#OH I FEEL LIKE SUCH AN ASS DESCRIBING ART PHOTOS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snackhobi · 4 years ago

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pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you’re used to being in love with taehyung. you’ve had a lot of time to get good at it, after all—by this point you’re the world’s expert at keeping your less-than-platonic feelings hidden from him, what with the amount of practice you’ve had.

but then he signs up for a massage therapy course, because apparently you can never catch a break.

or: the one where taehyung gives you a full body massage and then some.

warnings: sexually explicit content, massage with a happy ending (literally 🤧), cursing, edible massage oil/lube, fingering (f), unprotected sex (be safe when you have sex please), multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m), cum swallowing, pet names, body worship?, brief mention of shower sex

a/n: I swear this was meant to be pwp. this was literally meant to just be pwp with some massage shenanigans. and then I blinked and it had become a soft 13k fic which honestly… kicked my ass quite a bit. but I hope you enjoy it!! thank you as always to @hobi-gif for beta reading this and encouraging me and putting up with me changing this multiple times, what would I do without your support miss hope?

Taehyung goes through a lot of different phases.

He just finds so many things interesting. Photography, art, art history, music, fashion, thrift shopping; heck, there was even the time he got weirdly into making tea and became some sort of connoisseur, going through the whole rigmarole of buying the loose leaves and weighing them out, checking the temperature of the water, brewing for a precisely measured amount of time.

You still remember the look on his face when you said it all tasted like hot leaf water to you.

Because, of course, as one of Taehyung’s best friends and his roommate, you’re inevitably swept up in everything he does. You’re used to the weirdly acrid smell of photo development fluid and how cold dark rooms can get. You use phrases like chiaroscuro and sfumato to describe the simplest things after listening to Taehyung do the same for so long. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve tripped over his saxophone case when he leaves it lying around the apartment. You regularly wear the baggy t-shirt with the face that Taehyung had painted on it—even if you still refer to it as the Squidward-House-Shirt despite the fact you know he was inspired by Basquiet and Schiele and not the Easter Island themed stone head that Squidward lives in.

You don’t mind getting dragged along with whatever he does, honestly; you don’t have time to attend every class, but go with him when you can. It’s always good to expand your horizons. You also love watching Tae’s face whenever he learns something new, the various expressions that flit across his features—from wide eyed excitement and eyebrow raising astonishment to the more solemn side that appears whenever he’s taking something in and thinking deeply about it, turning it over in his mind, mulling on it.

(You love watching Tae’s face all the time, actually, but that’s a whole other can of worms you’d rather keep shut.)

However, the latest course he’s signed up for is not one you’d been expecting.

“Massage therapy?” Your face twists in equal parts confusion and surprise.

Taehyung’s dropped this latest nugget of information while you’re cooking, trying to fry some rice while also peering at the phone screen that’s been thrust into your face. You’re not bad at multitasking, per se, but Taehyung’s iPhone is drifting so close that you’re almost cross-eyed and it’s blocking you from seeing what’s going on in the pan.

“I had a coupon,” he says, as if that explains everything. (It doesn’t.)

“Scooch,” you say, and he immediately moves so you can turn the gas off.

“Jiminie and Jungkookie say that my massages help with dance, and that's just from Youtube tutorials.” Taehyung continues to talk as you bustle around the tiny kitchen. He’s already set the table so now he’s free to watch you finish doing the rest of the work. “And Joon-hyung says I have the perfect hands for it.”

You fumble with the pan as you’re scooping the steaming rice into a large bowl, only just managing to save food from scattering everywhere. You’ve thought about Taehyung’s hands a lot, about how large and long fingered and beautiful they are, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Really? Huh. That’s nice.” You stare at the pan, fixated on getting every grain of rice so you can avoid looking at Taehyung’s face. And hands. Which are still cupped around his phone. Which looks so small in his big, pretty grip.

Jesus Christ.

“It means I can give you massages if you ever start to get tense.” Taehyung sounds pleased, lovely grin on his face at the prospect of being able to rub his hands over you. As if that isn’t going to make every single one of your muscles lock up and turn you into some sort of coiled rope of a human being, which is the complete opposite of what a massage is supposed to achieve.

“Great.” Despite your inner turmoil, your voice is level and steady as you meticulously scrape the last grain of rice into the bowl, chasing the tiny fleck of white around the huge pan. Scrape, scrape, scrape. “Sounds fabulous. Can’t wait.”

Of course Taehyung would sign up to learn something that he could use to help his friends. He’s so big-hearted and loving. Big-hearted and loving and kind and funny and affectionate and beautiful and deep-voiced and so entirely overwhelming in every single way imaginable.

You do what you always do when confronted yet again with your all-consuming crush—you bottle that shit the fuck up until he’s not in the room.

And then you have a miniature breakdown at Pickles.

“I am going to die,” you whisper-scream. “He’s going to offer to massage me and he’s going to get a bottle of massage oil out and he’s going drizzle it onto his massive hands and I am going to fucking die.”

The bearded dragon cocks his head as he stares at you. Taehyung had come home with the reptile one day, tank and all, saying that someone on Facebook had been giving him away because they were moving house and could they just look after him for a little while, please, pretty please? Until they found a good home for him? Please?

That was over a year ago. (You’ve always been bad at saying no to Taehyung.)

“I hate my life,” you lament to the lizard, but then you hear the noisy flush of the toilet and know that Taehyung is going to emerge from the bathroom soon, so you have to wrap this miniature meltdown up pronto. “I wish I was a bearded dragon too, you know. All you do is get fed and sit under the heat bulb. Your life is so easy. You don’t even know what capitalism is.”

The silence you get from Pickles is far more support than you get from your human friends once you tell them. Yoongi just raises his eyebrows while Seokjin and Hoseok laugh outright in your face, just like they always do when you cry to them about Taehyung.

You need new friends. These ones are defective. (If only you’d kept the receipt so you could return them.)

“We learned how to do neck and shoulder massages today!” Taehyung says brightly after the first session.

You hum in response. You’re rewatching Pacific Rim together, cuddled up against Taehyung’s side, and you don’t have to turn your head to know what expression is on his face. There’ll be that little upturn to his lips, happiness at learning something new. That warmth in his eyes at being able to share it with you, even if you couldn't be there with him. Those little freckles on his face, under his eye, his nose, his lip; the one you’ve imagined kissing more times than you can count.

“My teacher says I have a natural talent with my hands,” he adds, and you’re so grateful that you can blame your sudden intake of breath on the scene that’s playing on the screen, as high stakes as it is.

“That’s nice,” you say, and mentally pat yourself on the back at keeping the strain out of your voice. You've had a lot of practice at this. “I’m not surprised, though. You’ve always been good at doing things with them.”

That’s not a euphemism. Taehyung’s always so careful when he makes things; you’d learned how to fold different origami patterns together, matching crane for crane, lotus for lotus, and he’d always been so delicate with his fingers. He’s always so careful and considerate with you, too, fingers splayed wide across your shoulder as he squeezes you closer to his side, leaving you breathless.

“I wish you could come too.” Taehyung sounds disappointed. “We always have so much fun together.”

For the first time in your life you’re grateful that your manager at Olive Chicken is such a hardass and won’t let you swap shifts, so you’d had to miss signing up for the massage course with Taehyung—because you know there’s no way you’d be able to keep it together if there was some sort of tandem practice in class or whatever. Your crush on him is filled with equal parts of tenderness and lust and you’re well aware of that. You’d rest your hands on the soft skin of Taehyung’s shoulders and back, the lust would overwhelm you, and you’d immediately burst into flames like some sort of demon stepping over the threshold of a church.

Why oh why did God have to make Kim Taehyung so hot?

Why oh why did God have to make you so… not?

You know Taehyung doesn’t see you in a romantic light at all. You’re grateful for this deep, platonic relationship you have, and you love him to pieces, but holy hell is it hard to walk around with Kim Taehyung looking the way he does and wanting to jump his bones while simultaneously being aware that it’s never going to happen. Whenever he smiles at you, or touches you, or holds you, it’s in exactly the same way as he treats any of his friends—and as happy as you are to be one of those friends, it also kind of kills you inside.

(Because you know you don’t have a chance, have never had a chance, and will never have a chance.)

The idea of offering to massage Taehyung is one that makes you want to melt into a puddle of horny goo. But when he offers to massage you, it’s because you’re a convenient practice partner who he’s comfortable with. It’s no big deal. You could strip naked and slather yourself up in oil and stand in front of him with your bosoms heaving and say ‘Have at me, big boy’ and Taehyung would say: ‘Sweet! A chance to practice deep tissue massage! Gee, thanks for being such a great pal!’

The kind of deep tissue you want Taehyung to massage is very different to whatever he’s talking about.

… Anyway.

You manage to avoid Taehyung using his apparently magic fingers on you for a surprising amount of time, though you’re kept up to date with his progress, because he shares everything with you and tells you about everything and you always, always listen. Because, more than being your crush, he’s one of your best friends and you love him.

Which is why you try your best to be gentle, graciously refusing his offer of a shoulder massage after he sees you wincing, even if with anyone else you’d just tell them to back off with zero hesitation.

“It’s fine,” you say, flapping a hand at him. “I just slept on it funny.”

“A massage would help! It won’t take long, I promise. Five minutes? Please?”

Taehyung’s looking at you with those big puppy eyes of his, pleading. You waver. You’re torn between being steadfast and avoiding a situation you’ve literally had nightmares about (Taehyung had offered to massage you, and you’d said yes, but then you’d fallen over as you were walking to him and suddenly a lasagne had appeared in your hands and you’d spilled it all down your shirt and he’d pointed and laughed and laughed and you’d felt so embarrassed that you’d woken up, cheeks burning), but then he pouts and you give in like the spineless and lovesick fool that you are.

“Five minutes,” you say, and Taehyung nods emphatically, looking pleased.

(You have the backbone of a chocolate éclair.)

You send quiet thanks to whatever God is listening when he doesn’t ask you to take your top off and doesn’t break out a bottle of scented oil. Instead he just asks for you to straddle a chair, clutching a plushie against your chest to cushion where it leans against the backrest, and tells you to get comfy.

“Just relax,” he says, as you desperately try to remember how your body works and coax it to relax like Taehyung wants you to. You fail miserably. You feel like a ball of rubber bands, each muscle a layer of tighter and tighter elastic that’s circled around you. “Lean forwards a little?”

At least Taehyung can’t see your face from this angle. You have no idea what sort of expression is twisting your features; consternation and horrified anticipation, probably. You're basically throttling your plushie, taking out your tension and frustration on the poor thing, Rilakkuma's placid face morphing into a twisted expression of sympathy under your grasping fingers.

“Perfect,” Taehyung says. The sound of praise in his deep voice has your insides turning into overheated syrup, hot and thick, dripping down and pooling between your legs. You hate yourself. Getting turned on by the most innocuous words from your best friend, really? Get it together.

The second you feel Taehyung's warm hands touch the back of your neck, your shoulders hunch up faster than a whiplash, a turtle sucking its head into its shell. Your friend laughs.

“This is the opposite of relaxing,” he says, voice warm with amusement.

“You surprised me.” You dig your nails into Rilakkuma's soft brown fur. Taehyung just thinks you're not used to being massaged, not that you're being weird because it's him that's touching you. Because he touches you a lot. He’s just never done it like this. “Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he replies, unruffled and oblivious. “Let me try again?”

You bite your lip, desperately trying to quell the mix of arousal and tension that’s churning in your stomach, begging your muscles to unwind. You’ve kept your crush a secret from him for this long, you can keep that energy up. (You have to keep that energy up.) “Um. Okay.”

You’re still tense when Taehyung puts his hands on you again. The touch is warm through your clothes, firm but careful, digging into the sharp line of tension laid across your shoulders; despite the way your heart is threatening to launch itself out of your chest, you start to loosen up, because holy shit that feels nice, actually.

You melt against Rilakkuma and smother the bear's face in your chest. “Your teacher wasn’t kidding when they said that you’re good with your hands,” you mumble.

You’ve never gotten a proper massage before but it feels so damn good that you can’t help but unwind, turning to jelly at the confident presses of Taehyung’s fingers and palms into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder. A little sigh spills past your lips when Taehyung starts to work at the part that’s been twinging after you lay crookedly on it, limbs akimbo in your sleep after a long night at work. “Oh, right there, Tae.”

Taehyung goes still for just a second before continuing, trailing his fingers over your shirt. “Here?”

Your eyes have drifted shut so you can focus on the sensation of that tension being pulled out of your body. “Yeah, right there,” you repeat, massaged into a state of lazy euphoria. The breath you let out is long and deep, catching in the back of your throat at a particularly firm rub of Taehyung’s hands; if you weren’t so blissed out you might be embarrassed at how much the noise you make is like a moan, but as it is, you don’t even notice. You just let out a little sound of discontent when Taehyung’s fingers stutter in their motions, displeased that he’s stopped even for a second.

By the time the massage is over, you’re so relaxed that you feel like you could melt into the floor, a wobbly puddle of unwound muscles and loose limbs. It’s official. You’re a massage convert.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes flutter open as you lean away from Rilakkuma so you can turn around. They’re the first coherent words you’ve spoken for a while; small sighs and sounds have been dripping from your lips and it’s only now that you’re able to regain your breath. “Tae, that was amazin—”

You’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s back as he power walks away, steps rapid, a little shaky, awkward. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

“I need to wash my hands,” he says without looking at you, before the door slams shut.

You don’t remember Tae telling you about how quickly you have to wash your hands after finishing a massage. But, thinking about it, you suppose it makes sense—you know, with massaging multiple clients or whatever—even if it’s surprising exactly how fast he’d hoofed it away from you. It sounds like he’s switched both taps on full blast as well, noisy even through the wooden door, and judging from how long he’s in there, he’s being very thorough. Hand washing must be a lot more important than you’d realised.

Once Taehyung emerges, his face is a little flushed, cheeks a soft red. You wonder if the hot water tap is playing up again and filling your dinky bathroom with hot steam, and make a mental note to look into it. You smile at Taehyung from your perch on the sofa, Rilakkuma plopped on your lap, smile spread across your features; one that Taehyung returns, as pink-faced as he is.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?”

“So much better, honestly,” you admit. It’s incredible. He hasn’t even finished the course yet and he's already this good. He really does have magic hands.

“I’ll have to give you massages more often,” Taehyung says, though the end of the sentence trembles a little. He must be light-headed after all the steam in the bathroom.

The thought of more massages doesn’t fill you with as much mind-numbing trepidation as it might have earlier, utterly languid as you flop across the sofa, muscles uncoiled after the lovely touch of Taehyung’s even lovelier hands. No wonder people rave about spa days if they leave you feeling like this. Maybe if you’d been staring at Taehyung in the eye when he’d been touching you, then you’d feel a lot more awkward—as it is, it’s no worse than usual. Your crush is still all-encompassing but you also got a massage out of it, so.

“Sounds great.” This time you don’t even have to fake your excitement. “Now come sit your butt down so we can order some takeout and decide what to watch.”

When you bend down to speak to Pickles later, the bearded dragon is lolling on his favourite branch. “There’s still a high chance that I’m going to die,” you say in a low voice, before you flick the lights off so the lizard can sleep. “But he hasn’t broken out the oils yet, so I think I’ll be okay for now.”

Your luck doesn’t last.

“Strawberry and champagne, lychee martini, mint mojito, white chocolate, or tropical coconut?”

You look up from where you’re painting your toenails. “Huh?”

Taehyung bundles into the room and throws himself onto your bed, flopping on his belly and ignoring the way the mattress is jostled. You, of course, are used to his antics, which is why you’d swept your open bottle of nail polish up before he could spill it everywhere.

“What do you think sounds best?”

“Well, that depends,” you say, squinting at your toes and carefully sweeping the polish over the freshly buffed nails. “For candles, I think they sound pretty nice. For sauces to pour over a steak, I’d say I’d give them all a hard pass. What’s it for?”

“Massage oils,” Taehyung says blithely, too busy staring at his phone to see you muffle a curse when your hand slips and you paint your entire little toe blue. “I was wondering which you think sounds best.”

“Oh. Uh.” You fumble to clean your toe and salvage the now-terrible pedicure you’re trying to give yourself. It was only a matter of time before massage oils were going to become part of your life. Taehyung never goes into things half-hearted, so of course he’s going to invest in oils, too. God’s sake. You can never catch a break, can you? “Why these ones in particular?”

Taehyung pauses for a suspiciously long time, but it gives you the chance to furiously rub at your toe while he’s distracted. “We get a free bottle from the course,” he says eventually.

Huh. Okay. “That’s pretty neat. What was the last one? Coconut? Stick with the basics, can’t go wrong with that, right?”

“Coconut is always tasty,” Taehyung comments absently, and you glance up from your Smurf toe.

“Agreed, but it’s not like you’re about to eat massage oil, are you?”

Taehyung pauses, and then buries his face into his phone screen—suddenly very intent on rereading the list of ingredients in each bottle, it seems. “No, of course not, you’re right,” he mumbles.

He’s almost finished the course. He’s not going to be an accredited masseuse or anything, but you definitely think he could be, if he wanted to—you’ve never had less tension in your shoulders and neck in your life. Taehyung always eases his way into your personal space anyway, casual and effortless after years of friendship, but now you’re used to his fingers sliding over the back of your neck, a gliding touch, sending tense little goosebumps over your skin while simultaneously making you melt.

“It’s pretty cool that you get free stuff, though.” Your toe is clean, thankfully, no longer blue. “And not just, like, a generic bottle of oil or something. They all sound really fancy. I didn’t realise that you could get massage oils that were scented like that?”

Taehyung makes a non-committal noise, which is uncharacteristic of him, but you’re too focused on repainting your final nail to pay it too much mind, letting out a loud huff of triumph when you’re done.

“Get me a bag of shrimp crackers, please?” You have a sudden craving but you don’t want to penguin waddle to the kitchen and risk getting anything on your wet nails. “Ya girl is hungry.”

