#I continue to expose you guys to my awful sense of humor

[evostrashbin]

VERY serious warmup doodle from like two days ago about Grima asking the truly important questions

[childeaether]

venus.

cw: 18+ only, xiao/f!reader, law school au, enemies to lovers, rough sex, dumbification, degradation

wc: 2.5k

it was getting late. well, it got late about two hours ago. now midnight was approaching at an annoyingly fast rate. you were exhausted, xiao was irritable, and the report was nowhere near done. it was a miracle that no one had come by to lock up the study room for the night.

“this case doesn’t make any sense,” you griped, typing aggressively on your laptop. xiao sighed.

“you’ve said that three times in the last thirty minutes. i get it,” he said flatly. you shot him a look. your professor had to be some kind of sadist. you and xiao had hated each other since the first day of class. rarely did a lecture go by without the two of you arguing- whether it was about law or the color of the sky.

“read this,” you said, turning your laptop towards him. his eyes narrowed as he read over the report, which you’d rewritten twice now. he shook his head as he approached the end.

“your reasoning doesn’t make any sense. you’re just mentioning another case to make the holes in your argument look smaller,” he said. “and the fuck does the implied powers have to do with anything?”

you snatched your laptop back. “at least i’m putting ideas out there. you’ve been rereading it for, like, forty five minutes.”

he rolled his eyes. “right. why analyze the case to further understand it when you could just spew bullshit and pray something is right?”

you groaned in frustration. “this case is at least a century old. you’re not supposed to ‘further understand it.’ the whole point of the assignment is torture us mentally.”

“the whole point of the assignment is to challenge us,” he shot back, “something you will have to get used to if you want a fucking law career.”

you slammed your laptop shut. “i get it, you think i’m stupid-”

“i don’t think you’re stupid, i think you’re fucking lazy.”

you snorted, but there was no humor in it. “i’m lazy, but you haven’t written shit. got it.”

he stood. “listen, i’m sorry that you weren’t paired with your little boyfriend, but-”

“my little boyfriend?” you said, incredulous. “what are you even talking about?” you got to your feet, too. the two of you were ticking time bombs, trapped in each other’s space. as always.

“that ginger you sit next to. don’t act like i’m wrong,” he snapped, “you two are so fucking obvious.”

you laughed in disbelief. “jesus christ, you are such an asshole. his name is childe. you’ve known him an entire semester-”

xiao cut you off, “you’re unbearable around him. that stupid high pitched giggle you do? it gives me a fucking headache-”

“laughing at his jokes means i’m fucking him?” you didn’t even realize that you’d raised your voice.

“you dumb yourself down for him,” xiao said. “it’s infuriating. you can have anyone you want, why do you settle for that moron?”

“i’m not settling for him,” you hissed, “i don’t even talk to him outside of class! and so what if i fucking was? god forbid someone likes me, right? just because you hate me doesn’t mean the rest of the world does.”

something in his eyes changed. you suddenly realized how close your faces were. you must’ve gotten closer as your tempers escalated.

“you are stupid,” he said, softly. before your rage took hold, he continued, “i.. don’t hate you.”

you scoffed. “yeah, right,” you said, starting to back away. his hand caught your shoulder, gentle but firm. the earth stopped turning. he’d never looked at you like this before. like you were more than a nuisance. much more.

it clicked. oh.

“what did you mean by.. what you said a second ago?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “that i.. can ‘have anyone i want?’” your heart was beating fast, and it wasn’t caused by rage, this time.

for a moment, xiao looked vulnerable. “we don’t have to talk about this,” he whispered. “i know that we argue a lot, and i know that i can be a dick, but- i don’t hate you. i don’t.”

your heart was caught in your throat. “how do you feel about me?” you breathed.

his cheeks reddened. he clearly wasn’t used to being emotionally vulnerable, especially in front of you. “it’s complicated,” he said. “it’s not necessarily how i feel about you, but how you make me feel.”

a small smile creeped onto your lips. “well.. what are you involuntarily feeling?”

your smile seemed to relax him, if only slightly. he sighed. “i’ve been asking myself the same question for months. i mean, you always annoyed me- especially in the beginning. but, as time went on, i don’t know.. i started noticing little things.

“like the look in your eye when you’re winning an argument. or the one when you’re losing. how you bite your lip when you’re focused on something..” he trailed off. he looked up, finally meeting your eyes.

“like i said, it’s complicated,” he murmured. “but whatever i was feeling was.. warm. pleasant, even if i didn’t want it to be. then, you started hanging out with that childe guy, and these feelings went from warm to… hot. like a, a burning sensation, in my chest.”

just thinking about it seemed to frustrate him. “he made you laugh. you didn’t look at him like you wanted to kill him. i mean, you liked him. and i couldn’t stand it, because-”

he cut himself off, trying to muster up the courage to say whatever was about to come next. “i couldn’t stand that you would never see me the way you saw him.” his breathing was shaky. it made your heart ache.

your faces were so close.

“it drives me insane,” he continued. “you drive me insane. and i just want to-”

you cut him off, capturing his lips in a desperate, long-awaited kiss. he jumped at first, shocked, but melted into it before too long. his hands found themselves on your hips, gripping them firmly. pulling you closer to him. you tangled your fingers in his hair, relishing in the deep groan that escapes him when you tug on the strands.

he bit your lip as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. you whined and gasped for breath. you brought a hand to his cheek, brushing a piece of hair behind his ear. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that,” you whispered. his fingers dug into your waist.

“you’re not fucking childe?” he said. god, his eyes.

you shook your head.

“good.”

just like that, he was on you again. the kiss was rougher this time, hotter. teeth nipped at lips, tongues prodded at one another, hands made their way up your shirt. xiao pulled away briefly to remove it. he pushed you up against the desk as his lips chased yours once again. you had no objections, dizzy with lust.

he shoved a thigh between your legs and you moaned as he pressed it against you.

“god, look at you,” he whispered, his teeth against your neck. he moved his thigh, and you couldn’t stop your hips from grinding against it. there was an almost sinister look in his eye. it was sadistic, but adoring. your heart was fluttering in your chest.

“aw, baby,” he cooed, “i’ve hardly touched you. do you really need it that bad?” that condescending tone did something to you. a familiar fog was starting to form in your head. “i guess i should’ve seen this coming. smart girls like you love to be turned into dumb sluts in bed, right?”

a shiver ran down your spine. before you could respond, he moved his ground his thigh against you. an embarrassingly high pitched noise escaped your throat. “yeah, that’s what i thought,” xiao teased, sinking his teeth into your collarbone. your nails dug into his shoulder.

suddenly, he pulled away. you whined pitifully at the loss of contact, but the disappointment didn’t last long. your heart skipped a beat as you realized xiao had pulled away to take off his belt. that fog was getting hard to ignore.

he noticed you staring. “bend over the desk,” he commanded, “and hike up your skirt for me.”

as if your panties weren’t soaked enough before.

nervously, you bent yourself over the desk and pulled your skirt up, exposing the silk panties you had on underneath. they were genuinely comfortable. xiao picked a good day to confess.

you heard him inhale sharply behind you, taking you in. “fuck,” he whispered, running a hand up your thigh. you couldn’t help but squirm. “you’re already so wet i can see it through your panties. does it turn you on when i tell you what to do?”

two fingers traced the outline of your pussy over your panties. “or maybe it was the ‘dumb slut’ part, hmm?”

you moaned helplessly, wriggling your hips. “xiao, please,” you begged, “hurry up, i- i want it.”

“be patient,” he replied. you felt lips press against your inner thigh. your skin felt like it was on fire, his lips burning a trail everywhere they touched. you whimpered and squirmed, desperate.

“please, just- fucking get on with it,” you cried. your cunt was aching. you’d imagined xiao fucking you on shameful, lonely nights. especially on days like this, when the two of you had been at each other’s throats. and now it was here. real.

“god, please-”

“shut the fuck up, slut, or i’ll rip these panties off and gag you with them,” he growled. the fog won. you felt yourself melt into the desk, into submission. your hips stilled, and you bit your lip to keep from whining. every second that passed felt like a lifetime.

finally, he pulled your panties down, exposing your dripping sex. you gasped at the sensation of cold air against you. it only made you feel hotter.

he ran his middle and index finger up and down your folds, maddeningly slow. god, it was hard to keep quiet. you could hardly think about anything but xiao, xiao’s fingers, xiao’s dick.

you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning out loud when his fingers began to circle your clit. they were slow and gentle; you needed them to be more.

“you’re so beautiful,” xiao whispered. you hung on to his every word. “i want to take my time with you, and i promise i will, later.. but right now, i can’t help myself.” he took your wrists into one hand, holding them behind your back. he leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, “i’m going to fuck you senseless.”

you cried out as he plunged two fingers inside you, thrusting in and out roughly. it was a relief, but it wasn’t enough. you tried to grind your hips onto his fingers to no avail. “and you’re going to take what i give you, aren’t you, baby?” he said, kissing a particularly sensitive spot behind your ear.

“because you’re my good, stupid slut.” he added a third finger and curled them inside you, finally hitting the sweet spot he’d been searching for. you let out a low moan at the sensation. “you think you’re so smart, but look at you. trying to fuck yourself on my fingers. if i’d known this is all it takes to shut you up, i would’ve done this a long time ago.”

you mumbled out a pathetic, incoherent moan. you couldn’t even argue with him, you were so desperate.

“it’s okay, pretty girl,” he whispered. “i’ve got you. i’ll give you what you want. you just have to ask.”

you knew what that meant. “please,” you begged, “please- fuck me, xiao! i want it so bad, i’m so..” you trailed off, trying to hang on to your train of thought as he twisted his fingers inside you. your sentence became a string of incoherent please’s.

luckily for you, xiao was nearing the limit of his control. “good girl,” he said. you heard shuffling behind you as he positioned himself, the tip of his cock pressing against the entrance to your cunt. his grip on your wrists tightened. “take a deep breath, baby.”

he thrust his hips forward and finally, he was inside you. it stung at first, but you adjusted quickly. when he felt you relax, he pulled your wrists toward him, using them as leverage to better fuck into you.

“oh, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou,” you moaned, relishing in the feeling of him brushing against your g-spot. every thrust had you seeing stars.

“fuck, you feel so good,” xiao hissed, picking up the pace. he pressed kisses down your spine. “so pretty, such a good girl. you like being fucked rough like this, baby? is this what you needed?”

you let out another string of whimpers, nodding desperately. “it’s so good,” you slurred, “i’m close.”

he released your wrists to grab your forearm, pulling you up, against his chest. this angle was somehow better than the last, directly targeting that sweet spot he’d only been brushing before. “oh, yes! right there!” you cried.

xiao let out a growl, fucking you harder than before. “that’s right, you stupid slut. fucking take it,” he snarled, biting into your neck. “you wanna cum?”

you nodded feverishly, no longer bothering to quiet the little noises he forced out of you with each thrust. “yes, god, please,” you begged, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

he suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your back, thrusting inside you again without missing a beat. you grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to stay grounded. “tell me what you are,” he said, hardly louder than a whisper.

your cheeks were burning. you knew what he meant. in any other circumstance, you would’ve fought him on it, or at least tried to. but you’d never had dick this good in your life. you weren’t about to disobey him.

a thumb hovered above your clit. “tell me what you are,” he repeated, his gaze unwavering. you couldn’t resist him if you tried.

“i’m a dumb slut!” you cried, tears running freely now. he brought his thumb down, rubbing in time with his quick, rough thrusts. your eyes rolled back as you came, cunt clenching down desperately, legs shaking around his waist.

xiao was quick to follow, cumming inside you with a low, gravelly groan as he pulled your hips against him. you whined at the feeling.

as he came down, he pressed his lips to yours again, much gentler than he had earlier. you kissed him back, slowly gathering your bearings.

when you pull away, he peppers your cheeks with light kisses. “you were so good,” he whispered, “so good for me.” you hummed happily, capturing his lips once more.

he pulled out of you, much to your dismay. before you could demand another round, you were hit with a sudden realization. “oh, fuck,” you said, frantically pulling your shirt over your head.

his eyes widened and he put a hand on your arm. “what is it? what’s wrong?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. it was a cute look on him.

“the fucking case report,” you grumbled.

he grinned and gently tugged you back to his chest. “don’t worry. i can fix your half in, like, thirty minutes.”

you shot him an annoyed but amused look. “you’re an asshole,” you said. he pressed a kiss to your nose.

“you love it,” he replied.

and you did.

[jenomark]

•FRIENDS WITH•

➔Pairing: Jaemin x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Mentions of Jeno ➔Genre: Romance & Angst & Smut ➔Warnings: Sex, Drinking, A lot of pining etc. ➔Word count: 4,338

➔Summary: Three best friends. One is your ex, the other is someone you've been in love with for a long time, and the third friend is you. You're a mess, but you're trying your best to find your way back to where you belong.

When you opened the door, Jaemin was there, just like he’d always been. Standing on your front porch, with one hand in his pocket, and the other below his heart, as if he had trouble keeping it in place. He was wearing loose fitting sweatpants, and a white t-shirt that left little to the imagination.

“Were you sleeping?” you asked.

“I was tossing and turning before you called,” he said, leaning against the doorway. “May I come in?”

Jaemin had always walked into your house uninvited. He never knocked, normally never announced his presence. Sometimes, you would come home from work, and he would be sitting on your couch eating all of your food, feet up on the table, a lazy smile on his face. It was like he lived with you, coming and going as he pleased, a piece of furniture in your life. But this time, he didn’t waltz past you like he owned the place. He asked for your permission first. There was something about that permission that sat like dead weight at the bottom of your stomach.

“I wouldn’t have called if…” you said, trailing off.

What else could you really say? I wouldn’t have called if Jeno hadn’t dumped me. Jeno, you know him, right? Our other best friend.

Jaemin stood underneath the porch light, the glow morphing his sweet features into stone. His jaw clenched and unclenched, as it often did when he was thinking too much. When you moved aside to grant his permission, he smiled and slipped by you without saying much. The hairs on his arm brushed against yours.

That is when the tears started to fall.

You followed him through the darkness of your home. It had been yours for over a year now, but it felt as much his as it did yours. You hadn’t thought to turn on any of the lights. You came home and immediately called him, because Jaemin always knew how to take care of you. You had sat in the darkened hallway, sprawled across the stairs, until Jaemin pulled up in his car.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked.

He turned on your lights as he went, each knob or pull of a string easy for him to find. You caught sight of your reflection in a picture frame on the fireplace and turned away. You didn’t want to know what he could see. You already knew what kind of woman would be staring back.

“It’s late, “ you said.

He laughed, “It’s barely midnight, my love.”

“You were sleeping.”

“I wasn’t sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, again.

Jaemin turned and looked at you in the light for the first time. You had left your shoes in the car, so you were barefoot. You’d been crying for what felt like hours, eyes feeling like they were swollen shut. You were dressed in one of Jeno’s t-shirts that was too big on your frame. If you moved, you could still smell Jeno all around you.

“Let's get you cleaned up,” he said.

Once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop. Jaemin reached up to wipe them away, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw before they began to roll down your neck. As he ushered you to your bedroom, he didn’t ask what happened. He had enough respect for you and Jeno not to ask. You knew deep down that his anger fought against him, told him not to react. He once said it was his duty as a best friend to hurt all of the boys who hurt you, but no one ever told him what to do if the boy who hurt you was his best friend, too.

You changed into pajamas and watched trashy reality television until you thought he was asleep. You curled your legs underneath you on the couch and watched him a little while longer. You watched his chest rise and fall, his t-shirt lightly clinging to his chest. He was a busy man, but he would drop anything for his friends. You continually felt like you didn’t deserve him.

“You deserve better, you know,” he said, peering at you through his half-opened eyes, his eyelids heavy with sleep.

“I’m not sure that’s true,” you whispered.

Jaemin stretched his hands over his head. You couldn’t keep your eyes from wandering over to the little sliver of his exposed stomach. You couldn’t keep any thoughts from wondering what it would feel like to kiss him there, letting your lips trail below the waistband of his sweatpants.

He hadn’t dated anyone for nearly two years. He said it was because no women approached him, but you had a theory that he was lying through his teeth. Jaemin had always been a good-looking guy. His kind eyes and weird sense of humor made women fall for him as quickly as they met him. He was single because it was his choice.

“The guys you date are awful,” he said.

“Even Jeno?” you asked.

Though it was dark again, and all you could see were parts of his face illuminated by the television, you could tell he was irritated.

“What kind of man do I deserve?” you found yourself asking out loud.

Part of you wanted him to say that you deserved him. You held onto the hope that you could be with each other one day, that you had simply fallen in love with the wrong friend. Best friends shouldn’t hope for that. It felt greedy to want that life with him.

“I don’t know,” he said. You could practically hear his smile in his words. “Someone who is kind and funny, and knows how beautiful you are. He has to like the things you like.”

You laughed, burying your head in my arms. Jaemin laughed along with you, humming a song you’d been in love with since you were a kid, and twisting his hips around on your couch. It always baffled you how easily he could recall things you’d told him years ago.

“I can think of a million people like that, Jaem.”

“Yeah?” he asked, raising one eyebrow. “Well, they’re not good people, and they certainly don’t deserve my girl.”

You both fell silent, staring at anything around the room but each other. You placed your feet on the floor and leaned your back against the couch.

Do you know how hard it is to realize for the first time that you love someone? It’s not like you can admit it, pack up all of your baggage, take them by the hand, and push your way into a future of bliss. They have to want you back. You have to fight for it. And there are consequences.

Truth be told, you wouldn’t have chosen Jeno at all if Jaemin had loved you back when it was time to. But you did choose him, and you can’t rewind your life to a place in the movie where everyone is happy and everything is right.

“I’m looking in the wrong places, huh?” you asked him. “ I settled. How many times can I do this to myself? How many times can both of us waste our lives sitting on this couch waiting for something to happen?”

“ I like it here,” he said, patting the cushions. “Your couch is my second bed, and you have great snacks.”

You wanted to laugh, but felt tears welling up again. You angled your body so that you were facing him. His eyes were trained on you, but there was no laugh caught on the edge of his lips, and no smile reaching his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” was all he said.

You and Jaemin fell into a post-breakup routine. You would hang out when he was on break from filming music videos, and you would never talk about what happened until the next time another man broke your heart. He cracked jokes all day to cheer you up, and you laughed until it hurt. Your time together ended before the sun went down, and he would always hug you goodbye a second too long. And you loved those hugs. Being close to him meant feeling what it would be like if you could hug him whenever you wanted. He held you tightly, wrapping his arms all the way around your body. It left you breathless.

Sometimes, you would visit him on set, avoiding Jeno by a mile, and sitting by Jaemin just to be near him. He always got so lost in the monitoring that he forgot you were there. He did this thing where his face would get serious, concentration turning it to stone. You always had to break him out of the spell and remind him to eat something to keep his energy.

Jaemin is and will always be your best friend. You loved him like a best friend. When it began to feel like more, you needed him more. You felt a little bit like you were constantly reaching out for his hand; it just always fell short. And then there were times when you would push him away. You don’t know why you did it.

“You should date more, “ you said. “ Let a girl wine and dine you.”

He laughed. “I don’t need to date , and I certainly don't need to get drunk to have a good time. That's what I have you for.”

“I’m being serious, Jaem.”

He looked up from his mc hosting script. “I know you are, but the question is why you’re being serious with me?”

Because I am mindlessly in love with you, and I am terrified of what it means for me. If you fall in love with someone else, I can just say that it wasn’t meant to be and move on. I don’t want to face the truth that you might never love me back.

“I’ve always wanted to double date,” you said lamely. “It sounds fun.”

“It sounds horrible. How about I swing by after work with a pizza and some nice cola, and we make fun of everyone that’s hurt us?” he asked. “Double dating a slice of spicy pizza isn’t a bad idea. ”

“Sure,” you said.

Your routine was full-proof if you wanted to spend the rest of your life watching reality television with your crush while you thought about burying your face into his chest.

“Have you thought about dating again?” he asked. “You and Jeno seem alright now. You can almost stand to be in the same room together.”

It had been months since you and Jeno broke up, and it was the first time Jaemin had brought him up in a while. The other night, you returned Jeno’s t-shirt to him and talked about how you felt the night he broke up with you. Although your initial friendship would never be the same, you felt like everything would be okay.

“Dating is a bad idea for me.” you said.

“Why not? You can’t sit on the couch for the rest of your life, darling.” he smirked.

Jaemin always stepped so delicately around your dating life, but there was something in his eyes that was reckless and uncaring. He was pushing you, and you weren't sure how you should push back.

“Why have a boyfriend when I have you?” you blurted. Fuck. “I mean, because you...do..things”

He looked up at you, again. The silence in the room was awkward. All you could do from setting yourself on fire was act like a spot on the wall was more important than the entire conversation.

“I..do..things?” he asked.

“No.”

“No I don’t do...things?”

You shook your head. Unfortunately, it left him more confused than ever.

Jaemin said your name, and the way he said it made you feel dizzy. It was like he was pleading with you to finally tell the truth, to admit what you really meant by it. It should have been the moment when you confessed that you were head over heels in love with him, and that it was never going to be about Jeno again.

“I should go,” you said, picking up your bag.

You were scared that if you looked at him and saw the disappointment on his face, you would cry. You knew it was there. You could feel it coming at you in waves.

“See you later tonight?” you asked, popping a thin smile on my lips.

You hovered around the doorway. Jaemin cleared his throat and said, “Actually, I just remembered that I can’t. I have a lot of work to do.”

You nodded and left, hating yourself for not saying anything else.

You hadn’t spoken much in a month. You created the ripple that disturbed the whole dynamic. You felt like you had embarrassed him by suggesting he was yours to claim. Of course he wasn’t yours. He wouldn’t ever be yours. Look at you.

You had been going on dates with a man whose name didn’t matter. He was nice enough, but you didn’t think you would make it past date two. He seemed too into his hair, and he didn’t truly think you were funny. He laughed at your jokes too easily, just like Jeno did, which somehow bothered you. Jaemin would have told you the truth- that you were trying too hard.

I think I am trying too hard. I’m trying too hard to forget him, but he’s all I fucking think about. The way he licks his lips before he talks, and how his humor is always so self-deprecating, but so damn witty. How he’ll dance to anything just to make even the sourest of people smile. He’s the kind of man that is intelligent one moment but extremely stupid the next. He is the kind of man that makes people fall in love with themself.

“You look good,” the mystery date man said, breaking your reverie. He opened the car door for you and checked his watch, impatiently. “I think we might be late for the reservation.”

“Sorry for taking so long to get ready. I sometimes forget what I’m doing.” you said.

“We’ll have to eat somewhere else,” he said.

He put his hand on your thigh when you got into the car. You let it rest there for a few seconds before you shifted your body and he got the hint.

“You look really nice tonight.” he said.

“Thank you so much.” you smiled.

The mystery man was decent looking, if you liked the type of man who looks like he canoes for fun. He was stable, which was good. You could tell he would be a great man for some girl one day, and that maybe she would like getting fingerbanged in the front seat of a car from the 1990's.

When he started the car, he was still looking at you adoringly. You felt like you were being mentally skinned alive from his stare, so you looked away.

“Oh my God.” you said.

The mystery man's eyes snapped to your line of sight. Standing in the gleam of the headlights was Jaemin. His white dress shirt was untucked from his pants, and his tie was shoved into the pocket of his dinner jacket. He stood with one hand on his hip. In his other hand, he held an empty bottle of wine.

“Holy shit, is that a kpop idol?” the mystery man asked.

“In the flesh,” you said, bewildered.

He rolled down his window and yelled, “What’s up, man?”

By the way Jaemin was standing, you could tell he was drunk. He didn’t need to have the evidence stuffed into his right hand. Drunk Jaemin was a show to behold. He didn’t drink much, or ever, but when he did, he usually ended up hurting himself from doing something stupid.

“Get out of the car,” Jaemin said, pointing at the mystery man.” I’m gonna kick your ass, man.”

And there was the something stupid.

“What did he just say?” the mystery man asked.

“I believe he said, “Have a nice date!’,” you answered. “Please drive away now.”

“I’ll hit him with my car if I do.” the mystery man said. “He’s so drunk, look at him. Should I film this?”

“Holy fuck, no, you shouldn’t film this,” you said.

Jaemin got on his knees in front of the car and started crawling towards you. He was making animal noises and pawing at the ground. It wasn’t the weirdest thing Jaemin had done, but it was definitely going towards the top of the list.

“Jaemin, get up.” you shouted. “You’re going to hurt your knees.”

“I’m already hurt.” he shouted back.

“This guy is a legend,”the mystery man whispered.

You rolled your eyes and opened the car door. Jaemin looked up at you and found it too difficult, so he looked down at the ground.

“Up,” you said, sternly.

“Make me.” Jaemin said.

You snatched the bottle still clutched in his fist and threw it across your lawn. Like a petulant child, he got onto his feet and tried chasing after it. You blocked his path.

“Did you sleep with him?” Jaemin asked, trying to get around you.

You could feel red-hot heat creeping to your face. “That is none of your business.”

“You didn’t call me,” he said. “You call me, and I come running to save the day, but you didn’t. You didn’t call.”

“She doesn’t need saving” the mystery man said, waving his hand.

“You didn’t call,” Jaemin repeated.

“I’m not heartbroken,” you said, swallowing the large lump that formed in your throat.

“I am.” he said, touching his hand just below his heart. “Do you love him?”

You could feel a hysteric laugh bubbling to your throat. The situation was too damn funny to you. At the mention of love, the mystery man recoiled back into his car.

