#and i am amazed and delighted and relieved to find that LOOK it is somehow now visible and it WAS an extra prompt
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For the kiss prompts, Six & Peri with prompt 23?
ahhhhh! hello!
Please forgive my non-response to this prompt, but ever since I did this meme back in October, my tumblr inbox has been telling me I have 1 extra message I can't see and now, SUDDENLY, out of absolutely nowhere, today, I can see the invisible message!! And this is it!!!!
Ahem. *calms down*
Anyway, I was not ignoring you @monarchetype or the prompt, tumblr just made it a magic, invisible ask until idk booping revealed it? (Who can understand the ways of tumblr??)
I will have a think about the prompt, too. <3 Thank you for sending it!
#replies#monarchetype#!!!#asks#forgive the slight ott-ness of this reply#but the 1 invisible message thing has been annoying me ever since.#and i am amazed and delighted and relieved to find that LOOK it is somehow now visible and it WAS an extra prompt#what. tumblr. what????
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Your writing is amazing, and all those prompts are great! :) Could I request number 17 for Saeyoung with a female MC? Hurt/Comfort, and NSFW, please. Thank you so much, have a great day!
THANK YOU! <3
So here, let me tell you what happened...
I looked at this prompt and I thought about Saeyoung (let’s be real, I’m always thinking about Saeyoung) and my brain screamed CABIN, CABIN, and I realized...oh my god, in all the thousands of words of Saeyoung X Reader fanfiction I’ve written, I’ve somehow never written my version of their (probably) canon first time.
So I DID IT! And it’s long af cause...well, of course it is.
seventeen: i came here for sanctuary
Saeyoung X Reader, E (M/F sex), words: 6930 (!!)
Smut warning, proceed with caution ♡
・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・
The sun sinks behind the trees, the last streaks of yellow melting from the sky. Gravel crunches beneath the sleek little car’s wheels as it slows to a stop. The only light is from the phone in your hand—you can’t see anything outside the windows but dark, dark, dark.
“Wait,” Saeyoung whispers. “Just a minute.”
He turns off the car and without its rumbling the silence feels louder. You sit absolutely still and your heart pounds.
Saeyoung holds out his hand and, wordlessly, you pass him his phone. He pulls up a new GPS, one you don’t know how to read; zooms in; breathes a sigh of relief.
“Okay,” he says, louder. “We’re safe here.”
With that, he flings open the door, and you realize you must have absolute trust in him after all as you follow suit, stepping out into the unknown.
Outside, you can see a little more. There’s no moon tonight, but the stars are huge here, and by their light you make your way around the car, stand beside Saeyoung as he opens the trunk. He passes your backpack to you and slings the other, larger bag over his shoulder. He does this quickly, quietly, as if it’s a routine. Finding a safe house in the dark, unpacking the car in silence—for him, you suppose, it is a routine.
“Um, maybe we should—” He hesitates, awkwardly holds out a hand to you. You grin.
“Do you still need an excuse to hold my hand?” You slip your hand into his larger, warmer one, and he interlaces his fingers with yours.
“I’ll take any excuse I can get,” he says, winking, and you feel calmer. You’d follow this man to the ends of the earth, you think.
Hand-in-hand, you walk up the gravel path. You can see now that he’s parked beside a smallish cabin—it looks built by hand, the kind you’ve seen in reality shows (“fashionable young couple leaves it all behind for a rustic cabin in the woods!”) You weren’t sure things like this existed. Of course they do, you tell yourself. Stupid.
Saeyoung pulls a ring of keys you’ve never seen before out of the side pocket of his bag and spins it around, inserting a little, unlabelled key into the door. You raise your eyebrows.
“Come here often?”
He laughs and the sound warms you up from the inside: you loved his laugh the very first time you heard it, what feels like a lifetime ago. You love the way he giggles when you tease him and the way he cackles when he’s proud of himself and the way he laughs like this—bubbly, like he finds everything you do and say impossibly delightful.
“It’s actually an old agency hideout,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea at first, but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s been here for years.”
He pushes the door open and you follow him inside; you’re immediately hit by a wave of cold and a damp, musky scent. You don’t mind it—it reminds you of the basement of the home you lived in as a child.
“I think there’s…somewhere around here…” He pushes ahead, muttering to himself, and you wait in the doorway, keeping it cracked so he can see by the lights of the stars. “Ah-ha!” A dim light flickers on.
Saeyoung sighs, turning around to survey the room.
“This isn’t a place for someone like you,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the furnishings—it’s a single room, with an out-of-use fireplace and some boxes full of you-don’t-want-to-know-what stacked in one corner. There’s also a little work station and (you feel a little thrill dance up your spine) a single, slightly lumpy bed pushed against the back wall.
Nice bed. Plenty of room for…activities, whispers a voice in the back of your mind—it’s a gremlin, you think, a silly, horny gremlin, hiding in the recesses of your imagination. Shut up, you tell the gremlin.
“I like it,” you say aloud. “I could live here.” You shut the door and the click echoes in the little room.
You feel Saeyoung’s eyes on you and turn; he’s still standing in the middle of the room, watching you with a sort of reverence on his face.
“You’re amazing,” he says.
Leap into his arms and kiss him breathless, the gremlin says, and you bite your lip, hushing your inner voice. Your neck feels hot.
“You’re the amazing one,” you tell him. For some reason the air in the cabin is reverberating like a plucked string and you’re afraid if you get any closer to him the string will snap. You edge around the outer wall, drop your backpack on the bare mattress, perch on the edge of the bed. “You got us this far.”
He turns to follow you with his eyes, watching as you nervously fiddle with the straps of your bag. There’s a strange expression on his face and you don’t know what to do with your body.
He shakes his head as if to clear it and then abruptly turns from you, crosses to the little desk on the opposite wall, starts pulling things out of his bag with a little too much fervor.
“Will you be okay for a while?” he asks quietly, his back turned. “I just have to…” He waves a hand at the two laptops he’s set on the desk.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
He turns to look at you now, and he’s still got that strange, conflicted look on his face. He starts to say something, stops himself. Swallows.
“You can try and keep yourself warm,” he says. “The fireplace would be too big a risk, if it even still works, but check the closet by the bathroom. I think there’s a space heater in there, and there should definitely be blankets.”
And before you can respond he’s all business again, plugging things into other things; there’s already a low hum emitting from one of the computers.
So you do as you’re told: slip out of your shoes, pad across the unfinished wood floor in your thick socks. Open the closet, start peering into the mysterious boxes there. Find, by some miracle, the old, dusty space heater. Get it going.
You wrap yourself up as tightly as you possibly can in one of the thick, stiff blankets you found neatly folded in the closet and curl up on the bare mattress. And you wait.
Time passes.
The sound of his keyboard is like a lullaby to you, nowadays, and you drift between sleep and wakefulness, your head swimming with thoughts of him: the beautiful curve of his cheekbones as he drives into the sunset, the buzzy delight of his fingers on your thigh, the cautious way he brushes his lips over yours on those brief, stolen moments of rest between driving, driving, driving…
The typing stops and your eyes fly open, blinking at him through the flickering light from the single lamp. His back is straight; his fingers aren’t moving.
You call his name. Repeat it.
“Yeah?” His voice sounds rough and you untangle your legs from the blanket. You want to ask if he’s okay but already know the answer.
“How’s it going?” you ask instead—vaguely, lamely. You twist the thick fabric of the blanket in your fingers. What a silly, meaningless question.
“We’ll definitely catch up to him tomorrow,” Saeyoung says hollowly. You consider going to him, wrapping your arms around his tense shoulders, but you don’t know if he’ll let you—the physical affection between you is so new, so tenuous.
“I’m glad,” you say, because it’s the truth.
He twists around in his chair to peer at you. There are familiar dark circles under his eyes, worry written on his soft features.
“You’re not scared?” he asks.
“A little,” you tell him. “But I trust you.”
He sighs, pushes his glasses up, runs one shaky hand over his face. “You have too much faith in me.”
“You’ve given me no reason not to have faith in you.” You unwind yourself more from the big blanket. The space heater has worked, filling the room with smoky warmth. “Are you scared?” you ask.
He cocks his head to the side as if he’s considering it and, with some surprise, says, “Yeah, I think…I am.”
“What are you scared of?” you ask, not sure if he’ll tell you.
He drums his fingers on his knee, looks around the little room as if stalling for time. “Disappearing,” he says at last.
Oh, how you want to run to him. Kiss the lines of worry off his face and hold him till he melts into you.
“I’m not going to let you go anywhere,” you tell him firmly. You’re not sure why, but you feel very confident about this.
“Thank you,” he says. “But…” He’s looking down at his lap now. “I set up my life so I could disappear without a trace whenever I needed to. So if I do…go away…there’d be nothing left of me. It’d be like I was never here.”
That’s it—you can’t take it anymore. You’ve got no more patience—not when he’s got that frightened, empty look on his face.
“Come here,” you say, and you open your arms. His cheeks immediately flush pink, and you’re relieved to see embarrassment take the place of hopelessness on his face.
“O-onto the bed?” he stammers, and you grin—because the capable, strong man who you trust with your life is also this hopelessly innocent, charmingly awkward boy, turning bright red at the mere thought of letting you hold him.
“Only if you want to,” you say in your sweetest voice, and he quietly groans.
“Who could say no to that?” he mutters to himself, and you try to stifle a giggle as he swings his leg over the chair and stumbles the few feet to the bed. You wait for him patiently, arms open—cautiously, avoiding your gaze, he crawls toward you, and as he nuzzles his head hesitantly against your chest you fold him into your arms.
“Better?” you ask him.
“Yes, and…no,” he says. You can feel his heart pounding through both his t-shirt and hoodie, and it seems like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. One rests just above your hip, just barely touching you, like he’s not sure whether or not he’s supposed to.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask him. With one hand, you play with a stray curl that’s fallen over his face; his skin feels hot on your fingertips.
“I don’t wanna say,” he murmurs.
You brush the hair off his forehead and then, because you just want to, you press a single, soft kiss to his hairline. He shudders.
“Tell me,” you say. Saeyoung has been still as a statue this whole time; now, his hand shifts, putting just the tiniest bit of pressure on your hip. He’s still barely touching you but suddenly you know what he’s thinking, and it’s like an electric current runs through your body and sets your blood on fire. The gremlin chants its encouragement from deep within your mind.
“If…” he says cautiously, and you feel his lips through your shirt as he speaks softly into your chest. Your heart misses a beat. “If tonight is our last night, I just…want to do one thing.”
“It’s not our last night,” you tell him, and your voice sounds too loud, and somehow your focus is narrowing, narrowing so all you can feel is his hand against your hip. You continue working your fingers through his hair, a little more roughly now; he squirms against you and grips your hip harder, harder.
“I hope not,” he whispers. “But if—just in case—can I…be a bit selfish to you?”
You’ve got goosebumps.
“You can do anything you want to me,” you say, and as soon as the words are out of your mouth you feel you’ve gone too far. The gremlin is roaring.
His head shoots up and suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the intensity of his eyes, his face mere inches from yours.
“Wh-what?” he stammers. His face is flushed and his pupils are huge; he’s looking at you like he’s never seen anything quite like you before. And maybe his shyness emboldens you, or maybe you’re drunk on the burning feeling of his fingers on your skin, but you take a deep breath and plunge ahead.
“You can do anything you want,” you repeat slowly, looking down into his beautiful, molten eyes. “To me.”
He audibly gulps. There’s a hard, desperate look on his face. You’ve caught glimpses of this expression before, when he’s kissed you, hands at your back, breathing hard against your lips—but he’s always pulled away, cut things off before they went too far.
Now, he’s not pulling away.
“I want to kiss you,” he breathes.
“So kiss me.”
And he does, slowly closing the distance between you, brushing his lips against yours with so much tenderness and care. He’s holding back, you can tell—wound so tight he’s barely moving, as if he’s terrified of whatever lives underneath his carefully curated exterior.
You part your lips and he trembles and—keep going, hisses the gremlin—you deepen the kiss, sweep the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip.
“Mmmm,” you hum, relishing the sweet-salty taste of him, and you weave one hand into the base of his messy curls.
This breaks him. He swivels abruptly, crashing his hips into yours, kissing you harder now—clumsy, rough, electric, wonderful. Delighted by his sudden ferocity, you mold into him, raking your hands down the back of his neck.
He pulls back a fraction of an inch, panting, a wild look on his face.
“I…s-sorry…” he pants. “I c-can’t…”
“Tell me what else you want,” you say. You run a hand up his chest and feel his muscles tensing, his body vibrating.
“I—I want to…” His eyes roam your body and he’s never looked at you quite like this before and—oh god, you think, you didn’t know you could want somebody this much.“I want to…touch you,” he says, his voice low.
The gremlin cheers.
“Touch me where?” you whisper. You roll your hips under his and he moans, grasping desperately at your shoulders with bruising fingers.
“N-not fair,” he hisses. Then he’s kissing you again, more confidently this time, lips parted and hands skimming down your arms, across your torso. Your shirt has ridden up and his calloused fingertips graze your bare skin, making you dizzy, so you wrap your legs around his waist, pull him against you—he groans, kissing you ferociously, breathlessly. Every point of contact between you burns icy-hot.
You break the kiss and gasp for air. Saeyoung looks totally undone, his eyes unfocused, pupils blown huge as he hovers over you. More, screams your mind gremlin, and you silently agree. Your fingers rove over his chest, under his unzipped hoodie.
“Can I take this off?” you murmur. He nods, looking dazed and a little helpless, and you slip it easily off his shoulders, run your hands down his arms. He’s got goosebumps, too. “Is this okay?” you ask him, fingers dancing over his torso now, under his t-shirt.
“Yeah,” he pants, following your questing hands with his eyes. “Um, can I…?”
“Please,” you say. You lean back a little and he cautiously slips a hand under your shirt. His fingers tickle—you giggle—his face breaks into a smile.
“You’re so soft,” he whispers, exploring the sensitive skin of your belly with one tentative hand. You moan softly, encouraging him, and his hand slides over your ribcage—pausing when he hits the lacy bottom edge of your bra. He looks down, his cheeks reddening again. “I don’t…know what to do with this,” he mutters. It’s your turn to grin. The genius secret agent slash hacker, taken down by a bra.
“Here,” you say. You pull yourself into a sitting position and he rocks back on his heels; you grab your shirt with both hands and easily lift it off, toss it aside.
Saeyoung looks positively enraptured.
“Y-you are…” he stammers. His awe is adorable and charming but the gremlin yells touch me more, dammit, so you take his hand and guide it to your skin, stroking down from your throat all the way to your belly button.
“Now what are you thinking?” you ask him. You lean back and let him explore you with both hands—he is meticulous, running his fingertips over every inch of exposed skin.
“I’m thinking…” He’s red again. “To be honest, I kind of never thought I’d be in this position.”
You giggle. “S-sorry!” you say. “I just…looking at a girl in a bra?”
He chuckles awkwardly, his hands at your waist, his eyes lowered. “Yeah,” he says. “Exactly.”
“Oh, then boy do I have a surprise for you.” Before he can respond, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him again. He kisses you back hard, grasping at your sides as if holding on for dear life. You trust his grip and slip your hands behind you, unhooking your bra.
Saeyoung realizes what’s happening just a beat after it happens, and he breaks the kiss, pulling away as if he can’t help himself—eyes unabashedly roaming over your body. You slip the straps down your arms and toss the bra aside. For a moment, it seems as though you’ve rendered him speechless.
Then: “Wow,” he says softly.
You grin, propping yourself up with both hands and arching your back, taunting him a little. “That’s all you have to say?”
He chokes on air, lifts his hands to his hot, flushed cheeks. “You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters.
His worshipful attention emboldens you. “Your turn,” you tell him, sliding your fingers up and under his t-shirt again. He lifts his arms—obediently, as if in a trance—and you pull the shirt over his head. It gets caught for a moment on his glasses and he absently tosses them aside.
“Careful—” you start, but he cuts you off.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says gruffly.
The shirt is off—at last—and you explore his torso with eager fingers. His skin is warm and malleable under your touch; you can feel where there were once defined abs, trademark of years of rigorous training. Now, there’s a layer of softer flesh over those muscles, evidence of his more recent lifestyle.
He winces a little as your fingers graze his belly.
“Not much to look at,” he mutters. “Especially compared to you.”
You shake your head vehemently, tracing the contours of his chest with your hands. “You are so beautiful,” you tell him in a reverent voice. And he is—the muscles in his arms ripple delightfully under his skin as he adjusts his position, sits cross-legged in front of you. His body is perfect, you think—firm and yet soft, sculpted and yet supple.
He looks sideways and down, made embarrassed by your scrutiny. You run your fingertips over a long scar you’ve never seen before, cutting diagonally across his chest and onto his shoulder.
“What do you want now?” you ask him, leaning forward to brush his neck with your lips. He’s breathing heavily and he’s got that look on his face again—like he’s just barely keeping it together.
“I want…you,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut, and you’re not sure if there’s more to the sentence than that—but you can’t stand it anymore, so you climb into his lap, wrapping both legs around his waist. “Oh my god,” he hisses as you adjust in his lap; you press your lips to his neck again and graze the gentle skin with your teeth. His hips shudder underneath you and the friction makes your head swim.
“C-can I…” he whispers throatily, “do that too?”
You giggle, because even with you half-naked and straddling him he’s still got that adorable naïveté and you just want to smother him with affection.
“Do what?” you murmur in his ear, and then you catch his earlobe between your teeth. He groans, low and longing.
“I-I want—” he begins, but then you grind your hips against him and his words crumble into another desperate moan. He grips your hips with both hands, tries again. “I want to…leave evidence,” he rasps, and he’s holding you so tight you’re sure there will be fingerprints on your hips and thighs in the morning. Good, whispers the gremlin. “I want to leave evidence on you that I existed,” he says.
Your breath hitches and you don’t miss the unspoken “in case I disappear tomorrow” and you lean back in his lap, baring your throat for him.
“Do it,” you say.
He kisses your lips and then, so slowly, flutters kisses across your cheek, your jaw. He parts his lips and you can feel his teeth on your skin.
“Tell me how,” he whispers.
“Lower,” you say, and you feel his lips drift down your neck. “Open,” you tell him, and his lips part. You stay very still, legs wrapped tight around his waist. “Suck,” you say, and he does, tugging your skin into his mouth. You feel the sharp pressure on your skin and you feel a swooping in your stomach, a neediness at your core. “One…” you count, and he sucks harder, his teeth against your flushed skin. “Two…three. Now.” He pulls back, panting a little, surveying his work with curious eyes.
“It’s red,” he says.
“Good,” you tell him. “Again.”
Without hesitation, he brings his mouth to your neck again, following the muscle that wraps around the front of your throat. He takes your skin between his teeth with more confidence this time and sparks fly behind your closed eyelids.
He meticulously progresses down one side of your neck and up the other, leaving a trail of tender, bruised skin in his wake. It doesn’t hurt much, but the gentle pain is enough to stir up something strong and mysterious inside of you. The gremlin in your mind swims in a sea of pleasure.
Saeyoung bites you just under your left ear and you can’t keep still anymore, your hips rocking against his, seeking new sensations.
“Saeyoung,” you hiss, and he licks your neck—you know he can feel the way your nails scrabble at his back—your longing has made him bolder. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Am I?” He nibbles your jaw and grins against your skin as you moan. “Should I drive you crazier?”
You are going to lose it, you think. You are going to topple off the cliff of sensations that are barraging your mind and you are going to fall apart entirely.
"You don’t wanna see what will happen if you do,” you mutter.
“I do, though,” he teases, and then he bites your earlobe—hard—and for a moment you can’t see straight.
You asked for it, you think, and then—before he can react—you slither out of his grip and dart off the bed. Too late, he reaches for you, but you’ve already found your footing, sliding easily to your knees. You grip his waist with both hands and pull him toward you and he follows, automatically, unthinking. It’s only then that he looks down and sees the position you’re in.
His eyes widen and his face flushes a shade darker than his hair. “You’re…that’s…uhhhh,” he manages. You loop two fingers through the waistband of his jeans and tug him closer to the edge of the bed and he goes with you, letting his legs dangle off the side. He opens his mouth as if to say something else. Swallows. Closes it again.
You run one hand over and around his thigh and then, achingly slow, over the obvious bulge in his pants. He makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a squeak.
“Will you let me do this?” you ask, fingers drifting up to the button of his jeans. He tries to speak but fails again. Instead, he nods frantically, and you undo the button, pull down the zipper. His erection springs free, now constrained only by the more forgiving fabric of his boxers. “Help me with these, babe,” you say, tugging at his pants, and he complies eagerly, pulling his jeans off his hips with shaky hands. You guide them down his legs and then you palm him again, through his underwear, thrilled by the way his cock jumps in anticipation at your touch.
“I wanna taste you,” you whisper, and he mutters a string of incoherent syllables, his hips shaking uncontrollably under your ministrations. You slip his boxers up and over his erection, down his thighs, and bend slowly forward, exhaling onto him. His cock jumps again as if seeking out your lips of its own accord. So you bend over further, bring your lips to his tip, dart out your tongue and lick all the way around.
He groans low in his throat and then his hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling your head back.
“No?” you ask, and he whimpers as if stopping you is taking all his strength.
“I…want you to, god I want you to…b-but…” His voice sounds weak and his eyes are shut, his head still tilted back. “If you do that, I won’t…uhhhhh, I won’t be able to…l-last. Very long. At all.” He finally opens his eyes and gazes down at you with such neediness it makes you tremble.
“You don’t have to, baby,” you purr, and he shuts his eyes again with a moan. “Trust me, you’ll…come back around, if that’s what you want.”
He mumbles something and your lips quirk upward as you feel him gathering your hair behind your neck with his hands.
“Then…please,” he hisses, and the gremlin jumps for joy. You round your lips, carefully taking his tip between them; you wrap one hand around his base and slowly, slowly pull him into your mouth.
He utters a totally indistinguishable string of sounds and you suction your lips around him and arch your back, taking him deeper and then slipping away, licking all the way up his length. You grip his base with your other hand and slide your lips over him, in and out, mouth and hand working in tandem. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t last long, you think—his hips have started to shake in a telltale way and so, back arching, you suction your lips around him tighter, rocking forward on your knees. You cup his balls with one hand and breathe in, pulling him further into your mouth—and he comes, hard and fast, wiggling beneath you as he relinquishes control. You open your throat, swallowing everything.
He gasps for air and, gradually, the erratic movements of his hips slow. You pull away from him then, licking the last of the saltiness from his tip, and he lets out a low, hollow moan.
The heat between your legs is almost unbearable now—there was something about making him dissolve in pleasure that completely overwhelmed you and now you feel dizzy.
You pull yourself back onto the bed, crawling to his side and stroking his cheek. His eyes flutter open and he looks ravished, you think, his gaze totally unfocused and his hair beautifully disheveled.
“I…that…” he pants. You kiss his collarbone. “Th-that was…”
“Better than when you do it yourself, huh?” You giggle against his skin and internally beg your gremlin for patience, trying to ignore the steadily growing need at your core.
“I…literally cannot put into words how much better,” he says. “You…”
“Give great head? Are impossibly sexy and cool? Deserve a blessing from God Seven?” You can’t help but scoot closer as you tease him, grinding your hips—still in your pants, dammit—against his side.
“God Seven isn’t worthy,” he says. His eyes rove over your body, and—yes—land on your still-clothed lower half. “God Seven has found a new purpose in life.”
“And that is?” you purr. You shamelessly rub your hips against his side again. You keep your voice level; internally, you’re at the eye of a storm.
He props himself up on his elbows. Maybe he can tell that now you’re the one who’s falling apart; maybe he’s just finally starting to relax (he certainly should feel relaxed, after that, you think)—but you sense that he’s taking control.
“Well.” His tone is commanding, almost intellectual. “The first step is to get you out of these pants.”
“Yes!” you cry, and he chuckles as you enthusiastically undo the button, already pulling them down your thighs. “Finally!”
He waits for you, sprawled sideways across the bed, looking for all the world as if he does this everyday. You wriggle out of your pants and throw yourself onto your back beside him.
There’s a hungry look on his face as he leans forward and runs one large, calloused hand up your thigh, parting your legs. Desperate for him, you lean back into the mattress, breath already coming hard and fast. “You’re so wet…” he says in awe as he reaches your panties and hesitates, his hand tantalizingly close.
“Of course I am,” you tell him. “It’s because I need you to touch me, Saeyoung.”
His eyes go wide.
“Teach me,” he whispers.
You rip your underwear off with one hand and he helps you, pulling it down your legs and over your feet with gentle hands. You catch his hand in your own and guide him up, between your thighs—separating out his long, flexible fingers, bringing the pad of his index finger to your swollen, needy clit.
“Like this,” you murmur, and you flick your own finger over yourself, hot and trembling, unable to repress a moan at finally getting some satisfaction. He watches you with thoughtful eyes and you can practically see the gears turning in that genius brain of his as he memorizes your movements.
Then he copies you, moving his finger softly against your clit—and it’s different when he does it, of course, his fingers nimbler, his skin rougher. He mimics your motions with absolute precision and you let your hand fall away, the mixture of pleasure and desperation and relief threatening to drown you.
He takes note of every response from you: the way you moan as he moves faster, the way your thighs clench around his hand as he experimentally makes a little circle with his fingertip.
“You are…amazing,” he says, and he’s gazing down at you in wonder, and—oh, he’s got a new toy to play with, you think groggily, your head swimming—he’s found another thing he can manipulate with his fingers, and that’s his speciality.
“Thank god for computers,” you gasp, not even sure what you’re saying, the room swimming around you as you forget to breathe.
“Thank god for…computers?” he asks, eyebrows knitted in confusion—but even as he speaks, his movements don’t slow, his finger flitting against you with the same precision and gentleness you’ve seen him apply to his keyboards, or the little cat robot.
You somehow manage to laugh through the blinding heat behind your eyes. “Because…” you gasp. “B-because you’re good at…computers…so you know how to…”
At that moment, he curls a finger inside of you, his eyes growing huge as he realizes he has another weapon at his disposal. You lose track of your words entirely, taken by surprise, stammering out his name as his index fingers continues its endless stimulation of your clit and his middle finger slides deeper inside you.
Your toes curl. He bends over you and his teeth graze your neck where it’s already tender from his earlier attentions and the heat is blinding, blinding you, and you swear your body actually levitates, the cold, scratchy mattress disappearing entirely as the pleasure swells within you. You come violently, shaking, anchored to reality only by his fingers at your core.
You hear yourself gasping his name as if from outside yourself, and he rides it out with you, pushing you deeper and farther into the bright, hot recesses of your mind.
And slowly, the feeling fades: the mattress is firm and steady beneath you and you grasp clumsily for him, stilling his fingers with your own.
“Fuck,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “Fuck, Saeyoung.”
You try to focus on his face. He’s hovering over you and he looks adoring and thrilled and—proud.
“Am I amazing at that, or what?!” he sings, and you burst out laughing.
“You’re a genius, babe,” you tell him. You still feel a little woozy.
“I know I’m a genius,” he crows. “But who knew I was a sex genius?” He’s all energy now, bouncing on his heels, rocking the bed a little. You push yourself into a sitting position, giggling.
“God Seven, God Seven!” he’s chanting—so you do the only reasonable thing and tackle him, knocking him flat on his back, snaking your arms around his neck.
“There’s still something I wanna try with you, genius God Seven,” you purr into his ear, and his demeanor shifts almost immediately, a little shiver running through his body.
“Yeah?” he murmurs—and all his bravado is gone, and he gazes at you hungrily. You maneuver yourself so your hips are hovering just over his, and you can feel that he’s hardening again, his tip grazing your belly.
“Choi Saeyoung, for the love of god, please fuck me,” you say. He exhales sharply, grasping at your sides with both hands. “I’ve only been imagining it since the day I met you.”
“You have?” His voice is low and throaty and you grind your hips against him, pinning his cock between you. He’s totally hard now, and shivering, that dizzy look returning to his face—like he doesn’t quite know where is or how he got here.
“You have no idea,” he mutters. “But…hang on…I have—” He pushes you off him reluctantly, and you sit back on the bed.
He has…?
It dawns on you, and you watch in wonder as he slides from the bed, practically runs to his bag which he’s left beside the desk. You’re a little ashamed to admit that you hadn’t even thought of it.
He rummages around in the bag and you watch—he has, you think, an excellent butt. Triumphantly, he pulls a little roll of condoms from his bag; you smirk.
“Why do you have those?” you ask, trying to keep the laugher from your voice.
“Don’t…read anything into it, alright?” His face is flushed again as he returns to you, crawls back onto the bed. “I just…you know, need to be prepared. For things. As an…agent.”
“As an agent?” You lean back against the wall, legs long in front of you. You can see little finger-shaped marks already forming on your thighs and the sight alone makes your head spin.
“Yeah, it’s…y’know…safety?” he mumbles, coming to sit beside you. He rips off one of the little packets, tosses the rest aside. His face is still flushed and the dim light from the lamp casts shadows over his prominent collar bones and you just want to bite them.
“Saeyoung, how long have you had the condoms?” you ask.
“Not…long."
“So not like, years, right? Cause they expire, you know.”
He growls playfully and nips at your shoulder; you squeal. “Not years, silly. Like…days.”