“Got it.” Taehyung rolls off the bed without protest. You’re used to his antics, and he’s used to yours, indulging you whenever you feel lazy or want him to do something for you. “You need me to feed you?”

“I wasn’t going to use my toes to feed myself,” you laugh, but Taehyung ends up feeding them to you anyway.

When you recount the list to Seokjin later, his face crumples in a way that’s equal parts offended and disgusted. “They all sound terrible,” he says. “White chocolate should stay in chocolate form and not be turned into an oil. Why does massage oil even have to smell like anything?”

You’re both holed up in the tiny smoking nook behind Olive Chicken; neither of you smoke, but it’s a good excuse to go outside and get fresh air during longer shifts.

“Hey, don’t ask me, I’m not the one who’s taking the course. I think lychee martini sounds interesting, though.”

“Agree to disagree.” Seokjin unwraps one of the complimentary chocolates the restaurant gives to diners with their bill, swallowing it whole. “Besides, we all know Taehyung could approach you with dirty, used fryer oil and you’d let him dip you in it.”

You slap the next chocolate out of his hand before it reaches his mouth. He’s unmoved and simply plucks another from his pocket, which is apparently bulging with them.

“Yoongichi,” Jin says, calling to the delivery boy, who’s just appeared from the dark like some tired-eyed spectre of fried chicken. “Tell me this. If I were to ask you what smell of massage oil you’d prefer, what—”

“I would say that I really could not care less.” Yoongi flops down on one of the rickety fold-out chairs before silently accepting a chocolate from Seokjin’s stash. “And then I’d ask why you’re asking me in the first place, seeing as you’re the one using it, not me. If Taehyung’s asking what massage oil you’d prefer, Y/n, it’s because he wants to rub it all over you specifically.” Yoongi munches on the chocolate, already filling in the blanks without needing to be told the context. You really are that transparent, huh. “Please, we’ve been over this.”

Jin pouts. “You ruined my set up. I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Oh no.” Yoongi remains blank-faced. “How terrible.”

“I hate both of you,” you say. “I’m going to tell Pickles how mean you are.”

“I bet if that lizard could talk, he’d tell you how tired he was of you two dancing around each other, just like the rest of us,” Yoongi says.

There’s no dancing around, though, no matter what your friends say. Well. Not on Taehyung’s end anyway. You’re out here doing the fandango, castanets and all, while Taehyung just stands stock still, oblivious.

You let out an incredibly long sigh. Seokjin hands you a sympathetic chocolate.

The massage oil doesn’t make an appearance in your life for a little while, though. The end of the course comes and goes, Taehyung proudly flapping the laminated certificate at you, wobble-wobble-wobble, filling the apartment with the sound of rippling plastic. But no coconut oil.

The scent of ‘tropical coconut’ has started to haunt your dreams, in a way that’s both good and bad; when you wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, it’s not because you’re having nightmares, let’s just put it like that. It’s like there’s an invisible countdown that you can’t trace and it’s only a matter of time before it ticks over and the shoulder massages (that you’ve gotten very comfortable with) edge into something different. Taehyung’s going to innocently offer to give you a backrub and uncap that bottle of scented oil and you’re going to explode into a mess of putty under his hands.

Well… then again… you had been worried about that with all the shoulder rubs. Now look at you. You weather those like a champ. Sure, your skin tingles and you run hot and you think about the sensation of Taehyung’s hands gliding over you whenever you’re alone, but you’re basically fine. Your friend who just so happens to also be the great love of your life remains none the wiser.

You bet a full back rub would feel great after a long week.

Which is why when Taehyung steps into the apartment with a look on his face that you immediately recognise as tiredness, you sort of wish you knew how to massage people, too.

He falls into your arms with little fanfare. It’s been one of those days, one of those ones that everyone gets, even Taehyung—he’s usually so Switched On and Exuberant and Alive, and people don’t seem to realise that even he feels exhausted, sometimes.

“You alright, bubs?” You can’t massage him but you can rub his back soothingly, let him snuffle against your neck. Sometimes you think about that little space between your chin and collarbones as Taehyung’s, a hollow that’s perfect for him to press his face into, hair tickling your chin as he curls up into you. His and his alone. “Did something happen?”

He just shakes his head.

“Okay,” you say.

(Close proximity and skin on skin with Taehyung doesn’t always have your pulse rising and your heart racing. Sometimes it’s just this: quiet and soft, your heart bright with fierce affection for this boy, the only thought in your mind that you want him to be happy, forever.)

The long silence is broken by the sound of Taehyung heaving in a breath before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and low, far less energetic than his usual self.

“Nothing to thank me for, Tae,” you reply. “Always here for you. You know that, right?”

He doesn’t respond straight away. He just burrows closer, draped over you, until he murmurs, barely audible. “Why?”

Your face twists. “Why, what? Why am I always here for you?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung squeezes himself impossibly closer, skin warm against yours, forehead pressed to the skin of your neck. You can’t see his expression from this angle.

“Because you’re one of my best friends and I love you,” you answer, immediately. You don’t even have to think about it. “Because you’re important to me and if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. I’ll celebrate the good things in your life with you, and I’ll be at your side during the bad times, just like you are with me. Please don’t ever forget how much I love you, okay?”

There’s a pause, and then it feels like all the tension leaves Taehyung’s body, slumping his whole body weight against you. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I love you too. Thank you,” he says again. You just reply by squeezing his shoulders.

He’s a little quieter for a few days after that. You’re not sure why, because he’d perked up after a lazy evening of lying around and eating too many snacks, flopped against you like an oversized, clinging starfish—but you’re gentle with him nonetheless.

(Well. You’re always gentle with him. It just takes you half a second to fold in the face of his whims, rather than a whole, full second.)

So when the dreaded bottle of oil finally appears, you’re far less ready to fight off Taehyung’s insistence on a full body massage, caught off guard after days of indulging him. Fuck.

“You’ve had a long week!” Taehyung insists as you scrabble your way over the sofa’s backrest so you can hide behind it, clutching a cushion to your chest. “You need to relax!”

Without looking you fling the cushion over the sofa. Judging from the fact that Taehyung doesn’t make a sound, you’ve missed. “I was feeling perfectly relaxed until you started yelling at me about it! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me being relaxed?”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Oh, crap. Maybe you did hit him with the cushion?

You pop up from behind the sofa. Nope. It's an embarrassing distance away from Taehyung, who’s got that surprisingly large bottle of oil held loosely in his hands. There’s an expression on his face that you can’t decipher; a little crestfallen, a little unsure, but there’s something else there, too, something you can’t put a name to.

“Taehyung?”

“I just… wanted to help,” he says. “You’re always there for me when I’m not feeling great, and you calm me down, and I wanted to do the same for you.”

You immediately feel like the worst human being alive. Take the feeling you get whenever you accidentally step on an animal’s tail, multiply it by infinity, and that’s only just a drop in the ocean of awful, awful guilt that you’re drowning in.

“Oh, Tae,” you say. Your voice comes out so much softer and sweeter than you mean it to, but you can't help it. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. It’s really nice of you to be so concerned. You just surprised me. You do help me relax and your massages are great.” (You tell him that often enough that he should know it, but it never hurts to repeat a compliment.)

His face lifts. It’s like the sun bursting forth from the clouds after heavy rain, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes, blinded by the brightness and beauty. Kim Taehyung is so unfairly gorgeous (but what else is new?). “So I can give you a massage?”

Despite the fact the prospect makes you want to fling yourself into space, when you’re faced with Taehyung’s dark eyes and wide smile and large, warm hands, you cave, because of course you do. If, way back when you’d first been frying up that kimchi rice and letting Taehyung thrust his phone into your face, you’d been told you’d end up in this position, you would have laughed outright. Haha, yeah, sure, like you’d be stupid enough to let yourself be wrangled into such a vulnerable state in front of Taehyung, nowhere to run, helpless under his fingers. Not.

But here you are. Whipped for Kim Taehyung, forever and always.

The pastel blue towels under your stomach and chest are soft as they shield you from the cold, hard floor. You’re incredibly aware of how chilly the apartment feels, air prickling against your bare skin; you shift to try and get comfortable, glancing over your shoulder to fiddle with the towel that’s draped over your hips and ass, making sure it’s covering everything. Taehyung insists on authenticity (as if you’re not lying on the floor of your apartment rather than on a massage table) and he says that it’s normal to be completely naked for a full-body massage, even underneath any towels that are covering you up.

Authenticity is also why he’s in the other room, warming up the massage oil, because that’s apparently a thing?

(You’re going to die.)

It doesn’t matter that Taehyung will only be able to see the back of your head, your shoulder blades, the small of your back, a slip of your thighs, your calves. None of these things are especially scandalous; all the parts of your body that someone might find more interesting are out of sight, pressed against the floor or hidden under a layer of Egyptian cotton microfibres.

And yet you can’t help but be hyperaware of how you’re entirely unclothed. Even if it doesn’t bother Taehyung—what with, you know, the fact he’s not interested in you like that and doesn’t find you attractive at all (sigh)—embarrassment creeps hot and uncomfortable under your skin.

It just feels so crazy intimate to be laid out like this, even if people do this all the time, happily strip down to let professionals rub the tension out of their body.

(Then again, most people aren’t best friends with their masseuses and haven’t harboured long, one-sided crushes on them, either.)

Just breathe. You can do this. You love the shoulder massages that Taehyung’s been giving you; just think of this as a shoulder massage.

… A shoulder massage that involves warm oil, near-nakedness, and Taehyung’s hands sliding all over you.

… You are going to have a very long venting session with Pickles after all this.

You’re so distracted by your own self pity and distress that you don’t register the sound of Taehyung entering the room; the little pause when he steps over the threshold, feet stuttering, just for a moment. It’s only when he’s kneeling down that you notice his presence, body jolting from surprise before you let out a slip of high laughter.

“Jesus, Tae,” you say. In any other circumstance, you’d be clutching your chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He sounds genuinely apologetic.

Your cheek is pillowed on your arms. When you turn to look at your best friend you immediately regret it; he’s settled back on his ankles, knees spread wide, and you come eye-to-eye with his crotch.

In an effort to look away from his clothed dick, your gaze flies up to his face, which might be even worse. He has this intense look in his eyes, and wow, alright, you’ve never been able to see Taehyung’s face as he’s been massaging you, but you never realised exactly how seriously he seems to take it, judging from his expression.

(Do all massage therapists look like that when they work?)

“That’s alright.” You’re a little breathless, but you’re going to blame that on how your boobs are smooshed into the floor, and not on anything else, nuh uh. Shoulder massage. It’s a shoulder massage. It’s just like a full bodied shoulder massage. (Maybe if you repeat it to yourself often enough then you’ll actually start to believe it.) “Uh. Do you need me to… do anything? Or do I just lie here?”

Taehyung’s expression lightens a little at the uncertainty in your tone, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “You’re perfect right where you are,” he says, and then he reaches for the bottle of oil.

You turn your head away again, cheeks burning. There’s no way you’ll be able to handle the visual of him slicking his fingers and palms up. “Cool,” you say, voice only a little strained. “Coolcoolcoolcool.”

(It’s not cool.)

You don’t have a visual, but you do get the auditory experience thanks to the relative silence in the apartment. Goosebumps ripple down the back of your neck and trail down your spine at the sound of Tae’s hands sliding against each other, thoroughly coated in the warmed oil, and you’re so glad that you can blame it on the chill in the air.

At first, it’s okay. Taehyung starts at the parts of your body that are used to receiving his attention, though it’s different without the barrier of clothing in the way, not to mention how easily his palms glide over you, the air full of the light scent of coconut. It’s different, but manageable, and you think you just might be okay; as always, his touches are firm but careful, and your body is used to this by now, relaxing.

But. The second you feel Taehyung’s touch between your shoulder blades, you stiffen with a shiver. The oil is the perfect temperature against your skin, but you’ve always had a sensitive back; you can’t help but clench your fists, digging your fingers into your palms. Relax. Just breathe.

“You’ve got a lot of tension here.” Taehyung’s voice is low as he digs the heel of his palm into the dip of your spine.

It’s because you’re touching me there, you think to yourself, but just let out a non-committal hum of agreement instead.

You feel Taehyung's hands, a repeated sliding motion between your shoulder blades; the tension starts to leak out of you again, but your breath hitches in your throat at how you're pressed downwards and into the cotton towels beneath you, nipples hardening against them.

Thank God you're on your front so Tae can't see what effect he's having on you.

“Better?”

Taehyung's voice is always deep, but you'd swear it was even deeper in this moment, pitched low. Maybe that’s because the sound of blood pumping is filling your ears so it’s hard to discern. At this point, who even knows? Not you, that’s for sure.

“Yep.” Why are you so breathless? You haven’t moved at all, but you sound like you’ve just run the 100m sprint, winded and weak. “So much better.”

You regret agreeing to this. You are so out of your depth and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide exactly how much this is affecting you and you want to collapse in on yourself and shrivel up like a sundried tomato, tiny and wrinkly and underwhelming.

Taehyung shifts to reach more of you and you squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t come face first with his crotch again, shielding yourself from the view of his loose linen trousers stretched almost taut with how wide his knees are. It’s both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you’re saved from aforementioned view, but a curse because your sensation of touch is heightened, and all you’re aware of is his hands sliding down your sides. You’d swear those fingers were so long he could circle your waist with ease.

(Massages are meant to relax you and yet you’ve never felt so tense in your life.)

Taehyung clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I can’t get a good angle like this,” he mutters.

Before you can think anything or say anything, you become aware of the sound of moving and shifting and—

Your eyes fly open. Taehyung’s straddling your thighs, heavy and warm, and you suck in a breath so sharp and fast you can feel your chest expand, brain full of the screaming clang of warning bells. There’s no way this is a normal masseuse thing. There’s no way. It’s intimate and entirely too physical and there’s absolutely no way that this is something Taehyung learned in class.

(What is he doing?)

But then any coherent thought in your brain slips when his hands settle on you again.

They so, so lightly brush the hem of the towel that preserves your modesty, and you can’t help the full-body shiver that wracks through you. You suck your lips into your mouth, swallowing down the noise that threatens to bubble up in your throat. There’s the sensation of fingers trailing up the line of your spine, feather light, smoothed by the slide of oil, and you feel like molten lava, burning hot and bright.

“Taehyung.” Your voice is high and faint.

His fingers splay down your ribcage and run down your sides, confident and smooth, warm with that coconut-scented oil, and you’re dying, you’re living; you want to disappear, you never want this to end.

“Taehyung,” you repeat. Your voice shakes.

He hums, low and indulgent. “Yes?”

“M-my thighs,” you stammer, unable to articulate yourself. Why are you on my thighs, oh God, you’re so warm and heavy on top of me, oh God oh God oh God.

Taehyung completely misunderstands you. “Oh? Of course.” He sounds nonchalant. “I’ll massage those next.”

You can feel the drag of his linen trousers against your skin as he moves down to rest on your calves, and hear the bottle open as Taehyung drizzles more oil over his hands, far more than he could possibly need. His palms feel so broad and warm against the smoothness of your thighs, touches firm and confident as he digs his fingers into the muscle, and, oh, fuck, this is, this is too much—

Your legs jump when Taehyung hitches the towel up, just a little, baring more of your body.

“Fuck.” You can't keep quiet any longer. “Tae, I’m fine, I’m feeling way less tense now.”

He’s still, for a moment, before his hands slide up the back of your thighs. “Are you sure? You want me to stop?”

It’s only then that you realise how deeply Taehyung is breathing, fast and low, voice rough and gravelled. His fingers rest in wait, warm and slick with oil; you’re so close to losing any modicum of modesty, only one motion away from that towel being rucked high enough that there’s nothing protecting you from Taehyung’s touch and eyes.

“I haven’t finished yet, though,” he continues, digging his thumbs into your skin as he pulls his hands down your thighs, mindlessly following the motions he’s been taught. “There’s still more to go.”

You could twist around to look at him but you’re almost afraid to look at his face, afraid of what you’d find there. He sounds as affected as you are, but there’s absolutely no way. There’s no way.

“You don’t need to do the whole massage if I’m feeling relaxed, right?”

(Because you’re feeling so relaxed right now, of course, and not like you’re about to go supernova and burst into heat and light. Absolutely.)

(But.)

(But. Taehyung’s hands settle at the back of your knees, swiping the sensitive skin with his thumbs. You can’t see his face, but you can feel something in that touch, something more than skin deep, like it’s sinking into you, through skin and muscle and bone, in in in, settling inside you, a flicker of—of—)

“Want to do this perfectly for you,” he murmurs. You clench your hands at the husky note in his voice, nails digging so hard into your palms it hurts. “You deserve the best. I want you to feel good.”

He must be able to see your back rise and fall as you breathe in sharply.

“Taehyung.” Almost pleading.

“Yes, love?”

You suck in another sharp breath. The pet name sounds so soft and sweet in his mouth, somehow, even with the heated edge to his voice. One that’s definitely there. You’re not imagining it.

(You’re not.)

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he continues.

Before you can think, you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”

You’re trembling. Taehyung’s still heavy and warm across the back of your calves, sliding one hand to the inside of a knee and up the soft skin of your inner thighs. You instinctively shift them apart, as far as you can with Taehyung trapping your legs, and, oh, his hand is going higher, oh—

His hand is so big, cupping your overheated sex. It’s hard to tell where the oil ends and your own arousal begins, flushed wet and hot; when he dips his middle finger between your lower lips, long and gentle and firm, you let out a noise you didn’t realise you were capable of. The angle is off, a little awkward, the motions of Taehyung’s fingers stifled by how you’re lying flush to the ground, but God, you’re so turned on it barely matters.

You’re hyperaware of everything. The soft touch of air on the cooling oil across your skin. The fall of the towel, bunched around your waist, slowly slipping to one side. Taehyung’s hand, his fingertips easing through the heat of you, sliding over your clit, over your entrance, slow and soft and amazing.

