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mothdruid · 2 years

Text

take my breath

pairing: slight sub!druig x female!reader

summary: everything you did was wrong to him, typing, stamping, etc. but one day at work you confront him and something unexpected happens.

wc: 2.6k

warings: 18+, smut, minors dni, pet names (love, darling), oral sex (male to female), penetrative sex (male on female), vaginal fingering

a/n: finally! my library au!

"Could you type any louder?" You turned back to look at him, the person who made your job much harder than it needed to be. When you took this job you weren't aware that you'd be dealing with a pompous asshole. Everything you did was wrong in his opinion, the way you stamped the books, the way you put the books back, the way you helped the public seemed to even bother him. And now it was the way you were currently typing. You rolled your eyes, continuing with looking up the book someone asked about. After finding the section the book was in, you wrote it down on a piece of paper then handing it over to the person. They thanked you before going to look for the book. You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

"What the hell?" You shot at him as you turned around. He was leaning back against the counter, arms crossed with an annoyingly smug smirk across his face. Your lips curved down as you stepped closer to him, ready to give him an ear full. "Well? Are you gonna say anything?" Druig stepped closer to you, making you backup a little bit. His steps didn't stop when you backed up, making you bump into the counter. His hands reached for the counter behind you, caging you in. His blue orbs scanned your face vigilantly, looking for any type of discomfort. The heat from his own body radiated between the small space separating the two you.

The firm line of your lips felt almost painful, his lips only inches away from your own. You'd be lying if said you didn't think he was attractive. Your dreams tended to remind you of it from time to time. Druig leaned in, looking at you as if you were prey. A smile tugged at his lips, his teeth flashing through where his lips parted. His head tilted slightly while his icy eyes maintained eye contact with your own. You could feel an embarrassing heat radiate to your cheeks. You shifted in the enclosed space as your nerves started to take over. Once Druig noticed you shift he leaned his head, getting his lips near your ear, "What? Do you have something to say?"

As the warm breath from his words touched the shell of your ear, a shiver shot down your spine. He pulled back, straightening his posture while he looked down on you. "That's what I thought. Now I'll be in the reference section, and please don't bother me."

A heat deep inside of you started to bubble in your chest. Your eyes drilled into the back of his as he strutted his way to the floor of the library. The nerve he had was unbearable! Fuck, even the way he walked away from you pissed you off! Your thoughts swarmed and culminated over the next few minutes while you paced behind the counter. A snippet of your dream from last night popped into your head. A image of Druig thrusting into while his hand tightened in your hair. You shook your head in surprise, not understanding how this rage pulled that thought to your head. You quickly grabbed the 'will be back soon' sign and set it on the front counter.

The smell of used books wafted into your nostrils as you made your way back to the resource section. After passing aisle after aisle you finally found Druig seated in a small reading chair at the end of one of the aisles. Your steps carried you with purpose as you got to the end of the aisle. He didn't even budge as you approached him. You stared at him for a moment waiting for him to acknowledge you, but it never came. "Hey."

"What?" An annoyed tone laced his voice. His eyes finally pulled away from the book captivating his attention. You knew it was nothing that was from the section, he just liked the section because it was quiet and nobody really used it. One of his eyebrows raised as you paused for a moment. "Do you-"

"You and me, storage room right now." The sound of his footsteps surprised you as you walked away. You could feel his presence following you through the library, something you should have been used to. It was normal for him to follow you, monitoring what you were doing around the library. For how much Druig acted like he hates you, he tended to be around you a lot. The irritation inside of you was rising and rising, settling in your upper chest right below your collar bones. The knob of the door was cool in your hand as you gripped in. Druig stood incredibly close behind you. Druig reached around you to place his hand on top of yours, squeezing lightly. You ripped your hands from the door knob, pulling it towards your chest. "What the fuck?"

You whipped around coming face to face with Druig, a devilish smirk on his lips. The sound of the door opening came from behind you. You stepped to the side for a moment, Druig turning to face you. He nod towards the storage room, gesturing with his hand as well. You wished that in that moment looks could kill because Druig would be dead if they did. "After you." You rolled your eyes as you walked into the storage room.

The scent of old wood and dust filled your nostrils as you walked into the dark room. You found the light switch, flicking it on as you turned around to face Druig. He closed the door, leaning against as he crossed his arms with his book still in hand. Your eyebrows knitted together as you watched a stupid smirk develop on his face.

"Do you think this is a joke? What problem do you have with me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about darling." Your eyes widened in disbelief at the pet name. Darling? Since when were you ever darling to him?

"You don- what? Are you fucking kidding me? First I'm typing too loud for your liking and now you think you can call me darling?" By this point your hand had started moving with your words, something that happened when you were nervous and frustrated. "And last week you fucking said I was registering new book too loudly. If you ears are that sensitive you should probably get them checked. Plus the keyboard is as loud as it keybo-" Druig had met you in the middle of the room, hand his gripping your wrists to silence them. His grasp felt like fire against your skin, searing his point into it.

"You look kind of cute when you're mad." Shock settled into your facial features as you looked at him. Before you knew it his lips were crashing down into your own. The feeling of his tongue over your own was soothing, the strong muscle ate up all the words you wanted to say. His hands let go of your wrists, one settling on the side of your neck and the other on your waist. Druig pulled back from the kiss to take your bottom lip between his teeth, biting lightly it making you gasp. One of your hands dug into his brunette locks while the other fisted the front of his sweater.

Frustration ebbed and flowed through you as the make out continued. You hadn't even noticed the two of you walking backwards towards an old unused desk. The edge of the desk touched your ass, pulling you back to reality for a moment. You broke the kiss and locked eyes with Druig. "What are we doing?"

"I'm not sure, but I kind of like it." His hand came up on your jawline, brushing his thumb against your cheekbone. You pulled him back in for more, pulling his hair while you tried to take over the kiss. A groan emanated out of him while he pressed his hips into your own. You could feel his already hardening cock press into your hip. Both of his hands settled on your hips as the rhythm of your kiss continued, your hips slowly rocking together now. His thigh was slotted in between your legs, giving you the friction you desperately desired. You moaned as you pushed down against his thigh, reveling in the pleasure his thigh gave you. Druig chuckled as he watched you basically ride his thigh. "You like that? Like rutting up against me like an animal?"

Surprised by his words you halted your movements, not wanting to give him any form of satisfaction. "It'd be better if I wasn't the only one doing something." Druig tilted his head a little bit, his hands gripped your hips. You felt him spin you around so your front was pressed against the desk, his hips against your ass now. Hot breath ghosted over your neck, shivers traveled down your spine. Your cunt clenched around nothing as his lips ghosted up your neck to your earlobe, taking it between his teeth.

"Oh don't worry, I promise to take care of you." Druigs hand snaked to your clothed pussy, applying pressure to you. Your hips rolled into his hand instinctively, trying to get more pressure. His other hand moved around to the button of your pants, pausing for your approval. He undid the button shortly after you nodded to him, the sound of the zipper was droning. He opened the front of your pants, shifting them down on your hips slightly. His hand moved inside of them, fingers slipping past your slick folds and finding your clit without hesitation. A moan tore out of you as he started with a circle motion on your clit. Druig gained a devilish grin as he kept up with his pace. The sounds you started making sounded so sinful. The tightening in your core started, signaling that your orgasm was building. You felt him start to rut against your ass while fingering your clit. His movements felt hypnotic and all encompassing.

"This all you got?" You breathed out while resting your head back on his shoulder. His free hand travelled up to the base of your neck. His fingers disappeared from your clit while his grip on the base of your neck tightened. He pushed you down, your chest settled against the top of the old desk. His hips were seated against your ass as his eyes raked over the sight in front of him. You teasingly pressed your ass back against his crotch, smiling when he let out a quiet moan. He draped his body over yours, the heat from his chest radiated through your clothes.

"You want my cock, don't you?"

"Yes.." It felt like defeat saying it out loud. You actually wanted the person who has made your life hell inside of you. Druig removed himself from you, his hands hooking into the sides of your pants and underwear. The cool air of the storage room felt amazing against your ass. Druig dropped to his knees behind you, spreading your ass with both hands. A sigh let out of you as your felt his tongue on your cunt, pushing past your folds to get to your clit.

The sensitive bud sent waves of pleasure through your as he flicked and sucked on it. His tongue flattened as he licked a wet stripe from your clit to opening, pushing his tongue inside of your hole when he reached it. Your hands clenched at the edge of the desk as your head fell forward. The tightening in your core had returned. The sounds coming from Druig as he tongue fucked you were dirty, the moans and slurps were driving you closer and closer to the edge. You lifted yourself up when he brought his skilled fingers back to your clit, ripping a loud moan out of you.

Your back arched as a hand went back, burying itself in his brunette locks. Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, making you push back into his face. Druig removed his tongue from you hole to move down to you clit, licking, flicking, and sucking on your bundle of nerves. Pleasure caused your body to shake and jolt against Druig's mouth. He finally pulled back from you to let you bask in your post orgasmic clarity. He got back to his feet to press his body against your own. His hand came around and grabbed your jaw, pulling your face to his. "Can I fuck you?" You nodded as your lips connected, tasting yourself on his tongue and lips. "Tell me yes, love."

"Yes, fuck me Druig. " Druig kissed you quickly again before letting go of your jaw. You turned back to watch him undo his pants, pushing them half way down his thighs. He spit into his hand and brought it down to pump his cock a few times. He pushed his cock between your folds, the head of his cock brushing against your clit while he ran it up and down your cunt. He guided his cock to your opening, the head nudging against your hole.

The stretch of his cock felt like heaven to your velvet walls. Druig head rested against your shoulder, his hot breaths radiating through your shift to your shoulder blade. He groaned loudly when he bottomed out, his hands came around and grabbed your own on the desk. The strokes were slow and languid to start, causing you to become a breathy mess as you felt your abdomen tighten again.

"Fuck." His voice sounded almost broken, not like his usual confident tone. "You feel like heaven."

You interlaced your fingers with his and his strokes continued. He brought his head up to kiss your neck, nipping every now and then. A whine broke through him and he felt you clench around his cock. You could tell Druig was getting close too because of the sounds he was making. His thrusts started to get deeper, the head of his cock started to brush over the sensitive spot inside of your. You clenched around him again as you moaned out, "Fuck, Druig."

One of his hands came around your front to play with your clit while he kept fucking into you. You pushed your head back against his shoulder as your abdomen tightened painfully. Your orgasm hit hard this time making you clench impossibly tight around Druig's cock. His own thrusts started to falter as he felt you tighten around him, his own orgasm taking over. You felt his cum coat your insides making you moan in response. Druig sat there, forehead pressed to your shoulder as he regained his breath.

"Sorry about the mess." Druig brought his head up and pecked your cheek. You looked at him and felt a conflict of emotion. In this moment Druig looked adorable and kind, but you couldn't let go of everything that had happened prior to this. engagement. You shook your head at his comment.

"Why?" It was the only word you seemed to muster up. You watched his face carefully, observing how his eyes softened and his smile fell.

"I wasn't sure you would like me back."

"You sound like a child." You shifted under him, his arms still caging you in at the desk.

"I know. Emotions have never really been my thing." He rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Come on, we can talk about this more later. Let's get cleaned up." Druig watched you shift under him, making him pull back and look down at your cunt. His cum seeped out of you, making him moan one last time.

"Yeah, let's."

#druig #druig x reader #druig x you #druig x female reader #druig fanfiction #druig fanfic #druig smut #the eternals #barry keoghan

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m-jelly · 2 years

Text

Chasing bubbles - first time.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: Merman Levi, smut, foreplay (fem receiving), monsterfucking, human reader, water sex, fluff, romance, creampie, future AU, reader has an implant so safe sex.

Concept: Snippet from my current Ao3 story of chapter I posted on 17/05/22. Levi and you have sex together for the first time as a couple, not your first time ever. Levi is in his merman form and you are human. Levi shows your body just how much he loves it and loves you.

18+ material. Minors do not interact.

Levi swam up to your moonpool and placed little water lights around the walls of the moonpool. He put flowers on the water and lined the edges of the pool with stones and shells. He fixed and adjusted the headpiece on his head, then double-checked the courting bracelets on his arms. He smiled in pride thinking he looked great and perfect for you.

You walked into your apartment and dropped your bags down. You stretched your joints and moaned in happiness. You pulled your smart clothes off and walked over to your kitchen in your underwear in view of Levi. You paused when you heard Levi softly say your name.

You looked over at Levi and blushed. “Levi.”

He smiled at you. “You look beautiful.”

You looked down at yourself. “I’m in my underwear.”

“But you look great. Is this not a special outfit?”

You giggled. “No.” You walked over to the moonpool. “Look at this. This is so pretty.” You crouched down and hugged your legs. “This for?”

Levi nodded. “The end of the umm…courting and it’ll be the start of mating.”

You smiled and knelt. “I’m excited.” You undid your bra and tossed it to the side. You slipped your underwear off as you blushed. “Is the water cold?”

“It’s perfect.” He reached over and grabbed your waist. He lifted you off the side and lowered you down into the water. “That okay?”

You hummed. “It’s nice.”

He moved back and stared at your chest. “You’re right, they do float.”

You giggled. “Yeah, they do.”

He ran his hands all over your body. “Your body is so soft, beautiful and wonderful.” His fin ears wiggled. “I’m so excited to be with you.”

You wrapped your arms around Levi’s neck. “Me too. I’m a tiny bit nervous about my body, but I’m ready and I’m excited.”

He smiled and kissed you. “I’ve done a lot of research and I know how to pleasure you.” He pushed his hand down and palmed your clit and slit. “I can’t push my fingers into you like this, but I can eat you.”

You blushed. “You d-don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Levi sank under the water and moved your legs over his shoulders so you were sitting on them. He massaged your thighs and eyed your slit, pussy and clit. He purred and blew bubbles against you. You clenched your legs around Levi’s head. You looked down to see the tip of his fin ears wiggling. You pulled his hair as you leaned backwards in pleasure.

Levi swam with you to the moonpool walls and pressed you against it to support you. He kept blowing bubbles against you and watched them pop. He stopped and attacked your clit with passion. He roughly took swollen nub into his mouth and ran his tongue over it. He hummed in happiness at how sweet you tasted. He pressed his mouth fully against you allowing him to suck hard.

You leaned your head back against the floor and cried out in pleasure. You tugged on Levi’s hair as your body shook above him. Levi slid his hands over to your bum and gripped hard knowing that his nails would leave marks on your soft skin. He released your clit and licked down to your pussy. He pushed his tongue in and let your honey coat his tongue. Levi moaned in delight at your sweet taste. He used his tongue to massage your g-spot.

You cried out and shuddered above him as your coil tightened up. You held Levi’s head tightly and whimpered as pleasure burned through you. You moaned as his tongue dragged up to your clit. You tugged Levi’s hair as you felt your coil snap. You shook above Levi as your pleasure rushed through every inch of you. You whimpered as Levi lapped up your cum as it escaped you.

Levi moved your legs and swam up to face you. He smiled at you as you panted. “Are you okay?”

You nodded and shivered. “Yes.”

His fin ears wiggled in delight. “I’m glad.”

“Can I see you?”

He blushed and swam over to the seat and pulled himself up on the seat. “You c-can.”

You shifted over and looked at his fin where it joined his torso. “It should be…” You ran your hands over his scales and dragged them to meet in the middle where you knew the cover was. You massaged where the cover was and watched it open a little and close. “Are you worried I won’t like it?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

You grabbed the edge and climbed up to kneel on the seats on either side of Levi and straddled him. You sat down as your fingers played with the cover. “I want to feel you inside me. I crave it.” You kissed him and hummed in happiness. “I want you, Levi. Please don’t hide who you are.”

“I love you.”

“I love you so much.” You felt the slit open a bit more. “Don’t you want to mate with me?”

He groaned. “I want to mate you.”

“Mate with me. Breed me. Love me.” You gasped when you felt something long, hard and hot against your hand run up your arm. You looked down to see Levi’s hard cock. You ran your hand up and down to feel he was wet and slick with a lubricant. “Incredible.” You marvelled at how it was similar to the colour of his scales. You knelt up and sank down on his cock a little. “Sh-shit.” Your eyes rolled back. “The fuck is on your dick?”

He grunted. “I forgot to tell you. The addictive sweetness that is my saliva also coats my penis.”

You sank down on him slowly. “Oh fuck I want it to ravage me.”

Levi ran his hands up your back. “Calm, my little bubble.”

You whimpered. “Levi, please.”

He massaged your thighs. “Good mate.” He grunted when your walls squeezed his dick. “Shit.”

Your pupils widened as you felt you were drugged. You grabbed Levi’s shoulders and started slamming your body up and down on Levi. You cried out as the head of his rock dragged past your g-spot and press your cervix. You opened your mouth and closed your eyes as you let pleasure burn through you. You tangled your fingers in Levi’s hair before yanking him against your breasts. You squeaked when Levi bit your right breast hard in your passionate moment.

You shifted your thighs and bucked as hard and as fast as you could. Levi’s smooth cool scales below slapped against your bum and added a cooling effect on your skin. You yanked Levi’s head back and licked his fin ear. You nibbled it making him moan in ecstasy. You moved your tongue on his fin causing him to shiver under you allowing you to know that you’d found his weakness. You pulled back and looked down at your lover.

Levi purred at you as his fin ears wiggled and a strong blush spread on his cheeks. “You’re so beautiful.”

You whimpered. “Levi. You feel so good.”

Levi moved his hand to where you both were connected. He ran his webbed fingers over your clit. “So beautiful. You’re such a good mate.”

