#this is probably still not the finished piece as i cant decide how to color the background for an hour now

[grzybjek]

No human should ever have this much power in their hands

Im not any different

Let me go

[ghostlymallow]

I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!!!!!!! (about three months late lmao)

I'll probably keep my ramblings short today because my brain's fried. (mostly burnout from school, but also I'm still processing the Rolling With Difficulty finale)

Decided to play around with some photomanipulation techniques I've been experimenting with. I swallowed my pride and finally downloaded photoshop since Krita's photomanipulation tools were acting funky (and that's not what Krita's designed to to anyhow)

I wanted to push the exaggerated nature of the pose in the shapes of the body, idk how successful I was. But I did play with simplifying the candles with good ole poly-lasso tool, which was nice.

I also decided to push the "camera" even more, using a canted angle on top of the super distorted pose. I played around with warping the bg into a fisheye effect, but that wasn't super successful. I think I'd have to plan that out more concretely if I really wanted it.

I also used a different approach to colour: blocking in values in greyscale then using a gradient map and some masking layers to throw some color back in. It's still super desaturated, but I think I'm satisfied with it, I think it fits with the mood of the piece.

I feel like there are still things I could "fix" with it. But I don't want this sitting in my to-dos for another three months lol. And for the most part, I am satisfied and happy with the photobashed effects, the smoke and mirrors are doing what I want them to.

If you're still reading this, go read Rodney R. Rodney! It's a delightfully charming and just plain fun comic, that is more than worth your time!

Go read that instead of listening to me rambling about lens choices or whatever nonsense I'm going on about (this is a loving jab at myself, and also you. why are you still here?).

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twelve

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: this took so long bc ive been reading chain of iron and in general agonizing over things i cant control instead of being productive 🥴 that being said, absolutely none of the events in this chapter were planned in my outline, but here we are with something new!

***

December brings more snow and bone chilling weather, to the point where Cassian has to drag Nesta out of bed, either physically or by phone call, to get her to therapy appointments on time. 

She’s in the waiting room one freezing morning when, in her utter boredom, she musters up the nerve to turn to the girl sitting next to her. “What are you in here for?”

The girl blinks her large blue eyes, taking notice of Nesta for the first time. Nesta uses the opportunity to take in her freckle-painted face, a little wan but beautiful. Reddish brown hair hangs around her face and shoulders, creating a thick curtain from the rest of the world, and Nesta’s curiosity piques like she’s just found a shiny new toy.

It probably isn’t right to compare people to toys, but then the girl says, “This isn’t prison, you know.” Her voice is deep, almost sultry— completely at odds from her huddled-in posture and sickened expression. “I didn’t commit a crime to have to be here.”

Is she insulted by Nesta’s question, or is she poking a joke? Nesta decides to play it safe by murmuring, “Sorry, never mind.”

She starts to turn away when the girl says, “We’re trying a new type of trauma therapy today. I had to get here half an hour early because I couldn’t swallow my nerves.”

Nesta might lack many social skills, but she isn’t stupid enough to ask what kind of trauma the girl is being treated for. Instead, she nods casually as if she understands the struggle. “I’ve been coming here for weeks now and I’ve barely discussed shit. That’s mostly on me, but you know…” She actually doesn’t know where she’s going with her train of thought. “It sounds brave to do whatever you're doing,” she states finally. “I don’t think I’ll be able to open up that much about myself, ever.” 

The girl gives Nesta a weird look that she immediately recognizes. Nesta uses it every time she doesn’t know how to respond to someone who takes her by surprise.

The door to Lana’s office clicks open, and the woman herself pokes her head out with a plain smile. “Ready, Nesta?”

Nesta bites down on her frown. She has a feeling today won’t be as easy as her past sessions.

She’s about to leave without another glance at the girl beside her when that low voice speaks up. “I’m Gwyn.”

Nesta looks back at her as she gets up from her chair, and says the first reply that comes to mind: “Good to know.”

***

Nesta is contemplative hours after she gets back from her therapy session, bundled up in her bed with a coloring book. The repetitive motion of filling in the mandala drawing lets her mind wander, picking up and dropping different thoughts like she’s inspecting stones. 

She keeps her wrist light as she colors in with red. She finally said Tomas’s name in therapy today, though the action left a slimy feeling in Nesta’s stomach that lingers even now. She also spoke about her sisters, which somehow ended up leading to a discussion of her uterus. 

“How have you been dealing with the endometriosis news?”

Nesta shrugged. “I’m getting treated, and my last period was more bearable than usual—”

“I mean mentally, how are you doing? With how your condition could affect your future?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Affect me how?”

“Have you never considered the impact it could have on your ability to bear children?”

“Not everything in life is about bearing children, you know.”

“We’re humans. It’s definitely something to consider.”

“Not for me. I’ve never wanted kids.” A mistruth at best. “I don’t care what endo does or doesn’t do to me on those grounds.”

In a way, Nesta told herself, the health risks were actually for the best. If she ever did, by some stupid loss of sanity, try to have children, then her body would act as a safety net from her decisions.

Lana only said, “You’ll never know how much you care or don’t care until you talk out your feelings.”

“Then I guess we’ll never know.”

Nesta lets the memory of that conversation drop like a stone on a shore. That’s not something she has to face for a good long while. No, right now she has to face her past. 

Her sisters, and her ex, and even her father— 

I wonder if I came off too strong with Gwyn today. 

Her hand stops drawing, and she switches out her red marker for an orange one. This thought she doesn’t mind inspecting for a little longer: she and Gwyn ended up leaving their sessions at the same time, which meant they were forced into stilted conversation on the way down to the parking lot. 

Not forced, Nesta self-corrects. She willingly initiated a conversation, and it didn’t go terribly. She wonders if making friends in therapy waiting rooms is a real thing.

Her phone vibrates beside her, breaking her hours-long mental bubble. Blinking dazedly, she answers the phone call.

“How are you?” is the first thing Cassian says to her. He makes sure to ask her that at least twice a day, like a gauging of her temperature. It makes Nesta wonder what she’s ever done in her life to call for such… attention to her well-being. 

“I’m good,” she answers honestly. “My head’s a little loud right now, but I don’t mind it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No, I’d rather hear you talk.” She slumps back against her pillows, coloring book forgotten. “What’s up?”

“Ah...” Cassian sounds hesitant for the first time since their relationship started. “It’s just that I haven’t gotten my Christmas decorations up yet, and I was going to ask if you wanted to help.”

Nesta takes a moment to absorb his words. “It’s December fifth,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“You just seem like somebody who does their decorations the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Well, this year is a little different, with you moving out and being busy with school…” He pauses. “I was waiting to do it with you.”

When she doesn’t reply, Cassian adds, “I don’t even know if you care about Christmas. I know you and your family sort of ignored holidays. It’s fine if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll be over right now,” Nesta blurts. 

Half an hour later, Cassian swings open his door with a smug grin on his face; a vast difference from the stammering hesitance he displayed over the phone earlier. Nesta’s own lips want to pull up into a smile just at the sight of him, but she holds back and narrows her eyes instead. “What’s got you so worked up?” she questions as she steps into the warmth of the cabin and out of the freezing cold.

“The way you ran over here as soon as I asked.” He looks her up and down, still amused. “You didn’t even bother to change, did you?”

It’s true: she’s in the same sweatpants and long sleeved tee she wore around home, and her socked feet are shoved into slippers. 

“Get that smirk off your face.” Nesta flicks his nose before tossing her coat off. “If this is a competition about who’s got a bigger puppy-crush for whom, you already won when you delayed putting up your Christmas decorations for me.”

“Fair enough,” he grins. The words send an unexpected pang through Nesta, because it’s partly true, isn’t it? He cares more openly for her than she does for him. 

She looks away in guilt, not knowing how to fix the imbalance. Her eyes land on the living room coffee table, where their half-finished jigsaw puzzle sits. It’s been stored under the couch for the past few weeks, forgotten by Nesta and Cassian alike as they moved on with their lives, but now it’s sitting out again.

“Have you been working on the puzzle without me?” She raises an inquisitive brow, about to feel— hurt.

“Never,” Cassian promises, saving her from that irrational hurt. “I just brought it out because I figured we should get to finishing it one day.”

She pads over to the table, picking up a puzzle piece and turning it over in her hand. “I don’t know if you remember, but we had a terrible time working on this,” she scoffs lightly.

“Oh, I remember,” he says, coming up behind her and stealing the piece from her grasp. “I think it’s safe to say those evenings were the worst fights we’ll ever have together.”

Nesta leans back against Cassian’s chest and hums. “It made us a stronger couple, don’t you think?” She turns her head up and back to meet Cassian’s eyes, finding that he’s already looking down at her.

Hypnotized, she leans into his warmth. She only manages to land the smallest kiss against his lips when his hand squeezes her ass cheek. “You’re here for a job, remember?” He taps her butt before pulling away, gesturing to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living area with his chin. It stands bare. “You do tinsel, I’ll do lights.”

Tinsel is harder to work with than Nesta remembers. She only manages to get half the tree done before plopping onto the Persian rug, exhausted and covered in silvery material. She doesn’t mind laying there while Cassian continues working; it’s her revenge for when he napped on her bed while she moved in.

“You know the stair railings still need to be wreathed, Archeron.”

Nesta declines to respond, tilting her head on the carpet for a better view of her boyfriend’s ass instead. “All this decorating,” she starts. “Is it just for you?”

Cassian turns to her, surprised. “Well…”

She pushes up onto her elbows, catching her mistake. “Are we doing Christmas together? Or are your friends coming over?” She hasn’t bothered to celebrate Christmas in years now, and she doesn’t care much what Cassian’s plans are either way.

“I was hoping for both?” He sounds hesitant. “Christmas Eve is all the way over in Velaris, but I was thinking we could go together, open some presents, and come back and spend Christmas here.”

Nesta purses her lips. She doesn’t actually hate that plan. Both Feyre and Elain have been pestering her with the annual texts asking her to visit for Christmas, and for once, she feels like responding to them. The invitation is more of a formality than an actual request at this point; she doubts her sisters want her there after years of rejections, but… what’s the harm?

“Is that a yes?” Cassian asks at her unreadable face.

“Yes,” she states unflinchingly. She refuses to overthink the possible consequences of this choice and chooses to focus on the broad grin overtaking Cassian’s face. “Really?” he says.

“But there has to be rules.” Nesta sits up fully now. “No one can know we’re together, no matter how much you trust or love them.”

“We already agreed to that, baby.”

Yes, but Nesta knows the secret weighs on him heavier than he shows— even if he agrees with her that it's for the best. “It’ll be different when we’re together in the same room as everyone else,” she says. Cassian wears his beating heart on his sleeve, and she doesn’t think he’s ever had to hide it before.

“You’ll also be different,” she adds. “It’s a huge change of pace.”

Cassian drops the remaining strand of lights and smiles confusedly down at her. “What do you mean, I’ll be different?” He sits across from her, before the blazing fire. 

“You know how you get around your friends.” Nesta shrugs without a thought. “Like your personality readjusts to mirror the people around you. I used to find it a mix of sad and adorable, like a neglected puppy desperate for love, but now I— okay, I still feel the same way.” She waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.

By the look on Cassian’s face, he does not find her words so easily dismissed. 

Coldness curdles in the pit of Nesta’s stomach, the realization that she’s said something wrong. She can’t fix it until she knows where she fucked up, though.

“Is that what you think of me?” Cassian finally says lowly. His usually expressive mouth is drawn tight and narrow. 

“Um… What would you rather I think of you?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Seriously, Nesta?”

Nesta’s back stiffens, refusing to cower. “I only described what I’ve observed in the past.”

“And what you observed was a desperate puppy?” His voice is cold in a way she’s never heard before.

Okay, she’s starting to see how that might be offensive. She forges onward, “Tell me what you think about yourself in the presence of your family, then.” It’s a private victory that she says family instead of clown circus. But she’s not trying to turn this into a fight.

Cassian is silent, but his stare continues to rage at her.

“Tell me,” Nesta repeats.

His hands curl into fists on the rug. “I think I’m empathetic, easy to talk to, and easier to be around. Is it a problem if I’m likable?” Unlike you are the unsaid words.

Nesta inspects the space between them like it’s a chessboard. “And what part of yourself are you giving up to be so likable, Cassian?” she says quietly.

“Nothing.”

Nesta disagrees, if only because she’s been watching him out of the corner of her eye for years. “I think you base your personality off of those you love, and you lose a little bit of your true self every time you put others’ needs before your own.” 

She shuts her mouth, not having expected such honesty to come out of it. Cassian is taken aback, too, she can tell.

“And I guess it’s natural that you’d see all of that as a bad thing, considering your history of being closed off and self-serving to a fault,” he fires back with the flatness Nesta utilizes so often.

One for one. Fair enough. “We’re both right then,” Nesta says. “You work for your best friend because you have no ambition beyond serving your family, and I have no such family because I can’t bring myself to care about those things. Are we even now?”

Cassian furrows his brows, those defensive walls melting away as he realizes she’s completely serious. “What? No, Nes—” He shakes his head. “Okay, so maybe you’re right about me. Maybe I agree with you a little bit, but… If we see flaws in each other, then we should be working to overcome them instead of weaponizing them.”

Now Nesta’s the one shaking her head, quickly lifting a hand to stop him. “Relax there, sweetheart. I have no expectations from you or myself to go on some self-improvement journey now that we’re together. Talking about my feelings with a professional every week is hard enough.” Yes, agreeing to go to Feyre’s Christmas party is improvement. Slow, barely there improvement, but enough to wear her out for the rest of the month. For Nesta to fully let people into her life, to treat them as lovingly as she treats Cassian— that’s a long way away. She can’t envision it, doesn’t even know if she wants it.

Cassian must understand some of what she’s thinking, because he nods and backs off. He gets back up and returns to stringing lights, tossing a handful of tinsel at Nesta as if to say Get back to work. 

She stands and obeys, thinking their not-argument is officially over when Cassian says, “You’re wrong about one thing.”

She looks up from where she threads tinsel through fir leaves. He doesn’t take his eyes off his work as he says, “You do have a family. And deep, deep down, you care about them as much as I care about mine.”

***

Nesta catches Emerie’s eye as the dark-haired beauty walks into the pub. Raising a hand and waving, she gestures Emerie over to the booth she’s sitting in. 

“Look what I found,” Nesta says with a hint of pride, pointing to the redhead sitting beside her. “A third girl for girl’s night!”

“I was kidnapped,” Gwyn speaks up. “Jumped on the way to my car.” She’s out of her usual hoodie and in a tight-fitting blouse, looking stunning even while seeming out of place in the dim bar.

“She came here consensually,” Nesta retorts. “Emerie, this is Gwyn. We met at therapy.”

Gwyn offers Emerie an awkward smile.

Emerie slides into the booth across from them with raised brows. She looks between Nesta and the new girl and back again. “You invited her here? All by yourself?” she asks.

Nesta nods firmly.

Emerie breaks into a wide grin and reaches over the table to grab Nesta’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!” If Emerie were anyone else, she’d be squealing in excitement, but Emerie does not squeal.

Nesta waves off her friend’s praise, though a part of her wants to beam at it, too.

Gwyn glances between the two of them with slight amusement. “I mean, it’s not that impressive,” she says. “She came on a bit too strong, probably a five out of ten on the asking-someone-out scale.”

“‘A bit too strong’ is all you’re gonna get with Nesta,” Emerie says, lifting her hand to order drinks. “She’s all-or-nothing, and most people would pray she doesn’t give them her nothing.”

Nesta doesn’t know if that’s a compliment, but she supposes there are worse things that could be said about her.

“So, Gwyn, what do you do?” Emerie leans forward. “All our friends are law students and it’s starting to get boring.”

Gwyn goes off about her librarian job as Nesta orders their drinks, and Emerie rests her chin in her hand and listens eagerly. Christmas music plays softly in the background and snow flurries gently outside. Nesta thinks she can’t be doing that bad in life, if she’s managed to carve out this little slice of happiness for herself.

***

a/n: i promise shit actually happens next chapter! we're getting christmas with nessian and the ic in the same room for the first time

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson

[choiwrites]

kth | wolfgirl (m.)

Words: 10k  Genre: twlight!au, it’s new moon but taetae as jacob, ur bella but you have a personality :o, oh also smut and a little angst Warnings: no protection and no fcks given, language ig?, descriptive seggs lol, vampires and all that bs if that triggers sum of yall, oral (f receiving), tae is younger than u and kind of a sub (dom tae is overdone we need change in this country) i cant think no more no thots hed mt Rating: 18+ Song: Iron & Wine - Flightless Bird, American Mouth Summary:  During your stay at your Aunt's house in the wet town of Forks, you never thought the boys next door will change your perspective in how you see the world.

The weather in Washington was something you’re not used to. You can never go places without getting mud on your shoes and it takes more than your patience to clean them every time before going out. Sure, it was great to experience a different weather other than the blazing sun in Los Angeles, but it was hard to adjust. You weren’t ready for it with all the sleeveless and loose tops you brought from Los Angeles.

After months of debating with your mom, you decided it would be a great way to spend your summer vacation turning your camera focus into something more dark and cloudy. Your professor had also suggested that it would look good in your portfolio if you try different moods in photos other than the hot weather in Angeles. So, you thought about it for months before asking your mom to buy you tickets to see your Aunt Sylvia who you're currently living with for the meantime.

She was in her mid-thirties, but she looked younger than her real age. She knew how to groom and with the way she looks, she probably had that life during her high school days. You rarely see her though, you can remember all the conversations you both had. She leaves home early for her duty at the police station as an attending desk officer. Her place wasn't big, an average suburban house painted in cold tones of white and gray with dark furniture inside. It's not your typical definition of cozy. Good thing you brought your two sweaters — one with a Christmas tree embroidered on it and one with the phrase "'tis the season!" Wearing a sweater in Los Angeles only means one thing, and that is the season of giving. But who cares, it's not like anyone was going to notice, right?

About to finish the second cup of black tea, an idea pops into your mind about what Sylvia had said about the landscapes nearby the house. However, she had warned you about the risks of a few wild coyote appearances, but one could call you a junkie. There’s no fun in danger, but dangerous does rhyme with adventurous.

A cool whip of breeze enters the thin fabric of your sweater, immediately regretting stepping out of the doorstep after locking the door. As you are approaching the back of the house to enter the woods, young laughters echo through the area, lessening your fear for a bit. It must be safe if a group of teenagers are hanging out in such a secluded forest.

Unbothered by the noises, whether they were from teenagers or not, you make your way further into the woods of coppery branches on the endless verdant ground with subtle eau de nils. It’s like walking into a surreal three-dimensional render of a forest, too perfect to be right in front of your eyes.

It was quiet and serene in the woods. Aside from birds chirping, it felt like out of this world. It was an alien planet. Everything was green — the moss surrounding the place, every tree had some sort of fungi beneath it, the soil dark brown as if staring right into the earth’s eyes. The very healthy kind of earthy, and it was easier to breathe in the forest than it was in the city of Los Angeles. No wonder why they're both on the opposite sides of the country. They're literally poles apart. Being at Forks, it's as if you were able to be in a different country. It was secluded, unlike in Angeles, there are people in every place you go.

While changing the film of the camera, a strong gust of wind on your left side. So strong that your body stumbled onto the ground. You were on your knees, camera shattered as it hits a hard medium-sized rock. You break a couple of curses to the wind.

The camera looked hopeless with lenses separated from it, lying in pieces against a rock.

"What the hell was that?" 

There had to be some kind of a fast animal that ran from your side, which quickens your pulse, but the devastation you felt for the camera overthrew that fear. When you caught a glimpse of the 'wind,' it was human-like. It ran around in every direction surrounding you,  freezing you into place. The only thing you were able to do was to keep watching the human-like creature run in circles like lightning. You tried standing up, but it approached you in a rapid current that you fell into place again. But you couldn't see it, you weren't able to look into its eyes.

"You shouldn't be out here alone,” behind you says.

You whimper, embarrassed when the deep voice sends hums into your nerves.. 

"Why didn't you run?" He looks at you with knitted brows as he approaches to help you get on your feet. He’s far too attractive to be a wild coyote, you slap that stupid thought away.

"I... I didn't know what to do,” you force out, still affected by the broken camera and creeping fear.

He was around four inches taller than you. He looked about your age. Dark thick hair, with light brown irides inside his almond-shaped eyes. His skin was of a rich walnut tan, and his dark green hoodie complements that. 

"You must be Sylvia's niece. I'm Taehyung,” he said in a sultry manner as he offered a hand for a handshake.

"How do you kno-"

"She told us. My family's close with Sylvia. Our mothers used to be best friends, y/n." He puts his hand back in the pocket of his hoodie.

A tinge of embarrassment brushes through your cheeks, feeling guilty that you didn't give him a handshake. But all of that is ignored when he smiles.

"Did I creep you out?"

You chuckle softly. "No, of course not. I'm just still in the moment... of processing." You ease him, as if you were able to read the tension in his undecipherable eyes.

There was a few seconds of silence before Taehyung spoke again when he noticed your camera on the ground.

"Hey, we have a technician at home, maybe he has some tools he could help you with."

He was absolutely gorgeous. You find yourself lost in his face, studying his features and every little action he does. He would look so good as a muse. If only you could capture him right now, he'd be perfect under the clouds that create shadows that contour his cheeks and makes his eyes even more mysterious.

"Don't worry, you can trust me. Sylvia knows where I live,” he adds. 

Though that doesn't really solve the problem, you find yourself walking with Taehyung in the woods, drifting away from the devastation and fear from earlier. 

The laughters were from them. The laughs you heard earlier before entering the woods were from Taehyung's friends. They confirmed that they were walking around the woods earlier and that they passed by your house. All looking friendly with similar doe eyes, almost like they were relatives. They were all in a circle, all of them sitting on a chunk of thick logs, dressed in a similar way. The men were younger than you, but there is a girl who's older than you. She didn't seem as friendly as the others as you notice the judging glances towards your way. She had shoulder length of hair and she was just as tan as Taehyung. Taehyung discussed each of them one by one to you, all of them introducing themselves in an endearing manner except for her. Only saying her name was Leah and that was it, which made you feel an ounce of intimidation.

"So, y/n, how long do you plan to stay?" Embry, the one with the shortest hair, asks as he plays with the two twigs he'd been digging up dirt with the moment you arrived. His color was a tad bit darker than the others. He had a grin that could steal every girl's heart. He was gorgeous. They were all just as gorgeous as Taehyung.

"Oh, one month. I have a college application to fix back home,” you answered surely. You were only here to take photos for your college portfolio, and making friends was out of the picture until today.

"Sucks for Tae, I had a feeling you could be more than a willing candidate to be his girlfriend." Everybody laughed except for you and Tae who exchanged awkward glances at each other.

"Stop it, Bry." Taehyung wanted to laugh along but embarrassment got the best of him.

"She looks so out of place. You probably party a lot in Los Angeles, don't you?" Leah gives you a stern look, seriously waiting for your response. She only wants to get a reaction from you and you weren’t the only one to get the feeling as the group feels the rising tension between the both of you.

"No, I don't go to parties. Mom is very strict." You tell her. You didn't want the group to feel that you were intimidated, after all, you wanted to befriend everyone.

"She'd be perfect for our overnight tomorrow then." She prickly grins.

"Right! Want to join us in La Push? It's the nearest beach out here. We'll have bonfires and such," Seth, the youngest one with the tiniest body (still bigger than yours), expresses in excitement. Out of all of them, Seth was the friendliest. 

"I'll go talk to Sylvia for you, if you want." Taehyung raises his brows. He had been laughing quietly ever since he had brought you to meet his friends - which seems like he regrets, additionally. He was more mysterious than you thought. He didn't share much of his life during the discussion, only three things: his last name was Kim, he’s 20 years old, and he lives at the rez along with the rest of the team.

"Sure. I'll just bring my other camera." You smiled.

Taehyung said that he'll get Chase, a friend of his who wasn’t part of the circle, to fix the broken film camera. He assured that it will only be a matter of three days before the camera is all yours again. After a few more useless fun discussions, you had forgotten that the sun had settled for a while. When Taehyung realizes your face of worry, he offers to give you a ride home. Great, a ride with the wild coyote who had immediately earned your trust by rising a brow. You wouldn’t be so shocked if you end up ‘missing’ in the news in the next hours.

He owned a Chevy pick up truck. It was red, but faded, making it seem vermillion in color. It had a few dents and you were sure that it wasn't one of the smoothest rides you've ever had. But Taehyung made a few jokes about how he feels uneasy with the truck as well, only to reveal that it has been with him ever since his birth.

"It's great. Very retro." You gave him a smile to let him know that he doesn't need to feel embarrassed with his truck.

"Shut up, Y/N. I know it sucks, okay. I can't even play a single song here without a static." He laughs and you admit it.

He gave a charming wave to your window and had a small chat with Sylvia, who’s been home for hours, before leaving, probably about the La Push trip for tomorrow. Once you've changed into your pyjamas, Sylvia knocks on your door as you are about to settle in bed.

"Tae told me about the La Push camping tomorrow,” she began.

"Are you gonna let me?"

She smiles in an assuring way. You can't deny how lovely she looked with her hair down, her waves framing her heart-shaped face. "Of course, honey. You better wake up early tomorrow. Tae told me that he'll pick you up by seven." She winks and rubs your shoulder before heading downstairs.

A beach trip in a cloudy town without bringing any hoodies with you? Sounds about perfect, if you’re looking for a hypothermia attack. And you were never a morning person either so it’s a big mystery why you even agreed to go in the first place. The waking time in Los Angeles was ten in the morning. In Forks, it was seven. 

When Taehyung arrived, he was wearing a black shirt and a black leather jacket, pairing it with slightly oversized pants. He looked bigger than yesterday, maybe it was the jacket that made him look buff. He waved softly before you even stepped out of the doorway. He was carrying a medium-sized paper bag with small wet stains.

"My sister made us breakfast. Just in case you didn't have enough time to prepare," he opens the car door for you and waved to Sylvia goodbye, "thought you'd take more time because you probably wake up late in the city."

“I’m somehow a little offended with that assumption,” you cooed and he replied with a stammering laugh, unsure whether to take it as a joke or not.

He fumbled with the stereo and it played better than yesterday, giving you a sloppy smile as the first chords of Creep by Radiohead plays.

"You fixed it?" You take a bite from the sandwich his sister prepared. You thank God his sister prepared it for you, your stomach would be growling by now.

"Yeah. I just didn't want us to have that awkward silence along the way." He breathily laughs.

Everything Taehyung has is beautiful. He had an amazing laugh, a deep sultry voice, and doe eyes. He's simply astonishing. You were sure that everyone he has met so far had fallen in love with him. You weren't one to deny that either.

It took around fifteen songs before the both of you arrived at the beach — thanks to Taehyung's amazing playlist. It was quiet, the weather didn't change much in the place. Still cold and dark, untouched by a glimpse of sunrise. It was windier than the rest of Forks, and you wore your Christmas sweater to at least help with the cold a bit.

It was weird to say, but Taehyung radiated heat whenever you were near him. It's like when you're not around Taehyung, you feel the coldness of Forks. His truck didn't even feel cold though his air conditioning was on, you just felt a sense of unfamiliar comfortable heat you found yourself curling in your seat minutes ago. The group welcomed the both of you except for Leah of course. Sooner or later, you knew you'd start to hate her.

"You guys are early,” you tell Embry and Paul as they greet you with warm hugs.

"Of course, we are. It's La Push, baby." Embry gives you a wink and you blush.

"Okay, Bry, I haven't had my breakfast and you're already winking." Paul fake puked and the rest of the group laughs.

They started setting up tents as Taehyung offered to take your bag when he noticed how it's weighing you down. Before he could put it in the tent, you took your digital camera and started roaming around by yourself to take pictures of the view. Astounding as you had expected. It's like you were in the middle of nowhere. Only Taehyung's friends were at the beach which was a lucky shot for you and the group.

"Set up the fire, Tae! We're having breakfast." Leah yells across the place as she places the logs in the middle of the circle the tents are built in.

Taehyung sighs loudly. "Get ready for the Quileute Tribe stories." 

"You seem tired of it, you joked.

While Taehyung builds a fire with the rest of the boys, you secretly take pictures of him busy as the both of you keep talking.

"It's always the story every camping day. The Quileute Legends, you know? The scary stuff." 

You knit your brows when the word ‘scary’ comes into play, bringing your camera down to take a better look at the almost sweaty Taehyung.

"Scary stuff? How scary? Thrill me." You weren't aware as to how much Taehyung also studies your features. He wanted to know you better, but he was afraid of scaring you away by asking too many questions. It had always been his issue, scaring people away from him. And this time, he didn't want to let you in like the others, he just wanted to be acquaintances. But the more he spends time with you, the more he wants to be near you as if there were magnets pulling you together.

"I don't know what would thrill you, y/n. But the world is darker than you think, it's not always safe." He gives you a look. It was impossible. You were five feet away from him, but you could almost see your reflection in his eyes. It was too comforting. You were devoured by his eyes, falling steadily into his charms.

"I know. It's just as scary in L.A., I mean," you gulped, "crime is everywhere. Can't really stop it." You explained.

"It's not always crime that's scary, y/n. I'm talking unexplainable things." He smirks.

"Like paranormal?" You gaze away from him, starting to take pictures of the beach. But no matter how hard you try to distract yourself from Taehyung, your eyes keep falling on him.

"More than paranormal. Ghosts are easier to believe in."

You inhaled sharply. "I mean those are just legends, right? What's with the obsession in the Qui-Quileute Tribe?" You struggled pronouncing the word.

"It's not me. It's a tradition." There was a moment of silence before you could think of what to say again.

"Delete my pictures by the way." He scoffed.

"I thought you didn't notice."

"I was posing." 

You laugh at his joke, still certain you're never deleting any of his pictures, most definitely the one when he accidentally looked at the camera.

"You look sort of beautiful in the camera." Your lids flutter like a high school girl. “Not just in the camera, I mean… haha.”

He stares at you in confusion, and somehow you always find yourself frozen and embarrassed whenever he looks at you. "Sort of beautiful? You're more naive than I thought." He removes his jacket and throws it on the log nearby, revealing his buff body. You look away in discomfort, you didn't want to find yourself checking him out. "I'm not what you think I am. And I don't think you want to know."

"Maybe I do." You point the camera towards him and take a shot of his reaction. You wink.

The clouds hovering above the clamorous sea tell that there's probably rain coming, but it seems like the group wasn't bothered by it at all. You were sitting next to Taehyung two feet away from you on the logs nearby the fire that Seth had given up trying to help making after a couple of failed attempts. His heat never failed to linger around you though.

Sam was discussing the Quileute Legends and the group was very fascinated with the story, even though Taehyung had confirmed earlier that they've already heard the story too many times from their own families. Sam was good. He had a way in telling stories. You find yourself actually believing the legends. Werewolves and vampires? Shapeshifters and Children of the Moon? You weren't one to believe in such fantasies. You liked to watch historical movies more than fairytales, but with the way Sam elaborated every part of the legend, you can't deny the shiver that you felt when he discussed the cold ones.

Fast like lightning. Beautiful and alluring. Undead without a soul.

You thought it was ridiculous for Sam to even give out a warning about the cold ones. You were suppressing your laugh a little bit, and you were sure Leah already had her eyes on you. Why would Sam give out a warning about the cold ones? It's not like they were actually real. He also mentioned a treaty. And he sounded pretty serious about it too, even Taehyung was carefully listening. All of their eyes were on Sam, except for Leah.

Sam talked about a specific family of the cold ones, that they proposed a treaty. These cold ones are not allowed to hurt anybody from Forks, or else the mentioned werewolves are allowed to pose a fight with them. He talked about it like it was a plan.

