#yes i'm reposting this hush

[miharuhebinata]

Stede never realized just how much he enjoys taking care of those he loves.

ofmd fans read this challenge

[vagabond-umlaut]

l'heure bleue

Ferocious, fearsome, infallible. The King Of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, has never fought a war he hasn't won.

But, does that mean he'll taste success in this battle of beliefs, raging against no one but his Queen, as well?

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; sooo much of tooth-rotting! domestic fluff between sukuna & reader; sukuna is so exhausted, still so fond of his dear wife; said wife is not too soft towards her husband [she has valid reasons, dw]; talks on death; indirect talk on periods & pregnancy; 0% ANGST IN THIS– ONLY FLUFFY HUMOR; spoiler alert— would-be-dad!sukuna x would-be-mom!reader

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"I'm dying. Very soon."

While not the deep kiss you've always welcomed him with, into your chambers, every night of your married life— Sukuna reckons, he will take this many many times over the tense hush you've been offering him these days.

Shrugging his heavy cloak off his shoulders, the King of Curses walks over to where you're on the bed and frowns, fingers moving to thread through your unkempt hair, then run down the side of your face. Your eyes flutter close for a beat– undoubtedly, from the gentle caress, he surmises– before they grow wide open, blinking with tears of fear.

Rubbing the pad of his thumb over your wobbling lower lip, your lover sighs, knowing full well where this conversation might be going– still, as always, he decides to humor your concerns with an ask of his own.

"Did my Queen visit the royal physician, along with Uraume today?"

"No," you shake your head meekly, "I did not visit the physician. I was resting in our room the entire day."

"If you weren't feeling well, you could have asked her to visit you here, right?" your husband queries, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his lap. Snuggling into him with a soft hum, you send a miserable look his way— eliciting something eerily similar to the emotions, your husband knows, no curse like him should ever be able to feel.

Yet here he is, feeling every one of those, with his wife in his grasp.

You shake your head a second time; however, with greater force than before. "No. I knew I would be dying soon but I did not want to hear it from her. I wanted you to tell me that awful news, my king. I love you, I wanted you to say it. To confirm it."

You love him, so he must confirm your imminent death!?!?— Stunned by your odd words of reasoning, Sukuna gapes at you, dumbfounded; before he shakes himself free of the shock, discerning you to be three words, or even less, away from dissolving into your pathetic wails.

He smooths the top of your head with a palm, whilst another palm of his squeezes your hip, hoping the action will bring you some comfort. You place a small palm over the latter, voice growing shaky when you say, "Won't you confirm the terrible news, my lord?"

"No," Sukuna's quick to deny you in an instant, "Because I firmly don't believe you're anywhere close to dying. You're as healthy as a horse— or whatever idiotic creature, you humans use in your idiotic idioms."

A facsimile of a smile threatens to erupt onto your lips— it is vanished before the next second— with you crumbling into a mess of tears and snot, face pressed into his chest, whilst your fingers dig into his back.

Sukuna stifles a weary sigh, before wrapping his arms gingerly round your midsection, taking extra care not to jostle you or anything. "You aren't dying anytime soon, my Queen," he struggles to coo, but ends up grumbling, "I won't let you ever leave my side– you stupid woman. You're stuck with me forever– don't I always tell you that, my Queen?"

"You do, Sukuna," you mumble, with a weak nod of your head, "But I do feel so close to dying every moment of the day— so weak and so dizzy and so nauseous– even you've become so careful with me, my king!" you exclaim, red-rimmed swollen eyes glaring accusingly into every ruby eye of his.

Filling him with an addicting thrilling delight he has never felt before.

"You've always been so rough with me— Now, when you're being so gentle with me, out of nowhere, tell me: must the implication of you thinking me to be fragile, along with those awful symptoms– not be worrisome? Must I not think, you consider me to be near my death– hence, this newfound wariness? Hence, you, and even Uraume, who has always been so free to speak their mind before me– the both of you walking on stupid fucking eggshells around me– tell me, 'Kuna!"

A silence punctuates your outburst, filled only by the sounds of your noisy breathing– the latter replacing the sounds of your crying.— An odd yet not unpleasant, emotion taking over the shape of his mouth and curving it upwards, Sukuna drags a finger down your backbone, relishing in the way you shiver, then relax with a sigh under his touch.

Letting your temper to ebb away for another good minute, your lover inquires, keeping his tone void of anything except curiosity, "When is the last time you used your pain-relieving bath salts, pet?"

Your eyes blinking slowly, Sukuna watches them travel to the cabinet where you keep them stored in stacks, before returning to him, quite puzzled. And fatigued.

Adorably small yawns escaping, you murmur.

"I only use them when it's that time of month, which was..." Your eyes flutter open and close, painfully slowly, yet again— before they widen, becoming not unlike the full moon in the sky tonight.

You gasp, shaky fingers poking your belly before reaching a rest on it.

Covering them with his much larger ones, your lover hums, "Happy?"

"Not at all," you shake your head, reaching your other hand to trail the many tattoos on your husband's face, before stopping at the apple of his cheek.

Sukuna swears time ceases to exist in the momentary pause you take— restored only by the blinding beam you offer next, followed by your sweet voice uttering those words, he knows he'll remember for all the millennia he will live.

"I'm very, very happy— you dummy prehistoric curse."

▸ masterlist

[hopeluna]

✘︙Asmodeus !

♡! hope's notes: yes this is a repost from the old blog, hush

CW: body insecurities

"If i'm more pretty, do you think they'll like me?"

The silence that followed gets broken by Asmo's laugh. He mutters a small "idiot", shaking his head, chuckling at the mirror in front of him. Well, the half broken mirror. Most of the broken shards and pieces were on the floor anyway, few embedded on his knuckles.

Looking around the room, Asmo sighed tiredly. Pillows strewn around on the floor, torn pillows ; his pristine silk bedsheets all crumpled up on the floor too. His beauty and skin care products were more or less useless now, most of them had their products dumped in the sink, some in the trash.

He supposed, in a ironic way, it was a beautiful mess.

Lucifer was definitely not going to be pleased and so, albeit reluctantly, Asmo got up to first clean his hands. A little magic would cover and heal it up.

This was the fourth-no fifth "breakdown" he has had in a week. Not his proudest moment. Its all your fault really, or at least that's what he tries to tell himself.

Asmo knew he was pretty. He is pretty. Its a fact. But then again, beauty is subjective, isn't it?

So, maybe he wasn't pretty to you. He has tried to change to your preferences though. He's wore perfumes you'd like, clothes that you find attractive, colours that you love. He doesn't understand why it's not working, he's tried everything.

Asmo knows this is pathetic but what can he do? His looks, as he's been told, are all he's got. So if you don't like his looks, you're never gonna want to speak to a ugly Asmo!

The next morning comes and he's there for breakfast as usual, joking and talking with his brothers as if he did not want to peel his skin off last night.

"You know- I have to say, I think blue looks really attractive on some people!-" his ears perk up as he glances at your direction as you talk animatedly with a hardly-listening Beel munching on his and your food.

I could use some blue in my wardrobe. Asmo continues eating as he makes a mental note to go shopping later.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[straykidsholicleigh]

I'm back!! btw I have another smut idea!! Hyunjin x Reader fucking during the versace fashion show in Milan maybe??

versace and dresses

pairing: idol!hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: smut, drabble like thing

warnings: established relationship, hyunjin is horny af- riding duh, kissing, kinda public sex? switch!hyunjin?reader is called filthy and darling :)

a/n: this was requested by my lovely ☘️ anon! hope u like it love~ and i got the idea of riding hyunjin from @changbinswh0re 👀 u two r filthy I love u-

credits: dividers by @cafekitsune ♡

It all started with that damn dress. That long, black, beautiful fucking dress.

When Hyunjin got invited to the event in Milan, Donatella herself offered Hyunjin to bring along a plus one, and his mind immediately went to you. He requested Donatella to make and design a dress for you, and she happily obliged. But what Hyunjin didn't expect was to see you in a almost slutty looking dress.

The moment he saw you walk out of the fitting room, all happy and overjoyed, he tried his best to hide his ragging boner. He was happy with the way the dress turned out but all he wanted to do right now was rip it of off you and fuck you against the nearest piece of furniture.

It was no different during the show itself. he'd constantly eye you, even though you were sitting right next to him. The models walked the ramp, flaunting their figures and the pieces of clothing from Versace's new collection which Hyunjin seemed to love, but right now Hyunjin couldn't seem to care.

When no one was looking, during the after party, he dragged you into one of the rooms Donatella had prepared just for him, throwing you onto the bed and ripping your dress off, biting at your lips.

“This fucking dress,” he muttered, undoing the buttons near the slit as your dress flared open, your black panties on display. “Filthy girl, thinking I wouldn't notice.” He whispered, his fingers dancing over your clothed clit.

“Hyunjin, can I-” You stopped, biting your lips as you thought of what you wanted to say. “'Can I' what darling? Hmm?” he encouraged, smirking as he removed your underwear. “Wan-wanna ride you.” You whispered back, hands on his chest as you moved to sit up.

In a matter of seconds he was spread out on the couch, jacket on the armrest as you bounced on him, earning hushed screams and moans from Hyunjin. His hands were on your clothed boobs, gripping and caressing as he quickly had to slap his hand over his mouth in order to silence himself.

He looked so fucked out by the end of it, his eyes soft and hooded, his lips red and swollen, his makeup almost ruined from crying and his hair all disheveled. You had to snap some pics whatsoever. Once you both were done, you tried your best to look the most presentable, fixing your clothes and hair as he dragged you out of the room, both of you a giggling mess.

The next morning you woke up with a splitting headache and news articles about you and Hyunjin.

“Famous singer, Stray Kids Hyunjin and his girlfriend, Y/N, was spotted coming out of a room looking disheveled and messy”

“Are we fucked?”

“Probably-”

idk what this was-

taglist: @bbgnyx @junglyric @hyunevlogs @thatonenoona @smuttystraykidsthoughts @lokislilkitten @yessa-vie @chartrucewhore @changbinswh0re @hyunlar @yaorzu-blog @skyisnthere101 @silverstarburst @himynamesjadon @massivesoyeondelusion @itzyeunusiastrie @not-the-herb-sage @ifudontlikegidlefucku @yo-peeps-itzz-asher @asherinthebuilding @hayleyinthebuilding @iwishmiyeonismygf @nathan-idk @soleil-like-the-lillies-or-sun @audreyyy-yyy @leointhehouse @kian-it-means-king @atlas-idk @astrid-thats-it-idk @nevandisappears @adonisdoesntgivetwofucks @vanillacupcakefrosting @cianaaaaaaaa @vannipak @tae-ig @joshuanotfound @ivydoesit23 @minjunsworldsposts @fauna-flora11 @ryanerror141 @maya-yay @ophelia-and-yes-i-stan-skz

©straykidsholicleigh (2024) – all rights reserved. reposting/copying of any kind is not allowed.

DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARISE, COPY & REPURPOSE.

[feelbokkie]

Let’s Fall in Love, IRL | Chapter 20 (end)

pairing: Jisung x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, Pen pals to lovers, friend of a friend to lovers

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing, mention of food, depictions of eating, depicitons of a panic attack

summary: When she was a child, L/n Y/n was in a horrible accident that left her face disfigured.  After getting bullied relentlessly by her classmates for her appearance, Y/n escaped to the digital world where she meets Felix. Now an adult, Y/n has be come a complete social recluse, only talking to her 4 childhood best friends and roommates and her only friends. When Felix goes AFK one day in the middle of a game, Felix’s roommates decides to step in. Is this the start a new relationship or will Y/n’s crippling social anxiety get in the way?

taglist: CLOSED

word count: 7,165

screenshot count: 21

a/n: let's go out with a bang

previous | masterlist

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

"We can go home if you changed your mind. Just turn the car right around." Changbin suggests from the passenger seat.

"This is exactly why you're not driving the car, Bin." You hear Chan whisper.

"So you would force her to go in if she changed her mind?" Changbin says a little too loud.

You're sitting the the back seat of the car, wedged between Hyunjin and Seungmin. Inuyasha lays across each of your laps with his head in Seungmin's. You're parked in front of the restaurant Jisung told you to come to tonight.

The drive wasn't too long, but it was filled with hushed bickering, much of which Chan tried to drown out with music. Seungmin tried to keep your mind preoccupied with random conversation topics or poking extra fun at Changbin while Hyunjin's hand hasn't left the top of your head.

"Y/n, you must be nervous to meet Felix in person for the first time too," Seungmin says quietly as he rests his head on your shoulder.

"Now she's never leaving this car," Changbin whispers under his breath.

"Why would you say that, Seungmin?" Chan groans, leaning his head against the headrest

"Hey, Seungmin, did your parents give you brain damage when they were smacking you around by any chance?" Hyunjin sighs.

"Hyunjin," Chan warns.

"Yeah, probably. But I'm still smarter than you." Seungmin shoots back calmly.

Oddly enough, you're not nervous to meet Felix in person for the first time. Maybe it's because you've known Felix for years. Maybe it's because when you showed Felix your face for the first time, all he did was give you a bright smile and a soft, "Is that all?" And somehow, those three words comforted you so much that you spent the first 30 minutes of the call crying. Which, of course, made Felix cry. That somehow, you knew right then and there that Felix is someone you can keep in your small circle. And if Felix is vouching for Jisung, then maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

"None of that tonight," You let out the breath that you've been holding the entire week while you undo your seatbelt. "The orphan talk might make them uncomfortable because they won't know whether to laugh or cry. And Felix is already sensitive."

"What am I supposed to talk about then?" Seungmin whines as he moves to take off his seatbelt too.

"Oh, so we're doing this. Okay," Hyunjin hesitantly takes off his seatbelt.

"Just use that dazzling personality of yours," Chan suggests as he looks into the rearview mirror, his eyes settling on you.

"That's my entire personality. I've got nothing else. It's like if I poke out Y/n's good eye." Seungmin pouts, leaning back in his seat.

"Seungmin, please do not touch me or my eye."

"I...don't...think you can compare not being able to joke about our upbringing to being completely blind." Hyunjin finally opens his door.

"Yes I can, it's my sixth sense." Seungmin opens his door, letting Inuyasha out of the car before following suit.

"If you want something to talk about tonight, we can talk about the fact that we technically have a stepmom." Changbin huffs before exiting the car.

It's been an issue for the last few days. You mentioned to Seungmin that Chan has a girlfriend and of course, he would not let it rest. He went out of his way to wake both Hyunjin and Changbin from a dead sleep to tell them. The night ended with all three of them yelling at Chan and huffing off to their rooms. They still haven't moved on from it, despite Chan's long explanation at breakfast the next morning. Even you're a little hurt by the fact that he kept it a secret for so long. You know he mostly kept it to himself because of his abandonment issues, but three years is still a bit much.

"First of all, we're not married. Secondly, I explained to you why I didn't tell you guys. Finally, I apologized," Chan quickly shuts off the car and follows the rest of the guys outside.

And just like that, you're left alone in the car. You can feel every blood cell moving along your body as you stare at the restaurant. Except for Jisung, Felix, and their other two roommates, the building is empty. They promised you that much. Both of them reassured you that you wouldn't have to worry about other people the whole night. They rented out the entire restaurant for the night. They told you that their roommate is a chef who will take care of your meal while their other roommate will work as a waiter. Felix even let you meet the other two roommates, whose names escape you right now, during one of your calls to make you feel at ease.

But Jisung is in there.

Somehow, that's more terrifying than if you were going to a crowded restaurant. At least you know that the other patrons would be mostly focused on their meals to pay you any attention. But with this dinner, all the attention would be on you. All of Jisung's attention.

"Did you change your mind?" Seungmin asks bluntly as he sticks his head back in the car.

"N-no," You clear your throat before taking one more deep breath, "Let's go."

***

Somehow, Felix's voice is deeper in person. At least, that's the second thing you noticed. The first, he's taller than you imagined. Maybe because you're used to seeing him through a computer screen, you thought he would be shorter. But he's practically the same height as Chan and Jisung, if not just barely taller. Still, Seungmin and Hyunjin stand above him, making him as small as you've imagined him.

Felix was the first to greet you, running out of the restaurant to hug you. And then, after greeting Chan and your brothers, he whisked you away to some private section of the restaurant where the two of you caught up.

Now that you think about it, he must have done that to ease your nerves. Because now, as you sit across the table from Jisung, you seem to be hit with an overwhelming wave of anxiety. Chan is off in the kitchen helping Minho, a name that Felix reminded you of while you were talking earlier. Like the car ride over to the restaurant, Hyunjin and Seungmin are on either side of you while Inuyasha is spread across Changbin and Hyunjin's laps while he rests his head on you.

Please don't bark.

Seungmin and Felix are deeply engaged in a conversation about...something. You're not entirely sure what they started talking about or when they even started their conversation. Your mind is too preoccupied with other things. Like trying to keep your breathing level while playing with Inuyasha's fur.

But you're acutely aware of everything, everywhere, all at once. The way the fabric of your jeans is rubbing against your legs. And there is a string in your sock that unraveled so much that it's wrapped itself around your pinky toe. You're certain it'll cut off circulation any second. And there is a singular strand of hair that you swear is a needle that is stabbing your face. And all the microfibers of your face mask are rubbing against your face while you breathe. You're certain your face is red from irritation. And your palms are so sweaty, it feels more like you're using Innie as a towel than for comfort. And how the fibers of your sweater feel too scratchy against your back—

For the love of god, calm the fuck down.

But how can you? Jisung is less than six feet away from you. He was less than a foot away from you last time when--

Do not think about that now.

"Here's some water," Jeongin, the name you did remember because his nickname had been the butt of many jokes over video chats, says as he comes up behind you, balancing a tray with water on it. He places one cup at Chan's empty seat next to Seungmin before passing the rest out.

"Wow, In-ah, you didn't drop one," Jisung teases, finally speaking for the first time tonight.

Ba...badum

Inuyasha lifts his head, looking directly at you as your heart skips a beat. You squeeze your eyes shut as you gently pet his head back down.

"I've been practicing," He smirks as he places the last cup in front of Changbin. "Plus, Lino hyung said he's going to fine me if I break anything tonight."

"So you're not going to have your half of the rent this month?" Felix asks, smirking in amusement.

Jeongin's mouth pulls into a tight smile, his eyes turning into two little half-moons as he tilts his head. "Just for that, I'm going to make sure I drop your plate, hyung."

“Cute and scary at the same time. Reminds me of when Y/n gets mad.” Hyun coos at the younger boy.

“Y/n? Mad?” A smile that would make the Cheshire cat jealous spreads across Felix's face. Almost like his new mission in life is to piss you off.

“Yeah, I mean it’s kind of scary because she never gets mad but at the same time it’s cute. She’ll just start swearing up a storm, using swear words that none of us were aware that she even knew. And then she makes this face...kinda like that,” Changbin points to you. Just as Felix and Jisung turn their attention to you, you relax your face.

“That might be my fault," Felix says, grinning sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Get better at gaming and you won’t be mad all the time.” Han deadpans.

You can't help but chuckle at that comment. Jisung's attention is back on you, blinking as he’s taken aback by your sudden reaction. His blinks are as long and slow as the smile that’s crossing his face. His mouth is slightly parted with just a hint of his teeth sticking out beneath his top lip. A tender smile that’s so simple and yet, somehow so contagious, you can’t help the small grin that appears on your face. You’ve never been more thankful for your mask.

“But she doesn’t stay mad for long and doesn’t hold a grudge,” Seungmin adjusts himself in his seat, just barely turning his back towards you as he leans into Felix and Jisung.“Unlike Hyunjin,”

“Excuse me? You refused to talk to me for three entire months once! Only referred to me as ‘that guy’ or ‘that thing’ whenever you had to talk about me.” Hyunjin stares at Seungmin, who you now realize turned his back towards Hyunjin and not you, in disbelief. His jaw slack and eyes wide as he fights the urge to start another argument with Seungmin.

Seungmin smirks as he leans back into his chair, amused by Hyunjin’s sudden annoyance. “Did I? Oh well, you must have deserved it.”

"He definitely remembers and is pretending not to.” Changbin waved off, trying to distract Hyunjin.

