#I remember thinking his hair was black for the longest time..... lol
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meownotgood · 2 years ago
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he does not know that I love him. he doesn't know that I would kill a man for him. just look at him. look at his dumb stupid face. he has no idea. he does not know the extent at which I am in love with him. he has no idea, he just sits there, and he doesn't know.
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moni-logues · 1 year ago
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shit i think i send it wrong... hehe. it was Namjoon plus color pink plus strangers to lovers plus library (i just had to, i have a thing for smart bookworm Nam)
Pairing: Namjoon x reader (gn)
Genre: strangers-to-lovers, sfw
Summary: The handsome stranger who's started coming to the library where you work might just one day work up the courage to ask you out.
Content: nothing to be warned for
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: I actually ummed and ahhed about posting this as a response to this request because, whilst it was prompted by it, I kind of want to keep the request on the backburner and do something a little more with it one day, maybe? BUT also like, when will I have the time when I have 5000 other things I want to write too 😅😅 so for the time being, have what amounts to little more than a post-meet-cute situation lol. I hope you enjoy it anyway, anon! Thank you for requesting!
Murakami
A book hit the desk to your left and you turned from your computer to look up. 
Fuck. 
It was him again.  
You glanced at the book. Murakami again.  
“Big fan?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual as you slid his library card towards yourself across the desk to scan. “That’s your third Murakami in a row!” 
The man blinked behind his glasses and paused with his mouth slightly open for a second, surprised. You immediately regretted saying anything and appearing like some kind of stalker in reverse; he showed up at your workplace but you were the one keeping tabs on him. 
“Oh, I didn’t mean-, I’m not- it's here.” You gestured vaguely to your computer where his loan history was listed. “It shows all the things you’ve taken out; I'm not-. I don’t... I don’t remember everyone’s loans...” 
That was true, for the most part, but not for him.  
He had moved recently and your library (well, it wasn’t yours, but it was where you worked) was now his local. He came in frequently; he ordered many books through the inter-library loan system; he reserved books that were unavailable; he picked new things from the displays. He seemed to have an interest in everything. At the moment, that interest was mostly all the novels of Haruki Murakami. 
“This one’s my favourite,” you told him as you picked it up to scan.  
“Oh really?” 
“Yup.” 
“What others have you read?” 
You looked at him as you slid the book back to him with his library card. 
“All of them.” 
His eyes widened. 
“Really? All?” 
You nodded back and he had the decency to look a little impressed. 
“Then I look forward to reading your favourite. I’ll let you know what I think.” 
“Absolutely, but only if you like it.” 
He laughed and you smiled, trying not to look like you were about to lose your mind because this was the longest conversation you’d had with this handsome stranger since he first came to the library and your heart fell at his feet. You could feel your shirt start to stick to your back as sticky, nervous sweat pricked on your skin; your face was aflame and you prayed he wouldn’t notice; your heart was beating so fast and so loud, you could hear the blood roaring in your ears like a jet engine. 
Let’s be clear, you weren’t usually like this. No one turned your head like this. Ever. You were notorious amongst your friends for being cool – cool to the point of being cold. You were hard to win over; you were a stalwart friend-to-lover. You needed that base, that foundation; the safety of familiarity, the uncovering of a person before you were in too deep, that was what you needed from a new romantic connection. 
Until a man named Kim Namjoon walked up to the library counter one Thursday morning and you lost your mind completely.  
There wasn't much remarkable about him, not really. He was good-looking enough: a little above average height; a little slimmer than average build, maybe; a deep voice which he used to be friendly and polite, a little hushed in the quiet of your workplace; he was just a guy. Just A Guy. With soft, shiny black hair and thick-rimmed glasses that he didn’t always wear. A guy who read anything and everything you recommended to him and- 
Was that why he was reading Murakami? You suddenly remembered a portion of his first visit that had been, until now, lurking deep in the darkness of your embarrassment. You had been so flustered by your immediate, intense reaction to him that most of that conversation had been erased from your memory through some kind of automated self-preservation. But out of the gloam, it came. You told him Murakami was one of your favourite authors. You laughed when Namjoon trotted out the usual criticisms of his work—criticisms you didn’t necessarily disagree with but which, nonetheless, didn’t ruin the enjoyment you got from his books. You responded archly, you now remembered, a little curt, a little too strongly. Namjoon caught your tone and changed tack; he promised that he would read Murakami for himself and see.  
Your heart raced even faster and you thought it would work itself to arrest if you didn’t find a way to calm the fuck down very, very soon.  
Was Namjoon reading Murakami because you said you liked him? If he was, what did that mean? Nothing? Everything? 
You spent a week obsessing over it. You hadn’t told a single one of your friends about Namjoon because you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand the ridicule, the teasing, the questions. They noticed you were distracted, tense, a little tetchy, a little weirder than you usually were. You told them it was nothing, you were fine.
You decided you had to take matters into your own hands. You had to ask him. You had to ask him something anyway, get something out of him. You had assumed this was a silly workplace crush; you had assumed, firstly, that you would get over it and, secondly, that it would never be reciprocated.  
You’d been wrong before.  
“What did you think?” you asked when Namjoon walked up to the desk and handed over the book he had taken last week. “Think you’ve given Murakami a fair shot? Care to make a judgement?”  
He had been preparing this answer since before he took this book out last week. He hadn’t intended to read another Murakami, but, when he’d reached the library and looked over at you, with your ponytail and pink, fuzzy jumper that you clearly favoured and which he thought you looked so cute in, he knew he was going to bottle it. So he’d picked up one more book that said Murakami on the spine and bought himself another week’s reprieve.  
He had also forbidden himself for chickening out again. It had been too long now and he wasn’t usually this shy about this stuff. He had asked a person on a date before; it wasn’t rocket science and it wasn’t the end of the world if you said no. You just made him so nervous. 
“Y’know,” he began, tapping his finger against the book’s cover in a way that he hoped came across thoughtful rather than nervous. “I think I agree with you, actually.” 
You face broke into a victorious smile that he could see you try to stifle. 
“Naturally... I am always right.” 
“Always right in matters of opinion?” 
“I’m afraid so, yeah; you’d better get used to it.” 
He laughed; this was going better than he’d expected. He couldn’t be 100% certain, but he was fairly sure this could be counted as conversation that was almost bordering flirtation. It was, at least, the most casual and familiar you had been so far. That had to mean something. 
“So which one are you taking this time?” you asked him, pre-emptively pulling up the library catalogue to see which Murakamis you had on the shelves.  
“Actually, I think I’m going to read something different this week.” 
“Oh, you like Murakami so much you want to stop reading him?” 
His stomach flipped; you were teasing him. He was used to being teased by his friends but this made him flustered. You made him flustered. 
“Yeah, exactly.” He laughed. “No, I just have a new project I’m working on and I need some references, want to do some research, you know.” 
You sighed performatively. 
“I suppose I can allow that.” 
You looked up at him and he had to will the blood from his face; you looked expectant, just a little haughty, and then you raised an eyebrow in question and he was amazed he didn’t pop an entire boner right there in the library.  
“What are you looking for?” 
You.  
That was what Namjoon wanted to say. If he had been a different person, maybe he would have. And maybe it would have come out cool and cocky in a not-off-putting way. And maybe you’d have liked it.  
But it wasn’t what he said. What he said was that he had a list of books on the history of fine art that he needed and which you dutifully looked up and pointed him towards.  
As he walked away from the library a little while later, laden with books, he cursed himself. Next time. Next time he’d ask you out for sure.  
Or he’d pick up another Murakami. 
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tallymonster · 7 months ago
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Memories of Us
Chapter 18 : Remember Me
AO3 || Master list
A/N: so this is my longest chapter...it's around 6.7k words lol and there's a lot of lore drops going on soooo yeah enjoy lol.
Thanks to @cheesy-cryptid for their blessing on each chapter. Your support means the world to me.
Super special thanks as always to @micropoe10 because this girl has literally been here from day 1 supporting, uplifting, pushing, and helping me with this story. She even wrote the last few bits to save me from myself and I can never thank her enough. Love you so so much Rue.
Tags: @justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @tragedybunny @davenswitcher @wayward-hel @hereliesblackdragon @misscrissfemmefatale
Astarion had begun to realize how much he enjoyed Octavia’s company. She was the eternal sunshine behind the clouds and each bit of affection from her broke them apart and allowed the light to come through.
The thought of someone caring about him was a lost concept, that someone could see something inside him other than what he saw himself.
Octavia was utterly infatuated with Astarion, she wondered if there was more to this routine the two of them found themselves in. The feeling of their bond becoming stronger, drop by drop of her delicious blood.
She was desperate to unearth more of his secrets, all while still hiding her own. Octavia was blinded by her own hypocrisy, the irony of her wanting to dig into his past while denying her own started to eat away at her. As she stared at herself in the mirror by the front door, she felt something tugging at her to be truthful with him.
There was a knock on the door, she took a deep breath as she finished fixing her hair.
You need to be honest with him. He was with you. It's the least you can do.
Astarion waited outside Octavia’s house, she had suggested going to a night market in Rivington she heard of. A friend of hers apparently told her it was a great place to go on a date.
He was somewhat nervous to be out in the open so publicly with someone. It had been so long since he let himself do it, not feeling the same as when he and Tav would walk hand in hand on the same streets.
Astarion leans on the rails of her front steps, he stares up into the starry sky. The stars sparkled as if they were there just for them. He smiles to himself, hearing the door open.
“Hello beautiful. I was afraid you were leaving me to go to the market all by mys-” He turns and the words are taken out of his mind as he takes in Octavia’s appearance.
She was in a mid-thigh length mustard colored pinafore dress, with a black short sleeved shirt, and some black tights with black leather ankle boots. A woven bag hung from her shoulder. This was one of the few times that Octavia could swear he was rendered speechless.
Octavia giggles and gives Astarion a kiss on the cheek, “Oh come on, you've seen me naked, I’m not dressed that seductively right now.” she walks past him and turns to wait for him at the end of her steps. “Ready to go?”
He nods with a grin and follows behind. As he steps down to the sidewalk, he holds his hand out, testing how she will react to his small gesture.
Octavia blushes, her heart fluttering slightly. She swings her shoulders back and forth, in a giddy wiggle. She smiles, biting her lip and takes his hand in hers. It felt cold, but so safe. She felt his fingers slip between hers in a comfortable lattice.
They walk through the street, silent at first. After they cross the road, Astarion wraps his arm around her waist and speaks. “You look wonderful by the way. I know you said you didn't look enticing, but I beg to differ. I think you look absolutely appetizing.” He squeezes her hip, Octavia’s cheeks are flushed a light reddish tone.
Astarion pulls Octavia close, hugging her in a playful embrace. She laughs as he bends down to kiss her. “You're being awfully affectionate. Are you feeling okay?” Octavia asks Astarion.
He lovingly cups her chin with his hand and pulls her in for another kiss. “I’ve just been really happy these last few weeks. I just figured that since we are on a date, I would act like it.” Astarion shrugs, giving Octavia another kiss before releasing her from his arms.
Octavia leads Astarion down the road to where the market was being held and becoming more populated. It had been so long since Astarion came to the street markets. He hated the crowds, the noise, all the different smells of foods he can't enjoy, but with her by his side it's all just background noise.
Astarion looks down at Octavia, a smile creeps into his face as he watches her eyes light up with excitement. Perhaps he could suffer for a bit longer, she did seem pretty eager to go out like this. Who would he be to deny her such simple pleasures?
Octavia can't decide where to go first. To her left was a stall with handmade leather bound books, to the right some flower stands, and not to mention all the food! She took Astarion’s hand and began to walk towards the flower stand. He smirks letting her lead him to wherever she wants.
“I love flowers. My mom and I had a garden at my childhood home where we grew so many. I tried maintaining it after she died, but it was just so hard to keep it up by myself. My dad was never one for being outside in the dirt even though he grew up near the Druid Grove.”
Octavia confesses with a laugh, she turns to Astarion and her smile drops a bit.
“I'm actually going to visit him soon. He's moving back to the Grove and he asked me to come help him empty out the house…feels weird to go back to basically throw away all the memories we made there.”
Astarion notices the change in her smile, the drop of her shoulders, and the way her hands come together. Her fingers twiddled at the variety of flowers carefully laid out with a far off stare. He takes one of her hands and holds it gently.
Octavia turns to him with faint tears on the corner of her eyes. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “It's been a long time coming. My mom's been gone about 16 years at this point, so why do I feel so sad?”
Astarion’s grip tightens on her hand. He knows this feeling too well. The feeling of moving on and allowing the grief to come and go as it pleases. Astarion takes in their surroundings. The last time he allowed himself to be in this type of market was the last time he saw Tav.
“You feel sad because you miss her, love. I've been there myself. In this very market no less.” Astarion finishes his sentence with a soft breath.
Octavia looks at him, recognizing the same sadness behind his eyes. The grief of losing someone you love. She remembers one of the things that makes her feel better is to talk about her mom, so maybe he can tell her about his loved one? “What were they like? The person you lost?”
Astarion glances back at Octavia, he hadn't thought about telling Octavia about Tav just yet, or at all. He pays for a bouquet of wildflowers that Octavia’s eyes locked onto. They turn and begin to walk away from the stall.
He hesitates before giving her a sad smile. “I’m not sure if this is the right time for that, I mean, I'd rather focus on you tonight, if you don't mind.” They sit on a bench near the edge of the market. Astarion looks down at the bouquet, taking a small pink rose and placing it in Octavia’s hair.
His hand lingers on her cheek, he leans down and kisses the corner of her eye. As he pulls away, he catches the smile that forms from her lips. He hands her the bouquet, as she leans on his shoulder, perfectly distracted away from her questions.
“No matter how long it is. Know that you will always carry a piece of her with you. As long as you remember her and the love you had, you'll never be without her.” Astarion comforts Octavia as they hold hands.
Astarion's good at the little words that everyone likes. The pleasant platitudes to soothe a broken heart. Meanwhile, he continues to push his own feelings of grief deeper down.
He could still see Tav standing at the opposite side of the market, the bag she carried full of contents hung from her shoulder. He stood about 8 stalls away from her. Her sweet scent hit his nostrils as he traded meat for bottles of blood.
Astarion had turned his head towards the scent, nearly dropping the glass bottle in his hand. He couldn't believe she was still in Baldur’s Gate after 30 years. He didn't know how long he was staring, until the merchant cleared their throat.
Astarion thanks them and turns back towards Tav. She's staring into a mirror that sat on top of the stall. She seems as if she's looking for something inside of it, a dreamy far off look behind her eyes. He hesitates wondering if she would be happy to see in or if she’d punch him. He’s frantically running scenarios in his head when he notices her head lift up.
Astarion shields his face with his cowl, only his bright red eyes shining through. He slings his bag over his shoulder and hesitates to walk closer to her. Tav fully turns to face him, her face the same kind loving light he saw in his trances. She smiles, beaming towards him, a look of recognition and love.
He swallows, the world seems to be closing in.
Instantly, though, that same world comes crashing down when he hears a small voice calling out. “Mama!! There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you!” A little girl runs past him, straight into Tav’s arms. Soon after a man comes up to them both and wraps an arm around Tav's waist.
He watches as the man kisses Tav and leads her away.
The rest of that day the way she looked past him burned in his mind. Could she have already forgotten about him? How long did it take for her to move on?
There's no point in dwelling on it now, he's got a lot of other things to worry about of course.
“Astarion? Are you okay? I didn't mean to pry again, I’m sorry.” Astarion is broken away from his thoughts by Octavia’s soft apology, her hand resting in his. He looks down at their hands intertwined. The flowers sit on the bench between them.
“The last time I saw her, she was standing at a stall like the one we were just at. I'm pretty sure she forgot who I was…or she had this look on her face like she did. I’ll never forget the way she looked into that mirror…This glossed over sort of blank empty look to her eyes. It was so strange, like she didn't remember where she was for a second.
Besides, she had a child and a husband? Partner? I don't know. I didn't hang around too long to ask, and I didn't want to cause any issues so I just stayed out of it.” Astarion confides, his voice mournful and far away.
Octavia feels the grip holding her hand tighten a bit, perhaps she's edging too close to his boundaries again? She rubs her hand on the top of Astarion’s arm. The motion soothes him and replaces the icy shards of sadness that pricked behind his eyes.
Somehow though, as he looks into her dazzling green eyes, he feels that lovely warmth in his chest. That feeling of comfort he’s longed for over a century.
They lock into each other, taking in their collective grief. Their sadness was the thing bringing them closer together. “You know, I’ve never told anyone about her.” Astarion confesses, “It's the first time that I've felt comfortable to feel this grief with someone who can relate. Thank you for giving me that opportunity to share a little with you.” He leans down and kisses her sweetly.
Octavia smiles reluctantly, a small shy blush grows on her cheeks. She must have something on her mind. “Is everything alright, my dear? You seem lost in thought.” Astarion asks.
She nods slowly, turning to look out to the market. “I was hoping that I wouldn't bring up anything sad, but I guess I couldn't make it through one date without ruining the moment.” Octavia huffs in a soft awkward laugh. “Gods, for once I wish I could stop being so melancholic and just enjoy the good things my life has given me lately. Like you.”
Astarion sits up a bit, he could feel a slight warmth at the tip of his ears, was he blushing? He clears his throat and asks, “Really? What about me?”
She smiles and plays with his fingers in her hand. “Where to start? You're kind, well…to me,” a soft giggle follows “you're smart, incredibly handsome. I feel pretty fortunate to have someone like you on my side, you understand me. Whoever let you go is foolish to have done so, but they opened up that path to you for me. So maybe they weren't so foolish after all.” Octavia lifts her hand, kissing the top of his hand.
“She didn't leave me. I left her. I left because I was scared. Scared that I couldn't take care of her how she wanted. Scared that she would figure that out on her own. That she would wake up one day and realize that I ruined her life. So I ran. I didn't even say goodbye. I just picked up my bag and left in the middle of the night. Like a coward.” Astarion spits out, the shame and regret dripping from his lips. His lips purse as he bites the inside of them.
Octavia frowns, she takes the flowers and places them on her lap. She plucks one out and begins to softly spin the flower, opening the petals. “You're not a coward.” She brings the flower up to his ear, tucking it behind.
“I don't think you're a coward for trying to keep someone you loved safe.” Her hand lingers on his cheek, caressing his face. “‘The things we do for love’, as my mom used to say.”
Astarion melts into the warmth of her hand. His heart felt the grief it was used to, but with her here it didn't seem so devastating. To allow himself to be vulnerable with someone felt strange, as most things involving Octavia do.
They sit in silence for a few seconds, before Octavia speaks “Not to change the subject or anything because I feel awkward,” she laughs a bit, “but I've noticed that you haven't been wearing your glasses lately? Did something change?”
Astarion bristles a bit, having to think on his feet. He was a bit hesitant to admit that he was not feeling the need to keep hiding behind the magical lenses any longer. In reality, he began to feel more comfortable to be himself around her.
But instead of giving her that openness, he lies again. “Oh, I…felt like I'd be calling more attention to myself if I were to have them on right now. Besides, wasn't it you that asked me why I wore them indoors right as Gale introduced you to me? I feel like this is the opposite of that.” Astarion ends with a soft tilted giggle.
