#Got lazy to draw the Organs on the ground

[skydreamplayzz]

'Your own body always tastes the Best. . . '

(he's eating his own Organs bc He was starving, plus fish :'D also got lazy )..

[melodiousmonsters]

heyhey !! love your stuff !! i was just wondering if you have any info on the non-fire natural quads ?! (like entbrat, deedge, riff, shellbeat and quarrister) i'd really like to hear what they are like in your au............

Yeah uh sorry about kinda lying about answering my asks um I got bit by the programing bug but for games this time, but yeah. I only have drawings of some of them because lazy.

I'll be talking about all of them though, and a bit about monster maturing. The natural quads are only found in their elemental lands/islands as the elemental energies in those areas allow for eggs of their species to be formed in the first place. They can only have an elemental dominance of their respective element due to their connection with it.

Entbrats like woods, which plant island has an abundance of, and the woods they grow up in is the one they stay in whenever they have the choice of where to go, making it so the castle of plant island doesn't actually have a room for a boss monster due to how unlikely it is for the current boss entbrat to live in the woods near the castle. The castle of course was originally built to have a room for the quad, but it's been converted into another storage room. Castles serve mainly as storehouses in this universe.

Deedges are very strong and protective monsters. Their semi-serrated tusks and extra wide-opening jaws are perfect for defensive offense against the predatory critters of the cold lands/cold island. They are surprisingly mobile for not having any legs, their strong arms allow them to move, often they will fully support their body with them being the only things touching the ground allowing them to run as fast as most other monsters and also fling themselves to jump. They can get around well.

You may notice the extra speaker on the deedge skull in the drawing I made. Older monsters commonly develop enhanced versions of their younger form's body parts, making it so unlike humans, monsters actually get better at surviving the older they get. To a point of course, about a month before they die they start physically degrading similar to earthly creatures as they age.

Riffs like most air land dwelling flighted monsters are scavengers that soar the lands looking for anything edible. They are just a bit more so scavengers than most, they can eat anything primarily organic, like dead wood, limestone, etc. It's weird. Of course they prefer the more palatable normal food stuff, but if they needed to they could eat most of a house. As for ockulo trees, the small short lived ones grow from large piles of riff feathers left around during molting season. The larger longer lived ones come from dead riffs. When a riff is about to die it has a natural instinct to fly over to this one location in the air lands and bury themselves, the extra nutrients form the body allow for the tree to grow stronger. The place is simply called The Ockulo Grove and it's usually avoided due to how morbid it is.

Shellbeats are the most elementally in-tune of the quads and have very small amounts of control over their element. They can shift water around to move things, usually their drum sets. Speaking of their drum sets, they are primarily made of the shells of shellfish they eat. Water monsters love their shellfish, standard fish are for the cold monsters. Also they have the ability to spit "ink". People like to say it's just ink, but similarly to a lama's or alpaca's spit, it's much worse than it sounds. As babies they need the defense, so to make the ink as repulsive as possible it's mixed with half digested food from their second stomach and then spit out at a very high velocity at whatever is offending them. they can also just spit the ink by itself, shellbeat ink is commonly used for writing.

Quarristers hatch with all those heads, I know it ruins the unity concept the monster has but the quads are very rare monsters in this universe so like eight of them existing at once in the modern era is impossible. Each head has it's own consciousness and identity, but it's common for at least adult quarristers to all go by the same name. The heads can pop off and become their own organism whenever they please, and occasionally they do. But most often they realize that they need the other heads and come back after a bit.

Nowadays the previous quad trains up a younger one to fill their role after they retire, but in the early days of the modern monster world the natural island's societies were a mess with very little order. Monsters that aren't like three feet tall have a natural instinct to listen to anyone taller then them. This makes it so larger monsters often get unintentionally pushed up the social ladder as the one guy everyone goes to for advice. These so called boss monsters are often the quads as they are some of the largest standard monsters. After a while they generally learn to fill their roll, monsters naturally never have the urge, let alone the skills to lead.

[musingartblog]

it’s simply what it is (snooze squad fanfic)

thought it would be fun to post oc fics here,let me know what ya think!

tw...uh sickness and swifi kinda being mean

Frankly Swifi didn’t need to show up to the Snooze squad’s base but after work assignments stopped being reported in he needed to step in and see them personally about this laziness.Though ‘base’ was not something that would describe the place,it was a small home with a stone pathing leading up to it and flower beds out front,he can see Eraz’s vegetable and fruit garden stick out from the back of the house,it looks like any other house,not a fancy mansion like the Star Sanses or a dark foreboding castle like Nightmare’s,if he wasn’t a hologram,it would be like he’s visiting his grandma’s.

His slippers click against the stone ground as he was greeted by the large oak door,he could just teleport in but he has manner,knocking the door.His foot taps impatiently as he hears shuffling on the other side,the door unlocks and the devil themselves opens it up,Eraz was wearing a dull red apron on top of their usual green jacket.

“yo” They greeted,their male and female voices overlapped, disorienting to strangers,normal for Swifi to hear.

“greetings Eraz” He spoke calmly,”I’m hear to talk about your recently streak of lack of reports and overall laziness”

“ah that,come in” They simply said,moving out of the way to let the hologram in.

“I bet your wondering what’s been going on”

“yes,that is the reason I’m here” Swifi remarks,”I wouldn’t leave the Hivemind for any other reason”

Swifi follows Eraz into the kitchen,seeing the large pot that’s boiling on the stove and Eraz continues to talk,”well funny thing about us organics is that we catch illnesses really quick”

Eraz stirs the pot alittle bit before grabbing a bowl from the cupboard,”Calcite didn’t dry off after we went river swimming and caught a cold”

“of course he didn’t” He muttered,”so you stopped reporting all because one….member of your team got sick?”

“yeah I don’t plan on leaving no one’s side,no matter what” They spoke with a slight vigor in their tone.

“Ink often goes on one-on missions”

“well I’m not Ink” They snap,their masculine voice kicking in, harsher than intended though that doesn’t disturb the hologram.

He knew that it was a sensitive topic to the other,however that didn’t change the fact that Ink was an effective protector of the Sleepyverse compare to Eraz,it was almost as if Eraz didn’t want to be one.Too bad they didn’t have a choice.

Eraz poured the soup into the bowl and headed out of the kitchen,Swifi followed suit.

“where’s Tic Toc?”

“he’s in the study,looking into how colds affect glitches” They spoke,keeping an eye on the bowl to avoid spilling.

“Anomaly Assets have weaker immune systems” Swifi states matter of factly.

Eraz shakes their head,”y’know I wish you didn’t have a confidence to say such things”

“I can say it with confidence because I am right” Swifi reminds them.

“well don’t do it infront of Calcite okay? I know ya hate the guy but give him a bit of a break”

Swifi frowned,he rather stay 5 feet away from that thing,his own internal systems agreed on that,he could feel the sawblade form inside his chest cavity,nevertheless he needed to stay professional even if it means dealing with some of the most disgusting creatures that dare to exist.Both making their way to Calcite’s door,scribbled with childish drawings and stickers plaster over it with cutesy things.Eraz used their feet to push open the door,allowing entrance into the room.

And if Swifi could feel strong emotions,it would be fear.

Calcite’s room was filled to the brim with plushies and toy it would put any five year old to shame,no help to Eraz buying them for him—as if the team didn’t already have a tight budget,crayons,chalk and paper littered the floor.It was a mess but Swifi wasn’t going to be their vacuum ,not after last time.

The bed was also filled with toys as well,it was hard to spot Calcite under all of it that is until he moved,shifting underneath the blankets with a soft groan,Swifi nearly pulled out his destabilizer upon hearing that but he had to hold his arm down as he watched Eraz sit on the bed,a soft gentle smile grew across their face.

“Hey Callie” Their feminine voice spoke,sounding like a welcoming mother,”wake up little guy,I got you food”

Calcite whimpers slightly,shifting more,”not hungry…”

Well that’s a first for Swifi to hear,Calcite wanting to consume everything in sight was his whole personality trait!

“geez you must be real sick then” They replied,moving the bowl closer to Calcite,”guess I have to eat this whole delicious homemade soup all by myself then~”

Once the wafer of the soup hit the purple glitch’s nose,he quickly sat up,kicking some of the toys to the floor,now that’s Calcite that they all knew.

“i-I can still eat i-it!” He stuttered out with a sniffle,face deeply burning purple.

Eraz laughs,it was genuinely sweet sounding,Not something Swifi hear during work hours,”of course Callie,I never doubted you”

It didn’t take long for Calcite to consume all of the soup,it was a disgusting sight for a the hologram,as the glitch finished his meal he spotted Swifi awkwardly standing around and his eyes lit up.

“Swifi you’re h-here?” He exclaims,beaming as if his sickness wasn’t affecting him.

Swifi however didn’t feel the same way,”unfortunately I am”

Calcite either was too stupid to recognize the comment or simply ignore it,sneezing which rattled the bed,”it’s n-nice to see you”

“you always see me” He retorts.

“outside” He explained,”now that you’re h-here maybe we can watch a movie?”

“ah Swifi might be busy for that” Eraz cuts in before the hologram could make a harsh remark.

Still,Swifi butts in,”indeed I am,I am only here to discuss the missing reports,now that I know why I shall take my leave”

Not that he’s wanted anyway.

Calcite smacks his hands on the bed,pouting,”but you’re always busy! We rarely spend time together outside of work!”

He blinked,his internet connection to this world was not strong so he may have froze or stutter and misheard,surely the glitch didn’t actually want to spend time with him? Calcite’s shouting cause him to go into a coughing fit to which eraz quickly comforted him, bringing a glass of water off the bedside table and holding it close.

“easy Callie” They soothed the other,”I know ya like being around people but sometimes work is more important”

He deflated in the bed,eyes drooped,he doesn’t say anything else as he took the drink.Swifi knew when to spot a liar,when someone faked certain emotions or feelings but Calcite did not have an ounce of deceit in his body,he was incapable of lying let alone lying well.

Either the sickness was getting to Calcite or he had a death wish.

He loudly sighs,”considering that all three of you are using this as an reason to be lazy,I suppose I can ‘watch’ a movie”

Calcite shoots back up,”really?! You’ll stay!?!”

“don’t make me regret it” He snarked back,crossing his arms

Eraz smirked,”ooohhh look at you being lazyyy~”

“don’t make me regret it” He repeats.

It seems he had to stoop down to their level,though knowing that someone appreciates him to some extent,even if that someone is his worst enemy,it was a complex matter but knowing this strange team like the back of his database,It’s simply what it is.

[stthegemini]

So, I went to an occult shop the other day. I got to talking to the shop owner.

I start talking about hoodoo and he’s saying voodoo/Vodou... but that’s not what got me.

We’re nearing the end of my purchase, and our conversation. This is when he got me. He pulls out a mojo calling it a poppet.

I’m just thinking “...I’m sorry sir, but that is not a poppet.”

This brings me to a topic I’ve wanted to talk about for a while: synchronizing Hoodoo and chaos magic.

Hoodoo in America and Why White People Are Not Taught

Hoodoo comes from enslaved Africans throughout the Americas (particularly the American/Antebellum South)

Whites attempted to remove African cultural and (spiritual) identities to make a docile population that tends to their desires (slaves). African indigenous/religious worship was outlawed, families and entire generations killed or separated, while racism made it hard for progress in any other area of life.

Because of this African heritage survived by families passing on wisdom verbally and practicing in secret.

Hoodoo has no roots as a religion in America, but borrows from Christianity and Catholicism using prayers and Bible verses to empower the lives and magic of Conjure (Wo)men. Similarly, Obeah, a form of Hoodoo specific to the Caribbean, has no roots as a religion. Obeah was outlawed after 1760 because its role in slave revolts across the Caribbean. Voodoo/ Vodou, unlike Hoodoo, is an organized religion with spiritual hierarchies, ritual ceremonies, customs and practices. However, due to racism, laziness and media portrayals of African-based magic hoodoo and voodoo are often used interchangeably. Obeah was “forgotten” due to its violent history.

Hoodoo‘s past has connections to European and First Nation (Native American) magic systems from when a Conjure (wo)men worked under white witches and herbalists. In those spaces knowledge was shared. Influence from First Nation animism/herbalism is present because some Africans were also kept as slaves by Native Americans.

Simply for the racial history alone:

Mojo =/= poppet

Now we have a bit of background on hoodoo let’s get into the magic terminology and philosophy.

Magic: Hoodoo and European

Poppets are sympathetic magic which involves using/making a taglock, an object or image that looks like the target. Poppets are used to send energy to a specific person exerting an influence over their person/reality. (European)

A mojo is a talisman that is typically used to help a person to advance or attract a specific energy or outcome to them. Mojos are believed to house a spirit which needs to be ritually “birthed” and fed. (African Animism/Hoodoo)

So, again: mojo =/= poppet

Now, there is a such thing as using a voodoo doll, but, again, this is sympathetic magic which uses a taglock and a figure, made to resemble the target, to influence the persons physical/spiritual/mental/emotional state. That is not a mojo, which functions as a ritual talisman used to draw things into your life (luck, health, wealth, love, etc).

Magical Synchronicity: Hoodoo and Chaos Magick

In my understanding mojos have a similar ritual process, purpose and maintenance as a servitor.

A servitor is a being, or thoughtform, given life through ritual in which it requires a purpose, a name, a physical home, and sustenance to survive and do their intended work.

Similarly, after birthing and activating your mojo it is expected you feed it with spirits (alcohol) and oil at least once a month (preferably once a week) so it can continue to work for you.

Both a servitor and a mojo can go into the (spiritual) world to pull strings or collect knowledge and information for you. They can be used for many reasons, but can go rogue if not treated with care and respect.

Here, Hoodoo and chaos magick can come to a common ground.

You could follow the same process for creating a mojo, then enhance it by incorporating the ritual of creating a servitor. Giving the mojo: life, purpose, a name, thought form (spirit body) and even some independence in how it’s connected to you.

However, doing this removes the title from simply being a mojo/gris gris bag or servitor because the process is different, but borrows influence from both paths.

Leading me to this:

I understand appropriation is a big topic so I will say because he may not have any relationship to hoodoo the ritual process becomes something different making the mojo a “poppet” for him in his practice. Because the ritual wasn’t the same as one done by a hoodoo/conjure (wo)man it becomes a different item entirely.

I respect that. I just want it to be known that hoodoo is not voodoo and that poppets are European magic while mojos have their roots in African development in an oppressive American society.

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Hi hello! So pleased to hear your requests are open! Can I please request for a marriage au mafia style where the reader gets hurt or assaulted by the rival gang in front of him and due to being restraint he can't get to her and he cries and begs for her stop. Then thankfully Chan and the others come to the rescue and you want nothing more than to be in chnagbins arms. Maybe a lot of angst and fluff afterwards too. Can't wait to see what you come up with 💕

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Changbin

Warnings: Mention of violence and blood; cursing and language; lots of angst and some fluff at the end; mature content

Genre: Mafia AU; Established Relationship

Where are you?

It feels like a dream. The very strange sensation of that in-between state because you were incapable of distinguishing consciousness from something less than. 

Am I alive?

You must be, aware of the sensation of cold, shivers running down your spine, raising little bumps across your arms...

“Princess!”

What? Did you hear that?

“Y/N!” the voice came again. More urgently this time.

You realized then, with the grounding agency of that sound, that your eyes were closed, but it was a struggle to open them, slowly coming back from whatever had sucked you down, wincing at the dull pain in your head.

“Y/N,” the voice sighed this time. Like it was relieved to see you cognizant. “Tell me you’re okay, love.”

Love?

It hit you at that moment, the sound of the voice. One you could recognize no matter the degree of darkness holding you under, and you managed to open your eyes enough to meet Changbin’s gaze from across the room. 

“Changbin?” you questioned. Or, at least, you thought you said his name. You couldn’t be sure since the sounds around you made it seem like your head was underneath water, distorting everything, and the roof of your mouth was dry and tasteless.

“That’s right, love,” Changbin said, and you struggled to keep him in your line of vision, watching his form swim and dance in strange directions.

“I don’t feel good,” you admitted, hearing what might’ve been a sharp intake of breath.

“Where does it hurt?” Changbin asked, and you frowned at how difficult the question was since you weren’t sure how to answer it.

There was too much numbness, and you were far more concerned with restoring your senses, slowly feeling your ears open back up and the things surrounding you come into focus.

Meanwhile, Changbin was still talking. “I’ll kill them all,” he growled. “This was never supposed to happen.”

Them? you thought to yourself vacantly, gingerly turning around as much as your bindings would allow, realizing only after a brief relapse of confusion that your hands and legs were tied to the metal chair you sat on. 

“Where are we?” you asked, finding your voice amidst everything else.

“I’m not sure,” Changbin whispered, and he suddenly sat upright in his chair, eyes narrowing and features taking on that practiced hardening that you associated with your husband at his most dangerous.

But a Changbin bound and tied by seemingly impossible to escape restraints didn’t exactly scream power to you. In fact, it seemed more like a power imbalance, and you were left reeling for answers when the sound of a distant door opening and then closing filled the space between you both.

“I see you’re awake now,” an unfamiliar figure announced, voice slightly accented. He walked with an arrogant swagger, matching the exaggerated steps he took and the smirk he wore on his grizzled features. “We’ve been waiting.”

“Don’t touch her!” Changbin snapped, jerking against his restraints as the veins in his neck visibly popped in response to his obvious anger and frustration. 

“Who? The girl?” the man asked with a lazy gesturing towards you. “Then you’ll give us answers, no?”

“What do you want?” Changbin asked, and you noted how his fingers were clenched tightly against the arm rests attached to his chair.