You kept moving your hips as you chased your orgasm. “Yes, Levi.”

He grunted as you clenched him. “Good mate.”

You wrapped your arms around Levi and leaned over his shoulder and you bucked your hips against him. “Sh-shit.”

You moaned as Levi’s cock pressed all the right spots within you and his fingers touched you perfectly. You felt Levi’s addictive sheen on his cock was surging through every inch of you. You pulled back from his shoulder and pushed your tongue into his mouth to find the addiction come full circle. You shuddered as you felt yourself melting under his touch. You slammed down on Levi’s cock and felt bliss fire through you. You shivered and squeezed Levi’s cock over and over as you were blinded by pleasure.

Levi pulled from your lips and looked at your face as your orgasm ripped through you. He purred at you and wiggled his ears in happiness. “Beautiful.”

You panted and hummed. “I’m not, but thank you.”

“You are.” He slipped off the seat and held you close. “You’re perfect and you’re my mate.”

“You’re mine.”

He twirled with you and hummed. “Let me take care of you now.” He moved his tail backwards and forwards causing his cock to move in and out of you at a slow and loving pace. “Let me shower you in love, my little bubble.”

You locked your legs around him as best as you could. “Yes.”

Levi gripped your thighs and sighed as he moved in you. “Good little bubble.” He grunted. “You feel so good, so hot, so warm, so wet, so sweet.” He nipped your neck and licked after. “I love you.”

You shivered at the slow and loving movements. You focused on your pussy and enjoyed Levi’s hard cock slide out, then push back in nice and deep. You held Levi close as your fingers massaged the undercut of his hair. You turned your head and panted against the top of his fin ear. You shivered as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix and begged your body to let him fill it with his seed. You wanted Levi so badly to mate you, but your device was turned on so you had protection on.

Levi bit your neck hard and sucked. He moved his tongue over the bite allowing his addictive saliva to enter your body. He slid his hands across your skin to hold your bum. He gripped your bum hard and moved his tail to buck his cock into you. He covered your neck in bites and kisses. He hummed as he felt your pussy walls pull him back in as he pushed his cock in. He smiled against your skin knowing how badly your body wanted him.

He kissed your neck right where your voicebox was and smiled at feeling your moan vibrate against his lips. “Perfect.” He captured your lips and moaned. “I love you, mate. My sweet little bubble.”

You panted and whimpered. “You feel incredible. Your cock is incredible.”

He gripped your bum tightly as he moved his fin faster making his cock slam into your pussy. “You’re amazing.” He panted and moaned. “You’re wonderful, amazing and addictive. I want to mate with you always. I want to fill you. I want to always be inside you.”

You leaned your head back as pleasure burned through you. “Levi.”

“My beautiful little bubble.”

You whimpered as Levi rocked his dick deep into you. “Levi. I’m…” You whined. “Shit.”

He locked eyes with you. “Cum, my little bubble. Cum.”

You dragged your nails across Levi’s back and cried out as an orgasm burned through your body. You panted and rolled your hips to let your pleasure last as long as possible. “F-Fuck.”

Levi watched your bliss covered face and enjoyed how beautiful you looked as you came on his cock. “Stunning.”

You panted and hummed. “How are you so good?”

He smiled and kissed you. “All I’m doing is loving your body.” He nuzzled his face against yours. “Are you ready for some serious merman love?”

You blushed hard. “Yes.”

“I’m going to take you under the water. I’ll give you air.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll look after you.”

You kissed him. “Yes.”

Levi locked lips with you and spun you and him around as his mer instincts took over. He rolled with you and pulled you under the water as his body moved with yours. He pulled you deep and pressed you against the moonpool floor as he rammed his cock into you. He pushed air into your lungs allowing you to breathe. Levi slammed his hands onto the floor and gripped them so hard that his nails ripped into the metal. He growled and pushed air into your lungs again as he rutted against you.

You dragged your nails over Levi’s back as you kept your eyes closed. Your mind was racing at what was happening. You were overwhelmed by pleasure from Levi’s cock plunging into your pussy, his scales rubbing against your clit and being fed oxygen by your lover. You clung to Levi for dear life and enjoyed the dangerous pleasure he was giving you. You loved this, you loved Levi and you wanted to let him make love to you as a merman would normally do during mating.

Levi rolled around with you as he bucked into you hard and fast. He kept pushing air into your lungs to keep you going, but his worry did creep in and he began to think maybe he could turn you into a mermaid for a day to make love to you as a merperson would. He spun up as he wrapped his arms around you and kept pumping his cock into you. He popped up and broke the surface of the water allowing you to breathe air.

You gasped and panted. “Fuck!” You gasped again. “Levi.” You kissed him roughly and sighed through your nose. You hummed and whimpered as Levi bucked faster.

Levi pulled back and moaned your name. “Mate. I’m ready to mate.”

“Mate me. Please, Levi.”

He pressed you against the moonpool wall where there were no seats. He pressed his body hard against you as he moved his tail fast. “Mate. I need it.”

You leaned your head back. “F-Fuck. I’m…” You gasped as your coil tightened. “Levi.” You cried out as your orgasm rushed through you. Your pussy walls massaged Levi’s cock and begged him to fill you. “Levi.”

Levi grunted and held you close to him. He rammed into you as fast as he possibly could. He plunged deep into you as he came hard into you. He pumped ribbons of thick, sticky, hot, silvery cum inside you. He nuzzled your neck and purred at you as his fin ears wiggled. He hummed as his cum kept pouring into you. He pulled back a little and started covering your face in kisses as the last of his cum entered you.

You whimpered a little. “So much.”

He blushed hard. “I probably should have warned you more about how much merman cum.”

You hummed a laugh. “It’s okay. It feels good.” You nibbled your lip. “It stays in me for a while, right?”

He nodded shyly. “Yes. It’s sticky to combat the saltwater.”

“Wonderful.”

He pulled his cock from you and watched his cum and yours mixed together on him and pull in a small strand as he pulled away. “Fuck, that looks delicious.”

You blushed and looked down. “Oh, oh wow.”

Levi lifted you up and out of the pool. “Are you alright?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You looked down to see some of Levi’s silver slightly thick cum seep out. “I’m great.”

He leaned on the side and studied you. “Are you really okay? I was a little rough.” He saw his claw marks on your thighs. He whined. “Look at those wounds.”

You looked down and lightly touched them. “It’s okay. I have healing things.”

He frowned when you didn’t move. He called your name. “Why aren’t you moving?”

You blushed. “I can’t move my legs.”

Levi panicked. “What!?”

You laughed. “I’m okay Levi, really. It’s just umm…you screwed me well and my legs are a little out of commission right now.”

Levi climbed out of the water and allowed himself to turn first before getting up. He stumbled about a little before walking to your medkit. He grabbed a booster shot for you and a bruising aid. He knelt next to you and injected you. He rubbed cream into the marks he’d made. “Need your bum.”

You rolled over for him. “All yours.”

He rubbed the cream into the little wounds on your bum. “There, all healed.”

You rolled back and sat up. “Thank you.”

“I tried not to go too merman feral on you.”

You slid closer and wrapped your arms around Levi. “You were perfect.” You touched the headpiece then the bracelets on his arms. “Did you wear all these for me?”

He nodded shyly. “Today was the end of courting because we mated. So, we’re bonded for life now.”

You held his hand and giggled. “I’m glad.”

He snuggled against you. “I adore you so much.”

“Me too.”

He ran his hand up the inside of your thigh. He massaged your skin and hummed. “I would like to try this human form to make love to you.”

You blushed. “Do you have some stamina left?”

He nodded. “Lots.”

You smiled. “Well, how about a snack, drink and pee break for ten minutes and then we try out your human body?”

He got up and picked you up. “Yes, my love.”

You giggled and hugged Levi. “You’re sweet.”

“Because I’m deeply in love with you.”

You hummed and nibbled your lip. “I adore you so much.”

“Me too.”

189 notes · View notes

jisungparker · 2 years

Text

switching up positions for you

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

song: positions - ariana grande

themes: fluff, slight angst, smut (warnings below), fwb2l

snippet: you have always found it hard to be patient with people as stubborn as hyunjin. actually, scratch that. you’ve always found it hard to be patient with people, period. funnily enough, hyunjin seems to be the exception. 4k

warnings: switch!reader, switch!hyunjin, choking, dry humping, thigh humping, hand job, sexual exploration, mentions of pegging and cum eating, college!au, clubbing, alcohol mention

a/n: hi! it’s me, barbie! please talk + establish boundaries prior to sex. this is me being a lazy author but i don’t encourage this personally. it wasn’t meant to be this long or one part, but fpr flows sake, i wrote it this way. deffo considering a pt2 to expand. ok! lmk if i forgot warnings!

hyunjin isn’t dense. hyunjin knows he has an odd relationship with power. not necessarily unhealthy, but more so unusual- uncommon. but uncommon doesn’t mean unheard of, which doesn’t necessarily make it weird. and he knows that. he knows he isn’t strange, he’s just different. he’s still hyunjin. hyunjin isn’t dense. and neither are you.

in fact, you yourself are so far removed from the concept of density, that at times, hyunjin fears you might float away. with the level of commitment you assign to most things in your life - your studies, your clubs, your friends, your future - hyunjin can’t help but wonder what time you afford yourself. that’s where he thinks he comes in. with all the power you relinquish to your unending mass of duties, hyunjin steps in to take the reins, guide you at bit, lead the way. he orders you lunch when you forget, drives you places sometimes. one time, he faked a belly ache just to stop you leaving, in fear you would pass out from exhaustion. you know, little things.

but sometimes, when your busy schedule allowed and even the fast lane was bumper to bumper, hyunjin seizes the opportunity to show you how good it feels to relinquish all that power, all that control. hyunjin takes the place of every commitment you have and dwarfs them, however he sees fit. whether it be with a firm scolding or a firm squeeze to your throat; a heavy talking to or a heavy palm to your cheek; making you come to some sort of compromise, or simply cumming in every hole until you agree with him. he does what he can.

so no, hyunjin isn’t dense, and neither are you.

so hyunjin would love for you to explain why you’re sticking your tongue halfway down some guy’s throat in full view of all your friends, hyunjin included? and he’s sure you would love for him to explain why he’s dragging you away, ending the show you didn’t know you were giving as all your friends booed him.

and you would love to know why you’re outside, shaking in the cold but crowded smoking area while hyunjin hopes that cute guy on the dance floor forgets your name. because nothing is making sense, not the wind cutting your skin, not hyunjin’s hoodie around your shoulders, not the silence that settles between you. a silence you’re quick to break.

“hyunjin, what the fuck?”

“me, what the fuck? how about you what the fuck?”

“what do you mean what the fuck?” he fixes you with a hard stare that bleeds into his jaw, one that in another setting would do things to you. now? now it just pisses you off. “what the fuck is your problem?”

“we’re going home.”

“we? who is we?” you shout as he drags you back through the club, past the knowing eyes of your friends and to the exit. hyunjin has no idea you have other ideas though. ideas of staying, which you only make apparent once he’s already passed the bouncers, exiting the club. and you have not. “i’m not leaving, jin.”

“y/n, i’m not asking you again-”

“then don’t.” leaning over the rope, you hand him his hoodie, before disappearing back into the sweaty crowd.

hyunjin isn’t dense. but he’s sure as hell starting to feel that way.

[09:48] y/n: hey, i just saw lix

[09.49] y/n: he said u guys are having a party this weekend and to remind the girls

[09:49] y/n: because he thought u would’ve told me but then i realised we haven’t text since friday morning

[09:50] y/n: u good?

[14:23] y/n: lmaooooooooooooo

[14:23] y/n: i know u know i saw ur daddy long leg ass run when i walked over to u guys

[14:24] y/n: han’s saying ur pissed at me

[14:24] y/n: so i guess i shoulda asked, are WE good?

[19:33] y/n: u home?

[19:38] y/n: i’m omw

[19:44] jin: I’m not home.

[19:44] y/n: he lives!

[19:45] y/n: too late, open up

you don’t bother knocking, you just wait. and after a long minute, the door swings open to reveal the sweet enigma that is hwang hyunjin.

you step to enter his room, only to face plant his chest. “are you not gonna invite me in?”

“no.”

“okay.” you nod, sighing deeply. “will you at least tell me what’s wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong.”

“hmm.” you have always found it hard to be patient with people as stubborn as hyunjin. actually, scratch that. you’ve always found it hard to be patient with people, period. funnily enough, hyunjin seems to be the exception. “uh okay, give me a sec.”

hyunjin watches you take your phone out and unlock it, your thumbs tapping away before you bring it to your ear. you watch his curiosity pique, his frown slowly morphing into confusion. “who’s that-”

“hey,” you start, lifting a finger to stop him. “yeah, yeah i’m here.” you take a quick step back as he reaches for your arm. “he’s saying nothing’s wrong.”

“who is that?” you roll your eyes at his attempts at a demand, his pout doing nothing to enforce it. “y/n-”

“it’s han, he says you’ve been moping around all week? says you’ve been cry-” hyunjin could easily overpower you. he knows this. you know this. he knows you know this. but only now do you realise that maybe hyunjin would rather it this way. maybe he’d rather it come out like this than actually admit that something is wrong. you hang up without thinking, watching his eyes well up. “are you crying?”

“no,” he sniffs, sleeve rubbing his eye. “and jisung doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“he seemed pretty sure.”

“oh did he? well then why don’t you go off with jisung then, seeing as he’s so pretty?” even as the question leaves him, he knows he sounds stupid. but he can’t help but feel stupid as his tears start to fall and you stroke his arm stiffly, visibly confused.

“hey, uh, it’s okay.” you and hyunjin aren’t like this. you’re feisty, borderline aggressive. he calls you names, you act out and he punishes you for it. hyunjin fucks you until you apologise, most times until you cry. and then hyunjin comforts you. not the other way around. never the other way around. but it feels time to push past that. to see that hyunjin isn’t all hard edges and sharp corners. that at times he too needs someone to care for him. “let’s go inside.”

he lets you in this time. his room had always been surprisingly tidy. for a guy his age, you wouldn’t expect as much. but it’s always refreshing every time you enter. the levanter banner over his bedside, the red lava lamp he won freshman year, your skin care tucked away in the corner. you turn after dropping your bag to find him hovering by the door, his eyes fixed on you.

“sit down.”

it’s an odd sensation, watching hyunjin move at your command. he realises this and stops half way, glaring slightly. “you sit down.”

“i want to see you,” you explain, laughing as you kneel beside his bed.

he stuffs his tongue in his cheek, the apples of them warming as he feels his stubbornness peaking through. “okay.”

when he’s finally sat, you realise you hadn’t thought this far ahead. you hadn’t thought past getting in, and definitely not the possibility that hyunjin of all people would cry in front of you. but you think it’s time to be honest, to quit playing dumb. to show hyunjin the respect he deserves.

“that guy on friday night,” hyunjin looks away when you begin, his jaw tensing slightly until you squeeze his thighs, a silent plea for his attention. “his name is san. i know him from intermediate spanish.”

“cool, and i care because..?”

“i don’t know,” you shrug, watching his gaze harden. “i was kinda hoping you’d tell me.”

it’s his turn to shrug, huffing, “i don’t care who you’re fucking, y/n. we’re not together.”

“then why are you mad?”

“i’m not!” he stands suddenly, pacing. with no trace of tears left, you just find a simmering rage. “i’m just- you said i’m the only guy you’re fucking.”

“no, i didn’t.”

“uh, yes. you did.”

“no,” you laugh, stepping in front of him to stop his pacing. “i said you’re the only guy i let fuck me.”

“exact-”

“you’re not listening, jin. i let you fuck me. san let’s me fuck him.” when you get nothing from him, you groan in exasperation, “what’s not clicking?”

“are you calling me stupid?”

“no, jin,” you sigh, “i just feel like you’re being purposefully dense-”

he’s got you by the throat in a second, your thighs pressed to his desk, his pressed to your core. “what did you just call me?”

the words wither into nothing when his grip tightens, eyes darkening as your mouth hangs open.

“five seconds with someone else, and you forget how to behave, huh?” your eyes gleam when they find his, a mocking pout on his plump lips. “i almost feel sorry for him.” he laughs, licking his lips when he feels you gulp against his palm, his teeth catching your bottom lip. “are you this bratty with him?”

“it’s not like that,” you rasp, eyes still shining. when he sees defiance in your glare, his heart aches at your obvious attachment to the other man.

“then what is it?” why him? why not me? “is it love?”

“no.” you deny, clinging to him as he loosens his grip. “it’s nothing, hyunjin.”

“you don’t have to lie to me-”

“i’m not.” he softens slightly, though he still searches for deceit. his eyes scan your face, taking in the tenderness of your features, the gleam in your eyes, the words on your tongue.

“then why? why-” he pauses, moving his hand to your neck, cradling your head. “why am i not enough?”

“you are.”

“don’t lie to me.” he watches you gulp, your confidence waning as his eyes pierce through you. searching. “what does he have that i don’t? wh-what does he give you that i can’t?”

you’re not sure how to answer that. not for lack of assuredness but rather a lack of knowledge. you know what you want, who you want. he’s five foot ten of flesh and bone. he looks good without trying. he’s the lead in levanter’s dance squad, is surprisingly uncoordinated and embarrassingly goofy but worth his weight in gold. he sings to you when he’s drunk, let you die his hair pink when you failed your midterm and, he fucks you within an inch of your life.

you want hwang hyunjin. exactly as he is. with everything he comes with. but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other things you want. like the freedom to watch cult horror classics without him turning them off half way through or to berate him for ordering you around. you’d love the chance to tease him past flirty banter, make his skin tingle. to make him cum all over himself, then make him taste it. oh, how you want to take him from the back, hear him cry your name over and over, watch him come undone, reduce him to nothing.

you want to fuck hyunjin.

so yes, you’re not sure how to answer him. but hyunjin isn’t dense. and neither are you. and you promised yourself to show him the respect he deserves. so you say it as plainly as one can.