“Yang Jeongin!”

“Oh shit,” Jeongin mutters under his breath as he quickly retreats to the kitchen, nearly knocking over a plant in the process.

You look around the restaurant, taking in the atmosphere. It’s not a big restaurant. It’s more of a hole-in-the-wall barbecue restaurant that happens to be popular. It’s a bit cramped with only eight tables. Each table is situated with its own grill, except for the table that you’re sitting at which has two. You can only imagine how hot when the restaurant is packed. You’re already feeling a bit warm from the grill in front of you being on. Still, you’re excited to actually be out to eat barbecue. You can’t remember the last time you went out and ate at a restaurant. Was it Chan’s university graduation or Changbin’s fire academy competition ceremony? It was some sort of celebration. Maybe a birthday? You’re not entirely sure, you were too anxious to even eat properly that night, let alone remember why you were there. Inuyasha wasn’t properly trained yet so he came along but wasn’t much help. 

The restaurant is similar. A few plants to offset the reds and browns from the exposed brick walls. Low lights and kitchen vents hang over the cool, wooden tables. The wood tables at barbecue restaurants never made sense to you. With an open stove in the middle, it always seemed more like a safety issue. No matter how many times Changbin tries to explain it to you, you will never fully understand.

“Make way,” Minho says as he, Jeongin, and Chan walk into the dining area holding plates of raw meat, vegetables, and side dishes. They bring enough out for both sides of the table.

You’re not sure how expensive all of this is. You know it couldn’t have been cheap. You tried to get Felix to tell you something earlier so you could pay them back. He insisted that it was practically free. The owners of the restaurant owed Minho a favor. Still, you aren’t entirely convinced. 

“Innie, time to get off my lap,” You pat Inuyasha’s head as Jeongin lights the grill on your side of the table. Inuyasha hops off your lap and sits between you and Hyunjin.

“I’m…not in your lap?” Jeongin freezes, his face turning pale.

“She’s talking to her dog,” Chan explains, laughing at the younger man’s confusion.

“Oh that’s going to get confusing, isn’t it?” Minho asks as he sets up the food at his side of the table.

“Hm,” Han hums as he scoots his chair back in, “how about we call them Innie and Human Innie?”

“Hey, why am I ‘Human’ Innie? Why can’t I just be Innie? He’s a dog!” Jeongin whines as he takes his seat between Minho and Felix.

Everyone, excluding you, can’t help but laugh at Jeongin’s distress as he pouts. Even though everyone else laughs, Jisung’s attention is still on you. Although, you don’t notice this time. Your mind is too occupied with what to do next. You slowly roll your sleeves up before quietly getting your hand sanitizer from your bag. Part of it is that you want to clean your hands after all the sweat and touching of Inuyasha’s fur. The other part is that you need something to do with your hands. 

Badum

You’re going to have to take your mask off soon. It’s inevitable. It’ll end up being more awkward if you don’t or if you withhold from eating altogether. You feel Inuyasha settle his head in your lap again as you readjust your sleeves again. You’re not sure if it’s because of the two grills that are on or if it’s just you, but you feel significantly hotter. You rather take off your sweater right now to cool down than take off your mask.

I didn’t think this through.

“Damnit,” Hyunjin mutters beside you. Your eyes shift over to him and Changbin. They must have played a game to decide who is going to cook. Hyunjin mutters a string of swears as he grabs a pair of gloves, clearly a sore loser.

At home, you and Chan are always the ones in charge of grilling. Occasionally Changbin will take over if he thinks the meat isn’t getting cooked properly. Hyunjin and Seungmin, on the other hand, hate the pressure of being in charge of the food.

“I can do that if you want,” You suggest. Maybe cooking is the distraction you need. You’ll be too focused on cooking to get to eat much.

“It’s fine, I got it,” He smiles, playing with the tongs. “What should I cook first?”

“Meat,” Changbin suggests.

“Y/n, Felix, Jisung, any suggestions?” He asks, ignoring Changbin.

“Meat, cook the meat,” Changbin tries again.

“You didn’t want to cook, you don’t get a say in anything.”

“Hey!” Changbin yells, startling Jeongin on the other side of the table.

Chan, holding the tongs and scissors for his side of the table, leans back over his chair. He silently warns Changbin with the scissors before going back to whatever conversation he was having with his half of the table, partly apologizing on Changbin’s behalf. Seungmin puts his hand on your knee, stopping you from bouncing the leg you weren’t aware was moving in the first place. You mumble out a quiet ‘sorry’ as you focus your attention back on anywhere but Jisung or dinner. Seungmin, noticing you’re starting to freak out quietly flips his hand over, offering you his hand. You don’t hesitate to take it.

“Oh wow, he really is like a parent. Reminds me of how my mom is with me and my—Ah, sorry,” Jeongin bites his tongue and apologizes to the five of you.

All of you are used to it. Less people made fun of the fact none of you had parents than people would have you believe. Sure, there was the occasional asshole who would come along and try to use that information against you. But it hurt significantly less than when people would mention their parents and then freeze, almost like a deer caught in headlights. They’re panicking, you know they are. And then they apologize for committing the sin of mentioning the fact that they have at least one parent in their lives. And then they wait. Like you might spontaneously combust or burst into tears any second. Or the back peddling when a classmate would mention hating theirs over something so mundane like taking away their phones for bad grades. Guilt because none of you had parents. It was the universal look that people had when they looked at the five of you. Teachers would always mention something about parents their eyes would always land on one of you. It’s exhausting. When the four of you moved to Seoul to live with Chan, there was a silent agreement amongst the four of you to just refer to Chan as your dad whenever you talked about him. New place, fresh start. It gave you all a break from the looks of guilt and pity until Chan had to come to pick all four of you up from school one day after Changbin got into a fight.

“What’s a parent?” Seungmin questions him, tilting his head to the side “Is it like a TV show or some—Ow! When did you get so strong?”

“What happened?” Changbin asks, leaning over Hyunjin to see what the commotion is about.

You squeezed Seungmin’s hand as tightly as you could to get him to shut up. It might be all the anxiety pumping through your veins right now, but you squeezed tighter than you intended to, causing Seungmin to look at you in betrayal. All you offer him back is a warning look, silently reminding him of what you said in the car.

“My wings have been clipped,” Seungmin rolls his eyes and leans back into his seat, still holding onto your hand.

Hyunjin hovers his hand over the grill, checking if it’s hot enough before putting some shrimp and pork belly on one side and vegetables on the other. “I mean, we technically have a mom—sorry, a step-mom. So we basically have a full set of parents.”

“Hyunjin, don’t start that right now. I said I was sorry,” Chan sighs.

“Get on your knees and bow down if you really are sorry. For three hours,” Hyunjin’s eyes refuse to leave the grill, focusing on cooking, “One for each year you didn’t tell us.”

“His old ass knees can barely handle squats and you want him to kneel for three hours?” Changbin questions.

“New family drama?” Felix asks, leaning in towards you. Jisung does his best to look busy and not listen in on the drama.

“Apparently, that guy over there has been dating one of the doctors at his job for three years and kept it from us.” You explain quietly.

“Y/n, not you too! What do you mean ‘that guy over there?’” Chan groans. Minho takes the tongs and scissors away from him and takes over cooking.

Seungmin starts grabbing bowls of rice from the center of the table and begins to pass them out to everyone on your side of the table. Your hand instinctively wraps around Seungmin’s as you think about having to take your mask off again. The conversation was a welcomed distraction from the racing thoughts in your brain. But a simple bowl of rice is enough to bring you back to reality. To why you’re here.

Calm down.

You’re starving. You’ve been too nervous all day to eat more than a snack and drink some water. But the smell of all the food being cooked around you that’s seeping through your mask is making your stomach growl. You’re almost certain that everyone at the table can hear it. Even the braised eggplant sitting in front of you looks delicious. You dislike eggplant. You don’t hate it like Hyunjin does, you just dislike it. You’re used to it now after years of secretly eating all the foods Hyunjin doesn’t like so he wouldn’t get in trouble. But now, you’re fully considering eating all of the eggplant.

If only you could take your mask off. If only you could muster up all of the courage in the world and just rip it off. Be normal, for once in your life, just be normal. You’re acutely aware that you haven’t said a single word since you and Felix joined the larger group. You also know that Felix pulled you away to talk to ease you into the group situation. You wish he didn’t have to do that. You wish none of this had to be like this. That you could just have dinner with your friends and family like normal. Like everyone else.

For the love of god, please just calm dow—

*Tap*

Your head snaps up towards Felix and Jisung. Felix, unfazed, continues his conversation with Seungmin and Jeongin to notice you looking at him. Your eyes settle on Jisung, who gives you a soft smile. His eyes, so gently yet so full of concern. It’s almost like he could sense you freaking out and tried to draw you out before you started to panic.

You’re aware that Jisung also hasn’t said a single word all evening. Everyone else seems to be doing the heavy lifting of conversing for the two of you. You’re grateful that dinner is a larger group event. You can only imagine how badly it would have gone if it was just the two of you again. You probably would have stayed home.

“Y/n, ah…” Hyunjin says, turning towards you. His eyes are focused on the shrimp at the end of the tongs as he blows on it.

“Hey, why does she get the first piece?” Changbin whines as Hyunjin has his back to him.

“You know the rules, youngest first. You go last, Grandpa.” Seungmin reminds him. 

Badum

“Grandpa?” Changbin cries.

Badum

“Yeah, you’re the oldest one on this side of the table so you’ve been promoted to grandpa. Congratulations,” Seungmin smirks, earning a laugh from Felix.

Badum

“I’m going to push your head in the grill,” Changbin threatens.

Badum

Seungmin feigns shock, holding his hand over his mouth. “Isn’t your job literally the opposite of that? How are you still employed?”

Badum

“Report him to the city. I’ll be a witness,” Felix adds, placing his hand on Seungmin’s shoulder, pretending to comfort him.

Badum

“Y/n, hurry up and take it. I know you’re hungry and the samgyeopsal is burning.”

Badum, badum

Your eyes look at the shrimp, and then at everyone else. They’re all in their own little worlds, barely paying you any attention. Chan, Minho, and Jeongin are busy cooking and talking about something trivial. Seungmin and Felix are too busy talking past you, picking on Changbin together. Jisung is now stuffing his oversized cheeks with rice and taking over the cooking. Inuyasha moves his paw to your lap, almost like he’s trying to comfort you.

Badum, badum, badum

Your hand shakily moves to pull down your mask, pausing as your fingertips brush against the thin fabric. You take a few deep breaths before pulling it down below your chin. You freeze for a second, waiting to hear terrified screams or for the world to stop spinning or for the cops to burst through the doors or…anything.

BADUM, BADUM, BADUM

Nothing.

The conversations going on around you continue, uninterrupted as your heart pounds in your chest and ears like a drum. You squeeze your eyes and let out all of the air in your body before finally taking the shrimp from Hyunjin.

“…Mm!” You hum happily, the corners of your mouth turning up into a small smile.

“Cute,” Jisung whispers under his breath. You almost didn’t hear him. Still, despite the drumming of your heart in your ears and the loud conversations going on around you, you heard him.

“CuTe,” Felix and Seungmin tease in unison. Your eyes move to meet a tomato-faced Jisung who is now scowling at the pair of new best friends.

“Oh!” Jisung shouts suddenly, causing you to jump in your seat. Seungmin gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, turning his attention back on you.

Jisung gets up from the table and runs off to the door near the kitchen. Your heart refuses to settle in your chest as he stays hidden in the room. You know logically that you didn’t scare him off again. He’s seen your face, he knows what to expect, but still, your hand moves instinctively to pull your mask back up just as he reappears in the room.

“Dou demo ii you na yoru dakedo

Doyomeki kirameki to kimi mo”

“I love this song! We should go out and do karaoke after this,” Jeongin suggests as NIGHT DANCER plays overhead, quickly forgetting why everyone is there in the first place. Almost like it’s a normal dinner with friends. 

Normal.

You bite your bottom lip before slowly lowering your hand, leaving your mask down. Still on edge, you slowly relax into your chair, trying to calm yourself down. “Hanji sings this song really well,” Your voice wavers.

“Hannie sang for you? Wow, he really is cheating on me, huh?” Minho’s hand goes over his chest, miming his heart breaking.

“Hyung, stop it. She’s going to misunderstand,” Jisung whines, pouting at his roommate.

“You’re breaking apart our family, don’t get mad at me. Just think of the children. Yongbok is right there, this could traumatize him.” He adds fuel to the fire, causing Jisung to get more flustered.

“If everyone’s up for it, there’s a karaoke bar not too far from here,” Felix suggests as he takes a piece of the freshly cut meat that Hyunjin put on a plate.

“Actually,” Jisung turns to face you, catching your attention. “Y/n, can we go on a walk after dinner and talk?”

BADUM, BADUM

“S-sure,” You stutter, averting your eyes.

***

“Oh my god, I’m so full,” Han groans as he stretches. 

The two of you walk side by side along the sidewalk. It’s cold and dark. Thick blankets of snow cover the streets. The only things illuminating the street are the yellow-tinted lights from the street lamps that line the street and the soft white string lights from various Christmas decorations. The Christmas music playing overhead is louder than it was when you went out with Chan last week. A haunting reminder that Christmas is next week. If you weren’t already done with your shopping, you’d be panicking.

“So,” You clear your throat, “are you going to visit your parents for the holidays?”

Throughout dinner, the two of you relaxed quite a bit. The music and your brothers help to calm you down. Mostly. There were still moments when you would lock eyes with Jisung and he would have a stupid look on his face. Then you’d turn red or drop something at one point, and you got so flustered, that you accidentally put kimchi in one of the wraps you were making for Hyunjin because he was still too busy cooking. You know he’s never going to shut up about how you 'tried to kill him' for the rest of your life. And then Felix began teasing both you and Jisung after you helped Jisung pick up a perilla leaf while talking to Felix. Jisung stopped fully functioning for about 5 minutes.

“Y/n, Y/n, I’m having trouble picking this leaf up, can you help me?” Felix would ask every couple of minutes after the incident, earning a glare from Jisung.

But now, as the two of you walk side by side with Inuyasha, you’re back to being anxious. Your heart is in your throat, drumming straight into your brain. 

The talk.

The talk.

You knew the entire night that this was going to happen. And still, you mistakenly let yourself get comfortable throughout the night and let your guard down. The two of you have to address what happened on your birthday. When your mask broke and he saw your face without any warning.

“…oh fuck…”

Jisung’s voice replays in your head along with his terrified look. Just like it has been every day since your birthday. The same incessant phrase that played in your mind like a broken record. You were slowly forgetting all the good moments from your date, all of them being replaced by that moment, no matter how much you tried to forget it.

“Not this year,” Jisung sighs. “My brother is doing his military service, my dad is on a business trip, and my mother is back in Malaysia helping a sick friend. We’re doing a makeup thing in February when my brother gets home.”

“So then are you spending Christmas alone?” You ask, turning to Jisung. You can see the white puff of his breath in the chilled air.

“No, Felix can’t go home this year so the two of us are doing something the day of. Minho hyung and Jeongin aren’t going home until the 23rd so the four of us are having a mini-party on the 22nd. You can come if you want. Bring everyone, I think Minho hyung loves not being the oldest.”

Badum

“It’s okay, I don’t want to intrude.” You say innocently. 

Jisung stops dead in his tracks. You stop walking too, which causes Inuyasha to stop and turn back to you, confused. He turns his full body to you, lightly tugging on your arm. You turn to face him, giving him your full attention.

Badum

“What if I want you there?” He tilts his head to the side, “What if that’s my Christmas wish?”

Badum

There’s a strange air of confidence around him that takes you off guard. And for some reason, it makes you nervous.

“I-I…”

“Ah,” Jisung suddenly crouches down to the ground, clutching his head. “That was so lame, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that, I’m not like that at all. I mean, I want you there but the Christmas wish thing—I am so sorry.”

“Hanji…Jisung…stand up,” You call softly.

“I just like you a lot. It makes me say stupid shit,” He mumbles. “Sometimes I say stupid shit on purpose to make you laugh.”

Badum

“Why?” Your grip on Inuyasha’s leash tightens.

Badum, badum

“Because your laugh is really pretty,” He scoffs like it’s the most obvious answer and you offended him by questioning it.

Badum, badum

“No, I mean,” You dig your foot further into the snow. “Why do you like me?”

Badum, badum

“You’re kind, funny, caring, and you’re good at a lot of things. And you’re smart as hell. Why wouldn’t I like you?”

Badum, badum

You can count all the reasons why Jisung shouldn’t like you on both of your hands. For one, being you is mentally taxing, you can’t even imagine how tiring being with you will be. You feel bad enough that your family has to take care of you. You can’t do simple things like go to the grocery store without being on the verge of a panic attack. How are you supposed to go on dates? And then there’s your overall family situation. The dysfunction of it all. It works for you, you’re used to it. But letting outsiders like Jisung can be a lot too. The five of you understand each other in ways nobody else can understand. In ways you don’t want anyone else to understand. And even if Jisung can withstand all of that, the highs and lows of your mental health, your family, there’s no way he will be able to be with you. The looks the two of you will get when you’re out together. From passersby who will look at the two of you and question why he’s with you. The whispers that are a part of you. The critical stares. You’ve dealt with all that for most of your life and even you can’t deal with it. What makes him any different?

Badum, badum

“I can name one big reason,”

Badum, badum

“Hm?” Jisung hums, standing up and making direct eye contact with you.

Badum, badum, badum

You press your lips together and squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. Your eyes begin to sting as tears start to fill your eyes. You keep your eyes shut, preventing the tears from flowing over. You take a few deep breaths before pulling your mask off. The cool air nips at your lips just before you slowly open your eyes.

Badum, badum

“How could you like me?” You all but shout. “I scared you off last time, what’s stopping you now? What if you find someone more deserving to be with you? You should be with someone who deserves you.”

Badum, badum

“That’s you,”

Ba..badum, badum

“What?”

“You’re someone who deserves me…You’re worthy of me. There’s nobody else. If anything, I don’t deserve you. I’m not even worthy of your presence, let alone you.”

Badum, badum

“What are you…?”

Badum, badum

Jisung’s hand slowly reaches towards your face, out of habit, you flinch.

“Please?” He whispers softly, practically begging.

Badum, badum, badum, badum

You hesitate for a moment, looking between Jisung and his hand as you try to absorb all of the information you’ve collected in a short matter of time. Eventually, you nod, freezing in place as Jisung starts moving his hand again towards your face. You don’t even breathe as Jisung’s ice-cold hand brushes against your forehead, moving your bangs out of the way, your entire face exposed. His fingers feel like burning fire on your skin.

BADUM, BADUM, BADUM, BADUM

“I wasn’t scared when I saw your face. I mean I was scared—But not of you. I was scared for you. I knew you weren’t ready yet and I was scared of all the terrifying thoughts that racing through your mind. The look on your face scared me. I know that look—I knew how you were feeling and I didn’t want you to feel that way. I hate the way my anxiety makes me feel but I would have gladly taken away your anxiety and felt it for you if that made you happy.”

Badum, badum, badum, badum

 Inuyasha walks over to Jisung and presses his nose into his leg. Both of you ignore it. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I love you,” He says simply as if it’s a casual conversation. 

Badum, badum, badum, badum

“You…love….me?” Your mouth hangs slightly open in shock.

“I’ve known it for a while, I think, but tonight confirmed it for sure.”

“Why?” Now you’re the broken record.

“Hm,” Jisung places a finger on his bottom lip. His eyes look up like he’s trying to search for an answer. “I could just tell you all the reasons right now. Or I can tell you all the little things I love about you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“The rest of our lives?” You parrot.

Your body is as frozen as the ice on the street as your mind swirls with all the information and sweet words coming out of Jisung’s mouth. He’s making your mind swirl. But in a good way.

“Uh huh, the rest of our lives. And you want to know why? Because I love you. I want to be with you. I want to call you cute little pet names and hold your hand. And just sit around and do nothing with you. I want to stare at your pretty face all day. And be there whenever you need me. And, oh my god, I want to kiss you so fucking bad. It’s insane. I think I need to be hosed down.”