Ah-ha. You’re a little relieved to know you’re not the only one who’s been obsessing over getting him naked for the last few days.
“So,” you say, voice low.
“So,” he says.
You turn and kiss the base of his neck and he hisses in pleasure. You trail kisses down his chest, over his belly, his hip. Up the length of his cock, holding it gently with one hand.
“G-go easy on me,” he groans, and you laugh. You reach for the packet and he hands it to you; you tear it open and ease the sticky plastic over his tip. You roll the condom onto him slowly, caressing him with both hands, bending to pepper little kisses around his base.
“Ready, baby?” you whisper, looking up at him. He meets your eyes with his own, dark and dizzy and dazed.
“I-I just wanna…” he mumbles. “Just wanna remind you that I have no idea what I’m doing…so…”
You put both hands on his chest and straddle him.
“What happened to God Seven, sex genius?”
“He’s…still here, but I…ahh.” He moans as you position yourself over him, using a hand to guide him toward you entrance.
“I love you,” you tell him. And before he can answer, you slide onto him, slowly, gasping at the relief of finally feeling him inside you.
His hips stutter frantically against yours and you still him with a hand on his chest. His eyes are shut and his jaw is fixed, like he’s fighting desperately for control.
You wait for him to take a breath—and when he does, slowly, shakily, you start to move. You lift your hips and he moves with you, lower them and he follows you. You feel a sharp clenching inside you, a delightful explosion of sensations, as you fall into a rhythm together.
You moan and he reaches for you, grasping at your sides, your arms. He’s growing more confident now, rocking into you, and you clench around him, pulling him deeper.
His eyes fly open and you see something snap in him—do it, you think—and he does, using both hands to flip you onto your back, pinning you beneath him. His eyes scorch you as he slips back inside you, thrusting into you a little harder; you meet him halfway, lifting your hips, deepening the angle. He’s panting and you can tell he’s still trying to hold himself back and you want to tell him to let go, it’s okay, but there’s fog swimming in your brain and then a huge wave of feelings crashes over you, breaking around you before you know what’s happening. You come quickly and unexpectedly this time, rays of pleasure piercing your body as you lose control of the rhythm and fall to pieces beneath him.
And through the daze of pleasure you see his face shift as he gives in, lets go, thrusts into you faster and harder and with unbidden need—and so you throw your legs up around his waist and pull him into you. His eyes widen and then he comes, too, chasing you, rocking into you frantically, breathing hard through parted lips.
You come down together, trembling and panting, his beautiful faces inches from yours—and then he kisses you hard. You clench around him again and he whimpers.
“You just did that…on purpose,” he gasps.
“I did.”
He laughs a brand new laugh and this one, you think, is your favorite. He slides out of you and sits back, pulling off the condom with a hiss as his fingers brush the sensitive flesh.
“I don’t wanna be dramatic,” he says as he catches his breath. “But I think I just died and then was born again. So.” He giggles and you collapse against him, pressing a hot cheek to his chest. He wraps his arms around you.
“Do you think,” you murmur, “other agents have also done it in this bed?”
He squeezes you tight, still laughing. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
“How could you not?”
He hums thoughtfully, combing his fingers through your knotted hair. “I kind of doubt it,” he says. “Secret agents have way less sex than people think we do.”
“You don’t,” you say.
“One time,” he mutters, nuzzling his face into your hair. “I’ve now had sex one time.”
You twist to look up at him: there are curls falling messily over his forehead and his face is flushed and pink and so kissable. You crane your neck and kiss the underside of his jaw.
“I have this strong feeling that you’re gonna end up having a lot more sex,” you tell him. “Probably kind of soon.”
He cackles and dips his head and covers your face with kisses; you squeal as he flips you over onto your stomach, tossing your hair to the side and nibbling the back of your neck.
“…didn’t leave…enough evidence?” you pant, giggling, squirming.
“Oh, I’m not worried about that anymore,” he says, pinning you beneath him and licking the back of your ear.
“You’re not?”
“Nope!” he sings. “I am one hundred percent confident that I won’t be going anywhere any time soon.” His energy shifts as he kisses across your shoulder, down your back. His fingers drift to your sides, caressing you slowly, making you tremble. “I am never,” he whispers into your skin, “going anywhere without you.”
“Promise?” you pant, squirming as his kisses drift lower, lower.
“I promise,” he whispers, his lips burning your lower back, “that I won’t ever leave your side.”
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
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part ii: filled with sunshine
genre: college au, neighbor au; fluff, humor, slow burn pairing: 3racha x femme reader in poly relationship part word count: 11k part warnings: mature content (18+, specific warnings under the cut), suggestive, explicit language, alcohol consumption request: no a/n: this in no way reflects the actions of stray kids’ bang chan, seo changbin, or han jisung. it is a work of fiction. !! important !!: the author requests that readers be mindful that there is 18+ content in this piece and read only if they are of age. thank you. while the mature content is poetically described, it still exists. and, remember to always get continued and enthusiastic consent as you practice safe sexual habits.
~ read part 1 first! ~
✧ series masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧
↠↞
mature content warnings: oral (giving, receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock-warming. again, please read only if you are of age.
↠↞
You woke around 10 am on Saturday morning and just lay there in bed, enjoying the memories of the night before. Everything had been hot and almost desperate, but somehow still gentle. And, there was something about not even making it to your bed because you wanted each other too much . . .. Your pulse quickened and you had to squeeze your legs together as you remembered the feeling of his hands exploring every inch of your body, the feeling of his mouth caressing you, that wonderful sense of almost flying. When you looked down at yourself under the sheets, you weren’t surprised to find bruises across your chest and stomach, and were quite glad that it was winter.
Before you’d done anything besides kiss, Jisung had been forthright in saying that he was disease-free and was very careful with who he was intimate with. (You were the one to bring out a box of condoms, since you never knew when you’d need to provide one). You were delighted that he was so aware and honest, clearly taking his actions seriously and taking responsibility for his part in any relationship. Just knowing that had made you relax and, almost, abandon yourself to each and every sensation. You’d made sure to tell him that you were polyamorous, too, making it clear that you were also safe in your habits. Once you’d gotten the talking out of the way, it hadn’t taken long for you to find that your new couch was, surprisingly, quite comfortable to be pressed into.
As he’d pulled his pants back on, Jisung had insisted that he go back to his apartment, saying he had to be up early to go over some notes on a song before meeting with Chan and Changbin at the studio. You also suspected that, despite the two of you just having sex on your couch, he was a bit shy now. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him—if it had all been planned, then maybe he would’ve stayed, but this was all too new, too unexpected.
After stretching to relieve the stiffness in your lower back, you went to shower and get dressed. When you sat down to eat, you brought your phone and that slip of paper with Jisung’s phone number on it so you could message him. It was only right that you did.
y/n: hey babe, last night was really fun
No, that wouldn’t work. I can’t call him “babe” after hooking up only once.
y/n: hi jisung! it’s y/n. just wanted to say than
No, that really wouldn’t work. Thanking him like that would just trivialize the whole experience.
y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n. last night was absolutely lovely and, let me say, you were fantastic! i’d love to
Nope, now I’m making him sound like a horse that had won a race or something. Damn.
y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n~ last night was really great and i’d love to see you again. maybe we could get together for dinner one night or to watch a movie? i want to get to know you better!
There. That was good. Okay . . . send!
You sighed, then promptly bolted out of your seat and hid your phone under a cushion on the couch. Not two minutes later, you heard the faint buzz signaling that you’d received a text message.
jisung: hey y/n! ah, i see you used that piece of paper after all ;) i had a lovely time, too! what’s your favorite movie, then? i can try getting it from the library on my way home. jisung: sorry, let me start that bit over again. i’m busy tonight, but are you free next saturday? i’d love to watch a movie with you.
You giggled at Jisung’s evident enthusiasm, and quickly responded.
y/n: yes, i’m free that night :) maybe surprise me with the movie? jisung: a surprise it is, then! your place or mine? y/n: yours? i’ve never seen your apartment and you’ve seen mine a lot… jisung: ….point taken. i’ll have to clean up a little, but i think you’ll like it :) y/n: what time should i come through the connecting door?
You sighed a little as you sent the text. It was more than a little weird that this was how you were going to see Jisung, especially when front doors existed. But, you figured it was only right that you go through that way a few times, since he’d been going back to his apartment like that for months.
jisung: is 7:30 ok? y/n: sure! i’ll see you then… babe ;) jisung: *blushes*
A small noise that sounded suspiciously like an excited “Eeep!” came from Jisung’s apartment, and you grinned, giggling again. Jisung was, to put it mildly, absolutely adorable. Hot, yes—far too hot for you to properly function around, if you were totally honest—but also sweet and lovely. He was bright as the sun, seeming to practically radiate joyful light. And if last night was anything to go by, Jisung was quickly going to become a fixture in your life.
All that week, you couldn’t wait to see Jisung again and in a proper, arranged setting rather than as he was climbing through your window. You’d texted, flirting and just telling each other about yourselves. You learned that he loved being outside, just sitting in the sun or doing things with Chan and Changbin. He learned from you that you wanted to travel and study languages that were in danger of dying out. You bonded over a shared love of curling up with a good book or music or show, some tea, and having the world leave you alone. So, the idea of just watching a movie with him, spending time together in a simple but specific environment, sounded perfect to you.
Although, you did hook up twice more when neither of you could stand not getting your hands on each other again. Jisung was a kind and thorough lover, his personality vibrant and unaffected, and you enjoyed coming together simply for the sake of feeling amazing; you’d even taken to thinking of him as sunshine. You quickly found that you were sleeping better, and thought it might be nice if this sort of thing continued.
On Saturday evening, you found yourself impatiently waiting for 7:30 pm instead of doing small chores and reading some of the chapters you’d been assigned for your Poetry of Emancipation and Civil Rights course. It was maddening, especially when you heard Jisung get home and all you could think about was his smile. At 7:29 pm, you made your way into your bathroom and opened the little door in the wall. Jisung’s recent passage through the space within had cleared any cobwebs, but still there wasn’t much light. Whoever had split the old house into apartments had added this through-space for, presumably, plumbers to access the fixtures more easily, or maybe it was simply an anomaly in the construction. Either way, you now had a fascinating, new way to visit your neigh- your boyf- to visit Jisung.
Damn it, I can’t believe I’m doing this, you laughed at yourself and knelt to make your way into Jisung’s apartment. Before you could start, though, the door at the other end of the crawlspace opened and Jisung appeared.
“Hold on!” he said, and opened the door wider so that as much light as possible would shine through. Gratefully, you quickly made your way toward him—it really wasn’t a long space, only five steps crawling, but it was such an odd thing to do that you couldn’t help feel that it was much longer. When your head was out of the little passageway, you looked up to see a very strange look on Jisung’s face. It was the kind of expression one makes when something filthy is rocketing through one’s mind and it’s impolite to share those thoughts. Belatedly, you realized the position you were in and ducked your head.
When you’d fully emerged from the crawlspace, Jisung stood back and you clambered to your feet, brushing off your knees.
“Hey, babe,” Jisung said, winking.
“Hey!” You stood on tiptoe to brush your lips against his. “So, this is your bathroom.” Looking around, you noticed just how clean the room was—it wasn’t at all strange to appear there, with no odd smells, garish decor or anything out of place.
“Yep, this is my bathroom. Come see everything else—it’s much more interesting!” Jisung said, and hesitantly took your hand to lead you out into the rest of his apartment. Unsurprisingly, it had the same layout as yours, only mirrored.
When you got to the living room, you stared. Jisung had an electric keyboard, a guitar, a small desk, and a computer set up in one corner, clearly his space for practicing and composing. He’d gone for comfort more than anything else, with a sofa that had clearly been well-loved and a few beanbag-like nests. The light curtains would clearly let in plenty of sunlight during the day, and you noticed, with interest, the pile of blankets on one end of the sofa. The coffee table had gaming consoles and books scattered across its top, and a tall bookcase full of novels and music books, as well as sheet music, stood against the wall by the instruments.
The space was so different from your own, but it was the homiest living room you’d ever been in. You resisted the urge to flop down onto the sofa until you remembered that Jisung had been coming through your window . . . so you casually taking over his sofa would be a non-issue. He grinned when you sighed contentedly at the plushness of the cushions.
“You like it?” Jisung asked.
“Ji, I love it! The whole room’s so cozy and warm,” you said appreciatively, taking in every detail. Jisung just let you enjoy the room’s atmosphere, since he’d worked quite hard to make it so inviting and wanted you to appreciate it.
“Want some tea? I have, um, a lot,” Jisung grinned, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
You nearly leapt off the couch and followed Jisung into the other room. “Oh my god, yes please!”
Jisung’s kitchen looked almost exactly the same as yours, except he didn’t have galaxy-themed tea towels. And, it was obvious to you that Jisung had his friends over more often than not, since two stools were stacked in the corner.
“Um,” Jisung prompted, “what kind would you like?” He pointed to a shelf with what had to be twenty boxes of different kinds of tea on it—to you, it looked like heaven. Seeing your awestruck look, Jisung added, “Take your time. I’ll just put the kettle on.”
After putting the water on to boil, Jisung came to stand behind you and, taking a deep breath as if to plunge into ice water, rested his chin on your shoulder. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his as if you’d been doing this together for years, rather than days. It was so easy to be with Jisung—everything just felt right. Thinking it was now or never, Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and you leaned into him, still deciding what kind of tea you’d like.
“Guess what . . .” Jisung said.
“Hmmm?” you said distractedly.
“You’re beautiful,” Jisung murmured, breathing shallowly because he still couldn’t believe you were just casually in his arms. How had he gotten this lucky?
“And you’re handsome,” you replied.
Jisung was most certainly smiling as he said, “Want to split a pot of jasmine?” You nodded and jumped as the kettle’s shrilling pierced your ears—you hadn’t realized you were standing there with Jisung, just looking at tea, for that long. Jisung kissed your cheek, making you squeal internally, and went to make the tea.
Five minutes later, the two of you were back in the living room and Jisung was setting up the movie. You sat with your feet up under you, holding your tea to your chest. The warmth felt lovely. Once Jisung had gotten his DVD player set up and the beginning credits of the movie had started, he came to sit next to you. As he leaned back with his tea in one hand, he yawned and theatrically put his other arm around your shoulders.
You giggled. “Jisung, you don’t need to feel nervous about us cuddling or anything,” you reassured him. “It’s not like I haven’t touched you. We’ve had sex, for god’s sake. Multiple times.”
“I just- I wanted to go slowly since simple, casual intimacy is different. Or, at least that’s how I think of it. Just because we had sex doesn’t mean we’re going to be absolutely compatible right off the bat.” Jisung’s touch on your shoulder was light, as if he didn’t want to startle you.
“Ji,” you said, snuggling into his side, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. I feel more comfortable around you than some of the people I’ve known for three years.”
Jisung made a noise of disbelief. “What? Really?”
“Yeah,” you hummed, and threw a leg over Jisung’s thigh. His breath hitched a little before he pulled you closer to himself, the two of you settling into a comfortable configuration of limbs. The movie was one you’d only heard of in passing, and hadn’t expected to like—but Jisung’s explanation of why he liked it made you actually enjoy it.
Two-thirds of the way through the film, Jisung’s hand gently caressing your shoulder became too much of a distraction and all you wanted to do was kiss him again. You’d long ago finished your tea, and now contented yourself with gazing at him, taking in the smooth line of his jaw, the curve of his ear, the depression where his collarbone met the slope of his shoulder.
“I can feel you staring, Y/N,” Jisung said after a while, jolting you out of your daze. He paused the movie.
“Well, you’re kinda hot,” you countered.
“Yeah? How hot?” Jisung smirked, angling himself toward you.
“Very, very hot,” you whispered, craning your neck for a kiss. Jisung obliged, smiling.
Unlike your kisses the night before, this was slow and calm, like honey settling on ripe peaches. You slid forward to sit more squarely in Jisung’s lap as he tangled his fingers in your hair, the slight pull on your head feeling delicious. Each brush of his lips was soft and warm, and both of you took your time as you fell into the kisses, learning how gentle yet passionate the other could be. You moved your hands along his shoulders and chest, then up to cup his face, holding him like a priceless piece of art. Jisung hummed against your mouth, and drew you closer. Long minutes passed as you kissed, enjoying the simplicity of the connection, until you felt what seemed like a small fire ignite inside you.
Sensing your mood, as it reflected his own, Jisung said, “We’re not doing this on the couch again, Y/N. I have a bed, you know.”
You laughed—you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected things to go this way—after all, you’d worn some especially pretty lingerie—but the way Jisung had phrased it . . . he was almost pouting.
You pecked Jisung’s nose and said, “Lead on.”
Jisung didn’t bother asking you to get up or shift position—he just hooked an arm behind your knees and held the other at your back, and stood up. It was rather impressive, to say the least. He carried you to the bedroom, both of you giggling at the fact that you were really doing this, until you got to his room. Just like the rest of his apartment, it was cozy; there was no other word for it, especially with the soft faerie lights strung above the bed. You idly wondered if he always had them up or had just put them up in hopes the two of you would make it into his bedroom.
He sat down on the bed with you still in his arms, and resumed kissing you as if he hadn’t just carried you to an entirely different room. After a moment, you swiveled on Jisung’s lap so you were straddling his hips and wrapped your legs around him—his hands immediately went under your shirt, as if he’d been waiting to do just that.
“You really want to feel me up, don’t you,” you said, brows arched but smiling.
“Can you blame me?” Jisung’s voice was husky with desire. You just shook your head and pulled your shirt off, which made Jisung’s eyes widen. The lingerie was clearly doing its job. “Now who’s the hot one?” he asked, and ran his hands up and down your back as he continued kissing along your jaw and cheeks. His fingers finally stopped at the clasp of your bra and you breathed a “Yes.”
After a moment, Jisung leaned his head against your shoulder. “Y/N, um, it’s been a bit since I last did this…” His voice was so small and embarrassed.
“Aw babe, I’ve got it,” you said, stroking his hair. Jisung leaned back on his hands, watching you as you reached around yourself to unhook the clasp. You shrugged out of your bra and let it fall to the floor.
“You are so gorgeous, Y/N, you really are,” Jisung said, his voice low in awe.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks—you’d rarely, if ever, been admired like this, just bare before someone. “I- Um, I’m not sure what to say? Thanks?”
Jisung chuckled, saying, “You deserve every compliment I can give you,” and brought his hands back to your body. You were still as he trailed his fingertips up your stomach to cup the soft curves of your breasts, then brushed his thumbs over their peaks. You let out a shaky breath as Jisung began to kiss down your throat, over your sternum, and over each of the love bites he’d given you earlier in the week. He made certain to carefully add two more. You tangled your hands in his hair and sighed softly as he sucked, nibbled, and massaged, causing a tingling sensation to go straight to your core.
Jisung lifted his head briefly and, trailing a finger along his jaw, you said, “Your turn.” His shirt was off in one fluid movement and, again, you couldn’t believe you were actually with someone that beautiful.
“And you were saying I’m gorgeous? Jisung, oh babe, you should see yourself through my eyes.”
Jisung brushed his hair out of his face, looking intently up at you. “I can see myself in your eyes,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”
You smiled as you gently pushed Jisung back onto the bed, but before you could lay yourself down on top of him, he said, “Let me take off my jeans off first—it’ll be easier, you know?”
You chuckled and decided to do the same—he was right, after all. You sat on the bed next to Jisung as he did some fascinating acrobatics to divest himself of his pants and pull the sheets down at the same time. Laying there in just his underwear, Jisung’s desire was painfully evident and you unknowingly licked your lips; however, this did not go unnoticed by Jisung, who grinned. He scooted back onto the bed so his legs weren't hanging off the side and lay back on his pillows, holding his arms out to you.
“Shall we?” he said with an exaggeratedly coy expression.
You crawled on top of him, feeling him hard beneath you, and leaned down to kiss him deeply, your breasts just grazing his chest. Your own desire roared through you like floodwaters surging along a river toward a dam, and you ground your core against him, seeking the one thing that would break that dam apart. Jisung moaned into your mouth, holding your hips so firmly his hands dug into your muscles. And in moments, you were both breathing hard.
Flashing a grin at Jisung as you broke from your kiss, you slid down his chest. You began at his throat, too, leaving kisses and hickeys all over him, eliciting soft moans from his lips. When you got to the waistband of his underpants, you looked up the hard planes of his stomach and chest to his face. “May I?”
“God, please, Y/N,” Jisung all but begged.
You deftly pulled his last remaining clothes down and off, admiring what was now revealed before you. Tracing the length and girth with your fingers, you placed a kiss right on the tip and Jisung hissed softly at the contact. You efficiently pumped your hand back and forth, feeling as if you were an earth goddess urging a seedling to grow, until he stood tall and proud as an oak. Slowly, you brought your lips to him, swirling your tongue a little, then bobbed your head up and down, occasionally letting your teeth graze his sensitive skin. A slightly salty taste that was still distinctly his own began to fill your mouth, and he twitched a little. And oh, Jisung’s moans—they were loud and needy, just a little breathy, and like music to your ears. He encouraged you, praising and saying how good it felt; at his words, you took a moment to simply run your hand over him, kissing the same path your hand took. Then, returning your mouth to its task, you quickened your pace and your throat soon felt raw. After a moment, you simply sucked the tip, flicking your tongue out, until Jisung’s gasps and cries were louder than ever.
“I’m so close, Y/N . . . Just like th- Aaaah! Fuck!” Jisung’s hips bucked, surprising you, but you continued, drawing as much pleasure from him as you could as you swallowed and swallowed. The sound of him coming undone made the ache between your legs intensify, and as Jisung came down from his high, panting, you crawled back up the bed next to him.
Jisung pulled you to him, and you knew he could taste himself on your mouth as you kissed again. His hands were quickly back on your hips, fiddling with the band of your panties. “I want to taste you,” he said between kisses.
“Taste all you want,” you purred as his hand strayed lower.
He gave you a silly grin and, inexplicably, said, “Thank you.” You giggled.
Jisung wasted no time in flinging your panties nearly to the other side of the room, then tracing whirls over your stomach, going lower and lower. When you thought you might as well just take matters into your own hands, literally, Jisung slid his hand between your legs and you moaned.
“Mmmm, perfect,” Jisung smiled as he kissed just below your ear.
He seemed to want to feel each and every part of you, slowly exploring with first one finger, and then a second. In moments, you were wriggling and arching yourself toward him as his fingers danced. When he found that little bundle of nerves, rubbing it over and over, your hips bucked involuntarily. Fast, then slow, he coaxed you to the edge. Then, nothing.
“Oh no you don’t, Han Jisung,” you said, panting. “You are not stopping now.”
“Who said I was stopping?” Jisung said as he positioned himself between your legs, holding your thighs apart. You could still feel the blood pulsing through your veins and the ache inside was nearly maddening. He kissed all the way up your inner thigh, teasing you, then did the same along the other leg. You thrust your hips into the air, seeking some sort of friction.
Jisung smiled indulgently, then brought his mouth to you. His lips and tongue on your most sensitive parts felt so good you could barely think. Your moans were even louder than his had been, and you were glad that the neighbors typically went out on weekend nights. Jisung sucked that bundle of nerves like it was a hard candy and lapped at you like a kitten, clearly having the time of his life, before adding his fingers again. The combination had you begging for release, and all you could think was that this must be what it was like to be carried along a storm-swollen river to the edge of a waterfall.
“Oh, hhhhh, oh shit. Ji- Jisung, oh my god, hhhhh, oh god, fuck. Right there, oh f- Aaaah!”
Jisung crooked his fingers as he sucked, sending you hurtling out over that waterfall. Gasping and moaning, you shuddered, the coil of tension below your navel releasing. When he finally sat up, Jisung slowly licked each his fingers.
As you caught your breath, relishing the feeling of release, Jisung quickly went to his bedside table and you turned your head to see him sliding a condom on. He glanced at you, realizing he’d just assumed that you were okay with continuing.
“Jisung, just get back on the bed,” you said, forestalling his question, and Jisung did so, kneeling between your legs with an expectant look on his face.
“Well?” you said, looking up at him.
“I was just admiring you,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss you sweetly. Then, he straddled your hips and prepared himself before saying, “Ready?”
“Definitely,” you replied, an almost gleeful look in your eye.
You joined together little by little, Jisung letting you adjust, until he could go no further. You moaned at the feeling of such intimacy, the bright clarity of it—you felt like you were being filled with sunshine. “Ji, move,” you gasped, and he did.
Holding himself above you as you hooked your ankles behind his legs, Jisung began slowly, making you feel every bit of him. Then, the two of you moved as one, faster and harder, his hips finally snapping with as much power as he could muster.
Jisung buried his face in your neck as you urged him on. “Come on, Ji, right there. Oh, yes! Ah, that’s it. That feels so good, just like that.” You ran your hands all over his back, biting down on his shoulder as he finally hit the one spot inside that would surely bring your pleasure crashing down upon you again. Your nerves still singing from just moments before, you suddenly felt that coil inside you release as you clenched and unclenched, screaming Jisung’s name over and over.
“I still- I need—” Jisung gasped against your neck.
“Keep going,” you crooned, and held him to you as he chased his high, seeming to plunge deeper with each movement. A few moments later, Jisung’s hips shook and you felt him pulse as he dashed himself against the rocks at the foot of that waterfall of bliss. He shuddered, too, and lay against you, panting. You kissed his neck, his cheek, and his mouth as you both relaxed into each other’s arms.
After taking care of the condom, Jisung joined you back on the bed and you curled against him, still flushed with exertion. “That was—”
“Amazing,” you finished, turning to kiss him again. Jisung’s arm went around your shoulders and his other hand held your hip. You undulated your body against him gently, more for the slow, mellow comfort from the feel of his skin against yours than anything else.
“We should take a shower,” he said after a few more sweet kisses.
“Mmmm, that sounds perfect,” you agreed. “Can we just lay here for a moment, though?”
After several minutes, you suspected Jisung might fall asleep, so you gently kissed along his chest and said, “What about that shower?”
He chuckled and sat up with a groan. “Yeah, I know. I’ll go start the water.”
Once you’d showered together and lingered under the hot water, you lay side-by-side on Jisung’s bed, just tracing patterns into each other’s skin and occasionally kissing.
“I could get used to this, you know,” he said after you’d lain there for several minutes.
“Yeah? You mean us . . . just casually having sex? Or do you mean, like, dating?” you said, honestly not minding either way.
“I- Both, I guess?” Jisung paused. “But also just spending time with you, and being able to cuddle or do whatever when we need it. Casual comfort and companionship, and yeah, sex—keeping things open, you know?”
You looked up at him, thinking you understood now. “Do you mean having an open relationship?”
Jisung nodded. “Yeah, like we’re pretty much together but see other people but things are just kind of casual!”
You laughed lightly, glad that you were on the same page. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, actually,” you said. “I’m not really fussed about keeping things only between us—you know I’m polyamorous. I just feel like I’ve got a lot of love to give and that, while I am over the moon with happiness with you—”
“You are?” Jisung interrupted, turning his big doe eyes on you.
“Yes, Ji, of course,” you said, and continued. “But yeah, I just— I feel like I want to give as many people the affection and support they need, and to get all different kinds from them, as well as you. Just keeping things casual sounds perfect to me.”
Jisung rolled over onto his back, leaving you to rest your chin on his chest. He mindlessly stroked your hair. “Mmmm,” he sighed contentedly, “you know, I don’t mind if you don’t tell me who else you’re seeing, by the way. Not unless it gets serious and you’d like to actually date them, too. Then, it would be nice to know and meet them.”
“Oh my god, of course!” you exclaimed, your head jerking up sharply. “I wouldn’t hide something like that! I mean, if you’d like to share who we see super casually, I’m fine with that, too.”
“I trust you,” was all Jisung said.
“And I trust you,” you replied, kissing his chest above his heart. Suddenly, you were nearly practically overwhelmed by the tenderness you felt for Jisung, and shimmied your way onto his chest more solidly.
“Come here, angel,” he murmured, and pulled you fully on top of his body. Your bodies touching so completely made you feel like you were laying on a cloud. Smiling softly to yourself, you tucked your head under Jisung’s chin, listening to his heartbeat as his arms went around you. You thought the best sleep you’d had was the other nights that week, but they could never compare to falling asleep with Jisung.
↠↞
Strolling toward you down the long walkway that wound through campus, looking like a cat who’d just been in the cream, came a young man with an all-too-familiar face: Bang Chan. He looked like the cold, December air didn’t bother him at all. You sighed, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, and looked down at what were, in the summer, lovely gardens lining the path. It really was cold as hell and all you wanted to do was get home before dark when it would even colder.
“Y/N?”
Oh, no.
“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I thought it was you!” he called from, in your opinion, too far away. The people around you turned to look and you mentally cringed—you didn’t like drawing attention from large crowds.
“Hi, Chan,” you said, trying to plaster a smile onto your face.
“How’s the most beautiful woman on campus?” Chan said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Doing well? Staying warm?”
“I’m fine, Chan. And you?” You knew how you were talking was stilted and the words almost meaningless.
“A little busy, but great!” Chan responded blithely, falling into step with you. “How’s Jisung holding up? Is he still cooped up in his apartment? I think he said he was composing?”