It was afternoon and the clouds were still as thick as it was in the morning, but rays of sunlight shone through the gaps between the dark clouds. It looked ethereal, an aesthetic you'd only see in paintings. You thought those paintings are only manifestations of amplified emotions of the painter, but here you are, smiling to your camera as you take hundreds of shots.

"Save some memory for the other landscapes," Taehyung says beside you, throwing pebbles to the water, each bouncing impressively for three times.

"I know, I just can't get enough of this. You don't see that in L.A." You pointed your index finger towards the horizon of the sea.

"Yeah, but at least you can swim in LA. It's too cold out here to even go for a swim,” he emphasized.

"Not when you're around. It's weird, but I feel like you have a fever. You're too hot."

He raises his brows . "I know I'm hot," he chuckles.

"I didn't mean it like that,” you protest, though you know for a fact, Taehyung right. If he were to live in L.A., he'd be escorted many times by a modeling agency.

"So, I'm not hot?" You knew he was teasing and your embarrassment was obvious enough because of the blood rushing through your cheeks.

"You're attractive. I'm sure you know that." You roll your eyes, trying to keep everything casual — which is getting harder and harder every time he's around.

"No, I don't,” he teased. He was obviously getting pay back on you for taking candid shots of him earlier.

Your eyes landed on Sam and Emily play-fighting in the sea, just the sight of them being happy made you feel a bit of a heartache. You were a sucker for romance. The boys told you earlier that they were engaged for three months now. Leah was Sam's ex-girlfriend and Emily was Leah's ex-best friend. Finally putting the pieces together why Leah was one of the hardest to be with. She was extremely hurt and broken. She would rather shut the world out rather than let anybody in. She would rather be alone, than find anyone again who could possibly hurt her.

"Look," you poked Taehyung who was too busy throwing pebbles, "Sam and Emily are swimming. We should too!"

Though you were shivering, you bravely took off the mustard jacket that Taehyung had let you borrow. You were left with your thin brown tank top and denim shorts. He's still in his black shirt, unbothered to even take it off nor his jeans.

"What are you doing? Let's go." You tell him as you walk towards the sea.

This was a bad idea. It felt like ice was draping all over your body. How can Emily look like she's having fun when you're over here freezing just by stepping into the water? Half of your body was shivering from the wind, the lower half was for sure numb. You wanted to slap Taehyung for taking so long to get in with you, and you weren't even sure why you were so desperate for him to get in with you. It's not like he had a heater with him.

It took Taehyung a few more seconds before he started taking his shirt off, revealing his caramel skin, but it wasn't his color that caught your eyes, it was how built he is. His body looks like it was sculpted by the most talented and precise sculptor. It was defined, and shadows are doing magic in giving it silhouettes in the right areas. The best part about it was how shy he was taking off his clothes, like a teenager getting ready for his first swimming lesson.

He was for sure planning to swim today, revealing the gray trunks he’s wearing underneath his jeans. He needs a bigger one that fits him better, because the trunks he's wearing isn't doing him any justice.

Okay, no. Maybe it was justified by a subtle outline of his —

Don't even look down there, y/n, you tell yourself.

You didn't know where to focus. His thighs were just as eye-catching as his abs. Just as toned and thick. It would be such a material for thigh riding, you thought and you quickly shake your head at the idea. It has to be the waters that did this to you. Time has never been more relevant when he was walking towards your way, as he scoops water with his hands to wet his hair, while biting his bottom lip and giving you a small smile after.

"Freezing?" He smiles, eyes pierced on your small body. You were hugging yourself, embracing yourself from the fact that if you let go of your hands, you might touch something else.

"You were taking so long." 

He chuckles before holding your arm, taking it off your body. "Come on, dip your whole body." He pulls you softly towards the ocean, the sound of walking through water comforting your ears.

He was a foot away from you, the water level was on his chest and so was yours, but slightly higher. He looked even more godly. His hair pushed back, and to see his face in its entirety was a blessing, a gift.

None of you dared to talk, and you thought it was better that way. You just get to stare at him, as the sunlight lands itself upon his bronze eyes with specks of gold if you would close enough, majestic indeed to see something like that once in your life. You'd wish to wake up to that every morning.

There was this comfortable silence between the two of you. Drops of water fall under his eyelashes, fluttering them as he struggles to stare back at you. The moment was ruined when he suddenly smiled and looked towards Embry and Paul. Embry was sitting next to Paul, staring at the both of you while laughing. You shrug, feeling invaded.

"Why? What is it?" you asked Taehyung.

"They're thinking ridiculously."

 You furrow your forehead. "How do you know?" He tightens his hold around your arm as he keeps you steady near him, aware of you struggling to touch the floor.

"I just know," he softly plants circles on your arm with his thumb, "trust me."

"Maybe we shouldn't stand too close to each other then. I think they're making a big deal out of it." You didn't want to come off feisty, but you guessed it went that way for Taehyung as he moved away from you without letting you go.

"No, they're not. They're just teasing." When he said that, it was like he only said it to get near you, to assure you that it was okay to be close to him like that.

"Still cold?" he asked.

"Not so much anymore." You muttered. There were so many questions you wanted to ask Taehyung, but your voice isn't very trustworthy at the moment. You know it will betray you the moment you open your mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts? Why did you want to swim?" His voice was soft, calming as the ocean.

"I wanted to test how warm you can make me, even in freezing water."

He laughs breathily. "Seriously?"

You nod. He wanted to tell you a lot about himself, but like you, he was just as scared. Skinny dipping wasn't really your thing, especially in cold water, so after a few more moments of swimming and small talks with Taehyung, you let yourself dry by sitting next to the tent, keeping yourself busy by viewing all the pictures you took.

It was four in the afternoon, and the sun looked like it was already setting. Time was almost irrelevant at Forks, you wake up and the next thing you know, you're already getting ready for bed. Even though today was quite eventful, the clock still ticked quickly.

Feeling dry enough, you walked to the other side of the beach, Embry had mentioned that there was a cliff nearby along the woods. Though Taehyung was busy drying himself and laughing with the others, he glanced your way as you were heading towards the woods. You lifted your camera so he knew what your motive was, and he flashed a sly smile.

Trees. Cliffs. Birds.

The place could be a haven for the National Geographic Channel.

"I thought the pack wouldn't ever leave you alone like this." A deep voice spoke behind you, his english accent was thick and strong. You were sure that if you turn around, he’ll be ten feet away from you. You regret blinking your eyes, because the next thing you knew, he was right in front of you. His expression with so much thirst, so much hunger. For what?

You only inhaled sharply, first thing coming into your mind, confusion overpowering your nerves. You examined the man before you quickly. Olive skin, dark ruby eyes. His skin was inhumanly shiny, he almost looked dead, but in a mesmerizing type of way. He had dark purple circles, but his eyes were beautiful enough to distract you from it. He mirrored a cement under sunlight, he had fragments of diamonds and glitters on his skin. It wasn't your brain consuming you but his visual, his aura.

"Didn't bring your dog with you?" You weren't sure what he meant. He takes a step forward to lean into your ear, and your feet beg to stay, your eyes staring deeply in his beauty. You were too engaged, everything about him had you in place.

"You smell different from the others. Are you aware of that?" His breath touched your skin and there the exact opposite of heat seeping in your skin. “La tua cantante. I can hear your blood flowing through your veins. I can hear your heart. It's beautiful." He sniffs your neck as he hisses.

He wasn't human, and this time you were sure. He had danger lingering in his eyes, but it dressed so captivatingly beautiful, you found yourself lost.

"It won't hurt, I promise. It will be just a tiny bite, you won't even feel it."

There were words coming out of your mouth, you swore that. But nothing, your mouth still and close. It's sort of like he had power upon you, controlling and manipulating your body to be a mannequin. 

"Shh, don't fight it. You won't win over me." His teeth were grazing on your neck, seeking for a soft spot. You were unsure of his nature, what could he be?

An alien from this alien planet? An experiment gone wrong that escaped from a lab, perhaps? Maybe a demon, or an angel. A greek god of some kind?

They were all terrifying.

At the corner of your eye appeared a shirtless Taehyung, but he didn't look like himself. He was red, smoke flaring around his body. His chest expanded by time, and when you felt a small sensation of sharpness on your neck, Taehyung jumped towards the man.

No, it can't be.

This isn't Taehyung. Taehyung was gone. Maybe you were imagining things, but you felt all of them happening in front of you. As the man got distracted, your senses came back, falling on your side from losing balance. You pushed yourself away from the two monsters, as you would describe it. This wolf was huge, enormous. Any man who would try to fight it will easily lose. It stands almost seven foot, three bears wide.

Without trying, the creature had already decapitated the man. You weren't sure how to feel — safe or worried — but you were sure that you are mortified, and your face clearly expresses that.

You were only moving away from this huge thing in front of you, maybe that'll help you escape. But you don't even know if you wanted to escape. A part of you believes that Taehyung is inside that wolf, maybe eaten alive, or a spirit. 

So much for the wild coyotes, thanks for the heads up Sylvia.

Your eyes met his. Dark bronze eyes with specks of gold if you look close enough. You could almost see yourself in them, they were that kind. His eyes had a message for you, to approach him, to pet him, that it was okay and he will never hurt you. Before your hand could land on his lowered head, Sam and the others came running to help you, obviously seeing the wolf, but not even being bothered like you were.

"Y/n, are you alright?" Sam helps you stand on your feet.

Sam and the wolf had some kind of connection. Sam stared at it and the wolf left.

"So, wolves are normal here?" you spoke with a weak voice.

Sam opened his mouth and closed it again, thinking of how he can explain what just happened. You know that he knows something, and he was struggling to tell it.

"Where's Taehyung?" You scan their faces with no sign of Taehyung.

Holy shit! The wolf ate him! you thought. All you want to see right now is Taehyung. To prove himself. He can't be that wolf. The wolf must have eaten him. It is far too impossible for Quileute Legends to be real.

"We should get going before the other cold ones get here." Sam assists you to get back in the tents, completely ignoring your state of bewilderment.

Maybe it's a Forks thing to be mysterious and quiet. It irks you so much that none of them are even acknowledging what happened. This would be a great story for your mom.

Hey, Mom. Just wanted to call to tell you about how great my day was. So Taehyung, right? Aunt's neighbor, really hot guy I'd totally fuck, got eaten by a werewolf. But that's not too crazy, an incredibly beautiful medieval British man held me hostage, telling me he wanted to suck my blood. What a Forks thing! And everybody saw this huge tall wolf, I'm talking as big as a shelf kind of wolf, but they all acted like it was some puppy leaving the scene. Anyways, Mom, I'm traumatized. Going home in a week.

There is no way you can paraphrase that. No way you can make everything happening right now to sound normal at least one bit. This must be normal in Forks, but this is some Hollywood work in LA already. Things like these don't happen unless there was a shoot next door.

"Hey, you okay?" Leah approaches you. Her concern is seemingly genuine.

"I'm alive, guess I am okay. Where's Taehyung?" You don't bother to look at anyone at all, you drive your attention to the waves landing on the beach, hoping you could synchronize your breathing with them.

"Taehyung's fine. You don't have to worry about him."

"I saw him there. He was... he was red! Like he was burning! And... and there was smoke. Then I blinked, then there's a wolf. I swear it ate him!" Leah looked at you with wide eyes, but her lips were shaking trying to hide a smile.

"You're not taking me seriously! That wolf killed that guy! I don't know. He sounded British!" Leah bit her lip. "That was horrifying. I saw its head removed, there was no blood! What was that?" Leah inhaled sharply before looking at you with assurance.

"Can you calm down? The wolf you saw, don't you think it was described like the one in the legends?" Leah almost shouted, yet still controlling her laugh.

"Shapeshifters? Those are legends, Leah! The wolf ate Taehyung!" 

She chuckled. "No, they are real," she protested.

"The British man there was a cold one, a literal vampire. Taehyung didn't kill him, he was already dead."

No.

"Shut up, Leah. I know you hate me, but this is no time for jokes." 

She laughs harder. "You're right about me not liking you, but I'm not joking. That dark brown werewolf is Taehyung. One and only Taehyung. 20 year-old Taehyung who lives at the rez. That Taehyung."

'The world is darker than you think. It's not always safe.'

Taehyung had already given you clues from the start. But a word from Leah wouldn't be enough to stop your mind from going everywhere. You needed to hear this from Taehyung.

It was twilight already and the group had decided to spend the night in their cabin, instead of the beach. Sam explained that it was for your safety which until now he hasn't elaborated yet. Emily offered newly baked muffins, but it was too late before you could grab one when all the boys devoured around them. You gave Emily a smile.

"You can have the next batch." She shied away.

Emily looks like an average girl next door. She had fringes and medium length hair, they were very flat. Her skin was like the others, tan and healthy-looking. One thing you haven't examined deeply about her were her eyes. Embry had told you once that staring at Emily would bother Sam, and when you first saw her, you knew immediately why. She had a scar on one of her eyes, they looked painful. It looks like a cat scratch, only if that cat was a lion. It covered half of her face, but that didn't stop her from being lovely. She was still pretty in every way.

Taehyung arrives at the cabin, looking at everybody except you, his body resting on the door frame. He was heavy-breathing like he just finished a race. Sam came after him, giving him a small pat then walking towards Emily. Taehyung's eyes remain on the floor. His actions were complicated. You haven't figured him out yet.

"Y/N, Tae, maybe you can talk outside alone." Sam smirks at Taehyung, and Taehyung smiles back.

'This is no time to be smiling!'

Taehyung finally looks at you before leaving the door and you follow. But he still hasn't talked. And your rage is piling up inside you, you finally take a step forward.

"Care to explain what the hell happened there? I thought you were swallowed by that — that thing!" He gulps, stopping his tracks and turning around to see your face.

"I was scared," you muttered.

He totally understood why you were scared. Because he was just as scared and confused as you when he first discovered who he was, and just like you, he chose to deny it in every way he can, and he hoped that denial can make a change.

"You're not supposed to know about this. I didn't want to put you in this position — of knowing what truly there is." His eyes are sad, like he was a missing child.

The same day Taehyung figured out what he was, his eyes looked exactly the same; with fear, agony, and deprecation.

"So, you're a werewolf?" You felt his pupils dilate.

He looked at you in disbelief as if he hadn't given enough clues yet.

"Werewolf. Shapeshifter. Monster. Dog. Whatever you call it, it wasn’t my choice." His voice was weak, almost ashamed of what he had just said.

"And you kill —"

"Vampires." He finishes your sentence before you could assume. "Just vampires. The cold ones? Those that violate the treaty? They’re real." And so the legends were correct and real, and the evidence stands right in front of you, breathing and staring at you.

But no matter what angle you look at him, he wasn't a monster. He is not what he is described in the fairytales. He wasn't a merciless creature, not even harmful. He was just this young boy who lived near you.

"I get that you're afraid of me. Trust me, so am I."

"I'm not scared of you. If it weren't for you I would be bloodless by now." You bit your lip. "But I'm still a little overwhelmed." You gulped.

He had no words, but he was relieved. And you knew that when his eyes twinkled, the kind he gave you when you were jamming to the songs he had in his truck.

"If it's okay for you, I'm inviting you and Sylvia to my birthday tomorrow. It's just a small gathering."

"Will there be drinks?" you kid.

"Sam doesn't really want me taking any drinks for the meantime." He chuckles.

"Why not?"

"He said that I can't be on alcohol during my first six months of phasing. Why? Do you drink?" he innocently asks.

"Was just teasing." You playfully pushed him before proceeding to walk back in the cabin.

Before you even knew it, Taehyung was irrevocably infatuated with you. He wouldn't have thought that a college girl would give a small attention to someone younger than her, or even finding out about who he truly is and still staying by his side. He had spent so much time denying who he was, but maybe being a werewolf isn't so bad after all, if phasing is what it takes to protect you or anyone at all.

You were just like what he thought you would be — kindred spirits.

The party isn’t filled with loud chats and crowds, it is a gathering. Taehyung tried his best to always stand by your side to give you ease in enjoying such an unfamiliar place as Sylvia gets indulged in conversations with the others, completely forgetting you. Every minute though, he'd have to leave you alone on the couch but he'd return as soon as he can.

There weren't much talks between you and him either, only a couple of smiles exchanged whenever Embry and Quil do something embarrassing in front of the both of you.

It seemed as if the night was the longest night of your life, only occupied with listening to others’ stories and Taehyung sipping a punch from his red cup. He had asked a few questions to keep things interesting, but it was hard to keep the mood flowing. You had asked about his hobbies and all the boring stuff you could think of, and surprisingly he would reply with enthusiasm like he have always wanted to be asked those questions. This makes you more curious how his daily life goes, how many people does he actually talk to.

When the hand of the clock drops at ten, you were just patiently waiting for Sylvia to get on her feet and cut the conversation with the others but she seemed to have consumed more alcohol than she could tolerate and the next thing you knew she was laughing like a maniac. You were stuck in a loop circle of smiling so thinly to everyone you get eye contact with.

You distract yourself with admiring the intricate designs of Taehyung's small home, and the thought of a young Taehyung growing up in where you're sitting currently makes your heart jolt. It's uplifting seeing his pictures on the wall, but there was a difference between his smile before and his smile now. One can easily tell which was more true. You had no clue what it's like to be his kind, hell even now you still can't believe what he is. But it sure shows in the way he had changed judging from the innocent photos that hang on the wooden walls. You've never known him since then, yet you wanted to restore this angel-being beaming at the sight of a camera who now hates being in photos because he thinks he's some sort of a monster.

You wanted to ask him about the pictures, the one where he was wearing a towel with a headband, the one where he was framing his face. All of them speak some kind of connection with you, maybe it's your love for photography that makes you feel this way, but innocence is one of the hardest thing to lay your lenses on.

Then you finally got it. What your professor was talking about, drawing something intangible to your camera. This is what he meant. Your gallery is only filled with landscapes, mostly the aesthetic of architecture and nature. Taehyung is what you needed to change the mood of your photos, not the weather, not the dark ambience of Forks, but his story. If only there's a chance for you to grasp his mystery in a single picture, his adventurous smile in one flash.

A pang of pain in your forehead pulls you back into reality, and the lights that stood above you only made it worse. You needed to leave immediately before the pain has you grunting. Welcomed with a wrapping breeze, you brace yourself and regret wearing the dress Sylvia begged you to wear. She said it was her favorite when she was your age, a Prussian blue dress that stops before your knees with tulle around the hem and a lighter blue ribbon on the chest.

Of course Taehyung who sits beside you would notice your leaving, and before you can inhale the fresh air from the porch, he was already asking what's wrong.

"I don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna have to go home alone since Sylvia's still occupied," you said, pushing on your temples with your thumb and middle finger.

"I can drive you home. I don't think they'd notice that we left, they're all pretty wasted." He chuckles, complementing the high tones of the strong wind that travels past your bodies.

"I'm really sorry. I'm being rude, I mean this is your party... your birthday party and you're going to drive me home."

He places the sippy cup on a coffee table near the entrance, and he was palming his pocket to reach for his keys.

"It's fine, y/n. The party's been dead four hours ago and I can't send you home alone. Do you have the house key or should I go back inside and ask Sylvia for it?"

"She gave me a duplicate. I think it's best we go now. My head's really killing me."

It was unusual, headaches. They rarely come to you since you monitor your phone usage and water intake. You hate getting them because you hated taking meds for it, and you just hoped Sylvia would have a stock of it. Your fingers have been roaming your forehead for a while yet you can't seem to navigate where the pain is, where it's beating. It would be better if you could massage it along the ride but you were struggling to even keep your fingers raised.

Taehyung stops the car in the middle of somewhere as you are hitting your head continuously on the head rest. It was quiet, a deafening silence that rang your ears that brought you to open your eyes. Taehyung wasn't in his seat anymore, only fog filling for his place crawling under your skin.

There was your breathing, crickets, and rustles of trees that travel the air. You weren't sure how to react but one was definite, you were scared. The hand resting on your thigh turning white and wet, breathing faster and heavier as the air seems to be corrupted with toxic poison that does nothing but suffocate you.

Don't get out of the car, don't get out of the car, you chant internally hoping it will help your situation.

"Hello, dear," a slinky voice says through the window, almost similar to the man— vampire from yesterday. Could it be? Could there be more? "Don't make me wait, dear. Open the door and make this easy for the both of us, hm?"

It sounds the exact same as the accent the man had with an alluring tone that draws you to open the door. However, it wasn't just her tempting attempt into convincing you to endanger yourself, the pain in your head inflates as you try to control yourself.

"You want it hard, my dear?" She smirks, you weren't sure but you hear the spread of the corner of her lips.

Then she was in front of the headlights, filled with rage, her eyes dark and dangerous as she showed her predacious teeth. From here, you can feel the vibration of her anger as if she had the ability to let you feel all the harnessed emotions inside her. You can count them one by one: anger, vengeance, and the feeling you get before success. None of them were positive emotions, none of them was mercy. She came here to accomplish one thing.

Your death.

Finally understanding it, inside her browbeating eyes were agony and mourning. She was here to avenge the death of the vampire that Taehyung had killed. She was as beautiful, as seductive with her pale skin and ruby lips, curly strawberry blonde hair that flows until her shoulders.

You discovered that there was a split second of slow agonizing memory of your life before it's taken, and you wished there was none. She runs towards you, careless whether she bashes her head into the glass. She takes your neck, her fingers poking specifically at the sides and right before you can regain your breath your eyes open.

Gasping and catching air, awakening in the seat with Taehyung by your side who drives in silence as Midnight Rambler by The Rolling Stones plays from his rusty stereo.

So if you ever meet the midnight rambler

I'm coming down your marble hall

Well, he's pouncing like a proud black panther

Well, you can say I, I told you so

He sits there, unaware of the chaos that repeats in your head. It all felt so real, the grasp on your neck that locks your throat, you could've sworn you've given your last breath. The pain had stopped, replaced by dizziness that you knew would pass as minutes go by. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is there something on my face?"

You shake your head. "I didn't know I was staring."

That's right. You didn't know you were staring. There was so much comfort in knowing he never left, the heat of his presence brings you a feeling of security. It's okay now. Taehyung's still here. By your side.

Once reaching home, Taehyung does his best to assist you as though you were ill. It's cute how he acts that way, so careful, so gentle. Upon reaching your room, Taehyung stops before your bedroom door, almost waiting for an invitation.

"I should get going now. I'll tell Sylvia you felt sick." And before he could say good bye, you're already wrapping yourself in the blankets as he passively makes a step away from your door.

"Taehyung," you said, reaching out. "Thank you for today."

He doesn't turn back. "You're welcome. Also, thank you for coming."

A shiver spreads across your back when your lids start to fall, and your body jolts upwards. The beautiful woman from the early nightmare visits your mind again, her face inches from yours close to ripping it apart.

"Taehyung," you whispered, but he heard you within the thin walls of the lonely house. "Can you... stay for a sec? I... I had a nightmare earlier... felt so real. C-can you?"

He walks back, eyes landing everywhere except your body that waits for him on the bed. Is she serious? he thought as you opened the blankets for a space behind you.

"Until you fall asleep?"

You nod. He kicks off his shoes and he positions himself behind you, both of your breaths synchronizing as he lies down softly. You bury your cheek into the pillow when you feel his warmth wrap the room, the security coming back. You turn your head to see him watching you inches away, his hand keeping his head up as he rests his cheek against it. You take his free hand that lies on his right side, pulling it to your stomach requesting for him to scoot closer until his body brushes your back.

You can stay like this, for longer than you can imagine. Just the sounds of your breaths and the hums of his loud thumping heart that makes its way to your upper back, the release of breath from his nostrils that flies over your hair. Peaceful. Safe and sound.

In his embrace, you forget everything: the packing for Los Angeles, the fear of not getting into any university, the supernatural that you had discovered that you still cannot comprehend, the clouding fear that something is coming to get you. In his arm, it's like they never existed. The worries are nothing but disappearing sea foams, a water in heat that evaporates into thin air.

You enclose the hold in Taehyung's hand above your stomach, intertwining them for ease. Falling back into his embrace, he subtly moves away hoping you wouldn't notice. His warmth turning into heat, breathing ragged, hold on you tighter and stronger. Then you feel it, a gentle thrust behind you and he pretends to adjust position. He pulls you closer with the hand on your stomach and you sigh which caused a poking at your butt.

You may not be the smartest person on earth, but it doesn't take a book to know what it was. Taehyung murmurs an apology, his words passing by your neck which sends your stomach into a spiral. You rub your thighs together hoping to dissipate the throbbing in your core, not now.

Not now that Taehyung's beside you. Or maybe it should be now that Taehyung's beside you, you were open for a helping hand. His hand over your head tucks a strand of your hair, the finger brushing on your temple made your aching much harder to ignore. There would be no distraction, no having to worry about who will hear the both of you, for God's sake the house was built in the middle of nowhere, so you thought 'Fuck it.'

You tug his hand to the middle of your chest, to rest them between your breasts as your head turns to face him. He gulps, looking at you intently with lust hovering over his hooded eyes. You lean towards him, your lips reaching his and he pulls away for a second before diving back in. He had pillowy lips, and if it weren't for your hot need at the moment you would let your lips sleep on them for a longer while, but as of right now there are a lot of tensions that need handling.

You leave his hand on your chest while he's still shy to grope one of your breasts. Your hand then wrapping the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, he sighs. That sigh caused the aching to grow, shaking your behind to feel how needy he was and he sighs again. His hand that was on your chest now pushes below the curves of your breasts to pull you closer, to have more friction, to thrust into you.

Until he couldn't take it anymore, he wants you below him as much as you want him on top of you. He hovers above you, his knee swift in spreading your thighs open and he is bucking in a steady pace on your clothed entrance.

"Take me, Taehyung," you breathe the second he leaves your lips.

He takes it slow, burning your insides, as his fingers pull the bow on your chest, untying the effortless knot you had made in the mirror. Too slow to keep up with your throbbing heat, you trail his hand to open the loose front, exposing

your nude bra. His eyes are pinned on yours, and you would make quick glances at his moderate hand you're directing. You unclasp the front of your bra, and when he hears it setting on the bed, he kisses you as if asking if you were really sure. Beneath the feverish endless kiss were words of fear from him, what if he wasn't truly ready.

The last time he had experienced this was long ago, a time before he knew how dangerous he could be. Careless of what his hands could bring, when he hadn't given a single thought for any of his actions. Well, it was one time, only once with the first girl he had ever loved. And the first was always the quickest, but it was unforgettable, he had kept every detail of her daisy fresh skin remembered under his fingertips. The laughs they had shared in between, a significance of the innocence they were about to lose. His head loses in doubts, questions that can only be answered if he risks hurting you tonight.

Then you whisper, "It's okay, you're not going to hurt me." Because in your mind, that was the last thing in his abilities. You smile, "It's okay." Rubbing circles at the back of his trembling hand, his jaw clenches.

Once he had started kissing you again, you parted his lips with your tongue in which he had replied with a tender bite causing you to moan within your throat. This motivates him to grope your breast, aggressing as seconds pass by, pulling a nipple in between his fingers and you arch your back. You rest your feet on his back, synchronizing with the movement of his hips. You admire the way his head moves downward, stopping after every inch of your skin to place a soft kiss until he reaches your breasts to which he places a long stripe lick moving from one bud to another while his eyes remain on yours. He's going to be the death of you.

You pant, trying to reach his hips that came to a halt. His hands pushing the hem of your dress higher, stopping at the middle of your waist. And his evil slow hands, still taking his time, move behind your thighs to pull them away from his back and placing them on his shoulders as he gets comfortable right between them. With gaze pierced on yours, he flats his lips on your clothed slit, tracing the wet spot visible in your white underwear. The thought of you being almost naked underneath the dress ever since earlier brought Taehyung into insanity, he could've fucked you with his fingers on the couch, he could've removed them and left your pussy out in the open as he keeps it in his pocket, he could've done so many things if only he knew earlier how much you'd wanted him just the same.

You look at the empty ceiling, too affected by the darkness in his stare, you were scared you would cum too quickly if you remain watching. He pulls your garment upward to put his bare thumb against your clit, until you couldn't take it and you look down again to see him putting the said thumb in his mouth. Sweeter than the cranberry juice he'd been tolerating to drink, adding that to the list he could've done earlier while your panties were in his pocket; enjoying the sweet fervor of your cunt on his tongue. He plays at your clit, tongue curling to lap up the wetness that increases as his spit mixes in. He knows so well what he's doing, the fragile scoop of his bottom lip from your opening to your clit where he stops.

Everywhere around his lips glistens as the bright light from the hallway outside your room shines upon them. His hands still holding your thighs steady, he slips his tongue inside you which has you shaking and he had to adjust the control in his grip. Once they've settled, he puts his touch above your breasts, flicking both buds in each hand.

You were crumbling under him, desperate for release, grunting in a throaty voice as you tried to keep yourself together. Tears huddle in your eyes, blurring your vision until he stops, now smiling above you while he pulls your underwear away from your body. It doesn't take long for him to get naked and you take time to admire his build. His skin was made of honey, toned and reflective of the warmth he emits. His cock slapping his tummy before he could fully get out of his tight boxers, his tip reaching his button.

He returns to his position between your thighs but this time around he was the one to wrap your legs around his waist. His shaft falls between your slit and he makes subtle movements in burying himself between them.

"I just want to say," he began, "how amazing you are." A gravelly moan of your name escapes his lips as you take matters in your own hand, thumb going over the head of his cock while the rest of your fingers rest wraps his cock.

He thrusts into your hand. His face forming wrinkles, frustration painted across his face. Until he falls on both arms caging your head, bucking for more friction, enjoying the suppleness of your touch. He was groaning, panting, and making a mess of himself to which all echoes from one wall to another. You put a hand on his abdomen to break his movement. He obeys, feeling you part yourself for his cock, torturously slow in entering you.

You pull your hands to your sides, getting a hold of Taehyung's biceps. Opening your lids to watch his pupils dilate as he rams the rest of his length inside your beating entrance.

"Y/n," he groans, brow knotting together when you clench around him. He's going to fall apart, he thought. You wrap him tighter, letting go of yourself in ecstasy, careless whether you melt into the bed or break it, all is well as long as you're looking into his eyes.

He chants your name again and again in a symphony of continuous moaning, and all you could say is how good he sounds. A compilation of ah's and oh's whenever he reaches your spot, his head brushing against it and it felt like nothing but heaven. More, he wants more, if only he could fuck you endlessly he would. The bed hits the wall in coordination of his sharp thrusts, and he's losing himself in you he couldn't care less if he breaks the walls. In sync with the sounds he makes were your gasps and high-pitched whispers of his name that he can see himself in the near future thinking of them and fucking himself alone in his room as he recalls them.

"Tae— oh fuck, Taehyung," you cried out causing his cock to twitch inside you, you call out for more. His name and a couple of curses were the only words you could spew out. Trembling, you feel an explosion of euphoria inside you, letting go of the tight grip around Taehyung's arm.

With one last fluid thrust, he pulls himself out and spills himself on top of your stomach. Both of your breathing slows until they were no longer audible. He rolls to his back beside you waiting to cool down and you take care of yourself by wiping his cum away with the tissue from the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, I made a mess," he says, breaking silence.

You didn't reply, instead you lie on your side to face him and wrap his cock in your warm hand. His cock still hard and wet under your touch, he breathes out a long sigh. "I made a mess of you too."

He chuckles before placing one last kiss on your forehead, and you watch him fall into his dreams. You shut the door, thankful Sylvia didn't come home during the circumstances earlier. You make a note not to leave it open next time.

Next time? Were you actually hoping for a next time? It's not long until you're leaving. Forks is not your home. Your home is on the other side of the country, and everything you grew up with awaits there. Forks is not your home, you tell yourself. The night grows along with your need for sleep, falling onto Taehyung's chest and getting lost in a slumber. You wake to Sylvia opening the door, an indication of her coming home, and you fall asleep again.

