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bugeater101 · 1 year

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Telepathy

Synopsis: Game night takes a turn when you're coerced to tell your friends your favourite things to do in the bedroom. Albeit embarrassing, you happily spring at the chance to show your non-conservative side. Yet, the truth is, you do so only because you want Hyunjin to see it. Luckily, when you run into him later that night, you realize the embarrassment had been worth it; it's as if he can read your mind as he gives you all you have dreamed of.

Content: brief mentions of physical insecurities and lack of love life, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, switch!Hyunjin (lots of subwhiningdesperatebabyboy!Hyunjin), switch!reader, slight perv!reader, thigh fucking!!1!!!1!1!, nipple play, lotssssssss of teasing, mating press, unprotected sex (DON'T DO THIS), excessive begging, cum painting, thick/fat/curvy/plus size! reader (as always :]).

Word Count: 8.3k

Author's Notes: This goes out to Hyunjin, who haunts me. This also goes out to all y'all who enjoy my work! Thanks for sticking by me. I'm sorry it took so long to put something new out. It's been a hard few months with some misadventures and some great ones! But, I'm glad to be writing again! This one is for all of my followers, mutuals, anons, and those who send in requests <333 Here's to more fics and stories in 2023! Love y'all!!

Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z, @taekbokki,, @imtoooyoungforthisshit

"I swear to God, it's the absolute best," you laugh.

"OKAY, I BELIEVE YOU," Jeongin belted out. "Now PLEASE get off of me!"

Jeongin's hands were up in the air as if he was surrendering himself to you. Though he wasn't really afraid of you, he did fear touching you, especially since you were in such a precarious position. His eyes were clamped shut— not just from his laugh that caused his cheeks to swell his lids, but because he truly did not want to look.

None of you expected a night of drinking and games to turn out like this. It began with you, Hyunjin, Felix, Jeongin, and Han playing Mario Kart and watching a movie in a drunken, belligerent state, barely paying attention as you yelled curses and vulgarisms at the screen. However, the evening quickly took a turn when you decided to play "truth or truth".

The original "truth or dare" and the more aggressive "dare and dare" games were off the table after Felix ended up in the ER with a chipped tooth after Jeongin dared him to do a backflip while drunk. Needless to say, "truth or dare" had hit the end of its shelf life. So, you guys were happy to play the modified version. Yet, combined with your inebriated state, the game of "truth or truth" always quickly devolved into asking strictly invasive and borderline insane questions. In other words, all questions were related to each others' sex lives (or lack thereof). It was Han's turn, and, of course, he had to ask you what had been bothering him.

"What do girls like in the bedroom?" he slurred out. "But, like, you, specifically?"

"Who the fuck phrases a question like that?" Jeongin hiccuped out.

"Literally," Felix laughed.

"Shutthefuckup! Let her answer!" Jisung shouted in response, stringing his words together. Regardless of your apprehensions about the question, you laughed at the drunken man in an attempt to ease yourself.

Since you were adamant about Han's rather perverted question, you considered passing. You knew the boys would allow you to pass with little complaint, especially considering that it's a rather personal inquiry. The only catch is that you would then be forced to complete a dare in exchange for your liberation (which you were extremely against knowing that the last time you completed a dare, you had to go to physiotherapy for five weeks).

And, frankly, you couldn't deny the benefits of answering Han's question: you would get to show the boys a side of you that you keep so well hidden. Truthfully, it sounded... freeing.

All the boys seeing you like this, straddling a mutual friend you would never see as more than strictly platonic ... it made you feel giddy. Yet, you knew you weren't thinking about all the boys; you were thinking about one boy in particular. One boy that you've had your eye on for quite some time, actually.

With that in mind, you decided to say "yes".

Hyunjin was eyeing you as you pretended to seduce Jeongin, giggling stiffly as you hyped yourself to complete your challenge. You glanced at Hyunjin any chance you got, hoping to gauge his reaction to every little thing you did.

Yet, with every little thing you did, Hyunjin stood still. Even when you finally clamoured on Jeongin, causing him to whine and make the room scream, Hyunjin was the only one to remain silent. Jeongin dug his fingers into the couch, adverted his eyes like he was a sinner and you were God, and prayed for forgiveness. You even had to slightly grind your hips to show the boys what you meant when you were explaining what you liked. And, yet, Hyunjin remained solemn.

Every act you performed made this "truth" feel more like a "dare". Still, you persisted. You wanted Hyunjin to look—and not just stare blankly, but truly see you.

Though he was across the room from you, you could still dream that he had switched places with Jeongin. Imagining he was underneath you instead, digging his hands into your ass as he urged you to "please, go faster y/n" as the little whines escaped him. All the while, his friends—your friend—would exchange nervous glances, but never move. God, they were perverts too, weren't they? Getting off on seeing their friends fuck each other. You could practically see their hard-ons growing at the sight. But Hyunjin wouldn't care; he was shameless. He would beg, plead under you. Sweat beading off of his head as his tongue stuck out, panting like a mutt with every rut of your hips into his. "My Hyunjin," you thought, mouth drying at your deviance, "all for me, my needy baby."

Fuck, you interrupted yourself, ending your train of thought. Get out of my head, Hyunjin!

You couldn't start thinking about him while you were straddling a mutual friend. Not to mention you were straddling said mutual friend to show Hyunjin and two other friends the kind of fucking sex positions you enjoyed. Even though you hovered well above Jeongin—with a book even on his lap (upon both of your urgent insistence) to maintain a distance between you two and your hands hovering above him constantly—you still knew it was messed up to think of Hyunjin below you instead of Jeongin. Jeongin was only there because you guys needed someone to be the victim of your own punishment, and it just so happened that Jeongin failed to answer his own "truth". So, now the unlucky fellow was trapped under you, adverting his gaze as his ears turned red.

For now, Hyunjin needed to stay out of your mind.

Nevertheless, your mind continued to pester you with thoughts of Hyunjin. Was he looking at you right now? Of course, he was looking, but was he looking? Was he staring at you, wondering if you were telling the truth to all these horny 20-something- year-old-boys about your favourite sex positions? Did he look at you and wonder if he could suck your tits while you rode him from that angle? Was he hoping your sweat would taste so sweet mixed with his? Your cum, even?

Fuck, stop thinking about him! you urged yourself.

You tried to keep your thoughts about Hyunjin in a cramped closet in your mind. He was your friend, and you had considered the possibility of you and him numerous times and in countless situations. You always questioned if he liked you, if he ever saw you as more than a friend, or even attractive. In your own personal opinion, you were stunning. Yet, to believe that Hyunjin found you attractive was a different question. Doubt clouded your mind, and soon negative thoughts accumulated and eventually overshadowed any confidence you had in your emotions toward your Hyunnie. Now, after hours and hours of thinking (and many teary-eyed conversations with Felix), you decided that you could only ever be platonic with Hyunjin.

Whatever emotions you had towards him would have to be suppressed for the betterment of the friend group and the preservation of your friendship. Maybe that's why you're straddling Jeongin right now, insisting that it's the perfect position for a guy to suck your tits while you ride him. Maybe it's the only chance you can do such a position with Hyunjin even in the same room as you, albeit just as a voyeur to a rather uncomfortable position between friends.

Jeongin was still howling under you, almost in tears from how funny but unorthodox the situation was. It's moments like this that you truly enjoy the coyness of your friends, because in no other situation would be able to make Jeongin so utterly flustered. It made you giggle more. In fact, every screech and wail from the boy made everyone laugh harder, tears beginning to brim your eyes.

"OKAY YOU MADE YOUR POINT NOW," Jeongin cried, actual tears starting to fall from your eyes. "NOW GET OFF OF ME."

"NO, I HAVEN'T!" You hollered back, wanting to prolong Jeongin's suffering. Hyunjin was momentarily out of your mind as you put all your energy towards prolonging Jeongin's torture. "I need to explain why I like it, Innie!" You added cutesy and teasing emphasis to the nickname, purposefully teasing him in the hopes of inducing even more suffering.

"YOU DON'T NEED TO DO THAT, YOU DICK!" Jeongin cried, tears welling in his eyes. At this point, you could barely hold yourself on top of him, laughter swelling in your chest.

"I don't even get a chance to explain myself?!" You laughed evilly.

"You finished your dare, y/n," Han cackled, "Get off the poor boy!" With the little strength you could gather, you stumbled off of him, collapsing to the floor and wiping your eyes clean. Han was on the floor now too, barely breathing with each maniacal laugh. Felix was holding onto the counter now as his laughter consumed him. And, through your tears and gasps for breath, there stood Hyunjin. He seemed to be forcing out a chuckle here and there, hand on a counter in an attempt to pass as an act of relaxation. He was not dying of laughter as the four of you were (more like three considering that Jeongin might actually be dead now).

Thankfully, you couldn't focus on that. As your stomach began to cramp from giggles, your mind was absent of Hyunjin for the first time that night; it was too busy watching as Han kept bringing Felix to the ground each time he tried to help him up. The laughter almost refused to subside, a single glance causing one of you to burst into tears again.

Nevertheless, the game of "truth or truth" magically managed to resume.

Soon, Felix and Jeongin were whispering with ill intent, deciding on a question for Han as payback for his last "truths". You decided to skip the rest of the game, feeling like your turn took all your courage out of you, and opted to linger in the kitchen while Hyunjin cleaned.

"Why aren't you playing?" You asked while swinging your feet from the countertop you were situated on.

Hyunjin shook his head. "Ah, I'm tired," he responded in a simple voice. "Plus, this place is a mess." You laughed, unable to deny the state the apartment was left in after this night's bender.

Alcohol still lingered in you, yet the night was beginning to die down. So, tackling the mess now insured an easier hangover cleanup tomorrow. It made sense, sure. However, what didn't make sense was that Hyunjin was the one cleaning the place up.

"Well, living with Chan, Changbin, and Han sure has changed you, then," you commented. Hyunjin chuckled at the comment, head still down at the cup he was absent-mindedly scrubbing. He couldn't deny that he was often the one making and leaving messes.

"Maybe living with the three true fraternity boys of the group changed something in you."

"Maybe," Hyunjin responded, not offering any other commentary. You stared at his hands longer, pondering his actions.

"Why are you cleaning up?" You asked. Hyunjin stopped scrubbing and glanced up at you, almost shocked at your question, as if it was as invasive as asking him his favourite sex positions then requiring him to demonstrate in front of his closest friends. He shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"You never clean. You're the one making the messes, babe," you laughed, noticing how he perked up at the petname. "Is something up?"

Hyunjin's mouth opened to answer but nothing came out, letting the giggles of the other three boys fill the silent space instead. He shut his mouth, thought for a second, then sighed.

"Just needed to get out of the game, I guess," he said in an almost-whisper. Now it was your turn to be confused.

"Whatever do you mean?" You leaned on your palms, allowing yourself to move closer to the tall figure that was your bewitchingly attractive friend. God, you could just lean in and kiss him right now. So briefly, too. Would he even notice? You look into his eyes, searching for his thoughts, hoping he feels your telekinetic kisses.

Suddenly, Hyunjin broke the silence that had grown between you.

"Can you explain it?"

The question stunted any response you could muster. Now it was your turn to open your mouth with no sound to come out.

"What... what do you mean?" God, you sound like a broken record. You knew what he was referring to, but—if the blush on your face was evidence enough—bravery had evaded you. Hyunjin smirked and chuckled, glancing away before refocusing on you.

"You know what I mean," redness spread up his ears, making him glow. "If you don't mind me asking at least... why do you... like to straddle your partners?"

Well, if there was any way to politely ask your friends why they liked the sex positions they did, that was the way to phrase it. However, that didn't prevent you from devolving again. Muteness consumed you, the blush on your face making you wholly red.

Yet, Hyunjin didn't pull the question away. He didn't tell you it was okay if you didn't want to answer, didn't even say he wouldn't judge. Instead, he let the question hang in the air. It devoured the space between you, silence shrinking as everything seemed to grow loud. It was almost as if Hyunjin didn't retract the question because he needed to know the answer. Like he wanted to make you embarrassed, to blush for him, to make him wait because he knew that—one way or another—you would tell him.

You cleared your throat.

"I... suppose..." you began. Hyunjin leaned in, your small voice aching to be heard.

"It's, like... the closeness of it. Being held, pressed against each other... it does something." Your eyes could barely meet his, decidedly losing yourself in your thoughts to avoid eye contact with the person you dream about doing this stuff with. You could feel his gaze burn into you.

"Chest pressed against chest," you continued, your voice growing more assured but still so goddamn quiet. "Like your hoping to feel closer with every touch of skin. And you know you could never be closer to that person than you are in that moment... but, still, you ache, yearn for more. Every rut and bite is just a plea for more. And, if the person's right... you sort of feel like it's enough. Like you're enough."

The silence was now deafening. Before, a pin drop could be heard like the sound of a bell's toll. Now, it was as if the world was entirely silent, waiting for one of you to speak up. You wanted to say more, to say "and you are the right person Hyunjin, you always have been, please make me feel like I'm enough" and let him take you, fuck you right and in front of everyone, be his and him yours. Yet, your voice was gone, realizing the gravity of the words you just spoke. You tried to clear your throat in an effort to regain your speech, but it failed, and you were still silent.

However, the sound roused Hyunjin from his thoughts, alerting him of his surroundings. Though you thought he would pull away, he didn't move away; he leaned in.

"Who... who was the right person, y/n?" For the first time since your confession, you looked at Hyunjin. He was... hurt? He looked hurt, like tears could well up in his eyes and he could just bawl like an infant. And, to be frank, it made you want to cry, too.

You cleared your throat again, successfully regaining your voice this time.

"N-no one," you stuttered, slipping off of the counter and gingerly landing on your feet. "It was just... I was just thinking about what it could be like to be with... you know, the 'right person'." In an effort to emphasize your rather unsuccessful love life, you did air quotes and rolled your eyes at the last words. Hyunjin kept his head down and nodded, unable to make eye contact with you. Tonight is all about personal questions, you thought, making yourself almost chuckle.

"I'm-i'm sure the right person will come around, y/n," Hyunjin stammered. "You deserve the best, the absolute best." He started to ramble now, eyes clear but still adverting yours as he let words pour out of him without consequence.

"You deserve a proper confession, dates beyond your wildest imaginations to the humblest of comforts. You should be with someone that makes the simplest of occurrences feel special, like every day is filled with life. Someone who—even if things didn't work out—would make you a better person. Someone who would give you the whole world because they know you would take care of it. You deserve it."

His words hung around you for a second. Then another second. And Hyunjin suddenly realized all he had said.

Your heart felt like it was about to implode in your chest. It seemed like you would die if you didn't grab Hyunjin right now and tell him "the right person has come around, it's you and it will always be you. Please, look at me. See that you are the one for me, the only one I want. Please, give me your world."

Yet, you didn't. Why didn't you?

Hyunjin's words had caught up to him by now, and he aggressively gulped before staring back at the floor.

"A-anyway," he stuttered, "I'm..." he stopped himself, as if allowing himself to catch a breath before continuing. He let out a breath through his nose, "I'm positive the right person will come around, y/n."

You just nodded and stared at the ground, a grave smile being the only acknowledgment you give Hyunjin.

"I hope they do," you mumbled.

Why didn't you tell him?

---

God, what time is it?

Your head ached, the after-effects of alcohol beginning to settle in. Glancing at the blinking clock in the corner of Han's room, your blurred vision managed to catch the time.

Fuck. 4:08AM.

You figured that your hangover was what woke you; the dehydrated state of your body was obvious by the splintering headache and the desert that had settled in your throat. You probably fell asleep only a few hours ago. Now, you were shaking Han and Felix off of you, trying your best to slip out of Han's room after you guys passed out following last night's events.

Could it even be classified as "last night" when it was just 3 hours ago?

Despite the weariness of your body, you managed to drag yourself to the kitchen. Everyone was surely dead asleep, Han and Felix tangled in bed with Jeongin passed out on the floor beside them. Hyunjin slept in his room, giving an Irish Goodbye to you by leaving the living room without a word at about midnight. You couldn't lie by saying that you didn't miss his presence by the night's end.

Nevertheless, your mind was focused on one thing now: hydration. Water. Immediately. Something to make you feel alive.

Once your glass was poured and you took a sip, the water felt like the elixir of life. You chugged it greedily, feeling an instant rejuvenation as your headache felt like it was beginning to clear. This water was liquid gold.

"Y/n?"

The sudden presence of another person made you choke on the water.

"Oh shit," Hyunjin muttered as he rushed beside you and patted your back, helping you through your coughing spurt.

"Fuck," your voice cracked.

You cleared your throat again, "I didn't know anyone else was awake."

Hyunjin laughed, "I never even managed to fall asleep. Now I'm glad I got to witness your death." You shot him a glare, but it was instantly softened by noticing his light expression. God, he's handsome.

"I only choked because you startled me, asshole," you giggled through watering eyes. Hyunjin laughed too, rubbing your back as your coughing ceased.

"You good?"

"Yeah, for now," you responded. You sipped the rest of your water, finishing off the glass before pouring another. "But I'm for sure not gonna go back to sleep now." Hyunjin smiled.

"That means you can join me and my insomnia!" Hyunjin fake-cheered, making you smile and roll your eyes.

"Hooray to perpetual exhaustion," you joked dryly. Hyunjin giggled at your pain, starting to push you toward his room. Was his hand still on your back from your coughing spurt?

"Come to my room, we can talk without worrying about waking the others," he murmured. He led you to his room, shutting the door behind him as you placed your water on his desk.

"I seriously doubt we could wake them up," you laughed, allowing your voice to rise to its normal decibel now that walls separated you from the other boys. "I practically stepped on Jeongin when I left and he barely stirred. I'm pretty sure he might be dead."

Hyunjin tried not to laugh, still aware of how quite he should be.

However, after glancing at you, the laugh died in his throat. You were teasing the seams of his duvet, testing the thread count as you rubbed the fabric between your fingers. Instantly, a blush crept up on his face.

Hyunjin imagined you enjoyed the softness of his sheets; he had wanted to share them every night with you. If only you had taken his hints, seen past his nervous demeanour and realized that he wanted you so deeply and intensely. Those very sheets had witnessed their fair share of Hyunjin desperately fucking his hand every night, praying one day that you would be there instead.

Now, you were here. Alone. Waiting for him.

"Why are you still standing?" you asked.

Fuck, he had been staring. He shook his head, trying to make his dirty thoughts shake off of him like water droplets in his hair.

"Sorry," he grumbled, "might actually be more exhausted then I thought."

Suddenly, he felt your hands on his arm, tugging him away from the wall.

"Well, then get into bed," you giggled. Before he could laugh along, you suddenly jerked his arm. Hard. You had backed straight into his bed and fallen into you, pulling him with you.

"Shit!" You yelped as you bounced on the mattress, Hyunjin landing right after you. Luckily, before he could crush your body with his, his palms outstretched and he managed to catch himself. Now, he was positioned above you, eyes shut from the sudden fall.

When he opened his eyes, there you were.

He was on top of you. You were below him.

Yet, you didn't move. And neither did he.

"Shit— sorry," he stammered out, face and ears glowing red.

"I-it's okay," you muttered, "accidents happen." Your eyes looked into his, studying his face in the brief moments when they darted away from his gaze.

Hyunjin gulped. "Yeah, all the time." God, he was beautiful.

"I suppose I should get off now." You nodded slightly, the little movement of your head making it obvious how little space there was between your bodies.

"Yeah, of course," you whispered.

And again, strangely enough, neither of you made effort to move. In fact, Hyunjin, got down on his elbows, his lips only centimetres from yours.

"Was it true?" he asked out of the blue.

"W-what?" you stuttered.

"That you like being close... and..." He was starting to loose himself in you, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't losing yourself in him. You were pressed so tightly against him. Your pulse could even be felt through your plump chest, your heart practically jumping out of your ribcage, out of your chest.

"And...?" you continued, your lips ghosting over his.

"And... that no one has ever been that close to you?" He asked. You gulped.

"No... but there is someone I want to..." Your sentence trailed off.

You could hardly think now. Fuck, finish your words, you urged yourself. Say it.

You gulped. You didn't want Hyunjin to finish your words. You wanted to say it yourself. You wanted the words to leave your mouth. And, from the expression on Hyunjin's face, he wanted you to say it, too. Just as before, he let the silence rest between you, not retreating from it but letting it simmer. He refused to fill the emptiness.

"There is someone I want to be that close to me," you finally finished. Hyunjin's tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips, and you swore you could feel it ghost yours due to how close you were.

"Who, y/n?" He finally questioned.

The question was like the straw that broke the camel's back. It was as if Hyunjin's words gave you a morsel of confidence like you were magically able to tell him all you wanted to say. He had finally asked you, and thank God he did.

"You know who it is, Hyunjin," you teased, straight face. Hyunjin's eyes stared back into yours.

"Say it." He demanded, "Say their name."

You smiled.

"It's you, Hyunjin," you stated breathlessly. "It's always been you."

The words were almost like an agreement. As if your telepathic powers finally worked and Hyunjin—after countless hours of pinning—heard your pleas: fuck me Hyunjin, have me, please.

His mouth pressed into yours desperately, moans instantly leaving him from the relief of tasting you. Your reaction was eerily similar to his. Whimpers poured out of you as your hands pressed into his chest, pawing at him through the thin material of his t-shirt. Though you had waited forever to feel him like this, uninhibited by social customs that barred friends from being so close, the space your hands created between your bodies was unbearable. Instead, you rubbed up his chest and shoulders, briefly groping his muscular arms before resting your hands on his back. You then pushed into his muscular shoulder blades, pushing him further into your plump body in an attempt to bring him closer because, fuck, he could never be close enough.

"God, fuck," Hyunjin gasped as his hands tangled in your hair, his kisses messy. The mess of spit and teeth caused you to moan, hunger practically leaking out of both of you. His kisses moved down from your lips to your jaw, now resting on your neck as he kissed and sucked on the sensitive skin.

"I—want to be so close to you—y/n," he said between kisses, the words being more of a plea than a statement. A beg more than an ask.

"H-Hyunjin..." you whimpered as he whined into you.

"Just—like you—wanted, yeah? I— want to feel you— wrapped—around me," he moaned as he rutted into you. You couldn't hold back your own moans.

"Hyujin—"

"So tight—you'd be—so tight, riding me—fuck. I'd let— you do— whatever—you want to me, y/n. Ride me—please."

Tears were almost brimming in your eyes at his words, despite his obscenities. You were so full of love for him that the aspect of him doing this to you—loving you and blatantly doing so in such acts of desperation—made you overflow with adoration.

However, you couldn't trick him any longer.

"Wait, Hyunnie, wait," you protested, pulling him so his face was again above yours.

"What's—what's wrong baby?" He asked between kisses to your cheeks. God, he couldn't stop kissing you even if you asked him to wait. He'd be gentle, slow down maybe, but it seemed like he could never stop. Not with you, not ever.

Still, you needed to focus.

"I lied earlier," you replied, your voice light despite the heaviness of your words. Yet, Hyunjin didn't stop he let your words hang. He refused to stomp on your voice, wanting to use your words rather than finish your sentences for you. You were a big girl, and you could speak for yourself. Your words could've meant anything— lies about your love for him, about the desire to be here, anything. Regardless, Hyunjin kept kissing your face, now taking time to study your glossy, fucked-out eyes. Fuck, how could you be so pretty?

You gulped, trying to focus yourself and not get lost in his touch: how his kisses felt, how he rutted into you, and, god, how big his cock must be.

"I lied about... my favourite position," you stated.

That, surprisingly, was what made Hyunjin pull away. Though it was brief, you instantly yearned for the sensation of his touch.

"Well," he asked, occasionally glancing down at your reddened lips, "Then... what is it?"

From his words alone, you could tell that Hyunjin was yours. His tonality, his cadence, all of it told you that he was willing to do anything for you.

Then it became incredibly obvious when Hyunjin tried to guess what your favourite position really was.

"Doggy? No... fuck, as much as I'd like to see your ass from that angle, it's not close enough. Even if I'd press you into me, hold you by your throat, lick the shell of your ear, and whisper dirty things to you," his words made him start slowly rutting into you again. "Fuck, it still wouldn't be enough. I wouldn't be able to see your beautiful face. Hmph—" Hyunjin stopped dragging his cock across your clothed cunt, the stimulation becoming overbearing.

Yet, he continued.

"What about missionary? Or is too formal?"

