and tasting yourself. You giggle under your fingers, seeing that teasing him worked.

 “Such a naughty girl.” He smirked and it made you laugh. He laughs at you as well. He took your blanket and covered both of you, cuddling under it.

 “Are you going to tell me now why you’re here?” you pulled him closer to you as you wiggled your head across his chest. He laughs at how quickly you turned this adorable after witnessing what a storm of a seductress you were a while ago.

 “I’m going to live with you now starting from today.” You froze and quickly sat properly beside him, pushing yourself away from his chest. He takes in your confused look before further explaining. “I did tell you at the airport that I won’t be long. I arranged everything and now, I’ll be working in the same city as you. We’ll be in the same time zone now.” He rubs his hand across your cheek.

 “You did...what… for me?” Your tears now starting to pool around your eyes and fall. He takes in each drop in his hand and rubs it off. “I love you.” You sob quietly as you rub your cheeks back onto his hand.

 “I know. I love you too.” He pulls you closer. “We’ll reach for our dreams together without ever being apart.” He slowly takes your lips once more. Your love for Jimin felt stronger. You never felt happier to have him finally beside you.