#long threads get quickly hidden behind a 'show more' button that pulls up a pop up instead of just expanding the thread

[lildoodlecat]

After my debacle with that soundtrack I have been ✨inspired✨ to do some more archival work for myself but that quickly got. Very ambitious. Have you ever tried to preserve over a hundred deviantart comment threads—

[sp00kworm]

April Rain (Chapter 3)

Ch 1       Ch 2        Ch 4

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN LINK

Pairing: Yagi Toshinori (All Might) x Female Reader

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It was the next day when you remembered that you never told Yagi the name of the place you were meeting him at. The it took you another hour to realise that he’d tried to hide your meeting from his assistant, and that if you rang the normal line would reveal the little plan. With a great deal of anxiety, you looked to your phone for the fourth time that morning, washing tucked against your chest as you looked between it and the television. There was some odd hero reality show on. It was a generic plot line with all the random dramas of being a superstar included. You had it on for background noise. The screen of the smart phone stayed black as you looked at it. A shiver of shock rippled through you as the screen lit up with the jangly tune of your annoying ringtone. It was an unknown caller. You peered at it before leaping for the phone, snatching it from the pillow before taking a steadying breath and flicking the answer button across the screen.

“Hello? This is…” You were cut off by the sound of a loud bang and hurried breathing, the sounds of a crowd screaming ‘All Might’ over and over. They were chanting.

“Ah!” Yagi’s voice rang down the phone as he caught his breath, “Sorry for ringing you!” His voice stuttered over your name as the cheering grew quieter. His hand moved near the microphone.

 “Its alright, Yagi…Wait. How did you get my number?” You asked as the sound of his fans grew quieter and quieter in the background.

A tie slid from around his neck as he sat down in a chair, the material creaking under his great weight, “Well… I am friends with the chief of police…” He pressed the phone to his shoulder and clapped his hands together, “I’m sorry, but I remembered that I forgot to ask just…where the tea shop is?” He was embarrassed. You could hear the tone in his voice as he picked something up to play with in one hand. The end of the pen clicked under his thumb, “I only got your number just to ask you. I swear it!”

“It’s fine Yagi. A little but unorthodox, but ah, I was just about to try and get hold of your office…I forgot to tell you about the address and I just remembered as well, so, no harm done.”

The hero chuckled down the line, “Well, I guess we are both as forgetful as each other, no?”

“I suppose you could say that, yes.” You smiled before continuing, “Its in the Meguro district closer to the residential area.” You gave him the address and you heard him scribble it down on a piece of paper, “Do you want me to send it to this number too? Just in case?”

“Yes, please.” He tucked the paper into his suit jacket, the paper scrapping against the silk before he sighed.

“Busy day?” You asked with a soft laugh, tucking the phone against your shoulder as you collected your clothes again and moved to go and put them away.

All Might hummed, “I did not expect a television company to let hoards of fans near the interview set.” He confessed, “Don’t get me wrong! I love my fans but…”

“But sometimes you like a bit of privacy?” You added as you opened your drawer with your cast arm’s fingers. The healing was coming along nicely.

“Exactly that.” He confessed before stretching, “I’ll let you go…But ah, feel free to save this number. It’s my private number…so you won’t have to fear Joan on the other end.” He joked, chuckling down the receiver.

You felt your cheeks go warm, “You can save mine too, methods of how it was obtained aside.” You teased as you closed your drawers.

“I promise it was simply to…”

“Calm down, Toshi, I was just teasing. I’ll let you get back to work, Mister All Might.” The phone was hot in your hand as you took it from your shoulder, “I’ll see you Saturday, Yagi.”

“See you then.” Yagi replied softly before the line went dead.

 The silence was heavy against your ear. You took the phone away from your ear and looked at the blank screen for a moment before smiling and going back to your chores. He was adorable, and now you had his private number. You opened your phone and saved the number as Yagi with a small sunflower. It suited him, you thought as you moved back into the kitchen to think about fixing yourself some lunch.

 The scheduled day came a lot quicker than you thought it would. It seemed to pass quickly between your hand exercises and binge watching of the very bad hero reality show. That morning you were say lamenting the wardrobe options you had down the phone to a long time friend. They only laughed at you and your frustration.

“Its not like it’s a date!” They exclaimed.

You deflated against the sheets, playing with a pulled thread of cotton, “Well...I guess not. But I still want to impress!”

“Who is this guy anyway? He’s sure got you worked up!”

Your mouth went dry before you managed to lace together a response, “Just a guy I met in the park one time. He asked me about the fountain...” It was almost painfully obvious.

“That’s cute! Hey if it goes well you should invite him out drinking with us...”

“I don’t think that’s his sort of thing. He’s really busy too.” You chuckled before turning the conversation, “Anyway, I have to get ready! Talk to you later. Yep. Bye!”

 You hid your face in your hands, looking at the casual shirt and jeans. It would do and a small part of you hoped that All Might would like it too. Hopefully he wouldn’t turn up in anything too fancy.

 The train ride over to the Meguro district wasn’t too long, nor was the small walk from the station around into the older areas, set a little way back from the river. The area was set with rows of houses and a couple of stores. The tea shop was set back between them, the shop a converted small home from some years ago. The sign was hand painted over the door and you smiled as it came into view. The lady must have had her son repaint it recently. The white paint was fresh and not curling on the edges, like it was when you last came. It appeared better off now. You smiled and tugged st the bottom of your jacket as you came to the front of the picket fence around the front garden. The water fountain trickled softly as you peered around, looking for All Might's unmistakable, hulking frame. He wasn’t anywhere in sight. You checked your phone. No texts or calls. Still, you were five minutes early. You leaned against the fence and chewed your lip, wondering if it would be rude to call him and check you were still on.

 You finger itched over the symbol. Pushing it you held the phone to your ear. A sharp, annoying ring tone sounded with the first ring. You jumped and whipped around to peer down the small alley next to the tea shop. The very dumb ring tone screeched from inside the alley followed by a soft curse before a large hand held a phone just around the brick wall before disappearing into a blue hood.

“Hello?”

“Yagi are you hidden behind a wall right now?” You asked with a smirk, watching the man jump in the alley as Yagi peered around the brick, blue eyes narrowed, and eyebrows furrowed.

“I might be.” He confessed, his face devolving into a look of embarrassment.

“Look by the fence, you dork.” You laughed and hung up as his eyes caught sight of you. He pushed his phone into his pocket before walking out from the alleyway, huge form disguised in civilian clothing.

 The bright blue sweater was printed with a white lettering, the love heart large and read, and you snickered at the lovely New York souvenir as he tucked his huge hands inside the pocket and pushed his flying bangs of hair back into the hood. He was dressed in a crisp pair of jeans and sneakers. It was an off look for the hero you were so used to seeing flying around with a cape and skintight looking spandex. He smiled as you laughed at him.

“I know, but I couldn’t show up in my costume, could I?!” Yagi sighed as his hair pinged out of the top of the hood again, his hand coming back up to smooth it away.

“I’m not poking fun, I promise.” You laughed again as you moved away from him to open the gate that lead to the tiny tea shop, “I never thought if you’d be able to fit through the door!” You teased again, watching Yagi turn a soft shade of pink.

