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autumntouched · 2 years

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Talk to Me | Ch. 5

Fic Summary: Phoenix isn't sure she made the right call in leaving Maverick and Rooster behind on the mission. Rooster, Bob, and Hangman each try to cheer her up, in their own, very different ways.

Pairings: Past Natasha “Phoenix” Trace x Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

A/N: Natasha turns to the Floyd family chat

Natasha reminds herself, for the third time in the span of a minute, that Bob's intentions were pure if not his execution.

If Bob wins, Hangman has to do what he says for the rest of their time in North Island, including an immediate halt to any and all jokes and comments about Natasha’s gender. No side glances, quips, or sarcasm. It’s enticing.

But if Hangman wins, Bob does what Hangman says. For some reason, that means Bob going to The Hard Deck at least once wearing only his helmet, a diaper, shoes, and a pacifier around his neck and replying “they call me baby on board” to anyone who asks about it.

“No,” Natasha puts her foot down.

“I don’t even want to see that,” Payback adds. “No offense, Bob.”

Hangman looks like he was expecting their resistance. He leans back on his hands with a half smile. “What makes you so confident in my braiding abilities, Phoenix? Otherwise this is an easy way out for you.”

“You could, you know, just stop being a dickhead,” she offers.

He would not have made the bet if he weren’t confident he could win. And while she has an inkling of how Bob came by his knowledge, Natasha has no idea where Hangman might have learned and perfected the art of french braiding. She tries to ignore the other question nagging for her attention. He keeps saying her name like there's some secret between them he’s waiting for her to acknowledge.

Rooster leans against the wall beside her bed. “I told you she wasn’t going to go for it,” he gloats.

Hands on his hips, Fanboy throws his head back in exasperation. “Fine, can we get back to the game then? Payback and I were making a comeback.” Everyone turns to look at him in only his nautical boxers.

“That seems a little…optimistic,” Bob offers with a genuine look of concern.

Natasha is going to need leave from her leave with the four of them. “How about you two make another bet that doesn’t involve me and get out of my room. This is my personal time!” Too late she catches herself and does her best to keep the sinking horror that drops her heart into her stomach from reaching her face. Bob’s mouth forms a silent ‘O’, and Payback looks at her like she just blew their training exercise on a stupid error.

Hangman rolls his toothpick along his lips, somehow managing to make the gesture obscene. He is practically giddy, his green eyes dancing mercilessly. “Are you telling us I’m not the only one you enjoy giving the finger to regularly?”

If Natasha doesn’t strangle him, Rooster looks like he will.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Payback stands up and takes a deliberate seat farther down the bed.

Fanboy points at Hangman. “That’s it, Mister! You just lost your brain privileges.”

Natasha holds her hand out to Bob. “Unlock and give me your phone.” It’s halfway out of his pocket before he thinks to ask why. “Because. I need to know how good you are at french braiding.”

“I know how to braid hair,” he insists. She gives him a look that threatens his well-being on their next flight, and he scrambles to hand over the phone.

Hangman sits up. “What are you doing?”

Natasha goes to Bob’s messages and scrolls to the group chat she saw earlier. “I’m making sure Bob can win and shut you up for the rest of our leave.”

FFF (Fab Floyd Four Group Chat)

Natasha tosses the phone back to Bob who scrolls through it to check the damage. She looks at Hangman. “Whatever Bob says?” she checks.

He grins. “Whatever he says.”

“And I’m the judge?”

“It has to be objective.”

“I am objective,” she snorts.

Hangman glances at Bob. “Who did she just text?”

Bob looks at Natasha to see what she wants him to answer. She shrugs. “My sisters.”

“Uh uh! No!” Hangman waves his arms across one another. “That’s absolutely not objective.”

She folds her arms over her chest and tosses her head at the other guys. “And you trust any of them to judge?”

Hangman glances around and realizes she has a point. He thinks for a moment. “What about your ma?”

“My what!” Natasha yelps. How has this entire situation only escalated?

“All of you except Bob get to call on one person to be the judge,” he says generously.

Rooster smiles wryly under skeptical brows. “Have you considered, Hangman, that we’ve all complained about you to someone else?”

A crestfallen look flashes through Hangman’s eyes as a scan of their faces confirms the truth of Rooster’s words. Natasha almost feels bad for him but of course he rallies before she can feel too much regret and gives Rooster one of his most dazzling smiles. “Guess it will have to be a blind vote then. To be fair.” He waves a hand at them. “Go ahead, line up your folks. And careful what you say because I will be the one sending the pictures for them to vote on. No cheating.”

Natasha cannot believe she is actually texting her mother to judge a braiding contest. Valerie responds a little too enthusiastically. Jamming her phone into her pocket, she looks between Hangman and Bob. “Who’s up first?”

Bob feels around in his pocket for a coin. “Heads or tails?”

Hangman cocks his head. “Tails.”

He goes first. Not that she wants to be alone with Hangman but nor does Natasha want all eyes on her while Hangman and Bob play salon. She kicks the rest of them out to wait in the hall.

“I didn’t wash my hair this morning,” she warns, taking a seat on the room’s stiff sofa with her back against the arm. She unwinds the hair tie from her ponytail.

“Makes it easier,” he says, getting up to stand behind her.

Natasha isn’t sure what she was expecting, but his sure fingers combing gently through her hair catch her off guard. He touches her forehead to tilt her head back.

“Where did you learn to braid?” she asks to push away the strange silence. His fingers and hands move confidently and deftly as they weave the strands of her hair. It took her years of practice to get the braid as tight as he keeps it. Not that he ever needs to know that.

“At home.”

She rolls her eyes at his literal response. “I mean, who taught you?”

“My sister.” He lightly nudges her head forward. Natasha follows the motion of his knuckles, trying to ignore the way her stomach flutters when he brushes her scalp while gathering her hair or when his fingers graze her neck.

