#tried running into the wall for like ten seconds in excitement before using my singular brain cell and going around

[gunstellations]

rival battle ⚔️

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1;  report ix

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: doctors! au; humor, romance 

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.8k

g/n: ((unedited skfslkdf)) also,,, i will be releasing Parallel Palpitations very soon [which features this Jimin hehehehe stay tuned for that] PLUS, im very excited to release the report x AHHHHHH send me your thoughts pleaseee 

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07​ @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle​ @btsmakesmehappy​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

You open your new group chat first thing in the morning, wanting to check on Soomin and Jimin. Just yesterday, the two had informed you of their concerns separately, both worried over the same thing. Soomin’s mother wanted to hold a small congratulatory celebration for her daughter’s KMLE results, and her subsequent acceptance at Woocheon, so there was going to be a party exclusively for all tenants of the building at the restaurant just next to the cafe. 

The two hadn’t worked out their budding acquaintance, as you had practically forced them to greet each other the last time you were at the cafe, so you thought this might be a great way to have them start over their tricky relationship. 

As you’ve expected, both of them had even tried to convince you to come, in the hopes that a mutual friend could help diminish the awkward air around them. You’ve declined each of them politely, not wanting to intrude on their little get-together. Besides, (just like you hadn’t forgotten to mention to them), this was the perfect opportunity to get rid of this wall hindering their friendship (to which, both of them had also quite strongly disagreed upon). 

A mere three hours after their outpour of sentiments, as you’re rewatching episodes of Dr. Romantic with Chohee, the pair drunkenly call you, requesting a video chat. You’re pretty sure not one of them is aware of what’s happening, especially with Jimin refilling his shot glass every thirty seconds; Soomin speaking gibberish, and Chohee literally teasing them through the screen of your laptop and yet none of them seem to mind a damn thing about it. 

So, with hopes that each of them arrived home safely last night, you type in your text message. 

‘What is this place, really?’ you mutter to yourself, slightly regretting your decision to take the subway instead of a cab. You only ride taxis for places you’re not familiar with (such is the case with today) but you didn’t want to spend twice as much solely for transportation so you took the train to the building. 

Now you feel lost. You’ve just gone to the main entrance of the building, but there was scaffolding barring the entrance, and now you’re struggling to look for Entrance B with the singular tarpaulin saying “Please use Entrance B” and a faded arrow below pointing to the left. After a grueling ten minutes of asking people for directions and walking all over the place, you finally find Entrance B and hurry on your way inside. 

There’s already a small crowd forming where the directions for the processing of your license is posted, and you can’t seemingly read the directions all the way down with people clearly taller than you blocking the way. 

“What’s the matter? Can’t see the directions, smally?” 

Your instant recognition of his voice makes you hang your head low. You figure there’s no way you can get rid of this guy anytime soon. 

“Hello, Jungkook.” 

Why is it that he’s always there wherever you are? He couldn’t be stalking me, could he? 

Jungkook almost spits his water on the girl in front of him. Oh, so he heard your thoughts then. “Yeah, you wish, woman. I wouldn’t do that even if you had one million strapped to your neck.” You roll your eyes at him. 

“Wasn’t asking for any conditions for you to do that, but thanks for letting me know your thoughts.” 

“Awh, you mad, babe?” Shaking your head at him, you try to continue peering over everyone’s shoulder to check the post. “If it makes you feel any better, I would for two million though.” 

You were just about to retaliate with a smart comment, but you see a girl walking towards Jungkook while twirling her hair with her newly manicured fingers. “Jungkook-oppa, you’re here!” she says, hooking her arm on his elbow. 

Ah yes, it’s the same brat that kept defending Jungkook’s ass during the KMLE exam. “Why don’t you come with us? My mom works here,” her voice gets down to a whisper, but loud enough for you to hear. “If you come with us, you wouldn’t have to fall in line, then maybe we could have lunch together. 

Jungkook removes her hand from his, “No thank you, I’ll just wait here.” 

“With her?”

The audacity of this bitch. 

“Yes, with her.” Jungkook says, not skipping a beat. “She’s...better company.” Oof, that’s gotta hurt. 

You try not to show much of your currently soaring pride on your face, but you can’t help but clear your throat as a terrible disguise for a snort. The girl becomes silent after that, with most of her friends trying to control their facial expressions after Jungkook’s reply. 

“Fine then, your loss,” she says with a flip of her hair, then makes her exit. 

You're unsure what to do now as the girl has already left, and you’re also not sure if you’re entirely happy about being left with Jungkook now. “Why didn’t you go with her? Could’ve saved you a lot of time considering the people here.” 

Jungkook clenches his jaw, as if in thought. “I don’t like cheating. I believe that there’s a different value in the reward that comes with something you worked hard for.” 

You’re surprised. You really hadn’t expected this kind of quote, coming out of Jungkook out of all people, but you find yourself nodding as he speaks, quite impressed that you share the same principles. 

As the crowd starts to disperse, you and Jungkook finally get your turns to take a look at the poster. “Is it often?” 

“What is?” 

You point a thumb backwards towards where the girl had gone to, “Having girls throw themselves at you all the time?” 

“Oh that,” Jungkook chuckles, then gives you a lopsided smirk, “Yeah, that. Hadn’t realized being this hot was so tiring.” Squinting your eyes at him, it then again dawns on you that you shouldn’t even have asked him that sort of question at all. 

“You know,” he says, nudging your shoulder with his, “I’m quite jealous of you really,” your brows crease together. This can’t be good. “At least you don’t experience all of that, cause you know…” he says, gesticulating his hands over his face. 

He did not just insinuate that you were not...attractive at all. Huh. This bastard can wait for his license alone then. 

“Goodbye, Jungkook.” 

“Hang on! ________, wait! I was just messing with you,” Jungkook laughs, running after you.

The cashier is already scanning the last items on your grocery list by the time Jimin and Soomin had texted you that they were done with their licenses, and you three had agreed on meeting up by the mall’s concierge. It doesn’t take long before you all decide on having Italian for dinner, after seeing the restaurant nearest to where the concierge was. 

“Wait, it took you guys only half an hour?” you exclaim, recalling how you had to endure at least more than an hour with Jungkook as you waited for your licenses to finish. Thankfully though, the latter had other errands to run so you two parted ways as soon as you got your IDs. 

Jimin, always the gentleman, offers to get your group the utensils as well as a few condiments and spices you might need with your meals. “Soomin-ssi, do you know anybody else who’s going to Woocheon too?” he says, setting the silverware atop the napkins. 

Soomin thanks Jimin for the thoughtful gesture, sending a small smile his way. You squeal inwardly, wanting to know what happened last night for them to interact like this. “Um, also, I’m not so sure about the others who will be attending Woocheon too...I only got a glimpse of the list, sorry.” 

“Ah, no worries about that. So, how was the dinner party last night?” 

The two glance at each other, seemingly communicating with their eyes. Oookay, what’s going on between these two? What exactly happened last night? If they wanted to be alone, they could’ve just said so… 

“It was fun,” Jimin initiates, plastering  what seems to be a painfully wide grin on his face. Soomin nods along with him as she adds more, “Honestly, I don’t remember much about last night, but I do recall Jimin calling me ‘sajangnim’ the whole night. And I told him to not call me that, but Jimin here is a stubborn man.” 

“Yeah, you complained about that too last night,” you laugh, cutting your garlic bread into pieces. “Wait, what?” Jimin squints his eyes at you, “Were you there last night? How did you....” 

“I’m guessing you both don’t remember calling me last night too, didn’t you?” 

“We did?!” they say in unison, making your eyes go wide. “Did I do something stupid?” “Please tell me I didn’t say something I shouldn’t have?” 

“Hmm, well, it was quite the conversation last night,” you tease them, wanting to see how far this can go, “plus Chohee was there too so I have another key witness.” 

“What?” Jimin squeaks, lips pressing into a thin line, “what’s the key witness for?” 

“That, my friend, is up to you to remember and figure out.” You give each of them a wink, before turning your attention back to your pasta.  

Transferring all your groceries to one hand, you fish your keys from your purse, shaking it lightly to hear its jingle as you blindly course your fingers through your bag. As the elevator doors open, you see your neighbor down the end of the hall, trailing after a man. 

Ayoung hears the elevator bell ding and turns to your direction. She excitedly points her thumb to her back, mouthing ‘new tenant’ to you. She keys in her code and lets the guy in first. The moment he’s inside, she leans by the doorframe and whispers how hot the guy actually was and how much of a lucky neighbor you were going to be. 

You shake your head at her, leaving Ayoung to entertain her guest. Of course, not forgetting to pray that she manages to score you a hot man next door.

© joontier 2021

[thenameisel]

Origin Stories Part Four: Dangers in the Dark

A black garbed Hunter stood out against the off-white wall of the warehouse, pacing and judging the best way to scale it, as it was unfortunately much too high to jump. There was a rusted out fire escape that just might hold Boop's weight.

"Heard anything from them?"

"Nope!" Pip chirped.

"I'll admit I'm a little concerned. Caush usually doesn't go radio silent."

"Oh the two of them are probably busy inside. How long do you figure till we start hearing explosions?"

Boop laughed and started carefully climbing upwards. The fire escape thankfully held. Mostly. It helped that the Hunter didn't weigh very much. Pip kept pace, scanning rungs as they went, pointing out the ones that should be avoided. Even still there were a couple close calls as the old metal cracked unter the weight.

Halfway up Boop paused and turned to admire the buildings of the old world. Eyes narrowed momentarily at a disturbingly uniform set of potholes leading away from the warehouse. Pip noticed what his Hunter was looking at, and made a singular, slightly worried sounding beep.

“The pattern of those tracks seem to be headed away. Let’s be glad for that.” The Ghost said, and the two continued their climb.

Eventually they made it to the rooftop, which was a wide gravel covered expanse, warm from the day's sun. There was a large hole in the center where the roof had collapsed some point in the past.

"Oh that's… not good. Nope. Nope." Pip exclaimed as he vanished in a flurry of sparks. Boop shared a few choice curses. Running like some giant web across the surface of the roof was lines of ash and green fire.

“Boop. Caush still isn’t answering me. Now I’m worried.”

“C’mon.” Boop said, carefully picking a route across to the hole and staying well away from the lines of Hive magic. “Any idea what this does?”

“No, sorry. But I bet nothing good.”

The hundred meters or so to the gap was made painfully long with worry about Elliott. But eventually, Boop made it to the edge. Crouching down to reduce the chances of being seen, the last few meters were taken at a crouch, each step careful to not disturb any pebbles, least any drop over the edge. Readying the sniper, Boop peeked over into the warehouse below.

Surprisingly, the space was clear of debris, and a wood floor made it much more home like. At the edge of the sunlit area the wood gave way to a concrete floor and the maze of cubicle-like living spaces favored by the Eliksni. Carpets and fabric hangings softened the ramshackle walls.

“Oh.” Pip said excitedly. “So there is Fallen here! Or was! I was starting to worry that informat was lying. But why the Hive magic?”

“No idea." Boop scanned both light and dark areas, but couldn’t see anything moving. "Any sign of Elliott and Caush?”