“Imagine if someone stopped us to ask why I'm wearing sunglasses in the evening? As you so tactfully had that first night? That would have definitely ruined the date. Either way, you didn't do anything wrong. You’re perfect.” Astarion pulls Octavia close, releasing his hand on hers, and drapes his arm on her shoulder.
Octavia melts into his embrace, a bittersweet feeling hung over them. She brings her hand up to her shoulder and interlocks her fingers into his again. Astarion felt her relax a bit.
“How long will you be away?” “Do you want to come with me?” They speak at the same time, interrupting each other. Astarion clears his throat and Octavia laughs quietly. She turns her head to ask again, “Do you want to come with me to Wyvern Hills? I'll be gone for around six days?”
Astarion thinks it over, the idea of meeting her father was intimidating, even more so because he would probably have to explain his particular affliction. “I don't think so, darling. You deserve a break, and I don't think Gale can handle everything by himself again. I had him do that once and he nearly quit. It's too much for one person to handle. It would be unfair to him.”
Octavia feels Astarion’s other hand start to run up and down her arm. It's as if he was soothing her, or himself, maybe both? He was beginning to recognize the same comfort of sitting in silence with a loved one. The reminiscences of a quiet evening under the stars.
The sounds of nature envelop them, an intimate orchestra for two lost souls floating in an everlasting ocean of grief. In the vast darkness, they find the light and come together.
Octavia had lost herself to these feelings like so many times before. Astarion was born in it, used to the push and pull of it. Having lost the will to swim against it and let the waves crash over him, caught in its current thrashed around, but this was different.
To Astarion, Octavia feels like the safety net pulling him from the depths. The warmth of her affections was melting away his fears. His heart wanted to tell her how he felt. To confirm that after all these years, he finally felt the warmth of loving someone again.
“I lo-” Astarion almost confesses when he catches himself and continues, "I'll miss you. A lot. I just realized that we haven't been apart since we met. It'll be strange not having you around.” He leans down and kisses her cheek. “Come back to me, okay?”
Octavia felt her cheeks flush and her heart flutter.
Was he..? No…I’m probably just projecting.
Octavia couldn't deny her feelings for Astarion. The little flashes of lightning whenever he held her, made her laugh, or kissed her were exhilarating.
She couldn't deny that she loved him.
Octavia was terrified to tell him so after hearing him talk about his lost love. Who would she be if she heard all his pain and immediately said “Well, guess what? I love you!”? Her face felt hot, how long had they been sitting here?
She turns to Astarion and kisses him, she lets her feelings pour into their kiss. Octavia could feel tears gathering behind her eyes, “I’ll miss you too.” She smiles and kisses him again, feeling him lean into her, his arms wrapping around her.
Octavia pulls away a bit, “I should go home now, I told my dad I would try to be there as early as I could.” Astarion responds with a whine, Octavia giggles as he plants small kisses all over her cheeks, nose and lips.
“Don't miss me too much, Star.”
“Is that a challenge, darling?”
They laugh as Astarion unwraps himself from her, he stands and holds his hand out. Octavia takes it and they walk off into the night.
They leave the flowers on the bench.
--------------------------
Octavia walks up to the cobblestone cottage she grew up in. The patch of wildflowers she used to run in have turned into a full meadow, their blooms alert and open as if welcoming her back.
She walks up the gravel path to the doorway, noticing a small hummingbird on the hibiscus bush her mom lovingly tended. She smiles watching it flit away. Her trip would be over soon. A ping of sadness runs through her, saying goodbye to the place is going to be hard.
Suddenly the door swings open. Her father, Ralomaer, stands at the doorway with a giant grin on his face. He has a red flannel shirt on with some white powder on the bottom and some dark pants.“Hey kid! Have a nice walk? Are ya hungry? Got some breakfast made up for you!”
“Did you make waffles by any chance?” Octavia asks, with a laugh. Her dad tilts his head, his brows furrowed and he shakes his head, “Yeah, how’d you know??” Octavia laughs harder and points at his shirt. “You're covered in powdered sugar, Dad.”
Ralomaer laughs and waves his hand over the fabric, cleaning it up. Octavia walks up to him and remarks, “That must come in handy, you always used to hate doing laundry.”
Her dad laughs, “Well when you live alone, it's kind of pointless to wash one thing at a time. This is faster and better for the environment. Anyway, go eat. I'll meet you upstairs when you're done, it's attic day!” He waves his hands in a flourish, as Octavia walks past him and into the kitchen. Her dad climbs up the stairs.
Later that morning, Octavia sits cross-legged on the floor of the attic. Her father sits across from her on an old wooden chair. Between them sat an open wooden crate full of letters, drawings, photos, and many memories from her childhood.
“Okay, now I understand why you wanted me to come by and have this visit with you so urgently. This is really nice to go through with you, Dad.” Octavia chirps excitedly.
“Well don't thank me, thank your Auntie Taeladra! She insisted I clean the attic since she bought the house from me. Kept telling me something about ‘Preserving family history’ and ‘can you tell Octavia to come instead, isn't this pretty much her job.’” Ralomear holds up his hands, making finger quotes.
“Gods, she sounds like my coworker, Gale.” Octavia and her father laugh, as she rifles through the crate. Finding medals, trophies, countless books, letters, and pictures.
“You know, I think you’d like Gale. He's pretty funny. He's smart, witty, and so quick! He's been a great mentor, and an amazing friend. I'm really lucky to have him.” Octavia smiles warmly as she keeps rifling through the crate.
Her father stares at her, a puzzled look on his face. “What? What's that look for??” Octavia asks playfully.
“Are you dating this Gale? That was a lot of complimentary language for someone who is just a friend, my darling.” Ralomear gently teased.
“Dad! No! He's not my type! Besides, I'm way too busy with all the research and work and just…everything.” Octavia laughs, hiding her face behind her hair. She quickly looks away, hoping that her answer would squash this conversation.
“Oh my little bookworm! Don't keep your head in the books too long, you'll miss out on writing your own story.” Ralomear pinches Octavia’s cheek adoringly.
She smiles at her father, a little embarrassed laugh leaves her lips. A feeling of dread grows, she knows that her visit might end with her having to possibly define whatever she's got going on with Astarion. A small seed of insecurity plants itself in her stomach. How could she ever find a way to ease her father’s worries when it came to her love life?
“I’m gonna see what else is back there.” Octavia gets up and starts looking through the rest of the crates that occupied the attic. They were all stacked neatly in the corner of the little room. She walks up to the circular window next to the stack and opens the thin curtain.
Small dust spores kick up as she swings the window open, allowing the fresh air and sunlight to flood in. When she turns she notices a dusty tarp in the darkened corner of the attic. Some canvas frames sat on top of the tarp, it was staged as if it was trying to conceal something.
Octavia comes up to the items, carefully moving them aside. What she finds is an old wooden crate. “What the..?” She runs her hand on the edge of it, easily sliding it open. “Woah…hey Dad? I found something?”
Ralomaer looks up quizzically and wanders over. He stands with a hand on his hip, the other scratches at his beard. “Well would you look at that! Didn't even know that old crate was in here! No wonder your auntie wanted you to come through here, you and your museum skills are great for finding old junk!” he laughs.
Octavia began digging through the crate. Inside were old spell scrolls, tomes, stacks of handwritten letters from her great grandmother, the other adventures she traveled with, even highly detailed hand drawn maps!
Octavia could not believe the amazing treasure trove she had just unearthed in her own home. How long has this been here waiting for her to find it?
She finds a book full of sketches of various plants, animals, and locations all over Faerun. Octavia fixates on a fully illustrated image of the inside of what looks like an Illithid colony! She continues to flip through it, mesmerized by the way everything is drawn.
Octavia turns the page and is struck with drawings of eyes that look relatively close to Astarion’s own. She feels a strange sort of recognition from looking at the drawings.
The blood colored irises that were lovingly depicted in charcoal and ink, have a haunting familiarity to them. She knows Astarion is old, but she never asked exactly how old…
Her father pulls her out of her suspicions, “Lookie here, Tavvy! I found a rather interesting letter!” Ralomear recalls as he unfolds the antique parchment, handing it to Octavia. She reads the letter, her mind a little frazzled by yet another strange coincidence.
Darling Tav,
Laurent tells me you've been having nightmares again. It's been about 20 years since everything happened, are you still being plagued by the memories of it all, or just one particular, specific person? I still have some of my contacts from the House of Grief from my days as a Sharran. If you're serious about taking the risk, I could put you in contact with them. Let me know when you two get settled into your cottage. Lae and I can be over as soon as a tenday.
You're always in my thoughts, my dear friend.
Love always,
Shadowheart
“House of Grief? That sounds ominous.” Octavia remarks, remembering the extreme rituals Sharrans would take in order to release painful memories. Octavia could hardly imagine the suffering of those who felt it necessary to forget something, to now know that her own grandmother endured that shakes Octavia to her core.
“Sharrans eh? Good thing you did that whole exhibit on them! Maybe your friend Gale can help you out with this stuff?” Ralomear remarks.
“Yeah…maybe… Do you think Grammy had some PTSD from the whole Netherbrain thing?” Octavia asks quietly, the seriousness weighing heavy on her heart.
“I’m not sure, baby. Your mom always avoided the subject with me. Something about not wanting to dwell on the past and enjoying the time you had in the now. It was the one thing I never understood about your mom. How I wish you could ask her now.” Ralomear solemnly muses. He looks at Octavia, smiling mournfully.
They stay in the silence for a moment, before Octavia breaks. “I miss her. I could really use her brain right now.” She runs her finger along the outside of the crate.
“I miss her too. You definitely took after her, your brilliance is obviously her doing, my heart.” Ralomear takes Octavia’s hand in hers, squeezing it lovingly.
“I am so proud of you, I know your mom would be too. Now, let's keep digging through her stuff!” Ralomear smiles warmly and releases her hand.
Octavia shuffles through a stack of books, most of them run of the mill books, nothing too noteworthy. Until she notices a blue-gray fabric bound book. In silver letters across the front it read ‘Warming the Melancholy Heart’. She cards through it, until a small hand written letter falls out.
Octavia opens it, scanning the page. She gasos and begins to read the letter to her father.
Laurent,
The Unburdening your wife chose to follow through with should have fully set in by now. I have sent you some recommended reading should you have any questions about the procedure. Your wife has all my gratitude for all she did for me and the others. To give her this blessed relief in this trying time is the least I could do.
As per her concern, she may have some fleeting memories, but those should fade in time. Should she have any aftereffects or complications, do not hesitate to contact me again.
Shar’s blessings be upon you,
Nocturne
“Unburden? What does that mean?” Ralomear asks Octavia, handing her the letter.
Octavia reads through the thin book, the words describing the taking of memories sound as if they're trying to lessen the serious action being taken.
The remedy may seem non-existent, but it is not so. No heart that beats is a stranger to that which gives it joy - you must seek it out however you can.
Octavia flips through the book, most of it is filled with testimonials from people who went through the process. Lines of affirmation for what has been done to forget. Her eyes linger on one of the pages describing the aftereffects, symptoms ticked in red ink, tally marks keeping track of each in black.
✓ Forgetfulness ///
✓ Melancholy ////
✓ Face blindness //
✓ Staring at nothing //
✓ Nightmares of past memories /////////
These shall subside as time passes, you will need to guide your loved one through the process moving past their burdens. Should they seem different, another session may be required.
You may notice your loved one have an empty, far off look to their eyes, that will lift as their healing progresses. If you find they are forgetting more than intended, return to the House of Grief.
Be aware of them looking into mirrors for a long period of time.
"Mirror??? What?” Octavia gasps, covering her mouth quickly after. “Tavvy? Everything alright? Your face looks really sweaty all of a sudden…” Her dad reaches out and places the back of his hand on her forehead. “Oh yeah, you're feeling a little warm, why don't you go lie down? We're almost done for today, so I can finish up and bring some tea to your room?” he gives her a soft pat on the shoulder.
Octavia nods, “Sure, thanks Dad.” she can't wrap her mind around everything she just read and saw. She grabs the sketchbook and the book on Unburdening and walks out of the room. She descends the thin ladder leading up to the attic, then walks into her room, closing the door.
Octavia presses her back against the door, sliding down until she's sitting on the floor. The sketchbook closely held to her chest.
She opens the book back up to the images of the eyes. There's no doubt in her mind that she's looking into the same eyes that she had back on the bench outside the market.
Suddenly, Octavia remembers that she had the enchanted journal at the bottom of her bag. She crawls over to her bag at the foot of the bed, and flips furiously through it.
One entry immediately catches her attention.
Gods, it's been incredibly hard trying to keep these entries as neutral as I can. There's no telling what else could come for A. About two tenday ago, we went through that freaky meadow, A and I ran into a Gur hunter named Gandrel. Said he was looking for a vampire spawn, I noticed A’s whole attitude immediately change. His face looked as if he had been slapped. Those eyes that keep staring at me, turned so fox-like and angular. As soon as we heard A’s name come from the hunter’s lips, it was over. I have never seen him move like that. He swears it’s Cazador, but what would Cazador need him for?
Octavia presses her knees up to her chest. She closes her eyes and tries to push the notion of this being Astarion whom her ancestor is referring to out of her mind. It can't be him, could it?
She reaches over to the foot of her bed and rips through her bag, shaking out its contents, until finding a black velvet bag. She slips the ribbon off, taking out the red leather bound book that Astarion had given her.
She flips through, reading the first few lines. It speaks of people who had been captured, the various ways in which they were beaten, tortured, abused, and finally, bled try and turned.
Each one had an entire 20 page section dedicated to their specific treatment. Near the bottom of one page, she notices a name.
According to Aurelia, the Gur sent someone to find him. I sent Dalarya and Petras to stalk the Gur encampment in Rivington. They are to kill whoever does not give up information.
The boy will be found, I need him to ascend. The Ritual of Profane Ascension will be completed.
I WILL BECOME THE VAMPIRE ASCENDANT.
Ritual of Profane Ascension…where had she seen that phrase before? Octavia goes back to Tav’s journal, flipping through until she sees those words again.
Today, I got a better look at his back.
He's got a circular scar with Infernal written all around. When I saw it the morning after the party with the tieflings, he said it was poetry, but he didn't know that I know Infernal. I was hesitant to tell him what it really was, but something told me to keep being honest.
When I asked him where he got it, he told me it was a gift from his old master, Cazador. I explained to him that I believed it was a binding glyph, Cazador was planning something and whatever it is, it seems he needs the missing piece that I have in my party.
My suspicions were proven correct when we met up with the devil after finishing the Gauntlet of Shar and killing the Orthon.
He told us about this Rite of Profane Ascension. How Cazador needs 7 of his spawn to sacrifice along with many others to make himself into some kind of super vampire that can walk in the sun, go into homes without being invited, all those things that go along with being a vampire….
I'm not so sure about it though. Raphael explained that the soul of the Ascendant would be lost, and he would be a shell of his former self.
I don't know if I could go through with it. Killing all those people? It seems like such a big decision to make, so permanent and serious. We had a group meeting after everyone cleaned up and had dinner. Karlach and Wyll were adamantly against it. They can't justify all that loss for one person to benefit.
Gale and Shadow had more rational arguments, they both had ambitions to be greater than they were through their own rites. A seemed to listen to Shadow over Gale, but ultimately it was Lae’zel that convinced him otherwise.
She told him how all she wanted was to serve her Queen, but after seeing everything we have, she realized that she can't keep chasing the shadow of a lie. Sometimes, we have things we want, and we find that to achieve them, we would lose all of ourselves. If that was the case, what was he chasing after? If he wanted freedom, he's already free.
I think that was what finally opened Star’s eyes.
Star??
“Fuck me.” Octavia can feel the color drain out of her face. She looks around the floor at all the books that were surrounding her. She picks up the sketchbook and keeps looking through.
She noticed that every so often, there are pages ripped out. As if someone tore them up in a fit of rage. When she reaches the page with the eyes, she sees a little doodle of a star beside each one.
Octavia can't help the trembling in her hands, there's been this creeping suspicion inside her for a few weeks now.
The enchantment Gale broke, the log book Astarion gave her, the way he described his lost love seeming like they had been Unburdened and now all this? The clues are becoming glaringly obvious to her, but, it can't be….can it?
Her heart is thundering inside her chest as she keeps going through the pages of the sketchbook, more torn pages, drawings of flowers, and finally near the end of the book, two full pages of the binding glyph that Tav had described.
Three circles, almost like a bullseye, surrounded by Infernal symbols. The scarring looked deep and painful. Octavia’s mind races remembering how Astarion winced and seemed to not want her to touch him there.
Octavia’s eyes survey the page and her breath is ripped out from her lungs when she sees a profile drawing of Astarion looking her right back in the face. She can feel the tears well up behind her eyes, her entire life she had been told about this grand adventure, this amazing thing that her great grandmother had done for the city she loved.
There's almost double the amount of writings speaking all about a seventh spawn. It used a code for their abuses and names but I was one set of entries that surpassed all others in her eyes.
Octavia swallows, she grabs the red leather book one more time, she opens the book towards the end, as soon as she sees his name, it all comes crashing down on her.
I have dispatched the brood. They will find him and bring him home. And when they do, I will make him scream for this.
Their tale was fanciful, but they believe it to be true. Astarion, standing in the sun’s light? Willing and able to disobey me? Inconceivable.
My spawns fail me. Astarion eludes me. I WILL HAVE MY DUE.
Octavia’s blood runs cold.
There it was, hidden in plain sight this whole time. Astarion is everything that she has been searching for. He's the one who was there, the one who was in the paintings, the one who Tav forgot. All the evidence was clear, and now seeing his name in this journal that she barely bothered to look at back home…
Home.
Oh gods, how was she going to be able to look Astarion in the face now?
The only thing that made her doubt all of this was his back. She hadn’t seen it yet. She dreaded having to ask to see it, what would she say? How would he react? She presses her head up against the footboard of her bed, closing her eyes tightly.
Octavia's heart shattered as she sat clutching her knees tightly to her chest. The room grew smaller and the air around her was stifling and thick. Between the sobs, she tried to catch her breath, trying to stop the room from spinning, holding on to her legs, anything to ground her.
But what was left to stand on? Everything she knew up to this moment had been a giant mystery until now, shrouded in a decades-long secret. Locked away behind paintings and books, the things that once gave her comfort, that now sat scattered about her felt tainted.
She shoved them away, call it anger, frustration, fear, it all blurred together now. The floor felt like shifting sand, like it would give way at any moment sucking her down. Hiding her, like the other 7000, like his siblings like him...HIM.
Did he know? Did he know about her relationship to Tav? She had so many questions now and everything felt more and more uncertain. He loved Tav, and she had loved him that was for certain. Was he still in mourning, did he regret leaving Tav? Was she Tav's replacement?
Oh gods the room was spinning as Octavia lay down on the floor curled in on herself. She couldn't think that way, but she couldn't help it anymore. She no longer was thinking with a clear and rational head, instead, she let her emotions control her.
Binding her to the belief that Astarion once upon a time loved a woman so intimately, that she would never be able to fill that void. As sleep took her the last thought that plagued the visions within her mind was one that had read in the journal, something that Tav had penned so long ago.