“submission.”

though hyunjin doesn’t speak, you’re certain he heard you. his hand loosens almost entirely on your neck, his palm resting at its junction with your shoulder. his thumb meets your jaw, tilting your face towards him, his eyes holding yours. in them he finds defiance, a sight he’s used to seeing. one he only questions now, as you hold his gaze, his own beginning to falter. because within that defiance he sees it, what he’s never bothered to question, never bothered to believe.

you have an odd relationship with power. not unhealthy, but uncommon. it isn’t unheard of, it’s just new. new to him, new to you together as one. and you know that. and you think he knows too. because he isn’t shocked, or even turned off. he’s intrigued. he’s.. open. because it’s just different. and you’re still y/n. you’re still his.

“what-” he pauses nervously, no longer able to hold your gaze. “what do you want me to do?”

“kiss me.” he hesitates only slightly, unsure why he’s initiating it. you grin when his brows knit, adding, “we’re gonna go at your pace, okay?”

“okay.” he nods, finally understanding.

“kiss me.” you repeat, firmly.

he leans in instantly, his soft pout moulding around yours as he kisses you gently. it’s not too unlike kisses you’ve shared before, and yet, it feels entirely new. maybe it’s the pace, it’s slow, sensual. it gives him time to feel you, gives you time to explore. when your palm meets his chest, rubbing a path up to his neck, he tenses as you pull him down, allowing your tongue to delve further, really taste him. hyunjin thinks minutes pass like this, his body slowly melting into yours, his frame hunched as you gradually suck the dominance from him.

your hand finds his hip, pushing him toward the edge of his bed before you breathe into his mouth, “sit down.”

he moves without thinking, his knees folding as he sits on his bed, knees spread to welcome you. you oblige, caging him between your thighs, perched on his own.

“lie down.” and he does. his hair pooling beneath him, framing his face perfectly. he watches you play with it, trying to even out his breathing, unsure when it got away from him when you realise, “i never tell you how pretty you are.”

a flush spreads through his neck and cheeks, his head falling to the side, avoiding your intense gaze. “no, you don’t-”

the words get lost in his throat as you press your lips at its base, reeling as he moans. “i’ll make sure to now, okay?”

he just nods, clinging to the waistband of your jeans for dear life. your lips begin their journey up, sucking his skin into your mouth, marvelling at the sounds you can draw from him when he isn’t torturing you. but then you feel it, his grip tightening before he drags you along him, your core perfectly aligned with his clothed length, his eyes squeezing shut.

“jin,” his eyes open at your call. “no.”

“what?” he moves to do it again, his hips grinding up into you. when you kneel, lifting your core from him, he frowns, whining, “but i want to.”

“i know,” you grin at the ease with which he complains, how perfect he is at this. “but i said no.”

“and what if i don’t listen?” he tries, gripping you a touch harder, though making no attempt to defy you. “what if i’m-” it’s unlike him to be nervous around you. yet he can’t help enjoy it, the way you regard him, the way you treat him. he gulps as your brow rises, asking, “what if i’m bad?”

“if you’re bad, you don’t get what you want.” you shrug, stroking his forearms. “and i know how much you like getting what you want.” you lower yourself again when his hands go limp, grinding down on his bulge, watching his eyes roll shut, his teeth clamped around his lip. “so be a good boy for me, okay?”

“like san?”

he watches it wind you, the sound of his the other man’s name jarring you as hyunjin chooses to misbehave. except, from the slight hurt in your eyes, he thinks this may be a step too far. especially when you laugh in disbelief, nodding gloomily before climbing off of him completely.

“wait, y/n-”

“just- forget it, okay? i don’t think we should do anything until we move past the san thing.”

“what? what san thing?”

“the thing you’re making it! you obviously think it’s important enough to bring up when i’m trying to fuck you! so let’s stop.”

“no, i don’t want to stop,” you hear the slight panic in his voice, how he grabs you when you move for your bag. “i don’t want you to go.”

“then what do you want, hyunjin? because i’m not going to sit here while you make fun of me, i won’t-”

“make fun- i’m not making fun of you!”

“then why did you bring him up?”

“because-” it’s right there. and hyunjin wishes now more than ever that his intrusive friends would come to his rescue, phrase his thoughts and feelings in well thought out taunts. that maybe you’d realise he’d rather choke on his own tongue than just admit- “i’m jealous! okay?”

“jealous?” he groans at your tone, fearful you’ll make him repeat himself. “why would you be jealous? jealous of what?”

“of him! of you with him! of- the two of you, being like this!” he gestures between you two, his jaw clenching at the thought. “i hate that he got to see you like this, like i do. that he got to have you. that you-” he doesn’t want to say it, he doesn’t want to blame you. because he gets it, he gets it must be hard, telling someone your desires. but that doesn’t make him hate you any less for it. “i hate that you fucked him before you fucked me.”

you watch him for a moment. the rise and fall of his chest, his soft pants. the emotion painting his beautiful face: there you find pain and dread. you find confusion and jealousy. he’s jealous. hyunjin is jealous. but he’s open.

“so you- you do want this?”

he nods and then gulps, saying, “yeah. yeah, i want this. i want you.” you take a step toward him, warmed as he reaches for you. “i want you, y/n.”

“i want you too.” you confess, returning his relieved smile. “i only want you, hyunjin.”

“good,” he mumbles as you climb back onto him, lowering him down with a palm to his chest. “just me.”

“just you,” you whisper against his skin, tongue sliding up his neck as he hums, rolling his skin between your teeth. “it’s always been you, jin.”

“just me,” he’s breathless, limp beneath you. he can feel himself falling into a trance, your hands pressed to his chest for leverage as you grind your core over his bulge. his groan is garbled, wedging itself in his throat as you roll your hips into him. “y/n- oh my- fuck.”

“tsk,” you tut as he clamps down on his lip, his arm slung over his face to hide himself. you see a flush paint his neck, peeking out beneath his t shirt. he unfolds when your fingers find his lips, coaxing them from their restraint. “lemme hear you.”

“no,” he groans, humiliated. “i’m gonna be loud.”

“yeah?” you giggle, head tilting when he finally meets your eye. “lemme hear, jinnie.” he whines at his name, the endearment in your eyes. though he shakes his head side to side, he relents. letting a pathetic moan fill the air as you palm him through his sweats. “there he is.”

“ngh- right there.”

“what, here?” you grind the heel of your palm against his bulge, grinning as he keens, his body more responsive than you’d ever dreamed. “you like that, jinnie?”

“mm, yeah- feels good.”

“you know what else feels good?” you ask, watching his brows knit, his dark eyes cast on you. “choking,” he nods understanding, but definitely misinterprets it. “i mean, me choking you.” he has enough mind to be stunned, his eyes rounding, though you feel his hips grind up against your palm at its mention. “would you like to try that?”

“i-” it is unfair of you to play with him at a time like this, but the thought of stopping feels treacherous. but he nods, rubbing circles on your free hand before you bring it to the base of his throat. “i wanna try.”

“okay,” you whisper, nodding slowly. holding his gaze, you crawl over him, resting your thigh over his crotch. he looks down briefly, his hands clinging to the sheets. “go ahead,” you breathe into his mouth, lips slotting in as you lower your thigh, pressing down on his bulge. as he begins grinding up against you, he halts when you squeeze your thumb and four fingers around his neck, the slight pressure causing an unholy cocktail of pleasure. his jaw falls open, letting your tongue wander the expanse of his mouth as he groans around the muscle. “how’s that, jinnie?”

“it’s-” otherworldly, he wants to say, but words aren’t coming easy to him. thoughts aren’t coming easy to him. so he just nods the best he can, grinding down harder, kissing you harder, trembling beneath you. “i’m- i’m close-”

“mm?” you lean up to watch him, his body moving rhythmically as his pleasure consumes him. it’s truly a sight to behold. “you wanna cum, jinnie?”

“y-yes.” his jaw tightens every second you tease him, his dark, hooded eyes watching your lips curve, his spit painting them. he feels his orgasm preparing to rip through him, fearful it might snap him in two. “i wanna cum-”

“good boys say plea-”

“please,” he pleads, hand clasped around your wrist, wordlessly begging you to squeeze harder. “please-please y/n, please.”

“okay,” you relent with a smile, leaning down to kiss his bruised lips. “cum, baby.”

had you not been on top of him, you fear he’d convulse. his entire frame shaking as his orgasm tears through him, cum spilling into his sweats, seeping through to your jeans. you watch him moan, incoherent whines of your name passing through his bitten lips, saliva gargling as he tries and fails to even out his breathing. sweat lines his forehead, his hair sticking to his temples as he slowly comes down from euphoria.

when his eyes finally open, he finds you smiling.

“hey,” you try, running your fingers through his hair, leaning down to peck his lips. “you okay?”

“i’m great,” he laughs, only slightly embarrassed. “you?”

“never been better,” you confess, kissing him again, humming around his tongue. “let’s clean you up, yeah?”

“wait.” you pause, watching him carefully, relaxing when he leans up to gather your hair out your face. his cheeks haven’t evened out entirely, but you think you see his flush intensify. you’re only certain you did when he looks away then asks, “what- what else feels good?”

hyunjin knows he has an odd relationship with power. and he knows he isn’t strange, he’s just different. he’s still hyunjin. except, now he’s yours.

that’s why he matches your grin when you say, “loads.”

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz smut #jisungparker #i love this :)

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junghelioseok · 2 years

Text

miss taken. | preview

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ fluff | smut | e2l!au | single parent!au ◇ 1.1k [preview]

⇢ hello i know i’ve been mia but i am slowly getting back into the swing of writing and i’ve been working on this fic that i absolutely adore so please look forward to it!!! also, is this snippet unedited? yes! does it need reworking? also yes! i’m only human, folks!!!

Mornings are always a little chaotic in your house. Trixie is darting around looking for her favorite scrunchie, a half-eaten piece of toast clutched in one hand and her backpack swinging from the other. In the kitchen, you’re going through a mental checklist of all the places your daughter could have possibly left the accessory while sipping on your morning coffee, and the mug nearly slips from your hand when your pet cat, Taco, slinks past your legs on her way to her food bowl.

“Fuck!” you hiss as hot liquid dribbles down your knuckles. The calico cat gives you an unimpressed look, and you glance both ways to make sure Trixie is out of earshot before wagging a reprimanding finger. “Manners, Taco. You’re better than this.”

Taco merely flicks her tail and turns back to her own breakfast, rebelliously batting her water bowl with one of her distinctive white paws before settling down to eat. Sighing, you finish the remainder of your coffee and rinse out the mug, listening as Trixie darts in and begins rummaging through the silverware drawer. “Bug, I don’t think your scrunchie’s in there,” you remark, earning yourself a shrug in response.

“Can’t be too careful,” she says in a startlingly accurate impression of you, and you can’t decide whether to laugh out loud or roll your eyes. Coming up empty, your daughter runs off again, and you return your attention to your bag, rifling through the folders and assignments within. “Aha!” you hear in the distance, and smile. Trixie comes bounding down the hallway a few seconds later with a sparkly holographic scrunchie in hand, and you obligingly help her wind it around her ponytail as she wriggles in place with excitement.

“Ready to go?” you ask once finished, and she nods eagerly. “Have all your homework?” Another nod. “What about those books you have to return to Mr. Kim at the library?”

Trixie heaves a dramatic sigh and fixes you with a look. “Yes, Mom. Can we go now?”

You chuckle and extend your hand for her to take, heaving your bag onto your opposite shoulder. “All right, all right. Let’s go.”

Locking the front door, you step out into the wintry air. The windshield of your car is coated in a light layer of frost, and you sigh inwardly as you head toward the trunk where you store the ice scraper. Trixie releases your hand when you pop open the lid, and you turn to watch as she skips her way down the rest of the driveway. “Sure you don’t want a ride to school?” you call.

She stops, her nose wrinkling. “It’s lame to go to school with your teacher, mom.”

You feign offense, slapping a hand to your heart. “Oh? I’m lame now, am I?”

“Don’t take it personal,” Trixie replies, shrugging. “All adults are kinda lame.”

With that, she waves and darts down the sidewalk, making her way to the bus stop at the end of the block. You watch her go, waiting until she safely joins the other half-dozen kids clustered on the corner beside the stop sign, before turning back to your car and climbing into the driver’s seat.

There’s something calming about your morning commute—something about the hum of the engine and the whir of wheels against asphalt that soothes your soul. The route downtown is a familiar one, and you navigate it with ease. A glance at the clock on the dashboard tells you that you have just enough time to grab some breakfast, and at the next intersection, you opt to turn left instead of right. Three minutes later, you’re pulling up to your favorite coffee shop in the city, snagging one of the few remaining parking spaces on the street and braving the chill one more time as you head for the brightly painted front door beneath the cheery sign that reads, Bean There, Done That!.

The smell of warm cinnamon and vanilla washes over you as soon as you step inside the coffee shop. There’s a relatively short line, and you pull out your phone as you join it, scrolling through news articles and notifications until you reach the counter. “Good morning, Bonnie,” you greet the middle-aged woman working the cash register, before waving at the man who’s already brewing a fresh espresso in the corner. “Morning, Jin.”

Bonnie smiles at you, nodding at drink Jin hands over as he joins her at the counter. “Morning, hun. You’re too late again, I’m afraid.”

You glance over at the glass display case where all the baked goods are housed, disappointment sinking into your stomach when you see the empty row in the bagel section. “No cinnamon streusel? Again?”

“Some guy beat you to the last one,” Jin answers as Bonnie rings up your coffee and slides it across the counter into your waiting hands. “Same one as last week, actually.”

Your eyes narrow. “You mean the same jerk has taken my bagel three times now? How is it that I haven’t run into him yet?”

“I dunno—dude’s an early riser I guess. You missed him by about five minutes this time, but the other times he’s in here even earlier than that.” Jin shrugs and jabs a thumb toward the back where you can just barely see the kitchen through a small window. “We’ve got more bagels going right now though, if you can wait ten minutes.”

The time on your phone’s screen tells you that you do not. “Sorry,” you tell him. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for school.” Turning, you nod at Bonnie and drop a few bills into the tip jar. “See you both tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Jin pats down his apron pockets and fishes out a crumpled napkin from within. “I almost forgot. The guy—he left a note.”

“He left… what?” You frown. “Why?”

Awkwardly, Jin clears his throat. “I, uh, may have let it slip that he kept beating you to the last cinnamon streusel bagel on Friday, and he asked if he could leave a note.” Uncrumpling the napkin, he extends it toward you. “Here.”

You can’t help it—curiosity roots in your belly and winds up to your fingers as you carefully accept the note and smooth it out on the countertop.

Better luck next time ;)

“That prick.”

Jin winces. “Yeah, I know. I mean, he does always leave a twenty in the tip jar… but totally. I’m with you. Guy’s a wang.”

You’re barely listening. Scowling, you fumble for the pen in your purse, taking the napkin that Bonnie wordlessly hands you and scribbling out your own note so fiercely you nearly rip through the papery material.

Game on, mister.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #e2l #single parent!au #enemies to lovers #jungkook e2l #dilf!jungkook #preview #lia writes

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cyber-phobia · 2 years

Note

Anon who asked permission to write a Secret Crime AU here

Snippet from the fic in progress

Suneater narrowly dodged the volley of tranquilizer darts that the masked villain aimed towards him. He knew he was in trouble. The villain was obviously too high level for him to defeat alone. Maybe with Lemillion or Nejire-Chan but alone, definitely no. The villain was extremely intelligent, got him alone during night patrol, had herded him exactly where he needed the hero student to be until he was forced to face the villain head on at a disadvantage. But he didn't know why. Tamaki was part of the Big Three yes, but he was still just a student, he didn't have the status and currency that would make him target for such a high level villain. Unless the villain was taking preemptive measures, eliminating a future hero before they could evolve into a threat later. Tamaki had no time to think beyond that though. The barrage of long range attacks didn't stop and the villain seemed to have an unsettling understanding of Manifest to counter every trick Tamaki pulled. He was being worn down, Suneater realized, and there seemed to be no way out. The villain was perched on the rafters of the warehouse, too high for Tamaki to reach without tentacles and the tentacles were the first thing the villain made sure to disable, the initial salvo of darts that flew past his defence somehow disabling them. He couldn't afford to get hit with another of those darts thus he couldn't make any moves forward, constantly forced to defend.

And then, it happened. Tamaki lost his footing and as he fell, leaving him wide open, he realised that this was how he was going to die and that he didn't get to go to that new hotpot restaurant with Fatgum or that beachtrip Mirio and Nejire had planned and he was going to be skewered with darts coated with who knows what and they're going to find his body looking like a macabre pincushion and he didn't want to die looking like a pincushion in fact he didn't want to die at all-

The attacks stopped.

Tamaki looked up at the villain perching on the rafters like an owl, only to see the masked man looking intensely at something on the floor. Following the gaze, Tamaki found the Fatgum bracelet the hero had given him that very morning, which must have fallen out of one of his pockets when he fell, lying on the ground. Before Tamaki could ponder why a bracelet would prompt a villain to stop their attack especially when they were about to win, the villain spoke for the first time, shocking him with the rather young voice.

"Is that", began the man as he put that demented gun away, "the limited edition Fatgum bracelet that has not yet been released to the public?"