“I’m gonna go,” he said.

“Good idea,” you said. “I’m gonna sober up kpop guy. I’ll call you..or I won’t.”

You took Jaemin’s arm and led him up your front steps, never looking back. He groaned and clutched his head in pain.

“Good,” you said. “Maybe it will teach you a lesson.”

“Doubt it,” he grumbled.

You led him inside and thought of how different this was from months ago when he was the one taking care of you.

“Sit. I’ll get you some water and make up the couch for you.” you said.

You went into the kitchen and took a glass down from a shelf. You took a minute to collect myself, leaning your hip against the counter for support. Seeing Jaemin after a long period of time always brought the memories flooding back. You weren't angry with him, because there was no reason to be. You just couldn’t keep the pieces of yourself together when he looked at you like you caused him physical pain.

“You look pretty,” Jaemin said.

You turned around and saw that he was standing in the doorway, gripping the frame to keep from falling over.

“And I mean really pretty,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“I fucked up”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I ruined your date.”

“I didn’t like him, anyway.”

“He didn’t do... things?” Jaemin asked.

“No, Jaem. He didn’t do things.”

“You sound angry with me.”

“I’m just tired.”

“I’m sorry I’m drunk.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

He shuffled towards you. Under the fluorescent lights, his eyes were glassy and red. He couldn’t quite focus on your face. You filled up the glass of water and handed it to him. His fingers touched yours as he took the glass from you.

“I missed you,” he said.

You smiled and meant it. “You should rest tonight, keep hydrated, and we’ll talk about it in the morning before I leave for work.”

He nodded. “Okay. In the morning.”

Jaemin fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. You watched him from the bottom of the stairs. He was moaning in his sleep, one arm flung over the couch, and he was drooling. You wanted nothing more than to go to him and run your fingers through his hair to calm him, but you couldn’t bring myself to move from the spot.

You had tried to work out your feelings for the past month while he went missing from your life. You tried to pick apart all the reasons why you felt like you needed him. You tried moving on, but there was no moving on from him. You had every intention of falling out of love with him, but if falling out of love was easier, everyone would do it.

Dammit, Na Jaemin.

You woke up around 4 a.m. to feel Jaemin crawling underneath your sheets. He was quiet and careful not to touch you. You both laid side by side, inches apart, and listened to the rain beginning to drum on your window. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, just knowing that he was so close to you, that you could feel his body heat warming your own. Your breathing felt so loud in the stillness. You controlled each breath, focusing only on the way your chest rose and fell beside him.

You reached out and let your fingers touch the soft skin on his forearm. You couldn’t feel him move at all, as he took your hand in his and squeezed it tightly.

Neither of you spoke. Even if you could have gotten the words out, you didn’t know what either of you would say. You just laid there, the only movement coming from his thumb massaging your palm.

And it was a perfect moment. You turned your body onto his, interlocking both of his hands with yours to steady yourself. Your hair cascaded onto his chest and fell a little into his mouth. He pushed it back to get a good look at the plains of your face in the moonlight. His eyes were cleared now, focused on your mouth. You sat up, straddling him with your knees on either side of his slim hips. You rubbed your thumb across his wet lips, the tip of his tongue colliding with it. His eyes dared you to kiss him, but you were too slow. Jaemin yanked your wrists, pulling you back down to him. His lips brushed against yours, teasingly. You wanted to taste him, to devour him. You pressed your palms against his chest and leaned down for the kiss, parting your lips to let him know that you were all his. Kissing him was like kissing a moment. You kissed all of your laughter, all of your pain. You kissed all of your hellos and goodbyes.

Jaemin’s hands roamed underneath your shirt, holding the small of your back to keep you in place as he pushed against you, harder. Your body rocked against his, grinding him lightly as his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing it. You couldn’t taste the alcohol on his breath. His lips would make you drunk without it. You needed him all around you. You needed to know what he felt like inside of you.

You were frantic, grabbing at each other like it was the last time, instead of the first time. He leaned his body up so that you were both sitting. His lips worked their way down your neck. Your body felt like electricity everywhere he touched you.

You unbuttoned his shirt agonizingly slow. Jaemin’s dark eyes were ravenous as you made your way carefully down to each button. He pushed your hands away as you got to the last one and ripped it from his body. Your fingers curled around his belt and yanked it away from him.

A sound escaped from his mouth that you could only explain as crazed. He wasn’t intoxicated anymore, but he looked like a man whose self-control had vanished. Holding you tightly, he flipped you over so that he was on top, his body fitting against yours like a glove. His weight felt good on top of you, almost scandalous. You could feel every muscle of his against you, every soft spot resting against your stomach when he breathed. You could feel his cock, could feel the hunger burning inside of you with the thought of him fucking you.

Jaemin stopped only momentarily to get a good look at you from above. A smile broke out onto his face, as his eyes covered every inch of your skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” he said.

He slid your panties down your legs, brought your t-shirt over your head, and let his hands feel you. When he slipped a finger inside of you, you arched your back, and your breasts met his mouth. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. You swayed your body into his fingers, letting his thumb brush against your clit.

The lazy smile didn’t leave his lips. Every time your body moved, he went with it, leaving a trail of kisses behind. He wouldn’t let you come. Every time you got closer and closer, he would stop and watch how you squirmed beneath him.

You wrapped your legs around his waist to tell him that you were ready. You couldn’t wait any longer. He kissed you softly on the lips, reeled back and let his cock enter you. You exhaled as he moved inside of you, his body meeting yours, and his hands holding you down. You reached out for him, and he lowered himself so that you could dig your nails into the flesh of his back. A moan escaped from his lips as you brought those fingers to his neck. You let them tangle in his hair and pulled his strands until his moans turned low and gravelly. You could feel the pace picking up.

Jaemin couldn’t control himself any more. He wanted all of you, every last drop. You pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. As you lowered yourself down onto his cock, he whispered, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

[its-me-im-coraline]

NSFW Alphabet // Ethan Torchio

words // 2383

warnings // smut, clearly its nsfw headcannons

pairing // Ethan Torchio x GN!Reader (might be mentions that seem like they are for f reamer but comeon theres lingerie for every body 👁️👄👁️)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. an apology to the people on my tag list i think i accidentally have not been tagging you this whole time i am so so so sorry omg

request // yes, it was a reblog i cant find it right now

summary // self explanatory

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Regarding you, Ethan is the king of after care. As rough as he can be in bed, that’s just how sweet he can be once you're done with it. Goes full on dad mode (don’t know how else to explain this). He will have water, painkillers if you’re now in pain, a washcloth to clean you up, new clothes, and of course the cuddles.

“I’m alright, Ethan. I can do it on my own,” you say as Ethan walks to you with the wet cloth ready to clean the mess he made on your body.

“I know you can, amore. I just want to take care of you,” he says as he leaves a kiss on your lips.

I can also see him being the one to make a big fat breakfast the morning after, or at least get up early to pick something up.

Now I also feel that he is in need of some aftercare. It depends on the day really, if he’s had a pretty rough day and all I feel like he’d ask for some backrubs after. In this case he’d fall asleep so quickly like omg. But on the biggest part I see him feeling the need to reassure you that the things he said (i think we already established that this man would call you a slut) are not how he feels about you and will be asking if you feel the same.

“Do you love me?”

“Wha- of course I do, Ethan! Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know… I guess - I guess I am worried that you don’t after what I said.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When it comes to himself I feel like he really likes his chest and arms. Like I don’t know but I see him really getting off with you pretty much mastubating on his chest. Ya know what I mean? (i think you do you little sluts). He pretty much enjoys anything you do on his chest. I can imagine him looking at the mirror after you two had sex, seeing the cum on his chest along with the marks you have left and just smiling.

“What are you looking at, love?” You ask, seeing as the man is standing in front of the bathroom mirror from your spot on the hotel bed.

“Nothing, just the mess you made.”

“Mhm, and I bet you like it, huh?”

“You have no idea… Hey, are you sure you got tired? Cause I think I can do another round.”

As for his arms, as I said, he simply really enjoys that he can man handle you anytime, get you in any position he likes and feel you scratching them from the pleasure.

When it comes to you, Ethan is an ass guy. Say what you want but the man is an ass guy, end of discussion. He loves anything that involves your but. It does not explicitly have to be something like anal. He simply enjoys seeing your butt and holding it in his hand. It does not matter if it’s big or not, if it has stretch marks or whatever. Wear lingerie that he likes or that itty bitty teeny weeny bikini if you wear them or even some tight pants that make your butt just poìp and he can not contain himself.

I think I have said that to someone here (i think I had sent an ask to zodi @ icouldbeyourputtet) before but I feel like this man is very into spanking, like not even the rough malicious way. but this very wholesome chill way.

You had been talking about it all day, not having had a minute alone with each other for days, you could only dream what you could do that night after everyone left.

A playlist was playing in the background and a cigarette was burning on the ashtray next to your legs, you assuming a similar position, as said cigarette, bent over Ethan’s lap as he caressed your ass cheeks and back, playing around with the lingerie set he had gifted you a while back. (Did I just go to search my fave porn vid, lol exposing myself, and get disappointed because I can’t find it and translate it into fanfiction? yes yes i did, so bare with what i can remember)

“It’s okay, baby, you can take a little more, come on,” he praised, leaving a spank and yet another soft rub on the very red cheek.

He continued, going with the music, a very nice pattern, not very rough spanks but just enough to cause pain, pleasure and redness all over. Accidentally the man landed a few very rough ones causing a gasp and a series of giggles as you practically fell off his lap.

“Ethan, what the hell?” You laughed getting up from the floor and this time sitting on the man’s lap, sharing kisses with him.

“What,” he copied your action and laughed, “it was not intentional. I got carried away by how nice your butt is.”

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He is and is not messy. He will not want the cum to be in every surface possible you know, he will be careful but at the same time this man just loves to see his cum on you, whether it’s your back or your stomach, or in you if you’re ok with it. I bet he has a teeny weeny breeding kink but not necessarily because of the idea of breeding you but rather because he looooves seeing his cum run out of you… I'm not sure if this falls in the breeding kink category but alright

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes to fuck you while watching porn.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I feel like he is pretty experienced. From what they band has said in interviews and stuff, he seems to be getting some pretty often (no one, NO ONE, is surprised at that). He is not acting arrogant tho (not unless that’s the dynamic of the night), he is willing to learn what works for you and you specifically

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As I said this man is an ass guy so I’d say anything that involves having the view of your ass. Humor me but i think he’d really like 69 with a female/afab partner (don’t know if this works very well with two dick-baring people lol). It has it all, eating you out,

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think it can be both with him. He will not exactly try to make jokes but if something like the previously mentioned spanking incident happens it’s def welcome.

Now as a general rule I see him being pretty serious. I will be honest, I’m getting brat tamer vibes from this man so it’s all pretty serious when you really get into it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Considering he’s an Italian man and if you look at a lot of photos of him he def fit the ‘mediterenean’ man type. I see him just barely grooming. I don’t see him really shaving or whatever but he also wouldn’t want you to choke on pupic hair, he much rathers you choke on his dick

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It all depends, really. He can be quite intimate with you but it all depends on the moment. There are different occasions for everything. For example, and this is a paradox that I hope I’m explaining well enough to understand, he is not very rough (will not be very aggressive and stuff, like to the extreme those tik tok boys want to pretend they are with their * growling * ew) but he will be rough. intimidating looks, spanking just enough to make you feel pain and redden up your ass cheeks. He’s like that mostly when you are being bratty.

Most of the times, like we’re talkin kind of lazy sex moments, it more wholesome ig, like very intimate and just comfortable and almost comforting. Ok, but like why do i see him having sex and having casual conversation (not the most common, i see this as like lazy day off, having nothing else to do and not being like super horny but being more like h o r n y … am i making sense?)

Setting the scene, you two are at home, both have a day off but it’s kind of raining so any of your plans are ruined. At this point it’s at around 10 am, not early, not late. You have missed each other and both have made it obvious but you are both in a very tired state so you opt for something not too much.

Plain and simple missionary is what goes around this time, Ethan on top just holding your legs around his waist,, going at a pretty medium pace.

“It’s a pity the weather is bad today,” says Ethan staring out the window.

“I know, we were going to go to the beach… I’m bummed about it,” you say, short of breath as the man continues his pace fucking you.

“Mhm, true. But this is better, amore, no? I’ve missed you so much,” he breaths out the last part, moans interrupting his words.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does that pretty often, especially if you are not around to help. Sometimes it’s because of you that he needs to. I would def see him exchanging naked pics with you and at first he does that to tease you but he ends up teased when he sees a video you sent of you masturbating.

Bets that he’d be taking photos and vids of you fucking on occasion so he goes to these when he misses you on tour.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As I mentioned previously I see Ethan to be a brat tamer. That I see to be the main kink that kind of works around everything else.

“Can you stop this, slut? It has gotten exhausting. I told you no noise but here you are,” he ordered, looking down at you trembling below his finger tips.

His face was quite stoic, voice never wavering from the strict and cold tone he tended to have when scolding you on the daily. Most times it was leaving a cup out of the sink but this time the scolding came from misbehaving. As if it was not enough that he was punishing you for being a brat and riling him up all morning, now you had to disobey orders. It was getting to him for sure.

“I’m sorry daddy,” you whisper, Ethan seeming satisfied with the response.

“Aw, why so tame puppy, now you decide to be nice?” His tone stayed the same, his words imitating a joke but the whole ordeal was not even close to it.

Now as for other kinks (did I open a site because I could not think? yes, shut up), as a result of being a brat tamer dom there are some few more kinks accompanying specifically that. He is def into bondage, both tying you up but also being tied up on occasion.

“Puppy, I have told you that is not a way to treat me. Untie me,” he says calmly, wrists tied on the headboard of the bed, eyes fixated to you.

“Well, why not? You do it all the time,” you whine, placed on all fours, facing Ethan as you lean towards him on your hands, “I want in on the fun.”

If only he was not tied… Ethan’s mind was already going places, figuring out exactly how he would punish you after you untie him -or after he escapes the restrains, whatever comes first. You knew that, very well - in all honestly that was the plan, that is always the plan.

“Amore, let me go. Let me go and your punishment will be tame,” he voiced looking at you, now positioned on top of his lap, touching yourself right then and there.

“I sense you want to be punished puppy, don't you?” You simply nod your head, eyes closed in pleasure.

“You see, the problem is you will not enjoy what I am thinking.”

“Mhmn.”

“Well, get yourself off now that you can, cause after I get my hands on you… You’re not getting to cum for days, amore.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Honestly, anywhere. I can see him having a preference to the luxury of either of your houses or a hotel room but if you push his buttons just right, some restaurant’s bathroom it is.

why can i imagine him having sex at a weeding venue’s bathroom….. omg…..

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Honestly, both. I feel like he would be extremely good at giving it, but would never opposed to receiving

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s ok with them but he doesn’t love them, ya know?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

Is surely try to do new things but it will always depends on what it is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Come on. This goes without saying. He is a drummer for a living. He can surely go on for long…

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I def feel like he has a fair amount of toys. Some for himself, some for you… He looooves using them to punish you.

(small mention to my last fic little puppet)

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A ton! It’s his specialty. Maybe one of his most common punishments is edging and teasing. He can drag it on for days

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is not very loud but is surely encouraging you to be.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost

[hi-hey-haechan]

Hi! Could u plz do 37+52+53 w/ Dom!Jeno & possibly light choking? Thank you, I love your work! ☺️💕

Thank you!

37. "Can he make you feel as good as I do?"

52. "You're so fucking hot when you're mad"

53. "We're not just friends and you fucking know it"

Warning: light choking kink

Friends with benefits. That was all you and Jeno were: friends who just had sex sometimes.

Sure, Jeno was by far the sweetest boy you know, who also just so happened to have the same sense of humor as you, and who also was fucking gorgeous. No big deal, though - you were just friends. That's what he always assured you. And you always did the same. You weren’t supposed to be in love with your best friend, the same person who watched awful comedies with you and gave you advice whenever and wherever.

And yet here you were, out on a date with Renjun, and all you could think about was Jeno. Now, Jeno didn’t know that you were out with one of his closest friends, but he shouldn’t care...right? If he just saw you as a friend, then he had no right to be jealous. Maybe Renjun would be your first step in getting over Jeno before you fell even deeper.

“Hey,” Renjun’s sweet voice sounded, “are you okay? You seem sort of preoccupied.”

Renjun was your friend, and he was smart and kind and handsome. You loved him, but not the way you loved Jeno. However, Renjun had asked you out, and you weren’t opposed to the idea of getting over your unrequited love. You wanted to spare yourself more pain you’d feel in the future.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just school,” you gave him what you hoped to be a convincing smile. Realistically, you couldn’t help but think about Jeno’s slight choking kink, how his veiny, long hand and fingers pressed lightly into your throat, cutting off some oxygen to your brain. His face had a hard look set on it when he choked you, kind of the way he’d look while rapping on stage, as opposed to making a mess of you under him.

The date was going well. Renjun didn’t try to flirt with you; you didn’t flirt with him. The food was amazing, and you guys made casual small talk and shared a few laughs. It was casual and nice. Here was the bad thing, though: you didn’t feel that way about Renjun.

You wanted it to be Jeno who was laughing with you like this, and raving over the incredible restaurant food. Why, Jeno? Why do I have to be in love with you, when I’m not supposed to? Why can’t I do this without messing it up? The entire date, you were preoccupied, and you hoped that Renjun didn’t notice.

When you were walking home, you turned on your phone for the first time in two hours, since you’d kept it off while with Renjun. You were shocked to find four missed calls from Jeno, and possibly a million texts. Shit, you thought to yourself, suddenly remembering. You were supposed to have met Jeno at your place for dinner and a terrible Netflix movie, commonly a Friday-night tradition.

He’d texted that he’d be at your house whenever you decided to show up, so you legitimately ran home, guilt present in your entire being.

The door flew open, your chest heaving as you panted, doubled-over in your doorway. Jeno’s head swiveled to look at you, alarmed at the sudden disturbance of his silence. His brown hair had fallen over his eyes, and his beautiful lips were slightly parted.

You wanted to kiss his perfect lips. You never kissed, due to it being too “intimate” for the casual sex you guys were having. However, that didn’t change how badly you wanted to kiss him, to feel his warm mouth against yours, your bodies close as you told him “I love you” from a simple action. You stared at his mouth constantly, wondering how it would feel to straddle his hips while kissing him deeply.

“Wow,” said Jeno, unimpressed, “you’re only two hours late. Where the hell were you?” His jaw was set, and through his hair, you could see his furrowed eyebrows and piercing glare.

“I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“Answer the question.”

“I was on a date with Renjun.”

And suddenly, Jeno was on his feet. He looked as though he could barely believe the words you’d just uttered. You looked at his ears, which were often a warning sign for his emotions. The tips were red, and it was clear to see: He was pissed. “Renjun,” he stated, as though he could barely believe it. “You went on a date. With my best friend.”

“Why the heck do you look so mad at me?”

“You ditched me, your best friend, to go out with a boy you like.”

“I don’t like him like that, Jeno,” you assured him truthfully. You liked Jeno, of course, but that was beside the point. “What’s wrong with me dating guys, either? It’s not like we’re dating. It’s not cheating on you.”

“It is if you’re fucking him.”

“How?” you inquired, beginning to get angry now. You had come home to apologize, not to argue. Who cared if his voice was, at the moment, so deep and dominant to the point where every syllable of his went directly to your core. “We aren’t in a relationship with feelings. You’re allowed to fuck other people.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

“No!” you insisted angrily. “I’m not like that.” The kind to have sex on the first date, that is.

“But him? You ditched me for Renjun. You’ve been such a bad girl tonight. And what happens to bad girls?”

“They get punishments.” Finally, what you had been imagining all day.

“Finally, you got something right.” Jeno’s ears were red as heck, and his stare was so intimidating that you almost wanted to look away. He bit his lip in frustration, something he did when he was really angry. He brushed his hair out of his eyes before walking right over to you. The both of you slowly tumbled back until you hit the wall. His strong, lithe body was keeping you in place. You were conscious of every single muscle he was pressing against you, and you could feel their slightest tensions.

You needed to say what was on your mind, for your entire being was screaming those words at that second. You were also mentally screaming “I love you,” but that wasn’t exactly something you could say to your friend with benefits. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

Kiss me, you wanted to tell him. With his face just inches from yours, it was killing you to not break the distance. You kept your eyes locked with his, showing him that you weren’t going to submit to him so easily.

“You’re probably already dripping wet for me, aren’t you? Just seeing me get mad? Or is it for Renjun?” His face had moved so he was whispering in your ear. His hot breath fanned against your skin, and his lips barely, just barely, brushed the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps through your entire body.

Jeno picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He threw you onto the bed when he reached your bedroom. Jeno stripped you immediately, his hands frantic and eager as he removed the layers that separated you two.

Your thighs had been pressing together, attempting to relieve some of the aching that you felt in your core. He hadn’t been wrong when he asked if you were wet. The idea of him doing this to you had been in your head all day, and now it was finally happening.

His hand moved in between your legs, separating them to expose your core.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running his fingers up the slit of your hole, two fingers collecting some of your juices. He ignored the whimper you let out and the bucking of your hips against his hand. “You’re so wet. And it’s all for me, right? Or is it for Renjun?”

There was a slight tinge of vulnerability in his voice, as though he genuinely was worried you’d replace him with Renjun. As a result, you said, “Y-you, it’s always you.” Your last sentence had meaning in so many different forms. You meant it not only in moments like these, but in moments when you just looked at him or talked to him, struck by the person he was.

Since you were so wet, foreplay wasn’t a necessity in this circumstance. Jeno didn’t hesitate to slam himself inside of you, forcing a strangled cry out of your throat, due to the sudden pain of his thick length stretching you out impossibly. The pain was sharp down at your core, but you knew it would fade away soon. For now, you just clutched onto the sheets for dear life.

As he continued to thrust, his thick length managed to hit parts inside of you that were deeper than what he’d initially gotten. He was definitely, not in any way, shy in size, and every time you had sex with him, he’d manage to make you scream his name from just his cock alone. This was only emphasized every time he fucked you.

Pleas, for him to know how much you wanted to cum from his cock. Moans, to tell him how good he was making you feel with each small movement. Cries of his name whenever he managed to find your g-spot, to urge him to continue on. You did all of these whenever he had sex with you, and you fell in love with him more and more.

At this point, his hips thrusted with everything he had, going so fast that you couldn’t even speak or think. When your mouth opened to speak, whimpers and cries passed your lips and skin. Under Jeno, you were always falling apart, completely at his expense.

“Renjun, could he make you feel as good as I do?” Jeno’s voice was practically a growl, and you almost didn’t hear him, both due to how high on pleasure you were and how loud your own moans were. You tried to speak, but a moan fell from your lips instead. “Not gonna answer, hmm?” And at that, his fingers closed around your neck.

It was so hot, how his long fingers and veiny hands grasped your neck, putting the lightest amount of pressure on it. You could breathe, but not clearly. He pressed onto your throat with the slightest amount of force, enough to cut off a small part of your breathing. His face was above yours, fierce and caught up in the moment. His hips were thrusting so powerfully, hitting your g-spot. You could hardly moan out, due to your being choked, but the pleasure was sending you so high. Your eyes were almost rolling into the back of your head, unable to maintain control over your body or the sounds leaving your lips. Then again, there really weren’t any sounds leaving your lips, at this point.

You tightened around him, clenching around his member. The way his tip was hitting your g-spot was pushing you closer and closer to your edges. Jeno let out a swear at how you clenched. “You gonna cum for me? You gonna scream my name?”

Your legs were already shaking. His arm and hand were keeping you in place, head against the pillow. Your eyes had rolled back in ecstasy, and if your eyes weren’t rolled back, you’d be watching how his face screwed in pleasure, eyes closing, jaw slackening, eyebrows furrowed while his hair clung to his forehead with sweat.

You took in a shallow gasp for air, all you could really muster. With a final thrust, your world came crashing down around you, walls closing in around his member. His hand withdrew from your neck, allowing you to legitimately scream out Jeno’s name, body spasming from the intense orgasm that was sending pleasurable waves through your entire building. Your jaw hung open as you inhaled air and cried out his name on multiple occasions, in the span of some seconds.

Your orgasm had sent him over the edge, thrusting a final time as his load shot up inside of you, his hot seed painting your walls. His low moans had filled the room, and they were so hot yet so beautiful at the same time, the way he let out sounds of pleasure like that.

“No,” you said.

“‘No’ what?”

“Renjun could not make me feel as good as you do. Nobody could.”

He realized that you were referring to the thing he’d said during your rough sex. Plus, now you couldn’t walk, so it worked out even better for him.

“Good,” Jeno said. It looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, he just got up and grabbed his clothes. He asked if you needed anything before moving into the bathroom to change.

You had wanted to lie there with him for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s presence and warmth. Was that something that only couples did? You weren’t sure, but you and him had crossed the “friends” and “lovers” line multiple times. You, as well got dressed, grateful that Jeno had placed your clothes on the foot of the bed.

When Jeno emerged from the bathroom, you beckoned for him to come over to the bed, patting the space next to you for him to sit. He was more hesitant that usual, but he did as you had requested. He looked to you, waiting for you to speak. Your eyes locked, and your heart ached. Jeno looked so beautiful. He always did. But you couldn’t have him, not in every way you wanted him.