Would Astarion ever leave Octavia like he had left her? And if he didn't would she ever be good enough for him to convince him to stay?
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shima-draws · 6 months ago
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Hiya!! I saw you were having a hard time, so I'm here to distract you from the things!! >7<)/
Who was your first OC? What did they look like, mayhaps try to redesign/redraw them side by side!
I hope things get better for you soon!!
Aw thank you!!! 🥰
My first OC was either Shima or Riku, I can't remember for sure who came first but they've been with me the longest
And yeah I've redesigned them both lots of times already! I have a habit of redesigning OCs once every few years lol
First art I EVER posted of them? I had to dig into my old DeviantART account to find this, this is from 2011 holy SHIT?? Have I really been on the internet for that long? Anyway old art jumpscare warning
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Aww. Baby Shima art <3
This was before Riku actually got a human form, he actually started out as a Pokemon OC that was like. A weird genetic mutation of Pikachu? Uncreative little me called him Rare Pikachu LMAO or RP for short. Neat bit of lore, when I eventually repurposed him to become Riku I kept those same initials. Riku Promethera = RP :") Just a callback to his origins <3 He's always been Shima's partner tho since the beginning which makes me really emo honestly
Anyway here have 10+ years of Shima and Riku art
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Shima's hair has gotten noticeably pinker but her actual hair style has stayed relatively the same after the very first redesign. God it used to be so DARK and way browner but I think the pink fits the palette very well :"D
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And Riku...I used to strictly adhere to the black color scheme but I think the new one with the earthy tones suits him perfectly since he's a land elemental!
Also I need to draw him pathetic and covered in blood again. Tbh.
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melancholiepeufiable · 1 year ago
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36, Sebchal with some hurt comfort/fluff
hi anon <3 ty for the request
this took wayyy longer than i hoped it would lol. i’m not sure how i feel about it, but i had a vision. i hope you like it 🫶
36. “Come with me. Please?”
******
Sebastian rubbed his hands together, pulling the door open. A bell chimed above, the murmur of conversing customers and smell of roasted coffee instantly surrounding him. He smiled and approached the counter, shaking the snow off his shoulders. 
While he had chosen solitude, people were often nice company… he tried not to think about that too much. In any case, his visits to a café not far from his house were timely. Initially, they were once a month, then biweekly, slowly creeping into a weekly routine. The baristas were kind enough to not remember who he was, asking for his name and order each time without a smile on their face. Maybe that was why he kept returning, maybe he longed for that sense of normalcy. 
He accepted the warm cup, spinning around, ready to settle in the small corner between two windows. A spot isolated enough that he could be left alone to people-watch (and eavesdrop, though he’d never admit to it). 
Only this time, it was already occupied by a man with messy hair and a thick black jacket. The man held a paper cup in his hand, staring blankly at a spot on the floor. 
A red beanie laid on the wooden table. 
Seb walked over, catching bits and pieces of conversations he wasn’t a part of. He slid into the seat opposite, displeased when the man kept staring blankly, uncaring to the stranger that invaded his space. 
“Charles, you need to start paying better attention. I could’ve been a pickpocket.”
“Yes, I know.” He blinked, raising dull green eyes to meet Seb’s. The edges crinkled slightly. “Hello again, Sebastian.”
“Hello again, Charles.”
Charles smiled, his dimples barely poking out. He looked… defeated. His shoulders were slumped, dark circles more prominent than Seb last remembered, and there was a gravelly undertone when he spoke, like the words needed to be scratched to freedom. 
Nevertheless, Seb felt himself start to claw in and hold on to whatever time they had left. “How have you been?”
Charles shrugged. 
“What are you doing here?”
“Skiing.”
“There’s a storm coming.”
“Andrea said it’d be good.”
“He’s here with you?”
Charles shook his head, then huffed a laugh as he set his cup down. For a moment, he looked lighter, more like the enthusiastic boy Seb first met. “Joris thinks I need a retreat.”
“Why here?”
He shrugged again. 
This was a dry conversation – one-sided in a way he dreaded, yet Seb still clung on. It was the longest he’d spoken to someone this month. 
“Well, what a coincidence finding you here, huh?”
Charles said nothing, looking back at that spot on the floor. He lifted the cup to his lips and swallowed. 
“Charles?”
“Yes. Pure coincidence.”
He sighed. It was odd being brushed off by someone Seb knew adored him once. Distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder, but all it seemed to do was make the ache stronger. Or at least, Seb’s ache. Maybe it was unrequited after all – a reasonable explanation for the tension budding at the table – and Charles could sense it. The boy always knew more than he let on. Besides, plenty of time had passed, if anything, simply by being here Seb was pouring salt on healing wounds. 
“Right.” Seb picked up his cup, going to stand. The chair scraped against hardwood. “It was good to see you again. You don’t need luck, but I’ll be watching you on–”
Charles grabbed his free wrist, pulling him back down. “I knew you’d be here, Seb.”
“Oh.” 
“It is why I came.”
Seb blinked, settling into the seat once more. He placed the cup down. 
Charles’ brows pinched upward, a certain desperation morphing his face into one Seb knew all too well. “Everything is wrong. It– you…” He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “It has been horrible since you left.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. I was–I was winning. I had second-place. Why did you have to go?”
He picked at the lid of his cup. “It was time.”
“No, it wasn’t. I don’t– what do I do? Seb, please. Tell me I’m not making a mistake.” Charles shook his head. “I can’t accept that this is all I will be. I want to win, I want to be like… like you and Lewis and Michael and–and I do not want to do any of this alone.”
“You are a winner.”
“I want to be a champion.”
Seb grimaced. “On the bright side, you’ve already–”
“There is no bright side, Sebastian.” He replied sternly. The sharp set of his brow made the hollow of his cheeks more prominent. “I am the champion of losers and I am sick of it.” 
“Leave them. Leave Ferrari then.”
He shook his head. 
“Take a sabbatical.”
He shook his head again. “No, no.”
“What do you want?”
The twist of his lips, the reddening of his ears, the fidgeting of his hands – they all pointed to a boy struggling against impulse. Charles blurted. “Follow me next time.”
“No.”
“Come with me.” He said earnestly, eyes round. “Please.”
Seb sighed and leaned forward. “Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Maybe they were two lonely people, two miserable men in their own comforting bubble. Happiness might not have been on their plate, and contentment might’ve been fresh sold out on the menu, but they could always try to make their own. They had two sets of able hands and two brains that were as analytical as the other. It was possible. 
Seb reached out and took Charles’ hand, smoothing his thumb over roughened and chilled skin. “Are you okay?”
He gave a half-shrug, lifting a shoulder sluggishly. 
“Are you here alone?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you staying?”
“A hotel.”
It would be a mistake to give in so easily. Thinking of Charles was dangerous. He invaded a countless number of Seb’s nights and caused many sleepless hours, sometimes extending into the early morning when the sun would seep into the room. 
Each night was worth it. 
“Stay with me.” 
Charles opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. The trust was not broken, but Ferrari was a double-edged sword sometimes. A driver would learn the good and the bad at the expense of knowing who was reliable. Seb knew this. 
“A storm is coming. Spend it with me. I can show you my garden. It’s a bit wilted now, but that’s okay. We can have hot chocolate and watch the snow or a movie. I have a dog, Bruno, you’ll like him.” Seb smiled. “I’d rather have you there than not. We don’t have to spend this storm apart.”
Charles looked at him, a light stain of pink high on his cheeks. “I would not like to be left in the hands of strangers if anything goes wrong.”
“I’m not a stranger. So, what do you say?”
He smiled widely, eyes brightening and dimples deepening. “Yes. I’d like that.”
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not-poignant · 1 year ago
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Hi! Sorry if you've answered this before, but how do you keep track of all the details (e.g. characterization, worldbuilding, etc.) when you write something long? Love your books, and hope you're getting rest!
I really just depends, anon! I have different methods per story.
For example, re: A Stain that Won't Dissolve, I have nothing except what's in my head and what's in the story. I'll ctrl+F for any details that I need to double check before writing future chapters.
For The Nascent Diplomat, I have nothing except a single 4 page Word document that mostly just differentiates between the different clans with vague mentions of appearance. That's it. Oh and ctrl+F to look up details.
For Underline the Black and the rest of the Rainbow I have an Obsidian Vault. Obsidian is free program (unless you need it to sync between devices, and then it's a one-time very modest payment and they entirely deserve it) and I like it more than World Anvil because I can build my world the way I want. I can give you an idea of what that looks like for Underline the Black here:
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The folders on the left are all like Wiki articles on all the characters. The graph view allows me to identify node categories by colour, and find what I'm looking for. I'm actually in the character pages for this about once or twice per chapter, but I don't need to use it often anymore because I remember a lot of the details now (except, for some reason, Caleb's eye colour). Here's an example of how detailed I get for the articles:
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And obviously for more main characters, the articles are either more detailed, or way, way less detailed lmao. (Also Efnisien is in the 'omega' category not because he's an omega, but so I can more easily find him, lmao).
For Vexteria I have what's in my head, but I'll open a vault for that eventually. I'll need to.
For Fae Tales canon, I had a bunch of Word articles that I didn't often need to check for any reason. They were like...good early on, but then became kind of redundant. I get frustrated if I can't keep 95% of the details in my head at all times. Towards the end of The Ice Plague I actually started to sometimes use the Fae Tales Wiki to find details, lol.
Which is why the Mallory & Mount Obsidian Vault is pretty intimidating to me, but that's mostly because I haven't started writing yet:
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For Falling Falling Stars and Spoils of the Spoiled I had nothing at all, except for what was in my head.
As you can see, anon, it really just depends on the story! My longest story (Falling Falling Stars) had no worldbuilding notes at all. And then other stories do get some worldbuilding. Underline the Black does because I knew I'd be spinning off couples/stories, and keeping track of like 10 different characters in 5 different couples can get overwhelming.
When I'm winging a story, I actually go to my documents less than I search through the stories for what I want to know. It's very common for me to open a story, go to 'Entire Work' and then literally just search through keywords that I know I use, to double check hair colour, eye colour, or something else. It got a bit unwieldy with Fae Tales because there was an awful lot to search through, but it's a lot easier with stories that just have one or two parts.
And I think folks might be surprised how much just...perma-lives in my head. That stuff is pretty much on tap. There's exceptions, especially depending on the time or fatigue (if I'm asked a detail about one of my stories and it's 1.00pm and I'm too tired to write, then I'm also too tired to talk about details without having to search for them myself). Generally speaking I can trust myself to write a story with solid continuity based off nothing except what I remember, and the ability to search the story before committing to something. That has led to minor, fixable continuity errors, but to my knowledge, no major ones.
Character details I find the easiest to remember, honestly, outside of cosmetics (fashion choices, eye/hair colour etc.). Like, I often don't have nearly as much in my worldbuilding notes about their histories or personality details, because that stuff I know I'll remember, and a flaw of mine is sometimes assuming readers will just naturally know it too.
I enjoy worldbuilding, but I don't need it for a lot of my writing. I would say the majority of my writing on AO3 has never had much by the way of worldbuilding or character notes, and even the stories that do like Fae Tales, I was checking those notes once every 10-15 chapters, because I didn't need them more often than that.
Er yeah so I keep track of the majority of it by just...thinking about it or recalling something to do with it. I have a good mind for this kind of storytelling, and I would say it's one of my strengths that allows me to write stories this long, because otherwise I'd feel SO frustrated always having to check documents and vaults etc. before I got started with each new chapter. But I have to admit that worldbuilding for Underline the Black finally forced me to give Kadek a last name, lol.
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adanaac · 1 year ago
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Could I ask about your OC's? Specifically Ophicucus and Tsuru, I love how majestic Ophi is drawn and Tsuru fascinates me both with the concept and also how lovely you have illustrated him.
I hope you are well, and thank you again for helping me with my questions o7.
Sincerely HMAD.
oh good i get to talk about my son!!
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my blorbo my beloved my babygirl he means everything to me
i made him in 2017 so hes sort of grown up with me (or i've grown up and realised things about him that i couldn't have when i was younger. i have so many complicated feelings abt this that i made a short comic about it last year)
to preface this im not a great writer dont expect good writing from me lol all i have is my personal experience and stealing tropes from stories i like
(got a lot to say so its all going under the cut. also a lot of death mention)
So. who is this dude
Tsuru (not his real name in-story, i havent come up with one im happy with), 18 years old, a ghost
he has a little sister, Ori, 15, who was meant to be my sona but then i just drew him more and like drawing him more anyway
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first 2 drawings i ever did of him. he was based off natori natsume yuujinchou at this point, i dont remember why or if i even liked natori that much, but i remember distinctly hes based off him
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u may have noticed he sort of looks older in my older art. this is because first of all art style drift lol but also as ive gotten older ive figured out that 18 isnt actually that old.
theres also a black haired version of him (two actually) its basically something like this ⬇️
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important to know that everything about this dude is a convoluted metaphor
i lovingly summarize white tsuru as "people pleaser" and black tsuru as "nihilist prick" in my head and those are the things consistent throughout all the AU versions of him
(important differences only to me) alive tsuru doesnt act like black tsuru at all thats just his warped self perception (he also doesnt act exactly like white tsuru either)
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also alive tsuru has black eyes and the shortest hair, black tsuru has blue eyes and slightly longer hair (also white tsuru is slightly taller than both of them)
if they all existed at the same time they would hate each other on sight but fortunately (unfortunately?) he is just 1 dude with issues
the general vibe is white tsuru is the "yippee floaty trickster" brand of ghost and black tsuru is the sort of ghost in horror media that stands just outside your field of view in the darkness dripping with blood
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for the longest time only white haired tsuru was a "character", "black haired tsuru" existed just as his corpse at most, a footnote
but over the past 2 years ive figured that hes actually really fun to draw and play with, and in a different way than white tsuru
(wait fuck isnt this just abe trio. i do always almost accidentally draw tsuru when im trying to draw haruaki.... fuck.....)
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(ive had tsuru for long enough that i just keep tacking details from my fav characters onto him.....)
halls smp
so ive been on this minecraft roleplay server called halls smp with other artists for the past 2 years, theres a new season of it every few months with a different theme each time to keep things fresh and ive just been making AU versions of tsuru for it so ive had a lot of opportunity to think about him
season 1 - halloween - jiangshi tsuru
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this one is almost entirely unchanged from his base characterization because i didnt want to rp too much and also didnt know there would be future seasons at this point (also basically after the first day i gave up on being called "tsuru" bc its too hard to pronounce and everyone called me canada anyway)
same basic story, guy dies and theres now a white haired version of him (actually this is the same for all the AUs). in fact im pretty sure the black haired version of this one is exactly base alivetsuru. basically what ive been interested in exploring is different kinds of death, the events leading up to it, and what kind of person he becomes afterwards (but also in equal amounts im interested in making fun designs and playing minecraft and fucking around)
(this feels like the start of the beginners guide...)
i associate him with doves and at the time, tarot card 18: the moon, but in retrospect i now think he's card 0: the fool.
season 2 - winter - ishmael
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guy who died at sea and eaten by a interdimensional whale and got isekaied. loosely conceptually based off moby dick, although i havent actually read it LOL but i did spend a week reading up on drowning and hypothermia
strangely, his death didnt create a white haired version of him, perhaps because he didnt have anything in life to give up his identity and replace it with. (and also remember the hair color doesnt actually mean dead/alive)
im only calling him ishmael now in retrospect, at the time he was just tsuru/canada
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while designing him i had the biggest crisis bc i didnt want him to look to much like this old old oc i had (pic 1) but then i sucked it up and went with it anyway
i never got around to drawing it but his fingers are black from frostbite thats why he wears gloves all the time.
hes one of my favorite iterations of tsuru he looks so mad or upset all the time it makes me want to tease him, and also i think the grey skin and eyebags are very cute
i associate him with whales and tarot card 18: the moon
season 3 - golden grove - fox tsuru
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honestly i think this is my favorite design of him i kinda popped off. i think im just a lot more comfortable working with warm colors. and also i associate white tsuru with foxes anyway (black tsuru is totally a catboy btw) (why is he not associated with cranes if his name is tsuru you ask?? bc cranes are hard to draw next question. he did start out based off cranes tbf, thats where the white hair and the tallness comes from)
dead fox possessing his dead human friend's body (although thats only the most literal interpretation of events; in all these iterations there's only ever been 1 person) the white tsurus are mostly interested in "moving on", whatever that means to each of them
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btw my banner on this blog is him
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hes sort of a set with s2 tsuru to me, mostly bc theyre the ideals that "white tsuru" and "black tsuru" hold taken to the extremes, and also theyre on opposite ends of the "hates people hates talking" and "loves to talk and mess with people" scale
anyway. hes tarot card 10: wheel of fortune to me
season 4 - wild west - mirage
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the desert dragon, mirage. this is the season i started giving them actual names that arent "tsuru" and putting actual thought into the story lol previously it was just vibes-based character design. i have a short thing written about him thats meant to be the script for a comic, but i never got around to drawing it.
a sandworm-esque dragon that got tired of being a dragon and took up a passing witch's offer to give him a human form. this is all a metaphor i think. he has longer hair bc i wanted to spice things up a little
(also i consider this a form of death bc he left behind a giant sandworm/dragon skeleton somewhere in the desert)
the mirage-dragon thing comes from the shen 蜃 (which is used in the chinese word for mirage, 海市蜃楼 haishi shenlou, literally translating to "ocean city and shen's castle"). it's a clam-like dragon that produces foam that creates mirages over the ocean.
if u read "even if you slit my mouth", this is what the "shinkiro" or "shin" in recent chapters is. (i had one of those "smug because i already know all about the mythological creature a story is referencing" moments, which i also had with the four gods in yohaji bc i used to translate a game that mentioned them too)
isnt it romantic in a way? that the two places mirages are most known for happening are the ocean and the desert.
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i dont have too much art of him because around this time i was uhhh (checks calendar) got back into yohaji and got consumed by it for a couple months lol (can u even blame me. it was july to september that was when like chapter 91 came out lol)
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an earlier version of his design that i didnt end up using but i still really like this art
hes tarot card 9: the hermit to me
season 5 - fairytales/medieval - ophiuchus
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NO FUCKING WAY YOURE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE THIS for this one i actually ironed out what kind of people the black haired and white haired versions of him are. and also specifically this one isnt black tsuru but alive tsuru
i have a short poem thing about him, to summarize its like so many other fairytales about grateful animals granting their saviors something, but it doesnt end well for anyone
hes based off ophiuchus and asclepius of course, but also a lot of other snake stories in general, like the lindwurm and baishezhuan
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to reiterate, for none of these stories do i consider there to ever actually have been 2 separate people, its always just 1 fucked up guy
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i also sort of consider him to be a set with mirage, for both being serpents, and also for being "black tsuru whose personality is like white tsuru" and "white tsuru whose personality is like black tsuru", thereby codifying for myself that to him, someone who's stuck in his own head a lot, what matters most to him is his ideals, what all his actions are in pursuit of
he's tarot card 12: the hanged man to me
bonus: dnd character - alba
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i also have a version of him i play for dnd, named alba to match with my party who all have color themed names. a halfling ranger who's very small and very loud. except he has amnesia and cant remember anything from before he was 12 (hes around 18 now according to him), including that he's actually a changeling who just transformed into a halfling to seem older than he is to work at a bar and nearly died in a bar fight.