Tamaki, who had no idea what was happening and pretty sure he was hallucinating didn't answer for a while. Then the man wrenched his eyes from the bracelet and looked pointedly at him and Tamaki's brain rebooted enough for him squeak out a "yes".

The villain seemed to think about something for several minutes before speaking again.

"Can I have it?", the madman asked the hero student who he had been attacking quite viciously not even five minutes prior.

Tamaki just could not compute.

"Yes?", he said nonetheless, afraid of provoking this evidently insane villain.

Then to his amazement, the villain beamed at him, an expression that was altogether terrifying and jumped down from their perch, almost giving Tamaki a heart attack, only for something in his boots to slow down his descent, and landed perfectly on the ground. He then started walking towards Tamaki, while taking off his mask.

Whatever Tamaki had been imagining under that mask, the face of a young, literally green, and quite frankly adorable teenager, wasn't it. He didn't even have time to process that fact that the scary villain who had kept him on the backfoot for the last hour was someone younger than him before the kid in question had grabbed both his hands and sparkled at him. If he hadn't had practice with Mirio's sunshine smiles, Tamaki would've surely gone blind.

"Hi", said the terrible terror, "I'm Midoriya Izuku! I'm actually not a villain by the way. I'm an aspiring hero student who wants to get into UA. This was all part of the Crime exam portion! Sorry for troubling you! But thank you for the Fatgum merchandise. It would've been impossible for me to get it otherwise with how busy I'm with the entrance exam and all. It's really nice of you to give me precious merch like that Suneater!"

The green teenager sparkled at him again.

'It had nothing to do with me being nice', the hero student thought hysterically.

Tamaki, honestly didn't know how to deal with all this. He had been ruthlessly hunted down... for the entrance exam? He needed to sit down.

Still shaken, Tamaki did just that, sliding down the wall to sit on the ground, while the green battle broccoli excitedly examined his new merch. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. The green one gave no indication of stopping his examination of the bracelet. Finally after twenty awkward minutes, hero student looked at his attacker and tentatively asked the question that had been plaguing him for a while now.

"Why me? Why did you choose me to be your entrace test crime?"

The other teenager looked at him. He seemed to be contemplating something.

"Well", he began, putting the Fatgum bracelet into a pouch in his utility belt, "I was going for the entire two birds with one stone kind of deal you know? I'm an anxious sort of person in general and I wanted to make sure I absolutely got into UA, so I decided to do more than one crime in case just one didn't work out. Attacking a Hero on patrol, abducting them, and coercing them to do something would've been three crimes at once yeah? But you're so nice and gave me hero merchandise and that too limited edition! So I'm cancelling this one! No worries!"

The batshit crazy teen beamed at him as if what he just said wasn't terrifying. Most people just shoplift or used their quirk illegally, not hunt someone down like they were prey.

"Still doesn't explain why you chose me though", Tamaki said calmly, possibly more calmly than he had said anything else in his life. Must be the shock...

"Oh, I just wanted your help in committing treason."

Tamaki's breath hitched.

Midoriya continued on nonchalantly, as if what he just said was common knowledge and not a state secret.

"Amajiki Tamaki, half Japanese, half Indian Tamil, hero name Suneater, third year UA student, part of the prestigious Yuuei Big Three, currently interning under the BMI Hero: Fatgum. Quirk is called Manifest. Code name assigned by the Government of Japan, Kraken. For your UA entrance exam crime, you and your partner committed high treason in both Japan and India, and assisted high treason in thirteen countries, including Russia, the United States, France, Britain and Germany. Your records have been sealed and destroyed bar two, with the only surviving digital copy in an isolated server in a HPSC secret location and the only remaining hard-copy in a secure location known to a grand total of seven people in the world including Principal Nedzu of UA. Currently the only people who know of your activities during that period are those with highest of clearances and among them only few are aware of the complete details. They have been sworn to silence. The mostly likely reason you have a hood in your uniform is not only because of your social anxiety, which mood, but also because you do not want certain people to recognize you. You and your partner were asked to sign a contract with multiple governments and agencies to complete certain assignments for them, although Principal Nedzu somehow managed to wrangle them in your favour, where you get paid and the missions have to be pre-approved by either Nedzu or the Erasure Hero: Eraserhead, who stood as witness to the signing of the contract on behalf of the Japanese government, also something orchestrated by Principal Nedzu".

Tamaki was pretty sure he was dying. No-one should know about Tamaki's dark past. You needed X-level clearance to know about that phase of his life! How does this-

"I have my ways Amajiki-san."

Holy shit! Can this kid read minds?!

"No, I can't read minds Amajiki-san!", the hellspawn chirped happily.

Tamaki.exe. has stopped working. If he was buffering before, he's straight up Error 404 now.

This child was born of the Great Abyss, Tamaki decided. Some Eldritch Monster's beloved progeny surely...

Because...because no-one else would be cruel enough to....expose his embarrassing treasonous phase would they? Its like someone knowing your chunnibyo years! So embarrassing! He was weirdly into treason that time okay? He'd just been trying to shoplift a piece of candy from a convenience store but there were actual thieves robbing the store at the time and then the police came and he ran away with the real thieves like an idiot and then somehow met another guy who was coincidentally in the same situation and they both ran away from the actual thieves who had realized that they were two people extra and both he and Seiji weren't really sure their crime counted so just to be safe they committed treason. And it was like a gateway drug and they just went on committing and assisting treasonous acts the entire time and it's soooooooooooooooo embarrassing. He told Mirio and Nejire that he loitered to avoid the humiliation of being perceived. He and Seiji had promised to never speak of their edgy era ever again!

Tamaki was jolted out of his spiralling thoughts on the mortification of being known by the sound of his apparently future kohai.

"Um...Tamaki-san? Would you still be willing to teach me how to commit treason?"

Then this monster of a child....fidgeted.

"Please?"

Adorable.

'A small animal', thought Amajiki Tamaki, 'the Rabbit of Caerbannog when it's still deciding whether it should maul you or not".

Then Tamaki evidently lost his shit because the next thing out of his mouth was not the hysterical laughter that's been stuck in his throat for a while now but,

"Let's start with Russia."

The green haired teenager smiled at him.

Amajiki Tamaki realized he just sold his soul to a particularly green devil.

Miles away, Aizawa Shouta shivered as shivers ran down his spine.

#YOOOO #secret crime au #fan fic #not mine

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rayshippouuchiha · 2 years

Note

Okay I've done it. I've started writing my very first fanfic. It's Naruto (because of you) and I figured I'd share a snippet of it. It's an Orochimaru adopts Naruto fic and it probably sucks but meh. There's a bunch of inspirations including your Shadow & Strength: Snake Style AU. Let me know what you think and if you'd like me to share more? No trigger/content warnings apply.

[It starts like this.

Orochimaru is a pariah in this place. His strength and genius are admired and wanted and needed and used in turn, but he himself? Very few people want him.

He has three children, for all he'll ever inform them of it. And he loves them. And for them he'll endure. The loud whispers, the frankly pathetic threats. Being followed by ANBU and god, how pathetic that they can't even hide from him when they try.

He is currently being stalked by one of the more persistent louts when he sees the Uzumaki brat, the jinchuuriki, bodily hauled out of a store.

“DON'T EVER COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE MONSTER!” Yells a man three times as wide as this disconcertingly tiny child. “Fucking demon.” he spit-whispers as he walks back into his store.

The child seems to have heard it. His eyes water but his jaw clenches stubbornly. Apparently, even baby Uzumaki knows not to cry in front of those who despise him. How sad that he seems used to the treatment even though he clearly doesn't understand why.

He pauses. For just a moment, so many possibilities cross his mind. How Uzumaki could be molded into a weapon through the hate this village forces down his throat. He won't do it, but there's no harm in thoughts.

He plans to go on with his day, but looks once more at the child and.

And. Blue meets gold, and he thinks about how this is a child in front of him. Of how this small human has endured more than even he has had to. At least he had his family in the beginning. At least, however small, he was given a choice on what he would become for this place of hidden leaves. At least he is allowed to know his truths.

He finds himself approaching the boy and slowly crouching so as to look him in the eye. Uzumaki flinches back and the sloth of an ANBU begins to react. Orochimaru wants to scoff. They did nothing when the child was being thrown like an object. They could do nothing now if he decided to kill the child in front of them. Pathetic.

Uzumaki seems to be debating the merits of making a run for it when he says, gentle smile curling the very edge of his lips, “They call me 'monster' too.” And then he holds out a hand for the boy. He waits patiently, but soon has an armful of touch-starved, entirely too trusting toddler in his arms. Something in his mind screams.

He has three children. He hasn't ever had one so small. One who could love him instantly like this, from the tiniest of kindness.

That probably has more to do with little Uzumaki's trauma, and honestly what was Sarutobi-sensei thinking, but Orochimaru doesn't care. He coils around the child not unlike a snake and looks directly at the ANBU with a blank face. Then, he lifts the entirely too light child up and makes for his destination.

Kabuto is in charge of dinner tonight and the little one in his arms could use a meal.]

Yasssssssssssss

we love to see it and it's off to an excellent start so don't doubt yourself!

#RayRambles #Naruto

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powerosewaterpuff · 2 years

Text

there aren’t enough jason is the oldest brother au’s and now i’m going to make them. this is a alternation of my au where jason is the oldest but in this specific au dick was robin first instead of jason, and he meets 14 year old jason todd in crime alley and they become brothers. jason literally looks at this little 9 about to be 10 year old and is like why the actual fuck are you not home rn? you need to go home and sleep it’s past ur bedtime. have u been doing it homework? literally jason is like if the fucking batman doesn’t take care of this kid then i will, and just adopts this kid as his little brother. (dw this is a good parent bruce au bc canon bruce is a piece of shit and i hate him) so this is a snippet of that bc i’m so fucking bored. also batcest shippers are disgusting and i need u to not interact or follow me bc ew. fucking ew. THEY ARE SIBLINGS. SIBLINGS. anyways here’s a little snippet!

Jason was counting the amount of change he had socked away from countless pickpockets when he heard little footsteps tiptoe over the lid of the overfilled dumpster next to him. He glanced up, and couldn’t help but give a crooked smile as the tiny mesh of obtusely bright colours gave him an enthusiastic wave.

“Jay!” Robin exclaimed, hopping off of the lid and into Jason’s arms, no matter the dirt and grime that coated Jason like a second layer of skin. He never knew how Robin could stand hugging him, it was like hugging a mangy dog made up of knobbly bones and excitable fleas. Yet, without fail, Robin would curl into his arms and Jason felt like he had the only family he could ever dream of wrapped around his arms.

Jason gave Robin’s hair a little ruffle as he slipped his cigarette out of his mouth, pressing it against the jagged bricks behind him to put it out. He never really liked smoking in front of Robin, the kid was far too polite to vocalize his dislike but he could tell from the way his nose scrunched that it was an issue.

“Guess what happened today?” Robin hummed, biting down on his lower lip in excitement with his barely contained energy seeking through. Jason propped a hand onto his knee and raised a brow questioningly, with that Robin went off on his energetic little spiel.

“I got an A+ on the test! The one you helped me study for last week! I spent all night looking at those little cue cards, the ones from Sylvester’s Stationary? I had all your notes written on them and I just kept droning, on, and on, and on to get it all to stick in my head! Mr. Jansen thinks I cheated! Can you believe that? He thinks there’s no way I could get an A+, that he even reported me to the office! I had to do a redo test right in front of them and I still got an A+! Ha! Take that Mr. Jansen!”

Jason has concluded a long time ago that story time with Robin was the best part of his days. He could be battered and bruised but still smile when the little twerp went on about his day at school. It made him ache a bit, just a smidge, because he wanted to be there with him. He wanted to be at school with his little brother, cackling at teachers and pulling all-nighters for tests. It was a silly dream, an unachievable image that kept him warm when the mounds of snow threatened to freeze his veins. He would just imagine this silly little dream where he had bedsheets, food, warmth and a little brother in tow that lightened up all his minutes.

Robin kept chatting, getting more animated by the minute as Jason interjected a few snide comments here and there to tease him. It was hilarious to watch Robin wag his little finger and tell Jason to knock it off. Robin was just so tiny. Jason couldn’t fathom how Batman could have the conscience to send this child to face the dirty underbelly of Gotham every night. Jason knew if he saw the Bat, he’d punch him. He would lose, obviously, and break a few fingers but he wanted to do it nonetheless. He wanted to shake that stupid fucking Bat and tell him he needed to keep that child safe. That little spritz of fucking sunshine needed to be focusing on school, not roundhouse kicking mafia grunts in Crime Alley so that they would stop hurting some street kid who was going to run off with their hubcaps.

“Jay, where are you going to sleep tonight?” Robin murmured softly as he began to unfurl himself from the ground after a while.

“Where I always do,” Jason muttered, because he knew this game that Robin played. He would try so desperately to get Jason to get off the street, because he swore that he knew someone who would take him in. Jason would scoff at Robins innocence. Once again, who let this kid wander around unsupervised?

Robin would ask this question, in hopes that Jason would concede and follow him, but he never did. It was an idiotic matter of dull pride and an untrustworthy nature that has been sown within the fabrics of his skin. No one was safe. Fucking no one, especially not adults that presumably were alright with a child running around playing superhero. Jason knew better than that, even if Robin didn’t. It was fine, he didn’t want Robin to end up like him anyways. A cynical husk of a person, a ragged little gnat desperate to survive on the scarps he could scour. It was fucking embarrassing, frankly. It was embarrassing that the kid he now had to admit, he viewed as a little brother, was offering to take care of him.

“Is everything alright with you? Everything okay at home?” Jason questioned lowly. He has to ask, it would gnaw at him all night if he didn’t. It was a constant. Robin would ask where he was staying and Jason would ask if where Robin was staying was safe. It was a ritual of theirs. A constant.

Robin gave a little nod and smiled that bright grin, “I’m fine, Jay!”

He ran into Jason for one more hug, and Jason curled his arms around him tightly, pressing his cheek onto Robin’s fluffed hair.

“ Please stay safe, Jason. Promise me,” Robin huffed, peering up at him with those oddly expressive white lenses. Jason didn’t say anything, he would never make promises he couldn’t give to him but rather gave a rueful smile. He’s trying, at the very least. He could never promise, though. It would just be a lie.

They stood like that for a minute, two brothers enclosed in a hug. Then, a little beeper went off and the little bird was swinging from building to building, a hole of an unattended promise weighing on his mind

this is kinda awful but i needed to vomit this idea out, i might cultivate it into a story on ao3 who knows but yeah that’s all for me i’ve gotten invested back into the batfam so get ready for some more stuff! i’ve got so much shit in my drafts oh my god

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starlitangels · 2 years

Note

Hey Star! I was re-reading your Pack AU (I love Rose and Gabriel, so cute!), I was wondering what would their parents think if the kids or teenagers, ever time-travelled to the past. David and Angel who only have been together for 2 years suddenly see Natalie and Gabriel appear in their living room. Angel would probably squeal in delight and would want to know all about their future kids!

Oh man! I never would have thought of this but now I have.

Davey would probably be sooo suspicious that these two teenagers are not really his kids but Angel's like, "Davey, look! He's got your eyes! And she's got mine! But she's got your nose." Natalie and Gabriel would be a bit dumbfounded like, "Wow... our parents look so young. Like, where's Dad's grey hair?"

Gabriel and Natalie try to think of ways to prove that they're Davey and Angel's kids and it goes something like...

Gabriel: Anniversary? Natalie: No rings—not married yet Gabriel: Garage code? Natalie: That is their anniversary, numbskull Angel: *leans over to whisper to Davey* Oh, they're definitely siblings

I will now spend the rest of the evening brainstorming a noncanon one-shot snippet for this lol XD

Here it is XD It's 1.3k words XD

—

Natalie stumbled a bit as she landed. Gabriel caught and steadied her. They looked around. "Where... are we?" Natalie asked.

Gabriel scrunched his eyebrows. "I recognize it. Not sure where from."

Natalie stepped lightly through the living room they were in to the console table holding up the TV. She bent to study a picture frame propped up on it. "Gabe—look!" she whispered. Her brother snuck up behind her and peered over her shoulder.

"That's... that's our parents!" Gabriel hissed. They both cast their eyes around the room. "That's how I recognize this place. Pictures from before we were born. We moved to our house not long after you were born. Dad said we needed the upsize so you and I could have our own rooms and Dad could still have his office. I mean, I was probably two when we moved so I don't remember this place at all."

"This is trippy," Natalie said.

"Agreed."

—

Davey stopped in his tracks halfway between his car and our front door, hand tightening around mine. "What's wrong, baby?" I asked.

"Auras. Inside. Two of them. Shifters."

I snorted. "Probably just Ash and Milo trying to mess with us. Move the furniture three inches to the left and all that."

"I hope you're right," David said. "Stay behind me anyway."

I fell a step behind him, still clinging to his hand as he unlocked the front door and shoved it open. He shut it firmly behind me when we were both inside.

"I know you're there," David said sternly. "I can feel your auras. Come out, Ash."

Two figures emerged from where they were hiding behind the sofa. Not Milo and Asher. Teenagers. A girl and a boy. The boy was tall—taller, even, than Davey. Though not by much. The girl was about a foot shorter. She stepped between us and the boy, just slightly. They looked a lot alike. Similar face shapes, same nose, same strong brows, same hair color and texture.

The girl swore under her breath.

"Watch your language, young lady," David said.

The girl recoiled like he'd struck her.

David blinked and shook his head—like he wasn't sure why he'd even said that. He took a deep breath. "Who are you two and how did you get in here?" he growled.