Finally, you remembered to speak. “Why did you get so jealous? We’re not toge--”

You were suddenly cut off, his lips pressing against yours firmly, harshly, desperately. His hands flew up to cup your face, and he kissed you with so much love and intensity that you wanted to cry, almost. It was messy and unpracticed, but everything he had was poured into the kiss. You didn’t push him away, even when you finally registered what had happened. This was what you wanted, and it was even more wonderful than you’d imagined.

He broke away with a wrench. Jeno had a horror-stricken expression written across his face, his swollen lips agape in disbelief. “Holy...I’m so sorry. I just...I felt like kissing you?”

“Why did you? Not opposing, just wondering.”

“I don’t know. I mean...we’re just friends.”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” Your voice rang out through the room. This was how you felt, splayed out for everyone. “I’m sorry,” you said, “but I fell for you. I love you. I know this now means that we need to end things, and I understand why.”

“Did you seriously think that I didn’t love you back? Of course I do. I failed the number-one friends-with-benefits rule, but I couldn’t help it. It’s you. It’s always you.” Jeno’s voice was kind and sincere, and you kissed him in that second. You didn’t want to sort through anything anymore, but the prolonged feeling of his mouth against yours was something he’d wanted.

“You know, I went on a date with him because I wanted to get over you. I didn’t think you’d love me back.”

“Well, I do. Oh my gosh, was the famous y/n wrong about something?”

You answered with a smile. “Yes, and for once, I’m so happy to be wrong.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 1) Preparations

The MC doesn’t play a major role here, because there’s not much role to play. But she has a lot to say and lots of THOUGHTS.

The book is funny and I’ve kept the humor of the original novel. I also like that the MC here has a genuine sense of humor that makes her likeable and relatable to the rest of the boys.

ENJOY

There are several luxurious private rooms on the third floor of the Takamagahara for private party guests, and the spending amount is, of course, much higher than the card seats on the first floor. A guest can't go to the third floor without throwing a few million yen a night. 

The music inside the room where Chu Zihang and Caesar were hosting was deafening. You knock loudly to be heard.

"Little Sister, is that you? Don't come in!" Lu Mingfei yelled from inside. He sounds breathless, panting. In fact, when you press your ear to the door, all you hear is his heavy breathing and grunting from physical exertion. Your heart beats faster and your cheeks flush as your imagination runs wild with what must be happening. You back away from the door. You've been up to your ears in man-meat for hours so it wasn't a stretch to conjure images of Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei embracing passionately. Poor Nono. Surely Caesar wouldn't be unfaithful to her, right? You bring your fist to your lips and your heart squeezes in sympathy. 

The door swings open and Caesar appears. He's stripped down to his underwear. Your eyes snap to the gentle curve of Caesar’s crotch, which, in your alcohol-addled mind, seemed to bulge out to enormous proportions!

 He grabs your arm and drags you inside, slamming the door behind you.

Women were lying side by side on the floor, their dresses in disarray. Lu Mingfei and Chu Zihang are breaking a sweat to drag all the bodies around. 

“What do you need me to do?” You stammer and glance away. Were you going to end up on the floor too?

“Just wait until we’re finished. How was your time downstairs? You seem a little tipsy. How much did you drink?” Caesar picked up a woman and settled her gently back on the couch.

“I’m not sure. I think someone kept refilling my cup.” You twine your fingers. You can't turn around and look at him in his skivvies. Nono would probably laugh at you and the rest of the girls in the Student Union might resort to mob violence!

Lu Mingfei hissed. “What? That’s awful! Someone should do something about that! Those brutes didn’t do anything to you, did they?”

You shake your head. The room tilts and you try to hide it and the fact that youre suddenly breathless. “No, nothing like that. They were just… um… Are those women drugged?” You change the subject as the memories of the physical proximity of Diamond's and Chance's lips to yours, Calypso’s unopened rose and Armani’s lustful glare spring back to mind and combine with Caesar's sudden full frontal to create a sexual kaleidoscope you couldn’t handle.

"Strong sleeping pills plus strong alcohol. They have to sleep at least until tomorrow morning." Caesar shook a small pill bottle.

“Isn’t that a little dangerous? Sounds like a great way to make them sleep forever!” You recalled heroin and vodka was strictly forbidden because combined someone could easily commit suicide.

“I made sure it was alright.” Chu Zihang said, straightening a girl’s skirt. "We have about eight hours between now and tomorrow morning, enough time to get to and from Genji Heavy Industries. We ordered enough champagne before we came in so that no waiter would come in to check on us during that time. And these women were so drunk before they arrived, they won't remember what happened tonight." 

 He straightened his back and moved to the next. “By the way, did you give out any Star-flower tickets? I would have watched but, as you can see, I had to work.”

“No… no tickets.”

“Little Sister’s purity is as strong as Fort Knox! I’m so happy!” Lu Mingfei sighed with relief. “Don't worry, we’ll be out of here before anything happens!”

“That’s a good strategy in any case. You don’t want to show your favor to anyone in the first episode…” Chu Zihang gave a sage nod and moved to the next lady.

Lu Mingfei bristled. “What kind of lewd advice are you giving, Senior Brother?”

“So what’s the plan for the Genji Building?” You ask. You calm down and feel tired and tense, but seeing them working so hard despite having one of the busiest nights at Takamagahara was inspiring. The couches looked soft and inviting but you wouldn’t look weak in front of them so you continue to stand and try to look energetic.

"Uncover the skeletons in Hydra’s closet. And while we’re there, blow shit up." Caesar lit a cigar, the firelight illuminating the colored makeup on his face. 

"There are 15 pounds of C4 explosives in the equipment box, is that enough?" Chu Zihang took out a packet of Play-Doh-like stuff from the box. 

You recognize the packets. They’re dark green and can be arbitrarily pinched into any shape. They are easy to carry and easy to use. As the world's worst terrorists, according to Hydra, C4 plastic explosives would fit your needs. 

"Hey, hey, hey, hey! What are you doing with explosives out? We are turning into the kind of people on the wanted list step by step!" Lu Mingfei exclaimed. 

"We are wanted by the police department for smuggling nuclear fuel, terrorist attacks and raping young girls. As long as we don't do that last thing, we're not on the wanted list yet." Caesar fastened the leather sheath of the Dictator on the outside of his thigh, the Desert Eagle in the holsters on both ribs, and the eight magazines filled with Frigga bullets on the side of his waist, "It won’t be that bad. Chu and I are just going to blow up Kaguya's storage core. Kaguya is the first line of defense for the Hydra Clan. We blow it up and Hydra will go blind. Norma can take advantage of the opportunity to regain control of the network within Japan." 

“Caesar?” You ask.

“Yes, hun?”

“Am I also wanted for raping girls?” You give a dry smile.

He shoots you a genuine grin and snorts.

"Do not rush to change clothes, we have to leave some evidence." Chu Zihang said. 

"Almost forgot." Caesar took off his weapons and re-dressed in the slim purple suit, "Good thing I didn't take off my makeup." 

Chu Zihang fished out a cell phone from a guest's bag and handed it to you. “Here, take our picture.”

“Got it.” You say.

Caesar sat down on the sofa, dragged a woman to his side and pressed her to his body. He stuffed a microphone in her hand, and took a microphone himself, as if he was singing. 

Then Chu Zihang sat in the middle of the guests wearing a conical hat singing birthday songs, and Lu Mingfei pretended to accompany guests drinking and playing craps. Chu Zihang and Caesar pantomimed topless arm wrestling.

For each photo, Chu Zihang and Caesar adjust the phone time, so that the guests will wake up and, after checking their phones, they’ll think they spent an unforgettable night with the beautiful boys! But, unfortunately, they can't remember any details because they drank too much and can only imagine. Looking at the phones, you’re filled with a sad sort of regret that the boys actually didn’t have fun like this.

Lu Mingfei is full of panic, "If these photos leak out our reputation is finished! But we didn't do anything at all!" 

"MC, help me check the fuses on this C4.”

You scurry over without hesitation. Caesar leans in close to you. “You know about this too, huh? First shooting, now explosives…?” He says with a grin.

“I can hotwire a car… or I used to be able to. Not sure if I can do it with the newer models. I can’t fly a plane though.” You look up at him. “I’ll be the cutest little terrorist right?”

“Are you hearing anything I’m saying?!” Mingfei whines. 

“Are you sad because you didn’t do anything, but you now have a bad reputation?" Caesar looks bored. "Then do you want me and Chu Zihang to go out and wait for you for a while, so you can earn your bad rep?" 

"Bullshit! From now on I'm going to fight alongside you guys every step of the way! You guys aren’t going to leave me to take the blame alone!"

Caesar hands you a bundle of clothing. “Here. Put these on and get ready to go.” 

You take them and quickly duck behind the couches, pulling your dress over your head and slipping out of your heels. You unfold a skintight black bodysuit that fits you near perfectly and a trench coat with the splendid Ukiyo-E on the lining, made to look like they are from the Japanese Executive Department.

“Here. Don’t use them all at once.” Caesar draped a belt with a pistol holster and pouches of ammunition over the couch. Your heart warms at the side of this deadly weaponry more than the rose of Calypso. You were finally being trusted with a gun. 

When you step back around, you're fully equipped. Your tired haze is gone and your mind is only on the mission again.

Chu Zihang put his sword on his back, slipped into a black trench coat and screwed a black baseball cap on his head. Caesar is also in a black trench coat and was covering his face in dark makeup to conceal his fair skin.

"Isn’t it a little too risky? We can barely speak Japanese. How are we going to impersonate the Executive Board? People just have to ask us something complicated and we'll be exposed!" Lu Mingfei said. 

“I know it’s hard but you could try keeping your mouth shut…” You grumble, screwing on the belt. Just putting on these dangerous weapons brought you away from the Takamagahara summer of love to the cold winter of Siberia.

"MC, be nice…” Caesar chided. 

“Of course we can't break in. Genji Heavy Industries is a heavily fortified building, as tight as the Japanese Self Defense Force headquarters. Caesar and I spent a few days researching. It is a general office building from the first floor to the twentieth floor, and above the twentieth floor is the office area used by the Hydra. Access is by access card, and there are security guards patrolling. Those security guards are all armed. Even wearing the clothes of the Executive Board, an unfamiliar face may be questioned. Not to mention, that without the help of Norma, I cannot make access cards." Chu Zihang spread out a hand-drawn map, "The only possibility is to sneak in from the sewers and enter the so-called 'inner district'. There is no access control system in the inner district." 

You remembered that they had taken the elevator down below ground when you visited the Genji Heavy Industries and you saw the huge sewer system in Tokyo. The submarine dock of the Iwarui Institute was located in a giant twelve-meter diameter pipe. 

“Shouldn't the inner district have a tighter security network than outside?" Lu Mingfei looked completely unsure. 

You’re not confident either. Looking at the map, with only one way in and one way out, you get the sense that the moment something goes wrong, you’re going to be trapped inside with the enemy. The pipe was deep and led to the ocean. Given the volcanic activity down there, if you had an opportunity to use your soul skill you might be able to open an alternate tunnel like a lava tube to escape or even block this pipe with lava on the way out. The problem is your Soul Skill is not instantaneous.

"No one knows what the security system in the inner zone is, but at least we can avoid the people coming and going by going through the inner zone passage." The map Chu Zihang drew by hand was a map of the sewer system in Shinjuku district. His finger moved along the spider web of sewer pipes, "There's a sewer right below Takamagahara. We'll follow it east, bypass under the Shinjuku subway station, and shortly after entering the main channel, we'll see Genji Heavy Industries. Total length is two kilometers." 

"It’s like we’re just going to wing it right? But come on, This isn’t some My Little Pony Ride. Genji Heavy Industries is like a rushing river, we'll be up a creek if we make one misstep." 

"How can we know if we don't try? If we get caught, we’ll kill our way out." Caesar said gently.

"Hey! Of course you two Robocops can easily kill out! Have you considered that there are still civilized and weak students in the team?”

“Mingfei,” You say softly. He looks over at you, genuinely frightened. "You think I'm weak? Who has the biggest body count for this mission?"

“Little Sister, how can you smile in such a situation. Have you lost your mind? You of all people should be on my side…”

“Don’t you remember what I did in the streets of Chizuru?”

Mingfei frowned, recalling how you killed over and over. “But it’s not right for you to be doing things like that.” 

Chu Zihang confirms your assumption. “Her Soul Skill is the first one that I’ve witnessed that is truly S-Grade.” Chu Zihang rolled up the map. “Her control of it is impressive. Her ability to misshape the earth will help us find a way out by creating a new tunnel underground if necessary, and we have scouted several promising escape routes. Not only that, Royal Fire could take down the Internet Cafe’s wooden structure, but it wouldn’t be able to shift the Genji Heavy Industries building. But her ability is likely to do it. Right, MC?”

You nod gravely.

“If it comes to that, we can threaten the entire building. They were extra proud of that building and probably wouldn't want to lose it in a tragic earthquake..” Caesar smirks.

“I still don’t like it.” 

"Then you'd better stay and take care of the girls. Watching over a dozen unclothed and sleeping women alone in a room late at night is a job for a frail scholar, right?" Caesar shrugged.

"Am I such an unkind and unrighteous person? Can I watch you two go into the dragon's den and wait here by myself? Don't answer that. Just give me a gun!" Lu Mingfei was once again bold and firm, though he gave an owlish glance at the women.

"Very well! We in the Student Council never back down from a fight!" Caesar drew out a heavy Beretta 92FS and threw it to Lu Mingfei, "I”ve been waiting to give this to you. Thirteen-round magazine, the first nine rounds are Frigga anesthesia ammunition. The back four rounds are specially designed to deal with dragons. Mercury core, blunt armor-piercing ammunition. Don't use that kind of bullets against humans or hybrids. Although mercury is not that deadly to humans, it’s troublesome after contamination, and the armor-breaking warheads will leave penetrating wounds on ordinary bodies.”

"Will there be any dragons in the Genji Heavy Industry?" Lu Mingfei thrust his gun into his back waist, "I say just load them all up with Frigga tranquilizer rounds." 

“MC was the last witness to Lenin's last voyage when a dragon embryo was sunk in a Japanese trench. They tried to kill her once before to hide what happened that day. The Japanese Hydra  leader speaks with the same Russian Accent as the MC and then turns on the Academy as soon as he thinks we’re dead at the bottom of the sea? And then tries their hardest to capture us in Chizuru? And now tries to pin us down in Japan…”

Caesar looks down at you. “MC… you were invited on this mission for a reason. I intend to find out why. I think they’re after you… more than they are after us.”

[chisinpink]

The Only One: A Mastermind!Nagito AU Story - PROLOGUE

Hello lovelies, I’ve posted a *lot* about my Mastermind!Nagito AU on tiktok (I’m @chisben there as well if you wanna check it out), and I rly wanna share it here so here’s the prologue! Special thanks to @servanthaji for helping out with the planning of this whole story in general!

(Content warning for mentions of bombs and bombings, swearing and crying.)

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JUNKO: Yep, that’s the day that it happened. The day everything started getting… pretty scary, if you ask me! I’m just glad you were outta town for that, and baby was home sick. That’s, like, the only reason she’s here today, too!

HAJIME: Wait, wait, slow down! What are you even talking about…?

JUNKO: Uhh, I’m getting to that? Besides, don’t you know that guy too? Nagito Komaeda?

HAJIME: Not really… I mean, I knew of him, but I was in the reserve course. I didn’t really talk to him or anything until I went to school that Monday, and… there was nobody there except him.

JUNKO: Oh, yea? Did he tell you anything?

HAJIME: Not really. After I got shot at and ran in the school, I asked him what the hell was going on, but it was like I wasn’t there either. He just changed the subject to hope over and over again, like I asked a totally different question, and eventually I just walked away. I still don’t know what he was doing there.

JUNKO: Then maybe he doesn’t want you to know, y’know? You’re so lucky you have me, then~!

(She smirks playfully. Hajime stares at her blankly and her face drops. She stares at a map with a pen in hand.)

JUNKO: Come ooon, I’m coping! This is pretty stressful for everyone, y’know, I use humor to forget about all this stupid shit.

HAJIME: Whatever… just… tell me what’s going on.

JUNKO: Well, what happened that day… that was the start of The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History… in my opinion. And that’s saying a lot, because this world is filled with despair! And, like, his whole class helped him do what he did to the country! No idea why that is, but we can all fill you in on the rest, I guess. Preeeety sure we were all there in some way, ‘cept my baby.

(She gestures to the entirety of Class 78 of Hopes Peak Academy, standing and sitting in the basement of the school, as well as Mikan Tsumiki, who has a timid smile on her face as Junko looks back at her. Hajimes face drops.) 

HAJIME: Wh… what?? That can’t be it, that can’t be what happened…! The whole class?? The whole country?!

JUNKO: Eeeyup! They evacuated the school by putting a bomb under their teachers desk, and apparently all around the school, and I have NO idea how that lady didn’t croak! Anyways, everyone had to leave, and… that’s basically all I know. They just repeated that ooover and ooover on the news, it made me sick!!

(She threw her pen at a tiny radio propped up on a few cardboard boxes.)

HAJIME: Wh… this doesn’t… but… but, I...

(Kyoko steps forward and faces Hajime.)

KYOKO: I have some more information on what happened that day. After we were trapped here in the basement, all we had was the radio to inform us of the true nature of what happened. This is what I wrote down from those broadcasts.

(She hands Hajime a folder that contains three sheets of paper, all three of them hand-written notes. He begins reading.)

KYOKO: The class of 77-B was, most likely, all apparently under some sort of drug-induced psychosis. Most witnesses reported that they were acting strangely or out of character before they planted the bombs, and their eyes were hazy and… 

HAJIME: ”swirled”, “mixed”, “terrifying”, “comforting”, “light and dark” ...none of these make any sense.

KYOKO: My thoughts exactly. This entire event is bizarre and without any logical reasoning behind it… if you’d only heard about it on the news. But I think Makoto and I know more than any news outlets.

HAJIME: How?

(She looks over her shoulder to Makoto, signaling him to stand up.)

MAKOTO: Well, about a month ago me and Kyoko were going to one of the computer rooms to print something, but it was kind of out of the way, so we didn’t expect him to be there. N-Nagito, I mean. We saw him talking to Chihiro, and, uhm… I didn’t hear that part.

(He looks up to Chihiro. They stand meekly and fold their arms.)

CHIHIRO: H-he had been asking me to collaborate with him on a personal project, but… I didn’t have any spare time, and I didn’t even know him that well! So I finally just told him no, and he left me alone for a day or two… but t-then…

(Tears form at the corners of their eyes.)

CHIHIRO: H-he told me that… he was gonna… destroy the sc-sc-school if I didn’t-!

(They cover their face, and Makoto reaches out to rub their shoulder.)

MAKOTO: It’s not your fault, Chihiro. It’s nobody's fault but his. B-but anyway, after we heard about that, we decided that we had to keep an eye on him, but… basically the next day is when the bombs went off.

HAJIME: Why didn’t you just… tell a teacher what he told Chihiro?

MAKOTO: In hindsight… yeah, that would’ve been the safest thing we could’ve done. But Kyoko thought that we couldn’t keep an eye on him if he was expelled for that, a-and he could have been doing anything at home, so we fo-

KYOKO: Makoto, please, don’t. I was a coward, and I didn’t trust anybody else to investigate the matter. This whole situation could have been de-escalated dramatically if I had told school faculty.

(Kiyotaka stands from his spot next to Mondo.)

TAKA: You DIDN’T inform a teacher, or the Headmaster?! Miss Kirigiri, the school faculty always knows what is best for us!!

MONDO: Yeaaaah, is that why they all jumped ship and fucked off to who-knows-where so we could fight like dogs in the basement?

AOI: Hey, they did what they could, okay?? They had to protect themselves like everyone else! We’re not any better by hiding in the basement.

MONDO: Where the fuck ELSE were we supposed to go?? Candy land?!

YASUHIRO: Hey hey hey, Chihiro was right to lead us here the day the bombs went off! But I hear ya, maybe we coulda moved out of Japan together or somethin’ instead of hiding in Japan!

TOKO: I-I see why you’ve had to retake this year as m-much as you did now, you dumbass! He could b-be expanding anywhere now!!

BYAKUYA: As much as I hate to agree with her, I do. Nowhere is truly safe, and for all we may know, we’re being actively searched for. It’s only a matter of time before we have to relocate.

SAYAKA: I-I can’t stay here another second!! 

CELESTIA: Oh, so do you two suggest that we run out into the streets and expose ourselves to the predators? Play Nagitos game of cat and mouse?

LEON: Hell NO, I’m not playing that freaks game! But if he’s got his little possie out there looking every which way for us, then we gotta at least try and delay it!

SAKURA: On the other hand, we don’t know what they might want from us, if anything, or how bad the situation has escalated since we decided to hide.

HIFUMI: We don’t even KNOW what’s out there w-waiting for us anymore?! There could be giant mutant spiders wanting to turn us into baby food by now! I’m staying right HERE.

YASUHIRO: ...okay, I’m officially lost. Are we moving or staying?

SAYAKA: Moving!!

BYAKUYA: If you all intend on surviving, then you’ll all relocate. If you intend on being brutally murdered, then by all means, feel free to stay for a bit longer.

LEON: What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?? 

MAKOTO: H-hey, everybody calm down!!

SAKURA: We cannot make a decision until we know more about the outside world. AOI: But isn’t it because of what we don’t know that we have to go out there by now?

SAYAKA: Maybe some of us could go and some of us could stay?

TOKO: W-what if that reveals the hiding spot f-f-for everybody else??

MIKAN: (wiping away tears and hiccupping) N-nooo!!

YASUHIRO: Then we all have to come to the same decision, then.

CELESTIA: Yes, good luck reaching a peaceful consensus during the middle of an apocalypse!

BYAKUYA: I never said that it had to be a peaceful decision. If needed, you will all follow me kicking and screaming so I don’t perish thanks to your idiocy.

MONDO: I’ll knock some idiocy into ya if you keep runnin’ your mouth like that!

TAKA: Remember to take deep stomach breaths, bro! I think we can all solve this by utilizing a popular vote!

HIFUMI: But wouldn’t whoever’s the most popular win anyway??

HAJIME: SHUT UP!!! EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP!!!

(Everyone stops talking and stares at Hajime, who’s trembling and has his face in his hands.)

JUNKO: Daaaaaaamn, rookie’s kinda bold to be screaming at us like that, huh?

MAKOTO: Junko… you’re not helping. He’s obviously overwhelmed and you’re just teasing him.

JUNKO: C’mon, I’m nowhere near him! Hahah!

(Makoto sighs, sitting down next to Hajime on the floor. The rest of the students talk amongst themselves.)

MAKOTO: ...I’m sorry. I know you didn’t ask to be here, but… for what it’s worth, I’m glad that you’re still alive somehow.

HAJIME: … 

MAKOTO: You know… when Mukuro found you unconscious in that class, we all thought you were one of Nagitos’ friends. You seemed too peaceful in your sleep to have been running from anybody, or hiding from anything.

HAJIME: ...then why did you help me?

KYOKO: We thought we could get some information about the outside world. But apparently, you're just as lost as the rest of us.

MAKOTO: A-and because we didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Even if you were one of his people, we didn’t want you to just be out there. I’m glad that you weren’t, though… it feels nice to meet someone new again.

(Hajime lifts his face from his hands, palms and face covered in tears. He looks at Makoto with a faint smile.)

HAJIME: Yeah… feels nice.

☘️ TO BE CONTINUED☘️

[jcmorrigan]

What movie or tv show scared you the most?

OH HEEHEEHEEEEEE MY TIME HAS COME

I think this was probably the sign I was meant to be a horror fan, because I'm gonna talk about two movies here and neither one is a standard horror film. Now, I avoided horror films like the plague, but I now realize that's because of my aversion to jumpscares and gore, which have very little to do with actual scary stuff. I feared actual horror imagery as a small child, but basically once I read Coraline it all just turned around because that book gave me nightmares but I actually WANTED those nightmares and kept going back to the book. So what are the movies I just COULD NOT contend with?

First up, I have found that a lot of people have said this one, but really and truly, fuck Chicken Run.

I was...maybe ten when I watched it. Signed up for a goofy claymation adventure. What did I get? First of all, a whole lot of bleak color palette that warned me that this was not going to be a happy story. We are then shown the stakes right away: our entire main cast lives in a dystopian prison and if they do not find a way to escape, they will die. One DOES die. This is where a lot of people say they noped out right away, but actually, the execution of the dinner chicken in the first scene was tame for me compared to what would come next.

The pie machine. It's assembled, it's talked about, and eventually our two leads fall into it in a way that is designed to be fatal. Look, there are a ton of horror tropes in this scene alone. I haven't seen it SINCE THE ONE AIRING and I can still vividly tell you a lot of this. And if I walked into a horror film and asked for this, I'd come out super satisfied, but I was not expecting horror from this. First of all, I remember vividly the shot where you're looking from Ginger's POV falling down the shaft and the divider comes up to shunt her into the "meat" line. It's incredibly claustrophobic and you just get this almost jumpscare reminder that the character through whose eyes you see is regarded as nothing more than meat to be consumed. There is then an array of blades designed for close calls, and dough that essentially glues the lead characters down to a conveyor belt so they have to helplessly watch the death machines that are coming. Sticky stuff that roots you to one spot; that's another thing that just REALLY unnerves me and I love it if I'm reading CreepyPasta but I was not reading CreepyPasta; I was watching a children's film. The leads escape certain death by jamming the gravy system, causing the machine to overload on pressure, and here I feel like I should've been relieved that they escaped but instead I was the most unsettled of all when the pressure meter started climbing. I don't know if this film *gave* me a phobia of industrial accidents or if it just awakened what was already in my OCD little brain, but suffice to say that after this movie, I was hyper-aware of my own fear of things like hissing steam, rising pressure meters, and being in a room where large metal things were clanking. (I'm since over it; I've been exposed to it in enough things.)