Hyunjin stared at you as he continued to list off all the positions he knew, unaware of your agape mouth and the blush that never seemed to fade from your face. Clearly, he had been thinking about fucking you as much as you wanted to fuck him.

Hyunjin's eyes were shut now, getting lost in his fantasies as he brought your leg up to his chest so he could rub his growing erection deeper into you. His sweat pants barely constrained him as his eyes pinched and his words stuttered.

Before you could let Hyunjin continue, your words halted him.

"None of that, Hyunnie," you whispered. "Please... can I... can I show you?" Hyunjin's eyes shot open.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "How do you want me, y/n?"

With a few words and repositioning, Hyunjin arranged himself exactly how you requested. Leaning against the headboard of his bed, Hyunjin eyed you as you sat beside him, playing with his hair. He was in his boxers now, stripped of his loungewear and his blush spreading down his chest. You had stripped down, too, only retaining your cropped tank top which your nipples poked through and panties as a flimsy cover for your cunt. Hyunjin was practically drooling at seeing you so bare, your full tummy pudge making his mouth water.

"I want to mark your tummy, baby," he breathed out, hands fisting the sheets in an attempt to ground himself. "With my kisses, with my hickies, with my cum, with—"

Your laugh stopped him. The light smile on your face contrasted with the absolute deprivation plastered on Hyujin's. He needs you, and here you were, teasing him.

"Aw, I thought you wanted to help me, Hyunnie," you teased. Your hand traced down his chest, fingers brushing lightly against his abs, ribs, and anywhere that would give him goosebumps. Hyunjin leaned his head, whimpering at your touch.

"Fuck— yes," he groaned, "a-anything for you, y/n, anything."

You giggled. "Then let me take my time, baby." Your hand traced his waistband, making Hyunjin gasp. Thankfully, your hand dipped lower, grasping his cock through the strained fabric of his boxers.

"Mmm— Fuck," he whimpered. His voice faltered as you rubbed him slow and firm, his hips stuttering as you teased his tip.

"God, y/n, this can't be it," he protested. Your eyebrows raised quizzically.

"Whatever do you mean, Hyunjin?" Now it was his time to use his words.

"Please," he mewled, "please, show me the position... don't just play with my cock. Please."

Fuck, how could you deny him like this? Practically crying for you? Your smile grew, satisfied with his response.

"Okay, Hyunnie," you chuckled. Pulling your hand away from him, Hyunjin's eyes shot open, offended by the fleeting touch. Yet, before he could oppose the act, your hand push his torso back against the headboard, holding him steady as you readied yourself.

Sitting back on your knees, your hands grasped Hyunjin's. You guided him towards your crop top, as if you were silently telling him "undress me, take me." Hyunjin complied.

He undressed you eagerly, savouring the way your tits bounced out of your tight crop top. Next was your panties, which slid deliciously off of your legs as they clung to your cunt from your wetness. You took each garment of clothing from him, tossing the crop top aside but keeping the underwater dangling in your grasp. Hyunjin took a shaky breath in at the prospect of what you would do with them. Pump him with them? Let him taste your scent?

Sadly, you were simply teasing him. You quickly discarded them with the rest of your clothes, symbolizing your lack of interest in them but understanding the effect they had on Hyunjin. Your actions made Hyunjin whimper: he did not want to waste your panties nor waste any of your juices. Hyunjin almost wanted to beg now for you to stuff them in his mouth, his tolerance wearing thin.

"Sit back, Hyunjin," you stated, to which he immediately complied. He didn't even realize he had begun pulling towards you again. As soon as his back hit the headboard again, you began to rise from your knees. While maintaining eye contact with him, you sat back on your plump ass and allowed your legs to softly rest across Hyunjin's thighs. Almost immediately, Hyunjin's hands began to caress your legs, pressing the squishy flesh into his aching cock gently while relishing the feeling of your soft skin against his. He took another shaky breath in.

"I'm glad you like my legs, Hyunnie," you smiled. Hyunjin could barely break his stare away from the soft flesh as he agreed.

"More than like, y/n," he responded. You laughed.

"Good," you continued, "because in the position—my favourite position—my legs are a key feature." Those words were enough to break Hyunjin's trance and allow his eyes to focus on yours. God, if he didn't love you before, he surely did now. His grip on your thighs was almost painful but still deliciously satisfying.

"Please," he breathed out, almost choking on the air, "please, show me." And, of course, you complied. Bending your knees slightly, you moved your hands into the space and pulled Hyunjin's boxers down slightly, allowing his cock to spring free.

Fuck. You were right about his size.

His tip was red from the strain against the fabric, and your mouth watered at the idea of his cum filling your mouth. However, you needed to focus on the task at hand.

You slowly began to pump him. You wanted to stroke him to his full length, but from the size and hardness, you could tell Hyunjin was already about to cum. Other dead giveaways were Hyunjin's whimpers that filled the room, his precum that coated your hand, and how he drooled at your touch. In fact, Hyunjin's tongue hung out of his mouth, lightly panting at each stroke you offered him.

"F-fuck, baby," he whimpered, "Y/n, please, let me fuck you—hmm!" your hand suddenly pumped him faster before returning to your original tempo.

"Tut tut, Hyunnie," you tsked, "patience is a virtue. Don't you know that?" Hyunjin nodded vigorously, worried at the idea of you prolonging his torture.

"Your such a good boy, yeah?"

"O-only for y/n," his eyes were wide and teary, and your heartbeat reverberated a bit louder in your chest.

"Then you shouldn't rush what I want." With those words, you slowly lowered your plush thighs back across his lap. Slowly, you parted them, creating a small crevice through which you guided Hyunjin's swelling cock through. The soft, tight make-shift pussy that now encapsulated his dick made Hyunjin shake.

"Fuck, please." Tears threatened to spill from his eyes from pleasure. You just smiled.

Your thighs rested on his, now. His dick was snug between them, twitching when you squished them together and hugged him so nicely. Hyunjin's grip on you was harsh, leaving his knuckles white as he kept you close. One hand held you around your waist while the other massaged your calf, wrapping completely around your lower leg. Though fondling you, the act grounded him as he tried to distract himself from thrusting up into you. God, he wanted to be so good for you, make his words worth something.

Your touch wasn't helping. You rubbed his lower legs while your other hand continued to pet his hair, scratching in all the right places.

This. This was what you wanted. His cock, so snug and needy between your legs. And Hyunjin, the man of your dreams, purring at your touch. It was his beautifully desperate cock aching for stimulation. It was his red tip that leaked precum, that was dying to fuck your thighs, to fuck you. You almost didn't want to make him cum in fear that his release meant the end of this proximity between you. Though it pained him to be so teased, you still desired to keep like this, whining between your legs. Completely wrapped around your finger. Utterly devoted to you, waiting for your orders.

But, fuck, you just had to give him what he wanted. It was Hyunjin, for God's sake.

So, you indulged him. Your hand traced up his leg, up your juicy thighs, and towards Hyunjin's mouth. Your fingers traced his lips before pushing in and wetting them on his tongue. He hummed and whined against the pads of your index and middle fingers. He could've sucked on them forever. However, once they were satisfactorily wet, you retracted them, placing them in your own mouth and mixing his spit with yours. Hyunjin's eyes studied you intently, whimpering at your actions, anticipating what was to come.

Then, your hand—soaked in yours and his spit—ever so gently began to tease Hyunjin's aching tip that peaked out from between your thighs. Just a little. Just enough.

Hyunjin almost instantly began to thrust up into you, eagerly fucking your thighs and moaning loudly with each pump.

"Take it, baby," you whispered to his ears as you planted kisses on his scarlet cheeks, "take all I give you."

Hyunjin took your words as an invitation.

His lips kissed down your neck and collarbones, hand holding you close but not haltering the hand that fucked his poor cock. He held you close, so close. Each kiss made him pull you closer to his body, each kiss an anguished act to show you fuck, please be close to me, y/n.

As if reaching the end of his journey, Hyunjin's mouth settled on your chest. His hand that once caressed your legs now fondled your tits, pinching and twisting your nipple while his mouth sucked eagerly on the other. The slobber from his kisses left your chest glossy and, truth be told, made him so much hungrier for you. Each kiss made you moan louder, pump his dick harder, and press him nearer to you.

"I like being this close to my Hyunnie," you cried as your legs and hands fucked Hyunjin's cock. "Just-just like how I a-always wanted."

"Ah— fuck," Hyunjin moaned open mouth kisses into your chest, leaning more and more into your body while his hips fucked up into you more aggressively. As his hands and body contorted yours, the pressure he applied to you suddenly overpowered your own.

Hyunjin toppled over you, his cock freeing from your legs as you landed on your back against the bed. The change in position triggered something in Hyunjn. It was either that or seeing you sprawled out below him, glistening from the mixture of his spit and the sweat on your chest, making your tits look so much more delectable. Due to the sight of you, Hyunjin let his swollen lips slobber onto your chest, causing you to shiver at the sensation.

"Hyunnie..." you whined under him, "I didn't get to finish." The pout that layered your voice made Hyunjin want to give in to you. You were so unsatisfied with your unfinished performance and wanted to give him more and more. However, Hyunjin was the one who could truly voice dissatisfaction. After all, he was the one with a heavy erection that continuously leaked, begging for release. You had teased him for so long, and now, it was his turn.

"We have to take turns, y/n." Hyunjin smiled, "It's time to show you my favourite position."

You were at a loss for words. Hyunjin being above you was something you dreamed of, and now, under him, you were completely content on relinquishing your control over him in favour of having him own you, of making you his.

"Hyunnie," you pleaded, "show me."

In an instant, Hyunjin pinned your knees to your sides, squishing your torso between your thick thighs. Your chest, already marked and soaked in liquids, rubbed feverishly against Hyunjin's own bare torso. The sensations made you squirm, yet you could barely move with how tightly Hyunjin held you. To him, you were a doll, ready to use and malleable to his will.

Hyunjin's knees caged your own legs, his body using every limb and appendage to secure you underneath him. One hand, nevertheless, still held your head. Hyunjin, even in the lewdest moments, held you, wanted you, and pined for you.

His other hand, however, was guiding his reddening cock to your pussy.

"I've waited so long, y/n," he panted into your ear. "So long. And now you think you can tease me? Make me wait to take what's mine?"

You wanted to respond, truly you did, but your voice was stuck in your throat. Hyunjin rubbed his cockhead against your clit, teasing you both deliciously and gathering your juices on his heavy erection. Despite the minimal stimulus given to you, you were practically gushing.

"Aw, baby's too dumb to respond," Hyunjin cooed, his tongue darting out and licking the lobe of your ear, causing you to shiver.

"Please, y/n," Hyunjin whispered to you, "say the words, say anything and I'll give in." His cock continued to rub you up and down your cunt, ghosting but never fully entering you. It took every crumb of conviction to compose yourself. You needed to tell Hyunjin what you wanted, what you needed. You took a breath in, and—as shaky as it was—gained the air needed to speak.

"I-I'm your toy, Hyunnie," you mewled, "j-just yours, only Hyunjin's—ah!"

Your words were cut short as Hyunjin pushed into you, his cock rejoicing in being hugged by your plush walls.

"God," Hyunjin praised. His hips quickly picked up a fast, harsh speed, chasing the high he had been so sinfully neglected this whole night. Each push into you made you feel so full, so utterly and totally complete.

"Hyun-nie," you stuttered out as his dick pistoned into you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin panted, pressing his forehead to yours and allowing his sweat to trickle down you.

"Mmh! Hyunjin," you whimpered as his tip met that gummy spot inside you. Your high was quickly coming, the teasing you had subjected Hyunjin to all night obviously affecting you, as well.

"God, look at you," Hyunjin gasped, pulling away from the crook in your neck. Your glossy eyes could barely register Hyunjin above you, completely consumed by the way his cock felt inside you. Hyunjin could tell you were gone but did not relent in his pace. Instead, he let one hand trace up your body and begin to caress your face before sticking his thumb in your mouth, which you eagerly sucked. Hyunjin smirked as he dug deeper into you.

"Y/n," he moaned. "All that shit about closeness it's true, isn't it? But— fuck—but you also just wanna be used like a slut, allow me to fuck your thighs and use you how I like, huh?"

You wanted to nod, plead and agree with your love that yes, you were just a needy bitch that needed to be filled with cum in order to behave. Instead, you continued to eagerly suck on Hyunjin's thumb, pawing at his veiny arms.

Hyunjin continued, "God, when I saw you on top of Jeongin earlier it— hmm! Fuck—it...it made me want to take you in front of him, in front of everyone. You're mine, love. Mine."

"Hyunjin's," you mumbled with his digit still wrapped around your tongue, "Only Hyunnie's."

"You just love having people look at you being a little slut, though," Hyunjin growled. "Loving cock so goddamn much that you'd fuck all your friends just to get a taste of dick? Well, you can have mine baby. You'll have to beg, but you can get it. Every night. My cock—mmhm! M-my cock, so snug in you, between your thighs, ready to cum for you. Y-you'd like that, wouldn't you? To be filled with my c-cum?"

Hyunjin started to lose himself. Honestly, you wanted to applaud him for how long he had been able to hold on. He had been so patient, so good for you. After the events of tonight, he deserved to fuck you how he wanted. He dragged his thumb out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with his own mouth and swallowing your whimpers. The wet digit then found its way to your clit, offering quick swipes which matched the pace of his cock.

"Hmph! I— shit— Hyunjin!" You panted between kisses. Each rub against you brought you closer and closer to Hyunjin, his smile evident within the clashing teeth and lips.

"Y/n," he cooed your name like a mantra. "Fuck, I wanna cum all over you, love. Just paint you with it. Please, princess? Please cum for me."

"Hyunnie—" your voice was cut off by the sudden erratic motions of Hyunjin's hips. As he chased his high, you were pulled from all coherent thoughts. Your mind clouded, his cock continually abusing your delicate cunt.

"M-my princess," Hyunjin moaned as he pressed harder into you, "my little y/n taking my cock so well. You're coming, aren't you? God, you clamp so hard around me. Finish, p-please—fuck—finish so I can cum all over you." The request, though more of a demand, wasn't hard to fulfill. With his final words, you painted Hyunjin's cock with your juices, still holding onto him so tightly, desperate to hang on to the feeling of being so full.

Sadly, your cum allowed Hyunjin to slip out of you, leaving you empty but blessing you with the image of Hyunjin fucking his fist right above your tummy. He straddled your body, sweat pouring off of him and adding to the fluids that coated his cock.

"Y/n, y/n," he cried. "S-so close to me... my baby, so close to me." Your hand joined his, rubbing his tip eagerly in the hopes of finally offering Hyunjin precious release.

"Cum, baby," you panted in your fucked-out state, "cum all over me."

As if your words liberated him from a curse, Hyunjin spilt his cum all over his hand while letting it paint your chest, assisting hand, and tummy. The sensation made you squirm under him.

"M-my pretty princess," Hyunjin moaned, "all mine, my pretty baby." Before you could leave his grip, Hyunjin's other hand groped your chest to force you to stay still, rubbing his juices into you.

"Mmh, my baby covered in my pups," he hummed as he allowed bliss to settle into him. Liquid still oozed out of his slit, the last of his orgasm still riding out. Then, with his cum covered hand, he stuck two digits into your hung-open mouth, which you then greedily sucked clean.

"So sweet," Hyunjin whispered as he lowered himself towards you, "so good." He let his barely-cleaned hand slip from your mouth, leaning into a slow kiss with you.

The kiss was not desperate, not demanding or needy. For that night, it was the only thing you had down slowly, with intent and purpose. His tongue danced with yours, letting honeyed moans escape him as he cherished the precious moment with you. As he pulled away from the kiss, he allowed his legs to unpin you and his hands to settle into yours, intertwining despite the stickiness of his mess.

"I'm glad I got to show you what I like, y/n." Hyunjin's voice was almost innocent, naive in his love-soaked words. You giggled

"I like what you like, Hyunjin," you mumbled with a faint smile layering your exhausted voice.

"I like what you like, too," he replied. Placing a final kiss on your forehead, Hyunjin smiled, completely content.

"I like you."

You smiled back. "I like you, too, Hyunnie. So much."

The rest of the night was spent locked in each other's arms, insomnia fleeing as the golden hue of the sky began to settle as the sun rose. Tomorrow, you would be subjected to questioning from the boys as you emerged from Hyunjin's room, bruised and blushing from the previous night's escapades. Yet, for now, it was just you and Hyunjin. Alone, and basking in each other's presence as the day took over the night sky.

For now, you could rejoice in the intimacy between you and the boy you liked, the closeness you two felt with each other, and the kisses that he let linger on your face as you were lulled to sleep.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader

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roosterbox · 3 months

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Heyyyyyyy Steddie thinky thought time again! And I’m putting it under a cut because, YET AGAIN, my hand slipped and I accidentally almost 2,000 words.

Tags: ANGST, miscommunication, HOH!Steve, Mean-and-Overly-Defensive!Eddie

So picture this, if you will…

High school AU. Probably no Upside-Down. Steve is deaf/HOH. He signs, but he knows that not everyone else does, and so few take the time to learn, especially not for him, so he usually carries around a notepad too. Just in case. Someone (probably Dustin, lbr) asks him to sit in on a Hellfire meeting. Heck, maybe even asks him to join. Steve is unsure, but he’s open to new experiences and Dustin always makes his favorite club sound really awesome (also the guy who runs the club is super cool and hot too, but shhhhhh). So sure - he’ll check it out.

The day comes and Steve gets there early. Like really early. In fact, he’s there before anyone else. Which is fine; he can use the extra free time to do a little homework, right? Thing is though, he’s so focused on his notebook that he doesn’t notice somebody else come in - Eddie. And there are four important things to note about Eddie.

He doesn’t know Steve is deaf.

He doesn’t know that Steve has been explicitly invited here by Dustin.

He knows Steve only by his reputation. So, not good.

He’s as protective of his club and the kids in it as a mama bear.

Needless to say, these four factors combine into a perfect storm, and Eddie is immediately on the offensive.

“Hey!” He says. “Hey, Harrington!” He continues when he gets no acknowledgement. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

No answer. Steve doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps writing in his notebook.

“Hey asshole! I’m talking to you!” Eddie’s volume is rising, as is his temper. Despite his uncle’s best efforts, Eddie’s never been the best at keeping cool. But, man, the disrespect. It tends to eat at him. And coming from King Steve of all people? Oooooooh doesn’t that just make his blood boil. Eddie stalks over to where Steve is sitting. If he thinks he’s gonna waltz in there and tease or humiliate any of Eddie’s little sheepies, he’s got another thing coming.

Steve, meanwhile, is just happily doing his homework. Maybe doodling a little in the margins. Wondering if Eddie looks as cool running the club as he does around school. Especially when he’s up on the lunch tables ranting about conformity. He’s so lost in thought that a sudden hand on his arm shocks him out of his chair, up to his feet. And just like that, he’s face to face with his secret crush, the one and only Eddie Munson. He smiles, but only for a moment as he sees Eddie’s furious expression. The other boy’s lips are moving. A little fast, but Steve does his best to read them.

“-hell are you doing here, Harrington? This isn’t one of your stupid jock sports teams. If you’re here to hurt these kids-“

Steve’s eyes widen. He tries to sign something. No, no.

Eddie sees Steve looking scared, waving his hands. It only serves to make him angrier. Steve sees he’s getting nowhere with sign, so he grabs his notepad and starts writing. He can still see Eddie saying something in his periphery, and he tries to write fast. To clear up any misunderstanding.

But then. Eddie goes too far. He manages to hit on one of Steve’s biggest insecurities mid-rant. And then he keeps digging at it. Steve stops writing and just… stares. Like a dog, Eddie cannot let go of the bone he’s found, so he keeps going. Insert any list of your favorite Steve insecurities here. His upbringing. His (bad) relationship with his parents. His reputation (which Steve hates so much). His intelligence. His fighting skills or lack thereof (poor Steve: getting beat up in every universe). And the worst part is how mean Eddie is about it. The kids tease Steve too, and yeah sometimes it hurts, but it’s never felt as outright cruel as it does when Eddie says it.

Steve’s eyes fill with tears, despite his best efforts, and while Eddie is mid sentence, Steve decides he’s had enough. He shoves his notepad at Eddie, into his chest, eliciting a surprised huffed exhale, before grabbing his bag and just running. He runs out the door, out of the building, to his car, and drives himself home. He doesn’t stop crying for hours.

Eddie, after the surprise of Steve shoving him and running out, just rolls his eyes. “Typical,” he mutters under his breath. “Fucking prick.”

He looks down at the notepad in his hands, still mad but also curious as to what Steve had thought was so important that he just had to start scribbling it down while Eddie yelled at him. And…

Not here to hurt, I swear. Dustin invited me. He’s like my little brother. I’m deaf - sorry couldn’t hear you talking. I’ve seen you around, and I think you’re pretty cool. I’ve never played DND before, but Dustin really loves it. Maybe I could-

That’s as far as it went. And man. Imagine the feeling of your heart sinking, dropping down past your stomach, through the ground itself before finally coming to a stop in the molten core of the earth. Imagine that, and you may experience a fraction of the almost instantaneous levels of guilt Eddie feels at that moment. All at once he thinks of how Steve had looked at him after he first got his attention. He had smiled. Fucking grinned. He was happy to see him. Happy to be there. Eager to see what Hellfire was all about. Eager to learn.

And Eddie had just taken that happiness, that earnest interest, and stomped on it. Crushed it utterly beneath his sneakers as if it were a cigarette butt.

The other guys start filing in. Including Dustin. But before he can say anything (maybe to ask where Steve is, and why the hell does Eddie have his notepad), Eddie shoves past them out the door.

“Eddie, what-“ Jeff starts.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie calls over his shoulder as he quickly makes his way outside. Just in time to see Steve’s car speeding out of the parking lot. He curses, loud enough that a few students still milling about jump at the unexpected noise. Eddie doesn’t care. He messed up. He really fucking messed up, didn’t he?

He makes it up to Steve eventually. It takes time, of course; Steve’s trust is a hard thing to earn even on a good day, but after that first encounter? They’re not just starting at zero; they’re practically starting at -1000. He starts small. Little exchanges here and there. Usually with Dustin (or, occasionally, Steve’s best friend Robin, who looks at Eddie like she would flay him alive if Steve gave her the word) acting as a sort of buffer. It takes almost half a dozen of these group encounters before Steve says (writes) a single word to him, and even then it’s perfunctory. Cold. Simple. And it definitely hurts, just a little, especially since Eddie’s crush that he’s had on Steve since freshman year has been steadily growing with every exchange they have. As monosyllabic (if even syllabic at all) as they tend to be on Steve’s part. But every time he feels that hurt, Eddie thinks of how Steve had looked at him when he left the club that day. How sad and angry and frustrated. And he pushes his own (tiny, inconsequential by comparison) hurt aside. I can do more, he thinks.

One day, he manages to corner Steve on his own, without Dustin or Robin. Steve is annoyed - he still gets that sinking feeling of hurt whenever he’s with Eddie (which is enhanced (terribly so) by the stupid crush he has), and immediately pulls out his notepad. Starts writing on it. Something simple and to the point. Leave Me Alone. Or maybe Go Away. He gets as far as the first word before he realizes that Eddie isn’t talking. Not aloud, anyway. No, he’s signing. A bit clumsily, and a few of the words are wrong but close enough to understand. One sign is chief among them, though.

I’m sorry.

And in that moment, maybe, it hits home for Steve that Eddie really means it. Means it enough to try and learn an entirely new language to meet Steve where he is. He looks in Eddie’s eyes and he can see the guilt and shame swimming there. The hurt is still in him, that’s not going away with one apology (though this isn’t the first one Eddie has given him, of course), but still. Steve scratches out what he had been writing in favor of something else. After a second, he hands Eddie the paper.

I can’t forgive you. Not yet. You really hurt me. But thank you. When did you start learning to sign?

He sees Eddie’s eyes get a little watery as he reads, but then he’s handed back the notepad. He had thought that Eddie might take the easier route and just write it down, but no. Instead, with his hands free, Eddie continues signing.

A couple days ago. Stayed up all night. His cheeks were darkening. Blushing in shame at his rudimentary skills. Bad at it. Sorry.

And maybe it’s just because Eddie is one of only a handful of people Steve has met that have taken it upon themselves to learn sign, or maybe it’s that damn crush he can’t seem to lose, but Steve shakes his head. No, he signs, trying to keep it simple. Good.