“No. Nothing.” a pause. Boop could feel Pip thinking. “Wait. That’s it! The magic! It must be blocking my sensors!"

"Ok. So we're blind right now. Let's wait a bit. Elliott can take care of himself. We haven't heard any noises so it's likely he hasn't come across anything. He might be working his way through that maze down there."

And so they waited. Eyes scanning shadows for any sign of movement. Something about the whole thing didn't sit right with Boop though. And the longer they waited, the stronger the feeling got. Why was the Hive here? Why was the roof criss crossed in their weird magic fire? The whole thing didn't sit right.

"I think it's a trap."

"You do?" Pip said excitedly. "Oh we haven't encountered a good trap for years! Oh! Oh! What do you think this one does? Cave the roof in? Summon a Tomb Ship?"

"Seriously?" Boop shifted the sniper rifle anxiously, really wishing Pip was visible. That Ghost needed a good poke for that comment. "It's one thing when it's us! It's not right when it's Elliott in danger!"

"Oh he's fiiiiiine. Betcha Caush already figured it out. Besides, when was the last time Elliott went up against something he couldn't punch his way out of?"

"Quiet. I think I see movement. Ten o'clock."

"Oh you're right! I think that's them. Weird. It's like they aren't there."

Boop's shoulders stiffened in concern. The Titan was walking nonchalantly down the corridor towards the open space.

"Wait. More movement. Two, four, and nine." Pip's voice went up an octave. "Also not on sensors! But I think I see Hive eyes!"

Boop didn't hesitate. Cover didn't matter at this point. Standing up with a pebble in hand, the Hunter tossed it with the aim of years of marksmanship practice. Watched as it pinged off Elliott's helmet. His response was slow. Too slow. Waving madly Boop finally managed to catch his attention. Tried so hard with a chopping motion to encourage him to back away. But it was too late. The Titan was surrounded.

Below, Elliott engaged the hive with that ridiculous auto rifle, the paff paff paff-ing noise cutting through the chaotic screeching of the Hive. Anything that got too close for comfort got punched with an Arc covered fist.

Aiming the sniper rifle expertly, Boop started felling targets, Pip calling out locations of the most pressing ones. Hive Knights getting behind Elliott. Corrupted Thralls creeping too close. It almost looked like they could turn the tide.

Then the Ogre stepped out of the gloom.

For a split second Boop considered jumping down, but something about the way the Hive as a whole kept pushing Elliott back towards the center of the open space was concerning. The Knights never stepped more than a couple feet onto the wood floor. The Ogre did, but started backpedaling when Elliott gave ground. That sealed it. There was definitely a trap.

Boop watched in horror as the Titan jumped into the air, Arc energy flowing around him violently. Watched him plummet towards a knot of Thralls that looked like they had been herded out into the open as bait.

Boop screamed his name knowing full well it was too late as Elliott punched through the floor into the hidden pit below.

A wave of green fire erupted upwards before the depths sunk back into darkness.

"Oh no no no." Pip exclaimed "Now what? NOW WHAT?"

"Now we improvise. Keep trying to contact Caush."

"You can't be serious. I know what you're thinking! What if you fall too?"

"I'm a whole lot lighter than a hurtling Titan." Fire erupted along Boop's arm as a flaming gun appeared out of nowhere. "We'll be fine."

With that the Hunter hopped into the building, firing the flaming gun on the way down. Spent, it dissipated into ash and embers, but each shot had hit it's mark. The Ogre was dead, and so were a handful more Knights.

Using Light to break the fall, Boop landed gracefully at the edge of the open area, footsteps making a distinct hollow sound. Quickly slipping into the shadows the Hunter became a whirling dance of hidden death. Knives were thrown, shotgun was fired, and Hive fell not knowing where the onslaught came from. Boop kept moving, kept them guessing.

"I'VE GOT CAUSH!" Pip all but screamed in excitement.

"Thank the Light. Are they ok?" Another dodge, the Hive Thrall that had gotten to close lunging through the smoke like trail of Boop's passing. A shotgun blast dispatched it.

"Enough." Pip said relieved, between Boop's blasts. "But Caush says there isn't much Light down there. They have some time but…"

"So we better move faster." Boop said, resuming the dance.

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

"...hear me? Hello? Elliott?" Caush's voice cut through the ringing and fog. "Look, I need you to wake up. Or specifically, you need you to wake up and get out of here so I can heal you."

"What happened?" Elliott groaned. Everything hurt. He tried to roll onto his back and failed. His legs were pinned under something heavy. He did manage to twist around enough to see a jagged outline above them. "How far did we fall?"

"It was a trap. False floor. Walls covered in Hive magic to conceal it. We are so far out of my calculations that for once, I've scraped my analysis entirely. We are now, officially, winging it."

"Ok. Let's have some light to see."

"No. Not happening. There is so much magic here I can't tell what it does. I can't justify that risk. But I can tell you that there is so little Light here that unless we move, and you die, I won't be able to do anything about it."

"So. You need me to free myself, and climb out, injured and blind."

"Yes."

The Titan groaned in frustration and tried to shift the mass again. Part of the floor no doubt. It moved slightly.

"You got this." Caush said encouragingly. "You're the strongest…"

Caush fell silent mid sentence. Elliott could feel excitement building through their connection to each other. He held his breath and listened. He could still hear the Hive shrieking above, no doubt in joy for him falling for their trap. Then he heard something different between the screams. Shotgun blasts. The shrieking was in frustration! Boop!

“Connection reestablished!” Caush proclaimed proudly. “Your fall must have disrupted enough magic to get a signal out. I’ve updated them on the situation, Pip says they will come as fast as they can.”

“Ok. I guess I better keep trying.”

Again Elliott tried to move the mass. But being pinned face down was not helping. Somehow he did manage to get enough leverage to extract himself down to his knees and flip mostly over. Elliott grit his teeth as fresh pain in his left leg assaulted him and he suddenly felt very faint. He knew immediately what was wrong. Being a Guardian let you experience death in so many ways.

"How bad is it, Caush?"

"Unless you can stop the flow, I figure you have about three minutes." This time there was concern in his Ghost's voice.

"Great." Elliott said, and tried again to free himself. He had a sliver of hope though, the time between shotgun blasts above was starting lengthen.

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

Unfortunately Boop was quickly running out of ammo. Fortunately targets to shoot were starting to run thin too. A pull of the trigger took out one of the three remaining Knights, the second Knight got a knife in its head buying precious time to reload. Sliding through the last knot of Thralls, and firing at a choice few, Boop managed to get near enough to blow a hole through the last Knight. When it fell the remaining Thralls bunched up almost nervously. A single grenade finished them off.

Panting heavily Boop lifted a hand. Pip appeared, gave his Hunter a quick one over, patched up a few cuts and a nasty acid burn, and vanished again quick as can be.

“All right. Down?” Boop asked, carefully picking a path to the hole in the floor. Lighter by far than a Titan, the damaged floor held the Hunter’s weight. Mostly. But one misstep could cause another collapse risking Boop being in the same state as Elliott.

“Little more to your left, near that jumble of cables. Wow that hole is deeper than you’d think. Oh! Oh! Oh! I bet the Hive were digging a new nest right under the Fallen! Perhaps they thought it would be an easy food source?”

“Maybe. Can you patch me through to Elliott?”

“Done!” Pip said after a short pause.

“Elliott?”

“Hey.” His voice was weak but there.

“You ok?” Boop kept moving, listening to the creek of the floor.

“Nope.” a grunt of pain, and sharp intake of breath. “Look. Caush is gonna need your help with this one. Not enough... Light.”

Boop understood. They were playing a dangerous game. If Elliott died down there, Caush wouldn't be able to bring him back alone. Boop and Pip’s own Light could help, but if they got there after Elliott’s faded away completely… there would be no bringing him back.

Boop was getting close to the edge.

“Talk to me, Elliott.”

“About… what?” His voice was strained.

“Well. It’s your turn.”

“Now… is not... the time.”

“I heard McKay made the whole thing up. For the attention.” Boop said mischievously. Felt Pip’s amusement at the taunting.

“You take… you take that back!”

“Well.” Boop said, having reached a beam that jutted out over the hole. Carefully walking the length, the hunter peered over the edge, judging the distance. Pip helpfully highlighted Elliott’s form in the gloom and shifting dust below. “I guess you better survive to set me straight!”

Boop stepped off the edge casually, dropping feet first. At the last moment a burst of Light propelled Boop upwards, breaking the fall. Landing gracefully, the Hunter quickly headed over to the Titans form. Elliott lay there limply amongst the debris of the false floor. Blood seeped from a poorly wrapped rent in the armor on his left leg, ran down the rubble, collecting in pools on the dirt floor. Way too much blood.

“Damned Hunters...” He managed faintly. “Always showing off… with that jump. Worried you’ll… miss… one day. Break… something.”

“Well I’m here an’t I? Besides, I’ve done that enough times to learn my lesson.”

Elliott didn't reply.

A chill ran down Boop's spine as the realization hit that the Titan was no longer breathing.

“Where you at Caush?” Boop lifted a palm for Pip in a bout of sudden panic. They had precious moments before Elliott's light would be gone forever.

“NO! Too much Hive magic! It’s not safe!”

Boop’s hand dropped instinctively.

"You serious?” Pip exclaimed, Boop was getting the distinct impression Pip thought Caush was being ridiculous. “Sure, it's a gamble, but we don't have time to find another solution!”

Caush was quiet at that.

Boop raised a hand again.

A flurry of sparks filled the air above it as Pip entered material space, his light illuminating the area.

There was utter silence for a few moments, as Pip’s facets rotated back and forth anxiously.

But nothing happened.

After a moment Pip made an angry sounding burble, his shell twitching in rage.

Caush appeared directly above his Titan, his eye shifting between various sickly hues of embarrassment. His shell span, splitting open, facets glittering pale gold in the low light. His own stores of Light were pitifully low. Certainly not enough to bring Elliott back.

Wordlessly Boop reached out towards the glow, eyes closed, shutting out Elliott's broken form and trying to focus on the flow of Light within and quickly found it. A sensation like a warm bubble, Pip's emotion filled consciousness pressing on the barriers of Boop's. The connection made, Light poured out from Pip, through Boop, and into Caush.

Boop's eyes opened just in time to see Caush, now glowing brightly with plenty of Light, start spinning faster and faster. Suddenly with a blinding flash his Light enveloped Elliott, settling on him like a mist. Boop watched breathless as Light mended the rent armor, the unneeded bandage dissolving into motes of light which reformed in their correct place as an unflawed Mark at Elliott’s waist.

With an audible snap Caush’s facets pulled back into place. The Ghost gave a little shake, and with sharp nervous movements floated over the Titan’s face.

A heartbeat stretched into an eternity.

Boop jumped as Elliott inhaled violently. With his fist exhalation he rolled and stumbled upright, instincts telling him to move. He took a few staggering steps, his breathing heavily and swaying like a drunk. Boop ducked under an arm to help Elliott stay upright as he got his balance back. He shook his head trying to clear the fog of resurrection.

“Thank you.” He said, his voice coming back to its usual room filling quality. “Now if you ever talk smack about McKay again...”

Boop laughed. “How about we get out of here, hmm?”