The next time you wake up, the sun shining alight from the windows to your eyes, Taehyung was sitting at the end of the bed fully clothed. His head turns slightly, feeling the sense of your waking.

"Y/n, there's not just one who wants to kill you," he says but you couldn't make out a single word, "there's a whole coven of them."

a/n: happy new year! pls dont take the bella comment seriously. also team jacob ftw!!! also appreciate my banner work owo.this is my first descriptive smut like i actually write them having sex idk i hope yall like it tho :* i love y’all! 

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Soulmate au

Before you meet your soulmate you have to deal with a chibi version of them before actually meeting them. So can you handle it?

This one is readers point of view

Kai's point of view

Normally people immediately found their chibis of their soulmates when they turned 18. But every rule has their exception.

You were twenty years old and could only watch people talking, cuddling and cooing at the tiny little things or actually their real soulmate... this always leaves a feeling of envy, but you never losed hope. Seeing those couples afterwards gave you ideas on what to do when you finally found your soulmate.

And with the job you had on the library, it was always possible to daydream about it.

Waving goodbye at your coworker you sighed, arranging the books and getting excited to finally end your shift... That was your plan before you yelped when many books from a shelf nearby all fall with an unknown sound.

Grabbing just a ruler as your unique weapon as you slowly tip toed to where it came the sound.

You widened your eyes and trembled at seing the books were moving and you hesitantly poked it with the ruler... making a squeak sound as you tilted your head.

"A... mouse?" You mumbled before screaming and falling in your butt as the book suddenly exploded in front of you in pieces. Breathing in and out you decided to pick at it only to widened your eyes.

A tiny little thing with golden eyes, dark brow hair and the most cute yet weird jacket you ever saw was patting his tiny glived hands while staring nonchantly at them before looking up at you, the same bored expression as before as he shoved his hands on the pockets of his jacket.

"I-It.. it cant be.." you muttered, getting on your knees to look down at the chibi version in front of you. He only arched one eyebrow yet not moving one muscle of his.

You went to touch his cheek with your index finger before he growled and slapped your finger away. It didn't hurt a bit but you still put your hands on surrender.

"Alright! Alright! Weren't you suppose to be more gentle with me?" You exclaimed before deadpanning when you remembered that chibis can't talk.

You looked at the pieces of what was once suppose to be a book and pointed at it.

"Please tell me you can repair that..." he only looked at you before sighing what was probably in annoyance and going to touch and just as a one blink of the eye the book returned as you looked down at him in awe before smilling.

"So this is your quirk huh?"

.

.

.

Since the chibis cant tell the name of them you decided to name your little companion as "goldie" because of the cold of his eyes.... even if for the first few times he only glared at you.

The thing about goldie was that he never was willing to be touched. This confused you a bit at first yet you decided not to pry from it since at night the little chibi would always curl up in your chest and doze off, thinking you were already asleep.

You also notice his passion about cleaning. Ever time it was something dirty or you didn't shower he would emmit huge amounts of 'squeaks' until you cleaned that thing.

"Geez you're a bit demanding arent you?" You giggled while rubbing the sink as he nodded in aproval or confirmation... you couldn't know.

You usually left him alone, but then one day you returned from work and the poor little thing was so scared that it did something you never once thought he would do. Hug any part of you that it could find.

This must meant that in that moment your own soulmate was suffering and your heart clenched at that as you brought Goldie to your cheek as you comforted him the best you could.

Ever since then he demanded to stay on your shoulder and go out along with you.

You were on the library and smiled at a client who went to talk with you for informations, although the male was only getting closer and then noticed the chibi on your shoulder glaring at him like he was about to rip his throat.

"Ah, so you got an soulmate I see." He talked as you giggled an yes "You know what? I dont quite believe those things, what about you and me go to a-" before the guy could finish his sentence Goldie hissed and literally grapped one book, despite being HUGE in comparation with him and hitted on the guy's face.

"WHAT THE FUCK-?!" The young male hissed as you grabbed Goldie in both of your hands as he patted his tiny hands and huffed, crossing his arms over his tiny little chest.

"I'm so sorry sir!" You whispered shouted as the guy left mumbling curses... one that especially caught on your heart strings.

"Quirkless bitch and stupid chibi little shit."

You immediately had your mood down as you tried to hold back the tears already in your eyes before you heard a squeak coming from your hands.

Goldie had a frown on his face before he mentioned for you to lift him up to your eye level only to surprise you with a sweet little kiss on each of your eyes. You immediatly smiled back amd rubbed your cheek with his as he grumbled.

"Aww you act all though but you're a softie on the end aren't you?" You cooed as the tiny male in your hands growled, despite having a pink on his tiny cheeks.

.

.

.

Thre months had passed and you heard your door bell ring. All the hopes that it was your soulmate rised on your chest only to fell as you only saw the mailman handing you a box.

Signing and thanking the worker, you closed the door and found Goldie nimbling on a cake you baked/bought it and you giggled at him, with how threatening he looked once but now looked aa the most adorable thing ever.

You put the box down on the middle of the room and started to open only to be freed aa Goldie touched one bare finger of it to help you.

"Look little guy! You like cleaning do you?" You picked the robot and turned it on, Goldie already on guard as if it was going to attack you "Its a romba! It's a little robot that cleans the floor!" You smiled down at the shock on his face before he climbed on the robot and rode it as it was a car or horse.

You never laughed so hard on your life, especially when Goldie used his foot hit the wall to make the romba go to the place he wanted to be clean.

.

.

.

You woke up with pokes in your cheek, groaning you saw Goldie, waving at you as you smiled and petted his head carefully.

He pointed to the calendar and you groaned. It was the day you needed to go out to buy groceries, looking at Goldie who only deadpanned at you.

"Do I need to?" He only huffed and crossed his arms as you rolled your eyes and prepared to go out.

.

.

.

You were asking for some Takoyaki before Goldie suddenly gone crazy. Getting up on your shoulder and squeaking loudly at some place on the market as you grabbed him on your hands when he almost fell on the floor.

"What?! Hey you're okay?" You tried to bring him close but he only jumped from your grip and ran away. Making you panick and ram after him I'm fear he could be stepped on.

The little guy was fast and even used his quirk to make a wave of concrete to carry him. He turned on an aisle and you almost losed it.

"GOLDIE!" you shouted before stopping abruptly when you saw the chibi of your soulmate on the ground, hugging close another chibi with (E/c) eyes and hair with the color of... wait... it was you! It was a chibi version of you! Hugging and kissing Goldie just as much as he was doing with them.

You gaped at the cuteness of the scene before you saw a male running towards your chibi version only to be stopped by the same reason as you did. The man was way taller than you imagined, and different from Goldie he weared a mask to hide half of his face.

You gaped at how beautiful the man was as his wide amber eyes looked back at your with the same shock.

You took hesitant steps as he did the same, both of you looking at each other as if you both had found a precious and unique treasure.

His eyes slowed went back to normal as he looked at you. You giggled at him making him arch his eyebrow, exactly like Goldie, making you laugh before putting a hand to cover your mouth.

"Sorey!" You said between giggles "Is just that... you act exactly like your chibi."

"Same goes for you." He looked at your chibi version and then back at you, extending one gloved hand at you.

"So, what is my soulmate's name?" He asked nonchantly but the glint of happines of his eyes was way too much evident.

"(L/n) (Y/n). And mine soulmate's name is..?"

"People call me Overhaul... but-" your hand interviewed and you felt all of your body go warm and fuzzy at the way he looked at you "You can call me by my real name. Chisaki Kai."

"Alright." You smiled before the both of your chibis versions squeaked as your soul- Kai. Kai zend a half glare at your chibi version.

"What is it now brat? You found m-"

"You called me brat?" You asked in false disbelief as he at her one eyebrow at you.

"A better name than Goldie." He shivered as you scoffed.

"Is a good name... Goldie." You smirked at him as he scoffed, holding your hand a bit tighter.

"Brat."

[joheun-saram]

To Make A Power Couple (knj) | 8

Chapter 8: Housewarming

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Finally moved in together, Namjoon and Y/N relish their time together despite their schedules and stupid misunderstandings

word count- 8.8k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, smut, slight angst

warnings- extreme domestic fluff, mention of parental death, alcohol consumption, kink shaming (kinda? idk man), dom!joon, sub!reader, smut (unprotected sex, fingering, rough sex, marking, somewhat daddy kink, orgasm denial), safeword use (yellow), Namjoon being whipped but also being a dumbass, Y/N just trying to chill, Namjoon’s obsessed with her ass ig

a.n- apologies for this chapter taking literally forever! but i give you fluff for your patience. so much fluff omg. can i move in with joon already? but also we cant have this much fluff without a sprinkle of angst. 

special s/o to @himbojk​,  @pars-ley​, and @s0seo​ for beta reading parts for me  and easing my worries 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond, @asdfghjklqwertyv, @cheesecakes-randomshitz​, @goldenjongho

-

“Are you sure about this? It’s only been six months honey.” Your mother looked at you through the screen and you felt your heart tighten. She had that worried look on her face, the one that tells you that she will respect your decision but isn’t too happy about it. She looked different too, the wrinkles around her eyes more pronounced as she frowned and you wish you could convince her of your decision.

“Seven, actually. I love him, mom. I thought you liked him?” She had been nothing but supportive of your relationship, trusting you to make the right decisions. It had been the two of you for so long when you were younger that it always felt weird that you were on your own now. When your father had passed away when you were starting high school, she had done everything in her power to ensure you never felt like you were down a parent. As a senior partner at a management consultancy, she had long hours and business trips but she always picked you up from school and often took you with her on her business trips. Her trips are the reason that by the time you finished high school, you had been to pretty much every major city in North America. Not to mention that watching her working is the reason you were so good at what you did now. 

You remember when the first year after your father’s death you had to go to a father-daughter school dance and she donned one of his old suits to take you. You danced with her that night, surrounded by your peers and their fathers, but smiling at her as you nuzzled into her neck, her scent mingling with your dad’s on the clothes. You felt safe and you decided you never wanted to disappoint her. Maybe that’s where your drive to succeed came from - from ensuring that your mom, who worked long hours but still had a homemade dinner on the table when you came back from school, was proud of you.

“I do like him, honey. Namjoon is probably the best boyfriend you’ve had. I’m just worried you both are moving too fast.” She sighed as she sipped her tea. “He’s a rockstar, I just want you to be happy but what if things changed?”

“A rockstar?” You giggled. Sometimes you forgot that your mom was kind of old school, not beyond judging a book by its cover. “He’d probably die of embarrassment to hear you say that.”

“Y/N I’m just saying. Be careful with your heart.” Her voice was stern as she looked at you through the screen, her eyes narrowed with her warning.

“I know mom. I’m sorry. I trust him, you know. I don’t think I knew what love was till I met him. Having him around makes me feel safe, less lonely.”

“He’s still responsible for my daughter being in a cast.” After the incident, your mother had grown a bit wary of your relationship. She knew he was famous but she never realised just how many sacrifices the two of you had made to be together. You knew she was aware that Namjoon would never hurt you but you still felt bad that she was worrying over what was an anomaly. Speaking to Namjoon, you knew that something of the sort had never happened to him and his members, even to his other idol friends. The thought of it being such a rare occurrence had given you assurance and you hoped it would translate to your worried mother an ocean away.

“Mom! It’s not his fault. We’ve been over this!”

“I know, I know. I’m your mom. I’m just worried.” She sighed as she resigned from the conversation. You knew your mom had your best interests at heart but she didn’t know Namjoon like you did. She had met him twice over the screen and then had spent countless hours googling him and sending you clips of him breaking things with texts calling him out (“he better not be this clumsy with your heart”). You love her but you never know how to convince her that she had nothing to worry about. “Anyways, how’s my favourite son Harry?”

And so the conversation moved on from her qualms about your soon-to-be live-in boyfriend to your business as you told her about the plans you had for your company and talked about your friends. As you went to bed after hanging up, you looked at the empty side. It was the first time in weeks you were sleeping without your boyfriend but you were giddy as you thought about the morning when he would finally move in and you would never see that empty side again.

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

“Baby why are all your shelves empty? Why have I never noticed this before?” Namjoon stood frowning in the kitchen with a box of his dishes and cutlery, something you made fun of him about since he notoriously lives on take out, as he placed his plates in the shelves above your kitchen counters.  

“Really Joon? Do you know who you’re dating?” You giggled as you hopped off the counter you were sitting at and stood next to him. Reaching up to extend your uninjured hand as far as it could, you looked at him as you just about reached the bottom shelf. You were not that short but whoever designed this apartment thought the shelves looked extra elegant if they were extra high. 

“Aw! You’re so cute!” He cooed as he patted your head condescendingly, causing you to scowl and narrow your eyes at him. Before you could retort, he put his arms around your waist lifting you so you were eye level with the shelves. “See? Now you can reach! Teamwork!”

You laughed as he put you down, turning around to wrap your arm around him. “Can’t believe we live together now,” you whispered into his chest as you felt him kiss the top of your head. Placing your chin against him you looked up, speaking in a hushed tone. “Promise me you won’t start hating me and my little quirks.”

“I could never hate you, as long as you promise not to get annoyed by me practicing in our living room.” Namjoon looked at you with a wide smile, as he cupped your face, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. You hugged him as you looked across the kitchen island towards your large living room. The large shelf in the corner that once only housed only your books and vinyls was now filled with pieces of your boyfriend. The top shelves had his books with his own organization system (apparently organizing books based on colours was too chaotic for him) as his little collectible figurines stood at random places. Not to mention the tiny baby shoes he had added on one of the shelves (“They’re just cute! I’m totally not picturing a cute fat baby with your doe eyes!”). 

You both had added another shelf near the balcony that now housed his extensive plant collection, in fact you had never seen this apartment more green, little plants scattered in the corners. In addition to your framed posters, there were now paintings from his collection, eclectic pieces that lit the blank white walls in color. You both had even moved the couch to the corner and added a mirror on the nearby wall that not only made the room look larger but would help Namjoon if he ever needed to practice his dances. 

You sighed contentedly as what was once your home now became the both of yours, your hobbies and tastes intermingling in a perfect union. The den was now a studio, soundproofed and full of midi boards and amps - it seemed like a piece of Namjoon had a place in your home. The two of you had gone back and forth over where to live, whether to move into his house or buy a new place completely, but in the end you had decided your apartment would be best since it was close to both of your work places and because it housed the most memories you shared.

“Oh! Or we can buy a new place?” You looked up at Namjoon’s profile from where you laid next to him, you head in the crook of his arm, his fingers tracing circles on your skin, right above where your cast ended. You were both in bed, a few days after he asked you to move in together, eager to figure out where you would embark on your latest relationship milestone.

“What about here? I like it here. This is our spot.”

“Really you wanna move in here?”

“Yeah this is where we had our first official date. This is where we found out that Ken Burns documentaries make you fall asleep-” He grunted as you smacked his chest at his comment, laughing before continuing. “This is where I first found out how much I love your food. Heck, that living room was where I knew I was in love with you!”

“Oh? You haven’t told me that before.” The two of you turn on your sides to look at each other as you grinned at him in anticipation.

“Yeah it was like a few weeks after we became official. I came over and you were at the gym and when you came back we ordered like a massive pizza and you were so giddy while eating it, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m sure I had literal heart eyes.”

“You know you really like me and pizza together,” you joked as you played with the necklace he had given you, his hand coming to fiddle with the chain as well.

“What can I say? I like you covered in sauce.” He laughed as he held your chin and brought you in for a kiss, humming gently when you separate.

“Be honest though, you totally fell in love with me when I agreed to recreate that porn you like, didn’t you?”

“Ah fuck! You’re right, that’s like the number one reason we should move in here. This is where we found out calling me daddy makes you gag.”

“Yes I’m sure it was just calling you that and not your stupidly big dick.” You both broke into fits of laughter holding on to each other, falling back into the comforting silence, before Namjoon broke it looking at you with a smirk.

“So how about we break out that riding crop again? Hmm? Get you in some of that sexy lingerie?” He moved his arm lower from where it sat on your waist to your hips, his fingers playing with the waistband of your pajamas.

“But baby you said you loved my batman underwear,” you whined jokingly, giggling with your arm around his neck as you looked at him coyly.

“Honestly? I love you in anything.” He said earnestly as he captured your lips in a searing kiss, moving his body to lay on top of yours carefully avoiding your injured arm. “Or nothing…”

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

The first week of living together was odd. The two of you had spent the month after deciding to move in together planning so much, even buying new furniture, but now that you were living together it was weird. It wasn’t a bad weird, in fact it was a very, very good weird. You and Namjoon had never lived with a partner before and much like when you first got together, it felt easy. Maybe it was practice from when Namjoon was over all the time, but it just felt so effortless being with each other.

You would be lying if you said your mother’s words hadn’t opened up an insecurity within you. You were messy, sure it was an organized mess, but you were messy. You tend to forget where you put things, and when you’re stressed even the smallest of inconveniences make you snap. However, somehow Namjoon just slotted himself into your life so seamlessly, you were finding it hard to believe how lucky you were. 

On Monday, you came home and as usual threw whatever jacket you were wearing on the floor, he followed, silently picking it up and hanging it. Namjoon was organized and that made you remember where you left your keys on Tuesday, because now they were always in the cute little crab shaped plate near the foyer. On Wednesday you were infuriated with work and when you went to pee when you reached home, the toilet seat was up causing you to nearly topple in. But unlike usual when you would’ve torn whoever did that to pieces, you broke into a laugh, dialing Namjoon at practice and telling him you missed him. On Thursday, you had your doctor’s appointment to finally get the cast off, and when you returned home to excitedly show off your new arm, Namjoon frowned at the large scar before kissing it repeatedly and spending the night worshipping you. On Friday, the two of you saw the smog warning and donned some masks going to Yeouido Hangang Park, melding in with the mask-wearing strangers enjoying convenience store kimbap and beers as you read your book aloud to him, lounging on the sloping greens. That was also when he learned you didn’t know how to ride a bike, making it his responsibility to teach you.

“I still can’t believe you don’t know how to ride a bike!” Namjoon laughed as he held onto the handlebars. You struggled to keep the balance, your feet resting lightly on the pedals of the rented bike as he slowly pushed you. 

“I skateboarded instead! You tell me that once you land an ollie!” you huffed, now pushing on the pedals, albeit gently. Namjoon found your hesitation adorable. He loved discovering these different sides of you. The fact that his always confident girlfriend seemed scared of something as simple as a bike when she was apparently doing tricks on a skateboard, made his heart swell. It was like you kept all your embarrassing secrets for him, you told him things that no one knew about you, and he couldn’t wait to discover more. 

For Namjoon, moving in had been as easy as breathing, even though it had barely been a week. On Monday, he took a homemade lunch to work for the first time in a year. When he opened the box, the smell of your stew lingered in his studio and every time he returned from a meeting that day, the scent made him smile. On Tuesday, you came by his building to pick him up, waving excitedly as he wrapped up a livestream and tried not to giggle like a fool in love, which he very much was. Wednesday, he was having a tough time getting the new dance routine down, but then you called him out of the blue and it made his heart flutter, reenergizing him to finally nail the steps. When your cast came off on Thursday, he was again filled with guilt about his part in your attack, but your assurances helped him ease his mind. However, not as much as you screaming his name when he made you cum for the third time on his tongue. Namjoon had never felt so connected to someone before. Usually he would be scared to share so much of his life with another person, but with you he couldn’t wait. He felt extremely lucky just to be in your presence, soaking in the determined look on your face as he taught you how to ride a bike.

“Okay shit. Nevermind that’s really hot. Let’s go skateboarding next time,” he smiled at you mischievously, knowing that he was going to let go of the bike any second.

“I haven’t done that in ten - Oh my god! Don’t let go! Why are you letting go?” You looked behind you to see Namjoon put a thumb in the air in encouragement.

“You’re a big girl, you can do it. I believe in you!”

“I hate you! I’m gonna fall! How do I stop?!” You could feel the wind blowing through your hair as you steadily picked up speed, and you were terrified. How did you let your tree of a boyfriend talk you into this? There was a reason you had legs, why did you need these stupid wheels?!

“Just push the brakes and put your leg out.”

“Joon! Namjoon! I’m gonna fall!” You watched your life flash before your eyes as you cursed, falling on to the grass, your bike between your legs. Namjoon jogged up the few meters to stand above you, almost doubling over in laughter, causing you to cross your arms where you laid pouting at him. “Stop laughing at me!”

“Sorry! I just - you were going so slow! You literally fell in slow motion!” He continued laughing, even having the audacity to wipe a tear off his eye as you glared at him, before moving the bike and helping you up. “Come on up. There we go!” He beamed at you making it much harder to be mad at him when his eyes squinted in that adorable way they do when he’s extra pleased.

“If I break my arm again it’s your fault.” You leaned into him as he put an arm around you, the other walking the bike back to its station. 

“Sorry, sorry! Okay I think that was enough practice. Let’s go home.” He pulled you closer, the bike now firmly locked and no longer charging him through the app. With your arms around his waist, you kind of felt bad giving up on learning so easily. He had seemed so excited when he suggested biking around the river.

“Sorry I can’t bike with you. I wanna share your hobbies!” You pouted, making Namjoon swoon.

“Baby we literally share like seven million hobbies. It’s okay if you don’t like biking. I hate all the Shark Tank episodes you make me sit through.” He laughed as you looked up at him, even with the mask covering half his face you could tell how his dimples would be poking through his cheeks at your comment.

“You said you liked them!”

“It was a month into dating you. I lied.” You rolled your eyes at his nonchalance as he smiled smugly. You knew he hated that show, he would always be getting up to go to the bathroom or get snacks during the pivotal moments. Well at least he was committed enough to not be on his phone when you watched together. Now that you think about it, he must really love you to sit through the marathon you had of it last month.

“So what else do you hate?”

“Arthur C Clarke. I don’t get why you love 2001 so much. It’s so pseudo philosophical and the sequels suck.”

“But the monolith Joon! The spark of curiosity and ambition! And like the combined consciousness! Come on!”

“Eh. Pretentious. Douglas Adams did it better.” He shrugged.

“I can’t believe you! Those are like two different concepts!” You laughed as he dissed one of your favourite books, enjoying his warmth against you as the two of you waited for the car to pick you up in the parking lot.

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

Saturday would mark the first weekend of you both living together, and so it was time to celebrate. The two of you had taken the day off in preparation for the first party you would host together, in the apartment you lived together. Just the thought made you giddy. You walked around the grocery store, stocking up on snacks and alcohol as Hayoon, Namjoon’s favourite security personnel, helped you carry the basket that kept getting heavier. You still found it weird walking around with the 195cm, extremely buff older man, but with the attack still fresh in your head, it was comforting having the looming presence. You had noticed that people didn’t even look twice at you, when in the past your foreigner status would have had at least a few staring at you.

Thanking Hayoon for carrying your supplies and bidding him a goodbye, you walked into your living room to find your boyfriend dancing to music playing from his earphones. Somehow in the midst of cleaning and moving furniture to make room for the twenty something people you both had invited, he had started working. You couldn’t blame him when you yourself had taken the time in the car to answer a few emails. It gave you the perfect opportunity to share your present with him.

“I’ve got a surprise for you!” You walked over to block his view of himself in the mirror as he rolled his body to some unknown tune. It was quite funny watching his concentrated scowl turn into confusion, barely hearing you.

“Hmm?”

“Stop dancing! I’ve got a surprise!”

“Can’t stop babe I have to get this down before Monday.” Namjoon looked over your head into the mirror as he continued practicing his choreography, making you roll his eyes.

“Hmm maybe Kook would wanna go instead,” you said nonchalantly as you turned around and started to slowly back away, before Namjoon’s arm came around your waist, stopping you.

“Ah baby don’t do that. See, airpod out, I’m listening!” You grinned as Namjoon pulled his earphone out, stopping the music but continuing to dance.

“You know you look like one of the sims just dancing there without music,” you joked, giggling.

“Babbbbbe! Where are we going?” he whined.

“So you know how your favourite rapper is Nas?”

“Yes I’m aware.”

“I got backstage passes!”

“What? For me?” Namjoon stilled, a dopey grin on his face as you walked closer to him to show him the tickets on your phone. It wasn’t a huge present but when one of your clients had asked if you wanted to attend, you couldn’t refuse the tickets. It helped that your client owned the stadium the performance was at and had accommodated your special requests for privacy.

“And you get to watch from this barricade so you don’t have to worry about paparazzi or fans and you can just enjoy the show!” Namjoon’s heart swelled as he heard your words. You never failed to surprise him with how much you went out of your way to make him comfortable. Lately, you’d been making him want to declare your relationship to the world. It was a dumb fantasy and the two of you had talked (argued) about going public, but between the two of you it seemed that you were more against it.

“You’re coming with me right?” He put his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I don’t know, I know I just said you’ll have privacy but what if someone sees us together? Maybe you can take Yoongi.” You look up at him with a frown, your hands on his chest, as you assessed the different ways the concert could affect your privacy. He hated how you had to overthink such a simple outing, mirroring your frown as he reached to relax the crease between your brows before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Shut up. I’m only taking you. The whole world can watch!” He grinned making you roll your eyes. 

“You scare me with how easily you just said that.” You swatted at his chest. It really did scare you with how easily he’d been saying that lately. He wasn’t really an impulsive person, he usually thought everything through to the utmost detail and so his recent exclamations were worrying you. It’s not that you wouldn’t like to post one of the thousands of couple photos on your social media, it’s just you were worried about how toxic some netizens could be.

“Would it be so bad if everyone knew?” He pulled you closer, arms circling your waist as he pressed his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes with a little smile, wanting to play out his fantasy.

“Joon I’m not risking your career so we can go on a few dates.” You sighed, picking at his shirt at his chest where your hands laid.

“My fans will be happy to see me happy, baby.”

“Ugh let’s not argue about this right now. Do you like your surprise?” You put your arms around his neck as you peck his lips.

“Only if I get to enjoy it with you.”

“Yes yes I guess I’ll go see one of my favourite rappers with you.”

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing his lips to yours to kiss you gently. You returned it equally gently, getting lost in the warmth as he molded his lips to yours, tilting his head to get a better angle and squeezing your ass as he brought you even closer in his embrace. Before things could get heated, you pulled away, smiling as he followed your lips, eyes still closed. You pecked his lips a few times before moving away completely.

“Hey don’t let me distract you. Practice!” 

“You’re such a tease. Meanie.” He pouted as you walked away with a wave in his direction, smirking at his petulance. 

“Love you too Joonie!”

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

Namjoon was drunk. He promised himself at the beginning of the party that he would stay sober to ensure his first party with you went seamlessly, but then the Ilsan boys showed up. The Ilsan boys were his high school friends, dubbed so by you. To say you liked them would be a stretch, since he always got too drunk when they were around, but he couldn’t help it. They made him forget all about being an idol and let loose. They were some of the few people beside you and his family that had that effect. Sitting on the couch that was pulled up to the window, he felt the alcohol race through his veins, and he was in his feelings. Beside him, Harry talked to Sehun, one third of the Ilsan boys as they talked about some tv show. He was happy, so happy he was smiling to himself as he rocked his feet on the ground, a beer in hand. He was happy and as he watched you across the room, he was also a little annoyed.

You were talking to Kang, another one of the Ilsan boys, as Jungkook stood with his arms on top of your head for support and Hoseok laughed at some joke you made. Before the party the two of you had decided not to be the couple that only hung out with each other, and since this party was literally just your closest friends, it was not that hard to do. But right now all Namjoon wanted to do was be petty and shove Jungkook off of you, wrap his arms around you instead and tell you how horny your skinny jeans were making him. Alright, correction. Namjoon was drunk, happy, and horny. 

He bit his lip as he followed your curves with his eyes, watching the way your chest rose as you laughed, and the way your throat moved with each sip of your whiskey. Okay, that’s it. Screw the decision, he was walking over. Plus, he had stayed away for the past three hours, even had to watch you belt out his favourite My Chemical Romance song as you wiggled your butt, that had to count for something. He made his way to your little group, swaying a little as he shoved Jungkook a little too aggressively off you, making him protest over his spilled beer, before putting an arm possessively over your shoulder. He grinned as you leaned in, continuing your conversation.

“As I was saying there is no way Y/N is a sub. No fucking way!” Kang bellowed from where he stood. Namjoon’s brows furrowed at his comment. Why was he talking about his girlfriend this way? He felt an irrational surge of anger through him. He knew Kang was crass, his talks often devolving to his sex capades a few shots in, but did he really not respect Namjoon enough to be talking this shit in his own home about his girlfriend during their housewarming party?

Namjoon’s grip tightened around you protectively as Kang kept talking about your sex life. You only hummed, seemingly bored as you drank. Turns out you were playing a game, instigated by Kang of course, where you had to guess the other person’s kink, and if someone guesses correctly, you drink if not then the guesser drinks. Apparently you were in the spotlight for the moment.

Namjoon tilted his head, eyes narrowed at his childhood friend and raised an eyebrow. Kang, luckily for him, got the hint, shutting up with an apologetic glance at Namjoon. However, everyone else in the little group seemed to have missed this little interaction.

“I don’t know… I’ve seen hyung’s porn collection. He definitely has a daddy kink.” Jungkook scratched his chin as he slurred out the words, like he was trying to decipher a difficult math problem. 

“Dude Y/N would rather puke than call Namjoonie daddy.” Hoseok laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you with a knowing smirk. You laughed, a little too hard in your tipsy state, and Namjoon felt his blood run cold. You had definitely said those words to him, even pretended to jokingly gag when he brought it up the first, and only, time. He stood straighter at Hoseok’s comment. Had you told him about this? Why would you tell Hoseok of all people? You weren’t even close! 

His jaw ticked as the group laughed, oblivious to the sudden hurt he felt. He felt exposed, naked and vulnerable, all because of you. He didn’t know if his feelings were elevated with the alcohol in his body, but he suddenly felt like he was losing all trust in you. You didn’t even seem phased, not noticing that his arm was no longer around you as you giggled at their antics.

“Okay. Time to reveal the winner!” You started, your arms wide and voice low as Jungkook used Hoseok’s chest as a makeshift drum, tapping at it lightly in a drumroll.

“Nope.” Namjoon couldn’t help but cut you off. There was no way you were sharing intimate details of your sex life with these idiots. He didn’t know how things worked in Canada, but here in his house he sure as hell was not hearing his friends talk about your kinks. He grabbed your wrist, taking the glass from your hand and placing it on the table before dragging you into the guest bathroom by the kitchen.

“Aww Joonie! Now I have to do three shots!” You pouted at him, oblivious to the storm brewing in his head.

“No.”

It was all he said before he crashed his lips to yours, taking your surprised yelp as an opportunity to roughly press his tongue to yours. He didn’t know what overcame him, he initially wanted to talk to you but something about the utter lack of remorse on your face snapped something in him. Oh those guys didn’t think you were a sub? He was going to prove them all wrong and make you beg for him while no one outside had a clue. It was his biggest turn on after all, to see you confidently striding through every room demanding respect and attention, only to turn into an obedient little girl for him.

He had been horny all night, rocking a semi every time he looked at you, and your little moans as you wrapped your arms around him now only made him harder. He kissed you with more force, removing your hands from around him and pinning them to the door behind you as his lips ventured down your neck to where your blouse started.

He let go of your hands, pleased to see them remain immobile against the door, and reached for your jeans, the same jeans that had been taunting him all evening. Kissing down your body, he pulled the jeans off your legs, turning you around roughly once you stepped out of them. With your ass in front of his face, he couldn’t help himself, biting at the flesh, smirking at your surprised yelp.