Eddie looks away, signing Bad again. Steve touches his hand, the first point of actual physical contact they’ve had since that day at the Hellfire Club. Their eyes meet, and Steve signs, with as much emphasis as he can, GOOD. And then, Thank You.

Eddie looks down, suddenly feeling oddly shy. He’s still blushing but he also can’t help but smile. There’s the ghost of a dimple on his cheek, making Steve’s heart give a weak little flutter.

You’re welcome, Eddie signs.

After a long moment, Steve writes something down. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Eddie with signs yet. Not to mention that he doesn’t know how deep his (apparently only days-old) knowledge base goes. Best to go easy on him.

Maybe we could… start over?

He holds it up for Eddie to read, face a picture of inquisitive hope. The other boy nods, starts trying to sign, but gets frustrated rather quickly before holding out his hand for the notepad. Steve chuckles and hands it over, not missing the way Eddie’s blush deepens even further at the sound he probably made. Maybe his crush isn’t as one-sided as he’d been thinking.

Yes! Absolutely! If we are, then consider this your “first” official invitation to the Hellfire Club. Today, after school. (There’s a “I” here but it’s scribbled out) We would love to have you there.

I’ll be there, Steve writes. And, after Eddie reads it, he makes sure to get the other boy’s attention before he slowly signs the same thing. I’ll be there.

#stranger things #Steddie #my stuff #writing is hard #rooster’s thinky thoughts #deaf steve harrington #mean eddie munson #miscommunication #angst #and then they fell in love?#yup #they definitely did #lol

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gabetheunknown · 10 months

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@after-the-end-times

Ah, there it is! I saw a post like this the other day and I could not, for the life of me find it back, so I'm glad I get to share my thoughts about this after all (not that anything would've stopped me) Prepare for the essay, I never keep things short!

The Rockrose and the Thistle, is in my opinion a love song of sorts, but a different kind of love song that Extraordinary Things is, focused on the first part of it. Both songs are very similar in more ways than just recurring notes. Both songs are written in Dminor. (wheras Extraordinary Things has Minor Melodic elements that raises the 6th note to create the G major chord he plays when he sings the lyrics ‘extraordinary things’ and sings an A on top which sounds really pretty and immediately caught my ear)

The notes everyone is referring to are in the intro of Extraordinary Things, D C D E F E F G A B♭ A G A (I put it on a scale because I can and I’m a nerd. I also love the harmonies)

And it doesn’t just come back in the Rockrose and the Thistle, there’s two other songs written in Dminor in the Horror and the Wild and that is The Horror and the Wild, where the repetition of these tones are beautifully audible in Madeleine’s ‘You are the son of every dressing up box’ and Farewell Wanderlust, where they immediately accentuate that B♭ (which is the 6th note of the Dminor scale) in instrumentals. In Farewell Wanderlust they also play with more chromatic elements as they add a flat second note and a flat seven. The use of chromatic elements (half note distances) isn’t new for Joey and Madeleine and in my opinion it just adds a lot to the musicality of it all, it’s clever, it immediately catches my ear, it’s subtle things like that that make me keep coming back to their music. Rather than a melodic minor scale, Joey could’ve just added that half note distance to add a major G chord to his scale, because the use of major chords in minor scales is just chef’s kiss in my musical opinion, especially in combination with the words he sings. The notes he uses are not uncharacteristic for Joey’s music.

NOW LISTEN, I LOVE this ask because it means I can break down every aspect of what I love about Joey’s singing and what different things I love about Jaskier’s singing. Because oh my god the TALENT, to still make people go ‘wait I just found out that Joey Batey sings both in the Amazing Devil and as Jaskier in the Witcher’ to this day astonishes me and I’m never surprised when someone stumbles upon that realization. The breathiness he uses on his voice in both the Rockrose and the Thistle (and more TAD songs) and Extraordinary Things blows my mind. But there’s a difference to the way he uses it in both songs, let me try to explain. He sings with an aspirated voice (Which means to sing with a breathy voice) in The Rockrose and the Thistle, but in Extraordinary Things, it feels like sometimes he is just breathless and it’s so beautiful and small and soft and intimate, considering the words he’s singing. We, as singers at the conservatory, were taught to make our breaths as inaudible as possible, to remove as much breath from our voices as possible, when singing on record. So needless to say it is a DELIGHT to hear Joey just put his whole heart and soul into every breath he takes, he’s considerate of every syllable, the volume of his voice, the clearness or lack thereof, the shakiness of his breaths fucking kill me dead… ALSO what astonishes me the most about the difference between his TAD songs and his Jaskier songs is the change in vibrato. Jaskier uses more vibrato in his voice than Joey does in the Amazing Devil and I go INSANE about that because my teachers have always said that vibrato is a hard thing to control and requires a lot of training and he’s just out there, mending it to his will as if it is no big deal, like :-) King? I’m jealous, hello?

I’ve nothing else to say about this for now (lies) it’s already become a full on essay, so I hope this satisfies your needs for now lmao

#yike #lmao laughing at myself wtf is wrong with me #also I was almost finished typing this when I clicked on something and everything was fucking gone lol #'draft saved' lies #bitch where #I hope this answers your questions :-)#gabe replies #joey batey #madeleine hyland #the amazing devil #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher spoilers #music #gabe yells #quite a bit #extraordinary things

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intplayboy · 1 year

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TOUCH - MAFIA BTS OT7 X READER [ONE]

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summary: you have finally escaped the filthy jail you were made to grow up in as a guinea pig. on your way out, you bump into two members of south korea's most infamous mafia gang. stunned by the rather intriguing encounter with you, the younger one decides to bring you back to their home base in secret, only to have their plan foiled when the rest of the gang catches them red handed and the entire group unanimously decides what to do with the strange girl, which is you.

pairings: mafia bts ot7 x experimented human female reader

warnings: mentions of blood, verbal harassment, gun, and swearing.

word count: 6,933 (decided to combine two chapters from wattpad)

tags list: @juju-227592, @drunkzseok, @yourgirlcin, @babybunli, @xanny91, @bibetsa, @borahae-reads, @lalavione1309, @luvsbngtn, @tetehearts, @singukieee, @serendididy, @quixoticbittersweet, @iriaachan, @jksisbunntboy, @missseoulite (the tags that are strikethrough could not be tagged)

masterpost | intro + characters | two

copyright © 2022 by kumiko. all rights reserved. my works or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without express written permission from me except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

He speeds down the vacant corridors till he comes to a halt in front of her room. Well, that's what he likes to call it. Everyone knows it's more like a prison cell for you.

Within the 10 by 10-foot concrete box, there were no windows and only a single bed, a toilet, and a sink next to it. He swipes his key card quickly, unlocking the automated steel door. And as soon as it slides open, he rushes over to your sleeping body.

When he gently jerks you awake, your eyes flickered open. You glance about frantically till your gaze is drawn to him.

"It's okay, it's okay. It's just me." He coos at you quietly.

He gulps before speaking. "Listen, we don't have a lot of time."

You can only stare at him, as if asking for an explanation wordlessly, given your speech impediment.

"You're in danger, but I'm going to get you out of here. Y-Your father is taking things too far..."

"...You don't deserve any of this, you're supposed to live a normal life. And now is the time to do so." He digs into his pocket and pulls out a purple pendant chain necklace.

He stretches out his hands to your neck, causing you to flinch. "Don't worry, it won't hurt you."

You comply, allowing him to place the necklace around your neck. "Do not take this off, no matter what."

"Do you understand?" He locks his gaze with you. You nod, and although you can't say much, you can comprehend most sentences.

"Good. Let's go." He says as he gently grasps your hand and pulls you out of the grim box.

You both rushed through the halls, making a few different turns, just like he did earlier. "In about three minutes, they will check your room and the alarms will go off."

The pair of you stopped in front of another door. His personal lab, it was like his happy place, which was sickening. You step back, shaking your head at him, recognizing that door all too well.

As soon as he turns around and sees your reaction, his face softens. "Appa isn't in there. Don't worry, this is the only way out."

"I will never hurt you. Do you trust me?" He extends his hand once again.

You glance at his face, then at his hand, briefly, with hesitancy, before clutching it. The corner of his lips tugs upwards slightly, and he walks inside the room without hesitation.

The alarm goes off less than a second after he shuts the door behind him. You quickly curl into a ball, covering your ears, overwhelmed with fright and confusion.

He grabbed your shoulders and shakes you out of your distress, knowing you don't have much time left. "You've got to go now!"

You look up at him, tears brimming in your purple glowing eyes.

He sighs in guilt. "Stay here for a second." He sprints up to a single metal shelf, pushing it aside, revealing a small vent.

You notice the metal vent and tilt your head in curiosity. He swiftly turns around and approaches you. "You need to crawl in there. Continue straight until you see light at the opposite end."

"Kick the metal as hard as you can, and after you're out, run as far as you can away from here."

"Run until you see large buildings all around you and other people walking about like you." He explains.

You nod. "Okay."

"Repeat what I said."

"Crawl until I see light... Kick... Run far, look buildings... And people, like me...?" You reply.

"Good." He breaks off the metal and leads you inside. As you begin to crawl, voices can be heard outside the lab's door.

He panics and scrambles the metal frame onto the vent outlet. "Go!"

You watch for a minute while he covers the vent with the metal shelf from earlier, hearing the hammering against the door.

Fearing that they would find you, you begin crawling farther down the vent as he instructed. You soon found the light at the other end.

You shifted your body so that your legs are in front of you, recalling his words to yourself. After a forceful kick, you finally exit and run.

The words echo in your head, along with the emotions they evoked.

Run as far as you can...

Large buildings...

People... Like you...

After a time, you peer behind you, seeing the lab you grew up in from birth, gradually shrinking in your vision. You never understood why you had to do what Appa told you to do, and you never liked any of it.

But you couldn't resist because every time you tried, the consequences were worse.

Everything that passed you by was unfamiliar to you, and your interest in the outside world only grew. Were there people like you truly out there?

After an hour or two, you find yourself on the busy road's sidewalk, crowded with cars. Of course, you had no idea what it was called. Everything you looked at, whether it was vehicles zooming by you, birds flying in the sky, people strolling, dogs and cats walking with their owners, or green trees and other greenery, piqued your interest.

You raised your eyes to the large lettering mounted on the concrete bridge. You struggle to read it, your brow furrowed in concentration. "S-Seoul we-elcoome... you."

Another half-hour has passed, and you're now surrounded by the city life of Seoul. Large buildings all around, and people like you crowding the city streets, just as he said.

But this quickly became an issue since he forgot to consider that you had never interacted with so many people in your life, let alone be surrounded by thousands at one time.

Seoul was known for its congested sidewalks, where practically everyone walked with little personal space. Too often people brush up against each other, even collide, and don't even realize it.

As the panic in you slowly start to build up, people around you gave you weird looks while you continued to wander in the new environment you had discovered. But who wouldn't? A young girl, barefooted and clothed in nothing but a blue hospital gown and messy hair, was roaming around their beautiful metropolis.

You then suddenly sensed a bad aura, something bad was happening to someone. It was a result of all of your trials and experiments, that you're able to distinguish between bad and good emotions.

Although you couldn't express it properly in your own words, for obvious reasons, you were aware of what they were and the various outcomes that may come from them. But, of course, you still had a lot to learn, especially since you're in a foreign territory.

Following the negative energy, you begin to cross the road mindlessly, and as soon as you take a few steps, a loud car horn blares, followed by tires screeching.

As a man steps out of his car and violently shuts the door, you freeze in place. "What the hell lady?!"

"Are you crazy?!" He yells.

You look at him with a sweet yet blank expression on your face. "You... mad."

He scoffs. "The hell I am! What do you think?!"

"Can't you tell this isn't a crosswalk?!"

You tilt your head, a little perplexed. "Cross.. walk?"

His face turns red as he becomes increasingly agitated by you. "Are you fucking mental or something?!"

He clenches his jaw and inched closer to you.

"What the fuck are you even doing on the road?!" He spits in your face unknowingly, causing your head to recoil back at the contact.

You take a step back, uncomfortable with the man's close proximity. You returned your gaze to him, but it was quickly diverted by something else.

You fixed your eyes on a scene in which one man towers over another. It appears to be the source of the bad energy.

You walk past the enraged man in front of you without further thought, but your hair is immediately yanked backward. And you're thrown back, slamming onto the hard asphalt road, scraping your hand and elbow, making it bleed.

Inside a window-tinted black van, three men are sitting casually, as it moves. The chauffeur is dressed in a white long-sleeved dress shirt, a black suit vest, and a black bow tie. The two others sat together in the back.

If there was one thing you could say about these two men, it would be that they were really handsome and well dressed. They exuded such a powerful aura that simply being in the same room with them made you feel small and intimidated.

"I have a bad feeling about this... I don't think we've ever seen a case like this before." The man, clothed in a black leather suit jacket and graced with beautiful pink plump lips, rests his chin on his clasped hands.

Across from him, the man, who was dressed in a black long sleeve top with one sleeve cut off and a black harness over it, chuckles before taking a sip from his whiskey cup. "Well, it's not every day you find a bunch of missing medical supplies and laboratory equipment sold so abruptly and in large sums."

"But, why should it really concern us, Jimin Hyung?" He places his whiskey cup beside him.

Jimin directs his gaze at him. "Because it will leave innocent people suffering. Whoever is doing this is selfish, Jungkook."

Jungkook scoffs. "Welcome to the real world. Isn't this something we're used to?"

"That's not the point-" He sighs exasperatedly. He was about to open his mouth again when the van violently braked.

Since the pair wore no seatbelts, the jolt sent them sideways, landing on the floor of the van.

Jimin glares upfront. "What the fuck was that?!"

The chauffeur flinches as he realizes he's being addressed. "I-I'm sorry, sir, but s-someone suddenly stopped in front of us."

Moments later, all three of them heard muffled yelling from outside. Jungkook and Jimin exchanged a brief glance before the man in the leather suit jacket stood up and exited the vehicle.

"Wait- Mr. Park! I don't think-"

Jungkook flashed him a piercing stare that made the poor man gulp. "Just watch over the car." He then leaves and follows his Hyung.

The man who flung you on the asphalt is now looming above you. Fear began to set in, and your eyes glowed purple as he watched you steadily sit up, curiously putting your hands into view.

You start to self-heal yourself, seeing the blood spots leaking from your wounded skin. The man's eyes widen as he notices the changed form in your eyes.

"What the...?" He muttered, shifting back slightly.

His brows furrowed. "What the fuck! Y-you're a fucking freak!"

"She's a goddamn freak!" He shouts, pointing at you, drawing the attention of nearby onlookers.

Your eyes return to normal when your injuries completely healed, feeling profoundly confused by his comments. "... Freak...?"

"Did anyone see that! H-her eyes changed colors, s-she's a monster!" He looks around, as people slowly gathered around them.

You still sit there with her head tilted and the same innocent but vacant expression on your face. "What's.. a monster...?"

The man gave you a disgusted yet frustrated look. "You! That's exactly what you are!" He then rushes forward, almost grabbing you, causing you to flinch again from his sudden movements.

But before he could reach you, he's forcibly pushed back, causing him to stagger backward.

"What the hell?!" He regains his composure, finally focusing his gaze on the stranger who stopped him.

"I think you've done enough." The voice was smooth yet frighteningly authoritative.

"Who do you think you-" The man tries to fire back, but the stranger who pushed him only raises his brow as if daring him to finish his sentence.

That's when it dawned on him. This is a man he should not mess with. Casanova... One of seven members of their country's most notorious mafia gang.

"You know- It's one thing to raise your voice at a woman, but it's another thing to try put your hands on one. Especially an innocent one." He gives him a menacing stare.

The man gulps, struggling to maintain eye contact. "She's the one who walked into a busy road! She shouldn't be here in the first place!"

Before Jimin could respond, the man in front of him attempts to rush past him, chasing after you, who suddenly stands up and moves towards the scene you saw earlier. "Hey! Where do you think you're going, lady?!"

Jimin rolled his eyes and jerks the man back from his collar. "And where do you think you're going?"

The leather-suited man casts a sidelong glance at his dongsaeng. "Delta, go after her."

The dongsaeng obeyed him with a silent nod, leaving the two men on the road. Jimin then shifts his attention back to the man in front of him. "There is no excuse for abusing a helpless young woman. Shall I teach you a lesson?"

He smirks wickedly, sending chills down the man's spine. His expression changes to one of terror, and he trembles slightly when he realizes he has no way out. That's because no one dares to challenge the Bangtan Boys. Their business is their business, and no one is allowed to get in the way. Not even the police.

The man looks around desperately for anybody who is willing to help him. But, unfortunately, there isn't anyone. Nobody wants to, therefore they turn a blind eye to the situation.

Jimin laughs cynically. "No one will help you. You brought this on yourself."

"Come to think of it, I was just having a stressful day... But it appears that I've found a way to relieve my stress." He began taking perilous steps towards the defenseless man, while he in exchange, moves back.

Meanwhile, Jungkook jogs after the nameless young woman, which is you, being only a couple of feet behind. "Hey! Girl in the blue gown!"

You, as if in a trance, ignore Jungkook's calls and continues to travel toward the negative source you were sensing.

The unknown man, who towers over the other, slams him against a brick wall. At the same time, Jungkook had finally caught up to you, and the guy draws a gun.

You yell, overwhelmed by the negative energy. "No!"

The man catches sight of you, and then...

BANG!...

Your eyes are pressed tight, and your hands are covering your ears. You reopen your eyes to find a figure covering you. It's almost as though it's shielding you...

You raised your head, your gaze fixed on the stranger. Although you didn't know the words, he looked very appealing. Large doe eyes with a defined face structure and jawline.

He breathes. "Are you... all right?"

You merely stare at him, most likely still processing what just happened and recuperating from the gunshot's ample noise.

The odd thing was that there was no blood. No, none of them was covered in blood, but when you peered over the stranger's shoulder, you noticed the unfortunate victim on the ground, covered in his own blood.

The perpetrator fled the scene as soon as he pulled the trigger. He must have recognized the man who accompanied you and decided it was best to do what he needed to do and get out of there.

But it will all be in vain since Jungkook has a remarkable memory, having a clear image of the man, and will soon find him.

Your eyes widen at the sight, sensing the emptiness radiating from the victim. "No..."

You brush by him, not in an impolite manner, of course. The man shallowly breathes, noticing your petite figure approaching him. "Help... Ple-Please..."

"It hurts so much, I don't want to die this way." He whimpers.

The wounded man appears to be in his mid-forties, with gray hair dispersed throughout his short dark locks. He also has some mature creases on his forehead.

"It hurts?" You say.

He gives a faint nod. "Help me..."

You crouch next to him, your eyes glowing, signaling you're about to use your special abilities. In fright, he locks his vision on your brilliant violet eyes, gasping and backing away. "W-What are you...?"

You frown a little. "I won't hurt- I help..."

"I promise it won't hurt." You softly reassure him.

He stares at you briefly. "Okay."

Jungkook, on the other hand, quietly observes as you delicately cover the man's gunshot wound with your hand.

His pupils dilate as he watches the veins surrounding the man's wound and on your hand glow purple. It looked like something out of a sci-fi film.

What the fuck is happening right now? He thought.

Tears dropped from your eyes, as you transfer his pain into herself from feeling the same sharp burning sensation. You chew on your lower lip, suppressing your pained groans, for a few more excruciating seconds before pulling your hand away from him. "D-does it hurt?"

He smiles with bloodied lips. "No. T-thank you..."

"I don't know how you did it, but thank you." He exhales a weak breath as his eyes slowly shut. "You know... You kind of remind me of her..."

"Her?"

"Yeah, my Areum..." And with that, his eyes finally closed.

"A-Areum?" You muttered, but he didn't respond.

Your brow scrunched as you placed her bloodied hands on the motionless body. "Ya- Wake up."

You try to shake him awake, but it is futile. Jungkook sighs and approaches you from behind. "He's gone."

You pause, acknowledging him. "But he's here."

"That's not what I meant. He's dead, which means he's no longer alive." He explained bluntly.

Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder as you drop your hands, still staring at the dead man. "Come on. The police will find him, and your presence will make matters worse." More like my presence, but there's no time for an explanation for that.

"His family will be contacted, and he won't be alone."

You raise your eyes to Jungkook. "What is... family...?"

"What?" He raised his brows.

"You said..." You point at him. "...Family... What is family?"

Something is certainly not right here. First, she causes a road rage, then walks into a crime scene, and she touches a man with glowing purple veins, lastly, she has no idea what family is.

So many thoughts raced through his head, but one thing he was certain of was that the girl in front of him was no ordinary girl. Therefore, he made the conscious decision to take you with him.

You glanced at him, waiting for an answer, but he is cut off by the sound of his phone buzzing.

He quickly reaches inside his pants pocket and takes out his phone. "Hello?"

"I'm all finished here. Where are you and the h/c colored girl?" Jimin spoke.

He returns your gaze. "We're nearby. We'll be there in two." He then hangs up the phone and lowers himself to your level.

"You're gonna have to come with me, little girl." He commanded.

You blink. "Okay."

Jungkook gets baffled by your instant cooperation. That was easy... Maybe too easy. He makes a mental note to keep a close eye on you. He then pulled you by the hand and led you back to their black van.

"Well, hello there." Jimin greets you charmingly as you enter the van with Jungkook.

You look up at him. "H-Hello..."

Jungkook walks up to the chauffeur. "Continue our way home, we have urgent matters to discuss."

He then returns to the two others in the back, with Jimin raising his brow at him. "What is this 'urgent matters' you speak of?"

"Her." Jungkook nods his head at you.

Jimin then shifts his eyes to you. "What about her? Is she from a mental asylum or something?"

"Who knows... but I don't think she's human." He whispered the last part.

"What are you talking about? She looks pretty human to me." Jimin retorts with a scrunched face.

Jungkook sighs. "I'll explain it later when we get home."

"Are you sure it's a good idea to bring this girl home?" Jimin turns to Jungkook as they exit the van, followed by the silent blue gown-clad girl, you.

"What if she's psycho and attacks us?"

Jungkook scoffs at his hyung's nonsense, rolling his eyes. "We're literally trained mafia gangsters, Hyung. Do you honestly believe she'll be able to lay a hand on us?"

"But we could never lay a hand on a woman. It's just against our moral code." Jimin crosses his arms.

"True, but if she attacks me without reason and with the intent to seriously harm me, I will fight back. I'm telling you that." Jungkook replied.

"And no one can really stop us since we live in the most remote location."

Jimin scrunches his face in uncertainty. "Well— Except for hyungs." He then checks his watch. "Which, by the way, will arrive home in about two hours, so we better be quick."

"Yeah, yeah."

Jungkook then pivots to face you. "Hey. Follow us, okay? Don't touch anything."

"You got it." He raised his brows.

You blink and silently nod. Jimin watches the pair's interaction. "At least she's obedient."

Jungkook responds with a shrug. The two men and you then entered the house, or mansion, as we shall call it, and were immediately greeted by its luxurious design. The exceptionally high ceiling, the rich modern yet simple layout, and the decorations span the vast entryway that leads to the living room.

"Let's keep her in your room while we talk in here." Jungkook proposed.

Jimin's eyes bulged. "Why my room?! Why not your room!"

"Because there are fewer things that could break. Seriously, your room is so minimalistic."

"Besides, it's the closest to the stairway, so she'll be able to get down faster when it's time to leave." Jungkook elaborated.

Jimin sighs defeatedly as he clicks his tongue. "Fine, this better be worth it. You owe me Jeon Jungkook."

Jungkook gives his hyung a not-so-innocent smile. Jimin then looks at the girl, scanning her with his eyes up and down. "First, she needs to get cleaned up. She's not going to be lounging on my furniture like that."

"My goodness, you sound like Jin." Jimin narrows his eyes in response to the dongsaeng's complaint.

"Let's get this over with." He unexpectedly grabs your elbow, making you flinch and look up at him.

"I won't hurt you." He reassures you, then softly pulls you again.

As soon as you three enter the older male's room, you instantly scan your surroundings. Looked at everything with awe. Your gaze was soon drawn to the 98-inch 8k flatscreen tv. You approach it with a curious tilt of your head.

The men watch you approach it quietly, noticing your dim reflection against the barren black screen. You extend your hand and poke at your reflection. "Is this... me?"

They exchanged a brief glance before Jungkook spoke. "Yes, that is you. You're a mess."

"Do you know what that thing is?" Jimin asked.

You turn your head at him. "It's me."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm referring to this large black box."