“Sounds good.” Elliott looked up wearily. “Better start climbing."

"You better be careful about it. Neither of us have enough Light left if you fall again."

"No promises" Elliott chuckled, then grew somber. "Too bad this place was overrun by Hive. No Fallen Captain in sight.”

“Not a total loss there. Pip? Caush?”

Both Ghosts did a deep bob in the air in acknowledgement.

“Oh! Yes! Caush and myself compared some notes, and we believe the Fallen vacated only a couple days ago, and it looks like they had a Spider Tank with them. Should be easy to track!”

“So?” Boop asked, elbowing Elliott in the ribs. “Wanna check it out? Take the sparrows and follow the tracks? You can tell me about your first day on the way!”

“Yea. Sounds good to me!”

[tawnyyeyed]

a very belated birthday gift ! 02.06.1988 —— @lyricalrose​ . ♡

     shopping for him is always a difficult task, and a hurdle in which almost every woman faces — whether it be a birthday gift, a christmas gift, a valentine’s gift, or even just a gift for him in general. men are seemingly hard to please and it’s never easy, but for her favourite red-haired rocker from the sunshine state, elouise is adamant on pulling together one of the most perfect and elaborate birthday gifts she has EVER generated with her own two hands. after all, his birthday seems to be the most fitting occasion for her to express her unconditional appreciation for him — the thought of the singer having occupied her mind a lot more often than not over the past six or so months. with the amount of laughter and joy he has brought her through some of the simplest of conversations, he is well deserving of all the gifts he is about to receive as they sit at his apartment door.

     the process all began weeks in advance, back in early january in fact. elouise was attending a house party, sitting with her artist friend richard when quite randomly he pulled a blade from his jean pocket — one of his latest works. it was a pocket knife, ornate in just about every way. silvery and glimmering in the dull light, the metallic grip was engraved with the finest of details. a pile of fanged and beastly looking skulls, thorny and wilting roses amongst them whilst a thick chain coils and tangles around them. the very first thought that popped into her mind was; axl would love this ! the whole design reminiscent of his entire aesthetic, or at least she thought so. immediately she offered to buy the thing off him right then and there, and within minutes the blade was sold and stuffed into her purse at the discounted cost of a mere twenty. 

     however, the bargain didn’t end there. with elouise’s confession that the blade would be given as a gift to someone, a certain someone that richard was familiar with, the artist was more than happy to design a custom tee for the singer he had met once before. a halloween ago, now. it doesn’t take very long for the two to come up with a concept, and it’s only two and a half weeks later that richard is arriving at her apartment door with a black tee in hand. adorned in airbrushed imagery, the design is a caricature of axl — he’s a menacing skeleton in a leather jacket and matching leather pants, his features exaggerated in the way that his shoulders are broadened and the rest of his body tall and skinny, hunched over almost as a cigarette smoulders between bony fingers and a razor sharp grin resides upon the skull’s face. his exaggerated hair resembles actual flames, and beautifully compliments the burning leaves that fall from autumn trees in the background as well as the signature brooklyn brownstone building that towers over him from behind. the imagery is frightening, but insanely cool — and elouise can’t help but let out a shriek of sheer amazement and excitement and AWE when she sees that at the top of the design, ‘mr. brownstone’ is written in big grey letters in a graffiti sort of style. richard never fails to wow her, and he continues to prove that as he turns the tee around show that on the back he has painted a brownstone brick wall littered with graffiti and tagging, though most importantly, it writes; ‘ w. axl rose was here ’. it’s perfect, and it also happens to be the perfect reminder that axl’s birthday is just around the corner and is quickly creeping up on her.

     one late night after a long and tiring shift at the deli, elouise sits down on the floor of her studio apartment with a box and begins decorating it. using various different types and patterns of birthday gift wrap to line the inside of the box, she lays down some multi-coloured tissue paper and sprinkles the bottom of the box with metallic cut-outs of stars and zig-zags that come in green and purple — all purchased from the party store just around the block. carefully, she folds the shirt and wraps it in dainty blue tissue paper. the pocket knife, too — only for both bundles to be prettily tied with multi-coloured ribbons. she can’t help but smile at the job she’s done. loving the decorations and more so the thought of him seeing them for the first time, and then taking the time to open each gift individually. she honestly wishes that she could be there just to witness the opening of the gift, see the hopeful joy that it will bring him and see that darned smile of his. the thought brings about butterflies fluttering in the pit her stomach and she can’t pinpoint exactly why. it even has her blushing as she sits there, alone on cold and wooden floors as she thinks about a boy two and a half thousand miles away. rush’s closer to the heart playing softly on a nearby stereo. 

𝒚𝒐𝒖   𝒄𝒂𝒏   𝒃𝒆   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅   𝒊   𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍   𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐   𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒓   𝒕𝒐   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕

     that is when she has a lightbulb moment. a mixtape. what if she makes him a mixtape ? or two. pondering on it, it’s only a matter of seconds before bare hands and knees go crawling across hard floors to the cabinet on the wall. a storage place holding every record and every cassette tape she holds dear. her entire life story is tucked away on these shelves, written on various tracks and played through many differing instruments and riffs. suddenly, she feels the need to compact it all down onto one singular tape. a 60 minute run of her all time favourites. some songs that make her smile, some songs that move her to tears, and some songs that remind her of him. it’s a grand idea, but it’s one that she executes and executes well. after all, they are both virtuosos. they both live and breathe music, and she’s sure that axl will appreciate something such as this. especially given how dorky the end result is. a 60 minute tape of elouise, sitting on her apartment floor at nearly 5 in the morning, playing her all time favourites all whilst talking sappy in between songs. comments on how much she loves them, why she loves them, and how some of the said songs remind her of him. it’s a strange concoction of david bowie, the rolling stones, rush, led zeppelin, bob dylan, and last but most certainly not least — guns n’ roses. who happen to be the bearers of her number one, all time favourite song: DON’T CRY . 

     the final song begins to play and unlike the rest of the tracks, the quality of this one is by far the poorest. after all, it is a mere demo that he gave to her. a tape of a tape of a tape, and so on. but still — regardless of the quality — she believes it to be the greatest song that she has ever heard in her entire life, and makes sure to say so. a song that has miraculously got her through some of her darkest hours. moments of reflection, remembering those who let her down and those whom she let down. her mother, past lovers, friends that she no longer talks to anymore. and during the recording of this final song, elouise finds herself laying in the middle of the floor in her satin nightgown, her eyes gently shut — the tape recorder only inches from her head now as she slowly drives her fingers through her wild mane of auburn hair and hot tears form along the lines of her lashes. that guitar solo sending her to another planet, as it always does. her heart rate picks up entirely and by the end the solo, the singer is breaking out into a sweat upon axl’s sweet voice filling her ears again. it’s sonic therapy in it’s purest form, and it’s something she wants to thank him for — but now isn’t the time. she has to focus on finishing this tape, and ending it the way that she had planned to. so as the song comes to an end, the brunette is silent as she tries to pull herself together again. a deep breath audible in the recording before a whole lot of rustling and crackling can be heard, elouise rolling onto her stomach and leaning on her elbows, the tape recorder now in her shaky hands as she wishes the redhead a happy birthday, and then again through song. her voice sweet, soft — with lingering remnants of former sorrow albeit happiness as the gentle smile that sits upon her pretty lips can be FELT in the mere way that she delivers the hushed tune. 

❝ 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚   𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚   𝒕𝒐   𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚   𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚   𝒕𝒐   𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚   𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚   𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓   𝒂𝒙𝒍, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚   𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚   𝒕𝒐   𝒚—— .  ❞

     suddenly, the tape cuts and that is all. an entire sixty minutes of jovial conversation and song. an entire hour of elouise pouring out her heart and soul through music and laughter. it’s unlike anything she’s ever done for anyone before, and for a few days she even reconsiders whether she should be sending the tape to him. is it too personal ? is it too dorky ? is it just outright WEIRD of her ? these thoughts bubble about in her head like water boiling in a pot, tormenting her until one night she receives a phone call — less than a week now until the big day. it’s axl himself. to hear his voice is like music to her ears, her face aches from grinning so much, and any reluctance is suddenly pelted from her third-storey window. she can’t wait for him to receive the shirt, pocket knife, the goofy ten-to-one tape she stayed up all night recording for him, and now all the new york related knick knacks she has purchased for him in the meantime. new york candies, new york koozies — even a silver statue of liberty fridge magnet that doubles as a bottle opener and a keyring that bears the image of her beloved brooklyn bridge. atop all the bric-a-brac wrapped in pretty tissue paper is a ornate envelope, signed beautifully in his name with a card sitting inside. once opened, the card transcripts: 

to axl,

wishing you the happiest of birthdays, my dear friend. i hope that it is filled with laughter and joy, and that the guys are treating you like the king you are —— because you deserve it !!! anyway, i’d love nothing more than to be there with you to celebrate your special day but this whole living on polar opposite sides of the country thing really sucks ! sucks ass major ass ! it’s fine though, have a drink on me tonight and i’ll make sure we celebrate your born-day the next time we happen to cross paths ! 

p.s. —— call me whenever you find the time, i’ll probably to be dying to know whether this made it to you or otherwise is currently being held in the hands of some stranger ! haha !

whole lotta love,

elle with the z from nyc ! ♡

     it isn’t much, and it isn’t anything too extravagant — she’s a small-time singer working on minimum wage, after all. she just hopes that this is enough, and that he doesn’t see it as being too tacky. especially when she’s just forked out sixty percent of last week’s earnings to pay for a courier to drop the gift off to him on his birthday exactly. a big spend for her that she sees worth it, and a cross-country expedition that has the brunette stressing the entire four days it takes for it to arrive at his doorstep. afraid that it might get lost or even worse, stolen, as was expressed in the card. 

     the courier arrives at his apartment door with the box in hand, a notepad and pen atop the mysterious parcel as he raises a hand to knock upon the door — each tap against the wood filled with reluctance as he wonders if he has the wrong place, the wrong apartment. though before he can fret too much, the door is opening and he is being met with a redheaded figure. “ are you w. axl rose, by any chance ?  this parcel has just come all the way from new york. ” the young courier asks with a scratch of his head, though his question is answered immediately as the stranger nods his head in affirmation. “ sweet. i’ll get you to sign here and then it’s all yours, buddy. ” 

[your-high-lady]

Realisation

Disclaimer: I don't anything except for the plot. All credit goes towards Sarah J Mass.

Chapter 1  Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5   Chapter 6   Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Oh Feyre.

"Fuck. Fuck. Shit!" I immediately looked up and around when I practically shouted that, but thankfully no one was around and I couldn't hear any footsteps either. I sighed in relief before reluctantly looking back down at my drawing.

I'd drawn Rhys. I'd drawn him. Rhys!

"Oh for god's sake!" My hand dashed up to the top of the page and I began to tear the page out. But then I stopped.

For the first time since I'd opened my eyes, I actually saw what I'd drawn. It was the profile of Rhys's face. His arrogant smirk was there too, presumably because that was the most worn expression on his face and it was how my mind remembered him. But it was his eyes that caught my attention. Or, more specifically, the lines under his eyes which were paired with sadness in the eyes themselves. Lines and sadness caused by days and days of stress—and maybe crying, too—sat right under his eyes. Though his smile was wide, lifting his sharp cheekbones and making him look very handsome, the anguish was there. I suspected no one would have even noticed unless they looked closely enough.