"Don't bother," the girl said. "You can't beat both of us in a fight." She cut herself off and glanced between Davey and the boy who was obviously her brother. "Actually, this young, maybe you could."

"What makes you think I wouldn't be able to?" David snapped.

"Because you taught us how to fight, Dad!" the girl snapped.

"Dad?" I quoted. "What?" I looked at David. "You're a little young for teenagers."

The boy snorted. "Well, this is going to sound ridiculous, but... we're your children. From the future. Both of yours," he said, nodding between me and Davey.

I popped out from where Davey was covering most of my body. "Wait, really?" I asked, a smile forming on my face.

"No, angel, they're not," David said. "How could they be?" I could feel the rumble of a growl forming in his chest.

The girl put one hand out placatingly. "Just, listen. Hear me out. My name is Natalie Jean Shaw. This is my older brother Gabriel David Shaw."

"Oh, my God," I said softly, moving to step closer to them. David tightened his grip on my hand.

"They're lying, angel," he said.

The boy—Gabriel—looked down at the girl—Natalie. "How do we prove it to them both?" he asked quietly. Her mouth gaped open and closed as she tried to think. "Anniversary?"

"Look at their hands. No rings. Not married yet."

"Garage code?"

"That is their anniversary, dumbass."

Gabriel swore under his breath. David flinched like the impulse to tell him off the way he had the girl reared its head.

"You could shift," Natalie suggested.

"What, not you?"

"I'm nothing special."

"You look just like him." Gabriel threw his head in David's direction.

"Yeah but you look just like—" she cut herself off again. "You know."

Gabriel shook his head. "Still—I don't think it'll prove anything."

"It's worth a shot, jerk."

"Last resort, brat."

I leaned closer to Davey. "Well, if nothing else, they're definitely siblings."

David scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Stay here, angel," he said. He stalked closer to the teenagers. "Look, you're wearing on my patience. So either tell me who you really are or f—"

"Caelum!" Natalie exclaimed.

David froze like she'd used ice magic on him. "Wh... what?" David demanded.

Natalie met his eyes. "Caelum. When you were a little boy, your imaginary friend was named Caelum. Pink sweater. Curly hair. Horns. Big smile."

David took a step away from her like she'd hit him. So similar in body language to how she'd done it before. "How... how the hell do you know that name?"

"Because you told me about him—when I was three. I decided he was my imaginary friend too. You painted such a clear picture of him that I can still see him in my head," Natalie said. "C'mon, Dad—" She caught herself. "—David. I'm not using any magic right now and not even a trained Telepath could dig that far back into your memories without you feeling it. I'm your daughter. This is your son." She gestured to Gabriel. "Look at us. Really look."

David peered at the two teenagers. I took a step forward, trying to see them better myself.

"Davey—he's got your eyes," I whispered. Gabriel's gaze met mine. The same emerald green as David's. The exact same green. He had David's nose—and the same hair texture and color, too. Stick-straight and brown. Natalie's was similar, but worn in a long French braid. "And she's got your nose." They both had David's nose.

But Natalie...

She looked a lot like me. Her eyes flicked to mine and her irises were the same color as mine.

I pushed around David and crossed the rest of the living room, circling around the back of the sofa and throwing my arms around the kids. Davey tried to protest but couldn't seem to find it in him.

Natalie rested her head against my shoulder like she was built to fit there. Gabriel rested his chin on the top of my head with practiced targeting. "My kids. My sweet children," I said—softly, happily. Natalie chuckled as tears pricked her eyes. She gave me a tight squeeze—perfectly judging how tight she could hold before she hurt me. She'd done this before.

David stared. "Shift for me. Both of you," he said.

I backed up. Gabriel and Natalie exchanged a look and a nod.

They both bent forward and shifted.

Both wolves were pitch black, and nearly the same size.

But Gabriel had a streak of grey going back over his forehead, and down his neck before disappearing under the collar of his shirt.

David was rigid as a board, staring at Gabriel.

"Angel," David breathed, reaching out for me. I took his hand, letting him gather me to his side. "He looks just like my dad."

The teens transformed back. Natalie brushed a stray hair back into her braid. "Believe us yet?" she asked in a tone that sounded so much like me it made me snicker.

Davey didn't even let me go to give the kids a hug. Both returned it with relieved enthusiasm, wrapping arms around me and him. "You're our kids," Davey whispered, almost like he didn't believe it.

"We are," Gabriel agreed. "And I'm really glad this didn't get violent."

"Pacifist," Natalie said quietly.

"Shut up, brat—I can still beat you in a fight."

"Cannot, you jerk."

"Enough," David put in.

Gabriel laughed. "Now that sounded like the you we're used to," he remarked.

I laughed along with him.

#Pups AU #answered #Redacted ASMR #Natalie Shaw #Gabriel D. Shaw #Redacted David #Redacted Angel #David Shaw #Angel #David

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cheshiresense · 2 years

Note

Are you still working on anything for One Piece? Any small tidbits to share? You write it so well and I'm starved for content.

I have a couple unposted wips, doesn't look like they'll be done anytime soon either but I can give you a random snippet. This is from my mute!Luffy AU:

Jozu and Haruta file out, and Marco makes himself comfortable with Ace still slumped against him. It's a bit of a reach but he manages to snag the medical chart off the end of Luffy's bed without getting up, and a quick flip through informs him that this was… it was close. It was really, really close. If Akainu's attack hadn't been just a bit off-centre, if Ace hadn't managed to get Luffy off the battlefield as quickly as he had, if Trafalgar hadn't come…

He clips the chart back on its hook. He doesn't much think about his next move, just does it because he does it for all his patients if he deems it necessary. Half a thought summons his flames to his hand, and then he plunges it straight into Luffy's chest.

As it turns out, perhaps he should've given some warning first. But Marco buries a fistful of phoenix fire in Luffy's chest just as a sleep-deprived Trafalgar Law with bags the size of the Moby under his eyes and clutching a mug of coffee like a lifeline walks back in at almost the exact same moment. The man takes approximately point-two seconds to register the macabre scene before instantly going from about negative-fifty to feral. In the span of maybe two heartbeats, a transparent spherical space expands to cover the entire room, his coffee is replaced by a sword, and Marco has to think fast and twist out of the way to avoid getting an electrically charged nodachi through his carotid because apparently the Surgeon of Death really is just as vicious as the rumours say.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Trafalgar snarls, blade already curving down to take Marco's head. "Get your hand out of him! Portgas-ya, why are you still sleeping?"

Ace has always been a deep sleeper, made worse by his narcolepsy, made even worse than that by a week of starvation and dehydration and stress. He'll snap awake if there's a real threat nearby, but Marco isn't that, and Trafalgar isn't either when Marco is here, so he doesn't even stir at the Heart captain's call or the way Marco has to leave him snoring in his seat in favour of jumping to his feet to sidestep the next swipe of Trafalgar's blade.

"Wait, wait!" Marco says hastily, retrieving his hand, although that probably doesn't much help his case considering the way his flames continue flickering beneath the bandages wrapped around Luffy's chest. Trafalgar's expression turns downright murderous. "I'm helping-yoi! Let me explain!"

It is admittedly somewhat disturbing even for people who are already aware of what Marco can do - this is why he prefers Nashi no Tsubute, he still has to set people on fire but it looks less like he's killing them… kind of - so the seas know Trafalgar's reaction is perfectly justified.

Trafalgar pauses, just for a second, eyes narrowed with a demand. Marco doesn't waste it.

"I can heal other people with my flames," Marco quickly clarifies to the irate surgeon who clearly does not give a single fuck about dialling down any hostility even in front of Whitebeard's second-in-command while the entire Yonkou crew is parked just outside. Marco has to respect that. Besides, even at a glance, he can tell Trafalgar has worked a miracle on Luffy. It's bound to make anyone a little protective, even if only out of professional pride. "Not completely, not instantaneously, but they give a boost to the body to help it along, and the flames will usually last for as long as the recipient's stamina does."

Trafalgar looks at him like he wants nothing more than to feed Marco to a dieting shark.

"Does Mugiwara-ya look like he has stamina to spare?" He hisses, all attitude, zero chill.

"No," Marco says calmly and lifts the hand where a thread of his flame is still connected to the pulse in his wrist. "That's why I'm using mine. The effect is even smaller this way, but it does work, and once it starts, it's better to let it run its course."

A simmering moment of silence passes as Trafalgar seems to weigh Marco's honesty, but eventually, he sheathes his blade and stalks over to Luffy instead, checking the machines and running a glowing white palm over his patient, lingering over his chest. He still doesn't look happy when he's done, but he also doesn't try to kill Marco again, and his Devil Fruit power disappears from around them.

He scrubs a hand over his face instead - he looks exhausted, has he slept at all since the surgery? - and then directs a venomous glare at Marco. "I'm monitoring this. If I say you remove your flames, you do it. He is my patient."

Marco nods without protest. "I know. I apologize-yoi. It was habit on my part, but that's no excuse. I should've asked first."

Trafalgar doesn't look any friendlier after that, but he does seem marginally appeased. "Fine, stay here, take a seat."

He eyeballs Marco like he thinks Whitebeard's first division commander is possibly mentally deficient. "I'm going to assume you know when to stop yourself if I don't tell you to stop, but just in case, if you do this until you feel like passing out," He smiles, thin and cold and actually pretty creepy. Marco wonders if he practices it in the mirror. "Make sure you get off my ship before you do, so you'll be someone else's problem instead. I agreed to take care of exactly two people for the foreseeable future, and neither of them are you."

#one piece #fic snippet #marco #trafalgar law #mute luffy AU #anonymous #msg

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jacaranda-bloom · 2 years

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FROM DUST TO LUST

Coming to the @onedirectionbigbang, Wednesday, May 25.

Explicit | 45k | Aussie Road Trip AU

Where Louis and Harry are fly-in-fly-out mine workers, coincidences are racking up at an alarming rate, karaoke is an underrated form of foreplay, and the universe most definitely works in mysterious ways.

Teaser trailer by the amazing @runaway-train-works!

Subscribe here to be notified when the story posts.

Snippet under the cut...

Louis purses his lips. He hates when people jump into things without preparation and planning and it seems like his companion is one of those people. “How about we plan the trip first before we drive off aimlessly? You know, set the sat nav, work out where we’re going to stop for breaks and food, maybe some accommodation for tonight?”

Harry twists around in his seat. “Ooohhh, you’re one of those people?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“A control freak.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s fine. I’m just more of an adventure seeker. Like to let the road unfold before me and enjoy the journey.”

Louis’ blood boils in his veins. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? He’s about to rain hellfire down on him when he catches the glint in Harry’s eyes. Cheeky, fucking, shit. He fixes Harry with a challenging stare. “Oh yeah? Care to explain your behaviour back in the departure lounge then?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Harry asks faux-innocently.

“I mean, you’re full of shit. You’re just as much of a planner as I am.”

“How do you figure that?”

Louis narrows his eyes. “There were, what, seventy people in that lounge? And yet you and I were the only ones to work out what was really going on, what the implications were going to be, and then devise a plan to get out of there. What was your process?”

The self-satisfied grin that blooms on Harry’s face is one Louis can’t help but mirror, no matter how hard he tries.

“Well, I checked the weather app, then social media, and worked out what the problem was.”

“Same,” Louis says, nodding.

“Then I checked the car park and realised-”

“There was only one rental car left.”

“Yeah. Clocked you from across the room and assumed you’d made the same deduction, but I didn’t want to create a scene or a stampede, so I just hoped I could beat you to the rental desk.”

“Hmmm… shame for you that those stupidly long legs couldn’t carry you there a bit quicker.”

“Shame for you that your arse couldn’t bounce you over faster too.”

“Oi!”

Harry’s grin turns up into a full-on smirk. “Anyway, I thought we could just get on the road and sort out the other stuff as we went along. That’s the advantage of having two people in the car.”

Louis huffs out a breath and turns to look out of the open passenger window, trying to hide his own smirk and the hint of a blush he doesn’t think could be reasonably excused by the warm weather. “Yeah. Whatever. Let’s go, Harold.”

“It’s just Harry, actually.”

“Of course it is, Harold.”

Harry makes a disgruntled growling sound at the back of his throat, but peels out of the car park anyway.

#May 23 2022 #BB #From Dust To Lust #teaser post

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slutsofren · 2 years

Note

this is for your high lady of cunning au

i have question: how do the bat boys and y/n sleep together? (assuming this takes place once the relationship is established and the main plot of the story is over)

like do they all sleep in one bed? 🛏🚶🏽‍♀️🚶🏽‍♂️🚶🏽‍♂️🚶🏽‍♂️

does y/n sleep/rotate with a different bat boy each night? etc? 🛏🚶🏽‍♀️🚶🏽‍♂️➡️ 🛌

if it's not too much, do you mind writing a little snippet or oneshot of this? (i literally had these thoughts while i was walking to the store and it hasn't left my mind since) 😭😭

oooh good question!! i hadn't considered this too much but i did have an idea of how this works-

so i like to imagine that it starts off with rotating schedules for which bed you sleep in, i mean these are three very very busy males so it really is whoever is home that night means that's where you're sleeping but i think over time, with their roles keeping them away for days or nights on end as well as your work, eventually you all end up finding yourselves in rhys room, no matter if he's home or not because he has the biggest room, the largest bed, and let's be honest, the nicest view. then, i imagine that there is that conversation about moving into a new home with a large bedroom that is solely for the four of you as well as having individual office rooms for everybody to work in, to have privacy, to store weapons, or whatever is needed.

little one-shot under the cut--

reminder this is reader x Cass/Az/Rhys polyamory & FMMM

content warnings: a little sad if u squint, mentions of lonliness, heart feels good at the end

notes: i got really soft writing this one oh my god, thank you anon!! if you ever want to know anything else, just drop it in the inbox!

word count: 1,040

read on ao3 / high lady masterlist

Sometimes you lay awake at night and listen to the sound of Velaris outside your window. You do this because you need to remind yourself that you’re alive, you’re here. You survived, your mates survived. Things were progressing and time stopped for no one.

The war is over and there is nothing in the winds to pull you from the shaky peace that you can smell outside. Most days it was shaky at best but you took what you could get.

Still, your mind danced into your worries. Cassian had sent word this morning that he won’t be home for a few days, there was a conflict between some of the war bands in Illyria keeping his attention, still he missed you as you did with him. Same could be said with Azriel, he had been overseas, spying on what was left of the human queens. He was supposed to be home two days ago but something happened and Rhysand told him to stay put for another week much to your dismay.

Rhys on the other hand… He was laying beside you, asleep. He was tired and hadn’t been sleeping well, just as you had. There were so many meetings and political headbutting going on amongst the High Lords, in the Night Court itself, as well as dealing with the freed human lands in the wake of the war. He was carrying too much and you worried he was burning his candle at both ends to keep the work from pouring onto your lap while you collaborated with rebuilding the cities that fell during Hybern’s attack.

Rhysand made you his High Lady, made you the Night Queen of Illyria, but that still did not mean he wanted to force you into political scheming so soon, not after everything you endured and not with your own task keeping you busy, but you wanted to help him as best you could.

Sometimes you wondered if he resented that request, resented your need for space to breathe away from keeping so many secrets for so long. In your heart you knew he didn’t but you couldn’t help but wonder.

All of you were working tirelessly and nonstop, hardly having time to come home and share this massive bed Morrigan bought you all as a mating gift. Most nights it was lonely without the missing occupants and during those nights, your mating bond wailed and ached in their absence.

Rhysand stirred in his sleep, pulling you from your worries. He had been laying next to you with only a hand on your thigh but he moved to lay with his head on your chest and sighed happily. The mating bond between you twisted languidly, happy as could be. Pulling you closer, he said, “Still having trouble falling asleep?”

You thread your fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head. Your voice was soft, sad, as you replied, “I miss them.”

“They’ll be home soon,” he murmured with a yawn, trying to placate that gnawing loneliness.

Neither one of you had to say their names aloud to know who you meant. Their absence was a hollow in your chest the longer it went between their visits. Even Rhysand found it difficult to come home every night when there was so much to do, so much to plan.

He placed a kiss between your breasts and trailed his hands up and down your sides. “It won’t be like this forever,” he swore to you. “Just a little longer.”

The two of you fell into a soft and comfortable silence, just listening to his people living their lives just outside the window. Holding your mate, just like this, you clutched him tighter to you and closed your eyes and let sleep take you.

Maybe hours had passed, maybe it was only a handful of moments, but soon, you felt cocooned and warm, felt a shudder of lithe pleasure ripple through you that made your eyes open.

Whatever light was trickling into the room was muted by something large. Blinking a couple times, your vision cleared, giving you a solid look at what it was.

Wings. Wings were on top of you and Rhysand who had shifted to be laying entirely on top of you, his head still resting on your chest. But you realized, it was not just one, but two sets of wings covering you and Rhys and they were not his own.

“Did we wake you,” Cassian’s voice whispered apologetically against your hair. You tried to look at him without waking Rhysand whose even breathing told you he was still fast asleep. Cassian was to your right, stripped down to his sleepwear bottoms.

He looked just as tired as Rhysand but with a new bruise on his jaw, faded enough to tell you it was days old. “Cass-,” you sighed and leaned into him, bringing your right hand up to touch him where you could. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

Cassian kissed you on your shoulder as he pulled the sheet up on him. “Me too.”

It was then did you realize he said ‘we’.

You pulled from Cassian and looked over to your left where, sure enough, Azriel was eyeing you. Stars, he looked worn out. All of them did. The realization broke your heart and you reached over to pull your mate closer. “Az-,”

“I know,” he consoled, “We’re here. We felt it too.”