Now, I was no quitter. I should have just noped out. But I didn't. I continued to traumatize myself. The next part of the film until the climax I don't remember so well - it wasn't as traumatizing - EXCEPT for the part where Ginger finds and rebuilds Rocky's circus poster. And now, as an adult, I can see how that was kinda supposed to be funny, like, "The goddamn chicken padded his résumé and the way they found this out was a circus poster." But little me was invested in these chickens, I wanted them to be happy, and what I saw was basically their death notice being signed with that scrap of paper with a cannon on it. I FELT that in my bones.

STILL NOT HAVING THE GOOD SENSE TO JUST EJECT THE TAPE ALREADY, I proceeded to the climax, in which what happens to Tweedy might be one of the most fucking awful things I've seen ever? Pinned upside-down in a superheated, confined space with rising liquid from below as the pressure meter starts climbing again. And her husband arrives just in time to see her like this but not in time to actually stop the explosion. Thank God it didn't actually kill her because even though I was already traumatized, that would've absolutely made it worse.

Thing is, ever since this movie scared the absolute shit out of me - and was probably the cause of the weird stomachaches I had for A WEEK after - I've kinda had this thing about reclaiming the scary parts and stomping on them while laughing maniacally. I feel like every time I've done a crossover project, there's been a temptation to write in an arc where the mains go up against THE PIE MACHINE and fucking win. And also there's whump with tons of comfort in my version to mitigate it all. I haven't done any such thing for TBTC...YET. But I know what I must do. I know who must destroy the machine and the Tweedys along with it. Buckle your seatbelts.

My final word before I move on is that as I ascend into adulthood, I think that for the most part, a rewatch of this film wouldn't traumatize me so badly. It'd still be gross and creepy in a way I think shouldn't be sent to children without warning, but I could deal with the imagery, maybe enjoy using it as whump fuel even more, maybe my horror side would really get into the peril this time. But the one thing I've realized is that this premise is fucked EVEN MORE if you're a grown-up, because as a child, you're sympathizing with the chickens. You want them to get free of this death camp environment. But as an adult, you start to realize that all Tweedy wanted to do was be a chicken farmer who sold pie, and her supposedly nonsentient animals ganged up on her in a display of unheard-of intellect among farm stock. This would then lead to her undergoing at least one near-death fate. Think about being a farmer in our world and the animals you keep GANG UP ON YOU LIKE PEOPLE because you're killing them for food. No thank you, no THANK you.

But surely this was a one-of-a-kind phenomenon. Surely, after this...after so many other people agreed with me; "Fuck Chicken Run"...no animation studio would ever pull shit like this again.

I had hoped that was the case until Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs.

This is one I don't actually see lambasted as often. Maybe because the Chicken Run trauma crew grew thicker skins before this movie. I only sort of did. Maybe because no one ever actually invested in this film, having already predicted how much it would be garbage from the dumb humor in the trailers. Oh, but not me. I was a fool. Also my family picked it for a movie night so my fate was sealed anyway.

The original book is actually pretty frightening on its own. Food falls from the sky in such great numbers that it starts to destroy the world. Okay, that's terrifying. But kind of in the alluring way. I would keep coming back to the one page about the giant pancake on the school because the way it was drawn unsettled me so, with something huge and immovable blocking off the way to a building that usually has hundreds of innocent children inside. The film built on this and made it a thousand times worse.

Let's start with the goddamn Spray-On Shoe. Our main character is a mad scientist (but the good kind, apparently) whose list of bumbling failed experiments dates back to when he was a child and invented a spray you could put on your feet to coat them in shoes. He then gets laughed at because he didn't engineer a way to get the shoes off, and runs home in humiliation. Guys, the teasing/bullying factor is...not the most worrying thing about this story. There's a throwaway line about how Flint wears THE SAME SHOES into adulthood because to that day they simply cannot be removed. This seems like an incredibly urgent medical problem? Having your feet encased in the same rubber for years? The same rubber as when you're a kid? I just found myself thinking "What if my shoes never came off one day" and that terrifies me, okay? It's stupid and it's silly and it scares me. Even more than that, though, is the canonization of a polymer in this universe that can be sprayed on sticky and will literally never break no matter what you do to it, because that goes back to the pie machine dough principle. Being glued to a surface permanently is inherently terrifying and we'll go over this later because this is not the last fuckin time the glue shoes get brought up.

Flint invents a food-spewing machine. It ends up in the sky. He rides his popularity as it rains larger and larger food down upon the town and also the world. Most of this film up until the climax is unsettling but not AWFUL. Where it starts to go to shit is when Flint realizes his machine is too dangerous and shuts it off, only for the town's local greedy politician to switch it back on into an apocalyptic mode. So can we start with "Local town finds out its elected official is willing to sabotage their well-being in order to capitalize on the fame of a disaster-causing object?". Like, the whole film would've been solved so much sooner if there hadn't been a saboteur in the works - not a fun campy villain, mind you, but a saboteur who exists to drive the plot to the scary place. But I guess we need that narrative tension to justify having a film in the first place, so fine, I'll ride it out.

The main crew saddles up to fly out to the machine, which is now encased in a FLESH LABYRINTH of food, and...I'm just gonna rapid-fire the shit that happens at this part:

-The food turns sentient in order to defend itself. The cute animal sidekick brutally dismembers an army of gummy bears that is fully sentient and rips them apart to devour them.

-We enter the flesh labyrinth and it's exactly as much a horror RPG setting as you think it is.

-Now sentient cooked chickens besiege the party. The comic relief character is consumed by one, only to kill it from the inside and decide to WEAR ITS SKIN in what is seen as his defining character arc's conclusion. Wearing the skin of a dead monster allows him to forge his new identity.

-One of our party has to go back because of a tight passage lined with her deadly allergen, causing her to undergo anaphylaxis after an accidental mild nick. In the flesh labyrinth.

-The entire horrific journey is instantly INVALIDATED when it turns out that instead of the kill code for the machine, all Flint has is a file of a cat video. Which he finds out as the town is about to be obliterated off the face of the earth.

-So he solves it by jamming the works with the spray-on shoe and DID I NOT JUST GO OVER HOW HORRIFIC INDUSTRIAL EXPLOSIONS ARE IN KIDS' MOVIES? DID I NOT? ARE WE REALLY DOING THIS AGAIN? Anyway it's canonical proof that NOTHING can break the shoe glue and I should be happy for the town and happy that there's no more flesh labyrinth of living meat but instead I'm just terrified because of the door we have opened. We have imparted the existence of an indestructible sticky polymer upon the world.

-It's later seen used in a credits sequence to repair damaged houses. Which, first of all, given its flexible nature, is fuckin stupid. It won't serve as an actual wall. Second, that got me thinking about construction accidents involving the fuckin shoe glue. If that stuff gets dripped on a person's face -

-So then cue me sitting awake in bed later thinking wide-eyed about Cloudy with a Chance of Fucking Meatballs and realizing that this compound that is essentially a chemical weapon in the making is now in the hands of the mayor who deliberately caused an apocalyptic event over the town because he wanted the food rain. And THAT'S not going to lead to pretty circumstances.

I think you'll see that a lot of my fears with these two movies is "THINK OF THE IMPLICATIONS!" and I think that just shows how my mind works and why I'm drawn to fanfic so much. I'm all about diving into a universe, exploring its corners, analyzing it to death.

And with the industrial horror stuff, I kinda wanna bring it around to two other films that actually really subverted my expectations and made it fun. 102 Dalmatians was a fave of mine through middle school, but I remember when the climax took us to a big ol' factory and I got plumb nervous. After the usual blades and ovens of horror, the fact that it concludes with Cruella basically wearing a cake and a lengthy montage of the dogs kicking toppings onto her is just one of the most wholesome imageries. She survived the thing and now you get to watch her be decorated Lisa Frank style by her victims who are more interested in humiliation than murder, and I love that.

But maybe more prevalent is that I'm well aware that if certain filmography or plot points had been handled in different ways, The Boxtrolls might've actually frightened the ever-loving fuck out of me what with all the industrial stuff and medical horror, but I just...felt like that film was holding my hand the whole way through going "It's okay." The industrial stuff was framed in a way that was just campy enough and yet also taken seriously. Putting a really charismatic villain - ACTUAL VILLAIN, NOT CHICKEN FARMER OR CORRUPT POLITICIAN SABOTEUR - at the wheel was just such a mitigating factor that it gelled the whole thing together and I ended up LOVING what was done with giant machines and garbage crushers and explosions. And as for the medical body horror, I really appreciate how it was so baked in that Snatcher did that to himself - that everyone, EVERYONE warned him "Do not do this, you will probably die, I'm serious, bad fucking idea" up to the point of Eggs trying to plead him during an anaphylaxis attack, one last time, DO NOT continue down this path, we can find a way to heal you psychologically and get you some self-fulfillment. And Snatcher fully chooses hubris over the many, many opportunities offered him to be able to step down onto a safer path and that removes the fear and pulls it more into a tragedy for the villain. Not at all the same thing as "Sam the reporter is trying to save the world and doing her best until a fixture of the landscape accidentally sends her into anaphylaxis."

(Oh, and by the way, can I just - when I do see CWACOM brought up these days, it's always in the context of "This is the one movie where the guy tells the girl it's okay to look nerdy!". Well, no, not the way I remember it. The way I remember it, Sam basically tells Flint "I used to have really tacky style but have since changed it up of my own volition" and Flint is just like "NOOOOO YOU NEED TO WEAR GLASSES AND A SCRUNCHIE. I WANT A HOT NERD GIRL." This could've been pulled off right with some more introspection into female beauty standards, even in a tongue-in-cheek way, but right now it really looks like Sam just wanted to make herself more glam for a new image and Flint bullied her into regressing her style. Which I've also realized meant he bullied her into dressing more like she did as a teenager and normally I think that kind of shit is just "You're overthinking it" but since it's CWACOM and I spelled it out on paper like that, I'm just now realizing how that can be seen as pretty...icky.)

The one saving grace of CWACOM is that I was older by that time, and so it didn't affect me as hard as Chicken Run. But I still hold it dearly to my heart as one of the MOST DISTURBING movies I know, and by "dearly" I mean "fuck this movie, really and truly." I want to extend my thanks to 102D and Boxtrolls for giving me industrial-horror-based climaxes that were actually really comfortable, and again, probably what drove both of these was the fact that we had a campy diva villain in the lead for the potential scary stuff to surround and radiate off. Not a fuckin...ordinary chicken farmer who is just trying to make bank but is somehow passed as a Nazi allegory for trying to live her life as a farmer? I dunno, maybe if I rewatched that film I'd see she has a thirst for human blood too, and if I could fix fic Chicken Run my first order of business would be to give her a thirst for human blood instead of/in addition to chickens.

Anyway. Fuck both these films, EXCEPT for the fact that traumatizing scenarios can always be recast as whump material, and the next time I wanna do some crossover aftercare from a physically and psychologically damaging mission, I have a pie machine and a flesh labyrinth to exploit. REALLY HEAVY ON THAT AFTERCARE COMFORT THOUGH!

[foreverwayward]

I Know You Part 1

Dean x Unnamed Female x Sam (no Wincest)

Word Count: 3331

Warnings: downright smutty, fluff, oral, Winchester humor, language, mild dominance

Summary: After two years together, the three had grown more than comfortable with each other. But, it isn’t until an unexpected moment of intimacy that desires are finally spoken. Once the door to honesty is open, there’s no holding back. 

Sam and Dean walked into the motel room, deep laughter coming from them both. They were still buzzed from the whiskey they had consumed at the bar only a block over.

“I’m telling you, Sam,” Dean somewhat slurred. “The girl was into you. You totally could have hit that tonight.”

Sam chuckled. “Eh. Guess I wasn’t too interested.”

“Not interested?” Dean asked taken aback with an expression that matched. “Sam, she was gorgeous and all over you.”

“Just didn’t do it for me,” he shrugged.

Dean dropped his jacket off his shoulders before tossing it over the bed with a shake of his head. “Ya know, sometimes I don’t get you, man.”

“Well, what about you? You telling me you couldn’t have left with that blonde?”

“Maybe. Guess it’s like you said—just didn’t do it for me.” He turned back to his brother with a laugh of disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with us?”

Sam laid his own coat over a nearby chair. His hands were resting on top of it as he leaned his weight into it. “I wish I knew.”

Looking around the room, Dean asked “hey…where is she? Didn’t she say she’d be here when we got back?”

“Uh—yeah. I don’t know.”

The sound of water splashing caught their attention as they looked towards the bathroom door. It was cracked open, soft light gleaming through the slit. They shared a curious look with raised brows before walking over to investigate.

As Sam gently pushed at the door, it slowly opened to a dark, candlelit bathroom. She was in the bathtub, her hair up in a messy bun, heat rising from the water and off her skin. Her head was rested back, earbuds in her ears with her eyes shut in relaxation.

The brothers froze at the sight with wide eyes. They both knew they should leave, but it was as if their feet were planted in place, their bodies stiff with building energy.

Her wet skin glistened in the dancing candlelight. She was utter perfection.

Both Sam and Dean had imagined her that way a million times before, but the real thing was like a glimpse into heaven.

As her eyes fluttered open, she caught the two large men practically gaping at her. She immediately went to cover her almost exposed chest as the Winchesters snapped out of their trance.

“Uh, guys…?”

“Oh—“ Dean muttered, embarrassed.

“S—sorry…” Sam barely could utter.

The two clumsily bumped into each other as they tried to get out as fast as they could and Dean quickly shut the door behind them. They stood there in silence both looking like they had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Shit…” Sam mumbled.

Dean ran a palm down his face. “Yeah. That, uh—I did not see that coming.”

Letting out an anxious chuckle, Sam nodded. “No kidding.”

Immediately realizing the situation in his jeans, Dean cleared his throat and tried to discreetly cover himself.

“Are you—“ Sam started to ask but stopped feeling uncomfortable.

Trying to not seem bothered by the situation, Dean snarked back, “oh, what? And you’re not?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So…do we just act like this didn’t happen?”

Sam let out a breathy laugh. “I don’t think I can.”

“Glad it’s not just me,” Dean conceded.

“I mean—god, I’ve imagined her a thousand times but…” he sighed. “Nothing compared to the real thing.”

“I know what you mean.” Dean’s neck snapped in his brother’s direction. “Wait. Are you into her?”

“…are you?”

“Dude—from day one. The first hunt we went on together, the first time she made me laugh, the first time I saw her bend down in front of me…” his voice trailed off as he bit his lip at the thought.

Sam’s knuckles practically went white as he tried to control himself and the urges that threatened to bubble over. “So, what do we do? Because, that woman in there is the woman of my dreams, Dean.”

“Pfft,” Dean replied sarcastically. “No way, dude. If anyone’s getting her…it’s me. We’re perfect for each other.”

“Oh, really?”

“Uh—yeah,” he mocked. “We like the same music, we have the same sense of humor, we both love cars…I could name a million things that we have in common.”

“Interesting. So could I,” Sam replied in a cocky tone.

Dean scrunched his face with a bitchy expression. “Like what?”

“We both love to read, she’s a runner like me, we watch the same shows, we make each other laugh…”

Rolling his eyes, Dean let out an annoyed breath. “Fine.” He put out his hand with his other posed as a fist hovering over it.

“Wait,” Sam chuckled. “You can’t be serious. You wanna rock-paper-scissors this situation?”

“It’s how we solve any other issue. Let’s go.”

“No way.”

“Afraid you’ll lose?”

“What? No. I always beat you anyways.”

Dean dropped his hands. “Well, I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas.”

A soft and muffled voice pierced through the bathroom door. “You know I can hear you guys, right?”

Again, Sam and Dean’s eyes went wide.

“Fuck…” Dean mouthed before turning to the door and opening it just enough for her to hear him. “Uh—we’re sorry for just walking in on you. I swear, total accident.”

“Definitely an accident,” Sam reiterated.

She scoffed with a small laugh before biting her lip in thought. “…come in.”

“…are—are you sure?”

“Yes. Just get in here.”

The brothers shared a shocked look before they mouthed and muttered a brief argument between them about who would go in first with them both nervous to. Dean finally gave in and took his time taking steps in. Sam was directly in tow, his eyes immediately resting on her. The small motel bathroom felt even smaller with the two large Winchesters taking up most of the space.

They swallowed hard as their eyes couldn’t help but trace over her wet body. She shifted in the tub causing her breasts to emerge from the water, her perky nipples making the tension in their pants only more painful.

“You guys were staring at me, weren’t you?”

“Well, I, uh—“ Dean stammered. “We—“

Realizing he needed to take over the conversation, Sam added, “we just got back and didn’t hear anything but—but there were lights on in here so…”

“So, you came to investigate,” she concluded.

Dean nodded enthusiastically, wondering if he was beginning to sweat. “Yep. Came…to…investigate…”

“Guys…we’ve been on the road together for how long now? Two years?”

“Two years…” Dean agreed as he studied the beads of water on her shoulders, neck, and chest. “Two awesome years.”

She giggled. “Alright, so I guess that means we can speak plainly, right?”

Sam cleared his throat nervously. “Absolutely.”

“Look, I know you both probably better than I’ve ever known anyone, and you know me just the same. I know neither of you are naturally this nervous with women. In fact,” taking her time, she stood up. The water trickled down her wet skin as her naked body was finally fully exposed. “I know that neither of you are timid at all.”

The two stared at her in awe. Every curve of her body was perfection, every small scar, rogue freckle—she was a masterpiece.

Stepping out of the tub, her wet feet met the cold linoleum. She took slow, seductive steps towards the brothers. Both Sam and Dean’s breaths hitched in their chests.

“How well do you know us exactly?” Dean could barely choke out.

She peered up into Sam’s eyes from under her eyelashes. “Well, for one—Sam, I know you’re a pleaser. You get off making a woman feel good, dominating her just enough to make her come undone underneath you. You like it soft and intense until it builds and builds until finally…” her voice went softer. “…you let yourself go and show her no mercy until she screams your name.”

The gulp that Sam tried to swallow was almost audible and she snickered to herself, happily.

As she sidestepped, she looked up at Dean. “And Dean. You know, it took me a while to figure you out. But I did…” Her sly smile made him shiver.

“And…what did you figure out exactly?” he asked.

Her finger traced over his chest, feeling the soft fabric covering him. “You like to take charge. I think you don’t just like to make a woman lose her mind, you like to watch. You, Dean…like to play.”

He smirked as his tongue shot out over his lips. Suddenly, Dean was feeling more confident, more sure of himself. She really did know him and it drove him wild. “Hey, Sammy…” he started, his eyes never moving from her. “She get it right?”

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled. “She’s got us pinned.”

“Oh…” Dean playfully laughed. “We won’t be the ones getting pinned. So, waddya say, Sam? Should we show her how well we know her?”

Sam couldn’t help the small rumble that came from his chest. “You better fuckin’ believe it.”

“You wanna see what you’ve been missing?” Dean asked her as his large hand went to her jawline, his fingers rubbing against her throat. “Because, I guarantee you, sweetheart…we’ve still got a few surprises left in us.”

Moving behind her, Sam gently removed the tie that held up her hair. He watched it fall, shaking it out with his fingers before they ran down her bare shoulders. Her skin was still wet and calling to his lips.

Sam dipped down, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. The wet droplets from her bath touched his lips and his tongue couldn’t help but creep out. He continued to kiss her until he brushed her hair to the opposite side, exposing her neck.

Dean took his time studying her. His hands landed on the sides of her ribcage, slowly moving down to her waist and hips as if he was sculpting her himself.

He looked down at her and caught her gaze as she began to breathe heavily. Dean took her chin in his hand and leaned in to ghost his lips over hers. The sensation made her gasp softly and he took his time enjoying her reaction before giving in to the kiss. It started out soft, meaningful and filling the deep desire in them both that had been building for quite some time.

She fell into it, losing herself in Dean’s lips and tongue as Sam placed wet and hungry kisses over her tingling skin.

“Dean,” Sam mumbled, his lips vibrating and awakening her nerves. “Can we take her to the bedroom now?”

As Dean pulled away from their kiss, he licked his lips, still reveling in her taste. “Yeah, I think we should.”

Without another word, Sam effortlessly scooped her up into his arms. His face was focused and serious as he carried her, following his brother out of the bathroom.

Dean sat in the middle of the bed, his legs spread slightly open. He pat the space between them. “Right here, Sammy.”

Once at the side of the bed, Sam gently laid her down where Dean had wanted her. Her knees bent at the base of the bed with her feet dangling. His eyes still were still obsessing over every inch of her.

She tilted her head back, ever so slightly, to look up at Dean who was hovering above her. His smile was mischievous, as if he was already sure of his plans.

Dean brushed her hair away from her face on both sides. “Wanna make sure I get a good look at ya.”

The growing erection in his jeans throbbed against her head and created an ache in her belly. Knowing that he was enjoying her so deeply made her only want him more.

Sam sat at the edge of the bed, his hands running down her smooth legs. He reached up to finally kiss her, humming into her mouth. Two years of lusting for her and finally paid off. It was perfect—she was perfect.

He took his time pulling away from her before eyeing his brother. “So, Dean…she said I was a pleaser. Should I show her how right she is?”

“Absolutely,” he answered.

The smirk that grew on Sam’s face made a shiver run up her spine. He slowly went to his knees and took his time spreading her legs as he planted kisses on her thighs. Sam smiled against her skin as she trembled.

Keeping eye contact with her, Sam hovered over her sex. She was already glistening wet and it made him lick his lips. He took hot breaths over her, teasing her and leaving her breathless until he finally placed his lips against her. As his tongue delved between her soaking lips, her head fell back with a gasp of pleasure.

While Sam began to tease her clit, Dean ran his fingers through her hair and across her face and lips. “How’s she taste, Sam?”

Sam moaned lightly. “Even better than I imagined.” He chuckled to himself as her peered up at her again. “I’m gonna make you mine.” He immediately began to devour her. She moaned in ecstasy as he ate her like a man starved. Sam was lapping her up, sucking on her clit, running teasing circles with his finger around her pussy.

“I think she likes it,” Dean added as he took his time cupping her breasts. He fondled them, seething through his teeth as he watched her wiggle at their touch. “Keep going, Sam.” Looking down at her, very plainly, he told her, “don’t cum yet. Let Sam have his fun.”

His words were like electricity through her body, only driving her further into insanity. Her back arched and she began to mindlessly grind into Sam’s face. He was so skilled with his tongue and his warm mouth was like heaven.

As the intensity grew and the knot in her stomach began to build, she started to fidget while her legs grew tense. She moaned loudly and Dean put a firm hand on her sternum, holding her in place.

“That’s it. Keep letting it build.”

“I--“ she panted. “Oh, god…Sam…”

Sam stopped to look up at his brother with a wet smile. “Fuck, I love when she says my name like that.” He slowly pushed in a single digit, feeling how tense and tight she was. Sam couldn’t have been more pleased as she squeezed around him. “I’m gonna ruin you,” he told her.

When her hands reached down to rifle in Sam’s hair, Dean grabbed them and held them at her sides. “Don’t distract him.”

It only took a few more seconds before her jaw dropped, profanities dripping from her lips as she climbed an unspeakable high. “Sam, I—I’m almost there.”

“Hold it,” he told her firmly while releasing her clit only momentarily.

“I can’t…” she whimpered. “Please…”

Holding onto her hands with a tighter grasp, Dean reiterated, “he said to hold it.”

She squealed softly and bit her lip as she began to shake, her body ready to explode. “Sam!!” With a deep laugh to himself, Sam stopped, leaving her on the edge. “No…” she whined.

Sam stood to his feet, watching her fight against Dean’s hold as he undressed. His was quick to remove his flannel and his chest was heaving with anticipation. He kicked off his boots and made short work of getting his jeans off. As Sam dropped his boxers, his perfect erection sprang free. It made her moan at the sight and her legs collapsed to the sides, opening herself for him.

“Dean…” Sam started. “Cover her mouth.”

With a bite of his lip, Dean placed his large hand over her mouth. She exhaled sharply through her nose and her chest rose and fell rapidly as her heart raced. She watched as Sam took her legs in his hands and lined himself up with her entrance.

“Look at me,” Sam commanded. And just as she did, he pushed his cock inside of her. He was patient, letting her stretch around him as her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “Fuck…” he growled as his head fell back. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

She cried out in pleasure, the sounds muffled by Dean’s hold.

“You ready?”

With an eager nod, she consented and Sam smiled.

Taking her wrists in one of his hands and keeping his other over her mouth, Dean noticed to Sam. “Do it.”

Sam began to thrust into her, deep until he bottomed out. The sounds coming from her were a mix of cries and moans, whimpers of her body desperate for more.

“Hold on.”

With his teeth gritted, Sam began to fuck her into oblivion. Her once loud moans turned to silent shakes as she began to come undone. She could feel the edge of her first teased orgasm bringing her closer and closer, spasms filling her legs, toes, and hands.

Nearing his own crash, Sam motioned to Dean and his brother removed his hand from her mouth just as it dropped open.

“Fuck…” she whimpered.

Dean leaned down to whisper gruffly in her ear. “Sammy worked hard on you, sweetheart. Now, show him how grateful you are and cum.”

At his words, she lost her mind. Her body was no longer her own and she could have sworn she was going to pass out. She began to contract around him as her orgasm spilled out of her and dripped down his balls.