“I’m sure I can manage...so long as they have some large seats.”

 The tiny bell over the door rang as you both entered the shop. All Might stop to enter, his frame filling the doorway as he walked in behind you, hair popping out of the top of his hood once more. He reached to flatten them as the lady who ran the tea shop turned from her little TV screen to look at who had entered. She moved her glasses on her face and hummed, bowing her head before standing up to greet you.

“Welcome. Please, sit...Ah. Perhaps the large quirk table?” She uttered before beckoning the both of you to follow. Yagi raised an eyebrow, smiling as he tucked his hair away again. You followed her to the back area, set in a high ceiling conservatory, filled with furniture more suited to individuals with large and burdening quirks.

The hero peered around before frowning, “I did not expect chairs...”

The owner was old, but her hearing was good, “I prefer not to clean the floor constantly from spilt tea. I have a number of clients as large as you who would leave my floors a mess if I used Chabudai, young man.” She laughed before patting the large chair, pulling it out for him as you seated yourself with a teasing smile, “Now. What would you both like?” The woman tucked her hands into her apron pocket to collect a little order notebook.

 “What do you suggest for relaxing?” You asked, sitting back as you took off your small jacket, “I think we both need something to help us unwind a little. Its been a stressful week or so.” You flexed your arm and wiggled the fingers of your recently freed arm.

She looked to Toshinori, “I agree with her. What do you suggest, Miss.”

Thoughtfully she tapped her pencil on the page before nodding to herself, “Lavender and Chamomile. A green tea could be good just for a sense of normality, but I would suggest Chamomile if you need the relaxant?”

“That sounds lovely, thank you.” Yagi nodded and watched the woman scuttle away with a confused face.

 “Does she not recognise me?” He looked stressed by the fact, hiding his hair in his hood as he watched the woman disappear to the stove and backroom.

You shrugged, “Maybe she’s just being polite? I’m pretty sure you’re unmistakable, which is why I’m glad no one is here to…uh…disturb us?” Finger quote motions made Yagi chuckle. Reluctantly, he reached up to pull down his hood, his blond, gravity defying bangs popping free like springs to wave over the top of his head.

“Disturb us?” He joked before settling into his own chair, “I hope she doesn’t ring someone.” He chewed his cheek before sighing, “Let’s not think about that!” A bright smile curled on his lips, remind you of the sunshine and bright sunflowers you thought of last time, “I see that your arm isn’t in a cast anymore.”

You nodded, rubbing at the arm gently with the thought, “The healing quirk really sped things up. There’s a lot of repair still. I have some exercises to do to strengthen the muscles again, but all being well I can get back to work soon enough!”

All Might laughed, a bright noise, genuine and loud, “I’m glad! Hopefully you can get back to normal, even after everything that has happened?”

 It was a little bit of a sore subject and you felt your face tighten, “Hopefully. It…was a lot to process I think.” You tried to smile back at him. A warm hand reached over the table, All Might’s giant form stooping as he held out a palm for you.

“You can talk to me about it, if it helps?” He offered gently.

You gave him a smile, “Thank you, honestly, but I’ll be okay. I still have the number for the therapist.” He relented with the promise, and left you alone for now, taking his hand back slowly. You took it and squeezed the rough palm, “But thank you for worrying. It means a lot, especially coming from you.”

Yagi felt his face go a little hot, “I told you, I’m just doing my job.”

“Sure.” You drew out the syllables, “Just doing your job, huh? By having tea with me secretly?”

The hero spluttered over the other end of the table which only made you laugh at his expense.

“It’s a friendly outing!” He insisted, tugging at the ties of his hood.

“Whatever lets you sleep at night, All Might.” The teasing was about to be rebuked until the owner pottered back into the conservatory, tray in hand with scalding tea on top of it.

 Yagi coughed behind his fist his ears burning red with an embarrassed blush as the old lady placed the large tea pot onto the table. The cups were painted with cherry blossoms. You watched as she moved to pour the tea into the two cups, hands sturdy despite her frail age. After pouring them, she bowed her head and left, winking conspiratorially as she left the two of you to your own devices in the back. Her television sounded again in the front as she settled back in to wait for other customers. All Might shifted in his seat, the chair groaning underneath his muscled weight as he reached for his tea and took a sip of the burning hot liquid. His face scrunched up with the hot liquid in his mouth, his lips bright red as he realised his mistake.

“It’s still too hot, Yagi.” You teased.

The hero put his hands over his mouth, “I realise.” He mumbled through his fingers, “Now that I have scalded my tongue.”

“Aw does it hurt.” You cooed over the tea, standing up to walk around the table and look at Yagi’s burned lips. The skin on his bottom lip was raw and red, “It looks pretty bad.” You muttered, dragging your seat over to his side.

“It is fine, honestly, I have dealt with far, far worse.” Yagi flinched away from your fingers.

 “Yagi.” You pinched his chin, holding him still, stopping his protesting. The man’s cheeks turned as red as his ears, “Hold still, okay?”

“This is entirely unnecessary.” Yagi mumbled as you held up your hand. His blue eyes went wide as you turned your fingers into water. They wiggled in front of his eyes, the water dripping and reforming in the shape of fingers before you placed them against his scalded skin. The cold water made him jump, his lips parting only to realise he would end up with a mouthful of your fingers. The pro-hero held still, watching you ease the pain in his lips with a gentle press.

“It won’t heal it, but it’ll take the pain away.” You promised softly as you held Yagi’s chin in your other hand. His cheeks twitched, his hand coming up to touch your arm. You took away your fingers and smiled.

“Thank you. It’s fine now, I promise.” He grinned with white teeth, taking your hands in his own, looking at your watery fingers, “Your quirk is amazing. I hope you know that.” The man took hold of his tea once more, “But be careful about using it…The laws are not so kind in this country.”

 It was a warning, yet you smiled, “I’m sure I wont get into trouble for cooling down our new favourite hero’s lips.”

“But in an emergency…” He babbled before sighing, “You should drink your tea.” He muttered, face still painted pink with embarrassment, “It’s delicious.”

You scooted your chair close enough to the table to reach your drink, taking a careful sip from the cooling tea before humming, “It is delicious.” You confirmed before smiling and laughing. Yagi sighed before joining in with his own great cascade of laughter.

“One day I will learn to think before I do things. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Toshi.”

 Yagi felt his heart do flip flops for most of the time you both spent together. Sipping tea and just chatting normally with someone was so far from what he knew anymore. A person who invited him for lunch usually wanted to get in his pants or have him sign some form of advertisement contract. It was tiring yet he found himself refreshed talking to someone normal. You laughed at his terrible jokes and you talked about animals and pets. It was perfectly normal. Serene. The hero felt his stomach clench as his heart throbbed.

“I will pay.” Yagi pushed your hand with your wallet away, “It was only tea.” He smiled, blond hair waving over the top of his head as he pushed the money towards the old woman, “Keep the change. Thank you for the lovely tea.” He bowed at the waist as she took the payment.