I instantly wondered then why I had noticed the lines. It's not like I was looking closely, right? Right?

Right, yeah, totally.

Damn me.

—

Saturday.

It was finally here. I woke up this morning feeling unusually energetic and happy. In fact, I was feeling so buoyant I decided to make blueberry pancakes. Once Mor had woken up, I sat her down at the small round table we were using as a dining table and made more pancakes as she ate them. At least four huuuuge pancakes later, I finally heard a groan from behind me, and I turned around to find Mor shaking her head at me, her hands held over her stomach. I chuckled at her and nodded in understanding. Mor gave me hug from behind and went into her bedroom, while I made myself some more pancakes before turning the stove off and settling down into my own seat to have my own breakfast. I'd just had a couple of bites before Mor came out dressed in her gym clothes. As she put her trainers on, she said, "Thank you so much for those pancakes but this body isn't this good on its own." I laughed and waved her on as she gave me a flying kiss and exited out of the front door to go on her daily run. I assumed she would be out longer today so that she could burn off the extra fat. Once I'd washed all the dishes I decided to go into my room and just do some drawing and maybe some colouring too before I started cleaning the whole house.

It only took me about ten minutes to lose myself in my drawing, and then another thirty to realise what exactly I had done. In the forty or so minutes I'd been drawing, I'd done three sketches, and was now in the middle of colouring the second. Looking at the page beneath my fingers, I found Rhys's eyes staring back at me. It was a bit disorienting because one of his eyes was only half done and none of them had the silver flecks but still. Anyone who knew Rhys would know these are his eyes.

But would they see the sadness in them, I wondered. Because I could still see it. But beneath the sadness was also beauty. True, natural beauty caused by years of laughing and smiling and happiness. What could've happened to him, that caused that beauty to be overridden by such subtle grief? Were his arrogance and attitude also another result of what had happened to him? If anything happened to him. Maybe he was just like that. Sad, snobby, annoying.

But the beauty. It was so stunningly breath-taking and unique. I'd never seen anything like it and all that did for me was make Rhys's eyes even more special. I knew what I'd drawn was nothing compared to his real eyes. I still remembered them as if they were branded to the inside of my eyelids and every time I blinked or closed my eyes, they would flash before my eyes.

His eyes were singular. They couldn't be recreated. It was physically impossible.

Hearing a shout outside my window, I jumped before looking outside to find two teenagers throwing water balloons at each other, screaming with excitement. Shaking my head as I turned away from the window, I realised where my thoughts had been going, and immediately ripped the page out of my book, balled the paper up and chucked it into the dustbin in the back corner of my room. I stared at the bin for three very long seconds before jumping out my bed and fetching the paper-ball out of the bin. I unravelled the paper and tried flattening it out on the wall, before giving up and just sliding it into the thickest of my school workbooks. I snatched up my wireless headphones from my desk and turned up the music so loud that I couldn't hear my own thoughts, which were all about sharp cheekbones, arrogant smirks and bright purple eyes, and started cleaning the house.

—

I'd just turned the vacuum off when I heard the front door open and close. Mor came in with a shopping bag in her hands, and when she caught me looking at them curiously, she smirked and wriggled her eyebrows around in a cheeky way before heading off into the kitchen. Her voice trailed behind her, "Go have a bath Feyre, you stink. I'm gonna make you the best chicken wrap you'll ever have." And just as those last few words escaped her mouth, I heard a thud which was promptly followed by Mor's cursing. Shaking my head, a light chuckle escaping my lips, I put the vacuum away before heading into the bathroom and using the hot water to calm my nerves, which had instantly come back when I'd turned the music off. I guessed it was only going to work as a temporary distraction. Well, that sucks.

—

Groaning, I quickly swallowed my bite and turned to Mor. "These are amazing, Mor. How did you make these?" It was around two in the evening right now, and we had settled in to watch a movie, while we ate the "best chicken wrap that will ever reach your lips." I'd given her a strange look when she said those words, but she'd just given me the finger and set off to put it all together. And needless to say, I was surprised. Very surprised. She gave me a wide smile and said, "You like it?"

"Yeah, I like it." I scoffed. "How the heck did you make these?" But, being the annoying ass she is, she just smiled even wider and shook her head, turning back to watch the TV screen. I huffed in annoyingness but accepted the fact that I'll never be able to make these wraps on my own. Soon I was engrossed into the movie and lost track of time.

—

We were running late. Rhys would come to pick us up at seven so that gave us about forty-five minutes to get ready. We quickly took turns in the shower, did our makeup and everything, and chose our dresses, with Mor helping me a little in those last couple departments.

Sighing, I looked at myself in the mirror. Mor was scrambling around the room trying to find her shoes, but it was easy to ignore her. Bringing my eyes back to my reflection, I ran my eyes over my outfit. Grey, plain except for simple thin lines running up and down and side to side, wide pants paired with a light blue sweater. The knitting was beautiful, the simple swirls and patterns a part of the knitting. I was warm and covered. The outfit did nothing for my figure; I liked it that way. I didn't want anyone to notice me.

But you want Rhys to notice you. I cursed at that small voice in the back of my head, shoving it even further away. I hated that part of my brain. I didn't want anyone to notice me. I didn't want to date. I didn't want to kiss anyone. I didn't want to be in any relationship with anyone except for Mor and my family, and that was only because I knew they would never betray or hurt me. But Rhys, Cassian and Azriel. Though all them seemed really nice—Rhys, less than the other two—I couldn't bring myself to trust any of them completely, no matter how safe or happy or even how hot they made me feel. I didn't want that. Not now, not ever. Not after him.

My thoughts made the anger came back. Ever time I thought of him or what happened that night, my blood boiled with anger. How dare Tamlin give Dagdan, or anyone for that matter, the permission to take me away? As if I were an object, something to play with. I was not something to be played with. I would not ever be played with again. I decided that, at that moment, as I stared at myself in the mirror.

The doorbell fell rang, and I opened the door. Rhys, who had knocked on the door, nodded at me in greeting. I nodded back, swallowing back my thoughts about all the sketches and drawings I'd done of him. As I locked the door behind Mor and me, she got into the car. I noticed Cassian, Azriel and another woman, who Azriel later introduced as Amren, were already sitting in the car. Cassian was right at the back, with Azriel and Amren in the middle row and now Mor had just joined them…which left the front seat empty. The passenger seat next to Rhys.

I got butterflies in my stomach as I forced myself to keep my face straight as Rhys opened the door for me. I noticed his hands come up but thankfully they went back down without touching me. He probably didn't want a repeat of our first handshake. Once I was settled in, Rhys headed over to the other side and soon we were off. I didn't know how long the drive was, but I could hear Cassian, Azriel and Mor conversing not so quietly between themselves. I didn't particularly feel like talking to Rhys, so I turned around to look at Amren, who was gazing out her window. "So, Amren. Tell me a little about yourself." I said, a small smile lifting my lips. Her head turned to look at me and I sucked in a small breath, surprised—and honestly, intimidated, too—by her molten silver eyes. In the light coming from outside, I could see that Amren was thin with shoulder-length black hair that gleamed in the light. She was pretty, but unlike Mor and her friends, her face bordered on plain. While I found Mor's friends intimidating because of their beauty, Amren intimated me with her… aura. Though I didn't really want to think that about Amren, she kinda terrified me.

But then she smiled, and instantly I felt a whole lot more comfortable in her presence. "I'm majoring in law. I'm finding it really fun, so far. I really hope I can get somewhere with that. But I'm sure you don't care about that. Have you ever tried cheerleading? It's sooooo much fun. You should really try it…" And just like that, I spent the next fifteen or so minutes of the drive talking with Amren and getting to know her really well. Just as Amren was about to tell me a funny story about her boyfriend, Varian, Mor shouted, "Karaoke! We need to do karaoke!" Immediately Cassian and Azriel piped up with their own excited yes's, which apparently was enough for Mor because she quickly came up to the front, jabbed her finger at the screen on the dashboard, before hopping back into her seat. Seconds later, Ariana Grande's strong voice poured through speakers.

It was just Mor and Cassian's voices filling the small space until the chorus came and, surprising me, Rhys joined in too, his soft voice and humming, reaching my ears.

Ain't got no tears left to cry

So I'm pickin' it up, pickin' it up (oh yeah)

I'm lovin', I'm livin', I'm pickin' it up

By the end of a few more songs, Azriel and Amren joined in too, leaving me as the only person not singing.

And of course, Rhys noticed.

They sang a couple more songs before Rhys gave me a cheeky smile, which he tried to suppress by biting his lower lip. Unfortunately for me, that just made my stomach churn even more and I had to turn my face away. Seconds later the music went quiet and got replaced with Rhys's alluring voice, "Mor, have you been hearing Feyre's voice?" He raised his eyebrows at her reflection through the rear-view mirror. She frowned and turned to look at me, her eyes narrowing. I noticed Cassian smirking and though I was sorely tempted to stick my tongue out at him, I just narrowed my eyes at him, before turning back to Mor. 'What?" I snapped.

"You haven't been singing."

"No. I haven't."

"Rhys, would you be so kind as to tell our lovely Feyre what happens when someone doesn't participate in my games." Her shrewd eyes didn't move away as she said that. I turned to look at Rhys, and he glanced over to me before looking back at the road and smirked. "Well, Mor, it depends on the game, but in this particular situation, I think we all agreed that the person would have to sing at least two or three songs on their own."

"Oh, that's right." Mor mock-gasps in reply, before saying to me, "I guess that means you're on your own now, Feyre." She shrugged innocently as if she had no idea what effect she was having on me. My narrowed eyes transferred into a small frown. "I don't want to sing," I said, quietly. I really didn't. I didn't feel like attracting any attention. But then I felt someone's hand come and rest on mine. I just barely resisted the urge to slap his hand away as I looked up into Rhys's violet eyes, and was once again blown away by just how mesmerising they were. I could truly get lost in the beautiful depthless. "Do you want me to sing with you?" He asked with a voice as quiet as mine had been. I gave him a small nod, and he turned his gaze to Mor. "Play the Jonas Brothers, Sucker." She smiled in triumph before quickly pressing a few buttons on her phone. And just like that, Nick Jonas's voice started pouring through the speakers. Rhys sang the first two lines on his own before raising his eyebrows, his head bobbing along with the music. I sighed quietly before opening my mouth up.

—

Twenty minutes later, I was laughing and probably singing the loudest out of everyone in the car. After that first song, I'd gotten a bit more confident and since then my voice had only raised in volume, and when I didn't know the words, I hummed along with the tune. It was the first time I'd truly let go since that terrible night back in Auckland. I was happy: I was letting myself enjoy this time with Mor and her friends. I was glad I was still capable of laughing and having fun because I'd seriously started wondering whether or not I would ever be able to fully let myself go and just enjoy the pleasures of life. I was glad I'd let Mor convince to come along. I was glad I was laughing.