Azriel placed a kiss on your forehead and settled closer to you and Rhysand. From the outside, you wondered how the four of you looked, three winged males and their fated mate between them, loved and cherished.

Without having to search for them long, you reached out and felt the three individual mating bonds you had with the males, three bonds that twisted in unabashed glee at the proximity of you to them and they hummed. Pure unadulterated joy.

It was nights like this, where the four of you shared the bed that you wondered how it could hold you all but then once your hearts began to beat in synch with the others, you were just grateful for the time you had.

It wasn’t always like this, but it was damn good when it was.

#the high lady talks #the high lady of cunning #the high lady meta #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #reverse harem acotar #inbox 💌#anon ask #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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mixelation · 2 years

Text

i feel like posting something, so here's one of those "everyone is impressed with sakura!!" scenes but it's from a wild AU

the AU is wild in that it's an AU of another AU. the "main" AU is one i've posted snippets of before (here and here), where Sakura is Kakashi's apprentice. The main gist is that Kizashi dies saving Kakashi's life and asks him on his death bed to watch out for Sakura, and things spiral out of control.

This is from an AU of that AU where Kakashi and Sakura transmigrate into a NEW AU where Minato lives. Yes yes, shut the fuck up, it was summer 2020 when I started this and my life was weird. The main points of this is AU are: Minato survived but Kushina didn't. The Uchiha coup didn't happen but ""someone"" massacred everyone but Itachi and Sasuke. Itachi is.... team 7's sensei 0:)

This scene is from a team lunch at the Namikaze house.

***

“Are you seriously talking about different types of soap?” Naruto asks, sounding offended.

“What else would we talk about?” Minato asks, bemused.

“Something cool,” Naruto replies. “What’s the point of you having cool ANBU guys over if you just talk about soap?”

The other genin seem similarly unimpressed with the conversation.

“Maa, we can talk about something cool,” Kakashi tells him. “For example, I recently bought a cast-iron pan.”

The genin quickly excuse themselves off the back porch and into the yard. They start a game disguised as training, where Sakura and Naruto test Sasuke’s new sharingan with various ninjutsu, trying to get a hit in. It’s mostly Naruto trying to overwhelm Sasuke with clones while Sakura hangs back, occasionally substituting out with a clone to try and take a jab at Sasuke.

Kakashi watches them out of the corner of his eye while Itachi describes some sort of misadventure with the mission office. That’s a pretty good formation for Sakura, Kakashi thinks, especially if he figures out a good finishing jutsu for her…

“Who did you say you talked to?” Minato asks, frowning. “New teams should be getting priority for D-ranks.”

“Tsk, tsk, Sensei,” Kakashi interrupts. “You said no work talk.”

Minato sighs, a grin tugging at his lips. “You’re right. I’m getting out the sake.”

“I don’t…” Itachi starts, but a drink is poured for him nonetheless. Naruto shrieks in dismay as his real body narrowly avoids being set on fire by Sasuke. Minato pauses for just a fraction of a second, glancing over at his child.

Itachi stares in dismay at his cup of sake while they chat. Kakashi is reminded almost painfully of his time on Team 7, before Minato was the Yellow Flash and when they had down time to just talk. It’s not the same, of course, because Itachi is nothing like Rin or Obito, but it’s still something that Kakashi had previously thought he’d never have again. He’d never appreciated it when he had it, and he wishes he could stretch this moment out forever.

Minato is cut off mid-sentence when Naruto abruptly screams in actual pain.

Here’s how it went down, as far as Kakashi can tell: Sakura, carefully pacing around the fray of Sasuke versus several Naruto clones, had determined which Naruto was the real one based on past patterns of behavior. When Naruto had charged in to take Sasuke on with his own body, Sakura had decided to give him a hand by substituting out with his hitai-ate, positioning herself on Naruto’s shoulders and therefore above Sasuke and angling to smack him in the face with the broad side of her sword.

She hadn’t been expecting Naruto to suddenly yell and jerk in pain, though, and she slips. Sasuke is also distracted by Naruto’s yell and does nothing to dodge the sword, now coming blade-first at his shoulder. Sakura moves to correct herself, looking panicked, and she doesn’t get to find out if she was about to accidentally stab Sasuke or not because Kakashi flash-steps over and yanks her back.

“What did I tell you about being reckless with a sword?” he asks her.

“Sorry, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura tells him sheepishly, dangling by her armpits from Kakashi’s hands.

Itachi, on the scene as quickly as Kakashi, has not stopped his brother from falling over. He does, however, offer him a hand up.

“What even happened?” Minato asks, perplexed. He’s squatted behind his son, also fallen on his ass, examining the back of his head. “You’re bleeding.”

“I don’t know!” Naruto replies. “Sakura, what the heck.”

“You need to tie your hitai-ate properly,” Minato scolds, gingerly touching the back of Naruto’s head. Naruto’s hitai-ate is in Minato’s other hand, because the Namikaze house is so littered with Hiraishin seals that Minato had been able to grab it out of the air before teleporting to his son’s aid, all before Kakashi had even gotten his hands around Sakura’s arm. “Another ninja can’t grab it with substitution if it’s secured--”

“Dad, I know,” Naruto cuts him off. “I know how to tie my hitai-ate, you know!”

Minato looks down at the hitai-ate in his hands. It’s indeed tied correctly, with several gold hairs sticking out of the knot.

“Did you tie it into your hair?” Sakura asks, affronted. “How was I supposed to know--”

“Sakura,” Kakashi cuts her off.

Sakura twitches but apologizes for ripping Naruto’s hair out. She seems unconcerned about hurting Naruto physically, but her apology does turn gravely, comically genuine about the hair. If Naruto had yanked out Sakura’s hair, Kakashi is not sure even Minato would be able to save him from her wrath. Hair is very serious business for her.

“Am I bald?” Naruto asks, sounding horrified, and Sakura’s eyes widen in horror. Sasuke snorts.

“It’s not like you can look any worse,” Sasuke tells him with a smirk. Naruto sticks his tongue out at him, and Sakura relaxes.

Now that it’s clear no one has been seriously injured or emotionally scarred by hair-pulling, the genin collapse into juvenile name calling. Minato stands, turning his son’s hitai-ate over in his hands with an oddly curious look on his face. The hitai-ate is still knotted at the back, with several of Naruto’s golden hairs sticking out.

“Did you not notice extra resistance?” Itachi asks Sakura with a tone of disapproval. “You shouldn’t rip things off your allies like that.”

“I thought…” Sakura waves her arms in a sort of helpless gesture. “I noticed it was on better than Kakashi’s, but Kakashi doesn’t tie his right.”

“Oi,” Kakashi objects at the same time Naruto squawks, “So you just ripped it off my head?!”

“Maybe that’s your finishing mood,” Sasuke says, crossing his arms and turning his mocking smirk to Sakura. “Just substitute yourself with someone’s hair--”

“Sakura,” Minato interrupts, and everyone goes quiet. “How did you do that?”

Sakura shifts nervously. “I’m not sure what you mean?” she says, voice carefully polite. “It’s just the substitution jutsu…”

“Most people can’t move something that well-attached,” Itachi tells her. He sounds dismissive, like he thinks this limitation is due to a lack of effort from other people. Maybe to a genius like Itachi, being able to push the limits of the substitution jutsu is just a matter of practicing it. Kakashi had, being a genius himself, been conceptualizing Sakura’s experimentation about the same way.

...although, now that Kakashi thinks about it, he’s not actually sure he could dislodge someone’s properly attached hitai-ate with the substitution jutsu. At least, not on the first try. He forms the hand signs.

“Sempai,” Itachi snaps, whipping his head around to frown at Kakashi when he tries to take Itachi’s hitai-ate.

“What’s her range?” Minato asks, even as he shoots Kakashi an annoyed look when Kakashi tries it on him next.

Neither Kakashi nor Itachi answer, currently distracted by trying to substitute with various pieces of the other’s uniforms. Neither of them are successful.

“What are you two doing?” Sasuke, sharingan still active and eyes darting between them, asks.

“Sakura,” Minato tries next, apparently fine with his shinobi trying to pull petty pranks on each other instead of listening to him under these circumstances. He shoots her his friendliest smile. “Can you substitute out with my hitai-ate?”

Sakura stiffens, and Kakashi drops his attempts to take Itachi’s shoes.

“Respectfully, I’d rather not,” Sakura says flatly. Kakashi puts a hand on her shoulder, and Itachi yanks so hard at his weapon’s pouch that he has to shift his stance ever so slightly.

“What’s going on?” Naruto asks, leaning his head back to blink up at his father. “Can I have my hitai-ate back?”

“I’ve just never heard of anyone using the substitution jutsu like that,” Minato says mildly, handing Naruto back his hitai-ate.

“Yeah, Sakura-chan is really smart, you know!” Naruto agrees.

Sakura’s face is pink. Kakashi is sure it’s more from the Hokage’s words than Naruto’s.

Naruto picks at the knot of his hitai-ate, looking forlorn as hair falls from it. Minato very deliberately puts his hands together in a hand sign, and then suddenly Itachi is staggering back and Minato’s weight is on Kakashi’s shoulders.

Kakashi’s eyes are bare, his hitai-ate now on the ground where Minato had been standing. Sakura has done this to him countless times, which is about the only reason he stays on his feet. It’s a close call though, as Minato is a full grown man and not a preteen girl, and he also did that so quickly Kakashi didn’t have time to brace himself. Kakashi does some embarrassing teetering, and Sakura yelps in surprise and jumps back.

“Oh, interesting,” Minato says. “You really don’t tie your hitai-ate very well, Kakashi.”

“In my defense,” Kakashi replies, trying to keep his cool with the Hokage squatting on his shoulders, “I do have to take it on and off a lot.”

“Hokage-sama, please,” Itachi hisses. His hitai-ate has been jerked to the side slightly by a failed attempt from Minato, but it’s still in place.

“Sakura, can you substitute out with Itachi’s hitai-ate?” Minato asks, leaning his elbow on the top of Kakashi’s head. “I can’t seem to get it.”

Sasuke’s eyes are darting furiously around the whole group, trying to demystify the Hokage’s interest. Even Naruto looks suspiciously around as he re-ties his hitai-ate.

“Uh,” Sakura replies. “I’ve never… tried…?”

“Go on, then,” Minato prompts. Kakashi can practically hear the smile in his voice. “I promise you won’t get in trouble.”

Sakura only hesitates a few moments. Itachi crosses his arms as his student appears on his shoulders. Sakura looks less sure than the usually gleeful look of chaos she reserves for Kakashi, and Itachi levels Minato with an unimpressed look.

Minato, however, is clearly entering whatever excited fugue he gets into when he’s developing new and horrible fuinjutsu experiments.

“Alright, Sasuke,” Minato continues in his best sensei voice. He drums the top of Kakashi’s head with his fingers. “Can you tell me what Sakura is doing that I’m not?”

Or, perhaps, Minato is having flashbacks to being a jounin sensei himself, because he’s clearly now guiding Sasuke through analyzing the situation with his new doujutsu, instead of Kakashi who has his out and has had it for years.

Sasuke looks taken aback for a moment. Then he straightens and says, “I’m not sure. I can’t… really see in that much detail yet.” He shoots his brother a look, as if asking if that’s normal. Itachi just tilts his head. “Sakura’s using a lot less chakra than you three, though.”

“Ah, so maybe us old folks are doing too much,” Minato says, and he shifts on Kakashi’s back.

Sakura very awkwardly and gingerly slides off of Itachi's shoulders.

“It’s not like moving a big object,” she says. “It’s like-- um. The difference between pulling the headband harder and undoing the knot.”

“Hmm,” Minato replies, like this metaphor makes perfect sense to him.

“I don’t get it,” Naruto says loudly. “What’s so interesting about-- DAD!”

Minato is suddenly holding his son under one arm. Kakashi snatches Naruto’s hitai-ate out of the air.

“This is some really impressive chakra work, Sakura,” Minato says, even as he grins cheekily down at his pouting son.

Sakura doesn’t preen like she would if Kakashi complimented her. Instead, she looks more quietly pleased, her cheeks going pink and a smile tugging at her lips.

#my writing #the adventures of beans and dog man and also itachi

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jisungparker · 2 years

Text

cos you know this love is gonna last

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

song: frank ocean - blasted

themes: fluff, smut (warnings below)

snippet: his breath catches when you see evidence of yourself dotted around. a polaroid seungmin once took, before having felix quietly gift it to their elder. beside the polaroid is a picture you had quickly sketched of him one lunchtime, his eyes closed, lashes kissing his cheeks - the picture of peace. surrounding it are your mindless doodles and scribbles. only mindless to you though, never to him. 8.5k

warnings: sub!chan, soft dom!reader, thigh humping, exhibitionism (no one around), oral (m receiving), fingering (m receiving), cum eating, edging, hints at mdlb, tattooing, alcohol, college!au

a/n: hey.. i love bang chan :p also, i love this song but the themes in this don’t match completely. it’s barbara! lmk about warnings!

“you forgot to carry the one.”

there are few things that can steal chan’s attention from his work. his eyes haven’t strayed from his scrawled notes for close to three hours. he isn’t certain, but he could guess as much from the hues of the setting sun pouring over the library, the dryness of his eyes and the stiffness in his neck. it is quickly soothed though, by nimble fingers pressing into the muscles, winding themselves into the throbbing knots. forcing down a groan, his hand reaches for the wrist, attached to the arm, attached to the body of his sole distraction, tugging gently until you present yourself.

“hey you,” he whispers, smiling dumbly up at you. you briefly wonder how someone so smart can do so. his smile straightens out when you stroke his cheek, his breaths stuttering as you lean down without sparing the room so much as a glance. “uh- there are people here.”

“i know,” is all you say as you close the gap, his lips moulding with yours. in this moment, chan decides he’s allowed a brief reprieve from his studies to focus on his other commitments. so he lets you have your way. with his fingers still clasping your wrist, he grasps tighter when your blunt nails find his nape, dragging them gently along his scalp. it’s only as your tongue slides into his mouth, circling his own, drawing out the early notes of a moan from his throat, do you see his earlier point. so you pull away, eyes scanning his face, locking on his already swollen lips as they chase yours. his dark shining eyes follow you as you fight the urge to crawl into his lap. “what you working on?”

“hm?” he snaps out of his trance when you smirk, his eyes widening while he chews on his lip, forcing his gaze to the notes before him. “oh, yeah- just, stuff.”

“looks hard,” you whisper, leaning over his shoulder to read the page. he grins when you recoil, his illegible handwriting a complete contrast of your near perfect script. “i don’t get how surgeons cut organs out of people, but can’t write their own name.”

“i’m not a surgeon yet,” he blushes, eyes finding you again. “and if mine is so bad, write my notes out then.” he huffs playfully, offering you his pen, cheeks balling when you take it, rising to his challenge.

“what should i write?” giving into the urge, you settle yourself in his lap, ready to show off some new cursive.

“uh, my name. right.. here.” he presses his finger to the middle of a blank page he had just torn out for you. when he looks down and sees it - bang chan - he needn’t think twice about what’s missing. “ok, write yours.. here.”

and you do, your wrist flicking, lips pursed as you drag his pen over the bumpy grains of his recycled paper. though initially confused and amused by your stationery snobbery, he’s always been impressed. you’d once likened pens and pencils to tattoo needles and scalpels, their use and range sparking both inspiration and headache. like now, when he snatches his pen back from you and scribbles over your work.

“hey!” you start, a decibel too loud for the space. “why’d you ask if you were just gonna-” when he moves his hand aside, you see his miniscule addition. a scribbled heart now sits in the small space between both of your names. he sees the beginnings of a smile steal your lips before you catch yourself, lips curling into a smirk instead. “you heart me?”

“mhm,” he hums, lips puckering against the skin of your temple. he welcomes you as you lean into him, his body naturally moulding around your frame. “too much maybe.”

“no such thing as too much.”

“you think so?” he mumbles in your ear, grinning harder as you nod shyly, sweetness continuing to pour out of you the longer you’re alone with him. “well, what if I said i love you?”

“i-” the second of silence and your stuttered response almost makes him backtrack before you turn to him. you’re nearly breathless when you admit, “i’d say i love you too.”

he finds the will to inhale again, his heart hammering into your back as you sink into his chest once more. a comforting silence washes over you both as the setting sun disappears behind the trees by the lake. fidgeting with your fingers, chan finds calm in this moment, his lips pressed to your shoulder, his words muffle when he finally speaks.

“y/n?” he waits long past your hum, quietly whispering the words he keeps screaming in his head. it’s not ‘what if’, it’s just- ”i love you.”

in the seconds after his admission, a lot happens. you struggle in his hold to join your lips with his, but you do. in the absence of thought, your body knows you must feel him. it’s a need you have now, a need that negates your bottom tiers. it’s not sustenance you need, nor security. it’s chan. the need for him only doubles in his presence, and triples in his absence. similarly, chan staves off reason, with shallow breaths, his body responds to you in the slightest of ways. like now, as your arms wind around his neck, and you press yourself against him, feeling his heart pound into your chest. you easily swallow his whines, drawing more with every drag of your fingers through his hair. you take pride in reducing him to this. not nothing, just something he has never been, giving him something he’s never had. being his distraction, his haven, his peace.

you take it very seriously.

it’s partly why you ignore the soft ‘ahem’, that sounds to your left. chan ignoring it for reasons of his own. he’s too caught up in how warm you feel against him, how the glow of the setting sun couldn’t rival this feeling if it tried. he’s too far gone. he’s forgoing reason, ignoring the very eyes he feels on him that try to impede on this moment, in favour of focusing on you.

but it sounds again, over the sound of his mewls and the wet smack of your lips. he can now feel the presence, forcing blood to his cheeks. you feel it against the soft skin of your forearms, his battle with reason. you feel his grip on your thigh slip, his hand rising to your neck, thumb resting on your chin. you sense his hesitance, so you relinquish him with a final tug. it’s nearly enough to draw him back in, his lip pulled taut between your teeth. but he finds it in him to swallow down his desire, running a hand through his hair, trying to collect himself as he forces his gaze away from you.