(if you spend as much time fretting over semantics as me, you may note that changelings are medium sized and cannot transform into halflings which are small sized, for which my explanation is that he's been in halfling form since he was a kid, and after the amnesia he thought he actually was a halfling. this is also why his hair is white btw bc changelings have white hair. pre-amnesia in his "actual" halfling transformation he had black hair. i care too much about semantics but hey isnt dnd the semantics game anyway?)
anyway congrats alba for being the only version of tsuru that hasn't outright "died"!! if only because dnd has actual rules and i can't pull my usual death-ghost nonsense as easily!!!
hes very ship of theseus to me, all versions of him are. what makes up a person? what defines them? is it their face, their appearance, their name? their personality, their memories, their ideals? if you slowly replace each of those, one at a time, with a copy thats very similar to the original, at what point are you a different person?
as thanks for reading all of this i'll reveal what some of the metaphors are, the core of who tsuru, as a character, is to me. maybe this is fairly obvious, but all the death and personality weirdness stuff is a convoluted metaphor for depression and autism, as well as the experience of reading the things you've written years ago, seeing old photos and others talking about who you were years ago and finding that person wholly unfamiliar, that you understand the thought process of that person no more than you would a stranger's, as a result of having taken apart your identity and replaced it piece by piece with things from people you like more than yourself.
im always scared of scrutinizing tsuru too hard because he's just a weird reflection of myself, and i think i'll only be able to write a version of him thats more of a "whole person" once i figure that out for myself. the only way you see your own reflection is through a mirror after all, a flattened 2D surface.
haha this got kinda weird and depressing and personal at the end (mostly bc ive been writing this in the middle of the night, its now 4am)
after seeing my soul laid bare like this, if theres one takeaway, i think its pretty obvious why i'm so enamored by the parts of yohaji that i talk about often (huh wasnt this a post about my oc why did it become about yohaji)
oh yeah i just realised u probably also wanted to hear more about my yohaji version of tsuru specifically. honestly theres not really more to it i just like drawing him in situations. like of course the same themes apply but i just like drawing this dude thats 90% the reason hes my sona. like heres a pokemon au of him i drew recently bc i wanted to draw them as kids and also as pokemon gijinkas
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anyway thats all. not really bc i could go on and on about him but this is way too long and also way too personal at this point. i think about him a disproportionate amount, i only have 2 other ocs i remotely care about and the extent of my thoughts for those guys is "i think hes fun 👍"
this has probably also been like, the 3rd most comprehensive description of tsuru that ive made, 1st being the thoughts in my head and 2nd being the past 5 years worth of DMs with my friend who i talk about tsuru with
(why was this sort of structured like the beginners guide. if youve seen the beginners guide tell me if im right or delusional. if u havent, go watch a playthrough of it, have an existential crisis, and then afterwards tell me)
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louismygf · 11 months ago
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Louis Birthday Tag Game 🎉
thank you @faithinlouisfuture for tagging me 😽😽😽🫶🏼 mwuah!
when did you become a louie?
i don't exactly know when bc i remember for the longest time denying to stan louis (or anyone for that matter) 😭 but late feb (completely missed the defenceless project bc i didn't have twitter then lol) to april of 2021 i think... february being like, oh this guy from one direction is neat i really like his music and april being, wow i have fallen in hell in love with louis tomlinson he is the only man ever
your earliest fandom memory?
WELL, on tumblr, i remember long hair louis with a guitar walking through an airport trended. immediately after he posted the rockstar pic (april 10) of him on instagram 🙏🏽 AND THEN, as a twitter user... this is so cursed but #iheartawards #louies #bestfanarmy 2021 😭 i think i once told myself i'd only keep up with louis on tumblr but not on twitter,, but because i already made a twitter account in april (solely for voting), it just stuck and thus, after iheart voting ended, my stan twitter account was born lol
your favourite song (one off walls, one off fitf)?
i tend to pick two favorites so for walls it's fearless and only the brave and for fitf, all this time and lucky again
your favourite music video?
walls <3 and miss you when im feeling silly hehe
favourite gig?
ltwt manila 2022 😔😔😔😔😔😔🫶🏼 it meant the world to me 😭 louis was so happy and the crowd energy was so good. i don't know if anyone went live for my show but believe me when i say it was loudddd sksks louis was chatty and smiley and interactive and of course so so pretty. vocals were on point i could actually cry recalling the memories of him singing but Ugh it was 😔🫶🏼 those couple of hours were one of the best times of my life for real not even joking
favourite louis hair?
i love when louis' hair is on the longer side, live from london, walls hair or fitf but a bit longer, actual long hair louis Unstyled (now imagine how he'd look if it were styled), afhf hair of course like his hair in the documentary with him sitting and talking wearing his favorite black sabbath shirt And his hair wearing the iconic first ever 28op shirt. basically! long hair OR fluffy and messy <3
favourite louis interview?
the zach sang interviews and his interviews with olivia jones for total access
suit louis or tank top louis?
tank top 😋 but only by a tiny bit difference, he looks good in both!
favourite louis tattoo?
28! and the rogue + spiderweb is sick like the placement is v cool i think... tiny smiley on his thigh and duh the x smiley face too on his arm
favourite louis bodypart? (c'mon we all have one!)
big heart big brain big ass, the holy trinity. and actually also his hands,, and waist.... and. thighs yum...... and. ok im stopping here
thanks again for tagging me <3
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acircusfullofdemons · 2 years ago
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PARAMAY DAY 13 (CREATION)
*inhales* oh boy, here we go…
Claypso was created on January 12, 2018, the day/day after I had seen the movie “The Greatest Showman”. It Unlocked something in my brain because the MOMENT I got home I pulled up Pinterest & started looking for inspo to make a Cool New ~*Self Insert OC*~. I can't really remember my exact thought process (who knows wtf 14yo Luka was on) BUT I do know I specifically made Calypso to represent "me". I would then joke for the next 2ish years on how, despite this, I made Calypso a boy when I identified as a Cis Girl. Idk I just find that fact so funny now that I’m nonbinary. (In the same vein, I also made him confident/proud of his bisexuality when I still had no clue if I was bi or not. We love projecting onto our own ocs/paras <3).
Calypso is the parame I remember actively making, thinking, "this Character is me but runs a circus" (I had just seen The Greatest Showman so inspo was strong there lol). Which is funny, because if you look at Cali, then look at me, I don't think you'd think/realize that?? His personality is very much…the opposite of mine lol. I am not a super cool extrovert that has multiple friend groups and goes on odd adventures. I’m on tumblr participating in a month-long oc challenge. Clearly something went wrong /j.
Uh. I made him at a time when I was questioning if I was Bi or not (I mean i was a freshman/starting highschool. Do any of us know who we truly are then?) so I kinda projected that into him??? In all honesty I feel like he should fall somewhere on the aro spectrum as well, since I'm aro & that's important to me, but I want it to evolve naturally if it at all happens so I won't entertain the idea just yet.
Funny enough, homeboy has always been a homeboy. Er, what I mean by that is, even tho I made him based off of me/representing me, having him be a (cis) male was one of my first decisions for him. At the time I wasn't 100% sure why, maybe I was influenced by the movie, which had Hugh Jackman star/play as PT Barnum, both males. But uh *looks @ nonbinary flag* I think there's a reason why now. Also part of the reason he's so feminine / """girly""" I guess. Tbh I probably projected into him a lot more than I realize (coughdaddyissuescough) but he is my parame & started out as a paraself, so it's fair.
Oh wow I haven’t even gotten into the original version of his story yet. It’s honestly not that different from how it is now, with a few minor differences. Originally, he was just the circus’ ringleader and died trying to save Clairette from a lion attack. The time loop was because he was the son of Persephone and Morpheus (yes..the greek gods…they were a thing in this once) so I think Persephone allowed him to be a Poltergeist?? OH and Macbeth was his half brother which made their relationship kind of sad because Cali genuinely wanted a sibling relationship but Macbeth just wanted him dead (Macbeth is a Reaper and his job is to collect Souls Cali is literally a lost soul do u see the problem here).
The VR stuff was always canon (except for that brief period of time where I got insecure and it wasn’t and everything was just their normal life which made things less confusing but also there was literally no plot lmao). Idk what else to say uhm fun facts: 
His default playlist is a little over 8hrs long and is currently the longest playlist I have on Spotify (that I listen to. My instrumental playlist is a little longer but tbh I rarely touch it).
He used to have gold eyes. They were quickly changed to blue and got shifted into the turquoise they are now! In addition to that, his first design used to have him wearing an actual ringleader outfit. He also used to have black hair, then light purple, and finally the dark purple it is now. In total he’s been through roughly 7-8 redesigns.
Cali is combined with a previous character, Anthony Morningstar. Anthony was inspired by Pride!Roman (an AU of Roman Sanders from the webseries “Sanders Sides”) and is the reason Calypso is now a prince! I scrapped Anthony because I had no idea what to do with his character and felt like him & Cali were too similar to really justify them being different people.
The tarot cards that represent him are “The Magician” and “Page of Wands”.
“A Million Dreams” from The Greatest Showman is his theme song.
....this is all probably Too Much. hm. have the first drawing of Cali I ever did (it is from 2018 😞)
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theinternetisfulloftrash · 2 years ago
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I posted 1,514 times in 2022
That's 235 more posts than 2021!
958 posts created (63%)
556 posts reblogged (37%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@onlydylanobrien
@dylan-rhodesobrien
@dobshands
@dobrienwrites
@7thleveldown
I tagged 1,513 of my posts in 2022
#ask - 731 posts
#dylan o'brien - 682 posts
#anon - 469 posts
#anon ask - 464 posts
#not dylan - 175 posts
#dylan o'brien imagine - 174 posts
#personal - 167 posts
#;) - 136 posts
#thirsty anons are thirsty - 121 posts
#dylan in the wild - 118 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#i don't think i could have coped with the last month if he wasn't there to help me forget about it for a while often enough to keep me sane
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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Dylan O'Brien as Richie Boyle in 'The Outfit'
373 notes - Posted April 9, 2022
#4
Omg so excited, I love your writing!! What about “shh. there’s people in the other room.” with Stiles?? He’s such a little shit, you know he’d be down for some semi-public shenanigans lol
I've never written Stiles beforeeee!
I'm kind of excited to give it a go! I know his vibes and he's always been one of my favorite characters. This kind of behaviour is totally in-keeping with his nonsense ;)
Prompt list HERE
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Thank My Caffeine Addiction
You hated that this stupid stranger had managed to turn you into a simpering idiot. This never happened. How many thousand people had you served coffee to over the years? How many cute guys had tried to get your number? More than you could fucking count, and yet here this dark-haired boy in his white button-up and black slacks was standing on the other side of the counter making you feel like English was your 15th language.
He dug his wallet out of his pocket while you gathered yourself enough to even ask him for his order.
"What can I get you?" you asked, clearing your throat.
"Anything with enough caffeine to put down a horse," he said, his eyes bugging a bit as he pulled a few bills.
You laughed and when he looked up at you, he smiled. "Little early for a red eye, but..."
"What's in that?" he asked, tapping the bills in his hand on the counter.
"It's uh..." Your gaze flicked down to his hand and you swallowed. He had to have nice hands. Just had to. "Coffee with an espresso shot in it." It had been nearly two weeks he'd been coming in here for coffee every morning and it seemed like every time you found something new and annoyingly attractive about him.
"That's a start," he said with a sweet smile.
"Venti?" you ask, typing his order into the computer
"If that's the biggest one, then yes," he let out a little laugh.
You shook your head and complete his order, pausing when the prompt enter his name popped up. You knew it. Of course you did. It was one of those annoying attractive things. Unusual and intruiging. But you didn't want him to think you were some kind of a creep for remembering it.
"Name?" you asked, not able to look up at him.
"Stiles."
You finalized the order and he handed you the money before you have a chance to read out the total. He's smiled at you, holding onto the bills when you tried to take them.
"What's yours?"
The lights from the glass pastry display lit his features, making his brown eyes look like sweet honey.
"Huh?"
"Your name?" he said, his tongue quickly darting out to wet his lips.
Shit. Your name. That's easy. Just say it. Say your name. This was taking so long you were sure the second-hand awkwardness was wearing off on the person in line behind him.
Your co-worker stepped up behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder, and said it. Oh, God. This was making the whole thing feel like fodder for one of those stories you tell about how you made yourself look like a complete ass in front of a hot guy.
"Nice to meet you. Officially...anyway." His brows were knit the tiniest bit before he tipped his head and smiled.
You felt that heat rush to your cheeks and cursed it because you were sure he'd be able to tell you were blushing. This entire interaction was making you feel like you did when you were 12 years old and Camden Peters had invited you to his birthday party.
"Why don't you make his order while I take the next one?" Your coworker wasn't blind. He'd been picking at you for just about as long as Stiles had been coming in. This was an attack, but you couldn't very well do anything about it right now, so you agreed and sidestepped the til, grabbing a large cup and writing his name on it.
Stiles moved along the counter with you, waiting patiently as you poured his coffee, pressed some espresso beans into the portafilter and locked it in place.
You looked up to see him staring at you before he quickly looked away toward the windows. "Nice day," he said.
See the full post
394 notes - Posted February 7, 2022
#3
❛ you can be rough. i can take it. ❜ -For Stiles, but he can't really take it. . :p
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Another doubled-up request! ;)
Looks like you two are on the same wavelength. I will do my best with this, but you know I'm probably just going to twist it around and not give you what you were really lookin' for ;)
Authors Note: Smutty little number between Stiles and a non-gender-specific reader. Writing smut that's both satisfying and generic enough to read as any reader was challenging and actually a lot of fun :)
Prompt list HERE
See the full post
429 notes - Posted February 18, 2022
#2
Collision Course Coachella
Pairing: Dylan O'Brien x Reader (Female) Synopsis: The last person you expect to see dancing his way around the Coachella venue right in front of you is Dylan O'Brien, but sometimes the universe just puts you in the right place at the right time. Tags: Coachella, Dancing, Semi-Public Sex, Slow-Burn, Protected and Unprotected sex (this is fantasy...be safe) Rating: Explicit (obviously) Author's Note: You wanted it, I stayed up all night to give it to ya ;) It's juicy, and I've decided to turn it into a limited series due to popular demand! A three-part saga of the weekend the reader and Dylan spend together at Coachella 2022. Index: Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3
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Day 1: Colliding (Reader POV)
There’s no fucking shot that’s Dylan O’Brien? Not a chance. There’s no way? Holy shit. Holy shit, wait. It is . It fucking is! You couldn’t help the blush that immediately flooded your cheeks when the realization set in entirely. 
He was walking with friends through a concession area when he started dancing to Run the Jewels that was blasting from the Mojave stage nearby, as his friends laughed and recorded him. His shirt was entirely unbuttoned and somehow the fact that it was lazily hanging from his body was more sinful looking than if he’d actually been shirtless. 
You were honestly trying not to stare, but to be fair? He was making a bit of a spectacle of himself, so you felt you were well within your rights as a human to be ogling. You weren’t the only one watching him, but you might have been the only one to recognize him. 
He spun around a final time and laughed, clapping his friend on the back as they headed off toward the cantina and beer barn. 
You smiled to yourself. A celebrity sighting while you were on a bathroom run. What a fun story to tell your friends when you made it back to the Gobi stage. You were checking out TOKiMONSTA before heading to the main stage for the rest of the evening. You looked over your shoulder one last time at Dylan and his group of friends before you headed back to meet up with your own. 
“Where the hell have you been?” your friend yelled at you as she bobbed along to the music when you finally make it back to her. “I thought you just had to pee? Did you get lost?” 
“Relax!” you yelled back, unamused. “I got…distracted,” you said, waving your arms dismissively before you tucked yourself in next to your friend. 
“What?” 
“I’ll text you!” you said, gesturing to your phone. You looked down at the screen and opened your message history with her and typed out a brief synopsis of the events of the last fifteen minutes. You watched her eyes bug out of her head before she looked up at you. 
You pressed your lips together and raised your brows before you nodded. 
“No way! No! Where!?” 
You pointed to your phone and sent another message. It was easier than burning through your voice and yelling over the music.
You: He was just vibing with friends? Over by beer barn. 
Her: We’re going. Now. 
“No!” you yelled at her and then looked back down at your phone.
You: Absolutely fucking not. I’m not gonna be one of those weirdos. He did look fucking hot though. 
Her: I bet. I’m fucking mad. I’ve never been more disappointed in my bladder. 
You: Next time don’t tell me to find it myself. 
She looked up at you and rolled her eyes before she flipped you off. 
Continue Reading on AO3!
Much love everyone! I hope I don't let anyone down. I know this shit was in high demand. It's 10 AM and I haven't slept, but the Coachella smut now exists in the world. Be a dear and let me know if you liked it (or didn't, honestly). Feedback, that's all I'm askin' for. This thing was a labour of insanity, and your feedback always makes it worth it :) -Trashy xoxox
616 notes - Posted April 24, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
AH 🤍 could you do ❛ you can kiss me, you know.❜ with stiles pleaseeeeee?
This sounds so sweet!
I don't know how smutty this will end up being, but I have very little control when I get writing, it just kinda happens. Let's see what goes down, huh?
Author's Note: Malia who? You'd moved in across the street from Stiles and his father in sophomore year, and you could never really put your finger on what was going on with him and his friends, but it hadn't stopped you from falling pretty hard for the chaotic, doe-eyed boy next door ;)
Prompt list HERE
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His Anchor
Was this really happening? Everything felt like it was falling apart. The whole pack was a mess and the last person he expected to make him feel like a fuck up was Scott, but sitting here now, soaked down to his underwear—his windshield smashed to pieces—that was his reality.
It was never easy being ordinary among the extraordinary. Stiles had always tried to contribute what he could, and he'd grown to believe he was valued and useful—more than useful—so it was hard feeling like his best friend didn't seem to understand his sacrifices, how hard it was to feel adequate, how important it was to him to be what everyone needed, what everyone wanted. The pressure was so immense sometimes that he'd lay down to sleep and the sun would come shining in through the windows without him catching a wink. Adderall was a crutch he leaned on so hard it was bound to snap any minute. He felt like he was being held together by a fraying thread.
He was sitting there—water dripping from his sleeves—when his phone vibrated in the seat next to him. The screen lit, displaying your name. Stiles picked it up but didn't answer. He let it ring in his hand until the screen went black. He wasn't sure he was ready to talk to anyone, even you. You were this part of his life that was untainted. You weren't a part of the mess. You were his escape. His anchor. If he answered the phone right now, he'd be blurring the lines.
No one in the pack really knew how close he'd gotten to you. He wanted to protect you from all that. He texted you in the middle of the night after one bullshit werewolf-related catastrophe or another, and you always answered. You were there to slide open your bedroom window and let him in. It was innocent enough in the beginning. Just friends. Just talking. Until one night a couple of weeks ago when he showed up in a torn shirt with a split lip. He tried to explain it away as clumsiness, a lacrosse incident, but you didn't buy it. You'd used a damp cloth to help clean his wound and he'd been so impulsively stupid that he thought that soft way you were looking at him was some kind of invitation, and he'd almost kissed you.