But behind those thoughts was the thought of why I was having so much fun in the first place. Rhys. He'd made me feel less nervous. The butterflies in my stomach had been replaced with a different type of butterflies when he touched me. Heat had spread across my whole body, especially through my core. I'd had to squeeze my legs a little to alleviate the pressure that had built up between my legs. I'd long accepted the fact that Rhys could do that to me. I just put it off to his looks though, every time it happened. There was no other reason for it.

AN: Did you like it? I know I say this every time, but I hope you liked it. Feel free to leave a review or any feedback/forward you have for me. Everything is appreciated. Thank you for reading, hope to see you soon, next time. XOXO

[jungnoir]

are you accepting requests? if you are, please write fluff for jaemin or jisung from nct!! idc what but i noticed they don’t have anything and i love them uwu thanks

friends to lovers!jaemin and jisung

a/n: I’m not accepting requests but… I’m also bored and stuck on everything else so here’s this tiny thing

⎡JAEMIN⎦

the annoying spicy best friend and boy next door until senior year

you guys lived right next to each other so of course you always hung out!! despite going to the same school and spending the whole day together already, you spend even more time with each other when you get home

you’d beg your parents to allow you both to play in the front yard and kick balls around or play hide and seek in jaemin’s huge backyard until dinner time and even sometimes past that

as you both got older, you’d get to hang out later, so you’d both chill in jaemin’s hammock in the late evening because you both were small enough to fit and tell each other funny or scary stories while the bugs left bites littered over your arms and legs (not that you really cared until you went home and couldn’t stop scratching)

you never thought of jaemin in a different way, though everyone else thought you did

play fights were commonplace between you two so whenever you’d get particularly rough with each other ur friends would be like “lol there go the lovebirds <3”

and it was gross

it was…

gross

?

it was gross up until high school when your hormones kicked in and hey. jaemin is kinda gross. you still remember when he used to plant boogers on your locker handle or tackle you in sweaty arms if he lost to you in a game of kiddy basketball

but now jaemin doesn’t look like scrawny, stinky little jaemin anymore

no, now he can pick you up off the ground with two arms around your waist and laugh in your ear about how you should be more aware of your surroundings

now when he ruffles your hair he follows up with gently patting down the stray hairs, both hands smoothing down from the crown of your hair to the tops of your ears to the curve of your neck

now when he gives you those dark, mischievous eyes and asks “can I stay over tonight?” you can’t say you don’t shiver

you remember a time when you both were so young and so close that your parents would give you baths together for pete’s sake

and now you can’t even stand in your bedroom, ten feet away from each other, and look each other in the eye

he sits on your bed, slouched and flipping through channels on your tv

but when he sees you enter in just a pair of shorts and a giant shirt (his, though it’s been years since he’d last seen it)… he doesn’t quite remember what he was so focused on doing a few seconds ago

“…did you find a movie?” you ask softly, padding over to the other side of your bed as he immediately sits up and draws his long limbs to his sides

“oh! uh… no dice. maybe we should just rewatch something you have here?”

you shrug, point to the popcorn he’s got on your nightstand, and allow yourself a silent heave of air when he’s not looking your way anymore

he retrieves a movie you two have watched so many times before that you can recite the words together and not miss a beat

so it. it feels different tonight. somehow

there’s just a bowl of popcorn separating your hands from finding the other’s and this odd tension in the air that was birthed the minute you walked into your room after telling jaemin you were just gonna “change into something movie night-worthy”

you two don’t end up throwing yourselves over each other like usual, being deliberately annoying and clingy just to make the other person laugh

the movie is about halfway through when jaemin suddenly moves the popcorn to the floor and rolls onto his side, resting his head on his fist as he stares at you

“what?” you ask, v aware of the warmth he’s giving off now that there’s no barrier between you

“nothing”

“it’s gotta be something if you’re just staring at me for no reason” you drag your knees up to your chest to somehow make yourself smaller under his gaze, even to bury your cheeks between your knees so that you could make sure he didn’t see the little twitch in your lip, the want to laugh nervously or spout out some ridiculousness to get him to stop looking at you building up in your tummy

“can’t I just look at you for no reason?” he scoots a little closer, maybe attempting to look funny to you as he says this but,,, he’s doing a really bad job of it

because he doesn’t look funny. if anything, he looks kind of… what is the word?

you bite your lip, “sorry, gotta pay to look”

“what’s your preferred currency, honey?”

oh my GOD shut up jaemin

you push at his chest, trying to ignore how your hand annoyingly remembers the mold of it even after you’d touched him

“silence” you joke, watching as he licks his lips and sits up so that he’s level with you

he reaches forward and cups your chin, glancing between your eyes and your lips

he isn’t even subtle about it

your mouth parts unconsciously, a sudden understanding to this tension you’ve both been feeling hitting you hard

jaemin resists the urge to run his thumb over your bottom lip when it gets released from you teeth, if only to spend this next moment looking at your face

and he’s not even surprised that you can feel it too

“you’ll have to be specific, there’s all kinds of silence”

you don’t know what this is

no, scratch that, you know exactly what it is, but you don’t know if you want to admit it to yourself yet

maybe you could get away with that for now

neither of you would hold it against the other if you just. tried it out once, right?

and so you lean in that much closer, breaths mingling unavoidably now

“getting specific enough for you?”

of course not

⎡JISUNG⎦

idk why i’m so obsessed with this visual of gamer!jisung but hear me out

gamer!jisung, best friends with your best friends aka the other dreamies, but probably the only one you can never get close to

besides the fact he’s a certified bully to the boys, you’re the only one that he isn’t… silly with

like he’ll have renjun in a headlock and then make eye contact with you and the mood immediately dies

you’ve asked each of the boys what the problem might be

are u scary? are u not his type of person to hang around? was he still put off by that time you body slammed mark into a wall?

ok you didn’t actually body slam him but he swears he felt his feet leave the ground for a moment

not your fault he has the weight of a singular macaroni noodle

jisung always talks to you respectfully and if he can, talks to you through the others

it wasn’t… fun… having jisung treat you this way

he was always your favorite not that you have favorites *ahem* forgive me, donghyuck *ahem* so it was v :///// u know

you really wanted him to be able to treat you like he treated the other boys!! because you’d gladly treat him the way you treat the others if only you had the CHANCE

or at least you’d like to know why he didn’t so you could have some kind of closure

jisung happens to run a gaming club at school, and with permission, the “club” (which mainly consisted of all of you) would stay behind after classes and play together in one of the abandoned classrooms

you always had to play against the others bc jisung never wanted to give anyone (you) the floor to challenge him

so one day, you just decide that you’ll sit in and observe jisung play against donghyuck in overwatch

and donghyuck is obliterating jisung

you’ve never seen donghyuck this good, getting excited enough to run over to donghyuck’s side and cheer him on

you place your hand on donghyuck’s shoulder

and jisung looks away from the screen for just one second to see it

right then, donghyuck destroys jisung with a victorious yell

of course, you’re both caught up in the excitement of the moment so the first person he hugs is you

and this is pretty normal for you guys; between wrestling around and being affectionate, it was never weird to receive a hug from anyone except jisung

then you hear a controller clatter to the floor and by the time you’ve peeled away from donghyuck at the loud sound, you see jisung storming out of the classroom

the other boys looked shocked, some even looking between each other, unsure what to do

you notice chenle about to offer to go after him when you stop him, “i’ll go calm him down… he’s probably just upset about the match, you know how he gets”

chenle nods for you to go, gnawing lightly on his bottom lip

you find jisung sitting on the stairs outside the school exit, his head resting in his hands as the evening grows later

the sun nearly blinds you as you move to sit next to him, mulling over what to say

after all, you two weren’t that close in the first place. surely you were the last person he wanted to see right now

without looking up, jisung begins grumbling, “I know, okay? you don’t have to lecture me about it”

you blink

you weren’t planning to lecture him at all!

“I know that it’s stupid to get upset but the game was getting to me and-”

you’re about to cut him off, tell him it’s okay, that it’s just a game and some people get upset about those things but that you all knew it wasn’t that deep

“-you know how much I’m crushing on (y/n)… when I saw them cheering for hyuck, I just lost all focus. it’s pathetic. I wish I could just man up and tell them instead of avoiding them all the time”

oh

jisung… didn’t know it was you

he sounds so distraught too, like he was upset he let himself get angry, upset he let you see him show emotion

you place a hand on jisung’s shoulder and instantly he tenses. you think it’s because he wasn’t expecting a touch but it’s because he knows this hand doesn’t belong to the others

so it had to be…

“it’s not pathetic. if anything is pathetic, it’s that it’s taken donghyuck this long to finally win against you in a game, and even then, you were distracted so it technically doesn’t count”

jisung raises his head and his eyes look rimmed red, frustrated

but his expression is gentle when he sees the caring look on your face

“…hyuck would kill you if he heard that” he mumbles, looking down at his hands

you just giggle and bump his shoulder with yours, “ah, I know. but he also knows you’re my favorite so…”

jisung looks back up at you in shock. “f-favorite?”

you hum, moving your hand from his shoulder to the one furthest from you, wrapping an arm around him so that he has to lean into you. he’s never been so close but it’s. nice. your shampoo smells. nice 

“you don’t think it’s weird? what I said?” jisung looks a little mortified when he remembers that he’d just confessed to you, albeit unknowingly, and you were acting like everything was ok

you look back over to him and shake your head, “not at all… I hope this means you’ll stop avoiding me, though”

jisung doesn’t know how to feel at first; he had always assumed that telling you about his crush would either result in you returning his feelings or cutting off all contact with him

but instead, you don’t do either. you just watch the sunset with him, holding onto him

he also sees that you’re just as wonderful as he thought you’d be. you haven’t told him that you return his feelings but he doesn’t feel terrible at all. if anything, he feels ten times lighter after realizing he never had to hide from you in the first place

he checks to see that you’ll let him before wrapping his arm around your waist and offering you a sheepish smile, “sounds good to me”

besides, he may think you don’t return his feelings, but it’s just a matter of time until he realizes the truth about that too

[yodawgiherd]

Cat Maid Appreciation Day

Rating: E

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Now I know that I said that the new manga chapters usually make me write smut, but here I decided to move ahead of the curve. After all, it’s not like the suffering will stop anytime soon. Plus it fits to the plot sooo....yea....

Enjoy!

Now there were some perfectly normal explanations for the situation Eren just found himself in. First, he could be sleeping, so he pinched his arm to make sure. It stung, and no waking up followed, so that opinion was swiftly off the table. Second, he could be in the wrong house, but a quick check of his surroundings confirmed that he was either really home, or that someone had the exact same taste in furniture as he and Mikasa had. Discarding those two, the last thing he could think of was that the person waiting for him wasn’t his fiancé, but someone else entirely. Yet the figure looked exactly the same, with the Asian features, scar on her cheek, even the tattoo on the wrist was in place. Well, it seemed like that Eren was forced to accept the reality after all. This was his house, he wasn’t dreaming, and the person watching him with a slightly amused expression was no one else but Mikasa.