“oh,” it’s just susie. “hey susie?”

“hi chris.” she whispers. because this is a silent space for learning or because she’s flustered by having just watched you nearly eat the boy from clinsci alive. chan prays it’s the former. “i was just bringing back your notes.” he nods gratefully, though in obvious confusion. it couldn’t wait until next class? “it was kind of hard to read, so i rewrote them and copied it in case you wanted my added points.”

“oh!” he smiles gratefully this time, taking the sheets of paper and eyeing the penmanship. it is infinitely clearer, infinitely better. but not you better. “thank you for that, you didn’t have to.”

“no worries.” only then does he notice how oddly she’s behaving. not in gesture, she’s always doing things like this for him. it’s just how she is. no, she’s never this fidgety, at least not since they first met. but now she’s hopping from one foot to the other, wringing her hands around her arms as she clings to her books. “who’s this?” she asks bravely, glancing to his immediate right.

ah, at last. it’s his time to shine.

chan might be one of the brightest medical juniors at clé, but he alone has a doctorate in you.

“this is my girlfriend, y/n,” he announces with pride, finally facing you and solving the puzzle of susie’s odd behaviour. hell, it’s the same deathly glare minho greeted him with when you first introduced them, with jisung doing his best to lighten the mood for your sake. following the awkward meeting, you and chan had spoken at length about this before you ever met his friends. though you’re sure it was near enough impossible not to warm up to felix, it definitely softened the blow for when the rest later showed up.

now though. now you looked like murder. less its incarnate, but rather its executor. your eyes are dark for a reason other than chan. a reason that seemed far more sinister to the average person, because the average person wasn’t like you and your friends. you didn’t pretend, save face. nor did you get up from your seat on the other side of the room to hand deliver notes you had rewritten for a boy who should mean nothing to you.

of course, chan saw none of that. all he saw was you. you decide that’s enough to soften your face a touch. that, and the soft poke he offers your cheek, trying to encourage the same change. “y/n,” he starts, continuing when you look at him. “this is susie, she’s premed too.” you just nod, indifferent to her backstory but happy just listening to him talk. deciding that’s enough for introductions, chan goes to thank susie again, in the hopes of politely dismissing her, but she has other ideas.

“it’s nice to meet you! what do you study?” she asks innocently, leaning her thigh against the adjacent table, deciding to get comfy. a short silence passes where you don’t answer, not actually listening to the kind girl, eyes locked instead on chan. you always tell him you’re sure god made him by hand, the words forcing a beautiful flush to his smooth cheeks. your memory of this keeps you hooked, missing her question entirely.

so chan responds for you. “uh- her major is fine art, but she’s a tattoo artist.”

“apprentice.” you correct, seemingly able to hang on to his every word.

“wow!” she gasps. you recoil involuntarily, head snapping to the girl. “that’s so cool!” you try to force a smile, but it’s more just the corners of your lips tucking into your cheeks, looking exactly like it is. forced. returning her attention to chan, she takes the awkward and extended silence as her cue to leave. “see you tomorrow, chris.”

he offers a genuine smile. because he’s a genuine person. the thought brings a genuine smile to your own lips, forcing his brow to rise when he turns back to you. “what are you thinking so hard about?”

“you.” you sigh truthfully, placing a soft peck to his warm cheek. “how you’re really pretty up close.”

“yeah?” you nod, closing your lips gently around his shy smile, earning the softest hum. “glad you think so.”

“you know what else?” he shakes his head, silently begging you to divulge every little stray thought that passes through your head. no matter how random or irrelevant.

he soon finds it is neither.

“i love you too.”

[02:19] Baby: sent one attachment

[02:30] dr bang: Hahaha Felix just sent me that

[02:31] Baby: he’s quick

[02:31] Baby: i just sent him that

[02:31] dr bang: Ok two questions

[02:31] dr bang: First one, why are you sending Felix TikToks before you send them to me?

[02:32] Baby: it’s how we bond

[02:33] dr bang: Cute, still not fair

[02:34] dr bang: Second one, why are you up?

[02:34] Baby: sent one attachment

[02:35] Baby: doing laundry

[02:36] dr bang: Alone? It’s 3am

[02:37] Baby: you know it’s always rammed in here

it has been about ten minutes since then. hoping he’s fallen asleep, you busy yourself with your for you page, eyes slowly drooping as you gradually succumb to the warmth of the campus laundrette. you would fall right asleep if it wasn’t the scariest basement in living history. the mouldy walls leaked with condensation, the exposed brick eroding by the second. the machines you’re using rattle under the weight of your loads but it still doesn’t drown out the eerie howl of wind through the slightly cracked window above. you try not to look through it, focusing instead on your phone. you hate to admit you’re terrified. you had only ever done it once, it was a similar night to tonight. weeks worth of laundry piling up in your hamper before you enlisted jisung’s help with the empty promise of a fun filled evening.

you don’t have the luxury of a lie this time. so instead, you hold onto the idea that at least felix might still be up.

but suddenly you freeze, your eye on the window up above, a lone figure passing in the night. your thumbs type out felix’s name without you realising, the lone digit trembling over the call button when the door opens to reveal your killer.

“chan! you scared the shit out of me!” he notes the small tremble in your voice before relief floods you and he immediately feels bad. “why are you here?”

“i was still at the library, knew you’d be scared,” you soften then, eyes locking with his as he lowers his bag. reaching you, he passes a thumb over your cheek, letting his fingers find your neck. he pouts when you exhale, your need to appear strong waning in his hold. “you don’t need to be scared, i’m here now.”

you only nod, gripping his wrist in silent thanks. “it’s late though,” you remind, a little hazy from your quickly draining fear and his slow leaning face. “don’t you have class tomorrow?”

“i was already up,” he mumbles an inch from your lips, his breath tickling the skin. “i just want you to feel safe.”

“then you should’ve sent changbin-” his fingers fold into your sides then, tickling you through your sweatshirt. “ah! okay! i’m sorry! look, the wash is done!”

he watches you unload before rising to help you load the dryers, swallowing the immediate pang of longing from the domesticity of it all. he pulls you close when you stuff your hands in your pockets, stopping you fishing out tokens before shoving in his own. he only grins at your protest, kissing your forehead when you finally relent. when he’s done, he grabs your hand.

“come on, let’s go.”

“go where?” he doesn’t answer, he just eyes the time left on the dryers before picking up his bag and dragging you towards the exit. the air is crisp. there isn’t a soul in sight, and while that usually makes you cautious, a sense of calm washes over you as chan wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side.

“i never knew it could be this quiet here,” he breathes, disturbing the silence but never the peace. “i’ve never been out here this late.”

“aren’t you always pulling all nighters?” it’s how you two met. you remember his slumped form trudging through the halls of his dorm as you snuck out of jisung’s. he’s dressed similarly to that night, a hoodie tied snug around his head, sweats loosely hugging his hips. there’s less fatigue in his eyes, mild excitement in its place.

“yeah, but that’s different.” he doesn’t bother to explain, instead letting a blissful silence follow, one that carries you both to the lake by the yellow wood. from here, you can see the glowing lights of the library. if you squint, you could probably make out the slumped figures of your peers. so you don’t. there’s always more you could be doing for your future, chan’s presence always reminds you of such. but tonight you ignore it. tonight you appreciate the calm his presence brings.

“why are we here?” you ask with your chin on his chest. he laid you down between his legs, his eyes cast skyward as you shamelessly gawk at him. the more you relax against him, the more you feel his heart beat against you, his body firm beneath you. “you should be sleeping.”

“so should you,” your eyes roll at his easy retort, it’s almost laughable.

“i’m not premed.”

“so?” it has become a habit of his to compare the two, to liken your commitment, your purpose. but you aren’t the same, not to the world and definitely not to you. “i’m not sure how sleep is dependent on your major.”

“you know what i mean, christopher.”

“actually, i don’t,” he clasps his fingers over the small of your back when he winds his arms around your waist. casting his gaze on you, he tucks his chin into his chest. “explain it to me.”

“i don’t think you need me to dumb it down for you.”

“let’s pretend i do,” his fingers unclasp, allowing him to press them into your sides, palms massaging the soft skin there, arms squeezing you tighter. “tell me why you think your major doesn’t deserve as much credit.”

“you’re gonna save lives.”

“and?” he rises when you scoff, his elbows planted in the grass as he glares playfully at you. “people are going to be far happier to see you than me.” you just ignore him, happy knowing he has no concrete argument. “i know i would be.”

“i could say the same about you.” his glare softens into an eye roll, his fingers rising to sweep hair out of your face to better watch you flatter him. “you know i would happily let you rearrange my insides.”

his brows rocket skyward at your unabashed claim, his hands slipping back to your waist without much thought. he falters for a moment, his fingers dusting your sides with slow passes over your exposed skin. nuzzling further into his chest, his thick hoodie absorbs each press of your lips to his covered skin. he hums anyway, warmed by the gesture, moved by your efforts. a chilling gust forces his hands up your jumper, fingers ducking under the fabric, pressing into your clothed back. he feels you slowly shuffle up the length of him, your face finally appearing above his after what feels like aeons.

“hi.”

there’s a beat before your lips meet, yours pressing ever so softly to his, humming against his pouted pair as you pass your tongue over them. they part easily, his silent submission to what he slightly fears but woefully hopes is to come. he’s quickly assured by your knee as you rise to anchor it firmly between his thighs, finding leverage while offering up slight relief as you slowly tease him. his palms steadily rise up your sides, thumbs rubbing tiny circles against the soft skin of your breasts, his pants deepened with every suck on his tongue.

chan immediately feels heady, his nerves fried as you press your thigh to his crotch, tongue licking at his pearlescent teeth. when yours close around his slick bottom lip though, offering a torturous cocktail to the senses, he groans beneath you, his hips grinding down against your tensed thigh.

“fuck.”

“you like that?” it’s a pointless ask. the answer is painted in his hung jaw and black eyes; his helpless palming at your breasts, humping up at your leg. it’s more an assurance, of his presence, his consent. “do you want me here?” he only bites his lip, eyes gazing hazily at you as he nods. “say it.”

“yes-” he hisses. “yes, please.”

“we can go back-” he grinds down against you again, quickly shaking his head before gripping your waist, holding you in place.

“i can’t- i can’t wait.” you mistake the tears swimming in his eyes for stars. though his beauty is ever present, under the stars he shines in kind and yet in such a different way. as if the world wasn’t so vast anymore, so unending, so winding. with chan beneath you, whimpering as you encourage him to let go, his throbbing length pulsing against your thigh, you see the world isn’t so boundless.

the world is five foot and seven inches of flesh and bone, muscle and blood. it whines your name as if you were named for its utterance alone. it clings to you for dear life, pulling you against it with no other need than to feel you, to hold you. the world comes to a halt as its pleasure peaks, erupting like geysers, like lava, like springs. it watches arduously, employing every final drop of energy as you soothe it, cooing in sweet wonder.

the world is bang chan. or, at least yours is.

lunch is drawing to an end when you’re joined by one body too many. then two, then three. the ambush ends as a fourth places itself reluctantly to your left, glaring at the body opposite before pressing his lips to your cheek. “sorry about him.”

him, is felix lee. warm, sweet, personable.

“what do you all want?” asks minho - cold, unpleasant - and unphased by felix’s bright eyes and matching smile.

“to introduce ourselves?” seungmin answers in felix’s stead, a bite to his tone that you’re glad challenges minho’s.

“not interested-” minho starts, only to splutter at the stomp on his foot.

“i’m han, you all know y/n,” chan pulls you closer to him, almost beaming with pride at his being the reason for that. “and this ray of sunshine is minho.”

“i’m felix,” the blond starts with a hand to his chest, before pointing his thumb to his left, “this is seungmin. changbin, uh-” he pauses to search and find a still standing and stoic, but waving, changbin behind him. “and chan, of course.” you unconsciously lean into the man when mentioned, feeling him hold you tighter. “we have two other friends but they’re in class. but they’ll be at the star wars marathon tonight, so you can meet them later.”

“at what?” minho deadpans. “we’re busy.”

“we are?” you ask suddenly, looking worriedly between he and felix. unbeknownst to chan, felix wasn’t deranged. he had text you about tonight before ever thinking of approaching your group of self titled delinquents.

“yeah,” jisung chimes in, visibly bothered by the fact that he has to agree with minho. “last night, you said to keep tonight free.”

“yeah,” you repeat, pointing at felix. “for this.”

“no.” minho refuses, moving to rise from the table when you and jisung pull him right back down. “you said we’d be drinking, not watching a ‘star war’-”

“we will drink!” felix promises, kindly ignoring minho’s mispronunciation and instead listing off the variety of booze he had for the occasion. “we’re making cocktails for each film, and we’ll have drinking games-”

“not interested-”

“we’ll be there.” minho cuts eyes at you at that, resulting in a silent standoff, an unspoken argument. your hard yet pleading eyes finally break through his exterior when jisung shoves him, forcing his eyes to roll before he casts his hardened gaze on chan.

“how many films?”

“nine.”

“nine?”

you don’t make it past phantom menace.

with a possibly too in depth star wars bingo, the boozy movie marathon slowly evolved into a small soirée. with music blaring wall to wall, courtesy of han and changbin hitting it off, and around the clock cocktails, courtesy of minho and felix hitting it off, it pretty much left a passed out jeongin and hyunjin, a still engrossed film student seungmin - and you. you and chan that is.

“this isn’t how i pictured it,” you mutter just loud enough to float over the noise from the living room and kitchen below. “but it’s very.. you.”

looking around the room, he pauses. he always thought it bare, it paled in comparison to yours - covered ceiling to floor in vinyl covers and hand drawn art, crystals and candles perched on every available surface, spine bent books in every shelved crevice - where you both tend to spend your time. more for lack of choice than anything. the boys lived far from clé’s main campus, maybe in the hopes of forcing chan into a normal sleep schedule, though more likely due to last minute finds, fate led them here. at times you wonder if chan didn’t live in the library, whether you’d ever see him. it is in part why he never bothered with his room. he rarely saw it.

his breath catches when you see evidence of yourself dotted around though. a polaroid seungmin once took, before having felix quietly gift it to their elder. beside the polaroid is a picture you had quickly sketched of him one lunchtime, his eyes closed, lashes kissing his cheeks - the picture of peace. you even find a stray sticky note you’d hidden on his person when you found him in the library once after a night out, your lipstick kiss. surrounding it are your mindless doodles and scribbles. only mindless to you though, never to him.

as your fingers brush over his desk, he holds his breath as they stall over your first ever gift to him: a personalised stationery set. it’s untouched. “you didn’t like it?”

“no- i loved it.” he quickly corrects, slipping into the space behind you. “o just don’t want to use it on notes, it feels like a waste.”

“mm.” carrying on, your fingers meet the polaroid. you lean forward, squinting at the image. “when was that?”

“my birthday.” he reminds, pulling you back to his chest. “at the arcade downtown.”

“oh yeah! i broke two nails playing street fighter,” when he hears your pout, he laughs at the memory. “funny, you weren’t laughing when i beat your high score.”

“no, but i was when felix beat yours..” he mumbles into your shoulder, pressing his lips to your skin. slipping his fingers in the gaps between yours, he stares down at them thoughtfully, flipping your hands palm up. “You don’t have them long anymore.” you shake your head, leaning your head back on his shoulder, humming when he kisses your temple. “why is that, did you get bored?”

“d’you want the real answer or the one i gave the boys?”

you feel his chest swelling in time with his recoil. there is something you two will share that the boys are yet to know, that they may never know. yet in the same breath he’s nervous, but ultimately intrigued. “what did you tell them?”

with a laugh, you release his hands, bending your fingers, wistfully eyeing your short, simply kept nails. “i told them i had to cut them for my apprenticeship. but miroh is pretty relaxed about stuff like that, way more than the other place was.”

“but you didn’t tell the boys that?”

“nope,” spinning in his hold, you finally face him, shrugging as you admit, “i lied.”

“why?” he asks brazenly, eyeing the sudden darkness lingering in your gaze.

“because,” tucking stray hairs behind his ears, you gulp when he parts his lips, tongue patiently sweeping over his bottom lip. “i wasn’t sure you wanted me to tell them.”

“me?” his brows shoot upward, veiled slightly by the loose strands you managed to miss. the picture of perfect confusion. perfection period, really. “what do you mean?”

with an unreadable stare, you glance over your shoulder, eyeing the polaroid, your index and middle finger on display to bookmark your misery. misery that only led to joy.

“do you remember what happened after?”

“y/n.”

chan’s mewl was enough to break through your lust induced haze, his taut neck painted in hues of pink and purple, a willing victim to your bitten lips. lips that had just left the same marks on his hips and inner thighs where you lay now, teeth running up his tender skin, a soft kiss pressed to the base of his cock’s underside, his tip leaking as you slowly pump your finger. one slow press to his prostate has him keening, a low gargle sounding as he swallows down his pleasure.

“hm?” you whisper against his tip, grinning as it twitches, leaks. offering a soft suck, you lick at his slit, your free hand palming his quivering thigh. “what is it, baby?”