It had been different since then. He'd felt so stupid when he'd seen how shocked you looked, how you'd pulled back. Ever since, he'd avoided talking to you about it, despite the few times you'd tried. He hadn't climbed up the side of your back porch to your window since. But right now—with everything falling apart the way it was—he wished you were here, wished things were different, wished he could tell you who he really was.
His phone rang again. It was you. He wet his lips with his tongue, drumming his fingers against his phone, his forearms resting on the steering wheel. On the last ring, he swiped to answer.
"Hello?" he said, his voice trembling. He shouldn't have answered.
"Stiles?" There was a brief pause. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah..." he lied, looking out through the shattered glass at the flickering streetlight above him, "everything's fine."
There was dead air on the line for a few moments before you spoke again. "Bullshit, Stilinski."
Stiles, pulled in a short breath and gripped the wheel tight in his palms. "It's nothing."
"It's not."
"Can we just drop— Can we just talk about something else?" he pleaded, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Okay," you quickly agreed. "You wanna talk about that night then?"
"God no!"
"Well..." you paused, "it's gotta be one or the other, because I'm tired of you freezing me out like this."
Stiles flopped back in the driver seat, letting his shoulders relax as he picked at the chapped skin of his lower lip with his teeth.
"Talk to me..."
You had no idea how badly he wanted just that. He wanted to let you in, he just didn't know that if he did he could keep you safe. But he was a master of vaguery at this point, so he'd try to figure out how to explain without spilling the 'creatures of the night live among you' specifics.
"Everything... everything is falling apart..." You were quiet, so he continued. "You ever have those dreams where you lose control of the car you're driving? Like you can't steer it anymore no matter what you do?"
"Uh...I have, yeah."
"Well," Stiles let his head fall back against the headrest, "it feels like that, except I'm awake.... Don't think I could sleep if I wanted to..."
There was a long pause, but he could hear you breathing.
"You there?"
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1,076 notes - Posted February 15, 2022
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sylv-e-on · 5 months ago
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Oh. Oh No. Welp, I'm gonna do this (all under the cut lol)
1: I can't remember, but I THINK it was my old FNaF OC, Fangle? (Not based on original Foxy at all, only Mangle, Lolbit, and Funtime Foxy lol-)
2: Yep! It'd either be Starfall, Spark, or Foxclaw
3: Yeah lol- many! Can't name em all lol
4: Jean, Wren, and Robyn lol. Two boys and their mom
5: Rose, 100%. She's been with me since 2020 and is my wonderful lesbian girlboss <3
6: I don't really have any like that, but I do have two who are alike name-wise but aren't related: Night and Light lmao-
7: YES. All of the ones I've named except for like Strawberry are all in either my novel I need to write, my fanfic I need to write, or one of my RPs that I've been expanding on!
8: Yep! One of them would be Carrion; sentient killer robot who doesn't want to kill actual people go brrrr
9: Any I'm not that invested in, yes! It'd probably be like a background character or a character I don't care much for tho, lol- like Bubbles (who's kinda been forgotten about-)
10: Oh god- probably like, Tiks or Eli or their still unnamed brother- they have some Complicated designs lol
11: Exry <3 my daughter (who I totally won't kill off)
12: *Insert all of my partners OCs*
13: SPARK. You weren't meant to be that important to me but you are now!
14: Oh god where do I begin- Rose was a living science experiment, Pollux and Castor were both orphaned at a young age because of how they were born, everyone who went to VA all have so much trauma-
15: YES. I've literally ranted about the mythology before to my partner lol
16: I have no idea! Probably Delta, or Rose
17: Rose x Exry, Carrion x Sunny, Delta x Tiks
18: Faetrix x Trash (all my homies HATE Faetrix‼️)
19: Rose. She's one of the OCs I've cared for the longest, and kick-started this entire thing
20: I like to think that Delta would sing to the Shadowlings after Rose died, especially to Shade. Idk how they'd sound, tho-
21: Kia! Totally isn't a self-insert (they are)
22: So far, no! I don't post much about my OCs lol
23: Rose again! Was originally a FNaF Security Guard OC, and now she's getting a whole novel for a world I made for her
24: Starfall! I wanna give them a hug (and a knife)
25: In looks, Rose- in personality and everything else, Kia (because I kinda AM Kia!)
26: Nope! And I'm happy to keep it like that =]
27: I used to have this one OC who I can't remember the name of BUT she was based off of that one song- it was uhh. iNSaNiTY by CircusP? Good song, terrible OC
28: Faetrix. He just won't die
29: Night or Glitz. They did do that. Idiot gays
30: Max, he does have one-
31: Rose would reblog memes from Twitter I just know she would
32: Bro I have no idea ngl- maybe like, Delta? That dude just can escape Anything-
33: I CAN'T REMEMBER HIS NAME UHHH- his name was something like... Exera or something
34: Yes. Wren and Robyn, Castor and Pollux, CC and Jade, Light and Rain...
35: Yep. Xelqin and Ex, Delta and Achro and all of Phoenix's other kids, Foxclaw and Sparrowfeather, Stormspark and Rainmoon and Cloudfall...
36: I genuinely have no idea what this means
37: Ooo uh- how about my girl Cloudfall =3 pale grey and white tabby warriors OC with daddy issues (her dad Ashcloud abandoned her, her siblings Stormspark and Rainmoon, and her mother River)
38: Delta or Spark! The two mainly do it in their spare time lol
39: Rose is a science experiment that made Catgirls real lol- she has red hair, darkish skin, and green eyes =3 her tail also has like. A random band of black on it-
40: When me and one of my friends were originally writing UATW, we decided on having a throw away character named Bubbles. Idk why myself
41: Nope!
42: Probably Delta lol- she would honestly compare his dad to Zeus and that is not a good thing
43: They all prefer cats over dogs except for like. Night and Alex
44: That I can project all of my problems on them =]
45: Fangle- I haven't forgotten her but my gods. She is OLD and I will never use her again
46: No =]
47: I think the same friend in 40 might've? I don't think so though-
48: River =3 my girl has gone through Too Much just let her kill her ex husband (I control her entire story)
49: Rose
50: Rose used to be a FNaF Security Guard OC and now she's the reason I learnt I enjoy writing, she is very near and dear to my heart
Some OC questions
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misc-obeyme · 2 months ago
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unchained - chapter fourteen
masterpost read the chapter on ao3
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recommended music: At This Point In My Life by Tracy Chapman word count: 3459
GN!MC x Arsenios [demon OC] a/n: Just Arrie being a silly guy as usual. I don't even remember what that background is from but it came from the OM wiki, so close enough lol. Warnings: just some cringey angst I guess but nothing really
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Slightly outside of the main city, there was a narrow tree-lined lane leading up to a massive wrought iron gate that was rarely ever closed. It led up to a set of black double doors. They were enormous with bat heads holding rings in their mouths as door knockers. They were the entrance to a mansion, almost a small castle, with its turrets and towers, leaded windows, and covered in vines.
Inside, there was a grand foyer decorated in an old school Gothic style. An unsettling amount of skeletal statues lined the walls, most of them belonging to various Devildom creatures. Two staircases with wrought iron railings shaped like roses led up to a balcony and an enormous stained glass window. Beneath this, a large arched entrance into a grand hall that was meant for great parties.
The hall long and tall, with windows along the walls on either side, letting in light from the Devildom moon and stars. The floors were black tile and the ceilings were covered in murals of Devildom flowers. In one corner of the hall, there was a sitting area, completely with chairs and cushions all in black, as well as tables and several shelves crammed with books. Everywhere the hall was dotted with dramatic candelabras full of flickering flames, but there were also several lamps illuminating the space.
In another corner of this enormous room, several instruments were set up. A drum set, a piano, guitars, and various others that were normally neatly packed away.
Arsenios was already at the piano and his bandmates had been attempting to focus on the practice session for some time. However, he couldn't stop thinking about that cursed cupcake and his lack of focus was immediately apparent to everyone present.
Liviana tapped dolefully at the cymbals of her drum kit, knowing Arsenios wouldn't notice that she wasn't playing anything correctly.
Lael seemed to be maintaining his bass line well, but he kept sneaking glances at Arsenios when he thought nobody was paying attention.
Chymion was the only one blatantly giving Arsenios weird looks.
Chymion had been with the band the longest. He had founded it with Arsenios and Abraxas originally. He was in his most human-looking form, which was still complete with claws and hooves and wings. Chymion's grey feathered wings were tucked against his back. His lower half was mostly goat, the hooves themselves gold tipped, which apparently he maintained himself. His hands were almost always in claw mode - his fingers turning black at the ends and sharp as hell. They morphed into more blunt digits when he needed them to play instruments.
Chymion's skin was dark grey, his black hair shoulder length. He had a plethora of piercings, including a septum ring and a tongue piercing. His most unusual feature, though, were his eyes. They had pupils like a goat's and were dark green.
Today Chymion was wearing his usual attire - a sort of short sleeveless robe that ended just above his goat like knees, letting his goat legs be free. It was a beautiful navy blue today, edged with gold that matched his hooves.
His fingers were normal at the moment as he was holding a violin. Every once in a while, he'd stop playing just to look at Arsenios meaningfully.
Eventually, Arsenios stood up from the piano he was sitting at and sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking around at his bandmates.
"Well?" he asked. "What is it?"
Lael blinked. "What? Nothing, right guys?" He looked around at Liviana and Chymion.
Liviana sighed and slumped across her drums. "Don't even bother to pretend, Lael," she said. "He's making us all crazy and he knows it."
"I can tell you guys are concerned," Arsenios said, leaning against the side of the piano and folding his arms. "But I don't know what you're concerned about."
Chymion snorted. "C'mon, man. You can't focus at all. And that's the weirdest thing ever because you never lose focus when it comes to music. Somethin's bothering you, so why don't you just tell us what it is? Maybe we can help."
"Doubtful," Liviana said drolly.
Arsenios considered them for a moment with frown before shaking his head. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Can we get back to work?"
The others exchanged glances, but they didn't push him.
After only twenty or so minutes, Arsenios found himself playing the entirely wrong song halfway through practicing.
He swore.
"Can we please take five?" Liviana asked. "I'm so thirsty I could die and this lovesick idiot thinks we don't know what's actually going on with him."
Arsenios's fingers flattened against the keys, causing the piano to let out a sad mangle of notes.
"Livi is right," Lael said, putting down his bass. "I'm thirsty, too. Don't we have some devil crush super spicy mango juice around here somewhere?"
Liviana got up from her drum set and kicked a small fridge behind her drums, causing the door to swing open. It was fully stocked with devil crush super spicy mango juice. "You know I keep this thing full," she said, taking one out and tossing it to Lael. He caught it before handing it over to Chymion.
Chymion put down his violin and opened the can by shoving a claw into the top.
"You know you can just use the tab like a normal demon," Lael said, opening his own can and taking a small sip.
Chymion chugged half the can before responding. "Claws are more fun."
Arsenios sighed, but accepted the can Liviana passed to him.
"Have you considered that talking about this issue might help?" Liviana asked, leaning on the other side of the piano and opening her own drink. "If you get it out of your head, maybe you'll be able to focus again."
"Maybe," Arsenios said. "But that would require me to talk about it. You see the problem?"
Liviana rolled her eyes. "You don't have to get too into the details. It's not like we don't already know it has something to do with MC."
Arsenios remembered the use of the word lovesick and thought he might actually be sick. He made a face.
Lael sat at the piano and laughed at the expression on Arsenios's face. "I mean, it wasn't hard to figure out."
"Yeah," Liviana said. "We already knew something was going on, but they showed up at the library just to ask about you. That would've tipped us off."
Arsenios groaned slightly. "I wish they hadn't done that."
Liviana laughed. "Oh because now we have an excuse to call you out? They're worried about you. They wanted to know how to help you with this whole Caligo thing. And whatever happened between you recently, you're starting to realize they mean a lot more to you than you ever expected. Isn't that right?"
Arsenios stared at Liviana. The silence in the hall was heavy until Arsenios finally looked down at his hands, unable to confirm or deny.
Chymion tossed his empty can in the trash and sidled up to Arsenios, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "I wasn't even there for the human encounter, but I can still tell that Liviana is right. You're down bad, man. That human's got your heart. You do realize that, don't ya?"
Arsenios looked at Chymion. His goat-like eyes sparkled. Arsenios looked at Lael, who was smiling gently. And lastly at Liviana, who seemed like she was only waiting for his confirmation.
Arsenios sighed. "Yeah. I know. I just didn't want to admit it to myself."
"And now that you have, what're you gonna do?" Chymion asked.
Arsenios considered the question. This was everything he was afraid of, but worse. His mind flooded with you.
The way you held his hand in the garden, the kiss you shared among the trees and flowers. How you grabbed his fist to stop him from punching Lucifer. How he responded to your touch immediately. The feeling of his tail around your ankle, his hand on your waist.
The feeling of your lips on his, your desperate grip, in the dim light of his apartment. The way you had pulled him by his harness to your room.
Beneath all of this, the song that wouldn't leave him alone, the song that played through every thought of you.
It was your song that plagued him the most.
"I have to deal with Caligo," Arsenios said.
Liviana sighed. "You have completely missed the point of this discussion."
"Really, I didn't think it was possible," Lael agreed.
"Are you sure that's your first priority?" Chymion asked.
Arsenios looked around at them. "I'm sorry, guys. Can we reschedule practice? I've just realized there's a lot I still need to do."
Although there was a significant amount of protesting, the others agreed. Arsenios saw the looks of concern they gave each other as he left.
Arsenios knew what they wanted. They wanted him to tell you the truth.
But he couldn't.
There was no way he could do that. Because beneath that blooming feeling of sweetness was the deepest, heaviest fear he'd ever known. His hands throbbed with phantom pain the entire way back to his apartment.
-
Arsenios made it inside his building in a daze. He only managed to let himself into his apartment through muscle memory, his mind completely consumed.
When the door was closed, he pressed his back against it and slid to the floor, covering his face with his hands.
For a moment, everything whirled inside him and then it all went still.
A single second of clarity, like a tense violin string waiting to be plucked, hit him so hard it took his breath away.
This was the first time he felt like he belonged to a human without a pact.
A note sang through the air, like his magic couldn't help but respond to that revelation. And everything else flooded back in.
Arsenios let his head fall against the wooden door behind him, his hands falling into his lap.
He didn't really need Chymion to tell him. He already knew he was in love with you.
And suddenly he was in demon form. It wasn't like him to let it come out so frequently. But something about this situation made him feel that he needed to retreat into himself. Being in his demon form was comforting.
His tail wrapped around his legs, curling behind his back, still in its braid. He had to move his head forward to prevent his horns from banging against the door behind him.
Arsenios sighed and tugged at the chain across his chest.
It was his own fault and he knew it.
How many times had he approached you, asked you to dance, asked you to a performance, sang to you over the phone, brought you back to his apartment, kissed you.
Those were all things he had done, despite knowing that he was already too close to emotions he couldn't handle.
In his heart was nothing but dissonance. The music was riotous, out of tune, faulty.
He couldn't concentrate and it swirled hard and fast in his heart and in his mind. This was why he had to abandon band practice. Sure, he did have to take care of Caligo. But he needed to do something about the song that wouldn't leave his head first. This new song that wasn't yours, but something else. Something that he'd held inside of him for so long that he had somehow convinced himself it wasn't there.
Arsenios pulled himself to his feet and stumbled to his piano. He sat down so heavily, sheet music slid off of it and fell to the floor.
He had to play, he had to sing, he had to pull the notes out of himself like he was cutting out his feelings and turning them into something that mattered, something that didn't hurt.
Because how could he ever tell you the truth?
You deserved far better than the likes of him. He knew he was broken, he knew he couldn't treat you the way you should be treated. He would always have that fear, would always feel that phantom throbbing in his hands. He would always have that endless melancholy, the perpetual loneliness.
In the end, wouldn't he do to you what he has always done to anyone who brought his heart this close to that all consuming feeling he'd spent so much time trying to avoid?
In the end, wouldn't he push you away?
He tried to. He wanted to. Every time he told himself he would leave you alone and every time he found himself by your side again. What was it about you? What was so special about a little human like you?
Arsenios looked out the window of his apartment as his fingers moved across the piano keys. It began to rain.
His hands fell into a familiar chord progression. One that seemed to play through even his own dreams. But the song he needed now wasn't yours. It was his. The key changed. The progression shifted. And even if the song was about you, it was about him, too. It was everything he couldn't say.
The lyrics lilted through his mind, fitting themselves perfectly to the melody that arose out of the chords. He considered allowing the piano work to get complicated, to muddle the truth of the song's message with fancy finger work. But instead, he kept it simple. He didn't even vary the progression, letting himself follow the starting D minor where it would lead him.
Words about you, about what he saw when he looked at you. About how you had changed something so fundamental inside of him that he no longer felt like he knew who he was.
How long had he been guarding himself? How long had he let himself be chained, a prison of his own making?
And what did it mean for that to break away? What did it mean that he was willing to set everything in him free if it meant being with you?
Arsenios sat at the piano for hours, finding those notes, discovering that melody, forming those lyrics, the ones he had been holding for too long.
Eventually, the notes faded as Arsenios's hands dropped into his lap. He stared down at the piano keys.
"Why can't I walk away? Why can't I push you away like I do everyone else?" he asked the empty air.
With a heavy sigh, Arsenios stood up from the piano bench. He shifted out of his demon form, taking a deep breath as he did so. He picked up the scattered sheet music.
Arsenios went to a small desk beside the piano. He sat down, pulled out a pad of blank music paper and a fountain pen. Then he began to write furiously, watching all the notes form along the preprinted staffs. He held the song he'd discovered in his mind, drawing it intricately out in a dark purple ink.
This new song, a combination of both you and him, immersed his mind, body, and soul. He would not rise from that music for days.
-
Some days after the incident with Lucifer, you went to Arsenios's apartment after school. You had noticed his absence and considering what had happened, you didn't feel that you could just leave it.
You stood in front of the red door for a moment, feeling somewhat uncertain. You hadn't heard from Arsenios since he had left the House of Lamentation. You were worried about him. He hadn't been at RAD for several days. You had gone to the library to ask Liviana about it, but she just shrugged and said he was working through some things. You couldn't help but wonder if this had to do with Caligo.
You took a breath and knocked on the door.
A long moment of silence stretched out. You considered knocking on the door again. Maybe he wasn't home?
Just as you were about to try knocking again, the door opened.
Arsenios looked out at you from the darkness. His hair was loose and disheveled, falling around his shoulders haphazardly. He had stubble on his chin and circles beneath his eyes. He wasn't wearing a shirt, only a baggy pair of pajama pants. He blinked at you, like the light of the hallway was too much for him.
"MC, why are you here?" he asked.
"Why do you look like you haven't slept in days?" you replied.
Arsenios ran a hand through his hair, which only messed it up even more. "If you're only here to comment on how awful I look-"
He was interrupted by a loud meow from behind him.