“Say my name,” Sam demanded as she twisted and contorted underneath him.

With a gasp, she yelled out, “S—Sam!”

That was all he needed to send him over the edge as he spilled deep into her. She could feel him twitching inside of her, his cum filling her and dragging out her own orgasm. Sam groaned at his release.

As the two steadied their breathing, Sam slowly pulled out. The sopping wet space between her legs evidence of Sam’s skilled movements.

Dean let go of his hold to bring her wrists to his lips, kissing where he had been holding her down as Sam went into the bathroom. “You did so good.”

She was still heaving her breaths and was completely spent.

Sam came back with a warm, wet cloth and began to clean her as gently as she could. Though with her nerves so on edge, she seethed and writhed at the slightest touch.

He dropped it to the floor and crashed down on the bed beside her as Dean lovingly touched her. Sam beamed. “You…are…incredible.” Again, he kissed her. “More than worth the wait.”

“I—I’m sorry, Dean…” she uttered out of exhaustion. “I’m so…so tired.”

Dean chuckled, still playing with her soft locks. “That’s okay, sweetheart. I had a feeling. Don’t worry. I can be patient.” He kissed her, holding her chin in place. “But, tomorrow, you’re mine.” Dean took his time getting up, careful not to disturb her. He went to the bathroom and began to snuff out the candles and tend to the mess.

Once they were alone, Sam gently turned her face towards him. He ran a sweet hand across her cheeks, soaking her in again. “God...you’re so beautiful.”

She was enamored with him, with both of them. Whether it was her feelings for the brothers that had been so long denied or the incredible sex she had just had, she wasn’t sure. “You’re amazing…”

“Well, if I was amazing it’s only because I had an amazing partner.” The two smiled happily at each other. “You know, you were right—what you said earlier.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“We should say what we mean. And after tonight, I don’t think we have anything to hide from each other,” he laughed. As his face went more serious, he brushed away her hair. “I love you. I have for I don’t even know how long.”

Leaning in to kiss him, she hummed against his lips. “I love you too.”

“Alright,” Dean said as he emerged from the bathroom. “I’m starved. Who’s up for pizza?”

------

[omgsquee2001]

Imagine~

Discontinued until Further Notice

Imagine taking a road trip with Richard Armitage, Dean O'Gorman and Aidan Turner going to Japan, Greece and Spain

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a new up and coming [your nationality] actress given the role of Azalea Baggins by Peter Jackson for The Hobbit films. Being a new actress, you were extremely nervous and shy being around new people. However, after shooting The Hobbit; An Unexpected Journey, you became quite close with many of the actors. You became closest to Aidan Turner, who played Kili, Dean O’Gorman, who played Fili, and Richard Armitage, who played Thorin. Aidan, who had become one of your best friends, oddly enough played your love interest in The Hobbit films. 

You were running the scene where the Company was in front of the Great Goblin. 

"Alright, and action!" Peter shouted. Aidan, as Kili, pushed you behind him as the Goblins rushed you all up to the Goblin King. 

"Kili, what are you doing?" Azalea asked. Fili stepped closer to you, keeping you hidden. 

"Keep your head down and stay quiet. They can't know that you are a female." Fili whispered. The Great Goblin, played by Barry Humphries, leaned forward, stepping on Goblins as he walked forward. Though Barry was in a motion sensor suite, you knew that when the editing happened and the movie came out, Barry would be replaced by a giant ugly Goblin. 

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" The Great Goblin asked. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?!" He shouted. 

"Dwarfs your Malevolence." A smaller Goblin said. 

"Dwarfs?" The Great Goblin roared. 

"We found 'em on the front porch." The Goblin said. 

"Well don't just stand there, search them! Every crack, every crevice!" The Great Goblin ordered. He saw Azalea amidst the group. "Ooh, a woman I see. Bring her forward." He ordered. You did your best to bring forth the fear and worry that J.R.R. Tolkien had described in his books. You made your eyes go wide and looked to Aidan, who desperately tried to fight through the actors who were playing the Goblins. One of the actors pushed you forward, forcing you onto your knees. You glared up at the Great Goblin. 

"Cut!" Peter shouted. Barry chuckled and helped you up. 

"Ooh, that was one scary looking glare you gave me, [Y/N]." Barry said, laughing. The rest of the actors laughed along with him. You chuckled and shrugged your shoulders. 

"Oh you know, I just have to put on my 'Do not touch my cookies or else I'll kill you' look." You said, causing everyone to laugh again. 

A little later, you were in you trailer, after just getting out of costume and getting your Hobbit ears and feet taken off. You loved the design, but honestly you could barley hear a thing out of those ears. You were sitting on your couch eating a bowl of ramen. You glanced up at the posters you had up of your favorite places you wanted to visit. Japan, Greece, Spain, Paris and the Bahamas. It was your dream to visit each and every one of those places. A knock resounded on your trailer door. Quickly setting your fork down in your bowl, you quickly made your way to the door and opened it. There stood Aidan, Dean and Richard. You smiled and leaned against the opening. 

"Hello gentlemen, how can I help you this fine afternoon?" You asked. They chuckled at your humor. 

"We wanted to speak to you, love. Can we come in?" Richard asked. You smiled and nodded. 

"Of course, come in, come in." You said. You moved out of the way for the three men to come into your trailer, Dean closing the door after himself. You lead them to your "living room". The living room was complete with a couch, a tv and a table in front of the couch. You looked at the three. "Can I get you guys anything to eat or drink?" You asked. They shook their heads. 

"Nah, we're alright, thanks though." Aidan said. You nodded and took your original spot on the couch where you were eating your ramen. Aidan glanced up at the many posters you had around your trailer. "So, [Y/N]," Aidan said, catching your attention. "Out of all the posters you have up on your wall, which three places would you like to visit?" He asked. You looked up at your posters as you chewed and swallowed the noodles in your mouth. 

"Hmm, out of all those posters, I would like to visit Japan, Greece and Spain the most," you looked down with a gentle smile on your face. "Japan has such amazing history behind it, reading the books Rick Riorden wrote is what got me into Greece in the first place and the beauty of Spain just seems so amazing to me." You sighed. "I know that once my career in acting gets bigger, I'll eventually get to visit those places, so I'm not in a big rush to visit them yet," you looked up at the posters with longing. "Still, it would be nice not to have to wait for it." You said. The three smiled at your admiration for the three countries. 

"Well," Dean said, his phone out. You looked at him. "How would you feel if you got to visit those countries sooner rather than later?" He asked. He held up his phone and showed it to you. You saw a website and three plane tickets booked for a flight to Japan tomorrow morning at 6:00 am. Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with your hands, then dropped them in confusion. 

"Wait, there's three tickets." You said, looking at the three in confusion. 

"We're taking you to those three places, starting with Japan." Richard said. Your eyes widened and you shook your head, looking at the three of them. 

"No," you said. They nodded. "No! This has got to be some big elaborate prank." You said. Aidan chuckled. 

"It's not, love. We're really taking you to your three favorite places." He said. Tears gathered in your eyes and you hugged all three of them. 

"Thank you all so much." You said, pulling away. "When are we leaving?" You asked. 

"The flight leaves tomorrow at 6:00 am, which means we will have to leave at 4:00 am to get to the airport." Dean said. You nodded. 

"How long are we going to stay in all three places?" You asked. 

"A month. A month in each country." Richard said. Your mouth dropped open and your eyes bugged out. 

"A month?! We can't stay that long. What about filming?" You asked. You knew Peter was on a tight schedule to get this movie released on time. 

"Peter said it wouldn't be a problem." Aidan said. "Plus we want some alone time with our favorite girl." Aidan said, winking at you. Richard gently yet not so gently elbowed Aidan in the side. Aidan had almost exposed part of their plan. What you didn't know, was that all three of these men had fallen in love with you. They each wanted to spend time with you so, ultimately, you could decide which person you loved the most. You smiled at the three. 

"Aw, thanks you guys." You said. "But what about packing? I don't have enough clothes to last me a month in different countries." You said. Dean chuckled. 

"It's already taken care of. You received a package from your family, did you not?" He asked. You nodded. When you had opened a package from your family three days ago, you were confused when you found a lot of your favorite clothes, including your One Piece Zoro hoodie crop top. Now, it all made sense to you. 

"We want to make sure this is alright with you." Richard said. You nodded. 

"Of course it's alright with me. Spending a month in three of my favorite countries with three of my favorite people, how could I resist?" You asked smiling. They chuckled and got up. 

"Well, we'll let you go so you can pack and continue on with whatever you were doing." Dean said. Aidan pointed at you. 

"Remember, be ready to go by 4:00 am tomorrow morning." He said. You smiled and saluted. 

"Yes, my Lords!" You shouted. Aidan chuckled as they all left. Once they left and closed your trailer door, you immediately started packing, ready for the next morning.

//I hope you all liked this. There will be multiple parts to this imagine. In the end, there will be different endings to choose from. Aidan’s Ending, Richard’s Ending and Dean’s Ending. Oh, and don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get some steamy moments with each actor😉//

[neighborhoodmoonchild]

I Feel For You (Werewolf!Jungkook x Empath!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language, violence, mentions of blood, injuries

Word Count: 6K

Your friend's party was the first time you’d seen him since you were kids. His hair had grown significantly since then, falling across his face in soft wisps he has to continuously blow out of his eyes. His eyes. They were the same as they were before, dark as night but would glisten in any lighting, like the moon across the lake. 

You hadn’t spoken to him in a decade, convinced he must’ve been a figment of your imagination, but the reality of it was that you were just from two different worlds that would never mesh.

You’d only said two words to him that night, when you were both just barely out of booster seats, and you’d wandered too far back in the woods behind your house without your mother noticing. 

Back then he was just a little brown haired boy with brown eyes that seemed to shift as he bared his teeth. You’d been the little girl with pigtails wiping her wet eyes with her dirty hands as she tried to push herself up off the ground. 

“Please don’t.” 

And he’d thought you were afraid of him hurting you. He was shaking in the trap, blood seeping down his leg, teeth bared in defense, and he thought this little girl was scared this monster would eat her. He’d never know you were trying to help him and yourself. 

You thought maybe you’d go over, see if he recognized you, see if he remembered you. But as the DJ cranked the music louder, a group of guys started a fistfight, and a searing pain shot through your jaw, blood pooling in your mouth despite you standing perfectly still by yourself in the corner, you ducked out before it could escalate and made your way home, spitting blood and hoping nobody saw.

—

“Can’t I just skip? I think I might be coming down with something, you know?” Jungkook pleads, grabbing his mother’s hand to rest against his forehead. It was warm, but nothing out of the ordinary, especially for a wolf, and he knew she knows that.

She humored him anyways, flipping her hand over a few times with a puzzled look on her face. After a second, she stood up and began walking towards the bathroom.

“You know what, let me get the thermometer.” Her face broke into a sly grin, knowing fully well that her son knew the only thermometer they had was not for the mouth.

Suddenly, he’s flying past her, tugging on his backpack and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, “You know what, I’m suddenly feeling a lot better! I’ll see you when I get home.” He takes the stairs three at a time and bolts into the kitchen, ignoring his brothers stuffing their faces and taking their sweet time, nothing to worry about being late to, besides ‘work’ with their father. 

Jungkook is the last of 7 boys born to his mother and father. His eldest brothers, Jin, Yoongi, and Namjoon, were all home-schooled by their mother before Jungkook was even thought of. Once they were done, they took their places on the Pack Council with their father.

Hobi, Jimin, and Tae had gone to the “pack school” which was basically homeschooling with all the kids in the pack by a few select pack members. By the time Jungkook came into the picture, not only did the pack accept the idea of sending their children to human school to avoid suspicion, his mother was so worn out she just didn’t have the energy to educate Kook on her own. 

In her defense, Jungkook was a lot more hyper and wild then his siblings, and being the last meant her sanity was at the edge after the first 6. 

Jungkook didn’t mind, though, he was fascinated by human nature, everything that made their society so different from his, and he made it his mission to learn and experience as much as he could about both. At least, it started out that way. 

As Jungkook grew, so did his wolf. It was harder for him to control his animalistic tendencies, and it was worse when he had to keep it all hidden to avoid exposing his pack’s secret and causing an all-out witch hunt. 

Instead, he chose to push all of his wolf qualities, along with some of his human ones, deep down and lay low. It was easier to protect himself and his family that way. Don’t bring attention, don’t make friends, just go to class and come home. 

And after a while, it got a hell of a lot easier. People stopped coming up to him, trying to talk to him, hell, even teachers didn’t call on him anymore. Instead, all he’d get was the occasional wary stare and a few whispers, but that was about it. 

It hurt him to have people think terrible things about him, but it’s not like he could tell them the truth. So, for now, he’d let people believe whatever they wanted about him, from mute kid who cut out his own tongue to a deranged psychopath who writes stories about how he’d murder his classmates (yes, those are real rumors he’s heard float through the hallways. Humans and their imaginations). 

As long as he was here and his secret was safe, it didn’t matter what others thought of him. 

Jungkook made it through the first for periods just he always had. Aside from getting a surprised look from his Algebra teacher for acing his last test, it was like every other day.

Then it lunch rolled around.

He made his way to his usual table out in the quad, far from everyone else and sat alone. He liked being able to enjoy his meal in peace, watching everyone around him.

Today, his peace gets interrupted not even ten minutes in.

You watched Jungkook sit down at the same table he always has. Seeing him in the daylight instead of the strobes at the party made him easier to study. He wore the same black sweatshirt and pants he does every day and he looks the same as he did Saturday night. 

“Why are you staring at him, got a crush or something?” Your friend nudges you, sending the whole table into a fit of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs.’ 

You just roll your eyes, keeping your attention focused on the boy across the quad. You’d never told your friends about what happened years ago, considering it wasn’t any of their business anyways. They hadn’t even acknowledged his existence until they saw him at the party that night, wondering why he’d bothered to show up. 

You didn’t know he went to school with you, let alone that your friends knew him, well, knew of him. It was that night, when you’d asked them who he was, that they’d relayed horrid gossip about him.

Knowing just how insane high school ppl gossip can be, you took every new piece of information about him with a grain of salt. It was that night you learned his name, Jungkook. 

Unfortunately, that was the only useful information they had on him, so you figured if you wanted answers, you’d have to go to the source. 

You’d have to talk to him.

Without even thinking, you rise from your spot at the table, stepping over the seat and heading towards him. You could hear the whispered screams of your friends, obviously confused and concerned with your rash actions, but you just blocked them out. 

Your path to his table felt like a million miles, as if you were on trial, with all eyes on you. You’d somewhat made a name for yourself here, part of the ‘popular’ clique on campus, but you didn’t see yourself that way. It was just your nature to be friendly with others. You could sympathize easily, share and understand, most importantly, you listened, and people liked that.  

You rose the social ladder without even realizing it, and soon you were the talk of the school. Everyone wanted to be friends with you, but the socially elite students had already claimed you as theirs and you were too polite to turn them down. 

So, as you made your way to Jungkook, you could feel the judgment each student passed on you with each step. It was like slowly being suffocated, each state and new set of hands around your neck. 

Sometimes high school is just too much.

You didn’t care though; you’d happily dig your own social grave if it meant finally getting answers from the boy in the woods. 

Jungkook can sense you staring at him from across the way, but ignores it. He used to the stares so he figures it’s harmless. It’s when the hairs on the back of his neck stand as his wolf sense you approaching him that catches his attention and drags him from his protest. 

Jungkook doesn’t look up to see who’s there up until you’re standing across the table from him.

When he does, something deep down open side of him recognizes those eyes, your eyes. 

“Mind if I sit?” You ask sweetly, giving him a smile. He just stares at you dumbfounded, not sure what to say, so he just slowly nods his head once.

You set your bag down next to you and rest your arms on the surface of the table. Jungkook ignores his lunch, frozen staring at you. This had never happened before, not even his first year. People didn’t just approach others and sit at tables they didn’t belong. There was a system, a hierarchy, and everyone had their place.

This was not yours. 

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you stick your hand out across the table, expecting him to take it, but he just stares at it.

“This is usually the part where you shake my hand,” you try not to smirk but it’s hard when he looks like he’s never seen a hand before. 

He hesitantly takes it in his, “Jungkook.” 

He’s hoping this will suffice whatever curiosity you’re harboring towards him and you’ll leave him in peace. Jungkook thinks this is his punishment for going to that stupid party on Saturday when his father told him he couldn’t go. He wasn’t there for long, but he just wanted to say he went to at least one high school party in his life. 

Now he thinks people might have gotten the wrong idea and that it was okay to hang out with him. He’d just have to let you down as easily as possible.

“No offense, but don’t you have friends to sit with?,” he gestures behind you to the table you’d left, your friends awkwardly watching, laughing and whispering. You didn’t bother to look back, just kept your focus ahead, ignoring what you knew was gossip behind you. You loved your friends, of course, but they have awful habits.

“I do, I just figured you’d like some company.” 

He doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs, his wolf annoyed that someone was pitying him. 

You see it but don’t take it too seriously, sensing he was just uncomfortable with your unwarranted presence. 

“I’m fine, you can go now.” You don’t want to leave yet, though, hoping to break through this icy exterior and find out what’s underneath. You can feel it in the deepest depths of your soul that he’s hiding something, holding himself back, and you know it has to do with that night 10 years ago. 

“If it’s alright with you, I’d actually like to stay,” you gesture back behind you subtly, “besides, they can be a bit much sometimes.” You hoped to ease the tension and find some common ground with him, but his wall is strong.

“I’d actually prefer to eat alone,” one part of him is screaming at himself for how cold he’s being. This was a chance to make a connection, maybe make a friend, but the other half is rationalizing that if he lets you in, you’ll ruin everything he’s spent so long protecting.

His mood affects you, the agitation cutting through your usually bubbly aura. You couldn’t help how easily influenced you were by the feelings and emotions of others. You were born to feel what others felt; their happiness, love, frustration, and pain. 

“Why do you insist on cutting yourself off from everyone?” It’s an intrusive question, one a stranger should not ask and did not have the right to know. You couldn’t take it back once it flew from your mouth, though. Speaking before thinking was also an affliction you’d been graced with, one you had spent years trying to correct to no avail. 

His wolf wants to snap, confronting his features into a deep set scowl, his eyes dark. 

“Why do you pretend to be friends with people you don’t like?” It wasn’t fair of him to attack you, but your insistence on prying into his life was wearing his patience thin.

The human part of him regrets the blow when he sees your features, clearly taken aback.

“I’m not pretending, I do like them, just not all the time, no one can like everyone all the time.” You wanted to snap back at him but you kept your calm. It was fair in a way to ask such a question after yours.

Jungkook wolf isn’t satisfied yet, though so he sinks a lower blow, “And why do you always run away when they start shit?”

The guys in your friend group were notorious for picking fights, hyped up on testosterone and privilege. You didn’t think anyone had noticed your disappearing act during such events, but clearly you weren’t as sneaky as you’d thought. You didn’t have a choice though, considering how would you explain when similar wounds appeared on your body as they happened?

You became defensive on instinct, feeling like prey stalked by a predator. You were just trying to be civil and his whole demeanor became a shield to protect himself and retaliate against you. 

“I guess we both have secrets then, huh.” You get up, walking past your table, your friends following you with their eyes, shooting back to Jungkook once you were out of sight. 

At first he didn’t understand why you reacted so harshly to his questions, figuring they weren’t serious. Turns out you may be just as cut off as Jungkook, you’re just better at faking it. 

—

You’d ignored your friends incessant questioning over the lunch fiasco, opting to pour yourself into your studies and after school activities. Once you finished up the meeting for student government, you headed out to the field to grab some supplies for the drama club from the field house.

The coach of the boys lacrosse team had given you the okay to borrow equipment for the club’s upcoming performance, so as the director, you figured it was your job to get everything together.

Walking out, the sun dipping lower in the sky as the boys team practiced on the pitch, you notice a familiar figure looming near the end of the bleachers. You take a second to investigate and see Jungkook watching the team, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

His eyes follow every shot and pass, following the footwork of the athletes, studying each movement. He looked like he wanted to join in. 

Despite getting off on the wrong foot, you could feel the longing dripping from him, the intense desire to be out on that field. He was holding himself back again, and your inner self was dying to know why.

Going against every petty bone in your body, you silently approach him, arms folded across your chest, “You stare any longer without blinking and your eyes will shrivel up.” He jumps a bit, swiftly collecting himself, a minuscule wave of guilt flushing through him when he realizes it’s you.

Jungkook looks back out on the field, fighting his urge to run out and join the team on the field. 

“What are you doing here?,” he asks, slightly interested in the answer but more so interested in what was happening before him.

You follow his line of sight, wondering why he didn’t just ask the coach to try out if he wanted to play so bad. 

“Grabbing some things for the drama club, what about you? Stalking the boys lacrosse team?” His head shoots towards you, eyes glowering.

“No, I just like lacrosse, that’s all.”

Jungkook’s defensive expression turns sullen, once again watching as the ball is thrown back and forth.

“So why don’t you play? I’m sure you’d probably be good at it with your,” you realize where you’re headed with this and can’t help the embarrassment flushing your cheeks, “physical build.” 

Jungkook’s first instinct is to be flush as well, but he covers it up with a sly smirk, “My physical build, huh?” 

Rolling your eyes you reach out to push his shoulder, returning your hand back to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, “Whatever, you know what I mean.”

Watching you get so flustered feeds the grin on his face. It was kind of cute, though he wouldn’t tell you he thought so. 

“I can’t.”

Your face distorts into confusion, wondering what could possibly keep him from doing something as normal as participating in a sport.

You want to ask him why, but after the last ‘why’ question you’d asked him had gone so sourly, you figured there must be a reason, albeit probably not a good one, and that it wasn’t your business to judge.

instead, you take a step forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with him, well, as best you could considering he is much taller than you, and just watch the team practice. 

You can feel him stare at you when you move closer, but he turns back watching just as you are.

“Well, I think you should at least try,” you look up at him, finding him already looking back at you, “you might regret it if you don’t.” 

And with that bit of wisdom imparted, you get what you came here for, knowing that Jungkook follows your every move with his surprised gaze until you’re out of sight. 

Once you’re gone, Jungkook’s attention goes back to the field, seeing the team packing up for the night. He goes against the part of him telling him to go home, and jobs out to the field instead.

Approaching the coach, Jungkook prepares himself for the step he’s about to take, your words in the back of his mind; ‘If you don’t, you might regret it.’

—

The first time you see Jungkook on the field is during a late evening run to the field house after one of the members threw up all over the jerseys you’d borrowed. The coach was hesitant, but allowed you a few more after your promise to wash and return them yourself. 

The team had already packed up and headed to the locker room, but Jungkook stayed behind to get in at least another hour of practice. 

The coach had agreed to let him try-out that first evening, and after proving himself a valuable addition to the team, he was finding all the time he could to catch up, considering the team had already been in practice for a few weeks now. 

You didn’t mean to stare, fully prepared to march out, grab what you need, and head back in, but you watched as his arms lifted his jersey over his head, wiping the sweat dripping from his face. 

Officially bordering on crappy stalker tendencies, you shook yourself out of your trance and grabbed the jerseys from the shed. When you turn around to head back to the auditorium, Jungkook is jogging towards you. 

“Enjoy the show?,” he pries, smirk taking over his face. If you were paying more attention to his cocky attitude and less to his bare torso, you’d have quickly offered a witty comeback. 

“What-I was just getting some, stuff, for the drama club,” you stop yourself before you ramble on and humiliate yourself further. Jungkook likes to tease you, though, so he finds any way to push your buttons and take advantage of your innocent nature. 

“So that wasn’t you I just saw drooling when I took my shirt off?” You snap yourself out of it, scoffing, eyes rolling so hard you thought they’d get stuck for a second.

“Don’t flatter yourself Kook.”

He’s about to press you further when you feel a sharp pain shoot through your jaw, the faint taste of blood leaking onto your tongue. You wince, hand shooting up to hold your face, eyes darting frantically around your surroundings.

Jungkook could sense your change in demeanor immediately, noticing you wince, stepping forward, “Hey, are you okay?” 

His hand reaches out to you, and you are about to brush it off when you both are alerted to yelling towards the quad.

Jungkook is the first to rush towards the noise, you following in quick pursuit. The closer you get, the more painful your jaw gets, stiff and throbbing, a ringing pulsing in your ears. You almost have to stop and hold your head between your knees, but you need to see what’s going on. 

There in the quad, you see one of your friends beating the shit out of another guy. They are both wearing practice jerseys similar to Jungkook’s. You notice the blood dripping down the guys chin, a large welt on his cheek.

You’re about to say something when your friend swings swiftly, landing a particularly hard punch to the guys face, sending him to the ground. 

At the same time, your head whips to the side, the force sending you sideways, but you catch yourself. Your hand shoots up to hold your face, tears pricking at your eyes, fighting back a yelp as the pain fills every one of your senses. 

Before anyone can see you, you collect yourself as best you can and stagger towards the parking lot. You needed to get away from here, you needed to get in your car, and get home before someone sees.

You’re spitting mouthfuls of blood as you go, the tears streaming down your face, the red and purple colors slowly painting the affected area.

Once you make it to your car, you steady yourself and head home, the farther you get from the school, the clearer your head gets. 

Jungkook turns around after the last blow, coach coming out to break it up. He expects to find you standing there, asking, “Isn’t that one of your friends?,” but finds you gone. 

Without meaning too, his wolf senses kick in, searching for a sign of where you might have gone. He follows your scent to the parking lot and then notices the trail of bloody spit that ends at an empty space. 