This realization however begged the question of what the hell was happening, because Eren didn’t remember recently saving the lives of fifty children or a litter of puppies to deserve what he saw. For reasons unknown, Mikasa seemed to go all out tonight, dressing in a way that made his pulse race. Maid dress hugged her curves, the classic black and white, with a very modest cleavage exposing next to no skin. Her long legs were covered by white stockings and following the line Eren could see that she picked black high heels to complete her set. Upon closer inspection he noticed a few more details, previously overlooked. Mikasa’s hair has grown, and she had it tied into two braids, one falling left and one right. Between them, sitting snuggly, were nothing else but those cat ears he loved so much. Sucking in a breath, Eren’s scanned lower, looking for other little things he missed, loving the outfit already. Her neck was decorated by the collar, thick black leather with a silver circle in front, standing out against the white skin. Together, the cat-maid she created was the perfect combination of hot and cute, and Eren was silently thanking his lucky stars for being blessed with someone like this.

“You okay, master?”, she asked, cocking her head to the side. It was an understandable concern, considering that he just spent the last ten minutes by simply staring at her.

“I’m great.”, he croaked, clearing his throat afterwards. “Miki, rest assured that I appreciate this, I really fucking do, and I love what you’ve done, but please, can you tell me why? All this…”, he gestured towards her, and the table behind her, all lit up with candles, “it just seems like so much.”

“You’ve been always there for me.”, she said, directing her gaze to the floor and blushing slightly, “When I’m tired or sick, or anything, you always take such a good care of me. I can’t even count the number of times my muscles ached, or I had cramps, and you just dropped everything to give me a massage to make me feel better. So now that you’ve been so tired lately, I thought that I might return the favor.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel,”, it was hard to keep the excitement from his voice, but Eren managed. Somehow. “I’m totally on board.”

“Great.”, Mikasa looked back up, smiling slightly. She took a step back, towards the table. “Shall we?”, she asked, and not waiting for an answer turned on her heel and walked to the light. Following, Eren noticed one more thing he failed to see before. There was the tail peeking from underneath her skirt, swaying with the movements of her hips.

Sitting down, he looked at the table, frowning slightly. There was plenty of food, but only one plate, as if he was expected to eat alone.

“You won’t join me?”, he asked Mikasa, who was busying herself by opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate for a maid to dine with her master.”, she said, coming closer and leaning over him to fill his glass. The instinct to catch her and pull her on his lap was strong, but he forced his hands down. It was not the time for that. Yet. If she wanted to serve him like this, it was common courtesy to let her. To get his mind off her, as if that was even possible, he focused on the food, stacking his plate. True to her word, Mikasa didn’t join him, but stood at attention at the side, seemingly ready to attend his needs. The food was good, great even, however Eren did miss the playful banter they usually shared while eating, although he couldn’t deny that it was relaxing, just sitting back and letting someone else take care of everything. Finished, Eren stood up, stretching his hands over his head, feeling pleasantly tired by work, but with Mikasa like this, sleeping was rather far down on his to-do list.

“Does master wish to retire?”, she asked, ever so vigilant.

“That depends,”, Eren turned towards her, closing the distance in two steps. Reaching out, he swiped a thumb over her cheek. “Do you want to go to bed,”, leaning forward, he let his lips brush the shell of her ear, “or do you want to play?”

Oh, she hoped very much that he’s going to say exactly those words. He didn’t miss the way she shivered, or the singular word that left her lips.

“Play.”

Shit Miki, that’s all you had to say. Giving in to his needs, momentarily, Eren pressed his lips against hers, running his hands up her stocking covered thighs to cup her ass, squeezing her firm flesh. That move made her gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue inside her mouth, deepening the kiss.

“I’m going to make some changes to your costume, is that okay?”, he whispered when the control over his actions returned to him, the first taste satisfying the most pressing need.

“I’m yours tonight master.”, Mikasa’s whisper was heated, letting Eren know that he wasn’t the only one with head in the clouds, “Do whatever you want with me.”

Intent on making full use of that statement, Eren’s mind raced wild with possibilities. With an evil grin, he slipped out of her arms and upstairs, searching for a few objects he needed to complete the perverted picture his mind already painted for him. Mikasa hasn’t moved the whole time while he was gone, waiting obediently exactly as he left her. Dumping the stuff on the couch for now, Eren approached his maid, running his fingers over the fabric of the dress.

“This needs to go.”

She nodded, turning around to let him access the zipper at the back. With practiced move, he pulled it down, taking a step back afterwards to admire the way she shook her hips, making it slide down her legs and on the floor. As gentleman, he offered her a hand which she graciously took, stepping out of the crumpled cloth. With that out of the way, Eren could finally see the origins of the cat tail. To test him even further, Mikasa picked the cat underwear to dress in tonight, the paw shaped cleavage on her chest and the tailed panties, one of his favorites. To see her in, not wear himself, of course.

“Still too much?”, she teased, giving him a full turn to appreciate her efforts from all angles. It was his turn to nod, so she unclipped her bra, slowly, throwing it away, and when Eren still didn’t seem satisfied Mikasa pulled down her panties too, baring herself to him. She lost her tail, but Eren seemed happy nonetheless, signaling that he had something in stock for her. Considering that she hit him with the whole cat maid thing just about half an hour back, the fact that he managed to cook something up already showed just how good Eren was at thinking on his feet. After a moment of appreciating her naked body, because he always needed to do that, he set off towards the couch, with Mikasa quickly following, heels clicking against the floor.

“Now then.”, watching Eren rummage through the things he brought ignited a fire in the pit of her stomach, and Mikasa’s hands curled into fists at her sides to prevent her fingers from touching herself. “You have the ears and the collar, but the loss of your tail cannot be tolerated.”, he straightened, holding a very familiar thing, “Luckily I came prepared.”

All it took him was a quick tap at the cushion for her to bend over for him, leaning on it while he lubed up his fingers in preparation. Mikasa had to bite her bottom lip to stifle her moan when he pressed one inside, the familiar stretch being so welcome. Three years back, if someone told her that she will love having her ass played with, she would most likely punch the person in the face, yet here she was. Face down, bottom up, wanton sounds spilling from her throat as he stretched her in preparation for the tail plug. It slid in rather easy, filling her, the sensation very pleasant. But when she tried straightening, thinking that this part was done, Eren kept her down with a hand at the back of her neck.

“I don’t want to neglect any part of you kitty.”, he murmured into her hair, kissing the spot behind her ear, “So give me a moment.”

Curious, she stayed down, impatient to see what will come next. Something pressed against her mouth, cold and metallic, with an “Open.” command from Eren. Mikasa obeyed, letting him push it in, tracing the toy with her tongue after. Two weighted balls, connected by a string, judging from her exploration.

“You may be wondering why I put those in your mouth.”, Eren said from behind her, hands massaging her butt, “I want you to warm them up before I insert them where they truly belong.”

With her ass already occupied, it was easy to understand what he meant.

“Oh man, its so hard to measure time, right kitty?”

Normally, Mikasa would point out that there was perfectly functioning clock on the wall, but her mouth was rather busy at the moment. Not to worry, Eren already had a plan.

“I think that if you hold it for ten slaps, it’s going to be ready.”, he decided, bringing his palm down on her ass. Hard. The impact stung, but the effect it had on the plug was what really sold the idea, making Mikasa moan helplessly around the metal. He grinned.

“One.”

Bastard took his time, so when he finally finished, at the tenth, Mikasa’s rear was all nice and red, with her panting into the couch. After retrieving the balls from her mouth, now pleasantly warmed up, Eren carefully pressed them against her aching entrance, pushing in one, and then the second, very amused when she made those needy sounds again. Only now, with both of her holes full, stretched by toys, he allowed her to straighten. Needles to say that any movement was sending waves of pleasure from her core.

“Now what about these puppies.”, master’s hands were on her chest now, squeezing the pliant flesh, playing with the hardened nipples. Mikasa knew that it was only a rhetorical question, so she arched her back instead of answering, pressing her body closer to his touch, only for it to disappear as Eren returned to his bundle of wonders. The toy of his choice proved to be…. earrings?

On closer inspection, Mikasa concluded that those were no jewelry. Different from the clamps they used in the past, those were separate, one for each nipple, not ending with a chain but rather with a weight at the end, small shiny piece of metal. When Eren attached it, it pulled, the bite a bit harder than their usual jaws, nothing that she couldn’t handle though. Following the left with right, she was soon decorated like a Christmas tree, breathing heavily. All those toys and attention Eren brought her came together to a single fact. Mikasa was soaking wet right now.

“All done.”, Eren had a faint smile on his face, “Now I think it’s time to relax.”

With confused expression, Mikasa watched him sit down on the couch, picking up the remote and turning the Tv on.

“Come stand next to me kitty, I might need you.”

She followed, in slow shuffling steps, trying her best not to rattle the toys too much.

“Eyes down, back straight, “, he ordered, “hands behind your back.”

Seeing her obey, he reached out and caressed her beaten ass, lightly, before picking up the controller and turning his console on. Eyes narrowing, Mikasa finally understood. He was planning on ignoring her, letting her drip next to him, while he would play those games of his. Well, if that’s what he wanted, there’s nothing she would do, this was Eren’s evening. Just as she was coming to terms with it, the plug turned on inside her, vibrating against the muscles, making her bite back a curse. Bastard.

On his end, Eren was immensely pleased with himself. Taking the ideas he came up with and turning them against him was usually Mikasa’s playing field, but now he’s done exactly the same to her, arguably even smarter. Making him go down to his hands and knees in front of her and resting her feet on his back was a fun game, although he had to admit that being the top in this kind of play was rather amusing too. His focus on the screen was pretended, as Eren kept throwing sidelong glances at his maid, watching her squirm and writhe on the spot, the plug making her go crazy. Now now, he couldn’t allow such movements, the memory of her cane on his ass was far too fresh for that. Reaching out, he grabbed the crop, swatting it against her butt.

“I told you to keep your back straight kitty.”, another hit, “So check you posture, will you?”

Gritting her teeth, most likely holding a string of curses in, Mikasa obeyed, straightening her back to the best of her ability. Satisfied, Eren put the crop back on the couch, once again focusing on the game. From time to time he was forced to pick it up, when she sagged, overcome, to remind her to keep her back straight, hitting her not very strongly, but smart. A small sting right above her wet mound, or directing it against the nipples, next to the clamp, that got the job done. Yet there are feats that are simply impossible and playing well while your naked fiancé is sweating just a few feet away from you was one of those. He got beat, rather soundly, and the sounds of his defeat seemed to coax a reaction out of her. She smirked. A tiny thing he would surely miss if he wasn’t paying such a close attention to her face, but those movements of her body, the way she bit her bottom lip, or how her eyes fluttered shut, fighting against the pleasure, that was way more interesting than the game. And now she had the gall to laugh at him. Oh, you little…

“Something funny?”, he asked, meeting her amused eyes with an inquisitive look of his own.

Mikasa shook her head.

“No master.”

“No? I could swear that I heard you laughing kitty.”

“Must have been the wind.”

Her features didn’t even twitch, as she was lying right into his face. He surely couldn’t leave it like that.

“Come here kitty.”

She shuffled her way between his legs, looking down at him.

“Yes master?”

“I think you are lying kitty.”

Mikasa just shrugged, not even bothering to deny it.