“Oh, u-huh,” you said a little guiltily. You didn’t want to tell him that Jisung had, in fact, been in your apartment and in varying stages of undress, not composing at all hours. “I haven’t seen him much, actually, so I guess he has been composing. I think I heard him messing around on the guitar the other day.”
“Sometimes he gets like this,” Chan lamented, clearly playing for sympathy from you—sympathy he wouldn’t be getting because you, honestly, didn’t care much. Your time with Jisung was too good not to covet.
“I guess once he’s done whatever he’s working on you’ll see him more?” You wanted this conversation to be over—you were cold, there was a breeze, and it was Chan, of all people.
“I might just go over there and bug him, honestly.” Chan was thoughtful, and you had to stop yourself from vehemently dissuading him from stepping foot anywhere near your apartment. You’d have to mention to Jisung that Chan was probably stopping over and would expect to see some sort of headway on a composition, if that, indeed, was the excuse he’d been telling his friends to explain his occasional absences from their lives recently.
“Yeah, I’m sure he’d be happy to see you, since you’re so close,” you reassured him, smiling uncomfortably. Chan still took no notice, happily looking around at all the other students passing by as you walked.
“He’s such an introvert, I’ve no idea if he’ll want to see me,” Chan laughed and stopped to let a group of freshman girls by, but didn’t resume walking once they’d passed. “But maybe I can come see you instead?” he said with a wink, and hope in his voice.
You began to stammer out a response, not even caring what you said as long as it amounted to “Hell no.” You pulled out your phone to, supposedly, check a message.
“Oh, sorry Chan. I have to go,” you lied. “A friend just texted saying she needs my help with something. I guess I’ll see you around.”
And with that, you made a speedy exit, Chan staring after you a little sadly. Why did his nerves have to get the best of him like that? He ended up coming off as mildly creepy instead of his normal, kind self. He’d have to work on that, since you clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Chan sighed, rubbing his brow, then headed toward the Performing Arts building and the privacy of the studio he shared with Jisung and Changbin. Maybe he’d be able to put what he felt into a song or something.
That night before bed, you messaged Jisung to tell him that Chan would probably be over that week.
y/n: ji, did you tell chan you were composing this week and that’s why you haven’t been with him and changbin? sunshine: ….maybe….why? y/n: well, chan found me today and asked me how your composition(s?) were going since i’m your neighbor. and i had to do some pretty fast talking there, han jisung >:| sunshine: shit…sorry y/n!! :(( sunshine: welp;;; i guess i’ll have to get going on that, then y/n: yaaaay good idea! also, why does chan insist on flirting so outrageously with me every single god damn time i see him? sunshine: oh. he’s been like that for awhile;; it’s a coping mechanism for when he’s nervous and he’s not always trying to actually flirt. although, with you he might be?? sunshine: please don’t hold it against him. he’s a good guy and i’d hate for you to dislike him y/n: oooooh okay okay that makes so much more sense now. i was getting kind of uncomfortable there for a minute. thank you for explaining that, babe. i understand him a lot better now and i promise i’ll try to get to actually know him!! sunshine: you’re not required to be friends with my friends, but thanks y/n: i know, but i still want to make the effort!! sunshine: you’re the best :D y/n: oh! um do you maybe need me to come over to be your ~muse~? sunshine: you already have been <3 y/n: if you don’t stop being adorable, i’m gonna come over there and kiss you sunshine: yeah? you’re gonna do that? hmmm? y/n: don’t test me…. i WILL come over and kiss you sweetly and tuck you into bed sunshine: i read that as “fuck you into bed.” OOOPS y/n: alkfhgakldjfgh y/n: just go compose, ji!!! i’ll come over tomorrow, if chan’s not there sunshine: your wish is my command, angel~ sunshine: make sure to get some sleep y/n: don’t stay up too late tho babe;;;; sunshine: i won’t, don’t worry y/n: okay hhhh goodnight, ji *kiss* sunshine: sweet dreams, angel *kiss*
As you fell asleep, you thought you could hear the faint strains of the guitar and Jisung’s voice floating over from the other apartment. Idly, you wondered if he was recording any of his ideas.
↠↞
On Wednesday afternoon, you got a text from Jisung inviting you to an ugly sweater party that would be hosted by one of his casual friends that weekend. And while you weren’t sure if any of your sweaters counted as ugly, you figured you should still have a fun night out. And because where Jisung was, Chan and Changbin wouldn’t be far behind, you knew they’d be there, too. You suggested that the two of you go together, especially since the house was only a couple blocks away from where you lived. So, at 8:17 pm on Friday, you bundled yourself into your coat and headed out the door.
“Y/N!”
You turned around to see Jisung striding toward you across the snowy lawn.
“Hi,” he said, drawing out the syllable as he gave you an enthusiastic hug and kissed your cheek.
“Jisung,” you said, stepping back, “where exactly is your coat? You do know it’s the middle of December, right?”
“I left it inside.” He grinned when you glared. “Eh, one of us has to be a little bit dumb sometimes.”
This earned him a gentle nudge in the shin from your foot, but you were both smiling as you set off toward the party.
As you approached the house, Jisung kissed your hand. “I, um, haven't told Chan and Changbin that we’ve been seeing each other.” At your surprised look, he shrugged. “I’ll see you later tonight, angel,” he said, then darted up the stairs with a wink thrown over his shoulder. You shook your head—sometimes, Jisung was a little odd.
When you stepped through the front door, it was obvious that the party had already been going for at least an hour. People crowded the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, and some were even on the stairs. Fairly mellow music played in the background, and when you looked toward one end of the living in which a table was set up between two speakers, you saw none other than Chan. You couldn’t say you were surprised.
Squirming between the people lounging against the kitchen’s doorframe, you finally made it in and went to where drinks had been laid out on the counter. You grabbed a fresh cup for yourself, pouring some hard cider out of a fresh can, and then, rejoined the main part of the party. Not exactly wanting to talk to a lot of people you didn’t know, you found a window with a deep enough sill that you could sit in it. For almost a half hour, you watched the partygoers and slowly sipped on your cider.
Occasionally, you’d look over at Chan behind his computer, portable mixing board, and more wires and cables than you knew could exist. Now that you knew he wasn’t actively trying to be unnecessarily flirtatious, you could see yourself getting to know him. After all, he was Jisung’s friend and well known around campus—people were too focused on holding others to high moral standards, despite lowering their own, not to watch someone like Chan like hawks. You would’ve heard if he wasn’t a great person, and you knew Jisung wouldn’t be friends with a jerk.
In the low lighting of the living room, the lines of Chan’s cheekbones stood out as he bowed his head in concentration to find just the right level of bass to thrum through your bones beneath the soft strains of melody. You found yourself completely enthralled; that is, until Jisung eclipsed your view as he flitted from group to group like a hummingbird. And just when you thought you should probably socialize, two women who wore matching, utterly horrible sweaters chose to stand nearby. Since their sweaters were so atrocious, you thought their conversation might be interesting.
“3racha?” one of them asked in response to a question you hadn’t heard.
“Yeah, I really thought they’d be here, but I haven’t seen them,” the second woman whined.
“Maybe they’re busy?” the first one suggested.
“Or, ladies,” a pleasantly husky voice said, coming up behind them, “you could open your eyes and realize that Chan’s behind the table tonight. You’re listening to one of our new songs.” The two 3racha fans gaped at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to talk to the person in the window here.” He slid past them. “Thanks.”
You looked up from your drink into the handsome face of Changbin, who was wearing a black sweater with…
“Pink, sparkly cats? You?” you said, not believing your eyes.
“Hey, I like cats,” Changbin protested. “And who cares if they’re pink and sparkly? They have cute little noses—see?” He moved closer to you, pointing to the cats.
“Yes, very cute little noses,” you laughed and took a sip of your cider. “So, what’s up, Changbin?”
“Eh, not much. I finished my exams early—thank god. You?”
“I’ve been really good, actually,” you said brightly. “You’re lucky—I still have all of mine next week.”
“Good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great,” Changbin beamed at you. “Hey, it’s pretty stuffy in here—want to go out on the porch for some fresh air?”
You nodded and stood to follow him.
A couple heads turned, probably those people who recognized Changbin and thought of him as a local celebrity or something, as you slipped by along the wall leading to the back door. Changbin held the door open for you and you inhaled the cold night air, welcome after the heat inside from so many bodies pressed together.
Changbin sighed gratefully next to you, sitting down on the top step and patting the spot next to him. “Join me?”
You sat, surprised that you could feel the warmth radiating from Changbin even sitting a foot away. Together, you stared out over the lawn where the footprints of those who lived in the house crossed each other to form unintentionally intricate patterns.
“Y/N?” Changbin said hesitantly after a few minutes. “Would you be interested in listening to the demo of a song I’ve been working on?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I know you’re not a music major,” he continued, “but that’s exactly why I’m asking this. I could use some fresh ears on it.”
You were flattered that Changbin had asked you, but . . . “Why me?” you asked. “I’m sure there are plenty of other people you know far better than me. Not to sound rude, but we’ve only met maybe three times.”
“Like I said, that’s exactly it,” Changbin insisted, taking out his phone. “You don’t know my—3racha’s—music. So, you’re the perfect person to give an unbiased and new opinion!”
“Well, when you put it like that . . .” you mused, and scooted just a little closer to Changbin. You could have sworn he blushed.
After a moment of fiddling with his phone, he said, “Here. Sorry I don’t have headphones or a speaker or something with me.”
“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to hear just fine.” You leaned forward as Changbin, grimacing at the first bars of the demo, held up his phone between you; then, you just concentrated on the music.
Meanwhile, Changbin felt like he was about to run and hide. You were mere inches from him, hair swinging down into your face as you listened intently. It was as if time had stopped completely, and you and he were the only people on Earth. He desperately tried not to stare as your mouth, lips parted slightly, quirked up in a smile at the lyrics. And if he noticed how your sweater hugged your body in just the right places, and how he’d like to be hugging those places, too, he promptly shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. As you seemed more and more entranced by the music, his music, Changbin had the wild urge to lean forward and ki—
“Changbin, this is incredible!” you said as the song ended, your eyes gleaming in the light of the porch light as you turned to him. Suddenly, you realized just how close you were to Changbin—it would be so easy to just lean your head on his shoulder. You mentally shook yourself. “I had no idea you guys were producing music like this. And this is just a demo?”
Still reeling from being utterly stunned by your beauty, Changbin started. “I— Yeah, it’s just the demo. That last song that was playing inside was actually one of ours. Chan just slips them into whatever mix he’s DJ-ing at events.”
You beamed, impressed and excited. “So, I honestly can’t think of anything I’d want to change about that song, other than . . . maybe even out the lead up to the chorus? Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Changbin reassured you, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Hey, how about you come by the studio one day? I’d be able to make the edits with you there, and I think I might have another song you could help with.” At your surprised look, Changbin added, “But only if you want to. I don’t mean to pressure you, sorry.”
“I’d love to,” you said simply, and meant it. You looked down at your lap. “I don’t know much about composition, but I think it would fun to learn. Plus, if Jisung likes you and Chan, then you must be cool. And talented!”
Changbin gave you a searching look and you said quickly, “I mean, we’re neighbors and all, so we talk or see each other randomly and he always mentions you!”
“Ah, okay. Well, I’d like to live up to your expectations,” Changbin said self-consciously. He stood abruptly and you did as well, fiddling with your cider cup.
“Changbin?” you said before he could take another step toward the door, and he froze like you'd captured him in one of the ice sickles that hung from the roof. “How- how should I get in touch with you?” And just as you said it, you remembered the little slip of paper that was left on your coffee table that first time you’d met 3racha. Oh.
“I thought I gave you my number already,” Changbin chuckled, looking like one of the cats on his sweater that had just gotten into the cream.
You took a breath. “Right. Yeah, I remember now.”
“Just text me when you’re free and we can figure out when you want to come by to listen to more music.” Changbin stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving you a small smile.
“Oh, okay,” you agreed. “I guess I’ll text you tomorrow!”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Changbin said lightly, and winked before turning to open the door. “Come on, you look half frozen,” he said, his voice soft with not a trace of mockery in it.
You were cold and as you walked through the door back into the warmth, you tried to ignore the feeling of being pulled toward Changbin like you were two halves of a magnet. It was a new feeling, being drawn to someone so forcefully, and you were more than intrigued.
↠↞
When you got home from the party, you gratefully sagged onto your couch, glad to be away from all those people. After just sitting for long minutes, you got up and changed into your wonderfully soft and plush robe—it was one of the things you’d bought for yourself just because you could, just so you could have something nice. Then, you made tea and curled on the couch again; you’d only had the one drink that didn’t even have much alcohol in it, but you were still tired from being around that many people. So, you just sat and enjoyed your tea, letting your thoughts wonder.
“Y/N?” Jisung’s voice came down the hall into your living room, since he’d slipped through via the bathroom. He saw you curled on the couch in your robe with your mug of tea, and paused before entering the room. The simple domesticity of the tableau was so sweet that it stirred his desire to, someday, have a lovely home with the one he loved where things would be happy and calm. And right then and there, Jisung knew that he was definitely developing feelings for you. “Hey, you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before sitting next to you.
“Hey,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“You didn’t stay too long—did you at least have an okay time tonight?” Jisung asked.
“Yeah, it’s always fun to see people in horrible sweaters,” you chucked. You proffered your tea to him. “Want some?”
Jisung took the mug and sipped delicately from it, sighing as the tea warmed his insides. “So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie like we said?”
“Mmmm,” you thought for a moment, cupping the back of Jisung’s neck and running your fingers through his hair. “How about we watch a couple episodes of that show I was telling you about, then take a bath together. I could really use the relaxing heat from the water.”
“Oh, that sounds perfect, angel,” Jisung sighed. “Can I grab your computer so we can watch, then?” He stood and looked around for the device. “Where’d you hide it this time?”
“Sorry,” you said, smiling ruefully. “It’s on the floor in my bedroom.”
Jisung retrieved your computer and set it on the coffee table in front of you, gently massaging your back as he waited for you to sign in and pull up the video streaming site. The only light in the room came from a small lamp you had in the corner, which cast a warm glow over everything. Jisung leaned into the nook where the couch’s back and arm met and you snuggled in beside and on him as he pulled you against his chest. He was warm and soft, and you felt entirely at ease—more at home with him than you’d felt with anyone else. As the second episode began, Jisung began lazily tracing circles up and down your arm, occasionally passing over your cheeks. Once or twice, he ran a finger along your lips, making them tingle. It was more than a little distracting and it wasn’t long before you felt a faint tingle of desire. Jisung’s body, which had been so relaxed before, was now filled with a low-level energy that made him feel like his blood was vibrating.
You twisted round to look up at him, a questioning look in your eyes, and he leaned forward to pause the show before capturing your lips with his. You smiled against his mouth and Jisung hoisted you further up onto his lap so you were almost sitting sideways. His tongue darted out to swipe along the crease of your mouth, and you gladly let him in, your tongues sliding by each other as you pressed yourself closer to Jisung. His hand on your waist began to travel upward as he kissed down your neck and along your shoulder, and you sighed at the warmth of his skin.
“You’re not wearing anything under that robe, are you?” Jisung said, pulling back and giving you a mischievous look.
“Nope!” you chirped innocently, and kissed his nose. Jisung’s eyes darkened as his pupils blew wide with desire.
“Oh, angel,” Jisung growled faintly as he ran his hand down your stomach to between your legs. As you continued to kiss, he chuckled faintly and pulled aside the folds of your robe to slide his hand up your inner thigh. His slow teasing soon had you moaning and wriggling, and it was obvious that he simply wanted to enjoy touching you, making you squirm just that little bit. But, he never brought you close to release—that wasn’t the point.
When you’d had enough of his teasing, you murmured, “Ji, let’s take the bath.” You had to concentrate to keep speaking as he moved his fingers in a particularly satisfying way. “The water will feel amazing and we’ll be relaxed,” you said, adjusting your position on his lap. Jisung groaned, and let you rise before following you out of the room.
While the tub filled higher and higher, you let your robe drop to the floor, and your body reacted to the cold air coming through the ever-open window. Jisung, his clothes already thrown in a heap in the corner, stared at you like you were Aphrodite herself. Ignoring the various thoughts swirling around in his head, Jisung stepped into the tub and was surprised at how hot it was, but sank down into the water nonetheless. “Come on, angel,” he said, patting his lap and making small waves in the water. “I’ve got a comfy seat here just for you.” He winked.
Grinning, you stepped in after him and the water splashed a little as you sat down, making both of you giggle. You talked about your week and how classes were going, always skirting around the topic of exams. It wasn’t long before you’d completely exhausted all college-related conversation; it simply wasn’t romantic. You lay back against Jisung, who slid lower into the water and put his hands on your hips. Your hands went automatically over his, and the two of you simply reveled in the warmth of the water and the feeling of being skin-to-skin.
Before long, the slight pressure against your low back became more insistent, until you turned to Jisung and said, “How about I keep you nice and warm, babe.”
“Sounds lovely.” Jisung murmured against your hair and carefully guided your hips down onto his waiting member. You groaned as he filled you up, the ache you hadn’t even known you’d felt all day suddenly satisfied.
“Oh god, yes,” you breathed and leaned your head back, exposing your neck for Jisung to kiss and nibble.
You gently wiggled your hips and settled, simply enjoying the sensation of being full. The hot water swirling around you felt like velvet caressing your skin. Turning slightly with your head still on his shoulder, you found Jisung’s mouth with yours and your kisses were as lazy and languid as the warm sunlight of a summer morning. You occasionally rocked your hips against Jisung’s gently, feeling him deep inside. And when you teased him like that, he would simply press himself further against you and you’d moan, kissing him harder.
Nothing was rushed or intense—just the feelings of warmth and being together, connected. You reveled in the pure sensations, relaxing into Jisung’s hold more every second. He had one hand on your hip, gently massaging the muscle there, and the other roving over your body, depending on his whims. Your fingers tangled in his hair, carding through it as you kissed. All of your attention was focused on Jisung—your point of connection with him, his hands on you, his soft mouth—and you filled his world, too, blotting out all else like a solar eclipse.
↠↞
“Bin, you said we’d meet Jisung here. Where is he? Isn’t he supposed to be at home?” Chan said, clearly having to concentrate on enunciating his words more carefully than usual. He and Changbin were standing on the front step of Jisung’s apartment, waiting impatiently for their best friend to open the door. It was cold.
“Dunno.” Changbin gestured expansively. “He said we should come over, right? There aren’t many places he’d go.” Then, Changbin blanched. “You don’t think he was kidnapped or something, do you?”
“Oh come on, you’re drunk,” Chan scoffed.
“You are, too!” Changbin retorted.
“Yeah, but at least I’m not hyplerbizing. . . No, hyperblazing. Shit.” Chan looked blankly down at the snow for a second, his friend being absolutely no help at all as he frantically texted Jisung. “Got it! Hyperbolizing. Yeah, at least I’m not hyperbolizing.”
“I’m not,” Changbin insisted. “I’m just being sensible. Jisung barely ever ducks out on stuff, so why now? He was at the party, for god’s sake. We saw him— What, two hours ago?”
Chan leaned on the doorframe and sighed. “Well, I guess there’s only one option, then.”
“Yeah?”
“We go through the window.” Changbin gave him a blank look. “You know,” Chan continued, “Y/N’s bathroom window! Jisung said he’s gone through there to get to his apartment, and maybe she’ll know where he is. They’ve gotta at least keep in touch if they’re neighbors.”
Changbin spluttered. He couldn’t believe Chan had just suggested that they, for lack of a better phrase, break into your apartment. But then again, maybe you did know where Jisung was—it was worth a try.
So, Chan and Changbin made their way around to the other side of the house, trying not to look suspicious, and found the window that was cracked slightly open. Soft light poured from it, lancing across the bare ground below. And, there was the conveniently placed log, now fallen on its side. It didn’t look like Jisung had come through this way for awhile.
“Chan, are you sure about this?” Changbin whispered.
“Well, you wanna go hang out with Jisung, yeah?”
“Fine, yes,” Changbin grumbled.
Chan hopped up onto the log and pulled himself up to peek in the window. He was completely still for a moment, then put his feet back down and, with an indiscernible look on his face, motioned to Changbin.
“What? Is it locked or something?” Changbin asked, confused. Chan just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, and motioned for Changbin to take his spot on the log.
“Boost me up?” he said to Chan, who gave him a wild look, but held out his hands for Changbin to step on anyway.
When Changbin’s head rose above the window, he stared. You were laying there in the tub, naked and lithe as a cat. But you weren’t alone. Jisung, his best friend Han Jisung, was in the tub with you. And you were kissing, Jisung’s hands all over you. As he beheld your form, Changbin felt like he was about to burst apart into a thousand pieces. Unable to tear his eyes away, Changbin saw you undulate your hips against Jisung’s and heard you sigh wantonly. You were completely engrossed in each other, unaware of your silent audience.
You let out a loud moan and Changbin’s hands, cramped from the cold and clutching the windowsill, betrayed him so he nearly lost his grip. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the house’s siding. He tried to keep his breathing under control, but his mind was full of smooth skin, water, and the sound of your sighs. Fuck. We shouldn’t be here.
But just at that moment, Chan chose to actually boost him up toward the window and, because Changbin was shocked at seeing you naked in a bathtub with Jisung, he toppled forward.
↠↞
The feeling of almost unraveling but never quite tipping over the edge was absolutely delicious, and yet having nothing between you and Jisung was even better. Your eyes were closed, focusing on the sensations, rather than trying to see anything, and you gasped against every so often. Jisung gently bit down on your shoulder whenever you did.
You were resting your full weight back against Jisung’s chest, simply enjoying the feel of him touching you everywhere possible. Then, you felt Jisung twitch inside you as you ground against him, and he began to thrust up into you with more regularity. A particularly loud moan escaped your lips, the ache deep inside pulsing, just as you heard a scuffling sound from outside.
“Ji? What was that?” you asked, your eyes flying open.
“It’s probably just some raccoons,” Jisung said offhandedly.
“Hmmm,” was all you replied and closed your eyes again. You held onto his knees for support as Jisung’s pace increased, making little waves dance in the tub.
And then . . .
It seemed like all hell broke loose as a body crashed through the slightly open window. You shrieked in surprise and Jisung yelled, “What the fuck?” All sense of arousal gone, you froze before peeking above the rim of the bathtub.
You had a distinct sense of deja vu as, yet again, you saw a young man sprawled on your bathroom floor.
Shit.
Shit!!
Belatedly, you realized that you were, indeed, naked, and you were in the bath. With Jisung. And you were still sitting on his dick, which now seemed to have a mind and agenda of its own. Oh, and it was freezing now that the window was fully open, making you feel like someone had pulled the skin on your chest taut as a bowstring.
“Seo Changbin, what the actual fuck?!!” Jisung almost, almost, bellowed as he firmly held you in place on his lap, not wanting his friend to notice anymore than he already had.
“I—” Changbin stammered, but was cut off as Jisung yelled again, seeing another face at the window.
“Chan, too? What the hell?! I just— What the hell?” As much as he might have seemed angry, you could feel Jisung laughing silently as he took in the situation.
“Fuck,” was all Chan said as his gaze took you in, and you pulled your legs up in front of yourself in some, futile, attempt to hide your nakedness.
“Well?” Jisung demanded.
“We were looking for you, bro,” Changbin said from the floor. “We had plans!”
“And you said you climb through Y/N’s window all the time!” Chan added . . . helpfully.
“I told you I had something going on tonight.” Jisung sighed and grumbled, “But I guess you didn’t remember that.” Then, rolling his eyes Jisung said, “How much did you two drink, anyway?”
“Hey, don’t be like that, man,” Chan said, still peering through the window. “It wasn’t that much!”
“Bullshit,” you said, speaking for the first time.
“Okay, whatever. You’re right,” Changbin grumbled from the floor, looking a little ill.
“Both of you: Get. Out.” Jisung’s voice was firm, but he still couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice.
“Can’t we go through the little door?” Chan said hopefully.
“Y/N?” Changbin implored you, eyes wide.
“Fine. Just go through the damn door so you can get out of my fucking bathroom!” Your voice rose and you crossed your arms over your chest.
Once Chan had climbed through the window, catching a sleeve on the windowsill in the process, and Changbin had retrieved Jisung’s keys from his pants, the two of them squeezed through the passageway to Jisung’s apartment. You tried your best not to giggle at how much they looked like those same raccoons Jisung had mentioned earlier, practically falling over each other as they rushed to get out of the bathroom.
“I’ll be over at some point,” Jisung called after them. “Good riddance,” he said more quietly to you.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” you huffed out in a laugh.
“Yeah, I can’t either,” Jisung groaned. “But I’m not surprised. That’s those two in a nutshell, honestly.”
You leaned your head back against Jisung’s shoulder again and sighed. He was still inside you, and you were suddenly glad that you’d been facing forward when Chan and Changbin had appeared. Completely unable to resist Jisung’s soft skin, you nuzzled his jaw.
“Well, I guess that cat’s out of the bag,” you shrugged.
“They’ll never let me live it down,” Jisung replied, burying his face in your neck.
“Nope, they won’t!” you giggled and pecked Jisung’s cheek.
#inkidz#ultkpop#stayhavennet#0325net#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#bang chan#seo changbin#han jisung#3racha#.moonlight
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Seven Days of Valentines, (Diamonds and Daddies side story) Whiskey x F!Reader CH 4
A/N: Thanks to @talesfromtheguild for Beta reading and helping me with many ideas for this! This will be a weekly series leading up to Valentines Day
I try to keep Readers physical appearance as open as possible for this story, but please note in these chapters shes going to become more of a ‘character’, some specific interests of hers are going to come into play.
This is canon to the main Diamonds and Daddies story, but i am uploading as its own thing. You do not need to have read Diamonds and Daddies to read this, just know its a fic about Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels being a Sugar Daddy and the reader is a professional Sugar Baby.
Fandom: Kingsman the golden circle Ship: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Cis F!reader Warning/tags: established relationship, P in V sex, fingering, Oral ( F receiving) , multiple orgasms, over stimulation, dirty talk, Daddy kink, DD/LG/BDSM style relationship, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl) checking of safe word, possessive language, aftercare, toys, squirting, pussy slap, nipple/clit pump, some mild fluff
Let me know if i forget anything
Word count: 6K +
My master list Seven days of Valentines masterlist AO3 LINK Buy me a Kofi
Summary: Whiskey whisks his Sugar baby away for a romantic Valentine’s getaway. Day four, jack gift Honey Bee a special gift.
Thursday 12th of February
As promised, you were left with a very sore and tender pussy.
You awoke in uncomfortable pleasure with Jack's face buried between your legs, devouring you as if he hadn’t had his fill of you less than eight hours earlier.
Lazily, you tried to push him away with your hand, in a feeble attempt to fall back to sleep, however thanks to your lingering sensitivity and the skill of his tongue he managed to coax you to orgasm despite your meager attempt to recede back into sleep.
You whimpered, grogginess clear in your high whines, as Jack lapped you up, savoring your taste before beginning to kiss his way up your body, pushing up his t-shirt you still wore to kiss at more of your soft skin. He gravitated towards your lips finally, lazily melding his mouth to yours. You tasted yourself on his tongue, alongside that taste you couldn’t describe as anything other than Jack. You moaned together, as if relieved to be connected once again finally.
Strong, familiar arms wrapped around you and lifted your hips to his, he hissed into your kiss as your soaked core rubbed up against his erection through his sweatpants.
“Is your sore pussy up to taking Daddy this morning?” he asked when you finally separated your lips from one another. His voice was raspy with sleep and need.
“If I'm not too sensitive for you to eat me out before I’ve even woken up, then I’m sure I can take your cock Daddy,” you cooed, giggling at the way his eyes darkened and the hungry look he gave you as he quickly hooked his sweats under his cock and balls.
“If you can still take me after last night, then clearly I didn't do a good enough job,” he teased before he pushed himself inside you with a satisfied groan.
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Even with Jack’s morning distraction he had the two of you out the door, before noon, dressed ready in warmer clothes than usual due to the reported snowfall.
He took you to Piazza Navona, it was beautiful, even with the overcast gray sky, thanks to the cold February air it was not as busy as you expected, giving you and Jack plenty of space to roam about the decadent square to observe the beauty of the architecture and fountains.
Snow covered the ground, which did not dampen your experience in the slightest. Jack promised to ‘make up for it’ in the future by taking you back in warmer months, but you silenced his worries with a kiss.
“I am thrilled we are here, even if it's cold, I don't need blue skies and sunshine to appreciate any of this Jack.”
He gave you a soft smile in return, feeling some of his worry lift.
“I still want to take you back here Sugar, one day.”
“I would love that, I just don't want you thinking I'm somehow disappointed because you took me here in late winter. I love it Jack, thank you.”
You shared a deep kiss in front of one of the fountains, as the only two people in the square.
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You were equally as excited when Jack took you to your next location for the day, and found it was just as empty as Piazza Navona. Trevi fountain was covered in snow, the blanket was growing steadily thicker as snow began to fall, Jack was grateful he had the foresight of an umbrella that day, opening it up and pulling you to his side as you both made your way over to the famed fountain.