“i-i-” you can’t make yourself feel bad. not when he looks like an angel. skin smoother than the finest porcelain, painted finer than the classics ever dreamed. he’s god’s proclamation to earth, his gift to you. so you should feel bad, but as you lick him from base to tip, pumping your finger with gentle drags over his soft spot, you can’t do it. not when you finally relent, letting him hump up into your warm, wet mouth, and chase a release he simultaneously repels. how could pleasure feel so good yet so frightening? like the calm of rain before the strike of thunder. the crashing waves before a devastating tsunami.

and there it is. chan’s descent from the edge as you steal another looming orgasm.

“please,” he begs, jaw slacking as your cool spit meets your middle finger, your buffed broken nail sheathed within the walls of your lover as it joins the other. “fu-oh my god, fuck-”

one bob of your head, one curl of your fingers and a swallow around his tip has his cum spilling down your throat, gathering at the corners of your mouth as you gulp it down, moaning as he shakes beneath you. his breaths alone filling your room until you release him, his softening dick falling to his thigh as you crawl up to him.

“chan?” his hum is hardly a whisper, more a deep breath. “hey, are you okay?”

“‘m fine.” he mumbles, raising an arm to pull you down to him by the waist.

“happy birthday, baby.” it’s muffled against the skin of his

chest where your lips press before you reach for the covers, finally deciding to protect his modesty.

chan blinks, as the memory plays in his head. at least you assume as much from the flush crawling up his neck to his soft cheeks. thay and the strain in his jeans, pressing between your hips. he gulps when you reach down, thumb sweeping the skin above his button and zip.

“do you?” he moves to nod, but instead shakes his head, leaning into your palm as you cradle his cheek with a quiet tsk. “well that’s a shame, sorry i didn’t make your birthday more memorable for you-”

“n-no, you did,” he rushes, kissing your faux pout. “i just forgot, that’s all. it’s my fault.”

“no,” you frown, gently pushing him back toward the edge of his twin bed. “it’s not your fault.” he clings to your hips when you climb over him, straddling his thighs as you kiss him, teeth clashing as you steal his breath. “i just need to remind you.”

[14:16] dr bang: Good luck, baby. Love you <3

[14:16] dr bang: Are you at the studio yet?

after finishing his latest stint in the library, chan checks in with you on what might be the most important day of your career thus far.

[14:17] Baby: thank yoooooou love you toooo xxxxx

[14:17] Baby: and nope

[14:18] Baby: this is just for the commission! only the consultation has to be at miroh

[14:18] dr. bang: Right right

he was catching on, slowly but surely. yes, your career is a lot different than his, but it made sense in similar ways. his decision to be a public surgeon versus private wouldn’t afford him the privileges of private practice, but he could change his mind later, with time and experience. kind of like you and the studio. until now, you have only ever had basic text walk-ins or flash bookings, the studio deciding your time was yet to come for larger pieces. not this time though. this time you had been personally commissioned and booked, a grand first.a first that called for nerves and celebration.

[14:18] dr bang: How do you feel? Ready?

[14:18] Baby: kinda…

[14:18] Baby: but can you tell me what you think? honestly?

[14:19] Baby: sent one attachment

[14:19] Baby: i call it ‘soondoongdori’

chan stops in place as he opens the picture. it’s an outline for a piece of a three headed cat. he lets people walk around him as he takes it in, eyeing the thin lines that make up the body, the inky blotches that fill each iris, and mark each head, each paw. there is personality to each head. one stares upwards, paw raised as if reaching for something, a toy maybe? whatever it is, it doesn’t interest the second head which licks at the ear of the third and last head, with its slightly hooded eyes and a lolling head, clearly seconds from slumber. chan is always enthralled by how easily you bridge the gap between myth and reality, how you marry the two, blur them almost. he’s speechless.

[14:21] dr bang: Honestly?

[14:21] Baby: please

[14:21] dr bang: It’s perfect, baby

[14:21] dr bang: Kind of makes me want one

[14:22] Baby: really?

[14:22] Baby: like ‘on you for life’ perfect?

[14:23] dr bang: I mean, not me personally

[14:23] dr bang: But if I loved cats then definitely!

[14:23] Baby: aw thank you channieeeeee

[14:23] Baby: let’s hope this dumbass agrees

[14:24] Baby: sent one attachment

chan is seconds from the bus stop when he stops again, ignoring the passing shuttle to his dorm for two reasons.

the first being he knows where you are, he must have walked right past you just minutes ago. you’re just by the lake, which bends and winds around the perimeter of clé. secondly, he knows that face. scowling like usual, though there’s a slight upturn to his lips, something chan thinks only you can draw out of him. he’s concentrating on a piece of parchment, thin enough for chan to recognise the inversed image of the drawing you had just sent him. whay has him turning back is the dots he is finally connecting.

[14:25] dr bang: It’s for Minho?

he doesn’t get a response before he arrives, his arrival silently announced to you by your best friend’s vanishing smile and hardening brow.

“hey.”

“hi,” you grin, holding his cheek when he leans down to kiss you. “what are you doing here?”

“uh, i was just leaving the library, thought i’d say hi.”

“huh,” minho muses. “coulda sworn the library was that way-”

zoning minho out, you pull chan down, filling him in on the last eight minutes. “so you know how the studio keeps saying i’m not ready but if someone comes in asking for me direct, they can’t really say no?” chan can’t figure out why his throat tightens, or why bile rises at the thought that your growing smile is in no way linked to him but to the still scowling man sitting opposite you. “so.. minjo said he’d be my first proper tattoo!”

it’s jealous and imposing. it’s unfair.

“that’s great.”

chan can’t help but be excited for you, this is a big deal. what he can help is the glare he gives an unflinching Minho when the latter rises from the ground to prematurely end this waste of his time.

“i told you we didn’t need this, i knew you’d do great.” stretching with a groan, minho turns to you. “you know who’s who. just colour ‘em in and we’re set.” with a quick kiss to your cheek and a quick nod at chan, he’s gone.

chan never once thought himself to be jealous man. he seldom craved attention, though when he did, it was yours, and nine times out of ten you readily awarded it to him. and yet, as he rises from the dried marsh, reaching down to help you stand, he realises your attention is elsewhere. it’s on work, your first booking. on minho. because minho would be your first proper tattoo. and suddenly he knows what he must do.

“you hungry?” chan asks, looking for a way to quell the lingering bitterness in his chest. “my treat.”

he needs to beat that booking.

“i-i want to talk to you something.” chan murmurs randomly, breath catching as you mouth your way up his neck, your hum reverberating up his throat. “it’s about tomorrow.”

“we’ll sleep after this-”

“no, it’s not that-” though it should be. it’s nearing midnight and minho’s booking is at eleven. but you agreed to meet for breakfast before, to calm both your nerves. “it’s about the booking.”

“what about it?” you ask, letting your teeth graze his adam’s apple when he gulps, your head rising. “are you okay?”

no. “yeah, i’m fine.”

“okay?” sitting in his lap, you watch him rise, holding your thighs as you straddle him. “what’s up?”

“i-” with a shaky breath, chan looks away from you, his eyes scanning your busy room. “i’m upset.” when you frown, he backtracks immediately. “not.. upset upset. just-”

“just..?”

“just-” squeezing your thighs, he takes a deep breath. “i haven’t been honest with you.”

your frown only deepens as you scan your recent memories. “about.. the booking?” he nods. “what? you didn’t like the cats?”

“no! no, they’re great!” he rushes, assuring you with gentle strokes up and down your thighs. “it’s not that. ah, it’s dumb.”

“you’re not dumb.” you laugh, pinching his cheek. “take your time, i’m not going anywhere.”

chan frowns at that, because that’s the problem.

you might. or at least it feels that way.

running head first into his dorm’s glass door, in a daze as he spotted you running down the steps. he could’ve sworn he dreamt it, your blurry face crouched over him, a flurry of apologies spilling from your worried lips. when you took him to his room, promising to stay until he felt better, he swore you’d vanish as quickly as you’d appeared. when you and chan first started seeing each other, he swore it was a fluke. it has been an unspoken concern of his that had your lives never aligned that way, he’d have spent his entire academic career face planting books instead, before studying, then working his life away.

you were like the wind. you fit yourself perfectly into the mess he called his life. with no friends besides those he lived with, thankful they saw his busy schedule as something to admire rather than resent. he feared you’d do the same, find something to pick at, a way to demand time he couldn’t give you. but you weren’t like that. if anything, you were more inspired than deterred, more worried for him than his lack of time for you. and all it did was make him want to give you more. be more. be everything you needed him to be, even without asking him to be.

because yes, chan was jealous. but now he’s insecure.

to make a long story short, chan did not in fact beat minho’s booking.

between sweet assurance from felix, a short lecture from seungmin and a lot teasing from changbin, chan was nowhere near sure what to do, how to feel or why he even felt this way. you’d never once made him feel like he was lacking, unfulfilling. but after some introspection, he thinks he knows why.

all your memories are tied to the unlikely pair you call your best friends. jisung wrapped around all of your funniest, minho around your most monumental. chan has you tied to a majority of his biggest firsts. his first kiss, first time, first girlfriend. but in return, he has nothing. and he wants something. something meaningful, something that, if this were ever to end, you would both remember fondly, forever.

so maybe it isn’t envy, or insecurity. maybe it’s possessive.

maybe it’s all three.

“i don’t want you to tattoo minho.”

there’s a short pause where you watch him, frowning at his unreadable face. with a nod, you acknowledge it with a simple- “okay..” unsure how to proceed. “because.. you don’t think i’m ready?”

“no.” it’s firm. which he’s thankful for as your frown softens. but your confusion lingers.

“okay.” you repeat with a nod, resting your palms on his shoulders before squeezing, massaging them. “then.. why?”

you see a hint of your chan behind his eyes. funnily, it’s when they look away from you. it vanishes when he admits- “because i want one first.”

the beginnings of a laugh rumble through you before you see him glare, absent of all playfulness. if you didn’t know chan better, you’d think he was pouting. “chan, you’ve never wanted one before.”

“well, now i do.” he mumbles with a pout. hm, you think. maybe you don’t know chan.

“what brought this on?” you ask, stroking up the sides of his neck, smiling as he leans into your touch. “is it because minho’s getting one?”

you think nothing of the question when you say it, assuming the interest came from curiosity before he nods, his blush creeping up his neck, warming your palms.

with a tilt of your head, you give him an unintentionally hard, but understandably confused scowl. “so you do want one because you want one.. or because minho’s getting one?”

“because it’s you.”

“because it’s me?” a few seconds pass in silence as you mull over his words, eyes scanning his face before you see it. gazing up at you with a hint of longing, a sprinkle of wonder, of hope, it suddenly clicks. his fingers digging to your thighs, his shining eyes, he's clinginess. you try for the life of you, but you can’t bite back the smile and laughter that erupts from you. “you want to be my first tattoo.. because it’s me?”

he nods simply, resting his burning face in your neck.

“because you’re mine.”

“of course i’m yours,” you whisper, scratching along his scalp. “is that what’s got you all upset?”

chan shrugs, snuggling closer to you. “just don’t want you to forget.”

“how could i forget that?”

“i’m always busy,” he sighs, a slight shake as he struggles with his own reasoning. “i’m just gonna get busier. you might get bored.. might forget about me.”

“hey.” he doesn’t come up without effort, your hands on his cheeks guide his face to yours. “hey, listen to me. i knew what i was getting into, chan. i knew it would get hectic, and i’m not going anywhere. okay?” he nods, when you scold- “babe.”

“okay.” he whines, fending off a smile.

“okay.” you repeat, resting your forehead on his. “i love you. i’m yours. i’m not going anywhere.”

“okay.” he giggles when you do, letting his hands tug you further up his lap. “i love you too.”

“yeah?” you calm when he nods, gripping your hips. “can i get a kiss, then?”

feigning reluctance, he yields in seconds, pressing his lips to yours, gasping when you holding him to you, letting your teeth nibble at his pout. “you said a kiss.”

“can i have another?”

“you need to sleep.”

“you’re one to talk.”

“y/n.” you laugh at his attempt to be stern, his pout curving in a frown. “one more.”

it isn’t one more.

[12:13] dr bang:

[12:13] Baby: hey channie

[12:13] Baby: tell me the truth

[12:13] Baby: are you busy?

[13:02] dr bang: Sorry, just left lab

[13:03] dr bang: Everything going okay?

[13:10] Baby: kind of?

[13:12] Baby: could you come to the studio, i need you

catching the first bus headed downtown, chan arrives outside the tattoo studio on record time. walking in, he stops at the receptionist before they ask- “chan?”

“uh- yeah?”

“go on in. she shouldn’t be hard to find-” a shrill scream cuts them off, an unsurprised look on their face. “follow the screams.”

you’re only a few feet away, your temporary station the only one set up this afternoon. chan almost calls for you when he catches sight of you, but stops. it’s a sight. your black sweatshirt bunched at your elbows, sleeves rolled up, arms covered in fine line work. your hair back, he can make out the crease between your brows, how you worry your lip, your eyes stuck to the tattoo gun you drag down the tender skin of your best friend’s calf. your best friend, who screeches as soon as the needle scratches the surface of his skin. you quickly stop, assuring him- “he’ll be in a sec, just wait- oh my god! hi!”

when you run up to him, throwing your arms around him as not to contaminate your hands, you squeeze him as best you can.

“thank you so much, chan! i swear i won’t keep you long.”

“hey, don’t worry about that, i’m done for the day.”

“are you sure?” when he nods, you exhale. “thank god. hear that minho? chan’s here to hold your hand!”

“what?” ignoring them both you skip back to your station.

“yeah,” you beam. “jisung was meant to come but he has a report due tomorrow he forgot about. so i just called who i would want here.”

“me?” when you nod, he matches your grin, unperturbed by minho’s groan. with a sigh, chan eyes minho before holding his out, palm up- “come on mate, let’s get this over with.”

“i don’t need to hold your hand.”

“ready, ho?” before the needle even touches his skin, minho latches onto chan’s extended hand, squeezing hard as he muffles his scream. “that’s what i thought.”

hours pass like this, four and a half to be exact. chan’s hand slowly losing feeling before succumbing to the inevitable that he would have to end his career before it ever began. in the time though, he found himself, maybe not growing closer but at least building rapport with your elusive best friend. minho wanted to be a dancer, and chan knew as much, but he also loved cooking, which chan didn’t know. chan does however leave without finding out how his major in mechanics plays a role in all of that. minho was head over heels in love with jisung, anyone with eyes knew that, apparently chan did not. this knews does nothing to lessen his earlier resentment for the man, it just makes him a bit soft knowing the seemingly apathetic man had a soft spot in the shape of han jisung. you and minho were best friends, chan knew this. minho only agreed to this because he wanted to help you out. chan now knew this. you did not.

chan thinks this is what completely quashes most if not all resentment he had for your best friend.

“she kept moping,” minho confessed between gritted teeth, his voice just quiet enough for the gun’s buzzing to drown him out. “i was sick of it.”

when silence followed, chan thought it only fair to share something himself. “i was jealous you got to be her first tattoo.”

even with a clenched jaw, chan sees minho’s surprise.

“not anymore though,” chan assures, with a soft smile at your concentrated face, eyeing you hard at work. minho thinks he understands. they’re just two people who care about the same person. and while minho has more monumental memories with you. slowly, chan with tie himself into his own. “and you scare me a bit, but we’ll always have this moment.”

“what?” minho scoffs. “brought together by the power of friendship?”

“no,” chan laughs. “you cried like a bitch until i got here.”

“true,” minho huffs, punctuating this with a squeeze of chan’s dead hand. “i guess i should say thank you.”

“you don’t have to-”

“i wasn’t going to.”

“cool.”

after a long six hours, you’re done. minho near enough drenched in his own sweat, chan’s hand clinging onto feeling for dear life, and your first ever full piece done, you start packing up. you both say goodbye to minho after you walk him through the aftercare for the hundredth time. chan watches you silently, his brows furrowing when you begin to set up again before looking up at him. “come here.”

“look,” he gulps, wondering how best to phrase it. “i know what i said yesterday-”

“chan, relax. i’m not giving you a tattoo.”

“oh.” you glare when he has the audacity to be offended. “then what’s all this?”

“i was thinking about last night,” you start, reaching for your bag and pulling out your purse. “and what you said.” digging around, you pull out a little torn piece of paper. “i took this when after star wars.”

“i thought i lost that,” he says with a smile, eyeing the slightly crumpled piece of paper. “why’d you take it?”

“because,” you shrug. “i thought maybe one day i could ask you if i could tattoo this..” you say, before pointing at the space between his name and yours, at a little scribbled heart. “on me?”

“really?” when you nod, he wonders aloud- “but, why?”

“well, you drew it.” you say like it’s the most obvious thing. “and it was the day you said you loved me.” you remind, though he didn’t need it. it’s why he kept the scrap of paper, kind of heartbroken to find he’d lost it. “and because..

“because i’m yours.”

chan nods when he realises how wrong he has been. he thought he had wanted something meaningful, something that, if this were ever to end, you would both remember it fondly, forever. but somewhere along the way, chan forgot that you cling to the little things too. that, yes, jisung was wrapped around all of your funniest memories, minho around your most monumental. but chan had something too.

he was intertwined with the most monumental now too. chan made every small, seemingly insignificant moment in between mean something. chan made every moment meaningful, just by being with you, showing up for you.

“only if you give me one too.” he decides, rolling up his own sleeve, grinning when you frown. “i couldn’t let you do it by yourself.” adding when you smile-

“and because i’m yours.”

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz smut #jisungparker #i like bang chan a lot..#a LOT

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