“The new shipment of weapons,” the man said. “Your men took them from us the other night. Came in and shot my best sniper.”

Changbin sighed, clearly frustrated. “They were originally assigned to us.”

“But then we made a better deal!” the man growled. “It was my name on that contract, and you had no right to interfere.”

“Says who?” Changbin asked, fishing for more information.

“I can’t tell you that,” the man replied. “I’m only the messenger.”

“You act like it’s more than that.”

“Oh?” the man smirked. “Well, I am a big deal.”

Changbin glowered at the arrogance. “I don’t lead the organization.”

“I know, but you’re an important player,” the man continued. “And your name was everywhere when I started investigating.”

“The weapons were a necessary exchange,” Changbin argued.

“But they were ours!” the man declared passionately, and Changbin knew better than to try to argue with someone so overzealous.

“Fine,” Changbin huffed. “I’ll have my men restore the weapons.”

“Wonderful,” the man sighed, tucking his hands into his pocket. “There is one more thing, though.”

“One more?” Changbin snorted.

“I know of your importance, Mr. Seo,” the man said. “I assume that you’re someone in possession of good information.”

“Like what?”

“Like that little bar you opened downtown,” the man continued, taking another step closer. 

You froze when he pulled a knife from his pocket, studying the way the light reflected off the harsh metal. “What about it?” Changbin grumbled, eyes focused on the obvious danger in the room.

“I’m curious about its sudden success,” he said, and you shivered when he started circling your chair. “Seems like something is missing.”

“Just good business,” Changbin said, but you could tell he was trying to get one step ahead of the guy - discerning the meaning of this unexpected conversation.

“Or, you figured out how to delegitimize the competition,” the man harshly exhaled, and you whimpered when you felt the cold blade of the knife tease the sensitive skin of your neck. 

Changbin sat up just a little higher, biceps flexing against his restraints. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Obviously,” the man hissed, digging the blade just enough to draw a tiny pinprick of blood. “You’ve sent your men undercover to spy on my business! To spread rumors and lies and turn my clientele away!”

Changbin chuckled at the outrageous claim, but it was devoid of any humor. “You probably fucked your business over yourself.”

“Do you think I’m a fool?” the man growled, searing metal against flesh. “I know men like you, Mr. Seo, and I’m willing to bet that you’ve played a bigger part than what you’ve let on.”

“I have better things to do than fuck with some second rate booze club,” Changbin growled. “We’ve got clubs all over downtown. They’ve all been successful, and it has nothing to do with sending off the competition.”

Changbin smirked then, something harsh and mocking. “Maybe you’re just a really bad businessman.”

But it was the wrong thing to say, and you withheld a scream of terror when the man suddenly wrapped biting fingers into your hair. “You want to save your cocksleeve?” he growled, gripping even tighter to your aching scalp and wrenching your head back to expose your throat and the small laceration he had left there on the smooth skin. A puddle of red amidst the rest. “Tell me why you did it!”

“I can’t!” Changbin snarled in return. “My guys never stepped foot in your territory.”

“LIES!” the man roared, and you were teetering precariously in your chair, back legs lifted from the safety of the floor.

“If you hurt her,” Changbin said, and his tone was staggered and weak. “I will make sure you suffer a thousand times worse.”

The man laughed, incredulous as he looked around the room. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

Silent tears fell down your glistening cheeks as you felt the man’s warm breath against the side of your face. “Maybe violence isn’t enough for you. Maybe I need to get what I need by other means.”

Your stomach dropped at the guttural tone, trying to meet Changbin’s eyes from across the room. “You’ve been warned,” Changbin said. “The grave you’ve dug for yourself is deep enough.”

“Oh?” the man laughed. “Well, since you think you’re in such control here, let me remind of you of the reality of the situation...”

“Changbin!” you cried when you were abruptly lifted from your chair, knife cutting through the ropes binding you, sending you colliding back against the solid mass of an unfamiliar form, loose hands roaming across your torso. 

“Stop!”

Changbin’s voice was just veering on the edge of desperate, recognizing that you were in no position for him to sound anything less than serious. 

“Stop?” your captor repeated in a mocking tone, and you felt the blade of the knife return to your throat, slicing down harder and finally triggering the hair-raising scream that you had been suppressing. Trying to be brave for Changbin.

“You can’t do this!” Changbin cried, and you were amazed to see the faint rivulet of a tear stain - the mark of weakness that your husband tried so hard to suppress in this violent line of work.

If you thought about it, there were only a handful of times that you had ever seen Changbin cry.

“I’ll do anything,” Changbin whispered. “I’ll even take her place! Just don’t hurt her anymore.”

“Hmmm?” Your captor relinquished his threatening attack, and you could breath a little easier when he turned his attention back to Changbin.“What if I offer you a compromise? Tell me how you’ve managed your business affairs, and I won’t kill your little plaything.”

Changbin inhaled sharply, gaze full of a sinister rage you knew was reserved for his greatest enemies. “You’ll be screaming for a death of your own by the time I’m done with you.”

“You still don’t understand,” the man sighed, and you gasped when chapped lips brushed against your cheek. “Maybe I’ll fuck her first...”

“You won’t have the time.”

“Says who...”

He trailed off then. The last words you ever heard from your captor before an enormous explosion interrupted the tension, walls and floors shaking as dust and debris fell from the ceiling overhead.

You could feel the body behind you trembling as well, but you knew that it wasn’t from the explosion. It was from fear, and in a split second of panic, the man shoved you to the ground, and you yelped when your head collided hard against the concrete. 

You attempted to pull yourself back up, but there was something numbing and weighty keeping you on the floor, darkness swimming threateningly in front of your eyes once again.

There were familiar sounds: the sharp click of a gun, the whizzing of bullets flying overhead, and the cacophony of screams and yells.

The pain was keeping you from focusing, aware of vague figures passing in and out of your periphery, running and moving in all sorts of directions. It was chaos at its finest, and you were incapable of comprehending any of it. Instead, you could only focus on two things: the pounding of your pulse against your eardrums and the intermingled buzzing of familiar tones.

There was a hand on your shoulder, but you were incapable of responding to their call, succumbing to an irrefutable and dreamless sleep.

The first thing you noticed when you were capable of understanding your surroundings, was the silky fabric of the bed sheets.

They were smooth to the touch and you flexed your fingers around them, humming in contentment when you silted open your eyes just enough to confirm that they belonged to you and Changbin. The ones you used on the King-sized bed in your shared room.

But therein lay the problem: you were alone in the bed, and the only voices you could hear certainly didn’t match the same tone of your husband.

You swallowed hard, flinching when the motion brought attention to the thick bandage around your neck, and upon touching the material, you were bombarded with a barrage of images reminding you of everything that had happened the previous night. 

It was enough to leave you shaking, seeking some form of comfort as you roused your body just enough to turn around to the sound of those voices, recognizing Chan, your husband’s boss, and Seungmin, the residential healer.

“Chan?” you groaned, grimacing at the dryness in your mouth.

“Y/N,” he acknowledged you, rushing over to your bedside in an instant. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you said, watching as he lifted a bottle of water to hand to you.

“Drink this.”

You nodded, taking it from him. “Where’s Changbin?”

The question was met with silence, and you frowned when Chan and Seungmin exchanged quick glances. “Well, if nothing hurts, then I have other appointments,” Seungmin said, hurriedly dismissing himself from the room.

“Coward,” Chan muttered, but he was nothing but smiles for you, coming to sit down at your bedside. “Changbin...he’s busy.”

The answer wasn’t satisfactory, and your heart started beating a little faster. “Where?”

“Downstairs,” he said, and you knew exactly what that meant. 

“He brought him here?” you muttered, hating the idea of having someone like that under the same roof you called home. 

“Changbin insisted,” Chan replied, and you realized that he disapproved as well, but it still didn’t help your tender sensibilities, and you were ready to implode from the inside because you needed Changbin’s comfort.

“I need him,” you said, fixing Chan with a stern look. “Can you ask him to come up here?”

“He won’t be convinced until he’s done,” Chan said, but his gaze was soft as he leaned in closer. “I can help, if you’d like.”

It was a nice gesture, and normally you might take him up on an offer of comfort, but Chan wasn’t going to heal the turmoil bubbling inside of you.

The emotions burst forth, and your eyes had already glossed over from tears shedding themselves like dead leaves falling from a tree in the middle of a windstorm. “I just want Changbin,” you sobbed, and Chan was barely perceivable through the mess of your tears. 

You could tell Chan was upset by your dismissal, even as his fingers tried to brush away the wetness dotting your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, and it spoke to a history between the two of you that often when unsaid.

You had been given to Chan, your organization’s leader, as a peace offering from a rival mafia group. It was a cruel trade, and you resisted as much as you could, especially since, at first, you were meant to be his betrothed.

And you came into the Miroh Group with a determination to resist them to the very end.

Until Changbin stole your heart.

From there, you couldn’t believe that you had gotten so lucky, falling in love whole-heartedly, capable of forgiving Changbin’s worst sins.

Including his more sadistic tendencies.

“You can try to see him,” Chan said, seemingly satisfied after wiping away most of the evidence of your internal breakdown.

You nodded immediately, even though you understood that what you might find downstairs wouldn’t be anything comforting.

You felt a little unsteady on your feet, even with Chan helping you down the concrete steps descending into a place you tended to avoid.

The smell of alcohol and blood were both overwhelming, and you stumbled on the final step, rearing back at the sound of a truly gruesome gurgle that reminded you too much of drowning. 

In the middle of the room you managed to make out Changbin, wearing dark pants and a white t-shirt, allowing you to see all the blood painting the texture in ugly patterns.

But then your attention wandered over to the poor soul strapped to the chair, barely recognizable because of the damage caused by your husband, the one who was gaping at you while holding a knife in one hand and scissors in the other.

"Y/N,” Changbin whispered. “Why aren’t you resting?”

You shook your head, looking past the gruesome, mangled damage to see the pained expression of your former captor. 

Changbin had made good on his threat to tear the asshole apart, and your stomach rolled at the awful display of violence.

Done at the hands of the man who made the sweetest love to you in the dark recesses of your bedroom.

Still, you craved his presence, falling into his open arms as he held you close after tossing aside his tools. “Shhh,” he whispered to calm your tears.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” you sniffled.

“I’m sorry, love,” Changbin said, soothing your cries with soft cooing. 

You savored his closeness, tucking your chin over his shoulder and opening your eyes to look upon the decrepit appearance of your former captor. “What are you doing to him?” you asked, and you felt Changbin sigh as he pulled back from you.

“I know you don’t approve, love,” Changbin said, and he glanced down at his ruined t-shirt and jeans, drenched in blood. 

Under most circumstances, you would agree, but you felt your hand jumping to your throat, wrapping around the bandage covering your wound. 

Changbin frowned at the movement, likely remembering the events that led to your injuries. “Kill him,” you said, and both Changbin and Chan seemed taken aback by your response. It was completely out of character, coming from someone who often disapproved of the murderous part of their work. 

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, and you could see that he wore wariness on top of his horrified expression.

“Come upstairs soon,” you said, squeezing Changbin’s hand with your own. “I need you.”

Your husband nodded, looking at you with something akin to awe as you left the downstairs basement with Chan hot on your heels and torturous screams assaulting your ears. 

Chan only left your bedroom once Changbin arrived, showered and clean, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

“Careful,” Chan whispered to him on the way out, and you shivered.

But there was nothing that could warm you up more than Changbin, and you even managed a smile when he climbed into the bed behind you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Hi, princess,” he whispered, and you felt like bathing in the sensual tone of his voice.

“Changbin,” you sighed in return, turning around so that you could face him.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it love?” he asked, reaching out to tenderly stroke his fingers across your bandages. 

“Not anymore,” you said. “Seungmin did a good job.”

“He better,” Changbin rumbled, and you tried not to roll your eyes at your husband. 

“I was really upset earlier,” you said. “When I couldn’t find you.”

“That’s my fault, princess,” Changbin said. “I didn’t know you would wake-up so soon....and there were things I needed to take care of.”

You sighed, closing your eyes hard against a distant image of your mind conjuring the bloodied and ruined form of your captor. “Did you find out who he belonged to?”

“Yeah, a small organization under Park,” Changbin said. “He was more than willing to talk after I took one of his fingers.”

Your heart twisted at his nonchalant tone. “I guess you silenced him.”

Changbin hesitated, pausing to look at you with concern. “Are you mad at me?”

“Just...disappointed,” you said. “I couldn’t hold myself together.”

“It would’ve torn me apart,” Changbin replied. “If I let him go without making him suffer for touching my princess.”

You closed your eyes, feeling Changbin trail his fingers across your arm. “But you’re here now?”

“Of course,” Changbin agreed, leaning in to kiss you gently. “I’m yours, love. For as long as you need me to hold you.”

“Might be all night,” you said, moving up to kiss under his jaw. “I need you in a lot of ways.”

Changbin chuckled at your implications, leaving nothing to be imagined as you grazed one finger over the front of his sweatpants where his cock lay flaccid. He titled your chin at a better angle, a glaze of lust darkening his eyes. “When you feel better,” he purred. “I’ll take care of your little pussy.”

You shook at his seductive promise, curling even closer to him as Changbin’s thudding heart lulled you into a comfortable peace.

[victorious-villain]

Cujo

Haitani Brothers + Fem Reader

Platonic, kinda fluff(?)

About: The brothers get a guard dog. Oddly enough, it's nothing new to you however they treat you as more of a human than shield. They find you when your fuse runs short. 2.1k Words

Author's Note: I was actually really excited to write this. I love the Haitani bros and I felt the need to go savage so have fun y'all. Also, Reader is on the taller side for plot purposes.

Warnings: violence, gore, vulgar language, people being trash, grammar

You first met the brothers after a job. Having kept the man safe from any people that could want to harm him, he released you. Money in hand you walked away, this was your life. You'd gotten started at a young age, learning to fight in a large underground organization. All things went there, weapons and dirty tricks were commonplace. That was 2 years ago now, you'd been spotted out and recruited to guard people. Your loyalty was in your contract, nowhere else. You'd gone by the name Cujo in the ring due to your nature.

Just as the movie depicted a sweet Bernard dog going savage, you didn't look like much. You weren't some buff ex-convict, nor a speedy taekwondo specialist but you learned from them. Raw power had amassed in your years of bloodshed, your footsteps had became light to save your skin and you picked up any weapon an opponent had even attempted to raise your way. Your talent had caught the eye of a type of employer. He often watched the rings to see who if anyone had any natural talent for the streets. This meant you were the prime candidate, you didn't charge in blind nor did you boast about your skills.

He had scouted you after a fight with a man they called Bull, he had charged in head first and you'd just swayed back and forth, avoiding any sort of damage from the raging man. Finally, he got frustrated to the point where he picked up a pipe that had been left from the previous fight. Swinging it with all his power, he lunged your way. You only scowled before jumping up and planting your feet on the pipe, riding it much like you would a surf board on turbulent waves. It became lodged in the wall and you only stood there with a disinterested expression. Surprise had washed over his face moments before you jumped from the pipe and drilled your right heel into his nose.

When you landed on the ground, his face had remained under your heel and the crowd roared. You only gave a slight nod in response then left the ring, leaving your bloodied opponent to the runners who would remove people who couldn't remove themselves. Upon reaching your tent, you were quickly greeted by a knock in answering would lead you to where you were now.

Now, as you walked through the convenience store and filled your basket with a variety of junk food, protein bars and caffeinated drinks you are meet with a pair of lazy eyes over the low shelves. You keep eye contact for a moment before blinking and returning to your shopping. Ran from the other aisle only raises his eyebrows before nudging his brother in the side and jerking his head in your direction. Rindou followed his gaze and blinked twice before 'hmph'ing.

Ran walked in your direction and you only glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, unsure of what he wanted but not jumping the gun and overreacting.

"Aren't you supposed to be following around that old coon? Not a very good guard if you ask me." You glanced up, now fully acknowledging his presence.

"I was no longer needed so he ended my contract. I'm only bound by the contract, I couldn't care less about what happens after it ends. I get paid, either way." Rindou was slightly taken aback by such a nonchalant answer and the way you barely bat an eye at the Kings of Roppongi standing before you. Ran chuckled under his breath,

"That's a little harsh. Say, you seem fun. Why don't you watch our backs for a bit? If you want, you can draw up a contract or whatever makes you sleep at night." Rindou turned to his brother with a confused expression plastered on his face, his brows furrowed and began to rub against the rims of his glasses. His mouth dropped open when he heard your reply, "Sure. Let me drop my stuff off at home." Ran only smiled in response and nodded, walking behind you with a sway in his steps causing his braids to swing. Sighing, Rindou followed you and his brother to the counter. After paying and bidding the nervous cashier a good night, you led them to the studio apartment. Not that you had any artistic talent but the openness allowed you to change it all up without limitations. Placing the bag of items in a table and putting the drinks in the fridge you removed your drinks from the bag and placed them in the door before waltzing over to your desk.

Pulling out a small notebook sheet of paper you began to write before finally signing the bottom and handing it to Ran. He hadn't thought you were actually going to draw up a contract but if it got you on board, then he was game. Signing it, Ran pushed it to Rindou who -unlike his brother- read through it before carelessly assigning his scrawl to the bottom of the page.

"What the hell does this mean 'Protection and alerting services will be provided throughout the duration of accompaniment of said person(s).'?" Rindou questioned, you only gave a small shrug.

"It means what is says. While I am with you, I will do as I normally would on a job. I don't my reputation tarnished because the people I'm with are fighting. My agent would have my ass so don't complain."