Badum, badum, badum, badum

You stand, unmovable for a moment. Jisung loves you. He wants to be with you. He wants to kiss you. You. All you can do is blink slowly as all of your thoughts leave your mind. You want to do something or say something but all you can do is stare at Jisung, specifically the curves of his lips imagining how they would feel against yours. You imagine they’d be as soft as his fingers were just a moment ago. And you dangerously begin to imagine your future together. A future where you can be together without judgment. Without fear.

Badum, badum, badum, badum

“…Then…why don’t you?” You question, almost immediately regretting it the second it came out of your mouth. 

Badum, badum, badum, badum

You’re not sure where this new confidence is coming from but you love it. You stand there, waiting in anticipation as Inuyasha makes his way over to you, pressing his nose against your leg now.

“What?” Jisung’s smile drops.

Badum, badum, badum, badum

“You said you wanted to kiss me, then go ahead.”

Badum, badum, badum, badum

You’re not sure why you’re being so bold. Maybe this is the only time you get a kiss. Maybe because it’s Jisung. For the first time, you don’t care. You don’t care about the fact that Jisung might change his mind one day. You don’t care about your face being out while people are walking around. It’s silly to think that this is all because of a man, but Jisung is somehow giving you the confidence you need.

Jisung stares at you for a moment, all of his confidence gone. You’re almost certain you stole it. He runs his hand through his hair before he mutters something under his breath and starts leaning in.

BADUM, BADUM, BADUM, BADUM

You close your eyes, waiting for the feel of Jisung’s lips on yours. Your heart is making its way up your throat. At this rate, your heart might just leap out of your mouth and kiss Jisung instead.

Konk!

You grab your forehead and drop to your knees. Oh course you would bump heads during your first kiss. You can’t just have one moment, can you? You can’t imagine what this scene looks like to even else. You’re both on the floor, holding your head. It was a soft his but Jisung’s head is so hard, it’s like running into a metal bat.

“Ah shit, are you okay?” Jisung crouches down to your level, seemingly unaffected, and begins rubbing the spot he hit. 

“You have a hard head!” You whine.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Here,” Jisung stops rubbing your forehead and places a soft, warm kiss on the red spot on your head. 

Jisung pulls away. And stares at you. Your head is throbbing and you’re no longer sure if it’s because of your anxiety or the pain from hitting the bulldozer that is Han Jisung’s forehead. After what feels like forever, Jisung places a finger under your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him. He remains quiet, thinking about something before he crashes his lips into yours.

It’s a simple kiss, just your lips touching. And yet, it's enough to make your head spin and melt the ice that has been freezing your body the entire time you’ve been outside. It feels like time is frozen and the two of you are in your own little bubble.

Just as quickly as it happened, Jisung pulls his lips away. Concern fills his face as he tries to read yours. He slowly relaxes his face and lets out a relieved sigh when he realized that you’re not freaking out. If your brain was functioning, it would be. You’re absolutely certain that he broke your brain when he head-butted you.

“I want to do that for the rest of our lives too,” The corner of his mouth turns up into a sly smirk, “if you’ll let me?”

“I’m scared,” You whisper, barely audible.

“I’m scared too. It’s terrifying to let someone in. We can be scared together.”

Again, you let your mind wander as you imagine your future with Jisung. Dates the two of you might go on. All the jokes you two can share. A future with a wedding and maybe a kid or two if you two saw fit. And the thought of living a life where he might not be in it because you let your fear and anxieties get in the way causes your heart to race even more. 

Inuyasha lets out one loud bark, causing worry to flash over Jisung’s face again.

“I…” Your voice falters, unsure of what words to say next. You know what you want to say, but the words are missing. They’re on the pavement being trampled by everyone walking by.

“If you’re not ready, I understand. I’ll wait for you, you’re worth waiting for.”

“I…” You take a deep breath in before letting go of Inuyasha’s leash and grabbing onto Jisung’s collar. You pause for a moment, playing every possible outcome in your head. The good, the bad, the ugly. But all of that is being overshadowed by Jisung.

BADUM

You just want to be normal.

BADUM

To be happy.

BADUM

Without a second thought, you pull Jisung towards you, pressing your lips together one last time. After a second, you separate from him and rest your forehead on his, hot tears falling down your face.

You’re scared. You’re scared of Jisung waking up one day and realizing that he doesn’t want to be with you. That he’ll turn out like everyone else. That he doesn’t actually love you and that he just thinks he does. But there’s something inside that keeps gnawing at you that you’ve never felt before. You feel it in your chest and the pit of your stomach. It’s so unfamiliar that it scares you.

BADUM

Hope

“I…I want to be with you,” You choke out.

Jisung chuckles, his hot breath tickling your face. He places both of his hands on either side of your face and pulls his face back. A large smile spread across his cheeks, you’re scared it’s going to break his face.

“Okay,” He replies softly before pressing one more gentle kiss into your lips.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

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[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

A while ago, I commissioned the wonderful and talented @nae812 to draw a scene from my YOI novelisation Can You Hear My Heartbeat. The scene is part of the Tanabata* chapter, set during the summer of mutual pining, and I'm very proud to share the absolutely gorgeous result with you:

Posted with permission from the artist because commission conditions and stuff. Do not repost.

They fell silent, watching the stars. But Yuuri’s heart refused to be still.

“O-hoshi-sama,” Viktor murmured, gazing at the sky. “I get it now. How can you look at the universe spinning in the sky and simply call them hoshi?”

Yuuri smiled. “Yeah. The stars are that majestic.”

“I like it. This is the most beautiful night of my life so far, Yuuri. Not even the White Nights can compare to this.”

The warm, reverent nuance in his voice made Yuuri tremble. This night, this place—it created a closeness he had never felt before with Viktor. As if a bridge had emerged from the sea of stars between them.

“Um, Viktor. There’s something you should know.”

“Huh?”

“There’s an even larger Tanabata festival held in Fukuoka.” The words welled out of Yuuri, encouraged by the darkness engulfing them and because they were not facing each other. “It’s because they have a huge Tanabata shrine there. I… I didn’t suggest it because you wanted to see the fireworks, but we wouldn’t have been able to stay that late because we’d need to catch the last train back. And I didn’t want to take the van because I wasn’t sure if I’d want to drink and I also don’t like to drive at night.” And because it would have been a date then. “My apologies.”

“No, Yuuri,” Viktor said softly. “I’m glad we stayed here. Fukuoka is likely overcrowded tonight and I don’t want to do that to Makkachin. Besides, here we have a better view of the stars because of less—how did you call it?”

“Light pollution.”

“Right.” Viktor’s voice was warm in the night as if he was smiling. “Thanks for introducing me to this festival, Yuuri.”

Yuuri thought back to the wish he had written on the red tanzaku. I wish that I’ll figure out my feelings for Viktor. I wish it to be love.

“I’m glad we came here, too.”

A reddish shine illuminated the lookout, followed by a cracking noise that ruptured the silence. “The fireworks have started!” Yuuri said. “Let’s watch!”

They hurried to a spot where the trees parted. Orange sparks rose into the sky and blossomed into colourful stars, illuminating rooftops and the people cramming on the beach and along the bridges, glittering on the bay. A sudden giddiness rose in Yuuri.

“When I was younger, I often imagined what it would be like to celebrate Tanabata with you,” he said. Each year, he had written a wish for it and hung it on a tree. “I didn’t ask you because I didn’t know how to do it without things taking a weird turn.”

“Really?” Viktor’s voice was hushed with an undercurrent of excitement.

Yuuri nodded. “The last weeks were very nice. I would have hated to ruin that.”

A hand touched Yuuri’s shoulder, stirring a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. “I enjoy our time together very much, too.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri said. His heart fluttered.  

They fell silent, watching the colourful sparks blossoming above the town, mirrored on the silent river. The hand remained on his shoulder and Yuuri found he liked it being there.

“Yuuri?”

“Hum?”

“Will you tell me what you wished for?”

“No, Viktor.”

“I’ll tell you what I wished for in return.”

“It won’t come true when you say it aloud.”

“But if a wish isn’t voiced no one will know and they won’t do anything about it.”

“The gods will.”

If I were already sure of my feelings, this would have been the perfect date, Yuuri mused.

“Will you tell me your wish when it comes true?”

You will know when it comes true, Yuuri thought, struggling to tame the tempest of emotions raging within his heart. “Yes,” he said, leaning his head against Viktor’s shoulder. “I will.”

-- Chapter 17: So close and yet a universe apart

*On Tanabata or the Star Festival:

According to a legend, Princess Orihime fell in love with a cow herd named Hikoboshi, and their love was so great that both neglected their duties whereopun Orihime's father, the Emperor, banished the pair to the heavens with the Milky Way separating them. Orihime became the star Vega and Hikoboshi became the star Altair. Only once a year, in the seventh night of the seventh month, they can meet--but only if the skies are clear.

Tanabata (七夕) is celebrated in July, but in some regions, it's celebrated in August (depending on whether the Gregorian calendar or the lunar calendar is used). The stars Vega and Altair are visible in Japan from July to September. There's a couple of customs surrounding the festival, one of them is to write your wishes on paper strips and hang them on a bamboo tree. These trees are set afloat or burnt during the night. Tanabata is a very popular festival in Japan and often referred to as the most romantic night of the year. However, since in most regions, the rainy season lasts until August, the chances for clear skies are 30% on average and thus people pray for good weather several days in advance.

[boba-beom]

'oh yeah?' | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW

p: bf!yeonjun x ff!reader // wc: 387 // w: petnames (baby, princess, good girl), 'daddy' used ONCE, yeonjun is unserious // drabble; suggestive/smut(?) // this has been a lil thing that comes back to my mind, so I wanna share it 🤭 merry christmas filthy animals 🫶🏼

yeonjun would be the type of boyfriend who would call you up while you're both in the middle of a petty argument that's blown out of proportion. hear me out.

as soon as you pick up the phone you want to tell him to leave you alone, but he starts talking to you like nothing happened, asking you if you're okay.

you reply with, "okay? do you think I'm okay? do I sound okay to you?" and you continue telling him how you've been feeling, ranting and going on a tangent about how you're still mad at him.

but that's not what yeonjun's focusing on, no. he's too focused on that subtle whine in your voice when you're complaining. he's too focused on your heavy breathes over the phone from you letting out that anger.

he does nothing but hold the phone diligently by his ear, scoffing and nodding, pretending to care even if you can't see him. his mind wanders, straying away from the focal point and he cuts you off mid rant.

"oh yeah? is that right, baby?" a smirk playing on his lips.

silence with your breaths on your side of the phone made yeonjun chuckle to himself. and you have to remind yourself to be mad at him at that moment, but why does he have your heart palpitating in your chest.

"come on. it sounded like you had a lot more to say." he'd say, encouraging you to continue your rant. if you had anything left to rant about, that is.

"yeonjun..." your voice would trail.

"talk to me, princess. what is it?" he shoves his hand in his pocket, cocking a brow as he awaits your next few words.

"I miss you." you say in a hushed voice, but yeonjun managed to catch it.

"yeah? need me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours? fuck that attitude out of you, hm? gonna use your pretty noises for me, huh baby?" he bites his bottom lip at the thought of ruining you until your a sobbing, dumb, mess under him.

"please. I need you so bad." the whine in your voice returns and it makes yeonjun's dick jump in his pants.

"be a good girl for me and get ready, okay? I'll be there in ten." yeonjun's voice is stern but has a playful tone to it.

"yes daddy."

© BOBA-BEOM ; do not repost, alter, translate, or claim as yours on here or any other platform.

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @hyuntaena @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman (here's my taglist, lmk if you want to be added to it and please specify!)

[moni-logues]

Dickless

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Genre: basically pwp but like, enemies to lovers if you REALLY squint

Summary: Your boyfriend won't go down on you and it is a Problem. Fortunately, your friendly neighbourhood fuckboy (or is he??) Taehyung is there to lend a mouth hand.

Word count: 11.1k

Content: oral sex (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, infidelity, some very poor communicating

A/N: it's another repost!!! because this just hit 2k notes on the old blog 🥺🥺🥺 I have a secret soft spot for this fic, ngl. I'm secretly (not so secretly) proud of the smut; I tried to do something a bit different with my writing and I like how it came out, at least those parts. I have not edited this at all due to the aforemetioned bottle of wine so, here it is as it always was

ETA: the sexual politics of this one are 🥴😬 because reader essentially won't accept the truth that sexual incompatibility is both real and a valid reason to not continue a relationship. No one should be pressured into doing something they don't want and that extends to her bf! It's not his fault! She should have dumped him months ago! And she didn't! And she's in the wrong for that!! To be clear: she is in the wrong!!!!

That said, she's not a total cunt; she is struggling with it and doesn't want to break-up with him because she does (did) love him and she feels like she should just be able to give up this thing because it's only her, it's only what she wants, it doesn't really matter-- except it does matter; what she wants does matter and she had to come to terms with that and the fact that that means she and her bf can't be together.

* * *

You remembered the first time you saw Taehyung. You were at a bar your friend had dragged you to because she knew he would be there; they had been sleeping together for a couple of weeks and she wanted to ‘casually’ run into him as he had stopped replying to her texts.  

“There he is,” Tara had hissed, pointing to a tall man across the room, dark curls bouncing on his brow, long fingers curled around a wine glass, and an intense look on his face.  

Moving further into the room, it had then been revealed that the target of his gaze was another woman and, despite your friend’s best attempts, Taehyung was not interested. She had dragged you to the toilets where she cried, real, huge tears. 

“It’s just been a couple of weeks, hasn’t it? Did you say you were exclusive?” you had asked, trying to be sensitive but shocked at the display of emotion. She wasn’t usually like this. 

“I’m not crying because I’m in love with him or something!” she had replied, her voice thick with tears. “I’m crying because he’s never going to sleep with me again!” 

“What?” 

“If he’s done with me, then that’s it. I’m done for. I’m done with sex.”  

She had fixed you with a wet, shining stare. 

“No one is as good in bed as Taehyung.” Her voice was hushed, awed. “He... You just don’t know if you haven’t slept with him, ok? He has ruined me. I can never sleep with anyone else, not knowing that he’s out there somewhere, not sleeping with me. No on-” 

“No one is that good at sex. Come on; it’s not like he’s got a magic dick or so-” 

“Yes, he has! He absolutely has. But it’s not just his dick – it's his everything. I’m telling you, y/n-” she had sniffled for dramatic effect, her tears were mostly dried- “he’s the best I’ve ever had or will ever have and, honestly, if he ever shows any interest in you, take it.” 

“I have a boyfriend.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Your mouth dropped open in shock; she knew your boyfriend; you had thought they got along well; but she interrupted you before you could argue. 

“I’m serious, y/n. This is a hall pass situation. Do not turn Taehyung down.” 

“So I can end up like you, crying over his dick in a toilet?” 

She had fixed you with a death glare but could not exactly say you were wrong.  

* * *  

That was months ago now. And, somehow, Taehyung kept popping up in your life. At the pub, at bars, at a party where you weren’t even sure he knew anyone – he just happened to be there. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him because you didn’t even know him, but you certainly had no interest in getting to know him. Men like him were ten a penny and, despite what you had been told about him, you were not convinced he was all that in the sack, because men like him never are. 

He was certainly handsome; you wouldn’t deny that. But attractive? No one that smug, that arrogant, could ever be attractive to you. Someone who thinks the world is at their feet, that everyone should fall to their knees for them, that other people exist only for their delectation... That was disgusting, not sexy. Even if you hadn’t had a boyfriend, you knew there was no way his ‘charm’ could work on you. All bluster and machismo and that quirked eyebrow and little smirk? No, thank you. 

“You know, I’ve been seeing you around a lot, but I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.”  

The voice came from behind you and you knew, without having to look, who it would be. You replied not even bothering to turn around. 

“No need. I know who you are.” 

“Oh? And who am I?” 

He was next to you then, leaning against the wall, your arms touching. 

“You’re Taehyung with the magical dick.” 

“Oh, is that what they call me?” 

“Well, I don’t-” 

“You just did.” 

“I don’t but rumour has it... Of course, I don’t believe a word.” 

“There are rumours going around that I have a magical dick and you don’t believe them... You know there’s one way to know for sure?” 

You turned to him, then, stared into his eyes – wide, innocent, as if he wasn’t just asking you to fuck him without even knowing your name – and scoffed. 

“No, thanks. I have a boyfriend.” 

“And does he have a magical dick?” 

You didn’t hesitate, not really, not for more than half a second, but it was enough. 

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a real shame. You want my number so you can pass it on to him? Maybe I could give him some tips?” 

“Ugh, goodbye, Taehyung.” 

You pushed yourself off the wall and made your way through the room, but he followed after you. 

“Or,” he continued. “You could just take my number and not pass it on, maybe keep it for yourself. In case of an emergency or-” 

“Emergency? What emergency might I possibly ever have that I would require your assistance?” 

He leant down, so close that you could smell his shampoo and his drink on his breath. His cheek barely brushed yours as he brought his lips to your ear. 

“Maybe your boyfriend with the disappointing dick can’t get you off and you’re so on edge that you think, god I’d do anything, anything, to come right now, but you can’t. Then you’re lying there, hot and bothered and unsatisfied, yearning for something, someone, to come and sort you out, to show you the kind of pleasure you’ve not even ever dreamt of. And you think of me, and my magical dick, and you think, oh how I wish I’d taken his number; if I had his number, I’d call him right no-” 

You put a hand against his chest and pushed him back.  

“I’m not taking your number and I’m not going to call you. This-” you gestured broadly to him “this doesn’t work on me. You’re a fuckboy and I don’t fuck with fuckboys. Goodbye.” 

As you walked away from him for the second time, he didn’t follow and you had to stop yourself turning around to see if he was still looking at you. It didn’t matter if he was or not, but you liked the idea of denying the undeniable man, of being one person he couldn’t charm, couldn’t win over. You didn’t care if his dick really was magic or not because you knew you would never be finding out.  

* * *  

The next time you saw him was a few weeks later, at a party. He was on the sofa, slouching low, an empty glass held slack in his hand, dangling at the end of his wrist. He wasn’t talking to anyone, not making moves or scanning for prey; just sitting, staring into space. You turned away from him; you didn’t want to think about a sex god right now; you didn’t want to think about sex full-stop. You ideally wanted to not think at all. You left the room. 

Later that night, when you went back inside, you saw him again. He was still sitting on the sofa, empty glass (the same one?) in hand, still staring into space. You briefly wondered if he was on drugs and, if he were, whether that was deliberate or he’d had his drink spiked. Most people seemed to be ignoring him, or they hadn’t noticed him at all. You sat down next to him. 

“No conquest tonight?” 

“Nope.” 

“What? Not even one? You can’t be telling me your magical dick would miss an opportunity like this: all these people, drinks flowing, inhibitio-” 

“I said no.” 

He tipped his head over the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. 

“Are you ok?” 

“Yep.” 

“Are you lying?” 

“Yep.” 

You had to stifle a giggle and take a pause before you continued. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve had your heartbroken. Mr Magical Dick, Mr Fuck Anything That Moves, Mr Don’t Keep Anyone Around For More Than Two Weeks has had his little heart broken?” 

You could see his jaw work as he tongued at the inside of his cheek, as if deliberating whether or not he would confide in you. 

“In a manner of speaking.” 

The way you gasped was uncharitable, and on a different night, you might have been less callous, but misery loves company and you were delighted to find out that someone else – Kim Taehyung at that – was having relationship problems. You were just fixing on your best retort, tidying it up on the tip of your tongue when he spoke again. 

“Before you say whatever clever remark you’re currently labouring over, my fucking grandmother died, ok? So save it.” 

“Oh.” Surprised didn’t even come close. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

He stood and walked away but you followed him, up the stairs and into an empty bedroom where he collapsed on the bed. You followed him in and shut the door behind you, but stayed next to it, unsure what to say or do. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ventured. 

“No.” 

“Do you want to drink about it?” 

He lifted the empty glass in his hand as if he were about to take a sip and then held it out to you. 

“Sure.” 

“Ok, uh, stay here then and I’ll be back.” 