For some reason, she didn’t know until now that Hangman has a sister. There were a few short days when they first met in training at Meridian, before his personality overtook his looks, that Natasha was intrigued by the chiseled jaw, megawatt smile, and mercurial sea glass eyes. But the most she learned then was that he bled Texas and drove to Mississippi with a trunk full of Big Red soda.

“Older or younger?”

“Older. She hated having long hair but Ma insisted so she wore it in braids. She taught me when she broke her arm so I could help her.”

That is a side of Hangman that Natasha’s never seen before. Going out of his way to be helpful instead of a dick. She wonders what his sister must be like for him to take such care in learning. A saint, probably. Or an even bigger dick. Natasha would love to see someone hand Hangman’s ass to him.

He interrupts her train of thought. “If we’re asking questions, where’d you learn to play football like that?”

Is there a note of respect in his voice? When Maverick first put them on the same team for dogfight football, she had considered trading places with Halo to play with Rooster and Bob. But in the end, she wanted to prove she could play well with anyone. And to her—and Hangman’s—surprise, when he didn’t use her as bait, they made an exceptional team. Turns out, his need to be the best and hers to win made them a good match.

“At home,” she says, returning the favor.

“Fine. From who?” There is a smile in his voice.

“My brothers. They used to make me run routes with them. Mostly as an excuse to pick me up and throw me on the ground.”

Hangman chuckles. “No wonder you’re so tough.”

There are many words Natasha had guessed Hangman would use to describe her but ‘tough’ was not among them. She tries not to let herself feel too gratified to know that’s what he thinks of her. Before she can probe those feelings further, he finishes off the braid, carefully wrapping her hair tie around the ends until it is snug. And then he does something that Natasha wishes someone else saw so she could be sure it actually happened. What he does is so strange and out of character.

Hangman caresses her braid, lightly running his hand along its length from her neck to the ends. His touch is achingly tender before it disappears. He is oddly quiet when Rooster, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy crowd back inside. Payback, the best photographer among them, positions Natasha closer to the window so he can take well lit pictures of Hangman’s work from every angle.

Fanboy watches, worried. “You sure you can beat that, Bob? It looks pretty good to me.”

That shakes Hangman out of his silence. “Time to break out those Depends, Baby on Board.”

Bob merely smiles. Natasha hopes he has an ace up his sleeve because when Payback shows her the pictures, she has to hold back an exclamation of appreciation. The braid is neat and tight, each of the sections evenly gathered. For Bob’s turn, Hangman insists on remaining in the room so he can be sure Natasha doesn’t give him a hand. Rooster complains about them all being able to stay but she shoves him out too.

“No talking,” Bob bargains with Hangman while Natasha settles back onto the sofa after combing out her hair.

“Actually, I want to hear more about your secret sister,” she says. Bob takes longer to shake out her hair.

Hangman lays back on her bed, pillowing his head on his arms. “She’s not a secret. Maybe you just need to get to know me a little better.”

“Consider this my effort,” she retorts.

“Someone’s not her usual sunny self.”

“You tend to have that effect on people, Bagman,” sighs Bob. He’s moving gingerly through her hair, his motions slower and less sure than Hangman’s. She hopes she didn’t make a mistake agreeing to this. For his sake.

Natasha heads off the conversation getting sidetracked again. “What’s her name?”

“Colleen. I’m three years younger. She was furious that I turned out to be a boy instead of the sister she asked my parents for so she made me do all the girly things with her. My Little Pony, Easy Bake Oven, dress up. At least she liked Star Wars.”

“Why did girls like Easy Bake Ovens?” Bob complains. “The food was always so gross.”

“Extremely but not as gross as the time Colleen convinced me to drink half a bottle of vanilla extract when I was six. She kept telling me a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down and next thing I knew, I was drunk and barfing into a fresh basket of laundry.”

Natasha forgets Bob is trying to do her hair and turns to look at Hangman in disbelief. “How do you get drunk off a bottle of vanilla extract?”

“Phoenix!” Bob yelps, trying to tug her head back.

“Oops, sorry.”

“Hey! There’s a lot of alcohol in vanilla extract. That stuff should come with a warning.” Hangman sits up. “That’s not a french braid.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Just because your braid was basic,” Bob scoffs, and Natasha hides her laugh in a cough. “My sisters washed my hair with the expensive conditioner my mom kept in her cabinet. Turned out it was Nair. It was worth it for the look on my sister’s face when clumps of my hair started coming out in her hand, but people did end up thinking I was sick for several weeks after until the bald patches grew back in.”

Natasha cackles at both their misadventures. By the time she was five, she had earned so many bumps, bruises, and breaks trying to keep up with her brothers that her mother enrolled all of them in ballet in the hope it would moderate their more rambunctious tendencies.

“How did we survive sisters?” Hangman shakes his head.

“Sisters!” Natasha interjects. “My brother pushed me off my uncle’s truck because I told a girl he had a crush on her.”

“Why would you do that?” Hangman and Bob ask in unison.

“Geez. I was ten.”

Bob ties off her braid.

“What did you do?” Hangman demands, coming over to them to examine Bob’s work

“It’s a french braid but a fishtail,” Bob explains.

She reaches up to touch the braid. Gabby had tried to teach her how to do this style for their cousin’s wedding but Natasha was too impatient to learn. So Bob did have an ace up his sleeve.

“You should be disqualified but I’ll let it slide,” Hangman says, letting in the guys from the hall.

Payback whistles when he sees Natasha’s hair. “Dang Bob! That’s fancy.”

Natasha goes to the bathroom so she can see the back with the mirror and her phone camera. Rooster and Fanboy follow her to the doorway.

“How did he do that?” Fanboy marvels.