Rindou frowned at your bluntness, reluctantly signing his name right next to his brothers. Nodding, you took the paper from him and scanned it with your phone; hearing a ding from the device you slipped it into your back pocket. You walked to the set of hooks near the door and retrieved a dark maroon jacket, throwing your arm into the first sleeve you looked back at the brothers who stood in the center of the room.

"You coming? We got places to be don't we?" A lazy smile stretched on Ran's face as Rindou's shoulders drooped slightly. You opened the door and the two boys walked into the hall, followed closely by you as you left for a busy night on the town.

This became a ritual for the three of you. They'd show up at the convenience store where you did your snack runs, follow you home, then you would follow them through the streets of Roppongi. These nights consisted of bringing down anyone that looked at the brothers sideways or anyone that they pointed to. This continued for about a month, and almost every night there would be someone's blood on your clothes. You didn't have to work due to your boss giving you the first break in the 2 long years you'd worked for him.

Never once had you gotten flustered or openly irritated by comments thrown your way, in your mind, this was your job. You were the Haitani's guard dog and guard dogs followed orders. However, this didn't mean you weren't peeved a majority of the time. Comments pissed you off rather easily and the way you took it in the face didn't help how far they'd go with insults, vulgarity, and general disrespect.

It was a regular night, you were particularly drained from your lack of sleep earlier and the people that night were worse then they'd been in a while. Ran could notice your professional air was slipping, words seemed to be getting through to you and anytime he would sic you on somebody you were more than enthusiastic to abide by his request. Rindou noticed this as well, and he also witnessed the moment your patience and obedience broke.

"You aren't very ladylike. Shouldn't you be staying at home instead of whoring yourself out? Being outside and fighting is the man's job." Rindou could see that thread holding you back snap, the pressure from such restraint overwhelmed you and your head became empty. Ran didn't even have the chance to blink before you had lunged forward and began pummeling the man into the sidewalk.

Blood splattered onto your face but you didn't flinch. One of the man's companions jumped into the fight with a small pocket knife brandished. You whipped around at his battle cry and pushed the blade away with your left arm and rammed remaining fist into his jaw. The man sprawled to the ground with a cry and one final man jumped into the fight from the shadow of the aisle. He raised a wooden plank he'd pulled from a nearby pallet and collided it with your head.

Rindou's teeth clenched and Ran's seemed to crack as your head whipped forward with the impact, light dribbles of blood tapping against the sidewalk and mixing with the earlier man's blood. You only laughed, shoulders shaking with every heave. After a moment of trembling laughter, you threw your head back and let loose. Howling laughter filled the echoey aisle as a crazed grin stretched across your face.

"Its been a while since I've felt pain such as this! Brings back the glory days in the ring!" Both brothers raised an eyebrow at this 'ring' you spoke of, and they became even more surprised when the man's eyes shot open and he scrambled backwards.

"You're Cujo! The Mad Dog! I heard you retired from fighting?!" You only shook your head.

"I've been working in another area of the underground you could say. I am nowhere near retired though." He stood on wobbling legs and tried to make a run for it when you launched off and tackled him to the ground. You placed a knee on the center of his back and pressed. The man below you gasped slightly as he could feel his lower body go numb and breathing become ragged. Tipping your head, -you leaned into him even more- leveling your mouth with his ear you spoke so he'd understand you very clearly.

"I'd appreciate if you kept your mouth shut about this. We don't need rumors going around that you got beat so handily by a girl, do we?" The man could barely nod and you got up allowing him to move if he chose to do so. He only laid there on the ground as feeling returned to his limbs, you now turning your back and walking towards the brothers where they stood in awe. They'd seen you fight plenty, -straight faced and on command- but this type of hot blooded insanity was a new realm to them. You left them standing there without a word that night.

You didn't know what to expect but for the brothers to be waiting at your apartment door was not it. They made themselves at home the moment you opened your door and you only waited for the questions to come pouring out.

"So.. you are Cujo?" Rindou questioned. You nodded.

"The infamous underground fighter, Cujo?" Ran asked. You nodded again.

"When were you gonna say anything?" Rindou continued. " You shrugged.

"Didn't need to so I wasn't going to." You quipped. The brothers frowned at your nonchalance.

"So you weren't going to tell us that our friend is one of the most infamous underground fighters there is?" You raised an eyebrow at Ran's words.

"Friend? I'm just employed by you. We aren't friends." To this Ran's mouth dropped open.

"Did you really think we were just dragging your around for protection?" You blinked then paused. You only really knew how to take directions anymore, but they'd never truly treated you anything other than human. In fact, you'd never been treated better. You didn't know if it had anything to do with how you'd reverted to your old ways for a moment but you suspected so.

"Then what about you accepting and utilizing my protection. Even signing the contract, that couldn't have been anything you needed." Rindou sighed,

"First off, we didn't intend on it turning out this way. Second, just because you are the guard dog, doesn't mean you aren't our friend. You not bad company and we don't have to filter ourselves around you. Not to mention you can take care of yourself plenty so we don't have to worry about you." (This was Rindou's way of saying he enjoyed your company you assumed) You then laughed, bright and loud. The brothers were taken aback by your sudden display, this was not Cujo the fighter of the underground or even the guard dog, this was you.

They both shared a quiet smile in the relaxed atmosphere as even you sank into the peaceful atmosphere. You then looked at them both and walked to your fridge, opening it and peering inside.

"So what do you guys want? I feel like staying in tonight. What do you say friends?"

[kimbap-r0ll]

Congrats reaching a milestone! Just recently found your blog through this event and I really like how inclusive your blog is♡

(I enjoy Events like this- maybe too much) Can I request both romantic and platonic match ups?

My physical appearance is fairly average. Small underdeveloped structure (kinda Chubby), deep set eyes with dark brown iris, Pale brown skin and black straight hair around armpit length. Basically just your typical south east Asian

Personality is where things get confusing. I'm a Libra, my MBTI is INTP but I think my 9w1 enneagram might complicate things a little. I'm a difficult person and it requires loads of patience to deal with me due to my secretive, detached, and insecure personality, which others may find annoying.

However, once I'm comfortable enough, I'm very loving, affectionate and supportive. A little reserved at first, but I'm talkative once I develop trust and tend to info dump out of nowhere, as I like sharing my happiness with others. My soft personality and appearance lead others to believe that I'm naive, but I'm quite perceptive. Pushing people away who continuously cross my boundaries is a Fairly easy task for me no matter how close I am with this person. Maybe because my dominant emotion is fear so I tend to be protective of myself.

Reading and drawing (I'm bad at it but I still find it enjoyable-) are my most prominent hobbies and I'm an underachiever who constantly doubts my abilities, which is why I admire hard working people who have honed their skills and know what they're capable of. Self-development is very important to me, and I wish I could change some of my terrible habits, so it will be nice to have someone to guide me and keep me grounded because I am easily distracted and discouraged. I'm bad at "trying" because putting effort into something only to be faced with failure is disheartening for me so I can sometimes be perceived as lazy due to my fear of failure.

Hello, thank you for the request! Sorry this is so late! But, I think that for you, the best matches from twst would be...

Romantic: Jamil

Look, it's Scarabia!

Jamil's the type of person that you would admire (and so would everyone else honestly that man's got everything-) and he would admire you in return. He's always worked hard to be the best at so many things, and yet he knows what his boundaries are. But with you, he sees you doing things that make you happy, even if you might doubt your abilities here and there. He likes that you are able to talk about things that you are passionate about to him, and how much you go out of your way to share happiness with others. Whenever he's stressed out or even just a bit down, you manage to get him back up. He's really thankful for having someone like you!

If you're ever worried you'll get sidetracked or discouraged, Jamil's going to make sure you're worry-free as soon as possible! He does have a tendency to keep things organized and he can be laser-focused, and that personality of his probably extends to helping others get focused again. If he ever sees you get distracted while working on homework, he won't redirect you right away, but once it passes a certain mark he might ask you to go back to the homework haha. He might do it for you tho honestly. Also, discouragement? In his presence? He might as well send it to the ends of the earth since he knows how horrible those kinds of things can be. Whenever you feel disheartened or start to feel a wave of that fear of failure, he'll stop you and look at you in the eyes. He'll tell you not to worry, that in the end the effort you put in is what matters and your abilities are worth admiring. Jamil may seem like he nags a lot at first, but he truly cares for you, and if anyone decides to make you feel discouraged, well, the guy's gonna face Jamil's venomous tongue.

Overall though, I feel like Jamil would be a good vibe with you! He's someone that loves new ideas and hearing you would be so much fun. He truly admires you for who you are!

Platonic: Leona

Look, it's Savanaclaw!

He probably thought that when you said you were lazy, you were talking about him. But he doesn't see you as being lazy at all, since you probably do more things than he does haha. More importantly however, Leona understands your fear of failure and "never being good enough" due to his own background. If anything, he wants to make sure you never feel that way, since to him you're admirable in every way. He definitely doesn't want you to get discouraged, and though he won't seem like it at first, he truly cares for you. When he sees you down, he'll grumble a bit and tell you to stop sulking since to him you aren't at all a failure. He'll probably ask you to show him a drawing if you were working on it, then he'll whistle a long tone before telling you "damn it's pretty good, herbivore." He doesn't comment a lot, but with the way he's smiling you can tell he really liked it.

I feel like he won't go out of his way to help you with bad habits or not getting distracted, but he's definitely someone you can go to if you just want to have a chill vibe. He doesn't talk a lot, but he does enjoy listening to you. Please tell him about all kinds of things, he's really interested in getting to know you (but he's too emotionally constipated to actually let you know :/). Also, he's super respectful, so he'll never overstep a boundary you have!

Overall he's like the chill and supportive friend, and honestly who wouldn't want to vibe with someone like that!

[here4theheartbreak]

Lazy Dog Mornings

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Hoseok x Jimin x Jungkook x Taehyung Genre: smut, PWP Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~3.1k

Tags: smut, PWP, puppy play, dirty talk, rough sex, knotting cock rings, discussion of breeding, D/s relationship, oral sex, anal sex, barebacking, bottom Park Jimin, puppy Park Jimin, switch Jeon Jungkook, puppy Jeon Jungkook, top Taehyung, top Hoseok, 

Summary: Taehyung brings Jimin to spend a lazy Saturday with Hoseok and Jungkook for a puppy play date.

A/N: The first of 2021′s Kinktober fics! Due to time constraints with real life, I will not be doing all 31 days for Kinktober. There are 18 fics listed at the moment for this month’s official Kinktober, scattered from today to the 31st. Between these fics I will be publishing the rest of Moonlight as I am able, so I recommend turning on notifications or AO3 notifications if you’re interested, since my normal Monday’s only posting schedule will be gone at least for the remainder of this month. Hope you enjoy! 

“Long time no see,” Hoseok rose, hugging Taehyung. 

“Right, it’s been weeks. How’ve you two been?” Taehyung asked. Jimin slipped in behind him, smiling sheepishly at Hoseok. 

“We’ve been good,” Hoseok said. He reached out, tugging Jimin’s collar. “You’re okay, you can go play. Jungkookie is in the living room. Make sure he puts his collar on if he’s gonna play with you.”

Jimin grinned broadly and rushed into the living room, forgetting to drop onto his hands and knees. Taehyung chuckled. “He’s been asking to come see Jungkook for ages.”

“He lost his phone,” Hoseok said, rolling his eyes. He laughed as he did. “We’re getting him a new one, but that’s why he’s not talked to Jimin.”

“How’s he been adjusting to the more permanent lifestyle?” Taehyung asked as they walked into the living room. 

“Not too bad. We still keep it pretty casual, especially because he does still wanna have a regular job, all that. But on weekends like this, well – aside from a video game I know a pup would never be able to play…” He tousled Jungkook’s hair as he passed. Jungkook smiled up at him sheepishly, holding his game controller a little closer to his chest. “He’s enjoying it.”

“Oh!” Taehyung patted Jimin. “Get comfy, pet – you’re safe here.”

“Can I?” Jimin asked. Taehyung nodded. 

“Me too?” Jungkook chirped. 

“Of course.” Hoseok handed him his collar. “You want a drink, Taehyung?”

“Something light,” Taehyung said. He followed Hoseok to the kitchen. “You know, I got Jimin the neatest new toy.”

“Oh?”

“I think Jungkook might really enjoy it.”

Hoseok nodded as he dug in the fridge. He passed Taehyung a bottle of yellow alcohol. “It’s sweet,” he assured him. He reached up and grabbed a bowl, as well as a stainless-steel dog bowl, and two more bottles of the alcohol. 

The two had met at a munch nearly seven years ago. Taehyung was fresh to the scene, while Hoseok had been playing a few more years. They became fast friends, sharing tips and learning new things together. It wasn’t until five years ago that they stumbled across Jimin and Jungkook, two young men in a very similar situation, at a much, and rather new to the scene. The four formed a friendship that shifted very easily and organically into something much deeper; Jimin finding Taehyung’s close age a comfort and seeking him as a more permanent partner, and Jungkook preferring the firm hand of an elder to take care of his needs. The rest, as they say, was history. Even now, years later, they rarely played outside of their loose quad, and puppy play had become the shining key in their relationship, Jimin and Jungkook taking to it instantly.

When they returned to the living room, Jungkook and Jimin had gotten themselves far more comfortable. Their clothing was in a pile nearby and they were lounging on Jungkook’s blanket on the floor, each wearing their collars and preferred tails. Jungkook’s was a sleek, whiplike black one, as well as a pair of soft, folded velveteen ears, and Jimin’s was a curly-q one, fluffy and big, dyed in a variety of bright colors. His ears were bright yellow and white, one that stood straight up, the other flopped down, with the same fluffy fur as his tail. They were both watching the television intently, some sports program Jungkook must have found. 

Hoseok crouched, pouring one bottle into each bowl. He snapped, getting their attention. “For you guys.”

Jungkook grinned and made a small noise of appreciation, rolling over and crawling to the bowl. 

Jimin yapped, pouting at Jungkook, who’s movement had disturbing his head rest. He stayed on his back for a moment before rolling to trot to his bowl as well. Hoseok smiled softly, watching the two for a minute before leaning back on the couch, sipping his drink. Taehyung moved closer to him, brushing a hand lightly over his thigh. 

“We really need to make time to hang out more often,” Taehyung commented. 

“Hm… We do.” Hoseok leaned over, his lips grazing Taehyung’s jaw. “Oh, you smell amazing.”

“A new cologne, Jiminie got it for my birthday.”

“It’s splendid. Tell me,” Hoseok set his bottle down and slid his hand up Taehyung’s thigh, squeezing firmly. “How’s work been going?”

Taehyung sighed, leaning into Hoseok. “Same old, same old,” he mumbled breathily. “My boss is sort of a jerk but I’m making due… I’m up for a promotion next month.”

“Congrats. You’ll finally be out from under his thumb if you get it.”

“Mm, that’s the hope; I’ll be his equal. I’ll have some more flexible time too, which will be nice.”

“Come visit us more often,” Hoseok suggested, beginning to press gentle kisses along Taehyung’s jaw. 

“I’d like to. Playdates for the pups at least.”

“Oh, of course… That’s the only reason,” Hoseok teased. He shifted, meeting Taehyung’s mouth in a gentle kiss. It deepened easily, their hands sliding over one another’s bodies. Taehyung shifted his hand under Hoseok’s shirt, pinching his nipple hard enough to make Hoseok hiss. 

“Tease,” he growled, nipping Taehyung’s bottom lip.

“No… Foreplay,” Taehyung promised. He moved over, nudging Hoseok’s shirt out of the way to suck a bruise onto the firm muscle of his collarbone. Hoseok moaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut. He reached out, palming Taehyung’s cock gently through his jeans, savoring the feel of it stiffening even through the thick fabric. 

His eyes fluttered open and glanced down at their pups on the floor, chuckling. 

“I think someone’s in a humpy mood,” he teased, nudging Taehyung.

Taehyung pulled away from his neck looked over to see. Jimin had mounted Jungkook and was lazily thrusting into his mouth.

“Jimin!” Taehyung hissed. 

Jimin jumped down, doing his best to look guilty and remorseful with his cock hard and wet between his thighs. Jungkook, on the other hand, pouted. He trotted up to Hoseok and rested his chin on his knees, whining softly.  

Hoseok smiled, stroking his hair. 

“Aw, I’m okay with having a breeding session if you are, Taehyungie,” Hoseok said. 

Jungkook wiggled his butt, looking expectantly at Taehyung. 

Taehyung chuckled, reaching out and tugging Jungkook’s ear playfully. “You’re really too cute for your own good. Fine. But you mount him. Minie is in trouble for coming too fast earlier this week and isn’t allowed to fuck anything.”

Jimin whined softly, spinning himself in a small circle before play bowing to Taehyung in apology. 

“Oh! Wanna try out the new toy?” Taehyung offered, pulling it out. It looked like a leather cock ring, dyed a vibrant, ruddy red. It was thick – two strips of leather at the top and bottom of the ring, connected by a thinner strip of leather that would rest at the top and underside of the cock when attached. In the middle, where the open space was, was what looked like a piece of a thick condom. Attached to the ring was a rubber tube that ran back and attached to a little hand pump coming from where the ring attached to where it connected behind the balls.

“It’s a knotting cock ring. He can pump it up when he’s coming and knot him, just like a real pup.”

Hoseok grunted in approval. “I would love to see that. Let him put it on you, Kookie.”

Jungkook nodded. He went up on his knees and set his hands on either side of Taehyung’s knees. Taehyung leaned down, attaching the cock ring to him. As he did, Jungkook snuffled over his neck and licked him, earning a laugh. Taehyung tousled his hair and flicked his cock gently.