“Thank you, young man.” She hummed as she placed the money away in her register, “Might I say you look an awful lot like that new hero. I bet it gets you all the ladies.” She cackled as Yagi’s jaw dropped.

“Ah, yes, of course. He is inspirational. I…uh…”

“A stunner, yes. Quite the looker I’ve caught myself.” You teased as Yagi spluttered over the counter.

 You parted ways with blushes that day. It wasn’t until you got home that your phone buzzed with a message, the small sunflower emoji making you smile as you opened his text message.

‘I think we should meet again next Saturday? If you would like to?’

You smiled as you sent him a reply.

‘I would love to.’

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Beauty Within the Fallen ch.III

Summary: Two misfit twins come across an enchanted castle, home of a mysterious beast, and slowly begin to form a strong bond that just might survive through anything. Even evil demons.

AU and artwork belong to the beautiful and very talented @artsycrapfromsai​. Go give her some love, guys!!!

ch.II - ch.IV

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello? Monsieur Soos? Monsieur Stan told us to find you.” Mabel called out nicely on the stairs. Dipper watched as his sister optimistically roamed the stairs for the keeper of the key and grounds of the castle. There were so many times he wished he was more like her. Mabel was super strong and kind and just outright amazing; no matter what the world threw at her, she was happy and cheerful. Through losing their parents and then their Grandpa Shermie, through being lost in the woods and nearly eaten, through meeting a beast, Mabel was still joyful and out-going. Dipper wished he could be more like that, but sometimes it felt like a dark cloud forever hung over his head; he was the realistic twin, the Debby-downer of the two; someone had to be, and he never wanted it to be Mabel. “Maybe we misheard him.” Mabel pondered when no one was responding to her calls. “Did Monsieur Stan say Soos or Zeus?”