You pout slightly, not understanding what he's saying, leaving the two men dumbfounded by your lack of knowledge of one of the most basic items in modern society. "I-It's a tv. It essentially displays moving images and emits sounds according to what is displayed on the screen."

He reaches for the black remote that had been carelessly tossed on the edge of his bed. "I'll show you."

"Should I put on a kids show?" Jimin whispers to the younger one.

"It looks like she'd understand that better." Jungkook answers.

Jimin turned on the television, completely unaware that his volume was set ridiculously high. The abrupt roaring audio triggers you to startle and curl up into yourself, shielding your ears, like you did at the lab.

That's when you remembered the deafening sirens and the hammering on the door during her escape merely hours earlier. Your eyes are tightly clenched as Jimin and Jungkook panics at your reaction.

"Turn it off!" Jungkook screams as Jimin fumbles with the remote.

"Yeah- I'm trying!" He shouts back, finally turning it off.

The dongsaeng sighs deeply in embarrassment. "Why the hell do you have your tv so loud?"

"O-our rooms are far apart, it wasn't like it disturbed any of you guys." He stutters.

Jungkook shook his head in disappointment, then shifted his gaze to the petite girl curled on the floor. He frowns softly, questioning what happened to this you before they all met to make you so clueless about everything and react so badly.

Jimin looks at you with a guilty expression. Meanwhile, Jungkook quietly approaches you and hesitantly touches your shoulder, to bring you out of your fright. You give him a solemn face while unconsciously flashing your vibrant purple eyes at them.

Jimin's jaw drops at the sight, finally recognizing what he meant when he said you're not ordinary.

"What the actual fuck?!" He exclaims, causing Jungkook's head to snap at the curse word. "Dude..."

You scrunch your eyebrows. "Fuck?"

Jungkook returns his sight to her. "Don't say that, he didn't mean to say that."

The younger one glares at his hyung, who smiles bashfully. "Oops-? It's fine, she doesn't know what it means."

"Now, do you see what I meant?"

"Yes, we have a lot to talk about. This is very— fascinating..."

"But, once again, let's get her cleaned up." While Jungkook helps you to your feet, Jimin walks up to his drawer and brings out an old sweatshirt and shorts that are too small for him.

Jimin then pulls the very bottom drawer, which is filled with... female underclothes...

Jungkook grimaces in disgust. "Are you really going to give her your past hook-ups' underwear?"

Jimin rolls his eyes. "They're clean."

"Yeah but still-"

The two men led you to Jimin's bathroom, while the oldest one held the folded clothing."This is the bathroom. You need to shower and change into these clothes—"

Jimin places the stacked clothes on the counter. You stared blankly at the folded garments. "You'll have to undress first."

Understanding his words but not the appropriate timing, you grasp the hem of your robe and begin lifting it.

Their eyes widen at your quick compliance. "WAIT WAIT WAIT-"

You froze in place, perplexed by their reactions. Jimin chuckles shyly. "Once this door is closed, you can start to undress."

He then shuts the door as the boys step out.

‎

After a good fifteen minutes, you emerged from the bathroom. All dressed in Jimin's oversized hoodie, which made you look even smaller than you already were, and shorts that ended just above your knees.

Jungkook snorts at your look. "Cute."

Jimin clears his throat. "We'll be talking downstairs, you stay here and try not to break anything, okay?"

You nod in response, and the two exit the room.

"Explain." As they sat across from each other on the couch, Jimin locked eyes with Jungkook.

Jungkook then goes on to explain what happened earlier, when he followed after you, who managed to stumble upon an active homicide scene. And how you approached the poor man who had been shot and was pleading for help because he was in pain, then did whatever you did which caused your veins to glow purple, much like your eyes.

"I'm guessing she took away his pain. I did overhear him say that he was no longer in pain."

He chuckles dryly. "This may sound strange, but what if she escaped from something? Like the movie, The Witch."

The elder remained silent, soaking in the newfound information and evaluating the bizarre situation they had found themselves in. "So... you're saying she has these man-made special abilities?"

"Yes! Exactly-"

"Well, it seems sensible, but let's not go too far ahead of ourselves." Jimin answers.

The younger scoffs. "Oh, come on- what other explanation could there be for all of this? You witnessed it for yourself! Have you ever met anyone else who possesses glowing purple eyes?"

"I guess you're right. But if that's the case then we should keep a close eye on her. She could be dangerous."

"Dangerous? So far, she seems to be quite harmless." Jungkook held an amusing expression.

Jimin crossed his arms. "Yeah, for now. If what you say is true, who knows the extent or what additional 'abilities' she has."

Suddenly, a loud motorcycle engine roars, and they exchange nervous glances. "Shit."

"Didn't you say they wouldn't be home for another hour?!"

"I'm just as surprised as you are! I didn't know they'll come home early!"

"What should we do?" Jungkook says.

"Nothing. They'll be there in a second; let's just pray she's okay in there."

Not long after, the front door opens, revealing four other males. As soon as the group entered the mansion, they both flashed an 'innocent' smile. "Taehyung-ah-- Hyungs!"

"You guys are home early." Jimin nudges Jungkook.

A man with a freckle on the tip of his nose combs his parched hair. "Yeah, the meet-up was a complete bust."

His remark was met with frowns. "What happened, Yoongi-hyung?"

The man with a long scar lined down his right eye laughs snarkily. "We were ambushed, and Namjoon was injured as a result."

"What?!" Jungkook exclaims. "Is he okay?!"

"Yeah, he's fine. I took him to the clinic house, where Sun-Woo is currently treating him." A man with broad shoulders and spectacle lens answered.

"They're gonna regret that." Jimin's expression darkens.

The man with platinum blonde hair smirks mischievously. "They certainly will."

While you wait for the two strangers, you explore Jimin's opulent room, strolling from corner to corner, as your eyes are captivated by all of the foreign furnishings. Somehow, her attention was caught by a gleaming black item. Being intrigued by it, you found yourself drawn to it.

The shiny black object turned out to be a 10mm long-range handgun. you put it out in front of you, not realizing what it is but nevertheless fascinated by it. You thoughtlessly take a detailed look and fiddle with it.

You spin and flip it around several times, shaking it near your ear, desperately trying to figure out what it is.

You then smack it a few times against your palm, wrapping your hand around the handle and trigger. As you grew increasingly frustrated with the object, you unintentionally squeezed the trigger.

The gunshot rang, and the bullet flew through the room and out the window, shattering the glass. Scared by the unexpected gunshot and the force of the pistol, you yelp and stumble backward, tripping over the protruding end of a rug and knocking down the flower vase that sat on the glass coffee table. ‎

‎

The six reunited men in the living room were completely immersed in their "business" discussion when glass shattering and a gunshot broke out, interrupting their conversation.

Jimin and Jungkook start to perspire, anxious about the outcome. The other four males shared perplexed looks before becoming serious.

"What was that." Yoongi spoke passively.

"Did someone just break in?" Hoseok questioned. They all rose up, realizing the potential threat to them.

Taehyung kept his gaze fixed on the top of the stairs. "Whatever or whoever that was, chose the wrong house."

"It sounds like it came from Jimin's room." Jin comments.

Hoseok looks at Jimin. "Were you expecting someone Jimin?" The addressed man kept silent, which the others took as an affirmation.

Yoongi reaches behind him and draws out his handgun, while the others follow him. "Formation boys."

Jimin and Jungkook trail behind uneasily. They approach Jimin's door with vigilance, and Yoongi extends his hand, twisting the doorknob and then violently slamming the door open.

He immediately aimed his gun toward the "intruder" in the room, joined by the rest of the members. "Who are you?! Don't move!"

Jungkook's eyes widened as he rushed forward to block Yoongi. "Wait! Don't shoot!"

"What the hell, Jungkook?!" Yoongi's brow pinched. "What are you doing?"

Jimin comes forward as well, seeing the scene in front of them. You sat on the floor, knees bent against your chest, an arm wrapped across your knees, and the other hand lying on the floor next to you, staring frightened at the pistol that had been dropped.

"What did you do?! Are you okay!" Jimin pulls you from your trance. You looked at him with guilty eyes, not knowing what to say, causing Jimin to sigh. "You're not bleeding which I take is a good sign."

"Jimin, is this another one of your... toys?" Jin asked. "She's cute, almost innocent-looking. It's hard to believe you'd bring a girl like her home."

He shook his head. "No, Jungkook and I just kinda found her on our way home."

Yoongi's expression stays hostile. "So the two of you brought home a random girl?"

"There's a reasonable explanation to this." Jungkook begins, and Yoongi arches a single brow in return. "Which is?"

"It'll be difficult to believe based on words alone, you all will have to see it for yourselves first."

"I-I'm s-sorry." A tiny voice abruptly sounded, bringing all six pairs of eyes to you.

"It's fine." Jimin responds, and Taehyung's face lights up. "How adorable!"

He eagerly approaches you, crouching to your level. "What's your name, cutie?"

You sway your head. "Name? What is name?"

As Taehyung chuckles awkwardly, they all blink in confusion at your answer. "When you want someone's attention, you call them by their name. For instance, my name is Taehyung. So you call me Taehyung."

"So, what is your name? What do people call you?" Taehyung asks again.

After hearing his explanation, you finally nod in understanding. "What they call me?" He nods with a lip grin.

You then grab the ends of Jimin's sweater and start to lift it, surprising everyone.

"YA!" Jimin and Jungkook both exclaimed.

You ignore their yells, just stopping to expose the burnt branded skin on your left lower abdomen.

You point at it. "0...0...7..." Then look at Taehyung and gesture to yourself. "Me. 0-0-7, me."

"Your name is a number?"

You gesture once more. "I'm 0....0...7."

He looks at Jimin and the others with a puzzled expression, as they do the same.

Feeling frustrated with the situation, Yoongi glares at Delta. "You'd best start talking, Jungkook, who the hell is she?"

"I swear you will understand better if you witness it first!" He pleads. "We need an injured person, like... Namjoon hyung!"

The elder narrows his eyes at him. "Excuse me?"

"I have been summoned?" A deep voice erupts from the doorway, revealing a bandaged man. Jungkook grabs Namjoon and walks over to the girl who is still seated on the floor.

"How come you left the clinic, Namjoon?" Hoseok inquired.

"I heard a gunshot and wanted to find out what it was about." He answers while being dragged by the youngest.

"Hey." Jungkook addresses you, compelling you to turn your head in his direction. "Look at him, he's hurt, just like the man we saw before."

You blink at the sight of Namjoon, sensing his injuries instantaneously. "He hurt."

"Yeah. Help him, like you help the man."

You stand up and walk up to them. You scan Namjoon for a moment before gazing at his face. "I will help."

Namjoon gives his dongsaeng a short side-eye while muttering. "Jungkook..."

"Just let her, I promise you guys."

The leader clears his throat. "I-I suppose you can help- whatever that means."

You bring one hand slowly to his face, gently cupping it, as the other goes to the bandaged wound. You pause, eyeing it. "Remove please..."

He looks down at the bandage. "Y-You want me to take it off?"

"Yes." You nod, and Namjoon obliges, making everyone cringe at the nasty cut. You pout as well but continue by tenderly placing your other hand over his bloody gash.

And, as usual, your eyes began to glow purple, signifying that you're exerting your "power" to heal their leader and absorb his pain. The veins around his wounds, as well as those on your hand, shone purple.

Their eyes enlarged in reaction to the peculiar girl, who reveals her extraordinary abilities.

"Holy shit."

"What the fuck..."

"How the hell..."

They all muttered. You let out an inaudible whimper, taking in all of Namjoon's pain. Once all his wounds had fully healed, you lock eyes with him and detach your hands from him.

No one speaks, everyone is speechless, completely taken aback by your act. It was something they'd never seen before, and now that they've seen it, hundreds of questions are racing through their heads. Starting with, "who exactly is this girl, and where did she come from?"

Yoongi, of course, is the first to act on it. He lunges at you, deathly gripping the sweatshirt collar. "Who are you! What did you do?!"

You look at him, terrified as if you had messed up the healing process that you had previously been ruthlessly trained to do. "I- helped-d..."

"D-Did I fail? Did I-I hurt h-him?" You then shift your now violet eyes to the others behind him. But Yoongi's hold never faltered, even when you trembled slightly in regard to him.

Another few moments of quietness passed, accompanied by Yoongi's heavy breathing, as his gaze fixed on you, like a predator on its prey.

But Jin eventually intervened. "That's enough, Yoongi. You're scaring her."

"She should be. Don't you remember what kind of reputation we have?" He hissed.

"It doesn't matter. She did nothing wrong." Jimin spoke up.

"They're right. I think she healed me, she really took the pain away. I don't how, and it's quite freaky." Namjoon said.

Yoongi still never loosened his hand, causing Namjoon to place his hand on his shoulder. "Let her go, Oranyan."

He clenches his jaw, reluctantly releasing your petite figure. Still filled with fear, you collapsed to the floor, bowing as if your life depended on it.

"I-I'm sorry! 007 be b-better tool next t-time. Please n-no punishment..." You beg, keeping your head down.

Taehyung frowns at your pleas while the other six men watched you, not knowing how to react to it.

He approaches you again. "Raise your head sweetie."

You lift your gaze to him with complete innocence, reminding Taehyung of his little sister that was once so close to him but now six feet under. "Don't worry, you've done well."

"Well, it seems like we have a lot to discuss right now. Let's leave her to calm down." Namjoon clapped his hands, grabbing their attention.

"Go ahead, Jungkook." Namjoon instructs as they all gathered in the living room. Just like he did with Jimin prior to their arrival, Delta recounts everything that occurred when encountering you that led them to bring you home.

"That's it." Jungkook concludes as everyone sits quietly as they process the new information.

"So far, I believe we can assume that she possesses some special abilities. One that was able to heal Namjoon Hyung's injuries." Jimin pitches in.

"This reminds me of the movie The Witch. Maybe she comes from research or medical facility that conducts strange experiments." Taehyung suggested.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "That sounds stupid, Taehyung, and this isn't a movie."

"No, but there aren't any other logical explanations." Jungkook quickly defends his two-year older hyung. "I also had the same idea, as I was explaining to Jimin hyung earlier."

"So, what are we going to do?" Hoseok inquires, looking aimlessly at the ground.

Namjoon's brows furrowed for a few moments before speaking. "There are far too many theories circulating, as well as unanswered questions. We need more information on this..."

"So what you're saying is, you want to keep the girl." Jin finishes his thought.

"Oh hell no-"

"There are too many variables, and who knows what will happen if she goes out on her own?" Jimin states.

Then Taehyung raises his hand. "I think she should stay. Plus she's cute too."

Jimin nudges him in the ribs, causing him to wince. "I too vote for her to stay."

"Then all in favor of the girl staying, raise your hand." Namjoon announces as he lifts his hand.

And, with the exception of one, all five other hands rose. The six pairs of eyes directs at the aforesaid man, who remained deafeningly silent and wore an annoyed face.

"Yoongi?" Namjoon calls out, making the man to huff. "What."

"It makes no difference whether I raise my hand or not; we all know how the majority votes." He answers sharply.

The leader's gaze lingered on him for a while until breaking eye contact. "Then it's settled she shall stay here."

Not a minute later, the scar-faced man storms out of the room, furious.

‎

masterpost | intro + characters | two

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anjelicawrites · 9 months

Text

Title: Between safety and need

Pairing: dom!Osferh x sub!reader x dom!Aemond Targaryen and all the combinations thereof.

NSFW, 18 + only please and specific warnings under the cut!

Warnings: smut, spanking, edging, nipple and clit clamp, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, p in v sex, double penetration, ass play, sex toys use, angst with a happy ending, sub dropping, Reader being a brat.

A/N: nonnie I am so sorry it took me so long to answer to this one!!! I hope you'll like it, even though it took me so long to write it!!!

There are days where you are a brat to get your lovers’ attention, others where it’s more of a ruse just because you feel playful like that. Today is neither of those, today you feel bothered by everything: the sound of the TV in the background, Aemond’s fingers on the keyboard, even the gentle snoring of the cats sounds like nails against a blackboard. You had tried all you could to drive the feeling away: shutting yourself in your own study, listening to your favorite podcast and going for a long walk in the countryside, to no avail; your own skin irks you to no end. The pinnacle of your irritation explodes when you and your lovers are in the living room while you try, unsuccessfully to read a book and you snap at Osferth

“Would you please stop making that sound?”

“I’m breathing?” he stares at you with big, surprised eyes

“Then stop! It’s irritating!”.

Usually he’s the one to take the situation in hand when you are like this, it surprises you to no end to feel Aemond’s hand on your neck, fingers curling gently to keep you in place.

“That’s enough, ñuha jorrāelagon, my love”

“Let go of me, Aemond Targaryen” you bite back

“No, I don’t think I will. You’ve been beyond heinous today. I am quite done with you and Osferth is as well”.

If you were less irked, you’d run away, because Aemond is deadly calm, which means you’ve managed to get on his last nerve. That rarely happens, he’s usually patient with you, even when anyone else would already be angry.

“You don’t tell me what to do!”.

Deaf as you are to everything, you don’t realize this is the worst thing to say. You start to realize the moment Aemond’s hand sneaks into your hair to grab the roots tight and pull your head back to look into your eyes.

“I think I will, since you are incapable of being yourself today”.

Aemond is rarely angry with you and even less times he’s expressed his emotions physically the way he’s doing now. Grabbing your hair like this is more of an Osferth move, in general, overpowering you this way is what your other lover usually does when you are being a brat, for Aemond to resort to this, it means you have truly overstepped.

You try to say something but Osferth gently puts a finger on your lips, calm and collected, the darkness of his anger pooling in his lovely eyes.

“Shh, I think you’ve talked enough for today. I know you want to say that you are sorry, but saying it just because now you realize you will be punished is meaningless. We’ll know when you are sorry”.

With that he lifts you over his shoulder, deaf to your grunting and to your fists against his strong back and heads to the bedroom. This is a curveball. Aemond doesn’t play as hard as you and Osferth sometimes do, it’s physically impossible for him to bear many of the things you two do; if he’s being part of this, what are they going to do to you?

You can literally feel the cogs in your head run faster and faster the closer the bedroom is, your brain creating scenarios upon scenarios, until your mind is a mess of images and ideas.

None too gently Osferth deposits you on the bed and orders you to stay put, in a tone that admits zero comebacks. You sit still, hands folded, eyes smoldering: you are not giving either of them the satisfaction of knowing how much this is off putting to you. You stare at them with an adversarial smile on your face, inward you wish to know what they are whispering, Osferth’s forehead against Aemond’s, one of his hands in his long strands.

The moment Aemond leaves you two, Osferth turns toward you, eyes dark and scanning your face.

“Stand up and undress - his voice is sharp - make it fast, you don’t want me to be halfway when Aemond comes back” he adds when you don’t move.

You recognize the tone, it’s his more dominant side that’s come out to play. You feel yourself being torn between following his command and brat out even more.

“You will get a spanking. Ten strikes because I am feeling nicer than you deserve - he says while sitting on the bed, legs spread - if Aemond comes back before I am done, you will have no orgasms for a week”.

The threat makes you undress quickly and lie on Osferth’s legs even quicker. When he threatens you with that, you know he will deliver and, because he plays dirty, he will use you thoroughly for his pleasure for the duration of the ban, trying to make you come, just so he can extend your punishment.

“You know you only have to be mad at yourself for this, right? I was going to be nice and look at what you are making me do. Count for me and say how grateful you are; if I like your tone I might not hit you that hard”.

The first slap lands on your ass and you bark out your instructions, the second and the third are so fast you can barely speak, by the fourth you feel the tears in your eyes. After the fifth, Osferth grabs your asscheek in a tight hold that makes you scream in pain and squirm in his lap.

“I wonder why you are making such a fuss about this. You are wet - he says, sticking two fingers in your cunt and curling them until you moan - a liar and a brat. I was too loose with my handling of you. Fear not, I will not make this mistake ever again, my love”.

He’s almost reached ten and you are already drooling on his tight, begging him for something you don’t know, pity, or maybe more pain until your brain stops working for a while.

You are not in subspace, yet, you are not fully yourself either, loose and weightless when Osferth grabs your hair, forcing your body into a kneeled position to kiss you roughly, his pent up anger and arousal owning you.

His hand is still in your hair when he tells you to sit on the bed again, to which you comply slowly, your limbs still feeling alien to you.

By the time Aemond arrives, you are more back into yourself, your arse stinging with every small movement you make against the cotton of the sheets, your bratty smirk back on your lips.

You are not sure Aemond took so long with whatever supplies he needed, because he couldn’t find them, or because he wanted to give you time to handle the first part of your punishment; whatever the reason, you tell him you are sorry, when he kneels between your spread legs.

“Are you, though, ñuha dāria, my queen?” he asks, his eye boring into yours.

You are and you aren’t. You’d still maintain that life irks you as of now, but maybe telling Osferth to stop breathing was a tad too much.

You know you should stay silent, because Aemond knows all that you are thinking right now: he’s terrifying when he gets like this and uses his analytical skills on you. If he weren’t so subby, he’d make a great dom, whatever those labels mean, your combined sexualities being more fluid than whatever word you use to describe yourselves.

“I thought so - he says, gently cupping your face in his warm hands - know that this brings me no pleasure”

“Are you sure about that?” Osferth kneels behind him, one hand on his cheek to turn his face towards him

“Maybe a little” he admits, his eye trained on you, before kissing Osferth with hunger.

You curl your fingers around the cotton of the sheets, unwilling to show your lovers how much you need them, just by seeing them kiss: you can feel the warmth expanding in your core, the wetness redoubling there and you bit your lower lip to stay quiet, as the kiss turns more physical, Aemond tumbling over Osferth, who just absorbs his weight with a moan, his hands going to his shoulders to make sure he’s not moving, their hips moving in tandem, until they have to separate, a thin tendril of spit connecting their red lips.

“Do you want to change plans?” Osferth asks, his hips jutting up teasingly and you’d call him a whore, lovingly, if the circumstances were different.

Aemond stares at him and then at you, a pensive uhm leaving his lips.

“Maybe another time?”

“Yeah, another punishment” Osferth answers, removing his t-shirt.

You get a second of respite, to try and find your feet, before your lovers sit flanking you on the bed, their hands proprietary on your skin, touching, pinching, scratching, until you moan, wanton.

“Lie back on the bed and let us play, pretty toy”

“Feel free to scream all you want, ñuha dāria and use your safeword, if you need to”.

You huff at that, as if you’d need to safeword your way out of a punishment.

“I’m letting that slide. Next time I’m not going to be so charitable” Osferth says, fingers pinching one nipple tight

“Yes sir - you blurt out, the pain zinging up and down your spine - I’m sorry sir”

“Still a brat, I see. That’s going to be a long punishment. We are going to have fun, you? Not so sure” he tells you, before showing you up the bed.

In the corner of your eyes, you see Aemond deposit on the bed the small chest where you all keep the toys. You had to hide the thing when Finan came over to help with putting together the new bed Osferth made and neither of you had the chance to use the contents ever since: you are fucked, you are so very fucked.

Your train of thoughts is cut short by their lips again, kissing paths of fire on your skin, sucking your breasts until you let out a shrill sound of pleasure when you feel fingers gently part your folds, Aemond delicately exploring you, curling his to massage your G-spot. You’d scream, but Osferth is kissing you, swallowing every single sound you make, one hand painfully clenching around one soft breast as you feel your orgasm approaching, cunt tightening around Aemond’s fingers. So close, so close, his pads delicious against that rough patch inside of you, you’re almost there, almost…

You tear your lips from Osferth’s when Aemond’s fingers leave you right before your orgasm. You stare at him with accusatory eyes, legs clenched together in the vain attempt to seize what he’s denied you.

“I’m so sorry, ñuha dāria - he says - this is still punishment”.

You groan when Osferth sucks your juices from Aemond’s fingers, his eyes boring into yours, challenging you to look away. He is so sensual, his pink tongue lapping Aemond’s long fingers, lips slowly sinking down their whole length, until they’ve bottomed out inside his greedy mouth and he moans, filthy and deep in his chest.

“Delicious - he eyes your cunt - I think I need to go to the source, though”.

With sure hands he moves your legs over his shoulders, keeping you at the mercy of his tongue and fingers, and he has none. He knows how to play you, knows how to twist his fingers just right, in tandem with Aemond’s lips on your breasts. He has to pin you on the bed when he starts writing the alphabet on your clit with his tongue, your legs kicking against his back, your torso arching with every sinful stroke, shrill screams of pleasure and torment escape your mouth, until he stops, again, right before you can come all over his face.