He can tell from the scent that it’s yours, he just understand what could’ve happened between the field and the quad that could cause you to bleed like that and run off. 

Jungkook was not only curious, he was worried. 

—

You try to cover the bruises as best you could, but it just wasn’t working. You’d tried to convince your mom to let you stay home, but she wasn’t having it. Your secret was yours and yours alone, not even your parents knew, so you couldn’t argue with her.

Instead, you dragged yourself to school, trying your best to hide your wounds with makeup and a turtleneck. You’d just have to avoid everyone today and lay low. 

You’d gone through the first half of the day without any real problems. You’d met up with your friends in the library where they talked about the fight, and one made fun of your outfit choice, of course, ‘only teasing’ though. 

Avoiding people ended up being pretty easy, until you locked eyes with Jungkook down the hall, causing him to make a beeline straight for you. 

You tried to turn around and keep walking, pretending like you hadn’t seen him, but he was quicker than you, blocking your path.

“Why’d you disappear yesterday?” He wants to ask about the blood, but figures he should start off simple and then get to the bizarre. 

He looks over your face, trying not to seem suspicious, but you instantly reach your hand up to cover the side of your face that’s bruised.

Jungkook notices, zeroing in on the faint purple tint of your skin. He didn’t see anyone with you guys when you were in the quad during the fight, and he was sure he would’ve sensed if you’d been attacked right behind him. How the hell did you get a bruise like that?

As if to help him connect the dots, you both turn your attention to another figure at his locker down the hall. It’s the guy that was attacked, the guy whose bruises are an exact match to yours. 

Jungkook isn’t sure how exactly to piece this all together in his mind, but he does now realize that you had started acting funny once the fight had started, and disappeared right after the final blow. 

Was it possible for one person to feel another’s pain like that? Considering he’s a werewolf, it shouldn’t have been a total shock to him, he’s around unnatural things all the time. 

Still, he’d never encountered something quite like this. It was normal for a pack to share emotions and feelings, in their nature to sense each other on an emotional level.

You are definitely not a wolf though, and this is way more than that connection. 

Before he can question you about it, the bell rings and you rush to class, leaving him behind with more questions. 

Jungkook finally caught you at the end of the day, right before you could run off again. It was his first lacrosse game, and considering you were the reason he even tried out, he thought he’d invite you to come watch.

He also wanted to talk to you about what happened, and figured after the game would be as good a time as any. 

A small part also just wanted you to be there so he could show off and maybe, just maybe, impress you. You were the first girl, first person even, to befriend him despite his objections, and the more you helped him take his wall down, the more he started to like you. Jungkook might of even developed a bit of a crush on you. 

“You want me to come to your game?” You repeat back to him, and that signature smirk rears it’s annoying head again. 

“Yes, that’s what I said didn’t I?” Flustering you was his favorite part about your friendship. He never got tired of seeing your cheeks turn red and listening to you nervously ramble. They were some of the points on the ever-growing list of things he liked about you.

“I won’t have anyone to sit with,” you admit, realizing how distant your other friends had become since you’d started hanging out with Jungkook. Don’t get you wrong, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it would be awkward to be alone.

“That’s okay, you can sit with my brothers.” This was the first time Jungkook had really mentioned his brothers, other than the time he had admitted to you that he wasn’t an only child like you and that his family was big.

“Your brothers?”

Jungkook smiles, appreciating how enthusiastic you looked when he shared personal information. 

“Yeah, I have 6, and they all wanted to come watch my first game. You can sit with them if you want, I’ll let them know you’ll be there.”

Now, even though you were nervous, the chance to meet Jungkook’s mystery siblings was more enticing than sitting at home watching movies by yourself, so you promised him you’d come.

—

“What is she, your girlfriend or something?” Jin insinuates, mocking face making kissy noises to further antagonize his youngest brother. Jungkook’s face flushes beet red, flying at the eldest, tackling him.

“Jin, leave our little Romeo alone,” Taehyung joins in on the teasing, causing Jungkook to throw a pillow at his head after tackling Jin to the couch. 

Namjoon and Yoongi are watching their brothers play fight from the kitchen table, not wanting to incur Jungkook’s embarrassed rage onto themselves.

“Is she cute?” Jimin asks from the other couch, Jin and Taehyung nodding their heads in question, waiting for Jungkook to spill. 

“Yeah, I mean, I guess...” he rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat radiate off his skin. His brothers always found ways to pick on him, since he was the youngest, he was the best target.

“Ooo, well if she’s not your girlfriend maybe I’ll make her mine,” Hoseok yells as he enters the room, shoving Jungkook playfully. 

A low growl rumbles through the room, shutting everyone up. They all stare at Jungkook, his teeth slightly bared, and they fight their natural instinct to react. 

“He was just kidding Kookie,” Jimin says softly, patting Jungkook’s shoulder, calming him down.

“Sorry, didn’t realize how serious you were about her,” Hobi admits sheepishly, pulling out a chair next to Yoongi and plopping down.

“I’m not-,” he scoffs, “I mean, we’re friends, that’s all.”

They all stare at Kook, knowing their little brother all too well, seeing right through his aloof act. 

Jungkook pass over to Hoseok, head down in submission, “I’m sorry for snapping at you.” 

Hoseok just beams a wide smile, “It’s okay, it’s natural to feel protective over your mate.”

Jungkook’s eyes shoot wide open, “What-she’s not my- she’s not even a wolf, and how would you even know-“

Joon is up and patting the youngest’s back, “It doesn’t matter that she’s not a wolf. You’re exhibiting all the signs of having found your mate.”

Jungkook’s embarrassment grows more than he thought it could.

He wants to tuck himself away and hide forever. It had been obvious to everyone but him that you were his mate. The first girl he’d made friends with and it’s his mate. What are the odds?

“We’ll be on our best behavior, promise.” Taehyung holds his hand up, scouts honor. They all share a laugh and Jungkook gets ready for the game. 

—

When you show up at the field, Jungkook meets you at the sideline, pointing you in the direction of his brothers, who all watch you with anticipation.

“Good luck,” you whisper it in his ear to make sure he hears it over the loud roar of the crowd. You miss how his cheeks turn pink, but he just smiles and runs back over to the bench.

You make your way over to the group of boys all smiling at you and cheering for their brother. One of them, tall with brown hair and glasses, stands to help you over the bleachers to sit and shakes your hand.

“You must be the famous Y/N we’ve heard so much about,” Namjoon says and the. Introduces himself along with the others.

You can’t help but feel nervous, not only at the revelation that Jungkook talks about you to his family, but the fact that you’re surrounded by 6 guys you’ve never met before, each one beautiful in their own way. 

You could’ve guessed, considering how attractive Jungkook is, that his brothers would be as well.

The game starts, and you’re sandwiched in between Jimin and Yoongi, cheering alongside them for Jungkook. 

At halftime, your team is up down by one, and Jungkook has yet to be put on the field. 

While you’re growing impatient for him, his brothers seem to be perfectly fine with Jungkook riding bench. In fact, every time the coach looked like he was about to out Kook in, they all watched on almost nervously. 

You wondered why.

Jungkook meets you at the bleachers while the halftime clock runs, the team getting water and the coach going over plays.

“Why are your brothers not upset coach isn’t putting you in?” You ask, holding his water bottle for him as he tightens his shoe lace.

Jungkook knows that it’s because they’re afraid he’ll lose control and wolf out on the field, but he can’t tell you that.

“They’re just overprotective, afraid I’ll get hurt or something.”

You nod in understanding, even though you can sense that’s not it.

The game starts back up and before you know it, Jungkook is heading onto the field.

The boys are all watching in nervous anticipation, so you take the initiative to cheer Kook on for all of them. 

Jungkook sees the ball as it plops to the ground and suddenly he’s after it, scooping it up and running for his life. 

The crowd is cheering and as he approaches the goal, he can hear your voice above them all. He turns his head to look at you for just a fraction of a second, but it's enough for a member from the opposing team to tackle him violently to the ground.

Suddenly, everything is black.

—

You wake up in the emergency room, ice pack to your head and half of Jungkook’s brothers standing around you.

You try to sit up, catching Jimin’s attention, and he rushes over to help you slowly rise from the cot.

“Where are we?,” you slur, head pounding and vision blurry, 

“We’re in the emergency room, do you remember what happened?”

You stare at your legs, trying to think back to last thing you remember, “We were at the game, and Jungkook was about to score, but-“

And it’s all blank after that.

Hoseok approaches your other side, “He got tackled pretty hard. He passed out on the field,” the all look at you, “you passed out in the stands at the same moment.”

While your head is pounding and fuzzy, you understand what had happened and you know that they’re going to want answers.

Before they can get any out, though, they are ushered out and Jungkook comes in. He’s holding an ice pack to his head as well, smiling when he sees you.

“You trying to steal my thunder or something?” He asks sarcastically, cracking a smile out of you.

“I can explain,” you start, but you’re at a loss for words. 

Jungkook just walks over and plops down next to you on the cot.

“Is that why you ran off the night of the fight? Why your blood was in the parking lot and you had the same bruises as that kid?” 

He’d already pieced it together in his mind, and you’re tempted to make an excuse, but decide the truth needed to come out sooner or later.

You stare at the floor going over what you were going to say in your mind. You’d never told anyone this, and here you were, about to tell Jungkook, the weird kid from school and the kid from your past, your deepest secret.

“I remember you,” he adds, and you lift your gaze to look at him.

“That night in the woods, 10 years ago. You were the little girl that was scared of me.”

He looks sad and you can’t help the racing of your heart at the fact that he had remembered you after all these years. You were sure he’d forgotten or not realized it was you, considering he hadn’t brought it up, until now. 

“I wasn’t scared of you,” you whisper, and Jungkook looks surprised.

“I was crying for you, for myself. Your leg was caught in a trap. I could feel your pain, Kook.”

This whole time he’d thought he was this horrible monster that made a poor little girl cry; for 10 years he believed he was the big bad wolf. 

But he wasn’t.

“And that explains the blood, the bruise, and our matching concussions,” his lame attempt at a joke makes you laugh and he’s glad the two of you are alone.

“Yeah, sorry about ‘stealing your thunder,’” you giggle and he can hear his heart beating in his ears.

“Are you okay?,” he asks, looking over your head in search of any other injuries. You grab his hand and squeeze it tight.

“I’m okay.” 

—

You both are released from the E.R. and Jungkook invites you to family dinner at his house. 

As you stand on the front steps, you find yourself more nervous knowing you were meeting his entire family this time, but he folds your hand in his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

Dinner is filled with loud laughs and plenty of teasing. You and Jungkook not only have matching concussions but matching blushes as well.

His parents absolutely adore you, knowing the second you walked in that you were their son’s mate. 

After dinner, Jungkook walks you out to the back porch to get some fresh air as the others clear the table.

you both lean on the railing staring up at the stars, when Jungkook lowers his gaze back to you. He’s mesmerized by the way the stars glimmer in your eyes, and when you lock eyes with him, he holds his breath. 

Before you can say anything, he’s leaning down, lips pressing gently to yours. 

It’s sweet and soft, holding a passion neither of you had ever felt before.

When he pulls away, you both stare at each other in silence for a minute, before his mother calls you both in.

You're standing at the sink in their kitchen drying dishes as his mother hands them to you, when she turns to you.

“I used to tell the boys stories of the old world when they were little,” she smiles at you and you return it.

“There was one story, about these incredible healers with the kindest hearts,” and as she looks at you, she can sense the great power within you. 

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

Had to repost this because Tumblr deleted it somehow, but hopefully it’s back and everyone can see it, sorry💜

-Moonie🌙

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Dead Man Walking (9/10)

Summary: Prime Ministers don’t normally wake up in morgues after they’ve been murdered, but that’s exactly what Robert Sutherland has just done. Right in front of Lacey’s nose. With limited resources and not knowing who to trust, Sutherland and Lacey must work together to get to the bottom of the attempted assassination.

Based loosely on this dream I had.

Rated: The rating has now gone up to E!

Note: This is meant to be ‘darkly humorous and amusing mystery’ rather than ‘gripping political thriller’…

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [AO3]

Dead Man Walking

Nine

Lacey felt a sense of the forbidden as she and Sutherland made their way upstairs to her room. Despite Mrs de Ville making up a bed for her, she had not actually slept in it yet, and it felt deliciously wicked to be using a guest bed in someone else’s house just for sex - even if the house’s owner had been tacitly trying to get her together with this particular partner for the entire time they’d been there.

Maddie would probably be cheering them on if she knew what they were doing. Scratch that, Maddie probably knew exactly what they were doing and was cheering them on anyway, but they were still creeping about, the furtiveness adding to the idea that Lacey was doing something she shouldn’t. 

And after all, this was the Prime Minister she was sneaking off for a quickie with. It wasn’t exactly like any of her other boyfriends that she’d had to sneak past her dad or her roommates at university. She was with a man who was virtually untouchable despite being in the public eye all the time, and here she was, getting him in a very private setting and being very sure that she was going to be doing an awful lot of touching.

Sutherland closed the door quietly behind him, and there was a moment of silence, almost a reaffirmation of what they were about to do, giving either of them the chance to back out if they wanted. Lacey already knew that neither of them wanted to, although they were perhaps wondering about what the consequences would be before deciding that they would be worth it. 

She went over to her bag where she’d dumped it in the corner earlier, digging into the very bottom and taking out a couple of condoms, dropping them onto the bed. For the briefest of moments, Lacey wondered if this was Carrie’s childhood bedroom and sincerely hoped it wasn’t.

Then Sutherland had crossed the room towards her, slipping his arms around her back and slanting his mouth over hers, and all such thoughts were gone from her mind immediately. There was a heat and urgency in their kisses, knowing that they did not have long together, and they very much wanted to make the most of the time they did have.

For a minute, Lacey faltered as Sutherland’s hands came down to rest on her hips. She hadn’t showered or changed her clothes in over a day, and she hadn’t exactly been set up for impromptu liaisons even before that. It was a while since her legs and bikini line had seen much attention, having decided to stay out of the dating and casual hook-ups game for a while and concentrate on her studies. 

Naturally, all that had gone out of the window now, and she couldn’t feel self-conscious now, on the brink of what was probably a once in a lifetime experience. Besides, it wasn’t as if Sutherland didn’t know that she was still wearing the same clothes.

Shaking herself out of her moment of indecision, Lacey decided to take the lead. It had worked downstairs and got them this far. She pushed Sutherland towards the bed, climbing onto his lap again as he sat down heavily on the covers, his hands cupping her arse and squeezing her cheeks gently.

“I never had you down as an arse guy, you know,” she said, very aware of how breathless she was sounding already; when Sutherland spoke, he was barely faring much better in those stakes. 

“Well, you were rather interested in mine last night. I’m just returning the favour.”

Lacey rolled her eyes and kissed him again, beginning to unfasten his shirt buttons. She’d seen him naked, yes, but the circumstances had been such that it hadn’t exactly been appropriate to savour the sight. Now she wanted to explore and admire whilst she had the opportunity. 

Sutherland shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and tugged at the hem of her top, lifting it up to expose her bra, her nipples already pebbled against the lace and begging for attention. He licked at the sensitive buds, the damp lace scratching and rubbing and making everything so much more intense. Lacey wrestled her top off fully and unhooked her bra, one hand carding into Sutherland’s hair as he continued to lavish her breasts with attention, alternating kisses and licks and little tugs to her nipples. 

“Now I guess I see what they say about politicians having silver tongues,” she murmured. The look that Sutherland gave her was almost wicked, a little like a challenge: If you think that this is good, you should see what else I can do with my tongue. Lacey licked her lips at the prospect. Maybe later, if they still had enough time to take their time after giving in to this first fervent burst of lust.

She pushed him down onto the bed; it took a minute or so of fumbling for them to get comfortable against the pillows, but then that sense of profound urgency was back, a frenzy of messy, chaotic kisses as they tried to touch everywhere at once. Lacey raked her fingers down Sutherland’s chest, flicking at his nipples and relishing the hiss of pleasure that he gave. At least, she assumed it was a hiss of pleasure. She did it again, glancing up at his face. Yes, definitely pleasure. His hands had come back down to her arse, squeezing again as their hips rocked together. She could feel him getting harder against her thigh even through their remaining layers of clothing, and she grinned, slowing her movements a little to make him groan. Lacey would not deny that she had a lot of sex and it was a pastime that she thoroughly enjoyed, but there was something of a different thrill in it this time. She had the most powerful man in the country beneath her, practically at her mercy. 

She sat up, unfastening her jeans so that Sutherland could slide his hands down under her waistband, his grip on her arse distracting her as she went for his own fly. At last, his trousers and underwear were off, and she could look at leisure. 

“You have seen it all before, you know.”

“I know.” Lacey traced her fingertip down his length and cupped his balls. “But now I can have a proper look. And now I get to touch.”

“Yes.” Sutherland’s voice was a little strangled, and she could see his breathing hitch as she gave his balls a gentle squeeze. “Yes, you definitely do. Good grief, Lacey.”

“You’re allowed to swear, you know. You’re not in the House of Commons now.”

“Fucking hell.”

“That’s more like it.”

She crawled back up his body to kiss him deeply again, and he pulled her in close. Lacey liked the desperation; seeing him come so undone at her hand when she had only ever really known him in his public persona, calm and controlled and running the country. It made him even more human than everything else that had happened over the last day had done. 

She scrabbled out of her jeans and thong, the extra fabric between them now more of an annoyance than anything else, and she was pleased when Sutherland followed her lead, one hand delving between her legs to stroke over her mound and along her cleft, exploring in the same tentative way that she had done to his cock, the slowness and gentleness at odds with the rest of their hasty encounter. For all Lacey wanted to make the most of the time that she had, she didn’t want this to be a disappointing moment for either of them if they made too much of their haste.

She slipped two fingers down into her cleft, opening her up and unhooding her clit. Sutherland pressed his thumb against the swollen bud and Lacey threw her head back with a groan. She knew that she shouldn’t be too loud, Maddie could probably hear them, but at the same time, she knew that Maddie was on their side. Of course, there were several increasingly implausible scenarios running through the back of her subconscious wondering if Maddie was intending to burst through the door at an incredibly inopportune moment and take blackmail photos that could bring down the government, but at that moment, with Sutherland rubbing at her clit and dipping one finger into her entrance, she couldn’t bring herself to care for the what-ifs. 

She grabbed one of the condoms from the sheets beside them, getting it on and lining them up before sinking down onto Sutherland’s cock. He groaned as his pelvis bucked up to meet her, eyes closing, and Lacey rolled her hips, rubbing up to his fingers where they were still teasing against her mound, not quite getting her there as he succumbed to his own pleasure. Lacey didn’t mind, he could return the favour afterwards once his brain wasn’t dribbling out of his ears. 

It didn’t take long before he came with a guttural growl of her name.

“Fuck, Lacey…”

Lacey just grinned down at him, continuing to rock her hips until he grabbed the base of the condom and pulled out, leaving her right on the edge. His hands were soon back, and Lacey guided his fingers to just where she needed them. 

“Harder,” she gasped as he started to rub at her clit again. “So close, so close.”

Her climax came suddenly, warming her veins, and she felt her knees give way, collapsing down onto Sutherland’s chest in an ungainly heap. He just held her close until she eventually accepted that she was going to have to stop smothering him and rolled off and out of his embrace, as much as she wanted to stay and fall asleep there. There was silence for a long time, neither of them touching the other but both of them acutely aware of the presence in the bed beside them.

“So…” Lacey stared up at the ceiling, knowing that if she looked over at Sutherland then she’d just want to kiss him again and she’d put off the words that needed to be spoken. “What happens now?”

“Well, I guess that depends.” Sutherland rolled over and found her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.

“On what?” She had to look at him now, glancing sideways to meet his dark eyes. They looked earnest, although she knew that you could never be sure with politicians, who were used to twisting words and bending truths. 

“On whether this was a one-time thing because we both liked each other and we were seizing the moment before we never saw each other again, or if we want it to be more than that.”

There was the definite implication that Sutherland would be ok with more than that. Lacey wasn’t sure what to think. She’d gone into this telling herself that whatever happened, it didn’t matter, because after today they would go back to their separate lives. Now that she was here and thinking about it more, and now that she’d had a first taste, so to speak, the harder it was for her to see this as a simple one-night stand. If that was what Sutherland wanted to keep it as, then she would be content with it, but now that the possibility had been mooted… 

“So, if, theoretically, we wanted it to be more than that?”

“Well, it’s a long time since I was last dating with any regularity, but I think the normal course of action would be to exchange phone numbers.”

Lacey had to laugh. “Are you sure that you should be giving out the Prime Ministerial phone number?”

“It’s my phone. Besides, being Prime Minister, it’s a lot easier for me to change my number if you start being weird.”

“True enough. But think about it the other way. I’m not sure how I’d feel about the Prime Minister having my number if he started being weird.”

“Shall we just agree not to be weird?”

Lacey laughed. “Yeah, ok. We won’t be weird. I mean, beginning a sort of relationship with the leader of the country is already pretty weird in itself. I have to admit, if you’d asked me two days ago where I would be now, this is definitely not what I would have said.”

“Me neither. It doesn’t feel quite real.” Sutherland paused, and his hand squeezed hers again beneath the covers. “This feels real. The circumstances are still something out of a melodrama, but you’re real.”

“Very real.”

It did feel real, and Lacey was surprised by that. She hadn’t expected to feel as positive and excited about the prospect of this brief dalliance going further. She certainly hadn’t expected it. Like Sutherland had said, it hadn’t really seemed real before, almost as if she was in a dream. Now though, lying here with him, safe in this old bed in an unfamiliar spare room, without politics and assassinations and journalists looming over them, it felt much more real, and if they could continue it for a while, then Lacey was up for seeing where it went. It would be difficult, she knew that, but that was life. 

Sutherland leaned in and kissed her again, letting go of her hand to cup her face, pushing her back over onto her back. Lacey welcomed him between her thighs again. She still had a while before she had to get home, after all, and even though this wasn’t necessarily a one-time thing, it made sense to get as much out of it as possible. 

[desperatepenguin722]

Just A Drink (Patton x Virgil)

Hi all! This is the second part to the first Patton x Virgil story I wrote, Take A Breath! This can be read as a standalone, or accompanied by the first part! Hope y’all enjoy!

TW: Drinking

    “Come on! It’s just one drink! Then you can go back and dwell in the cave you call a dorm.” Roman walked alongside Virgil, or rather, was attempting to, as Virgil walked ahead. 

    “I already told you no. Don’t you have rehearsal to get to?” 

    “Patton will be coming.” Roman smirked. Virgil felt a slight blush creeping up his neck.

    Ever since the afternoon Patton and Virgil had fallen asleep after Virgil’s panic attack, they hadn’t spoken much. Not on Patton’s part, of course, he’d been trying to talk to Virgil everyday whenever he saw him. Virgil, on the other hand, had been entirely avoiding the dog-loving man. It’s not that he was mad at him, quite the opposite in fact. After they’d woken up together, after Patton had called him beautiful, and held his face in his hands, those soft, gentle hands, Virgil had looked over to the sleeping man, and felt something in his heart that he hadn’t, well, ever. But, then he remembered why they had been in that situation, and he didn’t want to put that onto Patton. So, he would avoid him until those feelings went away.

    “So? I don’t care who’s going.” He paused. “Patton doesn’t drink.”

    “Designated driver.” Roman singsonged. With a sigh, Virgil shook his head.

    “If I tell you maybe, will you leave me the hell alone?”

    “Yes!”

    “Fine, then maybe, now leave.”

    Roman squealed, kissing Virgil’s cheek, flipping his hood down. 

    “Wonderful! See you this evening my dark mooded friend!” With that, Roman skipped, quite literally, towards the building his rehearsal was being held in. Virgil shook his head as he watched him go, he truly had no intention of going, after all. 

                                      ***

    Virgil flipped up his hood, walking out of his Biology lab, feeling lighter than when he’d first entered after having his unfortunate conversation with Roman. He loved science, he found the facts and truth in it to be comforting, and never ceased to be amazed by the complexities of the human body or the things it could discover and do. As he walked, he let his mind wander, watching as the sun began to set, despite it only being around six. That’s one of the reasons he loved the colder months, aside from no one judging him for wearing a hoodie and long pants all the time, not that he really cared what anyone judged anyway. Did Patton like the fall and winter months, too? He could easily imagine him in a soft, red sweater, some black sweats, and fuzzy socks, maybe with a mug of hot cocoa, perfectly snuggleable-

    “Stop, will you stop, please?” In a moment of frustration, he hadn’t realized that he had just shouted at himself. Out loud. The two students passing gave him a look of vague concern before hurrying on their way, presumably afraid. He sighed, why couldn’t he get Patton out of his head? Perhaps, he thought, he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe if he could convince himself that Patton wasn’t as good as he’d been romanticizing himself to be, he could break this spell the man had seemed to put him under. Plus, he was tired of showering at Thomas’, who was the only person that knew about this predicament. Virgil had sworn Thomas to absolute secrecy, threatening him with things much worse than death if he breathed a word to anyone. Truthfully, he didn’t think he’d tell, but he had an image to keep up. 

    Making his way up to his room, he began to form what he thought to be the best courses of action for the evening, to finally rid him of his infatuation.

                                                   ***

    “So, a photon checks into a hotel.” Logan starts, suppressing a laugh. He was half a beer into the night, and quite obviously tipsy, so he’d suggested they all begin telling jokes, him starting, of course. Patton, Roman and Thomas were all listening, rather amused, waiting for him to continue. “The bellhop asks if they can help with the luggage. The photon replies, “I don’t have any, I’m travelling light”.”