When you returned to the bedroom (bottle of unfortunately cheap vodka in hand), you thought he must have left: the bed was empty. Then you saw his feet poking out from the other side and found him lying on the floor. You took his glass, poured him a drink, and watched him as he knocked it back. He grimaced and looked at you. 

“This is horrible.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I figured it wouldn’t be missed. Sorry.” 

He held his glass up for more. 

You sat, drinking in silence. You didn’t know what to say to him and he was obviously not interested in conversation so part of you wanted to leave him alone, but he hadn’t told you to leave, and he was still holding his glass out for more, and you didn’t really feel like he should’ve been alone. So, you stayed. It was nice, actually. You hadn’t really been in the mood for a party – you had just wanted to get out – so you were enjoying the quiet. You were enjoying the way the vodka was making you warm, edges all fuzzy and soft, the noise far away.  

“She basically raised me.” 

His voice was quiet and thick; you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just talking.  

“Yeah?”  

“She-” 

He looked at you then, his eyes not quite focusing, and stopped talking. 

“You can tell me about her, if you want.” 

He shook his head with a groan and drew his knees up to his chest, dropping his head between them.  

“I’m going to go home,” he said after another short while had passed. 

“You sure?” 

He nodded. 

“Can you get home ok? Did you need me to get you a taxi or call someone?” 

He shook his head and fished his phone out of his pocket, waving it at you, unlocking it to order a car. You almost didn’t reach out for it, but you knew you would feel responsible if something happened, so you took his phone and entered your number into it. 

“Please let me know when you have got home safe, ok?” 

He looks at you, suspicious, and then playful as that all-too-familiar smirk returns to his lips. 

“It was all a ruse, huh? Get me drunk and give me your number under the pretence of concern for me, huh? I knew you wanted me.” 

“What I want, Taehyung, is to not be the last person to see you alive and the subsequent subject of a murder investigation.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re the one who calls me magic dick...” 

He winked at you and then turned, waving a hand in your direction, stumbling down the stairs. You figured you might as well call it a night yourself.  

You were back in your apartment, washed and undressed, tapping impatiently at the side of your phone, not sure if you should wait to hear from Taehyung or assume that he’d forgotten and just go to sleep yourself. Then a message came in from an unknown number. 

A head shot, but with enough of his shoulders displayed to make it clear he was topless, his black hair splayed on the pillow behind his head. He had his eyes closed, his fingers in a V over his mouth. 

???: Didn’t die. 

???: Unlike my grandma 🙁 

You choked on surprised laughter. 

y/n: Glad you got home ok. Sorry about your gma 🙁 

* * *  

Your phone rang the next evening while you were making tea and you answered without looking who was calling. 

“Hello?” 

“What the fuck is this I hear about you and Kim Taehyung?” 

It was your boyfriend. 

“Uh, I don’t know; what did you hear?” 

“Apparently, you’re fucking.” 

“WHAT?!”  

“Apparently, when you were out last night, you and Taehyung went into a bedroom for a very long time and he came out looking very pleased with himself.” 

“Ok and? That means we’re fucking, does it?” 

“I don’t know; I’m asking you.” 

“Ok, well, no, we didn’t. We didn’t really do anything. We just sat and drank.” 

“What do you mean you just sat and drank? What even is that?” 

“I mean we literally sat and drank. I wasn’t in a good mood and neither was he, so I nicked a bottle of vodka from the kitchen and we sat in the dark, in silence, drinking it. That’s it.” 

There was an aggrieved sigh from the other end of the phone. 

“So, it’s my fault, is it? Is that what this is about? You trying to make me jealous or some sh-” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m supposed to believe it’s just a coincidence that, almost immediately after we have an argument about me not going down on you, you end up at a party with the most notorious fuckboy in the fucking country?” 

You could feel anger swelling within you, sweat pricking on your back and in your palms. 

“Believe what you want. I’m telling you nothing happened.” 

You hung up. You were not about to be accused of cheating by a guy who, frankly, already owed you an apology. As if you would’ve done that. Even if you had been single, you wouldn’t have slept with Taehyung – not ever, but certainly not last night. You had a little more decency than that. Hell, even Taehyung had more decency than that. You tried to push it from your mind; if you had been your boyfriend, maybe you would’ve thought it, too, or at least, felt insecure about it or unsure. You could admit that it didn’t necessarily look great – you were very aware of Taehyung’s reputation and maybe you should have considered that before shutting yourself in a room with him. But you also knew you hadn’t done anything wrong. So you were prepared to let it blow over.  

* * *  

Taehyung: You coming tonight? 

y/n: Coming where? 

Taehyung: Jimin’s party? 

y/n: 🤷‍♀️ not invited 

Taehyung: Ok, I’m inviting you. 

Taehyung: So you coming? 

y/n: Can’t. Have a date 

Taehyung: You dumped disappointing dick??!!! 😄😄😄 

y/n: No. 

y/n: He’s still my boyfriend. My date is with him. 

Taehyung: Boo 😒 let me know when you finally leave him 

y/n: Fuck off, taehyung 

* * *  

You didn’t see him for a few weeks after that, until you found yourself actually searching for him, peeking into dark corners in clubs and bars to see if he was there. You weren’t sure why you did; you weren’t friends and you certainly weren’t interested in him. But you were intrigued. You always assumed people like him were shallow – truly of the no thoughts, head empty kind. You hadn’t really considered that he might be a real person under there somewhere. Albeit a smug, arrogant, charmless, shameless person. Who may or may not have had a magic dick. 

You thought about what your friend had said, the first time you met Taehyung. How she had cried, not because she liked him, not because he broke her heart, but because she would never get to sleep with him again. You couldn’t imagine it, sex that good. Not that the sex you had was bad (it wasn’t), it was good, even, but you couldn’t imagine it being so good, so much better than now that it would inspire such a reaction.  

You began to think about it more and more as things with your boyfriend went from bad to worse.  

The club was hot and loud and you were happy to be drunk and dancing. Happy, that is, until you weren’t. Your phone buzzed once, twice, three times, four times. You knew it was your boyfriend and you knew it was because you were out without him. Which was kind of the whole point; you didn’t want to speak to him. 

You wandered outside to the smoking area, for some air, to scan your eyes over your boyfriend’s messages and see if there was anything worth replying to. And there was Taehyung. He hadn’t seen you yet and you knew you had only a few seconds before he turned around and noticed you. You realised, with what might have been clarity or might have been too much gin, that of all the people in all the world that you might speak to about your problems, Taehyung was probably the best: experienced, not your friend, you didn’t care about his opinion of you, and he didn’t think much of your boyfriend. 

“Hey, Taehyung,” you called as you approached.  

He turned and his smug, little smirk turned into a genuine smile when he saw you. 

“Y/n! It’s been a while. Still being disappointed in the bedroom?” 

You almost changed your mind. 

“Shut up, Taehyung. I have to ask you something.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“You have a lot of sex, right? Like, a lot of sex with a lot of different wome-... people? Right?” 

He shrugged. 

“Some, sure. Maybe a lot. Depends who’s asking.” 

“Whatever, you know what I mean. When you have sex with someone with a... with uh, a vulva, do you go down on them?” 

He looked at you as if you had suddenly grown another head and, when he answered, he spoke slowly, as if you were an idiot. 

“Yes, if they have a pussy, I go down on them.” 

“Always? Like, every time?” 

“Well, I guess probably not 100% of the time, but... I don’t know, 95?” 

This was not the answer you had been hoping for.  

“Why are you a-” He cut himself off with a gasp and looked at you, shock and glee in equal measure on his face. “Does Disappointing Dick not go down on you?” 

You blushed furiously, your face hot, and stomped your foot, shushing him viciously. 

“No,” you admitted, through gritted teeth. “No, he doesn’t. Not ever.” 

“Not ever?” 

“Not ever.” 

“Like, not even a little?” 

“I said not ever! What do you not understand about those words?” 

“Why?” 

“You mean why doesn’t he?” You shrugged, trying to appear more unbothered than you were. “He says he doesn’t like it.” 

“Doesn’t like it? Is he gay?” 

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a groan, intending to drop it, but he grabbed your arm and turned you back. 

“I’m being serious. If he’s not going down on you, he can’t be that into pussy. Is it just you or was he the same with previous partners?” 

“He says it’s everyone, not just me. He says he just doesn’t like it.” 

“Has he tried? With you, I mean?” 

You grimaced at the memory. 

“Once.” 

“And how was it?” 

“Awful. I couldn’t relax because all I could think about was how much he didn’t want to do it and he was so awkward and tentative and then he got annoyed because I wasn’t enjoying-” 

“He got annoyed?” 

“Yeah.” 

Taehyung’s brows came over his eyes and his lips pouted forward. He looked at you, thinking carefully. 

“Do you go down on him?” 

“Well, yeah, but I like doing it so it’s not an issue.” 

“But him not going down on you is an issue?” 

“Yes. I know I shouldn’t make it a big deal and maybe it’s not and I’m just being selfis-” 

He held up a hand to cut you off before you could even finish the word. 

“You’ve done things you aren’t that keen on in bed, right?” 

“Uh, wh- what do you mean? No one’s ever forced me to do-” 

“No, I don’t mean that. I just mean... There are some positions you like more than others, yeah? Or maybe he likes to fuck in the shower but you prefer not to or he likes morning sex and you don’t really, but you sometimes do it anyway, even though it’s not your favourite thing?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“So why do you do them?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well if they’re not really top of your list, why do you do them at all? Why not just say no and only do it how you want?” 

“Because it’s not just about me. It’s about them, too, and I want them to have a good time. And, ok, maybe we do it that way this time, and next time, we’ll do it my way.” 

“Exactly.” 

“I don’t see your point.” 

“My point is that, even if eating your pussy isn’t his favourite thing to do, he should still do it because it’s something that you like and that makes you feel good and he should care about that.” 

“You care, do you? About all the people you have sex with?” 

“Yes, I do.” His eyes were sharp, his lips almost sneering. He seemed annoyed but you couldn’t work out why. “Why are you asking me about this anyway? Want me to give you what you’re missing?” 

You punched him in the arm, a little harder than you’d intended, and he scowled, giving the area a rub. 

“No. Why would you ask me that? Of course, I fucking don’t. I have a boyfriend.” 

“Yeah. And maybe you shouldn’t.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

He lifts an eyebrow at you, disbelief and impatience clear on his face. 

“You know what I mean. And you know I’m always here for you.” 

For one second, you really thought he was being nice and thoughtful; you thought he might be treating you like a friend. And then reality came back to you and you realised precisely what he meant. You punched him in the arm again.  

“Fuck off, Taehyung. I’m not fucking you.” 

“That’s not what I offered. Come on, sweetheart-” 

“Don’t fucking call me that!”  

“Y/n, seriously.”  

He cradled your cheek with his hand and looked closely at you. His brown eyes were so warm, inviting, so wide and open and sweet that you couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth next.  

“What’s a little oral between friends? Let me show you your pretty little pussy’s worth wanting.” 

“Ugh!” 

You ripped your face away from his hand and stalked off, even as he called after you. The juxtaposition of that cute, teddy-bear face and his fucking depravity would give you whiplash. You told yourself that’s what it was; that he was confusing and you didn’t know how to take him, didn’t know if you could trust him. That’s why you could feel a cold stone of anxiety sinking in your stomach; you were discombobulated, that’s all. You were drunk. He had knocked you off kilter.  

You were fine. 

The next day, Taehyung messaged you. 

Taehyung: I’m sorry for overstepping, ok?  

You didn’t have time to read the rest before he was video-calling you. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

“You haven’t even given me three seconds to read your messages yet.” 

“I know, but it said you read them so I knew you were looking at your phone and I wanted to speak to you.” 

“I don’t know if that’s smart or creepy.” 

You could tell he shrugged by the jolt of the camera. 

“What do you want, then? You’ve already apologised.” 

“I don’t want to apologise. Not really... Well, I do if I made you uncomfortable. I am sorry if I did but I’m not going to apologise for anything else. Not even this... 

“No partner should ever make you feel weird or self-conscious or bad or insecure or anything like that. If you are putting your trust in someone, if you’re literally putting your body in their hands, they had better make damn fucking sure that they’re treating it right, that they’re taking care of you, that you feel good, that you feel better being with them than you do on your own. That’s all non-negotiable. It doesn’t sound like Dickless is doing that.” 

“What happened to Disappointing Dick?” 

“I demoted him. He doesn’t deserve a dick.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“I’m fucking serious. You deserve better.” 

You hung up on him. You didn’t want to hear it because you didn’t want to admit that it did make you feel bad; that you were self-conscious now; that something bad was definitely happening inside your brain and you didn’t, somehow, feel like you had the right to blame your boyfriend. 

Taehyung, persistent as ever, sent a text. 

Taehyung: I’m sorry if you’re upset but I’m also not sorry. You deserve better. You deserve to be feel like your body is perfect because it is. Your body is a site of worship and if he’s not praying to you, sacrificing to you, he’s blaspheming. You deserve to be fucked by someone who will recognise what you are, will recognise how lucky they are to be with you, will make sure they let you know just how desirable and sexy and fucking perfect you are. That's all. 

Y/n: You mean someone like you? 

Taehyung: 🙄🙄🙄 

Taehyung: NO. I’m not trying to fuck you; you’ve made your feelings on that abundantly clear. This is not about me at all. How many times do I have to say I’m serious about this? Your boyfriend is a sack of shit.  

You did not reply. 

* * *  

It was a Monday morning, hardly the highlight of anyone’s week, when you next ran into Taehyung. As you entered the café, you could see him, waiting for his coffee at the other end of the bar. You ignored him and placed your order, hoping he would be gone before you had finished.  

No such luck. Worse still, he immediately started talking to you. 

“I just have one question; will you let me ask one question?” 

“What?” 

“Are you prepared to go the rest of your life with no one going down on you?” 

“What?” 

You could feel your face heat and you glanced nervously around, hoping no one else had heard him. You were furious with him for bringing it up here, in public, first thing in the morning, but you were also not prepared for that question and a cold feeling of dread slipped through your veins like ice. 

“You’re in a relationship with this guy; at some point, eventually, you’ll get married, right? And that’s it, then; you’re staring down the barrel of what, 70 years without it? You’ve already had your last time. Do you remember it? Was it even good?” 

You knew it wasn’t because the last time anyone did it was the first – and only – time your boyfriend had and that had been an unmitigated disaster.  

“We’re not that serious, Taehyung. We’re not getting married.” 

“Maybe not now, but if you don’t break up, that’s where you’re headed, isn’t it? Is it really something you’re willing to give up forever? For him?”  

Your coffee had arrived and you had hoped you could take it and run, but Taehyung picked up your cup with his spare hand and wandered towards a spare table.  

“I don’t even know why you care so much,” you hissed as you sat opposite him at the table. 

“I don’t know why you don’t. You asked me for a reason and you are apparently completely unwilling to listen to anything. Is what I’m saying so radical? What do your other friends say?” 

You couldn’t answer that question because you hadn’t told anyone else. It was too embarrassing.  

“Have you even told anyone else?” 

“No.” 

“Then why me? Because I’m just some disgusting, shallow fuckboy whose opinion you don’t care about except when it might benefit you? Because you expected me to say that I don’t go down on the women I sleep with? Expected me to make some crude joke or cruel comment about them? Because you think that, just because I sleep with a lot of people, I must not respect them enough to treat them right? All of the above?” 

The silence between the two of you was thick, untouched by the noise and bustle of the café around you. You couldn’t deny that basically everything he had said was true, but hearing him say it made you feel thoroughly shamed. 

“I’m not offended,” he continued. “Because I know that none of that is true, as does everyone who actually knows me. You haven’t bothered to get to know me-” 

“Yeah because all you do is try to get in my pants!” 

“How is that true? Did I not just tell you that I’m not trying to fuck you? That this isn’t about me? Contrary to your beliefs, you are actually not some kind of irresistible siren whom I will make it my life mission to bed. I can live without fucking you, thank you very much. And you think I’m arrogant.” 

“I don’t think I’m irresistible,” you protested weakly.  

“I’m not interested in arguing with you. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He paused to give you a dramatic, over the top, sexy wink and you couldn’t stop yourself rolling your eyes. “But, for the millionth time, I am serious about this. And you need to get serious about it. Here, enjoy your coffee, sweetheart.” 

He slid your cup towards you, stood, and left before you could tell him off for calling you that again. You were rattled and frustrated and couldn’t stop thinking about the rest of your life.  

You couldn’t stop thinking about it that day or that week or even into the next week. You saw your boyfriend three times and had sex that you couldn’t enjoy because you couldn’t stop thinking about it.  

It was the last time, with him pounding away inside you, that he finally noticed. 

“Hey, y/n.”  

He slowed, but didn’t stop.  

“Where have you gone? I feel like you’re not there.” 

You dragged your eyes back into focus, onto him. 

“Do you think you’ll ever like it?” 

He frowned, confused, and came to a stop, resting his weight on you a little. 

“Like what? What are you talking about?” 

“Oral.”  

He groaned and you knew, even though you couldn’t see his face as he rested his forehead on your clavicle, that he was rolling his eyes. 

“Do we have to talk about this again? I feel like this is all we ever talk about and I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“I want you to give me a reason! Tell me why you won’t do it!” 

He rolled away, slipping out of you, and sat up and you pushed yourself upright next to him. He had never really given you an answer, other than that he ‘just doesn’t like it’ and you thought this little pause might be him finally deciding to tell you. 

“Tell me why it matters so much!” he countered and your hope deflated. “I get you off, don’t I? It’s not like I’m selfish. Why do you need me to do it so badly?” 

“Because I like it! Because I do things for you! Because... Because it makes me feel bad that you don’t.” 

“Oh I make you feel bad? All this time I spend trying to make you feel good-” 

“I don’t! I don’t feel good! I don’t feel good because you make me feel like there must be something wrong with me! No one else has ever had a problem with it-” 

“Now who’s making who feel bad? If everyone else you’ve fucked likes it so much, why don’t you just go and ask them to do it?” 

“What?” 

“Well, if they all love doing it so much and you need it so fucking desperately, why not ask them?” 

“Are you serious right now?” 

His jaw dropped as if you’d just hit him. 

“Of course I’m not fucking serious! Are you joking? You’re my fucking girlfriend! As if I would let you do that! I don’t understand why you can’t just be happy with what we have.” 

He was standing and putting his feet back into his boxers and trousers. You didn’t want him to leave. Because you wanted him to stay and change his mind. You wanted him to suddenly turn around and say, actually, I was wrong, please allow me to go down on you for hours and hours... You knew he wouldn’t. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed and took your hand. 

“Do you love me?” 

At that moment, no, you truly didn’t. It took all your strength to look him in the eye and answer. 

“Yes, of course.” 

He kissed you and told you the same and then he told you to get some rest and sleep on it and that things would look better in the morning.  

You had had this argument enough times to know that it wouldn’t. Things would look the same in the morning. In actual fact, they looked worse.  

You still couldn’t get Taehyung’s words out of your mind, any of them. The idea of anyone worshipping you was faintly absurd, a rhetorical flourish you’re sure he didn’t mean literally, but he seemed so sincere and, well, they didn’t say he had a magical dick for nothing.  

You called Tara.  

“Ok, I need you to be really real with me and also to not ever tell anyone I asked you this.” 

“Oh my god, the intrigue... Go on.” 

“Just exactly how good is Taehyung in bed?” 

She cackled loudly down the phone and then sighed, suddenly wistful. 

“Still, by far, the best I have ever had. I still miss him.” 

“Ok, but I don’t know how good the other people you’ve slept with are. I need like, some objective measure-” 

“Why? Are you planning to sleep with him?” 

“No! God no! I just don’t believe that what people say about him can be true, so I’m … I don’t know... checking...” 

Her responding hum sounded unconvinced. 

“Well, he once made me come for like, two straight minutes. I thought I was going to die and I could barely walk the next day; every muscle in my body was sore.” 

“Is that... good?” 

“YES! I meant it when I said you shouldn’t turn him down if he ever offers. I have never had as many orgasms in one night as when I was with him. He just... He fucking loves it and he loves you when he’s fucking you. He kind of takes it almost weirdly seriously? But like, in a good way. I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. I may have been drunk at the bar that time, but I honestly could still cry about how much I miss fucking him.”  