“Go on, breed my Minie. Make sure he howls for you like a good boy,” he cooed.

Jungkook rushed back over, tackling Jimin down. The two began to wrestle around, kissing and biting at each other’s necks and mouths. 

“Is he well lubed?” Hoseok asked, palming himself through his jeans as he watched the two.

“Oh yeah, I added a lot before we came, just in case you or Jungkook wanted to use him.” Taehyung reached out, palming Hoseok himself. “Wanna fuck my mouth while we watch?”

“No, I think I’m gonna get some puppy kisses after they get going, do you mind if I use Jimin?”

“By all means… Can I breed Jungkook?”

“Please do - he’s been itching for a new cock in his hole lately.”

Jimin yelped, drawing their attention to the two on the floor. Jungkook had him pinned on his stomach, teeth digging hard into his shoulder. He’d nudged the tail plug out of the way, using the strap around Jimin’s middle to keep it on. He was rutting away, trying to sink his cock in without hands. 

“That’s a good boy,” Taehyung cooed. “You breed him. Show him who’s the boss.”

Jungkook barked and shifted, yelping himself when his cock finally plunged into Jimin’s slick asshole. 

Jimin screamed, jerking under him as Jungkook began to fuck into him, not giving him a chance to ease into it. 

Hoseok swore softly. He sank to the ground, undoing his jeans and sliding close to Jimin. 

“Come on, Minie. Be a good dog and play with a bone.” He taunted. He fisted Jimin’s hair and pulled his head up. Jimin’s cheeks were mottled, his eyes already glazed in pleasure and Jungkook used his ass. 

Hoseok slapped his cock over Jimin’s wet, plush lips. “Come on, puppy. Be good.”

Jimin whined low in his throat. He stuck his tongue out, drooling over Hoseok’s cock before letting it slide into his mouth. Hoseok moaned happily, holding his head. “Oh, good doggie,” he groaned. 

“That mouth is phenomenal, isn’t it?” Taehyung asked, crawling onto the floor with Hoseok. His own cock was pulled from his pants, wet with his own spit as he stroked himself.

“Amazing, you’ve done wonders training him, Taehyung,” Hoseok panted, fucking up into Jimin’s mouth. Jimin whimpered and groaned, his throat making small, wet gulping noises each time Hoseok’s cock penetrated it. 

“Want me to suck it?” Hoseok offered, looking at Taehyung’s cock pointedly.

“Nope, I was just getting ready. Is Kookie’s hole ready?”

Jungkook barked sharply, his grin wide enough to show most of his teeth. Hoseok laughed. 

“There’s your answer.” 

Taehyung chuckled. He pulled his pants off and went over behind Jungkook. He pulled the plug out, sliding two fingers in instead. “Oh, good boy. Ready to get filled up, huh?” 

Jungkook grumbled happily, wiggling his ass as much as he could still humping Jimin. 

“That’s it, hump my boy,” Taehyung coaxed. “Minie needs a nice thick load from a puppy like you this week, remind him what a good little breeding boy he is.”

Jungkook growled. He laid over Jimin, panting and huffing in his ear. 

Jimin moaned as well as he could, his voice cut off when Hoseok pumped his cock back into his mouth. He held his head down, eyes rolling back. “He’s gotten so much better at deep throating,” Hoseok panted.

Taehyung slid his cock slowly into Jungkook, sighing contentedly at the tight squeeze. Jungkook yipped, his body giving a pleasant little shudder. Taehyung went still, almost all the way inside Jungkook. He let his hands rest on his hips gently. Each time Jungkook thrusted into Jimin, he pulled slightly off Taehyung’s cock, and the pull out pushed him firmly back onto him. Jungkook groaned deep in his throat.

“Good boy,” Taehyung praised, stroking his sweat slicked back. “Harder you fuck my pup, the more cock you get, you’re learning.” 

Jungkook barked. He leaned down, licking a stripe up Jimin’s neck before nipping his ear and growling deep down. He began to move faster, slamming into Jimin hard enough to jerk him forward ever so slightly. The movement made him take Hoseok’s cock a little deeper as well, his shoulders jerking when he gagged on his cock. 

Jungkook picked up the hand pump, squeezing it a few times. Jimin whined, pushing his ass back further as the knot began to swell. It wasn’t enough to lock yet, slipping in and out of his ass with a slick pop. 

“Has he taken it before?” Hoseok panted, shifting to fuck up into Jimin’s mouth. 

“Not yet,” Taehyung said. He laid over Jungkook, his own hips now working to pound deep into his ass on each thrust. “He’s knotted me with it, and it felt amazing, but he’s not had a pup to give it to him.”

Hoseok moaned softly at that. “Hear that, Kookie,” he cooed, stroking Jungkook’s hair. “Gonna be the first to knot Minie’s tight little hole. How proud you should be. Give it to him good, pet… Make him howl for you.”

Jungkook barked sharply, choking back a moan. He shifted, driving his hips harder and faster into Jimin’s ass. 

Jimin shouted around Hoseok’s cock, his tears sliding down his cheeks. Hoseok looked at him, giving a thumbs up in question. Jimin nodded as well as he could, wrapping his lips tightly around Hoseok’s cock and sucking hard even as he gagged.

Jungkook began to pant more erratically, his hips working wildly. He snarled huffed and whined, biting down on Jimin’s shoulder lightly. He grabbed the pump, squeezing it each time he thrust forward. 

Finally, Jimin yelped and Jungkook went still, spinning his hips in tiny little circles. He leaned his head back, mouth open as his body jerked gently with the force of Taehyung’s thrusts. 

“That’s a good boy,” Taehyung purred, holding Jungkook’s hips. “You breeding my boy? Hm? Filling my pup full?”

Jungkook let his tongue hang out, his eyes going a little unfocused. The sight was stunning. 

Hoseok swore softly. He shifted and thrusted hard and fast into Jimin’s mouth. He could feel drool dribbling down his cock as Jimin struggled to take him. 

“Relax, Minie,” he panted. “Just let me in, I’ll give you a yummy treat, just let it happen, oh, fuck—” Hoseok gritted his teeth. He drove his cock into Jimin’s mouth, feeling his throat clench and convulse around his tip. He held his head, his cock spurting ropes of come. 

Hoseok released Jimin’s head, letting him pull back. Drool and come spilled from his mouth and over his chin and he coughed and gagged. He went back immediately, lapping at Hoseok’s cock to clean it. Hoseok smiled softly, stroking his hair. “Such a good boy,” he cooed. 

Jungkook grunted, baring his teeth as Taehyung pounded into him, his nails biting into Jungkook’s hips. 

Taehyung shuddered, his thrusts breaking their rhythm as he neared his orgasm. He tossed his head back, grunting as he came, still driving into Jungkook’s ass as he did. Jungkook grinned broadly, looking back at Taehyung and barking once sharply. 

“Yeah, I know… Good boy,” Taehyung panted, patting his ass. 

“I think Minie needs to come still,” Hoseok worried, leaning down to stroke Jimin’s cock, leaking and hard.

“Aw, you didn’t come from being bred?” Taehyung asked. 

Jimin shook his head in something resembling a no and whined, thrusting forward into Hoseok’s hand as much as he could still tied to Jungkook’s cock. 

“I’ll milk him,” Hoseok offered. He kissed Jimin’s cheek and forehead gently. Letting go of Jimin’s cock for a moment, he swiped his hand through the come and spit from their earlier activities still on Jimin’s face, using it to ease his hand as he began to stroke Jimin with a firm, sure grip.

“Come on, pup – let it out. We gotta get you to come or you’ll get pent up, won’t we?” He coaxed, his voice soft and soothing. 

“Such a good boy, Minie,” Taehyung added, reaching out to stroke Jimin’s back. “Didn’t come without permission, you’re getting so good at that. You have permission now, puppy – you can come any time you need.”

“He is a good boy,” Hoseok agreed. Jimin smiled crookedly, letting his tongue hang out even as his eyelids fluttered. “Holding his come until we’re ready to milk it out of him. Taking Kookie’s knot all the way, taking me without so much as a complaint or a nip. You’re such a good boy, Minie.” Hoseok stroked his cheek gently, his hand working fast along the length of his cock. 

Jungkook snuffled against Jimin’s ear, whining and woofing softly. He licked a stripe up his cheek and Jimin turned his head, meeting Jungkook’s mouth in a kiss that was more tongue and teeth. 

Jimin broke the kiss to hiss, his hips twitching wildly. 

“That’s it,” Taehyung coaxed. “Let it come. Come for Hobi, Minie.” Taehyung slowly pulled his softened cock from Jungkook’s ass, slipping the tail plug back in. Jungkook let the air from the knot, pulling himself free. He crouched down, sliding his tongue deep into Jimin’s gaping hole to catch the come as it dribbled out.

Jimin groaned at that, thrusting back against Jungkook’s tongue. His eyes rolled back a little, mouth hanging open. 

“Come on, such a good boy, come for me, Minie, come on, let it all out.” Hoseok praised.

Jimin yipped, his entire body shuddering. Jungkook leaned up and pushed his tail plug back in, biting his ass playfully. Jimin’s cock jerked in Hoseok’s hand and began to spurt ropes of come onto his hand and the floor. 

“Oh, good boy,” both Taehyung and Hoseok praised as Hoseok milked his orgasm from him. When he could get no more, Hoseok pulled his hand back and both Jimin and Jungkook went forward, licking the come from it. They shared another messy kiss afterward, nipping each other’s mouths.

Hoseok settled back onto the couch, wiping his hand free of saliva and come, and tucking himself back into his jeans.

“That was very needed,” Taehyung said, slumping on the couch after putting himself away. 

“Most definitely,” Hoseok agreed, watching the two cuddle on the floor. “You boys wanna get a bath?” He offered. “After we can all take a nice nap together and then go out to dinner?”

Jimin and Jungkook untangled themselves from each other and rushed up to the two, wagging their tails as fast as they could manage. 

Taehyung laughed brightly. “Guess that’s a yes.”

The two rose and led Jimin and Jungkook down to the bathroom. Deciding it was far easier, they got the others up on their feet and showered two by two, sharing gentle kisses and touches as they passed. 

After their showers, Jungkook and Jimin were permitted to remove their plugs, leaving their ears and collars on. Hoseok let Taehyung borrow a pair of sleeping pants, and all four curled up on Hoseok and Jungkook’s bed. It was a tight fit, not that they minded; the closeness was comforting for Jimin and Jungkook after playtime, and Taehyung and Hoseok were happy to give them all they needed. They knew they weren’t in the most traditional relationship, but it didn’t bother them. They were happy, and they found joy in the small things. That was what really mattered. 

[twistedtummies2]

Birthday Belly (LeonaXReader)

I wrote this yesterday for my own birthday. I didn’t really go into this with much of a plan, this story is 99% just me freestyling and whipping out some self-indulgent nonsense involving Leona Kingscholar and his appetite. It came out to about 4000 words, which is relatively short for MY stories on here. XD Hopefully you all will enjoy it.

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

Living at the Ramshackle Dorm had, you thought, left you almost impervious to surprises. The 999 Happy Haunts who inhabited the old manor house had tried nearly every trick up their capes to spook you and shock you, and after dealing with so many dark mages for so long – facing demigods and fairy princes along the way – you didn’t think much could startle you. Today, you were going to be proven wrong. You sighed with some relief, removing your obligatory birthday sash and letting it drape over the arm-rest of the sofa as he leaned back and closed your eyes. Back in your homeworld, you had never really been much of a party person. You had never much cared for crowds, even among people you knew well; part of the joy of being one of only two (living) beings who called Ravenswood Manor home was that you were able to find privacy and peace fairly easily. However, despite not being a mage, and despite being so lonely there, your friends and the school itself had gone to a great deal of trouble to provide you with a party. You smiled wearily as you eyed the streamers and other decorations strung about your ground floor rooms. A huge banner reading “Happy Birthday…!” and followed by your name was hung over the fireplace, and piled up next to the spot where you’d installed your television and other such things was a stack of presents you had gotten from all your friends.