    Silence follows the punchline, as if the boys are waiting for more from the joke. Logan, however, bursts out laughing, extremely pleased and amused with himself and the joke.

    “You...you get it? Because...because photons are...a particle representing a quantum of light or other electromagnetic radiation? And…and a photon carries energy proportional to the radiation frequency, but- but has zero rest mass?”

    “My dear, clever friend, no one thinks that that joke is-”

    “You guys started telling science jokes without me?”

    A wide smile spread across Roman’s lips at the sight of Virgil, who, for once, wasn’t hiding deep within his black hoodie. Instead, he wore a form-fitting black, crew neck tee, a pair of black, ripped jeans, and all black, leather Converse. His eyeliner looked freshly done,as opposed to its typical, smudged state. For him, this was extremely dressed up. Roman wasn’t the only one to notice, it seemed, as both Thomas and Logan nodded approvingly at the outfit. Patton furrowed his brows a little, pausing a bit longer on the bits of exposed thigh and leg.

    “Yes! Finally! Someone who can appreciate a good sense of humor!” Logan clapped Virgil on the shoulder, moving over and making room for him in the booth. Amused, Virgil glanced down at the half-empty Corona. 

    “How much have you had to drink?”

    “Oh, that’s his first one.” Thomas took a small sip of his green margarita, lime, Virgil guessed. “It’s good to see you, Virgil. I didn’t think you’d make it.”

    “Yeah, well, I forgot where I put my keys after I, uh, ran an errand. So, Patton’s my way into the dorm.” He cringed internally, knowing how rushed and half-thought-out it sounded. If anyone noticed, no one said anything. “Besides, who’d want to miss out on this wonderful little spot?” Sarcasm dripped off every word as Virgil spoke, looking around the small dive-bar the group had found when they’d first moved on campus. They’d been too young to drink then, but now, three years later, it’d become mainly Roman’s favorite establishment to inhabit. Not because he necessarily liked to drink, but simply because he could get the drinks for free. At least, he thought he could.

    “Won’t your legs be cold?” 

    Virgil turned to Patton, who wore a look of concern, similar to the one he’d worn the day he’d fallen asleep in his arms…

    “What?”

    “The tears.” Pushing his glasses up, Patton motioned to his ripped jeans. “Won’t your legs get cold?”

    “I-”

    “Yeah, and what happened to your sweatshirt?” Logan leaned forward, slurring slightly, having just finished his drink.

   “It was dirty. Why is everyone so concerned with me? I came here to drink, not to be questioned.”

   “Aw, it sounds like someone’s had a crummy day.” With an ever present smile, Patton slid the drink menu across the table. “Believe it or not, kiddo, their milkshakes are super yummy.” Unsurprisingly, a strawberry milkshake is exactly what Patton happened to be drinking.

   “I don’t want a milkshake.” He tried to keep his voice firm, and ignore how the tenderness, the simple innocence that was Patton made the walls around his heart begin to crumble. No, he wouldn’t let himself fall, not again. “I’ll have whiskey on the rocks.” 

   Before Patton could voice his concerns, the waiter had nodded and rushed off to fill the order. Virgil avoided his eyes, turning to Roman.

  “So, got any jokes, theater boy?”

                                 ***

   The night progressed, well, it progressed. After two more Coronas, Logan had fallen asleep, snoring softly as he slept on his folded arms. Roman had challenged Thomas to an arm wrestling competition, and lost terribly. Virgil had had one drink, then another, and was on his third glass of whiskey. With every drink, he attempted to swallow down more and more feelings. He’d downed his entire second glass after Patton had pulled his sleeves to cover a majority of his hands, and leaned his head to the side, giving Virgil a curious look. When Patton looked into his eyes, he felt terrifyingly seen, and for someone that tried to fade into the background as much as possible, his entire body rejected this with a passion. Hence, the disappearance of the whiskey. The more he drank, the stronger and harder to ignore the messy-haired man’s feelings became. Virgil, as it turned out, didn’t necessarily become obnoxious when he drank, he just, well, spoke more. He’d shared stories about his childhood, and about his first dog, Winter. Roman, though trying to listen, kept getting distracted by the tiny umbrella in his drink, and proceeded to giggle at it for twenty minutes straight. Thomas was only slightly tipsy, the second most sober, after Patton of course. Patton didn’t seem to be bothered by this, though, listening to everyone’s stories, jokes, and advice with a smile. Nothing ever seemed to knock away that smile. 

   At eleven, Patton’s phone rang out with a pre-set alarm. “Alright, kiddos, let’s pack this show up and head out, we’ve all got class in the morning.”

  “No, I want some more tiny umbrellas!” Roman whined, sadly pouting as Thomas began to drag him from the booth. 

  “I promise I will buy you a hundred tiny umbrellas some other time, okay, sweet prince?” Roman sighed, nodding at Patton. 

  “C’mon.” Logan hardly stirred as Thomas and Roman wrapped their arms around him, helping him out of the booth and getting him to Patton’s car. Virgil, though, still sat in the booth, watching as Patton fumbled for his keys. Through slightly blurred vision, Virgil couldn’t help but admire how handsome Patton was in those ever-falling-down glasses. 

   “Hey, Pat?” Patton turned his attention to the man still sitting in the booth, tilting his head a little to the side.

  “Yes, Virgil?”

  “You- y’know that you’re really-”

   As he leaned forward as he spoke, Virgil found the ground approaching much faster than he expected, especially considering he hadn’t expected it at all. He would’ve gotten well acquainted with it, had it not been for Patton’s quick reflexes.

  “How about we finish that thought in the car, honey, hm?” Patton patted Virgil’s shoulder before wrapping his arm around it, leading him outside. Honey? That was new. The simple word spun around Virgil’s already-twirling head, soon making him unsure if the swaying in the ground  could be attributed to that, or to the drinks. He concluded it was probably a mixture of both. That, and how close Patton and he were pressed together until they got to the car.

   Soon, with only a little difficulty, all five boys were loaded into Patton’s 2013 Lexus. Patton, of course, was in the driver’s seat, glancing up in the rear view to check on the three boys all leaning on each other in the back, Logan in the middle, completely asleep once again, Roman snuggled under one of his arms, Thomas leaning on his other shoulder.  Virgil sat in the seat beside him, head leaning on the window, eyes lazily blinking as he watched the streetlights pass. Soon becoming bored with his view, the dark-haired boy slowly turned his eyes to Patton, and though his tongue felt heavier than lead, he tried to get out what he’d started earlier at the bar.

   “Hey- hey, Pat?” 

    Patton nodded, looking over at the red light. “Yes, Virgil?”

    Virgil leaned over, getting close enough to see the definition between each eyelash covering Patton’s smooth, chocolate eyes.

   “You wanna come back to my place?”

   “Virgil, we live in the same dorm.”  The younger man blinked, nodding a little, then chuckling, slumping back to the passenger side.

   “Oh, oh yeah.”

                             ***

   After everyone had been taken to their dorms (some having been nearly dragged), Patton was helping Virgil get to theirs, his earlier offer still fresh on his mind. 

  “M’so tired.”

  “I know, kiddo, let’s get you in bed.” As Patton helped Virgil to his bed, the boy chuckled a little, causing Patton to cock his head to the side, kneeling to remove his shoes. Virgil shook his head a little.

  "Why do you call everyone kiddo?"

  "Well, I, uh, I just do." He smiled a little, a soft blush forming on his cheeks. "I like taking care of people, you're all my kiddos."

   The last line wiped any smile from the younger man's lips, a gentle frown finding its way there instead.

   "But- but what if one of us wanted to be something different?" Patton chuckled.

   "Like what, Virgil?" He swallowed a little, catching Patton's eyes and holding them as he spoke.

   "Like yours."

    There was a beat of silence between them, Patton's hand still slowly removing Virgil's shoe. He cleared his throat, standing, grabbing and wetting a washcloth before returning to a still waiting Virgil. 

    "I think that's something that we should talk about in the morning, honey." He sat next to him then, gently taking off his eyeliner, holding his chin delicately with his free hand. Virgil tried not to tremble beneath his touch, feeling every ounce of any alcohol-fueled courage he had slowly dissipating. Now, he just wanted to sleep. 

    "I-I can do it." He attempted to grab the cloth from Patton's hand, all while avoiding his eyes.

   "It's no worry, I'm nearly finished-"

   "Patton." Virgil cut him off, firmly taking the cloth. He willed his voice not to betray everything he was feeling, taking a deep breath  in attempts to keep it steady. "P-Please, just let me do it."

    Wordlessly, he did. Making his way to his side of the small room, he glanced back at Virgil once, heart aching. But, morning would come soon enough, and he repeated that until he was tucked in bed and shutting his eyes, praying that it was true. 

                                                        ***

    Patton awoke to the sound of groans coming from his bathroom, familiar groans. After a moment, he peeled himself out of bed, heading towards the noise, sleepily rubbing his eyes. When he got to the bathroom and opened them, there kneeled the groaner, head resting on the lid, curled up. Patton took quick action, assembling all he could to try and get a hangover cure. He grabbed Gatorade, tea, Advil and a comfy sweater, laying them all on Virgil's bed before heading back to the bathroom. As to not scare him, he spoke softly, making sure to make it clear that he was there.

   "Hey, kiddo. How're you doing?"

   "I'm never drinking again. Why do people do this?"

    Patton chuckled, kneeling beside him, lightly rubbing his back. "To forget. Or to remember."

    Virgil furrowed his brows, looking over to him. "Jesus, Pat."

    Patton smiled, standing him up, flushing the toilet and helping him brush his teeth. Virgil's face quickly flushed, and embarrassment filled him. He didn't remember most of the night before, and strongly disliked being so heavily taken care of now. But, he didn't object, part of him truly reveling in Patton's touch, part of him feeling too sick to overthink. After they were both settled into Virgil's bed, Virgil drinking a Gatorade and Patton getting Netflix loaded, Virgil looked over to Patton, watching him. He watched as his brows furrowed in concentration, the scar above his right brow twitching slightly. He admired the man so deeply, he had to know if he said anything he shouldn't have, if it was too late to go back.

    "Hey, Pat?" Not looking up, but nodding, Patton responded.

   "What's the haps, kiddo?"

   "Did I say anything…weird last night?"

    Without any hesitation, Patton shook his head a little. "No, kiddo." Looking up, he smiled softly, hoping Virgil couldn't see what was hiding in those eyes. "So, how does Lord of the Rings sound?"

[andwhatdostarsdobest]

now it’s up to the dogs [t.h]

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff and so many good boys and girls

Summary: they say dogs are mans best friend but could they be our guardian angels too? 

Word Count: 4.7k

Prompt: ‘ma’am is this your dog?’

this is my submission for @hazsterfield writing challenge, it was touch and go as to whether i was going to get it in on time but it’s finally here !! it’s kind of a 101 dalmatian au, you know i could write about dogs and not include my fav film let me know what you think of it !

happy reading, lovelies 

masterlist

They always say dogs match their owners, mirror their personality, even look like them. It’s easy to tell who you are going to find at the end of the lead by the dog attached to it. Or so they say. Looking at your own dog, you aren’t sure how true this can be.

Toast is bounding around the living room, the tip tap on the wooden floor echoing throughout. He is the goofiest dog you have ever met, repeatedly fumbling over his own legs and crashing into all sorts of furniture, never even dazed in the slightest. But under all that he is sweet too. He has this uncanny way of knowing exactly when you need him to lay his head on your lap and just let you draw tender strokes from his nose, trailing all the way down his back.

When you think about it, he is the one true constant in your life. When you were younger, you never dreamt that the solid part of your life would be a dog but here you are and honestly, you don’t mind. Toast may have his oddities, but he is a surprisingly good listener. Perhaps that is because he can’t speak back, but you prefer to think he genuinely cares.

In many ways he is the perfect companion.

Maybe that’s why you can’t find someone, because you are looking for all the qualities you find in your dog. It would explain a lot.

Regardless, Toast was bursting with energy, never seeming to tire, something you certainly lack. The similarities just aren’t evident to you.

You are propped up against some pillows in your window seat, noting the humorous juxtaposition of the serene world outside your window and the chaotic one behind it. The thought, ‘dogs embody their owners’ has been swirling round your mind since you woke up, after a tweet popped up on your timeline, last night, saying something similar. At first you were inclined to believe it, until you turned your attention to Toast, who was lying on his back, body contorted. His own vigorous rolling making his ear turn inside out and his tongue flop on his face, flecks of spit somehow coating his entire head. You couldn’t be more different.

All morning you had been overtly observing him, trying to find the likenesses but you were yet to land on anything solid.

“Come here, pup,” you call to him.

Without hesitation he comes careening into your outstretched hand and begins licking your palm, his tongue soft and wet. With your free hand you ruffle his ears, cracking up at the dopey face he is pulling.

That dog is barmy, but he makes you happy, you hope you do the same for him.

Toast nuzzles into your leg trying to convince you to move over. Before you could, his paws are already resting on the window seat next to you and with one great leap he settles in besides you. Even though there was barely enough room for yourself, you still create a space for him to sit comfortably.

You continue to stroke him, his fur silky between your fingers.

Maybe people only seem like their dogs from the outside because there is no way we can compare really. They are so selfless and giving, never wanting more than your simple love. Perhaps the statement should be ‘owners become more like their dogs’.

A woman catches your attention from the street outside your window. Covering the slivers of exposed skin were tattoos, a variety of colours snaking around her body. You are too far away to work out what any of them are, except for one bright orange one on her hand, that perfectly matches the shade of her hair. In her hands is a small, dark grey dog, stark of fur. It’s pink belly poking through. Dogs begin to look like their owners. It really seems like a stretch in this situation. The woman looks like a walking art exhibit, an abstract masterpiece. While her dog is barren, simplistic, devoid of vibrancy. Although they both have wiry hair framing their faces it isn’t enough. The most similar quality is their uniqueness, you can tell they certainly both have a strong sense of character, but there isn’t any physical resemblance that you can see.

Lightly shaking your head, you shift your gaze to Toast, who is staring intently out of the window, quietly whimpering.

“What do you think? A good match?” you ask him.

“Arf.” The way his jowls are pulled back tells you all you need to know.

“Hmm, yeah, I wasn’t sure about that one either.”

Leaning back against the wall, you readjust the cushion at the base of your spine until you feel comfy. A rough feeling spreads across your hand, that rests on your knee, and you look towards it. Toast is licking the skin in modest strokes, eyes looking up at you, wanting to comfort you.

You giggle, “it’s okay, silly pup. Maybe the next one will be the one.”

Both your heads turn back to the pavement, the question still playing on your mind.

A child of about ten skips along the pavement.

“Oh, definitely not.” Toast shakes his head.

“I meant the next, next one,” you confirm.

The child is gripping a red rope lead tightly, which trails just behind her as a very elderly Labrador follows. His pace is lumbered and his muzzle grey, his face drawn out and taut in his old age. But his head is still held high, tongue lolling to the side, watching the child with a shine in his eye. Although the girl is skipping along, her short legs prevent her from getting very far, so their pace is evenly matched. They both stop half way along the path, the girl rubbing between the dog’s ears, a smile encapsulating her face. The dog’s tail vibrates through the air, so fast it becomes a blur.

“Huh,” you mumble to yourself, Toast’s wagging tail in your periphery.

Perhaps it’s not written that your zest for life diminishes as you get older.

Toast has his nose pressed into the glass, lips flat against it. His breath creating a foggy circle around him. You can tell there is going to be a wonderful patch of slobber left over when he’s done. One you will have to wipe off. But how can you be mad at that face? He has such an endearing quality, always in awe and wonder of the world around him.

You scratch behind his ear, causing his leg to start thumping, indicating you’ve hit the sweet spot.

“You’ll always be loopy, won’t you?” you chuckle.

Toast is thumping his leg so hard he starts to push the cushion beneath him, off the window seat, almost taking himself with it.

“No.”

You lunge forward, placing your hand under his bum and pushing him back up. He doesn’t even react, continuing to lean into your affection. Scratching along his entire body now, running your fingers right to the end of his tail, you wonder what you would do without your dog. Your best friend.

“Woof.” His bark so loud it rings in your ears for a few seconds afterwards.

Toast is looking at you, but as soon as you turn your attention to him, he snaps straight towards the window again.

A guy around your age appears from behind the iron railings, clad in a baggy black hoodie and joggers. A navy baseball cap pulled down low. He gives the impression he is trying to go unnoticed and he probably would have succeeded if he didn’t look up as someone else crossed his path. In that brief moment, you catch a glimpse of his face, warm and inviting, the pale skin capturing a rosy glow. He smiles at the passing stranger, crinkles gathering at his eyes, a pleasant and nurturing aura emanating from them. As you watch, your lower lip slips away from the upper.

“Kinda attractive,” you murmur.

At that Toast’s ears prick up and he begins barking continuously. Short yips with one long howl in the middle. If only he could speak, you would love to know what all this commotion is about.

“Sshh.” You wrap your hands around your dog’s mouth, conscious that the guy on the street may hear. Toast stops making a noise instead lapping at your palm. You roll your eyes at your nonsensical dog before turning back to the street.

The guy is holding something, a short leather lead. He had a dog too. Now that really caught your interest. The dog was stocky, the opposite of the slim built guy, her short coat grey, with a hint of blue. She isn’t exactly small, but you wouldn’t call her a large dog either, about the same size as Toast. She pads along next to her owner, content to walk at the pace he sets. Her eyes often wondering up to him, where he would greet her with a smile.

“It’s got to be bullshit, dogs and owners looking alike. The only thing similar about those two is their lack of colour.”

Toast whines.

“Yeah, I know, I know, you can’t see in colour so what difference does it make. Trust me on this one, Toast. It just doesn’t make sense.”

You glance around your flat, occasional splashes of colour standing out, but now that you really look at it, it’s more neutral than you realised.

When you turn back to the window, the guy is gone. A meagre part of you sinks, which is pointless, you don’t even know him. He’s just a stranger that happened to walk past your window.

Two more men make their way down the street, past your window. One with scruffy, unkept blond hair, a beige unbuttoned trench coat and a shirt untucked from his trousers. With him was a dalmatian, pristine coat shining in the morning sun, each spot perfectly round. It was an odd pair if ever you had seen one. But they both share a chaotic look, a wildness brewing just below the surface.

Coming from the opposite direction, a man, wrinkles distorting his face, white hair so thin it was barely clinging on. He is carrying a newspaper, rolled up so it is easier to hold. A beautiful St Bernard plods at his hip, taking up half the pavement and looking inquisitively at the other dog. In his mouth, a ginormous stick, more like a branch, it’s jagged end clinking along the railings.

The men nod their heads at one another, the dogs stop briefly to have a sniff, but the bigger dog is blocked from getting any closer by his own stick.

These thoughts aren’t getting you anywhere. It was time for some fresh air.

“Time for a walk.”

Toast leaps up, careening around the room, bum stuck up in the air when he stops to check you are still coming.

“Alright, let’s go.”

You grab your coat and scarf, putting them on and shove your phone, keys and purse into your pockets. Lastly, unhooking the leash from the peg, Toast running in circles around your legs.

He was shaking so much, excitement radiating throughout his body, it was making it incredibly hard to clip the brown leather lead onto his collar. But with a little bit of persistence you manage it.

When you step outside the icy air hits you, a shiver travelling down your spine and a grunt pressed against your lips. You draw your coat closer and readjust your scarf, making sure it covers any bare skin. It hadn’t been this cold yesterday, the months were changing fast.

Pitiful whines sound next to you as Toast looks up, his eyes rounded in an attempt to get you to feel sorry for him. He fidgets on the spot, pulling his head round in the direction of the path, which happens to yank your arm too, the lead hanging from your wrist.

“Alright, alright, we’re going now.”

That made him perk up, his floppy ears lifting in the centre and his tail wagging frantically.

“Come on then.” You nod in the direction of the path.

The dog shot off, nearly ripping your arm from the socket.

He was usually eager to go for a walk, but this was a new level of enthusiasm. He was practically sprinting towards the park.

Something had clearly caught his attention, something he wants to go explore or possibly chase.

Making your way down the road, you try to keep a steady pace but that was easier said than done, when you have a dog pulling you on with all his force.

Toast is panting with his effort, little flecks of spit gathering in the corner of his mouth.

“Would you slow down, boy, you’re going to pull my arm off.” You tug on his lead attempting to pull him to heel, but to no avail. He ignores you and if anything begins to pull even harder.

People walking past are giving you odd looks, clearly wondering why you can’t keep your dog under control. In fact, you are starting to feel a little embarrassed. He has never acted out like this before. He may be nutty but is usually well behaved, especially on walks and with other people. You really aren’t sure what has got into him. You just hope he drops it soon.

Toast’s gaze has been focused solely on the gates to the park since you left the house, making a continuous beeline straight for them. If you weren’t paying closer attention, he would have dragged you right in front of a passing car.

After a few disgruntled honk, judgemental glares and a shout of “oi, get your animal under control,” you arrive at the gates. The park is the picture of autumn. Golden leaves showering the floor, some scraped into big piles by the groundskeeper, newer ones littering the path. The ground is damp and the air captures that, a fresh, earthy scent that instantly lifts your mood. Autumn is your favourite season and it isn’t hard to see why.

Lining the path through the centre of the park are whimsical lampposts, not yet alight as the sun is still out. This park is one of the reasons you chose your flat, it was beautiful.

Toast has stopped and continuously cocks his head to the side, ears pricked and alert. He is obviously waiting for something. Watching until it comes back into view.

You bring your hands together, rubbing them to generate some more warmth. It is times like this that you are extremely envious of Toast’s thick fur coat.  

“Shall we keep going?” you direct towards your dog. He looks from you to the corner of the park, where a fountain stood, a gentle stream of water sprouting out the top and trailing down the sides.

“Wanna go that way?”

The lead is hanging loosely by your side and he grips it in his mouth, backing into the park.

“I’m coming, there’s no need for that.”

He let the lead drop and then trots happily in front of you, now content you are heading the way he wants.

It was mid-morning so there are a fair few people milling around. Some taking their dogs for a walk, other’s grabbing a quick cup of coffee from the cart in the centre of the park to keep them warm (it is the best coffee around after all). All of them wrapped up, layers upon layers causing them to look like puffy marshmallows.

A soft fog rolls gently along the ground, absorbing the vibrant shades of leaves. It impacts visibility enough for you to want to stay on the safe side, keeping the lead firmly clasped to Toast’s collar.

Now that you are inside and tracing the outline of the park, he has completely stopped pulling. He does seem intent on finding something, every few seconds twisting his head from side to side. You are too focused on observing all the beauty around you, like the white glow peeking through the branches as the sun shines down from above. Squirrels scurry over the grass, chasing each other’s bushy tails and twisting round the tree trunks. Leaves crunch beneath your feet whilst others blow gently in the breeze, hanging onto branches, clinging onto the last remnants of summer.

You inhale deeply, letting the crisp air fill your lungs and soothe you.

As you watch two birds soar through the sky, twittering at each other, you approach a bench. Someone is sitting on the only dry patch, knees far apart and back hunched, a phone in his hands. Toast starts tugging, trying to lead you to the side.

“Not again,” you utter, pushing forward.

Toast whimpers but eventually gives up, his head hanging lower.

It is hard for you to tell him no, his face made for seeking sympathy. But you also don’t want him learning bad habits. So for now he needs to stay close.

Halfway through your second lap of the park you notice how hard Toast is panting.

“Do you need a drink?” you ask.

At that his ears perk up.

“Alright, let’s go to Alvin’s.”

Alvin owns the coffee cart, and not only did he make the most flavoursome coffee, he also left out a water bowl, which he regularly tops up with fresh water, for any passing dogs. A nice man really, always greeting everyone with a smile.

After about thirty seconds of walking, the cart comes into view and Toast speeds up beside you. He must be really thirsty. You pick up the pace too.

Another dog was lapping from the bowl, a grey dog, who felt vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place her.

Toast is really straining at the lead now, his breathes coming out hot and heavy, visible in the cool air.

“Tess,” a voice calls from the side, causing the little dog to trot away. The water bowl now free for use.

Toast looks between you and the bowl and back again, his head tilting.

“Go on, have a drink,” you encourage.

Deciding the water is what he wants he makes up the last couple of feet. He always sticks his whole face in the bowl when drinking, water splashing all over the surrounding surface. Loopy dog.

While he drinks you scan the nearby area, searching for a bench to sit down on, preferably a dry one. One with a large pile of leaves catches your eye, the leaves scraped to one side and piled almost as high as the back of the bench itself, threatening to spill over. Once Toast is finished you both wonder over to it, taking a place and leaning back, closing your eyes for a brief moment.

A pressure on your lap makes you reopen them. Two grey paws, tipped with white are perched on your thighs, two watery black eyes staring up at you.

“Hello,” you coo.

This time you recognise the dog, “are you, Tess?”

You finger the tag attached to her collar, the name printed on it.

She yips, tail wagging.

Toast comes over, worming his head in between your legs, desperate to receive attention too. To reassure him you ruffle his ears, letting him know he’s still your favourite boy.

“Where’s your owner?” you say aloud, looking around for anyone who seems like they might be the owner.

Who would leave a dog like this alone. There is a slight visual in your mind, neutral colours at the forefront, nothing tangible.

The grey dog bends down and picks up a small stick, dropping it into your lap.

“Oh, you wanna play?”

Both dogs bark enthusiastically, backing up so you can stand. But as soon as you do, they grip onto your sleeves, dragging you forward, their hind legs straining from the efforts. You fight against it but with the both of them they outmatch you and you’re soon sliding along the path, slipping on wet leaves.