“Jesus.” 

“Not even he can help me, y/n.”  

“Ok, well, thanks. I guess.” 

“Did that help? I seriously think you should fuck him; I promise I won’t even be jealous because it is truly something I think everyone should get to experience at least once.”  

“I am not sure that’s a normal thing to say about someone.” 

“Taehyung is not normal.”  

* * *  

Two days. It was two days before you snapped. You took a deep breath, pressed call, and held the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” 

“Do you want to eat me out?” 

You could hear choking at the other end and a muffled ‘hold on’. You held on. 

“Sorry, what the fuck did you just ask me?”  

“I said, do you want to eat me out?” 

“Is this a hypothetical question? Because you know I have already made the offer.”  

“So you do want to eat me out?” 

“Again, is this hypothetical or are you asking me over right now?” 

Another deep breath. 

“I’m asking you over right now.” 

“Give me your address.” 

You paced up and down your living room, anxious, impatient. The sheets on the bed were clean; you’d showered and then done it again for no real reason other than an irrational fear of him thinking you were dirty; you hesitated over whether or not to light candles – it felt like too much, too romantic but would also mean you could turn out the lights, keep it dark... You were just about to find the matches again when there was a knock at the door.  

“Hi.” 

“Hello.” 

His grin was wide as he stepped over the threshold but it did nothing to put you at ease.  

“Do you want a drink or something?” you asked as you made your way to the kitchen. 

“Whatever you want. I am at your service.” 

He bowed, thrusting an arm elaborately to the side, his head dipping low as he bent deeply from the hips.  

“Please don’t be weird. Don’t make this weird.” 

“What’s weird about it? Like I said, what’s a little oral between friends? Platonic pussy eating, that’s all it is.” 

“I said don’t be weird! Why do you have to put it like that?” 

“Well, what is it if not that? I assume you don’t suddenly want to date me.” 

“God, no-” 

He raised his eyebrows at you, questioning, demanding. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry.” 

He shrugged. 

“It’s alright. I know you still think we’re not friends, but, just so you know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” 

“Oh, wouldn’t you?” 

“No, I wouldn’t.” 

He was suddenly close to you, a little too close. He looked down at you, and you expected to look up and see that arrogant smirk, the quirked eyebrow that he thought was so sexy, but he’s just smiling, sweet, cute.  

“I’m glad you called, though. Glad you’ve finally seen the light and ditched Dickless-” 

“I haven’t. We’re still together.” 

His eyebrows shot up, his mouth a little ‘o’ of surprise. 

“You haven’t? And yet here I am... I thought you were a good girl.” 

“Shut up, Taehyung. Stop trying to flirt with me.”  

You moved away from him, towards the fridge, and got out a bottle of wine, more for something to do than anything else. You poured two glasses and held one out to him.  

“How do you expect me to go down on you if you won’t even let me flirt with you a little?” 

“You don’t have to flirt with me if I’ve already agreed to it. There’s no need.” 

“That’s what you think flirting is? Just a way to get into somebody’s bed? That is not what flirting is for – well, not the only thing.” 

He considered you carefully over his wine glass and you could feel yourself blushing all over; he kept his gaze steady, his face betraying nothing, and then he held his hand out to you. You didn’t take it but you moved closer to him, just close enough that he could reach out and grab you by the waist, pulling you up against him.  

“Just so we’re clear,” he began, his voice low, his eyes pointedly fixed on yours. “If we do this and you don’t break up with Dickless, I will consider it a failure.” 

You didn’t know what you felt. What would make this a success? What would make it a failure? Did you want it to be good? So good you ended your relationship? Or did you want it to be disappointing, maybe literally anticlimactic, so that you could stay with him and not feel like you were missing out? You had absolutely no idea. You didn’t even really know why you were doing it. Was it a good idea? What had possessed you? All you knew was that it had to be done. Now or never. For once and for all.  

He placed his wine glass on the counter and slipped his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers just lightly grazing your skin. Your stomach twisted and you squirmed out of his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to stop your heart racing.  

“What are you doing? Did you or did you not invite me over so I could go down on you?” 

“Well, yes, I did, but that doesn’t mean all of... All of that.” 

You heard him chuckle behind you and you turned slightly, just enough that you could see him run his hands through his hair and roll his eyes, the boxy grin back on his face.  

“Y’know, I’m starting to think that maybe you are the problem. At least a little bit.” 

When you didn’t move and didn’t respond, he sighed again, lightly exasperated. 

“Come here,” he commanded softly, holding his hands out to you. When you didn’t move, he walked towards you instead. He took your face in his hands and made you look at him. “Do you trust me?” 

When you didn’t answer, he shook your head lightly side to side.  

“I don’t mean like, trust me with your family secrets, trust me to take care of your pets while you’re on holiday. I mean... Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” 

You shook your head and he moved his face even closer.  

“Do you think I’m going to do something you don’t want?” 

You shook your head and he lightly pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Do you think I’m going to make you do something you don’t want?” 

You shook your head and he kissed your other cheek. 

“So, do you trust me?” 

You nodded, dumb with anticipation and tension, shocked at the way your body was responding to this, just this: he hadn’t even kissed you on the mouth but you were trembling, warm, wet.  

“Ok, then,” he whispered and he moved his hands down your body, then back up on the inside of your clothes. His hands were cold and you shivered against him, closing your eyes. 

“Look at me.”  

Your eyes flicked back to him and he kissed your lips, just barely, still looking you in the eye, and a whimper caught in your throat. He closed his eyes and pulled you closer, his lips pressing against yours now. He removed a hand from your waist and gently pressed his thumb against your chin, opening your mouth to allow his tongue inside. His kiss was warm and sweet with wine; his tongue was soft against yours, slow as he licked into your mouth and retreated. You chased after his mouth when his lips left yours and you could feel him smile as he let you close the distance and kiss him again. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip and sucked it gently, a barely perceptible pressure that made your knees tremble. 

You could feel all the heat rushing through your blood, flowering on the surface of your skin in warm blooms as you let yourself relax. All the tension you were holding melted away, evaporating on your skin, leaving you soft and pliant. A deep, dark want blossomed in you, its petals unfurling in your core, arousal first like dew drops, then like a sudden summer downpour buffeting the pale heads of roses. You had thought this would be quick, frantic with need, with guilt, with anxiety, but all of that was held at bay by the gentle way that Taehyung ran his tongue over yours, ran his hands over your body, held you just close enough that you could feel him against you but not so close you felt trapped.  

He moved from your mouth and placed kisses on your temple, your ear, your jaw. As he sucked kisses down your neck, you were so distracted that you didn’t notice him unclasp your bra, only aware when he rubbed his thumbs over your nipples, already hard. He moaned against your skin, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he pulled your hips against his. You gasped, both at the bite, and at the feeling of him, stiffening, growing against you. He ran his tongue over the indentations in your neck and you shivered.  

“Can I take your clothes off?”  

His voice was raspy and low in your ear as he tugged at the bottom of your shirt. You sighed a yes and looked into his eyes as his fingers worked on the buttons of your blouse. His eyes were soft, liquid, the light glinting off them in gold and honey. He took his time, each button slow, his eyes never leaving yours. He nudged your nose with his, licked your bottom lip, sank his teeth into it, sucked it into his mouth.  

He pushed your shirt off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then he pulled the straps of your bra down and it fell, too. He finally dropped his gaze and took in the sight of your naked torso, nipples taut, goosebumps spreading over the swell of your breasts as he gently took them in his hands, massaging, squeezing your nipples between his fingers. He hummed quietly.  

“Shall we go to the bedroom now?” 

You couldn’t speak, only nodded, and walked backwards until your legs hit your bed, then you let him lay you down. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked again, holding the edge of your skirt. Again, you nodded and he pulled gently, the fabric almost burning against your legs as it dragged. He kissed your feet and you squirmed. 

“Ticklish?” He grinned and licked the sole of your left foot from heel to toe with the tip of his tongue as you squealed.  

“Yes, I am!” you gasped. He chuckled and relented, trailing soft, wet kisses up your legs. You held your breath as he licked at your inner thighs, anticipating him at your core.  

But he wasn’t there. He slipped his hands underneath at the hips and lifted the fabric so he could lick the crease of your leg and then pulled it down so he could kiss across the waistband from hip bone to hip bone, but he didn’t touch you. Your heart was racing in your chest now; what was he waiting for?  

He hummed against your skin and moved above you, his hands on either side of your chest. He looked at you, almost quizzical for a second, and then that look faded into a smile that – had it been anyone else – you might’ve called adoring. He lowered his face to yours and kissed you. 

“Relax, y/n. I can feel your heart beating from here.”  

Resting his full weight on one hand, he placed the other between your breasts, atop your sternum, your heart pushing back, thumping against your ribs.  

“But aren’t you gonna...?”  

He kissed you again, forceful this time, leaving you breathless as he pulled away. 

“Yes, I am. But we’re doing it my way, ok? Just relax; I’m going to take good care of you.” 

He shuffled downwards, lips everywhere on his path down your neck, across your chest. You whined when he took your nipple in his mouth, your back arching into him as he sealed his teeth around it, his tongue lapping at your tightened bud. 

Everything was so slow. You felt like a frog in a pan; you hadn’t really noticed it building, this huge, hungry desire, but now you were drowning in it, burning, melting. It enveloped you, held you, suspended, cushioned in its warmth but needled by its intensity. It sent its buds out from your centre to your extremities, your fingers and toes tingling, your body trembling, your breath catching in your throat. Flowers of want blooming all over you, petals falling from Taehyung’s lips, soft and sweet and warm.  

You let out a long, shaky whine when he finally locked his fingers around your underwear and tugged them down, his hands sliding against your legs as he pulled them all the way off.  

“Taehyung,” you whispered as he pushed your legs apart, crawling back towards you.  

“Yes?” 

You didn’t know what to say. You knew there was something, something inside you that you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t find the words. Everything was obscured by the veil of your greed, your craven yearning for him. You wanted his mouth on you so badly, wanted to be wanted. You remembered what he said about worship and a sudden panic sliced through you with painful clarity. 

“I-… What if it is me? What if there’s something wrong with me?”  

He pressed a soft kiss against your inner thigh and then loomed over you.  

“It’s not you, I promise.”  

He rested his forehead against yours, your noses pressed together, his hand on your cheek. 

“You’re perfect. Perfect, you hear me? If you’ve changed your mind about this, that’s ok-” 

“No, god no,” you answered quickly, immediately, absolutely sure that you wanted this, your nails digging into his arms. “Please...” 

He kissed you, slow, even slower than before, and he lowered his body down on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. It’s only then that you realised he was still fully dressed. And you were completely naked beneath him, so exposed and so vulnerable. You pushed him back, a light palm against his chest, and he looked at you, frowning. 

“What’s wrong?”  

You looked at his eyes, somehow both shining and dark at the same time; his pouty mouth just barely open; his hips pressing into yours; his erection hot and hard against you, almost exactly where it needed to be, so you could just tip your hips and rub yourself on him, feel the friction you were desperate for. He looked at you so openly and it wasn’t like you expected it to be at all. None of it was. You thought he would be arrogant, cocksure, swaggering; you thought he would be rough, wild, frenetic; you thought it was all bluster and machismo, that he’d keep calling you ‘baby’ and asking how you liked it and trying to make you scream. You hadn’t even really believed that he would get you there. Whether due to you or to him, you had thought it probably wouldn’t happen. Your boyfriend had made you too self-conscious; Taehyung wouldn’t put the effort in or wouldn’t know what to do.  

But it wasn’t like that at all. He looked at you questioningly, searchingly, like he actually cared. And he had moved so slowly, so patiently; he was rock-hard against you, but hadn’t even mentioned it. He hadn’t even taken his clothes off. This was the first time he’d even really pressed his hips against you so you could feel him. You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, tried to feel yourself in your body. You could feel the ghost of his breath over your face, his hand curled around your shoulder, fingers dancing lightly over your skin. There was the weight of his body, the warmth of it. You wanted to feel his skin in yours. 

“Take your clothes off,” you whispered, opening your eyes to look at him.  

He grinned and sat back on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out to unzip his trousers but he batted your hand away. He unzipped them himself and stood to step out of them.  

“Better?” he asked, already making his way back to you, but shook your head. 

“No. Everything.”  

His eyebrows raised just a hair and he paused, considering you. 

“You know this is not about me, right?” 

“I know. I just want to see you.”  

He nodded slowly and hooked his thumbs into boxers, sliding them down and stepping out. His dick was wet with pre-cum and you couldn’t believe he could be so hard when you hadn’t even touched him, when he had barely touched you. He knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed your ankles, slowly pulling you down, down, down, until you were just barely still lying on it, your feet touching the floor until he spread your thighs to the side, as wide as they could go.  

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked, his words muffled as he kissed your thigh. 

“Yes, fuck. Yes, Taehyung. Please.”  

He was still slow. Slow as he pressed kisses against your lips, on your mound, back out to the crease of your hip, your thighs. You whined when he ran his fingers through your folds, hearing the slick of your arousal as he dragged up to your clit and down again, as he opened you up. He pressed a kiss to your clit and you jumped, swallowing hard, trying to catch your breath as he opened his lips and sucked. He laved over your clit with the soft, flat pad of his tongue and you sighed, having forgotten this feeling. 

“Talk to me,” he said softly, sprinkling kisses across your legs, your mound, your lips. “Tell me what works for you, what doesn’t.”  

But you couldn’t speak. You moaned and mewled and whimpered, but no words would come. You were swept away on a wave of pleasure, not in the room anymore, but somewhere else, somewhere nothing else existed – just you and Taehyung and this bed. You wanted to tell him yes, like that, more, yes, please, please, please, but the air was tight in your lungs, stuck in your throat, whipped away as it left your mouth in a strangled whine. 

He moaned loudly as he licked over your slit, drinking you in.  

“Y/n.” 

His breath was warm, brushing against your flushed skin. 

“You taste so good, y/n. I fucking knew you would.”  

He moved his mouth away again, biting down on the soft flesh of your inner thigh as he slipped first one and then two fingers into your wet heat. You whined, greedy, needy, grinding your hips, trying to feel some friction back on your clit. Taehyung hummed against your skin and you felt his lips stretch into a smile.  

“Don’t hold back, y/n. I love the way you sound.”  

And you didn’t. You let yourself go, let yourself fall into it, abandoned yourself to him. With his fingers still inside you and his mouth back, sealed against your clit, his tongue alternately flicking hard circles around it, then licking softly over it, you felt your body shuddering to its climax. You expected him to stop as your walls clenched hard on his fingers, to stop when your legs clamped over his ears, to stop when you writhed beneath him, fully overwhelmed as wave after wave swamped you with pleasure.  

But he didn’t. He thrummed his fingers hard against your front wall, not letting you squeeze them out. He kept his mouth on you, your slick and his spit mixing as you came, gushing around him. When you finally cried out, cursing him, calling his name, he slowed, but he still didn’t stop, and you felt your whole body convulse under him. With a flash of clarity, you remembered what Tara had said, and you couldn’t believe it, knew you couldn’t take it, knew this would kill you if it went on any longer.  

But it did. And you didn’t die. You felt yourself floating, your limbs weightless, your head dizzy as you climbed to your second peak, your, soft, weak body tightening, pulling in all directions at once, your skin burning, your heart like a hummingbird’s, blood roaring in your ears like the waves of the ocean. Your hands twisted in the bedsheets as you came, the noises you were making nothing short of animal.  

When you flopped, spent, melting into the mattress, you pushed your fingers through Taehyung’s hair and tugged, your body screaming with over-stimulation, your bed and thighs soaked. You could hardly see; nothing but flashing lights in front of you, stars shining and twinkling on your ceiling, swirling, disappearing and reappearing like a kaleidoscope.  

“Taehyung,” you panted, weak and quiet. “Stop.” 

He was immediately still, those wide, open eyes looking up at you. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers from you and you fell, slithering like a slinky from the bed and into his arms. He held you tight, pushed your hair from your face and kissed your forehead. 

“You ok?” 

You looked up at him, blinking hard to stop your vision swimming. He was shiny and sticky all around his mouth, all over his chin. Those deep, autumn eyes all dark now, swirling black, glazed and penetrating. You summoned what strength you could and crashed your lips against him. You could taste yourself on him and you knew he was right. You weren’t the problem. It wasn’t you. And it certainly wasn’t this.  

“Fuck me, please,” you asked, taking his face between your palms. “Please, Taehyung.”  

He started shaking his head, his lip bitten between his teeth. 

“That’s not what- you don’t have to- we don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to. I want to. Please.” 

You twisted in his lap so you were straddling him, his cock leaking against you between your bodies.  

“If you want to,” you added. “I... Only if you want to.” 

He laughed, deep-throated and rich – you could feel it rumble in his chest.  

“Oh I absolutely want to but this is... Are you sure you want to? I mean... You are still with Dickless and this-” 

“Don’t fucking talk about him. I don’t want to think about him. Please, Taehyung.” You pressed another kiss against his lips, insistent, urgent. “I want you. I just want you.”  

He moaned against your mouth, his arms encircling your waist, his tongue encroaching. Then he rolled and lay you down, the carpet surprisingly soft against your skin.  

“I just,” he said, his mouth wandering all over you, slowly making his way down. “I just want one more taste. Please.”  

He looked at you, waiting. He licked his lips and held the bottom one tight in his teeth. You could see him swallow hard, his breathing deep and heavy. You nodded and dropped your head back, keening as he licked through your folds, humming against your clit, smacking his lips as he raised himself back on his hands and knees.  

“I told you you were fucking perfect.”  

You moved backwards, out from underneath his arms and gave yourself carpet burn on your knees as you shuffled to the bedside table, rifling for the box of condoms you kept there. You grabbed the whole thing, crawled back to Taehyung and emptied it onto the floor. He laughed again. 

“Sweetheart, even for me, that is truly ambitious.” 

“Shut up.” 

You fell back, your chest still heaving, your limbs still trembling, as he tore one open and rolled it down his length. He paused, his dick in his hand, held at your waiting entrance and he looked at you. 

“For god’s sake, Taehyung, don’t ask me if I’m sure. Please just please just fuckin- ahh...” 

He didn’t wait for you to finish. He plunged into your soft, wet cunt and moaned. 

“Fuck. Please tell me that feels good.” 

“It feels fucking incredible.”  

He grabbed at the backs of your thighs and lifted, pushing them up and out, keeping hold of them as he began to move. Smooth and fluid, his hips rolled. Your cunt, wet and soft and sweet, held him tight, moulded to his cock, your walls fluttering around him. Heat radiated from your centre, a fire burning there, flames licking up your body. You were so sensitive, close again almost immediately, whimpering with every thrust.  

You grabbed at him, pulling him down, your hand around his neck to bring him closer and closer ’til you could kiss him. Your tongues tangled and the adjusted angle made you moan straight into his mouth. You could still taste the wine, still taste yourself on him and with a shock of remembrance, you whined. This was what you loved; this was what you had been missing. The proof of the pudding: your arousal all over his face made you hot with a sudden rush. Your boyfriend could never be enough. Because it wasn’t just about you and your desire; it was about his, too. And he didn’t have it, not like this. Not like Taehyung. The strangled moans and gutteral groans escaping his throat, the rumble in his chest as he breathed ragged and uneven made you shaky with feeling. Feeling wanted in your entirety. Wanted in your animal mess. Wanted from head to toe. Inside and out. No holds barred. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Fuck, y/n, yeah? Tell me- tell me...”  

He kissed your lips and your cheek, his hand skirting your body and grabbing at your thigh, pushing further, holding tighter, his thrusts faster now, harder, his pelvis tantalisingly close to your clit. You put a hand down between you, circling slowly, your third orgasm bubbling through your veins.  

“You feel so good,” you breathed. “Fuck, so, so-… ah... shit.”  

Already there, your toes curling, Taehyung hissing, cursing as you squeezed him tight inside you, pleasure blazed through you like a forest fire, every inch of you alight and burning, sparking, fireworks bursting all over you, inside you, filling your vision with dizzying colour. Taehyung was gasping, stuttering, his fingers digging into you, his teeth biting hard. 