Dipper shrugged. “Or maybe we were sent on a wild goose chase.” “Eck! A goose?!” Mabel gasped with sparkling eyes. “Sup, dawgs!” A voice called from the top of the second flight of stairs. “I’m Soos! Sorry, just wanted to make sure your room was clean. So dusty… anyways, welcome!” Dipper and Mabel peered to where the voice was coming from and saw a hammer standing up on it’s handle. It was smiling with long buck teeth and kind eyes. Split from the handle, like big splinters, were the arms, but it had no legs. Mabel smiled while Dipper just stared. “Hi! I’m Mabel! So you’re Soos?” “Sure am!” The hammer gestured to follow him. “C’mon, dudes, I’ll show you to your room.” Mabel followed with Dipper right behind her. Past expensive, dusty objects and paintings, the hammer led them to another set of double-doors. The hammer pushed them open and the kids awed at the living quarters. Beautiful twin-sized bunk beds stood proudly with the finest silks and pillows stuffed with feathers. A giant window with a balcony displayed the calm fall rain and a huge chest filled with toys and a wardrobe occupied the room, but the space was so vast that it somehow felt empty. The walls were painted gold with knights and kings and glorious battles telling stories on the ceiling. Mabel squealed with delight and ran to the bottom bed and plopped down. “Wowie, zowie! Is this all ours?” “Sure is, dude.” Soos said. “The boss wanted you kids to be safe and comfortable.” “You mean that big scary beast downstairs?” Dipper asked. “That’s the one!” Dipper couldn’t keep his smile at bay any longer. “I have always wanted bunk beds.” “I think he’s nice.” Mabel said from the bottom bunk. “Oh, the dude’s a nice guy.” Soos insisted. “Once you get to know him. He saved me and Abuelita from the streets a long time ago, gave us jobs and a home.” A cart came in, carrying a beautiful china pot that smiled at the guests. “Welcome!” She said with an Asian accent. “My name is Candy. So good to have company with us. Dinner will be ready shortly. Oh, no! You two look cold. Grenda! Grenda, wake up!” She barked. The wardrobe burst open and the eyes on top of the piece of furniture popped open. “I’m up, I’m up! SWEET LORD! Finally, new muses! You two need some new clothes!” Grenda opened her drawers, but moths flew out and she closed up immediately. “Oops. That’s… that happens sometimes.” Grenda opened her drawers again and whistled. “Okay, ladies, let's get to work, up, up, up!” Sewing needles, measuring tape, and thread sprang up from a drawer and began to work, pulling rolls of cloth out from the other drawers and sewing around the twins as they stood still. Mabel giggled and lightly touched the needles in greeting, treating them like butterflies, while Dipper stood rigid and still, afraid of being hurt. “Aw, don’t be so tense, boy.” Grenda giggled. “You like blue?” Dipper took in a deep breath, trying to relax, and he smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I like blue.” Soon the kids were changed into nicer clothes; not formal, but not made from itchy material and much more comfortable than their soak garments. Mabel twirled in her pink petticoat and jacket with golden buttons and she grinned at her brother, who wore a navy-blue jacket over an orange top. He kept his blue cap on proudly and he seemed comfortable. “Tuck your shirt in, scruffy.” The mirror on the wall spoke, spooking the kids. “Be nice, Pacifica.” Candy warned. Dipper had a million questions. He looked at Soos the hammer, Candy the teapot, Pacifica the mirror, and Grenda the wardrobe, and said quietly, “This is impossible. Objects can’t talk or move on their own.” Grenda shrugged, her golden arms free from being folded on top of a drawer. “Well, here we are.” “Abuelita used to say the world’s more full of magic than we know, dudes.” Soos said. “You’re magic?!” Mabel gasped happily, squishing her cheeks with her hands as her eyes shined like stars. “Duh,” Pacifica said as a reflection of her human form shined on the mirror, a pretty girl with long blonde hair. “This castle’s full of weird secrets and magic and mystery and whatever.” “We LOVE mystery, don’t we, Dipper?” Mabel asked, gripping his hand. “This guy is really good at solving them! He figured out who was stealing Manly Dan’s jerky.” “Everyone wanted to blame it on the kids, but no one with a shoe size of five could have made such a deep footprint in the mud unless they were heavier than an adolescent.” Dipper explained and shrugged with a sheepish smile. “And Mabel’s really smart, too. She discovered who was eating all our garbage and leaving smelly trails.” “All signs pointed to the goat.” Mabel said, puffing her chest out proudly. “Then you’ll fit right in, dudes!” Soos exclaimed excitedly. A harsh cough came from the door and an axe hopped in, with a beautiful girl carved into the handle. She dipped the heavy head of the axe and said, “Dinner’s ready.” The kids thanked the axe, at this point used to inanimate objects suddenly being animate, and left for the dining hall. Wendy gave Soos, Candy, Grenda, and Pacifica death glares and followed them out. Pacifica scoffed and her reflection faded away. Soos felt his face turn warm as he hopped on the cart and caught a ride with Candy; Grenda fell back asleep. Mabel and Dipper followed the axe into the dining hall and admired the scene before them. A huge table that could fit thirty stood polish with mahogany, filled with bread water, the best china and dishes the kids had ever dreamed of, and silverware made out of real silver. The axe hopped in front of them and said, “Alright, guys, my name’s Wendy. Basically I’m in charge when the boss isn’t here, and since he’s not here, I’m in charge right now. Follow me?” The kids nodded; Dipper really didn’t want to argue with an axe, in case if turned into an axe-murderer. They sat next to each other at the right hand of the head of the table, where the host would normally sit. Mabel laid her napkin on her lap and Dipper waited for something to happen. Just as Mabel opened her mouth to talk to Wendy, the axe hopped away and Candy the teapot hopped at the center of the table, a surprise spotlight on her. “Lady and gentleman! It is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you here tonight! Now, we invite you to relax and get comfortable, as the dining room proudly presents: your dinner.” And magical dishes and trays filled with food hopped out from the kitchen and onto the table. Mabel leaned forward, elbows on the table and chin resting on her knuckles, while Dipper smiled unsure of what to make of this, but enjoying it nonetheless. “Be our guest…” ~~~~~~~~~~ Stan paced on all fours back and forth, his mind racing. He occasionally spoke, trying to think better by thinking out loud, but there was just so much to tackle at once. Stan stood on his back legs and his eyes rested on the journal. Decorated with a golden six-fingered hand, the journal was safe inside a glass case, never allowed to be touched. Still, it was so tempting, but too risky. That book was fragile and Stan was dangerous. The beast growled in his throat and resumed his pacing. What was he thinking, letting those kids stay here, allowing Soos to open the door, even meeting the kids. He should have stayed hidden and let them leave. But he couldn’t just let those kids go out into the woods and die; not even a monster like himself would do that. But Stan needed confirmation that he had made the right choice. Once again his gaze fell on the journal. He ceased his pacing again and stared at the journal. He sighed through his nose and approached it. He slowly, carefully, sat on the floor before the small table that occupied the book, staring at it, lost in thoughts and memories. A few minutes later, Stan found his claw on the glass cover, yearning to touch the journal, but he dared not to. Not yet. Not right now. It was too risky. A page fell out a few days ago. But then his cruel mind made him remember his brother’s pleading words. Stanley, I’m fine. You know I’m still here, right? I’m not just some book you can place on a shelf and walk away. Stanley, I can’t breathe in here. It’s maddening. I am not afraid of you. Stan tenderly lifted the glass case from over the journal and placed it on the ground. His gentle paws, the beast picked up the book and opened it. He smiled tiredly at a blank page. “Hey, Sixer.” Hello, Stanley. A knock came at the door, the one at the entrance of the West Wing; Stan’s advanced hearing could pick it up. He quickly shut the journal, put it on the table, and protected it with the glass cover. “What?” He called when he went to the door, but he didn’t open it. “Hi, Monsieur Stan!” A girl’s voice called. What did she say her name was? Maple? “Are you gonna come down to dinner? Madame Wendy said you didn’t want to. Are you okay? Does your tummy hurt?” Stan raised an eyebrow at the door. “Mabel, leave him alone.” The boy said. “He’ll come when he wants to.” “But Dipper, he should eat.” Stan had thought of hunting for a deer after the little pains in his side went to bed so he wouldn’t scare them or bother them when they were trying to recover and eat. He was surprised and apprehensive when they seemed to not only expect but desire his attendance. “You want to eat dinner with freak-show over here?” He asked suspiciously, not believing it. “Sure! Why not?” The girl called. Her name was Mabel, Stan recalled. “I don’t think you want that.” He warned. “What?! I totally want that! It’ll be fun, now come on! There’s delicious gray stuff!” She added, hoping it would tempt her host to join them for dinner. Stan snorted. He opened the door and looked down at the tiny humans. One could stand on the other’s shoulders and they wouldn’t reach his height. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” “Yay!” Mabel punched the air and laughed at Dipper’s face. “Hah! I win, sucka!” Dipper punched her shoulder and they started back to the dining hall. Stan followed them, giving them plenty of space. When they sat to eat, Mabel and Dipper chatted among themselves about how they loved the musical performance the servants had given. Mabel was careful to thank every single object individually, while Dipper settled for thanking them as a combined team. Stan smiled teasingly at the foolish kids, gushing over a stupid show. “Monsieur Stan, are you sure you’re not sick?” Mabel asked gently over her goblet of water. Stan gave her a skeptical look, expecting a jab at his monstrous appearance. “I’m fine, kid.” He growled. Mabel blinked, unsure as to why he was so stoic and strict. “Really? You’re not eating. Do you not like it?” Dipper also noticed it, privately predicting that the beast would tear into his meal, but he had not even touched his meat or picked up his drink. “Had a big lunch pretty late in the day.” Stan said, waving the question away. “Now quit pestering me about it!” “Oh. Okay. By the way, you never answered my questions.” “Huh?” “What’s your favorite color? Do you have a sweet tooth? Do you like sweet or sour things? Do you have a favorite song?” Mabel asked all in one breath, so quickly that it took the host a minute to gather his answers. “Oh. Um… red, yes, sweet, and no.” Mabel grinned, excited to elaborate on Stan’s answers, and she and Stan gradually had a conversation. It was an odd conversation, with Mabel doing most of the talking and the two knowing so little about the other and having next to nothing in common that it might have been tricky to talk pleasantly, but soon Stan found himself flapping up water with his scratchy tongue as he listened to the girl’s twenty-first story. Mabel smiled and covered her mouth with her hand at the sight, finding it endearing. Dipper would occasionally inject and join in, but mostly he observed. Stan hadn’t realized how quiet the castle had become until it was filled with noise. A grandfather clock out in the hall screamed, “NINE O’CLOCK!”, making Dipper jump and splash water on his face, and Mabel laughed at the little scare. “Right, time for bed, gremlins.” Stan said and pointed to the door. “You’ve got your work cut out for you in the morning. No more softening you up. I want you wide-eyed and bushy-tailed by sunrise.” “But, we don’t have tails.” Dipper sneered with a smile. “Not my problem, runt, now go before you get nightmares from looking at this face for too long.” Mabel didn’t like that last comment, but she decided to let it pass. “G’night, Monsieur Stan!” She said cheerfully and waved to him as she walked out of the dining hall with Dipper right beside her. When the door was closed behind them, Stan sighed with relief; he was starving. Acting on instinct alone, he tore into his food like an animal and spewed it all over his face and clothes. He later huffed in shame and humiliation, and with as much pride as he could muster, he left the table and ventured to bed. Meanwhile, Mabel slipped on her white nightgown and climbed up to the top bunk bed; Dipper had a habit of falling out of bed already, he didn’t need to be six feet up. She snuggled under the cozy covers and was pleasantly surprised to find warm pans between the blankets. “I like it here.” Mabel said sleepily, rubbing an eye. “It’s like we’re in a story of our own.” Dipper smiled up at the bottom of Mabel’s bed, his head resting on his folded arms. “Yeah… I guess so.” There was a long pause. Despite Mabel’s optimism and cheerful attitude, now that there was nothing to distract her, a sudden worry made a knot in her stomach. “Dipper? Do you really think Fiddleford is okay?” Dipper took too long to answer for her sister's comfort, but when he spoke she felt much better. “He’s fought in two wars, survived crazy invention-attacks, and raised you. He can handle anything.” Mabel giggled at the jab he made at her and said, “More like he survived raising you, Dumb-Dumb.” Dipper chuckled, “Goodnight, Stupid.” “G’night, Stupid.” Dipper blew out the candle, but it would be a long time before Mabel finally closed her eyes and fell asleep. ~~~~~~~~~~ The rain had finally stopped, but the cold was even worse now. Even so, it could not he felt inside Gleeful’s Glee-Filled Tavern, where hard-working men and women were relaxing in the comfort of fires and warm beer. Gideon had just finished a musical number that left the policemen crying with happiness and the other girls cheering. His mother shakingly filled drinks and his father collected some money for the performance by the piano. Gideon sat on the instrument to be eye-level with Ghost Eyes. He sighed tiredly. “I don’t understand it, my hench-angel. Why won’t Mabel admit that she loves me?” “Maybe because she doesn’t?” Ghost Eyes suggested into his beer. “I bet it’s cuz she keeps herself so busy.” Gideon speculated. “Think about it, with only old Man McGucket taking care of things she and Dipper have to… wait. What if she’s afraid to love me?” The white-haired boy gasped. “Wait, what?” “It all makes sense now!” Gideon proclaimed. “She’s lost almost all of her family! For someone so young, she’s lost so much! What if she’s afraid to only gain something to lose?! What if she’s afraid one day I’ll be gone, too?!” Gideon stood up proudly on the piano, with his fists on his hips. “Well, I swear by all this is holy and unholy that that will never happen! I will always be there for her, no matter what!” “YEAH!” Ghost Eyes cheered and had the boy sit on his muscular shoulder. “We love you, Lil’ Gideon!” Durland yelled. “Sing more of those funny songs!” “You got it! Ahem, ahem… nooooo oooooone…” The doors burst open, letting in some cold air, as Old Man McGucket came running in. the townsfolk gasped at him. He was dirty and his hair was frazzled and his glasses were cracked, but worst of all his arm was bruised and cradled by his chest protectively, as if it was broken. This man had obviously been through something horrible, his eyes wide and his jaw tight. “HELP!” He cried out. “HELP ME, PLEASE!” “McGucket, what happened?” Blubs asked. “It’s the children!” Old Man McGucket yelled and scrambled around the tavern, informing all of the tragedy. “We were attacked by wolves out in the woods n’ separated! They’re out there somewhere, lost n’ cold n’ possibly hurt! Please! We have t’find ‘em!” The townsfolk muttered among themselves. It was dangerous in those woods, filled with wolves and horrible animals. They were unsure if the children were alive. What was the point of risking their lives for dead bodies, especially the dead bodies of the troublesome Pines twins. “Aren’t these the same kids that built that wretched sound box?” Old Man McGucket paled a shade. “Y-Yes, b-b-but they were only tryin’...” “And are always reading? What’s that boy doing, teaching a girl to read? It’s unnatural.” “It’s beautiful!” Old Man McGucket snapped. “Dipper’s only tryin’ t’help his sister…” “I thought his name was Mason…” “It’s Dipper!” Old Man McGucket’s energy was failing him as he appeared alone in the world. “I… I know they seem different, but… but, please. They’re still only children. My children. Will no one help me find ‘em?” Gideon leaned towards Ghost Eyes’ ear and whispered excitedly, “This is perfect! Mabel needs my help; she’ll see how I’m willing to do anything for her and she’ll finally realize she loves me!” Gideon stood on Ghost Eyes’ shoulder and declared, “I’ll help!” Old Man McGucket turned and stared at the boy. “Ya will?” “Sure I will!” Gideon said and hopped off to walk on a long table. “Folks, I know we’ve had our fair share of whoopsie-daisies in the past, but Mabel and Dipper are still part of our fair town. They need our help, so I say no one should rest until they’re safe at home!” “YEAH!” Manly Dan yelled and punched a whole in the stone wall. “Let’s find the Pines!” Blubs said and the whole town cheered for Lil’ Gideon. Old Man McGucket approached the boy shakingly and smiled. “Th-Thanks ya so much. Ya’ve always been a… a loyal friend t’em.” “Don’t thank me yet.” Gideon said with a smile. “Let’s just get my queen and future brother-in-law back.” And he went off to gather the volunteers. Fiddleford watched the boy leave and he winced. “Aw, banjo polish.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note: I know it seems like I’m a hater of BatB songs since only one is in here, two songs are not from BatB at all, and I teased two BatB songs in this chapter but never delivered, but I promise that more are on the way (or at least obscure gestures to the songs since this isn’t a musical).