“Again,” you plead. “Again, Tae, please.”

“Feels good?” He asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, cheek still pillowed against your arm.

“So good,” you say. “But I want more, please, Tae.”

“Anything you want,” he murmurs.

Taehyung’s hand shifts between your legs again, so hot, so big, so reverent. The slide is smooth as his fingers press into your folds, practically gliding. You twist beneath him, letting out a noise of displeasure when he draws his hand away, but then he lifts off your calves. You let him thrust your legs apart before he resettles between them.

Just as you’re distracted with the towel being tugged away from your hips, baring you entirely, Taehyung slides a finger into your weeping cunt.

You whine. It's so long. Now that your calves aren’t trapped, there’s nothing to stop you from rutting back against his fingers. He splays his other hand over the soft flesh of your ass, encouraging the rolling motion of your hips, and you’re gasping, wanton in your noises of desire and pleasure. One finger becomes two, and then three, Taehyung’s voice a low undercurrent to your stuttered moans as he presses them as deep as he can.

“Just like that, angel,” he breathes. “Want you to feel good, keep making those pretty noises, let me know how good it is—”

“Taehyung,” you whine, dragging the syllables of his name out when he curls his fingers inside you, so amazing, hitting you in all the right places.

“Baby.” He sounds wrecked, words sliding together, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You’re so hot n’ wet, fuck. So perfect. Just like that, keep moving like that.”

You can hear the slick sounds of his thrusts into you. He’s already learned what you like, twisting his fingers in a way that leaves you breathless; they’re so fucking long, sliding into your greedy cunt with ease, reaching so much deeper than your own can. His pretty lovely hands are on you, inside you, and you’re heady at the thought.

“There, Tae, don’t stop, please, p-please.” The coil twists tighter in between your legs, a taut thread that’s ready to snap. He listens, repeating the motion that’s pulling you closer to the edge, eyes wide, staring at the way you’re writhing underneath him; the way the oil on your back and legs shimmers in the light, the evidence of his touch all over you, shining. “Tae, oh, God, right there, yes, yes, yes—”

Your entire body goes tense and then you’re cumming around Taehyung’s fingers, clenching your thighs together, trapping him inside as you buck your hips. You grind back against his hand, a loud moan falling from your lips, drowning out the noise of awe that Taehyung makes when he feels your walls pulsate around him. You're warm and tight and wet, arousal flooding thick against his skin, and he lets out a stuttered groan, fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, feeling every wave of pleasure that rocks through your core.

You’re panting by the time you settle back down and barely make a sound when Taehyung drags his fingers out of you. When he leans down the oil on your skin feels tacky against his clothes, material sticking to you, chest to back, hips to ass. You can feel the hot curve of him through his trousers, his cock heavy, getting harder—and it feels sososo good.

Taehyung’s face is so close, now, chin hooked over your shoulder. Even though you can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against you, the smile on his face is so gentle. Your heart thrums in your chest.

“So cute n' pretty,” he says, and presses his nose to the soft curve of your cheek. Rather than coconut, all you can smell is his shampoo, familiar and homely and heady. “All over. God, I can’t believe you’d let me touch you like this. I’m so lucky. Was that good, baby?”

“Yes,” you say, and then, because you’re still floating in a light haze of disbelief: “I’m the lucky one.”

Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. It’s a honeyed moment, dripping slow and sweet, even sweeter when he tilts his head forward. His lips are soft against your cheekbone, your jaw, and when you turn towards him, they’re even softer against your mouth. You can feel the shape of his smile, and it tastes so bright, small kisses that turn open mouthed, so perfect. Because you’re kissing Kim Taehyung, your Taehyung, something you’ve been dreaming about for so long, now—even if this entire situation is pretty unbelievable, honestly.

When you pull back, his eyes spark with unadulterated joy. He’s warm and heavy, pinning you down against the towels that are soft against your front; arching your spine, you lean back against the weight of Taehyung’s body, his cock fattening up through the layers of clothes that separate you. He lets out a breath of surprise before he grinds down, pressing that hard heat against you, and your cunt clenches.

“Can I finish the massage?” He asks, sounding almost eager, even with the rasp of lust in his voice. You can’t help but laugh, an affectionate giggle that has you knocking your foreheads together.

“Of course,” you say, and he catches your lips again, swallowing the last of your laughter, sweeping his tongue over your lips, inside your mouth, wet and hot and a little messy, but good.

“You need to be on your back,” Taehyung continues, slow after the kiss is broken, and, oh, okay, that has you shivering. “If you want to?”

Of course you want to.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Let me move.”

He shifts to give you room, but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the bump of the top of your spine, lips sliding against the oil that he’d rubbed there earlier, goosebumps erupting over your skin.

“So good to me,” he whispers. You don’t think he even means for you to hear it.

(It’s said without thought; not thoughtless, no, but a soft little thing that says so much. A thought that’s slipped across his mind and fallen from his lips, warm and tender. Like you’re always good to him, and he sees it, he knows it, he feels it, he thinks it, and he’s almost in disbelief about it, because you’re so good to him.)

You feel warm and languid after cumming, loose-limbed as you flop onto your back. There’s no going back now. There’s no going back from this moment, naked and vulnerable under Taehyung, nothing hidden away any more—the soft fall of your breasts, your stomach, the lines of your hips, your fingers tightening in the towels spread beneath you as Taehyung’s eyes drink you in, wide and overawed at the sight of your flushed cunt, ripe and slick and ready for him.

(There's no more hiding how much you want Taehyung to have you, body and heart alike.)

You can see the shape of your body silhouetted on his clothes, where the oil has seeped into the material from how close he’d been pressed against you. You can see just how affected he is, cock straining against the loose linen of his white trousers, and you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound you make.

“Look at you,” Taehyung breathes, kneeling between your legs. “You’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn. “Taehyung, please,” you say, embarrassed. You really aren’t, especially in comparison to model-gorgeous Kim Taehyung, eyes dark and full of heated lust, hair falling in his eyes, effortlessly beautiful, always.

“You are,” he insists. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”

Before he reaches for the massage oil, he sucks the taste of you off his fingers, sloppy and messy. Your pussy throbs at the sight. And—you were also right about the visual being too much to handle, breath catching in your throat as you watch it drip into his broad hands. His palms shine as he rubs them together, interlacing his fingers, so graceful in their motions. You’re so wet from your orgasm, only getting wetter as you stare back at Taehyung, whose gaze has been heavy on you the whole time.

He starts at your collarbones. It’s even slower than before, and you ease underneath him, revelling in the softness of his touch. He sweeps his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, circling his long fingers around your wrists before lifting one of your hands. Your eyelashes flutter as he presses a kiss to your palm, a motion so full of adoration and tenderness it steals your breath away, and you squirm, shy.

“Tae,” you whine. “You can’t just do that.”

Of course he doubles down, lifting your other hand and repeating the motion, letting his lips linger between your head line and your heart line. “I can,” he says, words warm in your cupped palm.

“I hope you didn’t do this in class.” Your voice is too weak for it to come out as the joke you mean it to be.

Taehyung just shakes his head, mouth brushing over the tips of your fingers. “Only for you,” he says. “Did the whole class for you. I wanted—wanted an excuse to touch you more,” he admits, and your heart feels like it’s going to launch itself out of your throat.

“Then touch me,” you say, trying to sound confident even if your cheeks burn.

And he does. He lets your hands drop, gliding his touch back up your arms, down your body, over your legs; he massages your thighs and calves, digs his thumbs into the arches of your feet, circling his fingers around your ankles, shackles you don’t want to escape from. You feel so relaxed and lax, somehow, even if every touch has you biting your lip, anticipation roiling in your stomach for what’s to come, Taehyung laying your legs down softly before he shifts back up, hands held out towards you��

—then he cups your breasts in his big, big hands and your back arches, fingers sliding over your nipples, glistening with coconut oil, circling them with the pads of his thumbs. You let out an embarrassing whine.

“Oh, Tae,” you beg. “More, please.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You smile at another soft, unexpected pet name, flustered, but then your eyes slide shut when Taehyung bends down to kiss your neck as he continues to run his hands over the swell of your breasts. He trails his lips over your oiled skin, shifts down, drawing a line from your neck to the valley of your chest, the hard line at the center of your ribcage.

“Tae,” you murmur, and then, feeling bold under the heat of Taehyung’s dark eyes— “Baby.”

He hums before laying another sloppy kiss against your sensitive skin. You can feel the curve of his smile in the kiss. “Yes, love?”

“Is it really okay for you to… you know… get that oil in your mouth? I don’t want you to get sick,” you say, concerned, even through the haze of your arousal. His lips shine with it, at how he’s been trailing his mouth over all the parts of your body that he’s touched.

There’s a short beat, and then Taehyung buries his head against your neck—in that little hollow that’s his, in a motion he’s done dozens of times. Except this time you’re naked and he still has fingers splayed across the soft skin of your chest, nipples dragging underneath his palms.

“You’re always so considerate.” His words are muffled against your skin. “It’s fine. It’s edible.”

“You got edible massage oil from your course?”

Taehyung hesitates. “No,” he admits. “I bought it. It’s edible and, uh. Safe for intimate use.”

You’re silent, just for a moment, and then you can’t help it. You start to laugh.

“Kim Taehyung,” you say, body shaking with amusement. “Did you buy edible massage oil that you can also use as lube?”

Taehyung pulls his face away from your neck and glances up. You’re giggling at him, and he feels so full of love and affection; he can’t help but join in, both laughing at him, loud and carefree.

“It’s why I asked which one you liked,” he confesses, once he can catch his breath.

“I can’t believe you lied to me,” you say, but you don’t mind, really, and he knows it. You lift a hand to push hair out of his face, running your fingers down his scalp. He leans into your touch with a smile, bright and lovely, before he abruptly shifts one of his hands down so he can lick a hot, wet stripe across the skin of your breast.

That stops your laughter pretty fast, surprised hiccup shifting into a broken moan when he engulfs your nipple in the heat of his mouth. “O-oh,” you gasp. “Oh, Taehyung—”

“Been thinking about this for so long.” Taehyung’s eyes are lidded and dark as he leans back, watching the way you react to his touch, arching up towards him. “Wanted to touch you like this so much.”

“Wanted it too,” you breathe. “Wanted—oh, God, Tae, fuck—”

It’s overwhelming. Not just the way Taehyung is flicking his tongue over each of your nipples, pressing his lips against your skin, no—but the idea that he’s been hoping for this, too. Each wet motion of his tongue over your pebbled skin drags pulls out of you; Taehyung’s cock twitches at a loud keen that’s drawn from your lips, a wet patch of precum seeping through his boxers and trousers, darkening the fabric, even though you haven’t touched him yet.

When you reach out to grasp him through his clothes, his hips jolt forward and he bites off a surprised gasp, cutting through the sound with his teeth. He feels long and heavy as you stroke him, thumbing over the wet patch at his tip, hot, even through all those layers between your skin and his.

“I want to feel you, Tae,” you say, staring at him. “Inside me. Please.”

His breath hitches when you tighten your fingers around his shaft and drag your hand upwards, slow and intent.

“The oil isn’t condom friendly,” he admits, abashed.

“Then you can cum in my mouth,” you reply. No hesitation.

Taehyung’s eyes are so wide, but then he smiles, eyes squeezing into crescents, mouth turning up into that lovely, broad grin of his. He looks so sweet and sincere, and you feel like you could explode, stuffed overfull with love for him.

“You really are perfect,” he says.

“Only for you,” you reply, your smile just as bright.

He lays one final kiss to your chest, above your beating heart, before he starts to strip. The oil has obviously soaked through his shirt and onto his skin because it sticks when he peels it off and carelessly throws it aside.

Just like his heart, Taehyung’s body is soft and lovely. You sit up so you can touch him properly, catching him off guard when you pull him in for a kiss—one he eagerly leans into, and without the shirt in the way you can feel the way your skin slides against his, softened with oil.

There really is no one as beautiful as Kim Taehyung. You drag your hands over him, so warm and wonderful under your palms; his chest, his cute tummy, his waist, his hips, the soft skin above his red, neglected cock. He’s radiant in his nakedness, every easing line of his body so perfect as he kneels in front of you, the flush of his skin, the heavy weight of his arousal, head shining with precum, so wet it’s practically dripping.

You lean in to kiss his neck and nip at his Adam's apple as his hands slide over your shoulder blades and down your back, the parts that make you shudder.

“Want you, Tae.” You whisper into his mouth, a soft secret that isn’t really a secret at all, not any more. “All of you.”

“Going to give you everything you want.” The words flow out of him with ease. “Everything you want.”

His chest and stomach shine with the massage oil that’s rubbed off from your own skin. You run your hands across him, and when you finally grasp his cock without the barrier of cloth in the way, he’s almost burning under your grasp, thick, his entire body shuddering when you pump his length. So sensitive to your touch.

“I’m goin’ to make you cum again,” he promises, and you love it, the way he talks when he’s losing himself. “Bet you’ll feel so good around my cock, so perfect.”

A shiver skates through your body. Taehyung’s fingers dig into your skin when he feels you trembling under his hands, and all you can think about is how you want him in you.

“Please,” you say. “Please, wanna make you feel good too—”

“Hands and knees, angel,” he rasps, and, God, yes, those words cut straight through you, sharp and electric.

Maybe you should feel embarrassed at how quickly you obey. The towels underneath you, so carefully placed at the start, perfectly flat, become rumpled as you shift into position; you arch your back, wanting to look as good as possible, and glance over your shoulder to see if it works.

Judging from the look on Taehyung’s face, it does. He looks like he’s never seen anything more awe-inspiring, eyes wide and mouth a little slack, dumbstruck. But then his jaw snaps shut and he splays his hands over the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your ass, shuffling closer to you; you feel the curve of his cock slide against your skin and you bite back a noise of need.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He ruts forward, and you can feel the wetness of his precum slicking against you, a beaded line drawn across the sheen of massage oil. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”

“Tae,” you plead, already overwhelmed with need, heart squeezing at his words.

“Just one more thing, angel, I promise.”

It’s a good thing that the bottle of massage oil is so big, considering how liberal Taehyung is with it. You gasp when he uses one hand to spread your ass and before you can react there’s a drizzle of oil falling onto your skin, down-down-down, over your cunt, dripping over your inner thighs; Taehyung catches the excess with his palms before he slicks himself up, spreading that sweet coconut over his throbbing cock.

(You wonder what it’ll taste like when you lick it off him.)

When you feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at your pussy, your entire body lights up in anticipation, nerve endings on fire, every inch of your body singing under Taehyung’s touch—and when he finally sinks in, it’s almost effortless. He’s thick and long but everything slides so easy; you gasp and he moans, both lost in how your body opens up for him, hot and wet. By the time he’s bottomed out you're a quivering mess, collapsed onto your elbows. You’re so full. You feel split open in all the best ways, wanting to draw him in impossibly deeper even so.

Taehyung is gripping your sides, hands unmoving even with the slick oil underneath them, fingers digging into your skin. He’s breathing so loud, and when you experimentally shift your hips, he bites back a noise that cuts through that breath.

“How’s it feel, love?” His words slur together in arousal, but the hand that strokes your back is slow, thoughtful. “Feel good?”

“Fuck me, Tae, baby, please,” you beg. It’s so, so so much, so good, amazing, hotter and bigger and harder than anything you’d let yourself imagine, your entire body taking Taehyung and holding him in, in, in. “Please, I need it, it feels good but I want more, please.”

When he pulls away it’s slow and torturous and he goes so far he almost slips out, cock nearly sliding out of your folds. You whine, a little shameless, mostly needy, but then—

The snap of his hips drives you forwards, towels shifting underneath as you scrabble for a hold on something. Each sharp motion of Taehyung’s body has you choking for air and letting out whimpers and gasps, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin; his hipbones meet the soft flesh of your ass, again and again, but all you can focus on is the thick heat of his cock inside you, in-out-in-out, the press of his balls against your clit, everything so wet and smooth and slick.

You can feel how you’re losing yourself to that heady place that’s golden bright with feeling, lust and sex, the rest of the world gone, unimportant. There’s nothing but this—Taehyung touching you, filling your body so well, so perfect, helping you chase that high that’s growing faster and faster, that precipice of pleasure that he’s going to throw you over again, intent on it.

One of his hands trails up your back, between that sensitive dip of your shoulder blades and into your hair, locks tangling with coconut oil before he urges you up. He doesn’t yank or pull but his hold is firm and you end up back on your hands, arms trembling as you try to keep your balance, back bowed, overwhelmed.

“Baby,” he rasps. “Oh, you’re so tight n’ hot, so pretty, fuck. You feel so good, do you feel good?”

Your answer is almost a wail, so overcome with pleasure, sensation, the glide of his hands over your shining skin, the mix of oil and arousal that drips out of you, only getting wetter with each thrust of his hips into you. “So good, o-oh God, Tae, baby, fuck, oh, theretherethere—”

“Here?”

He punctuates this with a roll of his hips, using the hand still on your hip to pull you back onto his cock as he fills you up once more, throbbing heat. He bends over you, and this time, there’s nothing stopping the skin on skin contact, the slide of his chest against your back as he kisses the soft skin behind your ear, nipping at your lobe, and that’s it, you’re gone. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth falls open as another orgasm crashes through you, legs shaking as you cum around Taehyung’s cock, grinding back against him to drag out that pleasure; the only thing holding you up is the hand still in your hair, the lips trailing up the side of your bared neck, the hard cock inside you, keeping you against him, so many points of connection with Taehyung.

(His chest pressed against your back, heart beating so hard you can feel it, your own heart moving in tandem, matching him.)

He’s been whispering filth to you, heated praise and love, how good you feel, how beautiful you are, what it’s like to see you like this, touch you like this, have you like this. Lovely, pretty, perfect, gorgeous, hot n’ wet n’ tight, fuck, love, oh.