He stood up behind you, bending you over the sink. Pulling your shirt up and gripping your jaw, he placed the hem in your mouth. He kissed your neck, keeping his eyes on yours through the mirror as his hands pulled the cups of your bra down to grope you firmly. You didn’t know what had gotten into him suddenly, but you were not complaining, your shirt getting wet as did your panties. Wordlessly, he continued, his hands roaming your body to reach your heat where he didn’t hesitate to slide your panties to the side and thrust two fingers in, making you moan loudly at the sudden stretch. 

At your moan, his lustful eyes met yours as he increased his speed, the sound of your squelching pussy filling the air. Namjoon couldn’t help himself anymore, he needed to be inside you, teach you a lesson for being so oblivious to him. Unbuttoning his jeans, he released his dick, already dripping with precum at how turned on he was at the prospect of one of your friends knowing what was happening behind doors. Without a second thought, he lined himself up at your entrance to plunge himself right to the hilt. 

You moaned at the sudden aggressive move, your skin tingling with excitement to see your boyfriend this needy for you. Namjoon didn’t usually get this aggressive right off the bat, and his rare sexual desire made you heat up, mewling at the stretch. You braced yourself against the counter as you watched Namjoon’s face contorted in pleasure, his jaw tight as he rammed himself into you again and again, leaving your breathless and with your legs shaking.

“Fuck… I can’t believe we’re fucking in the bathroom… at our own party!” you moaned at a particularly hard thrust.

“That’s what you get for being such a fucking tease all night.” Namjoon leaned closer to speak in your ear, his chest molded to your back as one of his hands pulled your nipple while the other turned your head towards him, leaving sloppy wet kisses on your neck. You need more, needed to kiss him, needed his fingers on your clit, anything.

“Joonie…” you mewled, looking at him pleadingly.

“Ah don’t try to get all soft on me now baby.” He smacked your ass, aiming right where his bite mark was visible, making you preen. “Did you think you were funny telling Hobi how you gagged on my cock when I called myself daddy, hmm?” His hips moved hard, pushing you further into the sink, your walls clenching around him and you were sure your hips were going to bruise from where they slammed against the counter. Your skin was pebbling with goosebumps and you felt like you could feel every vein on his cock as he continued to move in you. With his hand on your jaw, he moved your face towards the mirror, enjoying the way your mouth was held open and eyes wide with want.

“Answer me baby. Did you like embarrassing me in front of our friends?” Namjoon knew he really shouldn’t bring his issues into the bedroom, especially when you allowed and trusted him with how you gave up control, but the concoction of hurt, anger and beer in his veins overrode his rationality. 

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you at his words, finally realizing what had gotten him so riled up. Making eye contact in the mirror, you couldn’t tell if this was all part of a scene he’d come up with or if he was serious. Before you could say anything, he spanked you again, his thrusts slowing, but somehow getting harder. Although you were concerned, you couldn’t deny how you could feel your orgasm rising, your walls tightening around him.

“Do you like seeing me get hurt in front of my friends?” He gritted out, his gaze darkened.

“H-hurt?” you stuttered, alarmed.

“Yeah baby, hurt. You think I like you sharing our secrets?” He was back at your neck, nipping the flesh and soothing it with his tongue. “You think I liked you and Hobi laughing at me, pretty girl?” he sneered, but you could see past it. Behind the lust in his eyes, he was actually hurt, his eyes glistening, and although you were enjoying this sudden, surprise sex, your needs could wait.

“Joon… fuck… yellow. Yellow.” You grunted, despite your body begging you to let him continue so you could cum. Suddenly Namjoon froze, pulling out. His eyes softened immediately with concern as he ran his hands up and down your arms to comfort you.

“Shitshitshit sorry! Was that too much? Too rough? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He spoke fast, trying to gauge your expression in the mirror.

“Are you okay? Are you actually mad about Hobi?” You turned around, cupping his face as you looked up at him. He sighed, biting his lip a couple of times and contemplating if he should talk about it now.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I just - it kinda fucked me up.” He averted your gaze, opting to look at the wall next to the two of you, and you felt your heart ache at his words. “Like I was pretty vulnerable when I shared that kink with you and I get it - it’s cliched and basic and you weren’t into it but I feel like you guys were laughing at me. I don’t like getting laughed at by my girlfriend behind my back with one of my best friends.” He looked at you towards the end of his statement, the fiery look back in his eyes. You knew he was mad, but truly he had no reason to be. In fact, thinking more about it made you sad that he would think that you would purposely kink shame him or laugh at him for any reason.

“I’m so sorry Joonie. It’s not even like that. I’m so sorry baby. Do you wanna talk about -” But before you could finish your sentence, he spun you around again.

“No.” He spoke firmly, lining himself once again, fully back into his dominant persona. “Much. Rather. Fuck. My. Frustrations. Out. Colour?” He punctuated each word with a snap of his hips, making you mewl, your earlier lost orgasm revving back up slowly.

“Green. Fuck Joon!” He bent you over further at your words, holding tightly to your hips as he fucked you.

“Tell me when you’re close, baby. You don’t get to cum tonight.” He spoke, his voice strained from his harsh movements. Oh, he must be really mad. Namjoon took pride in making you cum, often overstimulating you, but this was new. He’d never flat out denied you an orgasm before, and the thought made you want to cum even more.

“Joonie. I’m sorry. Please... fuck! You feel so good.” You mewled, looking at him with puppy eyes. You didn’t know how long you could hold your orgasm if he continued, the coil in your stomach tightening at his every move.

“No can do pretty girl you gotta learn your lesson.” He smirked, spanking your ass for good measure, the slap ricocheting through the walls of the small bathroom. You really hoped nobody needed to pee, glad that the music was pretty loud, you could almost sing along to the SHINEE track in the background.

“Please daddy?” You knew he was mad at you for this, but in your lust-addled, desperate mind you just wanted to do anything to please him.

“Fuck off! Don’t make me ban you from cumming all week.” He gritted out, almost panting with how fast he was going, chasing his own release as he spanked your ass twice. 

“God. Oh my god, Joon!” You felt him get sloppy, almost on the brink of your orgasm. Namjoon could feel you tighten impossibly hard, and with one last thrust he pulled out, stroking himself before cumming on your ass with a loud groan. You whined, your head on your arms as you felt your orgasm ebb away, your clit throbbing in need.

Namjoon leaned next to you, catching his breath, as he looked at your wrecked state, legs shaking, hair a mess, your tits hanging out of your bra.

“Did you cum?” he asked, stroking your hair as you looked up at him.

“No…” He kissed you at that, gently and quickly.

“Good girl. Now let’s clean you up, we have a party to host.” He buckled his pants, as he handed you some toilet paper, fixing your shirt, and once you cleaned up, helping you put your pants back on. He was still hurt, but weirdly sated. He knew it would take time for him to get over this, but he still felt lucky knowing that you’d understand as he watched you fix your makeup in the mirror.

“Joon, are you still mad?” You spoke after a few minutes, voice uncharacteristically meek, making Namjoon wish he waited till after the party was over, so he could tend to you properly after being so rough.

“A little. It’s just kind of stings right now.” He spoke after a few beats of contemplation leaning against the sink. When in other relationships, he got used to just saying he was fine, with you he felt that he could be honest even if it hurt, and although he still felt somewhat betrayed, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m sorry, truly. I swear it’s not what you think. We weren’t laughing at you, promise! I love you.” You looked at him with such sorrow that he almost felt stupid for having such feelings, wanting to pacify you, but he knew you’d hate it if he did so.

“Ah don’t make that face.” He pouted at you slightly, cupping your face in his hands.

“What face?” You ask, eyes wide, cheeks a little squished by his hands and he felt his heartbeat accelerate.

“That face! Makes me want to kiss you.” He whispered, before capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones.

“Joonie… baby, talk to me.” You pleaded, you hands on his, but he just leaned down to peck your forehead instead.

“Shh, yellow on this convo for now. Let’s just go back to the party. I love you too, pretty girl.” He smoothed your hair once again, before moving to the door. He paused at your lack of movement, turning around to see you frowning as you looked at him. He knew you wanted to talk it out, it was in your nature to solve problems immediately, but Namjoon needed time. If he talked about it now, he would probably get angry, or worse start crying. He needed to think things through. 

“Even when you’re mad?” you said quietly.

“Even when I’m mad. Now let’s go before anyone figures we’re missing.” He took your hand and walked you out, the party none the wiser of your little indiscretion. However, if anyone was paying attention, they would have noticed how off the mood was between the two of you, your smiles not reaching your eyes, and your cups always empty.

---------- 

You stared at the screen, the cursor blinking as you tried to put your thoughts together. This expansion into Japan was going to be the death of you. You had been working on the strategy for months now but nothing appealed to the board who never lost the opportunity to remind you of your age or lack thereof. With your combined shares Harry and you could technically override any of their decisions, but antagonizing the board further would only lead to more problems in the future so you just grinned and bore it. 

You had spent all day at the office trying to figure out the new strategy to beat out the competing company that already existed in Tokyo to get sufficient market share to make the expansion viable. Siwon had been kind enough to be your scribe while you word vomited at him but as you looked at the page now it made little sense. You were kind of embarrassed that he had to type out this bullshit.

Frustrated at your lack of progress, you looked at the clock, and reading the 11:34 pm displayed there with a grimace as you stood up to walk to the kitchenette on your floor. Starting a pot of coffee you talked to yourself as you fidgeted with the cups, stacking them this way and that. You kind of wished Harry would’ve stayed late tonight to talk through the strategy with you but apparently Jen had been pretty annoyed with all his late nights so you had no choice but to do it alone. You didn’t mind it as much usually, you enjoyed the silence of the empty building, enjoyed filling it with your favourite songs as you worked through your thoughts.

Tonight however you were pretty annoyed to be working late. After the party, Namjoon had spent Sunday sulking about, still refusing to talk out what you thought was a minor issue of miscommunication. If you were being honest, part of your frustrations tonight might be due to the fact that a part of your brain kept pestering you with the same thoughts. Mom was right, you moved in and look, already not talking to each other. If you can’t resolve this tiny fight, how will you have a future? He’s probably sick of you already.

Trying to practice your coping mechanisms, you let the thoughts pass through your head. They were just negative thoughts, they did not define you as a person, do not react to them. You took a deep breath, focusing instead on the task ahead.

As you walked to your desk with your third cup of coffee of the evening and thought about your business plans, you started resenting your board more and more. It was one thing to want a flawless strategy but they failed to understand that there was literally no strategy in the world that would be as risk averse as they wanted. They thought you too impulsive, too bull-headed to do something that was low risk. They had the audacity to think that you were building all the riskiest strategies on purpose when in reality to get the outcome you wanted there had to be an equal amount of risk to go with it. Sighing, you started typing your thoughts, bulleted, on the doc as your phone rang.

“Namjoon?” you asked as soon as you picked up the phone, a bit surprised that this is how he was choosing to break his pseudo silent treatment.

“Just called so you’re not startled.” You heard Namjoon twice, once in your speaker and once from right in front of you. Regardless of his efforts, you jumped in your seat to see him standing in front of you. Holding your hand on your heart, you looked up at your boyfriend standing over your desk in a matching pair of grey sweats and sweater, a black mask under his chin as he looked at you with amusement at your reaction. It never failed to endear him how you were easily startled at the smallest things. 

“Did you eat yet?” He asked as he leaned over the desk, his lips puckered. Sighing a yes, you kissed him, feeling your stress reduce at the touch, relieved that he seemed to be more open to communicating now.

“What brings you here?” You asked, reclining back in your seat as Namjoon pulled up a chair next to you.

“I just got done. Thought I’d pick you up.”

“How did you even know I was still here?”

“Boyfriend senses.” He winked, his arm resting on the back of his chair. You raised an eyebrow, skeptical, and really wishing he didn’t go all the way home to come back. “Fine. Siwon texted me. You know it’s bad form to worry your assistant so much he has to call your boyfriend for back up.”

“I’m sorry he texted you.” You leaned forward in your chair with a sheepish smile. Inside however, you were glad Siwon had given Namjoon a push to talk to you. Knowing Siwon you were sure it wasn’t a random concern but probably born out of your talk with him this morning.

He made a noise stating his displeasure at your apology and shaking his head, before reaching out to hold your hand where it lay on your lap. “So when’s this due?”

“Can we talk about Saturday night?” You answered his question with your own, dreading a mood swing, but impatient to explain your side and ease his worries. You really wanted things to go back to normal. Even though it had only been one day, you missed him. He had barely cuddled you in his sleep the last two nights, and you missed the intimacy, and as needy as it sounded in your head, you just wanted him to hold you.

He sighed deeply, leaving your hand to run his hands over his face. With his elbows on his knees, he hunched down, covering his face. He really should let you explain, but he was tired from practice and he didn’t know if he had the mental capacity to deal with an argument. “It’s okay. I’ll get over it.” 

“Please. Let me explain.” You stood from your chair squatting in front of him and pulling his hands away to make him look at you. With another sigh of resignation, Namjoon nodded for you to continue.

“Hoseok doesn’t know anything. He said that as a joke randomly.” You spoke carefully, watching Namjoon’s eyes widen as he frowned. “Honestly he’s been your friend for so long I just assumed you told him that’s why he was looking at me like that. You know I didn’t agree or disagree. I just laughed because of the memory.”

Namjoon felt like an idiot. It was such a simple explanation. He was kicking himself for not thinking about this earlier, for spending a whole day avoiding you. As he looked at the earnesty in your eyes, he wanted to go back in time and smack himself on the head for making you feel guilty over this non-issue.

“I’m a fucking asshole,” he groaned, covering his face as he rolled his chair away from you in shame. You stood, walking over to him before pulling his hands away yet again, sitting in his lap sideways. His hands instinctively went around your waist, making sure you didn’t slip off. 

“No I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed,” you whispered, frowning as you put your arms around his neck, playing with the hair on his nape.

“I’m such an idiot,” he sighed, rubbing his hand on your thigh, his touch sending a comforting warmth through you. “Also, I’m sorry for earlier.”

“For what?”

“Not letting you cum.” He looked so devastated, his lips pulled down by his guilt as he stared at you, that all you could do was giggle. It was silly that he thought some of the best sex you’d had was bad just because you didn’t cum.

“It’s fine you were in your dom persona.” You smoothed his hair as you kissed his cheek, making him shyly turn away from you, before he looked at you with a determination in his eyes.

“No it’s not fine. In all the research I’ve done one thing they always warned against was domming angry or like using it to resolve issues or punish your partner in a way they didn’t know what started the punishment, and I don’t know what came over me. I was mad and it was unfair of me to use our kinks against you.” He ranted, his frown getting deeper as his grip around you got tighter. With all his goofy antics around you usually, you forgot how serious Namjoon could get, and although the two of you had promised each other to be honest, it was still jarring to hear his rant. It meant he had been thinking about his actions and it bothered you that he was feeling guilty. When he stopped to take a breath, you brought his lips to yours, kissing him with all the affection you could muster. It wasn’t hard - showing him you loved him. In fact, it was the easiest thing to do, as you let your lips assure him and ease the storm in his head.

“I’m perfectly okay Joonie. It was hot.” You chuckled as you broke away and met his gaze filled with adoration. You felt lucky to have him in your life, and although this fight didn’t seem to have lasted that long, you missed him. Kissing him at midnight in your office, you felt content, your stress from the day melting away at his touch.

“Still. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you?” He said as he kissed you again. “Let’s go home, baby.” 

You stood and as you packed your stuff, he clung on to you, nuzzling your neck, equally missing your touch. Although you were headed home, you felt it in his arms already.

-

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[volleyball-dontknowher]

Weddings Headcanons- Daichi and Bokuto

WOrds: 2.3k 

Warnings: the honeymoon/first night parts get a NSFW but nothing really graphic or anything 

Characters: Bokuto and Daichi (seperate) 

A/N I WANT TO MAKE THIS A SERIES!!! Next I think I am going to finish doing the other captains (oikawa and kuroo)  before moving on to others so let me know what you think/ who you want to see!!

Daichi 

Who gets invited: Both of your friends and families, no extra co-workers or acquaintances because it is going to be for the two of you and you want to know everyone there on a personal level and it ends up being a very heartwarming gathering

Walking down the aisle: Suga is Daichi’s best man and next to him is Asahi because they all stayed in touch after high school and they all play really important parts in each other’s lives. The bridal party is all wearing very class colors, probably something blue and they all look stunning and are beaming at you as you walk down the aisle. You can tell that Daichi has already cried some by the way his eyes are a little bit puffy when you first see him but he ends up keeping it together really well when you walk down the aisle and smiles at you very sweetly, it is very traditional where he hasn’t seen you before this and he can’t help the tears that start to form when you say your I do’s. Daichi had a good say in a lot of things but let you choose the things that mattered to you, he did insist that you had one set of white daisies because for your first valentines day there were no roses left anywhere, only daises, so he went to get you a set of daisies and they only had white so that’s what you got that year and every year after that, it was a dumb tradition but you both loved it a lot because it was unique to the two of you and it made you both laugh thinking about it every time because he was so panicked because it was the first one. He also took over whenever you would get stressed so some of the decisions you have no idea what he chose until oyu got there that day. Daichi also took full control of the honeymoon and barely told you were you would be, let alone any of the details. 

First dance: Perfect by Ed Sheeran 

Daichi chose this song and told you it would be a surprise for your wedding day and when it came on you both got really emotional and you couldn’t help but tear up while smiling at him because he was so handsome and so perfect and he knew that this song made you emotional anyway so it was just so perfect and he had taken a few basic dance classes so the two of you were able to dance around the floor together and he was smiling at you the whole time and he gave you a few kisses as he told you that he loved you Mrs. Sawamura and it was a beautiful moment that you will never forget  

The reception: It is a lot of talking with people that you know and playing catch up in the lives of the people who live far away and you both end up smiling until it hurts and you can’t help but enjoy every second of it. Daichi invited the volleyball boys and they were all super sweet to the two of you and you can tell that some of them got emotional as well seeing the person that they looked up to getting married to someone that he loves and they immediately start calling you mom too (they still call suga mom no worries) but it is all very sweet. The two of you only have a few drinks because neither of you wants to forget anything that happens today. The send-off is super sweet, everyone lines up and has sparklers and you both run through before getting into the car and going straight to the airport. 

The honeymoon/wedding night: The two of you go to a cozy lodge up in a mountain and the view is absolutely incredible and you are both absolutely in love. Before you can enter your honeymoon Daichi stops you and pulls you into a sweet kiss and tells you that he loves you and that this is the beginning to your forever and you can’t help but squeal and pull him into a loving kiss. The two of you explore your cabin and end up making your way to the bedroom as the last spot, you stand there in awe of the beautiful wall of windows and you press yourself up against Daichi and mumble “it’s perfect” before he pulls you into a heated kiss. This ends with the two of you practically naked on the bed whispering “I love you’s” back and forth as you both appreciate each other’s bodies and the deep connection between the two of you. Daichi takes his time with you that night and ends up fingering you out and eating you out, causing you to orgasm twice, before he even starts anything for himself. The whole time he is telling you how much he loves you and how you are the woman meant for him and how much you mean to him and the sex is super emotional and sweet and afterward, you both lay in each other’s arms kissing each other happily and sweetly. The rest of the honeymoon is spent in a similar fashion, the two of you go out and explore the mountain or go skiing but you always come back and have the sweetest sex you two have ever had and you can’t help but look into his eyes and just feel loved. The adventures you went on were absolutely amazing, you went on the railway through the mountains, tried amazing home-style restaurants, went to couples spas, and really never left each other’s sides. (Everyone you passed ended up completely in love with the two of you and loved how in love you both looked and wished both of you the best wishes and good fortunes) You end up having sex in the hot tub, the shower, on the couch, on the bed, and even a quickie in the kitchen because you just can’t keep your hands off of each other. At one point during the honeymoon, you end up crying because you had never thought that love like this could be real and Daichi was right by you kissing you the whole time and told you that it was and he really did care for you with his whole heart. 

Bokuto 

Who gets invited: Bokuto wants your wedding to be a big celebration with everyone in your lives so you end up inviting a lot of people to your wedding and it ends up being a really full and fun celebration and even the people who are only close with one of you ends up having a great time. 

Walking down the aisle: Walking down the aisle Bokuto has already seen you to take pictures (he cried twice during pictures because he was so nervous, excited, and happy) but now that you were actually at the wedding walking down the aisle he was literally crying so much because he never thought that he would be so happy and there you are literally walking towards him about to make promises that last a lifetime. Next to Bokuto is Akaashi and Tsukishima and they both have no idea how he has enough energy to cry this much but both find it very sweet that he cares this much and is so open with his emotions towards you and deep down they can’t wait until they meet someone who makes them that happy (like no kissing you are his lock screen, his go-to person to call when anything happens (which takes a lot of pressure off of Akaashi even though he is still called frequently) you come up in a lot of Boluto’s conversations and he thinks a lot more because he does things because he doesn’t want to accidentally make you mad) and they are all so happy for him and it is really sweet. Bokuto was also a lot more involved in planning it than most groom’s because he wants it to be something that the two of you do together and even if he doesn’t understand why you would choose out the colors of the napkins if it matters to you it matters to him so the whole g

First dance: A whole new world 

I feel like he has to have this as the song because it is the only song that he really knows off of the list you gave him and he ends up singing along and also bawling his eyes out because you are now his wife and he doesn’t know how to handle it and he loves to think that he is your prince charming and you are his queen. You try and how him some different things to do before this but he ends up just hugging you tight to him and just swaying there with you for three minutes as he looks at you with so much love that the people closest to you both get teary-eyed. 

Reception: 

The reception is filled with dancing and music and lots of good food, the two of you make your way around the guests together smiling and thanking everyone for coming. He gets super distracted and goes and talks to people for a long time and he ends up accidentally leaving you and you go find your family and friends on the other side of the venue and when he realizes that you aren’t by his side he goes back and finds you and wraps his arms around you from behind and gives you a big goofy smile and is all like hi babe and he joins in your conversation. You take pictures and talk to everyone before you both hit the dance floor and dance together for hours, your dance moves go from sweet dancing holding each other to going crazy and being wild like in the club and you interact with all of your guests and Bokuto pulls people onto the dance floor with you laughing and smiling with everyone. When it is time for the cake he definitely gives you the biggest smile and has a topper of the two of you together with a cake that is decorated to mean a lot to you and I cant see Bokuto having anything other than a really nice chocolate cake that is absolutely amazing and the two of you hand out pieces of cake to everyone smiling and laughing along with them. 

Honeymoon/first night: Oh my gosh the send-off is so cute everyone is lined up smiling at the two of you as you run through and get in a car straight to the airport. You two decided to take a cab to the airport and had your bags packed so your maid of honor/best man just put them in the trunk for you two and you were able to just go. The whole ride to the airport you both were making out and just laughing and smiling with each other unable to keep your hands off of each other. You ended up having a late-night flight so your first night technically was spent with you curled up in his lap sleeping on the plane with him and making your way early in the morning to a beautiful resort on the beach that was absolutely gorgeous, the two fo you went to beaches all the time for fun and this was going to be the best vacation ever, you had everything fun and exotic lined up to try for your week and a half stay and neither of you could be more excited, Bokuto is super excited and sweet as you take the cab to your resort and just points at places that you are going to go see and smiling at you excitedly. When you get to the resort Bokuto stops dead in his tracks outside of the door and tells you to hold up with a worried tone in your voice, you can’t help but ask what’s wrong when he picks you up and carries you bridal style through the door and goes to lay you on the bed before going back out and picking up your bags to carry in. The first time you two have sex after getting married is really sweet and passionate and Bokuto gets really emotional and almost cries because that’s when it really hit him that you are Mrs. Bokuto and he just loves the sound of that and will almost exclusively call you that for the rest of the trip. After the first sweet time, there is going to be a debate on whether you spent more time exploring the beach and going out or in the room having sex, for two nights after you went out you decided not to go to dinner, instead, you ordered food in and spent the whole night having sex and enjoying each other. During your honeymoon, his hands lingered longer and his gazes were loving and sweet every time he would start to please you and honestly when you got back you were exhausted because the two of you had so much sex that you barely slept,  the days were for fun and exploring and the nights were for exploring each other. It was perfect. 

Bonus: Bokuto wore a really nice suit that made his butt look so good that turned to the side on the altar everyone could see it so perfectly and you swear that was the main event and the biggest talk like oh my gosh he has such a big butt wow who knew Y/N is so lucky

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Falling (August Walker x Reader)

Summary: angel/demons AU. You’re tired of seeing humans destroying Father’s creation so you decide to help August Walker achieve his goals.

Author’s note: This one was written for the skype prompt.

@hnryycvll @witcherwritings @yoursecretsmutblog @toomanystoriessolittletime @penwieldingdreamer @onceiwasanun

Wordcount: 3790

Warnings: smut (rough sex)

Your nose crinkled with distaste as you walked the streets, making sure to keep enough distance between yourself and the other passersby. The last thing you wanted was one of these filthy humans touching your celestial skin.

Why did Father insist on sending you down to this cesspool of sins that was Earth to watch and report back? You would never understand, but you hated every minute. In your eyes, this generation of humanity was beyond redemption. Corrupted and dirty, only caring about profit and pleasure.

Hedonistic vermin!

They shouldn’t be allowed to exist and continue to taint Father’s creation. Millenia had passed and they have profaned every aspect of this planet. The air was putrid, the earth rotten, the rivers poisoned…

Everything that was once good and beautiful was slowly dying and still, Father refused to let you intervene. He granted humans free will for a reason and they needed to want to be saved.

As you watched them around you, the filth infesting every inch of what was once a paradise, you weren’t all that confident in their ability to repent and turn back to light. And even though Father forbade it, you decided you could just give a little nudge in the right direction. You weren’t disobeying per se, just… facilitating things. Speeding their opportunity to repent for their wrongs.

You took a seat at the coffee shop and to anyone who looked, you were nothing more than a simple tourist savoring some fresh coffee, one of the few things made by humans you actually enjoyed. The Eiffel Tower behind you, illuminated by the bright afternoon sun as you discreetly watched the man sitting three tables away, reading his newspaper.

To you, most humans look the same, varying only in the disgusting rotting of their souls, but even though August Walker had one of the darkest souls you had ever encountered, you could deny he was beautiful.

Tall and thick, his shoulders and torso broad and housing solid and well-defined muscles. His face looked almost as if sculpted in the best of marble, giving him sharp lines and features. His dark hair combed neatly, hid some of the wayward curls that would sometimes fall over his eyes whenever he was doing extraneous activities.

His lips, soft, plush, and pinked by the heat of his beverage, were shaped in a perfect cupid bow that widened beautifully when a stray smile crossed his features. A rare sign that made its apparition even more special. His eyes were the blue hue of deep ocean waters and probably just as cold, his gaze always calculating and assessing his surroundings, the superior intellect obvious in them.

Yes, it was undeniable that August was a fascinating specimen of human and if what you had seen of him in the last six months was any indication, he was just perfect for what you needed. A couple of years ago he had tried to detonate plutonium bombs in an attempt of forcing the world to see the light.

He understood that sometimes to archive peace, some bloodshed must happen. Death brought hope as paradoxical as that seemed. He nearly died in his endeavor, but it seemed to only strengthen his resolve and here he was, ready to try once again and you were more than willing to help.

You couldn’t bring the change yourself, that was against the rules, but it wasn’t uncommon to offer some divine inspiration to some selected few when a situation called for it and that was your plan. To offer August with a little guidance and protection to make sure he succeeded this time around.

Finishing your coffee and setting the money on the table, you stood from your seat intending to find a new advantage position to watch August. Maybe from one of the roofs of the buildings surrounding the café, but you only managed to walk a few streets before a solid body connected to yours, pushing you against the wall. You were so surprised by the audacity of this bug to touch you that you didn’t realize at first that it was August. Not until his mouth brushed against your ear, his breath ghosting your skin.

“Why are you following me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His grip on your arm tightened, tugging your wrist higher against your back and forcing your shoulder in an unnatural angle. He pressed you tighter against the wall, the rough brick surface scraping your cheek. If you were a human, it would be painful, but as it was, it was just annoying, and you had to close your eyes to hide the burning celestial fire in them.

“Don’t make me ask again. I’d hate to damage that pretty face.”

You took a deep breath, containing your fury before you dared to open your eyes, glancing sideways to catch a glimpse of August.

“I’m a free agent, much like yourself and I’ve been following you because I think we can help each other.”

“Is that right?” he snorted but let go of your arm, allowing you to turn around and face him, but didn’t step away. Instead, he caged you in, strong arms at each side of your head as he looked down at you, his eyes piercing as he weighed your words. “And how is that?”

For a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to reply. Now that you were this close, you could detect this strange, but familiar lingering smell. Something that reminded you of home but diluted and disguised by the bouquet of scents of metal and gunpowder, and sin that whiffed off August. Yet, that sweetness was undeniable, like fresh rain in the morning, clean and pure and suddenly you knew why August was so appealing, unlike all the other humans. He wasn’t a human at all.

“Oh.” You breathed out dumbly as you looked at him, noticing the realization coloring his eyes pitch black as his lips drew into a smirk.

“Does Daddy know you’re down here in the slums?”

“What do you think?” This time, you didn’t bother to hide your flames, pushing against August, but it only made him hold you tighter against the wall.

“And you say we can help each other?” he said, one perfect eyebrow raised. “Isn’t protecting humanity the gist of your job description?”

“I’ll be protecting them…” you replied, cocking your head to the side to look at him. “Giving future generations a chance to be better. There cannot be peace without suffering. Isn’t that what you say?”

For a moment, you just stared at each other, sizing one up, making sure if you could trust one another. You were natural enemies after all. You, a celestial angel. Him, a fallen one turned to a demon.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked.

“If the species die, game over,” he replied, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips and you couldn’t help but follow the motion. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

“Then like I said, we can help each other.” August just nodded, seemingly convinced, but not even remotely inclined to let you go.

“You know what can happen to you if He finds out?” August cast his gaze upwards and you nodded.

“I’m doing His work. Even if He can’t see it.”

Time ticked by slowly as the two of you stared at each other, assessing one another, trying to discover how far you could trust the other if you could trust at all. An angel and a demon working together? Unthinkable was the only thing that came to mind.

Finally, August let you go and against your better judgment, you actually missed his touch. How strange.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper handing it over to you. Hesitant, you glanced at it noticing a name scribbled down in neat and elegant handwriting.

“Who is this?”

“Someone in need of inspiration…” August smirked. “Of the divine kind.”

“Why?” Your thumb brushed over the letters of the name, touching the soft indentations the pen left behind.

“Now, now, birdie, you don’t expect me to just trust you, do you? Leaps of faith are your kind of deal, not mine. Do this and maybe I’ll consider telling you the rest.”

Again, you stared at each other. You hated that tilt of his perfect lips and the dancing glow of wickedness in his eyes. The way they seem to mock you. You wanted to wipe them away somehow. With your fist. Or your lips.

Instead, you unfolded your wings, making August jump back startled as the strong bones and muscles stretched wide, the pearly white feathers glowing in the sun like bright diamonds, blinding and beautiful. You could see the awe in his eyes, and it was your time to smirk as you offered him a hand.

“How long has it been since you flew, August?”

“A few eons,” he stepped closer to you, ignoring your hand and circling your waist with his arms, his embrace tight, his fingers sneaking under your clothing, exploring the juncture of feather and flesh and you couldn’t hide the shiver that ran through your back.

You wrapped your arms around his strong neck, fingers threading through the soft curls on his nape before you looked up, bending your knees and canting your wings so you could take flight with August’s body pressed against yours.

It was a short journey from where you met August to the man’s apartment and you landed on the balcony with a soft thud, both of you cloaked from view by your powers as you walked into the cluttered flat that reeked of chemicals.

The man in question was perched on a stool, peering into a microscope, looking up periodically to make notations on his notepad, before his gaze returned to the equipment.