I will share that I ALMOST opened the entire story with a Hercules-like intro, with Dipper and Mabel destroying the town with an invention and being rejected by the village, making the scene of Fiddleford trying to convince people to help look for them more compelling, but I backed away since I couldn’t think of a good destructive invention that could be built by two twelve-year-olds in the early 1800s. I’d love to hear some of your ideas, guys!

Pacifica is kinda a reference to the Magic Mirror from Snow White, and while Lazy Susan would’ve made a great Mrs. Potts, I decided to make Candy head of the kitchen and the tea pot and have Lazy Susan be a friend of Fiddleford and Shermie’s and give hand in raising Dipper and Mabel sometimes, one of the few people in town that actually liked them. I will warn you that this story does not focus much on the side characters, rather the development of the main characters.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope y’all enjoy it!

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 36

“Nooooo, I don't want to get out in the cold anymore, let's stay here forever” she whined as Jared got up and held open her coat for her, “ok, stay here where it's busy and crowded, or sacrifice half an hour and walk ourselves warm to end up in our cosy, warm room with comfortable couches and a ridiculously warm and soft bed?”. Harper rolled her eyes “You don't play fair” she sighed, “all is fair in love and war” he grinned and grabbed her hand as he guided her out of the coffeeshop where the icecold and windy street greeted them. “So, going home..that's quite a big deal, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” he put his arm around her shoulder and held her tight to his side walking down the street, “yep..it's not that I want to, but I need to know..I need to know why they hate me so much..why they always treated me differently than my siblings” she sighed deeply, her warm breath mixing with the cold air formed a foggy cloud “it's not gonna be your average 'meet the parents' moment, I can tell you that much”. The despair in her voice was almost unbearable “I think it's real brave what you're doing” he squeezed her shoulder “so any tips on what aristocratic families do these days? Maybe I should get into golfing or cricket or something? I want to blend in because I don't think your parents will be expecting some long haired musician/actor as their son-in-law”. Her hiccuping burst of laughter wrapped a warm blanket around his heart “son-in-law? Uhm no, my parents certainly won't be expecting that, ohh wait, maybe we should tell them we're married, they'll go ballistic!” she kept on giggling. “And you? What do you think about marriage?” he blurted out, he needed to know, Harper stopped in her tracks all serious of a sudden “Marriage? Nothing but heartache and misery, I swore to myself a long time ago that I'll never be nobody's wife, I've never felt the need to be ayone's possession which is basically the definition of marriage, isn't it?”. 