You’re still shivering, the final pulses of your orgasm curling through you with each unintentional shift of Taehyung’s hips, the drag of his length inside your inner walls. You can feel something dripping out of you; oil, cum, you don't know, but fuck, it feels so so good.

“Oh, God,” you say. Breathless. “Oh, Taehyung, oh.”

“Pretty darling,” he murmurs. He swivels his hips, grinding against you, and your entire body jolts with oversensitivity, clit swollen where his balls press against it. You tighten around him and groan at how hot and big he still feels inside, even as you still shiver from the come down of your second orgasm. “Gonna roll you over so I can see that perfect face.”

And when you’re on your back again, fucked out and mussed and wrecked, he just stares at you. You’ve watched his face for so long, seen so many expressions flit across his features, but never something like this—it’s a mix of amazement and awe and tenderness and lust and love, a lift to his brows and a spark in his eyes and a set to his lips.

And when he leans down to kiss you, that look doesn’t leave. It melts and softens around the edges as you catch each other's mouths, as you kiss and kiss, small tender things interspersed with longer, deeper touches, lips and teeth and tongue—his eyes darken and his mouth flushes darker pink, kiss swollen and so beautiful, but that expression stays. It stays for you.

Kim Taehyung is beautiful and lovely and unique. Kim Taehyung is so far out of your reach it’s kind of stunning, actually. And yet, here you are, existence of his touch over every part of you, in every part of you, lust driven, love full; the carefully balanced weight of his body splayed over you, pinning you down, keeping you close.

“I wanna see you cum, Tae,” you say. “Please?”

And just like he always does, Taehyung indulges you, just like you indulge him. He presses back inside you, cunt opening up for him so easy, so smooth, like his touch has already been etched into the memory of your body, perfect for him. He stays pressed close, face so near as he rolls into each thrust, sweat and coconut oil painted across your skin as your bodies shift together.

He’s been covering you in his words, both heated and sweet, and now you return the favour. You tell him how good he feels, how beautiful he is, so good, so perfect, so considerate, how much you’ve wanted this. So good, so long and thick, oh, Tae, feels so good, ah-ah-ah, baby, you’re unreal, fuck.

You can see the exact moment he starts to reach his high, the way he sucks in air, the way he lifts his chin, starts to thrust a little harder, a little faster, chasing that thread of pleasure that’s spiralling through him, and you urge him on. You lift your hips and clench so tight it has him gasping, hips stuttering, and you press your nose against his jaw, saying give it to me give it to me give it to me, wanting him to feel the same pleasure he’s given you.

When he pulls out, you’re too busy moving to pay attention to how empty you feel, settling between his legs and swallowing down his shining cock almost desperately. There’s no coconut. You can only taste yourself and when you lave your tongue across his slit it’s all Taehyung-Taehyung-Taehyung, hot and salt and bitter; he gasps and his hips jump and you take it all, lowering your head as far as you can, the head of his cock at the back of your throat before you pull up, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein at the underside, messy and wet. You drink down the wetness of his cock, your own arousal, mixed with his, the precum that beads at his head, staring up at him, your hands sliding over the sheen of his stomach, his thighs, cupping his balls, everything slick with oil and sweat.

“Oh, God.” Taehyung’s eyes are blown and his hair is a mess and his mouth is wide open as he pants for air, watching. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

You suck hard, dragging your lips up from the base of the cock to the rounded tip, swirling your tongue, bobbing your head faster—

“Oh, fuck—”

—and you swallow down each wave of cum, swallow down the way his cock twitches as he spills the evidence of pleasure into your mouth, swallow down the lovely noises that shudder out of him, watching him the whole time, never wanting to look away.

When you take your mouth off his softening cock, you draw a line of kisses with your mouth, up the soft skin of his body, stomach to chest to neck to mouth. He licks the taste of coconut oil off your lips, the taste of himself off your tongue; you curl up in his lap, settled against him, the apartment’s cool air even sharper against your skin, magnified by the oil that still lingers.

(Even without the oil painted across him, Taehyung would still shine, even under the weak light from the cheap lightbulb that hangs above you.)

You feel soft and warm and small in the circle of Taehyung’s arms, pulled close, and you can hear the words in his chest as he speaks, a resonance that touches against your skin.

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs.

You pause.

“Baby, love, darling.” The endearments are sugar sweet in your mouth, soft against his skin before you pull back to look at him, confused, concerned. “Sorry for what?”

“I really—I really was just planning to do a massage, but you’re so…”

You let out a slip of laughter. The room smells of coconut and sex, but when you lay your head against Taehyung’s collarbone all you can smell is the light tinge of his sweat. You breathe in, deep, like you can hold onto that ephemeral part of him. “Oh, Tae. I’m so what?”

“You’re so good,” he says. “So good and kind and lovely and—and so beautiful. I was going to do the massage to make you happy and then… tell you. About how happy you make me.”

You burrow your head into the hollow of his neck, the way he does to you, shy. “I’m not as beautiful as you,” you reply. “Tae, you are literally the most beautiful person alive, and—God, I’ve. I’ve been. So head over heels for you.”

There’s a pause. “Really?”

When you pull back to fix Taehyung with all the surprise in your gaze, you can see that he’s surprised, too. His hair hangs into his eyes, and he looks a little unsure, like he believes you, but finds it impossible to fathom.

You leave massage oil on his cheeks when you cup his face in your hands, staring at him with wide eyes. “Kim Taehyung, I have had daily breakdowns about the intensity of my love for you to Pickles ever since we got him. You’re the first person I think about each morning—usually because we wake each other up—and the last thing I think about at night—well, usually because you end up climbing into my bed more often than not, but, it still counts,” you say. You’re both tangled together in so many ways already. “You’ve had my heart for a long time, you know. I just never thought I had a chance?”

When Taehyung kisses you, it’s brief, a hard press of his lips before he rests his forehead against yours. “You really, really have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted—I want to do everything for you to show you how grateful I am for everything you do for me.”

“You don’t have to,” you protest, but he just smiles.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he says. “Like you don’t have to look after me, but you do.”

“That’s because I love you,” you say. “Like, capital L love you.”

You’ve been so afraid of confessing, so convinced that it was an unattainable dream; that Kim Taehyung would never, could never, has never seen you as more than a friend. But the way he’s looking at you now, the way he’s touched you, the way your body still echoes with the feeling of him inside you: you’re not scared, any more. You don’t need to be.

Taehyung’s eyes are so dark and warm when he replies, easy and effortless. “I love you, too.”

Your relationship has always been a give and take, is the thing. When you climb in the shower together, he washes the oil from your back while you massage shampoo into his scalp, laughing when he makes devil horns in his hair. He catches you by surprise when he presses you against the tiles, swallowing your moans when he coaxes one final orgasm from your tired body, rubbing tight circles over your clit as you buck against his hand and water cascades over you both. His cock hardens in your hands, sliding between your legs when you press them together, tight-tight-tight, his length rubbing against your cunt as he fucks your thighs until he’s moaning and shaking and cumming again.

(The water’s cold by the time you finally climb out, but that’s okay. You giggle and kiss as you dry yourselves, each other, excuses to keep touching and feeling, driven by affection, not lust.)

When you’re both clean, and dry, Taehyung’s leg thrown over your hip as he tugs you in, flush with his body under the covers, you press your lips against the line of his jaw.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, angel?”

You smile and hunch up even closer to him, scrunching yourself up as small as you can to plaster yourself against his side. “Thank you for the wonderful massage. Definitely the best massage I’ve ever been given, ten out of ten, would do again.”

Taehyung laughs, pressing his rectangular smile into the kiss he lays against your lips, and you think that nothing tastes better than the happiness curling his mouth.

“Love you,” he murmurs. Always romantic. “I love you love you love you.”

“Tae-honey-hyung.” And it feels so nice to not have to filter your words, to bite back that second layer of meaning, to try and keep things platonic and chaste when you speak. “I love you.”

And it feels so nice to have your Taehyung beside you, your body still aching with the press of him inside you, a good ache, a nice ache. A physical ache from good love, rather than a heartache from a love you didn’t think was reciprocated. But it is, somehow, each of you so bowled over by each other.

(“Hey, Pickles.”

The bearded dragon looks up at you, placid as he lounges in his tank.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that you won’t have to put up with me ranting at you any more,” you say. “Taehyung did break out the massage oil but it’s all good. I didn’t spontaneously combust or anything, like I thought I would.”

Pickles’ tongue flicks out as he shifts, and you smile.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m done,” you finish. “Thanks, Pickles. You’re a real pal.”

Taehyung nuzzles into your neck. His arms are a tight circle around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he looks down at the reptile, too. He’s warm and solid against your back, and you lean into him, happiness tingling through you.

“I wonder how much longer we would have taken if you didn’t get that coupon for a massage therapy course,” you muse, and Taehyung chuckles, warm and lovely.

“We would have gotten there eventually. And we would have had each other until we did, anyway. Right, angel?”

Pickles stays quiet as you both kiss, but you can tell he approves.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

#magicshopnet #btswritingcafe #taehyung smut #taehyung oneshot #taehyung x reader #bts #bts smut #v smut #v oneshot #v x reader #taehyung #taehyung fluff #bts oneshot #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist

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sashi-ya · 3 years ago

Note

sashii my love! how are you? congrats on the 1K followers! may i have Ace + f!reader + make up sex + overstimulation, please? thank you so much ❤

i forgot the AU omg i'm so sorry, but halloween AU please ❤ and thank you again ❤

Hiii my dear Lari!! Thank u so so much darling! I hope you enjoy this sweet -but spicy- scenario of the fire freckles boy 💖! Love u, thank u so much for your support 💖!!

🔥NSFW ~ Portgas D. Ace x F! Reader ~ Burning Halloween [Make up sex + Overstimulation]

TW: jealousy, overstimulation, humping, frotting, vaginal.

WC: 1.1K

Fan art made by my precious friend @simpforroses pls visit her tumblr she is JUST AMAZING! ♥

“Babe… come on… It was just a photo” “Fuck you, Ace”

You walk in front of him, Ace follows you sighing. You knew that firefighter open costume would attract so many hoes around your boyfriend, and indeed that was exactly the problem. Ace, the hottest human being alive has that special effect on others, he makes people want to fuck him.

Some girls asked to take some pictures with him, and he agreed instantly. You were completely ignored, while the hoes touched his chest and he smiled oh so happy. Jealousy isn’t enough to describe what you are feeling. Yet, you perfectly know Ace only has eyes for you… “Babe, stop. Please” he tells you. “No, I already told you. I am coming back home. Have fun” you say, without even turning around.

“Fucking Halloween night, I fucking knew it. Fucking fuck” you grunt, walking faster. But because you choose to wear the highest heels ever, that were obviously not meant for walking all pissed through the cold nights of October, you fall directly into the ground. You twisted your ankle, and it hurts like a motherfucking bitch.

Ace runs to you, “Babe, oh my…”. He crunches on your side inspecting your foot. “It doesn’t hurt, leave me alone” you tell him, all proud. “Yeah sure, come here” he says and lifts you up.

“Put me on the ground, Ace!!” you shout, throwing a tantrum. “Stop, babe…” he says and quickly takes you to his car. “There, let’s go home” he says while buckling your seatbelt. You cross your arms and remain silent for the rest of the ride.

Ace helps you get out of the car, you still can’t walk properly, so he carries you inside. “We should call Marco, so he checks up on that” he says. “A little bit of ice would be enough” you tell him, still angry. He lets you over the sofa and walks to the kitchen to get an ice pack.

“Let me see that foot, come on” he says and places the cold gel pack over the bridge of your toe. You can’t help but smile at him being so cute and caring. But suddenly, the power goes off. “Shit!” you scream, all scared. Is not a good sign to go dark on a night like Halloween…

Ace starts laughing, “Ahh, (Name) don’t be a pussy, I’m sure power is coming back soon”. “I’m not a pussy, you ass” you roll your eyes, remembering you were actually mad at him. “Ahh… you aren’t? Oh… so, maybe… we could do something while we wait for the electricity to come back…” he says, tracing a path with his fingers on your leg.

“I’m still mad at you…” you chime. “Come on, baby…” he moans. “No!” you say. But suddenly, you hear a loud unexpected sound on the window, as if someone was trying to get in…

You jump over your freckled boyfriend, scared, panting, trembling. He giggles while hugging you tight yet looking all around just to check if there was someone or it was only the wind. “Ace…” you whisper, quivering lips. “Don’t worry babe, it’s just the wind. But even so, I’m here to protect you”.

Ace slowly reaches for your lips, placing a soft peck over them. “A-Ace…” you mumble, he is so irresistible. “What? mh?” he says, kissing you once again, lowering his smooches through your neck.

Your costume cleavage seems perfect for your lover's mouth. Ace kisses, licks, and bites your flesh. You moan, you want to keep on acting mad at him, but it’s just impossible… “I’m only yours, you know that?” he mumbles, nuzzling on your chest. “I’m not really sure about that…” you tell him, pouting, yet letting the man enjoy your skin.

“Let me show you, then…”.

Ace helps you sit properly over his lap. You are straddling your hips over his crotch, feeling his hard arousal. You take that firefighter jacket off, exposing his freckled shoulders, kissing them, getting drunk on the scent of his flesh. His hips go up and down, making you hump, grazing your core with his rock-hard bulge.

The freckled boy takes your upper part, leaving you only with a little skirt ruffled around your waist. Panties getting wet, Ace hands travel up and down your back as you keep making out. Passionate kisses that erase any anger, any pain from a sprained ankle.

“Stand up just a little” Ace commands. You let some room for him to lower his zipper. His boxers are the definition of damp, his sex feels encaged inside those clothes. The freckled man releases his member, quickly slides his pants and boxers off and presses you down against his dick.

He moves aside your panties, but still doesn’t penetrate you. Instead, your core can feel his throbbing warm dick simply grazing against it. Ace buries his fingers around your hip sides and moves you back and forth. Your clit hits against his gland, arousal fluids mixing in a delightful motion that make the both of you moan, soundly.

And because it seems not to be enough, your beloved attacks your nipples. He kisses, sucks, nibbles them. You tangle your fingers around his hair, place your chin over the crown of his head. Your hips move on their own, your core wants his dick to finally penetrate you. It moves so threateningly over your entrance, but never gets the chance to get inside. Ace knows exactly how to make you beg, how to make you need him, how to desire he was fucking you.

The friction and stimulation lead your walls to finally tensed up and climax is about to hit you hard. “A..Ace… I’m coming” you whine. “Are you?” he asks, biting your nipple. “Y-yeah…”. “Awesome”.

Ace smirks at you, devilishly, and moves his hips even faster, grazing motion that makes you cum. Your whole body squirming, Ace’s crotch damped. But he is not willing to end things here, oh no…

While your orgasm still hits you, he decides it’s the best time to start fucking you. You widen your eyes as you feel how he penetrates you with no shame at all. “Ace…” you moan because this might give your body more sensations that you could take.

He only smiles, while his dick goes in and out of you. Your clenching walls get hyper stimulated, the tip of his member hitting your g spot. Eyes rolled back; you are not even able to moan. “Gonna make you cum again…” he laughs, while your nails carve the skin of his tattooed back.