You try to clench your legs again in vain, your boys spreading them gently, eyeing your center like hungry wolves and you can do nothing but cover your face with your hands, as they descend upon you. You lose track of whose fingers are fucking you, whose tongue is lavishing your clit, whose teeth are gently nibbling there, until they don’t and fresh tears spill from your eyes.

“Shh, ñuha dōna, my sweet - Aemond gently cradles your body in his arms, letting you cry against his chest - shh”

“Please” you say, brokenly, your body a bundle of nerves

“Not yet - Osferth gently turns your body so you lie on your back, head on Aemond’s chest - not yet pretty toy”

“I’ve learnt my lesson, I promise”

“We know what’s best for you - he says, kissing your forehead - it’s not time yet”

“When it’s time, I promise it’s going to burn like a supernova, ñuha qēlos, my star”.

A tortured sound escapes your mouth when Osferth enters you, every ridge of his cock like fire against your aching walls. You wail at the pace he’s set, deep and rough pushes that you feel in your whole body, his hands leaving imprints on the soft skin of your tights, to keep you against his body, to grind against you with every push in. Aemond grabs your cheeks with one hand, opening your mouth to let a thin tendril of spit dribble there and you swallow unprompted, anything to show them you are being good, that you’ve learnt your lesson.

With a groan and a hand around his base, Osferth pulls out, making you scream when he turns you on your front, a hand in your hair to force you on your fours.

“Be good and open your mouth” he murmurs in your ear.

You do that, your tongue lolling out, which grants you a slap on your arse and a ‘good girl’.

Now it’s Aemond’s hands on your hips, pushing you back on his cock, until he’s seated inside of you, grinding until you scream, only to have Osferth’s cock push inside your mouth, your combined tastes making your arch in pleasure and curl like a vise around Aemond.

“Best cunt you’ve ever had, right?” Osferth says, cupping Aemond’s nape

“And mouth”

“Yeah”.

Like the good girl you can be, you cross your wrist on your lower back, to let them have full control on your body, and they do. While kissing over you, Osferth fucks your slack mouth brutally, one hand on your nape to keep your there, to slot himself in your throat until you kick your legs when the oxygen is not enough, his movements spurred on by the gurgling, lewd sounds you’re making. Aemond’s pushes are passionate and slow, your cunt wet and loose and perfect around him, hitting your insides just right, one hand taking one of yours, to show you that he still loves you, even when you are being punished. When he picks up speed, he pushes you on Osferth’s cock and you just let yourself being used like this, being pushed and pulled between their bodies, until tendrils of your own orgasm start spreading and you don’t know how to tell them, that you’re getting too close, that you’re almost there, so very close.

When they leave your body, you just flop on the bed, tears of frustration down your cheeks. It’s Osferth who comes to you, he cradles you against himself, his lips softly kissing your tears, until you’ve calmed enough to speak.

“What’s your color?”

“Green, please Osferth” you babble

“Not yet, not yet. You’re taking your punishment so well”

“It hurts so bad, please” you’re a whining mess, so far away from the bitchy brat you’ve been all day

“I know, but that’s what punishment is about. If you like it, then it’s not working”.

He is so reasonable that you have no counter argument, just disconnected words of regret and need blabbed against his neck.

You can feel Aemond’s body behind you, one hand turning your face so he can look at you.

“Do you think you can move again? Raise your hips up for me?”

“Yes, Aemond please”

“Sȳz riña, good girl” and you shiver.

Your boys have to help you move, your legs start to feel like jelly and they have to move them for you, until your arse is up and your face on the mattress.

You tremble when you hear the lube being uncapped, the cold substance being poured on your hole and then Aemond’s index breaching you, slowly, following the way your body responds to the stimuli, adding another finger to gently scissor you, soft moans spilling from your mouth, your clit tingling with every slow movement, your hands searching Osferth’s, needing the tether like a man lost at sea.

Your fingernails bite Osferth’s hands when Aemond pushes the smallest plug in your ass, your nerves responding tenfold to the action. Turning on your back is torment, their fingers burn your skin, the cotton on your back bites at your body; you don’t know if you’ll manage not to safeword your way out of trouble today.

The gentle whirring of the clit sucker makes you groan, your hips jump when Osferth places it on your clit, mercifully on the lowest setting, still your body rocks side to side, legs uselessly trying to close around his arm, Aemond’s lips sucking your breasts are a sweet torment that makes you arch your back, eyes closed, teeth biting your lower lip. You scream when the first clamp closes around your nipple and Aemond has to pull your forehead against his, soothing words cascading from his lips, until his fingers start playing with your other nipple, teasing it into a peak, only to punish it with the other clamp. In the midst of your torment, you try to warn your boys that you’re close again, you don’t want to fail and be punished!

“Shh, I know, I know” Osferth removes the clit sucker and kisses your belly button, his short stubble tickles your tummy

“You’re doing so well, hae iā sȳz riña, like a good girl” Aemond’s lips steal yours in a kiss, slow and passionate, to which you respond with all your remaining energies, one hand sneaking in his hair.

You have to tear your lips away from his when a bigger plug enters you, your eyes begging Osferth to go slow, which he does, with eyes scanning your face for signs that he should stop; all he can see is your features tormented by pleasure again, when Aemond’s fingers enter your cunt, purposefully hitting your spot, your hands flailing on the sheets. You are so beautiful like this, desperate and ready, his thirst for you redoubling, as if he hadn’t already had a taste of your pussy.

His tongue laps at your clit, lips sucking the small bud in sync with Aemond’s fingers inside of you, your cries of pleasure music for his ears, your hands in his hair spurring him on to play with you until you are the closest you’ve been today to your orgasm.

When they release your body, you curl into yourself, their stares feel like they’re burning your skin; you can’t physically manage to bear them.

You realize your mistake when Aemond’s hand tugs at the plug inside of you, pulling it partially out to gently push it in again and again and again, until it exits you and he orders you to turn on your fours. You try, but they have to position you, Osferth’s hand in your hair to keep you upright, while cold lube is poured on your hole again, to prepare you for the biggest plug you three own, the last they’re going to use on your.

You try to relax as much as your body allows you to, still the bulbous parts of the dildo feel like they’re splitting you in two, your muscles barely capable of accepting the last one.

“Do you know a lovely fact about your cunt? - Osferth murmurs in your ear - it becomes deliciously tighter when your arse is full. Here, let me show you”.

Your body is nothing more than a ragdoll he can maneuver to sit on his cock, until he’s bottomed out. You feel so full you can’t breath, his girthy cock feels ten times bigger, your cunt barely capable of accepting it, his fingers on your clit forcing your muscles to curl around him even tighter as he grinds against you.

You can barely feel the sting of Aemond's hand grabbing your hair to turn your head to kiss you again, his free hand playing with the clamps on your nipples, your orgasm curling in your tummy, until they both stop and you don’t even have the strength to scream anymore, tears streaming down your face, wet cunt leaking down your thighs.

“Will you be good for us, ñuha dāria? We’re almost there”.

Aemond turns you on your back again, entering you with a groan of pleasure at the added pressure of the plug in your arse, pushing slowly, needing you to feel every inch of his cock seated in your velvety walls, drinking down every wailing sound you make with each and every movement he makes. He loathes that he has to leave your cunt so soon, but you are dangerously close to orgasm and he doesn’t want you to fail; still there’s one last thing he needs to do.

You lie on the bed spent and wired up at the same time, wet and frustrated beyond imagination, nerves firing with every breath you take. You can’t, you can’t anymore, it hurts too bad to be denied like this but you can’t find the strength to use your safeword: you had worse, you can bear it and Aemond has even said that you’re almost done!

You can’t see what Aemond has in his hand, the rush of the blood in your ears covers his rummaging in the chest of toys and the knowing uhm of Osferth, when he sees what he has planned for the final leg of your punishment, knowing this is the maximum he can dish out. He is always amazed by the way Aemond plays with you, gentle and cruel at the same time and so patient, eyeing you like a hawk, while he’s letting the dragon out.

The bite of the clamp on your engorged clit steals a scream from your lips, your hands barely stopping from removing it, hips pushing against nothing in pain and pleasure

“We’re almost there. Do you think you can go through this?” Osferth asks, big hand caressing your contracting tummy.

You need a second to answer, you want to go through this, you can’t bear this punishment anymore, but you want to show your lovers you’re being good, but it hurts so bad to quench your orgasm every time they touch you, you, you, you, God you mind is unraveling already!

“Yes, please” you say with a small voice, that wins you a gentle kiss on your forehead from each of your loves

“Relax as much as you can” Aemond asks and you try to, even though it’s so hard.

The rabbit vibrator is not the biggest toy you own, but your body is so strung up it feels like it’s splitting you in two halves, the pressure doubled with your arse still full of the plug, even the slow setting Aemond has chosen is a torment that forces you to writhe on the sheets, mewling like a bitch in heath, while the smaller part against your captive clit drives you absolutely mental with pain, and desire.

“Look at us” Osferth’s ask, his voice telling you that you can’t say no.

Your two loves are embracing one another, cocks leaky and erect gently rubbing against one another, Aemond’s lips leaving marks on Osferth’s throat, the latter’s hands on the other man’s arse, kneading the muscles there.

“Don’t take your eyes off us, ñuha dāria. This is the last thing we ask you to do and then you can come”.

You wail, desperate: there’s nothing more erotic than your lovers taking care of one another, their bodies entwined, enslaved to pleasure.

You feel hot and cold at the same time as Osferth lies Aemond on the bed, his lips sucking on his erect nipples until the other moans and arches his back, hands grabbing Osferth’s short locks to pull him even closer to his body.

Both their erections have been tormenting them from the moment they’ve started playing with you, each time they had to pull out, curbing their own orgasm, had been torture, your body calling theirs into its depths. Now, kissing and sliding against one another, cocks red and balls so full it feels like they’re going to explode, renders them deaf to everything but their own moans of pleasure, and that’s why they don’t notice immediately your silence.

The music of your moans and keens of pleasure has been in Osferth's ears, mixed with Aemond's, creating the best array of sounds he could even hope for, now there's only Aemond's soft moans of need and pleasure: something is wrong.

Osferth turns his head to you and sees that you are frozen on the bed, eyes open but not staring at them, full of fear, your hands clenched painfully. Shit! Shit! Shit! he thinks.

"Aemond!".

His tone it's the warning sign that kicks Aemond awake from his sexual reverie, his eye training on your unmoving body, a curse on his lips the moment he realizes they have fucked up.

Frenzied they remove all the toys tormenting you, their bodies enveloping yours under the covers, pressing you between them, their hands caressing you gently, while they call your name, softly, trying to lure you back from the depths of your own mind.

Despite their warm bodies, you feel cold, as if you have no blood in your body. Every muscle hurts, but the worst is your mind, spinning out of control, violent memories plaguing you, blocking you from doing anything, even calling for help. Your lovers' voices have to fight the whirlwind of your thoughts, with tremendous effort you try to focus on them, their tone calm, but with an undercurrent of fear: you have to come back to them, but God it’s so hard to take back yourself from the terror freezing you!

You don't know how long it takes for you to feel your body again, your heart beating a maddening tattoo in your chest, your fingers searching whomever hands' are the closest to feel that you are gaining control back. You want to call their names, but only a strangled cry escapes and then the tears, copious down your cheeks, the sobs welcome because they wreck your body, making you feel real, back where you belong to.

If possible, Osferth and Aemond hug you even tighter, each of your sobs stabs them with guilt: too hard, they've used you too hard and didn't even realize it, this wasn't supposed to happen, still it did and both your lovers are devoured by guilt. How, between the two of them, they didn’t realize? You looked tired, yes, but not more than usual during play and Osferth had dommed you harder than he did this time and nothing happened: what did he miss?

“I’m so sorry - you manage to say - I don’t know why…” and you stop, unsure

“It happens to you, sometimes” Osferth tries to reassure you, not that his own words make him feel any better

“It’s just - you search for the right words, the feat hard with your brain still reeling from the violent sub drop - when I saw you two together, I felt alone, I don’t know why”

“We’re so sorry” Aemond tells, lips in your hair

“No, don’t be! - you crane your neck to look at him - not your fault. My brain misfires sometimes”.

Aemond knows, but it doesn't really matter: he's your protector and he's failed.

You three fall into an uneasy silence, you feeling their combined pain and guilt, them trying their hardest to make sure you are feeling safe, battling against their consciences.

You are not sure how much time has passed, before your body starts to feel like it is your own again: brain less muddled and muscles tired, to the point that you will need to be carried around for the rest of the day. Pressed as you are between your lovers, you can smell sweat and sex on their skins, you feel the thrum of Aemond’s soft humming and Osferth’s fingertips on you, all small signals that help you back into yourself, where you need to be.

Slowly your skin registers theirs again, their faded erections starting to come back, aided by the proximity of your body and its spell, your unhurried breathing and face playfully rubbing against them, like a happy cat, your arse pushing back, against Aemond’s swelling cock.

“Stop it” he tells you, trying to put some distance between your delectable ass and his erection

“Why? I need you”

“I am here”

“I don’t mean in that sense”.

You know Aemond struggles, sometimes, when you give him the reins, between what he likes to do to you, and his fear of hurting you, because to him, you are delicate, made of glass, someone he needs to keep safe from everyone, even from himself. There’s this constant push and pull between you two: you demonstrate to him, again and again, that you can take it, and him, who tries to reconcile his two minds.

“Aemond is right - Osferth murmurs against your forehead - this one was bad. You were out for a while”.

You hug Osferth tighter. You know he worries a lot whenever you sub drop, as if it’s his fault and not your stupid brain; besides, shit happens even during the best planned scenes, you both know that.

“I am feeling better, and I need you two” you say

“You thought you could make it, and look what happened”

“I miscalculated a lot - you answer - I am more focused now, please. I still feel so strung up” and you are.

With the feel of your own body back, so it’s the frustration of so many missed orgasms, nerves itching with every small movement you make.

“We can be quick”

“I don’t need quick”

“Tell us what it is that you desire, ñuha dōna and we decide, together”.

You feel the warmth of shame, mixed with giddiness, expand in your body. For all your sexual prowess, this is something you’ve never done; on one hand, you are happy to try it with Osferth and Aemond, on the other, you are afraid to ask.

“I want you to take my cunt and arse at the same time - both your lovers exhale a surprised huff of breath - please?”.

A sliver of anxiety enters your voice again. The awful feeling of being abandoned by them rearing its ugly head.

“It is a lot - Osferth’s hand finds home in your hair to crane your neck, needing to look into your eyes - we are a lot”

“We might hurt you” the struggle in Aemond’s voice breaks your heart: he cares so much about you

“Please, I know, please. I am more ready than I will ever be, please don’t abandon me”.

You know you are being unreasonable, that they mean well, still you haven’t expunged all the nastiness the sub drop left behind, you can feel panic rising again, squeezing your chest.

“We’ll never abandon you, ñuha dāria” Aemond maneuvers his body so he can look into your eyes

“You are stuck with us, forever. We just care about your wellbeing” Osferth adds.

You try to take a deep breath and calm yourself, to explain yourself better.

“I know how well endowed you both are. I know it will be difficult, but not impossible. Please, I want this first with you two. I had been thinking about it for so long!”.

Your two lovers stare at one another, a silent dialog in their stare: your safety comes first, even before your desires, which don’t exist in a vacuum, they are not mindless sex machines, they too have needs and fears you have to acknowledge. It will kill them to know that they have hurt you just because they were being careless.

You tell yourself all of this, trying to kill the anxiety burning in your belly. Even if they say no, they love you and denying you something comes from a place of love and care, not indifference.

You feel anxiety spread like an itch you can’t scratch and hate that your mind is spiraling again, producing fears you seem incapable to squash.

“We’ll do it - Osferth tells you after what seemed to be centuries of wait - if we feel like something is wrong we stop”.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, your mind gripping itself into reason.

“If we were to stop - Aemond turns your body to face you fully - is for your safety. It doesn’t mean we don’t love you or that we will not try again. You have to trust us on this”

“Yes, I know. Thank you. Thank you for giving me this” and you mean every word.

They kiss you, slow and gentle, their hands caress your body like it’s made of glass, like you are fragile, their gentle motions shaping your desire in something less urgent, like flames hiding under the ash that warm your whole body and lull your mind into calmness.

It’s their hands that move you into position, your ass up in the air and your face in the mattress, Aemond’s face close to yours, one hand holding yours as the other goes to your folds, fingers finding their way between your lips to caress the skin there, to play with your hole and clit; you moan, your nerves still remembering the recent assault of sensations, but you try to stay calm, to feel what Aemond is doing without urging him on, following his lead.

With the same gentleness, Osferth pours lube on your hole and starts preparing you; it’s easy, you had worn the big plug for so long your body is ready, still he takes his time to opening you up, just following the signals your body is giving him, the hand he has on your hip there to caress the skin and give you a sense of security.

You are a babbling mess by the time they decide you are ready, wet and loose and desperate for their touch again, your fingers holding Aemond’s hands grabbing desperately.

You hear Osferth groan as he prepares himself and your breath quickens in excitement, his hand like a brand on your hip.

You both sigh when his head starts breaching you. It doesn’t matter how many plugs, or for how long he has prepared you, taking him makes you feel like he’s owning you, like he’s mastering your body into doing his bidding, your muscles trying to push him out, until they just give up and accept his assault, until he is fully seated and his hips are flush against your ass. You try to breath and to force all your muscles to relax around him: you feel so full and ready to feel him move, but he doesn’t, he just breaths in tandem with you until you are completely relaxed and then props your body up, slowly, until you are flush against him and Aemond can slide under you two.

Osferth is keeping your whole body up, making sure you are not fully sitting on him, your body can't sheat him that way or he'll hurt you.

Aemond stares at you like you are a miracle, a goddess bestowing her presence on him, letting her body be ravished by a couple of heathens.

"Are you still sure?" his cock hurts but you safety is paramount

"Yes Aemond, please" you answer, your voice strained, cunt wet and hungry.

Slowly, your men position you over Aemond's erection and he pushes inside of you, a curse escaping his lips at how tight you are. He has to screw his eye to concentrate on not coming, your cunt like a fist around his erection and he feels like he is splitting you open, the added pressure of Osferth's cock in your ass driving him insane with the need of pistoning inside of you like a wild animal. The high pitched sounds you make don't help any of them to keep an iron grip on their own desires, you sound so lost, like a wounded animal and the darkest parts of them want more of that, more of how defenseless you are under their combined attack.

Aemond breaching you feels like it's taking centuries, where you are made and unmade time and time again, until he is fully inside of you, long cock pushing just right against your G spot, the pressure inside of you bordering on unbearable: not even the toys had ever made you feel this way, utterly and completely possessed by your lovers, every inch of them marking you from the inside, ruining you and knitting you whole. For a second you can't breathe, your mind focused on their impressive cocks inside your holes; you have to remind yourself that you need air to survive, so you try to focus on them, to sync with them, who are as ruined as you are.

"I can feel you two touching through me"

"It is divine. You are divine" Osferth tells you through gritted teeth

"Kessa, yes - you can hear the strain in Aemond's voice - perfect".

They need to move but they wait, until your body feels more relaxed, your breath less ragged, the vise of your holes less tight.

The only thing you can do is moan when they start to move, slow pulls and pushes, never leaving you empty, their cock hitting all the right spots that make you tremble in their arms, and open up even more. Desperate you seek their lips, your teeth their soft skin, needing to leave your mark on them the same way they are doing with you, their hands like manacles on your hips, moving your body to their leisure while you beg and keen like an animal.

They are both cursing at how good you feel wrapped around their cocks, the right amount of tightness that makes their eyes cross, the slapping of skin on skin like music for their ears.

They just need a quick glance, before changing rhythm, entering and exiting you at the same time, pistoning with more vigor against your body and you scream, bloodcurdling sounds of pleasure and pain, your arms flailing, fingers seeking their skins, spit drooling from your mouth. If you felt full before, now the feeling has grown tenfold, their cocks the only thing you can feel, your body not yours anymore, plied open by your merciless lovers, your nerves screaming with the pleasure they are forcing on you. It feels like your insides are going to liquefy, to tear open to make space for your lovers, in reality your muscles are curling brutally around the cocks forcing you open, the pressure inside of you almost painful for them, your body completely lax and at their disposal, your lips attacked by theirs at the same time. You can’t think, only feel their bodies against yours, every inch of their erections against the velvet of your walls, separated by the thin layer of your skin, driving you insane.

Your orgasm arrives like a tornado, robbing you of whatever sanity you have left, your holes curling so brutally to force them to still and spill inside of you, until it hurts too much and they have to leave your body, their comes leaking obscenely from your holes.

You three fall on the bed, no strength left to support your weights, ungraceful and tired, limbs entwined, lips still seeking contact, hands caressing tired bodies.

You feel worn out and weightless, burrowing in their embrace you laugh with happiness, even though you are so tired and ready to sleep. Your lovers are in no better shape, their muscles trembling with all the effort of taking you within an inch of your life, your laugh the balm to the tiredness they feel in their bones and the fear they felt when you sub dropped.

Yes, you three are all supposed to clean up and then wash the toys and change the bedsheets, but there’s time for that, now basking in your shared happiness is the only thing that truly matters, and maybe a nap all dogpiled the way you three are now, anything else can wait.

Everythig taglist: @ilikeitbetterangsty

Poly taglist: @notyour-valentine , @fan-goddess , @aegonx

#aemond targaryen x reader x osferth #aemond targaryen x y/n x osferth #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen #osferth x reader #osferth x y/n #osferth

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the12thnightproject · 1 year

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Hi! Can I have a request please in which MC decides to have le Warlords try the "Period Cramp Simulator"? Just imagine them boasting that they'll be fine, only for them to kneel over in pain. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Again, Anon, I am sorry for taking so long. Hopefully my schedule should clear up soon…? But here is your request!

Oh, this is a fun request. But it involved some serious thinks… these warlords are pretty stoic. In my memory they’ve been shot (arrows and bullets) beaten up, fallen (or jumped) off cliffs, stabbed in battle, stabbed daily by Kenshin and defied a terminal illness without complaint….

So, really, are they going to be defeated by a period simulator? Are they? Let's see....

Upon hearing of such a device there is a great argument over who would be able to last the longest. And so a contest is proposed….

Contest Rules:

One: Mai is not allowed to watch as all agree that none of them will admit to pain in her presence. (She hides in the ceiling and watches anyway).

Two: Yelling, yelping, screaming are grounds for elimation.

Three: Sasuke runs the experiment and controls the simulator. He is the judge as to whether or not a warlord has been eliminated. Why Sasuke? First, because they all trust him enough to run the device equally and not cheating for your lord, Hideyoshi and Kanetsugu. Second, because he is a sensitive new age guy and freely admits that period cramps hurt (he secretly tested the stimulator on himself when he was alone and tapped out at level eight).

Let the games begin! Sasuke places the simulator patches on everyone, and from a master switch, turns the device on so that everyone hits level one simultaneously.

Level One:

All warlords are fine. Ranmaru earns the wrath of the room by noting that it “kind of tickles.”

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Two:

Such serious faces. Everyone is concentrating.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Three:

There are a few deep breaths happening now, but nothing that could be defined as yelling, yelping, or screaming.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Four:

Sasuke walks around the room for a long, slow time, looking at everyone’s faces, until Kenshin tells him to get on with things and start making it hurt. When is the pain going to start? Kanetsugu chimes in, telling Sasuke to move things along, so that Kenshin can have his pain. There are quiet whispers of, ‘yes, hurry, let’s move it along,” and a lot of internal, “let’s get this over with now, kthxbye” thoughts.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Five:

Kicho accuses Nobunaga of wincing. Motonari is quick to agree that Nobunaga winced. Hideyoshi defends Nobunaga, says that he would never wince, it was just a natural blink. After a short discussion, it is decided that Nobunaga did not wince, and further accusations of wincing, or yelling, or thereof will be cause for forfeit.

Nobunaga silently admits to himself that he quite possibly winced, but now that he knows what to expect, he is prepared for the next wave of … oh shit.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Six:

Ranmaru, Keiji and Yoshimoto incur a forfeit by accusing each other of wincing. They escape the room. The fourteen remaining warlords quickly look around, but no other accusations are made.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Seven:

There is a lot of visible sweat, careful breathing, and gritted teeth happening. Internally, there is a lot of very creative swearing, using words in combination rarely spoken out loud.