At each step you took closer to him, it almost felt like you were crossing a wall of his foul smell. It was rancid as if the man that hadn’t showered in days, mixed with the overly sweet and putrid stench of decaying food. You gagged a little and even August seemed bothered by the cloud of odor that stubbornly tried to cling to your skin.

He had better luck than you because he could keep a distance. You needed to move closer, your lips almost brushing against the man’s ear as you let out a heavy exhale, the air billowing from your nose and mouth a solace of purity against the filth.

You watched as the man breathed in deep, his eyes taking the familiar flick of flame, just a pale comparison of yours but his hand moved against the paper, drawing out incomprehensive formulas by instinct. Once he exhaled, his eyes cleared, his hand stopped, and he looked down in awe at his own work, scrambling to find his phone.

Watching over his shoulder you saw him browse through his contacts, finding the name Lark and sending him a short message:

Formula completed. The toxin will be ready in 12 hours.

As soon as he hit send, you heard a noise and turned to see August pulling out his own phone, his lips drawing into a smirk as he met your eyes. Now you knew his plans.

“Where will it be released?” you asked once the two of you left the chemist’s apartment and returned to the café where it all started. This time, sharing a table, the orange rays of sunset surrounding your both, and painting a gorgeous view, reminding once more why you were doing this.

“In every major city of first world countries.” There was a quiet detachment in August’s voice as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “It kills fast and spreads even faster. The economy will crumble in weeks. They’ll have to build it up from the ground. The trial run will be tonight. Here.”

You swirled the black liquid in your cup, watching the spirals forming like a tiny tornado. You did not regret your actions, but there was deep sorrow for the consequences, not because of the humans but because you knew how this would pain Father. He was strangely attached to these vermin that walked the Earth.

“Then it’s done.” You raised to your feet, shielding your eyes with sunglasses. “Our association ends here.”

“Doesn’t have to,” August spoke, his blue eyes swimming with something you didn’t recognize as he raised himself from his own seat, coming to stand too close to you and offering you his hand. “We could… extend this partnership.”

You should turn around and walk away. The things his voice promised were too dangerous to contemplate and you shouldn’t be thinking about them or him. Your mission was done, and you should go back home. Wait for Father’s judgment of your deeds but what would be the point? To see the White City one last time? To be reminded of all you would lose for the rest of your existence? Prolong you suffering?

You took August’s offer, letting him guide you to his hotel. The room’s window panels overlooking the skyline and the lights of the city like twinkling stars in the night as you contemplated the view, imagining them as each one of the humans you were tasked to watch over, shining like little fireflies that soon would have their lights extinguished.

You felt August hovering behind you seconds before you saw his reflection on the window, the warmth of his body seductive and tempting you to just lie back against his chest. He handled you a glass of deep red wine, his thick fingers trailing over your arm as he pulled back, making you shiver.

“Why bother? Alcohol has no effect on us,” you said, tilting your head back to look at him and his lips drew into that familiar smirk.

“Because it tastes good.” He sipped from his drink, the liquid tinting his mouth of blood-red before August’s attention shifted somewhere else, his smirk widening. “It’s starting.”

You looked back out the window wishing you could see the beginning of the ruin. You wanted to walk among the dying pest, watch them desperately claiming the heavens for forgiveness. Maybe later, right now, the way August’s mouth pressed against your neck, soft and teasing as he tasted you demanded all of your attention.

“I never fucked an angel before,” he commented and you turned to watch him.

You had never been with a demon either. Or anyone for that matter. Neither had your vessel. They needed to be pure to contain the power of divinity. And soon enough, you wouldn’t be anything, your destiny beyond your sight might as well try it.

Stepping closer to August’s warmth, you let your free hand move over the soft fabric of his shirt, tracing the shapes of his chest as you watched his eyes, letting him know you accepted his offer. As soon as you did, his mouth was over yours in a hard, demanding kiss, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling closer and laying claim to your mouth.

You had never felt something this. Sure you could access the memories of your vessel and she had kissed before, quick little pecks on the lips or slow, timid kisses, but nothing with this searing passion and you could feel a fire starting deep inside you as August devoured your mouth, rough and biting, throwing his glass aside along with yours so he could touch all of you.

With his now free hand, he explored the plains of your lower back, cupping your ass until your pressed flush against him, feeling his hardness against your lower belly as he guided backward to the couch, taking a seat and just looking at you.

“Take those off,” he ordered, looking at you with dark eyes a certain hunger burning deep in them. You obeyed without a word, stripping for him and letting his gaze run over the small frame of your vessel. “So beautiful, birdie.”

You were surprised by the gentleness of his touch as he led you to his lap, making you straddle his thick legs, your center in full view for his pleasure. This time, when he caught you by your hair, he tugged your head back hard and your scalp burned slightly, making you whimper.

Teeth and lips attacked your neck and jaw leaving sharp, stinging bites and suckles that had you wincing and flinching despite the deep need taking hold inside you. How strange were humans? They possessed such soft flesh but enjoyed inflicting and receiving so much pain

His other hand cupped and squeezed your breasts, fingers pinching and pulling your nipples until you were arching and rocking against the bulge in his pants, steady flow of moans and incomprehensible pleas coming from your mouth almost against your will, your center hot, wet and throbbing as if summoning something to complete it.

“Let me see them,” August growled against your neck, his beard scratching your skin, leaving bright red marks to accompany the purple ones that were beginning to form.

You unfolded your wings, spreading them wide and they nearly occupied the entire length of the room. August ran his fingers over the feather covering the strong muscle, descending to the juncture of your back almost in awe.

“You’re going to miss them,” he said, meeting your eyes. “Sometimes, it will feel like they are there again and you can just soar free but when you look back, there’s nothing but burnt stumps.”

You let your hands move down his chest, undoing his buttons and pushing the dark shirt over his shoulders, but when your curious fingers moved down his shoulder blades, August caught your wrists, tightening to the point of pain before bringing them down to his lap and over his hard and pulsing shaft.

“If you want to touch something, touch this.”

You obeyed, rubbing him through his slacks, watching as August leaned his head back, lips drawn into a smug smile. Especially when you moved to your knees between his open legs, undoing his zipper and buttons so you could free his cock.

“Isn’t this a lovely sight?” his voice was laced with amusement as he looked at you. “How many demons have ever brought angels to their knees?”

“Don’t make me regret this,” you warned, hand exploring the thick hardness of his cock, feeling the skin velvety and hot, the veins pulsing as you stroked him.

“A little too late for that, birdie,” August scoffed, grabbing you by the hair and tugging hard enough to bring tears to your eyes as he pushed his length past your lips, making you choke. “You have already sinned, might as well enjoy the ride.”

He used your mouth to his pleasure, shoving his cock down your throat until you were gagging and spluttering, unable to breathe. Strangely enough, his treatment of you seemed to only ignite the burning heat inside you, making you moan and tremble, your arousal running down your thighs as you pressed them together to relieve some of the burning emptiness of your cunt.

This shouldn’t feel this good. It was like every second that passed, August’s touches became scorched in your skin, vibrant and bright, making that exhilarating fire run through your veins, urging your body to welcome his claim, receive his thrusts like they were the bridge to your new paradise. His grunts and growls, your heavenly music.

You nearly cried when he pulled back from your mouth, the only connection between you two became the string of spit and precum clear under the iridescent lights of the room.

“You enjoyed that, birdie?” he asked with a smirk, bending down to kiss you as he brought you back to his lap, his cock hard and twitching against your waiting cunt. “You enjoy how I use you?”

“Yes.” You confessed, sighing as his rough fingertips trailed up your thigh, finding your soaked center to play and explore. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” August declared pushing two fingers inside you, making you hiss and buck, pleasure like sharp shards cutting you open against your will, revealing that hidden need within. “So fucking tight.”

There was nothing gentle about his touch. It wasn’t about you or your pleasure. That was an unintended consequence that you embraced and succumbed to, rolling your body against the fingers penetrating you, his thumb rubbing and swirling your clit to make you wide and wet enough for him.

As August felt satisfied with his preparation, he pulled his fingers back, making you whimper at the loss but soon enough he was guiding your hips up, lining you with his cock and pushing inside you, making you nearly scream as he invaded you so deeply, not stopping until he was sheathed completely inside you.

“Feels perfect, love,” he grinned, licking the salt of your stray tears from your cheeks before he kissed your eyes and smacked your ass to make you move.

You started slowly, grinding on his lap and sending sparks of pleasure up both of your spines. You could see August’s smile widening at the thrill of your walls hugging and squeezing him as you rolled your hips, dragging out the feel of his thick cock pressing against your walls.

Soon, you picked up your pace, lifting yourself with the help of his hands on your hips and bouncing down on his cock. Never in your existence, you had felt this full and completed. Never you felt your body burn with such bright heat, sweat slicking down your skin as wave after wave of unimaginable bliss surged through you as if you were a little, fragile boat trying to endure a storm that threatened to claim you.

The faster you moved, the faster the feeling grew, and it became almost like a tide once August started meeting your movements, thrusting up every time you bounced down in perfect synchronicity. Before you were ready, you were swallowed by pleasure, the fire inside you erupted and consumed you.

You arched and cried out to the skies, your vision blacking out and the heat spreading. You felt it devouring your wings and the searing pain mingled with your ecstasy, occupying every inch of your conscience.

Through all, August didn’t stop moving, didn’t stop thrusting into you as if his pleasure only increased from your own disgrace and it wasn’t until your wings were completely consumed that he finally stilled beneath you, spilling his seed hot and thick inside you, his groans muffled against the crook of your neck.

“Welcome to the fallen, birdie,” his whispered once he caught his breath, his kisses against you jaw almost caring. “You’re one of us now.”

xxx

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[imbeccablee]

HAPPY BIRTH TO OUR LITTLE GREEN FERAL BOI-HC about how his birthday were when he was younger compared to now? (bonus points for Mama Inko being the only constant and for steadily more and more people being at his parties and deku having no idea how to deal with so many people who love him)

oh you KNOW I'm here for that Izuku angst!!! (sorry this is late, I didnt see this until yesterday night lmao)

before Izuku was diagnosed, he would invite katsuki and those other boys over after daycare. it would always be a little awkward bc technically those other boys are more katsuki's friends than Izuku's but their parents made them go anyway bc it was the nice thing to do

oftentimes the rest of the party would end up with the boys playing with Izuku's new toys (which made him a lil upset but his mom says he should share and not be selfish and besides, these are his friends, he wants them to like him, so its whatever. it is) and also playing Heroes (this is the one of the few times Izuku is allowed to play a hero with katsuki (bc theres no way in heck katsuki would play a villain) and Izuku LIVES for it)

usually the other boys will leave and katsuki will spend the night. this is always the best part for Izuku because, while katsuki does keep showing off, it's almost softer in a way, like the fact that it's just the two of them, alone, with the rest of the world shut out makes katsuki relax and unwind. izuku doesnt understand why katsuki isnt like this all the time. he doesnt know how to ask, either.

this of course ends with his fifth birthday. the months following his fourth, he eagerly awaits the arrival of his quirk, but it never shows. a week after his fifth birthday (which had been even more awkward and embarrassing since his quirk still hadn't manifested), he is diagnosed. and, well, nobody wanted to go to his party after that.

the kids thought he was weird and lame and the parents were afraid their own kids would hurt him somehow if they were to come over, because they all believed the quirkless to be weak and fragile. this of course also meant that none of the kids were allowed to invite him over to their parties, the only exception being katsuki's. and then katsuki fell off a log into a shallow river and izuku tried to help him up and, well.

he still invites people, oh yes. the first few years, he makes little invitation cards drawn in all might colors and an enthusiastic "you're invited!" on the front. inko, the sweetheart, helps put them in envelopes and carefully stored them in Izuku's backpack and Izuku passes them out. the first time no one shows, izuku is devastated. the second time, after yet another year of being downgraded and belittled and beaten and ignored, he is still devastated, but he is not surprised. the third time, it aches and aches and aches, and he decides he's not going to make cards anymore. it's just a waste of time and paper.

inko tried so very hard. those first few birthdays After were completely unsalvageable, but after the third (when Izuku accepted no one would come) they got better. izuku was still sad and inko was still guilty, but they always had a lovely time with katsudon and cake and all might specials. sometimes, his dad would even remember to call and wish him a happy birthday. izuku was- well, not happy, but content. he had his mother. he had his conviction, his dream. what else could he need?

(he steadfastly ignored the longing, the ache. nothing he could do would fix it so there was no point in dwelling on it. it was stupid to feel that way anyway. his birthday was just another day of the week, the month, the year. it didnt matter. he shouldnt feel so bad about it. it didnt matter)

he didn't even think about telling all might his birthday. by the time he was 14 going on 15, he didnt really care about it. it had just been a day he got a gift or two from his mother, his favorite dinner, and a night spent rewatching all might documentaries or movies or interviews. you know, like basically every night, but like, older this time. so he doesnt mention it and all might never brought it up, so his 15th birthday comes and goes like every other birthday did after his 8th.

the truth of the matter was all might figured Izuku would mention it at some point during his training, like offhandedly saying he had to get home early so he could have a celebration, or make small talk about what he'd gotten, or even ask for the day off. but Izuku never did and all might felt too awkward to ask when it was (he didnt want to seem too eager to shower young Izuku with presents like something deep inside him begged for with a vengeance, even though he very much wanted to give Izuku literally anything he asked for. it is a troubling feeling), so all might just assumed his birthday hadn't come up yet.

then all might finally gets a look at Izuku's file, since all might is now a teacher, and sees 07/15/XXXX written and probably breaks the speed of sound with how quickly he calls izuku

"why didnt you tell me about your birthday!!" "wh- I mean- it's just not that big of a deal, I didnt think it was-" "NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL???"

he takes Izuku out to a very belated and nice birthday dinner and has to force an incredibly rare piece of decommissioned all might merch from his early days into Izuku's hands. despite his embarrassment and initial reluctance, that day is ranked in the top ten of his favorite days.

izuku doesnt learn his lesson, however, and neglects to tell his newly acquired friends about his date of birth. the only reason they find out is because all might, having been passing them by at the end of the school day, wished him a happy birthday.

"IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY????" "uraraka please its not a big deal-" "I have to disagree midoriya, today should be special!" "I mean, I dont think birthdays are all that important either" "THANK YOU todoroki"

(and then Izuku thinks for 2 seconds WHY Todoroki thinks birthdays are unimportant and gets sad again but we're not focusing on that rn)

ochako DEMANDS that they celebrate bc theres no way in hell she's allowing her best friend to go without a birthday celebration with friends, but Izuku insists that they at least wait until summer vacation starts in less than a week, especially since he cant just come home with three friends without telling his mom

ochakos like >:( for a second, but concedes bc that's fair and then she launches herself at Izuku and gives him a big ole hug and says "happy birthday!!!" izuku's all sputtering and blushing, and then he feels a hand on either arm and Iida and Todoroki give him warm smiles and wish the same and it takes a good five minutes for his face to calm down and for him to come out from behind his arms once Ochako releases him.

so he tells his mom that his friends want to come over to celebrate soon and inko is just like 😭😭😭😭😭 because FINALLY her boy has GOOD FRIENDS who want to CELEBRATE HIM and Izuku freaks out cuz his mom is crying but she waves him off and tells him to tell the dekusquad that they can come over on saturday and that they can spend the night and that they'll have a wonderful time!!!

izuku relays two-thirds of that information in their group chat and they all agree and then basically Izuku is dreading the weekend bc the few birthday parties he's had with his "friends" before hadn't been all that great (besides the sleepover part with katsuki, though their current animosity kinda makes the memories bittersweet), and like, while he knows objectively Ochako, iida, and Todoroki are Much Better than those boys from his childhood, he just doesnt have a good frame of reference for how these things go.

anyway, so Saturday comes around and Izuku is just listlessly lazing around while his mother finishes cooking ("let me help you mom-" "nuh uh, this is for YOUR celebration mister, you arent doing a THING today), and then theres an enthusiastic knock on his door, and when he goes and opens it his friends greet him with yet another cheer of "happy birthday deku/midoriya!!"

izuku smiles because its sweet even if he doesnt particularly care about birthdays, and invites them in. they set their presents on the table and Izuku's like "you didnt have to!!" and Ochako's like "NONSENSE" and Iida is like "how could we show up at your birthday celebration without presents???" and todoroki's like "any chance to spend endeavour's money on things he wouldnt like is a chance I will never not take" and Izuku is just like akdjajdhajsb when his mom finally comes and greets them

and like. it's nice. it's really really REALLY freaking nice. Izuku didnt realize how much he was actually missing having people with him in his home besides his mom until they were there. there's a wonderful warmth filling his chest as they all eat his mother's homemade katsudon and talk about school and how excited they are for the upcoming summer trip. and when heroes come up, they ask him about different quirks and how they work and what he thinks of this hero and that hero and the only time he's interrupted from his tangents is when he stops himself because he's embarrassed for talking for so long. and then they smile and prompt him some more, saying they love hearing him talk about the stuff that interests him, and can anyone really blame him for bursting into tears?

his friends are alarmed but his mom just smiles, tearing up herself, and she asks if he'd like a big hug, and he nods, face burning bright, and then they all gather him in a warm, enveloping embrace, and he wonders how in the hell he survived without this for so long?

he's so warm and loved and for the first time in forever he feels happy during his birthday celebration.

his 16th birthday party is so incredibly different from the parties he held before he was diagnosed and from the birthdays he spent with only his mother. he'd forgotten that feeling of being cared for by people who didnt need to, or rather he'd never really known it. there's a slight twinge that it took so long for him to learn this feeling, but it's completely overshadowed by the pure elation he feels at finally being able to breathe and relax and let himself be loved.

his friends still look concerned and they obviously have questions, but they dont pry as they all continue with the party. he opens their presents and cries again and then they watch a ton of hero movies and he cries a little more. iida worries he'll dehydrate himself and Ochako fuckin loses it and Todoroki has such a soft look on his face and GOD how has Izuku lived without friends? without THEM?

it's late when they turn in, with futons and mountains of pillows and blankets surrounding them on the living room floor. izuku is nestled between Ochako and Todoroki, and he stares at the ceiling as his friends doze around him. he can feel his heart beating in his chest and, with amusement, he feels his eyes watering again, but he blinks the tears away and whispers thickly, "hey guys?" once he gets sleepy questioning murmurs, he breathes in deeply and says, "thank you." in response Ochako and Todoroki schooch closer until they're cuddled on either arm and Izuku can see Iida doing the same on the other end of ochako. then Ochako mumbles, "anything for you, deku" to which the other two boys agree. and Izuku tries to not get choked up and fails again, but its okay, because its safe here and his friends are surrounding him with warmth and love and Izuku falls asleep happy.

(their second year they have another party, of course, but this one is bigger, with the whole class. it's in the dorm, which is fine bc he doesnt think his mom's apartment could hold all of them. it's just as wonderful as his 16th birthday. he managed to hold his tears back during nearly the entire thing, and the only reason he broke was because katsuki came up to him with a perfectly wrapped box, because everything katsuki does is perfect, and shoved it into his hands with a growled well wishes. katsuki yells at him and the class laughs good heartedly as he weeps, but Izuku is just focused on katsuki, who looks soft and relaxed and nearly identical to the version of him that Izuku saw so, so long ago. and as Izuku thanks him for the present and katsuki berates him cuz "you dont even know what it is yet you idiot open it already", izuku feels a new happiness bubbling up in him, because he's so incredibly glad katsuki has been able to heal as well)

[mirror-juliet]

Body paint-Lee Seoho {Smut}

Requested by Anon.

Im taggong @youneedapiratekink cause i can💙✨💙✨💙

I am so sorry this didn’t come out on time like it should have, i’ll admit i got a little lazy over the weekend. I hope the chapter makes up for it.

Thank you for requesting 

Tags: Body paint, rough sex if you squint, hand kink if you also squint. Art hoes. Unprotected sex. Wrap it before you tap it kiddo’s.

"Hey babe, can you hand me that brush?" Seoho asks but the question just goes through you as you focus on his beautiful hands, putting more pigment onto your page.

"Hey!" You shriek as he snatches the oil pastel in your hand.

"Can you hand me the brush to your right please?" He asks again, pointing to said brush.

"Only if you give me a kiss." You purse your lips, holding the brush close to your chest.

He easily takes the brush from you and continues his painting. You pout cause he still has your pastel on the other side of him.

"Seoho~" You whine, poking him on the forearm. "I need my pastel~~"

You keep pestering him until he yelps from you pulling his arm hair

"Pastel. now." You point at it and hold your hand out. He reaches down and licks it, immediately regretting it. He gets up from his chair and runs to the work sink, putting his mouth under the faucet.

You take this opportunity to grab the pastel, resuming your shading. "Can you come sit back down, i need to see if i should add something else."

He comes back over, sitting down and resuming his painting this time with a sour look on his face.

"Why are you even drawing my hands?" He gives you one of his hands, painting with the other.

"It's for school. What's it to you?" He pulls his hand back. "Well it is attached to me, so pretty it's important."

You scrunch your nose at him. "Why are you painting me?" He cracks a smile as he looks at his reference photo of you, nearly naked, only a translucent sheet covering you.

He thinks back to when he had Xion photograph you. He was so flustered and didn't know if he was being respectful towards the both of you, A fond memory in his eyes

"What's it to you?" He mocks your words, grinning wider as you smack his arm.

"I don't know what i'm going to do with it it when i'm done, i just wanted to paint you." He looks at you and kisses you lightly as he cups your face, getting paint on it.

You stand up to go rinse it off when he stops you by holding your hand. "Leave it, it's cute."

You sit back down and continue to do oil sketches of different parts of Seoho as he works on his painting.

You begin to loose yourself in your art, being pulled back out by said man.

"Your art is beautiful, but you need to take a break and eat something." He puts down a cheese, meat and fruit platter that you didn't realize he had gone to make.

You reluctantly put down your sketch book, knowing Seoho would make you eat one way or another.

The two of you talk about nonsense, mainly upcoming art projects and wish lists for what supplies you two would like in the studio.

The bell at the front of the studio sounds, making Seoho get up from his spot, allowing you to finish your slice of cheese and get back to your work.

You decide to make a piece with your own hand as a model, seeing as your favorite model was busy with his art shop. Not only was he a very talented artist, he made most of his living by restoring paintings, sometimes taking art commissions himself.

That's how you met Seoho, restoring paintings.

Your art class was learning about restoring paintings. The teacher had Seoho come in to teach a thing or two, as he was one of the most pleasing graduates from the college three years prior. He had taking a liking to you, paying more attention to your work throughout the week as he was teaching your class.

When he was getting ready to leave he had told you to stay behind, that was when he gave you his number to meet up for lunch sometime. A year has passed since then and you agree that was one of the best moves you've made.

A set of hands rubbing your shoulders alerts you to Seoho's presence.

"Do you have a new piece to work on?" You ask reluctantly, knowing he would ask you to leave the studio and back into the house, he had a thing for people not being around for the restoring process.

"No, Hwanwoong and Xion have to do another photo shoot for their major. Hwanwoong wants me to do a painting on you. Is that okay?" A spark sets off in your eyes, you whip around.

"Really?" You grab his hands in excitement, already pulling him off to the supply's

"I'm going to take that as a yes then." He laughs at you as you pull out the body paints.

"I don't know what i'm going to paint on you yet. Will you wait until i get a sketch down?" The sparkle in your eyes dim, allowing him to grab one of his many sketch pads.

He beckons you closer with his finger. He pulls you closer to him sitting at his drafting table, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you a long kiss to the lips.

"Do me a favor baby girl and go take a shower. The paint will stick better." You smile down on him. Giving him another kiss before slowly detaching yourself from him.

"I won't be long."

You quickly bounce inside his house that is attached to the shop, making your way to your shared bathroom.

In the shower, you take care to shave off your body hair, knowing it would show up on the camera's and make Seoho's work look messy.

When you get back to the studio, this time in a robe and with your hair in dutch braids, Seoho is setting up the air brush and brushes. You hug him from behind, slightly startling him.

"Do you want to set over there?" Seoho points to the stool now on a tarp, ready to catch any of the paint.

He walks back over to you, helping you remove your robe and applying the pasties for you, making you shiver at his cold touches.

"So are the boys still here?" You distract yourself from how gorgeous he looks while working.

"No, they went out for lunch. I told them i would call when i'm done painting. I don't think Xion would want to see you half naked again." He smiles at the last part.

"Wont he see have to see me half naked when he takes the photos?" The coldness of the primer makes you flinch.

"Yea, but he thinks the paint will make a difference. Hwan would probably enjoy it though." You both laugh at the Casanova of a friend.

You both fall into somewhat of silence, listening to the music that plays, and watching the older man as he focuses of the painting.

It's amazing to you how he could look so attractive while hair slightly covers his eyes.

He looks up to you, sharing your gaze until you blush hard and look away.

"You act like this is the first time i'm seeing your body like this." He brushes a dark purple color along your rib cage, sending goose bumps across your skin, not unnoticed by Seoho who only smirks.

You find yourself biting your lip more often, occasionally humming along to the songs that seem to only edge the uneasy feeling between your legs. Seoho doesn't help either by steadying his beautiful hands by laying them against your skin.

He crouches down to work dangerously close to your heat, even though there is a pasty covering you, you cant help but feel nervous he would figure out your situation.

Seoho surprises you by sparking up and placing hard, wet kisses to your lips; supporting your back so you wouldnt fall off the chair.Enticing small moans out of you

His other hand works on removing the stickers upon your breasts. You don't mind, actually helping him remove them, along with the one covering your heat.

You place a hand on his chest, pushing back to catch your breath. Seoho doesn't seem to have a problem with air, attacking your neck with kisses.

Another thing you loved about Seoho was that he was always very passionate and excited about your intimate moments. It surprised you at first, since he was five years older than you already. Though you weren't complaining.

He wraps your legs around his waist, picking you up and placing you on his drafting table. It was perfect in his opinion for eating you out, with the angle it was set at. The force of the placement makes you squeak.

He spreads your legs, flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe against your pussy.

"Seoho." You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He bends your legs, placing them against your stomach.

"Hold them for me?" He asks, smiling at you. You comply and take your thighs from him.

Seoho makes quick work of his fingers, placing two in your needy hole, scissoring.

His soft lips attach themselves to your clitoris and begins to suck.

Your moans fill the air along with you back arching towards him. "Ahhah...Nguah."

You let go of your legs, allowing them to almost snap shut against his head as he curls his long fingers inside, brushing against the core of nerves.

He holds open your legs with his elbows, allowing his free hand to play with your breasts once again.

"Seoho. Please, your fingers feel so good." You don't quite know what you're asking for, only that you want more of it.

Seoho seems to understand, he pumps his fingers faster, making your hips buck up into him.

"Wha-" You whine as he pulls his finger out, looking at the mess you've made of them. You inwardly cringe as he licks his fingers off.

He dips his head back down to make out with your lower lips.

"Mhhh. Baby~ You taste so good for me."

Seoho tries to go back down, to be stopped by your tugging of his hair.

"Nu uh. I want to feel you inside of me." You pout at him, making him grin once again.

"Your wish is my command darling~" Seoho places gentle kisses on your collar bone as he unbuckles his pants over you, turning you on further.

Getting impatient, you pull down his pants and boxers just enough for his member to spring out.

"Someone's impatient." Seoho says through a shit-eating grin. You just pull his head down into a heated kiss.

"Just fuck me already damni-Ah!" Seoho pushed himself in, setting a quickened pace, not allowing you a second to catch your bearings.

He grunts repeatedly in your ear, pulling the lobe in between his teeth. "Is this what you wanted? For me to fuck you on the table so hard you cant do anything but hang your mouth open like the dumb slut you are for my cock."

You cry out, He picks up his pace.

"How many nights did you get yourself off to the thought of me fucking you like this over a desk? You lusting over a teacher. You really are a teenager still."

Seoho pushes against your shoulders, digging them into the table that was sure to leave bruises against them tomorrow.

"Answer me Y/n." He slows his thrusts, making you shiver

"Every night you taught my class! I wanted you to bend me over the desk and fuck me! Please, god let me cum." You bucked your hips up into him to gain more friction.

"Only if you cum with me. Deal?"

"DEAL!" Seoho lets out a laugh that would sound hysterical to anyone else but you, he snaps his hips into your pelvic bone, now chasing his own release. The room begins to fill with the sweat, dirty sounds of skin on skin, paint acting as a makeshift lube and moans you both are producing.

"I-I'm....Gonna" A long moan escapes your lips, you dig your nails into his forearm that is still pinning you down.

"I know." He drags his slender finger across your clit, making your legs shake in pleasure, too much pleasure.

You see every color as a wave of heat and pleasure wash over your body, clamping down on Seoho hard enough to milk him to his orgasm. He nearly doesn't pull out in time to shoot four long strings of hot cum across your abdomen. The both of you stay like that for a few minutes, catching your breath.

"Did i fix your problem?" He asks in between pants, wiping his sweaty brow and smearing paint on his face.

"Yes." You try to wipe his face off, only to get more on him. The both of you ending up in laughs.

"We seriously need to clean up and start painting again." Seoho helps clean your stomach off and leads you to the shower to help wash each other off.

*****

The art and photoshoot ended up going spectacular, Hwanwoong loved photographing your body, Xion enjoyed the art his Hyung had created for them. And Seoho loved watching you get flustered everytime he would make a seductive glance at you.

Xion didn't freak out as much as he thought he would, maybe it was because he had seen you in much worse, rather less, or it might have been that he didn't have to have Seoho breathing down his back this time 'round.

******

"Hey, the pictures turned out great." Hwanwoong walks into the studio with a vanilla folder and Xion behind him.

"Yea, we got an A!" Xion beams, engulfing you in a hug. If only the poor boy knew what went on prior to those results.

(Pics not mine, cresit goes to owner)

[ajartemis007]

Jihara Aina desu (fic 1)

A mission together with Nanami Kento san and Gojo san. 

Aina's pov:

Ok, so here I am completely exhausted after today's rigorous study session. I finished my lectures early so instead of going back to Jujutsu High school I made the not-so-smart decision to study in the college library. Of course, my mobile notifications were on silent.. of course. Today I feel like the queen of bad decisions and what's more, I feel like the god of misfortunes just smiled on me as I open my notif panel to see a text from none other than Gojo Satoru.

"Called you about 7 times. Yes! 7, can you believe it?! But you didn't pick up. You better not be hanging out with anyone today, not that you have any friends apart from me 😆😉. We have a mission together finalyyyyy. You, me, and Nanamiiii 💃💃💃"

 I read the message twice before I decided to believe that it said Nanami. Nanami Kento san would rather lose a limb to a curse than be on a mission together with Gojo Satoru. He cant stand Gojo san's rancid vibes. Can't blame him, hanging out with Gojo san can be emotionally exhausting. Even for me, the demon of emotions. Fuck my life. Today was going to be a ride. And he forgot to mention the mission location.

I scroll a little to find Nanami san's message. Brief and to the point.

"Mission at Misamana Chemical Factory. The abandoned one not the new. See you at 5:30 pm. We will have to go in on our own if you show up late. See you there."

Misamana was a considerable distance from here and it was already 5:27 pm. I will have to take a cab. I hailed the first cab I saw and told the address as I tracked it with my phone GPS. Shit, 17 minutes more.

5:30 pm ~~~ Misamana Chemical Factory 

"She isn't here yet," Nanami Kento said as he tapped his foot on the concrete floor. The factory loomed above him, abandoned. A chemical factory infested with curses could be really bad. They were informed that the mission probably involved multiple grade 1 curses and a special grade cursed object. And that's why he was paired with the special grade sorcerer Jihara Aina. He felt great being on a mission with a reliable colleague. Jihara san was a bright 22-year-old, ready to tackle life head-on. He admired her. After everything, she had been through and didn't let anything deter her.