And hell, he does. You finish once again, a new orgasm so close to the prior. Something you wouldn’t think your body was capable of doing. The overstimulation with simple actions, the way Ace made you go beyond the max, Ace makes you burn so hot…

Ace moans, he cums too. He fills you up, both pressing your foreheads. Power comes back, yet your eyes shut close, darkness… exhaustion wins, and you lull to Ace’s “I love yous” over his shoulder ♥ ~

Fan art made by my precious friend @simpforroses ! visit her tumblr for more beautiful art like this one ♥

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shotorozu · 3 years ago

Note

BABE , i saw a hc ( i think it was urs) where the boys’s s/o was really fashionable, ( as somebody that’s gone viral on pinterest a little too many times ) I WAS WONDERING , what if you did a todobakudeku ( separately please omg) with somebody that’s like the emma chamberlain of fashion and they own everybody’s pinterest boards and stuff AHAHA IDK , the amount of times somebody has said ‘ wait ur that one pinterest girl right?? ‘ ANYWHAHEEIE I LOVE YOU N HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! 💗💗

pinterest famous s/o

character(s) : midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, they/them pronouns (at the request of anon) strong quirk hinted; not specific

headcanon type : fluff, crack-ish (x reader)

note(s) : thank you anon!! so ok, i still used they/them pronouns even though the reader is afab (again at the request of anon) and whdjwkd sorry for the inactivity :,) also im gonna post more later so— sorry for the delay

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

when middle school midoriya finally got a phone, he downloaded pinterest for the sole purpose of looking at screencaps of heroes

but then, he hasn’t touched it a few months, because he’s been training with all might

then, when he finally had enough free time again— he decided to go on pinterest

but instead of finding any heroes he could look at, he found the prettiest human being he has ever seen in his entire life 💀

that person was a different type of beauty, y’know— they weren’t just fashionable, but their beauty was,,

timeless? that’s how he’d describe it. yeah. that person lived in his head rent free for a while

sadly, he feels like you’re that person he sees once in his life, and never again 😔　which isn’t the case

when he finally meets you, midoriya realizes that you look VERY familiar— someone on pinterest, that he unfortunately, didn’t know the name of

but then wait! he realizes that you’re that person. that one person that blew up on pinterest, and ended up in all of the fashion boards.

okay, you’ve been recognized a few times in the past, just because you were pinterest famous— but you didn’t expect him to recognize you

“wait,, you know me?” you asked him when you saw the realization sink in

and you were honestly,, flattered when he went on a tangent on how you were on all of the pinterest boards, and how your sense of fashion was timeless

but you know what’s the best thing of it all? when izuku developed a crush on you (and not because he thought you were just an attractive face)

it was very easy to find pictures of you online! he says it’s for research but,, he tends to look at them for a long time

probably has 3-4 pages dedicated to your hero costume— since fashion icon = fashionable, yet a very practical hero costume!

does he get jealous whenever people fawn over your looks, or whenever he sees comments in pinterest comment sections just asking for your socials in such desperation?

hmm,, yes? he does occasionally feel like someone like you, should be with someone as equally beautiful as you

he thought he was always plain looking, but you wholeheartedly disagree! in fact, you fell in love with his ability to pay attention to detail.

to the random creeps in the comments section, he just contacts the uploader and asks them to delete any malicious comments and it works 100% of them time.

on the brighter side, he helps a lot with taking your pictures (if you ask him to) and sometimes! he’ll even appear in them

izuku will always be your #1 fan!

bakugou katsuki

at first, you’d be like “katsuki owning pinterest? naaah.” but! i think he would

being an all might fan, he liked looking at all might screen caps— and while katsuki would be on the discreet side, he’d find himself looking at them whenever he has extra minutes to burn

not to mention, the cooking recipes on there aren’t the worst, so he doesn’t just use pinterest to look at screen caps of heroes doing their work

and, how could he forget that you’ve been bugging him to search for rare screen caps? he says that it’s useless— but he finds himself digging for you anyway,

which is whyyy

he finds an entirely different rabbit hole, and it’s way past 10pm, 3 more minutes wouldn’t wound him.

the blond doesn’t know how he even stumbled on.. this side of pinterest. the one that kind of hurts his eyes.

the more well known side of pinterest, that is covered in pictures of fashion boards, and the standard pretty person.

the ‘aesthetic’ side, kaminari calls it— it makes bakugou cringe, and he was just about to refresh his page

when he spots something familiar, it’s you‼️ well it wasn’t just you but, you were dressed in something,, nice.

like sure! you’re attractive. but that’s not why he’s dating you, there’s a lot of reasons as to why

but, he’s baffled. seeing you in a different light, and in such nice clothing, what more, when he sees that you’re actually everywhere. he hasn’t seen this much of you and your attractive ass before

katsuki told himself that he was going to sleep a few minutes ago, but now? he’s left admiring all of your pictures.

how did he not know that his s/o’s pinterest famous? you’re practically in every single board!

he confronts you the next day in an oddly weird manner, “you didn’t tell me you were famous on that stupid pinterest app.”

you’re sheepish, “welll, i didn’t know that you were going to stumble on that side of pinterest!”

he doesn’t say anything, and really! it looks like he doesn’t care about the newest discovery of his s/o

but he shows his feelings in his own way.

like, how katsuki insists that he finds a new outfit that you’d absolutely love— one that’ll fit with your aesthetic

and that he insists that he does your graphic liner, because you’re going to ‘poke your eyes out’

makes an entirely different account to reply to those simps and creeps in the comment section, sort of like

random pinterest user : “the things i’ll do to be crushed by them 💦”

pinterestuser461903 : “go touch some fucking grass.”

also would’ve commented “your art sucks” at the poorly done drawings of you in the comments, but knows you appreciated the art— so he doesn’t

(still thinks the fanart doesn’t do you enough justice)

he’ll be super proud when someone notices you in person like “yeah that’s fucking right, but too bad they’re super attractive and way out of your league.”

in short, it looks like katsuki doesn’t care at all about your pinterest famous life, but he’s your #1 supporter

todoroki shouto

i am certain for this one— he doesn’t have pinterest

well, he didn’t have pinterest, until midoriya convinced him to create an account, but it kinda just ended at that

but the person that actually made him use pinterest was sero, because he kept bugging him to give it a try

todoroki finds the app very practical— he can find screen caps of heroes in action, and he can also find oddly helpful tips in cooking (and in anything)

but sero was like “todoroki, what about the aesthetic value??” and todoroki didn’t really get that part to be honest 💀

todoroki, being clueless didn’t know what to search for— so sero being the wonderful friend he is, helped him search for it

and that’s when it happened. it didn’t take that long, but they eventually found an entire section just full of pictures of you; their classmate and crush

“is that Y/N?” mina notices what they’re looking at, and she observes the picture “oh wow— it is her! no wonder why she looked familiar.”

“it’s impressive! our classmate is pinterest famous!” they continue to look at every single post in each board, and todoroki’s left to observe in silence

he has definitely taken a liking to you, even if he didn’t realize it at first— he liked you because of your hard work when it came to training, personality and patience, not because of your looks

obviously, todoroki thinks that you look good in anything, trashbag style or not. but seeing you in this light was interesting.

so after training, todoroki would spent a good portion of his time scavenging for more pictures— not because he was obsessed or anything

but because,, he really liked your pictures. maybe it was because without you in those pictures, it would feel incomplete

he didn’t know how to approach you after this discovery, which is why he’s glad that you approached him first

“todoroki! what are you looking at?” you took a peak at his screen, and you’re baffled to see yourself, and that very famous picture of you

he’s quiet for a second when he realizes that you’ve caught him staring at your pictures, but he explains calmly, “sero accidentally discovered your pictures,, and i just wanted to take a peak at them, if it was okay,,”

and he’s relieved— well, you’re also relieved. you didn’t know how your crush would react if he ever saw those pictures, but your heart skipped a beat knowing that he enjoyed looking at them

“it’s alright todoroki,” you smile, honestly over the moon as you spoke “i’m really glad that you like them.”

sometimes you’d get shy whenever he’d go on pinterest just to look at your pictures, “todoroki, not that one! that one was really old,,” is what you’d say whenever he’d look at your older photos but he’d still look at them anyway 💀

at first, todoroki helped you in his own subtle way. since he’s quite the fashion icon— he’d recommend you clothes to wear for future pictures

he eventually confessed— and it was because you were talking to him while he was really tired, and he blurted out that he really, really liked you and you almost passed away because of his words

so yeah— it was a case of secretly admiring their beautiful best friend to lovers scenario

he’d go the full mile when it came to taking your pictures. he’d check the weather forecast just in case if it was going to rain for that date, and impromptu picnic photoshoot

that boyfriend that has pictures of you in his photo gallery, and has a backstory for each photo if anyone were to ask

also that boyfriend that knows how to take pictures, will probably even lay down to take them, even if you didn’t kindly ask him to

when you asked him to join the picture, he didn’t really know how to— but he made it work! and the both of you guys went viral

but this isn’t all one sided, no— whenever you guys would cuddle, shouto would simply stare at you with HEARTS in his eyes,

and even before he leans in for a kiss, he’ll stare at you with so much love in his eyes, while he traces his thumb across your cheekbones. man’s in love— you’re gorgeous.

he knows that you know that he’s not with you because of any ulterior motive, you both have mutual trust in each other— so it’s not something you guys will bother on questioning because you’re both hot asf lets be real

he’s not uncomfortable whenever people gawk at you in public— i mean, you two get stares on the regular. and how could they not stare at you? you’re very attractive, and he’s glad that people recognize that

but he’ll get protective if they’ll try to be a threat to your loving relationship with him, he won’t be afraid to be blunt

regarding the comments on each pinterest post— he hates it when people say things out of the line

always tries to hide them from you so you don’t feel bothered by them, but if you knew about them— he’ll be sad :,(

but he’ll end up mass reporting those nasty comments— and they always get taken down, because of the shouto todoroki luck

in short? man’s whipped, and the both of you guys are SO attractive together— what more if people knew about the om chemistry?

really— you being pinterest famous was just a nice plus, he fell in love with you for you

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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meruz · 4 years ago

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once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous)

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL.

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close.

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

#ask #trying this new thing where i tag people in the body of the post instead

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wistfulrat · 4 years ago

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a 4-part rec list of my fave drarry fics - the thrillers, dramas, soft bois, and wankbanks getting me through 2020′s shitstorm

[the soft boi list is here and truly i’m not surprised this rec is going to be the longest bc if there’s one thing a bitch is going to do, it’s yearn.

as always! if you love a fic, follow the authors, leave kudos & comments, send them nice msgs bc free art is still labor xoxo]

part 3: soft bois

mood: for when I need respite, a balm to the all-consuming shittiness of life

includes: fluff, comfort, low-stakes, slow-burn fics. a wistful look, a rainy morning, an unexpected grace, a stupidly disarming joke. i could live inside these fics. the smallness of human lives removed from the site of that which hurts & irreparably changes. the story-equivalent of a deep breath after a long day. pregnant silences & pensive mundanity & shy smiles. banter with bite but without the cruelty. the color lavender. weirdly whimsical. soft fics are not necessarily conflict-averse (no drarry fic rly can be, considering the context) but, they offer the reader a generous distance from the initial harm. they’re the quiet cleaning up after a storm. sometimes healing is an exacting surgical knife and other times it’s a slow scabbing. you read these fics to be reassured that the way forward is not always ruthless. and honestly?? they deserve a semblance of peace godDAMmit.

The Way Down by @letteredlettered - 65k - T “and I thought that if someone talked to you as though you were a human being you might—maybe you could act like one” --the way i think about this line daily. the characterization of draco in this fic is one my favorites bc he’s earnest and neurotic and tired of harry’s shit. which is to say, he cares so so much. and harry doesn’t know what to do with that bc he’s got a monster in his chest and lives as a recluse. but they both humanize each other in ways no one else can. “you’re just a person” has to be some kind of drarry ethics of belonging and it makes me CRY. -

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by @greaseonmymouth and dustmouth - 96k - T “Maybe it’s not about deserving it? Maybe you just get to have it anyway. . .I’m allowing myself to want something and to let myself have it and to fight for it.” --harry runs a daycare and also works at a library. draco spends a lot of time in said library. they bond over sci-fi books and therapy anecdotes and quiet philosophical conversations held over cafeteria soup. and harry’s struggling to understand his asexuality. draco’s learning how to live with anxiety and depression. they both want to be deserving of love. incredible fic with beautiful art by dustmouth. -

Open for Repairs by @drarrytrash - 35k - T “A few leaves rustle in the gutter and the muggle world pays no mind to them, to two lost boys holding on for dear life.” --all of their fics feel exactly like this. like you’ve been allowed to look at something private, tender, unexpected. draco, known abba fan, is a repairman in the muggle world & harry can’t stop breaking thrifted things in order to see him? say less, i'm thERE. also “I think I have a crush on you” goddddd - other faves by them: Counting Down By Ten - 2k - T: draco’s stepped outside of the party for a smoke. harry follows him bc of course he does. i could read this 100 times and not get tired of it. - Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon - 36k - E: FUCKING HILARIOUS I CACKLED THROUGH THE WHOLE THING. draco’s wolfy problem and harry helping him and harry being flustered by how much he likes draco and draco’s hot heroic moment. shutup it’s perfect. “He almost asks if Draco ever gets tired of being a miserable complaining shit all the time, but he knows that he, personally, never ever gets tired of being a miserable complaining shit.” and “It’s the traumas,” Harry says gravely” --lines that live rent free in my head -

Harry Potter and the Future He Doesn't Really Want, Thanks by seefin - 70k - E “That was the only logical thing to do here, wasn’t it? It was the next step, it was the end of hurting each other and the beginning of the exact opposite.” --harry lives with luna and neville and also he dreams about the future sometimes? and he keeps running into draco. draco thinks this is sus as hell, until he doesn’t. feat. taxi rides, museums, cinemas, rooftop conversations beneath a lunar eclipse, mid-sex innocuous banter, draco and harry discussing nicki minaj. this fic charmed my ass off. seefin writes the most effortlessly hilarious dialogues. i smiled at my phone like an idiot at least 7 times. - other faves by them: Wild - 93k - E: “he liked feeling needed, for the things that he was needed for back at the house in Ireland. For cooking and gardening and driving. Easy things.” --this shit makes me cry it’s so good. harry lives in Ireland with these three brilliant, hilarious, wandless witches and draco’s a potions student who's come to study under one of the housemates and the boys have so much shit to work through but their love becomes so tender and honest. draco yells at harry a lot and harry lets him and they both keep each other grounded in something real and fuCK. - Divination for Dickheads - 7k - G: “I’m terrible at having crushes. I’ve never played anything cool a day in my life.” -- oh harry, we knOW. a bus ride, a fortune teller, an aquarium birthday party. god i love this fic. -

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic - 61k - E “But we’ve worked so hard at this, haven’t we? Yeah, I know it’s a horror to have to talk about it, but fuck it. We’re friends now, but it took so long to get here. Have you ever had to work so hard at something before?" --the steady blossoming of their friendship in this fic is so goddamn beautiful i want to yell. it’s draco and harry learning to trust each other and the whole thing unfolds so slowly, in this whimsical mix of london streets, wizarding politics, church halls feat. a Hot vicar, and a magical antique shop owner who’s married to literal poseidon?? goD the environment of this fic. immaculate. [also there’s a tender shower scene that makes me cry every single fucking time so if you read this fic pls dm me so we can be embarrassing about it together tbh] -

Nice Things by aideomai - 22k - M “He kept waiting for the weird shock of touch to not knock him clean out of his head, leave him quiet and warm and happy.” --8th year. harry forms an unlikely friendship with draco that begins with smoking weed on a windowsill. harry is touch-starved and draco touches him like he touches all his close friends - like it’s easy. the quiet affection in this fic, the way harry burrows himself into touch bc he’s been without it for his entire life. reading this is like being held. -

Running On Air by @tinyhistory - 74k - T “do you remember when we were eleven?” --alexa play coldplay’s the scientist it’s sad girl hours and we’re about to fucking yearn. you’ve seen this fic rec on every drarry list under the sun and i'm here to be redundant. the hype is so goddamn real. this story is a lyrical masterpiece held together by lines that act as refrains that will rattle around your brain until you die, probably. draco’s been missing for 3yrs. harry goes to find him. it’s their odyssey of homecoming. -

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken - 12k - T “But Draco, Draco was everything but boring. Draco made sitting in the rain watching an empty house fun.” --auror partners pining and draco being eccentric and harry being very earnestly gay about draco’s eccentricities!! god this fic is so genuinely fun skskd feat. undercover missions, murderous faeries, a book heist, a stunning navy dress, harry’s eyelashes. -

How We Throw Our Shadows Down by @thistle-verse - 14k - T “Draco is about to say something else— to thank Potter for what he’d done, however poorly— but Harry is smiling at him again, and it’s so soft and perfect that Draco holds in any inadequate words, lest he spoil it.” --draco collects tea cozies and of course harry has the one he wants. the sad and tender gays are at it again feat. conversations in the rain at a train station, melancholy Blaise, muggle photos, wizarding e-bay, the Dursleys. -

Helix by Saras_Girl - 92k - E “Draco sighs in his sleep and Harry clings on to consciousness, needing to hold on, to give this tiny, insignificant moment the attention it deserves” --I think maybe you can describe every soft Saras_Girl story as giving tiny, insignificant moments the attention they deserve. like, this is an 8th year fic about snails and it’s full of whimsy, grief, compassion, and easy humor. an absolute must-read author in this genre if you want languorous, episodic fics full of distinct OCs and affectionate creatures. - other faves by them: Light up the Night Sky - 98k - M “Draco, sometimes you make my head feel like soup” --the one where harry is a fireworks artist and has a pet chameleon named ken. draco is on the wizarding arts council. they both pine like hell. - Headlights in the Snow - 71k - M “they stare at each other in silence, Harry’s heart beating so loud in his chest that he thinks the biddies must be able to hear it over the sound of their card game.” --the one where draco drives the knight bus and carts around the biddy club, a group of rambunctious old ladies who knit and drink tea and gossip. harry can’t help but fall in love with the everything about this. -

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 - 38k - T “Harry’s heavy thoughts lift at the sight, like dark clouds blown away from the sun by the wind. The tent doesn’t feel so cramped and stifling now. It feels cozy. And safe. It’s the same feeling that Harry gets when he’s at the Burrow for Sunday roasts, when a group of people who care for each other deeply are crammed into too-small a space.” --harry wanders to the lovegood house on a sunday afternoon. he’s baffled to see that luna’s taken pansy, greg, and draco under her wing. what follows is a summer of forest walks, scavenger hunts, gardening, water fights, odd cakes, faerie rings, and picnics. so many picnics. i love the pace of this fic, the innocent return to childhood things, the way luna brings out the best in all her friends. reluctantly soft slytherins are just *chefs kiss*!! -

Going Postal (A 125pg comic) by dustmouth - T what. a. beautiful. ass. comic. the wizarding fashion, the textures, the character design!! harry travels a lot for his job as a resourcer. draco works in the regulations dept. they pine like a bunch of lovesick idiots via field report notes. god i love dustmouth’s art. -

All the Earnest Young Men by @tepre - 29k - E “Draco is twenty-seven layers of personality wrapped up in drama and humour, and a wit so sharp it still stings when he doesn’t see it coming. But there is something below that, too. Something that makes Harry ache just looking at him.” --the way i would lay down my little life for tepre’s characterization of draco, whom invented the word earnest. he’s a magical art theory expert and portraits are disappearing all over London and harry’s the auror assigned to this case. and well. they’re both so very avoidant about how gay they are for each other and it’s like!! shutup and kiss!! which they do in fact, shutup and kiss. -

Trenches by sara_holmes - 3k - M “Somewhere in the distant part of his mind that hasn't frozen solid, he thinks that maybe he and Draco are about to become more than auror partners, smoking buddies, wine-mates and co-inhabitants of a snow filled trench somewhere in western Scotland.” --the plot line here is literally “it’s cold and i need a fucking cigarette” but let me tell you how I never tire of the shared loaded-silences of two emotionally repressed gays. -

The Years Before Love by lomonaaeren - 13k - M “That’s one of the meanings of peace, he thinks, as Hermione hugs him...That he can do things slowly, softly, without worrying that they won’t be there tomorrow.” --andromeda taking harry under her wing and harry finding solace in teddy. narcissa and draco showing up and the tentative relationships that slowly develop in the quiet calm of andromeda’s house. found families and kisses in the snow and special xmas gifts ugh what’s not to love -

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight by Omi_Ohmy - 35k - M “I want this to be a house where people are welcome, where they don’t have to be any one way or another” --in which harry collects lost things--owls, best friends, inept bakers, potions experimenters--and turns the mausoleum that is grimmauld place into a home. feat. your fave drarry tropes like shared-beds and reluctant waltzing partners. -

[part 1: thrillers | part 2: dramas | part 3: soft bois | part 4: wankbanks]

#drarry fic rec #drarry fic #soft drarry #OK FINE I RAMBLED BUT WHAT DID WE EXPECT #alexa play futile devices

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sizzlingpatrolfox · 2 years ago

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Tailor Of Chaos .. oh wow Jimin is so intriguing , he's so fascinating it's insane .