Kennyo puts himself into a meditative state. Masamune wonders if that would be considered cheating, but Kennyo points out that he’s not preventing anyone else from meditating, he’s just using the skills he has. No one is willing to discuss the matter further, and Shingen notes that Kennyo is correct, and can they please keep going.

Privately, Shingen vows to give every one of his female spies three days off a month, and a pay raise.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Eight:

Sasuke looks at every face and pauses at Ieyasu’s for a long time. Ieyasu says that while he is not bothered by the cramp simulator, Sasuke is making him very uncomfortable. Sasuke replies that he’s impressed by Ieyasu’s stoicism and by the way when this is over, can he have Ieyasu’s autograph. Ieyasu rips the simulator off and stomps out, deciding that while he can endure the pain, he can’t deal with Sasuke.

Ieyasu goes home and hugs his emotional support sourdough starter for the rest of the day.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Nine:

Kanetsugu looks over at Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi…. “Are you two holding hands?!” Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi look down at their joined hands and instantly let go of each other. “No!” they both yelp.

Some time is lost while it is debated whether or not that counts as period simulator yelping, and after everyone votes (voting signified by slow careful hand raises), they are both allowed to continue in the competition.

Yukimura curls himself into a silent, fetal ball – but he does not yelp or yell, so Sasuke is inclined to let him continue.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Ten:

The warlords sit in silent agony.

Time ticks onward.

Slowly.

No one taps out.

Everyone stares at each other’s faces.

“Perhaps we can consider this a tie,” Shingen suggests.

There is immediate universal assent from the rest of the room, and Sasuke agrees. “Take off your simulators.”

Twelve warlords quickly – but nonchalantly – remove their devices. Then Masamune notices… “Mitsunari, lad, you can take the device off now.” Hideyoshi rushes over to his vassal, worried that perhaps the young man has passed out.

Mitsunari looks up from the book he has been reading. “I’m sorry, did you say something? He gazes around the room. “Oh, are we starting the contest now? Go ahead, Master Sasuke, I’m ready.”

Mitsunari declared the winner.

There will be a celebratory banquet for him…. next week… when everyone else has recovered.

@lorei-writes

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genericpuff · 8 months

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I love that you're acknowledging other religions, but this got me thinking, just how often do stragglers come into Hades' realm and what sort of relationship does he have with other death deities (Hel, Anubis, etc...), if at all?

In terms of Hades' line of work, it's not frequent that it happens, but it usually happens often enough that they have an entire department at the Underworld Corp. designed to deal with them and get them pointed in the right direction :> He doesn't have much of a relationship with gods from the other pantheons, nor does anyone really, as it's typically agreed upon as a mutual form of respect to not overstep into other pantheon's territories. The Greeks don't tell the Norse how to do their jobs, that sort of thing, they all mind their own businesses and let the mortals do the interweaving. Their pantheons tend to directly cross over the most when there are stragglers.

But when it comes to the afterlife worldbuilding as a whole within Rekindled, a combination of different factors (or lack thereof) can affect what afterlife someone may go to, accidentally or with intention. The usual way is to just end up in the afterlife of the territory you dwell in and aligned with the gods you worship (so if you're Greece, you end up in the Underworld). Some people will grow up a part of one culture and then end up in the afterlife of another because they practiced a religion that was separate from their own culture's primary religion (ex. if someone born in Egypt practiced Christianity). If they're not strongly spiritual themselves and don't align with any one religion or pantheon, sometimes they'll end up in the afterlife of whatever religion/spirituality their parent(s) practiced. Or, sometimes it can go beyond the spiritual - like if one dies on another culture's grounds (say if they were in Greece and took a trip to Sweden and either decided to stay permanently or died before they made it back to Greece) that could also result in them ending up in an afterlife they weren't expecting.

some people don't get an afterlife at all.

There are also... other fun ways for the afterlives to converge, but I'd rather show y'all that then tell you when we meet two other stragglers who are gonna make a little appearance. They'll just be a brief cameo, not an ongoing thing like Asmund the Viking, but I still love the idea of them ending up in the Underworld because it just makes so much sense for them to wind up in the wrong place LOL

#a greek hellenist walks up to the pearly gates #'you're not the big bearded cloud guy i'm looking for'#lore rekindled #lore rekindled comic #lore rekindled ama #ama #ask me anything #anon ask me anything #anon ama

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putschki1969 · 3 months

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Hello Puts!

I don't think I have seen you share your thoughts about Keiko's latest single. I personally really enjoy this release and I am curious how you feel about it?

Ugh, yeah, you got me there🫣I've been uncharacteristically quiet about Keiko's 「夕闇のうた」. Quite frankly, I've just not had enough positive things to say to warrant a proper review😭. As most of you probably know, I do not get any pleasure from lingering on stuff I don't particularly like, I simply move on and prefer to focus on things I actually enjoy. But hey, since you asked, I might as well write up a few things that have been going through my mind.

Disclaimer: Needless to say, this is all just my personal opinion. I am by no means an expert on music or singing, I am just a fan who is very invested in my girls but due to having a very specific taste, not everything works for me but of course that doesn't mean that it won't work for anyone else.

Let's start with the single's A-Side 「夕闇のうた/Yūyami no Uta」. It's not like I hate the song or anything, objectively it's a decent track, I just can't really get into it. There are some songs and melodies that immediately resonate with me, others grow on me over time and then there are some I need to hear performed live to properly appreciate them. In this case, none of these options apply unfortunately. We got our very first snippet way back at the end of November and to be honest, that didn't do much for me which already kinda tempered my excitement. Ever since then the song has had time to marinate but I haven't been able to warm up to it. Even the live performance at last year's Kaji Fes didn't have a noteworthy effect on me. My last hope was hearing the full studio version but my reaction was once again rather lukewarm. The visuals of the PV helped a bit to get me into a good mood for the song but ultimately, I was pretty much underwhelmed. And the worst thing is, I struggle to pinpoint what exactly is bothering me about the song. One thing I am definitely not a fan of is the overly rushed and repetitive drum-beat in the verses, for some reason I feel like it clashes a bit with Keiko's singing and cheapens the overall vibe of the song but that could just be my personal impression. I prefer a good build-up to a chorus and I don't think we are getting it here. Speaking of the chorus, the structure of the chorus doesn't work for me or maybe it's the melody (lack thereof?) that doesn't appeal to me? Not sure exactly but it's not giving me what I would have liked. The first part starting with "inori" is pretty generic and then we get a sort of crescendo for "utau/fureru" which feels oddly out of place, especially when it transitions right into the scat singing. Maybe there is too much different stuff going on or it's all happening too fast but it doesn't have the impact on me which it probably should have. I am usually a big fan of Keiko's scat singing, I mean, her yay- yay-yay part in YK's "vanity" or Kalafina's "Door" regularly gives me an eargasm so why the hell does it leave me so unimpressed in "Yūyami no Uta"???!!! I guess it's more of a combination of the melodic arrangement and the accompanying scatting which makes songs like "vanity" or "Door" so much more epic for me....? As for the bridge, it's okay I suppose. In her interviews, Keiko has mentioned multiple times how her progress as a vocalist has made it possible to tackle all these high parts and that just a few years ago, Yuki Kajiura would have assigned Yuriko Kaida or one of her other chorus singers to sing those sections. Keiko's higher registers are a hit and miss for me, sometimes they work, other times not so much. Here she sounds perfectly fine and I fully understand why YK would feel confident to let Keiko handle this on her own. But again, the whole part is just meh and by now I am convinced that it is because the song doesn't have a sufficiently nice melody to provide a good base for Keiko's singing.

I want to continue with 「夕闇のうた Special Edit ver.」 because I honestly feel like we have been robbed of something really good here. Whoever decided to bypass this in favour of the normal version should really start questioning their life choices. I am not saying that this version is perfect (we don't even get all that much to form an opinion on it) but from what I hear, it is superior in many ways and would have worked better as an ending (edit: apparently, it has actually been used as ED on the 3rd ep). That gorgeous strings intro alone takes the song to a whole new level, making it so much more melodic. And the somewhat obtrusive drums feel way more toned down here since they are introduced at a later point of the song to create more of a proper build-up towards the chorus. The chorus itself is pretty much the same from what I can tell but I wonder what the bridge and the remainder of the verses would have sounded like in this style. The ending verse of the song also works a lot better for this special edit, wish they had included all of it starting from "itoshii" and then concluded it with another strings section.

Now all that's left to talk about is the single's B-Side, 「燈命/Tōmei」. This song is a big no-go for me so I'll keep it short. The composition, arrangement and lyrics were all done by Saku who has previously worked with Keiko on "Ray" (Lantana), "Sakura wo Goran" (dew) and "YOUR" (CUTLERY). He was only in charge of the arrangement for"Sakura wo Goran" but out of those three songs, "Tōmei" feels closest to this one in terms of vibe and overall blandness. I've come to enjoy "YOUR" quite a bit (even if I am not so happy with some of Keiko's higher notes) and "Ray" is decent too but my entire body outright rejects songs like "Sakura wo Goran" and "Tōmei". Sorry🙈I don't even know what else to say. I listened to it and immediately was like, nope, next one please.

Phew, this turned out longer than expected. I feel shabby for going on and on about all the stuff I didn't like but oh well, what's done is done. Moving on...

#kalafina #keiko #reply #review #夕闇のうた #yūyami no uta #燈命 #Tōmei

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mythserene · 3 months

Text

LEWISOHN: Let's crowdsource this bastard.

Check a footnote.

Whether you heroically tear straight into him like @wingsoverlagos or you find one thing like @delightfullyatomicfest did, it matters! What I hoped for and imagined from the beginning was some sort of crowdsourced work. There is too much for any one person, and one of the biggest problems with Beatles' sources is that they're not all equally easy to get to for everyone. And although this has become personal for me, it is an objectively huge problem for all Beatles fans and scholars that the man who has collectively been called the Beatles historian has—and I cannot say this clearly enough—BEEN JUST MAKING SHIT UP.

He literally ends ‘Tune In’ with a fabricated line that he sources to John Lennon. (!!!)

(Which I might not have realized for ages—if ever—if not for this @wingsoverlagos post)

Lewisohn has no shame.

And while it may seem like we are screaming into the void right now, I will tell you that we are not. I fear jinxing anything so I won't say more now, but our work is not in vain. People are paying attention. How can they help but pay attention? It's too shocking a betrayal. Too great a breach of trust. It has become overwhelming and impossible to ignore, and it has happened so quickly. Just by a few people taking the time to do the work.

And what is obvious now is that if you take a piece of source material that's referenced and go through it you will find butchered and fabricated quotes. And whether you do it that way or just check a footnote that interests you PLEASE TELL ME what you find! 🙏🏻

I am trying to gather all this up in one place. An ammo dump, if you will. If you want credit, tell me how you want to be credited, linked to, and any combination thereof. (I don't like taking credit for things I don't find, anyway.) But either shoot me a message or @ me or all of the above so we can collect all together and it can have the cumulative effect it deserves. (I will respond, but sometimes I am gone for a few days at a time, and occasionally for up to a week. I always come back, though.) #crowdsourcelewisohn

I have also set up an email for collecting funky footnotes: [email protected] (At this point I'm only checking this once a week.)

If you look, you almost certainly will find.

If you have any Beatle magazines or Pete Best's book, "Beatle!" you could be a superhero. (One chapter of Best's book is available online, but I haven't been able to find the rest.) Or if you have any less-available source material I am urging you—begging you—to jump in and check some footnotes. With Lewisohn as bold as he is in the easily searchable things just imagine the license he's taking in the rest. But whether hard to find or commonplace, check a source. It adds up and it kind of feels good to uncover some bullshit.

For your edification and motivation I am adding a clip — lightly edited to take out some Lewisohn devolutions (so here's the queued up link) — of Mark Lewisohn bragging and basking in the praise of being called a historian who should be ranked alongside the great LBJ biographer Robert Caro, of him saying that the Beatles should appreciate anyone writing a biography of this high a standard about them, and a momentary lapse into deep resentment that they don't appreciate him. And then he gives his little speech about the Beatles being about “truth with a capital ‘T’” and how he is writing a biography to match that truth.

“Truth” is a word Mark Lewisohn needs to keep out of his mouth. If you feel like he should be struck by lightening for uttering it, that is exactly what I am talking about.

We are that lightening.

Honestly, what AKOM started is so awesome. It gave this an outlet. (And I still go back and listen for both source material and motivation.)

It's sickening to listen to this now. Sickening because Lewisohn has been making us all his dupes for far too long. We have been his marks, and there's almost nothing I hate more than being conned.

#mark lewisohn #historiography #dr frankenquote #exact words #lewisohn lies #tune in #fine tuning #wingsoverlagos #a beatle didn't say that #paul mccartney #the beatles #check a footnote #crowdsource lewisohn #AKOM #I love you Phoebe and Daphne #lewi-sins

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artoodeetootired · 5 months

Text

how you get the girl (11)

🌌 and that's how it works- that's how you got the girl. 🌌

part i

it is widely known that anakin skywalker excels at nearly everything- except one: how to get the girl of his dreams.

words: ~5.4k (warning: also did not proofread)

aotc anakin skywalker x padawan!ofc (+ besties padme & artoo)

best friends to lovers, miscommunication, a little angst ig?, fluff, whiny emo teenager padawans

Evelyn found herself meditating more aggressively than usual the next morning... with a lightsaber.

After she had finished her perimeter check in just an hour, she resorted to whipping her weapon around in a never-ending storm.

Her mind was too scattered, too dark. It was consumed by feelings she had suppressed for far too long, even though they were inevitable.

The vibrations hummed in the air. and she danced along with it. As she fought the enemy in her mind, she lost herself to the flow of it, letting the Force embody her, and she the Force.

Twirling and thrusting and concentrating, Evelyn reached the peak of her combination and went for the blowing swing.

Only to find resistance on the other end.

Opening her eyes in alarm, she was welcomed with the plague himself, his saber connected ferociously to hers.

Sparks sprouted around them, their blue rays challenging each other as they pushed one another.

"I knew I'd find you here," Anakin smirked, never faltering in his engagement to her saber.

From the intersection of their blades, Evelyn couldn't help but feel a little lost at the sight of his azure eyes, seeing how it matched their twined lightsabers.

She's always subtly complimented him about it, but never in the way she thought at that very moment.

"Oh yeah?" she dared to push against him a little harder, partly as a way to scold herself, "Is that what you told yourself running 'round the past few days?"

At this she ducked underneath his arm, freeing the both of them to circle around each other.

He chuckled deeply, "So you own up to actively avoiding me?"

Evelyn tilted her head, smiling behind the spinning blur of her lightsaber.

"You know I never lie."

"Well then if you're so honest," Anakin edged on, pointing the tip of his saber towards her, "Then what say you a bet?"

Despite herself and the events of the last few days (or the lack thereof), she was open to the idea.

She did admit that she found his composed demeanor quite strange, knowing Anakin extremely well as impatient. She expected harsh questioning, annoyed monologues, nosy tendencies; instead, he was acting as anything but that. Well, to an extent-he was still his cocky self this early in the morning.

Padme's rubbing off on him, I guess.

"Go on."

"We duel." Anakin states strongly, "It's been a while, so it’s even ground. And whoever wins, gets to make the other do something."

Evelyn scoffed, "Well, that's what a bet is. I meant, what's at stake?"

"If I win, you stop acting like a hellion and join us today. No questions asked," he gazed down at her.

Huh?

"And if I win?" she stopped walking, keeping her weapon by her side.

"I leave you alone," Anakin said simply, face unreadable.

Curious.

They regarded one another for a while, eyeing the other for any foul intentions. Taking it to the next level, their reach out to each other through the Force was wide open, unlike how Evelyn had closed herself off from him for days.

And so she rushed forward, swinging the first strike.

He met her by his head, admittedly a little shocked she would go straight for his neck.

He forced her to his right, then pulled her towards him so she would spin away, allowing for him to regroup. Anakin lunged for her legs, leaving a path of light in the wake of her fast feet, backing up on her toes as preparation to jump over his head.

She landed facing his back, and snatched his defenseless side as an opportunity. But as she expected, he had blocked her, his arms twisted to cover him, and his face turned over his shoulder to peek at her determined face.

He smiled, missing this.

A battling blur of blue and white ensued, dangerously similar to lightspeed; their movement rocked back and forth, bringing balance to their battle as they danced a tango they've danced before.

Both were swift, sure and strong in their steps, and it was painfully clear that they were each other's equals as they showed no falter.

Behind her followed her streak of dark hair, as sharp as her eyes; ever following Anakin's movements, discerning, calculating, deciding. She tried to ignore how his eyes never left hers if he could help it, and how she couldn't leave his. Evelyn didn't know what made this spar so different, but it intoxicated her senses.

She blamed the heat she was feeling on their lightsabers.

On the other side of their ferocious frolic, Anakin watched her fight as his body responded naturally, for they always did a thousand times. Her eyes narrowed, her teeth gnawing on her lip, her hair falling into place; he could fight her over and over again, win over and over again, lose over and over again, if it meant he got to witness this.

Unsurprisingly, Anakin maneuvered his saber in a way that always confused his opponents. Rarely Evelyn, however, as she had seen his signature move enough to handle it. He spun it impossibly fast twice behind and in front of him, meaning to draw her attention everywhere.

He was unsuccessful.

But he was counting on that.

Her perfect-on-paper tactic to strike his legs the split second his momentum drove him upwards was met with a jump. Anakin tucked his knees up to her surprise, then scooped her lightsaber in to turn against her.

He had caged her in: her own vertically challenging the side of her face, and his horizontally threatening her throat. Yet all she could feel was his racing heartbeat behind her as he pressed her back into his chest.

She silently hoped he couldn't feel hers.

"And one more thing." she barely stopped herself from shivering when his breath tingled her ear, practically feeling his ear-to-ear grin, “You've gotta wear the dress."

•〰️•

It's shorter than I thought.

Evelyn expected as much. Padme was almost 4 inches shorter than her with a much daintier physique- of course, she would need less tightening of the soft corset attached, and it would stop above her ankles rather than her feet.

Though, the Padawan wasn't going to lie- the dress was beautiful.

Padme deserved credit for her fashion sense, for she knew well enough that Evelyn preferred simplicity and comfort, and gifted her a dress she was in genuine admiration of.

Like everything here, it was soft; lace hugging her skin as if it knew it belonged to be on her. She wasn't sure how Padme had come to know of her favourite colour, but the wispy layers of the dress were of a midnight blue, the same one would see if they looked up at the sky in the latest hours of the night.

Yes, it may have been odd given that all of her life was spent in space- one would think she would be tired of such a shade. But the night had been her friend since before she was plucked out of Canto Bight's fathier farm, always reassuring her that it was okay not to sleep, always staying with her as she told it her hopes and dreams until the sun came to ruin it all.

The straps on each side intertwined with one another, deceiving all to believe they were dark vines crawling up from the gently layered skirt, up her soft corset, across her shoulders. It wrapped her in all the right places, and she couldn't stop feeling anxious about wearing it in front of other people. Angling herself around multiple times to ensure nothing was more awkward, she scrutinised herself in the mirror.

"So this is what Padme feels like everyday," she said to herself, “Not in the same robes everyday, feeling pretty and strong.”

An all too familiar series of robotic chirps muffled through the door, and she knew R2 had come to escort her; unsurprisingly, Anakin and Padme had gone ahead.

She took a deep breath, still slightly upset she had lost the duel, and headed for the door.

"Where did you say?" Evelyn asked her companion.

They had just crossed a riverbank, encircled by large, majestic waterfalls that kissed her lightly with its teardrops.

"We're almost there! Just up ahead in the field," R2 beeped, letting out a surprised yelp as Evelyn placed him safely down on the bank.

"Hey, watch your language, Artoo," Evelyn frowned, Anakin's been talking to him too much, “Plus, I thought you could swim?"

He zoomed through the grass at the implication, afraid he'd be sent swimming back to the villa.

"Seems a bit extra for me to wear a dress like this out here, no?"

She watched her step, careful not to stain the dress.

He whirred and tittered in response, and it made Evelyn beam bashfully.

"Thank you, R2. And you look pretty, too."

It was a bright, ever sunny day, but Evelyn supposed the giant waterfalls provided them with a dew that brightened the whole field up.

She didn't know whether to be surprised or not anymore, for the flowers scattering the scene were breathtaking.

Just up ahead, was the pair sitting on a small clearing, where blades of grass turned outwards as if accommodating them.

"Evelyn," Padme gasped, cupping her face as she stood to meet the approaching Padawan, "Oh, it's so much better than I imagined!"

Padme squealed softly and held her at arms-length, observing her.

"You look amazing as well, Padme."

Indeed she did, in a floral dress that spelled out her elegance, the sun making it almost golden to the eye.

Anakin’s got one lucky ass.

"I do apologise, I didn't have anything that was longer for your height and less formal for the occasion.”

"No, please don't!" grasping her hands in return, "I can't thank you enough for your kindness. It truly is beautiful.”

"Well, it is even more so now," Padme smiled, dragging her towards Anakin, the droid and a noticeable basket in the middle, "Come! We haven't started eating yet."

"Good, Anakin wouldn't have left anything,” she joked, earning Padme's laugh.

The close attention from his gaze was not lost to her, and she couldn't bring herself to look straight at him.

But his aura forced her to. So, she looked to where he was sitting, already seeing him scan her every detail, every inch of her new look.

"So, where's your dress?" Evelyn snipped to break the ice. They sat down, and Padme began to offload the food in front of them.

"Oh, I would've worn it," he broke out of his trance and reached for a sandwich, "But I wouldn't've looked as pretty as you do right now"

Evelyn almost choked on nothing, refusing to let them see the profuse blush colouring her cheeks as she glanced down.

What lovely grass.

In all of their time together, Anakin had never called her 'pretty' out of nowhere. And even when he did, it was in the most unserious of contexts.

It wasn't to say that Evelyn never thought of Anakin as... attractive. Because he was.

It would be a crime to try and lie about that. Girls in and out of the temple would gawk and giggle as he walked past, and Evelyn would be there to watch all of it, trying her best not to let it influence her perspective.

"So, Ani," Padme brought up quickly as she sensed Evelyn's discomfort, "How did you draw our mission leader away from her duties?"

A pang of guilt rang in Evelyn's chest.

"An aggressive negotiation" they said at the same time. Though, Anakin had his mouth half-full.

"Aggressive negotiation?" Padme asked, "What's that?"

Evelyn waved a hand for Anakin to proceed, who laughed as he swallowed his food, "It's, well, a negotiation with a lightsaber.

"You guys did what now?" Padme asked astounded.

They burst into laughter, and that was the start of an afternoon that surprised even Evelyn. As if nothing had happened, the three of them bonded- talking of both surface and deeper topics, and getting up to explore the field when they found sitting tiresome.

"Careful!" came Evelyn's shriek.

The two women watched as the rebel was thrown around on a wild shaak's (as Evelyn had learned the creature was called) back, trying to maintain his balance as they unsteadily shot down the hill.

"Anakin Skywalker, you are not going to die on an animal's back on my mission!"

She assured Padme that she would retrieve him, telling her to stay put with R2. Evelyn removed her sandals, hiked up her dress and ran as fast as she could until she found a falter in the shaak’s prance.

"Then join me!" he yelled down at her. Anakin's big hand shot out, albeit bouncing up and down, and stayed there until she skeptically decided to take it.

A yelp escaped her mouth as she was tugged up, and she clung on to him for dear life when she had realised what she had done.

"Oh my word, I shouldn't be condoning this behaviour."

"Aw, c'mon, we used to do more reckless thing before this." he threw over his shoulder.

"Yes, but imagine how this would look if I had to report this back to the Council!"

"Then it'll stay a secret!" Anakin whooped, appreciating the feeling of Evelyn's arms wrapped around him.

He swerved them to the left, tightening her hold around his waist. They were both laughing to the point where their stomachs hurt, and she didn't find it so bad after all.

As they galloped towards the river, where a waterfall awaited them, Anakin tried to halt.

To no avail. His smile slowly faded. He tried again.

The shaak only seemed to gain speed, and it viciously dashed through the green and towards the roar of water.

30 meters.

"Anakin?" Evelyn's frantic call rang in his ears.

10 meters.

"Anakin!"

"Shit," he muttered. Anakin turned on his heels, taking her up into his arms and braced himself.

And just as the shaak feigned to head straight into the river, Anakin used the Force in panic to push it a sharp right, throwing them off its back and deep into the river.