“Come, Taehyung,” you whispered to him, your voice wobbling, shaking like the rest of you.  

“I w-wanna-” he stammered. “I wa- wan-” 

“No, just come. For me.” 

You brought your mouth to his, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth, sucking gently. 

“Oh, fuck.”  

He juddered, thrusting hard as he let himself go, gave himself to you, gave in. He let himself flop against you for a moment, just a moment, and then he pushed himself up on his hands, looking down at where you bodies met, still together. He rolled his hips one last time and you mewled, over-sensitive, overwraught. He grinned and pulled back, turning away from you as he took off and disposed of the condom.  

He crawled back to you and pulled you onto your side so you were facing each other. He knocked a leg between yours and traced the curve of your body; you shivered, even his hands feeling like fire against you. He kissed you, once, and then again, and then a third time.  

“You’re perfect,” he said, barely moving his mouth far enough from yours to speak, his words mumbled, muffled. “You’re fucking perfect. You understand?”  

You couldn’t look him in the eye, suddenly self-conscious, suddenly so embarrassed at what you had done. Embarrassed that you had needed this, needed him to tell you that, needed him to show you that you could be wanted how you wanted to be wanted, desired in the way you wanted, fucked like you wanted. You felt small and silly and stupid. That you had cheated on your boyfriend with the most promiscuous man on the planet just because you felt insecure. You shivered, but it wasn’t pleasure this time. You were suddenly cold and tired. Exhausted. Choked with emotions you didn’t want to admit.  

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” he said, softly, his lips against your hair now. “You ok?”  

“I don’t know.” 

Your voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, hardly audible beneath the thumping of your heart. 

“Talk to me...” 

“I feel so stupid.” 

“Why?”  

You had to think it through, carefully, how to say it, how to express it. 

“Because... I needed this. I didn’t know that I-… I-” 

You crumbled, dissolved into tears, embarrassing you further. You wanted to be swallowed whole, to sink into the ground, to dessicate and turn to dust. You couldn’t speak, shame dousing you, drowning you, your hitching, heaving breath barely enough. He let you cry and you were grateful for his patience... again. 

“You w-want me,” you said eventually, your voice thick, choked.  

“Yeah.” 

“You want me and h-he doesn’t. And I- I want to be w-wanted. I'm so... Am I undesirable?” 

“Categorically, demonstrably, absolutely not.” 

“Then why doesn’t he want me?” 

Taehyung held you tighter, pulled you closer, kissed the top of your head and stroked your back.  

“This is why I’ve been telling you to leave him, love. You shouldn’t feel like this. I’m sure he does want you, but if he can’t want you in the way that you want, in a way that makes you feel good, feel desirable, and cherished, and loved, then he shouldn’t have you.”  

He pulled back, holding your face to his, wiping your tears with his thumbs.  

“I want you. Believe me, I want you. I’ve just had you and I want you all over again. You should believe that; you deserve that. Don’t let him break you down. Don’t let him do this to you.”  

Your bottom lip wobbled as your eyes filled with tears again and he placed his thumb over it and his lips over that. He swiped his thumb across your mouth and kissed you as slowly as he had the very first time, his lips so soft, his mouth so sweet.  

“If you don’t believe me,” he said, his lips just ghosting over yours, his breath washing over your face. “I will happily show you again and again and again just how desirable you are. Just how perfect you are. It’s not hyperbole; you’re fucking perfect to me. I’ll show you.”  

And he did. 

Not just that night or the one after that or the one after that. He showed you repeatedly again and again until you started to believe it. Until you realised that you didn’t need him to show you anymore, just wanted him to. Just wanted him.  

You broke up with your boyfriend two weeks later. It was horrible and he was surprisingly vicious and you were surprisingly upset. But you knew you were right to do it and wished you had just done it earlier.  

y/n: I broke up with him. 

Taehyung: FINALLY 

Taehyung: Guess this means you don’t need me anymore... 

y/n: I didn’t say that. 

y/n: Come over? 

Taehyung: On my way 

[itsonlydana]

"passenger princess" | chapter seven

the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana

❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader

❱ wordcount: 3,6k

❱ summary: phone-call interruptions on a lazy sunday morning / defining the word "date"

❱ warnings: none

❱ an: we're halfway through and I'm more in love with this man every word I write

general m.list + series m.list

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3

CHAPTER SEVEN: QUESTIONS

You awoke to a low, deep-throated groan right next to your ear; the sound pulling your hazy, sleep-infused mind into reality faster than any alarm could've.

Multiple sensations surged through your body in a matter of seconds, from the heavy arm curled around your middle, a large hand broadened over your stomach, the leisure exhales of breath hitting your neck, and of course, the delicious, if not close to unbearable, heat of another body pressed against your back.

The memory of the conversation in the kitchen, sharing doubts and fears over chocolate cake, was all too clear, as was the movie which had turned out to be much more interesting and enjoyable, when you had a hand to cling onto.

Halfway through the second movie, you had felt the pull of exhaustion that came from a day out swimming, in your bones, and after a while, it had become impossible to fight the – becoming gradually harder and the moments in-between shorter – heaviness of your eyelids fluttering close.

You remembered falling asleep to the giggles of Legolas, the hushed whispers of Aragorn, and the hypnotic and serene rising and falling of Thranduil's chest that became your pillow as you gave up concentrating on the movie and instead focused on his hand in the back of your head, stroking through your hair until your consciousness slipped away.

Before your mind railed off into an overload of thoughts prompted by this, another groan followed the last one, this one blending into a deep inhalation of air.

The muscles of the arm tensed up as you heard a yawn indicating that Thranduil, because this was without a doubt Thranduil, was waking up as well.

Regulating your breath, eyes still closed in an effort to stay in this cozy headspace a little while longer, you listened to the rustling of the blanket, to the tiniest movements of his body and just his breathing, luxuriating in this private moment.

Was there any other sound more comforting than that?

"Gods," his voice rumbled, yes, very much Thranduil, and his hand weighted down on your stomach.

As soon as he noticed, and you felt it in his chest heaving with another breath and his legs moving under the blanket that covered you both, Thranduil slowly pulled the hand out of your shirt.

The feeling of its weight and the size stayed prickling under your skin, even as he shifted, yawning and groaning quietly, to roll his shoulders.

He pushed himself up on one elbow, using his free hand to trail his fingers over your temple, pointer and middle finger drawing circles that moved all across the side of your face that wasn't nestled into the cushion in a feather-like lightness that, when he reached the bow of your lips, tickled just enough for your mouth to twitch into a smile.

"Good Morning," Thranduil murmured drowsely, sleep still coating his words and tongue.

You answered in humm, signaling – kind of– verbally you were awake, before turning to your other side, stretching your legs along his.

"Morning," your voice was still raspy as well, but you couldn't be bothered to stand up for a glass of water.

Thranduil in the morning was truly an unfair sight, because how could this man have woken up not a minute ago and his eyes were already sparkling like a cool lake in the mountains and in them a look of pure adoration as they took you in.

Sunlight fell through the windows, indicating it must've been a while since the day started and you couldn't have cared less except that the warmth in those rays shimmered in the air around you, resting their golden touch on Thranduil's hair and he looked– ethereal.

Unreal, almost.

But, to the enjoyment of your heart and singing soul, this was indeed real and Thranduil was here on this sofa, loose strands of hair falling on you as he continued the exploration of your in-awe face.

"You know," he started and lost himself for a second, as his fingers brushed your lips again and you swallowed hard, "I don't remember the last time I slept through the whole night." Chuckling and looking around, he added: "And on this sofa as well."

"Wow, and here I thought you would complain about your back," the smile that came from the soft touches of his fingers bled into your teasing, the corners of his mouth tipping upward at the comment as well.

"Mhm, what's that? Swore I heard you say something about my age but that couldn't be, right?" Thranduil's finger followed the bridge of your nose, flicking the tip in one tap as he raised one eyebrow, "You wouldn't dare on a morning this beautiful and barely after waking up."

"What if I did?"

"Then you are awfully brave for a woman at my mercy."

"Your mercy?" you giggled, fully aware you were going nowhere while his large frame towered over you, "First your back, then this– didn't know you're already that senile."

"Oh, now–" Thranduil playfully sneered, leaning over in such a quick motion that his hair fell on you like a curtain, and his other hand landed on the other side of your face, basically trapping you right where he wanted you, "I assure you my mind is still very much sharp and even if we just woke up, I'll not hesitate to throw you into the pool."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's a promise."

Chocking on your breath, you opened your mouth in another witty reply, though nothing came to mind.

Thranduil sensed that this time you wouldn't bite back and the grin on his face was satisfied, shifting into smugness: "I'll let this pass once because I admittedly am in no rush to get up," the long line of his body fitted perfectly against yours, the weight a comfortable, if not exhilarating, reminder how much taller he was and his knee nudged yours as he slowly lowered himself more, "But know that I've gathered quite a few tricks in my age that go further than that."

"Yeah?"

Unfortunately and it filled you with deep regret, it got no closer than his eyes brushing over your lips, another chance of a kiss passed right in front of your eyes as Thranduil's phone started ringing on the coffee table, breaking the spell of this lazy morning before it could progress further.

With an apologetic look, Thranduil sat up on his folded legs, taking the blanket with him so it hung over his shoulders in a long, fluffy wine-red coat and exposed you to the chilly air.

"Oropherion," he answered the phone, the sleep disappearing almost immediately from his voice to be replaced by an authoritarian and composed tone that bordered on sharp and sent tingles through your stomach while you finally sat up as well.

Thranduil held the phone in one hand, the other gently squeezed your naked ankle.

It was soothing, to simply let him caress your skin as he listened to the person on the other end of the line, his eyes focused on where his fingers moved absentmindedly, and not care that this morning got interrupted by his work.

"Alright, Feren, thank you for calling me. No, of course–" He cast you an apologetic look, "I'll be on my way soon. Prepare a statement for PR ASAP; tell them I want that published before I'm in the office or– yes, that. No, tell Thorin to fuck off and do what I say, that thickheaded man better has his arse up and going right now."

You pressed a hand to your mouth to stifle the giggles that bubbled up your flipping stomach, there was something about Thranduil cursing the laziness of his partner of the firm while he was still in the clothes of yesterday, hair –while looking beautifully soft– in disarray and by now you knew he wouldn't leave the house before having his cup of coffee and changing at least twice.

He raised one eyebrow at your antics though it only fueled the giggles further.

This cracked a smile on his face, one he gave into with an annoyed roll of his eyes. Thranduils fingers curled around the phone. "Have the papers on my table in five, the statement out in ten and.. Feren? If Thorin isn't there and on my line in fifteen minutes–"

No more words were needed, Thranduil simply hung up and turned his gaze back onto you.

"You, Miss, are glad that I do not have the time," he said slowly.

You, being who you are, stuck out your tongue at him. "Can't help a girl for wanting a calm Sunday. It's your fault that your firm needs you to hold their hand."

All of a sudden, he tugged sharply on your leg and had you once again below him. He smirked at your surprised yelp. "Tell me," Thranduil started lowly, "what sets you apart from them?"

And while you were catching your breath, staring into his bright eyes, he swiftly stood up and left you there, gaping at him as he strolled through the living room.

"Come on, I'll drop you off on my way."

"Oh, the nerve of this goddamn man!"

How you managed to get ready was unfathomable yet somehow you were in Thranduil's car before Legolas and Aragorn had even woken up, once again dressed in one of his sweaters and a pair of shorts, that were cinched by an elastic hair tie.

The hair tie was his as well. It felt comically domestic as you had helped him prepare a coffee to go, standing next to each other in the kitchen, and he had leaned down, long and agile – cold – fingers tying the shorts up in no hurry.

Falling into the familiar seat in clothes that smelled like him and having the sun beat through the window as he steered the car out of the driveway fueled you enough for the day to make up for the fact he hadn't kissed you again.

Initially, the only sounds were the whir of the engine and Thranduil's tranquil, rhythmic breathing.

Then, he tapped on the dimmed display, and orchestral music filled the air from the speakers:

The Carnival of the Animals, the piece of the swan.

Immediately you turned your head to him. "Oh, I love this piece!"

Thranduil smiled and from your position, you saw the dimple in his cheek.

"I feel the same way," he remarked, his smile tinged with nostalgia. "We used to attend the Philharmonic in town every week. My parents enjoyed these outings, but I never quite connected with the other children over discussions of politics and history. Instead, I'd settle into the seat by the balcony railing, immersing myself in the music as if it were the very air I needed to survive," he told you.

You listened to his voice, probably your favorite sound in the world above the deep cello, both lapping over you in quiet waves and you snuggled into the sweater.

There was nothing he could say that wouldn't be interesting to you, not in that voice of his.

No matter if he lectured you and Legolas on something he heard you talking about, or if he commented on current political situations on weekend breakfasts together, scoffing over something written in the papers.

He could chat about his day, throwing around names of people you didn't know and numbers you didn't understand but you would be listening no matter what.

And at that moment in the car, with his voice dripping like honey and talking with the same grace as the poetry of the classics he was praying, you fell even harder for him.

"I used to have such a deep love for classical music that I pleaded with my father to buy me an instrument, something beyond the recorder we played at school. I'll never forget the moment I unwrapped one of my Christmas presents and found myself holding a violin in my hands; it was one of the most cherished gifts my parents ever gave me." Thranduil glanced at you, his grin widening.

"Now, take a guess at which piece I dedicated a year to studying." He didn't wait for a response, nor did he need to. "I practiced diligently every day until my fingers ached and my neck grew stiff, but every ounce of effort was worth it. After a year of dedication, I had the opportunity to perform at the Philharmonic and showcase 'The Swan' in front of my loved ones."

The image painted itself in your mind; a young Thranduil, in one of his fine suits, his blond hair already long enough to flow down his back like water, on stage playing The Swan while putting the beauty and elegance of the animal to shame.

He would stand straight, engaging as always, his long fingers on the strings of the violin and his eyes resting only on the instrument in his hands.

You had seen often enough with what fondness and gentleness he had examined a good book, to imagine how he would examine this violin, sanctified by him, like his dearest object on earth came easy.

"Do you still play?" you asked, not entirely innocently.

Thranduil hummed softly and shook his head, causing a hint of disappointment to spread through you. "Not anymore, not for a long time. I don't think I'll really start again, either. I'd rather go to the philharmonic, I can get much more involved with the music there."

"I understand that. It must sound fantastic live, all these instruments in their full sound."

With a surprised and curious look, Thranduil turned back to you. "Have you never been to a concert before?"

You screwed up your face, eyebrows together and lips curled. "Does the musical from my ninth-grade class count, where half were bad recorders and the other half were even worse singers? If not, I'll have to say no. Never to a concert that played classical music."

It was true what you said, except for that one –disastrous, it must be said– musical you had never been lucky enough to hear classical music the way it was meant to be heard.

So far, your headphones have always had to suffice.

Thranduil clicked his tongue against his teeth, and you wanted to tease him for this visibly privileged outrage when he gifted you a cheeky grin. "Your education in that aspect has been criminally neglected."

"Want to give me a lesson?" you asked before you could stop yourself.

Thranduil, taken aback, swallowed, then caught himself. "Sure," his voice sounded horse, "–what do you want to learn?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" he repeated and you saw the shift back into his usual self, the one that adapted quickly to you taking him by surprise, "That sure is a lot."

You giggled, "Oh, afraid you're not up for it?"

Thranduil's hands curled around the wheel as if the seat he was sitting on wasn't bracing him enough and he needed to hold on to something.

You pushed your hands under your own thighs as well and felt giddy as your nails dug into his sweater.

"You're too sassy for your own good," he breathed out a laugh and threw you a look through the mirror that contradicted the seriousness of that statement.

"In three months, the Carnival of the Animals will be performing right here, at the Philharmonic Hall in the city," Thranduil said. "If you allow me, I would like to take you there."

"Thranduil–," you began, straightening up in the seat, but with a shake of his head, he interrupted you.

"No, I know what you want to say and I want to invite you, love," he said gently yet firmly.

You frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That is to say that I could see your pretty head immediately worrying about the tickets. You have this offended and defensive look, like when Legolas once asked you to take a cab or when I offered to take you out to dinner with Legolas and me–I realize how hard it can be as a college student not to think about the money, believe me, Legolas refuses my help more than often."

You gnawed on your bottom lip, immediately throwing his words around in your mind.

"However, I'm not asking you to pay for it." Thranduil turned his head to you for a moment at a red light. His blue eyes shone bright and radiant like the clear sunny skies.

"I want to ask you out, take you out, or whatever they call a date these days."

A Date.

Your eyes continued to linger on Thranduil, even though he'd turned his attention back to the road. You couldn't break away from him.

All at once you were aware of how much bigger than the question of cost this conversation was. It was bigger than this car, pressing against the doors and windows, stretching apart like a bubble gum bubble you were just waiting to burst. It was too big for every word that came into your head, and after chewing on them for far too long, the very thing you were trying to prevent flew out.

"Netflix and chill."

"Excuse me?" The horrified look on Thranduil's face was indescribable, a mixture of pure shock and incredulity at what you had said.

You stammered, a little unsure if you really wanted to explain to him what you meant: "Well, nowadays, you don't really date anymore. So not like in the old days with dates to the movies or ice cream or going for a walk. Oh god, um you just meet to watch movies at someone's house, but you don't actually watch movies?"

"I understand the basic principle," You turned onto a bigger street at the most appropriate moment, you could see the slightest hint of blush at the tips of Thranduil's ears.

You took a deep breath and pressed a button to lower the window a little. As soon as the breeze played with your hair, you felt your body relax. "Good.. that's good. Jeez, I don't know if I would have wanted to go into more detail." A short laugh burst out of you while your head was still spinning around his words.

He never even kissed you but such a step as an official date had never come up as well and you somehow didn't believe that would be what Thranduil wanted.

He could have so much, probably even with just a flick of his fingers or a blink of his wonderful curved eyelashes.

Not that you would tell him that. This would probably be one of your worries that would eventually be slurred by drunken tongues on nights when you could let all your walls down and find home in the arms of your best friends.

"Would you allow me then?" asked Thranduil as he guided his car off the highway, and the light of sky-high glass towers reflected on his curious face.

"What?" you couldn't help but tease him "Netflix & Chill? Quite a bold question Mr. Oropherion, don't you think?" Oh how easy it was to fall back into this game with him, the back and forth.

Thranduil extended his hand to your thigh, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins.

After this morning, your body hummed delightfully at being physically close to him again.

"Well, I have to admit to being more of a fan of the classic courting, but if the lady wants to play by her rules, I'll throw away the tickets to the theater and we can pretend to watch a movie," he said, his voice low and in the same teasing tone.

You almost choked on your next breath, so suddenly your heart stopped, only to continue beating twice as fast in the next moment.

You sought his gaze, and it was infuriating that he kept looking down the road. "You already have tickets?"

Thranduil's hand on your leg didn't stay still, his thumb began to stroke small circles over your skin.

"Of course," he said without really responding. An annoying, self-satisfied grin pulled at his lips, even if he tried to suppress it.

Your voice was breathless as you whispered, "And you would really go with me? To the Philharmonic for a real live concert?"

Thranduil gave a theatrical enough sigh to be able to stand on the stage himself. "Now that you ask, I had tickets for the night when they just set up speakers and run everything through Bluetooth, but if you really want to, we can go listen to the Carnival of the Animals live."

Awkward with your words, which you lacked so often because of him, you simply grabbed his hand and beamed at him.

Thranduil turned his gaze from the red light in front of you and smiled at you. His hand turned, intertwining his long manicured fingers with yours.

"I'll take that as a yes? You'll allow me to take you out on a real date and you won't worry your pretty head about anything, but let me take care of everything?" he picked up, looking at you insistently enough that all your insecurities blurred within the cerulean sea of his eyes.

Instead, you leaned back in your seat, grinning, floating on a cloud of Thranduil's scent, the warmth of his hand in yours.