“This is amazing, that we get to experience such a place, just the two of us” you whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder, huddling closer to him against the cold.
“It seems surreal Darlin,” he hummed beside you, kissing the crown of your head. “It’s like we’re the only two people in the world.”
You giggled. “Hmmm, and is this what we would do? If we were? Travel around, seeing the sights?”
“If it were just the two if us, I would want nothing more than just to explore the rest of the world with you, Honey Bee,” he smiled.
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You flipped through photos you had taken that morning on your phone as you sat in the passenger seat, Jack beside you holding your free hand as the driver took you to wherever he had planned for your lunch.
You giggled at one particular photo, Jack was pulling a face into the camera as he would often do when in a playful mood.
“Send me them when you get a chance Darlin,” he said warmly beside you, smiling at your smile. You gave him a nod before swiping through more.
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Lunch, as it turned out, was very similar to yesterday's lunch, as Jack had surprised you with another workshop. However, this time you were taking a pizza class.
Your stomach growled as you entered the warm Pizzeria, shrugging off the thick winter coats you wore and hanging them up. You were grateful for the change in temperature as you both cleaned off the snow clinging to the rest of your clothes before joining the small class.
You decided to spend the time this lesson enjoying the experience more than teasing Jack, who seemed just as agreeable to the notion as you stood side by side at your station, listening to your instructor.
You had a lot of fun, Jack kneaded the dough for you as you stood to the side, admiring his arms as he rolled up his sleeve and got to work. As the dough was stored away to rise, you cleaned your station together, sitting down to decide what toppings you each wanted.
Your pizza base was an uneven circle, Jack rolling it out once they were all deemed acceptable. You giggled at the lopsidedness of it, taking a quick photo of Jack’s pout as you giggled over your lumpy pizza base.
Together you made the sauce and spread it on your base, before you were finally allowed to decorate it with toppings. Before you could start, Jack made an equally uneven heart shape out of your shredded mozzarella, and with sauce bottle in hand, he managed to write a very messy “JD ❤️ HB”
You ‘awwed’ at the gesture, quickly snapping a picture of Jack next to his creation, smiling proudly.
“How very ‘cheesy’ of you,” you joked lamley, making Jack groan.
You finished putting the rest of your toppings on before you were finally allowed to deliver your pizza to the pizza oven. Jack was thrilled to get to use the large wooden pizza peel, and you made sure to take a video of Jack putting your pizza in the large oven to cook with help from the instructor.
While your lunch cooked you cleaned everything up, leaving your station as spotless as you found it. When the food was ready you and Jack sat at the tables, alongside other couples, chatting away happily as you all ate together, his arm around you lazily.
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You were surprised when Jack led you back to the hotel much earlier than you expected, having just finished lunch and bundling back up in your coats to brave the increasing snow.
You weren't complaining though, as you entered the lobby just as the snow had started to become a blizzard, more than happy to escape the cold for the rest of the day.
You were taken back to your room, and perhaps a little disappointed as you entered the bedroom, finding no gifts laid out.
Jack took notice, chuckling and kissing your cheek.
“Later Honey, we’re only stopping by to get rid of our winter gear,” he said warmly, shedding his coat once more and changing into some comfortable lounging clothes. He encouraged you to do the same, so quickly you dressed into a large baggy sweater dress, warm leggings and soft ugg boots. He took your hand once you were ready, and just as quickly as you had arrived to your suite, you were swept away to some unknown part of the hotel.
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You were delighted when you passed through two large glass doors to what you could only describe as a mini spa resort.
The air was warm and misty, smelling vaguely of vanilla and pine, tiled floors made shoes click as they passed over it, the walls were gray, with a large mural walk behind the tall reception desk. The hotel's logo stood out on the mural of trees, and sitting underneath, behind the desk were two petite young women who greeted you with a smile.
“Mr Daniels?” one of them asked in a strong italian accent.
Jack smiled and nodded, pulling you with him as you were led down a short hallway to the side, and then into a changing room where robes and towels waited for you.
You both undressed in your cubicles, putting on the towels and plush white robes provided for you. Jack took your hand back once the two of you were ready for whatever treatment you were about to get.
As usual, Jack had spared no expense, and the two of you were treated to a full spa experience. Jack had even gone the extra mile to give you a full beauty treatment as an added bonus.
You were able to relax in the Sauna together, your head resting on Jack’s shoulder as the heat sweat away your stresses. That was followed up by your beauty treatment. Mani and pedi, facial, exfoliation, face mask, eye mask, you experienced the full works, all while Jack cooled off in an Ice bath.
You enjoyed your pedicure along with a small sample of fruits and sandwich , followed up with a delicious slice of decadent cake, and a glass of champagne.
And the entire spa experience was topped off with a couples massage.
Jack reached across the small gap between your tables whenever he could to hold your hand in his. Any tension you had in your body melted away thanks to the expert hands of your masseuse and the scented oils coating your skin.
Sighing, you closed your eyes, trying hard not to fall asleep due to your extremely relaxed state, waiting to enjoy the feeling as much as possible by not drifting off.
You giggled, along with your masseuses when Jack's steady snore revibriated along the tiled walls, his hand relaxing in your grip as he drifted off, completely and utterly relaxed.
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By the time your massage had ended you were feeling more loose and relaxed than you had ever felt in your life, you rolled your shoulders with a content sigh, loving how loose your muscles felt.
“Damn Darlin, I didn't even realize my back was hurting so much until the pain went away,” Jack sighed beside you, taking your hand as you made your way back to the changing room to shower off the oil still coated to your skin.
“You enjoy your beauty treatment?” he asked, taking your hand in his once you were dressed, inspecting your manicure and affectionately stroking your fingers with his.
“Yes,” you nodded smiling at him. “Thank you.”
He smiled back and kissed your forehead. “Not that you need a beauty treatment Darlin, you’re already stunning,” he said, making you blush.
Washed, dried, and dressed you made your way back to your suite together.
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As he had promised earlier, gifts were now laid out on the bed, you bounced over to them excitedly, making Jack chuckle at your eagerness. Three boxes, with no clothes set out that evening, which surprised and intrigued you. As expected, one of the boxes contained a lingerie set, red and lacy, but unlike the other set the had bought for you so far, they were not intended to be practical, usable underwear as well, as the cups of the ‘bra’ were not there, the lace would perfectly frame your breasts, leaving them exposed for Jacks viewing pleasure. The ‘panties’ were matching, crotchless, this set was purely to wrap you up nice and pretty leaving everything open to Jack so he would not have to remove a single piece from you to get what he wants.
He growled softly behind you, wrapping his arms around you to kiss at your neck. “Gonna look so good in that Darlin,” he said, voice deep with lust already at the thought of you wearing it.
“Open the others”
You placed the first box down back on the bed, reaching for the next closest box and lifting the lid. Instantly you felt yourself growing wet at the sight of its content.
“I hope after last night you won't be too sore to play with these tonight,” Jack’s teasing voice tickled your neck as you stared down at the toys in the box.
So far, in the short time you had been together you had experimented with toys only a handful of times, and so far, they had been simple bullets and vibes. Evidently tonight, Jack wanted to be a bit more, experimental.
One simple, silver bullet vibe, a finger vibe, a silicone egg attached to a silicone string you could only guess vibrated, and the largest dildo you had ever seen in person. Your heart was beating fast in anticipation, and you were sure Jack could feel it with his lips latched to your pulse point.
“Open the last one,” he rasped.
You almost dropped the box as you opened it, overwhelming anticipation making you shake as you stared down at a toy you had only ever dreamed about being used on you.
Nipple and clit pumps, you were certain Jack was planning on a night just as intense as the last night, and you were more than looking forward to it.
“Go, get changed, I’ll be waiting for you.”
You were quick to change in the ensuite, touching up your hair in the mirror and re-applying Jacks favorite mascara. When you came back out to the bedroom, dressed in the exposing red number, Jack was laid out on the bed, even more exposed than you, completely nude as he lay back with a cocky grin, slowly pumping his hardening cock.
You feigned feeling bashful, hiding half of your body behind the door frame and avoiding his eyes. He chuckled, becoming you over with his finger.
“No need to feel shy Darlin, you look good enough to eat,” he hummed, still stroking his cock slowly with one hand while the other was open to you in invitation. You padded over the soft carpet, still pretending to feel shy. As soon as you were in reach he pulled you to the bed, pushing you onto your back and bending over you to give you a kiss.
“I really could eat you up, you sexy little thing,” he teased, his fingers dancing across your skin to the lacy edges of your ‘bra’, the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare breasts as he played with the lace.
“These,” he said, squeezing your breasts, weighing them in his palm. “A meal fit for a king,” he continued, growling before dipping his head further to mouth at your breasts. He lavished attention to them, making sure to toy with the one not currently in his mouth with his hand, squeezing, kneading the flesh in his large calloused hands, and tweaking your nipple while he licked and suckled on the other one.
You moaned, already aroused just by looking at the toys he had selected for that night, but even further so now. You felt your arousal leak out of you, with no barrier to hold it thanks to the lack of material covering your centre.
Jack switched, making sure each of your breasts felt the attention of his mouth, you looked down at him, and found him staring back at you with intense, dark eyes, watching your every reaction, every gasp and moan.
“Fuck, I love your tits,” he moaned agaisnt your skin, placing a few soft kisses to your peaked nipples before pulling away. His hand stroking the flesh of your thigh as he sat up, erection proudly twitching against his stomach.
“Which of those toys caught your attention most, baby?” He asked, positioning you gently further back on the bed.
“T-the pumps,” you answered truthfully, rubbing your coated thighs together in anticipation as Jack got up off the bed to collect the boxes.
“Yeah? You want Daddy to torture your nipples and poor little clit?” he asked, setting the boxes beside you on the bed.
You nodded up at him eagerly.
“Daddy will do just that,” he promised, picking out the finger vibe from the box and sliding it over his index, switching it on so it buzzed lightly. “But I want to try them all out on you baby.”
His finger started at your nipples, trailing slowly down your body until he reached your clit, circling it gently so the vibrations barely tickled you. You whined, lifting your hips , trying to gain more pressure to your clit, but Jack slapped your thich in warning.
“You take what Daddy gives you,” he reminded you, torturing you further by rubbing his vibrating finger over your clit directly, so lightly you could only just feel the promise of the vibrations against your swollen bud.
“Daddy please,” you whined, pouting when he chuckled at you, not taking pity on you.
“Patience is a virtue sugar,” he teased, leaning over to rasp in your ear. “Daddy will will make you cum so hard so much it fucking hurts if you be good for me.”
You moaned, knowing full well Jack always kept his promises if you behaved for him.
“Imagine that big one inside you,” he continued, knowing full well his words could turn you on just as much as his touches. “I wanna see your sweet little peach of a pussy stretch around that, your hungry little hole taking that massive cock, fuck, I bet it would hurt to cum around that thing, your cunt stretched so much and tightening around that, fuck I could cum just imagining that.”
You moaned again, nodding your head and silently begging for just that, wanting to please him, wanting that painful pleasure.
Your eyes were closed, imagining his little fantasy, how good it would feel when he surprised you by pushing the vibe right onto your clit, making you yelp.
“We’re gonna start small, and make our way up,” he said, sitting back up to watch you writhe under the pleasure of the vibe. “It’s going to be another long night Baby girl.”
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Jack had successfully made you cum with the finger vibe without ever sliding anything inside you, and had slowly worked you open with the small silver vibe, pumping it in and out of you slowly, bringing you back to the edge of pleasure before abandoning it to the side. You whined in frustration as he took his sweet time picking the next toy, much to your annoyance. There were two toys left in that box and you knew he was going to end with the larger one. He was simply trying to rile you up.
Deciding you were being just a bit too bratty with your complaints, he gave your pussy a harsh slap.
“Patience Baby,” he warned with a growl. “That's your second warning!”
You bit your lip, trying to silence yourself as he pretended to decide which toy to use.
Eventually he picks up the silicone egg and returned to his previous position between your legs, laying on his stomach so he could watch up close.
He turned the egg on, feeling it buzz in his palm before slowly pushing it inside you, cooing gently about how good your pussy looked, framed by your panties as it stretched around the widest part of the egg. Shoving it inside you as deep as it could reach he watched with fascination how slick leaked from you with each powerful buzz.
“Remember, you can’t cum until Daddy says you can,” he laughed before licking up your arousal with a moan. You heard him whisper against your folds how you tasted so good.
You were focusing hard on not cumming until he said so, but that was made far more difficult when he took a hold of the silicone ‘string’ attached to the toy, slowly pulling it down your channel and stretching your hole again.
You keened, arching your back and trying so hard to wait for his permission. He repeated the action, pushing the vibrating egg deep inside you before slowly pulling it out, stopping when you stretched around the widest point. He watched entranced, growling hungrily every time your entrance stretched around it.
He kissed your clit, circling his tongue around it, drinking up your moans.
“Fuck baby, watching my sweet little cunt stretch like this, just makes me want to see what else I can fit in you,” he moaned, lapping up at your folds now. “Im gonna buy the biggest fucking toy I can find when we get home, we’re gonna find your limit one day.”
His lips latched onto your core, eating you out vigorously, and still playing with the toy with his hand, he was struggling to grip it securely with how much you were leaking.
He shoved the toy back inside, pushing up right against your g-spot as he began suckling your clit.
You shrieked, trying not to wriggle too much as you begged, helplessly, for permission.
“Daddy! Please! Please! Pleasepleaseplease!” You wailed. Looking down at him, between your legs, eyes watching you intently again, you saw him nod.
Permission.
You thanked him with a cry as you arched further off of the bed, pushing your hips up into his mouth as he drank down your release, tongue lapping at your hole beside the silicone still hanging out of you. You clenched down around the toy, shaking as your walls contracted around the vibrations.
“Daddy!” You whined, slowly rocking your hips into his face as you rode out your orgasm. As the waves of pleasure washed away, Jack ever so slowly pulled the toy out of you, kissing your clit in praise as he did so. You whimpered, sensitive as he kissed you there.
He cooed again as you stretched around the toy, watching as he pulled it out at a snails pace, enraptured at the sight.
“My pretty little pussy,” he praised, diving to lap up at you again once the toy popped out of you. You mewled, lazily trying to push him away, but he wouldn't be denied his sweet treat.
Jack tossed the toy to the side and crawled up your body, lifting your thighs around his waist. Teasingly, he rocked his hips so his cock, now leaking pre-cum onto your skin.
“Daddy wants to be inside his pretty little pussy,” he rasped. “I know you’re sensitive baby, oohhh but daddy wants to make you a creamy mess before you take that big one, I need you slick with both our cum before I stretch you out with that thing.”
He was rambling, but watched your expression carefully as he lined himself up with your hole, smearing his pre-cum around your folds, waiting for any kind of refusal before pushing his hips forward and filling you easily thanks to his attentions with the egg.
“Fuck, there we go,” he groaned when the flesh of your ass met his thighs. Bottoming out inside of you. You moaned loudly as he filled you up, feeling his tip meet your innermost wall. “I aint ever been in a pussy this good Baby.”
Having neglected his cock for so long, choosing to pleasure you ahead of himself, Jack didn’t bother wasting time building up a slow and steady pace. He pounded into you hard and fast as he always did when chasing his own release and slaps echoing in the room.
He crashed his lips on yours, noses bumping together as the taste of your cum flooded your mouth. The kiss was sloppy, and messy, but Jack desperately seemed to need his mouth on yours as his hips rammed yours. You could tell by his desperation he would not last long, he rarely did when he had aroused himself so much by pleasuring you.
Once, twice, three times he bucked into you hard before warm cum flooded your insides, he pulled your bottom lip into his mouth and bit hard, but not hard enough to draw blood, groaning loudly.
You didn’t complain about the fact that he had sought his own release as he lazily pulled out of you, pushing his seed back inside you with his thumb, knowing full well he intended to make you cum at least once more that night.
“Baby,” he sighed, licking his thumb clean of your combined releases. “What's your color? You still good to try take that big one?”
“Green Daddy,” you sighed, settling into the pillows comfortably, preparing yourself for the challenge.
“My perfect girl,” he said proudly, kissing your cheek and retrieving the toy.
You knew there were larger toys out there, but this would be the largest you had ever taken personally, it was bigger than Jack, who was already an impressive size himself. He placed the toy beside you on the bed before opening the bedside drawer for a bottle of lube.
“I know you’re wet Darlin, you’re always wet for me, your horny little cunt’s always up for more, isn’t she? But we still need to prep you” he said, coating his fingers in lube and putting two in you straight away. The artificial lube, mixed with both of your cum made obscene noises as Jack pumped his fingers and stretched you open.
“Daddy can get hard again on that noise alone Honey Bee,” he chuckled, laughing harder as your eyes widened as you glanced down at his spent, wet cock that was already twitching with interest.
You bit your lip and wiggled slightly, stopping when his eyes cut back to your face in warning.
“Are you going to take me again Daddy?” You asked as a third finger pushed inside you.
“Ohhh, you can bet on it Baby,” he moaned, watching your hole stretching around his fingers. When he managed to fit a fourth, large finger inside you, he stretched you wide open so he could stare into your hole, groaning at the sight.
“My perfect little cunt,” he whispered before spitting into your hole, giving you an obnoxiously cocky grin before pulling his fingers free and shoving them in your mouth to clean.
Obediently you lapped them up, cleaning your combined cum and lube off of his fingers while his free hand opened the bottle again. Once he deemed his fingers acceptably clean he pulled them out of the hot cavern of your mouth and picked up the toy, coating it generously in lube.
“You sweet little pussy’s gonna look so good taking this,” he growled, shoving your legs apart as wide as they could go and lining the tip of the toy up at your entrance. He was extremely careful, as he pushed it forward, watching your reaction carefully for any sign of discomfort. Even with the stretching and copious slick from the lube and cum it was a struggle to take, the stretch was burning and so far he had only pushed the tip in. Jack paused, waiting patiently for your face to relax as he slowly pulled the toy out, then back in, pushing just a little bit deeper each time, pausing, waiting for you to adjust each time you grimaced.
It took a lot of hard work, but with both your efforts the toy was eventually pushed as deep as it could go. You both moaned in unison once the toy could go no deeper. Jack laid down on his stomach, between your legs, staring longingly once again at the stretch of your pussy.
“Baby,” he cooed in adoration, running this finger around the toy where your hole stretched around it, making you whimper. “Look at that, fuck, just imagine how much we could get to fit in you with practice. Your sweet, tiny little pussy’s stretched so wide, Can’t wait to make you cum on that, bet it’s gonna hurt, make you cry, sweet thing.”
You were stretched so wide that the arousal you felt at his words could not escape, simply filling you up further, making you whine.
“Wait here, hold your legs open,” he ordered getting up off the bed, you noticed he was hard again already, having worked himself up watching you stretch around the new toy.
He picked up the last box.
Oh.
You had forgotten about that.
Jack gently picked up the pumps before returning to you, gently attaching the suction cups to each nipple and your clit. He loved how your breasts look, framed by the ‘bra’, pump attached to your nipples.
“Gonna make you cum so hard, it’ll hurt so good baby,” he rasped, voice deep and gravely with lust.
He squeezed the pump gently in one hand, watching how you would react with fierce intensity and hunger. The first pump was just enough to feel a slight suction, a mild sensation, but he continued to pump away slowly, watching the way your nipples began pulling up into the clear cups. He groaned at the sight, and once your nipples and clit started to feel the tight suction you whined loudly in both pain and pleasure, unintentionally squeezing around the large toy inside you still.
Without warning Jack repeatedly squeezed the pump hard and fast, startling you with the sudden, constant suction.
“Ahhhh! Daddy!” You yelped, struggling to keep still for him.
“You know your words,” he reminded you. “They’re there if you need them.”
You shook your head no, wanting that painful orgasm he promised you and was intent on giving you.
You were sobbing as he pumped away, clit and nipples red and raw as they were pulled up into the cups, there would be marks in the morning, no doubt about that.
It was painful, but incredibly arousing at the same time, they had never been this sensitive before, this abused and your head was swimming in the delirium of it.
Jack jerked himself off with his free hand above you, as you squirmed beneath him, the painful, burning stretch of the toy, and the constant and the arduous suction on your most sensitive parts were driving you insane.
To torment you further, Jack placed the pump down but did not release the suction, instead, grabbing onto one of the cups on your nipples and tugging at it. You cried, the pain agonising but it just made you anticipate your orgasm all the more.
Proud of the reaction he pulled from you, his hand moved to the suction cup on your clit, repeating the action. You shrieked, louder than you ever had before and Jack abandoned his cock to cover your mouth, as he repeatedly tugged at the cup, muffling your shrieks.
“Normally I love your noises Baby but we don't need people coming to investigate that now do we?” he teased. “Now I'm going to let go and you’re going to cum for me. You understand?”
You nodded into his hand.
“Good, you need to scream like that, do it into the pillow,” he said before pulling his hand from your mouth to grip the toy filling you up by the base and jackhammering it inside of you, still tugging at the pump on your clit.
It was instantaneous, and as painful as he had promised. Your hole was stretched as wide as it could possibly go right now and gripping hard on the toy that was stuffed inside you. Jack growled, watching with rapt fascination as your poor abused hole rhythmically clenched around the artificial cock.
You didn't shake as much as you thrashed, pulling the pillow to your face to scream your voice hoarse as tears escaped your eyes due to the pain you were drunk on.
Wet squelching, screams and Jack’s praises and curses filled the room as you came and cum gushed from you. Your body was both trying to milk the toy and push it out of you at the same time, and you realized the toy was being forced from you because you were squirting around it. Jack seemed unaware given how big the toy was, but he was preparing to enter you the second he pulled the toy from you, the hand previously tugging at your clit pump was stroking his cock while the hand still on the toy quickly pulled it out of you, coating him in the cum still squirting from you.
“Fuck Baby!” he shouted, surprised for just a moment before he growled and quickly shoved himself in your gaping pussy before you finished. Pounding into you at a brutal pace, unintentionally but happily massaging that spot making you squirt, drenching his front in even more cum before your body could take no more.
“Fuck I didn’t think this would be how I made you squirt the first time, but Im not complaining,” he groaned in your ear, ripping your pillow away from your face and pounding into you, holding your still thrashing body tightly to him, ignoring the pump still on you as his cock destroyed your hole. Over and over again.
His pace was brutal and you cried, from the intense pain and pleasure of your orgasm, from the suction still on your nipples and clit, from the overstimulation of him pounding into you before you had even finished, how tender and swollen your sex was that was continuing to be abused, and the words that dripped from his mouth.
“My fucking pussy, this is mine,” he growled, his voice sounding feral and animalistic. “No ones ever going to please you the way I do, fill you the way I do, every inch of you is mine!”
“Y-yours,” you eeped out, voice faint after screaming so loud.
That was all he needed to push him over the edge, shouting his release as he pulled you up into him and he pushed in as deep as he could go, ignoring how the pump dug into both of you, hitting your cervix, making you cry out as he came.You felt it leak out of you, your abused hole unable to hold it in as he pulled out. Pausing a moment to free you of the pump, making you hiss in pain and relief before Jack collapsed on top of you with a groan, resting his head between your breasts and wrapping his arms around you.
You weren't sure how long the two of you lay there, clinging to each other, hearts and breath slowing down and sweat cooling from your skin as you stroked his hair.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eventually, once he was no longer panting, Jack sat up, hair clinging to his sweaty forehead as he took survey of the mess on yourselves and the bed.
“You good baby?” he asked, the need for sleep clinging to his voice.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “That was…”
“Intense?” he supplied with a weak chuckle, getting up off of the bed. “Come on baby, let clean up and get you sorted.”
You whined in complaint, rolling to your side, back to him.
“I know you’re tired,” he cooed, gently picking you up and carrying you to the ensuite. “But you’ll regret waking up in a wet bed, covered in cum and sore as all hell.”
“Fine” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, more than happy to let him do all the work, and you knew he was more than happy to do it.
He took extra care with you that night, cleaning you up, removing the lingerie from your body, soothing your sore abused nipples with ointment, changing the bedsheets and praising you as you snuggled to him every chance you got.
You were already asleep by the time he put you to bed and tucked you in beside him.
Taglist:
@thats-one-tender-foot @luminescentlily @nuttybeardetective @ishqinbbc @ben-is-a-hoe @calamity-queen @phoenixhalliwell @talesfromtheguild @the-arctic-violet @jeeperky @mando-amando
#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey x reader#jack whiskey daniels x reader#my fic#Seven Days of Valentine's#DIamonds&Daddies#SugarDaddy!Whiskey#thots#smut
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Ikemen Vampire x Reader - “Residents In Modern Times”
Requested by anon: “Hello glorious author-chan! I have a request for you. I have a fun little imagine for you. Can you make an Ikemen Vampire imagine of what their reactions would be like in modern times?”
A/N: I honestly don’t know what this is, like it ended up as the child of a drabble and a headcanon.
Warning: implied smut and nudity (come on Arthur is here)
Napoleon Bonaparte:
He’d be shocked and in awe at the same time.
Wanting to know EVERYTHING about how people live in the 21st century.
Is it a better, easier life? Is everyone treated equally and safe?
He’s astonished by the night lights as well, so bright and beautiful.
It’s absolutely unforgettable and he stays up at night a little longer to watch the busy city below, drinking the beautiful view until he falls asleep.
Also more content with the clothing fashion.
Yes it’s very unusual to him since he’s not used to it but clothes used to be so uncomfortable, especially for women.
Though he really didn’t feel comfortable with such revealing clothes.
He’s very cute about it around you though, hiding in your neck with flushed, embarrassed cheeks.
Leonardo Da Vinci:
Doesn’t show his amazement as much except through his tone of voice.
Wants to know how a phone works.
Surprisingly -- or unsurprisingly -- not having to explain it regularly, he picks up on it very quickly.
He’s very impressed.
Your days were divided into visiting shops, showing him technologies, public transport, probably every single thing about the city and cuddling in bed and showing him how the TV works because “the mattress is so comfortable”.
Even though you know how comfortable a surface is, never stopped him from falling asleep.
He really likes it in the modern day.
I think he would be one of the residents that would fit in rather quickly and easily.
Comte De Saint Germain:
It’s not that much of a shocker for him for obvious reasons but because you’d spent your life in modern day, he got to see your view and had a much positive outlook on it.
Not that it was negative to begin with, he just didn’t pay as much attention to it before and now that he has, it’s eye opening, in a way.
He loved the sparkle in your eyes as you rejoiced in the things you used to know before you travelled back in time.
It was a sight for sore eyes.
He enjoyed visiting with you, even though he spent more time seeing the twinkle in your eyes than being happy over the smaller things.
Comte is much more open about PDA for obvious reasons and he feels the modern day is something the both of you share as a precious memory now.
Arthur Conan Doyle:
His demeanour is one of someone who’s seen everything already but the huge smile and eyes just showed that he was a little boy excited about discovering everything.
Arthur dragged you around to tell him how things work if he couldn’t pick up on by himself.
You went to a mall and Victoria’s Secret caught his eye so fast it was S C A R Y.
“Try this sweetheart, and this and this-”
Yes, despite all your protests, you spent the whole day in the store trying on clothes for him.
He enjoyed it very much.
Arthur promised he would discover something new with you that didn’t involved being naked.
How nice of him *chokes*
It was a tiring day for you since you did all the standing, changing and displaying for him.
But the night provided to be very rewarding hehe
If you know what I mean
;)
You know what I mean, why am I saying this.
Theodorus Van Gogh:
He has a similar behaviour to Arthur at first, indifferent behaviour but very curious eyes.
You can tell he doesn’t want to ask questions but wants the answers.
So you just start talking and explaining things.
He’s a little flushed because he would have told you to stop talking by now but he doesn’t since you’re informing him on everything.
Theo would keep visiting until you got tired and wouldn't hesitate to carry you back to your place and cuddle up on the couch.
Showing him how the TV works but he prefers sleeping in your bed because it’s so comfy and he can hug you.
Vincent Van Gogh:
“WOW!” *sparkly eyes*
Asks you about EVERYTHING
Holds your hand the whole time.
Also he apologises for always inquiring about everything.
Reassuring him that it’s alright.
Proceeds to go back to questioning everything.
Politely asks if you guys can go to an exhibition the next day to see paintings and saying yes.
Very gladly cuddling in your neck and saying how amazing everything is.
He’s too cute T-T
Vincent was smiling in his sleep because he got to discover so many new things with you and he couldn’t express how content he was.
Your heart is constantly melting as he acts like an overjoyed puppy.
He’s forever thankful to you and this will always be engraved in his memory.
Amadeus Mozart:
The pianist can’t physically hide his amazement.
“Can we go to an instrument store?”
Holds your hand tightly and keeps you close like he’s protecting you.
When in fact it should be the other way around given that you have lived your entire life in the modern day.
But you already knew that 🤦♀️
His eyes light up more than they already did when you enter an empty store and there are three or four pianos.
Mozart let his fingers caress the smooth surface, taking in all the details of the instruments.
He’s relieved that they didn’t change as significantly as everything else in the world.
Lowkey wants to buy all the pianos because he wants to try them.
A very confused boy at attire.
And blushing at how more ‘revealing’ they are.
He could get used to this.
Jean D’Arc:
He would be in silent shock, staying close to you and looking around in amazement.