Rooster’s FaceTime rings. In the mirror, he gives her a sheepish look before he accepts the call.

“Wait, who did Sash’s hair!” Gabby exclaims.

Natasha whips around from checking her profile. “Why do you have my sister’s number?”

Like a dog with a nose for trouble, Hangman pops up behind Rooster. “Yes, tell us, Rooster, why you have a pair of stunning sisters in your phone.”

Before a very stricken Rooster can answer, Gabby says cuttingly, “And you must be Bagman.” For the doubletake Hangman does as Fanboy howls behind his fist, Natasha will put up with her sister’s insistence on worming herself into Natasha’s life.

“Don’t believe everything your sister tells you about me,” Hangman replies with his charm dialed up to full blast.

“Well she didn’t lie about your looks.”

Natasha takes back any goodwill toward her sister when Hangman turns to her and lifts his eyebrows.

"Is that so?" he drawls.

And to her horror, she blushes.

Masterlist | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #phoenix x hangman #phoenix x rooster #hangman x phoenix #hannix #robert bob floyd #floyd family group chat #trace family call #natasha trace has a sister

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shisui-uchiha-anon · 1 year

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[invading the inbox with one message] If was so early on the training field that it was early, and Shisui's clever questions had derailed the spar into a conversation. All was as usual. "Shisui... when you judge Konoha's policies, remember Hanlon’s Razor–Never assume malice when incompetence will suffice as an explanation.” Then Orochimaru pulled the kunais from the treetrunk (someone had to do it), and tossed Shisui the wetstone to sharpen his kunais. Orochimaru continued: "That’s said, never forget Clark’s Law, either: Sufficiently advanced incompetence is indistinguishable from malice. There is a certain point at which ignorance becomes malice–at which there is simply no way to become or stay that ignorant except deliberately and maliciously."

"Is that a fancy way to excuse your own malice? For let's face it as much as I am grateful for your help, you didn't do you because you hold any love for me or empathy. I was just an experiment that happened to fall right into your hands."

He could remember that night, the rain the run the blood on his face the burning pain where once his eye was. He asked for help from a snake now he got it. In the years that came the Legendary Sannin trained and cared for Shisui. An immortal, switching bodies to cheat death, Amaterasu knows how old he really is. But ever since Shisui was his faithful shadow. Young Uchiha had nothing and no one to whom he would go back. Betrayed he partly could understand some of the things Orochimaru did or tried to teach him.

One thing is sure as Shisui was growing up he became more and more powerful his restored eye working perfectly with the old one. They would travel together from one hideout to the other. It was time Orochimaru gifted him the curse mark, watching with fascination how his flawless Uchiha genes fought to survive. In a day Shisui survived the agonizing pain of the snake bite, a black mark now decorating his left side of the neck.

"Sharp every single kunai you gave me, where is our next destination. Sitting and waiting makes me edgy. Why don't you let me face Sasuke just once to spook the shit out of him? He is just your toy, you just play around with him. You are curious about him like a child with a new toy, or a scientist with a new rat"

All Uchihas had this killing urge this sadistic part that wanted to poke fight and play with their opponent. Shisui knew his own abilities all too well~ and those given by the mark. When the mark would get triggered it would color the left side of his face the shoulder part of his chest, and his left arm. His skin would get this charcoal color, like scaled dying embers, and his one eye would go yellow with a snake pupil.

"Yes, I am listening not daydreaming. I understand all that is in the past, their fate is their own same as their malice. We are just spectators. Uchiha Shisui does not exist anymore...."

Said the curly nin following his teacher...

#asks #ask answered #thank you for the ask #shisui uchiha #uchihacollector #orochimaru #he talks and all this brat hears is hssssssss!#he will do better next time

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checkers-dance · 1 year

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HELLO CHECKERS. IM SO FUCKING SORRY. IM HERE AGAIN JVJFNVFNVJV. listen. whenever anything tragic happens to me i feel like i need to report back to you, its a tradition to me. anyway, this actually happened a few days ago but i was so emotionally distraught and so embarrassed of myself that i was avoiding telling you about it but here i am. im sorry to you and your followers for making u read this shit but i was going through an arc.

SO ANYWAY. after the lucas apparition my dear friend rebo became suddenly obsessed with what happened. you need to understand she's relatively normie, like, she knows abt the weird shit i get up to but she knew nothing abt the enceeteeverse, i think she was deliberately ignoring it for her sanity. but the lucas apparition devastated her and i think as some sort of coping mechanism she tried to find meaning to our shared trauma. so she was wondering. why did lucas choose us. what do we have in common. for some fucking reason she got the idea to combine our discord colors and she got lilac. she then googled lilac enceetee (IM TRYING NOT TO SAY THE ACTUAL NAME BC MY ASKS TO YOU SHOW ON SEARCHES AND IF ANY NORMAL PERSON SEES THIS I WILL DIE) and apparently they released A SPECIAL VERSION OF STICKER THAT WAS LILAC???? so my friend was determined. she decided to listen to the WHOLE ALBUM. i joined her eventually. our thoughts on the music are irrelevant, but what you need to know is that at some point we started looking for clues on the lyrics and if something reminded of us a song we would jump to that song and try to find a meaning to it. we called it the nct arg. this went on for A WHILE. eventually noxia and our friend lynx and joined us and we were all just fucking around deciphering the clues.

we got so into it. and at some point we did actually find what you could call a message if you want to, except it was in all in our heads. its such a good example of the way the brain searches for pattern.

after a long search, our clues lead us to this video. i can still remember the way we were all screaming at like 1am... you need to understand that at this point i was so invested in our made up story that for one small second it didn't compute that this was a a prank. like my heart dropped to my stomach vnjfvfnvjvnjv OBVIOUSLY I IMMEDIATELY REALIZED WHAT WAS GOING ON BUT THATS HOW FAR GONE I WAS...