He looked forward to finishing this mission early and getting home in one piece until Gojo Satoru had jumped in the seat beside him shattering his daydreams.

He had chatted away about how excited he was as Nanami questioned his decision to keep sitting in the car instead of jumping off. What was he doing here?

Well, he got his answer immediately. "Aina chan hasn’t acknowledged the mission yet. So I came. I called her several times but she didn't pick up. Worry not though, we will see her. She will come." And then he had proceeded to munch on the strawberry crepe he had produced out of nowhere. Nanami sighed.

"Obviously she isn't here. She acknowledged the mission 3 minutes ago" Satoru chuckled. " It takes about 15 to 20 minutes from Tokyo institute to here, if she takes a cab that is"

Nanami sighed again. "Well then let's get going", and of course Satoru was more than ready.

 5 48 ~~ Misamana

Aina jumped out of the cab grabbing her shoulder bag. Uhhhh bringing her college stuff to a mission, what was she thinking. A change of clothes would have made sense, but this. She would have to stash it somewhere safe. If looks could kill she would be dead, the way her librarian had stared at her for returning the books late last time. Well, what if they disappeared? What a nightmare, she shuddered. She had already paid the cab off as she watched it take the turn and disappear around the corner. No wonder he had looked at her funny. A young girl wanting to be dropped off at an abandoned factory. She saw no sign of Ijichi's car. And no Satoru and no Nanami. She hated being late herself so she could sympathize with Nanami san.

She dropped her bag near a stack of concrete pipes and noticed how cold it was in this area. She stuck her hands in her hoody. Well fuck, wasn't this her favorite blue hoody? Bye-bye hoody. The fate of her clothes was always sealed when on missions. That's why she had started segregating clothes into - mission, college, and outing. Until missions had started being dropped on her unannounced, like here. A mission notification had been received to her at 5:15 pm, 15 minutes before the goddamn mission. She was sure this was done intentionally by one very annoying ( and infuriatingly handsome) man she knew.

She walked through the loosely hinged double doors as they swung shut behind her. The cursed energy could be felt standing here right at the entrance. She could see footprints on the dusty floor, two pairs. Hushh they were here alright. She would find them.

She walked on calmly checking room to room. An office area. The factory area must be way back. Abandoned computers and stacks of sheets. She didn't touch anything as a thick coat of dust sat on everything. This was her fifth room. Boxes and cartons stacked to the ceiling. This room was huge though. She panned her mobile flashlight scanning everything. She could feel a mass of cursed energy way back at the factory. The production area most probably.

As soon as she turned to make her way out a couple of boxes to her right fell off. She felt a surge of cursed energy and immediately panned the light and was surprised to find a whimpering doggo in the corner.

Aww, it was a wee pup scared and alone. And Aina was nothing if not a dog lover. She made her way carefully toot tooting to the pup. "Come here baby, good boy, here yuppp here"

The pup wouldn't move. But then a blast shook the factory. Dirt rained from the ceiling as Aina rushed forward to grab the pup.

What the fuck was that? She already knew. Gojo Satoru fucking blew something up. She has to get to the mass now as she feels it breaking into smaller masses and spreading in different directions. The curses were dispersing because of the blast. Shit.

She placed the pup gently in her huge hoody pocket as she ran towards the corridor connecting the office to the production area. A huge hallway and just as she saw the door to the production area, she stopped short as the ceiling rumbled and she jumped out of the way as a huge grade 1 curse borrowed through the ceiling and straight down into the floor. And what's more Nanami Kento was dangling from its huge wormlike body, his knife pierced into the curse's side.

"NANAMI SAN!" Aina screamed. And Nanami Kento plucked the weapon out of the curse's body but unable to make a purchase on the concrete floor was going to tumble into the dark void the curse had created in the floor. Aina lunged and caught his tie nearly choking him to death. He caught the concrete and climbed up violently coughing. 

"I am really sorry! Shit, are you okay? You look like you been having a tough time" how she managed to speak so much when she was just about to die was beyond him. Well, of course, she could see 10 seconds into the future but still, it gave her only 10 seconds to mentally prepare herself. "Fucking Gojo Satoru" he muttered under his breath. He had gone and blown something up. The thought hadn't even formed in his mind properly as another blast shook the factory.

"What the fuck?! That was too close!" Aina screamed this time. She had to cause she would go deaf if another blast happened. She was at the edge of this dark void and she could very well plummet to her death if the floors keep shaking like that.

None of them had paid attention to the filthy glass double doors at the end of the corridor though. They were fogging up with a nasty green gas and they burst open and Gojo Satoru ran out covering his face with his hand, jumped the dark void and grabbed the two kneeling figures in front of him, and dragged them to their feet.

"Get the fuck up and run the fuck out" he yelled "It's a poisonous gas." Well, that got their attention as it should have. Wide-eyed and breathless they ran for the exit. Satoru threw open the rusty double doors and they finally breathed in the fresh evening air.

All three of them gasped for air as they fell to their knees. Well, there goes this mission in flames Nanami thought as he snatched off his tie trying desperately to breathe. Aina was on her feet. "It's going to leak out," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "The gas. It's going to leak out"

Nanami didn't waste time forming a veil immediately around the factory. None of that gas was escaping into the evening city air. He would call the high school for an emergency immediately. They needed sorcerers who could specifically handle something like this. But first, he thought, let me just kill Gojo Satoru real quick.

Aina was already on it though. "What the fuck were those blasts? You blew something up!" She wasn't calm now. "Well, there was this huge grade 1 curse that rushed at me. So I blasted its head off but one of the chemical cylinders got caught in the blast and boom! But that one was empty so I thought all would be and obviously, they all should be. When the second curse rushed me and another cylinder exploded this green gas leaked out. I knew it was poison cause of the creepy color and then I just saw a special grade 1 slither away in a hole in the wall"

Great, Aina thought as if her day going wasn't bad enough. A special grade 1 after two grade 1 were already exorcised. This was a nest. Yes for sure they had been thrown into a nest of curses with a cursed object involved. She let out a short scream as something squirmed in her hoody. The pup jumped out and hid near a concrete pipe. She decided to let it be.

The mission had failed. A failed mission that too when it involved a grade 1 and not one but two special grade sorcerers AND the second one being Gojo fucking Satoru ( the God of Jujutsu world ) was embarrassing. Maybe the men would escape with a slap on their wrists but she won't. They would demote her this time for sure. Was she just going to sit here while those curses got stronger? She was a special grade dammit. If she couldn't bring this mission to success who could?

She could hear Nanami grabbing his mobile as she spun around to face the boys. "Ok wait Nanami san. Make that call and have them send the team to diffuse the gas but the mission isn't over yet. We have to get the cursed object and exorcise all the curses in this building. So much cursed energy at one place will only attract more curses making this problem a bigger mess."

Nanami listened intently, his finger hovering over the call button as Satoru took a seat on one of the collapsed concrete cylinders.

Aina had their complete attention so now here comes the crazy part where I nearly commit suicide, she thought. "I am going in to complete surveying this building. I can feel a mass of cursed energy in a single spot probably way back inside the factory"

"You aren't going inside. We just ran out because of the gas. No more reckless acts I am calling this mission off." Nanami said firmly as he pressed the call.

"No Nanami sa-"

"...yes send the squad as early as possible" Nanami sighed as he cut the call. He didn't tell them about the mission failure. "Listen," he said calmly " please don't push yourself to these impossible limits, Aina. You are a special grade you have already proved your worth. We all acknowledge you and what's more, you are so young, this isn't going to go become a suicide mission from a failed mission because I would rather have a failed mission than a comrade down." He had put a stop to this crazy conversation. Satoru gave out a long sigh as Aina turned to face the factory. The gas wasn't leaking into open-air yet which meant the factory still had pockets of breathable air which were slowly depleting as she stood here second-guessing herself like always. Nanami was right she would rather have a failed mission too. But the thing about proving her worth, not everybody acknowledged her especially not the elders.

Aina didn't care about the elders. But she cared about what her students saw when they looked at her. What Maki and Nobara saw when they saw Jihara Aina always hold her head high and never buckle no matter what the situation. She knew she could do this. Yes, it was hard but she wasn't a special grade for nothing.

'Nozomi' she spoke to her mind. 'How long?'

A sigh. 'A little over 5 minutes but cut it at 5, you always try to cut it close', Nozomi sighed.

Ok, so 5 minutes. No, a little over 5 so let's take 5 30

Ok ... ok you can do this.

Before any of her partners could react Jihara Aina broke into a run. "Stop!" Nanami yelled. Satoru gave a surprised laugh as he teleported right beside her. This shit always scares her. 

"Don't tell me..." he said.

"Yes I am going inside and I can do this I promise. I am going to get to the nest and smoke out the curses so you guys can finish them. Give me 7 minutes (hey! from Nozomi). If I don't get out in 7 minutes... "

Satoru raised an eyebrow at her. Nanami was running towards Aina but Satoru had made his decision as he stood in Nanami’s way to obstruct him.

"Have you two lost it?!" Nanami yelled behind Aina as she was pushing open the rusty double doors. 

"Nanami san I promise I will get back in one piece. Believe in me"

"You better," Nanami said. He knew he had fucked up when he had said those things to her. He knew she always tried to outdo herself and it wasn't for anyone else but her students. The little girls looked up to her and saw that everything was achievable if they put their hearts to it. He had to believe in her. Aina wasn't Haibara. Aina was... Aina. If someone could do this she could. Her demon blood provided her a shield from diseases, curses, and poison to some extent.

"She asked for 7 minutes but we both know she is lying," Satoru said calmly. This girl never stopped amusing him. He liked her, he liked her a lot.

"So what do we do now?" Nanami said. 

"Wipe up the curses that spill out and then I go in. Cause there's no way I am letting her have her way everytime."

Nanami almost swayed with relief. It was good when someone else did the adulting for him sometimes. He knew he could count on Gojo Satoru.

Inside ~~~

'7 minutes my ass!' Nozomi ranted. 'You get out in 5, do you hear me!' 

"Yessss. Now concentrate. As soon as we are inside the nest, switch off the cursed energy. I have to make myself vulnerable so the curses would follow. Okay?"

Phuhh.. the blond boy was right. This is a suicide mission.

Aina could see the green gas pooling at the next door as she ran straight for it. Her timer will begin now. A little over five minutes. She could do this and she will.

The gas hit her like a ton of rotten cabbages. It smelled horrible and she almost felt impossible breathing this in for 5 minutes. This was serious. This could kill her if she fucks up once, even half of once. She ran from the office to the production area passageway and saw the void on the floor. Ok, we jump this. She increased her speed as she took a leap of faith over the void and landed clean on the other end. She couldn't stop. Not now. The clock was ticking.

The glass double doors flung open as she put her weight against them and found herself on a metal walkway right above a dozen or so giant cylinders. Two of them were burst as Satoru had said. One empty and one spilling the gas even now. This factory wasn't abandoned after all. It had been in use recently by a bunch of good for nothing. Even the electricity was working as the chamber was lit up with flickering tube lights.

Halfway across the walkway, she saw a hole in the wall near the tiled floor at the far end of the room. She would have to jump down the walkway. She threw her legs off the walkway landing on a metal cylinder, a ringing echoing through the room and then rolled onto the floor. Not stopping for a second she rushed towards the hole. Towards the massed cursed energy, growing every second.

 Outside the factory ~~~~

Nanami and Satoru exorcised the curses that spilled out of the factory. All grade 2 or lower. What a waste. The real ones were in there but none of them could enter. Nanami sliced open the curses particularly viciously with his 7:3 technique because all he could think of was that he had let Jihara Aina run towards her apparent death. It had been just over a minute. Aina's massive cursed energy had successfully smoked out the weaker curses. But the stronger ones would stay and fight and all Aina had were a few minutes.

Satoru hovered 30 feet above him taking care of the open windows which would soon be leaking gas nevertheless. He wouldn't take off his concentration from Aina's cursed energy which was still in full swing meaning she hadn't reached the nest yet. He was growing restless.

Aina hesitated at the entrance to the tunnel just for a second as she realized what it really was. It was no fucking tunnel. It was a path burrowed by one of those worm curses but this one was bigger and stronger. A special grade 1. One of these suckers had to have absorbed the cursed object. If by any chance in hell of chances was there a special grade in there, she would have to fight to get out alive. But then Satoru wouldn't have let her go. He could see it all, that creep. But it reassured her, Gojo Satoru had her back.

As she ran through the tunnel, her knees nearly buckling with the cursed energy amassed in such a small space and the tunnel was narrowing. Well shit, there had to be other entrances. Now she was literally on her knees, exhausted and frustrated she was wasting precious time.

'How long?'

'2 30 remaining'

Wtf! half the time had already passed! Aina moved faster and thank the gods the tunnel grew back and she could run. If only had she stopped in time she wouldn't have plummeted 25 feet down crushing a couple of curse wombs. Curse goo crusted her fingers and knees as she tried to get up.

This was a huge cavern full of multiple holed entrances. The ceiling probably 100+ feet high. She was clearly below the factory. In a hell hole. Hurray!

All entrances lead here to the nest. The ground was covered with green mold coloured eggs the size of footballs. At least 3 dozen of them. The eggs weren't a problem, not yet. They would need a lot more cursed energy to grow. Only, some of them had hatched and were staring down at her, their heads 30+ feet high up in the air swaying menacingly. She could count at least six.

“Off my cursed energy” she said to Nozomi. 

'Aina get the fuck out of here. Something's approaching bigger than these motherfuckers.' The Sight (that allowed her to look 10 seconds into the future, especially clearly when it involved cursed energy). Yes, it was a special grade 1 alright. But not one, there were at least three of them approaching.

She had to get them all. Aina's heart had suddenly started beating too fast as if it was trying to fly out of her chest. She coughed violently spraying blood on her hoody sleeve. She wheezed to breathe.

'Get out, get out right now', Nozomi's words were ringing like bells in her ears. The cavern was huge, she could fight it out. But that would waste too much time she would die off inhaling too much poisonous gas. The walls rumbled. It felt like a freight train was approaching, fast... very fast. Few more seconds Aina thought. She would have to move as fast as she could while her cursed energy being off.

She almost had a heart attack as two massive worm curses spilled into the chamber. Huge and darker and much stronger they snapped at each other's head. As if they had come here to fight for food. But they stopped as they saw Aina in the corner covered with cursed egg goo she looked too much like a scared rabbit fallen in a box full of snakes.

Aina wasn't scared to die. She would if it comes to that. But this mission. She couldn't die here. Nanami would never forgive himself and Satoru, she couldn't think what he would feel. Would Satoru feel bad if I died?

'Stop thinking about that sorcerer!' Nozomi screamed with an ear-piercing screech. 'Get out! Move!'

 Aina could move. She had to. "Here!" She jumped as she shouted to get the curses' attention. "Yes, I am food. Come on, come and get me. I bet I am tasty too!" The worms moved with unbelievable speed for such huge creatures. Aina almost jumped out of her skin as she saw them come. She took the nearest open hole and ran through it as fast as she could. She could hear the curses behind her but they hadn't caught up. Why? Her cursed energy was off. She looked vulnerable. They should follow. If her energy had been on they would hesitate. They would be happy enough to just drive her out of the nest, they would never follow. They weren't following even now. Why....

She knew why as she landed back into the cavern again, looking at the creatures from a different angle this time. She was immediately behind them. She had taken the tunnel that circled back to the cavern. Not the one that leads outside. And where the fuck had she fallen in this hell hole from? No idea. She couldn't even think properly as her vision violently swung. Shit, the poison was taking hold already. How long had it been? 

'4 minutes. But it's affecting you faster because your cursed energy is off. You are as human as possible in this state. You don't really have 5 minutes.' Nozomi said calmly. Maybe not calmly but all Aina could hear was a distant voice of Nozomi's as her body threatened to lose consciousness.

She had to choose the right tunnel from these tunnel-ridden walls. One that leads outside into fresh air... into safety. Into Gojo Satoru's arms. She almost giggled at that. Fuck why was she having drunk thoughts? Was her body's coping mechanism failing?

Breathe. Breathe Aina. And think. Concentrate your senses. Even a normal human can find a way out with a breeze of air, noise of water, insects-  her thoughts were cut short as a special grade 1 spun to face her. She sprang into action as she ran straight between the two special grade 1s. Yes, she was right the cavern, though huge was still small for so many huge monsters to freely move around. A grade 1 blocked her path and snapped at her viciously as she jumped around breaking more eggs. That was certainly making them angry.

Another grade 1 charged her. If she didn't have the Sight working she would have lost her right half of the body. She had to take a tunnel. Had to be the right one. It cant be much higher cause the curses probably didn't want to land on their eggs while they fell into the cavern. So it must be near to the ground. Near for her to reach. As she runs across one tunnel to another, a breeze of air softly blew her hair out of her eyes.

Air. Opening. Outside. That tunnel right beside another grade 1. Aina lurched changing directions as fast as she could and was in the tunnel. It was a little bigger than the previous tunnel. She prayed to tunnel gods it didn't narrow down or she was as good as dead. She couldn't fight in tunnels even if she wanted to nor did she have enough time. Her body was already at its limit.

She ran as the worms gave a chase. The floor rumbled as they raced each other to get to her first. Suddenly the tunnel opened into a stalactite cave. Weird. 

Was she moving further down below the factory. Nope, no time to think. Her legs almost buckled below her. Only the adrenaline was kept her going. But for how long. The opposite cave wall had another tunnel. The only exit out of this cave. She ran. As the tunnel progressed it started slopping upwards ever so slightly making it harder to run but she was thankful she was getting near the surface.

Her hopes came crashing down as it ended in another cave that had caved in. It was dark as fuck already but her demon eyes could look around a little even as she swayed and coughed blood all over her soggy blue hoody. A cave-in. No place to run. But there had been a breeze.

'At your right, there's a sewage line tunnel. Move those legs, Aina!' Nozomi screeched. Only she had been screeching for far longer. But Aina's senses were deemed. That was bad, very bad. It was going to hit 5 minutes mark soon.

Aina saw the sewage line just in time as the tunnel almost burst with the worms chasing her down. The smaller ones looked injured as the bigger ones snapped at them to stay out of the way. Aina ran like her life depended on it because it did. To her horror, a grade 1 overtook her to the tunnel and swiftly turned around opening its mouth wide open.

Aina ducked and slipped through under the worm and kept running. She made a swift turn to her left and was overjoyed when she saw a circle of light.

She was almost stretching her hands towards it when she realized that it wasn't outside. It opened into a huge pipe pit where pipe water drained. And she was almost 50 feet above the ground. She couldn't even stop her, momentum kept her going as she approached the ledge. 

The pipe rumbled and she saw the creature's teeth catching the moon's light as they rushed towards her, their mouths wide open.

She jumped. Hitting the water almost 50 feet below. Water smacked her back to reality for a little longer. She felt more conscious. She could hear huge splashes behind her as the worms hit the water too. Her clothes completely soaked and her breathing labored, Aina looked around for a drainpipe opening. She saw four of them one at each wall. She rushed towards the nearest one and tried to pull the metal lid open. It wouldn't budge.

Her legs gave in as she coughed out more blood and kept pulling at the bars to somehow force them open. The pit was big enough for the worms to move around her. And in the moonlight, they looked more sinister than ever. Wet and hungry, they spiraled over one another, at least eight of them. Fear had started gripping Aina now making it harder to breathe. She pulled at the rungs as painful moans escaped her throat.

Turn on my cursed energy... turn it on. She thought. 'It's already on, Aina. It has been on past 15 seconds you fell in this hole' Nozomi said.

It's on? But I don't feel ...anything. No power, no inhuman strength... nothing.

'It's your conscious... body is giving up...fresh air', Nozomi's voice reached her like a call with bad reception. Aina kept tugging at the metal bars but the worms had waited enough. A special grade 1 caught her midsection sinking its teeth in her sides and it pulled her away from the lid with such force, it took the lid off with her. She could have seen it coming if she had been in her normal conditions. Her Sight could have saved her.

Aina spat out a mouthful of blood as she felt her cold soggy hoody fill with warmth, the warmth of her blood. The worm rose 20 feet high in the air as it decided to gulp down this morsel of a human being. The pain helped regain her footing as Aina grew her nails into talons and slashed at the creature. It didn't drop her. What's a little pain if your food is dripping its yummy juices right in your mouth...

But it released Aina as it tossed her into the air at least 20 more feet up and spread open its mouth below her waiting for her to fall right into it. A scream rose in Aina's throat as she looked down at her imminent death. She was going to fall right into that teeth pit and become a human-flavored chewing gum. Fear and pain worked excellently to show her the sight below a little too clearly than she would have liked. She was going to die and she was scared, very scared.

But she didn't fall into the worms's mouth as another special grade 1 snapped at the large worm pushing its mouth away from Aina. She fell back into the water. They were fighting over food, over her... oh how romantic.

She wasted no time panicking as she tried to run to the now open drainpipe, the lid lying right in front. Open. Freedom. Finally. She was 10 feet from the opening when she saw the third special grade 1 charging towards her from inside the pipe.

Yes, there had been three. She had counted three. She wasn't careful enough. She had been too stubborn to take this on herself and now she was food. Her death would be blamed on Satoru and Nanami. Satoru might even lose his job as a teacher. Nanami will resign. They would both be miserable. Her two best mates at JJK. And she never even told Gojo san what she felt about him. That he was an annoying bastard but she wouldn't have him any other way. She had wanted to be a part of Nanami's marriage more than anything. But here she was, in a drainage dump, seconds away from death.

 Outside ~~~~

Nanami looked at his watch. It was 5 minutes. She had asked 7 but they won't wait for 7. He won't wait for 7.

"Nanami" Satoru yelled. "All done here, are we?" Gojo Satoru had had enough. No more curses ran out after 3-minute mark. It had been 2 minutes of him waiting so Aina could make it out with the worms at her back. No worms so far and definitely no Aina.

She was very good at her work. He wanted more people like her to be a part of Jujutsu High. But even people like her got in tight situations. And he needed to have their backs.

Would it be too late to help Aina?

Inside ~~~~

The special grade 1 rushed towards her and Aina had frozen like a deer in headlights. Waiting to be run over. And the moment where one’s life flashes before their eyes... she didn’t have it.

The worms head exploded in as a ball of red energy hit it square in the face. The collision blew Aina off her feet and before she would strike the opposite wall she found her fall cushioned.

Well, she hadn't fallen at all. She was looking up at Gojo san's disheveled hair. His blindfold off as he grinned at the worms like a maniac.

And she was in his arms. Nothing would harm her here.

"Satoru", Aina sighed as her eyes almost got moist with tears.

"From Gojo san to Satoru, you must have taken quite a beating" Satoru grinned as Aina felt her cheeks flush. Well, she had taken a beating. Her clothes were torn and blood-soaked and she could barely stand as he had seen from above the pit opening. Satoru never wanted her to go to the factory while the gas leaked. He was sorry he had been reckless. She could have protected herself had she not been partially unconscious because of the gas.

Aina whimpered in pain and he could clearly feel the dentures in her flesh as he carried her as delicately as a glass figurine. She was healing. Her flesh patching up but the pain, the pain would remain till she was completely healed. And this made Satoru angry.

He wasn't losing her to a bunch of worms. Special grade 1 or whatever, he could stomp them with his feet and he would do just that. The worm heads blasted off one after another but none dropped the cursed object. Aina almost wanted to cry of disappointment. How was this possible? They had evolved which meant they had come in contact with the cursed object at some point. Some point today. Some point 10 to15 minutes ago.

"Ok, time to go," Gojo san said and he firmly held her now that her wounds had patched up. He placed back his blindfold as he looked down at her face. The disappointment in those eyes almost pierced his heart. They had completed the mission partially but that wouldn't make Aina happy. And he cared whether it made her happy or not. Cause when she was happy everyone around her was happy, even he.

 Outside~~~

Nanami was starting to lose it as he waited for his mission mates to emerge. Especially Aina. Nothing could kill Satoru. But Aina was just as reckless if not more when it came to her perfect records. She wouldn't have one dark spot on her records, not one failed mission. Why had he let her go? Why hadn't he chased her down and knocked some sense into that coconut head of hers?

Gojo Satoru's feet landed on the concrete floor gracefully. Nanami almost snapped around and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Aina in Satoru's arms. He let her down and she almost gasped with pain before forcing her mouth shut and breathing heavily. Nanami took her little form in and it broke his heart. Her clothes were torn at her sides like something huge had punctured her and no one could ever tell that hoody was blue. He couldn't either if he hadn't seen it being blue.

Aina gulped in the fresh air as she dropped her weight on the nearby concrete pipes. That's when the cold hit her and she pulled off her wet hoody. Nanami rushed to her side as he gave her his suit jacket cause she would freeze to death in her wet tank top otherwise. "You need a change of clothes. Do you have one?" He inquired.

"No", Aina sighed. She hadn't been expecting to be on a mission today. Her hands were wrinkled and parchment white and shook violently. Today had been too much for her. And for what? A failed mission. She wanted to roll into a ball, a ball of shame.

That's when she noticed the pup hiding beside her in the rubble of concrete whimpering and it almost sounded painful. Aina immediately forgot how miserable she was and she picked up the pup carefully and kept it in her lap. She petted it carefully. She would have continued had a surge of cursed energy not shook her core.

The pup bit her hand viciously, it would have taken a finger off if she hadn't shaken it. "It bit me!" She screeched. Black pus oozing out of the wound.

Both men were already alert. And all three of them stared as the pup, now a partial curse chocked on something trying to swallow it. Aina cursed herself. She had not been very smart today or she could have seen the unusual amount of cursed energy flowing through the 'pup'. She had sensed it and dismissed it as a side effect of being around grade 1 curses for too long.

This pup had swallowed the cursed object.

Nanami reached for his knife. 

"I got this" Satoru said with a grin as he blasted the pup off to smithereens. With a yelp, it was gone. And in that mess lay the box.

Of course, it was a special grade cursed object. It was a finger of Sukuna, still neatly packed in the little box. Had it directly touched any curses today they would be fighting against special grades. Satoru made the box levitate over his palm as he playfully chuckled "Nanami, catch!"

Nanami almost grossed out as the filth covered box touched his shirt, wrapped it in his handkerchief and pocketed it carefully. Aina felt a smile tugging at her lips and she gave out an amused laugh. She was sad for the pup but it hadn't suffered much as Satoru ended it’s suffering immediately.

Both men looked at Aina, parchment white and shivering and smiling and they couldn't help but smile and be happy. It was nice hanging around a happy curse of emotions.

They looked up just in time as three black cars made their way to the factory gate. Sorcerers... ones who knew what to do with the poison gas. Aina and Nanami sighed with relief. 

"Hello everyone! Leaving this mess off to you guys now. We are out" Satoru announced as he made gave his mission mates a happy pat on the back

"Good job guys. What a nice team we are. We should do this more often"

Synchronized groans from Aina and Nanami.

Aina and Satoru made their way to the car after Aina grabbed her book bag. Nanami stayed a second longer to pull off his veil after the other sorcerer's had set theirs.

"Okay! Congratulations on the successful completion of your mission and as your senpai, I am going to treat you both to some tasty food. What will you have Aina, Nanami?"

Aina wanted a bath before she touched anything she could eat and Nanami wanted a giant-sized glass of beer.

But at least someone was as happy as ever. What a menace Gojo Satoru was but Aina wouldn't have him any other way :)

[hotoffthepressfics]

Broke But Not Broken

MASTERLIST

Part I

Previous | Next

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,629

Summary: The Reader escapes a horrific past. She meets new friends, but will she be able to trust them?

Warnings: Angst, implied physical and sexual abuse.

Inspiration/Chapter Soundtrack:

“Broke But Not Broken” - Artist vs Poet

“All The King’s Horses” - Karmina

A/N: My first fic ever. Still not complete but I’m going to finish writing this out and post it before I post anything else. ❤️❤️❤️

The Greyhound bus lurches to a stop, the massive vehicle hissing as the brakes are released. You jolt awake grasping the cracked seat in front of you for balance. Panic laces itself around your heart as your sleep addled brain attempts to orient itself.

Where am I?

You glance up at the message board and watch as the destination slowly loops across the screen.

3765: Brooklyn, Smith St.

Okay, so you’d made it to... Brooklyn? Isn’t that the stop you’re supposed to get off at? You run shaky fingers over your mussed braid of hair. The tight denim skirt you are wearing didn’t have pockets so you had resorted to keeping the ticket in your bra.

Trying to discreetly pull it out, you pull the slightly crumpled ticket out and check the city name on it. Yes. Brooklyn.

Clenching the ticket in your hands you get up and stumble towards the front of the bus. You keep your head down low, walk down the steps and onto the dark street outside. You stall, unsure of what to do now. Other people getting off the bus try to move past you, some pausing to glare or give you disgruntled looks. One elderly man nudges you between the shoulder blades.

“Get a move on, girl!” He grouses.

Startled, you shuffle to the side and out of the way as the remaining passengers exit. There is a chill to the night air. You shiver and hug your arms close to your body. The short sleeved, rather revealing blouse did nothing to protect you from the elements. Neither did the skirt. The ill-fitting, borrowed sneakers you wear are beginning to pinch now that you are standing instead of sitting in the bus chair. You didn’t care. You were finally beginning to feel it.

Freedom.

You breathe in deeply, hold it in for a moment, and release it. The air reeks of motor oil, stale cigarette smoke, and urine. It should bother you as it probably would most people. You watch the passengers as they head off to the depot or parking lot, some meeting family you supposed, others alone.

You began to follow where most of the people went, walking apprehensively down the sidewalk and passed the depot. The noise of the buses rumbling and faint talking gave way to more urban sounds.

Cars drove by, brakes squealed, a police siren is either coming or going from where you are. You weren’t too sure. Someone was throwing trash out in an alley as you walk by, causing you to jump when something like glass broke once it hit the bottom of the dumpster.

You’re beginning to shiver again, although this time it wasn’t from the cold. You had initially been elated stepping off that bus. However, getting on and off that bus had been your only goal in the wee hours that morning. You had left with two hundred dollars, now a little less than that after purchasing the bus fare.

You had no idea where to go from here or where to stay. You were safe only in the sense that you were miles away from where you ever wanted to be again.

There came a faint sound of a woman laughing. You lift your head up and see a small cluster of women, all in various revealing apparel, watching disinterested as cars pull up to the curb. You halt as one of them came up to a sedan and stuck her head in to talk to the driver. They had a short exchange and then she opens the passenger door and gets in. The sedan drove off with its newest occupant. You falter, attempting to decide if you should continue walking ahead towards them as you were doing or to turn and go another direction.

In your contemplation you didn’t hear the man’s foot falls coming up behind you.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How much to spend the night here with yours truly?” The man sidles up to you and snakes his arm around you middle.

You squeak and try to shove him off. In your attempts to extract yourself the man adjusts you in his arms until your facing him.

“Aw c’mon babe. I ain’t gonna bite ya... much.” He winks and guffaws, the acrid scent of beer and halitosis making you want to gag.

Balding and sporting about a day’s worth of beard growth the man gives you a particularly nasty, yellowed, toothy grin. He’s a good foot and a half taller than you, and although he didn’t look strong, as the spare tire around his middle suggested, he certainly has a vise grip on you.

You whimper and shake your head, wanting to scream the word ‘no’ but it feels like your throat is closing off. You gasp in short bursts trying again to shove him away.

No, no, no. This can’t happen again. This won’t happen again.

The man began to pull you further down the nearest alleyway. He backs you up to the rough brick wall and begins to paw at your breasts. You screw your eyes shut and try to push him back, placing your hand against his jaw and forcing his head back. He ducks and peppers your neck in kisses. You feel him slide something between your cleavage and hear the unmistakeable sound of a zipper. His hand trails up your thigh, under the skirt. The tightness in your throat finally snaps.

“NO!”