Ace had given you a set of playing cards and poker chips, winking as he promised to give you a chance to put them to use. Deuce, meanwhile, had been much more sensible, purchasing some cooking apparel he knew you could put to good use. Riddle Rosehearts, meanwhile, brought you some cherry tarts he and Trey had made together. Cater Diamond also appeared, and had bought a new external drive for your laptop computer. “I would have gotten you a new phone,” Cater had smiled. “But I didn’t think you needed one. Speaking of, BIRTHDAY SELFIE! COME ON OVER HERE…!” Idia hadn’t stayed for the party, but his brother Ortho had been happy to pop in. The two had pitched their cash together to buy you a new game system, along with a new game to play on it. Idia had personally sent a birthday card, as well; according to Ortho, his hands had been shaking so much trying to figure out what to write in it, he thought his brother’s fingers might fall off. All Idia had written in the card was, “Have a nice day,” probably because he had freaked out at the thought of saying anything else. Poor dear. Somebody – you weren’t sure who – had very, VERY wisely remembered to invite Malleus Draconia, who came with Silver. Silver spent most of the party sleeping, but Malleus had been kind enough to bestow a gift of his own, in the form of a leatherbound edition of The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe. Naturally, Kalim had shown up, tugging Jamil along behind him. Each had a different gift to give: Kalim had brought a VERY expensive looking carpet, done in the ornate styling of his homeland. “It’s been in my family for…um…uh…” he had paused to try and count the years on his fingers…and eventually ran out of fingers AND toes to count on. “…A very, very long time! Like…SUPER long! I thought it might look nice in your bedroom or the ballroom or something! It’s, uh…it’s not too much, is it?” Gods bless that Baby Otter. He needed so many hugs. Jamil’s gift had been much more reserved: a mancala game box, which he had presented all while trying not to blush under his black hood. Vil had stopped by for a short while; he’d only stayed briefly, claiming the “decadent atmosphere of your gloomy domicile” would mess up his hairdo. (Go figure.) However, he had kindly brought you a gift in the form of custom-made suit of clothes he had ordered from his own personal tailor: some of the finest and most formal wear you had ever seen in your life. “Now you can actually look halfway presentable, instead of resembling a half-baked potato, next time there’s a big event,” he had smiled, as if he had been doing you a tremendous favor. Well. With clothes like this, you weren’t going to argue or complain. Azul had stopped for a brief “hello and goodbye” visit; he actually wanted to stay longer – Floyd, who had been with him, seemed particularly sad he couldn’t stay and squeeze his favorite “Little Shrimp” half to death all afternoon and evening…and in his case, that phrase was probably literal – but the Mostro Lounge was open that day, and he didn’t want to leave Jade in charge of things alone for TOO long at the office. The octopus man had brought you a bracelet covered in small seashells: simple, but surprisingly sweeter than you had expected. Floyd, meanwhile…he just hugged you. “What’s a better present for Shrimpy than a nice, tight SQUEEZE from their bestest, most favorite eel-person…riiiiiiight?” The safety of your spine and lungs demanded you agree and hug Floyd back. Ruggie and Jack had been among the first to show up. The latter had brought a hastily-wrapped DVD: a movie entitled “The Wolf of Pumpkin Hollow.” “I didn’t get this because I actually care,” he had clarified, looking everywhere but at your face and scratching the back of his white-eared head. “Just…everyone else would have thought it was rude if I didn’t get you something. Not that it matters what they think! Just…didn’t want to have to put up with it.” He was such a puppy. He truly was. Not only was Ruggie one of the first to arrive, he turned out to be THE first to give you your gift: a box of doughnuts. All glazed. “My grandma used to tell me: ‘Ruggie, get people the same kinds of gifts you’d want them to get you.’ Well, I can’t think of much I want more than doughnuts!” he sang out with an innocent smile. “You just wanted to have some to eat yourself, didn’t you?” you couldn’t help but smirk. Ruggie had gasped, seemingly offended…only to eventually ask if he could have some. The four remaining doughnuts – which you had to sneak away while the hyena wasn’t looking – were now on a plate in your fridge. You’d eat them later. Others had come and gone throughout the day; none of them had gifts to bring, but they had been happy to pop in, give well-wishes, and enjoy the party for a while. Now, however, all the guests were gone; even Grim had left, as you had asked him for some alone time that night. He and the gang from Heartslabyul were going to have a sleepover as a result. Despite the smile on your face as you looked over at your gifts, there was a hint of sadness to your expression. The one person whose presence you’d been looking forward to most hadn’t come. You’d asked his dorm-mates if they knew where he was or what he was doing, but none of them told you. Most of them very clearly had no clue…except for Ruggie. You got the feeling he DID know, he just wasn’t telling. Honestly, that didn’t settle your mind much. Your smile faded completely, and you closed your eyes once more, sighing through your nose…this time with a hint of despondency. Had he forgotten it was your birthday? Was he with somebody else right now? Maybe he was sleeping somewhere, like the big, lazy kit he was…some part of you – you couldn’t tell what part – kind of hoped that was all it was. He probably wasn’t hurt or sick…if he had been you’d think Ruggie would have told you… You glanced out the window. Evening was turning into night. You huffed softly through your nostrils, and stretched a bit where you sat. The party had worn you out more than you thought. You shook your head to clear it of your more perturbing thoughts, and began to wonder if you should just get to bed early tonight… A knock came at the door, jolting you to a more attentive state. You stood up from the ouch and headed out through the hall to the foyer. You wondered who it was…had one of the guests left something behind? As you approached the door, you adjusted your pristine white suit – another obligatory item for those celebrating a birthday at Night Raven College – which must have made whoever was on the other side impatient: they knocked again. “One moment, I’m here!” you called out, and opened the door. “Who’s-?” You froze, the word “there” dying before it ever reached your larynx. The first thing your eyes took in was the familiar, dimly-glowing pair of green ones staring back at you, as well as the dark mane and leonine ears and tail that accompanied their owner. A scar was slashed across one of the two eyes. The second thing – and the one that truly made you freeze – was the ENORMOUS, bare belly that was only inches away from you. The skin was tanned and smooth and supple-looking, the organ swollen to the size of a large watermelon, and only slightly less taut. The navel looked like the center of a maelstrom, drawing your attention towards that bloated gut as it let out a deep, burbling rumble…just before a black-clad hand slapped over it, hiding it from sight. At the same time, another hand suddenly scooped itself under your chin…and you found your head being tilted up, your eyes now locking on a pair of perfect-looking, velvety lips…which then parted to reveal a gaping, red mouth, dripping with saliva and framed by two rows of pointed, pearly fangs. You barely had time to take in the view of this glistening, slimy orifice…before your ears rang and your nose crinkled as two words were burped up. Right in your face. “HAAAAPPY…BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP-DAY!” The belch was followed by a light sigh and a chuckle as Leona Kingscholar patted his stomach proudly. It jiggled at his touch. He smirked as he took in your expression: a loopy, flushed look was on your face. You were swaying so much that if he removed his hand from under your chin at that moment, you might have just toppled over. “Hm-hm-hmmm…did you like that?” he purred, smoothly. You nodded dumbly, still smiling a loopy, dazed smile as the sound reverberated in your ears, and your nose tingled from the lingering odor of the lion’s gut gas: a strong, heady, meaty smell that twined through the pockets of your gray matter, practically putting you in a trance for several long seconds. Finally, you found your voice. “…Where have you been?” “Preparing your present,” Leona said, as if that should have been obvious, and gently nudged you back as he entered the house and swaggered past you. With every step, his hips swung, and you found your blush seemed to be permanent as you watched them rock and sway as he strutted towards the living room. You followed him as if a leash had been tied ‘round your neck, and watched as he flopped onto your couch, gut sloshing with every little motion of his form. He was dressed in his usual clothes, but his gut was so massive it caused his mustard-colored shirt to ride up, exposing his belly to the world. The lion demi growled as he reached down; his waistband was still buttoned up, and clearly it was causing him discomfort. His fingers fumbled for the belt buckle…and he frowned as he couldn’t quite get it to cooperate. “Tch. Figures,” he grumbled. “After that entrance…pain in my ass…” The familiar phrase snapped you out of your stupor, and you chuckled, rolling your eyes. You sat down next to your princely boyfriend, and shooed his hands away. He frowned, growling indignantly, but allowed you to fiddle with his buckle, and finally managed to work it off… POPK! ZZZRRRIIIP! GUHBLORLSH! Leona let out a sound between a sigh and a grunt as – the moment the buckle was released – his trouser button gave up the ghost, popping open as the zipper flew down, the sheer weight and pressure of his belly forcing them open. He sighed as his belly poured into his lap like a mass of mocha-colored dough, wobbling as it noisily burbled. “UUUUUUUURRRRRRRROOOOOOOOAAAARRRRRRRP!” he belted out. “Oof…that felt good…” You blushed bright red, helpless to do anything but nod; you were already starting to tremble at so many…APPEALING things happening all at once. Leona smirked anew as he noticed your expression, leaning back a little further against the sofa cushions as his scarred eye flashed with a superior gleam. “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?” “How much did you eat?” you asked, marveling at the size of his belly as you fingers fidgeted and twitched, looking for something to do. You suddenly felt a little parched… “Mmmmm…not enough,” Leona growled, and grinned wider, revealing his pointed teeth. “I could fit more in there, I’m sure…” He licked his lips in a sultry, almost inviting way. You couldn’t keep yourself from letting out a shaky, shuddering sound as you shivered, a mixture of warmth and cold flickering across your spine. Leona chuckled – his gut bounced with his mirth, and tilted his head back with a sigh. “Ahhhhhh…went to my favorite buffet and helped myself,” he elaborated as he gave his belly a few hearty slaps. “Pure meat, every ounce.” You nodded slowly, dumbly. Leona snorted through his nose, raising an eyebrow as he saw you openly ogle his stomach. “Hmph. Are you just gonna stare at it all night, Herbivore?” he grunted. He waited till you looked up at him before going on: “Go ahead. It’s not gonna rub itself.” Your heartbeat quickened and you smiled widely. Leona grimaced and snarled. “Oi…just rub, don’t gimme those eyes…you look like that brat back home…” You chuckled – it was hard not to giggle, honestly – and gratefully helped yourself to your “present.” Your hands quickly fell over Leona’s bloated gut as he stretched his arms over the back of the couch. You scooted closer, and quivered at the intense warmth of the half-lion’s greedy, globular gut. Your palms and fingers began to lightly run across his girth, stroking his belly, just to get a feel of the texture and temperature. His flesh was silky-smooth, making it so hard to resist just pressing your face against it and nuzzling into his belly… You did resist though. At least for the moment. Instead, your fingers began to knead and massage the belly of your beau, pressing down onto the thick soup you could feel churning away inside his bowels. You prodded experimentally, almost as if trying to distinguish each bit of food from the next…but there was no way you could. Whatever Leona had gobbled up was now little more than a uniform mush being swirled about by his strong stomach muscles. His insides warbled and rumbled, as if in response to your ministrations. Leona sighed, closing his eyes and savoring the way you massaged his distended tanker. In truth, the lazy lion didn’t need much of an excuse to stuff himself…but you didn’t care that much. Whether he did this for himself, or for you, as he claimed, the end result was the same. “Mmmmm…that’s it…keep it up,” he mumbled. “Wasn’t planning on stopping,” you said, more to yourself than him, but he snickered anyway. “Heh heh…good. Prey like you should be happy to have a chance like this,” he said, and playfully patted your cheek, causing your blush to intensify. A spike of ego shot up in you, and you purposefully pressed down harder against his stomach. It let out a HUMONGOUS groan, and Leona’s eyes widened and his cheeks ballooned…before he let out another sloppy, rumbling belch. “BUUUUUUUHHHHHHHUUUUUUUURRRRRRLLLLLLLUUUUUUP! Haaah…oi. Not so rough,” he growled, narrowing his eyes at you, tail lashing and thumping against the sofa cushions. “Sorry,” you smiled innocently. “You had so much hot air in there, it clearly had to be let out.” Leona’s eyes narrowed further. “I could turn you into dust right here and right now,” he said, warningly. “I guess you could,” you said, smoothly, and then traced a finger around the rim of his deep, dark trench of a navel. The effect was instantaneous. Leona tensed up for a second, inhaling sharply through his teeth…then sighed and relaxed, all but melting into his seat, eyes fluttering closed again as he purred louder than ever. You smirked triumphantly, as you stuck your finger into his navel and wiggled it around a bit. “Still want to turn me into dust?” you teased. Leona could only moan. He moaned even louder as you cupped one hand on the underside of his belly: the softest, warmest, most sensitive portion of his abdomen. You gently rubbed your hand against them, and traced your fingers over his sides. You could hear his toes curl in his boots; his tail you could SEE curl into a spiral shape as he bit his lip with pleasure. “I’ll take that as a no,” you observed, a dreamy sort of sigh upon your lips as you were honestly enjoying this just as much as he was, a fact you made clear you when you half-consciously murmured: “You’re so SOFT…” “Mmmm…I’ll be softer once it’s all digested,” Leona mumbled. “Vargas is probably gonna complain…think he’d pester me about that stuff if I ate ‘im?” “I think if you ate Coach Vargas, you’d just get a bellyache,” you said, not wanting to add that someone as egotistical as Leona eating someone as showboating as Vargas probably meant all the weight would to his head… …Cracks like that weren’t funny, and could get you bitten. The second part you didn’t mind as much as one might think, to be fair. …You really needed to see a shrink… Leona just scoffed, unaware of your thoughts as you continued to rub and massage his belly. You gave the side of his belly a few hearty thumps, watching the way his belly shifted and jiggled like a water balloon. His stomach groaned and churned rhythmically, squelches and squeals of liquid being compressed and stirred echoing just beneath the luscious skin of the half-lion prince. It sounded like a huge vat of semi-solid mash being pumped and processed in a factory…a sound some might have considered nauseating, but you just bit your lip, rubbing and kneading more vigorously as you heard pockets of gas being released. As you kneaded and pressed down, Leona would BELCH and BURP periodically. Each was short and low, which only made you rub his gut more vigorously. He gave you a bored sort of look as he realized what you were doing. “Didn’t get enough to drink at your party, did you, you thirsty little Herbivore?” “Not even close,” you responded, without skipping a beat. Leona rolled his eyes, and held up a finger in a “one moment” gesture. He then curled that same finger down, balling that hand into a fist…and pumped his fist against his chest once, twice, thrice…before unleashing a true wall-rattler, which flapped his lips and made him go crosseyed. “GYYYYUUUUUHHHHHEEEEERRRRRWWWOOOOAAAAARRRRRIIIIIPLK!” Leona sighed as the eruption came to an end, and snorted as you squeaked at the sound. “Happy now?” he drawled boredly. “Very,” you peeped, patting his belly thankfully. Leona rolled his eyes as he scratched the side of his gut with his leather-tipped fingers, making it slosh under your palm. You quivered. His lips quirked. “Tch. You’re such a snack,” he muttered. “It’s amazing nobody’s already gobbled you up…” “Just lucky so far, I guess,” you shrugged, and scratched his belly with your own fingers. Leona let out a non-committal rumble…then smirked a bit. “We could fix that, you know,” he purred in a slippery, sly way. You froze, and looked up at him slowly, a little confused and slightly apprehensive. Leona smiled back, eyes half-lidded; the dominant, powerful, but affectionately amused smile that always left you shivering for all the right reasons. Then, one of his his hands lifted, and cupped your cheek. He brushed a thumb against it, and you smiled gently back… …Just before that same hand slid forward, and wrapped around the back of your head. “Here,” he growled, commandingly, as he began to force you downwards. “Listen. Feel.” You didn’t have much choice, and it wasn’t as if you would disobey if you could. You surrendered easily as he eased you down against his belly, pressing your head down and holding it firmly, curling his hand so one of your was right above his navel. You felt your chest flutter as the warmth of his body was now right up against your face, and the deep, thick GRRRROOOOLLLLLLG sounds of his ever-hungry belly echoed in your ear like rolling thunder. You stayed perfectly still; time and place seemed to fade into nothingness. All that mattered was the moment: you were hypnotized by his belly, barely conscious of anything. He started speaking, but it took you a few seconds to realize what he was even saying. “…I’d you’d like it, huh?” were the first words you made out, followed by still more: “I could swallow you alive, Herbivore. You’d slither right down my throat, curl up in my stomach…and never come out. I’d just fall asleep, and let you stay there. It wouldn’t have to hurt: one big burp, and your air would be history. Then, you’d go straight to my hips…my thighs…my ass…even my belly. Every part of me you love most.” He paused, purring as his stomach let out a greedy, longing rumble. “How does that sound for your birthday, Herbivore?” he crooned. “How would you like to spend your birthday – your LAST birthday – turning into more of the body you’re so in love with. To be the snack you’re supposed to be. To spend the rest of eternity as just a part of me.” None of these were spoken as questions. You shivered and let out a whimpering sound – not necessarily one of fear, either – as you heard him lick and smack his lips. He leaned down and sniffed at you, purring in the back of his throat. “Mmmmmmm…I could make that happen. Right here. Right now.” You bit your lip; as his stomach rumbled, you closed your eyes. You could picture yourself inside of there…partially submerged in acid and bubbling goo…embraced on every side by his powerful muscles…hearing him belch with satisfaction above and around you…rubbing over you as you were steadily digestedinside of him… You took longer than most people probably would before speaking. “I know you could,” you said, very softly, then added, “Maybe someday you will.” Leona blinked…then puffed with amusement, his smile growing slightly more affectionate as he ran his fingers through your hair the way a cat might. “Not ready to make this birthday your last, huh?” You opened one eye and carefully shook your head. “If it means next year I could get one as good as this, or better, definitely not,” you responded, without skipping a beat. Leona clucked his tongue, and removed his hand, letting it rest against the back of the sofa. He chuffed as your remained where you were, despite no longer being forced down. “Kinky little morsel,” he mumbled. “Guilty,” you responded in a slightly muffled voice as you freely nuzzled his abdomen, smirking as he purred anew, clearly enjoying it. Leona chuckled, and nudged you, indicating he wanted you to look up at him again. You did…and watched as his cheeks ballooned with gas as he caught a particularly low, gassy burp in his mouth… “HHHHRRRRMMMMLLLLRRRRPH…phoosh.” …Before blowing the residual fumes into your face, almost like a kiss. You nearly fainted dead away. Leona grinned. “Good?” was all he said. “Marry me now.” Leona barked out a laugh and gave your hair a ruffling, then shut his eyes and reclined peacefully once more. “Get back to rubbing, meat,” he growled. “Or I might just swallow you whether you want it or not. Don’t let your gift go to waste.” You smiled and eagerly got back to work, kissing and nuzzling and rubbing his belly worshipfully, without any sign of restraint. Leona’s purring heightened as you pampered his plumpened middle. “Mmmmm…happy birthday, Herbivore,” he growled. “Maybe next year, I’ll add you to my hips…” At the rate things were going…that was starting to sound like a promise more than anything else. If so…you could hardly wait till next year.

 The End

[themadauthorshatter]

... I think you guys are going to like this.

358/2 Days REWRITE Part 2

Riku is around, but he's all over the place, and he has a mission: Find and capture either Roxas or Xion, unless he CAN manage both, so DiZ can use them to help Sora recover. He's on a time limit, though, because Sora's heart is damaged and the longer Roxas and Xion are around, the less likely Sora is to waking up or even sleeping; I mean, he'll BE sleeping, but it'll be much quieter and it will be absolutely pointless to try waking him up.

For the first few days or months, he keeps his distance, trying to decide who he's picking, sadly.

Pros of bringing Roxas to DiZ: He has the closest connection to Sora, being his nobody, he's got the keyblade, Riku can probably take him one v. one, if there are any problems, he just needs to get a reaction out of 'Sora.'

CONS of bringing to Roxas to DiZ: Have fun trying to run from the remaining Organization members, he'll have to avoid Non-form or he'll get beaten all to Hell, he runs the risk of hurting his friend for reals, Roxas is rarely alone, Roxas is one hell of a runner and fighter, he'll just feel bad.

Pros of bringing Xion to DiZ: She has more 'keyblade' potential, maybe her voice will help wake up Sora(?), she looks and sounds like Kairi, Naminé gets a new friend(as long as DiZ doesn't decide to throw her away).

CONS of bringing Xion to DiZ: She looks and sounds like Kairi, she's crazy skilled, she hits hard, she's laughable when she's mad, but it's gut wrenching to see her cry or be hurt, she looks and sounds like Kairi, Naminé is probably getting Thanosed when DiZ is done with her because he's a dick right now, so giving Xion to her as a friend will mean nothing, the connection to Kairi, he'll feel bad.

As you can tell, Riku is great at making decisions(sarcasm)

While he's too caught up to do anything, let's check on the sea salt trio, who are getting closer as friends, i.e. seeing Hayner, Pence, and Olette do stupid stuff a KH equivalent of TikTok, which the trio repeats on their own without a phone recording them, eating ice cream, talking, and exploring the Disney worlds for fun, both old ones and new ones that will appear in future games.

In this time, Xion becomes a mix of Kairi and Naminé, outspoken, but careful with who she runs her mouth to, smart, but still open to learn, protective and still needs something if a protector, etc. She is also a wickedly fast learner.

We also get organization shenanigans like Demyx being lazy on missions, Roxas getting annoyed at Xigbar for calling him tiger, dealing with  Saïx, trying not to annoy Xaldin, even getting head pats from Xemnas, and, for fluff, Roxas and Xion finding Axel asleep on the floor of the clock tower and the two scaring him away for shits and giggles. 

Yes, a lot of time passes, about 9-11 months, give or take.

Roxas and Xion also become closer as well with Axel being something like their chaperone, only he reports to Xemnas and Saïx.

Speaking of Saïx, he meets up with Axel one day and expresses disdain with the fact Axel would rather be friends with an unstable Roxas and a literal puppet that doesn't even exist.

Axel, on edge already with Xemnas on his back, tells Saïx to put a cork in it. Saïx only pushes back, asking if Roxas even KNOWS what Xion is, even what HE is. To both their credit, the two are wonderful at playing make believe and Axel, being the child he is, is a great at being their playmate.

Axel shoves Saïx back, snapping for him to shut his mouth before he says something he'll regret. Saïx, losing his composure, shoves back, asking if he should because Axel can't handle the truth; he never has been good at it, so it's not surprising.

Ring a bell, someone, please, because Axel throws a punch into Saïx's cheekbone. Saïx returns with a left hook directly to the side of the neck and knees Axel, who grabs his leg under his knee and rolls, making them both fall and throw more punches on the ground, bruising and bloodying each other in full view of the remaining organization members. Maybe we get a gag of Xigbar and Luxord placing bets on who will win, Demyx worrying because they should probably be stopped, Xaldin scoffing at the immature display, and then Roxas and Xion walking in and instantly getting worried because Axel is not winning this fight, as evidenced by Saïx slamming his head into the floor.

When the two stand up to keep fighting, Roxas and Xion race between them, the boy in front of Saïx and a very nervous Xion in front of Axel, who tells her and Roxas to stay out of this or they'll get hurt.

Roxas obviously refuses, but Xion leads Axel away from Saïx, who asks if Axel really needs children to protect him.