“Kneel.”

When she did, he turned the plug inside her off. No distractions.

“Now listen,”, Eren leaned forward, fisting her hair, “I want you to get me off with your mouth now. And I’d advise you to do your best, because your performance will directly affect how hard I punish you after for lying.”

Challenge accepted, Mikasa reached out to undo his zipper, finding him exactly as hard as she expected him to be. Not much of a surprise, really, considering what she wore for the night. So, he wanted her to bring her a-game, huh? Time to blow his mind then. Angling him to the side, she trailed a string of kisses from the base to the tip, pressing one right at the head before swirling her tongue around. Seemingly obvious to her care, Eren turned the game back on, watching the screen. She wasn’t angry at that, she did the exact same thing to him, but the implication that he can still play while she’s blowing him was a direct insult to her ego, one that she wouldn’t stand for. Doubling her efforts, she sucked around him, not missing the way the Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

Admittedly, Eren fought valiantly, but Mikasa had years of training in this, and he had no chance of ever coming on top. Even with the flicking vision, he kept the game up while she worked, hollowing her cheeks around his length. But then Mikasa deepthroated him, and his eyes rolled up, the controller falling from Eren’s numb fingers and clattering on the floor with neither of them paying attention. Her head continued bobbing up and down at a steady rhythm, working all around him with her tongue, while Eren gave up, melting into the couch and closing his eyes, fully intent on enjoying her show, one hand going to the thick of her hair, fingers moving over the cat ears. The way her throat pulsed around him, how the tip of her tongue circled the head, how her hand worked the rest of his length while the other fondled his balls lightly, all that were the results of everything they did together, and it was downright heavenly.

“Kitty, I’m…”, Eren pulled on her braid gently, signaling how close he was, more of a courtesy than an actual warning. He knew that she wouldn’t pull back. After all, they worked on that together too, ever since college.

“You don’t have to do this.”, he said, watching her rise from her knees and spit to the sink, wiping the corner of her mouth with her sleeve.

“It’s fine,”, she shook her head, “I’ll get used to it.” She smiled at him encouragingly. “You never complain when you go down on me.”

“I like how you taste.”

She blushed a bit on upon hearing that.

“I just want you to know that you don’t have to force yourself, you know, if you dislike it.”, Eren caressed her cheek, “Won’t make me stop loving you.”

“You could eat more fresh fruit,”, Mikasa suggested, “I heard that pineapple helps.”

“So now I must change my diet because of you?”, he grinned, “Never knew that being in a relationship could be so taxing.”

“You don’t have to do anything.”, she pointed out, squeezing past him and out of the bathroom “But if you want me to do this more often, you know what to do.”

Ever since that day, Eren became one of the biggest fruit consumers on the campus. For his health, of course, what other reason could there be?

Pineapple and such were still very prominent in Eren’s diet, so it was no surprise when Mikasa swallowed around him again, forcing the orgasm to wreck through his body, letting him come inside her mouth with a deep growl. Not that she would admit it, but she grew rather fond of the taste over the years. The gentle massage of his jewels combined with the stimulation of her mouth didn’t stop, releasing him only after she was sure that he had nothing more to give.

“How did I do?”

Still twitching slightly, Eren snorted, slowly getting his breathing back under control. For this performance, he would very well forgive Mikasa if she burned down the whole house, but the master couldn’t appear so soft.

“Acceptable.”, he breathed out, however judging from the expression on her face he wasn’t fooling anybody. “Let’s get up to the bedroom, so I can punish you.”

Refraining from commenting, she stood up, pressing her lips together to stop another sound coaxed by that plug. But after making two steps towards the bedroom, Eren turned it on again, making her trip and almost fall, mostly thanks to those stupid high heels.

“Something wrong?”, he asked so sweetly that the words were almost dripping with honey. Straightening, Mikasa resumed her walk, with Eren just a step behind, both to catch her if she stumbled again and to admire her from behind as closely as possible. Reaching the bedroom, she stood in the middle, refusing to face him while biting the inside of her cheek, not willing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her. He came close, pressing his chest against her back, hands roaming over her front with interest.

“You’re so wet.”, he commented, tracing her dripping slit with a fingertip, but ignoring the way she tried rocking against him, denying her more contact. Instead, he moved his hands upwards, cupping both of her breasts while pressing his lips to the patch of skin on her neck not covered by the leather collar. Mikasa was slowly growing desperate, aroused beyond imagination, but all he did was drop his palms back down, fingering the edge of her white stockings, the only clothing on her body apart from the shoes. Oh, and the ears, can’t forget those.

“Maybe you should do something about it then.”, she gritted through clenched teeth, rubbing her butt on his front.

“See, I would do that,”, he pulled back, frustrating her even more, “but I have to punish you first, don’t I. Rules are rules. Now, get on the bed.”

She fell down, pressing her face into the mattress. This teasing was slowly becoming unbearable, and Eren seemed far from done. Retrieving something, he approached her fallen form, and she could feel his hand creeping up her ankle, closing over it. The hug of his fingers was soon replaced by a binding, and right after Eren moved over, tying her other leg the same way.

“Hands.”, he ordered, pulling them down between her legs and tying her wrists to the same length of metal as her legs. Finally looking down, she could see that both of her legs and arms were now secured to a singular spreader bar, limiting her movements. “Now then,”, a hand caressed her cheeks, “Let’s begin.”

The flogger came unexpected, falling on her rear in steady rhythm, the sting making her hiss a few times. But it was not enough, not for how turned on she felt right now, and Eren must have noticed it too, because the instrument soon disappeared, and a new player entered the field. The cane made a solid sound when it connected with her ass, the pain much more noticeable.

“You like that?”, Eren growled, hitting her again. Mikasa squirmed, the cuffs rattling against the spreader bar, crying out as he went on, planting another hard hit on her. “I”, hit, “asked”, hit, “you”, hit, “a question”, hit, “kitty.” Another one, just for good measure.

“Yes!”, she sobbed out, her skin on fire, both from the pain but mostly from the pleasure, as every hit shifted the toys, both radiating friction to tease her, although not enough to push her over the edge. “Eren please.”, she pleaded, hoping that he will finally get to it, but he didn’t seem done. Not just yet.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You!”

“My name. Say my name.”

Honest to god, Mikasa couldn’t be more turned on right now. She was burning, inside out, consumed by the flames that spread from her core all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. She had no idea what she was saying anymore, screaming whatever filth came into her mind, only wanting to finally fucking come.

“Eren! Eren! Please! I’m your servant, your slave, your whore, anything!”, she pulled hard on the restraints, cuffs creaking, “Please, anything!”

“Okay, easy baby, easy.”, his mouth was at her ear again, whispering, while fingers appeared at her entrance, tugging the balls free. Mikasa almost lost it when the first one came out, and then the second, the sudden emptiness making her sob while her inner muscles clenched around nothing.

“Please…”

Eren had no reason to tease her anymore. He kneeled behind her, ready and waiting for him, all spread open and pink, glistening with her arousal. Setting his tip against her, he pushed in, one decisive movement, burying himself to the hilt inside her stretched opening. Her walls squeezed him, so eagerly, muscles fluttering around his length, it almost made him lose it. Grabbing her hips for leverage, Eren started fucking into her, slow and steady at first, circling his hips a bit to let her feel all of him, everywhere.

“More…”, Mikasa’s demands were loud, unashamed, as her mind was so clouded with desire that the very concept of anything beyond sex escaped her right now, “Harder… I need… more!”

If she wanted him to fuck her harder, he would be the last person on the earth to say no. Putting one foot on the bed, Eren sped up, thrusting deeper and with more force, until he was slamming inside with groans marking each move. The slaps of skin on skin were loud, but Mikasa was louder, moaning shamelessly every time he hit all those deep spots inside, rubbing against her in just the right way. It was more than enough. The way Eren moved inside her, combining with the vibrating plug and the bite originating from her nipples, the sensation was perfect. Finally, fucking finally the fire concentrated, making Mikasa’s muscles tighten, more and more, until she snapped, being pushed over by a deep hit of his head. She came, screaming, trashing in her cuffs, her inner walls working around him in a way nothing else could even come close to. Eren only managed to hold on because she made him come before, doing such an impeccable job with her mouth, but it was still very close. He claimed his finish after she calmed, her orgasm done, a two more thrusts were all it took for him to spill inside her scorching hot tightness.

“Fuck Miki, you make me go insane.”, he whispered against the sweaty skin of her back where he collapsed, feeling the laughter in the gentle shake of her body rather than hearing it.

After a few more minutes of collecting his strength, he pulled out, reaching down to brush a few strands of hair from her face.

“Want out?”, he asked, but to his surprise Mikasa shook her head.

“Again.”, was all she said, smiling stupidly.

“Really?”

A nod.

“Look at you,”, Eren shook his head in disbelief, “I’d never guess that you would be such a freak.”

She snorted.

“Less teasing, more fucking.”

Grabbing the spreader bar, Eren turned her around, making her flop on her back bonelessly, blinking up at him. It was lucky that she made those braids, because otherwise Eren was sure that her hair would be all over her face right now.

“You sure about this?”, he said, because she seemed rather exhausted, the way she lay on her back, legs and hands in the air, connected by the bar, and Eren was more than willing to end the game here. But all she did was raise an eyebrow at him.

“What did I say?”

Following her wish, Eren pushed back in, watching the way Mikasa clenched her teeth, enjoying the moment.

“How’s your ass?”, he panted out, knowing very well that he didn’t hold back in his punishment. Forming words was hard, especially when he was buried inside her to the hilt, the tightness very pleasurable around his sensitive member.

“It’s okay.”, she squirmed on the sheets underneath him, “Sore, but okay.”

“What about your nipples?”

“Oh..”, looking down, she realized that the weights were still there, the bite of the clamps barely noticeable over the sting of the cane on her body. “Can you take them off?”

“With pleasure.”

The release was always the best, and Mikasa threw her head back, hair whipping the pillow, face contorting in ecstasy, especially strong when the feeling of freedom was soon accompanied by the warmth of his mouth closing around one of her peaks while his fingers played with the other, switching after a while. In the same time, Eren’s hips began the familiar dance, pushing and pulling, and it didn’t take him long to get her off, much gentler now, her body still weak from the thundering first finish, a long gasp announcing his success. Eren pulled back, satisfied with his performance, watching her chest raise and fall with her breathing. Just as he reached out to the cuffs however, wanting to free her, she spoke again.

“N-No.. I need… Ass…”

“Wait,” a breathless laugh left his lips. How big was this girl’s sex drive? “seriously?”

“Just do it.”

Pulling the tail plug out, she felt empty for a second, but it didn’t last long as he pressed his member in instead, passing the loosened ring of muscle. She was insatiable, but after what she did for him, Eren would go to hell and back for her, so continuing his movements was the least he could do. Feeling that she might need a little push to finish again, so soon after the last one, he reached down to thumb her swollen clit, a gesture she appreciated with a hum deep in her throat. For a third time that night, her muscles coiled before relaxing, body shaking lightly with her finish, letting out a long-satisfied moan. There, that was just enough, and the feeling of Eren emptying himself inside her again was just the icing on the cake.