so the rest of the night was us trying to figure out who the fuck made the video. i was so tired at this point, so while everyone was arguing i was just looking up dumb shit on youtube. and i thought haha wouldnt it be funny if i looked up "lucas horror game." so i did. checkers.... i found a game called LUCAS THE BASEMENT. I THINK THIS IS WHAT BROKE ME. IDK WHAT HAPPENED BUT THAT GENUINELY MADE ME SO UPSET??? I FELT SO OVERSTIMULATED AND IRRATIONALLY ANGRY, ITS VERY FUNNY LOOKING BACK BUT THE HORRORS FELT SO REAL... i calmed down. sort of. and then i keep looking up dumb shit, as if i hadn't just learned what that gets me. i looked up "lucas the hedgehog" bc idk i thought it sounded funny. the first fucking result had the word STICKER in it. THIS MADE ME FEEL WORSE. I WAS SO GENUINELY UPSET NVFJNVJFVN

eventually it was revealed that it was both noxia and lynx fucking with us. i was so tired, i just left call and went to bed. but you need to understand the distress was so real to me i genuinely didnt sleep well that night. like i woke up and it felt like i didnt sleep at all. THIS IS GOING TOO FAR, IM TIRED.

anyway. do NOT listen to encee fucking tee, it ruined my life, i want to escape. i keep seeing patterns everywhere. its consuming me. i cant remember when this was but one day a mutual saw me having an enceetee breakdown and said "im starting to genuinely feel bad for you" NOOOOO JFVNJFVNNFV. im ok. im fine. lucas isn't real.

Oh ghskfkskfks I forgot abt the asks showing up in searches based on keywords, rip. Every time I get another ask like this I think the lore can't get any worse AND THEN IT DOES. I can't believe they pranked u, that's so funny but so 😭😭. Also someone should make a meme out of this w the dominoes falling and the first step is becoming obsessed w the lucas in the basement jokes and we still haven't reached the last step. Anyway thank u for keeping me updated on this, at least ur pain and confusion had a purpose (sending me funny unhinged asks abt encetee shenanigans)

#asks

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kittenninja14 · 9 months

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Hey y'all!!

I was watching some Christian tiktoks on YouTube and I stumbled upon this.

I took a snapshot to show this to y'all because this hit me hard.

So I think we all have had some tough days in life. So the question asked many times is what do we do on those days?

I'm actually working on it.

One time, I was sobbing in the bathroom because it was such a challenging day. But God reminded me that these emotions and feelings aren't the truth. And Jesus has placed me FAR ABOVE them all (Ephesians 1: 19-21)

So what I am learning to do is 1) cast all these feelings and frustrations on God because he understands me completely. He know what I'm going through. And he not only knows, he cares about me. 2) I also am trying to have a constant awareness that I am seated far above these negative feelings.

One thing I have learned is that God made feelings so that we can enjoy life. Our feelings were never meant to control us but we controlling them. So I'm working on deliberately try to stay in the perfect peace which God has for me (Isaiah 26:3 AMPC)

But it's always easy to preach but living it is another thing altogether. I'm learning to slowly give it to Jesus. Because it's an exchange. You give Jesus your sorrows and he gives you his joy. (Isaiah 61:3 NIV) It's an EVERYDAY walk with him that we're living.

But with all of these things said, that does not mean that we ignore or bury our emotions. We should learn to feel our emotions but not be led by them. We as Christians are meant to walk in faith, not by our five senses. (2 Corinthians 5:7)

Jesus is a gentleman. He will never force himself upon you. He gives you a choice. And YOU get to choose. He is a good friend. He'll be right by your side through everything. I like this quote from the movie The Shack "sometimes in the pain, you lose sight of me [Jesus]" (paraphrase mine)

The best we can do is to slowly learn to trust him with everything. Slowly learn to give him our pains and sorrow. Because he'll never force peace on you. He gave us a choice: curse or blessing, death or life, and he gave us the answer "choose life" (Deut 11:26-28)

Now with all this being said, it's okay to cry!

Crying is a way we as humans release pain. Whether it be physical, emotional, etc. pain.

But instead of crying alone in a secluded place trying to get away from everything, cry to God. I think that many people are forgetting that God is our Father and our friend! And better yet, he's a GOOD Father (Psalms 103: 13) and a friend who sticks closer than a brother (Proverbs 18:24).

So no matter what is going on with your life, keep in mind that you are loved by an everlasting love (Jeremiah 31:3 AMP). And that no matter what, you are never alone (Deuteronomy 31:8)

And always remember that God loves you, I love you, and JESUS IS LORD!!! <333

-KN

(Feel free to message me, write a comment, or ask a question on my Tumblr account if you have any questions!

https://kittenninja14.tumblr.com/post/731916269075480576/hey-yall-i-just-found-this-incredible-video-and

#word of god #biblical scripture #encouragment #christian #christian faith #jesusislord #Jesus Cried Too #you are not alone #jesus is lord #comfort #KittenNinja14 #KN14 rambles

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inun4ki · 1 year

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死/// GUIDELINES.

✾ Mun

hello.!! call me taro. my pronouns are they/them, and i am 21+. i've been roleplaying off and on for many years. my waking life is busy, so i won't always be here. i have 5 pets (no cat-dog fights in this house) and a big family. i prefer writing original characters to canon characters. i live in ye olde us of a. there are two things in this world i can't live without: green tea, hot cheetos, and emotionally wrecked men. oh, and i'm nerdy as hell. if you have any questions or just wanna chat/plot, i'm always open.!!