You rear your hand back and swing it out and across his face in a satisfying slap. He stumbles back, releasing you and clutching the side of his face. Your fingers claw the brick behind your back as you gasp out sobs.

The man stares wide-eyed at you, pulling his hand away from his cheek. Blood collects in the corner of his mouth. He reaches back up to swipe at it and looks back at his hand. When his eyes snap up to you all the drunken humor is gone.

“You bitch! What’s the matter with you?! I paid ya, didn’t I?! Now I’m gonna get off-“ he comes at you again. You cry out cowering against the wall as he grasps a fistful of your hair.

You shut your eyes again and wait for the pain to begin... but nothing comes. You hear a loud thwack and the man’s hand loosens its grip in your hair. Strands of your messed up braid fall across your face as you look up to see the man doubled over with a slim, dark woman standing over him, a rather large handbag slung over one of her denim clad shoulders. Her pose exudes confidence and power, as does the crystal studded bustier under a cropped denim jacket. A form-fitting, hot pink, latex mini skirt is wrapped around her hips ending in long, cocoa colored legs.

“I do believe the lady told you no. And when a lady says no, she means it.” She says in a feigned high feminine voice. She turns and walks away when the man rolls to his side and mutters,

“Bitch..”

The woman whirls around and gives a swift kick to his groin with her stiletto heel. His groans double in volume.

“Who you callin’ bitch?!” The woman’s voice drops several octaves into a decidedly masculine voice.

She adjusts her cropped jacket and slings the handbag back over her shoulder. The woman glances down at you and offers her other hand. You hesitantly accept it with trembling fingers. Your eyes dart from her back to the moaning man on the ground.

“Now honey, if your gonna take a man’s money and then stiff him on the goods you gotta learn how to make a quick getaway.”

You gape at her, eyes wide and glassy. You shake your head vigorously attempting to force words out, but you could feel the words stick in your throat before they made it out of your mouth. She studies you for a moment. Eyes narrowing, she asks, “You ain’t from around here are you babygirl?”

Again, you can’t manage more than a shake of your head. The woman takes another appraising look.

“Word of advice? Dressing like… that will send the wrong message to folks ‘round here.” You look down at yourself and hunch forward, trying to cover as much of yourself as you can. The wind picks up and you shiver.

“Well then,” the woman says as she struts back down the alley. She turns on her heel and cants her head towards the street. “time to put you in some new digs hun.”

•••

Cici, as you learn is the woman’s name, takes you to a local thrift shop to find more suitable attire for the late fall weather. The store clerk looks a tad disgruntled as the two of you stroll in ten minutes to closing time. However, he doesn’t seem too put out as CiCi begins to pile some shirts, pants, and coats into your arms. Guess he can’t pass up a chance to make a buck. Every now and then she pulls out a top, clicks her tongue, then holds it up to you for inspection. Sometimes the shirt goes into the pile, other times back on the rack.

As far as you could tell CiCi was by all accounts physically a man, but for the present time wished to be viewed as a woman. You wonder a bit as to why being near her wasn’t becoming a stressor when the man in the alley and even the store clerk were making you want to crawl into a hole and hide. Perhaps it was because all she seemed to want from you was to have a dress-up doll.

Another pair of pants make it into the pile. Did she have a hobby of picking up random people and making them shop with her?

“Alright baby,” CiCi turns back to you as you make it down the small aisle of clothing racks and towards the back of the store. Situated between a men’s hat display and a small section of woman’s scarves sits a makeshift fitting room. Which was simply PVC pipes connected together and black fabric looped around all sides. She parts the fabric and stands by, “go on ahead and try them on. See what you like.”

You shuffle passed her into the small space. CiCi lets the curtain fall behind you. Inside there’s a full length mirror propped up against the back wall. Next to the mirror stands a small, fold out chair. You discard the pile of clothes onto it, a few errant pieces falling onto the floor. Slowly, you glance towards your reflection.

It had been a while since you’d seen yourself in full. Sure you could look down at your own body and had occasion to see your face in mirrors before, but this was the first time since your life had become the horror it had been for the past three years. In the stark fluorescent light of that shop it was like you had finally awoken and could see clearly. It was as though you looked upon a stranger. You were much thinner and paler than you could ever remember. Even the structure of your face seemed wrong. Much too boney and sharper; too dark circles ringing your eyes. They looked alien, much too round and large. You look back into your reflected eyes and see… nothing. No life. Just a defeated, broken thing that was barely clinging to life by the fingertips.

You stifle a sob that threatens to break from your lips. Reaching down and picking up a discarded dress from the store floor you drape it over the mirror. It wasn’t long enough to completely cover but at least now all you can see is the lower half of your legs and feet. Taking a moment to steady your breathing you start to try on the clothing. You find disrobing difficult. Hard to make yourself feel vulnerable in a foreign place when that was all you’d known for so long. Yet, you knew you didn’t want to remain dressed in the clothes that he picked and forced you to wear.

Bolstering your courage you quickly shuck the blouse and skirt off your body and sift through the pile, looking for what will cover you the most. Thankfully, CiCi had snagged rather modest clothing. You try on a series of long sleeved shirts; a few that you rejected for being too low cut or falling off the shoulder. The pants faired better though most were too long and went past your feet. You bent and rolled up the cuffs, satisfied when they reached just to your ankles.

After trying on everything CiCi had given you, you settled on three of the long sleeved tops, two lightly worn jeans, and a tan trench coat. Opening the curtain you meekly shuffle out in one of your newly chosen outfits. You knew you probably needed to take the outfit off in order to purchase it but you just couldn’t bring yourself to change back into the clothes you’d come in. They remained in a crumpled heap with the other clothing.

With one long finger hooked under her chin CiCi assesses the outfit. After she finishes her inspection of you she nods her head once.

“Now don’t you look as pretty as a picture? Shall we go on ahead and buy these and get outta here?” You dip your head low and roll your shoulders forward. CiCi tsks.

“Oh honey, none of that now. We’re gonna have to work on that.” You flush, and hunch over even further. Cici merely shakes her head and begins back down the aisle to the front. As you follow her you glance up to the racks of clothing. Among some of the shirts labeled large you notice a light gray cable knit sweater peaking out, warm and inviting. You pause for a moment then set your items down and reach for it. It feels soft and thick. Pulling the sweater off its hanger you put it on. The woolen quality made it feel a little heavy, but that brings you relief. You feel… safe. This too would make it out with you. When you reach the cash register you hand over the clothes in your arms to the clerk.

The clerk eyes your attire with suspicion, as though you would try to make off with something without paying. He quickly glances towards CiCi, who simply reaches over and commenced plucking the tags off everything you now currently wearing. You tense a little as she does so. Finished, CiCi places the tags upon the counter between you and the clerk one eyebrow quirked in challenge.

The muscles in the clerk’s jaw twitch but he begins scanning the tags. As he totaled everything up you realize you’d have to get your money out to pay. Money that was still tucked away in your bra. You turn to begin fishing out the bills when he clerk says how much it all cost.

“Don’t worry baby, this one’s on me.” You look back over your shoulder and watch as CiCi drops the money into the clerk’s expectant hand. You marvel at her, standing there stupidly as the clerk hands you a plastic bag with your things. Suddenly a lump begins to form in your throat making it hard to breathe. Tears make your vision swim. CiCi pats your arm and rubs it soothingly.

“Now, now. There’s no time for all that nonsense. I am starving. Let’s you and I go get us something to eat.”

So you and CiCi once again make your way out onto the street. Your new clothes, the first real possessions you’d had in a long, long time, in tow.

EVERYTHING TAGLIST:

@booktvmoviefangirl @lowkeybuckyb @prettyyoungtragedy @mrsdaamneron @xxashy999xx @c-ly-g @coal000 @rroguebones @ghostlyrose2 @part-time-patronus @emelielwh @peaceinourtime82 @buckysforeverprincess @geeksareunique @amnahs9695 @v-2bucky @scarlet-skywalkers @lokilvrr @thisismysecrethappyplace @sacre-bluhm @tatertot1097 @until-theend-oftheline @amoonagedaydreamer @marvelouspottering

BUCKY BARNES TAGLIST:

@bloodiedskirtts @igotkatiepowers @misplacedorphan @superwholockwannabe @moonstruckhargrove @ladysergeantbarnes

BBNB TAGLIST:

@imaginecrushes @that-bearshark @jademox @theraputicwritings @marvel-fanfiction @aubri1313 @xcriminalmastermindx @regulusirius @ghostlyrose2 @jacquelineisawkward @lostinspace33 @directionerfae @rainbowkisses31 @marie-is-in-the-dark @msgrungie @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @getmedeacon @owhatshername1 @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @mizzzpink @aveatquevale- @sweetlydecaf @absolukeyrh

[luboytn]

rami’s thoughts about you

a/n: wow. hi there, yall! if you have any ideas of story that I should write about-jus tell me bout it! I’m writing about rami n all characters he played. hope u will like my work! thx tysm

pairing: Rami Malek x reader

summary: you work at the café. rami is having crush on u and after a long time he finally decided to ask u about your number.

warnings: -

word count: 1500+

_________

I watch her long, tanned legs as she heads towards me. Y/N is wearing a white dress today with various colorful flowers; it reaches almost to her knees. She has ordinary white converss on his feet, which are already slightly damaged and dirty. Her hair is once again associated in a ponytail, which is decorated with a sweet, small bow. At the waist, a black apron with a logo of the apartment is tied.

   I'm asking myself; How does this girl withstand this weather in this outfit? How aren’t her legs freezing when the north wind blows outside the window, which is like a breath of arctic cold, and every other day it is raining?

   I look out the window for a moment. I see many people outside, half of whom are already wearing large, down jackets, prepared for the winter and frosts. What's wrong with this girl?

   I bite my lip and tap my fingers on the table top. It's so annoying to have someone absorbing your thoughts. It distracts you from everything, because it is so unattainable, and at the same time literally, at your fingertips.

    - Good morning. - I hear her velvety, sweet like candy, voice, so I look at her. In addition to small freckles, today her face is also decorated with a wide, snow-white smile, which sends in my direction when our eyes meet. My gaze goes down to the notebook, which she holds in her hands; I stop my eyes for a moment, focusing it on her long nails. Each of them is painted in a different color, which seems to me quite an interesting solution.

   I do not know how long I watch them, but when I hear the girl grunt, I go back to the living and raise my head, looking her in the eye now.

    - Welcome to "Lucky Strike" - she says again - Can I accept your order now? - she asks, and I am correcting myself in my chair.

   I grab a card of dishes in my hands, although I know well that I am going to order what is usual. I am reading letters on paper again, and then I say:

    - Classic Italian espresso. - I smile at her, what she reciprocates, and then sketch something on the notebook sheet.

    - Anything else? - she asks without looking up, and I shake my head denying. - I'll give it in a second. - she says.

   Y/N turns around, hiding a small notebook into the only pocket of her uniform, and then goes away. I suspend my eyes on her perfect hips, but it only lasts a moment.

   I watch her enter the counter. She pushes under the cup shelf one of the crates that lie on the floor and then climbs onto it. She is too small to even now calmly reach for the desired dish. A pretty, charming sight, standing on tiptoe like a ballerina and trying to take off one of the cups. When she succeeds in a moment, involuntarily a creepy smile sneaks into my face, because I can see that it is the one with blue flowers.

   I wonder why she is still giving me coffee in it. I mean, in this specific cup. Literally all the other espresso cups are completely white, and the one that stands out is the one that goes to me every next time.

   Did she bring her it here? It is quite distinct, because it is the only one that is different. Maybe it's a kind of message? Is Y/N trying to tell me something? Oh, what am I saying. What would she want to show through a stupid vessel? That she likes blue flowers? Absurd.

   I shake my head, fleeing my thoughts back to the brunette. I watch her turning on the coffee machine, doing two neat turns. It looks like she really loved this job because you can always see a smile on her face. She comes here every day joyful. She does pirouettes from time to time, for no reason, and laughs at herself, like a small child. It is such a delightful sight that you would like to come here just to see it. It is the best attraction that I have seen in my life.

   I do not even know when, and I start to grin with myself and I have to look a bit strange, but I'm not really caring about it at the moment. I have such a sweet view in front of my eyes, I cant help how my body reacts.

   I feel my heart beat faster when the brunette finishes making coffee and walks with the t towards me. She looks like a kind who intends to show off her drawings.

   She leans over the table at which I sit. She puts a cup in front of me, saying kindly to "enjoy your coffee”. Then I pay attention again to her hands, and more precisely to the fingers that run gracefully through pure porcelain, when, after a really short moment, they disappear from my vision, I raise my head.

   Unchecked, I get up on my feet, almost pouring freshly ordered coffee. I make a bit of noise, so the couple from the neighboring table looks at me, but after a few second they return around.

- Can I still order something else? - I ask, one hand raising slightly upwards, as if I was a student in a school bench. Penny turns to me, then with a smile, returns to me and stands at the table, leaning on it.

    - Of course. How can I help you? - after asking questions, she reaches for a notebook and a pen, waiting for my next order. I begin to feel a slight anxiety and stress and suddenly, immensely strong, I am tempted to drink.

    - Could I get your number? - I say before I even manage to mentally prepare for possible rejection. My eyes widen because I'm shocked that I've gotten the courage to ask her about it.

   There is a somewhat awkward silence between us that echoes in my ears. Believe me, even when you hear no sound, this kind of silence can be deadly loud.

   - My number? - Asks brunette, frowning, and I feel my face paler. I want to break the window next to us and run outside; run and run ahead, so no one would know where I am.

   I'm starting to rebuke myself for my stupidity. Why did not I think she could have a boyfriend? She is so beautiful, kind and young, who would not like it for their self? Who would not want it to be their property? She may even be engaged or, worse, she has already got married; she has a child or even a bunch of them.

   My hands are prone to itch because I really want to smash something. I'm mad at myself. Why didnt I thought about that I may be not her type? She probably already noticed that I come here five times a week, at the same time, and order the same coffee; and when I do, I start to observe her. I don’t exclude the possibility that at this stage she considers me a murderer or a pervert. If I was her - would have thought about myself that way. What normal guy, approaching up to fourty, looks at the same woman, in addition younger, for a year, grinning like an idiot, while drinking coffee?

   - I think it would be better if you were to give me yours. - I hear Y/N’s voice, which pulls me out of the momentary state of reflection. I am slightly confused and try to understand her way of thinking. I raise one eyebrow, remaining quiet.

   Does she not want to hurt me by giving me the wrong number, but she still has no heart to reject me?

   - I do not have a phone, I'll call you from the booth. - she explains, probably seeing my embarrassment.

   - Oh - I say - Yes, sure. Give me a piece of paper, I'll write it down for you - Im trying to sound natural, although I have a panic attack inside.

   The girl pulls a piece of paper from her notebook and hands it to me with the pen. I enter my phone number on the card, trying to preserve the cute character of the letter. When I finish, i give it to the brunette, she puts it in her pocket, after folding it in half.

    - What happened to your cell phone? - I ask, hoping that I do not violate her privacy or I do not enter delicate topics. Who knows if her phone has not been stolen recently, along with other valuable things? Or maybe she has no money to buy it?

    - I just dont have it. - she answers briefly, seems slightly embarrassed. She has her head down and the pen in her fingers. Oh, if you could see her now; how sweet she is. I bet I assigned her this epithet at least fifty times today. However, it fits perfectly with her, she could be a definition of this word.

   At this point, it does not even seem strange to me that she does not have a cell phone. Well, I admit that in the twenty-first century, it's harder to find someone without a phone than with it. Especially when it's a person, more or less, my age, and Y/N seems even younger.

   Then I start to wonder how old she actually is? She looks like she is twenty-one, plus I've seen her drinking alcohol more than once, so she can’t be younger, right? I would not call her older than me, I'm sure. Therefore, I estimate that she may be about twenty-two years old. However, her low height and the clothes she used to wear make me puzzled, because if I look only at it, I would call her a teenager, maybe even a preschooler.

    - I'll call you before I start work. I hope you are not asleep before eight. - she says with a smile that I reciprocate.

    - No, I'm not sleeping. Relax, you have nothing to worry about. - I'm lying, because I usually get up at ten o'clock, but I would pick up my phone even if she was going to call in the middle of the night.

    - That's good. - she smiles, hiding the card with my number in the pocket of her uniform. - I need to get back to work - she says, in a sweet voice, then moves away from the coffers in a lively step.

- I’m Rami, by the way - I'm screaming after her before she can get far away from where she would not hear me anymore. She only turns her head, and from her mouth movement I can read - "I know."

It does not take much to wonder how she knows my name. In fact, I immediately reject the idea of ​​divorcing myself.

   I sit back in my seat and let it out of my lungs. I'm still watching Y/N, until she finally disappears from the field of my vision as she enters through the dark door to the back.

I want to jump around the whole café; just shout and run around the tables, ignoring the others. I cover my mouth with a hand when a stupid, pride smile sneaks into it. With the fingers of the other hand I hit the table top, because my body is not able to behave calmly now.

Joy, excitement permeate all of me and I have the impression that any moment i will explode from the excess of intensity of these emotions.

I punish myself in my thoughts for procrastination with Y/N’s approach. She is so nice. Who knows, maybe if I started talking to her faster, we would be in a relationship that would bring us closer till we’d become a boyfriend and girlfriend; or at least friends with benefits.

[alyssastarlight]

Title: Sweet Like Candy to My Soul Author: Nikayla For: @gaycrouton, the Valentine’s Fic Exchange on Twitter Pairing: Mulder/Scully, MSR Set During: Season 4 cancer arc, though there’s very little acknowledgment of it Word Count: 4,900 Rating: M/NC-17

She swallows thickly and he can hear the faint smack of her lips when they part to take another breath. Suddenly he’s fascinated by those lips. Wholly immersed in their plumpness; the flush of their coloring, the shine left behind when she nervously licks along her top lip. Even more suddenly he’s consumed by a need to touch those lips, his hand reaching her face before he’s entirely realized the whim — fingers skimming along her jawline as his thumb whispers underneath the protrusion of her full bottom lip. Her mouth closes on an ‘M’ that doesn’t end up forming anything more.

A/N: I’m horrible at following prompts but I hope this will fulfill your v-day wishes regardless. The concept came to me in that place between awake and sleep and developed itself pretty much against my will and I hope that you and everyone else will like it. Happy Valentine’s Day! ATTHS!

FF.NET | AO3

What a way to spend Valentine’s Day. Not that it really amounted to anything that different from how he normally spent it, with no girlfriend to speak of. But being caught in a blizzard at the tail end of a lackluster case, forced to stay holed up in a motel room when stepping foot outside ran the risk of coming back with icicles for eyelashes was still fairly low on his list of fantasy holidays. Were it not for the redhead whose room his adjoined to, he might have actually gone completely stir-crazy here, in a town he’d never have chosen to visit otherwise. But about said redhead.

On Hour 5 of their forced confinement there was a small rap at the door separating their rooms, the ravishing creature responsible inviting him in to hers to go over the field report she’d been typing away at. It was a welcome reprieve from flipping through the three different channels he’d managed to pull in, each one not much more than a snowy reflection of the blustering weather just outside.

Entering her room he was greeted by a handful of new sensations. The room was warm; probably no more than his but it had a sort of inviting air to it that his stale quarters lacked. Though that may have had more to do with the room’s inhabitant than whatever temperature she’d set her thermostat to. Second, the room smelled infinitely better. Again, something easily attributed more to his partner herself, as there were no candles, incense or the like around to have accounted for it otherwise. And then — there she was.

Casual Scully wasn’t something he got to experience very often. Even in a presumably casual setting she was still often found in a tailored jacket at the very least, if not a full-blown FBI regulation suit. Doing a very unregulated job of hugging her in ways he shouldn’t let himself take note of, but was guilty of nonetheless. But here in Nowhere, North Dakota, stuck in a crappy motel, Casual Scully had made her way out since he’d last spoken to her.

Wearing leggings and an old chopped up t-shirt, with her hair half clipped out of her face; a few wayward pieces breaking free to dance at her cheekbones, though he could hardly fault them for that. It was an indiscretion he himself had been guilty of; breaking away from propriety at times, indulging himself in sweeping the backs of his fingers along her cheek, hidden beneath a guise of either comfort or kindness — brushing a strand of hair from her face before she’s even noticed it had fallen out of line. Casual Scully made it more difficult than usual to resist staring, his gaze lingering in all kinds of ways inappropriate for interoffice partnerships. It was this fact that led him to notice her ten little red painted toes — the only sign he could see of her acknowledging the occasion.

As he surveyed the rest of the room he noted the mat set out just beyond the foot of the bed. She’d taken up yoga a number of weeks before — she’d told him as much, but this was his first actual glimpse into her new ritual. “I was just about to do some stretches,” she mentions offhandedly, before doing a much less off-handed job of whipping her t-shirt over her head, revealing a sports bra to match her workout bottoms. “Be my guest,” his voice does a terrible job at parroting her tone, sounding deeper and fuller than intended; though thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice.

Retiring to the relative safety of the table in the corner of the room, her report left open on her laptop’s screen for him, he once again took the opportunity to spend more time watching her than paying attention to the work in front of him. He looked on with a kind of silent fascination — watching her small but strong form leading itself from one stretch into the next; muscle molding beneath skin. The vision she presented proved far more enticing than words on a screen, and he indulged himself deeper into this welcome distraction.

“Mulder?” Her voice rings out, and he’s certain he’s caught; that the old pretending to read a file gag has failed him. As fate would have it, he’s safe, with her gaze still angled away from him while his has lingered both inconspicuous and yet carelessly — he’s read maybe 12 words of this file and none have been subsequent. “Can you tell me if my back is straight?” She sounds forthright yet idyllic; an odd combination given the situation, but he’s not one to question it.

“Pretty close.” He answers quick, too quick — too obvious that he hadn’t just looked up when she spoke but had been following closely along as she moved from stretch to stretch. He has no idea their names but he can recall in perfect clarity exactly how she looked in each of them.

“Can you adjust me?”

A lump threatens to overtake his throat at her request, strangling his voice before he can cover it with a cough. “Shr—uhum—Sure Scully.” Moving to join her, kneeling just beside her prone form, he’s all at once taken aback by just how small she is. Tough as nails, his Scully, and yet no bigger than a sixth grader. Her size betrays her strength, he knows. He’s witnessed it. He could even say he’s witnessing it now, as she holds herself in a plank position, muscles taut and straining but strong; powerful. He knows she could knock him out if she ever wanted to. Hell, sometimes he wishes she actually would.

“Am I close?” Once again she pulls him back from whatever internal fantasy he can’t seem to let go of; her voice holding a focused innocence his can scarcely claim.

“You tell me.” Having overcome the lump, he sounds more wanton than anticipated. “Sorry...bad joke.” Deciding it would be best to move things along quickly before she can have a reaction, he finally takes in her position from a — fleetingly — objective mind. The next stretch requires a straight back, he tells himself clinically; easy enough. A warm hand lands against her and he marvels momentarily at this new perspective. He’s touched her here almost every day and yet seeing it — seeing the way his hand almost spans her right the way across, how fair and soft she is beneath her suits, the faint smattering of freckles that decorate the area... He doesn’t realize just how long he’s fallen silent; staring, cataloging, until her voice shakes him back to reality once more. “Mulder?”

“Sorry,” he mutters absentmindedly, and moves on to the task at hand.

He’s gentle with her — not that he needs to be; but the compulsion is there all the same. He’s delicate as he maneuvers each area, setting her shoulders just so, pressing softly against her mid-back to correct the slightly convex curvature there. Reaching her lower back again he is struck just as he’d been the first time, summarily distracted from his task of righting her spine’s position; lost within the creamy expanse of Scully skin. He feels more than hears her intake of breath when his fingertips gently wander down her vertebrae, re-misaligning her upper back, requiring he correct it once again.

“Sorry.” She mimics him from before, and her voice holds a quality he somehow can’t quite pinpoint; a borderline somewhere between distraction and...something else. Continuing where he left off, he passes over her lower back, memorizing the curve without the hindrance of fabric to interrupt his mapping of her. Her spine is slightly bowed here, dipped inward from the posture she’s trying to achieve; and he realizes the only way to actually right this is to reach beneath her, palming her stomach to ease her into alignment. He leaves one hand behind to provide a counterbalance, the other bracing itself just over her navel, feeling the rigidity in her abdominal muscles as he finishes repositioning her.

“Looks good to me.” There’s no way to disguise the way his voice has lowered since he last spoke; an all too obvious indication of what touching her could do to a man. He can’t help noting how she looks to be fairing no better, with a slight tremor visible in her stance as she attempts to control her breath. “Thank you.” Her voice shakes just as perceptibly as she is; slight, but it’s there. She holds the stretch for a thirty count, and he’s made no move to leave her side even when she’s finished. She drops a knee to the mat and lets out a languished breath, then turns to sit facing him. Neither has said a word for the last minute or more, and electric molecules buzz in the air like the flurries just outside her window.

She swallows thickly and he can hear the faint smack of her lips when they part to take another breath. Suddenly he’s fascinated by those lips. Wholly immersed in their plumpness; the flush of their coloring, the shine left behind when she nervously licks along her top lip. Even more suddenly he’s consumed by a need to touch those lips, his hand reaching her face before he’s entirely realized the whim — fingers skimming along her jawline as his thumb whispers underneath the protrusion of her full bottom lip. Her mouth closes on an ‘M’ that doesn’t end up forming anything more.

Her eyes are deadly focused on his, though his own have taken up a residence alongside his thumb for the time being. He watches diligently at the way her lip gives under the insistent pressing of his thumb; her breath a hot little cloud moistening the digit along with her lips. Growing braver or perhaps just more foolish, he moves up, to fully experience the satiny impact of her lip head on — feeling her breath shake all the while she allows him this great indulgence. And indulge he does.

“What made you take up yoga?” He asks as though he isn’t currently tracing his partner’s uniquely perfect pout. But a very unpartner-like behavior only breeds more unpartner-like conduct. She swallows again, the action parting her lips once more; though his thumb has still yet to leave their pillowy expanse, simply moving back to outlining the brim of her lower lip once more. His fingers have taken up a more serious attachment to her jawline, and he makes no indication of removing them to make this any easier on her. He can see the mix of shock dancing in her eyes — shock at what he’s doing, perhaps even shock at herself for so freely allowing what he’s doing, and shock that he’s chosen this moment to ask about her exercise habits.

She swallows again and he can feel the sensation just below his fingertips where they graze against her throat. Her lips look as though she’s going to question him. ‘Mulder what are you doing?’, ‘Mulder why are you touching me like this?’, ‘Mulder why haven’t I stopped you?’. He silently prepares himself for — he wouldn’t call it rejection, but it will certainly end up feeling that way. He’s in this just as she is; shock mixing around his mind, at his own audacity, brazenness, at her lack of rebuff until now. But she surprises him yet again — her voice coming out with what looks like a great effort to remain unaffected, but ending up sounding altogether very, very affected.

“It was suggested to me...” His Scully is stronger than any man or woman he’s ever known. Her fortitude astounds him almost daily, but no more than it does in this moment. Perhaps later he’ll tell himself it was that fortitude that spurred him on — a voiceless challenge to rattle those fortifications, push past those braces before she shores herself up impenetrably. Yes that must be the reason he finds himself tugging her closer, his hand having moved to the back of her neck before he fully realizes it; but how can anyone expect anything of him when he’s just felt the first brush of contact of her lips and his? She draws in a quick gasp of breath at the connection, which he’s almost certain amounted to little more than drawing in his exhale; CO2 invading her lungs as his tongue makes its first bid at invading her mouth.

All at once she lets him, even meets him halfway; her tongue colliding with the wet intrusion of his — a first kiss to end all others. It’s slow and soft, yet achingly erotic. This suddenly sensual creature before him never fails to surprise him. Thinking back he could argue that she’s always been sensual — wholly feminine, more beautiful than he’d allow himself to acknowledge — never wanting to reduce her to a mere sensual being, when she was that and so, so so much more; most especially to him. But the kiss — the kiss cements her in his mind as an utterly beautiful, utterly sensual woman. He’ll be hard-pressed to extract her in any other state now, with the way her hands have suddenly clutched into his t-shirt, leveraging herself closer to him; he’ll be hard-pressed indeed.

“Mulder...” his name finally makes it out, but not like he expected. It isn’t ‘Mulder what are you doing?’ it’s ‘Mulder keep doing what you’re doing or I’ll shoot you again.’ Okay maybe not exactly that, but his mind has a mind of its own now and it’s decidedly run away with him. Taken whatever it was that held him back from her for this long and blown it sky high. His hands reach for her waist and pull her in a swift, clean motion; her slight weight flying across the short distance between them until she’s in his lap, knees pressed in to the carpet and lips at a much better angle for him to kiss. She draws in another quick breath at the relocation, but seems just as appreciative to be closer now than just in arm’s reach. Her hands are in his hair and she’s flush against his chest, and she’s just as intent on keeping this going as he is.

A soft, little sound escapes her lips and goes right to his groin. A moan, you idiot — his brain tells him late. You just made Dana Scully moan with a kiss. The realization suddenly brings a smile to his lips, which makes a momentary mess of their kiss. But then she’s smiling too, as though his were infectious and she’s caught it — lock, stock, and barrel. The only cure is to kiss her deeper, drawing another mewling sound from her throat, which makes the same trek downwards just as her hips shift above him. They both feel it — the palpable inevitability of what comes next if they don’t stop this now. His heart lurches at the thought of stopping anything they’re doing right now, and she must sense it; allaying his fear in a single phrase.

“Bed now.”

Her words come out fast, almost too fast for him to register initially. He hears them late, but his body seems to have a mind of its own too; already having gathered her up, mere milliseconds from depositing her on the bed before it registers that this is what she asked for — her body receiving his with a contented sigh. Her legs wrap around his waist and he’s trapped; locked in to her embrace and he’s never felt better, safer, more accepted than he does in this moment. Scully has always accepted him, accepted his faults, his penchant for running off; she hates it but she accepts it all the same. She doesn’t seem to be hating this now though, when he rolls his hips and makes contact against her, she certainly doesn’t seem to be hating this at all.

The friction throws a wrench into their otherwise picture-perfect kiss. They have a rhythm developed already; born perhaps out of dancing around one another so close for so long — it’s instinctive. They know when the other needs a breath, and when breath is the least of their priorities. A kiss; deep, and long, is of much greater importance right now, and he’s chosen then to throw her off her game. Her fingers clench tighter into his hair, as though to steady herself — he’s caused yet another misalignment from touching her this way, and it’s his responsibility alone to fix it.

Without warning he breaks the kiss completely; her eyes fling open and her breath dislodges from her chest on a sudden outward journey. But it’s just as quickly pulled back in; his lips have only relocated — dropped to her throat to do a more than satisfactory job of kissing her there. He feels her begin to melt beneath his ministrations, turning to magma beneath his lips; molten hot and percolating at his touch. She is in sharp contrast to the rage of weather still outside; all but trapping them here, and at least partly responsible for setting this in motion.

His hands finally take initiative to do the same; moving from her waist to engulf her breasts, causing another moan to plant itself in her throat, and her teeth to bury themselves in her kiss-swollen lip to prevent it from fully surfacing. This only proves to spur him on more. He wants that moan — wants to hear it full force; feel it vibrate his very being and know he was the cause. He finds her nipples through Lycra fabric, kneads at them with his thumbs as his hips drive into hers on a soft roll; and that does it. The moan breaks free and she clutches him tighter. The moan sounds like his name and when he repeats the motion again, it is. “Mulder.”

He decides then and there his name has never sounded better, and likely never will again.

She begins to writhe beneath him, growing impatient and only more aroused the longer he takes to give her anything more than petting through material. But he isn’t quite done with it yet. One hand leaves her breast, much to her dismay. She tells him of such with an impatient whimper and an almost painful grasp of his hair. It turns to speaking when his hand moves between her legs; a supplication to God himself, and he’s almost tickled that he’s caused her to bring Him in to this.