You have no idea what has gotten into them, you don’t even know who this grey dog is or who she belongs to. The cold autumn weather has hardened the ground, resulting in several dips and mounds that trip you up. The last one almost gets you, barely enough time to catch yourself. But the dogs always stop for you, making sure you have your balance before they continue. Each time you hope they are finally stopping, and you’ll be able to catch your breath, but then they shoot off again, clearly not having reached their destination yet.

You’re moving so fast across the grass you don’t have a chance to look up and spot the same guy from before, with the black hoodie and inviting smile.

Tess lets go of one sleeve, making you stumble to the side, Toast right there to make sure you stay upright.

“What are you doing, silly dog?”

He parks himself firmly on the ground, your sleeve, now completely soaked with slobber still gripped tightly between his teeth. Guess you allowed yourself to relax too soon.

He glances to the side and a flash of black and grey passes your periphery. There is no time to worry about that as you focus on freeing yourself from Toast’s grip, wrestling with your dog for control and ownership of the situation.

He really had never acted this way before. You aren’t prepared for it.  

Slowly but surely you are worming free, you can feel the material start to rip at the seams.

With one sharp, swift tug you are thrust to the left. “Aaarrgh.”

Your body slams directly into something sturdy, hands finding its heaving middle. A dull ache permeates from your side and for a few moments you are too dazed to focus on anything. Whilst you are trying to regain your composure you don’t notice the two sneaky dogs wrapping themselves around your legs, both their leads becoming tangled and trapping you.

“Ma’am is this your dog?”

The soft sound shakes you back to life. Pressing against you was the boy in the black hoodie, his face so uncomfortably close you could smell his breath. Not that it smells bad, is that a note of cinnamon?

“Urh,” you stutter, still not fully understanding the situation.

The guy is moving his hands around you like there is a force field preventing him from touching you. His face scrunched up, trying to figure out what boundaries he shouldn’t cross. It was kind of cute really.

A small chuckle escapes your lips.

“Oh, you think this is funny do you.” His tone is accusatory but the smile creeping onto his lips suggests otherwise. His shoulders relax, and his torso softens against you, the awkwardness diluting.

“Not funny, mildly amusing perhaps.”

He rolls his eyes and glances down. Following his gaze, taking in the two dogs who were trying to look as innocent as possible. Toast’s head is cocked to the side, one ear flopped inside out from the extreme angle. The grey dog, who you now know belongs to him, is  sitting next to his leg, one paw lifted in the air, big black eyes wide and very effectively making you feel sorry for her.

“Aww, she’s so sweet,” you fuss.

“Hmm, she knows that, she’s using it against you, don’t give in.”

The guy waves his arms to swat at the little dog’s ears. The sudden movement causes the lead to restrict even more, toppling you forward. His arms instinctively wrap around your torso, balancing both of you out.

Straightening yourself back up again you look at Toast, your lips in a tight line and whisper, “Toast, this is embarrassing, why?”

The guy seems to notice your embarrassment. “It’s okay,” he offers.  

He leans over to inspect the situation. “I think we should be able to undo this,” he glares at his own dog, “as long as there is no more funny business.”

She gives a little yip which Toast copies.

“Hi, by the way,” he catches your eye, tongue lightly grazing over his lips, “I’m sorry, this isn’t usually how I first talk to pretty girls.”

“Wow, that ever work for you?” you laugh.

Shrugging his shoulders, he replies, “half and half.”

You shake your head, carefully tugging at one of the leads, working out if it’s yours or his. Both of you annoyingly choosing brown leather. Running your fingers along it, you reach the handle, which is still slipped over your wrist. It’s yours then.

“I’m Y/N,” you hold out your hand the best you can, despite it being stuck in between the both of you.

“Tom.” He can only reach your fingers which he gives a little shake.

Shimmying the handle off your wrist you work to unravel them. Tom follows suit. Both the dogs begin to stir, not happy you’re about to foil their plan. It starts off as small yips but soon escalates into alternating barks.

“Guys, don’t get upset just because we have unravelled your plan.”

“Literally,” you add.

Even over the barking you can hear little grunts coming from Tom as he tries to be as delicate as possible when unlooping the lead from around your legs. In a brief moment of pause you glance at him, red splotches showing on his cheeks and droplets of morning dew concentrated on a small patch of his curls. He must have brushed past a bush or tree only moments earlier.

Just as you are starting to get wrapped up in him you feel a pressure subside from your lower half, one of the leads comes completely free.

“Oh, thank god,” you both say in unison.

Unfortunately, there is something you had yet to notice. The dogs didn’t drag you to a random spot. They brought you all the way over the fountain, where the sheets of ice have only just begun to melt.

Distracted by your premature celebrations you don’t see Toast wiggling his body, a typical sign he is ready to pounce. He barges his entire weight into you, one of your legs lifting in the air and coming down on a still tangled section of leather. The shift in balance pulls your other leg from under you. Without even a moment to think you start to tumble backwards.

A bark and a rip echo in your ears as the wind whips them. A pair of powerful arms fold round you as a body follows, lowering over you, hugging you close.

“Got you,” a strained voice says.

You are lying almost horizontal, your fingers dipping into the water. Tom is hovering above you, his face so close you can see the exact and slightly unusual curve of his nose, the way the bridge expands to the side as opposed to upwards.

A numbness begins to envelop your fingers and you draw them back, realising they are submerged.

“You okay?” concern etched on his face.

“Mhm,” you nod, pushing him away from you as you try to get back to your feet.

Toast is looking away from you, guilt written all over his face. You rub your gloveless fingers, all feeling leaking from the tips.

What did it feel like to be warm and toasty? To have actual blood circling through your fingers? It is impossible to remember. Thoughts of roaring fireplaces, bloated hot water bottles and steaming mugs of hot chocolate overcome you.

You blow into your hands, your breath coming out shaky as your teeth chatter.

“Here, let me.” Tom holds your hands, his smooth fingertip kissing your palm as he draws them to his lips. A shiver runs through you but this one has nothing to do with the cold.

Your concentration is fixed on his face, his lips pucker as an exhale of warm air fills your cupped hands. His eyes drift up to yours as he blows a second time.

“Mmm, that’s so good.” Eyes flickering from the sensation.

Now it is his turn to concentrate on you, his lips picking up at the sides whilst you bite down on your own.

Below you, Toast and Tess share smug glances. Dogs shouldn’t be able to do that. But what do they say, dogs match their owners? Maybe they know what’s best for you too.

Pulling away, Tom says, “why don’t we go get a coffee to warm your fingers?”

Your hands intertwine like tree roots, destined to support each other for all their remaining years.

tagging: @thelazypangolin @uglypastels @tomhollandthirst @mysteryavengers @h-osterfield @theprincesofasgard @underoos-shield @spiderrrling @dtftomholland @rachramblesstuff @merryspidermas  @fratboievans  @spacetalbot

[starlight-drive-in]

All My Life, for You - Ch. 1 - The Good Life

This chapter: Saeyoung Choi/MC (named), Saeyoung Choi/OC Later Chapters: Saeran Choi/OC, Saeran Choi/MC

Fic Description: Mi-Cha and Saeyoung have been happily married for 5 years and their lives have never been happier. The same could be said for Saeran who is now in a much healthier place than he was a few years ago. The twins are close once again, their lives are healthy and normal for the most part. It would seem the picture perfect happily ever after, if it weren't for the fact that someone who has been looking for them for a long time is about to make an unwelcome appearance.

Saeyoung has two things in this world he has sworn to protect, and nothing is going to stop him from keeping his promise this time.

Chapter Description: MC and the twin's are on vacation, enjoying some much needed time off. MC's name is Mi-Cha, Saeyoung calls her "MC" as a nick name because he's a huge dork. This first chapter is sickeningly sweet and definitely cheesy (don't worry things will get serious later) - but this is Seven and MC we are talking about. Also Saeran's a troll this chapter, but he's a soft boy inside.  AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773562/chapters/46809151

In all his wildest dreams Saeyoung Choi never thought his life would be like this. Relaxing at the beach with the two people he cared the most about in the world? He was pretty sure he would never achieve something so amazing yet so simple as this.

If he was being honest with himself he never really thought about where his life would end up. Surely dead by the age of 25, either by the hands of the agency or by his father if he had ever answered the question honestly.

But that was before. Before her. Before the real truth came out. Before he found out about all the lies. Before he found out the one thing he was positive in accomplishing just seemed like an elaborate scheme out of some type of angsty day time drama made to make women swoon at all the tragic boys in it.

Well, that was all in the past now. He and Mi-Cha were about to celebrate their 5th wedding anniversary. He and Saeran were close again. Something hadn't thought was possible to ever achieve again. He wasn't involved in the agency anymore, they'd all but disappeared shortly after his and Vanderwood’s departure. Which was, of course, no fault of his own. No, not at all.

Everything was good now. More than just good he thought, watching Mi-Cha's hips roll back and forth as she waded into the ocean. Oh yea, God had blessed him indeed. He loses himself for a moment just admiring her shape, and the waves lapping at her skin. He bites his lip absentmindedly as he suddenly has a great urge to get back to the hotel.

“Isn’t it a sin or whatever to ogle a woman like that” He hears Saeran say through his fantasies, approaching from behind and plopping down on the towel next to Saeyoung.

Saeyoung’s mouth slacks in embarrassment at getting caught by his twin for just a moment before he retaliates. “Not when that woman is my wife. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it when you’re older”

“Ya know I was going to give you the other half of this ice cream but now, I don't think I will” It’s then that Saeyoung even notices said ice cream, just in time for Saeran to take a huge bite of the aforementioned other half.

“Aw maaaan you know that’s my favorite.”

“What a coincidence it’s mine too!” Searan gives a devilish grin, taunting his brother.

Saeyoung rolls onto his side “Waah you’re so mean, how could you leave your only brother to starve like that!

“Payback’s a bitch Saeyoung” Saeran responds, finishing off his snack.

Saeyoung immediately seises his dramatics and sits back up placing a hand on his brother's shoulder “Shit, Saeran I’m sorry.”

Saeran lets out a cackle. “You should see your face! Holy shit.” Quickly turning to hysterics in rolling laughter, assuming a similar position on the ground that his brother previously displayed. “I’m just fucking with you!”

Saeyoung’s mouth slacks again, this time in disbelief at Saeran’s dig at him. “You got me good that time.” He admits with a smile.

The two of them had been through a lot together, and not together. They had suffered enough hardships for multiple lifetimes. There were things Saeyoung would never forgive himself for. Some part of him hoped that Saeran would never fully forgive him either. But after drug withdrawals, suicide attempts, explanations upon explanations, written letters, failed joke attempts and enough ‘I'm sorries’ Saeyoung had quickly lost count, Saeran had finally warmed back up to him.

He started smiling again. The first time he laughed at one of Mi-Cha's jokes he almost cried. The first time he laughed at one of Saeyoung’s jokes he did cry. At first, Saeran had found Saeyoung’s jokes annoying, and no doubt still does but when the resentment for him had faded he discovered they had more in common than not. They both had a sort of dark sense of humor that the other one understood so deeply due to the fact that even after their separation they had still spent more than half their lives together.

Since then it's only gotten better. Saeran will dig at him like this every now and then but honestly? It doesn't bother Saeyoung in the slightest, it's nice to see his brother coping and recovering, and if that was how he wanted to do it then it was more than ok with him.

“Are you trying to kill your brother again?” Mi-Cha says, returning from her swim in the ocean and ringing out her hair.

“Sorry Mi-Cha, it’s a beloved pastime of mine.” Saeran shrugs, lying back on his towel, arms folded under his head.

“Nooooo, MC not you too!” Saeyoung latches onto her leg, pleading.

“I'm sorry babe, it was just too easy. You know Saeran loves you vewy much and would never try to hurt you.” then adds “again” through a muffled cough.

Saeran nods. “She’s got me there”

Saeyoung laughs despite the truth in their statements. “I love you guys,” he says earnestly “thank you for coming with me.” He says to his brother.

“You think I’d say ‘No’ to a week off of work? You know Jumin always gives me off if it involves spending time with you right?” Saeran answers.

“I'm sure it helped you got him his own room” Mi-Cha adds moving to sit next to Saeyoung.

“What, you think he doesn't want to hear what I'm going to do to you when that bikini comes off?” Saeyoung with a sly smile.

“Yup, time for more ice cream.” Saeran hops up on his feet to leave the couple to their own devices.

“Poor Saeran” Mi-Cha laments.

“Poor Saeran?! Poor Saeyoung! I'm the one that has to try to control myself around you, looking like” he paused gesturing to her body. “This, with all these people around.”

“Oh please!” She tickles him teasingly for just a fraction of a second causing his body to twist in reaction “You seem to fare well enough most of the time.” Mi-Cha teases.

“That's what you think, but God Seven is simply a master of self-control. Lesser men would have succumbed in mere seconds to your immense beauty.”

She giggles brightly, lightly bumping him with her shoulder. Saeyoung always had the most unique ways of making her feel special. “All Hail God Seven!” she says enthusiastically

“Now you’re getting it Babe!” he excitedly exclaims, throwing his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close.

“All Hail God Seven” they shout together before sharing a string of quick kisses in between fits of giggling. They remain oblivious as people around them look on curiously.

A few meters away Saeran rolls his eyes but smiles despite himself. His brother and sister-in-law are strange, but it’s hard not to find their love endearing.

--

A little while later the couple is back at the hotel alone, Saeran having gone on a hike to a nearby mountain summit to watch the sunset. Mi-Cha stands in front of the mirror in the bathroom attempting to brush the salt water tangles out of her hair. Saeyoung has taken post behind her lightly rubbing his hands down her sides, ‘admiring’ the way her dress hugs the curve of her hips. Mi-Cha pulls her hair to one side of her head and continues brushing. Saeyoung takes this as an opening and immediately begins placing kisses to her now exposed neck and shoulder.

Mi-Cha giggles “Sae, I’m going to end up smacking you with this brush on accident with you so close.”

“Then be done! Your hair looks good the way it is.” He says resting his head on her shoulder and looking at her in the mirror.

“It's still so tangled though. I just want to look good for our dinner tonight.” She huffs.

“Mission accomplished, you look beautiful as always.” He beams at her in the mirror again and squeezes her tightly from behind. “Here let me see” He offers, holding his hand out toward the brush. She hands it over. Within a few minutes, he has her hair all brushed out and even manages to get it into a loose side braid for her.

“I know it’s not great but-” he starts before being interrupted by her lips on his.

“It’s perfect, thank you Saeyoung” She smiles and wraps her arms around his waist. “I was getting really frustrated so that was a big help.”

He blushes, happy to help her and glad she liked his handiwork. "Anytime baby." He says swiftly leaning down to plant a kiss on her shoulder once more before holding her at arm's length and assessing her. "My beautiful wife, how on earth did I get so lucky?"

She smiles bashfully at him, even after all these years simple comments like that still make her feel like she's on the moon. "Pleasures all mine, Handsome." She replies, inching closer to him once again until their lips meet. It doesn't take long before Saeyoung is begging entrance to her mouth with a light swipe of his tongue, which she allows. A slight moan escapes him as their tongues dance together. His hands roam lower on her torso before grabbing at her backside softy, prompting her to break their kiss.

"Sae we can't, we have a dinner reservation remember?" She says, knowing what he was thinking.

"Let's cancel it" he pouts. "Oooo I know! I could hack the restaurant's system to swap our reservation with a later one!"

"And ruin some poor couples night?" She challenges him teasingly.

"Hmm ok, good point. I really do want to take you out. It's been a while since we've gone on a date, and you deserve it. Plus I think you'll really like this place."

She smiles up at him and ruffles his hair before kissing him one last time. "I'm going to get my shoes on and then we can head out?"

"Sound good." He nods.

She exits the bathroom and walks back into the room proper, going to find her shoes.

A few minutes later Saeyoung exits the bathroom, his bright red hair now side-parted and gelled. Despite his jokes earlier in the week that he’d wear “Hawian print dad shirts” all week, he dons a grey button up and pastel yellow bow tie with black slacks and suspenders.

Mi-Cha raises her eyebrow as her mouth drops open. “Whoa.” She says simply.

“Glasses?” Saeyoung says before removing his frames “Or no glasses?”

“Glasses or course, or do you not want to see me that badly?” She laughs.

“You know I have contacts, silly girl! I just don't wear them a lot because I stare at screens all day.”

“Doesn't seem to bother your brother.”

“I don't know how. And he says I’m the crazy one” He chuckles still pondering how Saeran can stand wearing contacts as much as he does, and colored ones at that.

Mi-Cha approaches her husband, taking his glasses from him and placing them back on his face. “Glasses.” she says decidedly “I’ve always loved your glasses. Besides, they match your outfit too well not to wear them.”

“And so it is decided! My brilliant wife has once again bestowed upon me her infinite wisdom and flattery!” he says dramatically.

She laughs. “Come, my most dapper husband, let us go to the place of dining!" Responding just as ridiculously, as she opens the door to their room so that they can leave.

-----

Thank you for reading! This will be my first multi chapter fic and I have big plans for it.

[ebonyphotographs]

A Kiss... as A Suggestion

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

27) For Ignoct prompted by @unleashed-hell [read it here on my AO3]

I can’t actually thank you enough for the ‘suggestion’ please laugh at my terrible usage of a joke I’m really grateful for the chance to use creative flow. 

“Well then…” Prompto stated sassily. His eyebrows raised high in a fashion that had Noctis as physically on edge as possible. His tone hadn’t sounded as optimistic before as it did now.

“No,” Noctis pointed and raised his voice above the music playing. “Don’t you even, Prompto.”

Gladio had focused in on their conversation a long time ago due to the topic. The burly fellow simply couldn’t resist a flirtatious encounter. He was way more humored than he needed to be, which was another factor that added to the nerves building up in Noct’s stomach.

“Hey, don’t side with him,” he quickly directed to the man as he started to laugh.

Ignis remained standing firmly in place where he’d been listening to them banter the matter. The idea of what Prompto was already insinuating filled him just as evenly as it had filled Noctis with panic. At a time like now, nothing would be more embarrassing than to kiss his partner in front of the both of them. Of course Prompto already knew, but it was starting to sound more like a dare to convince Gladio than anything else. Ignis swallowed hard.

Maybe…

“Oh come on, you guys can’t honestly act so shy.”

Prompto’s gaze returned to Noct with a suggestively smug expression. His cheeks were flushed from the drinks they’d shared throughout the night. It wasn’t as if they weren’t old enough to toss a few back – or to be prepared for the effects of doing so. It was only going to get worse from here at that rate. The apparent had yet to hit the air and yet Ignis felt he already knew. He was pretty sure they all knew. Noct was fighting it enough to start considering what he should say to steer their interests to anything different. What a cheeky situation.

“You guys have kissed at least once, right?” Gladio asked.

Ignis adjusted his glasses. It wasn’t as if he could pretend he didn’t belong in the discussion nor that he couldn’t hear what was being said around him.  

“Well,” Noctis whispered, unsure of himself. “We… uh…”

Gladio waved an arm in the air at him. “Pfft, that about says it all.” He laughed again.

Prompto could see Noct’s self-esteem visibly drop. “That’s real lame bro. You got anything else to justify that lousy answer?”

Ignis stepped forward towards his partner and grabbed his shoulder to reassure him. “Reasonably, you shouldn’t expect him to rush a relationship.” Noct was more than grateful he’d broken his silence.

“It’s not like there’s pressure, right?” Gladio contradicted. “You two clearly love each other; why aren’t you kissing?”

“Yeah, why aren’t you two kissing right now?”

“I already told you P, back off.” Noct’s face was a thicker shade of blush suddenly. Ignis slipped a grin, all too aware that it couldn’t be blamed solely on the wine. “We do… kiss. A-and other stuff.”

“Other stuff?!” Prompto lunged in his seat. The exaggerated motion forced liquid to spill over the rim of his cup.

Gladio gave a nudge into the blonde’s ribs, a provocative notion which the couple attempted to ignore. Noct turned back to face Ignis and saw him pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head.

“No way. You’ve gotta prove it then.”

Oh no.

Ignis brought both hands up to cover his entire face. So, he really was frustrated then. “Why do you feel it necessary to antagonize us?” he groaned.

“What’s the matter Igster? Ya flustered? Bothered, even?”

“We don’t have to prove anything,” Noctis followed Iggy’s lead. Despite that Ignis had been holding him well in place with solid thinking, he couldn’t help his mind from going there. It was tempting… to kiss him with them watching – just to shut them up at least.

Maybe, just maybe.

Dirty as it was, Noctis wasn’t so cautious about their bond. The same could not exactly be said for the more reserved of the duo. Ignis was professional; he was proper (as demonstrated by his ability to hold down his alcohol). Even still, the implications were taking their tole on his poker face and Noctis could tell he was overthinking it.

“You know,” he emphasized towards Ignis. “It is just the guys. I mean, they’re not gonna tell.”

Ignis stammered. “N-Noct.”

“It’s a celebration,” Gladio reminded them with a cheer. “You should loosen up!”

Prompto playfully winked and kicked his legs around. “Go for it, loosen those lips!”

Ignis’ shoulders tensed. “Are you… honestly thinking-? Noct?”

Noctis inched closer to him. “It’s just harmless fun. Besides, it’s not like I’m ashamed of us.”

Keeping the hoots and hollers of their friends as much in the background of his attention as he could manage, Ignis aimed his eyes away from everyone. Evidently, he wasn’t so structured afterall.

“If you’re gonna say you’re dating ‘and stuff’,” Prompto mimicked a quotation with his fingers, “then I suggest you seal the deal with your mouths.”

“Yeah, and none of that cheap one-second puckering either,” Gladio added. “Make it a real one!”

The tips of Noct’s shoes tapped against the floor tile as he closed the gap between their chests. From up close, he could see how undone he truly was. He was starting to sweat and with his body language so posh, it was outrageously obvious that he was putting on a front. In the reflection of his shining iris, Noct could see his camouflaged trembling. Was he quietly pleading, or was he struggling to deny his want to touch him?

Poor thing. He worried just a bit too much.

“Brace yourself, Specs.”

Ignis grounded his feet. He looked back at their audience (who had both leant in – almost in disbelief – to gawk and shout at them) but his green spotlights came back to Noctis with speed. The raven-haired boy’s eyelids fell shut and his jaw angled so their noses could brush. Noctis raised both arms to lace them around Ignis’ neck, then lifted onto his tiptoes for good measure. All practical train of thought fled Ignis’ brain the instant he had Noct’s lips upon him. It was a firm kiss, warm, and just as sure as it would have been if they were alone. His eyes finally closed as he gave in.

Noctis seemed especially pleased. It wasn’t so awful to demonstrate his affections like this. He pushed the kiss deeper, much to Prompto and Gladio’s surprise. Yes, it was all in good fun. Noct knew this could potentially leave somewhat of a scar on his beloved, but he hoped that the trust the four of them shared might outweigh the fear. Plus, the he could test Iggy’s limits. He hadn’t stopped him or shoved him away. There may have been some slim chance this moment proved more for the two of them than it would for anyone else.

So he kissed him again. Then a third time. And four, and five. He dipped his fingers into Iggy’s hair and rolled the strands around teasingly.

Prompto squealed loudly from the couch at the corner of the room. “Aw, damn! He looks so into it!” He gave a few slaps against Gladio’s exposed upper arm.

Ignis’ attitude utterly betrayed the composure he’d failed to sustain. He couldn’t keep his hands from cupping Noctis’ hips, particularly when he sensed his drunken wobbling. Curiously however, Noctis seemed rather steady. At least the motion of his mouth had him thinking as much. Perhaps it was he himself who was dizzy.

For a second, Noct pulled away, but only slightly. Ignis anticipated his love would be completely gone soon and it admittedly saddened him (once he put the prospect of their onlookers away). What passion, he thought. Was he being cocky or was he actually showing off? Was Ignis proud to be shown off?

Just as he was beginning to lessen his embrace, shock flooded his body when Noctis slipped his tongue deep into his mouth and licked all along the inside. Ignis grabbed at his shirt tightly and moaned from the wetness; an immediate regret. It didn’t help that Noctis had taken his own clasp of his shirt into his hands to keep him from pulling away.

No taking that one back.

Prompto was screaming. “You did that on purpose!”

Gladio had rolled to the side for air after witnessing them part. “Oh man- I don’t believe it! Aha!”

“You purposely turned to the side so we could see your tongue!” Prompto continuously repeated his statement in broken fragments over and over.

Noct spun to hide his face just long enough to register what he’d done. Why was it so difficult to hide his giggles? He prayed inwardly that it was worth it; he tasted Ignis’ tongue for the very first time right there in front of them. No way was he going to confess such a thing out loud. A revelation of that caliber would never die down. He’d be hearing about it for years. “You had better believe it now, you perverts. I’m not doing that for you again.”

He eventually accepted that he’d acted selfishly and started to feel bad. He threw his head back to check on Ignis and bit his bottom lip sharply – practically scolding himself – because he looked like he might start to cry.

“Ignis, you okay?” Calling his full name should have indicated his sincere concern. Surely he hadn’t crossed a serious line of some kind.

Ignis stood in the same place with the back of his wrist sheltering a partly concealed smile. Noctis blinked with a bit of apprehension. A huff of laughter parted from him.

“Too much?”

Ignis removed his hand and unveiled a blissful grin, stretched ear to ear. He shut his eyes tight and snorted before fully vocalizing his happiness, much to Noct’s relief. Thank goodness.

“For you, Noctis, too much is never enough.”