"But only because you begged me."

taglist [still open]: @mushroomemeralds, @mssuguru, @solartoge, @12134z03, @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @lady-of-imladris , @finallyforgotten , @123forgottherest @tomhockstetter7-111 @marshymallo @emily-roberts @howlerwolfmax @tigereyesf

[captainlunaxmen]

Be My Queen

Chapter 6

Eddie Munson x reader x Steve Harrington

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Chapter summary: someone's back

Chapter warnings: none.

The sun lingering through the hospital's windows wakes me up, luckily no unbearable nightmares, not that I remember at least... still luckily.

I slowly open my eyes, getting used to the light and I notice someone talking, or better reading something. Once I focus a little more I recognise Dustin's voice.

" 'this thing all things devours: birds, beasts, trees, flowers; gnats iron, bites steel; grinds hard stones to meal; slays Kings, ruins towns, and high mountain down. What am I?' "

Before he can go on reading I cut him off.

"Time!" I say sitting up slowly.

"Y/n!" He exclaims excited.

"Hey, boy genius. How is it going?"

"It's great. Do you feel better? Steve told me you were still in pain yesterday" he checks.

"Oh yes. Actually, it's more stingy than painful, which is good improvement" I smile at him to reassure him "where are the others?"

"Interviewed by the police..?" He mumbles.

"What for?"

"Well... for Eddie's innocence, your accident... stuff like that" he explains "they already talked to me so... I offered to be here for when you woke up" he sends me a sweet smile.

"I hope everyone realises Eddie is innocent" I chuckle "I mean... take one look at that guy and you realise he couldn't hurt a fly"

"I know right!" He laughs.

"Is that my copy of the Hobbit?" I ask looking down at the book in his hands.

"Yeah, Robin and Nancy brought it here when they arrive to drop me off and take Steve. I didn't wake you, did I?" He suddenly looks guilty and is about to apologise.

"No, no, Dustin, I think you helped getting me out of a nightmare" I reassure him.

He looks a little relieved, but soon his expression turns into a concerning one.

"I'm really sorry, Y/n" He softly says.

"Can we please invoce a council with everyone so I can make it clear that it was no one's fault?" I chuckle "you have nothing to be sorry for, just like Max and just like El. And just like everbody else."

"But..."

"Hush. Nope. I don't wanna hear it. No one's fault" I lift my hand up to stop him "repeat after me: it was no one's fault"

He stays silent, letting out a small chuckle and shaking his head.

"C'mon, Dusty, repeat after me. It was no one's fault"

"It was no one's fault" he says it, way too quietly.

"What? What did you say?" I pretend not to have heard him.

"It was no one's fault" he says a little louder.

"That's right, also next time something like this happens-"

"Hey! No! It won't happen again! And even if it does I don't think any of us will let you be the bait again" he cuts me off, with a stern look.

"Alright, alright... I was just saying-" I try to say.

"Nope"

"But-"

"Aahhh!" He uses his hands to cover his ears.

"Dustin-"

"I said no"

"Alright!" I exclaim with a laugh "alright, there won't be a next time. Got it" I raise my hands up on surrender.

"Exactly" he smiles brightly. "But, I guess you earned the right to choose the movies for the next... uh... 4 movie nights"

"Really? Yes!" I cheer then I stop "Wait... only 4? Man, I almost died! Ten at least!"

"We all almost died." He clarifies.

"Oh now you want to specify I wasn't the only one, uh!?" I scoff chuckling.

"Alright... the next 5 times"

"9"

"What? Nah, 6"

"8"

"Oh c'mon, you chose the last time too though!"

"Alright... 7, but I also get to choose what to eat" I take out my hand for him to shake.

He looks at me and let out a sigh, he grabs my hand and shakes it.

"Deal"

"Always a pleasure dealing with you" I smile at him. "I'll make pasta" I wink.

His face lightens up immediately.

"Your pasta?" He asks.

"Of course" I chuckle at his satisfied expression.

"But don't stress yourself too much" He immediately adds.

"Oh, not you too" I laugh exasperated.

"You didn't exactly went for a walk!" He exclaims.

"I'm fine" I laugh, then I calm down "I'm fine, Dusty" I say softly to him.

Dustin's face changes again, from serene to almost disconsolate.

"Dustin" I try to regain his attention "Dustin, what did we say?"

"It was no one's fault" he says.

"Good, now come here and give a good Dustin-hug" I open my arms waiting for him, letting out a sigh of relief when he finally hugs me.

When he pulls away I notice a little tear on his face, so I quickly wipe it away.

"It's all good now, okay?"

"Yes... yes you are right" he nods.

"We did it again"

We high-five and in that moment there's a knock on the door.

"Can I come in?"

It's Steve.

"Sure!" Dustin yells and I laugh.

Steve opens the door and lingers a little before entering.

"Hey, sweetheart, how do you feel?" He asks.

"I'm feeling better, thanks. Henderson here helped" I say patting Dustin's shoulder.

"Good, that's good" Steve mutters, a small smile crepping up his face, he quickly glances at the door "so... are you in the mood for a visit?"

"I guess..." I say, a little sceptical after seeing his behaviour. "What's going on?"

"Oh nothing, love" he smile and then opens the door and someone walks in.

My blood immediately runs cold, I tense immediately, as soon as Hopper walks in... I thought my hallucinations were getting better... and now he's using Hopper, too.

No no no no no... not this.

"No, no, please..." I start sobbing, and I cover my eyes.

"What's wrong?" I hear Dustin whispering to me.

"I thought the hallucinations were... were getting better... I can't." I sob.

"What are you talking about?"

"I see Hopper standing there... I... he's using Hop to torment me, " I explain. "Please... make it stop, make it stop" I sob into the pillow as I curl up in bed.

"Y/n," Steve's hand gently caresses my back. "Love? He is here."

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Hop is here." He tells me.

"What... how...no... he's..." I stutter.

"I honestly don't know, but he is here. He's alive. Do you trust me? You know I wouldn't mess with you."

I slowly look up to him, seeing how sincere he is, and even more slowly, I look to the door.

I look at Hopper standing there, a visible worried look on his face. He doesn't know what to do. He softly smiles at me, to reassure me everything is fine.

"He's really here?" I ask Steve and Dustin.

"Yes, babe,"

"Yap"

I cautiously stand up and walk to Hopper, I look up at him to check if he's actually here or not.

"Is it you? Like... for real?" I ask.

"It is" he smiles, eyes watering a little.

"Oh my god" I don't waste any more time and hug him. He immediately reciprocates.

"Everything is gonna be fine now. I'm here, kid," he says softly to me once he lets me go.

"I'm sorry... I... I thought.."

"It's okay, they told me everything." Hop reassures me "I'm sorry I wasn't here,"

"Oh don't say that to her. She hates it," Dustin chimes in.

"He's right " I say wiping away the tears "it's not like anyone could've stopped me"

"Of course" he chuckles "too stubborn for your own good."

"I wonder where I took it from" I tease.

"She's right, you know" Joyce appears from behind him, I just realise she's been here the whole time.

"Oh my god, hi" I quickly hug her too.

"Hey, sweetheart" she holds me tight, she then lets me go and cups one of my cheeks "You got us so worried"

"I'm sorry" I chuckle.

"When they told us you ended up here... God... even though you two are not related by blood, you definitely took your stubbornness from him"

"Well... I'm definitely proud of it" Hopper interferes with a big smile. "Oh... and they also let something slip"

"What?" I look from him to Steve, who has a guilty look on his face.

Before he can answer the door opens once again, only to let Eddie walk in, dressed in his own clothes, meaning he's ready to be dismissed.

"We bumped into Eddie on the way here..." Steve explains pointing to Eddie.

"Oh..." I nervously chuckle.

"Oh indeed."

"Yeah... I wanted to apologise" Eddie awkwardly scratches his neck "I knew you were dead and... you kinda spooked me... I'm sorry"

"What..?" I chuckle amused.

"He used me as a shield... and then he pushed me toward your dad.." Steve explains, rather exasperated.

"Aaw, poor baby" I joke.

"And while I was explaining to this dingus he wasn't a ghost-"

"Steve blurted out we are now.. a thing" Eddie finishes awkwardly, still avoiding eye contact with... everyone.

"That he did" Hopper says.

"And...? Do you have a problem with that?" I ask, cautiously.

"As long as they won't hurt you, I'm fine with it" he smiles, almost devilishly, "it will only mean I won't have to cover up a murder... anytime soon at least."

I see Eddie and Steve share a, not very subtle, scared look. They then turn to me asking for help, but I can't help but laugh. I know Hopper is only messing with them.

"Alright!" Joyce claps her hands to change the subject. "How about after you are dismissed we all gather around and have dinner together? Uh?"

"Definitely" I support her saving my boyfriends from Hop.

"C'mon, let's go, Jim. C'mon, you scared them enough" Joyce gently grabs Hop's Armstrong guide him out.

"Eh... not exactly enough. But there's plenty of time" he teases. "Take care, kids. Anything happens you call me, alright?"

"Sure, Hop" I smile at him.

"I'll come check on you tomorrow" he says.

I wave at them as they walk out.

"What a perfect way to say to my father we're in a relationship... Great job" I laugh.

"Yeah, you couldn't have chosen a better way, guys?" Dustin asks, with a amused grin.

"Hey don't look at me, man, he did it all" Eddie defends himself.

"Yeah yeah, it just came out... I'm sorry" he says, coming up to me and gently taking my hand in his.

"Hey, it's fine. I never thought I'd ever have to tell him something like that in the first place... so... it's actually better this way" I smile at them.

"He... he wouldn't actually.. murder us right?" Eddie asks.

"In the most brutal way" I joke and he glares at me.

"Very funny" he sarcastically says.

"I know" I wink at him.

"I came here to tell you they're dismissing me, by the way" he tells me "Wayne's outside to take me home. As a free man, nonetheless"

"Rightfully" I smile" do you feel better, though? Like actually okay?" I ask him.

"Yeah, yeah, I do, don't worry, my beautiful girl" he says getting closer to me and Steve.

"Alright, I'm still here" Dustin announces.

"Not my problem" was Eddie simple answer.

"Okay. My queue to leave. Bye, guys, get better Y/n. Bye" he quickly rushes out of the room.

"There you go... you scared Dustin" I say.

"Thankfully" Steve comments.

"You two are terrible" I laugh.

Eddie smirks before kissing me softly on the lips and then lets Steve do the same.

"About going home..." Steve starts " my parents won't be home for the next... uh... couple of months. Not surprising, I know, but... well... if you guys want to stay over and... maybe start to actually figure our whole situation out... we could"

"That's not a bad idea, Harrington." Eddie's still smirking "what do you say, sweetheart?"

"I say it's a great idea" I say and the kiss each boy on the cheek.

"And once you're out of here, we're taking you to the most amazing date you can ever imagine" Steve declares with a big loving smile.

"Easy there, Stevie... let's not create expectations we can't live up to" Eddie says making me laugh.

"Even a simple pizza and a movie at home would be absolutely perfect" I assure them.

"See?" Steve points at me looking at Eddie "she has no expectations at all. We're safe"

"Yeah... I guess you're right, man" Eddie agrees.

"C'mon, don't let your uncle wait too long." I say to Eddie kissing him.

"Oh fine fine. I'll leave." He sweetly smile down at me "you better get better soon. I can't deal with this guys here alone"

"Yeah, please, don't leave me with him" Steve begs.

"Oh c'mon, you two will be fine"

"Doesn't matter. Get better soon, we want to spoil you" Steve softly says, still playing with my fingers.

"I promise" I smile at them.

"Alright, let's get going. I'll prepare the house for the both of you" Steve says and gives me a kiss.

"Fine, I'll meet Wayne and go home to prepare my things instead" it's Eddie's turn to kiss me.

"See you two tomorrow" I wave at them as they exit.

I go sit on the bed taking everything in.

Hopper is alive... I definitely need him to tell me everything. It's so good to know it wasn't one of my hallucinations.

We're gonna be a family again, with El too. I can't believe it, it's great.

Everything is actually going to be fine.

[zlebooks]

𓂃 childe + frosting or fondant?

it's 3 am, you want to sleep but childe would rather talk about cake toppings.

under different circumstances, you would've thought that childe's sudden interest in cake decorations is cute.

but then again, it's 3 in the morning and you're sleep deprived from waiting up for your very drunk boyfriend. you're beginning to regret introducing the ginger to venti— how the both of them managed to evade the consequences of drinking God knows how many pints of beer is beyond you.

"babe, frosting or fondant?"

"for what?"

"the cake, duh." childe deadpans, his eyes almost shutting on its own— from intoxication or from sleep depravity, you didn't know.

"frosting then? fondant makes me sick."

the drunk man hums in agreement, muttering something along the lines of 'this is why i love you' under his breath.

"how many tiers? i personally want three because we officially started going out on our third date!" he pauses before giggling akin to a highschool girl in love, "remember when you said yes when i asked to be your boyfriend?"

"yeah. i'm starting to regret going out with you though." you sigh as you stare at the ceiling above you.

childe jolts up, elbowing your side in doing so before he hovers above your face. his breath fans you on the nose, making you scrunch in disgust from the mixed smell of alcohol and mint toothpaste. "what's that supposed to mean?" your boyfriend whines, shaking your entire body

"it means that i'd very much like to sleep. can't you decorate your cake tomorrow or something?" 

"dunno, can't you sleep tomorrow instead?" 

you shut your eyes as you groan in annoyance. childe is already unreasonable when sober, but drunk? prayers will be sent.

"ajax, it's 3 am already! how could a cake be any more important than my eight hours of sleep?"

your boyfriend gasps and you don't know if he's actually offended by the absurdity or he's just being overdramatic. "it's not just a cake!"

fuming, he adds, "it's a wedding cake!"

"and whose wedding are you meddling with?"

"ours!"

a beat of silence passes by and another. and then it's followed by another, and one more until a whole minute is spent in stillness. neither of you move to speak, that is until childe chokes out a hushed response. 

"unless we're not on the same page?"

"oh my god ajax. if you propose to me while suffocating me to death, i swear to god i am going to kick your balls so hard that when you wake up tomorrow, it'll still be painful."

childe, who lets go of his breath that he didn't even know he was holding, smiles foolishly at you. "that's not a no."

you roll your eyes, "it wasn't a yes either."

the ginger hums before rolling off of you. he now lays beside you, but it still didn't change the fact that he's still clinging unto you as if he were a koala.

"i'm going to marry you someday," he whispers against your cheek, "we'll have a big cake with all of our favorite toppings."

you turn to your side, now facing him. "are you sure about marrying me? i'm a handful." 

childe rolls his eyes, not believing the words that left your mouth. the both of you knows who's a real handful.

"it doesn't matter babe," peck. "i've got two hands." peck.

"yes. now use that hands to cover your mouth, i'm going to sleep."

your boyfriend (almost fiancee?) grumbles a disagreement under his breath but still goes quiet nonetheless. you sigh in content as you finally get the chance to fall into slumber peacefully. wrapping your arms around your lover, you bid him a quiet good night.

"do you think peonies and daisies would be a good combination for your bouquet?"

"ajax!"

childe went to bed with a bruised thigh that night.

♥︎ please do not repost or translate without my permission . reblogs are heavily appreciated!

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Yet another repost. This was for @chaotic-nick's Zeke Week from last year! [ SYNOPSIS ] An art museum date takes a slutty turn. And it's fucking sundress season™️. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.8k [ CONTENT ] Public sex, exhibitionism, finger sucking, nipple play, biting, rough sex, hair pulling, impact play (spanking), creampie, pet names (pretty girl). Not beta read.

“Check it out,” you said smugly. “Another nondescript Roman goddess.”

You stood, arms crossed, in front of an 18th century statue from somewhere in France. It was made of weathered, white marble. Undeniably beautiful, but it was the sixth statue you crossed paths with that looked like that. Each with the same expression, only differentiated by accessories like deer and apples.

“You’re not impressed?” Zeke asked.

You could barely mask your whiny tone. “Of course I’m impressed. I’m just bored.”

“It was your idea to come here,” he teased, playfully hip checking you.

“I know. I know,” you sighed. “Are you riveted by all of this?”

“Not really, no.”

You looked him up and down, gazing at his broad shoulders. He was wearing a pale blue chambray button-down with the sleeves rolled up. It was haphazardly tucked into a pair of black, straight leg jeans. The denim hugged his long, toned legs. Zeke was significantly more intriguing than any statue.

“You know what would be riveting?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Fucking me stupid. Right here, right now.”

Zeke’s grey eyes widened and he nervously cleared his throat. Almost as if he was trying to cover up what you had suggested even though it was obviously too late. You had already put the notion out in the atmosphere.

“There’s people,” he choked out.

“I know. Isn’t that exciting?”

“That is not the first word I would use—”

“Hush,” you said, holding your finger to his lips. “Have you ever fucked in public?”

“No. I was a virgin when I met you. You know the full extent of my sexual history.”

“Then let me be your first public fuck. I'm a perfect candidate. C’mon. You know I’d never lead you astray.”

His cheeks were pink, clearly titillated by your suggestion. You reached up and stroked his freshly shaven cheek.

“You’re thinkin’ about it.”

“What’s your point?” he asked, scratching the back of his ear.

“Live a little,” you said, mirroring his previous hip check.

Zeke looked around, eyes full of trepidation. You could tell he was weighing his options. You found yourself unconsciously crossing your fingers. Your craving for his cock felt innate and primal.

“Alright,” he said, draping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. “But not here. Let’s go a little deeper in and find somewhere with less foot traffic.”

You grinned like an eager idiot, more than happy to compromise. The two of you strolled down the hall passing by exhibits on grandiose Rococo paintings and grotesque medieval depictions of Christ languishing on the cross. You walked to the furthest exhibit on Italian Mannerist art. The walls were painted a deep navy and the lighting was low and warm. Zeke paused to look at a painting of a swan-like, sinewy woman flanked by the most bizarre looking angels you had ever seen. You latched onto his wrist and pulled him into a corner.

“Is this better? Do you feel safer?”

“I didn’t feel unsafe before,” he scoffed. “I just didn’t want to get caught with my dick out. That’d be humiliating.”

“Or hot.”

“Maybe to you. It’s not your dick.”

“Yes, it is,” you said, palming his semi-hard cock.

Zeke swallowed hard. “I know,” he admitted.

“You know what?” you asked, playing coy.

His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close to his body. He radiated warmth.

“That my dick belongs to you… and only you,” he murmured as he slipped his hand under your dress. He cupped your ass with his rough palm.

You started to unbutton his jeans while gazing into his grey eyes, his pupils dark and dilated. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. As confident as you were, there was still a nervousness that left your stomach fluttering. You didn’t hate it though. It reminded you that this was exciting, that this was new and risky. You quickly glanced over your shoulder making sure no one has slipped in to look at paintings of overgrown Christ Children. To your utter pleasure, Zeke and you were the only souls around.

“Such a smart boy.”

You reached up and cradled Zeke’s face in your hands. He gave you a small smile before tenderly kissing you. His lips were soft as they brushed up against yours. His movements were small and controlled, and you struggled to stay on his level. You didn’t want tenderness, not now. Now was the time to embrace ferality. To fuck like debauched beasts.

You pressed your crotch up against him and bit down on his bottom lip.

“Hey!”

You shut him up by kissing him with the intensity you craved. Your tongue hungrily sought out his. You couldn’t help but moan a little as your cunt rubbed up against his jeans. Your underwear did little to subdue the friction.

Zeke’s hand crept up your back before stopping at the base of your skull. His fingers threaded through your hair. He held his hand there for a moment, luring you into a relaxed state. It wasn’t particularly hard to do. You were so focused on your wet cunt grinding up against his thigh. He waited a few seconds and then gave your hair a tug. You squealed with delight.

“So you want it rough, huh?”

“Yes,” you moaned, voice teeming with desperation.

He unfastened the first few buttons of your dress, exposing your chest. He nipped at your neck, leaving behind a trail of kisses down your sternum. He pulled your dress down and nibbled the soft flesh of your breast. You groaned as he caught your nipple in between his teeth.

Zeke swirled his tongue around your nipple. One of his hands was still twisted up in your hair, pulling your head back. His other was pressed against the small of your back. You stared upward, eyes glazing over as he sucked on your breast. You mindlessly rutted against his thigh. Your underwear were soaked.