Jean would be pretty shy about asking too many questions, not wanting to bother you.
Reassuring him that it was fine, similar to Vincent.
Jean was somehow more considerate about it, not wanting to bother you with his inquiries.
Whispering questions and trying so hard to try and make sense of things himself, sometimes it works, kind of!!
Like Napoleon, he’s relieved the world is happier and fairer.
It was a huge shock for him at first, everything was different, but he was fortunate enough to be with you.
Now he reminisces of the experience as a magical moment that will forever be engraved in his memory.
Isaac Newton:
Absolutely astonished.
He has so many questions but he didn’t know where to start.
Similar to Jean, he was a little shy about asking questions and trying to solve things on his own.
Being surprised at how complex things turn out to be.
Isaac has mixed emotions about knowing that the foundation of physics are his three famous laws.
Because the world seemed overwhelmingly unknown and huge, he nearly clung onto you.
You locked your arm with his, seeing his unease but also not wanting to trouble you.
He felt better instantly and silently thanked you, blushing in embarrassment.
The first thing you taught him was what a phone was and about the kindergarden/school system.
You reminisce about how he went along into town with Napoleon to attempt to teach children.
It wasn’t a particular detail he would have inquired about but he feels strangely relieved about it.
He was touched by the small details you remember about him and he keeps it in mind.
It was an unforgettable experience for him to have with you.
But something he does not want to let go is the bed, it’s shockingly comfortable for him.
Osamu Dazai:
“Wow, are you seeing this (Not Y/N)-chan?”
“That’s not my name-”
“What is this?”
No shame about asking whatsoever.
“Miraculous!”
A lot of him grinning and praising everything and anything, including you.
“You’re delightful (Y/N)-chan, such an interesting answer!”
“D-did you just call me by my nam-”
“Are you coming (Not Y/N)-chan?”
“Nevermind,” you grumble, pouting as you follow behind him.
He chuckled, finding you so cute before cupping your cheeks and openly kissing you in public.
Dazai finds even more amusement with how flushed you are for a while as you clung onto his arm, answering questions with a breathy tone.
Despite his second degree humour throughout everything, he’s actually thoroughly enjoyed spending time doing this with you and becoming a treasured memory.
William Shakespeare:
He was actually rendered speechless for a long while.
Which was unusual for him obviously.
But it was a little disconcerting for him since he always had something to say.
You couldn’t help but eye him admiring everything.
Despite his unnerving silence, the way his eyes lit up was something that you didn’t know you needed to witness.
It looked like he found something to look forward to in life. (can’t relate lol)
That thought alone made you hopeful and sad at the same time.
He was always very polite and considerate about inquiring about things.
As in, he always read the ‘room’ before asking, wanting to stay in your good graces, even though he is already in them.
Finding the bed in your place being painfully heaven-like.
If he wasn’t as invested in learning about the modern world, he would totally examine and savour the beauty that is a bed.
Without you knowing, however, he would spend a lot of time studying you as well.
It was fascinating to him, seeing you enjoying yourself in your natural habitat.
Sebastian:
I mean he lived there before so there isn’t much to say.
He does reminisce a lot though, all previous memories rushing back.
Just as if the residents were a long dream.
One thing that surprised him a little was that he enjoyed spending time with you in the modern day so much that it’s in a smal, different compartment in his brain altogether.
Basically nostalgia but also happy new memories.
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#ikemen vampire#ikemen vampire x reader#ikevamp#ikevamp x reader#Napoleon Bonaparte#napoleon bonaparte x reader#leonardo da vinci#leonardo da vinci x reader#comte de saint germain#comte de saint germain x reader#arthur conan doyle#arthur conan doyle x reader#theodorus van gogh#theodorus van gogh x reader#vincent van gogh#vincent van gogh x reader#william shakespeare#william shakespeare x reader#amadeus mozart#amadeus mozart x reader#jean d'arc#jean d'arc x reader#isaac newton#isaac newton x reader#osamu dazai#osamu dazai x reader#sebastian#sebastian x reader
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Metallo!Lena AU Pt 21
Lena anxiously peers into the steaming wok, inhaling deeply before deciding to add another dash of sauce. It's a stir fry she's made a hundred times before, but this time is different. This time, it has to be perfect.
Her heart skips a beat when she hears Kara's key in the lock. The door opens, and Kara steps inside with a wide grin on her face. "Hey! You're home early!"
Lena smiles with a nod. "Yes, and dinner's almost ready, so go get comfy."
With a little squeal of delight Kara bounces over a gives her a hug. "Thank you! I love your stir fry."
Let's just hope she doesn't screw it up. As Kara disappears into the bedroom, Lena takes the wok off the heat, erring on the side of caution before she ruined it by fussing with it half to death.
Lena picks at her portion while Kara nearly inhales her own, until Kara finally sets down her plate and reaches for Lena's hand.
"Hey. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Lena covers quickly. "Yes, of course."
"Because you don't look okay."
"Gee, thanks..."
Kara shoots her a look. "You know what I mean."
Relenting, Lena nods. "I know. You're right. I just, have something to ask you, and I'm nervous about it."
"You know you can ask me anything."
Lena does know. Now almost a year since her rescue, she and Kara have become friends to the point Lena doesn't think either of them had any secrets from the other. Even so, her belly flutters with anxiety.
"Right. Okay. So. You know I've been preparing the holiday fundraiser for L-Corp next week?"
Kara nods. "Of course."
"Well, I was wondering if... maybe you'd like to... come."
While Lena's worst nightmare is that she'll be turned down, the equally mortifying likelihood is that Kara will laugh at her nervousness. To her surprise, Kara does neither. She simply beams. "I'd love to!"
"Are you sure?" Lena rambles. "Because I'll have to say hello to everyone so I probably won't be able to stay with you the whole time, and I don't want you to be bored in a room full of people you don't know..."
"Lena," Kara interrupts gently. "I know you'll have things to do and people to do. But I'd love the opportunity to support you-- even if its to stand in a roomful of people I don't know."
Lena melts in a relieved grin. "Okay. Thank you."
Thank you???
What is she doing?
She makes it through the night, somehow, without digging herself deeper, and the next night. But even as she gets swept up in the preparations for the gala, Lena doesn't lose sight of the fact Kara said yes.
The night before the event, Lena warns Kara that she'll have to meet her at the party. "I'll be at the hotel all day, so I'll be getting ready there. But I'll send a car for you, if you want."
"Oh, I was planning on flying there," Kara replies.
Lena eyes her, quietly judging.
"I'm KIDDING. A ride would be appreciated. Thank you."
And so Lena has no idea what to expect when the event begins. At the start, she's so overwhelmed with the transition from prep to guests that its all she can do to keep her head on straight. It's not until almost an hour that she has a moment to catch her breath and wonder where Kara was. She casts her gaze around the room and-- there.
Lena's eyes find Kara like a magnet, standing by the string quartet with a glass in her hand. She looks long and graceful in a floor length gown of powder blue, with half of her hair pulled back with a jewel-studded clip.
As though sensing Lena's gaze, Kara turns towards her, and breaks into a dazzling smile. Lena takes a step forward, only to be intercepted by the mayor. Over his shoulder, Kara catches her eye, lifting her glass in silent understanding.
After the mayor it's the district attorney, and after the district attorney it's someone else, and so on, until it's hours later and Lena loses track of Kara entirely. She slips out into the lobby simply to catch her breath, but it's there she finds Kara, chatting amiably with the bellhop.
At the sight of Lena, Kara breaks off her conversation and heads straight for her. Lena meets her halfway, immediately stepping into the embrace Kara offers.
"The party is so amazing, Lena. And you look amazing."
Lena flushes at the compliment. She feels rather plain in her dark red dress next to Kara's stunning blue. The style is far more conservative than she'd usually wear-- a shallow boat neckline and diaphanous skirt to disguise the kryptonite and its mantle set in her ribs. But from Kara, the sentiment makes her feel as a beautiful as when she wore her plunging necklines and slinky bodices.
"Thank you, so do you. I'm-- glad you came. Even if I haven't exactly been a good host for you."
Kara shakes her head. "Nope! I got a hug, you've officially fulfilled all hostess duties."
Lena laughs, a sound echoed by a raucous round of laughter from inside the ballroom. It brings Lena back to her senses, and the impending sense of an assistant frantically looking for her. "The auction is about to start, so I should probably..."
"Go, be amazing. I'll be cheering you on."
Kara remains true to her word, cheering loudly when Lena is introduced to begin the bidding. To Lena's surprise, she even bids on a piece of art donated by the Sinclair Family Foundation. She's monstrously outbid, but Kara seems none the worse for losing out when their notifications blow up the following morning.
Someone had caught a picture of them hugging in the hotel lobby, and now the entire world seems to waiting on a razors edge to find out if Lena Luthor is dating reporter Kara Danvers.
Lena eyes Kara as she studies the picture carefully over coffee. Finally, she can't take the silence any longer. "I'm sorry, Kara, if I had known..."
Kara blinks up at her, dumbfounded. "What, the picture? Oh, I am definitely getting this framed."
previous / next
#metallo lena au#supercorp#the holiday party we should have had by now#pretty gowns and pretty girls#my fave
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New Developments
Part 7B
Summary: You can be cuddly and sweet when the unexpected happens
The stars twinkled in the clear dark sky, a giggle poured from you as you felt Bill’s goatee brush your knuckles when he gave them a kiss.
You slid him a look and smiled broadly. “That tickles, mister.”
He gave you an impish smile. “Can’t help myself. I was getting jealous of the night sky.”
You gently rolled over to his side of the roof. “You were getting jealous, huh?”
He nodded, smiling while still holding your hand.
You made a soft sound. “That was the best way to distract me.”
He chuckled. “I had hoped it would be.”
“Bill, kiss me.”
It was one of those moments you had read about or dare say daydreamed about; making out with your boyfriend underneath the stars.
Somehow you found yourself under him as he continued to kiss you. It was delightful. One of his hands slipped under your shirt, you arched against him and kissed him deeper. But then what happened next, made the two of you erupt into a fit of giggles.
He smiled down at you, breathless as he came to rest on his elbow beside you. “I suppose I better feed you, huh?”
You giggled. “I am so embarrassed.”
He bent down, slipped your shirt up ever so slightly and gave it a kiss. “I forgive it.”
You giggled and wiggled harder under his kiss. “Bill, oh my god!” You giggled harder.
He only smiled, “What?” Then placed two more kisses. “All right, where shall we go?”
******
There was this cute little café you had been eager to try. When you pulled up, you realized it was empty. Inwardly you were relieved but also upset that no one would see the two of you. You pushed the thought away because to be honest, you really wanted to show him off.
With your fingers interlaced not long after, you and Bill entered the café. You chose a cozy corner and sat next to each other.
“Isn’t this a hang out for the students?” Bill whispered as he leaned in close. Your hands rested on each other’s thighs.
“Yes. Are you worried more young ladies may find you attractive?” You gently teased.
“Your opinion is the only one that matters.”
You flushed. “Oh you.” And you kissed is cheek then.
*****
While waiting for your sandwiches and soup to show, the two of you got lost in him telling you his plans to visit his daughter for brunch this weekend. It made you sad to hear she was acting out. “You’ll get through to her. It can’t be easy just being around Barbara.”
He nodded. “I plan to tell her about the room I put together for her. I think at one point she was worried my new place was just going to be a bachelor’s pad.”
You pressed your lips together. “Barbara is like determined to make you look bad.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m the bad one because I needed to get out.” He sighed.
“Bill.” You squeezed his thigh and leaned in close. “You are an amazing person. You will be in a better place now, not only for yourself but for your daughter too.”
“You think so?”
You nodded. “Yes. You are already much happier.”
He leaned back and smiled at you. “Well, you do work miracles.”
You flushed harder. “Only because I want what’s best for you, for us.” You smiled.
For another time that night, you were drawn in and the two of you shared a kiss.
“Y/N, is that you?”
You both froze mid kiss, your eyes met. The time had come, it was finally time for you to introduce Bill as well yours. You pressed a soft kiss before pulling back. You swallowed, squeezing his hand under the table.
“Hi Vera.” You said brightly.
You watched your friend look from you to Bill and back again.
Taking her all in, you could see how she nervously moved the fingers of her one hand as something shifted in her eyes.
“Is this the one who you said has gotten your heart racing?” She finally asked.
You nodded, from the corner of your eyes you could see Bill look from her to you and back at her.
“Yup.”
A huge smile came over her face. “I knew one of these days you’d fall for one of those romantic types.” She stepped closer. “Are you Dr. Fordham?” She extended her hand.
He nodded and a gentle smile came over his face. “You can call me Bill.” He took her hand and shook it.
“Nice to meet you, Bill.” She looked back at you. “Byron or one of the Brontes?”
“Byron.”
She giggled behind the hand she had just shook Bill’s hand with. “I knew it. May I join the two of you?”
You looked at each other and shared a brief nod.
“Great!” Then she turned to Bill. “My girl Y/N here is a real softy despite having her main focus in History. So you be good with her heart, all right?”
Bill chuckled. “I plan on it. She had been doing good by mine.”
“Good. Because just so you know, I am pre-med.”
“Vera.” You rolled your eyes.
She hooted with laughter. “Look you don’t have any older brothers, someone has to tell him they are keeping an eye on him.” She laughed again.
You leaned in close to Bill but spoke loud enough so she could hear you. “She thinks since she is one year older than me, she can be like a big older sister.”
“But I am.” She grins.
Bill smiled. “Well in all fairness, we all need that one friend who keeps an eye on things.” He looked over at Vera warmly.
You rolled your eyes but giggled. “I am in for it now.”
Then all of you laughed.
@thebeckyjolene @blondekel77 @mrskenobi19 @reiaux
#femi!reader#ewan mcgregor#ewan mcgregor imagine#ewan mcgregor fluff#bill fordham#bill fordham fluff#bill fordham x y/n#bill fordham x reader#bill fordham x you#august osage county fanfiction#august osage county#part 7b#new beginnings
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Just A Friend
AO3
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Thanks for all the support.
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta
I’m on holiday next week so the next chapter may be slightly delayed, but for now here’s...
Chapter 9: From Siblings to Safety Net
Jamie leads the way through the car park. I tread gingerly, the combination of unaccustomed high heels and uneven ground—a potentially lethal combination. He turns and notices my dilemma.
“Here,” he holds out his arm for me. I smile and gratefully take hold of his forearm until we reach the comparative safety of the marquee.
Once inside, Jamie pauses and looks around, trying to find his sister. I look around too, not that I know what his sister looks like, but I’m assuming, based on her brother, that she’ll be pretty easy to spot in the crowd.
The room is full with a steady stream of people moving swiftly towards the bar and rather less swiftly back to their tables carefully balancing bottles and glasses. I spot, through a break in the procession, Rupert sitting at a table talking to a petite brunette, who I assume is his wife Morag.
“Look,” I nudge Jamie and point towards the table. “It’s Rupert and—“
“Aye, so it is.” And he deftly negotiates our way through the maze of alcohol carrying individuals to the table.
Rupert and his wife stand up as we approach and he greets us enthusiastically, patting Jamie on the back and kissing my cheek.
“Nice tae see ye again,” he says, smiling.
“Good to see you too, Rupert.”
Jamie envelopes Morag in a huge bear hug. Is this the usual greeting for Rupert’s wife? I glance at Rupert but he’s totally unperturbed by this display of affection.
Eventually, Jamie stands up straight. “Claire, I’d like ye tae meet ma sister, Jenny. Jenny, this is ma friend, Claire.”
The intimate bear hug makes more sense now to me.
Jenny holds out her hand.“Nice tae meet ye Claire.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“And you too, Jenny. Jamie has told me so much about you and your family. And those photos that you took, wow, they’re amazing.” I can hear myself talking over enthusiastically and force myself to shut up. It’s a habit I have when I’m nervous.
Physically, Jamie and Jenny couldn’t be less alike. With his curly red hair and tall stature, Jamie is some sort of Viking throwback, whereas Jenny’s straight brunette locks and petite, delicate features give her a fragile, almost doll-like quality. I feel like an Amazon standing next to her. As she continues to talk to her brother, berating him for his last minute appearance, I rack my brains. She reminds me of someone, but I can’t for the life of me think who.
Then it dawns on me. When I was a junior doctor working in Trauma and Orthopaedics, the matron there was a brunette too, whose air of fragility belied a rock hard will and determination. Her wards were run with military precision and, without ever raising her voice, it was clear that her command was absolute. She never shouted, she never belittled, but somehow everyone, even the consultants, knew exactly who was in charge. I get exactly the same feeling with Jenny.
A noise behind me rouses me from my contemplation and a large tray of drinks is placed on the table.
“Ian, man, did ye get me a drink?” Jamie laughs.
“But of course, and,” Ian turns to me. “I presume ye’re Claire. I took the liberty and got ye a gin and tonic—double, jes’ in case that was yer tipple. But it’s nae bother if ye dinna want it. I can go and get ye something else. I’m sure I can think of someone who will drink it.” He nods his head towards his wife and mimics drinking with his hand
“Cheek of the man.” Jenny playfully slaps his hand down and smiles. This time the smile lights up her whole face.
“No, gin and tonic is great, thanks very much,” I accept the glass gratefully and take a sip. Well, maybe a little bit more than a sip, but it is much needed.
“Seeing as yer man there canna be bothered wi’ the introductions, I’ll have tae do it maself. I’m Ian, Jenny’s husband and it’s a pleasure tae meet ye,” His introduction is full of real warmth.
“I was jes’ getting ‘round tae it,” Jamie says mock defensively and grabs a pint from the tray. “Anyhow, sláinte, everyone. Here’s tae a good night.”
**********
During dinner, I sit between Ian and Jamie who has Jenny on his other side. Ian is an absolute delight. He listens to my stories with genuine interest, laughing in all the right places and regaling Morag and me with tales of his son’s antics (‘Wee Jamie, jes’ as mischievous as his uncle ever was’).
Once dinner is over, Jamie and Ian spot an acquaintance on another table and excuse themselves. Jenny shuffles over onto Jamie’s newly vacated chair.
“Havin’ a good time are ye, Claire?”
“Oh yes, thank you. Ian has been telling us about your children. They sound like real characters. Just adorable.” And here I am, back to my nervous over enthusiasm. Just like that matron years ago, Jenny has the ability to do this to me.
Jenny gives a tight little smile that doesn’t linger. “Can I be honest wi’ ye Claire?”
My heart sinks. When someone says that, it’s never good. I mean, they never follow that statement with ‘your hair looks lovely’ or ‘the way you handled that developmental dysplasia of the hip was excellent.’ It’s always a criticism. Although I’m not too sure what I’ve done for Jenny to feel the need for such honesty, but I’m guessing it involves Jamie in some way.
“I ken Jamie invited ye tae come tonight as friends, before he met Kelly,” she continues. “But could ye no’ have stood aside and let him bring her as a date? He said he’d already asked ye when I mentioned it to him. But if ye’re just friends ye could have.”
I don’t know what to say. What can I say that doesn’t cast Jamie in a bad light with his sister? Jenny clearly wants there to be something between him and Kelly, which, based on what Jamie’s told me, just isn’t going to happen, no matter how much Jenny pushes. And I’m somewhere in the middle of this.
Jenny looks at me and I don’t think I have to speak. My glass face is doing the work for me. “Ah, I see.”
I spy Jamie making his way back to our table. He hesitates slightly as Jenny’s steely gaze falls on him, before continuing.
Jenny shuffles back to her chair, and pats the now vacant seat between us. He sits down and glances at us both.
“Have ye got something tae tell me, bràthair?” Jenny begins.
“About what?”
“About why ye told me ye’d already asked Claire when I mentioned asking Kelly?”
Jamie turns to me, as Jenny carries on talking. “Claire didna say a word about it. She didna have tae.”
I smile apologetically at him, but say nothing and take a swig of wine. This is between Jamie and Jenny. I’m keeping well out of this.
He sighs. “Jenny, ye wouldna let it lie. Ye kept telling me I should invite Kelly. On and on ye were. I had tae do it.”
“Ye said the date wi’ Kelly was good.”
“If ye think back, what I actually said was that the food at the restaurant was good. I didna say the date was good. That wasna good. We had a nice meal, then we shook hands and said goodbye. I made no promises tae see her again.”
“But Kelly—“
“Jenny, it isna going tae happen no matter how much ye mither. Ye dinna always ken what’s best fer me even though ye think ye do.”
I feel a hand on my arm and turn to find Ian sitting next to me once more. He jerks his head towards Jamie and Jenny. “I find it easier tae jes’ let them get on wi’ it themselves. This is what they’re like, wi’ the bickering. They’ll sort it out, they always do. That’s brothers and sisters fer ye.”
That familiar pang hits me for a brief moment. Of course, I don’t know what it’s like, this familial bickering or teasing, safe in the knowledge that you’ll always have their love. And then it passes.
“I suppose you’re used to it by now?”
“After twenty five years, I guess so. They were jes’ the same as children. See?” Ian points to my other side. I turn to find Jenny tenderly patting Jamie’s hand.
“Sae, Claire,” Jenny leans across Jamie to talk to me. “I see ye’re still drinking that horse piss. What say we send Jamie tae get us all some real drinks? I take it ye like whisky?”
Jenny smiles, and this time it’s genuine.
************
After that brief sibling squabble has been sorted, the evening can only get better… I think. Actually, it does improve. The combination of good whisky and a friendlier Jenny, and I begin to really enjoy myself.
The disco has started and the dance floor is filling up, mainly with groups of women while the men sit on the sidelines only venturing up once copious amounts of alcohol have been consumed and the DJ starts to play the classics— ‘YMCA’, ‘Night Fever’ and ‘Dancing Queen’.
We stay at our table, chatting, our voices becoming louder as the dance floor fills and the dancers begin to sing along to some of the songs. The singing rises to a crescendo for the choruses then rapidly quietening at the lesser known verse lyrics.
“D’ye no’ want tae dance? Jamie asks, a bit reluctantly, it seems.
“No, I’m enjoying myself here,” I reply and watch the relieved expression appear on his face.
“Unless, of course, you do,” I add teasingly.
“It’s no’ really ma thing. I’m no’ much of a dancer. Rupert and Morag enjoy it though.”
We watch for a moment as Rupert tries out some John Travolta moves. I pick up my glass and notice that it’s empty. That seems to be happening a lot tonight.
“I’ll go and get some more drinks,” I announce to the table.
“Let me,” Ian jumps in.
“No, you’ve bought more than enough. I’ll get these. Same again?”
Everyone nods and passes me their empty glasses. Jamie makes to get up, but I shake my head. “I’ve got this. Relax.”
I weave my way through the tables and lean at the end of the bar, money in hand waiting to catch the eye of one of the bartenders. Judging by the size of some of the orders being placed, I resign myself to being stuck here for some time.
A man squeezes next to me, mirroring my position— elbows on the bar, ten pound note in hand. “Snap!” He laughs. “D’ye think we’ll be served before last orders?”
I smile politely and shake my head, all while trying to breathe through my mouth. Even at this stage of the evening, his aftershave is overpowering, applied with all the finesse of a fifteen year old boy. I try to edge away from him a bit, although I do risk disappearing from the bartenders’ line of sight. He shifts a little closer to me which makes me a bit uncomfortable. It might be perfectly innocent, he might just be moving to try and get served quicker. I don’t really want to challenge him if all he’s trying to do is catch the bartender’s eye.
“I’ve no’ seen ye ‘round the club afore,” I catch him glancing at my ringless left hand. “Are ye here with friends or…?”
“Friends.” I mumble, trying to make it clear I don’t want to start a conversation and I turn my head away from him.
I feel a slight touch on the skin of my upper arm. Whether deliberate or accidental, that combined with his closeness, makes me feel even more uneasy .Instinctively I take a step back and my heel lands on someone’s foot.
A familiar voice whispers in my ear. “Oof, Sassenach, yer shoes are lethal,” and an arm snakes over my shoulder, pulling me towards his body.
In a louder voice, clearly aimed at the pest next to me, Jamie continues. “Ach, love, thanks for saving ma place at the bar. Tell ye what, sweetheart, now I’m here ye can go and sit down and I’ll get the drinks.”
He gives me a slight peck as I smile at him gratefully and make a quick exit. Walking back to the table, I can still feel the roughness of his stubble against my cheek. I stop myself reaching up to touch my face, and shove my hand into my pocket instead.
I sit down next to Jenny. “Jamie’s getting the drinks in.”
“Aye, he thought ye needed tae be rescued from that wee dickhead at the bar.”
“Yes, a timely intervention. Your brother’s a good pal.”
“Aye, he says ye’re good friends.” Jenny stares at me, as if searching for something deeper that I’m hiding.
“Yes, that’s it. Good friends.” I answer, confident that my face will tell the same story.
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To Be Continued - Part 5
Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead
Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)
Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy
Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>
Word count: 2174
Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue
Somehow you had fallen asleep.
You didn’t quite remember when or how, but when you fluttered your eyes open, the sun was casting a warm light across your body. You felt entirely content, and as you stretched out your arms, you found no niggling thoughts or remnants of your cold.
Had it all been a dream?
Searching around yourself for any obvious signs, you slowly rose to your feet, scooting them into your slippers and wrapped your robe around yourself. Padding down to the kitchen calling out Binks’ name, you stopped when you realised your cat was already preoccupied.
With Brian.
You didn’t know what shocked you more. That it hadn’t been a dream after all, or that your cat – who normally went into hiding at the first sign of a male entering your home – was allowing Brian to scratch under his chin affectionately. The loud purr only indicated Binks’ absolute delight by the gesture, and you scoffed loudly, giving both men the notice of your arrival.
“Seems like you’ve made yourself at home,” you pointed out as you rounded the pair to head for the jug to brew some coffee. You blinked when Brian handed you an already prepared mug, still warm to the touch.
He smiled gently. “I was going to make you breakfast but you’ve beaten me to it.”
“You don’t have to make me anything,” you mentioned, a light cough rising in the back of your throat at the thoughtful offer.
You strangely felt wary of relying on Brian already. After his help from not letting you fall face-first to the ground last night, you were a little shaken up by how easily you wanted to enjoy your time around him. If you allowed your mind to wander, the idea of having breakfast together would become your new favourite thing.
You hoped to god he wouldn’t go into any domestic chores in front of you or it would be incredibly hard to rein in your desires.
Staring at the man, you eventually smiled. “Do you feel okay?”
“Fine. Why?”
“Maybe I should take you to see a doctor? Get you checked out, you know, make sure you’re really here,” you murmured and Brian’s concern soon erased, a smirk adorning his perfectly shaped lips. Ah, if you truly had created this specimen, you had done the best work of your life.
Brian was breathtaking. Perhaps you needed to go get your heart checked out too with how fast it started to beat.
“I’ll go if you want me to.”
“You will?”
Brian nodded as he continued to pet Binks. The feline seemed more than appreciative of your new house guest, winding himself back and forth against Brian’s outstretched hand. Finally, Brian glanced up at you, his eyes bright with joy.
You almost dropped the cup in your hand then. Grappling for it, and thanking yourself silently for draining the coffee before such a moment could occur, you laughed lightly. “Ha. So clumsy!”
“So I can tell. Are you normally like this, or is it just in my presence?”
“Are you generally this straight-forward?” you shot back and Brian cocked his head to the side, knowing full well that you should too know the answer to this question. “Right. Of course. It’s one of your charms.”
“Am I charming you, Miss Writer?”
“Okay! Time for me to get dressed and book you a doctor’s appointment. Maybe a joint one. I’ll need to uh, just check my own sanity out whilst I’m there.”
“Are general practitioners able to do all that in one visit?” Brian teased and you huffed at him before dashing down the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind you and raising your hand to your chest to capture your beating heart.
You willed it to slow down but it seemed out of your control.
“Just like the world and characters I’ve created,” you whispered, glancing at your door and biting at the bottom of your lip as a million thoughts raced through your head.
You were surprisingly relieved that your doctor could see Brian as well. You had half-wondered on your drive over to the clinic if he was simply your imagination. You had often heard about writers having muses that seemingly became like imaginary friends to them over the years. Since you considered yourself a newbie author, you were certain it would take many more years before your muse stepped out from one of your novels like that.
And you certainly hadn’t expected Brian to become this real, if he were your muse.
So to hear Doctor Pritchard greet Brian and see her shake his hand – a little too long for your liking, admittedly – did ease some of your concerns about your well-being.
And solidified Brian’s existence further.
“So you want to get your friend here a general check-up?” the doctor enquired, and you nodded your head eagerly.
“Check him all over. Make sure he’s as perfect as I made – as nature created him to be,” you said with a little laugh, Brian’s lips curling up at your almost mishap.
“Well, I’m sure from what I see, there will be no problems along the way,” the doctor expressed, again concerning you with how her eyes lingered. Realising her unprofessional conduct suddenly, she cleared her throat and began her examination.
You realised you should have waited outside for this. It was all very straight-forward in the beginning. She checked his vision and hearing before looking into the back of this throat. And then she suggested he unbutton his shirt a little so she could listen to his heart. Brian didn’t hesitate, fingers nimbly popping open a few buttons. Even you heard the way the doctor gulped before putting the stethoscope into her ears and placed the other end upon his chest.