I just watched the mood sampler and it just confirmed to me one thing : he's never going to get boring . He's just too multi-faceted in a never ending way you know ? Dare i say he is what taehyung is trying to be and i mean no hate to him .

Do not get me started on his creativity and artistic potential . He's honesly an artist in the literal sense of the word you know ? I honestly wholeheartedly believe that , i will never get bored of him .

Fascinating is the word. He's someone that just lingers in your mind. I don't even remember what did I think when I first watched the mood sampler except that it wasn't enough, I want to see more more more. Even when the photobook comes out I doubt that it will be enough, because it's like he's created a whole story but there's not actually a narration, it's imagery and ideas floating around. Could you describe it? It's not a concept that you could put into words, that you could define in a specific way, with a word or two. I guess that's Jimin himself, you couldn't really describe him with just one word or two.

His use of minimalism in this is top notch. He did simple black and white, no other colors at all for this concept at least, and it works perfectly. It's a minimalist style but without feeling dull or half-assed. I doubted it for a minute when I saw the previews ngl. The white fit was peeking in one of the "hint" photos and I was wondering how would he make black and white interesting. But he did it T_T using so little he was able to come up with a concept that's sexy, intriguing, so aesthetically pleasing to look at, but also intimidating.

The reactions to the mood sampler reminded me of when I was part of book fandoms (like Harry Potter, Twilight, to name the most mainstream ones); people talking about what it could all mean, how does one thing relate to the other, the meaning of the props, of the clothes, of the songs. Just people looking for the writing on the wall to try and get a grasp of the story and get even more immersed in it. Theee amount of fanarts I've seen since the first teaser photo dropped, and now after the clips, it's also a part of all of that. It makes people's imagination work, it's a feeling of fantasy that could become reality. Or that maybe is reality already, somewhere, somehow. This happens with TV shows and movies, too. There's discourse about all that media, in the exact same way there's been discourse about Jimin's teasers. It's also how it used to be with BTS before the pandemic; the way after the mood sampler people came up with theories about mythology and literary or art references, that kind of conversations used to happen around BTS albums. And it's brilliant. It keeps people entertained, hooked. It doesn't matter who's right or wrong, but it's fun for people to discuss it anyways.

It can't be ignored him bringing back some of the props that he used on Filter, but with a twist. It makes me wonder what heights he would've taken filter performances to, had it been possible for them to tour that year.

PS: His face is everything.

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redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

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Just one single glimpse of relief

TW: OC death, death themes

“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”

Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.

“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”

“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”

“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”

“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.

“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”

“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”

“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”

“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”

“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”

“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”

“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”

“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.

“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”

“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”

“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.

“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”

“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”

“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”

“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”

“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”

“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”

“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”

“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.

“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”

"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step.

“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”

“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile.

XxX

“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”

“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”

#danny phantom #me: makes up a random OC for the sake of the story #also me: oh my gawd sydney oh my goodd im so sorry baby Im sorry #the exciting continuation of Robin gets weirdly existential and peaceful about death #just the image of Danny saving the living then going on to talk to and help the dead he couldnt save move on #it fucking gets me okay?#he really is the bridge hero for the living and the dead alike #i love him so fucking much #well now Im emo for the rest of forever #title from Taylor Swifts epiphany #amazing a story title that DOESNT come from the 18-19th century death poem #i must be mad #Im reading it over again and its like way longer than it needs to be bc I kept adding more and more to sydnees story

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sebstanseabass · 3 years ago

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Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 16

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The sun glared through the thin sheet of the tent, making your listless self stir beneath the blankets draped over your naked body. Cautious not to wake Bucky, who had his arms wrapped around you, you carefully buried your face deeper in his neck but he wasn't that much of a deep sleeper as you thought he would be.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." He said, pulling you closer.

"G'morning." You replied, smiling against his skin. "Have you been awake this whole time?"

"Yes. I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful sleeping."

"Someone tired me out last night."

Bucky chuckled, sending a low vibration on top of your head. "Hmm, how was he?"

"He's pretty good in bed." You chuckled. "But pretty creepy when he refers to himself in the third person."

You stayed right there for another hour — in each other's embrace, in heat, in thin sheets, in profound silence, still taking pleasure in the afterglow of what had transpired last night: the intimacy in each other's skin, of each other's mouths, of each other's everything. A kind of intimacy you never dared share with anyone, not even with your serious ex-boyfriend.

Before the both of you got up and headed down the fire escape and then to the apartment, you had looked at him one last time and asked yourself the same question you had asked Bucky the first time you were here on the rooftop:

"Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" You asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

Was this the kind of afterglow you sought after?

You shook your head, suddenly feeling ridiculous. Perhaps it was the sex; just that. The most amazing, mindblowing sex I ever had in my life, you thought. The more you described it that way while descending down the stairs and entering the apartment through the window (while wearing Bucky's shirt which looked huge on you, by the way), the more you believed it was just because of that. Besides, it was something that had given you sweet, sweet pleasure, something that made me feel like you were high on drugs, something that made you feel alive, something that made you feel things you didn't even know you could — the after of it all, of course, was worth so much more.

You both went straight to the bathroom to wash your faces and brush your teeth as soon as you got in. Of course, you took way more time than he did. He soon went to the kitchen to prep breakfast. You approached him afterwards, his bare back exposed to you while cracking some eggs into a bowl.

Without any hesitation at all, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. You caught a whiff of his scent, even though he reeked of sex, the vanilla-lavender hint never faded.

"Whatcha cookin', good-lookin'?" You asked, taking a peek on the table.

"I was thinking of making you Japanese omelettes today." He stopped whipping for a second to face you. He placed a finger on your chin, tilting it upwards, and proceeded to kiss me.

"Have I told you you have the softest lips?" He whispered after.

"Yes, you did." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "And you kept reminding me last night."

"Good. You should be reminded of all the beautiful things you possess." He rested his hands on your hips. You wanted to shy away from the mention of the word beautiful but you didn't.

You have always received compliments, yes, but you never learned how to respond to them unless they tell you how to: "Oh for god's sake, just say thank you." Most people compliment you just because they have to, because social convention dictates them to (especially when you're at a party). Some, perhaps only five percent, genuinely compliment you.

But the spontaneity of last night — all the compliments Bucky kept giving you, all the "beautiful" being said over and over and over, were playing in your head like a broken record. Even after he saw all the folds, the rolls, stretch marks, scars, and acne marks.

It wasn't just that. He admired every single one of your photos down at the bar, photos you worked hard for, photos people kept neglecting. He talked about them like how you imagined someone actually talking about them. He talked to you about the beauty of art like how you wanted to talk to someone about it (Weirdly so, you picked friends you had nothing in common with: Nat just wanted to gossip, Steve preferred to be mysterious, Peter was all about business, Wanda was the one person you could talk to about these but you chose not to anymore, and Nick... was just Nick). It was like reading each other's minds.

You treated each as a compliment.

The five percent you were talking about? Bucky was it.

He pulled you out of your thoughts by sliding his hands to your ass, squeezing the cheeks for a bit, then placing them on the back of your thighs. You smiled then jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. He placed you on top of the counter next to all the ingredients he had prepared.

He grabbed your face and continued to make-out, leaving the eggs on the bowl raw and unwhisked.

"You should," you said in between kisses, "go back to cooking. I'm starving."

"Y'know, you could just eat me."

"Sorry, I want cooked eggs."

He pulled away from, yet his hands stayed on your waist. With a cute pout on his face, he said: "Mean."

You broke into laughter after that and you watched him cook this Japanese omelette he kept talking about.

"I would make you the most amazing Japanese omelette — and the most complicated one, by the way. It took me months to perfect that — but I'm too lazy to prepare the rice." He chuckled, grabbing an apron. "So, I'm just going to make you the normal one. It's called Tamagoyaki."

"Hmm, interesting." You commented. "I just do mine sunny-side up. Crack an egg on a pan. That's it. It's an underrated hack, really."

He laughed. "It's a good thing I'm here then." He proceeded to heat the pan, and throw some butter on it once the heat was good enough.

"You told me you only know how to cook breakfast, right? Why is that?"

"The same reason why you cook your eggs sunny-side up."

"It's easy?"

"Not just easy." He replied. "It's the easiest of all meals! Toast, eggs, bagels, bacon — see, they're pretty easy."

You frowned, tilting your head. "You know, most times, you say the most profound things but you do say the weirdest, silliest things sometimes."

It was like two people were fighting against each other inside him: the child, and the man.

He laughed at your comment and said nothing further as he concentrated on cooking. You watched him move around the kitchen as the minutes passed by. And while you talked about the small things in life, you couldn't help but wonder how this Bucky, standing right in front of you, kissing you, holding you, was much more different — way more different than the Bucky you knew in Peter's stories.

The thing you liked about it though, was that both versions excited you. You longed for spontaneous adventures, ones that you’d keep forever, ones that would remind you of the days of your youth, ones you too stuck up to do, and you longed for conversations like this, and the ones you and Bucky have had before, conversations that made you see more of life's beauty and appreciate it.

That same afternoon, you spent it lying down on a couch in each other's arms, watching a movie he guilted you into watching: Roman Holiday. You made side commentaries while you watched, how lame the lines were, how cheesy they all sounded, but at the same time, amazed at how things have changed since then.

"Ugh, I love me a vespa." You said, watching the vespa speed away on the streets. "I would just love to ride around New York city in a vespa and just pull off some Roman Holiday in this bitch."

"I have to admit, that does look fun."

And somewhere halfway through the film, when Bucky was making small circles with his finger on your waist (igniting fire within you, and at the same time, making you weak on your knees), you ended up making out, grabbing and touching each other beneath your clothes, and taking them all off, sending them flying all over the living room floor, and repeating what you did last night — except it was in broad daylight and Bucky dominated over you, over and over and over, flesh on flesh. You kept screaming each other's names. He kept fucking you into oblivion, taming the mad woman in you.

You laid there on your back, pulling down his neck with your right hand, making your foreheads touch, locking your eyes together, telling him to go "faster, deeper", digging deep and scratching into his back with your nails, making him hiss out your name, and at the same time, crying out his name repeatedly like a chant, making you forget your own.

You felt the droplets of his sweat on your skin, mixed with your own. You watched him ravish you, watched the pleasure consume him wholly, and watched his eyes roll back as he came inside.

"I really can't get enough of you, babydoll." He growled, and kissed you one last time before you showered and headed down to work.

"You look different." Nat observed, sitting on one of the high stools across you. "Did you do something with your face?"

"No, I didn't." You grimaced, shaking your head.

"Then, why are you glowing?"

"Quit staring."

She chose not to listen to you and kept on following you with her eyes as you moved around the counter. "Oh my god, I know what it is — "

"Goddamn it, Nat — "

" — you had sex!"

She cackled, gesturing you towards the booth with a sharp tone: "Booth. Now."

You followed suit. It was crystal clear in that moment that you had no other choice, that she held the upper hand in this friendship. You were starting to think that perhaps this friendship you were pursuing with Nat was a mistake as she kept on berating you about the information she just acquired.

"There's no way in hell I'm telling you all about it." You huffed, sitting across from her.

"I'll tell you one thing, though," she said, "I'm a fucking prophet."

"Don't be such a smug bitch." You rolled your eyes. "No one likes a smug bitch."

"What did I tell you about this Bucky thing, huh?" She smirked, ignoring you. Again. "Come on, spill the beans! I wanna hear everything!"

You shook your head unamused. "Nope. No way."

She groaned. "Please? Nothing exciting is ever happening in this bar but now I have this! You!"

"How about you and Steve humping each other like bunnies?" You bit your inner cheeks to prevent your lips from smiling. "That's gotta be exciting."

"Let's not talk about me and Steve."

"So, it's okay if we talk about my sex life but not yours?"

"Exactly."

You frowned. "You're a weird friend."

"No." She leaned in. "I'm a miracle-worker that happens to be your new best friend, by the way — "

"Parker's my best friend — "

" — and you should at least thank me. I am more than welcome, by the way."

"Nat, if you don't stop I swear to God I'm gonna out you and Steve to the whole ass bar." You groaned, knocking your forehead against the table. Coincidentally, you could actually out them of the closet knowing they were actually doing it in one of the closets here in the bar (yes, you found a condom wrapper lying around one time. Knowing what had transpired in that small space, believe you me, you sprinted the fuck out of there).

"Ugh fine, fine." She said, making you stop banging your head and forcing you to look at her. "Just tell me this... Was it good?"

You rolled your eyes. "Fine, yes, it was good."

"Just good?"

You sighed in defeat, leaning back on the cushioned backrest of the booth. "It was the best I ever had." Nat bit her lip, hiding a squeal. "There. Ya happy?"

"Now, I'm curious! Please, y/n, you have to tell me. I gots to know! Okay, tell me, how big was he?"

"What?! No, I'm not gonna tell you that."

"Come on, I'll trade you Steve's."

"Ew, Nat! Gross!" You cringed. "I don't wanna know that!"

Then, she proceeded to move her hands in the opposite direction slowly, "tell me when to stop." You shook your head and just watched her in plain amusement as she continued to do it. Her jaw dropped. "Oh my god, this big? Seriously?"

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Come on, you told me about the time you kissed!"

"That's different." You scoffed. "This one's... intimate."

"Ooohhh, intimate. Well, I've never heard anyone describe sex that way."

"It was just different, okay? Good different." You replied. "And that's all I'm telling you."

She heaved a sigh, finally accepting the fact that you won't go anywhere past what you just told her. "Okay, at least you gave me something. Do you mind if I ask you something real, though? I swear this is the last time. It's not about sex, I promise."

Convinced, you nodded. "Go ahead."

"So, are you guys dating now? Or is it just, ya know, fooling around?"

You sat there, undoubtedly floored by the question. You had never even given it a thought. It never crossed your mind until Nat just made you realize the consequences of yesterday, last night and this afternoon, the inevitable. Were you dating? Will you ever talk about it? Is he even considering it? Or will you just continue to have sex without ever talking about dating?

"I, uh, I don't know. We didn't talk about it."

"Well, clearly there's gotta be something, right? That it's not just fooling around. I mean you said it was intimate, that it was good different — whatever that means." said Nat. "There's gotta be something deep?"

You looked at Natasha with astonishment, baffled by the things coming out of her mouth. Apparently,you were still on cloud nine to think about any kind of repercussion, to think about what could happen next to afterglow.

"I guess?"

"Do you like him?"

"Clearly, I do."

Unlike Nat, you were stunned by your answer. You answered that question faster than the speed of light.

She smirked at you in response. "You are so gonna fall in love."

"Shut your hole, Nat."

The door flew open suddenly, revealing Bucky and Sam, which got you up your feet. Instinctively and ignoring Nat, you approached him halfway and greeted him with a kiss which he gladly reciprocated, all the things you and Nat just talked about disappearing into this sweet, sweet kiss.

"Hey you." You breathed after pulling away from his lips.

"Hey, babydoll."

"Oh hey, Sam."

"Hey, babydoll." Sam mocked, a smirk playing on his lips. "That's a cute name. What is that? French?"

Bucky smacked his friend on the stomach, making Sam groan and glare at him. "So, it's not French?"

"Sam." Bucky warned which Sam only found funny.

Bucky kept his hand on your waist as you approached the booth, with Sam behind us. Nat, who was still sitting on the booth, cocked her head on the side and eyed Bucky up and down. "Bucky, Sam... This is Nat from the night before." You introduced them to each other before you made them sit in the booth.

"Do you boys want anything to drink?" Nat asked.

"We'll have scotch." Bucky replied, giving Nat a friendly smile. "On the rocks."

"Actually, I don't know how to make drinks, I just asked to be nice."

You rolled your eyes at Nat, laughing lightly. "Don't worry, I got them." You approached the counter and prepared the drinks while Nat followed your trail.

"Babydoll?" She asked. "Steve doesn't even have a nickname for me."

"Okay, I have to ask this since you already did it to me anyway." You said, pouring scotch on the glasses. "Are you and Steve dating? Or is it just, like you said, fooling around?"

"We're friends... with benefits."

"So, just fooling around then?" You asked.

"Yeah, you can put it that way."

"Aren't you worried he might want something more than that? Like a relationship? He does seem like a man who wants to settle, y'know."

"Aren't you worried your new boy toy might want something like that too?"

You fell silent just as you were about to finish the drinks. You weren't worried about that, no. You were worried about you, wanting something more, something you haven't had in a long time, something Bucky hasn't had.

"The chances of me and Steve getting even serious are very slim." She whispered. "But you and Bucky? Now, that's a big fat chance. It doesn't even matter how long you guys have known each other. If there's chemistry, then you can't do anything about it, and the way you described your whole thing with him? Babydoll," she smirked, proud of herself, "if that's not chemistry then I don't know what is."

"As far as I can remember, you're the one who told me to just 'go where the river takes you' and now you're confusing me with these things!" You hissed, looking over at the booth and making sure Bucky won't hear your little banter.

She rolled her eyes at you. "Okay, okay, okay... Allow me to paint you a picture, y/n."

"Paint me a picture — ?"