You startled. Was this when you would finally meet Abby?
Arsenios sighed as the small black cat walked out into the hallway, rubbing against his ankle as she passed him.
She paused at your feet, looked up at you with bright golden eyes, and meowed.
You knelt down and put your hand near her nose, which she promptly butted her head into.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Abby," you said.
"I guess she decided this was worth getting out of the pile of laundry," Arsenios said.
The cat pressed her head into your hand, clearly enjoying the attention. "Is this guy taking care of you? Because he's clearly not taking care of himself right now."
Abby meowed and trotted back over to Arsenios's feet where she paused to look back at you.
You stood straight again and folded your arms, giving Arsenios a pointed look.
Arsenios groaned and rubbed his face with his hand. "I really don't need you two ganging up on me like this."
"I just wanted to check on you," you said. "You've been missing school."
Arsenios wouldn't look at you, his eyes now on Abby still at his feet. "I'm trying to figure out exactly where Caligo is."
"About that-" you started to say, but Arsenios interrupted you.
He looked up sharply and finally met your eyes. "You're not coming with me, MC."
You held up your hands. "Okay, I get it. I get that you're trying to be protective. But he wants to hurt you, likely kill you. And you're just going to go take yourself right to him? Without backup? I'm stronger than you give me credit for."
Arsenios shook his head. "It isn't about your strength," he said. "It's about the distraction you would be."
You cocked your head a little, confused. "Distraction?"
"I need to be able to focus," Arsenios said. "If I don't, I lose control of the music and it only responds to my feelings. That won't be very helpful against Caligo."
You considered him for a moment. He wasn't looking at you again. His posture was casual, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. But there was something tense about him, something evident in the way he couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long.
"Are you all right?" you asked, softly.
Arsenios was so surprised by this question that he looked at you directly. "Fine. Why do you ask?"
You sighed and tugged on the sleeves of your RAD uniform. "You keep looking away from me."
There was a moment of silence during which you were the one looking away.
And then you felt him come closer to you. His fingers took hold of your chin so he could turn your face to look at him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "But I think it's better if we stay apart for now. It's too dangerous for you to be around me."
His words felt like a spike through your chest. You had a feeling he was going to say something along those lines. He was on edge, he wasn't taking care of himself, and he was gearing up to face someone he had some kind of terrible past with. You thought about Gabriel. Arsenios didn't even know who had saved him that day. But you did.
"Was Caligo the one who broke your hands?" you asked.
Arsenios frowned, dropped his hand, and took a step back from you. "No," he said. "I don't know how you know about that at all, but it wasn't him. It was a sorcerer and he's been dead for a long time. Anyway, I'll find you again when I've taken care of Caligo."
"Arrie-" you began as he started to close the door.
He paused with his back to you. His tattoo was still there, though the music notes were missing which told you that they were exclusive to his demon form. He looked over his shoulder through the still slightly open door. "Goodbye, MC."
The door closed and the sound of it echoed through your heart.
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masterpost | chapter thirteen and a half | chapter fifteen
taglist: @avalordream @lonely-north-star @expressionless-fr @featheredcrowbones @pumpkinsareamazing
@szired @bagofwetmice @ashley675901
as always, please comment or dm me if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!
masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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yongislong · 2 years ago
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[ ncity playlist event ]
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now playing ... PARK JISUNG
good looking - suki waterhouse
jars of it - steve lacy
stockholm syndrome - one direction
disconnected - 5sos
it all feels right - washed out
thats on me - mac miller
wasteland baby! - hozier
i bet on losing dogs - mitski
crybaby - the neighborhood
close to you - dayglow
now viewing ... // dreaded test day. something you and your seat parter always hated. it wasn't common to have seat mates in university but you're glad your world literature professor made you both sit next to each other for the don quixote readings
however... now he has an undeniable crush on you. even the other kids in the class can see how sad he looked that week you missed class because you had the flu he brought a plushie and different boxes of flavored tea to your dorm
now here you both sat, cramming for the lit final in the schools 24 hour library... at 3 am. lol. you notice though how incredibly jittery and smiley he seems, a stark contrast from the purple eye-bags littering his aegyosals
the session began with catching up on the chapters in quiet silence until he moves his chair next to yours, tucking a bit of your hair behind your left ear as he slides his earbud in. you adjust it, looking over at him nervously with a tight lipped smile, he grins, scratching the back of his neck
you noticed how close his chair began getting to you, feeling his warmth radiating off of his black zip-up. you also noticed how every time he believed you were immersed in your book, he pretended to look something up on his computer, when in reality he was checking himself out on his mac's photo booth lol. he eventually sees himself out to the bathroom with a poke on your arm
"im gonna go wiz, my password is 7dream incase you want to change the song y/n" he says with a soft smile.
"just say pee sung... weirdo" you mutter through a giggle as he walks away. he actually didn't have to pee he just had to relax because he was shaking so much, he was punching the air and shit trying to hype himself up pls
once he leaves, you decide to sneak a couple silly selfies on his phone, until a song you didn't recognize blasted through the earbuds
you wrinkled your nose and typed his password in, clicking on the spoitfy icon to rake through his playlist for something better. what you did not expect, was a very, very long playlist titled campus crush, with a picture... a picture of you, asleep in world literature. you remember this day. jisung seemed shyer than usual when you woke up. now you know why
you can't wait to tease him for it when he returns, pulling him in from his collar for a kiss when he gets close to check what page you're on //
IM BAACK LMAOOO omg i forgot how much i loved doing these. i'll try and finish this series soon but tbh its so hard! hope you all enjoy though. i always write so much for these gah i think this is my longest one yet, lmk what you think, reqs open!! this is not proofread lol
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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago
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Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞
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Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader
Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else
Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?
Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?
A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.
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On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.
He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.
Jungkook had made it.
Well, not quite.
Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.
"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.
And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.
"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.
"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.
"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.
Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.
You were so tiny next to him.
He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.
You were so cute.
You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.
"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.
"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.
If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.
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You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.
"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.
"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.
"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.
"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.
"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.
Jungkook really pays attention.
"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.
"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.
"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.
Not the time Y/N, not the time.
"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.
"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.
You don't know what to say.
He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.
When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.
He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.
"Good girl."
It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.
"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.
"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-
"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.
"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"
"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.
And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.
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It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.
Things are different between you two in general.
After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.
And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.
It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.
"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.
"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.
"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.
"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.
"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.
"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.
"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.
Almost.
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"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.
"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.
"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.
"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.
He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.
"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.
"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.
"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.
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It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.
You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.
He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.
"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.
"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.
"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.
He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.
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Jungkook is frustrated.
He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.
And not just hugging and holding hands.
It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.
As far as he knows, he had done everything right.
But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.
'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.
'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.
'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.
But its your answer that makes him fume.
'Good to know.'
"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.
"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.
"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.
"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.
"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.
"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.
'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'
"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.
"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.
In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.
"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.
"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.
"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.
"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.
Thank god you're staying the night.
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"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.
"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.
He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.
Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.
He's anything but.
He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.
There's no urgency in anything he does.
He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.
"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.
"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.
"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.
What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.
Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.
"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.
"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.
Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.
"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.
"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.
"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.
"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.
"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.
"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.
"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.
"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.
"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.
Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.
"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."
And he can't help but grin at you.
You really are the sweetest thing.
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You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.
"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.
"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.
"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.
"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.
Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.
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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago
Text
not allowed iii, m | jjk, myg
pairing(s): jungkook x reader x est. relationship yoongi
summary: Your relationship with Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, is unlike anything else in the entire world. At this point, it’s almost like telepathy with how close you are. Still, he surprised you. Such as asking Jeon Jungkook to fuck you. Once. Twice. And this time Jungkook is waiting for you, with Yoongi. 
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship with Yoongi (and they basically have heart eyes whenever they see each other lol); tiny bit of angst; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, voyeurism, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, m-masturbation, partial handjob, doggy, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS; takes place after 2021 GDA, yup blond JK is best boy and kind boy
mentions of the pandemic because this is based on real time
You closed the door behind you and breathed out slowly. It was late, quite dark outside. Most people would be asleep by now. You unhooked your black face mask from your ears and pushed the hood of your black parka down, releasing your hair. 
Ah, there was always stress and adrenaline to get here.
You had stated working again, so you weren't here every day anymore. You had to go back after all, if you wanted to keep your job. You worked from home most days and, with the current state of the world, now it was all the time. Still, you couldn’t take any chances. You made sure to get tested and have your results before coming here. Negative, so you were good. 
You turned on the light. 
A blond bullet collided into you.
"Oof!"
You had to plant your feet and brace for impact, and you still almost toppled over. You would have if it wasn't for the strong arms that encircled you and lifted you up, making you dizzy as you were spun around. 
"Ack, J-Jungkook..."
You could feel your eyes rolling in their sockets. You were put firmly on the ground and still being squeezed to death. 
"I'm so happy to see you!" Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, exclaimed, albeit in a hushed tone, but no less excited. "I was surprised when you said you could come today!"
You managed to blink your eyeballs back in place to see Jungkook's animated face above you, blond hair fluffy and bouncy from spinning you around. He wasn't wearing any makeup and he smelled freshly washed, as if he had taken a late shower. His brown eyes were sparkling as he grinned at you, showing off his bright white teeth. You hadn't seen his ash blond hair in real life yet, only on television. 
You smiled at him. "Yeah? Did you miss me?"
Jungkook nodded quickly. "I wanted to show you my hair." He bent down and placed it against your nose. You could smell the nice scent of the herbal product he used. “Do you like it, noona?"
You chuckled. "Of course, I like it," you said fondly, nuzzling the dark roots of the blond locks. It felt nice inhaling his familiar scent, a comforting and clean one. "You're my lock screen."
"I've been betrayed."
You chuckled as you heard the raspy, sleepy voice of Min Yoongi, your boyfriend. Owner of said apartment you were in right now. The lazy center of your universe. The reason why you even bothered to run around in the dark. The reason why you had to match your schedule with the guard shift so the security that recognized you could turn a blind eye. Not all of the security recognized you, just the ones Yoongi had a careful and stem conversation with. That’s how it had to be.
All because Min Yoongi was also SUGA of BTS. Agust D. Lil meow meow. The softest fluff with the sharpest tongue. 
You looked up to see Yoongi padding down the hallway in a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of loose black pants. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, squinting, but with a small smile on his lips. Jungkook released you as Yoongi neared, your body automatically wandering towards him. You reached into your oversized parka coat and pulled out your phone. You had changed the outside once again, to a TinyTan SUGA clear case, to show off the multi-chrome purple finish of the BTS S20+. You turned it around in your hand and pressed the side button. The screen lit up, revealing your lock screen.
"Thanks for standing next to each other. It made picking a lock screen much easier."
It was a picture of Jungkook and Yoongi, standing on stage right before the 'Life Goes On' performance at GDA 2020.
"I missed seeing you there," you added softly, holding your phone tightly. It was weirdly emotional, knowing Yoongi was back. How could he ever think anyone was going to forget him? “It’s always better when the seven of you are together.”
Yoongi chuckled, fluffing the back of his black hair. "Ah, back to working hard once again..." he complained, but you could tell he didn't mean it at all. 
And for you.
You wanted him to be on stage again. You wanted him to be busy again, doing what he loved, getting into nonsense in Run BTS!, looking cool in photo shoots, back to actively making music all the time. You were an independent person and you didn't necessarily need your significant other to always be beside you. For the longest time, you had even been quite comfortable with it. But the little while of Yoongi's sudden rest made you realize that it was nice to always be around him. To be somewhat normal, even if your relationship couldn’t and would never be fully normal.
And now you were disturbing his sleep. Now, not just his, but Jungkook's too. And maybe... Maybe that made you a burde–
Yoongi suddenly stepped up and tapped you lightly on the forehead with two fingers. 
"Stop that train of thought right now."
You frowned and bonked him right back with the back of your hand. "What if I was thinking about dick, huh?"
"If you were thinking about dick, you'd be on Jungkook's right now, and then I'd be pulling up a chair to watch the show."
"What if I was thinking about your dick, hmm?"
"Do you even remember what my dick looks like?" Yoongi replied haughtily. 
"Of course, I do. You painted the fucking Mona Lisa on my tits the last time I was here."
"Hm, you're right."
Jungkook was laughing hard behind you, the high-pitched one that came out when he couldn’t help himself. Both of you turned to see Jungkook with his arms around his stomach as he cackled at your bickering. 
"It's like..." Jungkook wheezed. "It's like watching hyung fight himself and losing..."
"I’m not losing," Yoongi retorted, pursing his lips. 
"You always lose."
"Because I let you win."
"That's true, because you love me."
You smiled cheekily at Yoongi. You thought he was going to give you his usual snappy comeback, but instead he leaned over and kissed your forehead. His  hair shaded his eyes a little. He smiled at you, dark brown orbs sparkling. 
I do love you. 
"You wanna spend all night standing here or are you going to join me in bed?" Yoongi teased, ticking his chin at your sneakers. 
You pointed to Jungkook. "Is he coming too?"
The laughter instantly left Jungkook’s face, replaced by nervousness. "Ah... I don't have to..." he stammered. "If you guys want to be alone... I only wanted to say hello..."
"He's coming," Yoongi said purposefully, ignoring Jungkook's ramble. "He's been waiting two hours to stick his dick in you."
"Hyung!"
You raised your eyebrows as you stepped out of your shoes. "I stated my arrival time in the text. Did you not tell him?"
"I told him, but he came right after shooting. Just in case you arrived earlier."
You smirked and tugged on Jungkook’s white shirt. "Did he tell you why I can only come at specific times?"
"I know, but..." Jungkook chewed on his lip. "Hyung said he would try and see if you could come more often."
You smiled ruefully as you took Yoongi's hand and followed him down the hall. You were still holding onto Jungkook's shirt, so you lowered your hand to take his too. He looked surprised for a second before you squeezed it reassuringly. The white with his blond hair was a good choice. You wondered if it was done on purpose. He was even wearing nicer black trousers, although his shirt wasn’t tucked in.
Was it for your sake?
"Ah, I don’t know if that’s possible. Don't want anyone to find out, after all. And," you added with a chuckle. "I don't want to get you in trouble either, Jungkookie."
"He's already in trouble," Yoongi laughed. "Taehyung caught him mumbling your name in his sleep."
Jungkook's cheeks instantly flushed. "I-It wasn't sexual!"
You blinked at him. "No one said it was."
He turned redder and grabbed your parka, hiding his face behind the big hood. "R... right."
Maybe you were being too greedy. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut so Yoongi wouldn’t feel pressure to indulge in your fantasies. Maybe you were asking too much.
The sigh came out of you, heavy with self-doubt.
"Maybe we shou–"
Yoongi's lips were suddenly on yours, kissing you deeply. Your eyes widened as he pressed you against Jungkook's hard body, watching you through half-lidded eyes. He could sense your worry and perhaps he guessed your reaction. You hand reached back to hold onto Jungkook to prevent yourself from falling, but your eyes were on Yoongi, the one who knew you best, the one who knew that he too was asking a lot from you, the one who was trying to remind you that everything was okay. His dark brown orbs were telling you, we will take everything step by step, and his lips moved on yours, I love you. You mouthed it back with a smile. 
Yoongi pulled away, the smile reaching his eyes. 
"You're the most special person to me."
Your heart softened, hearing those familiar words from your current favorite song. 
"I thought that was for ARMY."
Yoongi raised an eyebrow in mock distraught. "Are you not an ARMY?"
"Of course."
"Then it's for you too."
Yoongi was like that. He couldn't and wasn't the kind of guy to write you traditional love songs, but he gave you all sorts of other things. Small things, actions that seemed trivial or nonexistent to others. And maybe someone else would overlook those things, but you knew how difficult it was for him to show affection, even more so because of his job. To be honest, you were similar, showing your love in nuance and teasing. Also, you liked the treasure hunt that was Min Yoongi. And above all, most importantly, he listened to you, listened so deeply it felt like he knew what you were thinking. 
There was nothing like the telepathy been you and Min Yoongi. 
Jungkook was sniffing your head. 
"What's this small?"
You almost laughed at his childlike tone. Yoongi smiled too, leaning forward and sniffing your temple, next to your hair.
"Oh? It's fruity."
"It's peaches," you explained as Jungkook parted your hair to sniff deeper, as if that was going to do anything. He was probably just trying to fuck up your hair. "I ran out of shampoo and they didn’t have my usual at the store."
You were suddenly aware that you were squashed between Yoongi and Jungkook’s bodies as they two of them were smelling you, Yoongi’s arms around your waist, Jungkook’s hands on your hips. Despite being fully clothed, the position was sending tingles up your spine, your breathing shallowing, tickling Yoongi’s cheek as Jungkook brushed your hair to one side, pressing his lips against your bare neck. You felt Yoongi’s lips on your jaw, kissing against your pulse. You whined a little, one hand bunching against Yoongi’s shirt as your other hand drifted down to Jungkook’s right hand on your hip, stroking his knuckles.
Yoongi reached up to unzip your parka.
“W-wait, be careful–” you started, but Yoongi shushed you, nuzzling your cheek.
“I will be,” Yoongi whispered softly. “That’s why Jungkook’s here to help me.”
You bit your lip as Yoongi unzipped your coat with his right hand, using his left to hold the placket down. He kissed up to your mouth as his hands slid into the coat, fingers brushing against the red flannel underneath. Jungkook’s lips were moving up to your ear, lightly nipping at the curve and making you shiver, chest bumping against Yoongi’s as your ass hit Jungkook’s crotch.
“I…” You shut your eyes, trying to concentrate as Yoongi sucked on your lower lip. “I don’t deserve this…”
Yoongi clicked his tongue, biting at your lip roughly. You opened your eyes to his disapproving glare, eyes dark from his lowered lashes. His large hands squeezed your waist.
“You’re not allowed to say such things.”
You felt the heat spread from his hands, pooling into your core.
“Isn’t that right, Jungkook?”
Yoongi ticked an eyebrow at you as you gasped a little, Jungkook’s lips on your earlobe, voice lustful and deep.
“That’s right, noona. Let Yoongi-hyung and I ruin you.”
Help.
Yoongi’s fingers began undoing the buttons of the red flannel, one by one. He was well practiced at unbuttoning shirts with one hand now. A skill that he had honed for himself and for you. He smirked as you noticed, whispering your name in a slow, purring drawl, deep and raspy, dark brown eyes watching you and drinking in your reaction.
Min Yoongi was scary. He knew how to make you wet instantly.
And then Jungkook did the same, breathing your name into your ear in his silvery low octave. Your hand on Yoongi’s shirt clenched and tugged him close, moaning into his lips, kissing him hard. Jungkook’s hand slipped out of yours and reached up to your shoulders, pushing your clothes down, revealing your bare skin. Taking them off you as your tongue slid into Yoongi’s mouth, his soft pants against your lips as your hips grinded into Jungkook’s crotch, feeling him harden at your closeness. Your parka and shirt slid to the floor as Yoongi pulled you forward, closer and closer to the bed, Jungkook encouraging you by smacking your ass with his hips.
Yoongi broke the kiss with a flick of his head, making you whine in disappointment. He chuckled, looking down at you with a devious smile.