Brian shot you a small inquisitive look then, and you darted your gaze to the heavens, wondering why you were testing yourself like this. Keeping them there for the remainder of the examination, you waited for the results to garner your attention.
“Well Brian, aside from the old scars I noticed on your body, you’re in fine form. A wonderful state of health. We’ll need to get a blood test from you but other than that, I’m signing you off as perfect.”
“Really doctor, thank you,” Brian mentioned, oozing his charms so effortlessly. He seemed satisfied by the stumped look upon both yours and the doctor’s faces and got up to follow the nurse who had come in to take him off to get his bloods taken.
And then Doctor Pritchard leaned over her desk towards you. “Where did you find him?!”
“Long story,” you mentioned, realising just how ironic that statement was. Rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly, you then mirrored her action and leaned forward towards her. “So he’s fine?”
“More than fine.”
“I mean, as a person.”
Doctor Pritchard nodded. “He’s healthy, Y/N. You, however, look rough.”
“I had a cold. He helped me get over it.”
“I bet he did,” she mentioned with a sly smile and you gasped at her reaction. She grinned back at you. “What? I struggled! Next time you plan on bringing someone as gorgeous as Brian into my office, warn me first! I didn’t go to medical school for all those years to find myself drooling over a patient. It’s so unprofessional of me!”
“Imagine my surprise when I first--” You stopped, smiling at the doctor who seemed to understand despite not telling her the full story. You weren’t sure how to explain Brian’s existence to anyone yet.
“If you don’t snap him up as your own, Y/N, you’re a fool.”
“Oh, believe me, he’s mine. He’s definitely mine,” you told her, taking the script she had given you to help combat your low immunity before heading for the door.
You didn’t know what you were going to do with Brian now.
“Do you want to go back anytime soon?” you asked Brian later that evening, the man marvelling the crook of his elbow where the nurse had taken blood from him. Leaning closer, you winced when you saw the small bruise rising upon his skin. “That looks painful.”
“She seemed to struggle, much like the doctor did.”
“Does it please you, having so many people fawn over you like this?”
Brian shook his head, though there was a small smile that played upon his lips as he did so. You rolled your eyes in response, and Brian chuckled. “In my world, everyone’s looking at Charli or Devon as beautiful and handsome. Not me.”
“Devon is your rival, so of course he’s seen as successful. Whilst the reader is meant to find you more amazing, just as Charli does.”
“Like you do too.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll admit it. You’re handsome. I made you that way because-”
“Because?” Brian asked, scooting in closer. You stopped breathing, or at least, it felt like you weren’t getting enough air with the way he was intensely awaiting your answer.
Blinking rapidly, you looked back at the TV you had aimlessly turned on. You didn’t watch TV all that often, far too engrossed in the worlds you created.
Yet, you hoped right now it could save you from having to answer him.
“Miss Writer,” Brian prompted, and you groaned.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you then?” he almost purred, and you leapt up from the couch, heading over to the kitchen to find something to do. You cursed under your breath when Brian followed you, reaching out for the breakfast dishes he had cleaned earlier to put away.
“Just call me by my name.”
“Y/N,” he said, and you hissed, shaking your head. Brian laughed. “What, that is your name!”
“But it feels too… intimate the way you said it.”
“How I said it?” he repeated and you nodded once, not daring to look in his direction. The air around you felt smug, however, and you knew he was pleased again.
The sheer amount of validation you were given him as a person would have been building him up easily. You knew it was one of his insecurities and without realising it, you were paying enough attention to him, much like Charli had begun to do so too.
You wondered if Brian was blurring lines within his own mind now about what you meant to him.
“Why are you here?” you asked softly and Brian’s humour softened, his dark eyes searching yours momentarily.
“I wanted to find out more about you.”
“But why? When you have Charli to concern yourself with?”
“You’re more interesting to me than her,” he whispered, blinking a couple of times when he realised what he had said. Trying to brush it off with a smile, Brian reached out for a bowl but your hand grabbed onto his wrist and stopped him from putting it away.
“Why?”
“You have a lot of questions about me today, Miss Writer.”
“I’m trying to understand how the man I created as my biggest self-indulgence for a character is somehow standing before me right now. I need to figure out how to accept or deny you in my world for my own sanity. I created you because you were missing from my world and now you’re here I…”
Brian placed down the bowl again and turned to face you, seeking out your lowered gaze. Hooking a finger under your chin to lift it back up to him, he smiled gently. “Now I’m here?”
“I’m worried I won’t want you to go.”
“Well, I don’t plan on going anywhere soon,” he told you firmly, nodding to emphasise it also. “I want to stay here in this world with you.”
“How is it possible though?” you breathed, and Brian shook his head.
“I’m not sure, but can’t we just focus on the fact that you see me and I see you, and this is what we both want?”
“You want to see me?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said you’re more interesting to me.”
You got caught in the moment. Brian’s thumb gently caressed your chin as he held your gaze fondly, searching for his own reason to like you. However, you were long gone. You had created Brian, poured so much love and attention into him that having him stare like this at you made you disregard everything.
Much as last night, you were uncaring of where he came from, or who he was meant to be with. Right now, you wanted to be the only person he ever looked at like this again. He made you feel special, as if you were carved out of the same stone of life and meant to be for one another.
You couldn’t tell who moved in first, whether it was you or Brian, but the angle he now held your jaw at was much closer to his face, ready for his lips to make an impact.
And just as you were certain that he was about to kiss you, the front doorbell rang.
_________________
Part 6
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He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not, He Loves Me?
A/N: What’s up? Here I am, due to popular demand, with a part two to this angsty little thing I wrote. I hope you enjoy ;)
If you haven’t read the first part, I highly recommend that you do. This is a direct sequel to the events that happen in the last part
Also, perhaps I’ll write one last thing for this little fic in the future, you know, for fun
Edit: So... fifth times a charm, right? If this doesn’t show up in the tags again, I swear I’m quitting
Summary: After a long night filled with your quiet sobs and Shouto’s soft snores, you come to the conclusion that you’re a bad bitch who doesn’t need someone to love them in order to love yourself. However, when you try to distance yourself, Shouto finally reaches his answer to his on-going self doubt and love for you
Words: 3,138
It was around seven in the morning when you had woken up. As you sat up, you could feel a sharp pain rush to your head, causing you to groan. Pressing a hand to your forehead, you found yourself sighing at the slight relief you gained, though it wasn’t for long. Soon enough you could feel just how heavy your limbs were, and how difficult it was to just keep your hand up. Rubbing your face, you stood up, heading towards the kitchen, in hopes that a glass of water would help you to relieve your aching body.
As you stepped into the living room, you could hear the faint sound of snoring. Creeping slowly, you found Shouto curled up on the couch, the pillow doing almost nothing to stop the snores from emanating from the man. Squatting down, you went to run your fingers through his hair, before you froze. Remembering what he had admitted last night, your loving caress was about to turn into a sharp slap in the face if it weren’t for the fact that you were so whipped for him. Yanking your hand away as if you’d been burned, you stood back up, storming towards the kitchen, loudly opening your cabinets and grabbing a glass and filling it with water. While your plan had been to just walk away, to head back to your room, and lie to him when he inevitably woke up and asked why you were locked up in your room, something overcame you as you once again paused by the couch. Looking down at him, you weren’t sure what feeling stood out more: betrayal or anger. You felt betrayed at the fact that he wasn’t even sure if he loved you, at the fact that he thought he was using you in order to get back at his father. You also felt angry at the fact that, if that were the case, and he was just using you, then he had been leading you on for an entire year, letting you believe that he actually cared for you, that he actually loved you.
So, no one could truly blame you when you tipped your cup upside down, spilling the ice cold water onto the back of his head.
Jolting up, Shouto gasped for air as his eyes ripped open. Blinking a few times, most likely to get the water away from his eyes, he stared up at you, a look of confusion gracing his features.
“(Y/N), what—“
“Sorry, I thought your quirk would freeze it before it reached you. Though, I guess I just don’t know anything about quirks, because, well,” You pointed towards yourself, a hollow smile on your lips, “Quirkless.”
He furrowed his brows, this time moving to sit up straight. Reaching out to grab one of your hands, he frowned. “What are you talking about—“
“You know, we should really go and visit your father sometime, Sho. I bet he’ll be thrilled to hear how you completely dismantled his dreams of having a powerful grandchild.”
A flash of shock crossed his face, but it was nothing compared to the look of realization he had when you ripped your hand away from his his, curling in on yourself. He stood up, moving to hold you tight, but you were quicker. Side stepping his advances, you put on your best smile, letting out a fake gasp.
“Oh, that’s wonderful! You can move,” Pointing towards the door, your features turned from your happy go lucky persona to a deep scowl, “Now, get out.”
“(Y/N), I didn’t mean—“ He tried once more, but you wanted nothing more than for him to leave you be.
“(Y/L/N),” You started, your hand still pointed towards the door, “You don’t get to call me that anymore. Now leave, go sort out your daddy issues and leave me alone.”
You knew that you were being harsh, and to boil down his mixed feelings over his father as simple “daddy issues” was more than factually incorrect, but you couldn’t bother to care at this point.
When he moved to gain your attention once more, you snapped your neck towards him, your eyes almost glowing with the amount of anger that you contained. “There is absolutely nothing that you can say to me that’ll fix what you did. So, instead of trying to force yourself to love me, and lead me on for God knows how long, why don’t you just leave?”
You didn’t even bother listening to what he had to say, as you shoved him out of your living room and out of your door, slamming it in his face. As you heard his footsteps slowly retreating, you couldn’t help the loud sob that ripped itself from your throat. Slamming your hands onto your mouth, you made desperate attempts to stop the vulnerable sounds from coming out of your mouth, but it didn’t work. So, as you continued to sob, you couldn’t help but crumple to the ground, suddenly too weak to hold yourself up any longer.
You hated feeling like this, feeling as though you were broken. It reminded you too much of your younger self, when you questioned why you had to be one of the unlucky few children to be born without a quirk. When you were mercilessly taunted by others due to your quirkless state. Or when you had realized that your dream of becoming a hero, of being able to save people and put smiles on their faces, was practically crushed before your eyes. You hated that you felt weak, that you were weak. It made you even angrier at the fact that you were crying over some guy, his social status be damned.
So, you allowed yourself to wallow in self pity for a few more minutes, no longer bothering to hold back your sobs, before you forced yourself to stand. Wiping the leftover tears from your face, you took in a deep breath, and willed yourself to calm down. After all, it would do no one any good if you just sat on the floor crying. You allowed yourself to feel hurt, to feel sorrow at your first real relationship ending, but you refused to let yourself get consumed by grief.
Smacking your cheeks lightly, you headed for your room, moving to get dressed for the day. Though, as soon as you took a step, the throbbing pain to your head had returned. All of your adrenaline had left your system, and now you were left with the mess that was your hangover. So, changing courses slightly, you headed over to your medicine cabinet, pushing things aside to find some ibuprofen.
First, you’d take care of your pounding headache. Then, you’d start your life over, without Shouto.
At least, that’s what you were trying to do.
It had only been a month since you had broken up with Shouto, and it was easily one of the worst months of your life. Not because you were desperate to get back together with him, but because somehow, you had managed to run into him everywhere you went, whether it be figuratively or literally.
If you were off running an errand, going to buy some fresh produce that you needed, you would be stopped by the crowd of thousands who gathered in the square to watch the number three hero fight along side the number one and two. As you walked through your grocery store, all you could hear about was how amazing Shouto was, and how whoever his partner was was lucky to have him.
You wanted to throw up.
There was also another time when you were out for a jog, just wanting to clear your mind as work as piling up. As you were running by some little kids, you noticed one of them was holding their notebook tightly to their chest as the others seemed to be in awe. Jogging closer, you managed to hear bits and pieces of their conversation, with the kid squealing in delight at the fact that Pro Hero Shouto just gave them an autograph. It made you pause in your tracks, and, looking from side to side, you saw someone who looked suspiciously like your ex. He seemed to have noticed you too, as he made his way towards you.
Before he could even reach out, you were running in the opposite direction, figuring that you had enough exercise for the day.
However, one of the worst run ins you had was while you were just sitting on your couch, watching some late night talk show while eating straight out of an ice cream carton.
You were simply minding your own business, not bothering anyone, when the host introduced their next host: your goddamn ex-boyfriend.
As soon as his name was announced you nearly choked on your ice cream. While you wanted to just change the channel, maybe put on a wholesome baking show to relax to, your fingers froze when you saw him enter the set and take a seat down on the plush couch. Even though it had only been a month or so since you shoved him out of your life, he looked much different. Though, as you continued to watch, you came to the realization that he looked different because his hair was actually pushed out of his face, unlike his usual mop of bangs hiding his forehead. It bothered you how you still thought he was handsome, but you couldn’t deny it.
The entire interview was pretty standard, with the host asking him about his career as a hero, any advice he’d give aspiring heroes, how he felt about Twitter accounts that were dedicated to him. You know, all of the usual topics.
However, one question had caught your wavering attention:
“So,” The host asked, a wide grin appearing on their face as they leaned in, “How’s the love life of a pro hero?”
Shouto shifted in his seat, and it was obvious that he was uncomfortable. He did answer the question, though, and you sat up straighter, wanting to hear his answer.
“Ah, I’m sure that can’t be too interesting to hear about,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Oh please! I’m sure we’d all like to hear if there’s a special someone, right?” The host egged on, gaining the cheers of the audience.
He tilted his head, almost as if weighing the outcome of whether or not he said something. Finally coming to a decision, he cleared his throat, and you could’ve sworn that you saw a blush rising to his cheeks.
“Well, there is this one person,” He started, and as the host ushered for him to go on, he continued, “She’s one of the best people that I’ve ever met. She’s kind and compassionate, and always puts the needs of others above her own,”
He laughs lightly as he says the next part, but you can tell that there’s a bit of sadness with it, “But she never lets herself become a doorstep for others. She knows when to put her foot down and when to stand her ground,”
“You seem to know a lot about that last part,” The host said, clearly attempting to get a rise out of him.
It didn’t work, mainly because Todoroki Shouto was just so painfully honest when it came to how he felt, almost to the point where it became a bit concerning. “Yeah, you could say that I’ve made some mistakes,”
You found yourself furrowing your brow, confused at the whole mess that was appearing right on your screen. It didn’t help that you knew that asshole was talking about you, and he was saying everything you wanted him to say.
Not wanting to hear the rest of what he had to say, you went for the remote once more, but were once again stopped by the hosts’ next question:
“Well, do you love this girl?” The host questioned, milking this subject for all it was worth, “I mean, you practically just announced your feelings for her on national television,”
You felt your heart freeze in your chest as Shouto smiled, and nodded his head. “I really do. I didn’t get to tell her that, but I love her.”
In all honesty, you wanted to chuck your remote into the screen as hard as you could, but then you knew that you’d just have to pay for a new one, and you really didn’t want to spend money on your fit of rage. So, as the program had gone to a commercial break, you slammed down your ice cream carton and picked up your phone, calling someone that you hadn’t bothered with for a while.
It took a few rings before the person on the other line answered: “Hello?”
“What the hell was that?” You hissed, not bothering with any pleasantries.
There was a brief pause, and you almost thought that he’d just walked away before he cleared his throat awkwardly, “You saw the interview?”
“No, Todoroki, I just decided to call you up to yell at you because I felt like it— of course I saw the interview!”
“It’s Shouto,”
You ignored him, continuing on with your rant. “Did you really think that announcing indirectly that you love me was going to fix anything? What was your goal with that?”
“I didn’t know where the questions were going, I just thought I should just answer them honestly,”
You scoffed, and though you couldn’t see him, you could tell that he was frowning, “Oh, so you can say that you love me in front of the nation but you couldn’t tell me if you loved me a month ago?”
“That’s different,” He argued, but you were having none of it.
“It’s not different, Todoroki! A month ago you were telling me that you weren’t even sure if you loved me, or if you were just using me to get back at your dad! For a whole year, you couldn’t figure out if you loved me or not. Now, all of a sudden you’re trying to tell me that you finally figured it out?”
The silence at the other end of the line gave you your answer. Sighing, you did your best to keep your tears at bay, but after a month of denying yourself the opportunity to feel upset, the dams were starting to open up once more.
“Do you know how hard it was for me to hear that? How, on our anniversary, you decided to let me know that you may have been with me for the wrong reasons? It fucking hurt, you know that right?”
You cringed at how weak your voice sounded, but you were thankful that you could express your feelings at all, with all of the turbulent emotions swirling in your heart.
“(Y/N)—“ He interrupted himself, starting over, “(Y/L/N), I want you to know that I’m sorry. I know that there’s nothing I can say to change what happened. I can’t pretend that what I said that night didn’t happen, and I can’t pretend that what I say was entirely untrue. I’m sorry that it took you getting hurt and leaving that I finally realized just how important you are to me.
You aren’t someone I used to get back at my father. I didn’t seek you out to make him mad, nor did I change my plans when I found out you were quirkless. When we started getting closer, and time went on, I started getting worried that I may have been using you, because not only did it seem like that to my friends, but because I didn’t want to hurt you either.”
You allowed for his words to sink in, digesting everything that he had to say. Sniffling, you wiped away some stray tears that had fallen past your cheeks. “That’s a dumb excuse,”
“I know, but it’s the only reasoning I have,” He said, and you could’ve sworn that you heard a bit of desperation in his voice.
“That was a shit move you pulled, saying you loved me on TV,” You stated, your frown still present on your face, “I would have rather you told me that in person.”
“Would you have let me?”
When you didn’t respond, he spoke once more: “Would you let me tell you now?”
You played with the hem of your shirt, honestly wanting to be anywhere but in this conversation. “I don’t know.”
Your answer didn’t seem to deter him, as his tone changed from one of sorrow to one of hope.
“Well, would it be alright if,” He paused, unsure of how you’d respond, “If I tried to prove myself to you?”
“Prove yourself?”
He let out a noise of agreement. “Prove to you that I’m not lying when I say that I’m in love with you. I won’t force you to do anything, and if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop.”
After a beat of silence, he quietly added, “If you don’t want this, I’ll leave you alone, and we can go back to avoiding each other,”
You took in a deep breath, before letting out a long sigh. As much as you tried to keep your feelings stowed away, you couldn’t lie to yourself. You still loved him, and you wanted nothing more than to just accept you right away, to just start off where the two of you left off. However, the rational part of your brain was telling you to slow down, that, even if you wanted this to happen, you couldn’t just forget what he said that night.
So, you finally reached your answer.
“Don’t expect me to go easy on you,” You warned, your heart beating wildly, “I won’t say anything if you want to try, but I’m not going to just run back to you because of this.”
You wanted to laugh at the sigh of relief that came through the other side, along with a quiet “of course.” Glancing over at your clock, you noted that it was probably time for you to actually get some sleep. Stretching a bit, you got up, getting ready to sleep away your worries for the next handful of hours before your shift.
“I’m going now, goodnight, Todoroki.”
Though you couldn’t see him, you could feel a warmth shooting through your body as he huffed out a laugh.
“Goodnight, (Y/L/N),”
Hanging up the phone, you watched as the call screen faded, and you were returned to his contact information. A small smile tugged at your lips, and as you put your phone away, cleaning up the mess that was in front of you, you couldn’t help but wish him luck.
Though, you weren’t quite sure if he was going to need it.
#todoroki shouto#todoroki x reader#todoroki shouto x reader#todoroki shoto x reader#shoto todoroki#bnha#mha#bnha imagines#mha imagines#bnha x reader#mha x reader#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#if this doesn't work i think I'm gonna cry
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Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Shu Sakamaki (Story 13)
In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too!
Monologue
A true state of emergency has come over us. Both families, Violet and Orange, aimed for us at the same time.
However, the battle between us has temporarily stopped because of Violet and Orange’s members suddenly being put to sleep by Shu-san’s unexpected entry.
Although Ayato-kun and everyone else still don’t have their memories back, once they wake up they might try to attack us again.
Luckily Shu-san tied them all up, and then continued to roll them down to leave them in the living room for the time being.
Place: Scarlet mansion — Living room
Ayato: …..
Yui: (Ayato-kun, even in his current state he’s able to sleep soundly…)
Reiji: Even if they would be to wake up, they would not be able to cause trouble.
Yui: T-That‘s right.
(Even though they came here for a household search, it was quite easy to tie them up and make them unable to do anything once waking up again…)
By the way, what about Yuma-kun?
Shu: I carried him to my room. He’s probably still comfortably sleeping in my bed as we speak.
The others might just end up being confused with him being here anyway. With this, there’s no need to wake him up yet.
Yui: ...But to be honest, I’m confused myself. Reiji-san seemed as if he knew Shu-san would come back at some sort of point.
To me, it came out like the both of you were having some sort of advanced meeting to set a timing for him to come back...
Shu: It was hard to stay silent about that. But as you already said, everything that happened has been arranged beforehand.
Yui: It was arranged?
Shu: Do you remember it? It was when Ruki attacked us and tried capturing you, the day I remembered everything.
That was also when I decided to get help by taking the opportunity to talk to Reiji.
Yui: Just the two of you? ...Ah.
So that’s why Reiji-san preached me not to stay in your room, you didn’t want me to be able to listen to your plan—
That’s the only time I was taken out of your room, right?
Shu: Yes. On that day we—
*flashback starts*
Reiji: Well then? What is it that you wanted to talk alone about? Has your mind finally decided to be at least a little obedient now?
Shu: I want to ask you something before answering that. Do you somehow remember the name “Sakamaki”?
Reiji: Pardon? I have never heard of this before.
Shu: So it’s as I thought...
Monologue
I wanted to get back Reiji’s memories, which is why I tried revealing the truth to him.
The Sakamaki mansion. Ayato, Kanato, Laito and Subaru being our younger brothers and all about that.
However, Reiji didn’t even bother trying to listen properly to me once I started talking about it.
Place: Scarlet mansion — Shu‘s bedroom
Reiji: I was already wondering what you wanted to talk about, but for you to tell me such a joke instead...
Shu: This is not a lie or whatever. It’s the truth that you’re my younger brother. You’re the second eldest son of the Sakamaki family.
Reiji: It is impossible for me to believe you talking about such a foolish thing. Good grief, how ridiculous.
Shu: (I already expected it to be complicated… but it seems as if she really had a hard time trying to get me to remember, as well as I do right now)
(I thought there may be a way to regain someone‘s memories without them experiencing an intense shock…)
(I really didn‘t want to use the truth against him… but I have no other choice)
Say, Reiji… do you remember someone named Edgar?
Reiji: ...Edgar… ?
Shu: This used to be a human’s name. I knew him from olden days, and you’ve met him as well.
*weird sound*
Reiji: Kch… Nn… why… my vision, ngh…
Shu: That guy was very close and dear to me. But one day, the village he lived in was burned down.
And he himself jumped into the flames—
Say, Reiji. You can‘t have forgotten about that, isn’t that right?
The one who burned down Edgars village… that was you.
Reiji: ….. !
Shu: You’ve been jealous of me, the eldest son of the Sakamaki family… and because of that jealousy, you’ve burned down Edgar’s innocent village.
Reiji: That is wrong! I am… the eldest son of this mansion… Nn.
Shu: Remember them… the sins you’ve committed.
You’ve gone made because of pure jealousy, and that’s why you burned him down, Reiji…!
Reiji: Kch… Ngh… Ahhh.
*weird sound*
Reiji: Haa… Haa...
Shu: And? Did you remember everything now?
Reiji: Yes… I have remembered… good grief… what a drastic measure of treatment...
Shu: ...I honestly couldn’t think of another way to phrase it.
I had no other choice, but in order to have you regain your memories, I needed to talk about this.
Reiji: It is fine with me… owing to your actions, all of my memories have successfully turned back.
Shu: I have no intention of continuing this absurd fighting we’re supposed to participate in anymore. But I’ll need you to help me with that, Reiji.
I need you to cooperate with me, in order to return everyone back to normal—
*flashback ends*
Yui: That means, Reiji-san’s memories returned back to him ever since that day happened!?
Reiji: Exactly. I must excuse myself from saying nothing about it until now.
Besides, I must have been a bother ever since I lost sight of myself in this space. To you… and to Shu.
Yui: Not at all… I’m just really happy Reiji-san finally returned back to normal. I’m really, really happy about this… !
Reiji: It appears as if you are not holding onto the difficulties, I must have cause with acting delighted. Despite that, I will inquire to make up for my actions.
Yui: You don’t need to repay us with anything. All of this happened to us because of someone confusing our memories, so you haven’t done anything wrong.
Reiji: ...I see. Well then, I truly am charmed by your kind words and will certainly do as you wish. I will do so for the sake of keeping focus on finding a resolution to this situation.
Yui: Ah… and here I believed the both of you really had a huge fight going on.
Shu: That was part of Reiji’s strategy. We did so to ascertain deeper into our investment.
The part of me leaving and the fight the both of us had, it was all included in our play.
Yui: I think I understand now...
I’ve never felt so relieved till now… I truly believed the relationship between you would always have its discrepancy.
Shu: It’s not as if we’re going to treat each other nicely because of that now.
Reiji: I at least can only agree on that relating point.
Yui: A-Ah...
(Nevertheless, they still decided to cooperate with each other to come to a conclusion)
(Thinking about that, it looks as if the entire Sakamaki family is completely gathered in this mansion now. Is that also because of Shu-san?)
Ayato: Nn… Hmm...
Yui: By the way, what kind of a bomb did you throw at Ayato-kun back then in the hallway?
You said something like if you start inhaling the pollen, you’ll be put into a sudden sleep...
Shu: I was told this is a simplicity bomb that contains a hypnotism effect. Reiji has made this one with materials from the provision.
Yui: (A-As it expected from Reiji-san…)
Shu: I received it from him right after pretending to leave the mansion. Just shortly afterwards I’ve been hiding myself nearby the mansion.
Yui: Thereupon you must’ve known Ayato-kun and the others were about to show up to attack the mansion...
Choices
1) I wanted you to tell me about it (black)
2) That was an amazing strategy (white) ♡ ♡ ♡
— I wanted you to tell me about it
Yui: I wanted you to tell me about your plan though. Did you know how awfully worried I was about you?
Shu: Sorry about that. But you wouldn‘t have stayed silent if I told you about it, would you? Just looking at your expressions would reveal it all.
Yui: Uhh… it might’ve been the right choice not to inform me about anything of the plan after all…
Shu: Thought so. Your selfish facial expressions are always the most unusual ones.
Yui: Please stop looking at me like that.
(If he continues to intriguingly stare at my face as he has done until now, I’ll seriously start to feel awkward…)
— That was an amazing strategy ♡
Yui: That was an amazing strategy. You must’ve put a lot of time and consultation in thinking about it.
Shu: This has been Reiji’s strategy too. His abilities have been the reason why I wanted to be able to pull him into my plan.
Yui: Seems as if you put a lot of trust into Reiji-san.
Shu: Don’t start joking around. There was no other way but to put at least some faith into him.
Yui: (I-I guess I’ll have to wait until he completely admits it)
(But I shouldn’t tell him yet. I still want him to continue believing in Reiji-san, at least a little)
*Shu comes closer*
Shu: After all, you’re the number one person I’d always put my trust into first… Nn…
*Shu kisses Yui*
Yui: Nn… !?
W-Why did you just kiss me!?
Shu: All you talked about was Reiji and more Reiji, so I shut you up.
Yui: Please don’t let yourself get overwhelmed by jealousy again… !
end Choices
Ayato: Nn...
Yui: Ah!
Reiji: It seems like you have finally woken up.
Ayato: Ah!? What’s this!?
Kanato: Why have my hands been tied together? I can’t move like this.
Subaru: Shit… untie me right now!
*Subaru struggles*
Yui: Everyone calm down, please! The circumstances we’re in right now...
Laito: Looks as if we’re done for now. Maybe this was a plan to catch all of us from the very beginning?
Ayato: Are you serious? Does that mean the letter we all got was strange after all?
Laito: Well, it might’ve been so.
Ayato: Fuck, then it must’ve been those assholes who sent the letter! What a cowardice move!
Reiji: No, we have not taking part in writing this letter.
Yui: Eh? But I genuinely thought you send it for the sake of getting Ayato-kun and everyone together too...
Shu: That’s not it. Having Ayato and everyone else come here to start a raid was as unexpected for us as it was for you.
I instead started to pretend leaving, in order to set a trap to discover what kind of a person the one planing this secession is.
Yui: W-What do you mean by that?
Shu: Didn’t I talk to you about it? The mastermind behind this entire messing up our memories situation must be lurking around somewhere in this place.
I already expected them to start moving once I disappeared. But I’ve now caught this certain someone out — it‘s that guy.
Yui: Eh… ?
*footsteps approach*
Kino: Ah, I thought you‘d show me an even more showy sort of fight. Is this already the end of this?
Yui: Kino-kun!? So you’ve been doing fine until now too—
Reiji: Do not approach this man.
Yui: Huh?
Shu: When you noticed how everything you came up with went conversely, you must’ve finally decided to come out.
You are the one who instigated these guys to come here, right? Kino.
Kino: Fufu, I can’t help hiding it anymore then. Well, I was slowly losing interest within this, so I kinda just wanted to get rid of unnecessary ballast.
But there was no way I would’ve thought this argument you had was all a simple fake. That’s an unexpected result for me too.