Jared didn't know whether to hug her or be dissappointed, he'd never given marriage any thought but hearing her say the word, triggered something hidden deep inside of him, what would it be like to grow old with her? it definitely wouldn't be boring, on the contrary, it would be adventurous and very rock 'n roll, he could actually see his unborn children in her eyes, really beautiful kids if they looked like their mama. “Yeah, I guess it is..do you make any distinction though between marital possession and sexual possession?” he pulled her against his body with a very dirty grin, “now you're talking! I'll always submit to such an exquisitely skilled lover of your caliber, although I think you're holding back where I'm concerned, I think there's so much further you want to go where sex is concerned, don't you? Let's say that I'm convinced you're into something a whole lot more kinky than just spanking my ass” she wiggled her eyebrows. Why not push all my fuckin' buttons at once, you little minx? Dingdingdingding! “oh really? You're convinced, huh? Well, that's for me to know and for you to find out, so if I were you, I would get that sexy ass to our bedroom RIGHT NOW!” those last shouted words made her giggle “ohhhh goodieeee” she clapped her hands in delight, wasn't she just amazing? A girl that was so excited and looked forward so much to getting thrown and pushed around a room and a bed was an absolute keeper, his heart beat so hard in his throat and his groin ached behind the zipper of his trousers seeing her giggle and skip away from him, he quickly caught up with her breaking down in a fit of laughter when he saw her lose her balance on another strip of ice.

'Bang' went their erotic bubble the minute they set foot inside the hotel, “there you are! We've got a million interviews lined up, you should be glad someone around here remembers the PR” Shannon came stomping over to them. Harper hung her chin against her chest, she just couldn't get a break around here, could she? All she wanted was to get some much needed lovin' from her man, who had kept his distance last night too, bleeegghhhhhh, what did a girl have to do round here to get fucked senseless??. “Sorry, I have..” he scrunched up his nose, feeling absolutely guilty as he cupped her face, “it's ok..you have a job to do, I understand” she tried not to pout, “I'd love it if you came along” he tried to twist her arm. “You kiddin? Get out into that cold again? nope, na-ah, no sir, no way” she shook her head trying to keep it light and funny between them, “alright, why don't you go warm up the bed then, be back late afternoon, we'll have some time together before the show” he whispered. “I don't want to be a wet blanket, but..” Shannon moved closer trying to get their attention, Harper took a step back and mouthed a silent 'go, it's ok', “alright, alright, ok, lead the way Mr. PR-man” he growled at his brother as he reluctantly turned on his heels and followed Shannon out with a sigh, signing to her to keep in touch during his absence. Ok..what to do? More coffee? Ugh no, her blood pressure was through the roof more than enough already, go to a museum? Nope..out of the question she went out into that cold again, then what? Read a book! Yessss, perfect idea, she hadn't read ever since she got to Europe, Jared and her job here had absorbed most of her free time, curl up under the covers and get lost into another world, she asked her key and almost ran to the elevator.

Oh those dreadful interviews with their copy/paste questions, he hated how he had always thrown up a wall around his personal life in the past, because right now he wanted nothing more than just talk about her, then he wouldn't miss her as much, hold it, hold it, hold it, take a step back, you are not turning into one of those ugly codependent couples you hate so much! You are so not! Fuck it, yes I am, ok ignore and focus back on the question and the interviewer, hope it's better than those ugly glasses she's wearing. 'Beep', no, focus on the question, before they think you're an absolute asshole, oh sod it they already think that anyway, he dug his phone out of his pocket and kicked Shannon's leg to answer the next question, he had a mail to read and that was far more important right now.

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: shock!

Jaylicious,

' A leg went over and she positioned herself, ligned up his dick with her entrance and slowly, ever so slowly she pushed down and impaled herself with a loud, blissful moan'

Uhm, what the fuck is this? So, I went online to get inspired for my next painting and I bumped on some real cool stuff on this site called 'Tumblr' and what do you know? I get these suggestions to also check some extra cool dude called Jared Leto, curious as I am, I check and..well, well, these girls are writing the hottest stuff with you in a very kinky main role. Are they ex- or current groupies of yours? Because they all seem to write from reality..and there's so many out there, I'm flooded by an exuberant amount of smut. Oh and then there was all these threads about what a jerk you are in bed too, they're calling you all sorts of horrible names..what is that all about? that sounded a whole lot more real from real groupies.

My eyes hurt from reading way too much stuff about you, why did I ever decide to get online?

Confused Coco

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re: shock!

Babe,

Get offline, now! So you went 'there' huh? How do you think I feel reading all those stories about myself and their fantasies about my sex life..they make me look like some kind of pornstar in those fics, but they're 'just' fans ('just' is an ugly word, but they're my meal ticket, you know what I mean) I swear I've never touched or met any of them in real life, they're just stories, those stories on Tumblr come from the imagination of some very dirty minds :). That other stuff you're mentioning is a site full of slander I tried to shut down, but no matter how hard I try, those trolls just keep on popping up and haunting me, don't believe what's being said, please! Yes some of those things happened a long, long time ago, but never the way what they're saying, it's difficult to explain..

All you have to know is that I love you veryveryveryvery much, ok? You're the only one that matters!

Don't go running off again, just wait for me and we'll talk, all through the night if that is what it takes to believe me!

Your 'Jaylicious' (I like it, you're so original, where do you come up with these nicknames?)

WHAT??? slander?? but it actually happened? Of course it happened, what did he think she was? Retarded? Did he ever see that interview with Howard Stern she had just seen for the first time, where some sleazy pornstar talked about Jared's 'monster' that obviously had given her as much pleasure as it gave her? Of course he had, and he expected her to get offline the minute she found more info about his past in half an hour than she had gotten out of him in weeks? Put the phone down, just put it down and grab your book, relax, of course he had a past, she had one too, and she knew that he was no choirboy, that much had been obvious during each sexmarathon they had so far, but then why did she feel a little dirty right now? Don't be a hypocrite, come on, ok book, where was I? She browsed for a few seconds but then threw the book back on the nightstand, ok not able to focus, fine, TV then, she flicked through the channels like a maniac, ooohh some more 'Catfish' reruns then. 'Beep' the screen of her phone lit up, and she quickly grabbed it thinking it was Jared, 'Happy now? You destroyed everything, after everything I did for you, is this how you repay me? I'll never forgive you for this, I'm on my way to New York right now and I swear I'll have you and all your godawful paintings evicted in no time, so you won't have a 'home' to come back to'. Harper sat up in shock gasping for air, Sean..oh god no, her fingers trembled as she pressed down on his name and held the phone to her ear, pick up..voicemail, fuck! Text him back 'Sean, no I'm not happy, how can I be happy when the person I thought was my best friend tried to kill me, just because he feels rejected!? Have me evicted, fine by me, but don't touch my paintings, please, I'll beg if needs be, but please don't destroy them, they mean more to me than anything or anyone in this world, please Sean?' there, sent, with an aching heart and close to tears, for fuck's sakes Jay, will you just come back? I need you here, I need someone to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be alright. A tear found its' way down her cheek, followed by a whole lot more and she didn't even try and stop them, her heart nearly burst in her chest, she just wanted to be happy, just to lead a simple, uncomplicated life devoted to painting and creating, but that wasn't gonna happen soon, was it? Oh Jay, please, I need you so much right now..call him? No, he was working and she wasn't ready yet to show him just how silly she was being  at times, he'll be here, just let out all those stupid tears right now so he can hold you later without having to see what a mess she really was, no, no, her sadness was her own and nobody else’s business.