“Want me to fuck your pussy, pretty girl?” he asked, his breath hot against your breast.

“Mhm,” you replied feebly.

He released your hair from his death grip.

“Turn around.”

You turned around and faced the exhibit. Zeke positioned himself behind you and lifted up your dress. He peeled off your underwear, tossing them out of sight. He pressed his thick cock up against your bare cunt. You let out a little whimper as he dragged the tip along your folds, teasing you.

He reached around and gently grabbed you by the throat.

“Are you ready for me?”

“Yes!” you cried out in exasperation.

You waited for Zeke to slip his cock inside you, but for whatever reason he was hesitating.

“What’s wrong?”

Nothing, but silence.

“Are you nervous?”

“... No,” he said gruffly.

“You can do it, champ,” you snickered.

He let out an amused exhale and planted a kiss on the back of your head. He stroked your neck with his calloused thumb. You hummed blissfully.

Zeke guided his cock into your cunt. Your knees grew weak as it filled you up, stretching out your sensitive flesh. He groaned as his tender cocktip grazed your cervix. You tightened around his length, relishing in yet another one of his pained groans.

“Shit,” he mumbled as he bottomed out.

Your head grew fuzzy with pleasure. Everything was obscured by a sensuous haze. If it weren’t for Zeke’s hand around your neck, you might’ve fallen to the floor. Your body but a mere limp noodle. He must have known your grip on reality was tenuous at best because he slipped his arm around you and up your dress. He placed his palm on your lower stomach, letting his rough fingers play with your clit.

You twisted your hips slightly as he held you in place. You felt like you would burst if he continued to trap you on his cock.

“Zeke,” you whined.

“What?” he asked, playing dumb.

You huffed and muttered a few indecipherable swear words. Taking pity on you, Zeke began to thrust. The first torpedoed his cock into your cervix, a startling yet welcome sensation.

“F—fuck,” you whimpered.

He massaged your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he said through a clenched jaw.

“Yeah,” you mumbled mindlessly.

Your reply bore no weight, no meaning. Your only concerns were coming and making sure a family of tourists didn’t stumble upon the two of you.

He stopped rubbing your clit and lifted your dress up further, exposing your bare ass. He gave it a hard spank, sending a jolt throughout your body. Your skin felt electric. You were burning up. 

Zeke’s thrusts grew sloppy and wild, showing little mercy on your cunt. His breathing grew faster by the second. You arched your back as he pounded his cock into you.

“Gonna… come,” he groaned.

You started to play with your aching clit as Zeke fucked a stream of cum into your cunt. In his usual form, he babbled your name as he came, moaning and rambling about how tight your pussy felt and how good you were at taking his cock.

His praise brought you closer to the edge, gradually breaking you down. He was able to find a rhythm once more now that the urgency of his orgasm was behind him. His thrusts were deep and methodical.

“That feel good?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you recited like a prayer.

He brushed your hand aside and massaged your clit for you. The exhibit was overcome by the sounds of your cum-filled cunt getting fucked.  You tried to swallow your moans, but it was losing battle. Every so often one would escape, shrill and pained. Zeke struggled to stifle his laughter anytime one was let loose.

“Not too loud,” he whispered in your ear.

“I can’t he—help it.”

He gracelessly forced three of his fingers in your mouth to shut you up. If you weren’t so close to coming you would have bit down on them.

Your body shuddered and your vision blurred, the whole room seemingly melted away into nothingness. You came so hard you felt as if your body was deteriorating in Zeke’s arms.

“You were right,” he purred, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“About?” you asked breathily.

“About you being the perfect person to do this with,” he gushed.

He helped you fix your dress, fastening the buttons and smoothing out its hem. Neither of you could find your underwear and they were ultimately left behind. On your way out of the exhibit a gaggle of pastel-haired, old women stopped the two of you, asking you inane questions about the museum under the assumption that you two worked there. Your heightened anxiety made an awkward encounter, an excruciating one. Zeke and you politely blew them off; you had little to no desire to talk to anyone as warm cum dripped down the inside of your thigh.

[amara-among-the-stars]

Here is chapter two of my crack fic being reposted. Like it, dont like idgaf. Added some more shit to it and it gave me serotonin.

OH EM!!! :333 ENJOY GAIIIZ. HERES CHAOTER TEW :3

And there Dew was. Cronch cronch cronching on those stupid Dortillo Ketchup Chips... like the heathen he is...

Swiss awesomely sighed and turned pulled his sunglasses down to raise an eyebrow at Dew.

"Dewdrop you're not giving very good ken-ergy and its throwing the vibes off. Thats not very party of you."

Swiss huffed.

Dew flipped Swiss off like the boss he is and flipped his hair.

“If anything I am Barbie Bitch and best if you remember that Swissthaniel Grenadine Dwyane.” Dewdrop retorted, producing a sushi bowl out of nowhere and eating it.

“Where the fawk did yew get that sushi?” Swiss asked, grabbing a piece.

“Places. I'm magic barbie. Bitch.” Dew huffed.

And then the fire ghoul proceeded to walk away in his high platform heels with his magical sushi.

Swiss was so super confused and decided to do some back walk overs to go bother Aether and Aeon to bother them because he was like sooooo super bored and wanted entertainment.

Swiss huffed and flopped like a fish onto Aether’s juicy thick ass thighs and stared at the ghoul.

“Yes Swissthaniel?” Aether asked.

“Entertain me. I'm bored.” Swiss replied.

Aether huffed and shoved Swiss off the couch.

“I am not thy court Jester!” Aether said in a REALLY funny accent like from Shakespeare's time.

“But Aethy!” Swiss whined like a dog.

“Hush! Be silent mere peasant! We are watching Romeo and Juliet! With Leonardo Di Capri Sun.” Aeon replied.

“Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?” Aether quoted.

“I do bite my thumb, sir.” Aeon chirped

“Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?” Aether questioned.

Swiss huffed and puffed at the nerds and left like the boss he is to go find entertainment.

Meanwhile, Rain and Dew were getting their nails done by Cirrus and Cumulus while Sunny and Rora were doing their hair. The duo wanted to totally look so fricken awesome that Dew was coloring his hair a … GUESS WHAT A PURPLE COLOR LIKE OH EM GEEEEEE. IS GONNA BE SO CUTEEEEE.

And Rain was doing theirs as a cool ombre of Teal and PINK. (Mostly bc they lost a bet to Mist hahaha get FUCKED RAINY)

Anywaiiiizzzz.

So Swiss continued on his adventure and finally met up with Ifrit in the courtyard. He was with Alpha and they were doing dude bro things like lifting weights and drinking smoothies like the respectful dude bro’s they are and invited Swiss to join them. He agreed and instantly became a dude bro as well with the cool ray dude sunglasses and a smoothy magically appeared. After they totally got like RIPPED AF they showered and then made dinner because they are RESPECTFUL DUDE BROS and Rainy and Dew showed off their cute hair and nails.

They also woke Mountain up to eat dinner and he grumpily removed himself from his beloved tree. (He has such a weird thing with wanting to be a tree. Like cmom u giant. THERE IS MOAR TO LYFE THAN BEING A FUCKING TREE!!!! )

After dinner the pack had a movie night, all laying on each other before passing the fuck out.

(A/n haiii gaiiiz i hope u enioyed part tew of mah fic :3 pls like and subscribe and retweet if you want moar of eht plssssssss!!!!)

[biitchcakes]

REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE .

In no particular order. . .

What's Up? ⸺ 4 Non Blondes

And so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed Just to get it all out what's in my head And I, I am feeling a little peculiar And so I wake in the morning and I step outside And I take a deep breath and I get real high And I scream from the top of my lungs "What's going on?"

I'm Still Standing ⸺ Elton John

You could never know what it's like Your blood, like winter, freezes just like ice And there's a cold, lonely light that shines from you You'll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use And did you think this fool could never win? Well look at me, I'm a-comin' back again I got a taste of love in a simple way And if you need to know while I'm still standin' You just fade away Don't you know I'm still standin' better than I ever did? Lookin' like a true survivor, feelin' like a little kid And I'm still standin' after all this time Pickin' up the pieces of my life without you on my mind.

Rhiannon ⸺ Fleetwood Mac

Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night And wouldn't you love to love her? Takes to the sky like a bird in flight And who will be her lover? She is like a cat in the dark And then she is the darkness She rules her life like a fine skylark And when the sky is starless  All your life you've never seen Woman taken by the wind Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win?

My Way ⸺ Frank Sinatra

And now, the end is near And so I face the final curtain My friend, I'll say it clear I'll state my case, of which I'm certain I've lived a life that's full I travelled each and every highway And more, much more than this I did it my way Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew When I bit off more than I could chew But through it all, when there was doubt I ate it up and spit it out I faced it all, and I stood tall And did it my way

Cheri Cheri Lady ⸺ Modern Talking

Cheri Cheri Lady, goin' through emotion Love is where you find it, listen to your heart Cheri Cheri Lady, livin' in devotion It's always like the first time, let me take a part Cheri Cheri Lady, like there's no tomorrow Take my heart, don't lose it, listen to your heart Cheri Cheri Lady, to know you is to love you If you call me, baby, I'll be always yours

Stronger ⸺ Britney Spears

Hush, just stop There’s nothing you can do or say I've had enough I'm not your property as from today You might think that I won't make it On my own But now I'm stronger than yesterday Now it’s nothing but my way My loneliness ain't killing me no more I, I'm stronger Here I go, on my own I don't need nobody, better off alone

tagged by : @hexsreality && @revenantinflames !!

tagging : @silverjetsystm @profanemouth @starsbelonged @gammaragee @liiched @sxrgeantbarnes @neonwebs @watsonjackpot @wonder-winged @overclocks + you !!

[kazumiwrites-fanfiction]

Day In Kindergarten

SUMMARY: Dabi gets dragged along on your subbing job for a kindergarten class; will he, the class, and you be okay?

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNINGS: Boys being boys (but, y'know, in a good/funny/idiotic way (y'all know how boys (especially cis boys) are-)), children being gross (if you get disgusted by mentions of spit, snot, and children being sick, this fic is probably not for you- you've been warned), Dabi feeling insecure, Dabi trying to give you affection in front of children (but like- soft attention, not anything that children shouldn't see-), you threatening Dabi (although it's somewhat playful-), my OCs being turned into a kindergarten class and being chaotic.

A/N: This was so fun to write- what- Anyways, this was for a collab with @yesitsmewhataboutit​ for their Reverse Collab!  A/N: Originally posted here.

© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.

Dabi blinked, sighing softly as he walked inside the school. Why, exactly, was he, a wanted villain, doing this? What was the point?

He glanced over at you, eyes softening ever so slightly. Yes, he was soft for you... He couldn't help it. He let you do... Pretty much anything. Including getting dragged to an elementary school in the middle of nowhere. Apparently you volunteered there every Thursday when you could to read books and pretty much just take care of the children. Although he loved being with you, being with children was... A nuisance.

He let out a soft huff, wrapping his arms around your waist, and holding you close, nuzzling in to you. He didn't care that there were literal five-year-olds watching, picking their noses or whatever little kids do. Being so close to you made him happy, and that was that.

With a small laugh, you pushed the male off your back. "Touya, no- I know you like cuddles, but not right now. Wait for like... Seven hours. That's around when we'll be done."

Dabi huffed softly with a small pout. Seven hours? He wasn't allowed to shower you with affection for seven hours? Seriously.

He let out a small mumble of assent, nodding slightly before following you to one of the classrooms.

Personally, this particular class was your favorite. They weren't super chaotic, but they weren't dead-quiet either. You hummed softly as you walked in, Dabi trailing after you like a lost puppy.

"Ooh, ooh, is that your boyfriend, [L/N]-sensei?" A little girl stood up, hand raised straight up in the air with a big smile on her face. "I didn't know you were dating any-"

Another kid stood up, half-pushing her away. "Shh- [L/N]-sensei, who's that person?"

"No- you guys need to stop being so-"

"Shut upppp!"

"Shut up's a bad word-"

"It is not-"

"Class. Be quiet." A soft laugh escaped you, smiling softly. "This is Touya. Just call him Touya-sensei, all right?" You hummed softly; you didn't want to think of a last name for Dabi, since if he didn't respond, that would be bad, and anyways, it'd be fine.

Dabi huffed softly before you poked him in the stomach. He glanced over at you before sighing. "Hey. I'm Touya, I guess. And yes, I'm dating [L/N]-sensei." He received a glare from you as whispers spread throughout the class, kids almost jumping from their seats.

"No, Touya. Hush. We weren't supposed to talk about that." You nudged him slightly with a small huff. "Shh, class." You clapped your hands together to try to get their attention, which worked somewhat.

Most of the kids sat back down a few seconds later, allowing you to get on with class. Mostly, you just had to watch over them as they were smart enough to do most things themselves.

Dabi was wandering around a bit, pausing as a girl—the same kid who first asked if he was dating you—tugged on his jacket. He paused slightly, freezing as his jacket slipped away a bit, showing his scars. He bit the inside of his cheek, internally panicking. He shook his head slightly, ignoring the girl and walking back to you, grabbing your hand and half-dragging you out, leaving the class staring at you in confusion.

You paused for a moment, worried as you watched him. "Dabi...? What's wrong?" You asked softly, running a hand through his hair. Your head tilted slightly to the side, your free hand cupping his cheek.

"I just..." He mumbled softly, biting his lip. "I don't think I can do this..."

You sighed a little. "It's okay, Touya, don't worry... The children love you." You blinked as you watched him, uncertain.

"It's- it's not that. I just... You know, my scars..." He said quietly, clearly uncomfortable.

You were surprised, yes, but quickly recovered. "You know I like your scars. The children'll find them fascinating, too. Just, shh..." You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

He sighed shakily as he leaned in to your touch, relaxing ever so slightly. His eyes fluttered shut, nodding a little. "Yeah, but... So many people have gotten scared because of them. The youngest person that I talk to lately is Toga, and you know how she is." He paused for a moment. "I just, don't want to terrify them..."

"I know, I know... But they've been through a lot. They had a villain attack on their school, too, so there's that... I think it was because one of the students here was the child of a hero." She paused for a moment. "You better not tell anyone in the League this, I'll hit you if y'all ever get any one of these children hurt." You huffed softly; you didn't really mean it, but you were pretty close to a lot of the kids here. Even though they were young, and sometimes pretty rude (as well as disgusting), they grew on you.

"Yeah, yeah... And, I won't. I don't want to make you angry." Dabi let out a soft chuckle, glancing up at you. "Thanks. That made me feel better." He played with a lock of your hair for a moment before pulling away. "Now, we should go back to the kids, right? Take care of them?"

"You sorta sounded like we were married and looking after our biological kids, while also sounding like you were about to murder them. But, yeah." You hummed softly, grabbing his hand as you walked in.

"See, I told you that they were-"

"Hush, Gin-chan. Sit down."

The school day was mostly over, you two just had recess to get over with and that would be all.

Overall, the day was going pretty good, the children were behaving... Well, decently.

Up until that point, at least.

You had ran to the bathroom for a bit, leaving Dabi alone to take care of the twenty or so kids in the class. And then it was chaos.

Some of the kids were pulling on his jacket and pants (since he was crouched down to their level), watching him curiously.

"Wow- what're these? Bruises?" A little child asked, his dark blue eyes blinking as he looked at Dabi's arms.

"They're... Scars, I guess. From overusing my Quirk."

"Woah- that can happen?" His eyes were wide.

"Mm, for some people. I think it depends on the quirk, sometimes... But yeah. You need to be careful." He let out a soft sigh.

The kid nodded a little, before grabbing his hand. "You should smileeee-" He said, almost obnoxious.

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes, cracking a small smile. Just then, he heard a scream, as well as a horrified gasp from you—you were back, finally!

"No- Yuuma, no-" You grabbed the cup away from one of the children. "What is this?"

Yuuma blinked up at you innocently. "A concoction I made!" He seemed really happy when he used such a big word. "It has dirt, leaves, and spit in it!"

You blinked, staring at the child before sighing, turning away and burying your face in Dabi's shoulder. "What should I do with them..."

Dabi laughed softly, rubbing your back. "Shh... It's okay, love." He took the cup from your hands, glancing over at Yuuma, who looked a bit disappointed that his precious concoction was going away. "It's all right—Yuuma, right? It's okay. We can make another concoction; one that won't make [L/N]-sensei here faint." He chuckled softly, throwing the cup away before getting a new one handed to him by you.

"I swear, both of you are going to timeout if I hear anything else gross happening." You sighed softly, shaking your head as you muttered "boys..." under your breath. You loved them, sure, but sometimes you just wanted to smack them all on the head. Lovingly, of course.

You were glad that Dabi and the children were getting along, though. Most of the boys and around a third of the girls were crowded around him. They all thought his quirk was "better than [L/N]-sensei's," apparently, which made you sigh. Children. Always so impressed with the flashy quirks. You weren't jealous. Nope. Not at all.

Anyways, you walked around, tending to the other children, helping them get up. They really were cute, though... You loved all of them a lot.

Soon, the day was over, and it was finally time to go home. After watching over all the children going home, both of you could go home as well. You glanced up at Dabi with a small smile on your face. "See- This wasn't that bad, was it?"

He shrugged slightly. "Yeah, I suppose not. They were pretty nice."

You poked his stomach gently. "Oh, hush, you know you loved it."

"Yeah, yeah." He laughed a little, poking you back. "Now, let's go home; I want to give you a lot of cuddles."

You smiled softly, grabbing his hand and walking. You really couldn't wait to spend the rest of your day with Dabi.

[kuraitsune]

CARiNG FOR YOU!

PARiNGS - ...Shu Yamino x GN!reader

MENTiONS - ...none other than you and Shu!

SUMMARY - ...when you had gotten sick, Shu immediately checked in with you, caring for you along the way even when you insisted you were fine.

READER'S PROFiLE - ...you have an established relationship with Shu, everything else is up to you!

DiSCLAiMERS - in no way am i a professional writer, i just like english lol. please know that these writings are a work of fiction and are the appearance and persona of the character! not the person behind the screen.

"Shu, dear, I really am alright! I can take care of myself perfectly fine!" you shrugged off Shu's insistence to care for you.

You obviously didn't want your troubles to be a nuisance to your boyfriend but Shu was stubborn and started to gently push you into your shared room(used to be just yours, until he decided to barge in to cuddle with you every night now).

"Hey-!"

"Hush, just relax for now and let me care for you this week," the sorcerer interrupted your pleas. You rolled your eyes semi-playfully, submitting to letting him caring for you.

"Fine then," you pouted as you placed yourself comfortably in your bed, crossing your arms.

"I'm going to grab some food and water for you, mk?" Shu noted to you, leaving the room temporarily.

A few minutes passed fairly quickly as you scrolled through Twitter, waiting for your boyfriend to come back. He soon entered the room again, with a tray of food, snacks, and water on top.

"Do you want me to keep you company while you eat or do you want me to-" Shu settled the tray by the side of you.

"Stay here, please."

"No problem. How are you feeling?" you simply shrugged, not knowing how you feel at the moment. Picking up a box of Pocky, you took a few sticks and nom'd on them with a barely visible grin on your face. Suddenly, you almost choked on them.

"[name]! You good?" Shu quickly leapt closer to your side, brows furrowing slightly with worry.

"Y-yes, I'm fine, Shu... By the way," you reassured Shu, "can we cuddle?"

"Wha- I mean, of course! But... you're sick though," the sorcerer raised an eyebrow suspiciously, though scooting closer to you by the second.

"If you're going to take care of me, you'll fall with me too. It's only fair that I also get to take care of you too!" you hugged Shu's waist, pulling him in your warmth.

"Fine. Come here," he sighed, shaking his head. Though a prominent smile and expression of adoration painted his face.

NOTE - what do you guys count as short, ik for certain that my "in the making" ike fic was short, idk about this one though. it is fast paced, probably need to tone down the dialogue a bit but oh well.

hoped you guys enjoyed this shu fic~

DO NOT: repost or copy any of @kuraitsune's works! sharing is fine with credits.