✾ Blog

Content.

i don’t shy away from disturbing/gory/traumatic topics. i don’t see it as a moral failure to write it. however, i won’t write: minor/adult, graphic noncon, and incest outside of backstories and such.

all triggering content will be tagged as ’____ /’, and erotic content will be tagged as ‘nsft /’.

needless to say, this is a 18+ only blog. i will not interact with anyone under the age of 18, 21+ preferably.

the themes i will explore on this blog include suicidal ideation, murder, mass murder, multiple forms of abuse, mental health, personal growth, sacrifice, guilt, death, loss, toxic relationships, and more.

Posting.

all interactions are mutuals only.

i will take my time for serious threads. it may take me a few weeks from time to time to reply to a thread or answer an ask.

i tend towards multi-para, but will do one-liners or simpler, shorter threads.

i regularly delete my OOC posts.

i tend toward inbox memes, so you may see more of those than other things. it's really just because i like to write drabbles most of the time.

Communication.

i’m just a little bit on the awkward & shy side and may have a hard time reaching out for plotting. what i do to mitigate this is generally interact with posts and send in icebreaker asks.

i’ll also reblog plenty of memes, post starter & inbox calls, and my interest check so that there’re always opportunities to get things going.

i love love love to talk about mashing our muses together, so even though it can be hard for me at first, i’m always down to chat

if there's an occasion i don't respond to a message, it's usually because i've fallen asleep, got hella distracted, forgot, am hyperfocused on replies, having health problems, etc. it's never deliberate. please feel free to nudge me.

Shipping.

i love to ship, honestly. i am always down. if you think our muses would mesh well, by all means - please come yell at me! i probably ship it already anyway.

communication but mostly chemistry are needed for romantic shipping, as kaede is a bit of a pain when it comes to this - he’s only easy sometimes, and really the only way for him to 'love' your muse would be if they're just as obsessed with him as he is them.

there are a couple of things i do not consider shipping right off the bat. flirting isn't shipping. hell, i don't even think our muses boning a couple times is shipping. i don't consider it a ship unless we talk about it, basically.

toxic ships are super welcome!

i do not ship minor/adult, except platonically as mentor-student or family.

every ship is in its own universe, disconnected from all others, and i do not treat any one ship as more important than another.

Verses.

this blog is multiverse (working on the page), though jujutsu kaisen will be the primary.

i’m happily oc, crossover, au, and canon friendly, so if you want to do things in a different verse, i’ll make one if i don’t have one already!

Godmodding.

so long as we talk about it before hand or it advances the thread, i don’t particularly care about godmodding or powerplaying. it just has to make sense for our plot.

kaede is strong, but there are others who are stronger - and crueler - and i won’t ignore that if the power scale is such. your muse can overpower mine? dope, they should, actually! besides, he’s a dex build. he’ll put up a good fight, but he’ll probably lose.

Drama/News/Triggers.

i block tags/posts.

if there’s something i don’t want to see, i will simply not see it, no matter what it is, be it the news, internet beef, or things that make me feel like ass for one reason or another. i don’t engage with any of that stuff; i have a personal blog for that sorta thing.

also, i do not have any written triggers & no tumblr post is going to send me down a spiral. i’ve been through a lot, but i’m a ‘power through it’ type, so even if i do see something, it’s ultimately whatever.

Kaede.

this is a small disclaimer.

i’m not caught up to the manga by any means, so there may be some things i don’t know or will get wrong - please let me know if something doesn’t gel quite right.

please note that i put him together carefully so he wouldn’t interfere much with jjk’s main plot, though i’d be happy to plot something out.

as kaede will ever be a work in progress, his about page is subject to change. all abilities and techniques are accumulative and an attempt at originality

i will apologize in advance for kaede being a complete brat at times, as he is a bit emotionally stunted and struggles particularly hard with forming solid relationships, be they platonic or otherwise. there's a lot of fear there for him.

Inunaki.

you’ll see mentioned in a few places something called ‘the inunaki incident’. it’s about the mid-point of kaede’s personal storyline, and is a hefty bit of mixed character development i’m saving for a later date - fair warning: i’m a big fan of tragedies. i do have a posted timeline for his life (mostly just summaries), and i will be going over parts of it in the future. ultimately, the plan is to answer the questions: do i have the strength to keep going anyway? is my sacrifice worth the consequence? was this unavoidable, or could i have done something to change it? how much guilt and responsibility can one person assume before it utterly destroys them? i have fun seeing how many different ways i can answer them.

Credits.

i like to draw, sometimes a lot - but i am notoriously horrendous with most poses, so i end up using/relying on references - which i very ardently do not claim as my own. some poses i reference belong to kate-fox on dA, however i also use personal photographic references (pictures i’ve taken myself), anime/video game screenshots, and, on occasion, porn, as i cannot draw the human body or faces from memory (combined visual processing + memory issue). where i can afford it, however, i do commission artists instead - in fact, i much prefer it. all graphics were arranged by myself; likewise, kaede’s faceclaim belongs strictly to mangaka yanase seno. i also have commissioned art of him done by @okaerin, which serves as my current dash icon! icon borders by @paletterph

#please let me know if you have any questions!

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ohthemis · 2 years

Note

Hey I don't know if you're taking requests, if not then please ignore this ask :)

Can I request a scenario where the tot men forget their s/o birthday due to being busy with work? Maybe angst to fluff? It was my birthday today and no one besides my mom and sister remembered so I'm a bit down

Love your writing and keep up the great work :D

tot boys and forgetting your birthday

characters: artem wing, marius von hagen a/n: this is soooo late, but if you’re reading this, i hope that looking back, you still enjoyed ur birthday <3 super belated birthday from me, anon

ARTEM WING

you absentmindedly press the power button on your phone, once again checking for notifications. you’re greeted by celestine’s name, followed by kiki’s, then captain morgan’s rather short but nonetheless, meaningful, message. even kanon’s message appeared not too long ago. “happy birthday to the best legal consultant!” his happy message reads.

despite all the cheerful messages that have popped up anywhere between 12:00AM last night to a few hours ago, you can’t bring yourself to check the message, or even clear them out of your notifications. the stinging ache of the fact that artem had forgotten.

you swipe up, unlock your phone, and give him a call. it’s 6:00, he should be on his way home since most of your cases are already or almost are on the process of being cleared up. “mc? i’m on my way home, love.” he’s smiling at you, not a single sign of guilt or anger or anything that might make you think it was deliberate. you think that your birthday just slipping his head might actually be worse.

it’s silent for a while, and when he looks at you, his heart feels a pang at your crumbling face. “mc? what’s wrong?”