"Do you know where the river takes you? A waterfall." Nat cut youoff. "Now, right now, you're still on a boat, just gliding through the river, going where the flow takes you. Then some time now, you're gonna hit a fast stream until boom, waterfalls, and when you reach the top of the falls, inevitably, you're gonna fall... fall in love, that is, with the hunky rich man over there. See? Painting a picture. I can be smart too."

You kept Nat's words in the back of your mind until you gave Bucky and Sam their drinks, saving them for later. Nat had to go out for a while to smoke outside, leaving you, Sam and Bucky in the booth, discussing the project you had with Sam's line, updating you with all the dates and details. Seeing as you'll soon be leaving the bar by the end of the week, you offered to start first thing next week.

"But I could actually give you a little pitch presentation just before we start shooting," you added, "idea decks we can work with, like styles, and some mood boards that fit your whole apparel aesthetic. But first, I need to know your brand bible, like your target audience, the tone of your business — stuff like that — just so I can prepare for the presentation."

"Wow, you know a lot about the business industry." Sam replied, amused.

"I used to major in business and finance." You sighed. "It does come in handy with my photography."

Under the table, Bucky reached for your hand, interlacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand three times which elicited a smile.

"Oh, I can give you a tour!" Sam enthusiastically said. "We can go to the office and to some of the stores; maybe the one in Fifth Street. We've actually received the shipment for the new designs. We could discuss everything then. How does tomorrow sound? Bucky can come with ya."

"Tomorrow works, yes! Tomorrow's perfect." You agreed.

You broke out in a smile, leaning on Bucky's side who was more than glad to see you discussing with Sam about the project, squeezing you hand once more, three times.

"Then, it's settled!" Sam boomed. "Now, where's the toilet? I think I got a little too excited."

You threw you head back, laughing. "Right down the hall over there." You pointed.

As soon as Sam was gone, Bucky turned towards you and held your face with his hands, planting a soft kiss on your lips. "You sound so hot talking like that."

You chuckled, sliding closer towards him, your thighs brushing past each other. "You and your weird mind, Bucky I swear to God."

With his lips pressed on yours, you didn't even notice the door open, didn't even notice Steve walk in. You pulled away, hearing Steve clearing his throat. With your hands still on Bucky, you turned towards Steve, who was clearly entertained, and sent him a huge smile.

"H-hey, Rogers." You chuckled nervously. "You remember Bucky."

"Mr. Barnes." Steve nodded at Bucky.

"Mr. Rogers."

You frowned at their formal exchange. "Bucky's actually here with his friend, Sam Wilson. I'm starting a project with him for his business that'll start next week. We were just, uh, discussing the details."

"In his mouth?" Steve smirked.

"Steve." You hissed. "Not cool, man."

"So, where's this Sam Wilson?" Steve asked, looking to his right.

"On your left."

Steve turned around on his left at Sam's voice. Both men stared at each other for a while before introducing each other and shaking each other's hands. Weirded out, you turned to Bucky and asked if they knew each other, if the three of them knew each other (as you now remembered that time when Bucky and Steve met here in the bar).

Bucky shook his head no. "Maybe he's just one of those familiar faces you see on the street." He whispered, but as Steve went straight to his office, and as Sam got back in the booth, a weird tension surfaced that was cut off by Nat entering the bar, together with some customers who were more than happy to be the first ones here.

"That's my cue." You sighed, standing up and letting go of Bucky's hands before going to the counter and greeting the customers.

You felt your phone vibrate against your back pocket after a few seconds. You opened it, and on the screen was a message from Peter:

Sorry couldn't get to you sooner. Lost my charger on the way to the cabin! Schmidt didn't want me to borrow his until I did everything he told me to. Everything's great! I'll send you pictures when I can.

Hope Bucky's taking good care of you. Miss you, y/n. I'll see you in a few days!

Your fingers hovered on the screen as you glanced at Bucky who caught your eyes. He winked at you while taking a sip from his drink and licked his lip afterwards, eyeing you up and down.

Tell Schimdt I'll beat his ass when he comes back. See you in a few days, Parker!

A series of what happened between you and Bucky flashed in your mind, making you bite your lip.

And don't worry, Bucky's taking good care of me.

... such good care.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fan fiction #bucky fafiction #bucky barnes au #bucky au #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes story #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes

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artbivch · 2 years ago

Text

hee hee, accidentally tabbed out and lost the original chain I was following but found this bad boy by baeby-tc

1. describe your tc’s physical appearance.

As tall as me-ish, blonde, white but that slightly tanned white from going outside a lot.

2. What was the first thing you’ve ever said to your tc?

Probably “Here”

3. is your tc single or taken? or are you unsure? and are you single or taken?

Single afaik. I wish I was single sometimes, but I’m not about to break up with anyone for a crush

4. is your tc more of the athletic type, the nerdy type or the artsy type?

A little bit of all without being a lot of any. I know some nerd things about him, and he likes the outdoors, but he doesn’t seem to be super in shape and he’s not as artsy as some of the faculty—thank god

5. if you and your tc were in high school together, do you think you’d be friends?

Maybe? I’m pretty good at befriending randos who are lonely and introverted, but I have to be put in a class with them first. If we took art together then it’s possible.

6. name one song that reminds you of your tc and explain why that song reminds you of them.

Rufus Wainwright “The Art Teacher”

Need I say more?

7. is your tc fashionable or are they more of the simple type? what is one outfit you’d love to see them wear?

He wears plaid button downs with a t shirt underneath almost exclusively. I wish he’d wear more formal wear sometimes but

8. would you be willing to become a teacher and teach your tc’s subject if it meant you two could be together?

Oh absolutely, before the revenge of the crush on him, I was actually in a dual major program of art and education. I dropped the education part halfway through because I decided I don’t want to go straight into teaching when I graduate. I want to be able to explore the world and not be shackled back into the public school system right out of the gate. But also I would accept a TA position in a heartbeat

9. does your tc drink or smoke?

Don’t know about smoking or how much he drinks, but he had a beer or a cider of some sort once.

10. name one item that is always on your tc’s desk.

I haven’t seen his desk because the bastard’s never in his office, but he usually has a pencil behind his ear.

11. has your tc ever done anything that has either thrown you off, annoyed you, angered you or bothered you in any way? if so, what did they do?

He has absolutely no control over the students in the studio and what’s worse is the student he tends to hover over because he’s one of those annoying “oh I’ve never drawn before but I’m basically a prodigy out of nowhere” people. I’m not even mad at the guy for being a favorite I’m just annoyed at the fact he has the audacity to make some of the most photo realistic art within a few hours max and then leaves the studio a mess. I want to clobber this guy but I know I’d immediately get on the bad side of my tc.

The kid deserves my foot up his ass tho

12. does your tc have any past jobs that you know of, before becoming a teacher?

No clue. He doesn’t talk much without being prompted and I’m too anxious to pry out those details without being worried he’d immediately notice how desperate I am

13. does your tc have kids or siblings? if so, how many?

Pretty sure no to kids, but yes to siblings? I think he has a brother.

14. are you taking your tc’s class next year?

Yep! He’ll be my teacher for the full year and I’m gonna try to slip into his summer course post-graduation

15. has your tc ever met your parents? if you were there, what was the meeting like?

Nope and unless fantasy casually breaks into reality, hopefully he never will.

16. has your tc ever given you detention? if so, what was it like?

no but he did once tell me I was using too much of the cleaner undiluted and four months later I still feel bad about it because it espensive ;-;

17. has your tc ever failed you? if so, how did you react? if not, how would you react?

This feels a little dramatic, I think the worst it’s been is I had to wait an hour and a half for him to show up in a van so I could get my camping supplies out.

18. what are your tc’s hobbies/interests? are they similar to yours?

He seems to enjoy physical arts (he made a comment once about why do digital art when you’ve got a pen and paper lmao), which I’m more of a fan of too. He also seems to be outdoorsy and a fan of nature, which I tend to admire from afar. But also I’m not one to hike alone so I don’t know if I’d be more into it with someone

19. have you ever spoken on the phone with your tc? what did you talk about?

no but I harassed him for taking his sweet time when he told me I had to rush to the meeting site if I wanted my camping stuff back

20. if you had your tc’s class during quarantine, what were your zoom calls like? if not, have you spoken to your tc since quarantine?

I didn’t have him during quarantine, but I’ve been in a group zoom call with him. A second teacher led pretty much all of the discussion and he just sorta stared at things behind the screen like a squirrel

21. if you had the chance to go anywhere in the world with your tc, where would you go? what would you do?

We talkin fantasy or somewhat reality? Fantasy we goin’ to some cool foreign city and banging. Reality, I think I’d just like to go on another camping trip, except this time with maybe a few less people

22. does your tc have any nicknames for you?

No but he used to use my high school nickname because he thought it was funny when I told him. When he remembered the nickname (because there was a three year hiatus where I didn’t have him we’d just sometimes run into each other) he laughed at it again. It’s a pretty fun nickname lol

23. have you ever cried in front of your tc? why? how did they react?

No which is surprising because I cried today after seeing a really cute bee video

24. have you ever walked/drove to/from school with your tc?

No but I’ve recently learned we live within a few blocks of each other so *fingers crossed*

25. do you know which teachers your tc is friends with at school? if so, do you like those teachers?

I’ve seen him interact with some teachers and I know he’s friends with one that although I haven’t had him he seems rad. The other teachers are ones that are either pretty okay or ones that my friends have had and either 100% hated/loved with no in between. So that’s interesting. He seemed to idolize the teacher who was the old head of the department he shifted to like I did so we have that in common (although I had the privilege of learning under the old teacher for a couple years which was dope)

26. what does your tc’s voice sound like?

A little raspy. Not like smoker raspy, just like, aged.

27. do you like your tc as a teacher? are they a good teacher?

He’s not the most influential teacher I’ve had, but I really enjoy his style and methods. Plus he genuinely cares about the students even though he’s too introverted to show it most of the time.

28. does your tc prefer books, shows or movies?

Don’t know, he seems like a book guy and older media person

29. is your tc stern or easy going, in class?

Easy going to a fault. It’s great until people take advantage of it.

30. how would you describe you and your tc’s relationship?

Friendly, hopefully maybe even peers to an extent when I graduate? I’m super bad at keeping in touch so it’d rely on me involving myself in the community more and hoping we run into each other oops

31. do you address your tc by their first or last name?

First name, but everyone calls him by that

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headinthestaticsky · 3 years ago

Text

Sanctuary with the Enthralling Moon: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 3

Authors notes: I’ve been listening to a lot more of Bank’s music (The girl in the picture) and I’ve become obsessed with her music again... Listen to her Album “Goddess.” if you like R&B and some Trip hop it’s great! My personal favorites on there is “Before I Ever Met You” and “Bedroom Walls” but all the songs on there are great.

Another note: I changed the plot up for New Moon, so I hope it doesn’t ruin anything for you guys.

All rights go to Stephenie Meyer for the characters she created.

“She lives in daydreams with me

She's the first one that I see

And I don't know why

I don’t know who she is.”

She by, Harry Styles

The annoying buzz of my phone woke me up, it had been buzzing so long that it had fallen to the floor. When I picked it up, I answered not looking at the number.

“Ugh... it’s way to early in the morning for phone calls who is this?”

“How did you find me?”

“Jasper? What are you talking about.”

“I saw you... you where across the street from me, looking at me. You were in a white night grown.”

“Jasper... I haven’t left Forks at all.”

“H-how did I see you then?”

“I’m not sure love, I promise though... I haven’t left.”

The line went silent, neither of us knew what to say.

“So... what are you doing at your new place?”

“Well, I started attending a local college, I’m studying philosophy. Carlisle got a job at night.”

“Oh.”

“What about you? What’re you doing?”

“Oh, I’ve decided to take a year off of school. I’ve been writing stuff, painting... it’s been nice. You should see this latest painting I made, it’s massive... I’ll send you a picture when it’s done.”

“It sounds grand...It nice to hear your voice again.”

“Yeah... it’s nice to hear your voice too. You know I was thinking... going to a creative arts school sounds really good to me right now...”

“You should do it, I’ve seen some of your work... it’s incredible.”

“Thanks love... Hey, I was meaning to ask you this in the morning but, have you heard from Edward?”

“No, he isn’t living with us.”

“Well, his bright idea of breaking up with Bella was to leave her in the woods... alone... AT NIGHT. For a vampire, Edward is the biggest dumb ass I have ever met in my entire life.”

“Wow... I don’t even know what to say... How is Bella?”

“She’s a manic depressive mess, she hasn’t left her room since she got back from the woods.”

“She hasn’t talked to you at all?”

“No, she just stares out of her window... but when she does look at me she gives me looks that aren’t exactly inviting either... She still pretty much hates my guts. I don’t know what she has to be pissed off at me about I’m the one who should be giving her death glares.”

“I don’t either...”

“I still don’t want her to be like this, she’s looking bad Jazz... it’s kinda scary.”

“Listen, I gotta go, you need some sleep... I’ll talk to you later one today... I better get my photo.” Jasper demanded playfully.

“I shall deliver my love, talk to you later.”

“Love you darlin.”

“Love you too.” I hung up a second later.

It was strange... Jasper had exactly described what had happened in my dream. I didn’t recognize the area, it looked remote though. It was confusing really, how my dreams to seem to have a power in some way. I didn’t know how though, I was a human.... nothing more than human. The Cullens seemed to be following the same pattern they did here. The area being small and remote and full of woods and cloudy. Before I faded off to sleep I thought of what I could do the next day... I could visit Leah, it had been so long since I’ve seen her. I’d have to thank Sam for getting Bella out of the woods too.

Morning had come, I felt exhausted but, I knew I couldn’t stay in the house. I had to get out, it was good for me. My painting would have to wait for it’s completion. I pulled out a tight, light grey turtle neck, black skirt, and stockings since it was probably freezing outside. I went downstairs, a huge smile was plastered on my face. For some reason, it was the happiest I had ever been these past 2 days.

“What’s got you so happy this morning?” Dad asked.

I looked around, making sure Bella wasn’t in the room.

“I got a call from Jasper... it was nice. He told me started going to college this year.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Did he say how the family is doing?”

“Oh yeah, they’re good but a bit tired. Carlisle got a job but it’s at night so his sleeping schedule is all messed up.”

“Oh yeah working nights, that’s rough.”

“Hey dad, does Harry Clearwater still live at the same address?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I was wanting to see his daughter Leah, I haven’t seen her since I was a kid.”

“That’s sounds like a great idea... have some balance between Jasper and your friends.”

“Yeah, it’ll be good for me.”

“Did you hear everything that happened last night?”

“No... what happened?”

“Bella was screaming at the top of her lungs in her sleep...”

“Oh my god... that’s horrible.”

“I’m thinking about sending her back to live with her mother... she’s scaring the hell out of me.”

“It sounds like a good idea in theory dad but... I don’t she’ll leave willingly.”

“I can try, she’s in a lot of pain right now... maybe seeing her mother will help her out.”

“Maybe...”

“You better get going, the drive is kinda long down to Harry’s.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later dad, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Driving down to Harry’s house had brought back memories, just like the drive down to La Push. Hopefully this time, it would go better than last time. As soon as I pulled up Harry had come out of the house, a huge smile was on his face.

“Well look who it is, Fleur Swan... I can recognize that car from anywhere.”

“Good to see you again Harry, thank you again for helping us find Bella.”

“No problem, I’d help with dad out with anything.”

“Dad? Who are you talking to out?”

“Leah, hey... it’s been a while.”

“Fleur? Is that you? The same girl I use to push in the freezing cold water when we were kids?” Leah said, her voice was filled with shock.

“Alive and in the flesh.”

Leah walked up to me, she smiled and pulled me in for a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you again!”

“Nice to see you to, I was thinking to myself last night it was about time I make a visit down here.”

“I’m glad you did... really I am.”

“I’ll leave you two girls alone now.” Harry said, he got back inside the house.

“We have somethings to catch up on don’t we?” Leah said.

“Yeah we do.”

“Let’s go for a walk down on the beach.”

“Sure, as long as you don’t push me into the water.”

“No promises.”

We walked in silence to the beach, it was nice though. The cool wind and ocean waves was comforting.

“So... how’s everything going?” I asked.

“It’s been better...I started dating Sam in high school but... somethings happened.”

“What? Are you okay?”

“I’ll live but, Sam started dating Emily... and they’re engaged now actually.”

“What the hell... what is wrong with him.”

“I know it’s completely messed up... Speaking of Sam, before we broke up he told me you were dating someone, he told me he was a Cullen. Is that true.”

“It depends, are you going to react the same way Sam did?”

“What did he do?”

“He grabbed me by the arms and screamed in my face, I had bruises on my arms for a solid week.”

“No, I won’t do that, I promise. I do want to rip Sam’s head off even more now.”

“Yes, I am dating one of them, Jasper is his name.”

“I won’t tell you how to live your life regarding that, just... be careful.”

“I will... I was going to see Sam after this but, I don’t think I want to now.”

“Hey, don’t stop being friends with Sam just because of me. Just because I hate his guts doesn’t mean you have to as well.”

“What he did to you was messed up Leah... I would kill someone if they did that to me.”

“Just, come around more... that’ll make it up for you being friends with him.”

“I will, I promise, you should come over to my place sometime too, I’d love to have you there.”

“That sounds great Fleur, thanks.

“No problem.”

We had spent the entire day on the beach, it was beautiful. It was nice to catch up with Leah... she hadn’t changed much. She was just hurt, she felt bitter about Sam and Emily. If I was her, I would feel the same way. We made our way back to Leah’s house. Harry was sitting on the porch.

“It was good to see you again Fleur, you should come over more often.” Harry offered.

“I definitely will, you should come down to my place too, Dad’s been itching for a hunting trip.”

“Tell him I said hi, and I’m ready whenever he is.”

“I will, bye Harry, bye Leah... It was nice to be over!”

“See you later Fleur, thanks for coming by.”

“See you later.”

When I got back home, the sun had just started to set, The lights in the living room where on so I assumed dad was up.