No, he needs to protect these two idiots, especially Roxas, who hasn't moved and his eyes have gone Non-form-y, like he's about to transform.

Saïx returns with berserker eyes and smashes Roxas into the wall by his neck, daring him to try it.

It draws a gasp from EVRYONE, even Xaldin, but Saïx scoffs that they shouldn't try pretending to be worried, what with how unstable and how much of a nuisance Roxas is, not too mention weak, which he says while watching Roxas try to break free. He kicks at Saïx, and misses, but Saïx smirks and summons his claymore, wanting to see how tough Roxas really is.

There's a reason Xion pulled Axel away and is so nervous, because said reason puts a hand on Saïx's shoulder and asks him if he enjoys this façade of a life and would rather not disappear.

Yep. Xemnas is here, and everyone backs down, including the the bet making Xigbar and Luxord, who so they can have deniability.

Saïx snaps out of berserk mode in the blink of an eye and begrudgingly lets go of Roxas, i.e. lets him drop down.

Axel and Xion start toward him, but freeze when Xemnas eyes them, like scary eyes.

He has an announcement: There's an imposter and he could be anywhere. He's in a coat just like everyone else's, but his hood's usually up. When he's not wearing it, he's a silver haired teen. Oh, yeah, and his name is Riku.

Axel, Roxas, and Xion all gasp, Axel because Riku was in Castle Oblivion and probably knows where Sora is and Roxas and Xion because it brings back memories from Sora.

Xemnas sees the reaction, but only focuses on Roxas, asking softly if he's okay and if he was hurt.

He's fine and he wasn't and he shakes his head to chase away Non-form.

Xemnas still helps him up and orders everyone to keep their eyes open and report ANYTHING on this imposter because the sooner they catch and... well, just catch him, the better, that part being Xemnas not wanting to upset Roxas, make him go into Non-form, and have everyone need to knock him out to calm him down.

Xemnas takes Roxas away to be checked on, in case he was really hurt and doesn't know it, and Roxas asks what will happen to Saïx and Axel for fighting. He didn't see a lot of it, so he’s not even sure who started it.

They’ll be 'interviewed' and reprimanded accordingly, but they won't die, so relax.

What about the imposter? Who's Riku? And who's Sora??

Xemnas stops checking on Roxas and puts a hand on his head, which he doesn't need to worry about because the organization can deal with it. All he needs to do is keep doing missions and giving his 100%. Roxas sighs that he IS, hell he's giving 150% because Non-form's acting up, but he's kept it calm, even with the hallucinations of Sora, Ven, and now Non-form.

Xemnas finishes checking for any wounds and commends Roxas, saying that is why he chose him. Before Roxas can ask, Xemnas tells him to go in the lobby because he has a mission with Xaldin.

Roxas does so and passes by and reassuring Axel and glaring Saïx, though Roxas glares back.

Xemnas has the two sit down and that warmth he had with Roxas is GONE IN A SECOND, asking both of them what they were thinking, picking a fight in front of everyone and endangering the two most vital components to the plan. Saïx jabs that Axel is letting himself be distracted while Axel states he's doing his job and doesn't want either of them to get upset or angry to the point of dysfunctionality. Besides, He did not start that fight, which he didn't even WANT to partake in.

Does Axel have legs? For now he does, yes. Can he stand? Yes. Can he DEMONSTRATE that he can stand? This is getting tedious, but sure, and Axel stands. Now can he walk from where he is to the far wall? Again, this is tedious, but yes.

If he did ALL OF THAT, why didn't he actually do it?

With no words, Xemnas dismisses Axel, telling him to accompany Xion on their mission.

Axel nods and leaves Saïx to be scolded.

We cut to Riku as he watches Roxas and Xaldin fight of heartless and some knights in Beast's Castle, maybe even go toe to toe with Beast himself, who manages to catch Roxas off guard and momentarily confuses him with Sora.

Xaldin knocks him away and the two leave, Riku coming out and asking if that smaller nobody really was Sora.

Beast admits it was a spur of the moment, but he could have sworn it was Sora.

Meanwhile, Xion and Axel fight hard in Hollow Bastion, squaring off against Squall, Yuffie, Tifa, and Cloud, where we see both more of Axel's gymnastics and Xion's ability with a keyblade.

The fight ends when Xion stops who she believes is Riku the imposter and chases after him, Axel following her in case shit hits the fan.

Xion follows Riku to a cliffside and he gives her an offer and a warning: either give him Roxas or hope that they never meet face to face again. Xion arms herself and demands to know what that means, but Riku also arms himself right as Axel throws a chakram between them and tells Riku to fuck off before he gets hurt.

Riku gives Xion one last glance before falling off the edge and leaving through a dark corridor, making it look like he just disappeared like a badass. They’re both confused, but still call it a day, Xion asking if Axel is okay after that fight with Saïx, because he’s still a little banged up. He expresses he’s fine(he’s a big boy!!) and tells Xion not to worry. 

She’s going to anyway because Riku is after Roxas, and threatened her with a fight if she didn’t bring Roxas to him. Axel, although he’s shook, tells her everything will be fine.

LIES, because Xion is sent on a mission to defeat Riku. All she needs to do is knock him out and they’ll come collect him, no problem.

Xion IS strong, but not strong enough because Riku wipes the floor with her and is about to take her to DiZ when dusks, samurai, and Non-form Roxas, who also gets whooped, but at least fairs a little better. 

The two wear Riku out enough for a lance to graze his arm, an arrow/bullet to hit his leg, and a few cards to distract him. 

The rest of the organization arrive, even Saïx and Xemnas, the latter using thorn/vine things to bind Riku’s hands behind his back. 

He remarks that Riku’s a lot bigger than he thought he would be, stronger too, and we get one of those creepy manga Xemnas moments as he grabs Riku, pulls him close by the jaw, and states he’ll have fun seeing just how strong he is; he knows that Riku is hiding Sora, Kairi, DiZ, and his witch, and will tear him apart with his bare hands to know where they are.

With Riku thoroughly freaked out, Xemnas stands and everyone returns, all tired and ready to find Sora. 

Xion, however, isn’t. Because Riku said some very interesting things to her during their fight. 

She considers telling Roxas, but he’s too worried making sure she’s okay, because Riku was tough. She goes to Axel instead, knowing he has a key to the dungeons, and he’s instantly skeptical; she asked if he could take her to see Riku. Xion lies through her teeth and says she just wants to rub in Riku’s face that they won and he lost.

Axel agrees, but decides he’s going to follow her, just in case.

They arrive as Xigbar leaves, asking if they’re going to welcome the new arrival and need help in doing so.

Xion counters that she’s actually going to return a favor and would like to do it alone. 

Axel’s surprised and Xigbar whistles for her to stand down; he was just asking because she got kicked like a soccer ball, no harm in asking for help.

He leaves and Xion goes toward Riku’s cell, asking Axel to stay by the door until she’s done.

He does so and Xion walks towards Riku’s cell, where she and we the audience see Riku is banged up from being interrogated; looks like Xemnas is taking his time.

Riku asks what she wants and Xion responds with a deal:

Tell her about Sora and she’ll give the organization a good enough lie to let him go so he can help Sora. During their fight, the two had an argument, Xion saying she was going to protect her friend and Riku snapping she had no idea what friends were because she’s a nobody and a replica, and the reason Sora can’t wake up.

 Spark Notes of the deal: If Riku tells Xion about Sora, Xion will give the organization an answer that will buy Riku enough time to get back to Sora.

Fair, but he has one condition: If he tells her, she was to decide what she will do; he’s not refusing because she genuinely wants to know more about Sora.

Xion agrees and Riku tells her to take a seat, because they’re going to be here for a while.

[berryberryrad]

𝙨𝙛𝙬 𝙖𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙗𝙚𝙩⚡️

.

shino aburame, sfw alphabet prompt

if this comes across as ooc, literally hit me pls. I’m usually kiba biased, but something about shino has just been hitting different recently.

warnings: blatant abuse of grammar and punctuation. cursing. i’m no writer, i just tell it like i see it. I wrote this on mobile and am not a tech guru so I wish I could do the fancy little, “keep reading,” bit but I’m

word count, 3983

.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

we’ve all come to the generalized conclusion that the aburame clan aren’t handsy. shino falls in line with this, and pda or even private interactions that involve skin to skin contact aren’t going to be his forte. I can see him holding hands, or the aspect of interlocking pinkies with this boy while you’re both reading or walking throughout the woods just has me weak in my knees. a more common way shino would express himself by ways of affection would be listening; absorbing every word you have to give and then offering up the information he’s collected later to show that he does hang onto your every word. he does so subtly, remembering things that you mentioned favoring seemingly offhandedly but in reality he wants you to feel as seen as you make him feel. someone give him a kind smile right now

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

shino’s so quick to throw around the, “I’m not sure I have any friends,” card when kiba inuzuka literally exists— the audacity of this man. team 8? the bond the three of them have outdoes friendship. the loyalty. the camaraderie. the attitude. i get whiplash from their personalities interacting, and i love every minute of it. the bluntness of shino can come across as rude disposition, however it all comes a place of well intent. he speaks his mind, and he speaks the truth. all of it. having shino aburame as a friend would mean you could easily find calm grounds to stand upon. he’d offer words of harsh wisdom, whether you ask for them or not. he sees the best in people even behind his quiet demeanor, and has loyalty oozing out of him. good boy, 10/10 wanna be his best friend.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

can i be self-indulgent for .6 seconds: imagine how w a r m shino is. it had to be said.

anyways, aburame clan: not particularly touchy. we talked about this. however there would come times where shino would hold your hand. it was a practice you initiated, and he quickly caught onto. when you walk through the forest together, he’ll send his bugs out to take a quick peek around before interlocking your fingers silently. he’ll be nervous the first time, but eventually is confident enough to make the move without any plaguing hesitation.

I could go on and on about hand holding because I’m a simple girl, but we gotta get to the goods.

cuddling? with shino aburame? a prize that I want to win. you. bug boy. sitting side by side, chatting about slice of life oddities— you put your head on his shoulder. okay little baddie, we see you: he very carefully presses his head onto the top of yours. shoulder to shoulder, his cheek resting in your hair. you never stop talking about your day, and he never stops you. it feels so natural and easy. c o z y. I’m soft.

you don’t spoon, you want to see his face when he lights up with facts about entomology. when you reach that state in your relationship, you lay side by side and play with his fingers, or he draws lazy patterns on your wrist.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

he’d love to settle down wtf. he’d want to keep a romantic partner close, but even platonically— shino’s in it for the long haul.

he may be bug boy, but he’s also a clean boy. right? like okay his hair may be a bit unkept, and his room is definitely littered with sketches of insects and books here and there. but they’re organized in a way that makes sense to him. he can immediately find whatever he needs whenever he needs it, and that doesn’t make him unclean. when it comes to his insects, he keeps them tucked away with precision. each is labeled and jarred away probably alphabetically, idk, that just feels right to me.

cooking is something that can be accomplished in theory. a recipe can be read and executed, but that’s as far as it goes with shino. don’t expect much creative flare, the aburames are known bug enthusiasts, not ramen curators. the most spontaneity you can hope for is perhaps a pinch of salt on your eggs in the morning. if it’s not in the recipe, it’s not happening. he’s a boy of many talents, cooking is barely one of them.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

i don’t even wanna entertain shino breaking my heart—

good thing he’s breaking yours

shino wouldn’t let a platonic relationship go far enough into a romantic status unless he was without a doubt that you were someone he could trust and hold close to his person. honestly I’d say you’d have to be the one to break up with him if you managed to get far enough in. but if he had to break up with you? he’d have the briefest moment of hurt before setting it out all on the table. once his mind is made up, it’s over. he’s not one to dance around the point. you probably won’t even have to ask why. he’ll tell you without prompting.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

oh shino has no problem committing his life to you, after you’ve been together for a very long time that is. marriage isn’t the forthcoming thought pressing into his conscious. it’d be something you had to mention in passing to him to let him know you were interested. to shino, he recognizes your relationship as it is: a relationship. your partners for better or worse, he doesn’t think a marriage certificate has any true significance in the way you share feelings for one another.

but you’d like a wedding? okay, no qualms. he’d want to wait a few years, and the atmosphere of the village would to have to fair calm, but he wouldn’t mind a small ceremony. when he tilts your head back and kisses you to seal the deal, kiba faints.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

sorry I was just checking the time, seems to me like it’s, “soft boy hours.”

I want you to know right now that shino aburame hangs onto every word you say with such fervor, it’s just darling okay? emotionally, when you’ve established that you plan on playing an active role in his life, he’s so doting. asks you short and simple questions about your day. offers advice on your woes. let’s you interact with his bugs— because he trusts you. and you better offer him the same love and respect back. I have this whole thing about him receiving cheek kisses. he eats that shit up okay, but silently with a blush crawling up his neck and wrapping around his ears. pinky holding— hullo. that’s the gentlest thing homies can do.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

maybe he hugs you first. that’s wild, but it keeps you on your toes. you held his hand first, yes, but that night when he accompanies you home you stand nearly toe to toe. you haven’t released hands yet, and he’s overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude to someone who has lent an ear to him with no ulterior motives other than quality time. it’s strangely second nature to him as he wraps a fast arm around your waist, crushing your held hands between your bodies. you’re taken aback, obviously, but before you can even share a proper moment in the same space he’s retreating back into his stoic persona and wishing you a good night.

shino hugs with his whole body, and my favorite version of this would be him wrapping his arms around your shoulders as your crushed into his shoulder. love it. he doesn’t hug often, cherish the ones he shares with you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

shino, ever the one to speak his mind, let’s you know he loves you immediately when it occurs to him. I’m not quite sure when this is, but you’ve been apart of his life for a long time without a doubt. you make him feel safe, seen, and he is sure he can trust you. you probably ask him a question about like the process through which butterflies migrate or whatever, I’m not clever enough to think of insect related questions, but after he gets done explaining and you’ve got this thoughtful expression on your face he just blatantly says it. it’s so matter of fact and without any doubt that you have to blink for a moment before sharing the sentiment. it’s not awkward. there’s not any fanfare or roses involved. it’s the truth, and you’re both quietly over the moon about it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

shino and jealousy don’t necessarily exist in the same realm. he’s not going to entertain someone he can’t trust, that’s just a given. and if he did have any doubt in his mind you were pursuing something romantic from another, he’d simply send one of his bugs to investigate the situation. if it proved to be true, he’d confront you on it. if he’s misunderstood the circumstances then he can admit it, but if he hasn’t then he’ll make it apparent to you very quickly he doesn’t appreciate what you’ve been doing.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

soft, goodnight.

okay so like forehead kisses, right? forehead kisses by shino>>>>

i will die on this hill, don’t test me.

shino kisses softly and with purpose, there is nothing he does without meaning. it’s a press of his lips to your forehead before leaving for a mission, it’s brushing your lips together in the moonlight, it’s pushing the pads of your fingers against his mouth when you’re upset. I’m a hopeless romantic and there’s only so many euphemism for kissing, so take what you’re given. shino isn’t experienced in tonsil surfing, so you’ll have to bear with him. it’s something that relies less on textbook skill and moreover on feeling and primal intuition, something he does have so he’s not completely clueless. like i said, forehead kisses are a go to and idk if I’ve mentioned you giving shino cheek kisses but for the love of god, please opt to. he eats that shit up, you gotta.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

kurenai herself made note of how well shino interacts with kids, and I have never known kurenai to be wrong so it’s been decided. shino? amazing with kids. the scene between him and mirai? shino giving a piggy back ride? goodnight y’all, imma clock out.

and he eventually becomes sensei badass okay, like he can handle himself amongst a child or two. as far as having his own children I think he’d do well with one. shibi and shino share the classic aburame relationship: mutual understanding and appreciation of one another’s existence, and i can see him sharing that with his own child and then some. he spent the better part of his own childhood in solitude. it was in tandem sought out and forced upon him. big boy perks. he’d want his child to not only embrace their aburame side, bugs and all— but also to feel confident and extroverted enough to branch out and make interpersonal relationships

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

imagine being a morning person. I mean shino doesn’t have to, but it couldn’t be me. shino’s up before dawn breaks, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and pressing his glasses into his nose before he even opens his eyes. rise and shine. if you’ve been sleeping beside him, he’ll cast a long look you’re way, admiring your still figure before standing and beginning his day quietly so as not to wake you. he lets you sleep as long as you wish unless you instruct otherwise. sometimes you ask him to wake you when he wakes himself. you always regret it because why the fuck is he awake, the crickets are still outside doing god knows what. he thinks the ambiance of an early morning is peaceful, and it sets his person in ease.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

can we all just take a moment to appreciate the grand outdoors and how precious it would be to have shino watching you fondly ogle at fireflies in the middle of a field. like arms crossed with a gentle smile behind his collar as you open mouth grin and point because he absolutely asks them to do something impressive just to see you in awe.

nights are spent outside staring up at the sky. in a tree? on the ground? in the park? in the middle of the woods? who cares, time with shino is time well spent.

if it’s raining then that’s tough, I guess y’all will just have to have a night in. sometimes you play shogi, and you don’t complain when he lets you win despite you showing no true skill for the game. he doesn’t mind.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

oh shino won’t reveal anything haha. well not on purpose. see I know I’ve gone on and on about shino being so attuned to you and what you have to say, but you have to show him equal attention and devotion to get a good read of him. anything personal that can be taken from him is conveyed so subtly you’ll miss it if you’re not paying attention. he’ll answer any question you ask, however if you get too personal too fast he’ll slyly avoid the question