[1soos]

bonne nuit

genre: fluff, smut

type: one shot, photographer!au (though no photos are actually taken??) 

pairing: jungkook x female reader

warnings/things to look for: established relationship, brief mentions of misnaming (misnaming not done by reader or jungkook), hand job, ab play, reverse cowgirl, partially clothed sex, hair pulling (a lot of talk about hair in general), pussy slapping

length: 3.1k

summary: After a long day at work, you come home to relax.

Coming home has always been your favorite part of the day. The deconstruction of your office-self one piece of clothing at a time. The relief of stepping out of your heels right inside the door. The pure ecstasy of peeling a pair of control top pantyhose off your lower half before you even make it to your bedroom, followed quickly by your blouse and camisole, the deep xylophonic clicking of the zipper on the back of your skirt coming undone. Finally, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra to set your breasts free and being able to breathe deeply in a way that you haven’t since early in the morning.

You rub gently at the harsh red, indented lines that temporarily mar your skin from the pantyhose and the bra before finding one of Jungkook’s big white t-shirts to throw on. The neck of this one is so stretched out that it dips down below your collar bones. The peaks of your nipples apparent through the worn-thin fabric that falls down, down, down to just below the curve of your butt.

You slide your red, veiny feet into the absurdly fluffy house slippers that became necessary after starting this new job. The rubber grips on the bottom clack against the hardwood floors, that turns to muffled shuffling across the living room rug, and then back to noisy slaps against the kitchen tile. Jungkook isn’t home and you don’t feel like cooking, so you grab an apple from the bowl on the counter, the jar of peanut butter from the pantry, and a spoon from the utensil drawer and scoot your way to the couch in the living room, plopping down in front of the tv.

You take a bite from the apple and turn on Suits. A little Hyungsik after a long day is just what the doctor ordered.

Jungkook comes home to find you with one of your legs slung over the back of the couch, the other planted on the floor, spoonful of peanut butter in your mouth, and apple core held by the ends loosely in your hand.

“Hey babe,” he chuckles, “long day?” He takes the apple from you and tosses it into the waste basket.

You grunt around the spoon as he plays with your hair. You suck the spoon clean and set it on the coffee table. He tugs gently, and you sit up to make room for him to sit behind you, so he can properly get his hands in there. He twists and tugs, sending tingles of pleasure across your scalp. He gathers all of it in one hand and lifts it, blowing on your neck. If anyone else had their hands in your hair like this, you’d cut them off at the wrist and throw those hands into the river, but Jungkook is different, obviously. He’s the most tactile person you’ve ever dated. He loves touching you and being touched, skin to skin contact and warmth being his favorite. It was a huge change for you, but not necessarily unwelcome. He’d asked if it was all right before he touched any part of you for the first time, and any time after that when appropriate, and every time you were hesitant. However, you’d trusted Jungkook long before you loved him and there was just something about his hands especially when they were on you. They always feel like magic, like he knows exactly what your body needs from him and that’s sexy as hell.

He pulls on little sections at a time, giving you goosebumps down your arms and legs, making you melt back against him. His arms come up around you, enveloping you in warmth, hands resting on your stomach. He’s still in his work clothes, navy slacks and a long-sleeved button down. You fiddle with the buttons on his sleeves until they’re undone, and you can awkwardly cuff them up his forearms. You lazily trace over the exposed veins on his underarms and cherish the feeling of the breath from his comfortable sigh against your neck.

You lightly run your fingernails back and forth across his palm in the way you know he likes before taking it between both of yours and pressing. He groans in your ear at the pressure and you smile to yourself. It feels good to know that you make him feel good.

He slips the hand that isn’t between yours under your shirt, kneading the softness of your stomach. You’d completely forgotten about the show you’d been watching and that shitty guy at work who gets your name wrong on purpose and pretends like it’s “an honest mistake” and the man on the train that stood a little too close and totally leaned in to sniff you and acted like it was your fault when you told him to back off and the men and women who looked on and said nothing because creepy shit has been normalized especially on rush hour trains. All the badness and the discomfort you felt throughout the day blurs and puts itself away because right now you’re with Jungkook. The one person who doesn’t make you want to give up on humanity and go live your best hermit life in the mountains.

“Hey.”

You angle your head back against his shoulder, staring at his jawline and the soft, tanned, acne-scarred skin of his cheeks and wait for him to continue.

“I missed you today.” The words come out awkwardly, but that’s okay. You know it’s hard for him to say things like that, for him to verbalize vulnerable parts of himself even now with your back fitted up against his chest, but he knows you like it. Love it, really. You would even go so far as to say that you need that kind of emotional vulnerability from a partner, specifically Jungkook because you’re in this for the long haul and you hate guessing other people’s feelings when you’re so sure of yours. Your mind flits to the simple gold ring in a simple black box hidden in the back of your night stand waiting for you to decide on the right time to woman up and pop the question.

You stretch the short distance to his neck and press a kiss there. “I missed you, too.”

He smiles, the rounds of his cheek squeezing his eyes almost shut. The affection you feel for him is so sweet it almost makes you sick.

“How was work?” you ask, lips brushing against his neck because you barely moved, happy with the closeness, and thread your fingers through his

“It was okay. The intern called in sick, so I had to take back to back themed baby pictures. And, you know, the babies were great, and the parents were not. Typical stuff. You?”

You sigh. “John misnamed me again in front of the whole office and when I corrected him, again, he tried to gaslight me, but just made himself look like even more of a prick. Typical stuff,” you say, using his phrase. “But Sunmi said I did a good job on the quarterly reports, so there’s that.” Your manager was often the only point of contact at work that made you want to stay and work your way up the company ladder instead of finding work elsewhere and you suspect if she were John’s manager too, you wouldn’t have to constantly deal with his nonsense, or him, at all.

“John’s an asshole who wouldn’t know etiquette if it bit him on the dick.”

You laugh, which you know was his intention, and kiss him again quickly with an exclamatory smack of your lips. “So eloquent.”

He looks down at you. “That’s me.”

“That’s you.”

The kiss he gives you is sweet and slow like syrup. Lips moving firmly against each other lazily in a way that fits the comfortable bubble you’ve made around yourselves. You part your lips and he takes that as an invitation to trace his tongue along the thin, wet skin inside your mouth, dancing along your teeth and playing with your tongue and you let him because he’s so good. Good to you. Good for you. Good in general.

He moves his hand slowly up your torso, touching everywhere except your puckered nipples. This is how he asks, delicately and with his finger tips skating along the valley between your breasts.

You break the kiss, throwing your head back against his shoulder, and roll your butt against the front of his pants. The soft material of your underwear catching on the metal of his button. “Please.” It’s breathy and sensual like the atmosphere demands.

He circles his way around the mound of your breast and rubs at the nipple on top, pinching and rolling it between his thumb and first finger. He slides his other hand from your loose hold and you whine a little bit. You’re feeling soft and melty and you want to hold his hand. He squeezes your fingers and makes his way down to the band of your underwear. He plays with it, dipping under to tickle your soft hairs and back out to lightly snap the band against your sensitive skin.