The fact that you’ve ruined my entire work… that’s what annoys me the most though. What’s your reason for that?
Yui: Kino-kun… what do you mean?
Kino: You’re seriously a child with bad judgment, huh. The one who sent the letter to Ayato and the others, that was me.
When Reiji and Shu had their little fight, I thought this would’ve been the ideal time to have them attack and let me get Eve.
Ayato: Damn, this bastard tricked us!
Kino: Fufu, I even was ridiculously successful with that plan too.
Every last one of you must seriously have a low intelligence to fall for that crap.
Subaru: Shut up! I’ll beat that disgusting smile outta your face when I’m free!
Yui: Why did you do all of this… ?
Kino: I obviously did this to have the Sakamaki family crush each other once they’d meet each other.
Yui: Crush the Sakamaki family… ? No way, Kino-kun, you...
Are you the mastermind then? Did you gather all of us in a place like this, removed our memories and then set each other up to kill?
Kino: If so, what would you do?
Yui: ...Nn!
Shu: Just what kind of a person are you?
Kino: Ah, come to think of it, I’ve never properly introduced myself to any of you.
As formerly said, I’m Kino. Karlheinz’ illegitimate child.
Yui: Karlheinz-sama’s...
Shu: ...Illegitimate child?
Ayato: Karl… heinz… ?
Ngh… what’s this…
Yui: (Ayato-kun?)
Reiji: No way, our father would never have an illegitimate child...
Shu: It’s not impossible if you remember that the person we’re talking about here is our father.
In other words, you’re saying you and we are siblings, right?
Kino: That’s right. I’ve already observed a bunch of information of you guys, before everyone started losing their memories.
Yes, I’m even willing to share interesting informations with you. Remember how we talked about Carla supposingly visiting Ruki’s mansion?
That was because he secretly wanted to see his true younger brother again. He doesn’t even seem to remember yet, but he still considered it important.
Now comparing those two to you guys. It’s already shameful how you snarled at each other. Pretty funny how my own brothers acted like this.
Reiji: Kch...
Yui: Why… Why are you laughing about this? Aren’t they your brothers, Kino-kun?
And despite being brothers, you still let them fight against each other… why would you enjoy such a thing!?
Kino: I’ve always enjoyed it so far. These guys existences are only a huge hindrance for me and my plan anyway.
Yui: ….. !
Kino: The one inheriting our fathers power at the end of this will be his zeroth son, me.
Therefore, would those hindrancing siblings of mine continue to comfortably kill each now?
Yui: That’s… so cruel…
Kino: The one obtaining the power reignings everything. The one obtaining them will become stronger than anyone else. That‘s the life this world is about.
Shu: You did all this to aim for our old man’s powers? And you even ordered us to fight against each other now, only to be the successor to his power...
Even if you may be able to obtain what you wish for, you’ll never experience satisfaction. Besides, there’s no way you’ll be able to handle them.
Kino: Hah? As if you’re in the position to discern my body’s strength. Who do you even think you’re facing and talking to right now?
Shu: This is simply a fact. You’ve withdrawn yourself from everything until now. And now in order to obtain those powers, you even wrote this letter.
Kino: So you’re still looking down on me? For real… everyone of you has always screwed with me...
*Kino activates powers*
Yui: (Ngh, the atmosphere around Kino-kun changed itself!?)
Kino: I thought it would be nice to see my siblings come together and massacre each other, but my plans changed.
Shall we decide who will become the king now?
Shu: What do you mean?
Kino: Becoming the king, or in other words, becoming Adam. With Eve’s approval, the chosen one obtains great powers.
I for now and forever, want to settle who the appropriate one among us is.
Yui: The supreme ruler… will become Adam? Eve should approve him...
(That means, this battle about becoming the king is nothing other than choosing who’ll become Adam…)
(Then the chosen one becomes Karlheinz-sama’s successor and inherits all his powers… !?)
Shu: I wasn’t interested in my old man’s powers to begin with. To make it clear, I don’t care about them.
But… Yui is different. I won’t lend her to anyone.
Yui: Shu-san...
Shu: We’ll take on that match you challenged us to then. With doing so, we’ll represent the six siblings of us.
Reiji, I’ll leave this matter in your hands.
Reiji: Understood.
Shu: About Ayato and the others, I’ll keep them tied up in order to prevent them from interrupting.
Subaru: Hah? If so, get your ass up and do something!
Kanato: How dare you to continue your incomprehensible talk while totally ignoring me like an idiot… are you making fun of me or what!?
Reiji: Be quiet!
Subaru: ….. !
Yui: (Reiji-san’s loud rebuke seems effective!)
Reiji: ...Please leave them to me. You will have to deal with him.
Shu: Yes, please do.
Yui: Shu-san...
Shu: You have to trust me once more, just like you’ve always done so far.
Yui: (To believe in him… that’s right. I won’t hesitate to keep doing so)
Understood. I’ll continue to believe in you, Shu-san.
Shu: Yes.
Yui: (I’m sure Shu-san will safely guide us through this situation—)
Shu: Let‘s end this quickly then.
Kino: ‘Kay, but this definitely will be my victory. Now, let‘s have a last deciding match—
#KINO MY BELOVED RAT#He has no rights to own me in all routes like that#diabolik lovers chaos lineage#Diabolik Lovers#diabolik lovers translation#Shuu Sakamaki#sakamaki shu#Shu Sakamaki#shu sakamaki translation#diabolik lovers shu#diabolik lovers chaos lineage shu sakamaki translation#diabolik lovers shu sakamaki#shu sakamaki chaos lineage#diabolik lovers chaos lineage shu sakamaki#diabolik lovers chaos lineage shuu sakamaki#diabolik lovers chaos lineage shuu sakamaki translation#chaos lineage#translation#otome game
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the ba sing se bimbos all become older siblings entirely by accident
remember the child trafficking ring they broke up? well, a lot of the kids scattered. but not all of them. some of them don’t have homes, or don’t know their homes, or are too little to understand what’s going on.
jin, song, and zuko are in varying degrees of distress when they realize they have to care for five young kids, aged 4-9. song is panicking because “we can’t even take care of ourselves, guys!” jin is like “i really don’t want this responsibility but somehow i know we’re going to end up looking after for these little brats”. zuko is like “look kids like me for some reason but i am Not Good At This.”
jet, meanwhile, feels more at home with a bunch of misfit kids than he has in his entire time at ba sing se. he plays games with them and sings to them and calms them down while the other bimbos debate what to do. they watch jet interact with the children from afar and are like wow this is...wholesome? it’s a whole different side of him they never knew existed.
when the kids have all relaxed a little, jet’s just like “so, we’re adopting them, right?” and everyone’s like jet you’re the oldest and you’re not even 17 No We Are Not Adopting Them.
“they’re not pets, jet!” song hisses. “i know that!” jet hisses back. “but someone has to take care of them!”
“let’s just ask mushi and song’s mom,” jin says inching away from a totally silent six-year-old boy who is Staring At Her And Not Blinking. “they’re good with kids, probably.”
everyone agrees this is a good idea and they’re stupid for not immediately doing that, except jet, who still does not understand that children shouldn’t have to parent other children, but hey, he trusts mushi and song’s mom at least.
so they parade the children back to song’s mom’s house, zuko and song holding one each by the hand, and jet holding one on each hand and carrying one on his back. i cannot explain to you how delighted these children and jet are by each other. it’s so cute song and zuko are just like infatuated with jet for a full hour. jin also thinks it’s cute, but in the way that makes her want to throw up, mostly because the six-year-old whose hand he’s holding is Still Staring At Her.
song’s mother opens the apartment door to find more than twice as many children as she had fed that morning, lets out a very long sigh, and then just says “you’re lucky i always make extra food. come in.”
(song has to fight the urge to roll her eyes. caring for children is her mother’s favorite thing in the world.)
they find out that there’s: a giggly four-year-old who calls herself ila. a pair of siblings who’s parents are from the si wong desert tribe, six-year-old sandbender abbas and his nine-year-old non-bender sister faiza. finally there’s shy and sweet seven-year-old ning and her boisterous twin brother rong.
over time, the bimbos work to get the kids back home. it proves tough - ning and rong know that their parents are dead. abbas and faiza have no idea how to get home, or if their parents are alive, and ila doesn’t seem to even know what they’re asking. she claims she never had parents to begin with, but in a confusing four-year-old way.
but they form a plan anyway. they’re going to try and bring abbas and faiza back to the desert tribe, and when ila reveals herself as a waterbender, they at least have a clue of where she might have come from.
while they try and figure all this out, song’s mother takes the twins and ila, while iroh takes the desert kids. the bimbos are around them all the time, obviously, and whether they mean to or not, they all become really close to the kids.
all the kids love jet, but the twins in particular find him to be amazing. he has patience for ning’s mumbling speech, he has the energy for rong’s constant need for attention, he is always willing to play with and listen to them both. they tell him, eventually, about how they lost their parents in a forest fire caused by the fire nation. he holds them and listens and says he went through something similar. that it’s unfair, but that he won’t let anything bad happen to them again. song’s mother and mushi both try to tell him that’s a big promise to make when he’s only a boy himself. he disagrees, of course.
ila is obsessed with song. she thinks song’s silky hair is fun to play with, she thinks song’s warm arms are the perfect place to sleep, and she thinks that song smells sweet and welcoming. song melts over the little girl, often carrying her in her arms or on her shoulders. ila has the sweetest laugh, and song loves tickling her to produce it. song never wanted a sibling before, but these kids are beginning to change her mind. ila ends up being a natural healer, healing her own parchment-cut with ease. delighted, song teaches ila as her mother used to teach her, balancing the little girl on her hip and explaining what each vial and herb means and does.
faiza, brave and protective, gets along really well with zuko. she thinks he’s funny when he doesn’t mean to be, and begs him to teach her how to use duel swords, which, eventually, he does. she’s ashamed of being a non-bender, but zuko assures her it’s really not all it’s cracked up to be. faiza teases zuko right along with the rest of the group, but zuko lets her. she’s just too adorable to get mad at. faiza secretly thinks zuko’s super cool, but she doesn’t tell him that.
the strange and silent six-year-old abbas latches on to jin like glue. you know that scene in the office when angela shows up at dwights side and he’s like “ah fuck!”? that’s jin every time abbas shows up next to her. she could be dangling off a rooftop and then abbas is just staring at her through the nearest window. how did you escape iroh’s apartment? how did you even get in there? do you even blink? eventually, it turns out abbas can talk, he just doesn’t like to do it a lot. everyone adjusts. jin comes to love this kid like a brother. whenever anyone comments on how weird he is she smacks them. it could be an old lady. it could be another kid. she doesn’t discriminate with smacks. the other bimbos often have to stop her from smacking.
the kids find their way home, as they must - first faiza and abbas, after the bimbos take a long journey into the desert to find their home. it turns out their parents have passed away, but their loving aunt and uncle have been worried sick. zuko and jin promise the children they’ll stay in touch. faiza whisper to zuko that she actually thought he was cool the whole time. abbas also whispers in jin’s ear. everyone asks what he said but she’s too busy crying to tell them.
then ila talks about how she and her mother left home because “mommy didn’t like that she couldn’t waterbend”. zuko puts together a few things: there are practically no southern waterbenders, there were only male waterbenders in the north. they figure out where she must be from. they travel around the city, looking for women who may have fled the north pole - and they find her. ila’s mother has been searching for ila right in this same city, and when they reunite it’s beautiful to behold. song gives ila’s mother her address, and they visit from time to time.
in the end, though, rong and ning have nowhere to go. song’s mother, who has come to love them as her own children, takes them in permanently. the bimbos are relieved. saying goodbye to the other kids was almost too difficult. slowly, jet learns how to be less of a dad to the twins and more of an older brother. he finds that it’s not so bad.
actually, it’s kind of nice.
the second ba sing se bimbos post as requested for my 100 Followers Celebration!!! thank you as always to @azenkii for coming up with this amazing idea.
masterpost
#the ba sing se bimbos#100 follower celebration#jinjetsongko#jin#jet#song#zuko#iroh#song’s mother#ba sing se#atla#avatar the last airbender#my stuff
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Galactica, Chapter 45 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica
A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫
Last Chapter: Aiden’s jealousy worsened, and Bianca invited Courtney to lunch.
This Chapter: Courtney, Adore and Violet all receive unexpected invitations.
***
It was kind of amazing. How Courtney could be sitting across from one of the most influential, powerful women in New York and feel so...well, comfortable. She knew that any sane person would feel horribly intimidated in this situation, but Bianca just kept on making her laugh so much, it was like she forgot to be nervous. Or...well, she wasn’t exactly not nervous, but it was a fluttery kind of excited nervous, curling pleasantly in her abdomen as they bantered back and forth.
“So...what class are you taking later?” Bianca asked, stirring her latte.
“It’s a street jazz class at BDC,” Courtney replied.
“BDC?” Bianca raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, it stands for Broadway Dance Cen-”
“Yeah, I know what BDC is, I’m not a moron,” Bianca interrupted, and Courtney bit back a laugh, finding her abrasive style somehow endearing. “I just didn’t realize you were a dancer.”
“Oh. I’m not really. I just uh...want to get into music. Eventually. Like, pop music. When I got to New York, I went on a bunch of auditions, and I realized that my dance background was nowhere near strong enough to be competitive-” Courtney stopped abruptly. Was she saying too much? As nice as Bianca was, she was also one of Fame’s best friends.
Bianca didn’t seem concerned though, simply listening, nodding, a soft smile on her face. She really was so beautiful. Courtney’s heart hammered a bit faster.
“Do you mind...um...not telling Miss Fame about that? I don’t want her to think I’m not committed. I just, feel like she’d disapprove, and I really need that job, so-”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Bianca’s smile deepened, dark eyes shining.
“Thanks.” Courtney smiled back as the waitress set down their food, relieved.
“So how’d you end up at Galactica, anyway? It’s not exactly a direct path from there to being a pop star.”
“Uh, it’s kind of a long story. I was applying for like, any job that would let me stay in the country, and when I saw the opening with Miss Fame, I was thrilled. And then Adore and I were at this club, and we ran into Violet, and...I guess she kind of put in a good word for me.”
“Huh. I wouldn’t have expected that,” Bianca mused.
“Why not?”
“Well, it’s just… Violet’s always seemed a bit...uptight as fuck?”
Courtney had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud, explaining, “She takes her work very seriously.”
“Oh yeah?” One of Bianca’s brows raised a little, challenging. “Do you?”
“Of course! I’m so lucky to have that job, a million girls would kill to be in my shoes. And Miss Fame, you know, she’s a great boss.” Courtney blinked at Bianca, watching her muffle a laugh with her hand. “What?”
“No, nothing. You’re just cute when you lie.”
That fluttery feeling was back in Courtney’s belly, stronger than ever, as she insisted, “I’m not lying! She’s great! You’re her best friend, you should know-”
“Exactly. I’m her best friend. That’s how I know you’re lying.” Bianca bit down on a sweet potato fry, eyes twinkling.
“Okay, maybe she’s a little…”
“Yes?”
“Well, she’s not the easiest boss, or the most predictable, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a good one.” Courtney crossed her arms, a pretend little pout on her lips.
“Fair enough.”
And with that particular landmine safely side-stepped, Courtney let out a relieved sigh.
“Hey, uh, here’s a question. Do you have any Thanksgiving plans? I know you’re not American, so-”
“Really, what gave that away?” Courtney asked, lashes fluttering.
“Lucky guess,” Bianca laughed. “Anyway, Adore and I usually go home to New Orleans. But my sister Liz is going through a divorce and she’s apparently just an absolute cunt to anyone who dares even look at her. So we decided to stay in town and avoid that nightmare altogether.”
“That’s nice. Very supportive.”
“Hey, I’m paying for her attorney,” Bianca defended herself, and Courtney laughed. Of course she was paying for her sister’s divorce attorney; she was quickly proving to be one of the most generous people Courtney’d ever met. “But yeah, so...would you have any interest in joining us?”
“Really?”
“Sure. I know Adore would love to have you there,” Bianca said quickly, and after a moment of hesitation, added, “And hey, I’d like to encourage her to hang out with people who read. So, you know, win win.”
Courtney bit her lip, Bianca’s sarcastic deflection as she folded up a napkin in her hands making the whole thing painfully cute.
“No pressure, I just, uh...wanted you to know you’re welcome.”
“I would love to,” Courtney said, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the invite, knowing that this was a holiday people spent with family. “I should warn you though, I just went vegan.”
“Oh shit, invite rescinded.”
Courtney giggled, twirling a lock of her hair. “I know, I've already lost 3 friends over it. And I think I’m on very thin ice with Adore. Sorry.”
“Nah, it’s no big deal. I actually eat a lot of vegan food, even tried it myself for a few years,” Bianca said. “I am a lesbian, after all.”
Courtney leaned forward, intrigued. “Is that like a thing?”
“Oh yeah,” Bianca nodded.
“Why do you think that is?” Courtney asked, lifting her glass to her lips, trying to find the straw without looking.
Bianca thought for a moment and then said, “Well...part of it is probably just lefty-feminist politics. And then of course there’s the purely unscientific belief that a plant-based diet makes your pussy taste amazing.”
Courtney choked, spitting out some of her smoothie, cheeks flushing hotly.
A mischievous smile spread across Bianca’s face as she handed over some napkins. She looked both terribly amused and a bit proud of herself.
“Sorry,” Courtney sputtered, wiping up the mess. “I was...not prepared for that.”
“I hope I didn’t destroy your innocence,” Bianca said, voice soft and teasing.
“I’m not that fragile. I’ve been Adore’s best friend for 4 years, remember?” Courtney reminded her.
“Right.”
As Courtney set down the napkins, she looked up and caught Bianca’s eyes again, both of them breaking out into matching grins. She couldn’t quite explain the way her heart thumped faster every time they looked at each other--all she knew was that looking into Bianca’s warm brown eyes, she felt better than she had in months.
***
“Fame?”
Patrick toed his shoes off, resisting the urge to dump his tennis bag by the door. He played tennis every other Saturday morning, tennis and his occasional swims the only form of exercise he had ever found bearable, even though Fame had tried to get him turned into yoga more times than he could count.
Patrick waited for a second, either expecting his wife or his dog to come down to greet him, but neither happened, instead, all he could hear was the faint sound of the TV.
“Fame? Darling?”
Patrick put his bag down, vowing to himself that he’d remember to come back and pick it up, before he made his way into their townhouse.
He found her in the living room. Fame was sitting on the couch in a silk robe, the TV on, the curtains drawn, Charles' head resting on her lap.
“Did you have fun?”
“We finished 5 sets.” Patrick smiled, Fame not actually asking how he had done at tennis, the rules of the game on the long list of things she didn’t care about, though she had shown up to watch him play, the shorts apparently making it worth it. He walked over to the couch, sitting down and leaning in to give his wife a kiss on the cheek, when he felt Fame’s hand on his face, blocking him.
“Don’t-” Fame turned her head, pulling herself away from her show as she looked at Patrick through her fingers. “I just had my skin done, and I refuse to let you mess up my microneedling.”
“Ah. Glad it’s not a chemical peel month.” Fame always looked absolutely insane after those, her skin flaking off. It was rather disgusting, and he tried not to be around for those, seeing your wife shed like a lizard weirdly enough rarely doing wonders for a sex life.
“Shut up.”
Patrick grinned, and Fame smiled as she pushed him back, Patrick settling in on the couch so Fame could snuggle up against him, her head resting on his shoulder. “And what are we watching?”
“Snapped.”
Patrick had to hide a snort, Fame absolutely devouring any and all true crime media. When she’d first gotten addicted to that particular show, all about women who murdered their partners, he’d wonder if she was trying to tell him something. Her response when he’d asked, “Keep asking questions like that and you’ll find out,” had made him burst out laughing, his wife’s sardonic, grisly sense of humor one of the things he loved the most about her, only coming out in rare instances but always a delightful surprise. Almost as surprising as her porcelain chicken collection.
“Your bag better not be flung anywhere.”
Ah.
Busted.
***
Katya hummed to herself as she was setting the table, a bottle of wine for Trixie and sparkling water for her chilling in the fridge.
Trixie was locked up in their bedroom, working away on the cost predictions for the Spring prêt-à-porter collection, sweating over numbers and doing everything he could to make sure everything was running smoothly.
He had promised her to come out for dinner, so Katya had arranged a surprise, a gigantic order of Chipotle on its way.
“Hey Katya?”
Katya looked up from where she had been folding the napkin, to see Pearl leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed. She was wearing a pair of drop-crotch sweats and a sleeveless jersey tied up around her midriff, certainly not her typical going-out clothes. Was it possible that she was staying in? On a Saturday?
“Everything okay?”
Pearl gave a slow, unconvincing nod, walking forward a few steps.
“Are you sure about that?”
“How did you know that you wanted to be with Trixie forever?”
Katya paused, the napkin still in her hand as she considered Pearl’s question. Normally, she would have made a joke about Trixie’s luscious butt, but judging from Pearl’s face, this wasn’t the time.
“I honestly…still don’t know.”
“Please,” Pearl sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” Katya smiled. Pearl and Trixie had been friends for forever, but they didn’t become best friends until after Katya and Trixie had started dating, Pearl moving in with Trixie while she was in rehab for that final time. “I liked being single. I liked having little whirlwind romantic flings and then going back to starfishing across the bed when they were over.”
Pearl laughed, shaking her head, and Katya declared a small victory for making her crack a smile.
“If I’d been single forever, I’d have been perfectly fine.”
Maybe not perfectly fine, but Pearl didn’t need to know that, the things Katya had done before Trixie came into her life not really things she was particularly proud of.
“I liked being free.” Katya shrugged, trying it out.
“Mmmh?”
Bingo.
Katya hid a smirk, Pearl straightening up the moment freedom had been mentioned.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Pearl was struggling in her relationship with Adore, that her friend was probably freaking out about being with someone for any extended amount of time, since Katya had never seen Pearl do anything like what she doing now, long-term relationships not really the Liaison brand.
“But I met Trix, and I like him more than freedom. Or, well, that’s not really accurate. Actually…” Katya sat down beside Pearl. “The truth is, I feel my freest when I’m with him. Knowing that he’s in my corner. But I mean, knowing for sure? I just don’t think certainty is in my nature. Luckily, it’s in his. That’s why we’re a good team.”
“Yeah. That makes sense. You guys are a good team.” Pearl sighed.
“Do you feel like you guys are a good team?” Katya asked carefully.
“Sometimes. I mean...we’re a lot alike. Maybe too much alike. I dunno.” Pearl avoided Katya’s gaze.
“Here’s a question...are you happier with her, or without her?” Katya asked.
“I...don’t know.”
Katya reached for Pearl’s hand. “Pearl, listen. I like Adore, a lot actually. I think she’s sweet and beautiful and funny and she obviously cares about you so much. But I also think that stringing her along when you’re feeling like this...it’s not fair to either of you.”
“I just don’t want to give up so fast!” Pearl exclaimed. “I always do that. I promised myself that I would actually try this time.”
“Well, then maybe you just need to be reminded of why you got together in the first place.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Also...now I don’t want to sound like I’m preaching here,” Katya began.
“No, it’s fine. I asked for your opinion,” Pearl said.
“Well...in my experience...it’s really hard to maintain any kind of real relationship--friendship, romantic, whatever--if you prioritize your ego over the other person’s feelings.”
Pearl blinked at her for a few seconds, letting the comment sink in, before dropping her head to the table with a soft, “fuck…”
Katya chuckled and leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. “You’ll be alright.”
***
“Drink drink drink drink drink drink drink drink YEAHHHHHHH!” The girls cheered as Adore finished her beer and slammed the empty glass down on the table.
Adore laughed, wiping her mouth, looking around at the group. Originally, when Courtney had introduced her to these girls years ago as “my sorority sisters,” she was picturing stuck-up, prissy little spoiled brats, who would judge her and never accept her - the punk rock lesbian who walked around in bare feet and no bra most of the time.
She was pleasantly surprised when they ended up being fun, and mostly turned their Mean Girls Judgement on others, or each other. Somehow Adore became the untouchable and beloved mascot of the group, the cool, alternative one who gave them all street cred. Tyra loved her because they were both from the South, both from big families and both of them possessed deeply developed bullshit detectors. Tati enjoyed doing shots with her and wreaking havoc (and was good for a sloppy drunken makeout session at least a few times a year) and Morgan - well, Morgan was kind of a cunt, but in the very best way. It was part of her charm, and, as she explained it, part of her Scottish heritage.
This night out with her friends was exactly what she needed to take her mind off her current relationship drama. She’d only spoken to Pearl once since their fight the other day, and it was tense, Pearl claiming to be running into a meeting. After that, nothing. No messages, no calls--she still wasn’t 100% sure where things stood between them.
Adore turned to Courtney, who absentmindedly stirred her drink with a straw, staring into space. She’d already noticed a bit of a change in her mood from a week ago - there was definitely something lighter about her. Still, quiet wistfulness wasn’t her general M.O. in a club - usually she was the first one on the dance floor. Adore nudged her gently with a hip.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” Courtney turned to her with a little smile, green eyes soft.
“Are you having fun?”
“Of course! I always have fun with you,” she said, wrapping her arms around Adore’s waist and cuddling closer, laying a head on her shoulder.
Adore pressed the kiss to the top of her head before asking the other question on her mind, “So...um...what’s going on with you and my sister?”
Courtney’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I heard you hung out today…and that you’re joining us for Thanksgiving?”
“Oh. Right. No, I just ran into her by chance.”
“Where the hell are you hanging out, where you run into someone like that?” Morgan asked. “The fuckin’ SoHo house?”
“It was a bookstore.”
“Ugh, smart bitch.”
“And like…she bought me lunch because she knows I’m poor,” Courtney explained, “and since you guys will be in town and I don’t have family here, she just asked if I wanted to come.”
“Oh yeah, no big deal,” Tyra cut in, “She just took you on a date and then invited you to a family holiday…”
“It wasn’t a date!” Courtney said, laughing. “It was really all just very casual. She was just being nice.”
“Being nice for no reason. Sounds like Bianca alright,” Adore said, one eyebrow raised, and Courtney giggled again, shrugging.
“Maybe she’s nicer than you think.”
“Listen, Courtney, I’m glad you’re gonna be there because I love you. But just...you know, my sister is very...uh…”
“Yeah?”
“No, she’s great. Like, she’s the best. But…” Adore trailed off, grabbing a shot from the round Morgan was setting on the table and tossing it back.
It felt weird to be having this conversation. Did she really need to warn Courtney about Bianca? After all, B had joked about hitting on her before but never actually done anything. And what would she even say? ‘My sister is very good at charming the pants off every girl who catches her attention--especially the blondes’? ‘Beware the dimples’? She was certain that Bianca would never make a move on someone who didn’t want it, so...why not just leave it alone?
“You know what? Nevermind. Whose phone is that?” Adore felt her pocket, realizing that the out of control buzzing was her own phone--hopefully not her sister being an impatient cunt about Courtney’s number.
PEARL: Hey. I’m sorry about how I acted on Thursday.
PEARL: And yesterday
PEARL: There’s a warehouse party in Brooklyn tomorrow
PEARL: At the navy yard. Wanna go?
PEARL: It’s right by Grimaldi’s…
PEARL: Best pizza in NY
PEARL: My treat
ADORE: So you like pizza again, huh?
PEARL: It’s my favorite ;)
ADORE: Lol, okay, I’m in. <3
Adore looked back up at her friends, grinning at the group. “Let’s go dance!”
***
Sutan wasn’t nervous.
He wasn’t, because that would be ridiculous.
Sutan took a sip of his coffee, watching people walk by the cafe he was sitting at. It was a surprisingly sunny Saturday for October, the air crisp and fresh. He had already waited for 20 minutes, Violet once again late, but Sutan had asked for a chocolate croissant with his first cup of coffee, his girlfriend's time management skills surprisingly terrible.
Sutan was planning to invite Violet to Aspen with him, Raja and Raven for their annual ski trip. It was a tradition of theirs, Raja and he owning a cabin together that they visited every year. He wasn’t a brilliant skier, but he liked the mountain air, the sense of freedom, and of being disconnected while out on the slopes.
He had thought about inviting Violet along for weeks, Raven needling him about whether or not Violet would be coming with him.
Sutan wanted Violet to join them. Wanted to see her all dressed up in winter wear, wanted to teach her how to ski and have drinks by the fire in the evening.
There was just the teeny tiny insignificant detail, that the last time he had asked someone to come with him and Raja to Aspen, it had been a terrible time.
He didn’t hate Kahmora, at least not any more, their divorce lasting longer than their marriage, but he still felt a sense of dread every time he visited L.A. - which was why he avoided the city as much as he could, Kahmora thankfully relocating once they severed ties.
Violet wasn’t Kahmora though, actually, they were as different as day and night.
“Hey.”
Sutan turned his head to see Violet come walking towards him, her coat closely around her, her new bag in hand, and Sutan was glad he had splurged for the largest model Dior made, the purse already stuffed.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Violet pressed a kiss against his cheek, sliding in on the other side of the table, her dress brushing against him. “Have you eaten?”
“I was waiting for you.”
Violet didn’t need to know that he already finished a chocolate croissant, that sin between him and his trainer.