“Hey dad I’m home!”

I didn’t get a reply, I walked in the living room and was shocked to see Bella sitting on one of the couches.

“Bella, hey...”

“Don’t even try to talk to me.”

“What, what?”

“I know this was your fault, Edward leaving.”

“Bella are you serious right now?”

“Yes I am, you never wanted to see me happy... you’re getting what you wanted now.”

“Bella... I didn’t tell the Cullens to leave, why would I do that? You do realize Edward leaving got Jasper to leave too right?”

“Oh please, you were out with him all day today don’t even lie.”

“I wasn’t Bella, I was with Leah.”

“Really? So you haven’t talked to him at all since he left.”

“No, I haven’t.” I lied.

“Whatever... just get out of my face.”

I turned and walked away... I was surprised I didn’t snap at her. My mood was exceptional today. I went out back to see if dad was there, he was. He was sitting out back on a lawn chair with a beer, staring out into the woods behind our house.

“Hey dad.”

“Hey Petal, Harry called, he said that you really helped Leah out today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he said she’s been pretty depressed lately and she’s been really angry too. He said that was the happiest she had been in a while.”

“That’s good... I saw Bella finally got out of her bedroom.”

“Yeah, she did. I didn’t except her to for a while, she went to school today too.”

“Oh wow, did you say anything about her going back with mom?”

“Yeah and you were right, she completely freaked out on me. She told me she was going out tonight though with her friend, Jessica.”

“Oh that’s good, she hasn’t left her room for like 4 days.”

“Has she talked to you at all?”

“No... not at all.” I lied, I didn’t want him to worry about Bella and I’s fighting for right now.

I sat out with Dad in the backyard until late tonight. When we went inside, Bella had just come back from her night out with Jessica. Bella looked like she had a crazed look in her eyes. It was kinda scary... her mood had switched so quick from earlier today. It looked like she sky dived or something. When I went to bed, I had another dream... I was in a house this time, it was clean and stylish. When I walked into another room, Jasper was there he looked up hearing my footsteps and his eyes widened. Before I could say anything however, the dream faded to black.

POV Change: Jasper’s

I was by myself tonight, Alice, Dean, Rosalie, Esme, and Emmett had all gone out hunting for the night Carlisle was at work. I sitting in my room reading some books when I heard footsteps coming near me. I looked up, a familiar pair of dark browns eyes met mine. I was in shock, I’m seeing her again... what is happening to me? Before I could ask her anything she disappeared in thin air.

#jasper hale x oc #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #rosalie hale #edward cullen #alice cullen #esme cullen #emmett cullen #carlisle cullen

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fleetwoodmak99 · 4 years ago

Text

Primed for Sin (5/10)

SUMMARY: Arthur tends to keep his promise to give Elena space but after days of pure torture from his job and Randall down his throat about the gun, he just can't stay away anymore.

WARNING: SMUT (18+), Loss of Virginity, Dirty Talk, Oral (F Receiving), Vaginal Penetration, Murder, Talks of Blood, Smoking, Swearing

Hi. So I’m sorry it took me way too long to get this out but I hope to make it up with this part finally having smut in it and it being longer. I hope its not too long lol. I just started school back up and it definitely takes up all my time but hopefully once things settle down I’ll have more time to work on this series. I hope I don’t disappoint and thank you for those who actually follow this story.

Part 4

It has been four day since his last conversation with Elena. Four damn days.

He did as he promised, he stayed away and gave her space. He respected that sometimes she would need a break from the world but it was a lot harder than he had originally anticipated.

Arthur hate to admit it but Elena practically dominated every single one of his thoughts. He wondered what she was doing, who she was with, when was she going to call.

The downside to this was his brain never stopped so he isn't able to stop himself from falling down the rabbit hole multiple time the past few days. His mother had gotten very ill and had been taken to the hospital. As much as he loved his mother, he was glad she was someone else problem now.

Arthur walked into his apartment, his legs felt like they were going to fall off as he started to take off his clown gear from being at work all day. He switched on the TV and turned it to the local news station. Arthurs been trying to fill his time with watching the news to keep up with any advancements in the subway case.

To his dismay, they had.

"Police are now looking for what seems to be a killer clown responsible for the killing of Wall Street brokers Dennis Reynolds, Ronald Ponderosa, and Ben Kelly." The female anchor spoke professionally through the screen.

Arthur grabbed a cigarette, sparking it up and took a drag of it as he finally sat down and inspects the photos presented by the police. It was of a fake clown with green, blue and pink laced all over it. The women continued to speak, "only one witness has come forward, describing the scene as a massacre."

His heart dropped. Did she tell someone?

Arthur's thoughts were put to rest when an old man popped up on the screen. The man was short and had white hair already dominating most of his head.

Arthur watched as the man started to make his testimony.

"Well you see, I was going about my normal business heading to work when I saw a man wearing some sort of clown mask running up out of the subway. I thought I heard a women screaming but when I went to check what was wrong, I only found the three poor souls that sick clown left behind. People like that just can't get away with things like this. Justice has to be served."

Arthur couldn’t listen anymore, he could feel his anger boiling. His thought switching to Elena. It had been for days now but he told himself to hold on just a little bit longer. It was starting to get too much to bare when he sees people like that getting more attention on the TV than people who actually deserve it.

There was so much wrong with this city. That was one of Arthur's reasons he wanted to always be around Elena, even when she didn't know it. It was the only way to effectively protect her.

Arthur was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a loud bang at the door.

________________________________________________________________

Randall could tell that Arthur had been acting strange. He's more distant, only caring to talk when someone addresses him. Its been like this for a few days, ever since the city went into an uproar over the subway killings.

Normally, Randall wouldn't give a shit but with him giving a gun to Arthur and all, he wanted to make sure his name was in the clear. So he made his way down to Arthurs apartment to give him a talk. That was a mistake.

Opening the door, Arthur still had his clown makeup on from work. He looked in bad shape.

“Arthur!” Randall shouted. “How you doin pal?” He gave Arthur a pat on the shoulder before pushing his was into the mans apartment.

Arthur’s apartment was filthy. It had clothes laying aimlessly all over the place with a mountain of dishes piled in the sink. Not that Randall’s apartment was any better.

Randall turned to Arthur, who was closing the door. “Anything new?”

“Umm oh!” Arthur snapped his fingers at Randall as he locked the door behind him. “I stopped taking my medication, I feel a lot better now.” Arthur gave out a small forced laugh but his face was completely dead.

Randall looked at Arthur confused. “Oh okay. Good for you.”

Arthur just nodded his head, taking a drag of his cigarette as Randall continued. “So hey, I don’t know if you heard but the cops have been coming around the shop talking to all the other guys about the subway murders.”

Arthur started to tone the man out, not wanting to listen to him try and explain himself. He reached his hand out and started to put out his cigarette, slowing forming his hands into a fist against the wall.

“I’m not saying you did anything but I just wanna make sure if the cops talk to you, we are all on the same page about who gave you that gun.” Randall gave out a nervous laugh.

That was enough for Arthur to slowly move his hand towards for the knife that laid on the dining room table behind him. Nodding his head in agreement as he did so, so Randall wouldn’t notice.

“You know, cause your my boy in all.” Arthur now had his hand on the knife. Arthur felt everything he had pushed down the past four days starting the boil over as he made a fist around the knife handle.

“Right. Right.” Arthur agreed before squeezing the knife and deciding to give into his anger.

Now.

He slashed the knife into Randall’s neck before he could say another word. Arthur was surprised with how much blood came out but he held the knife in place as Randall struggled against him.

Randal was able to push Arthur off but only for Arthur to grab his head and bash it into the wall. This was when Arthur blacked out.

He wasn’t Arthur anymore. He had been changing into something else the moment he meet Elena. Arthur was becoming more powerful and he wanted to share that with her.

Only thinking of her as he stormed out of his apartment, not caring about the mess he had just made. He found himself at her apartment door, blood soaked, face painted and rage filled.

Arthur didn’t give it any thought and started to bang on her door. This was it. No more holding back, no more space. They were meant to be together and he was done denying himself that.

________________________________________________________________

Elena sat on the couch smoking while the Murray Show played on the tv. She could feel the smoke leaving her lungs as she exhaled. Michael had gone down later than usual so she wasn’t able to have her normal alone time.

She jumped when she heard a bang at the front door. Elena looked at the door confused, she wasn’t expecting anyone. She quickly hid her bong under a blanket and rushed to the door.

Opening it, she was startled to see Arthur standing there. She didn’t even have time to examine him as he immediately pushed himself against her and smashed his lips into hers.

Elena couldn’t help but close her eyes in shock. She didn't fight against him, instead it was almost of an embrace. She couldn’t believe how her body just couldn’t help but give into him.

Pushing the both of them inside the apartment, he placed both of his hands on either side of her face so she wouldn't be able to break the kiss even if she wanted to. Eventually she felt the cool wall being pushed against her back, being pinned there.

When she felt Arthur release her lips, she finally let out a breath. He kept her body close, their faces only inches apart. She could feel his hot breath on her face but didn’t dare open her eyes. He placed his forehead on hers. “I thought you were gonna call.”

She let out a small breath, almost laughing. “I-I’m sorry.” She innocently whispered.

That sweet voice tore into Arthur like knives. His dick already hard for her. He couldn’t wait any more, he needed to be inside her.

“Don’t worry sweet girl. I’m gonna take care of you tonight. Where is Michael?” She then opened her eyes to see Arthur dark ones staring into hers. She could now see the painted faced man covered in small specks of red looking at her hungrily.

“Ummm,” She cleared her throat. Elena had to admit, he looked so sexy like that. She tried pulling herself together to answer his question. “He’s asleep in his room.”

Arthur smiled wickedly at her, pleased with answer. “Good. Good.”

He gave her a few more deep kisses on the lip, soaking in the taste before lifting her up and wrapping her legs around him.

Breaking away for a moment, he asked. “Bedroom?”

She was hesitant. Was this really gonna happen? Right now? Was she ready for all that? She wanted him. Elena couldn’t deny that. After everything, she was still willing to have a relationship with him.

He waited for her response patiently. Not rushing her. Eventually she gave into her desire and pointed Arthur in the right direction. A wicked smile appearing across his face as he leaned in again. She too leaned into the kiss this time, not fighting it either. They made their way towards the bedroom.

Taking his time, he slowly placed her on the bed. Not breaking the kiss but somehow deepening it by entering his tongue in her mouth. He pinned her there for a moment. He seemed to like to play with her. Their tongue swirling around each others mouth, trying to explore every part of each other.

She could feel his hands moving all over her body. It felt amazing to have such big hands on her body. They clawed at her breast, her ass, eventually making its way towards her pussy. Elena grabbed his hand out of instinct.

Arthur immediately stopped his movements, worried that he had crossed the line. She tried desperately to control her breathing and tried to speak. “I-I’m sorry Arthur. I-I-I’ve never done this before.”

Elena could actually die from the embarrassment she felt telling him how inexperienced she was. It was put to shame when he gave her a sweet smile. She could just melt looking at the face painted man.

He leaned his forehead on hers. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you tonight. Just listen to me. Okay?”

She nodded, giving in almost immediately.

With that, he leaned into her again, completely taking control as he reconnected their lips and started gently taking off her clothes, one by one.

Elena now laid there, completely naked and exposed for him. She felt a sense of vulnerability, she wasn't able to hide anything from Arthur now. He didn't want her too. He wanted to hear and see everything.

She felt cool air hit her body as she anxiously waited for Arthurs next move. He gazed at her, taking a full look at what he picture in his mind a million time before. She exceeded his every expectation.

“You are so beautiful, Elena.” He spoke to her like she was the only people left in the whole world.

Elena gave out a small whimper, reaching her hand out for him. He obeyed as he slapped messy kisses all over her neck. She turned her head so he could have more access. She wanted him to feel every part of her.

Arthur started to kiss his way down her neck, towards her breasts. She ached her back at the sensation of Arthur taking one of her sensitive nipples into his mouth. Her eyes were forced shut when he started to softly started to suck.

Elena moved against him, jerking and twitching to the new experience of having someone’s mouth on her. She clawed at his back, digging in her nail as she felt a warm feeling starting to pool around pussy. It was something she never felt before but it over powered every nerve in her body.

She felt as Arthur started to kiss down her stomach. Elena knew where he was heading.

Her eyes shot open as excitement and nerves when she felt his hot breath at her entrance. She came to see Arthur at the end of the bed. His hands now on the inside of her thigh, spreading her apart so her pussy was now on full display for him.

Putting his face just inches away, he spoke to her. "We gotta get this pussy nice and wet for me to fuck."

Her eyes widened from the vulgarity Arthur was showing. She didn't know if she should be scared or if she should be excited.

She soon found out when Arthurs tongue started to explore her, placing small kitten licks all around. It was so weird. At first Elena didn't even find the point until he latched himself onto her clit.

Immediately feeling a burst of pleasure go through her body, her head feel back as she let Arthur go to work. Feeling as he flicked and sucked at her. She bucked her hip towards him, she could feel the burning sensation of her clit being abused and loved every second of it.

Without even meaning to, Elena start to moan Arthurs names. Begging him to keep going as she brushed a hand through his hair, grabbing it kindly and pushing his head towards her core in order to chase that incredible release.

But of course it never came. Arthur was able to break from her grip and stepped away from her now deprived pussy.

Elena pouted in response, now having no way to release herself.

"I know. I know." Arthur caressed her cheek tenderly. "All in good time darling. We gotta take things slow for your first time."

Arthur gave her a quick peek on the lips before stepping back and discarding his own clothes. Elena just notice she was the only one naked until now. A flow of shame washed over her.

Arthur must have noticed the humiliation she had felt because as his clothes hit the floor he started to ramble, placing small kisses all over her face.

"You are so beautiful. I-I thought of you everyday like this and still you outdo my imagination every time. I-I can't believe your mine."

Her heart leaped hearing this. No man has ever said such things to her and now the perfect man was completely bare before her.

Looking down at his package, she couldn't help but gasp. She'd never seen one before and she certainly didn't think it would be that. Also how did he expect that thing to get inside her? It was huge compared to what she was used to.

Arthur breaking his line of kisses to rest his lips back on her for a moment, "its going to hurt honey but don't you worry ok? You are going to feel real good soon. I promise."

It was going to hurt?

Elena never thought it would hurt but she knew she wanted Arthur inside her so she leaned into him. Sticking her tongue in his mouth to show him she was ready.

Arthur chucked at her, his hand slowly making it way in between her legs in an attempt to see just how ready she was. Feeling a puddle of wetness forming for him, he broke the kiss again.

"Nice and wet. Just for me." He then pumped himself a few times before lining himself up at her entrance. “Are you ready, sweetheart.?”

This was it. She thought. This is actually happening.

Giving a hesitant nod, she sucked in her breath as she felt the tip of his dick dip inside her. Feeling a piercing pain burst through her, she jolted away from him but didn’t get anywhere when she felt Arthurs hands gently holding her there.

“Shh shh shh I know. We just gotta get through this part.”

Arthur didn’t even give her time to respond before thrusting his hips into her at a painfully slow pace. Elena practically screamed at the feeling. It was so much to take.

The feeling of being stretched out by him was so intoxicating she couldn’t even help but close her eyes and focus on the sensation. It definitely hurt but she couldn’t help but love the feeling of him filling her up. It made her feel whole.

Elena couldn’t believe the man was able to fit himself in as deep as he was. She could feel him in her stomach as she tried to force herself to relax. She felt herself clenching against him, trying to adjust when he spoke again. This time, right into her ear

“You are so damn tight. Tighter than I could have ever imagined. I’m going to move sweetheart.”

Elena tried opening her eyes but some unknown force kept them shut. Instead she let out a small whimper. The pain had yet to subside as she twitched against him but unable to say no, she nodded her head.

This was all Arthur needed to push himself out before slamming back into her. It was slow but strong. Elena's whole body bucked to the sensation.

Again. Slowly taking himself out of her before smashing his hard cock back into her now drench pussy.

He repeated this.

As much as the pain wanted to make her cry it was soon replaced with pleasure. The same feeling she had felt before when Arthur was in between her legs, completely devouring her. Elena involuntarily started to buck her hip towards Arthur.

Now creating friction in between them as he started to move faster, pounding into her. The room filling with both their moans.

“Oh Arthur! Please don’t stop.”

Elena hoped Arthur locked the door. Knowing her luck, Michael would coming walking right in with all the noise they were making but she could help herself.

Arthur was ruthless with his thrusting. His hands were holding her against him as he did so. Elena started to chase for her release once again. Grinding against him as he continued to pound her.

"Say it." He whispered in her ear, not letting up.

"What?" Elena whispered back. Knowing fully well what he was talking about just not ready to take that step.

"Say it and ill let you cum." Arthur was stir and dominate. It only added to Elena arousal.

"I-I-I," Elena was so over powered by pleasure that it trumped her fear of opening that box, she couldn't help but fall into his trap just to get her sweet release. "I love you Arthur."

Arthur growled in her ear, biting down on it lightly. He then pumped deep insider, hitting that special spot that sent her soaring. "Good girl. I love you so much."

That was her cue to let go completely. As the warm feeling in her stomach erupted and burst through her entire body. Making the poor girl shake against Arthur, losing control of her body.

Elena clenched hard against Arthur, making the man groan as he too came inside her.

Shit. He didn't wear a condom. Of course he didn't. Elena was his now.

Elena slowly came down from her high as Arthur pulled out of her. Making his rightly place on the left side of her bed, pulling her limp body close to him.

She felt a big pair of muscular arm wrap themselves around her, feeling a sense of protection fall upon her.

"Get some rest now, sweetheart. Your most likely going to be sore tomorrow and am going it need your rest." Elena felt at peace as she nuzzled her head into his neck. Letting herself close her eyes as she slipped into a deep sleep, dreaming of the man she just gave her innocence to.

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