You squirm, wetness gathering between your folds. “Kookie.”

“It’s okay, babe, I’ve got you.” He hoists you up on his stomach, maneuvering around you to rid himself of his pants and underwear. The way you’re positioned and the precarious balance it requires means you can’t see when he gets his dick out, but from the way he sighs with relief lets you know that he’s at least half hard and knowing that gives you ideas.

You tip to the side and roll off his stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs and you would say sorry, but you’re taking off your underwear and eyeing his cock and trying to figure out the logistics of what you want to do to him, so you figure he’ll forgive you in a minute. You reach up to take off the t-shirt and he stops you.

“I like it on.” He blushes, and you smirk.

“Do you want to keep yours on too?” you ask. He’s already unbuttoning when he shakes his head.

You straddle his stomach when he’s divested of all clothing, ankles trapping his hands against the couch, wetness flush against his abs and you twitch your hips to give yourself a taste of what it’s like to rub against this particular part of his body. The taut bumps and ridges providing a foreign kind of friction that has you grinding trying to find more, every breath he takes teasing you.

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock to keep it up straight and use your other hand to play with the wetness at the head. You move the hand around his shaft and more precome beads out of his slit and he groans, the kind that comes from deep in his chest because you feel the vibrations against your clit and you want to make it happen again and again and again.

You work him over to full hardness until the head is red and shiny and Jungkook’s breath is rapid and shallow.

You run a nail up the sensitive underside and rub tight circles on the frenulum. “Right there, oh my god!” He’s breathless and panting and you love it. Love giving him so much that he starts talking; telling you how good you’re making it for him. You slide sloppily in the wet you’ve left on his abs.

It’s hot. So fucking hot. You let go of his cock and it bobs tightly, leaning against your stomach, once again you reach for the hem of the shirt. Up until now, Jungkook was content to let you have your way with him, leaving his hands pinned under your ankles, but at your move to rid yourself of his shirt, he yanks them out from under you, sliding you further down onto him and jostling his dick in the process. He grabs the back of the shirt and tugs.

You turn to look over your shoulder and are struck by how fucked out he looks already. Pink and sweaty with eyes blown dark and hair sticking out in all directions. He’s so beautiful it physically hurts you.

“Please keep it on.”

You reach back and circle the wrist of the hand that has the shirt hostage to let him know you’re here, because something wild in his eyes has you scrambling to stay grounded. “I’m not going to take it off, I just want to try something.”

Jungkook lets go of the shirt and you lift the front of it up, hooking it behind your head. He leans forward to free your trapped hair. He now has a full view of your back and ass and when you tilt your hips to touch your clit to his skin, he inhales sharply at the visual. His hands come up to your waist, massaging up and down your sides until his thumbs press into the small of your back and he takes control of your hips, pressing and rotating lightly, tortuously, and it’s not enough.

Your head falls back in part pleasure and part exasperation, the ends of your hairs tickling the both of you.

“I wanna—Can I—” You wiggle in his grip and loosely circle your hand around his cock trying to get your point across, but you’ve gone a little fuzzy around the edges; a haze of want. His hand travels up your spine and wraps in your hair and pulls, you moan, the sharpness clearing your head enough to grit out, “I wanna ride you.”

“Yeah,” he says, light and breathless.

“Yeah,” you parrot back with certainty.

Quickly his hands are off you and you lift up and shuffle forward until your hovering over his waiting cock which he holds erect for you, ready for you to sink down, so you do.

The slide is easy, the stretch aching and delicious like you like it, and, after working yourself down inch by glorious inch, so deep. The thick vein that runs along the bottom of his cock presses tightly against the bundle of nerves inside you and you’re almost afraid to move because you’re already overwhelmed.

You go slow, testing out the strength in your thighs and savoring the drag and the heavy, full feeling that comes with being on top, working yourself open and coating his dick so you’ll be comfortable enough to pick up the pace.

Your instinct is to lean forward and use your hands to give yourself more leverage, but you know it’s going to feel better if you lean back, so you do. Feeling around behind you for Jungkook’s solid chest, utterly unafraid of crushing him after a very serious talk about how much of everything either one of you could take physically and emotionally during sex.

You roll your hips experimenting with the angle and Jungkook tentatively thrusts up. Moving in time to the rise and fall of his chest, shaking already from holding yourself up. You think it might be time to recommit to the gym.

Sweat beads and drips down your body, palms slipping as Jungkook gets more urgent in his thrusts.

“Come down here,” he stops moving to help you lower yourself flat on your back without hurting either of you. He fans your hair out to the side so that it’s not caught between you and hooks his chin over your shoulder, mouth next to your ear. Everything is so much closer, tighter, hotter. It’s much the same position as when you were cuddling, but this time he’s thrusting up inside of you and you’re losing your mind from constant stimulation. His hands can get at you much easier in this position. One goes to your mound to stimulate centimeters from your clit and the other crosses both of your breasts, fitting you to him to move as one and your hands fly up to grab that arm just to have something to hold on to.

Neither of you are very talkative during sex. The idea hot whispered dirty talk was good in theory, but it always felt so stilted and strange coming out of your mouth and Jungkook already had trouble saying things when he wasn’t inside you. It takes you out of the moment and you’re so much more about focusing on your pleasure, fueled exponentially by the sounds Jungkook makes, deep, teeth gritting groans of encouragement and huffs of breath from exertion.

He turns his head to your neck and lays sloppy, wet, open-mouthed kisses there, teeth skating the edge between errant sensation and bruising. You’re tempted to tell him to go for it, to bite and suck and bruise, but it’s too hot to wear a scarf to work and you never did master the art of color correcting, so you content yourself with the scrape of his teeth on your pulse point.

His strokes have gotten longer like they do when he’s trying to last longer, the head of his dick hitting that spot inside you like that’s its mission in life, but it’s not enough. You move the hand on your pubic mound to your hard little nub and breath a sigh of relief when he starts rubbing furiously.

“Close,” he growls in your ear.

You’re not sure if it’s a question or a statement, but you nod and whimper when his finger tips leave you only to snap back down, the obscene wet sound of the slap making you tighten your core more than the actual feeling. He matches the smacks with his upward thrusts. Everything feels too tight, like you’re a rubber band being stretched to the point of breaking.

“Come on, baby. I’ve got you.”

Every muscle in you contracts, it’s almost painful, but such a release. His grip around you tightens as your violent pulsing turns to sporadic flutters. He mumbles a, “hold on—just—” in your shoulder. He stays in you until the last second before pulling out and coming hard on your swollen, wet pussy.

You both lie there, trying to catch your breaths, gulping air like it’s water.

“Love you,” you say.

“Love you.”

When you hold onto each other on your way to the bathroom to clean up, you wonder if now is the time to ask or if asking someone to marry you right after sex is unfair on a chemical level.

He turns on the shower, sticking his hand in to check the temperature before stepping in and making room for you. You wash each other gently, kissing each other slowly, too spent to do much of anything else.

You don’t know if you’ll ask him tonight, but you know you’ll do it soon because you want this with him for as long as possible.

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