“do you know why i had a day off today? or did you forget that too?”

silence.

the calm.

then followed the storm.

“i am so sorry. i’m on my way home. i’ll take you out tonight, alright? i’m so sorry, mc. a client called and i’ve been driving back and forth from the firm to wherever and-, i am so sorry.”

you nod because you’re not sure he'll even understand what you’d say between your teary babbling and muffled sniffles.

“i’ll be home soon. i love you, ok? and happy birthday, love.”

then followed a night of good food, good company, and heartfelt apologies.

MARIUS VON HAGEN

“marius,” you hiss under your breath, “where are you?”

“no need to sound so mad, jiejie! i’m just finishing up here, i’ll be home soon.”

“home? marius-,” you take a sharp breath, “marius, what do you mean you’ll be home soon?”

“uh...should i not drive home?”

you hang up. you’re in a dress HE got for you, sitting on a table HE reserved, and all you wanted was for him to show up. so much for “i’ll make this the perfect day”.

but if there’s one thing you know, you’re not going to let that ruin this moment. if he forgets, that doesn’t mean you can’t still enjoy your day. you order and eat. because hell, nothing was going to stop you from claiming what was rightfully yours. a good fucking dinner, even if it was without your good fucking boyfriend.

you storm in your shared home, marius jumping from his seat on the couch. “are you mad?”

“check the date today, marius.”

maybe he just didn’t feel like it, or maybe it was the unbridled rage in your voice but he does as you say without any further questions. he visibly pales, “oh.”

“yeah. oh.”

“something came up, i-”

“don’t even bother marius. it’s my birthday and you’re not ruining this for me twice.”

“mc, i’m so sorry.”

“let’s talk tomorrow, yeah? good night.” you don’t wait for his response before heading up the stairs.

“good night, i love you.”

“not right now, marius.”

later that night, you’ll feel the bed behind you sinking as marius gently slips in, and if you hear a few stray “i’m sorry”s and “i love you”s, marius can just wonder why you’re in a substantially better mood in the morning.

#tot #tot x reader #Tears of Themis #tears of themis x reader #artem x reader #artem wing #tears of themis artem #zuo ran #zuo ran x reader #marius x reader #marius von hagen #tears of themis marius #lu jinghe #lu jinghe x reader

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bloodycassian · 3 years

Text

Tender - Azriel x reader - Pregnancy fic. Fem! reader. LONG!!!

Prompt - Hi! I just read most of your imagines, and i loved them! You have me as your faithful follower, I don't comment much because English is not my first language. Could you write one where az manages to perceive that reader is pregnant right in the middle of the war?