“You good now?”, he managed to ask, when his brain came back from whatever outer space her body send him to.

She was so tired that speaking was beyond her, so she decided for a nod.

“That’s good to hear.”, Eren’s fingers went up, freeing her wrists and then her ankles from the cuffs, throwing the spreader bar away from her, “Because I can’t go again, not now.”

With a hand that felt heavy like iron, she plucked the cat ears from her head, undid her collar, loosening the braids after, while Eren tugged her shoes off before rolling the stockings down her legs, making her completely and fully nude for the first time that evening. To no one’s surprise, she fell asleep on top of him at the tub, so he was left undisturbed to play with her hair and marvel just long it was. Just a bit more, and she would most likely overtake him, what a tragedy. Not that he would ever talk into what haircut she wore, but as of late, he was discovering fondness for her face framed by the shiny cascade of black silk.

“I love you kitty.”, he whispered, overcome by how at peace she looked, lost in her dreams, and even while unconscious, Eren could swear that the corners of her mouth twitched upwards.

Just a tiny bit.

[zariyari]

I found this in my writing vaults and I love it???? 

The lights shine strongly in his mechanical eyes but Genos, being profoundly domestically inclined, goes to the grocery store often and so he’s used to the florescent glare.  Today in particular he’s after dish soap.  There’s a two for one sale.  Though Genos gets little in the way of excitement over shopping, there’s something gratifying about spending less for more.  But the moral implications sometimes plague him.  Is he greedy? Would people call him less-than-human for this?  Or just exactly human?  

There is someone else who is undoubtedly excited, thrilled, at the prospect of cheap dish soap.  Genos doesn’t know him, but he’s looking at him now, staring in wonder at the high shelf of red bottles.  He’s bald, a little shorter than Genos, and somehow abundantly relaxed though nothing about his child-like glee communicates that.  Something in his shoulders, then.

“It’s so cheap,” he’s saying, over and over again to himself, “so cheap.”  Genos turns to regard the man fully.

“Yes.” He hopes he’s manage to keep any metallic timber from his voice.  “It is very cheap.”

The bald man turns towards him also, a gleeful, absolutely pleased smile stretched out across his face.  It’s sort of eerie, actually, but Genos smiles back. It’s good to be polite.

“I come here for the specials.  Every second weekend they have something on.  Two weeks ago,” and here the bald man pulls out a flier, apparently an old one, “they had rice on half.  Can you believe it?  I’m stocked for weeks.”

Wanting to be polite, Genos tries to come up with something to say, though he has nothing relatable.  “I came here last weekend for a book.”

“Yeah?”  The bald man turns back to look at the high rising stacks of very cheap dish soap.  He seems withdrawn suddenly.  Genos gets the sense he doesn’t normally talk to strangers and had merely been overwhelmed with discounted goods.  “…What book?”  He asks eventually.

“Mamori Nato’s newest.  The Conquers o—”

“—of Earthrise!”  The bald man finishes for him.  Genos’s eyes widen.

“You know it?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t think anyone else— “I didn’t think anyone else read it.”

The bald man raises an eyebrow.  “If no one else read it but you it wouldn’t be on sale here,” he says.  And then clamps up.  Again, Genos gets the feeling he doesn’t normally talk to strangers.

“What part are you on?”

For a gravid moment there’s no reply.  It seems to Genos the man beside him has closed off completely, the walls of cleaning supplies caved around him to a singularity, one exact point that Genos will never reach.  He’s boarded off by something stronger than boarders.  It is not corporeal at all.  It is instead the drawn out drone of insistent solitude.  Necessitated aloneness.  It is as if an inverted reflection of himself is keeping Genos at bay: a phantom, a fabrication, an unfaltering falseness that keeps the world looking at itself, so it doesn’t try to get in.

Genos speaks again, tripping them both over the lack of an answer.  Maybe because he’s excited to talk about the book.  Maybe because he’s got his own fabricated phantoms keeping people out.

“I have just completed the forth chapter.  Did you agree with her decision to have Fumiko-san disembowel the aliens?  I thought she could have talked to them before taking drastic measures.”

Genos makes a point not to look at the man, as if he might scare away a frightened deer.  He looks at the cheap dish soap.

Nothing.  Is he going to walk away?

And then:

“I liked the cyborg.”

Genos feels a look of surprise rise over his face.  It’s involuntary, growing on its own.  He’s never heard of someone liking a cyborg before.  

“Woah.  Stop that.”  The bald man looks wearily up at him.  “You’re creeping me out.”

“My name is Genos,” he says, dropping the look of surprise.  He reaches up with metal hands to take two bottles of red dish soap.  He gives them to the other.

The bald man watches Genos’s segregated fingers with a small, surprised arch of his eyebrows.  “Ah,” he says with recognition.  Then, easily, he takes the dish soap and meeting Genos’s eyes for the first time (a passing expression of surprise but there is no fear, no contempt as others have when they realize what he is) he says, “Saitama,” by way of introduction.  “Nice to meet you.”  He juggles the soap in his arms.  Genos notes the harmless vulgarity of his sweater.  

“She had to fight the aliens,” Saitama continues, looking away from Genos and to the shelf again, “——kun told her about the virus.  It was kill or be killed.”

Genos snaps into revelation, jumping only minutely.  “Oh!” He says, “I’d forgotten from the first book.  I guess I read it too long ago.”

“Don’t…” (Don’t cyborgs have perfect memories?)  Saitama stops and studies him for a moment.  He opens his mouth and shuts it.  Inside the space empty of words Genos can hear a request and is compelled to answer the call, reach beyond the subject and subjectivity of words and connect their shared logos, understand the silence better than the language.  What is this?  His circuits spike and fall.  (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logos)

Then Saitama opens his mouth again and it’s gone.  

“Thanks,” is all he says.

“Hm?”

“For the soap.”  He lifts the two bottles up.

“Oh.  Of course.”

Genos is sensing this is when they say goodbye, certainly now.

Saitama looks at his hands again.  “When…”

Again silence and a compulsion to fall into it and disregard it, pound it into redundancy,  comprehensive intrinsincey, the need so strong it overrides his vision for the smallest moment. Genos barely notices except that he answers the question that hadn’t been verbally asked.

“About a year ago,” he says, looking down at his metal hands as well.  

“They’re cool.”  Saitama looks up at him.  “You’re a hero, right?”

“Just in-training,” Genos says.

“With the squad?” “Yes.”

Saitama frowns.  “You seem…”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know.”  He shifts on his feet.  Genos watches his legs but looks away quickly, mortified at himself because he doesn’t normally do that, not now.  “Different than that.”

Genos laughs and he knows it’s because he’s nervous. Luckily it seems he’s only laughed at Saitama’s obtuse behaviour.  “What do you mean?” “You’re not… Obnoxious.”

Z-City has a squad of heroes, appropriately and uncreatively named Hero Squad Z.  There are about ten members, of which Genos is one.  The Squad has a reputation for being loud, rude, cheesy, and altogether glaringly annoying.  It’s not a secret.  But because they’re powerful, because they save lives, people don’t talk about it—and they definitely don’t insult them out loud.

So Genos stares at Saitama for a moment with his mouth slightly open.  He’s nearing an out-of-body experience.  It’s like an ant talking down to a god.  Doesn’t he realize?  It’s Hero Squad Z.  The Protectors of the City!  The Midnight Fight Club!  Our Only Buffer Between Earth’s Eradication!  All the headlines stream through Genos’s brain like photos.

(Not, not ‘like’ photos. They are photos. Only humans can think in similes.)

“You can’t…” Genos starts.  

Saitama speaks over him.  “Crop-Top Tiger or whatever his name is.  He’s the leader, right?”

“Crop-Top…” The picture is forming in his head and humility vanishes, and without warning from his endocrine system to his brain Genos starts laughing.  His dumfounded expression breaks.  His social correctness with it.  All of the protocol, the hierarchy, being ‘the kid in training’ ‘the rookie’ ‘the robot’ ‘it’ – all if this dissolves and Genos feels for the first time in a year that he’s with a friend.  He laughs and shakes his head.  “You, you—”

“And who else?  Ring-a-Round Sonic.”  

Genos laugh again and this time, Saitama is looking back at him, grinning.  

“He’s not—” he tries between giggles but can’t speak.  

Grinning even harder, eyes alight and proud, Saitama says, “Silver Wa—”

Genos’s chest flares and he cuts Saitama off.  “No, no.”  But he can’t help it and snorts, embarrassingly, offering a silent apology to his oldest sensei.

“Bofoy is too easy.”

Genos thinks for a moment.  Then, “Boy toy,” he says, only half in horror.  They look at each other and crumble into jerking shoulders and quiet laughter.

“See?” Saitama says, wiping at his eyes, “Even their names are obnoxious.  You really run with them?”

Genos can’t remember the last time he’s laughed so much.  He looks back at the man he’s met over dish soap of all things and says, “Well.  It’s complicated.  I—”

“Genos.”  

Like the rotation of the earth breaks daytime to night the voice cleaves Genos’s bright mood in half. It injects fear laced with compulsory obedience through him.  It is almost as if Tiger has a direct line to his neural pathways.  All of their laughter forgotten, all the ease erased. Genos turns to look at his sensei.

Tiger towers over both of them.  He looks at Saitama passingly, as if he’s not worth the effort.  “We’re leaving,” he says to Genos.  

Ever the good student, Genos nods.  He looks back at Saitama as he follows Tiger out.

“It was nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Saitama says with a small wave. --- Dropping his hand to his side, Saitama turns and makes his way to the cash.  He walks home, a single point under high hung lamp-lights along an empty street, and walks into his apartment the same way.  Alone.  It is not being alone that is the problem.  Saitama has always been with just himself.  

But lately, in the past few years, he’s become bored.  Nothing affects or effects him.  Food all tastes the same.  Video games are tedious.  The sunrise is bland.  Somehow, after years of training himself to be strong, he’s outdone the beauty of purpose.  

What’s the point in anything if everything makes him feel the same? Bland, devoid, flatlined.

That has been his dominant thinking for this past year.  But a good sale still makes him feel accomplished, at least, and so he’d left the apartment tonight in want of discounted dish soap and he’d been too distracted at its beauty (at trying to force himself to feel something) and he’d said something out loud, he must’ve, he can’t remember, and then he’d replied.

A cyborg in Z-City.  He must be having a hard time.  People don’t like cyborgs here, mostly because so many have killed someone they know; they seem to be unable to realize that just as many humans have done the same thing.  

And if he’s working for the Hero Squad, it’s probably worse.  They’re a bunch of nose-in-the-air high-horse-sitting asshats.  They’re the main reason Saitama has never applied to be an official hero.  Who would want to spend time with those people?  They take over any restaurant they eat at, don’t pay, and demand the best seats.  They act like royalty.  They’re not even that strong.  

Saitama bets that cyborg could blow them to the moon and back without batting an eyelash.  So why does he hang out with them?  Why, when he’s stronger, is he subordinate?  

And why does Saitama even care?  He sets the red dish soap on his kitchen counter and then flops down on the floor in front of his tv.  

The news anchors are screaming about a slime monster terrorising the busy city center. Yawning, Saitama gets dressed and heads out.