“Jungkook wants something from you.”
Yoongi turned you around with his hands on your hips, colliding you with Jungkook’s hard chest. You gasped a little, looking up to see Jungkook chewing on his lower lip, bunny teeth flashing. The tiny mole under his lip bounced with his biting. His golden hair framed his apprehensive brown eyes, finally making eye contact.
“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You tilted your head. “Do you want me to blow you again?”
Jungkook’s ears flushed red. “A-ah, n-no… I mean, yes, but…”
Yoongi snickered, unhooking your bra with his right hand. He lowered one strap and then the other, stripping it from you and tossing it aside. Jungkook’s cheeks tinged pink, eyes immediately dropping to stare at your tits. You smirked, placing your palms underneath them and bouncing them a little. You felt Yoongi’s fingers dancing down the small of your back, hovering around the waistband of your black sweatpants.
“Why aren’t you dressed like how you are on your Instagram?” Yoongi muttered behind you. “False advertising.”
“You have an Instagram?” Jungkook blurted out, still staring at your nipples.
You rolled your eyes even though Yoongi couldn’t see you. “Because someone would notice, obviously.”
Yoongi clicked his tongue. “Just one time…”
“Wait, how come I don’t know you have an Instagram?” Jungkook whined, hands coming up to settle on your breasts and squeezing them. You lowered your hands, gasping as Jungkook’s palms rubbed against your hard nipples.
“You never asked,” Yoongi answered, snapping the waistband into your skin. “Also, it’s private.”
“C-can we talk about this later?” you panted out.
Jungkook grinned and dropped his hands a little, brushing his fingers against your nipples. You moaned softly, your vision shaded by your lashes, seeing his mischievous smirk.
“Mhm, as long as you promise to show me after.”
You scoffed. “Sure, it’s not that interestin–” You whimpered as Jungkook pinched your nipples, rubbing them between his fingertips. “A-ah, Jungkook…”
He breathed your name, no honorifics, and your eyes locked with his. Fuck, he was so handsome with his ash blond hair, reminding you of when Yoongi had blond hair. Ugh, so fucking hot. You felt your sweatpants being shoved down your hips but you barely noticed, lost in daydreams of blond Yoongi and blond Jungkook.
“Can I eat you out?”
You were abruptly yanked back into the present by Jungkook’s request.
“Yes.” Fuck. You said that far too fast and far too needy. Jungkook grinned, removing his hands from your breasts. “Ah, I mean…”
He leaned forward, pressing his nose against yours. “You’re out of it today.”
You felt Yoongi’s fingers slip under the waistband of your panties. His lips were traveling down your back, kissing down your spine. You trembled slightly, swallowing as you stared into Jungkook’s dark brown eyes.
And you couldn’t help but think, was this really okay? Was this fair, for you to have both at once?
Jungkook tipped his head, lips against yours. He seemed to sense your hesitation. “I thought you wanted me?” His soft hair brushed against your cheek, golden rays blocking your vision. “Thought you loved looking at me?”
“I do,” you whimpered. “I love looking at you.”
Yoongi fingers pulling your panties down, down, liquid leaking out and clinging to the inside of your thighs. Your cheeks heated, realizing how wet you were.
“Then what’s the matter?” Yoongi purred against your lower back.
“Don’t… don’t want to hurt you, Yoongi,” you whispered against Jungkook’s lips. Your vision blurred and you blinked rapidly. Ah, why was the world so heavy all of a sudden? Why couldn’t you be calm as usual? Why couldn’t you roll with it as usual?
Because you missed them.
Them.
Jungkook kissed you tenderly as Yoongi stood back up, his lips pressed to your ear.
“There’s nothing like us. You know there isn’t.”
He was right, of course. There was nothing like you and Yoongi.
Jungkook pulled back and Yoongi’s right hand appeared in your periphery, his long fingers tucking Jungkook’s blond hair behind his left ear, giving you a clear view of Jungkook’s beautiful eyes, the unique shape, the rich brown color, the way they looked at you, as if he was afraid you were going to disappear. Waiting for the heartbreak.
“And there’s no one like Jungkook,” Yoongi murmured. “You want him. He wants you. Isn’t that enough?”
And Yoongi was right again. There was no one like Jungkook.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you breathed. “I’m sorry, but I really do want you so bad.”
“You can have me. However much you want,” Jungkook replied. Eyes locked with yours, meaning every word. He tilted his head, leaning in again, lashes lowering, breath against your lips.
“I want you to take it all.”
But Jungkook wasn’t the only one who said it.
Your eyes widened as you heard Yoongi echo Jungkook’s words right into your ear.
“Take it all,” Yoongi growled. “Take it and don’t hold back.”
Your name fell from Yoongi’s lips, your name, like a spark to fire, igniting you. There no one like Yoongi, snapping you out of your doubt, taking your heart and holding it tight while turning you on. You grabbed Jungkook’s white shirt and yanked his body to yours as you kissed him, inhaling his clean scent, his lips an addiction. And there was no one like Jungkook, because what both of you thought was just a crush, just a one-time thing, wasn’t. For some reason, you couldn’t stop and he couldn’t stop, hooked on the taste of his lips and his tongue sliding against yours, moaning into your mouth as you moaned into his, feeling Yoongi’s hands on your hips, pressing you into Jungkook’s clothed crotch, some of your juices getting onto his pants and staining them.
Jungkook pushed your head up, breaking the kiss and gasping, eyelids fluttering. He pressed your head back against Yoongi’s shoulder, kissing down your chest, running his tongue over your skin. You shuddered, head falling back down to watch him. Chocolate orbs to yours as he licked your left nipple, twirling his wet muscle around it, covering it with saliva. You whimpered at the dirty action, arching your back to press the hard nub into his mouth. Jungkook whined in his throat, closing his lips around it as you humped your chest onto his face. He sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks, intensifying the feeling as Yoongi teased your other nipple, pinching it and rolling it between his fingers.
“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…”
Your thighs squeezed together, desperate for friction.
Jungkook released your nipple, licking it a few times, letting you watch the swollen nub get slapped back and forth by his tongue. You shivered, hips bumping into his. Jungkook’s strong hands came up to hold you still.
“Don’t waste it by rubbing it all over me,” he teased. “I want it in my mouth.”
You clutched his white shirt and yanked up, making Jungkook yelp with your force.
“Take it off,” you half-growled, half-whined. “Need it off.”
Yoongi chuckled at your impatience as Jungkook wiggled out of his shirt, throwing it aside. He looked back at you, blond hair covering one of his eyes, smirk on his lips.
“Better?”
Ugh, Jungkook was so attractive. The shape of his broad shoulders, his sculpted arms, the fucking tattoos that shone on his tan skin, the way his body trimmed down to that v-line. Your eyes roamed down his torso and then back up, licking your lips. Jungkook raised his eyebrows, completely aware of your staring.
“Yes. Much better.”
You took him by the shoulders and pushed him down to his knees. His eyes widened, stumbling a little as he knelt for you, hands coming up to grip your hips for support. You pushed his left hand away, hooking your leg onto Jungkook’s left shoulder and presenting your pussy right into his face. He gasped at the sight, eyes glued to your dripping core, lips parting wetly.
“Fuck,” he breathed hotly. You squirmed, trying to get into his face, but his right hand held you down, drinking in the image in front of him, left hand finding your ass and gripping it tightly. “You smell so fucking sexy.”
“Jungkook, please…”
His eyes flickered up to your face, half-lidded with lust, dipping his head down.
“Can’t resist you,” he mumbled. “I just have to have a taste of his nectar.”
And then his tongue on you, licking a fat stripe across your opening, moaning as your flavor invaded his tastebuds, his hand lifting your ass to tip your hips into his hot mouth. You gasped, pressing into Yoongi’s chest, your hands reaching behind you and gripping his slim waist. You had to tilt your body and lock your upper arms so you wouldn’t bump into his left shoulder by accident. Yoongi hummed soothingly, aware of your consideration, hands gently kneading your breasts as Jungkook’s wet tongue slid into your hole, witnessing your wanton expression as he sucked out your juices, adding a little suction, removing it, driving you insane.
“A-ah, yes, fuck, Jungkook, yes…”
When was the last time Yoongi ate you out? Months ago. Yoongi had a tongue unmatched, the perfect combination of speed, pressure, and technique. His tongue technology, one might say. Jungkook’s tongue was softer, less practiced, but he made up for it with enthusiasm and his intense gaze on you, moaning into your pussy. You slid down a little and cried out as his tongue made contact with your sensitive clit, his tongue pressing against it and swirling, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your thigh tensing against his cheek.
“Mm, yes, Jungkook, right there…”
Yoongi pinched and pulled your nipples. You snuck a glance at him, looking up, and realized he was looking down at you. His lips curved upwards to a playful smirk as he noticed your curious gaze. He tugged at your nipples, earning your soft whines.
“You moved down to put less strain on my shoulder?” he murmured fondly.
You nodded quickly, gasping as Jungkook sucked on your clit, causing you to roll your hips into his face. Jungkook grunted, digging his fingers into your ass, spreading you out under him. Fuck, his mouth was so soft and so warm, adding to your heat. Your hands worked into his hair, pressing him into you, his slurping sounds so lewd that your legs were quivering.
His eyes flickered to yours, pupils dilated, nose in your crotch, and, fuck, Jeon Jungkook was just so hot, on his knees and eating you out like a fucking buffet, his tattooed arm curved around you and your right thigh on his left shoulder, pressing against his cheek as your fingers curled in his blond locks, humping his face to add friction. Either Jungkook was inherently good at eating pussy or he had somehow rehearsed this and, considering his profession, you were guessing the former.
The Golden Maknae lived up to his name in appearance and talent.
You didn’t want to lean too much on Yoongi, so you put more of your weight onto Jungkook. He seemed to feel nothing at all, busy clamping his lips down on your clit and sucking harder. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, wail in your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as all of the sensations piled on you at once – Yoongi’s deft fingers playing with your nipples, Jungkook’s scorching mouth and tongue abusing your swollen clit, your hands gripping Jungkook’s soft hair and fucking his handsome face – and it was too much, all too much as your lower lip popped out of your teeth, moaning loudly as your orgasm radiated through you, throbbing waves rippling from your core as you came into Jungkook’s waiting mouth and chin, leaking all over his skin, dripping down his neck. He groaned, vibrating your clit, and you gasped, rutting into his face roughly, pressing your head into Yoongi’s torso.
“Oh, God, fuck, Jungkook, Yoongi…”
You weren’t sure if Jungkook was suffocating or not, but Jungkook himself didn’t seem to give a shit, cleaning you off with his tongue and burying his nose into your pussy, rubbing it against your clit. Your hips bucked at the sensitivity, your leg falling off his shoulder as you sucked in a breath. It forced his mouth to retreat, and you were greeted with the sight of Jungkook’s eyes slowly opening, his nose, lips, and chin covered in your glistening, viscous juices. He made eye contact with you, hand coming up to wipe it off, pink tongue sliding out and licking it from the back of his hand.
“Hah…” Jungkook panted, hungrily sucking up your taste. “That’s my drink of choice.”
You chuckled. “Sorry you can’t get it at a bar.”
Jungkook ticked his head, smirking devilishly. “I can if you’re sitting on the bar, legs spread open for me.”
Damn, what a visual. You straightened with the help of Yoongi, only for his right hand to close around your arm, yanking you to the bed. You started, bouncing slightly as you fell onto the mattress. Jungkook seemed amused, standing up to watch with interest. His blond hair was tousled wildly, messy from you holding onto his head. He smirked, lips dark pink from eating you out, the sharpness of his jawline standing out. But you couldn’t stare at him for long, because Yoongi plunged three fingers into your aching pussy, filling you up suddenly. You yelped, snapping your head to Yoongi’s dark, intense gaze, made darker by his black bangs shadowing his eyes.
“Y-Yoongi!”
He purred your name, giving you a teasing smile, tongue against the side of his pink lips.
“Mhm?”
“W-want…” You gasped as he slowly thrust into you, thumb knuckle rubbing against your inflamed clit, pushing his fingers in, your pussy clenching around them. “Want your cock…”
“Sorry, my love,” he murmured. “Can’t yet. Doctor’s orders.”
You furrowed your brows at him, raising your hips to meet his hand. “I’m beginning you think you’re enjoying denying me.”
Yoongi’s foxy smile implied just that. “What are you talking about?” He leaned down, tongue dancing between his teeth, snickering as you whimpered. “I’m not denying you. That’s why I asked Jungkook to come and stuff his big cock into you.”
You whimpered, biting your lip and snapped your legs closed, eyes rolling back into your head as you came all over his hand, soaking his skin and dripping onto the bed. Yoongi moaned softly as he felt your walls pulse against his fingers.
“Fuck, I love it when I can feel you cum for me.”
You shuddered, muscles tingling with pleasure. Yoongi pulled his fingers out slowly, groaning as he felt you tighten around them, trying to prevent him from leaving. He chuckled, raising an eyebrow.
“Could you help hyung out, Jungkook?”
You shifted your eyes to Jungkook, who suddenly froze, the fly of his black pants wide open, hand down his black boxer briefs. Yoongi noticed your startled expression and turned his head too, both eyebrows raising. Jungkook’s cheeks tinged pink.
“Er…”
“Were you jacking off just now?”
Jungkook’s eyes darted everywhere except Yoongi’s face. “Er…”
“Show me, Jungkook,” you breathed out.
His large doe-like eyes shot to your body to on the bed, legs spreading, Yoongi’s wet fingers hovering over your quivering mound. He stole a glance at Yoongi, who jerked his head towards you.
“She gave you an order.”
“Hyung…” Jungkook whined. “It’s embarrassing…”
Yoongi shrugged, his fingers touching your swollen clit. You jumped, gasping as he rubbed in slow, large circles, stimulating it gently. The sensitive bundle of nerves throbbed against his fingertips, pussy clenching around nothing.
“Y-Yoongi, don’t, I’m t-too sensitive,” you panted, legs threatening to close once more.
“Keep your legs open,” Yoongi said sternly. “Let Jungkookie see.”
You gritted your teeth, hands twisting in the sheets, hips raising to his hand. “I c-can’t… You’re too good, Yoongi…” You had to lock your knees to prevent them from collapsing inwards, feeling him build his speed, eyes fluttering closed as you moaned once more, feeling the pleasure flood throughout, wetter and wetter, your slit opening and closing. You felt Yoongi lean down, his black hair against your cheek. Oh, fuck. His pine-scented cologne. Sex. Yoongi. You resisted the urge to grab his head and fiercely make out with him. He wasn’t fully recovered yet. His voice was that low, raspy drawl, arousing you just as much as his fingers rubbing your clit.
“Open your eyes and see what you’ve done to poor Jungkook.”
You opened your eyes to see Jungkook was closer now, right next to the bed, pants and underwear around his knees as he pumped his cock right next to you, eyes fixated on Yoongi’s fingers and your sopping wet pussy, his pouty pink lips wet and open, blond hair all over his face. The head of his cock was an angry red, veins popping out along the thick length as he smeared his pre-cum over the tip with his finger, hissing at the sensitivity. He seemed to feel your stare and then your eyes locked.
“Jungkook…”
Breathlessly, his name drifting out of your lips like smoke.
His dark brown orbs were nearly black with how blown-out his pupils were. He gasped your name out, needy and desperate, his chin lifting, hair falling back to reveal his lustful dark eyes as his mouth opened, pink tongue lolling out a little.
“Wanna cum with you,” Jungkook begged. “Tell when you’re close. Please.”
You nodded, sharply cut off as Yoongi assaulted your clit, forearm nearly vibrating as he pushed you to the edge, so close, so close that you had to chomp down on the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from orgasming right then and there.
“Y-Yoongi, he’s not ready yet…”
Yoongi chuckled. “Oh, I know.”
You whimpered, thighs caving in a little, but Yoongi growled deep in his chest, warning you.
“Don’t close your legs.”
Normally you would fight him, but this situation was different. You wanted to please Yoongi, give him everything he asked for because you knew he couldn’t get everything he wanted. Your core tightened, the pitch of your cries hiking as you tried to hold back, staring at Jungkook’s long fingers wrapped around his thick, stiff cock, black tattoos rippling on tan skin as he chased his climax, watching your legs shake with strain as Yoongi took you to your limits. Your wetness was soaking a puddle into the sheets, the scent of your arousal so strong it seemed to prevail all others.
Fuck, you couldn’t anymore, you just couldn’t.
“J-Jungkook… a-ah, gonna cum soon, fuck, Yoongi, fuck, you’re too fucking good!”
Your last words turned into a wild, guttural moan as you came, hips ramming into Yoongi’s hand, back arching, your orgasm pulling you up taut like a marionette on a string, thighs shaking as your pussy throbbed with release. Your juices dripped down like honey, splattering over your thighs and down your ass before you abruptly fell, legs crumpling as Yoongi’s hand cupped your hot, trembling mound, his heavy pants mixing with yours. He groaned softly, feeling your puffy pussy lips and clit flinch and jerk as the aftershocks rippled through your nerves.
Jungkook whined deep in his throat, splattering his cum all over your leg and on the sheets, hot thick strings that made you shudder as it covered your skin. He pumped it all out, emptying it on you. Surely, you couldn’t muster the strength to take a dick right now. But one look at Jungkook and his hand still gripping his cock, slowly, delicately stroking it once more, staring at the mess that both of you made, sweat beaded on his forehead.
Yeah, no, you definitely wanted it in you.
“Jungkook…”
He raised his head, ash blond strands soaked with sweat, wispy around his eyes.
“Want your cock.”
He smirked. “What do you say?”
Now. You resisted the urge to be a smartass. There were other ways.
“Let noona’s wet, tight pussy take care of you,” you purred.
The dominant spark in Jungkook’s eyes flitted away, replaced by his submissive doe eyes, his desire, his desperation. Fuck, it was so fun seeing that, the duality, reminding you so much of Yoongi and his softness juxtaposed with his sarcasm. Yoongi removed his hand, moving to the nightstand and grabbing a towel, reaching over to wipe Jungkook’s cum off you. You sat up, taking the towel from him as you noticed him leaning on his left arm.
“Ah, be careful,” you reprimanded, shooing him away.
Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not broken.”
“You’re not fixed either,” you pouted, cleaning yourself up. You made eye contact with him and he clicked his tongue, nodding. Yoongi was about to move away, but you grabbed a fistful of his sweatpants, pulling him back. He tilted his head, sending you an inquisitive look.
“I shouldn’t do any more,” he murmured. “I can just watch.”
You yanked the side of his pants down and Yoongi arched an eyebrow. Your eyes on his crotch, then back to his face. Your lips parted, tongue flickering out. He could put two and two together.
“You can do some things without moving.”
His gaze sharpened. “I’m going to want to fuck your face.”
Your lips curved into a smirk. “Well, you can’t. You’ll have to sit there and take it like a good boy.” You removed your hand and patted the pillows, grinning. “I want to get spit roasted.”
Yoongi sucked in a tight breath, eyebrow twitching.