He strokes at her clothen center — the scorch of her emanating through the layers still between them, bordering on incendiary. She writhes again and her hand joins the one still at her breast, grapples at him until he grips her tighter; a vision of desperation he will never get out of his head. He decides suddenly, to put her out of her misery. His hand slinks past elastic and cotton, and finally touches the flaming ember between her thighs. Three large fingers stoke her very core, eliciting the most beautiful moan he thinks he’s ever heard; three parts pleasure one part repose — it says finally, something more substantial.

The pads of his fingers run up and down the length of her, yet to focus on one place. For the time being it seems to be enough for her; as she lets her soft, mewling sounds leave her lips freely now, and tells him in a kind of Morse code through her tightening and loosening grip on his hair when and where it feels just right.

“Get this off.” He plucks at the perimeter of her sports bra, suddenly aware that he has still yet to see her breasts and that that simply won’t do. He sits up just enough to give her the room required to remove it but not so much as to break the connection of his hand between her legs. She seems most appreciative of that fact, and rewards him with a cross of her arms and a tug of fabric; the bra is lost beyond the bed and her breasts are finally free — her panting breath causing them to rise and fall gently, somehow making them appear even more enticing. “God Scully.” It’s the only reaction that comes to mind. Give it up to the big man, if he really is up there; if he really is responsible for these perfect, cherry-tipped breasts before him.

His hand returns to her first — molding along her flesh in a way he’d be lying if he said he never thought of doing before this moment. But as most merely imagined things are, it’s better than he ever could have predicted. She’s soft but firm under his hand; warm, welcoming flesh accepting his touch ardently. She flushes under the weight of his gaze and grasp on her — a pretty, pink tinge trailing out across her skin. But despite the blushed hue she is still his immutable partner. “Need this off you.” She grabs for his t-shirt and he’s forced to let go of her to aid in her removing of it. It’s narrowly out of sight before she’s clutching at his flesh, dragging him back down to her; to her waiting chest and lips. Her hands encircle as much of his back as she can reach, fingers press in to lines of muscle and tendon, and the nails of one hand light sparks along his scalp — actions all intended to draw him close, closer; keep him there, keep him kissing her — as if he would stop unless it were her express wish that he did.

His thumb sweeps along the side of her face, this time needing no excuse or wayward tendril to do so. She hums in contented recognition of the overt tenderness of the gesture; kisses him earnestly, matches him equal in her tenderness, as though he deserves nothing less. His heart clinches momentarily, at the thought that she could love him. That on this day of love and bad greeting cards she’d choose to receive the former from him, and return him hers in commensurate measure. He peppers kisses along her cheeks, her jaw; drawing a giggle out of her the likes of which he’s never heard. He can’t resist retracing his steps to kiss her effervescent mouth — to hold some of her laugh inside him forever, as once it entered him he would never surrender it to the harshness of the world ever again.

Her fingers trace a blazing trail down the column of his spine, ending somewhere near his mid-back as she runs out of arm length to reach any further. Diminutive, he’s reminded; and as if she senses his thoughts through some tongue convertible telepathy, she uses her strength to flip him onto his back. Her eyes sparkle — diminutive my ass, Agent Mulder. His petite, achingly pretty partner has finally knocked him on his ass; and she looks particularly proud of herself for doing so. Her hands reach for his belt and it’s game on again. No more verbose silent soliloquies written like odes unto her beauty. At least not for the moment.

With his belt gone she makes quick work of the button and zip of his jeans; extricates herself from him, much to his dismay, but it’s only in necessity to remove the garment, and drop it in a muffled denim thump onto the carpet. Her leggings are next to go; her hips wiggling side to side as she works the snug fabric down her toned, peaches and cream colored legs. He sits up swiftly before she can deal with the rest herself — he wants this privilege; wants it burned inside his very eyelids, so on every blink he gets the split-second reminder, of just what it was like to strip Dana Scully of the last of her underthings.

He sits at the edge of the bed with her fixed between his legs. He kisses the curve of her waist, drags his mouth along the path to her hip, takes her waistband into his teeth and softly snaps it against her. She laughs again, softly; and tangles a hand back into his hair. She indulges his monumental levels of patience even while she has no such monuments of her own. When he finally raises his hands to grasp and pull the fabric down her legs she lets out a sigh; something between relief and a dash of apprehension. There’s no going back now.

He kisses along her sternum but his eyes are decidedly skywards. But this time he’s not looking to the sky for intangible spacecraft hovering above — he’s looking to her. He holds her in place with the weight of his gaze alone. It says to her that this is about you, us; not just him or what lies between her legs. She dips down just enough to kiss him, with the softest kiss they’ve yet to share. The impossible pillow of her lips accepts his own in a cradle akin only to a cloud. He is truly discovering unidentified objects here; flying along with her to light the way.

Her lack of patience has finally begun to catch up with her; and she tugs at the top of his boxers, the turgid, solid length of him breaking free. His shorts have barely reached his calves before her hand has grasped the fullness of him; taking up a slow, rhythmic manipulation of flesh that leaves him burdened with a desperate sort of longing to surge up into the vise of her grip.

“Scully—” His hands take up a similar vise grip of her waist; the rest of his sentiment conveyed only through the fervor in his eyes. Now it’s her turn to put him out of his misery — when she’s in his lap again and the heat of her is engulfing him inch by solid inch. His lips find her breast as she adjusts atop him; accepts him all the more than she’s already done. Her fingers clutch at his shoulders as she works her way down, back up and down again; each time taking more until he’s buried totally inside her and never wants to come back out.

He kisses her again and swallows up her humming; the soft sounds she’s begun making as she sets out a rhythm with him. His hands hoist her gently by the hips to aid in her cadence, and pull her back down in parallel motion; sinking deeply into her waiting warmth and besetting a quiver into her pliable construction. Her rhythm starts to falter even with his helping hands, strength waning as pleasure takes a stronger hold.

“Mulder...” her bliss-racked voice beseeches him; so he rolls and moves them back up the bed, lets her take residence up below him once again, drives his hips into hers like before but this time the connection is palpable — sweaty and authentic, and he’s in rapture all the more. He looks on in fascination at his length disappearing into her — sees the flush creep back in all over now; a full body blushing and he just has to see her face. She’s grown pinker and more wanton since he’s switched their positions, enjoying her view of his form just as he is hers. They share a lust-addled smile before he’s on her again; kissing her hungrily as his hips roll and smack into hers in a delicious dizzying stroke, touching places within her that make her break the kiss to moan and wriggle before just as desperately returning to his lips for just a bit more.

His hands engulf her breasts again; thumbs thoroughly titillating her pert nipples until she’s using any leverage she has to thrust her hips downwards to meet his halfway — anything to tear more pleasure from their joining. Her sounds have been reduced to mere whimpers now; hands clutching desperately for a hold, something to keep her on the precipice, anything to feel like this just a little longer. He stops the overstimulation he’d committed to her breasts, instead focusing on a caress of her hips, her waist, the middle of her chest and even up to her throat. Whatever he can do to extend her pleasure, he’ll do it. He changes the angle of his hips slightly and she all but yelps. “Right there, Mulder—God.” His thrusts steadily hit her in just that spot and she’s quivering again — teeth chattering, nails digging in to his flesh, her voice growing higher and more desperate than he’s ever heard her. His own pleasure is fast surfacing; a wave ready to break on the rocks at any moment, barely holding back but using all his remaining strength to do so.

The inevitable is approaching; fast, and faster still. He knows she’s close but still needs something — that final push into oblivion, and he finds it with his thumb. He smooths the pad of it along her apex, unearths the diamond of nerves at her medial and rubs circles against it until she’s convulsing internally; spasming around him in the most beautiful fashion, and then he’s spilling over too — cresting white waves against the beach, her name on his lips like she were a prayer. And God, for him. She is.

[freyjaiam]

Part of ‘Frey’s 12 Days of Ficmas’

03: Peraltiago: The Battle of Turkeys

Holidays were always chaotic for Amy. She just wanted them to be perfect. She always made a plan and did her best to stick with it so that there was no discord. If one thing went wrong it rocked her. She did her best to keep it cool, her friends and husband always there to try and ease her nerves in a way her parents never could when she was younger. However, being married to Jake was a new pressure she hadn’t dealt with before. Her husband didn’t have many fond memories of any holiday. She wanted to change that. Which was why she was up at four in the morning opening her binder to start the day. She had many pieces of the puzzle already in play.

Gifts?

Wrapped and under the tree her and Jake decorated on December first. Half of Jake’s were decoys because she knew he was impatient and did his best to guess what she’d gotten him by shaking and “accidentally” opening gifts. Socks, underwear, and other random things were under that tree. His real gifts were safely stashed with Rosa, who would be bringing them at dinner. Save for the one gift she still had to pick up before the dinner started.

The table?

Already set. She’d been up until midnight making sure it was perfect. She’d researched many websites, magazines, and even watched some daytime television to get these ideas. Her colors were traditional. The plates each had a little sheer giftbag coordinated with the person assigned to that seat. Gina had promised her that she’d get the flowers for her centerpiece, but since Amy knew Gina liked to sabotage her due to thinking it was funny she also bought extra flowers which she had in the fridge to keep them as fresh as possible.

Alcohol?

Alcohol is a must for parties. Especially with the precinct. Jake’s parents were also coming. Not Amy’s. They decided to visit her brother this year. Her and Jake had bought some and everyone else attending said they would bring something as well. Needless to say it wasn’t going to be a dry party.

Food?

Amy had a slight fight with Charles about the food. She knew she wasn’t a great cook. Despite her promise to always follow the recipe, and despite Charles having gone to the store with her to make sure she had all the ingredients for everything she said she wanted to make, he still insisted on coming to help cook. All Amy could think about was the food truck fiasco where both her and Gina quit because they weren’t cutting the bread right. She didn’t want a hospital visit this holiday, and she knew if Charles was in the kitchen with her she’d probably stab him in the face with her best kitchen knife. So they eventually agreed to split the side dishes in half. She would be in charge of the potatoes, gravy, and green bean casserole. They argued over the turkey. He finally relented but she knew that sneaky sonuvabitch  was making his own turkey to bring here. She just knew it. The little attention whore was probably hoping she’d fail so that he could take the credit for—

“Okay, Amy, focus,” she said outloud with a shake of her head. “You got this. Just…” She checked her watch. “Just under ten hours until people start to show up.”

She went to the fridge to pull out the turkey that she’d taken out of the freezer and—

“Oh… Oh no…” She set it on the counter and it thunked. “WHY ARE YOU STILL FROZEN?!”

.

.

.

“JAKE!” Jake bolted up from bed. His heart was racing and his hand went over it as he looked at his wife. He instantly knew something was wrong due to the wild look on her face. Well that and the giant nicotine patch he saw on her forehead. He hadn’t seen that since their wedding. “We have an emergency!”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“We have more important things to worry about than your heart, Jake!”

“Ouch. Okay. Hurtful. But okay.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just really freaking out, because I already messed up this morning. Jake, the turkey is frozen. Frozen! There is no way I’m going to get it thawed out, in the oven, and ready in time for dinner.”

“Can’t we just, I don’t know, put it in the oven to thaw out?”

“No Jake, that is how you get raw turkey in the middle and dry and burnt turkey on the outside. I’m a disaster in the kitchen but even I know that! I need your help!”

“Okay,” he crawled out of bed and walked to her. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Breathe Amy. We got this. We’re a team, now, remember?”

“Yeah.” She took a calming breath. “Jake, what are we going to do?”

“I’ll put on some pants and find us a turkey. Shouldn’t be too hard since its still early. Right? I mean, corporate America cares more about making the extra dollar now than taking a holiday off for their employees so… I’m sure I’ll find something.”

“Thanks. I’ll start the other stuff but… Please hurry.”

Jake slipped on a shirt, shrugged on his jacket, and found his wallet and keys. On his way out the door he didn’t ask once about the turkey wedged in the microwave that was destroyed due to the door being on the kitchen floor. He just hoped to God he found a turkey before it was more than just the microwave receiving a beating from Amy today.

.

.

.

“Jake? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, nooooooooooooo—-Hey Charles!” Jake spun around to see his best friend. “Just picking up a few things we forgot.”

“Really? But I went shopping with Amy the other day. She should have everything.” Jake hated the almost gleeful look that came upon his best friend’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” insisted Jake.

“Then why are you here?”

“I told you-”

“No, nope, not buying it,” said Charles, hands on his hips. He was practically bouncing on the heels of his shoes. “Something is up. I can smell it.”

“Well… Get your nose checked. Because we’re fine!” Jake then decided to flip the tables. “Why are you here?”

“Amy said I could make a dessert so I’m making pecan pie. All the extra hours we got this week I couldn’t make the trip until now…”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you went shopping with Amy this week?”

“I did.”

And there it was. The small hiccup. The slight catch of breath, the way Charles slightly adjusted his brown tie, something was up with him. Jake didn’t know what it was, but he was the best damn detective in the city, so he was going to sniff it out.

“Oh? Then why are you here? If you went shopping with Amy then you should have everything you need as well. So, Boyle, why are you really here?”

They stood, face to face, waiting for the other to break. They stood like that for a good minute before Charles cleared his throat and backed off. They silently regarded one another and then separated. Jake sighed a sigh of relief when Charles exited into the pasta aisle. He then made his move. He went down the cookie aisle, knowing Charles would be following him. He knew his friend, and he knew he’d be watching. He took a sharp left down the the dairy aisle, apologizing to the woman whose cart he ran into when he was too busy looking to see where Charles was. Little did Jake know, Charles was doing the same thing, and they both froze in slight surprise when they met again near the turkeys.

“Aha! I knew it! Something is wrong! She messed up the turkey already, hasn’t she?!”

“What? No! I’m just…”

“Oh save it, Jake. I know you’re covering for her.”

“Okay, then why are you here?” Jake raised an accusatory finger at Charles. “You’re here for turkey, too. Aren’t you? You promised me you wouldn’t interfere with Amy’s turkey!”

“My toes were crossed, Jake, no promise was made!”

“Dammit. I forgot about your freakishly long toes,” muttered Jake. “Rookie mistake. Next time I make a promise with you the shoes come off, Buddy!”

“Admit defeat, Jake. I’m going to make the best turkey, and you can’t stop me,” said Charles, showing his ugly side, but Jake could get ugly, too. “I knew she couldn’t do it. I was going to just let the chips fall where they may but decided that swooping in with the better turkey would be better.”

“You know what?” Jake grabbed a turkey. It was perfect. And not frozen at all. “There will be no swooping today! Amy and I are going to make the best turkey. Better than any dry piece of meat you’ll have to offer!”

Charles gasped, then snagged his own turkey. “All have you know my turkey is moist and delicious and it will beat the pants off of your turkey! So bring it, Bitch!”

Challenge accepted.

Merry freaking Christmas.

.

.

.

“Amy! Amy we need to…” It was quiet. Too quiet. Jake locked the door and timidly made his way to the kitchen, hoping she was ok. Amy wasn’t there. There was a pile of potatoes, half peeled and half not. There was also a bag of green beans on the counter. He set the turkey in the sink because he remembered something about a turkey needing to be in the sink from his mother. It was now eight in the morning. They had six hours. They needed to get this bird in the oven. “Ames? Where are you?”

It was then he realized she wasn’t there. He pulled out his phone and texted her that he was home with the turkey. He saw her start to reply, but no message was sent. Did she not trust him to do it? Had she thought he’d fail at getting them a turkey? The thought hurt a little, but he couldn’t let it get to him. Not yet.

Because he had to beat Charles.

How hard could it be to make a turkey?

He removed the plastic and only puked one when pulling out all the guts from the ass of the turkey. Thankfully he made it to the trash can. He threw the guts over his vomit and then took out the trash to remove the evidence of him yaking in the bin. Twenty minutes later he heard the jangling of keys in the door right after he finished cramming stuffing back up the ass he’d just pulled guts out of.  He was washing his hands and talking as he heard someone approaching him from behind.

“Amy, not cool, where have you-” He turned around and the woman in front of him wasn’t Amy. She had long, brunette hair, blue eyes, and was smiling nervously while wringing her hands before placing them in the back pockets of her jeans. “You aren’t Amy.”

“Jake…” Amy stepped into the kitchen. She had an easygoing smile as she approached him. She took his hand then tugged him forward a little closer to the mystery woman. “Jake this is Victoria. Your half-sister.”

“My…” He looked her over once more. She had Dad’s nose. “Oh.”

“Um… Surprise?” said Victoria before letting out a nervous laugh.

“Um, yeah… Hi!” Jake eagerly opened his arms for a hug and she gave him one. She was tense at first but relaxed slightly before he pulled away. “Victoria, huh?”

“Vicki, please, only my mother calls me Victoria and usually that’s when I did something pretty bad,” she said with a laugh.

“Right. Right. So, where are you from?”

“Minneapolis, Minnesota originally but currently living in Fargo, North Dakota.”

“Oh, you don’t sound like—”

“Yeah, trust me, not everyone from there talks like the people from the movie,” she said with a laugh. “Everyone from that town hates that damn movie.”

“Right,” said Jake, chancing a look to Amy, who loved that movie. She seemed unphased about it though. “Fargo sucks. I mean, if you want a good movie, then the one to watch is Die Hard, right?”

“Let me show you where to put your stuff while Jake processes,” said Amy, gesturing toward the hall that lead to the spare bedroom, shaking her head at Jake’s poor attempt to see if his sister liked the movie he loved. When she returned she wrapped her arms around Jake. “Hey… Doing okay?”

“How… When…”

“I kinda went over your notes, and babe we really have to work on your organizational skills, but I managed to track down Vicki with the help of your dad. Um, I didn’t give him a heads up about her being here today either. But she wanted to meet you. More than him. Um… She’s never met your dad so…”

“That’ll be interesting.”

“You’re okay with this?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

“What? Are you kidding me? I love it. I’m just surprised you kept the secret that long from everyone or that no one found out. Wait… Did you fake a turkey emergency to get me out of the apartment or…”

“Oh, no, the turkey is a disaster. I really did need a new one that wasn’t a solid brick of ice. But I see you got one, and started it, thanks Babe.”

“Yeah, about that…”

Jake filled in Amy about meeting Charles at the store. Suddenly, gone was the bubbly woman he loved and in her place was a demon ready to suck the soul out of Boyle’s body and place it into the fiery pits of hell.

“We need to destroy him,” she said flatly.

“Okay, but it’s Charles,” said Jake. “The guy can cook. And let’s be honest, the two of us can barely manage not burning a pizza in the oven.”

“Yeah, but we have a secret weapon,” said Amy with a grin.

“What is that?” asked Jake as Vicki entered the kitchen.

“Hey, Vicki, I was just telling Jake that you are part owner of a restaurant up in Fargo,” said Amy, giving Jake a slight nudge.

“Oh, really?” said Jake, a sneaky smiling on his face as he pressed his fingertips together.

“Okay. I’ve only known you both for a couple hours but I can see something is going on,” said Victoria. “What’s up?”

“Well…”

.

.

.

Charles felt pretty damn smug. His turkey was perfect. Along with the cranberry sauce and desserts Amy asked him for after their little fight over cooking dinner. He also made some sweet potatoes, just to be safe. Oh, and some fresh rolls. He nodded to Rosa who had a sack full of gifts as well as some beer. The girl she was dating, the one she met on Jake and Amy’s wedding day, was with her parents instead. Their relationship being new Rosa had turned down the idea of meeting her parents on the holiday and instead decided to celebrate with her second family.

“Charles.”

“Hey Rosa! What’s with all the gifts?”

“None of your business.”

“Okay, okay…”

“What’s with all the food?” asked Rosa, nodding toward the bag. “I thought Amy was cooking.”

“We decided to split the cooking duties this year.”

“Uh huh… But wasn’t she making the turkey?”

“Well… I figured—”

“You went behind her back and made your own, didn’t you? Bad move Charles. Though I approve because it’ll be funny to see Amy annihilate you when you come in the door with it.”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later,” said Charles as they got to the door. He knocked and it was Jake who answered. His face stern as he looked at Charles. “Hello, Jake.”

“Charles.”

“Ugh,” said Rosa, shouldering her way in with her stuff, avoiding the standoff at the door. She nodded to those who were there. When she noticed a new face she turned to Amy with a questioning look.

“That is Victoria,” said Amy, taking the bag of gifts. “Jake’s sister.”

“Holy crap,” said Rosa. “Well that’s a surprise.”

“Yeah, he thought so, too. Thanks for keeping his gifts. Glasses are in the kitchen for drinks.”

“Okay. Hey, just a heads up, Charles-”

“Oh, I know, Jake told me. Don’t worry. We have it handled.”

Rosa had to admit. It smelled damn good in the kitchen when she got her drink. She also noticed the perfectly cooked pies cooling on the counter top. She smirked at that, remembering Charles saying something about cooking the desserts. Rosa poured her drink and went into the living room to ready herself for the fireworks.

.

.

.

“Oh, Charles, sorry. I had no room for the turkey in the oven,” said Amy. “Your sweet potatoes went in there though. They fit just fine.”

“That’s ok, Amy, my turkey will be fine sitting out for the next couple minutes. Since it’s done and perfect. Oh, I saw the pies. Where did you buy them from?”

“I didn’t buy them,” said Amy with a smug grin. “They’re homemade.”

Charles scoffed at that. “Oh, please, no one here will believe that.”

“Ohhh, but it is the truth,” said Jake, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “They are homemade. My sister made them.”

“Kate?” asked Charles. “Well now no one will eat your food. There will probably be glass in it!”

“No, not Kate,” said a woman Charles didn’t know, hands on her hips and her eyebrow quirked. Charles instantly disliked her. “Me.”

“Charles, I’d like for you to meet my sister Vicki. She is a co-owner to a wonderful little restaurant and OUR FOOD IS GOING TO WIN! In your face!”

“Oh, bring it, Jake. My palette is superior in every way. I’m going to wipe the floor with you!” Charles then quickly shifted gears. Because since she was Jake’s sister he totally loved her already. “My name is Charles, I’m Jake’s best friend, it’s really nice to meet you by the way–-Now get ready to suck it!”

“Wow,” said Vicki as Charles marched out of the kitchen area. “He’s… A lot.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s very intense. Maybe a little insane. But he’s my partner and best friend aside from Amy and means a lot to me so hopefully we can get along after all this.”

“Who cares. I just want to win,” said Amy, taking another drink for herself before announcing that dinner was ready.

Jake’s dad had cancelled. Which was fine with Amy but heartbreaking for Jake so she supported him with a half hug. Vicki wasn’t too sad about the dad she never met not showing. Surprisingly she got along really well with Jake’s mother and Kevin, the both of them very curious about her business at home. When it came time to carve the turkeys Amy and Charles faced off at opposite ends of the table. Everyone got a helping of each turkey. From the looks of it Amy and Vicki’s looked better. But looks weren’t everything. They took their seats. Amy cut her toast in half so that the eating could start, and then she just watched. Everyone seemed happy with all the food and that made her feel better by a lot. The turkey was what mattered the most. Charles tried to say she cheated by not making it. Vicki intervened by saying she never touched the turkey and only gave guidance while making the pies.

That had shut him up.

“Okay, you have to settle this for us, who had the better turkey?”

“Must we really?” Kevin sighed before sharing a look with Vicki. “I must warn you. This group of individuals are always involved in some inane quarrel about who is better at what.”

“Competition is healthy, Kevin, and I must say that Santiago had the best turkey,” said Raymond Holt. “Properly cooked. Properly seasoned.”

“Hah, suck it Charles!” sneered Amy.

“I pick Charles,” said Gina.

“Oh you would,” scoffed Amy. “Just like I knew you wouldn’t bring the flowers.”

“Get off my back, Amy, damn!” said Gina before grabbing her wine.

They all went around the table. It was close. Charles was ahead by two before they got to the last of the guests. Rosa picked Amy as did Jake’s mom, which rocked Charles because apparently he’d been trying to butter her up all night. The final vote came to Kevin and everyone looked at him expectantly. He sighed, finally relenting, placing his cutlery down before pondering his decision.

“I’m with Raymond. Amy had the better dish.”

“YES!” Amy cheered before standing up and starting her celebration dance.

“NOOOOOOOO!” shouted Charles at the same time, hands slamming on the table and rattling everything on it.

“Hey, can we get some pie now?” asked Scully.

“We saw the pies cooling on the counter and if you make us wait any longer we may just burn the place down,” said Hitchcock.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” said Rosa, laughing at Charles losing it once more when his pie was bypassed in favor of Vicki’s when he tried to say his pies would be better than hers—then losing tremendously.

.

.

.

Everyone was gone. Vicki was in the guest room getting ready for bed. Amy was putting the last of the dishes away when two arms wrapped around her middle. She smiled, hands settling over his as he hugged her tightly.

“Can I say this was probably the best Christmas I ever had. Meeting Victoria at the top of the list and then beating Charles in the Battle of Turkeys. Also, present decoys? Nioce.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” she said turning in his embrace so that she could wrap her arms around him fully. “I’m sorry your dad didn’t show.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“Hey-oh. Sorry,” said Vicki, who’d come into the kitchen. “I’ll come back.”

“No, no, we’re cool. What’s up?” asked Amy.

“Well I’m not quite tired yet since it’s only nine where I’m from. I was going to ask if you all wanted to watch a movie or something.”

“We… We could watch Die Hard,” said Jake almost breathlessly.

“Oh, yeah. That’d be good. I like that movie.” said Vicki. “Just let me take my contacts out!”

“Oh my God I love her,” said Jake as she left, making Amy laugh. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers for a quick yet satisfying kiss. “I love you, Ames. Merry Christmas.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas.”

END

[dramaqueeenamby]

This is one of the very first stories that I wrote when I was like...12. I must warn you though....this shit is AWFUL (I legit am so embarrassed), but I just want ya’ll to see that I didn’t just wake up writing the way I do now. Ya girl has been on a journey! Ya’ll think of me as some goddess....naw, man. 

----

"I wanna play… more than you know

So don’t you leave… and don’t you go

I want it all… until time falls

His arms… I want to roam

I want to love… give him my trust

I want to live… for both of us

I want to breathe you… lay on your shoulder

I want to warm you… when nights get colder

I want love… love… love

I want love… love… love..." I did a little shimmy type move as we sang the last verse of one of our latest song, "Sell Me Candy", completely aware of the winks, lip licking, guys that were checking us out. My black leather bustier which was covered in diamonds (fake of course) showed off my almost perfect cleavage, my black leather skirt was so short if I bent over you'd see my knickers, my black leather boots reached my mid thighs covering the sheer stockings, and to top off my outfit, black arm warmers. OK you didn't honestly think I would walk around with gauze around my wrists did you? Ugh! You see our band Juvenile Delinquents, each have a trademark clothing piece we always wear, Ciaras was her nose rings, every time you see her she has a different one in, Cassie's was her hair, no it isn't a piece of clothing but is trademark OK?! Anyway whenever you see her, her hair always has a different color highlight, I don't know how she does it but she always finds a different color! And mines are my arm warmers, black, pink, green, orange, you name it, I've got it. Unlike Ciara and Cassie I never intended for my arm warmers to become trademark, I just did it so no one would find out about my cutting problem.....

                                                                   JBJBJBJBJB

"OMG! Did you guy's see that guy in the the third row?!" Ciara shouted excitedly shaking the bottle of red nail polish, I nodded my head instantly as I drank another sip of my water bottle, after every concert I always had to have one. We were in our hotel room at the four seasons hanging out/celebrating tonight was the end of our "Good Girls Gone Bad" tour, and honestly? We were happy as hell. I mean it's not that we don't like what we do it's just we had been on tour for four months now and we were tired.

"Yeah! You mean the one in the red shirt, black spiky hair, and green eyes?" I questioned sitting down on the bed across from hers, opening up my mac to check my emails. She began ferociously shaking her head, her brown/blonde hair waving all over the place.

"Yep, was he cute or what?!"

"Totally! I SO should have gotten his number.'

"Hell yeah! But he looked kind of old maybe late 20's?"

"Probably, but hey its like I always say older guy's are always better."

"Oh really? And when did you come up with that theory?"

"When I fucked a guy who was old enough to be my dad who was and still is the best guy I've ever screwed."

"Your sick you know that?"

"Maybe...but I cant be that sick considering that your still my best friend."

"Hey!" Cassie yelled walking into the room, she had at towel wrapped around her hair and body, hey you think she just got out the shower? *Note the sarcasm* One hand on her hip, the other holding her towel in place, and a fake insulted look on her face.

"Relax hoe, she's my best brown haired friend, your my best black haired friend, see there's a difference." I didn't really mean it when I called her a hoe, it's just something we had come up with. I called her hoe, she called me whore, and we called Ciara slut.

"Whatever whore" She had a teasing smile on her face as she walked back into the

bathroom, see I told you we didn't mean it!

Break it up up give it to me come on,

break it up give it to me come on,

I'm gonna feed-

Picking my phone off the bed, I saw I had a new text message, flipping open my phone I opened the message

Hey, meet me out back.

ForeverWithYou

My eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, ForeverWithYou? Who the hell was that?! Could it be...No it cant he's on tour right now, and besides he always uses two of his songs, he doesn't have any called Forever or With You....or does he. But what if he's like some creepy stalker type dude?

Relax I'm not a stalker

ForeverWithYou

OK never mind, going against my beater judgment, I decided to meet weird, random texting person, jumping off the bed I pulled on my gold tennis shoes . Looking in the mirror making sure I looked alright I grabbed the room key, "Hey I'll be right back."

"Yeah sure OK" Ciara mumbled not once taking her eyes off of the TV, rolling my eyes I walked out the door and slammed it, I ran down the hall and slid down the railing on the stairs, for some reason I was very eager to find out who my 'John Doe' was.Opening up the back door I looked around for him/her, but all I saw was a bunch of empty pool chairs, and an empty pool. Was I on pinked or something? I had came all the way outside for nothing. Grunting loudly I snatched my phone out my jacket pocket and turned around to head for the door.

"Hey, haven't I seen you someplace before?" As soon as I heard his voice my face turned up a huge smile and then a giggle remembering the first time we met, I had a feeling it was him...

I turned around still smiling, "Yes, thats why I don't go there anymore." He faked a mocked hurt look and turned his head as if he was through with me, laughing at his stupidity I ran as fast as I could and jumped in his arms wrapping my arms around his neck. He laughed at my excitedness as he picked me up and swirled me around, setting me down he leaned down and kissed me. Pulling back for air we starred at each for a few seconds, until I broke the silence that is.

"What are you doing here? I thought your tour didn't end for another month." My arms were still around his neck and his were around my waist, I probably could've let go but..I didn't want to, when he was around I didn't cut myself, I didn't feel the need to.

"Well it wasn't but Sean had a family emergency so he had to fly back home, and we couldn't find a replacement at the last minute, so we have to postpone it till he gets back."

My smile fell at that "Postpone? As in you have to go back? Again?"

"Well I cant just not finish the tour, RI." His voice wasn't sympathetic or caring it was almost like he wanted to say, 'My fame is more important than you so it comes first" and that, that right there, pissed me the hell off.

I pulled (or yanked) my arms from off of him "Of course you cant." I barked at him turning on my heel, heading towards the door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," He ran after me, and spun me around, making me face him. "What's up with you?"

"I'll tell you whats up with me! I'm tired of only getting to see my fucking fiance once every what, two months! I'm tired of only being able to spend time together when it's convenient for you! And I'm really fucking sick of only being able to see my fiance every fucking 6 months ! Oh wait silly me thats what happens when your engaged to fucking Chris Brown!"And with that I stormed out leaving a very angry, confused, and hurt fiance of mine.