“Ah,” Violet looked guilty for a second, brushing a bit of her hair behind her ear, her earring of the day a tiny golden hook. “Sorry, I was at work and time just flew by-”
“Work?” Sutan twisted his wrist, taking a peek at his Rolex. “It’s 10:33 on a Saturday?”
“I went in at 6.” Violet picked the menu up, the fact that she tried to pretend that she wasn’t going to order avocado on rye kind of cute. “I know I have to turn my dress over to tailoring sooner or later-”
“But you want to finish as much as you can?” Sutan smiled, emptying his coffee cup. “Of course.”
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not,” Sutan held up his hands in defense. “Promise.” He couldn’t help but sneak a peek at Violet’s right hand, her fingertips thankfully not the raw red points he had helped wrap and put ice on. “It’s just very dedicated-”
“This is my first chance to get an actual piece on the runway. It has to be perfect-” Violet was cut off as the waiter came over, Sutan hiding a grin as she ordered avocado on rye, his second breakfast a plate of scrambled eggs and salmon.
“Speaking of perfect.” Sutan moved his chair while the waiter walked away, his stomach tied up in a knot. “I was wondering, if…”
“Yes?” Violet tilted her head, clearly listening, her brow eyes resting on his face.
“If you’d like...” Sutan had no idea why this was so hard, “to come to Aspen with Raja, Raven and I in January?”
“What?” Violet looked genuinely confused.
“Raja and I own a cabin, and-”
“Like, in Colorado? Like Aspen Aspen? Like posh skiing Aspen?”
“Yes?” Sutan lifted a brow. “Do you know any other Aspen?”
“No, but I-” Violet bit her lip, her white teeth sinking into it. “I don’t know how to ski?”
“Oh,” Sutan laughed, the admission not at all what he had expected. “Well, lovely eyes.” Sutan smiled. “I can promise you, that that is not a problem.”
#rpdr fanfiction#thedane#veronica#galactica#bitney#adore x pearl#vitan#courtney act#bianca del rio#miss fame#katya zamolodchikova#pearl liaison#adore delano#raja gemini#violet chachki#lesbian au#m/f au#fashion au
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Power of Heroez: Chapter 2
Using the Denden sensor was being proved somewhat difficult at the moment. For each corner Hidari Shotaro and Ai turned, there would always be someone to fight. Be it Masquerade Dopants, the weird mechanical security guards, or even large drones that shot lasers at you if you weren’t quick enough.
After running (and fighting) through a few more blocks, however, the two came upon a building that Ai identified as the ‘Visitor Center’.
“This place might hold the clues you are searching for.” Ai suggested. “Everyone who visits this island must come to this center in order to obtain an ID.”
“So, everyone on this island has visited this place at least once, huh.” Shotaro hummed.
“If possible, we might even be able to trace the movements of the chips that are planted inside the IDs.” Ai added.
Shotaro’s eyes widened at this information. “I see! We might be able to track down Professor Aida’s whereabouts! Nice one, Ai! Let’s hurry and see what we can do!”
The two rushed towards the entrance only to find that it was locked. “I’m afraid that we won’t be able to enter without proper clearance.” Ai informed after scanning the door.
Shotaro cursed. “Looks like we’ll have to find another way in.”
“It seems there is an underground parking lot that connects to Visiting Center just over there.” Ai said, motioning towards what looked like an opening to a tunnel.
“Alright. Let’s go check it out.” Shotaro sighed, knowing that he would have to fight something or someone again real soon.
Oh, how right he was. The underground parking lot entrance was surrounded by security.
Shotaro sighed... again. He was starting to get a bit tired from all the non-stop fighting and his muscles still ached with pain from getting knocked out by the large entity. But, he knew that he couldn’t stop now.
���Ai, stay behind me while I take care of this.” Shotaro commanded, stretching out his sore arms. Then he rushed over, and punched the first Masquerade Dopant that he could see.
As he was in a hurry, he tried to keep each fight as short as possible. After he defeated the guards at the entrance, Shotaro and Ai kept going through the parking lot as fast as they could, with Shotaro defeating anyone that got in their way. Thankfully, a few good things came out of choosing this route. They were able to come across one of the other Memory Gadgets- Batshot, which they used to get a Gaia memory after seeing it on a ceiling light fixture. Luckily, the memory happened to be Philip’s Cyclone memory. (Shotaro did however, low-key question why this memory was in the city and not with Philip. But that question would have to wait for now.)
“Perfect!” Shotaro exclaimed excitedly. “Now Philip and I can transform into Kamen Rider W!”
“Kamen Rider W?” Ai repeated, curiously. “As in.... the hero that saved Fuuto?”
This piqued Shotaro’s curiosity a bit. “Hm? Do you know us?”
“I’m sorry.” Ai apologized. “I seem to, but I have no memory as to why.”
“Hmmm...” Shotaro hummed, before tying the Cyclone memory to Batshot and sending it off to the agency. Philip will be delighted to have it back. The two then continued on into the entrance of the building. Shotaro was slightly relieved as there wasn’t anyone in sight that he would have to fight, which means he could take a momentary break.
Leaning against the wall, but still alert, Shotaro allowed himself to take a few deep breaths as he waited for Philip to reconnect with him. Given the fact that Fuuto was right by Sector City-and that Batshot was a pretty fast flyer- it didn’t take too long.
“Yo, Shotaro.” Philip greeted after they transformed back into Kamen Rider W. “I’m glad to see you well. But what happened after we were forced out of our transformation?” “Hey, Philip.” Shotaro scratched his cheek. “Well, it’s a bit of a story, that’s for sure.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Shotaro?” Ai interrupted before the conversation could continue. “What is this voice?”
“Oh right! I should introduce you!” He held up his left hand to his right side. “This is my partner, Philip! Philip, this is Ai. She’s been helping me solve this case so far.”
“Hello. I am Ai. I am a navigational artificial intelligence system made for Sector City.”
“An artificial intelligence system... I see. That must be why your name is Ai.” Philip mused softly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ai.”
“Ah! I never realized that it was a play on words...” Shotaro mumbled in shock. But before Philip could tease him about it, Ai jumped up with alarm.
“My sensors are informing me of a possible enemy presence!”
“Well, Philip.” Shotaro sighed. “Looks like explanations will have to wait for now. We need to hurry and find more data on Professor Aida before it’s too late.”
“Alright.” Philip responded as they started running up the stairs. According to Ai’s data log, they had to climb up a few flights in order to get main office of the building. Thus the trio run up the stairs as fast as they could. If any security got in their way, they would just quickly knock it out and move on. When they finally arrived at the correct floor, they followed Ai until she stopped in front of a set of doors.
“There is a response emanating from this room.” She informed.
“A response? As in someone is in there?” Shotaro asked. “Are they a friend or foe?”
“I guess we’ll find out in a second.” Philip answered, as they reached for the handle and slowly grabbing it. Jolting the door open, W rushed inside, bracing for any sort of attack that might come their way. However, no attack came. The room was empty except for a tall figure, standing near the windows. The two stood there in shock as the figure turned to look at them.
“ Nasca!?” Philip gasped.
Sonozaki Kirihiko, the Nasca Dopant, was standing in front of them seemingly strong, healthy... and alive.
“It’s been a long time, Kamen Rider.” Kirihiko greeted ever so elegantly. “I assume that you’re here to look for Gaia memories like this one, correct?”
Alarmed, Shotaro and Philip watched quietly as Kirihiko lifted up his hand to show off the Heat memory he had somehow obtained. Shotaro kept looking from the memory to Kirihiko. Even after about ten years, the image of a beaten up Kirihiko was still fresh in his mind. This couldn’t be the same person... could it?
“A-are you.... are you really, Kirihiko?” Shotaro finally asked.
“Excuse me.” Ai interrupted quietly. “Are you two acquainted with this person?”
“Yes.” Shotaro answered. “Sonozaki Kirihiko. The two of us equally had a love for Fuuto and wanted to protect it.”
“However.” Philip added, gravely. “He’s supposed to have died ten years ago.”
Sensing alarm and confusion from the two, Ai quickly scanned the mysterious Dopant. “I am detecting a powerful Core Energy response from this person!”
“Hey!” Shotaro pointed at the Dopant. “Answer me! Are you really Kirihiko?!”
For a moment, Kirihiko didn’t respond. The silence only aggravating Shotaro even more. “Say something!” He demanded, to which the Dopant finally complied.
“I am nothing but a dead man.” Kirihiko replied. “I have no intention of saying anything... at the moment. For now, I must fight you.”
Shotaro clicked his teeth. “Looks like we have no choice.”
The fight with Kirihiko was anything other than simple. Fast fists punched the other, quick steps dancing across the floor to help dodge. It almost seemed as if they were only sparring playfully and yet, also looked as if they were trying to kill each other. Ai, who watched on with enough amazement that a robot could project, was having trouble analyzing who would end up victorious. However, as W kicked Nasca, the impact seemed to... affect him in some way, causing him to pause. Despite Philip taking notice in this, Shotaro-his eyes and heart only focused on the fight- ran at Kirihiko with his arm raised. Kirihiko’s focus was back to the fight now as he too started running at W, however, he raised nothing. This allowed W to land a punch hard enough to send Kirihiko flying back until he hit one of the large windows.
“You were as strong as I remember.” Kirihiko gasped. “This... is for the best.”
His last sentence was hushed in a whisper, yet Shotaro and Philip still heard him.
“You... You did this on purpose...?” Shotaro cried. “But... Why?!”
“It looks like I’ve no time to explain.” Kirihiko winced. Feeling the glass cracking even more from his weight. “But, please... tell me one thing.
“Does the same wind still blow... in Fuuto?”
The question was odd yet felt so ordinary for the detectives. Shotaro nodded.
“Yes. They haven’t changed at all since you left.”
“I see.” Kirihiko smiled behind his mask. “Then... I will continue to entrust the future of Fuuto... to you.”
Suddenly, as the window could no longer hold the Dopant up any longer, the glass shattered, causing Kirihiko to fall backwards into the depths of the concrete city below.
“I’m so... glad.” Kirihiko uttered to himself before letting gravity to do its work.
“No!” Shotaro yelled as he watched the Dopant fall to yet another death. But it was too late for him to do anything. Guilt and frustration rushed through his heart. He growled, punched the ground, and yelled out “Kirihiko!!” one last time.
Philip was quiet through all of this, knowing that Shotaro needed some time to let everything out before calming down.
“Shotaro...” Philip spoke after a few quiet minutes.
“Yeah.” Shotaro whispered. “Ai, you said that you had detected a strong Core Energy response from Nasca, right?”
“Yes.” Ai confirmed. “The response I detected was extremely high.”
“What do you think about that, Philip?” Shotaro hummed.
“Considering all that we’ve seen so far...” Philip started. “The X symbol, suggesting that Foundation X is involved, along with the revival of dead Dopants... research about the mysterious Core Energy... This whole case is becoming quite intriguing.”
Shotaro stretched out their arms and sighed. “It feels like to me that the winds of this town are howling for our help, partner.”
Philip agreed. “There are some dark secrets in this city. And Ai...”
He turned their head to look at the robot. “Are you really who you say you are?”
This would have alarmed Shotaro, however, he’s been used to Philip’s tendency to suspect everything relating to a case.
“Nothing she has done so far has been suspicious.” He informed his partner, calmly. “Plus, she is our client. A detective has to have faith in his clients. If we start to suspect Ai... then how can Ai have any faith in us?”
Philip chuckled, shaking their head. “As always, you really are too trusting.”
“Faith...?” The two heard Ai repeat the word as if hearing it for the first time.
“That’s right.” Shotaro said, confidently. “I have faith in you, Ai. So, I’m gonna count on you to have faith in us, ok?”
“I understand.” She replied. “I will do my best to justify this ‘faith’ you have shown me.”
“Ok.” Shotaro smiled. “Now! We have the Heat memory back in our hands. So, all we have to do know is keep on moving. “
“The ID registration terminal is nearby.” Ai informed. “We will be able to check Professor Aida’s data there.”
With Ai leading them again, the trio headed out of the room and further down the hallway to what looked like a large self-service station.
“Accessing guest data.” Ai announced as she began her scanning process. After about a minute, she said. “Professor Aida’s data... found. Professor Aida’s ID was processed exactly one week before the accident, as a top-level VIP.”
“A whole week before?” Shotaro asked. “Wow. She came here pretty early on then. And as a VIP no less.”
“According to the data, Professor Aida’s car is parked in the underground parking lot.” Ai continued.
“A Car... If we can access the navigation system, we might be able to locate where on the island she went...” Philip suggested.
“Alright!” Shotaro nodded. “Let’s go find that car!”
#kamen rider#kamen rider w#kamen rider ooo#kamen rider zero one#hidari shoutaro#philip#kamen rider accel#terui ryu#kamen rider birth#kamen rider birth prototype#date akira#shintarou gotou#hiden aruto#fanfiction#kamen rider memory of heroez
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Chapter 13: Filled emptiness (Part 3)
Warnings: addiction, mentions of murder
Author notes: here is part 3...! It is a quieter part compared to the previous one, I hope you’ll like it!
We went back early enough for me to take a small shower and trade my shirt for a clean one. The doctor wanted to meet me in front of the dorms at half past seven, which also allowed me to have breakfast. While I was getting prepared, Dazai had gone to his bedroom to rest, but I was convinced he had most certainly fallen asleep. He rarely did sleep, even when he felt exhausted, so I hoped he could at least close his eyes without becoming an easy prey for his nightmares. I took a deep breath and exited his apartment to start my day, which would be the first of my therapy, too. I had not slept at all, yet I felt more energised than ever, and determined to finally turn a page of my life to start anew.
As expected Yosano-sensei was there, easily recognisable by the peculiar hairpin in the shape of a butterfly she wore everyday. I walked towards her, and greeted her with my brightest smile.
"Good morning sensei…!"
"Ogawa…! Just on time…! Today—"
She stopped, then grabbed my chin to take a closer look at my face. She narrowed her eyes, annoyance clearly changing her expression.
"... Are you kidding me, Ogawa…?"
"W-Well…"
"You didn't sleep, did you?" She clicked her tongue "I refuse to start your treatment today. You'll only feel pain, and it won't help at all."
"I see… I should have expected as much…"
"It doesn't matter." She patted my shoulder lightly "You surely had something important to do… I still have something to show you, though…!"
"And I'm impatient to see what it is…!"
She took a couple of keys out of her pocket, then led me towards the door to an apartment. I first thought it was her place, but that guess was pushed aside the moment I saw the room was empty. With a smile, she showed me around, and I quickly understood what was happening.
"Is that… My future home…?"
"You're wrong." She corrected me "It's not your "future" home, it's your home from now on. The former resident has just left, so you can use it."
"But… I don't have enough money to rent it… I thought that was why I was still living at Dazai's…"
"Money isn't an issue since the Agency pays for us. It was simply a matter of freeing some space for you. And, at last, it happened…!" She exclaimed, rather proudly "Do you like it?"
"Do I like it…? I love it…!" I answered, wholeheartedly "I finally have a home… Ever since I was born, no place had ever felt so warm… I'm so glad, thank you, Yosano-sensei…!"
"I'm happy for you, then." She smiled "You already have a futon, and a table. You can add other furniture when you have enough money to buy some."
"Yes…! I can already picture a bookshelf right here… It would be filled with books… And a pillow too, to create a cosy reading space…" I imagined.
"That's not a bad idea." She agreed "Oh, and… Look inside the wardrobe."
I was curious, so I did just as she said and opened it, only to find a set of new and colourful clothes. There were a few identical white shirts, as well as a navy blue suit composed of a jacket and a pair of pants. I looked at the doctor, astonished.
"Sensei, I… That's so much… I can't accept it…"
"It's a late welcome gift to the Agency." She said softly "Your clothes are… Well, I'm not sure you can call them clothes anymore… This is a new life, you need some changes."
"Even so, they are so beautiful…"
"You also have a new pair of shoes at the entrance, although you were too amazed by the place to notice them." She chuckled "I'd also like to do something for your hair… But let's wait for that addiction to go away first."
"I agree… I'll really be freed when morphine won't control my life anymore."
"That's right. For now, you should rest. Have some sleep, too. I'll see you tomorrow at the Agency for your treatment."
"Thank you again, sensei… Oh, and… I have a case, too… A request from a friend… I have to go to Hokkaido by the end of the week." I remembered.
"I see… Do you think you can handle this while following your therapy…? It might be too hard…"
"I want to be cured. And I can't go back on my word. Besides, it is rather urgent, since someone's life is at stake. I'll manage, somehow." I assured her.
"If you say so, I have no other choice but to trust you." She nodded "See you tomorrow at the Agency, we'll discuss the case and prepare for your departure."
"Yes, sensei…!" I smiled at her "See you tomorrow…!
As soon as I closed the door behind her, a feeling of relief and joy overwhelmed me. I had a new place… My own place, one I would call "home", where I would go back to, where I would hide from the world… Since I had been generously given a day off, I grabbed my keys, enjoying the light tinting sound they made between my fingers, and decided to head off. I at least needed to buy a teapot and a book to occupy my quiet day, before starting one of the toughest times of my life, my therapy. I had lived in the streets, killed people for the Port Mafia and had even merely escaped from death, yet separating myself from morphine seemed like an impossible challenge to overcome. The simple thought of not getting my injection anymore made me crave the sweet sensation provided by the product, and I immediately stopped in my tracks. After all, it would only start the next day… For the moment, I was still an addict and had the right to consume morphine. For the moment…
Once the drug was freely flowing in my vessels, I was ready to leave and go shopping. I also needed to fill my empty fridge, and Uemura-san's store seemed like the perfect place to spend my money. He knew me, and it would not be an issue to use the laundered money I had earned from the Port Mafia. From an illegal point of view, I was pretty rich, but it was money I could never use, except with a few rare people. The man welcomed me warmly, glad that I had finally settled down somewhere.
"And how is my disciple? I hope he takes good care of you." He said, scanning the price of my purchase.
"He does." I told him "He's too worried about me for my liking, but I suppose I can't help it… I'm touched, but…"
I sighed. I could not say it made me feel irrational when it came to Dazai…
"He can be pretty insistent." He shrugged "I think you remind him of his sister, that's why."
"His what…?" I frowned.
"He didn't tell you? Well… He had an older sister, back then… She was very kind, and lived absolutely unaware of her brother's activity. A nice girl, really…"
I took the bag he handed me.
"What happened to her?"
"She met a man. The wrong one. She went on a date with him and her body was discovered the next day. Her head, however… It was never found."
I felt a shiver running down my spine, then recalled the case. It was a famous one, I had heard about it, even in the Port Mafia. The culprit was a serial killer, and had never been arrested…
"He was only seventeen back then… A young teen with an incredible gift for his current activity… It left him with quite a trauma."
"I see… That serial killer…"
I clenched my fist. I was not one to work for justice, nor to defend Yokohama, but, somehow, it angered me that such an awful man was still running free in the world. Besides, since the case of the Fox's sister, many other headless female bodies had been found in our city… It was strange that the Agency and Ranpo-san had not already arrested the criminal… Maybe he had not been requested to work on the case, after all…
"Well, now, you may understand his behaviour better. Don't tell him that I told you." He winked.
"I won't." I promised "Oh, and, thanks for your advice. About cooking, I mean."
"Don't worry about that…!" He chuckled "I can't let you eat junk food everyday after all. Besides, if you want to start a new life, you've got to start by eating better…!"
"Still, thank you." I smiled "I'm very grateful that you support me so much… I'm not sure if I deserve your kindness… But I'll try to be worth it."
"You sought my support, and I am glad to give it to you." He patted my shoulder "Do your best. You're a good person, Ogawa."
"Thank you, Uemura-san… Thank you…"
It felt comforting to have someone who believed in me and in the fact I was able to redeem myself, somehow. I had never been a good person, and it was a lie to say that the Port Mafia had turned an innocent girl into a monster, for that beast had always lied dormant within me. However, being given a chance to be a better human was something I would forever be grateful for. We all had the right to change, after all…
When I came back to the dormitory, I instinctively walked towards Dazai's door, before remembering the reason I had gone out was to slowly inhabit my own place. Delighted, I inserted my key into the lock to open my door, and immediately relished in the quiet atmosphere of the room. Slowly, I removed my shoes and went to my fridge, feeling oddly satisfied as I placed the diverse vegetables and goods I had bought for the first time. I had never gone grocery shopping before… The only shop I had ever visited was an old pharmacy to buy morphine with a forged prescription. Even so, the pharmacist had never taken a look at the said prescription, too eager to chase an addict away from his store quickly, which explained why I had never lacked pain relievers despite leaving the Mafia. Truly, it felt… Normal.
Delicately, I unpacked the kettle Uemura-san had given me to celebrate my new place. With it, boiling water would be so much easier, and making tea would only take a blink. Five months ago, when I had just become a detective, I had decided to stop drinking alcohol whenever I needed a distraction from the world. Yosano-sensei had strongly warned me about the state of my liver, and I had decided to listen to her. Following her advice, I had discovered tea, which had then slowly replaced sake and whisky, although I still drinked alcohol from time to time. Immediately, I prepared a cup of tea, ready to relax for the rest of the day, before realising that I had forgotten to stop by the bookstore to buy the first book I would read in my new home. It was important to me, and I needed time to choose… Thus, I prepared to leave again, but when I opened the door, a small package had been placed in front of it, accompanied by a note.
"Welcome, neighbour!"
I giggled as I recognised Dazai's handwriting, and unwrapped the gift. It was a book, of course… The mystery I had been reading just the previous evening, and which I had yet to solve. That one would be the first book of my home, and it was not a bad thing that it was one I would continue. Because I now had a home, it did not mean I had to start everything anew… With a slight smile, I went back inside. Finally, I was ready to spend a relaxing day off, the last one before a series of troubles. Even so, I knew that everything would be fine, eventually.
#bsd#bsd fanfic#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs oc#dazai#Dazai Osamu#yosano akiko#bsd yosano
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[Mind Blind] Trappers
Never have I thought I‘d write something that isn’t my first language (at least not this early), but I just love Mind Blind so much I have to do something to contribute to the fandom. Here’s a fanfiction about Nick and f!Button as a result. Dedicated to @mindblindbard for creating such an amazing game (And I would also like to apologize beforehand for the possible OOC.) Summary: a bit of Snickly, less bit of GrayxButton, and a whole bundle of Button’s monologue. Enjoy!
A small “click” echoes from across the room, taking over the quiet essence that previously engulfed the house. Someone is entering, and with only two people living in this place, it’s not hard to guess who it is by the door. My brother Nick, with a coat on his forearm and slightly disheveled hair, is trying too hard to loosen his tie, as if it would strangle him somehow should he fail. He seems to be in a more solemn mood than usual.
I cautiously edge over the sofa, taking a good look at his face. Dreadriness seems to drag down those poor brows on his forehead. When he notices my gaze, my brother slowly drags his eyes up to meet mine. One brief moment of tortured silence follows, then suddenly his shoulders loosen:
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
I grin, relieved to notice his confrontation sounds more of exasperation (or amusement dare I say) rather than of anger. His eyes crinkle with indulgence as a smile steadily plays on his lips. After all, Nick could never really be angry with me. I mean how could he, with his sweet, loving, adjective-adjective little sister, even if she kind of locked him in an empty room for hours, with no one but her best friend Sally, who happens to have a massive crush on him ever since elementary school.
Oops.
Now, before you all begin to judge, I just want to state that my intention is utterly and undoubtedly pure in heart. It was none other than a wedding vow under a Ferris wheel, with heaps of flowers blooming in the background like July fireworks. Sally is going to wear a lily-white dress, cascading down the curve of her body until it floods the ivory stone pavement. The color matches Nick’s ridiculously flashy suit, which...should not come as a surprise knowing how much of an extra he is; and when the pope finalizes the vow, standing aside a model bridesmaid as I am, I will be SCREAMING on top of my lungs “kiss already!” - or better yet, preparing to kiss alongside them, in the delightful scenario of a double wedding (in which the other spouse is definitely not decided by-the-by).
I admit, being stuck in a closed room is not the most creative way of starting a romance, very much beneath a creator such as myself. But you know what, Nick has always expected me to be innovative, so let’s surprise him with this epitome of cliché shall we? In fact, it can serve as a double trap, an unexpected tactic that could put the opponent off-guard and unprepared and, and…
Alright, screw it. After Rosy’s one hell of a training, I was exhausted, okay? Exhausted and, well... a bit lazy. Still, at this point, might as well just start throwing things aimlessly. I’m sick and tired of waiting for my best friend and my brother to be an item. For all I know, Sally’s feeling has been pretty clear, and I am sure there’s something from Nick’s side, but those doofuses just keep throwing at each other meaningless banter and even insisting on the weird, full-first-name basis. What was that all about?
The squeaky sound from one of the cupboards abruptly cuts through my train of thought. I raise my head, only to find Nick already standing beside the kitchen counter. Even though I did prank him a good deal, he still wants to make sure his sister has good nutrition for the night.
“How did you even get access to that room?” He wonders.
Well my dear brother, you obviously have not made aware of my very resourceful friend Glitch. It only took an avocado toast and some treats (vegan, of course!), made and packed by Nick with love. Never would have thought they could be used against him just like that.
Ouch, feeling a bit guilty here; but a double wedding is awaiting, and I just cannot ignore that call from the future. It is my (self-proclaimed) duty to make such vision a reality.
I may have developed some other questionable methods for Nick to come all the way down from the top floor, such as making Grayson unknowingly lead his best friend into a trap. Now, I’m sure I could get Gray involved in a more volitional manner, with just a few shed of crocodile tears, but as much as I love him (I mean, not literally, ahem!), the guy is a disastrous liar. No doubt Gray would be figured out in the blink of eyes.
I need not say a word, as Nick must have known all about my schemes from my open daisy field of a mind. For a brief moment, his brows creased into contemplation as an unreadable expression sets upon his features. It is one of those times where I wish I could just read his mind.
I would assume he’s questioning my ethicality, which is seriously weird coming from him, but I guess it’s different now that he’s the victim? Regardless, I approach the counter, a cheeky smile plastered on my lips.
“So how was the quality time with Sally? Anything...interesting?”
A faint blush flashes across his cheek, and I don’t need to be a Ment to know what’s going on. It’s no challenging feat to imagine that squishy feeling like marshmallows, blooming in his chest; that thumping sound of heart whenever that person’s image conjured in one’s mind; and that sweet-yet-bitterness when ones almost-but-not-quite touch...
I mentally clear my throat, now is not the time.
Nick seems to be resonating my mental throat clearing as well. Dishes clank as he’s trying so hard to form an intelligible answer.
“W-What do you mean interesting? Nothing’s interesting!” He swings around, almost colliding with the edge of the counter. “Let’s eat, Button!”
“Really, Nick?” I smirk.
It’s rare to see Nick like this, very rare. My brother always likes to pride himself on being the suavest of the suave, yet he’s acting like some hormonal teenage kid with a crush. I smile so hard, it’s a miracle that my cheeks are able to contain it. One toothless, dazzling grin as I try my best not to laugh my arse off in a villainous manner. Thousands of suppressed thoughts loom beneath my subconscious.
Then, they all explode.
“Muahahaha!!”
“So much for all those teasing her before eh?”
♪“Who said, who said “I don’t love her”?”♪
It felt immensely glorious. Waves after waves of thoughts come crashing down at once as my heart is bursting with sheer excitement. My head must have been a hell ground for Nick, which can only be worsened by his Pollard Score of 10. This means he can dissect my crumbling mess of thoughts very clearly, and no doubt that Nick can very well hear all my gloat, teasing, as well as a bunch of old songs to which I so horribly butcher the lyrics just to further torment him.
♪“And you’re never ever ever, gonna fool yourself now”♪
Nick’s face is so red, might as well make some marinara sauce. Immediately, he turns around and bolts to his bedroom, despite knowing how little it can help when my mind is already a full-on broadcaster. For the first time in my life, I am actually grateful for my sucker of mind blindness.
Makes the teasing a whole bundle of fun!
I barely hold my breath as I settle down on my diner seat, making a mental note to wrap Nick’s dish in case he’s done sulking in his room. Still giggling to myself, I muse, today has been a fun day.
**
Glitch stares at the neatly packed lunch box temptingly dangled in front of his eyes. An amused smile plastered on his lips.
“It seems that I’ve been attracting a lot of deals with the Wiseman lately, have I?” He chuckles. “What’s with you and all the locked rooms?”
Nick grins. False innocence imprints on his handsome features while he struggles to contain a devilish satisfaction. Button will be so pissed, knowing her own recent scheme actually inspires the trap that has yet to befall her. How he wishes to see her face when it all comes down.
He may or may not attempt this as payback, but one thing Nick is very certain of.
He is not the only person who wants the best friend - sibling scenario.
_____
I’ve just realized that K is the only one from the main cast who doesn’t make at least a cameo appearance. 😂 Oh well, I do have another idea specifically for them anyway (if I ever manage to write it down =)) ).
#Mind Blind#fanfic#interactive fiction#Think I might have ruined Nick here#I love him but it's so hard imagining him being in love#not to mention the guy jokes a ton and my comedic skill is just as much as Rosy’s#that’s why he stays silent most of the time in this ff 😂#choice of games#Nick Wiseman
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