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

not easily angered, moreover easily annoyed. while shino may not be on shikamaru’s level of strategical advances, he does have a pretty good sense of how things should be completed. it’s usually the way that benefits the most people and accomplishes the goal with as little room for error as possible. when things stray off from the how he envisioned them, I see him getting a little irritated. I think the time he’s spent with kiba has aided in this conclusion, and he isn’t as easily moved to a pissy nature as he once was, but I think the sullen nature still translates across if things fail to go his way because in his mind, it’s the most logical path.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

broken record alert: he’s a good listener. it’s both a strategic move to manipulate situations because he’s become so good at reading people, and his own unique love language. it’s the juxtaposition of words of affirmation; he shows he cares by ways of empathy and action. it’s stoic empathy, but empathy nonetheless. he remembers everything you tell him, and everything you don’t. on missions when you two are parted, his thoughts are sometimes clouded with images of the way your mouth arches when you laugh, or the soft smell of you lingering on his coat after you hugged him goodbye.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

when you let him go on and on about his insects and you seem genuinely interested. so often do people put up with shino’s knack for bugs out of politeness or to just let him fill the silence— but you ask questions. you seem intrigued with any word that falls from his lips and you’re quick to quip back with facts you’ve dug up on your own. you’re curious about what shino is so attuned with, and he is so excited to have someone to educate who wants to learn. you’ll go on small adventures to locate bugs to breed or to simply watch, and it’s at these moments when you’re both silent and poised over a poisonous beetle with a respective jar and net that he remembers fondly when you’re both parted.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

well he’s already sworn to protect the village, so initially it’s on that basis. his duty is to do whatever he can to keep the residents of the hidden leaf secure, but with you he keeps a bit more of a watchful eye available. he isn’t paranoid or overly protective, however on days his mind is uneasy, shino has no qualms sending a beatle to hover your person. it’s just a security measure, nothing to write home about.

you keep shino protected from his inner turmoils. hinata and kiba can only reassure him so much, but shino has developed the habit of writing them off. they’re just his teammates, they have to put up with him. however you have no personal ties to him really. you stick around on your own accord, and this boosts his self esteem immensely. you put his mind at ease and make note to remind him daily that the members of team eight are an excellent unit and that he needs to give kiba and hinata more credit because they both care about him as well. akamaru too, woof woof dummy. accept the love.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

shino’s not a man of many words, and when he does spit fire, it’s calculated and can come across as blunt assertion. you’ll come to put up with it, but he can come to understand he can be a bit overbearing in this aspect. so as I’ve expressed, words of affirmation aren’t his love language (though don’t put it past him to whisper sweetness into your ear when you’re both alone: that would be lovely.)

he expresses himself through gifts, awe. shino won’t present you with precious jewels or money as means of affection. no, the gifts are moreover practical. a book you had been pining after, a scarf to keep you warm in the upcoming months, things of that nature. he also collects rocks, we can collectively agree on that as a community right? he’ll share them with you, encouraging you to begin your own arsenal of rocks that entertain no one but are a sweet gesture— thanks shino.

dates are long walks when he as spare time. he doesn’t mind if they’re silent or if you fill the space with your own daily narrative. you’ll both trade useless dialogue and he likes it. it’s a sense of normalcy for him.

he doesn’t try particularly hard in any sense, but he doesn’t need to. time spent with shino is delightfully casual in both of your lives, please don’t mind it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

what if shino picks his nails, awe.

he’s a wonderful, brilliant little creature: but he has a habit of writing off people who clearly care about him. you’ve gotta take a little energy into reassuring him from time to time. he won’t outwardly mope in this mentality, but sometimes he seems a little off and it will fall on your shoulders to assist him

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

mans only lets like 3% of his face be shown for the better part of the series and then decided that a visor and top knot were gonna be his debut look in boruto, he is n o t the one to look to for fashion advice, and this is coming from someone who simps so hard for shino aburame like he’s lowkey giving kiba a run for his money at this point but like come on

as far as his s/o goes i know the prompt didn’t ask but he doesn’t mind what his s/o particularly looks like. it’s a personality game baby, let’s go

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

shino’s written as a loner, and he doesn’t particularly mind that status but a friend every now and then is never unwelcome. he deserves to be appreciated, and while he may not outwardly show that he receives the appreciation in good spirits, you can rest assured he does. having a partner would be pleasant, no doubt, and he would love having someone by his side to call a best friend (and eventual partner) however shino’s existence isn’t completely codependent on another half. he can exist on his own with just the company of his bugs with no true remorse. he does feel lonely at times, but he’s got the squad of the hidden leaf backing him up. he’ll make it through

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

blush bug boy shino = a happy bee (‘s me, I���m bee)

the headcannons where stoic blunt hardass shino is an inexperienced nervous boy eat me alive. man’s is a shinobi who has faced peril and nearly suffocates when you hold his hand for the first time? imma head out, i love it

he’s also always early to things? yes please? early is on time, on time is late, and late means call an ambulance, something super not cool has gone down

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

if you don’t like bugs, you have to evacuate the dancefloor. I’m not saying you have to be the president of the, “insects are the superior race,” committee. to enjoy something and appreciate something from a distance both can weigh evenly on a scale in this instance. if you’re a bug enthusiast, kudos. he’ll love spending time showing off his collection to you with a slightest hint of pride coloring his tone. if you’re the type of person to be afraid of insects, he can deal with that as well. most people are, and he recognizes it comes from misunderstanding. if you are willing to give the bugs a chance and overcome your phobia, you’ve won him over.

wouldn’t like an over the top ditzy person. he needs you to have some sense of self preservation and common sense. shino does not put up with tom foolery and he would make that apparent to you very quickly.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

can I head cannon that he just becomes unhinged in his sleep? can we get behind that? like shino may begin the night tucked in with his hands clasped over his abdomen, but that is n o t how he finds himself in the morning. as a shinobi, he’s a light sleeper. fair play. but light sleepers toss and turn too, and I like to imagine him waking up discombobulated. face down, open pressed into his pillow, arms doing what they will, hair in disarray. magnificent. a pen drops and he wakes immediately, and is up before you can truly assess what you’ve just seen of the normally so put together aburame.

he knows he’s an active sleeper, ‘s why he gets up at 4am. that’s his business

[luxekook]

chapter two.

⇥ pairing: namjoon x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic namjoon, power tools, hints of poly relationships, overall pretty smut free (who AM i???)

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Two

Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am

When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.

Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.

We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.

Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.

Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.

The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”

I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”

“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.

As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”

Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I'm gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”

Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”

Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.

“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.

The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…

No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.

He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.

I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.

As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.

I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.

Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot...

The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.

His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.

Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”

He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Our differing replies sound at the same time.

“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”

Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”

I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”

My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”

“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”

I stare at him.

He smirks back.

I stare.

His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”

I stare.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”

I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”

His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.

“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”

I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.

Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”

“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.

“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”

Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”

I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”

He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”

The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”

I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat. 

Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”

The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”

Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year...”

I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”

Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.

I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.

The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.

“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”

Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”

I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.

“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”

I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”

He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”

I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”

“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.

“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”

“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”

“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

a/n: i love namjoon. that is all. 

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @bewitch3dforivar @honeyspillings @xxonyxpearlxx​  @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang 

[wxldchxld]

This started out as like, a light piece just to describe what Beck’s workspace looks like and I won’t lie I’m a little obsessed with it. People always ask me like how tf Harper and Beck get along and... this. It’s this. Harper turns into a big sappy baby who lives off of nothing but Loving Her Wife Juice.

I’ll probably go back and edit this a couple of times for typos and other things but I love it so much I just wanna post it rn. And I won’t be putting it under a cut so y’all will have to live with it.

Harper knocked, almost tentatively, on the open door. From outside she could smell the intoxicating aroma of fir trees and herbs, sweetened by dried apples and candied citrus, drawing the attention of any passersby and calling them in. But she lingered there, knocking a second time when she got no response. Somewhere an old record player was crackling as Judy Garland sang about far away places over a rainbow, and a warm voice was humming along with it. Harper gently ran her thumb over one of the embroidered silk foxes among flower petals embedded into the translucent curtain that covered the door. The fabric, a deep ocean blue, shuffled under her attention, and the little creatures looked as if they were dancing.

Even on the threshold of Beck’s workshop, the world felt so slow. Time didn’t abide by schedules and obligations. It flowed like a lazy river on the precipice of winter, slowly but surely crusting over with ice. If she stood still long enough, would it freeze entirely? Or would the warm glow that haloed her lover forever melt away the sharpest crystals and encourage it to move on?

She didn’t need to knock. She didn’t need permission to enter. Not only did she doubt Beck would care, but the building was hers. The city--in its own way--was hers. It was her nature to utterly and completely possess things---to take them into herself to keep. If someone asked, she’d likely have even said Beck was hers. 

But she had no claim over this place. It was a feeling that went far deeper than any deed or contract or organization. The magic here was so perfectly interwoven with it that it felt like it belonged to Beck.

Inside the room, there was a little tsk and a rich, quiet laugh. “What are you doing hanging out there like a bat? The door is open.” 

The door was always open. Beck still clung to the old superstitions of their people. Ancient rules about hospitality and ways witches ought to behave. Rules made in a time when their people had been valued and listened to, long before Christians had turned them into a target and Google had rendered them obsolete. But Beck claimed it wasn’t about people, it was about magic, and its strange laws that were shrouded in mystery. Magic, she said, liked to know its witches were always open and welcome to it. In return for a witch’s “proper” hospitality, magic would sweep away the bad luck that so often got caught behind closed doors. And--again according to Beck--spirits were much the same, and closing the door on them might cause otherwise benign entities to turn dark with anger.

But Harper had been raised by much less traditional witches. One specifically that would have worn her back end raw with a wooden spoon for letting the heat escape and airing their business out in front of their neighbors. 

She pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the room, leaving any lingering thoughts of her mother laid on the doorstep with the rest of her worries.

The apartment was an explosion of barely organized chaos. Dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling or were pressed between the thick, heavy pages of spellbooks laying on the shelves beside jars stuffed with candied fruits and tea leaves. Knitwork and embroidery and tapestries and clothing in all states of completion were laid out on tables or hung up from the wall. Live plants in brightly colored pots lounged in the sunlight that poured in from the huge windows on the far side of the wall. There was a collection of open-faced cabinets filled with canisters of wood and glass and stone that sat in clusters with no apparent system of coordination. Above her the high ceilings had been turned into an aerial playground of wooden bridges, little boxes, and plush cushions either nailed into the wall or floating in midair among the drying plants where her most cantankerous familiar could sit and look down on the apartment like a goddess. A fire roared energetically to her right, and to her left there was a small kitchen where an enormous pot of sliced apples was being attended by an enchanted spoon.

It was nothing like the penthouse they shared when Harper left her work to come home. But oddly enough Beck’s workshop didn’t feel cramped or chaotic. It was warm. It was inviting. Everything melted together on the merit that no two things were remotely related to one another in any sensible way. A way that suggested every single item had been purposefully hand picked or handmade by the master of the domain and placed precisely where they were meant to be. 

And there she sat, behind it all, nestled among the plants in front of a wall of windows. Her feet were curled up in the plush, gliding rocker beside her, and she was smiling up at her through a halo of sunlight. In this place she was a queen, and her crown was made of braids entangled with wildflowers and encrusted with knitting needles and crochet hooks that she had stuck away for safekeeping and promptly forgotten about. She was holding a little stuffed creature in one hand, and pulling a needle and thread in the other.

Beck always seemed fondly amused by the slow, reverent way Harper entered her domain. Their eyes met for a few gentle seconds, and then Beck looked to her right, where something shimmering and half formed in the sunlight began to move. Harper tried to focus on the spirit, but it collapsed in on itself and turned into a yellow moth as big as her hand, and lazily fluttered into the shadow of a flower by the window.

“That doesn’t unnerve you?” Harper asked, taking a seat in an armchair across from her girlfriend.

Again the blonde let out a breezy laugh that harmonized with the music in the background.

“You spend half your nights in an enchanted necropolis in some undisclosed abyss with only dead people and a renegade faerie for company, and an air spirit unnerves you.” She said, a playful perk in her brow. 

Harper scoffed in feigned offense. “Dead things don’t think. They don’t watch me. I don’t like to be watched.”

“What a shame. You’re quite the sight to look at.” 

Now Harper laughed, a rare, genuine chuckle of amusement. She wasn’t modest by any means, but Beck’s flattery could still make her heart race and her stomach fill with butterflies. As if it were the first time, even though compliments fell from Beck like droplets of rain in a spring shower.

“Well it’s a privilege. And it’s only bestowed on people I think highly of.”

Beck snorted soundlessly. “I can’t imagine there are many of those.”

“Only one, currently. And I’d let her do anything she pleased.” Harper replied. There was a small, suggestive grin on her lips, and a devilish twinkle in her eye.

“Oh?” Both of Beck’s brows raised and the hand holding her needle pressed against her heart as if she were shocked. “Then I guess I have someone to be jealous of, because you certainly don’t let me do whatever I want.”

Again she laughed, and Beck joined in with her. Harper rolled her eyes, her quick tongue failing her, and said lightly. “Shut up.” 

“See?! There it is right there. Always bossing me around.” The little witch clicked her tongue in fake disapproval. 

“Anything you want to me.” Harper corrected, still grinning so wide that it hurt her cheeks. “The fact that I don’t let you wreak havoc all across the tristate area is not the same.”

Beck held up both her hands in surrender. “Hey, you say potato, I say tomato.”

“That’s-” Harper halted her correction when she saw the look on Beck’s face that suggested her point was about to be proven perfectly. “Absolutely right.”

It was Beck’s turn to roll her eyes, and then she returned her attention to the project in her hands. Harper leaned forward just a little to try and catch a subtle glimpse, and without a word from the necromancer, Beck raised up the stuffed animal to show.

“Essi has decided that she’s infatuated with snails.” She said, shaking her head. 

Esteri was a frequent visitor in their home. Harper could remember when she was born how Beck had practically lived at Frankie’s house and brought the infant home with her when her friend needed rest. Midori and Jari had done just the same, and the door to her penthouse had practically revolved for months as the gaggle of friends came and went. Essi had just turned three a short while ago, and she’d grown into a wild-eyed, challenging little girl. Consequently, one of Beck’s favorite hobbies consisted of indulging her every whim and encouraging her to be as difficult as possible. If that meant making a snail to feed her newest fancy, Harper knew that “Aunty Beck” was more than happy to provide. 

“It’s not surprising, between you and Dori I don’t know who lets her play in the dirt more.”

“We play in the garden.” Beck corrected.

Harper refused to give ground. “Gardens are mostly dirt.” 

“It’s important for witches to know how to plant and grow.” Her playful tone had gotten a little more serious. Not angry, but carrying a thread of absolute belief. “You could use a bit more time in the garden. And the sun for that matter.”

“Alas my love,” She sighed dramatically, “I am a creature of the night.”

Something soft bounced off her nose and fell into her lap. It was the snail. It’s stupid, smiling face laughing up at her.

“Are you throwing things at me now?” She teased, “Do you really want to start this with me?”

“You’re the one who said I could do whatever I wanted to you.” Beck wasn’t even bothering to contain her wolfish grin.

“You. Not this creature you’ve created. I can’t take an attack like this sitting down. I have a reputation to uphold.” She stood up, stuffed animal clenched in her hand, and slowly walked toward the fire place.

“Don’t you dare!” Beck squealed. They both knew it was an empty threat, that Harper would never disrespect the woman she loved so brazenly, but Beck threw the blankets off her lap and scrambled to her feet in a flash. Harper held the stuffed creature high above her head as Beck latched onto her. 

There was a flush of heat that certainly didn’t come from any fire as their bodies pressed together. Beck was all soft curves over surprisingly strong muscles and blue eyes that glittered in the flames.

“Give me that back!” She demanded, trying to sound stern and reaching hopelessly for the toy. The pair stumbled and fell against a wall. When it shook a cascade of lavender petals and thyme leaves peppered them like confetti.

The necromancer curled one of her legs behind her lover’s and held up the animal higher. “I never knew you had this kind of rage inside of you. You know maybe you should go to therapy.”

“I never knew you were so annoyi-OH” Harper swept them both to the side, and Beck only managed to stay upright because she was being held against her so tightly. The little witch huffed, her cheeks flushing. “Oh I’m going to knock you over the side of the head so hard it smarts for a month!”

“See! There it is again! That rage!” Harper teased, merciless. A little childish, even. “Beck it’s me! Please, remember you loved me once.”

“You’re too rotten for loving. You give me that toy right now!”

Harper was shaking with laughter, her free hand wrapped around Beck’s waist as she strained. Beck was laughing too, intermittently. Every few seconds her angry façade would break just long enough for a smile and a chuckle that made her quiver against her.

“Why are you so godsdamned tall?! Was your mother a giant?” Beck’s hand had a hold on her wrist and her nails were just barely scratching the skin that ignited a dangerous excitement in Harper.

“A troll, actually. It’s a wonder I turned out so pretty.” Harper carefully guided them through the room backing them into the perfect position. When her hand was at just the right height, she felt the toy roughly ripped away from her, and the enormous black feline leaped over the both of them with it in her mouth, and (likely sensing what was about to happen) ran out into the hall. 

"They say the devil has a pretty face---and Angrboda you’re giving that back!” The smaller witch tried to twist to look at her familiar, but Harper had pulled her tight against her body. Now with her other hand free she tilted up her lover’s chin and kissed her softly, the both of them still intermittently giggling.

They turned again, fingers tangled in one another’s hair, lips locked, the air between them dissolving until her lungs burned but still neither of them pulled away. Not until Harper had backed the witch up to the armchair. She gave her lover a rough push and watched her fall back into the seat, panting and grinning in delight. 