The pressure hit them hard, water seizing their figures into its clutches. Evelyn felt herself wrapped against someone, and managed to open her eyes to see Anakin’s blurry figure inches away from her; strong arms wrapped around her, as if a protective shell from the impact.

Her heart dropped.

She took him with her as she rushed to the surface, ears popping to the angry bellow of the stream.

To her relief, and her wheezing composure, Anakin's blue eyes took her in, desperately surveying her, reflexively reaching for her.

"Are you okay?" he gasped nervously before she could ask. The two Padawans floated there, Evelyn's dress billowing around them.

Then she slapped him on the chest.

"Ow!"

"Why did you do that?!"

“What do you mean why did I-"

“You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"I'm sorry, are you really scolding me for prote-

"You don't need to protect me! We're both Jedi, Anakin!"

"I'm sorry, I just thought-”

"Well, don't!" she huffed. Her eyes were full of fear, and so was her Force signature- a mixture of colours that she would be ashamed to have. Colours of the dark.

Anakin saw it, and tried bringing her back to him. They held onto each other for what seemed like forever, brown meeting blue, chests heaving underwater. Her hair had come undone out of its tie, her lashes laced with droplets- he had never seen such beauty as he did then.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he said carefully, eyes shifting down to her lips dangerously. Just a split second.

She noticed how close they were, and she couldn't resist roaming her stare to his wet hair, his strong jaw, his eyes.

"But you have to admit that was fun,” he quietly said in between them, and it bled the red out of her mind, turning into soothing blue and starlight, like he always managed to do.

“Yeah," her eyes flickered down too, a smile creeping up her own, "It was."

Evelyn welcomed his scent to wash over her, mixing with the smell of fresh water and wind blown grass.

Anakin couldn't believe he had always had the privilege of being this close to her all his life, but only noticed how much he couldn't bear to be without it now.

Did she perhaps feel as tortured as he did?

Was this it?

Was this the moment he had been waiting for?

Surfacing from the depths out of nowhere, her lightsaber caught her attention.

And so she decided not.

The young Jedi pulled away, blinking rapidly as she kicked to the shore, a confused Anakin just on her toes.

The red fog was back, and this time it was consuming both of their hearts.

"Now can you just tell me what's wrong?" he asked frustratedly, trudging out onto the bank.

She angrily hauled the wet dress that weighed her down, now dead from its wistful life just moments before.

"What?" she asked stiffly, her back remained turned to him.

He who couldn't care less about how cold he felt from the water, ridding himself of his leather vest and outer robe to catch up to her.

"Seriously? You've avoided me since we got here, and it's been annoying the shit out of me."

"There's nothing wrong," she turned to him, wet waves accompanying her rigid features, "And even if there was, why would I necessarily need to tell you?"

"Because you always have no matter what" his feet automatically followed her traipse up the bank, long strides getting him next to her in no time, "We always have."

She visibly struggled to walk away faster in her sopping dress.

"Well, you don't need to know everything about me."

"But I do!"

"Well we're just friends, Anakin!" she did not stop, one expressive hand flinging in the air, "Sometimes, I wanna have my own mind to think with, and sometimes you'll have to deal with things yourself, too!"

At that, his anger flared. He grabbed her wrist and turned her equally enraged face to him.

"What is going on with you?" he exclaimed.

"Nothing!"

She yanked her wrist away from him, and they were face to face, having an almost-screaming match.

"Bullshit.”

"Look, you have every opportunity to talk to someone you genuinely care about, someone you’ve really liked since we were kids," she swung her arm behind her, implying Padme, "Her door is right next to yours, and I'm giving you a chance to do what you can't when we leave."

Anakin swallowed. He'll take the chance.

"Are you... jealous?"

"What? Why would I be jealous?"

He shook the sinking feeling off.

"Well, I am worried about you, Eve," his voice rose.

She turned back around, striding once more; he followed.

"There's no need, nothing is wrong."

"You're lying through your teeth." he heatedly said to her as they walked, "And you told me you never lie."

"And because that's so, maybe this is a reflection of your inability to trust me or be wrong,” she hollered back.

"No, Eve! I know you better than anyone else in the world- in the whole goddamn galaxy," he pointed an accusatory finger at her, "You're acting just like how you used to when we first met."

"No, I'm not! I'm just making sure you and Padme get all the time you can!" her strong voice wavered.

He stopped in his tracks, breathing heavy, looking at her longingly.

"But why does that have to come at such a steep cost?"

"What?" she whipped around, not quite believing what she heard.

"I feel like I'm losing you, Eve. It feels like you're making me choose when at the end of the day- at the end of it all- you are my best friend. And I refuse to let you go that easy."

"Ani-” she shook her head.

Breathe, trying her best not to let tears fall. Not here, not now.

"You're stuck with me, like you were 10 years ago, whether you like it or not.”

Both of them panted at the speed they had been playing chase, and they stood there planted, gouging out what was next to come.

She took a deep breath, letting go of her skirt and tucking her wet hair behind her ears out of habit.

"Ani, I am making you choose. Because the two of us, we, break the Code everyday, every mission, every second we serve under the Order."

"Well, then-"

"But you and Padme can hide this with the distance as horrible as it sounds. You guys can survive through it," Evelyn pushed past his urge to interrupt, "We have and will always be looked down on for being... best friends."

She couldn't stop it anymore; her voice broke as she looked away from him, suddenly cursing the sky for setting into the night that she loved.

"…What are you saying?" he croaked. The world had never been quieter.

“Maybe I'm telling you to make the right choice.

And it isn't me."

•〰️•

Traveling back was painful. Dinner was painful. Going to bed was painful.

It tormented Anakin to know that this was what heartbreak felt like, and he didn't know whether he would be able to mend it.

He didn't need to go to sleep to face a possible nightmare, for he felt he was already living in one.

The stars cried for him, pouring out compassion through their twinkling lights. There, in his bed with the moonlight bathing him, did his sorrows lie. Fear, anger, hate lead to the dark side; but every time he was scared, it drove him to fight harder. To fight harder for her. And why was that so bad?

But when has he ever liked losing? When had he ever been obedient?

Never. Especially not with her. But ultimately, she had chosen him over herself, prioritising him over whatever she may or may not have felt; it saddened him even more.

Anakin swung the duvet out of his way, leaning his elbows into his knees. Taking his loose, camel-coloured shirt from a chair, he slipped it on and treaded for the balcony with a tired rub of his eyes.

Stepping out into the cool midnight air, he looked to his right, a small twinge of hope to see Evelyn on her own balcony, melancholy dripping off of her.

But she wasn't there.

Of course she isn't.

She was the one who found solitude in her self-control. When she made up her mind, it was often too hard to change it.

He knew she was right deep down; he just couldn’t believe that he had lost her in the snap of his fingers, when he spent so long to even get close to her.

The cool stone ledge under his hands comforted him in a strange way, in a manner that even the stars couldn't; it grounde him back to reality, back to his present, back to the light of the Force-

Evelyn?

In the distance, just about to detach from the dock, was Evelyn's undeniable silhouette aboard a gondola.

Alarm rang throughout his body, and he stumbled around in a rush to get her.

No doubt, he would go after her.

Anakin pushed off from the balustrade, and ran faster than he ever had- through the dark corridor, down the grand staircase, and towards the docks.

"Eve!" he bellowed, running down countless steps, not keeping in mind who could've heard him.

For once, he thanked the years of rigorous training for his stamina. One foot in front of the other, he raced time to see Evelyn drifting further and further away from the shore- from him.

"Eve!" he cupped his hands over his mouth, heaving from the rush while he dreadfully stood at the very edge of the wood.

She didn't turn. She was painfully still, too; he feared the worst.

Was she leaving them? Was she under some sort of trick? Did someone get to her? Was she-

No.

Like always, Anakin acted impulsively, this time fuelled by an intoxicating amount of adrenaline.

He jumped.

He dove through the water less gracefully than he'd hoped, and swam until his whole body burned.

Don't go. Don't go. Don't go.

In time, the cold sting of the water motivated him to keep going.

Stroke by stroke, he could feel her presence intensify, and he had never been so glad to bask in it.

Seeing the tail of the gondola in the short moment he went up for air, Anakin stopped, grabbing onto it.

"Anakin?" he heard through muffled ears.

Thank the Maker.

Her startled face was illuminated by the blue glow of her lightsaber, but he didn't care, pulling himself up to join her from the loud splashing he had caused.

"What are you doing out here?" he gasped in confrontation.

"What are you doing out here?" she retaliated; no bags, not even properly dressed, nothing. He suddenly felt a little stupid; she’s had her fair share of sleepless nights, too.

Even after the ridiculous ordeal, as he shivered, he soaked in her perfect hair blanketing her shoulders, her sharp eyes softened just for him, and her in just her nightgown and robe.

Have mercy on me.

"Anakin Skywalker, are you insane?!" she tucked her lightsaber behind her, rushing to remove her robe to leave her arms and legs exposed to the cold air. She wrapped him in it, even though it was too short on him.

"Yes," he blurted out, "Deeply. For you. You've driven me mad. Crazy. Deranged."

He realised she was only half-listening, too preoccupied with drying him off.

"Clearly," she continued to pat him down- trying to ignore his nearly translucent shirt displaying the contours of his muscles- scowling through concentration, “What were you thinking? I could've sliced you in half! And you scared the shit out of me!"

“Please just listen to me," he implored, trying to catch her eye.

So, this is what she looks like in a nightgown.

He could definitely get used to it.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she sat back down across from him, boat rocking back and forth,"You could get sick!"

"Listen-"

"I can't take care of both Padme and you. You must be out of your mind to have just done that!"

"Can I just-"

"You've been acting half out of your mind since we got here," she harshly told him off.

"Evie."

She shut up from the urgency in his voice. Her face in that upset pout Anakin loved whenever he annoyed her, she waited.

'Then you tell her what you've always wanted to. And don't. Hold. Back.'

"Eve," he gulped, "You've been my best friend for, well, for a long time. It's been a long 10 years."

"Yeah, no shit."

"And I was too afraid, too cowardly," Gods, he was really doing this, "To tell you what I wanted."

He could tell she was still mad at him, especially given that she had completely closed her mind off from him.

"I want you," he whispered so softly, as if it might break them apart, "For worse or for better."

He kept his eyes on her, her increasingly surprised self. The more he spoke, the more he betrayed the Code.

To hell with it.

"I would wait for you, forever, no matter how long it takes. And I- I know I've broken your heart... but I want to be the one to put it back together. And to protect it, cherish it, love it."

He reached out to take her hand, pleased to find that she didn't pull back.

"If you will have me, the way I want you."

Something so wrong had never felt so right, and he was so addicted. Now, he didn't hold himself back from staring at her- his best friend.

Love may be forbidden in the Order, and both Padawans have continuously disagreed with it. To bring 'peace' meant to protect, to protect meant to love, and to love meant to fight. It didn't mean they were drawn to the Dark Side, but rather that they embraced the challenges, to know how to fight it, to beat it.

"But..." she finally sniffed out, the gleam glossing her eyes looking majestic to her partner in crime, “What about Padme?"

Anakin couldn't help but laugh, even though the face she made told him it was wrong.

"Eve," he held onto both of her hands now, "She helped us get together, helped me even get to this point. I was so lost, and when we finally saw her again, I knew I needed help from someone I could trust.”

At that, a tear finally rolled down her smooth cheek; Anakin gently wiped it away. She rarely cried, and he vowed the first time she did years ago to wipe it all away.

“I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise," he sincerely apologised, tucking her loose strands behind her ear, "I was too scared of our duty. Only to realise that I only did this- do this- duty because of you. It's always been you, even when I told you about Padme when we were kids. Even when Damon dared to challenge me in the courtyard."

I think I'm doing pretty alright with this.

“But what about the Code? And Master Kenobi and Gallia? And the rest of the Order? Ani, it's already been hard living everyday with the thought that something might happen to you, and now-"

She slapped his chest in the midst of her rant; it was a normal occurrence for them.

“You fucking sociopath!" she seethed through her flowing tears now, "Could've told me earlier!"

His laugh reverberated through his chest. He pulled her close to him, and pressed a tender, loving kiss on her forehead; so full of his caged emotions.

And so he realised, she, too, was betraying her whole life's purpose for this. For them.

“We'll figure it out. And, I mean, judging by your reaction," he pulled away, playing with her Padawan braid, "You feel the same way?"

She glared up at him, aggressively wiping her cheeks, "Yes, you dumbass! You should've told me before I looked like a fool, running around to get you two together for the past month!"

"I know," he sheepishly said, "I really wasn't good at the whole love thing. But what Jedi is, right?"

Her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly, and she sniffed, "Lo- you... love me?"

He smirked at her.

"I mean... I could not, I guess."

"Yeah? We’ll see how that goes waterboy," she threatened, giggling at his embarrassment.

Gods, he wanted to kiss her.

“You’ve always been and are so beautiful,” he cupped her warm cheek in his hand, “Almost lost my shit when I saw you in that dress.”

They both chortled, reminding themselves of the unpredictable day they had had.

“And we have got to sneak some of those nightgowns back,” Anakin’s smirk grew twice the size when she hid her face from him.

He realised he was wrong.

He believed now that in every universe they existed in, he would always find his way to her, he would always choose her, and he would always love her. Always.

"I love you," he confirmed.

Her eyes came up to flash in between his.

"Okay"

Huh?

Anakin's eyes bulged out.

"What-"

"I'm just kidding," she chuckled.

Her hands small compared to his own, though to him fitting perfectly, tugged him closer by her robe around his broad shoulders.

A canvas of colours blurred their visions, the pair allowing the paints of their passion taint the Force flowing between them.

She dared to creep closer, their knees brushing against one another, and she said with the most depth as she could, drawing straight from her heart,

"I love you."

“You promise?" he loved her smile, even if it was tinted with tears and her natural blush; he mirrored it unconsciously.

Evelyn tilted her head playfully, "I never lie to you, remember?"

With Padme and R2 cheering from their balcony as faithful witnesses, with the night sky ceremoniously hosting them as a mutual friend, and with the stars gifting them their blessing-

They kissed.

•〰️•

“You just lied to me again."

"…Yeah...we have a lot to talk about…”

•〰️•

a/n: got a bit carried away... i had more written, and with more detail, but i decided i couldnt possibly put everything in. anyways, one can imagine the aftermath- teasing, questioning each other, them going thru and talking out all of their feelings n miscommunications haha. hope whoever reads this enjoys! Imk if u have suggestions, prompts or just comments :)

#hayden christensen #star wars #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #sw prequels #anakin fanfiction #star wars anakin #original female character #r2d2 #Spotify

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 5 months

Note

I don’t care about his haters I want to hear about buggy’s qualities 😭😭😭

i let this one sit in my inbox for a while because your phrasing kept making me laugh. i hope you don’t mind the delayed response.

buggy’s qualities! (note i did not specify good qualities or bad qualities.) let’s get into them.

already established in that post:

greedy (obviously)

selfish (obviously)

two-faced (very obviously)

loyal (limited applications)

self-preserving (a strong instinct)

untrustworthy (almost comically obviously so)

trusting (to the point of naïveté)

an interesting, contradictory lineup. what else is there to buggy?

he has very romantic notions of piracy.

despite saying the only thing that matters to him is treasure & the acquisition thereof, the way he acts says otherwise. he parties at the drop of a hat (improving crew morale). when his crew, thinking he’s dead, has moved on, even going so far as to adopt a new captain and flag (after… how long have they been apart, exactly? weeks? days?), he rescues them, no questions asked. he weeps to hear how badly he was missed after his arrest, how proud his crew was to hear of his involvement at the paramount war, and he returns both sentiments instantly. the captain-crew bond means something to him. (small wonder why.)

he turns up his nose at crocodile’s deeply unromantic “piracy is a business” mindset—buggy doesn’t care about building capital, he wants to find the one piece! who needs a five-year plan when you can just find the biggest, best treasure that ever existed right now?!

oh, hey, related to that:

he’s impulsive.

why make a plan when you can just do things?! who needs to learn anything from these soft-hearted pirates—buggy’s got a treasure map and a devil fruit worth more money than he’s ever seen in his life! he’s gonna head out on his own ASAP! that should be no problem at all… for this pre-teen… on the grand line. mm hm.

he wants to get back on the grand line and find the one piece—or captain john’s treasure—or any other treasure he finds a map for, really. how? well, he’ll follow the map, obviously! …and when that leads him into danger?

he can be inattentive.

more specifically, he gets fixated on his goal—treasure, killing luffy, silently panicking, yelling at shanks, whatever—to the point that he somehow misses everything else going on around him. does not notice shanks walking up behind him—twice. does not notice smoker or his officers surrounding his men until it’s too late. walks into a cave that’s actively being mined because he thinks treasure might be there. walks into a well-appointed navy garrison because he thinks treasure might be there!

he doesn’t notice he’s standing next to whitebeard—you know, the nearly twenty-two foot tall man—until he hears the guy call him by an insulting name.

buggy makes rash decisions and has a short temper—a dangerous combination.

he hears insults where none are intended, and lashes out violently—maybe lethally?—and sometimes when insults are intended, he doesn’t bother to wonder who’s offered the insult until after he’s fired one back. at which point he may wilt like a daisy, if the person he’s insulted turns out to be, say, whitebeard.

(why yes, i do think that moment is hysterical. not least because i suspect whitebeard cannot remember buggy’s name, and calls him red-nose because that’s all he does remember about him.)

but even at his most weak-kneed, fawn response, pathetic little guy, we have to keep in mind:

he’s charismatic and inspirational.

and i’m not just talking about the impel down guys! his original crew were just as impressed by him—though maybe impressed and terrified in equal measure?—at the start of the orange town arc. they were confident in his victory over these three weirdos to the point of cockiness, just laughing when zoro cut buggy down. they’re really shaken when luffy, after a few minutes of devil fruit v devil fruit combat, totally curb-stomps buggy. they prefer to believe he’s just not taking the fight seriously yet.

they’re fully convinced of his strength, cleverness, and power!

…now i’m not saying their impression of him is based in reality.

buggy’s an excellent bullshitter.

but it’s not enough to just tell a good lie, you also have to be convincing about it. (usopp, early on, is more entertaining than convincing—a good liar of a different flavor. storyteller, not self-promoter.) and while there are plenty of characters who can see through buggy’s act (to name a few: alvida, galdino, luffy (sometimes), most of luffy’s crew, most of the named characters who broke out of impel down…), there are plenty who can’t.

buggy’s “who am i?!”/“captain buggy!” chanting with his crew is not super original, maybe, but it sure gets his men pumped up. his “let’s go after the one piece!” rant in ch 1082 doesn’t impress crocodile or mihawk, but when he airs it to cross guild as a whole it sets things in motion such that the two of them can’t do shit to stop it.

…and that’s buggy as i see him, more or less! let me know if you think i’ve forgotten something! i certainly may have, or i may have lumped the trait you’re thinking of in under one of these other headings, but you won’t know unless you ask.

#asked and answered #one piece #buggy #*buggy’s insecurities

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brewsterispunkk · 1 year

Text

PART SEVEN: KISS HER, YOU FOOL

pairing: benny miller x reader, benny miller x virgin!reader

WC: 6.3k

warnings: 18+, smut! (wrap it up, folks), dirty talk, talk of virginity, loss of virginity

summary: benny finds something out about you, and makes an offer.

A/N: it’s here. y’all have waited long enough. also please note I’ve never written smut before so if u hate it please let me know LOL. without further ado:

PART SEVEN: KISS HER, YOU FOOL

You didn’t remember high school with much fondness. Surprising, you know.

The fact was, in high school you didn’t do much more than try to keep yourself afloat academically. When you weren’t in class or studying, you were at rehearsal or choir practice, and when you weren’t there were trailing after Joy or Leda or Rosie. That, combined with your mother’s overbearing nature, meant that what most other people experienced in high school, you missed out on.

You went to school dances, but only with your friends (which you’d been assured was more fun anyway). You’d gone to parties, mostly as a designated driver for Joy, but you always refused to drink, no matter how many were offered to you. You always had an excuse: you were driving that night, or you didn’t like tequila, or the guy handing you the drink was a known creep. Whatever it was, you didn’t have your first drink until after you graduated, which was fine by you.

You didn’t smoke weed until your senior year of college, when Rosie was home for Christmas and you’d all decided “fuck it, let’s smoke.” It’d been hilarious, the three of you laughing obnoxiously at some obscure Disney movie, as Leda shook her head fondly from the couch, bent over the sweater she was knitting for Joy’s cat. It was what made you realize that you didn’t really mind being a late bloomer. Not when you got moments like this. Besides, it mattered who you were with, not what you were doing. In your opinion, anyway.

When you were a Freshman in High School, you went on your first date.

It was with Gordon Schlepp, and half-way through the movie he took you to, he tried to put his hand up your skirt.

You’d smacked his hand away and raced from the theater before he could get a word in edgewise. When your mother had picked you up 30 minutes later, your face was streaked with tears and you swore that you wouldn’t date another boy until you were grown up and out of high school. You’d kept that promise.

So, yes. It was safe to say that you were something of a late bloomer, and for the most part you were okay with that. But.

Throughout college, you’d had the odd boyfriend here and there, and a girlfriend or two, but none that had stuck. And while you were certainly no blushing maiden when it came to matters of sex and sexual pleasure, you still hadn’t fully… debuted. You just never got around to it, or at least that’s what you told yourself. There had just always seemed like there were things that were more important, or that the time wasn’t right.

You had come close a few times, but had changed your mind for one reason or another. Once, a guy you’d been dating for six months had blown up on you when you’d told him you weren’t ready to have sex. He’d confessed that he’d been cheating anyway. Another time, when you’d told the boy you’d been seeing that you were a virgin he’d run for the hills then, breaking up with you on the spot. Since then, you’d decided to keep the virgin card close to your chest when it came to relationships of any kind–not just romantic ones. The people you dated didn’t need to know until the time came (if the time came), and you told yourself that the people that mattered wouldn’t care.

You hoped so anyway.

You weren’t in a hurry. You honestly believed that the whole concept and stress on virginity was bullshit anyway. Your sexual experience, or lack thereof, held no weight on who you were as a person, so why should it matter? It didn’t make you any more or less juvenile than anyone else. In your mind, it was something that would happen when it was time, when you were ready, and when you wanted it. Until then, you didn’t stress yourself out about it much.

Until Benny.

- - - -

“Oh come on.” Benny droned from beside you on the couch, spread out with one knee crossed under him.

You snorted from beside him, taking a bite of the Ben and Jerry’s you knew he kept in his freezer just for you, no matter how many times he claimed otherwise.

“What?” You asked amusedly, licking your spoon clean.

It had been a little over a week since you, Benny, Santi, and Everett had moved Benny back into his lead paint-free apartment. The three of you had also convinced Benny to let you help him decorate the place, as before, the apartment had only the essentials. It was a bachelor-pad in every sense; lacking in any character. The only signs that a person, not a robot, lived there were a few photos of Benny and the guys sitting on his bookshelf, and the polaroid of the two of you from Alma’s birth stuck to the fridge with a magnet. A trip to HomeGoods and a few thrift stores, as well as Lowe’s for some houseplants, had brightened the place up and had it looking more lived-in than sterile.

“Nothing, that’s just so unrealistic.” He nodded to the couple on the T. V.

It was movie night, and it had been Benny’s turn to pick. Per usual, he’d chosen a feel-good, low budget rom-com from the early 2000s. He loved rom-coms unashamedly, something the guys snorted at. To you, though, it helped you understand him just a little bit better. One of the first times you’d spent time with him, you asked him if he was a romantic. He’d said, “I used to be.” At the time, you’d thought it was sad, heartbreaking that someone so kind as him had been scarred by the world so much. Now though, with months and months of friendship at your back, you saw that he had been lying; No matter how much he tried to deny it, he was a romantic at heart.

“Like, when would that ever happen?” Benny asked. You set your attention back to the film.

The two leads, who had been sneaking around their workplace to hide their forbidden relationship, had just slinked into a janitor’s closet for a sneaky hook-up. You rolled your eyes at Benny.

“I don’t know,” you tilted your head at the screen. “You’d be surprised what people will do to avoid H. R.”

“Oh my god,” Benny threw his head back and laughed, a big, booming thing that filled up your whole chest. “Last week, Lance got reported to H. R. Apparently he, like, wouldn’t stop propositioning Krista.”

“Ew,” you wrinkled your nose. “Did he get fired?”