“It’s not really a spit roast unless you’re the passive one,” Yoongi tried to argue as he tugged his pants down, getting onto the bed. You scooted down, feeling a hard, firm body come up behind you, hands sliding up your waist to cup you breasts. You moaned softly, pressing your ass against Jungkook’s leaking cock, feeling it throb against your skin.
“Need a condom, hyung,” Jungkook panted, exhaling in satisfaction as his fingers ran over your nipples, earning pleading gasps.
Yoongi reached over to grab one as you reached back, running your hand over Jungkook’s semi-hard length, spreading the pre-cum down the head. Your fingertip touched the slit and he shivered, whining against your neck.
“Noona, don’t…”
You took the condom from Yoongi with your free hand, wrapping your fingers around Jungkook’s cock as he moaned, tugging at your nipples repeatedly. Your hips jerked involuntarily, skin rubbing against the sensitive head, making him groan.
“Need you hard for me.”
You stroked him slowly, not too tight, not too loose, his warm cock throbbing in your hand. You felt one of Jungkook’s hands leave your chest, gripping your hand tightly around his cock. His cock swelled at the sudden stop, pressing against your palm. His lips touched your ear and you shivered at his voice, low and dangerous, almost feral.
“Oh, I’ll be hard,” Jungkook snarled softly. “Impossible not to be hard…” His other hand dropped, snaking down your stomach. You tensed up as he neared closer and closer. Yoongi cleared his throat and your head snapped up to see him tilting his head, observing closely with an amused smirk.
“Jungkook, d-don’t…”
“… In this pussy.”
And you moaned loudly, feeling two of his fingers slip down and spread your pussy lips, engorged clit poking out from your repeated orgasms. Even the small stimulation made you wetter, drenching the inside of your thighs as Yoongi’s hungry eyes watched Jungkook spread you open for him to see.
“Spread your legs for hyung,” Jungkook ordered, nipping at your earlobe.
You whined, opening your thighs and tipping them up for Yoongi to see your glistening, pink pussy lips forced open by Jungkook’s fingers, your walls pulsing with need. Your hand was still around Jungkook’s cock, holding his hardness as you watching Yoongi’s right hand enclose his already stiff length, licking his lips at this dirty display.
“Flick her clit, Jungkook.”
You cried out, hips bucking as Jungkook flicked your clit with his nail, releasing his cock and falling onto your hands, staring into Yoongi’s mischievous, triumphant eyes. The condom fluttered to the bed, dropped by the sudden shock of painful ecstasy.
“P-Please…” Too many orgasms, too much pleasure. It was turning you into a mess, taking over you, leaving you at the mercy of the two men, crawling towards Yoongi, ass up in the air as you went low, looking up at him, pleading him. “Need you in my mouth, Yoongi. Wanna make you feel good.”
Yoongi removed his hand, ticking his chin to Jungkook. “Ask him to shove his dick into you.”
You bit your lip, turning back and wiggling your ass, seeing Jungkook roll the condom down. His eyes on yours, sending shivers down your spine with his intense gaze and naughty smirk.
“Jungkook.” Even his name from your lips seemed to darken his chocolate orbs with lust. “Want your cock to fill me up.”
“That’s too nice,” Yoongi chided.
Your ears burned. But, well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Jungkook, please, please use my pussy to cum, fuck, want you inside me so fucking bad.”
He groaned, sliding up to you, gripping your hips, pressing his fingers into your ass, positioning himself right at your entrance.
“You sound so fucking sexy begging for cock,” he purred. “I just have to give it to you.”
And then he plunged into you, both of you moaning so loudly that the soundproof walls were saving you once again, so wet that your pussy squelched around his thick cock. Ah, he just felt so good, so hard and unforgiving, stretching you out forcefully. You turned back to Yoongi, lowering your head as he spread his legs for you, lifting his shirt as you swallowed his cock, eyelids fluttering as his taste was on your lips once again, invading your mouth, familiar and wonderful. You saw Yoongi moan watching you, cat-like eyes shrouded with lust, biting his lip as you sank down, vibrating his cock with your cries as Jungkook’s length fully entered you, his balls hitting your over-stimulated clit.
So full.
Oh, fuck.
You tried to say Yoongi’s name around his cock, hoping your eyes could tell him what you meant. I missed this so fucking much. His perfect length filling your mouth, smelling so good and so him, burying itself in your throat.
“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed. “Fuck, you look so fucking beautiful taking two cocks at once.”
Jungkook slid out a little and thrust into you. You whimpered around Yoongi, staring into his eyes, tightening your throat muscles as you opened your lips, tongue unfurling down, down.
“Yes, fuck, yes,” Yoongi hissed, tipping his head back as he felt your tongue on his balls, his stiff cock throbbing as you rubbed it against the roof of your mouth, slapping his balls with your tongue at the same time, warm saliva dripping down and coating them. “Yes, fuck, you’re so good at that, fuck, I love you so fucking much, a-ah…”
And now Jungkook was really fucking you, hard, deep thrusts that shoved you repeatedly onto Yoongi’s cock. You had to retreat your head a little to prevent yourself from choking, but you didn’t stop licking Yoongi’s balls, his handsome face painted with pleasure, murmuring your name, praising you. You swiped your tongue from his balls to the tip of his member, teasing the sensitive skin underneath the head expertly before sliding back down. Up and down, stroking him with your tongue. Yoongi groaned, hips rising into your throat. Fuck, you loved seeing his normally serious face completely consumed by lust, loved the way he lost himself to you.
And, oh fuck, you loved the how you felt as your pussy was assaulted by Jungkook’s cock, stretching you out, pressing against your walls, filling you up as you squeezed him back, massaging all of him as he descended.
“Your pussy is so tight,” Jungkook panted. “Fuck, so tight and so wet, I love it so much, I love fucking you noona, you’re just so fucking good at taking cock.”
You withdrew your tongue from Yoongi’s balls, encasing your lips around his length and sucking hard, creating a tight, wet vacuum, Jungkook’s hips slapping against yours adding to your motion. Yoongi gasped, spreading his fingers on the bed, head pressed into the headboard. His dark eyes were half-lidded, watching your ass bounce as Jungkook fucked you onto his cock, forcing you to swallow him at a quick, rough pace.
“Fuck, I knew it would be good,” Yoongi breathed, gaze shifting to you and your eyes looking up at him, witnessing his satisfied expression. “Look at you. So fucking perfect, lips wrapped around my cock, Jungkook’s dick squeezed by your pretty pussy.” It made you wetter, knowing Yoongi was liking this, knowing he was aroused seeing you like this. His hand came up and tucked your hair back, fingertips brushing against your forehead. His touch made you whine, encouraging you to fuck Jungkook back eagerly, ass slapping into his crotch, bobbing your head up and down faster, tighter.
And Yoongi’s eyes on you, telling you everything. I want you, I need you, I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I’ll give you anything I can, because I can’t give you everything.
And Jungkook’s cock was twitching in your pussy, indicating he was close, his husky moans filling up the room as Yoongi’s own breathing shallowed, drinking in every detail, not wanting to miss any moment of you getting fucked so carnally, sinfully full from front to back, whole body shaking from the previous multiple orgasms. You could tell that he wanted you to feel so much pleasure that you were wrecked and it was working, oh, fuck, it was working as pleasure crawled to every fiber of your being, forgetting that your jaw and pussy were aching, forgetting your knees were basically jelly, forgetting you had any other responsibilities in life except making Yoongi and Jungkook cum with your tight, wet holes, so fueled by adrenaline that you rocked your body back and forth, stimulating both at once.
Your eyes locked with Yoongi’s.
Cum for me.
“I’m close,” he murmured. “Tighter. Choke Jungkook’s cock with your perfect pussy.”
You hollowed your cheeks and squeezed your core. You heard Jungkook yelp, fingertips digging into your ass.
“A-ah, c-can’t hold on…” Jungkook rambled, eyes rolling back, gasping for breath. “You’re so lucky, hyung, fuck, so lucky she’s yours.”
Jungkook smacked his hips into you, once, twice, letting out a deep groan as he came, shooting into you, cock throbbing against your walls as his balls slapped your clit, sending you over the edge as you whined around Yoongi’s cock, feeling it jerk in your mouth as he came down your throat, thick, delicious saltiness sliding down, pooling on your tongue, your pussy pulsing in time with Yoongi, drinking him as your pussy shivered around Jungkook’s cock, milking him dry. Your body shuddered hard, trembling from head to toe, the ferocity of your orgasm rattling you, so much so that it felt like the world was spinning. You popped your mouth off of Yoongi’s cock, sliding down against his thigh, wheezing for oxygen.
Yoongi’s hand instantly came up to touch your shoulder, caressing it tenderly. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, hot breath against his skin, knees sliding down, taking Jungkook with you because he also was at the point of exhaustion. Yoongi frowned at you and you gave him a weak thumbs up, cheekily grinning at him, wiping the spit off your chin with his thigh.
Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you thumbs-up me, woman, tell me you’re not dying.”
You leaned against his thigh, sighing as Jungkook pulled out of you.
“I’m very pleased,” you exhaled happily.
“I’m glad the god is satisfied with her sacrifice,” Yoongi remarked dryly, trying to sound annoyed but his affectionate smile gave him away. You smiled back before turning around, finding Jungkook on his back, chest heaving, hair soaked with sweat. You scooted down to him, brushing ash blond strands away from his face. His eyes were closed, pretty lashes against his skin, cheeks flushed pink with exertion.
“I… I can go…” Jungkook mumbled. “Give you guys some alone time and stuff.”
“Jungkook.”
His opened his eyes, brown orbs shifting to you. Apologetic, kind.
“Do you want this to be more?”
His lips curved into a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No. This is fine.”
“Don’t lie to her,” Yoongi scolded, moving to sit beside you and glare down at him.
Jungkook swallowed, looking away. “I don’t… I don’t want to be a burden, hyung. I don’t want to ruin your relationship.”
“Don’t you think you would have done that already if that was possible?” Yoongi scoffed, placing his hand on yours, rubbing your knuckles.
Jungkook eyes flickered to your joined hands, then to your face.
“R-Really…?”
You exchanged a glance with Yoongi and he poked your forehead, exasperated.
“Have I not maybe yourself clear with you?” Yoongi grumbled grumpily. His eyes shifted down, letting out a long sigh. “I can’t give you everything. I can’t go on dates. I can’t kiss you in public. I can’t even hold your hand or stand near you outside this fucking door.” The frustration was clear in his voice. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him it was okay, but you resisted, letting him get his words out. He turned to Jungkook, his dark brown eyes serious and sad.
“You can’t do that either, you know? It’s lonely. It sucks. You can only have moments like these, behind closed doors.”
Jungkook looked up at him, expression unreadable.
“Then why… why did you share it with me?”
“Because,” Yoongi started, eyes flickering to you. “Because I wanted to make her happy. Because I can’t do everything, but I can do some things. And because Bangtan is everything to me.” Yoongi was mumbling a little, not used to this level of emotion. “If I can maybe make you happy too, Jungkook, why wouldn’t I try?”
You could see Jungkook was also awkward because this was a delicate situation with even more complicated emotions, made more complex that they were two members of the same idol group, almost like brothers in closeness, held to the same rules and the same restrictions. Jungkook blinked rapidly, clearing his watering eyes. He looked away, hastily rubbing them with the back of his hand.
“Will it… Will it be less lonely if I’m with you, hyung, noona?” The younger man swallowed hard, clearing his vision and looking back up at both of you, brown eyes glassy. “Will it… suck less?”
You smiled, nodding slowly. “It would suck a whole lot less.”
Yoongi made a noise of affirmation, scrunching his nose. He was also blinking quite a bit, although he hid it better than Jungkook did.
Jungkook slid his right hand on the sheets, in front of your joined hands. Yoongi’s eyes darted about before he inhaled deeply, picking up your hand and plopping it on Jungkook’s, sandwiching it between the two larger palms. You pressed your fingertips against Jungkook’s knuckles, feeling Yoongi’s reassuring pat on the back of your hand, warmed from above and below.
Yoongi gave you his usual, apprehensive smile, as if he didn’t know what to do with his face when being told to look happy.
Jungkook grinned, bright bunny teeth flashing, eyes and nose scrunching with affection.
You couldn’t resist.
“Is this allowed?” you asked with a wide smirk.
Yoongi laughed, raspy and pretty.
“Definitely not.”
Jungkook sat up a bit, furrowing his brow as if he just remembered something.
“Wait, what about noona’s private Instagram tho–”
-
part iv “That's not allowed! You know what that does to me.“
--
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watercolorfreckles · 3 years ago
Text
The Villain and His Therapist - Part 4
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
"You know, that shade of pink looks lovely on you," Villain purred, descending the stairs to lean against the kitchen counter.
Juliet paused where she was scrambling eggs in a skillet and glanced down at her attire of soft blue pajama pants and oversized grey sweater. "I'm not wearing any pink," she said slowly, lifting her gaze to look at the Villain.
He'd just come down from a shower, dark locks of hair curling over his forehead. He smelled of her green apple shampoo. It made her insides swoop all funny.
Villain's lips tugged into an easy grin as he took one step closer, two. He paused directly in front of her to lift a hand, brushing his knuckles feather-light against her burning cheek.
"I was referring to your blush. It suits you quite beautifully." His voice was liquid gold. Her skin tingled beneath his touch.
Remembering herself, Juliet swatted his hand away and covered her cheeks with her palms. "I'm not blushing."
He didn't try to hide the amusement on his face.
"Mm, whatever were you thinking about, Doctor Meadows?" Villain took Juliet's hands to gently pry them away from her face, using the hold on her wrists to pull her closer.
Juliet sucked in a soft breath, looking up at him. The sun streaming through the window caught the highlights of his handsome face and illuminated his dark irises, turning them to molten amber.
"I...was...thinking about how gentle you can be. When you calmed me down that night, you were patient and sensitive; you displayed a lot of empathy and care. I'm really proud of you. You've come a long way."
Villain's grin grew a little softer as he tilted his head to the side, studying her face. The way he looked at her used to make her feel like prey being stalked by a lion. Now...it made her feel like she was the only thing in his universe.
Her stomach fluttered.
Juliet swallowed, continuing. "I imagine it isn't easy for you to be so vulnerable. I'm glad that you feel safe enough with me to be soft."
Villain brushed her fringe away from her face, tapping the side of her head. "That psychologist brain of yours never turns off, does it?"
She smiled sheepishly, gaze dipping down to the floor.
Villain's finger hooked under her chin, lifting it gently. "I never said I didn't like it. You are my therapist, after all."
Villain leaned in closer, eliciting the slightest hitch in her breath. He smiled, relishing her response.
His breath ghosted over her lips, leaving them tingling in anticipation.
"Yours?" she asked softly. Her mouth had gone dry.
"Would you like to be?"
Juliet's thoughts were rarely clear on her face. She was difficult to read under the years of training keeping her steady and prepared. Villain wanted to unpick that artificial calm from her; to map her every reaction. He wanted to watch her sigh and blush and smile...
"The eggs are going to burn," Juliet whispered, watching him.
Without taking his eyes off of her, Villain reached over her shoulder, turning off the stove. In one fluid movement, he turned with her, pressing her back against the counter.
If her cheeks were warm before, they were blazing now. Villain smiled again, this time something so fond it dazzled her senses. The world narrowed to just the two of them, flush together.
Juliet's hands fell against Villain's chest, lightly resting against the soft cotton of his shirt.
She breathed in his scent.
"Villain?"
"Mm?" he murmured, the hum of his voice vibrating against her palms.
"When your brother- What he said about how you feel...about me... Is it true?" She held his gaze, holding her breath.
"My sweet Juliet Meadows." His voice alone was enough to melt her. He took one of her hands with deliberate gentleness and placed a kiss against her fingers. "If only I were brave enough to say it out loud."
"You can say it in other ways," Juliet breathed.
His eyes gleamed.
"Oh I intend to," Villain said softly.
Villain's gaze flicked down to Juliet's lips. He kept one hand on her waist, slotting the other into her hair. He leaned in until their lips brushed. Pausing, he seemed to catch himself, probably remembering Juliet's comments in therapy about the importance of healthy communication.
He smiled again, sharp and beautiful. His warm breath grazed her skin while his thumb traced lazy circles against her jaw. "May I?" he whispered, his lips hovering just barely above hers.
Juliet opened her mouth to answer, and-
The door burst open.
Juliet jolted in surprise, panic shooting through her as she gripped Villain's arms before she caught sight of who was really at the door.
The figure was fitted in a deep red super-suit, a black mask concealing his identity.
She relaxed, releasing a breath through gritted teeth. "Hero?"
"Doctor Meadows," Hero said, relief flooding his expression. "I heard what happened to you on the news and with Supervillain's escape, I knew you were in danger so I-"
His eyes narrowed as he seemed to notice Villain for the first time. "You get away from her," he hissed marching closer, crimson beams of tech-powered energy sparking to life in his palms. "Let her go and get out."
Villain hardened at the sight of him in turn, straightening and pulling out an advanced weapon. "Now that's insulting, at least I was invited inside." His voice was smooth and dangerous. Chilling.
A far cry from the man who had held her close and smiled fondly only moments ago.
Juliet stepped between them, holding up a hand in each direction. "Stop."
"You invited him in? Doctor Meadows, he's Supervillain's brother! He's probably here to finish the job for him!"
"Oh that's rich," Villain interjected. "For all your self-righteous monologues begging me to change, to be better, when I actually try, you can't accept it."
"I'm not willing to bet Doctor Meadow's life on your 'moral awakening,'" Hero spat.
"Hero," Juliet said in the no-nonsense voice her job often required her to use. "Take a deep breath. Villain would never hurt me, you don't need to worry about that."
"He-"
"-is in rehabilitation," Juliet finished for him. "He is my patient, just as you are. He has made tremendous progress, you are in no position to discredit his reformation. I promise you that I am safe with him."
Hero stared, studying the pair. Villain's jaw was clenched, glaring hard at the hero. Juliet touched his shoulder and some of the tension immediately dissolved from him.
Hero extinguished the energy beams in his palms, shifting into a less guarded stance. He regarded them for a second longer.
"Alright."
"Alright?"
"You want to prove you have good intentions? Help me find Supervillain and bring him in, for good this time," Hero said. "I can't do it alone."
Villain turned to look at Juliet. She stepped closer, taking his hand as she spoke.
"No. I don't want you to put yourself in a position where your recovery might be compromised again. You're too close to the situation to act rationally, and it would be too much of a trigger for you."
Villain's gaze softened as it landed on her, any hostility in his demeanor vanishing like it had never been there. He brushed her hair back with gentle fingers, leaning in. His thumb dipped down to graze her lips.
Villain kissed her cheek, her chin, the corner of her mouth. He straightened, eyes intent, looking like he wanted to kiss her properly--but not until they were alone.
When time would suspend like frost in the air and the moment would belong solely to the two of them, in the quiet and safety of each other.
Juliet's skin felt cold at the loss of his touch. Dread swirled in the pit of her stomach.
Villain turned to Hero, observing him for a moment before extending a hand to shake. "Deal."
Sorry I haven't posted in so loooong. I kept putting off writing this bc I was worried id mess it up lol. This is officially the longest series I've posted so far (the rest of my snippets have 3 parts or less) so wooo! Let me know if you want to see more :)
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