She placed a knee on either side of Beck and trapped her against the cushions, reveling in the way she shivered. Her head stooped to whisper in the little witch’s ear. “And what would you let the devil do to you?”

Beck's hands were tightly gripping her hips, trying to pull her even closer. She smelled like apples and wildflowers and everything Harper loved in the world. She was everything Harper loved in the world. Perhaps even the only thing she loved in the world of the living.

“I’d let her do anything she wants.” Beck said beneath her, and the record came to a scratchy stop, and all Harper could hear was the crackle of the fire and the door slamming shut behind them.

[thesameasbe4]

One More Night in Siberia

*Bucky and first person reader.

I mumbled one more “thank you” in my terrible Russian as I closed the door on the intrusive host. Had I not been so tired and sore I would have realized that it was not strange of the owner of the Inn to be suspicious of two people banging on the door in the middle of a blizzard, with no vehicle, in Siberia. But I was too tired - so I just trudged into the room after Bucky and sank to the floor. After a few moments to gather my wits I began looked about the small space. There was an old iron coil heater in the corner on the far side of the room so I rose with a groan and went to examine it. After poking around I found the pilot light was out so I rifled through the bug out bad we had been sharing and pulled out a pack of matches. Soon the ancient coil was creaking and groaning but getting warmer.

Next I turned to Bucky. He had put on a brave face when negotiating for the room, but now he was white as a sheet and stared ahead blankly. “Hold on, Buck,” I murmured to him as I stripped him out of his freezing clothes. I could see fresh blood stains on his undershirt as I pulled that off too, swallowing hard. The bullet wound had not hit any vital organs, just grazed his lower left side, but we had been on the run for a week now and I was worried it was getting infected. There was no bathroom in the room so I slipped outside with our small cooking pot and collected some snow. Returning unnoticed by the innkeeper, I set the pot on the heater to melt.

It had been too long since either of us had had a warm shower and even a heated basin of water was better than anything we should expect. After cleaning his wound and a swallow of whiskey for each of us, Bucky was sitting up again, propped against a wall. I gently ran a bandanna soaked in the warm water over his torso and face. The room was quite toasty now, but Bucky was still shivering. I reached down to feel the leg of his pants and sighed, realizing they were also soaked through. Carefully, I undid them and slid them off his legs, spreading them flat on the ground to dry close to the heat. I then pulled the reindeer skins off the small bed in the corner of the room and tucked them around him, I hadn’t the energy to try to move him to the bed. He was closer to the heater this way.

It was just a few hours till the chopper would meet us here, but Buck didn’t look good. I suspected his wound was becoming infected, he wasn’t losing much blood anymore, so that wasn’t the reason for his pallid skin and he would going through waves of chills. He began to shake again and I could no longer see anything but a cold, sad boy. Coaxing his large frame to lean forward, I managed to slip behind him, straddling his shaking body with my legs. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tight. “Buck?” I murmured into his ear.

“Yea,” he groaned with much effort.

“I need you to stay awake for me, Bucky. Do you understand?”

“Mmh,” he groaned again, his flesh arm squeezing my ankle. I couldn’t help but lean into him further, while flinching internally as I thought of how we would explain this away when he had his wits about him again.

We passed the hours together by telling stories. I talked about the yellow plastic slide in my back yard growing up. How I had tried about a dozen times to spend a whole night in the tree house my father built but would always come inside when it got dark because I thought a raccoon would sit on my face in the middle of the night. Bucky smiled at that, his light laughter reverberating down his back. Bucky talked about growing up in the city, about the best rooftop view of New York and promised we would visit it together one day. I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see them.

“Always the playboy aren’t you?” I teased light heartedly.

Bucky reached around and grabbed my free hand, pulling it to him and placing it on his bare chest. “No, you are too precious to be an object for a playboy,” he said cryptically. I shook it off as a symptom of his fever, though I left my hand where he placed it, kneading his clammy chest gently as he continued to talk, the deep vibrations of his voice making their way to my palm.

A while later, lights on the horizon flashed the signal to let us know it was our ride out of here. I helped Bucky dress and we stumbled out of the droopy little building into the vast white world. Two uniforms met us half way and I gratefully handed Bucky off to them.

…

Several days passed and Bucky and I were recovering well from the mission. I had thought I was going to lose a few toes to frost bite but managed to pull through with all my body parts still attached. Bucky’s infected wound was now on the mend. His side was still tender though he would never admit that.

I looked up from my book at a tap on my door. “Enter!” I said not looking up.

“Hey,” said a low voice from my door.

“What up,” I replied, trying not to seem excited to see him.

“Well, I ordered too much Chinese and you haven’t eaten yet,” he said.

“You have just said two statements, you now need to combine them into a cohesive question,” I said flatly. It had been a frustrating day.

“Okay, as a hungry person, do you think I should share my food with Steve or just eat it all myself?”

I threw a pen at him, which he caught gracefully in mid air. “It would have hit you in the forehead,” I mumbled.

Walking the rest of the way into my room, he placed a full plastic bag on my desk, the delicious smells of fried rice and dumplings seeping into the space. Then he moved to stand behind my desk chair, placing his warm hands on my shoulders. He began to knead the knots in my back. I closed my book and leaned into his touch, trying hard not to moan.

“You know I never properly thanked you for dragging my ass out of Siberia,” he said. I turned to look at him.

“You don’t have to, it’s what partners do,” I replied.

“I know, but you are an exceptional partner.” I waved a hand at him in dismissal but he caught it, and pulled me up to stand in front of him, so close we were almost touching. Then, he placed my hand on his chest again, just like he had done that night in Siberia. I looked up at his face and was startled by his glittering grey-blue eyes.

As if by a force outside of my control, I raised my hands to his face and pulled him down to meet my lips. I was sure he would pull away, make an awkward excuse and duck out, but that’s not what he did. No, he wound his hands around my hips, pulling me in tighter.

His lips were firm against mine, insistent as they explored my mouth, jaw and neck. His metal arm, a shock of cold on my lower back at first, was warming from contact with my heated skin. I was taken aback by his eagerness, surprised and I was more tentative to respond to him, my arm snaking up between us to grab a handful of his shirt. I pressed against his chest, coaxing him away from me gently, and despite the need I sensed in his tense muscles, he moved away just enough for me to shiver as the cool air of the room buffered against me in the places where I had adjusted to Bucky’s body heat. Bucky nuzzled my neck with his stubble questioningly.

“Hey now, the food is getting cold,” I laughed as he continued to cling to me even as I began to unpack the bag of food he had forgotten on my desk. “I’m gonna eat your egg roll if you don’t back off,” I threatened.

…

The lo mein sat heavy in my stomach as I reran our kiss from earlier in the day. I was still at my computer, but I hadn’t gotten anything done in the past hour. Sighing, I rose and headed for the shower. The steam and heat were divine, I never took luxuries like hot water for granted anymore since I had been in so many situations without such things. I stood there in the shower for much too long, till I was bright red and the water started to get cool again. Finally I switched it off and stepped out of the bathroom in a towel.

I was stepping into some comfy sweats as an old melody drifted into my room. I cocked my head and smiled. Bucky, the boy displaced by time, was playing his records from the 40’s again. Returning to my closet, I pulled out a simple, modest knee length black dress as I ran my hand thoughtfully through my drying hair. A few minutes later I caught the image of myself in the mirror as I pulled on a pair of pantyhose, no time for an elaborate hair do, but it was my best efforts at 1940s fashion on a time crunch. Tugging on a pair of matching heels, I clicked down the hall lightly towards the haunting sounds of the record. The door opened before I could knock, super soldier and all, it was hard to catch Bucky by surprise.

“Need a partner?” I asked as I raised my hands, offering to dance with him. He smiled broadly as his gaze swept down my figure and then back up to my face. Gently he stepped closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, drawing me further into the room and kicking the door closed with his foot. We moved slowly together, inching closer and closer to one another like two magnets, the lazy jazz luring us into the fantasy of a crowded dance floor. Finally I laid my head on his shoulder. We didn’t say anything, we were partners. He knew what I needed and I knew what he was thinking.

[pasteljeon]

Shadows (m)

summary | he could love you … if only you’d let him in.

genre | venom au, venom!jk, smut, angst

warnings | tentacle porn, oral (female receiving), edging, guk has a fat cock ana oop, size kink, sexual tension, mating cycles, heat sex (yeah, you read that right)

length | 1.9k

notes | i crawl out of retirement for this one (1) halloween fic that i’ve been dyin to write since forever. and, as some already know, this also just an excuse for tentacle porn. :D happy halloween everyone! wish i could’ve written sth longer, but it’s still midterm season for me & i’m beyond buried in work rn :”( regardless, please enjoy!

.

.

.

“Kook.”

Silence. The mass lying in the middle of the room remained motionless.

You sighed, forehead thumping against the one-way glass. Theoretically, you knew he wouldn’t be able to see you, but he could sense you. Feel your presence.

“Kookie. Please.” Your breath ghosted across the barrier.

The darkness shifted, a tendril reluctantly reaching to seek out your heat, pressed against where your palm was splayed on the other side.

“Miss ___.” You flinched, the monotone voice of your assistant startling you momentarily.

“The next trial begins in ten minutes. Should I bring the volunteer in?”

Her perfectly manicured nails tapped against the sleek black clipboard, sharp eyes unimpressed as they note your affection for the containment within.

Living organisms with compositions so extraordinary they were coveted as a chance to revolutionize humanity. A symbiotic relationship, they relied on molecular bonding with a host to survive. A symbiote. The term alien often whispered with every passing of fluttering white lab boats.

Simply put, they were experiments.

And you headed them all.

You glanced back briefly, only to find he’d already retreated, unmoving once more.

.

.

.

The research facility was intimidating, stripped white walls bare and plain, the building expansive and equipped with the latest technology. Endless floors filled with glass walls lining different divisions.

Within these walls, there was transparency. Outside of it, no one knew much at all.

The guilt chipped away at you slowly.

They were real. They felt. They were very much capable of the same human emotions your species processed. They hurt. Felt pain. Each compatibility failure was destroying them.

There were many that did not survive the crash. All that was left, scavenged from the space outreach initiative, were seven uniquely distinct specimens. All the equivalent of a male.

They all had binary identifications, but you gave them something else. A name.

Namjoon. He was exceedingly intelligent. The first few months had been spent attempting to establish ground communications with them. Namjoon had picked up your language easily, and it no longer shocked you to see a massive dark blob flipping through encyclopedias. He liked to read, consuming pages like oxygen. With every routine checkup, you’d deliver a few novels you’d enjoyed in the past. His upper section of his blobbed body would incline, and you’d imagine he was thanking you.

Seokjin was the eldest of the bunch, as concluded by your preliminary findings of their biological structure. Oddly enough, though it had been discovered early on that their kind could sustain themselves on anything, they still preferred human flesh. It didn’t make them dangerous, necessarily—you could teach them human ethics. For the most part, Seokjin tried not to nip at your ankles when you visited. As a substitute, you taught him how to cook. There was a mini kitchen set up in his quarantine, and some nights were spent with him stretching his mass over your shoulder and watching you work.

Yoongi was, kindly put, lazy. He slept most of the day, scarcely reacted when you tried to interact with him. You did, however, discover he liked music. He got speakers. Headphones made his head hurt, he once signed to you. Noise sensitivity.

Hoseok was so human it hurt. He was energetic, restless. He bounced around his containment. His own version of dancing, almost.

Taehyung and Jimin refused to separate. When you first examined them, you’d nearly mistaken them for one entity. Soulmates, if the concept existed in their world. They shared one cell, liked to tussle and fight one another.

Then there was Jungkook. He was shy, barely moved when you first met. If not for the pulse beneath his silk, there was no sign of life at all. You were endeared as he slowly broke from his shell. He liked you. You knew because you were the only one that could get close, that could touch him without repercussions. He’d killed his hosts, regardless of compatibility, thrice before they paused trials. He hated it more than any of them.

But here, they were safe.

And yet here, they were also being harvested. Used. To become the steppingstone in humanity’s evolution. Time was running out, and the private company that spearheaded the research was demanding results.

Here, they are to become weapons.

And you were going to break them out.

.

.

.

“Kook. Jungkook.”

Your voice was urgent, though steady.

Panic setting in heavy in your stomach when you saw him press himself closer to the wall.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I won’t let it touch you. But we need to get out of here, and fast. The building’s going to collapse,” you coaxed. The flames licked your back, warning you of the fire that blazed across the hall.  

He quivered, drawing away from your extended hand.

Fire. Bad. Hurts.

You bit back your gasp. His voice was low, a quiet rumble in your head.

You steeled your nerve. “I know. Bond with me.”

He stilled.

And then—mine. You belong to me. We are one.

And you said, “always.”

He shot to you, sinking beneath your flesh and making a home in the beating of your heart.

.

.

.

You disappeared.

As the building burned, so did all the data and files you’d accumulated over the years. The symbiote all dispersed, you having found a suitable host months prior. Some were friends, some were not. But they all cared, and you knew they would find sanctuary in a peaceful life with them.

So you let them go, and turned over a new page.

.

.

.

You monitored your vitals for the first few hours, fearing the compatibility would elude you.

Will not. Belong together. Us.

His thoughts echoed, though always soft.

“Where do you want to go?” You wondered aloud as you fingered the plane ticket in your hands.

Hungry, he said instead. You could feel him gnawing at your liver. “Don’t do that. You might accidentally split it.”

If he had lips, you imagined he’d be pouting.

Where we going? You had the feeling he was trying to read the slip.

“Somewhere cold.”

You hate cold.

“You hate the heat.” The first calls for boarding had you wheeling your luggage to the gates.

Don’t care. As long as we are together. Can go anywhere.

You smiled down at your passport, cheeks warm. “Yeah.”

.

.

.

It took time to adjust to a completely different lifestyle. Your previous line of work had compensated your risk generously, and you’d had enough foresight to invest and save wisely.

Here, you’d picked up a job as a pharmacist at one of the local drug stores. It was terribly mundane, but you found you liked this kind of routine. It was a welcomed change from the scars you’d collected. A sense of normality.

It was October when everything changed.

Jungkook had been restless lately. Distant. Withdrawn.

It’s like he’d curled up in the corner of your mind. Lethargic.

You knew the symptoms.

“Kook.” He stirred faintly at the sound of your voice.

Lover. He rumbles lowly, rousing slowly.

“Your heat. It’s coming soon.” You rolled over, the sheets pooling at your waist. A tendril wraps itself loosely around your calf.

Yes.

“What will you do?”

Another tendril creeps up your stomach, squeezing your breast firmly.

You.

.

.

.

Their heats were intense. Nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. While they only occurred once a full cycle, the need overwhelmed them, made them ravenous and delirious. And a human host? They served as aphrodisiacs. Enhanced the craving until it all but consumed them.

You woke in a feverish haze, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, panties shoved aside and thighs smeared with wetness.

“J-Jungkook!” You gasped, back arching as he fucked you harder.

“Love. My love,” he rasped, fingers curling, watching you come undone with dark eyes.

It was also the only time they could fully materialize.

He was ethereal, pupils blown out, a thin ring of gold visible in the ebony that threatened to swallow it all. Completely naked, tanned complexion stretching over corded muscles, he hovered over you, arms braced next to your head. His hair was soft, luscious and long, falling in waves over his forehead. Darkness mirrored his every movement, his true form rippling beneath the surface.

“Want you. Need you,” Jungkook groaned, gaze smoldering as he fisted your sleep tee. “Please.”

“Since you asked so politely,” you managed breathlessly. You took his hand and slipped it underneath, guiding it until he traced the underside of your breast.

He ripped the fabric apart, buttons flying as he shoved the offending material off your shoulders. “Need. Can’t control. Please.”

In spite of the inferno brewing within, he remained your ever sweet Jungkook. The shadows drew closer, the touch soft though frantic, mapping your body in long strokes. He buried his face in your cunt, abnormally long tongue driving you crazy with every lick.

“K-Kook, I c-can’t,” you sobbed, fingers gripping his locks as he coaxed another orgasm from you easily.

His palms, warm and large, spread your legs apart. His cock was intimidating, tip angry and throbbing, a tantalising vein running along the side. He was dripping with something akin to precum, the substance slightly lighter and thicker than the human equivalent.

The dark tendrils snaked around you just as he slammed into you.

Your moan was lost to his lips, kiss messy and wild, your mind blanking with every thrust and the stroke of his tongue. His tentacles tweaked and pulled at your nipples, twisting and teasing, others suckling at your clit while some were wrapped around his length, providing ridges that edged your sensitive core.

“Mine. Mine. Ours. Breed,” Jungkook chanted, the grip of his shadows tightening as if to brand their shape to your skin. It was too much.

“Y-yes, Koo, need you, need you just like this,” you cried out, walls spasming around him as you reached your high once more.

The bedframe rattled loudly, Jungkook’s pace increasing inhumanly as he pounded into you. “N-ngh—ah! L-love, so perfect, made for me. Thank you, thank you,” he moaned, hips stuttering as he came, filling you up hotly. So much it spilled from where he remained inside of you, dripping down your thighs.

His forehead rested against yours as he fought to quell his hunger for just a moment longer. Though his release brought brief clarity, the lust was already beginning to trickle back in. His cock twitched, the ache so profound his shadows latched onto you harder.

Your legs wrapped around his back, eyes soft as you said, “I’m all yours. Don’t hold back.”

Jungkook exhaled shakily. “Make me crazy.”

He nuzzled your neck, even as his dick pulsed, he pushed his nose into your jawline and whispered, “Lover. You and me. Until the end.”