“‘Unpaid leave,’” Benny used air-quotes. “Whatever the hell that means. I hope they fire him, though.”

“He’s had it coming for a while, it seems.”

“Yeah, that’s the understatement of the year.” He rolled his eyes. “He’s such a creep.”

“I remember.” You agreed. A few months ago, when Benny’s truck was in the shop, you’d gone to the gym to pick him up and had, unfortunately, encountered Lance. In the fifteen minutes that you’d had to wait for Benny, Lance had managed to ask you out, leer at you, and make a comment about your breasts. You thought that that must be some kind of record. “He creeped me out when I met him.”

“Yeah,” Benny’s expression moved from annoyed to deadly. “I almost beat his ass for that, even before you told me what he said.”

“What do you mean?” You looked at him, puzzled.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he said nonchalantly, eyes focused on the television once more. Your heart stuttered, and a thrill shot through your gut.

You cursed yourself for it. You hated that a phrase that was so possessive could have that effect on you. If you’d heard those words from anyone else, you would’ve been livid. After all, you were your own person; a woman grown. You’d made your own way in the world without a man looking out for you or dictating who could or could not look at you. But this was Benny. And something about those words coming out of his mouth set off something primal in you.

“Well,” you coughed, cursing yourself for your awkwardness. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way around H.R. Guys like him always do.”

“Yeah.” he agreed. A beat passed before he turned to you, eyes alight with mischief. “Wait,” he said. “How do you know so much about this? Are you in a secret office romance?”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning towards you. You rolled your eyes, pushing him away, a laugh on your lips.

“You know that my love life is depressing as hell, Ben,” you gave him a knowing look. He chuckled at that. “Actually—and you didn’t hear this from me—Jen and Robb are hooking up and she’s been telling me all about how she’s avoiding telling H.R.”

“Ha,” Benny laughed. “How long do you think until she gets caught?”

“You know Jen,” you tilted your head at him. “She can’t keep a secret to save her life. I give it a month, tops.”

“That’s being generous,” he countered. “I give it two weeks.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

You both turned back to the screen, the conversation having easily tapered off.

A few minutes later came the dramatic, romantic love confession characteristic of all romantic comedies. The male lead had confessed his undying love for his lover on the rooftop of their work building, the lights of New York City in the background. Finally was the passionate kiss, with the cheesiest instrumental you’d ever heard overtop. The camera panned out to the night sky, as the two collapsed into each other’s arms, clothes falling away on the rooftop.

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “That is absolutely disgusting.”

“Honestly, I mean how much was their budget? That was awful.” Benny snorted beside you.

“It’s so unsanitary.”

“What?” Benny laughed, turning to you. You looked at him like he’d grown three heads.

“Them fucking on that nasty rooftop,” you clarified. “I mean, a janitor’s closet is one thing, but a rooftop? In New York? That’s vile.”

Benny raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’d be surprised where people will fuck if the, ahem, need arises.” Benny said matter-of-factly.

“I don’t even wanna know what you mean by that.” You laughed at him.

“Okay. It was one time, when I was like, 20, and the bathroom wasn’t even that gross–”

“---what part of ‘I don’t want to know’ did you not understand?”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed, shoving your shoulder. “Like you’ve never hooked up in a bar bathroom before.”

“I haven’t!” You shoved him right back. “Benny, that's disgusting.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he nudged you with the shoulder that was now pressed against yours.

“I will not,” you shook your head obstinately. “That’s fucking vile.”

“Alright,” he turned to you. Your gaze met his, the movie long forgotten. “Where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex then?”

You opened your mouth for a moment, before snapping it shut, eyes narrowing to slits. What was he getting at here?

You shook your head at him, a nervous laugh escaping you.

“Come on, I told you mine!” He laughed. “It can’t be worse than a seedy bar bathroom.”

A familiar seed of anxiety bloomed in your chest, panicking. Your eyes darted away from his playful gaze.

“Benny–”

“Oh my god, is it worse than that?”

“No, I–”

“It is!” He laughed. “Now you have to tell me!”

“Benny.” You said his name a bit more firmly, your eyes not meeting his, instead choosing to focus on a spot on the wall.

“I don’t have any.” Your eyes met his, where confusion lurked.

Oh God, you were gonna have to spell it out for him. You sighed.

“I’m a virgin,” you said it harshly. Plain as day.

He looked at you sarcastically.

“Yeah, sure, fine. Don’t tell me.”

When you were silent, he looked at you again with disbelief, understanding finally crossing his face. His eyes widened.

“No fucking way.” He squinted for a moment, before barking out a laugh, throwing his head back with his hands over his eyes.

“Thanks Ben,” you said prickly, voice sharp, before leaning over to grab your bag from where it sat on the floor beside the couch.

You felt your eyes burn, that familiar pit of shame blooming in your chest.

Of course, you thought. Why had you thought he would react any differently?

You had let your guard down and it had happened again. You could handle many things, but Benny looking at you like you were pathetic was not one of them. You felt the humiliation like a pit in your stomach, and moved to get up, eager to leave, to just get out of this situation.

“Look, I’m gonna go–” you began softly, but Benny’s warm hand on your forearm stopped you.

“No, wait honey.” He said, voice easy. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…surprising.”

“Why is that so surprising, Ben?” You asked defensively. “I didn’t think you’d care so much, it’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t.” He affirmed. The two of you were now sitting cross-legged facing each other on the couch. The movie was nothing more than a buzz in the background.

“Then why did you laugh?”

“It’s not–you–I didn’t mean,” Benny cut himself off with a groan. “You’re just.”

He stopped himself again. You raised your eyebrows.

“I’m what?”

“You’re…” he trailed off. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You knew what he must’ve been thinking.

“I’m pathetic, naive, childish–”

“You’re gorgeous.” The passion and bluntness with which he said it stole your words. You gaped at him. He continued.

“You’re stunning. You’re smart, and funny, and kind, and fucking beautiful, and I guess I just find that hard to believe.”

“I–thanks.” you said lamely, feeling your cheeks burning. “I’m not like, saving myself or anything. It’s not for lack of trying.”

“What do you mean?” He looked puzzled. You sighed.

“I didn’t do anything in high school. But in college, I had boyfriends, girlfriends, and every time I came close, I just… couldn’t.”

“Huh,” he said. “Are you scared or something?”

“No,” you laughed. “I guess I just never liked anyone enough. And once when I did think I was ready and told the guy, he backed out.”

“What, why?” Benny asked like it was the most absurd thing he’d heard.

“Something about how ‘pathetic it was to be a 21-year-old virgin,’”

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Benny said. “Like, a complete idiot. I do not know of one guy who wouldn’t jump at an opportunity like that. No offense.”

You laughed. “Gross, Ben.”

“I’m just sayin’” He shrugged.

Okay, you told yourself. Okay, this is fine.

You felt your chest relax a little bit. You’d hoped Benny would be fine with it, that he wouldn’t be weird, but in the back of your head you’d always dreaded this conversation. He’d proved what you already knew, though. That he was a good person, and an even better friend. He wouldn’t judge you for something like this.

“I honestly just wanna get it over with,” you said blandly, spooning another bite of ice cream into your mouth. “I almost did get it over with, about a month ago.”

“What?” Benny looked at you with disbelief. “With tinder guy?”

“Uh…” you winced, already knowing what his reaction was going to be. “Yeah.”

It was true; and you weren’t proud of it. You’d had tinder downloaded since your first month in Florida, but hadn’t used it much since you had bet Benny and the guys. But, after a particular movie night with Benny about a month back, where he’d fallen asleep on your shoulder and you’d been faced with how good he smelled for a whole evening, you got back on and messaged a match.

The date had been fine. Mediocre at best, but he was good looking enough, and he’d made his intentions to take you home with him abundantly clear. And you needed a distraction. Though you talked a lot of shit about virginity not mattering much to you, god, were you ready to lose it. It had begun to feel like some dark cloud over your head, like a scarlet letter. Perhaps it was because you had been living in such close quarters with Benny, or maybe it was some type of hormonal thing, but either way: you were pent up. That was the best way of putting it. So, you’d decided fuck it, let’s get it over with. And you almost had, until he’d had his hand in your pants and the only thing you could think about was Benny.

Benny’s smile, Benny’s voice, Benny’s hands.

You couldn’t go through with it. Benny made a disgusted noise. You glared at him.

“What?” He asked. “He was gross.”

“He wasn’t!”

“He had a pony-tail!” He looked at you like you were crazy. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Why though?” Benny asked. “You said the date wasn’t even that good.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “When I said I really want to get it over with, I meant I really want to get it over with, Ben.”

A beat of silence passed, but not an uncomfortable one. Benny was carefully considering his words. You could practically hear him thinking. You could feel the heat of his arm against yours through your shirt, his hip pressed against yours.

“So why do you think you couldn’t go through it, then?” he asked, voice gentle. It was so different from the teasing tone in which the two of you had been joking a few moments ago that you almost laughed. But one look into his eyes stole any amusement from your mind. His deep eyes bored into yours.

“It’s like,” you began, before stopping, turning to face him again. “It’s like, I want to lose it, right? Like I want to have sex, trust me. I just don’t know if I can do it with a complete stranger.”

You missed the way Benny’s eyes flashed at that statement.

His mouth opened to respond, but you weren’t done. The words kept coming.

“I want it to be with someone I trust and who I care about, but by the time I’ll get there in, like, any relationship, they’ll already be expecting sex, or if they’re not, then it will just scare them away.”

By the end, your tone had changed from normal to frustrated. Because that’s what you were: frustrated. In every sense. And the man sitting next to you with wide eyes and red cheeks was doing nothing to help that.

For a moment, the two of you sat there in silence.

“Sorry,” you said lamely. “That was a lot, I know.”

“No!” Benny said a little too loudly, before coughing under his breath, and repeating, “no. No, you’re fine, honey.”

“I just wish I could get it over with.”

What he said next stole your breath from your lungs.

“I could do it.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, studying your face calmly. Your mouth fell half open.

A pregnant silence followed, as you gaped, completely at a loss for words.

“You—what?”

“I said, I could do it.” His eyes lacked any of the usual humor—he was serious about this. “You said you wanted to get it out of the way, right?”

“I–well, yeah, but–”

“We don’t have to, honey. Say the word and we can put on another movie and forget this conversation ever happened. But the offer’s there.”

“You–you would do that?” You sputtered. You felt like you’d been hit with a truck at this offer. Until twenty minutes ago, you had no idea Benny even thought you were pretty, now he was offering to take your virginity, and give you what you’d been dreaming about for months.

“Would I do that?” Benny repeated your question to you incredulously. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them, a quiet determination in them. “I would’ve done that the day I met you, honey.”

Your breath stuttered. You just looked at him with wide eyes, flabbergasted, a familiar pulse of desire in your gut. Your heart was in your throat as you considered it.

Did you want this? Obviously, you did. It was practically all you’d been thinking about for months. You couldn’t remember the amount of times that you’d accidentally almost called out Benny’s name during the early hours of the morning with your hand between your legs. He’d gotten under your skin—so much that he might as well have made a home there. What you felt for him was unparalleled to anything you’d felt for anyone in your entire life. So much so that not only the thought of sex with him, but the thought of everything with him was all that you wanted. You’d gotten only a small taste of what it would be like to be with Benny Miller and the thought of going the rest of your life without it made your heart ache. If he was giving you this; another small piece of what it was to be with him, you would take it. Even if it just meant he was doing you a favor.

Benny took your silence for discomfort and cleared his throat, scooting a few inches away from you.

“It’s alright, we can forget this ever happened—”

“No!” You said a bit too forcefully, practically leaping at him. Your hands found his shoulders, and you were sat on your knees beside him on the couch. His eyes widened a bit and his hands went to your waist to steady you so you didn’t fall onto him. Your face was closer to his than it had been since that night at Mikey’s party. You could see the light, barely-there freckles dusting his nose and cheeks as he furrowed his brows at you skeptically.

“Are you sure, honey? We don’t have to—”

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed his cheek and pressed your lips to his, catching him by surprise. For a moment, he just sat there, unmoving, taken aback by the gesture. But after a second of shock, he melted.

His lips parted beneath your own, and he sighed, the sound sending shivers down your spine, a familiar fluttering feeling in your gut. His hands around your waist tightened as he pulled you closer, a small sound escaping from the back of his throat. Almost roughly, he pulled you into his lap, your legs parting to straddle him. His hand moved to your face, angling your head more towards him, his tongue parting your lips ever so slightly, before he pulled back.

“God,” he rumbled, voice deeper than usual. He squeezed your hips as his forehead fell against yours, leaning into you. “I wanted to be the one to do that.”

You laughed lightly, looking into his eyes, which were softly and amusedly trained on you.

“Do it, then.” You challenged, shifting your hips just barely. His grip tightened. It surprised you how easy this was: the banter. Here you were, sitting on your best friend’s lap, face flushed, all hot-and-bothered, and it wasn’t weird. Not in the slightest. If anything, this felt natural.

You continued, the teasing too tempting to pass up. “Or not, if you’re too scared—mmph.”

His lips against yours cut you off. And god, it was sinful.

Benny knew how to kiss. He angled you just perfectly toward him, a hand on your cheek and another around your waist. You melted into him, your arm reaching, grasping around his back, your other sliding into his always-messy hair. He breathed you in, kissing you with such passion that you felt your heart stutter. You bent like a tree in the wind, leaning into him. His mouth parted yours gently, his tongue coming to slide against yours fiercely, sinfully. His hands moved to your torso, smoothing, feeling up your waist. When he pulled you closer, you felt a firmness against your sex from where you sat pressed to his front, evidence that he was enjoying this just as much as you were. Not being able to help yourself, you pressed your hips further down, a moan escaping you from the friction.

Benny moaned in response, jerking at the movement, his hands coming down to squeeze your hips, your ass. He broke apart, panting.

“This okay?” He asked, out of breath, kissing you quickly on the lips while he spoke. You hummed, his lips moving to the corner of your mouth and then down your jaw.

“Baby,” he breathed. “Is this okay?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course that’s what he was concerned about right now. Ever the gentleman, Benny was.

His hands started to move northward, away from your ass, but you reached back and planted them firmly back in place. You leaned back, looking him in the eyes. His were hooded, almost delirious as they stared into yours. You gave him a deep, slow kiss on the lips before pulling back just barely.

“Yes, Benjamin.” you teased. “This is more than okay.”

He made a small noise in the back of his throat before pulling you closer, lips meeting yours again, grinding you in his lap with a newfound fervor. You moaned into his mouth, hips rolling to meet his. The friction was growing between your legs, your breath deepening.

If this had happened in any other situation, you would have been mortified. Here you were, grinding on your best friend’s lap, about to come in your pants like a teenager. But, this was Benny. You didn’t think you could be embarrassed with him even if you tried.

Benny’s mouth moved down to your chin, your jawline, your neck, pressing deep, wet kisses there. When he found a particular spot under your jaw, you jolted, a barely-there squeak leaving your throat. Benny stopped, and you could feel his lips curling against your neck as he sucked harder on the spot.

A louder moan left you, and you smacked his shoulder, causing him to chuckle.

“Not nice,” you panted out with no real venom, eyes closed, head tipped back.

“Hmm,” Benny hummed, head coming up to kiss you messily on the mouth. “Too bad. I’m never letting you live that down.”

You threw your head back in a laugh, before he resumed his ministrations on your neck, causing your breath to falter.

He continued down your neck, drawing multiple such sounds out of you. You had no doubt that you’d have multiple marks there tomorrow.

After a particularly strong roll of your hips against his, Benny grasped them firmly, halting your movement. An almost pained sound escaped him. You pulled back from his lips, eyes hooded. His face was tinged red, and his lips were as flushed as you imagined yours were.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, nose brushing his.

“Honey,” he chuckled a bit, shaking his head against your forehead. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come in my pants and this is gonna be over quick.”

Your breath stuttered, and your stomach did a somersault, surging with pride that it was you that had him in this state. You that got to see him like this.

“Oh,” you just breathed. His hands tightened on your waist, his pinkies toying with the edge of your shorts.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, looking into your eyes. “Are we really gonna do this?”

“I’m sure.” You said steadily, no nerves betraying you because you didn’t have any. You’d never been more sure of anything in your whole life. “Are you? If you don’t want to–”

“Baby,” he groaned. “Believe me, I want to. I just want to make sure you are sure—”

“Benny.” You grabbed either side of his face. “I’ve never been more sure.” Your eyes held his for a moment, but he still looked skeptical.

Damn him and his noble pretenses, you thought.

“But,” you continued. “If you’re bailing I could always call tinder guy again–”

“No,” he said in a tone that sent your stomach fluttering. He pulled you that much closer. You giggled, brushing his hair back from his forehead, a lovesick expression on your face. You were too giddy to hide it, though.

You kissed his lips, then his chin, then his jaw, letting your hand wander down his torso to his hips. His breathing shallowed as you did, his head leaning back. When you squeezed him through his jeans, he hissed, groaning, before his hand shot down to remove yours. You pulled back, confused, afraid you’d overstepped.

“Not yet, honey.” He said, palming the side of your face. Your brows furrowed. “If we’re gonna do this, I’m gonna have to open you up for me first.”

“Okay,” you replied shakily. Benny smiled at you slyly.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, sliding you closer on his lap. “Relax, honey.” He purred, undoing the tie on your lounge shorts. “We can stop whenever you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t wanna, agh!”

His hand between your legs cut you off. You let out a strangled cry, grabbing his shoulder.

“Shhh,” he mumbled into your ear, head bowing down to your neck to press lazy kisses there again. “You’re too tense, baby. Relax for me.”

You let out a deep breath as he stroked between your legs at the slick that had gathered there.

“That's it,” he hummed, biting your neck a bit. “You’re so wet, honey. Is this all for me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his finger stroking up your slit to your clit stopped you, the only sound escaping your lips a heady moan.

“There it is,” he mumbled, focusing more on the spot. You moaned into his neck, just as he pushed one finger into you. “That feel okay, baby?”

It wasn’t an intrusion, you were used to as much when you touched yourself.

“Yeah,” you breathed more than said. “More, Benny.”

He hummed, pushing another finger in. It was a stretch, but not an uncomfortable one. All the while, his thumb was stroking your slit and around your clit. You began to move your hips in time with his hand, your breathing growing deeper.

“That’s it honey,” Benny kissed your neck. “You’re doing so well. Think you can take another one?”

You hummed affirmatively, and just as his third finger breached you, his thumb pressed down on your clit. You came with a jerk against his chest, a wrecked, debauched sound leaving your throat. Benny let you ride it out, stroking slower, whispering little praises into your ear.

“That’s it, baby. You did so good.” He kissed the side of your head, your cheeks, your lips. “Make the prettiest sounds.”

You pressed your face into the side of his neck, catching your breath, when he delicately removed his hand from your pants. You whined noncommittally, boneless, practically draped over Benny. He chuckled, and leaned you back, before bringing his hand up to his lips and sucking the fingers clean.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “I knew you would taste good.”

Your mouth fell open. If he were any other person, you would’ve been disgusted, but Benny managed to make cleaning your mess off his hands the most sexy thing you’d ever seen.

Without thinking you blurted, “can we have sex now?” Your voice more than a little breathless.

Benny just laughed, pressing his face to yours in a messy, dirty kiss. When he pulled away, your breath was short again.

“We can do that, honey.” His eyes glittered with mirth as he said it, and before you knew it, his hands were around your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder. You shrieked, surprised by the sudden flip.

“Benny!” You said as he got up, walking down the hall. “Put me down.”

He lightly smacked your thigh, laughing as he barreled toward the bedroom. You laughed in response, knowing that you probably wouldn’t have been able to walk anyway after what had just transpired on the couch.

- - - -

When you got to the bedroom, he threw you on the bed.

You laughed, leaning back on your hands. Benny threw off his shirt, before falling on the bed with you, lips meeting yours, a push and pull. You leaned up, pushing him to sit down and moving to sit on his lap once again.

He grunted when you reached down, popping the button on his jeans and reaching into his boxers.

When your hand circled the hard length of him, he let out a pained, raw moan, kissing your neck. As you stroked up and down, he kissed you deeper, biting you whenever you squeezed especially hard.

Yeah, you were definitely going to have marks tomorrow, you thought. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

As his breathing grew more rushed, you felt something warm leaking from him. You brushed your thumb over the tip of him, wiping it away and stroking harder.

“Hmmph,” he moaned painfully, pulling your hand out of his pants. He pressed his forehead to yours, catching his breath. “You’ve gotta stop that.”

You laughed, choosing to be bold. You reached behind you and pulled the top of your T-shirt over your head, knowing you were wearing nothing underneath.

Benny just stared at you, opened mouth, as sat in front of him, your bare breasts on full display.

“Lay down. Now.” he finally said, leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, falling back onto the bed, and as soon as you did, he pounced.

He fell over you, groaning as his bare chest pressed to yours.

He kissed you fiercely, his lips immediately separating yours with his tongue. You moaned at the force of it all. His hands moved down to your chest, palming and squeezing them lightly. He groaned as he separated from you.

“God, you’re trying to kill me.” He said matter-of-factly, moving to kiss down your collarbones. “How are you so perfect?”

You let out a breathy laugh, your head falling back as he began to kiss down your breast.

“I’m not–” you began half-heartedly, before he stopped you.

“You are.” He affirmed, kissing your sternum. “You’re strong, sexy, and soft. I can’t believe I get to have this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the reverence in his voice. Ditto, you wanted to say.

“Benny,” you mumbled instead. He hummed in affirmation. “Take off your pants.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled. He pulled off his pants and boxers in one foul swoop, as you shimmied out of your own shorts.

You grabbed him, stroking up and down, opening your legs for him to fit between them.

“Honey,” he breathed against your face. “Are you—”

“If you ask me if I’m sure one more time, I’m going to punch you, Benny.”

He laughed, kissing your lips and your cheek, before grabbing at your waist.

“I’ll go slow,” He said earnestly, leaning over you, already lined up between your legs. You nodded, kissing the side of his head, right beside his eye, as he pushed in.

The stretch wasn’t painful. It wasn’t even uncomfortable as much as it was foreign, a new weight in your hips, stretching you a bit. Your brows furrowed as he slowly pushed in. He kissed you there, asking if it hurt. When you shook your head and urged him on, he made the final thrust, until he was fully seated inside you.

He lay still for a moment. When your walls fluttered, he groaned, his forehead falling to yours.

“You ok?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yeah.”

“You feel perfect, honey,” he said, shimmying his hips to get you used to him a bit. You moaned lightly at the feeling, never having felt so full, so close to another person. “Better than I imagined. Like you were made for me.”

The line sent a thrill of possessiveness through you.

Yes, you thought. Mine. He’s mine and I’m his.

He had imagined you like you’d imagined him? You mentally kicked yourself, realizing that this could have happened weeks ago if you’d only known.

“You,” you began breathily, “you imagined me?”

Benny huffed a laugh into your neck, like he genuinely thought what you said was funny.

“Every damn day,” he said with finality, before shifting a bit.

“You okay if I move?” He asked, voice strained. You nodded, running your fingers through his hair.

“Yes,” you moaned.

You looked at him, eyes glazed over, face flushed, brows drawn together in pleasure, and felt your climax building. You began to move your hips against his gently, still not fully used to the intrusion but also wanting more friction. As if sensing it, Benny’s hand moved down between your legs to touch you there while his own thrusts picked up speed.

You moaned around him, your muscles clenching. He reacted as if he was struck, leaning more of his weight over you, moaning wantonly.

“God, baby.” He half-spoke, half-moaned. He gripped your hips tighter. “I’m not going to last.”

“That’s okay,” you panted, nails scratching his scalp. You felt him shiver against you. “It’s okay, just come, Benny.”

His fingers began to move more purposefully, and you felt that familiar chord snap in you, your second release of the night coming. As if spurred on by yours, Benny’s hips thrusted twice more, before he came with a shudder and a moan.

After a moment to come down, he kissed you again, this one less rushed than the others, but just as messy. His lips parted yours, his tongue sliding against yours. He cupped your face with pure adoration. After, he pulled away to look at you with so much love in his eyes that it made your breath hitch.

“Was that okay?” He asked, still out of breath. He was leaning his chin on your chest. You looked down at him and laughed.

“You mean I could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

It was his turn to laugh, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. Against your will, you yawned. He hummed, sidling up behind you and wrapping you in his arms.

That night, you fell asleep just like you had countless others, the only notable difference being the lack of fabric separating Benny’s beating heart from yours.

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