You woke to yelling. Not screaming. Not fear or pain, but battle cries that you'd grown to love. They made your blood sing in harmony with the Illyrian voices. It made your heart hammer in your chest, and your muscles tense - ready to fight. Azriel groaned beside you, curling around your waist like a vise. You managed to break free from his muscled arms. Pale light shining through the tent tinted his shadows a light gray. They wrapped around you, drawing a chill down your spine. The war cries grew louder. "Get up. It's time." You shook him, pulling on your light armor. He covered his face with his hands, and did not leave the cot. He groaned again when you pulled the blanket off his mostly naked body. He was never a morning person. Cassian rushed in when you were putting the last of your gear on, and Az froze. His grip on his pants went white knuckled. Cassian's face was pale, and before he could say anything Azriel was hurriedly pulling on the rest of his clothes. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the Warlord. "It's a diversion." You said, voice hollow. Cassian's slight nod was enough to make the breath leave you. "It's going to be fine." Azriel grunted, pulling his tunic over his head. "We just need to move the troops. Get Rhys here." He waved a hand at his brother dismissively. Cassian grabbed Az's wrist. He forced the male to look at him, to see his worried eyes. You tensed, ready to defend your mate even against Cassian's might. "Rhys is on the battlefield already. We're on our own." His voice was low, and the warning in his eyes was enough to make the hair on your arms raise. Azriel pulled away from him, slowly. He began strapping his weapons belts on, pushed his hair back and sighed. "Where do you need us?" The air was cold, and the howls of battle echoed across the hills. Azriel's shadows curled around your legs, comforting. Then they slithered their way across the valley where the battle was beginning. + You could barely raise your sword by the end of it. The mud had been the most challenging part of the entire fight. The enemy horses had done a good job of making obstacles when they fell in the mud, lame with broken ankles and necks. You wished to put them out of their misery, but there was no time. The forces seemed to come in waves. Like a test against your small unit. Few were lost from your side. The dewey grass steamed in the morning light, carrying up the reek of enemy blood with it. You wiped your face, trying to get the taste of dirt and blood out of your mouth. Sharp stinging pain seared your ribs under your arm. You hissed. Then, you felt the warmth of your own blood. You swore, and looked for a medic that wasn't tending to wounded on the ground. Some Illyrian bodies were being lifted away, high into the air for burial at their homes. You dared not take a healer away from more critically injured soldiers. You nodded grimly to the ones that you passed. They were covered in blood, and yet still gave you fierce grins when you went by. They respected you. More than any other Illyrian Female before you. It was sad, but you hoped to forge a new path for other females of Illyria. You held an arm under your side and limped your way out of the mud. The packed mess inside your boots made moving your feet hard. You couldn't wait to shower. You spotted Cassian far down the field, and watched as he raised his sword high over his head. Your stomach twisted in pity for the suffering animal under him. You looked away before you could see the lifeblood drain from the horse's neck. He sent a blessing to the Mother for the animal, and continued on to the next suffering soul that would meet its end via his blade. + You hadn't seen her in a long while. Too long for a friend, but she gave you that same look she always did when she saw you hobbling up to her for help. Jeva was your favorite healer, and one you knew could keep a secret. She was round, and her voice was light and comforting. She smelled of nutmeg and berries. Something you had appreciated about her since you had met. "What is it this time?" She waved you inside, holding the tent flap open for you while you dumped your battle stained gear on the wood hutch beside the entrance. The tent was light and airy, filled with small plants of different varieties and cluttered with boxes and books everywhere. Her desk and bed were shoved to the corner, and a long wood table took up the majority of her area. As if she had known you were coming, she already had potions of different types laid out on the end of the table. "Probably nothing." You said, pulling off your armor as gingerly as you could manage. The soft light flickered and changed to a harsh beam when she laid you down on her exam table. "I'm not supposed to be healing anymore you know. I'm retired." She clicked her tongue at you, earning a pained grin. It was hard for you to bother a healer for any amount of time for something that you were sure was so small. But something about it stung too much for it to be just a scrape. And you knew Cassian would lecture you about it being infected if he saw through your mask to the pain. Az would force you to see one anyway as soon as he learned of it. "You know I wouldnt be here unless I had to be, Jeva." You said through your teeth as she cut away your muddied undershirt. "Oh, I know. That's why I have my best potions ready." She laughed, then paused. Your shirt lay limp on the table. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight of your open wound. "Is it bad?" You asked, craning to try to look for yourself. She held you down. "Metal. Fragments are still in here, likely why it hasn't healed yet." You relaxed at that, grateful that it wasn't worse. "Thank the Mother. Az would have yelled all night." You rolled your eyes, and sighed as she started working on you. The first part was always the worst. The stinging hot potion that made the nerves around the wound numb. "One-" She began her countdown, then poured. You growled at her, gripping the end of the stained table hard enough to crack. "Easy..." She warned, and smoothed down your hair. She knew how to take care of her patients, that was certain. You relaxed as the stinging eased. The dull ache that it left behind turned into a bad memory. "I'm going to extract the blade then we can close you up. Simple and easy." She picked up her tools and began tugging away at your side. You could have fallen asleep with the relief the numbing potion brought. And with her humming in the air around you, it was a struggle not to. The time seemed to pass quickly, but when the clank of the metal tools jolted you from your dozing, the tent was lit in orange from the sunset outside. "Relax, we're going to close it up now. Once the potion wears off you will still be sensitive." She placed her hands over you, and the familiar warm vibrations of her healing magic set in. Then it stopped abruptly. You cracked open an eye, then narrowed your brows at her. "What is it?" You said gently, then again when she didnt reply. She stared at you, mouth agape. Her eyes locked to yours, even when you sat up to demand she tell you what the problem was. "Am I dying?!" you took her hand gently, in case she was going to push you away. Then she started laughing, her hand gripping yours back. The warmth glowed in your palm, the light radiating out from it was starkly contrasting the tent walls bedecked in orange. The light she emitted shot through you, and you felt the wound tingle, and seal. You stared at her in shock. That amount of healing power was incredible. Especially for field medics. "Youre not dying, no..." She waved a hand, fanning herself. Her eyes were glassy with tears. She sniffed and clutched your hand tighter. "Quite the opposite, darling." She pulled you in for a warm hug. + You spent the rest of the evening with Jeva. Until she got a hurried message about student healers needing help on the battlefield. You stayed in her tent as long as you could manage with the ringing in your ears. You stared and stared at the mirror across from you, showing you the bloodied warrior that you wanted to be. That you wanted to stay. The warrior that carried the Shadowsinger's child. The thought made tears sting your eyes. You refused to let them fall. You had been ignoring his tugs down the bond for well over an hour. You knew he was concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to shout back down. The only thing that echoed in your mind were Jeva's words "You're pregnant..." Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. You nearly punched her when she told you she wasn't joking. The only reason you even believed her was because of that powerful zap of healing she sent to you. That she sent to scan your body and make sure the fetus was okay before you even knew about it. You could barely hear half the words she said as she told you your options. You roiled with the thought now. The Mugwart she left on the table was daunting. You desperately wanted her back. Jeva would be able to deliberate with you. You knew she would tell you to do whatever makes you happy. You knew that. But you wondered how ethical the choice that made you happy was. Bringing a child into a world of war seemed cruel. Even if it made you happy. You distantly noticed Azriel as you passed him, walking to the forest edge just passed your tent. Worry laced the bond between you. You tried not to show anything back. But you knew he felt the tension, the void there. "Where the hell have you been?!" Azriel's eyes were furious when you passed him, his wings flared out slightly. You couldnt even look at him with anger back. Your emotions ran wild. You were frozen, and as numb as the potion Jeva had given you when she began removing the blade. "Do you know how worried I have been?! I sent Cassian to-" He tried to grab for your hand to stop you, but you flicked him away. He stopped for a moment, stunned. Then returned with more energy than before. That yawning abyss in your bond was growing darker with shame, worry and anxiety. His shadows roiled around him as he caught up. "You dont get to-" "Azriel..." You stopped in the edge of the clearing. The small meadow was silent in the darkness, not even the monsters of Prythian dared roar tonight. Your mind did all the roaring you could handle, anyway. You tried to focus on the swaying grass, on the soft smell of wet bark and pine hanging in the air. "Dont try to excuse this I need to know you're okay and-" He stormed in front of you, ready to burst with rage. His fear always made him angry. And for good reason after losing so many close to him. A tear ran down your cheek, your face burned hot with hundreds of feelings at once. Fear, pain, shock, joy, hope.... elation. You wanted his children. You wanted to help raise his child. You wanted to see Azriel be a father. You knew he would be the best damn Illyrian father there had ever been. The thought hit you like a well placed punch. He saw your paleness, your tears and stopped his yelling. You fell to your knees, the mud splattering all around you. You wanted to lay down. Lay down and think about the implications of carrying his child. Would it be good for the baby to be born at all? Just because you wanted it didnt mean it needed to happen. You knew that Jeva would give you a potion to extract it without hesitation if it was what you wished. "I'm-" You choked out, fighting the panic that flooded you. Your mind roiled with the conflict of your mind and heart. It turned you into a muddied, dark ocean on the bond. A turmoil that he couldn't see past. If you were an ocean, he was your lighthouse on the cliffside. Signaling you home. His eyes darted to your body, to your hands and how they wrung together in front of you. "I'm sorry. I just-" He sighed and took one of your hands. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of it and brought his forehead to yours. He normally needed a lot longer to cool down after a fight, but seeing you in tears shocked him out of his pride. "I shouldn't have said that... I know you can take care of yourself." his voice was low, and he ran a hand comfortingly down your back. A hysteric laugh bubbled from your throat. It sounded like a sob. You didn't know exactly which it was. He sat back and pulled you into his lap, despite the grass being dewey and damp. He rocked you there for a few seconds before you had to tell him. Before he could be too close if he didnt want you anymore. The doubt crept into your head, and the nerves ate at you. Your heart raced, you could feel it in your neck. "Azriel..stop." You pushed away from him, to catch his beautiful dark eyes. They were painted in a silver hue by the moon above. You took in his face, the curve of his cheeks and lips for possibly the last time. You had to consider the worst possible outcome. You braced yourself for the rejection, for the pain of his reaction. You knew it had to come out. You knew you had to say it now or you never would. Your stomach flipped over and over. You opened your mouth, a soft sob wracking out of you before you began. He froze. Went utterly still, his shadows even stopping for a second before whirling faster than before. Your eyes went wide. His nose flared, eyes narrowed. He held you closer, sniffing at your neck. He pulled back and his eyes were even wider than before. His mouth fell open when you nodded. "I'm-" "Youre-" his face went through a whirlwind of different emotion. Then, he broke out into a small laugh. He couldn't stop. You felt the tears running down your cheeks and didnt bother to wipe them away. "Honey... I'm sorry." He stopped laughing suddenly. "What do you want to do?" His eyes were masked, his expression the most serious you'd ever seen him. His aura on your bond seemed to go completely gray and still, as if he didn't want you to see him. He masked everything. In preparation for whatever you decide. The gesture made your heart squeeze in appreciation. You stammered, resting your forehead on his. "I dont know." You muttered, voice cracking. Then, he was wrapping his arms around you in a smothering hug. When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. The hands that had seen so much cruelty in his life. The possibilities of the same thing happening to your child made your heart race. "I'm here for whatever decision you make." He brushed your cheek with a thumb. You nodded and let him hold you like that for a while. Quietly rocking back and forth with you in his lap. + You were near falling asleep when the war cries rang out again. Illyrians howling for their leaders to join them. Another onslaught of death coming their way. The calls were distant, but Azriel tensed the second he heard them. Your blood went cold. He buried his face to your chest, as if he wished he could hide there. "I'm not going." He said when you tried pushing him away. "I wont leave you." He promised, locking his muscled forearms around you. The echoes of battle cries faded. He stroked your hair, and traced his fingers along your back. Then he swore. "Let me take care of this." He said, voice edged with anger. Nerves pricked at your stomach, but you stood, wobbling on your feet slightly. He took off into the night sky painted in silvers and blues by the full moon. Then came racing back down right behind Rhys. the high lord took one breath and then he was hugging his brother. Azriel shoved him off, and they shot into the night sky. Well, Azriel did. He dragged Rhys with him. Grunts of pain and fleshy sounds of punching rang out. You followed them high into the air where they had their conversation. Your wings led you around them with ease. "Stop fighting and use your words, boys." You warned. You recognized Azriels growl and smiled to yourself as they broke apart. Rhys adjusted his tunic and cleared his throat. "I need you there. Cassian is handling the Western front, the others need a leader." Azriel began protesting against the high lord. "I cant with my mate-" "I know it feels impossible right now but-" "I will not, Rhys-" You set your jaw. If they wanted to fight over if you needed protection or not, you would take the option off the table all together. "I'll go." you said, voice strong since hearing Jeva announce what grew inside you. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. You shoved the thoughts away as far as you could. They both turned to you, horror striking Azriels features. "Absolutely not. No." Heat and rage flared down the bond. It made you want to defy everything he said. You locked eyes with him and glared. Rhys glanced between you with tense shoulders. He cleared his throat. "It would be a good compromise, Azriel. You can go together to the Eastern front. Think about it." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave him a grim smile. "I wont say a word." He said, summoning the darkness around him then winnowing away. Azriel's cold eyes made him look like a statue. "Let's go." He said, and started circling lower. Back to the meadow. "I'm going, you cant stop me from following you." You said, expecting a fight. He said nothing. You were met with that silence that drove others crazy tryin to find out what he wanted from them. The bond seemed to snap taut, then go into a relaxed state. He was hiding. You knew it, but would rather have silence and peace than him trying to fight you again. He walked you back to the tent, and exhaustion took you under before you could remember him laying down with you. You hoped it it was exhaustion, and not whatever the baby was doing to you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't resist the urge to cradle your belly while you slept. There was no bump, but it felt like the most natural thing to do now that you were aware of the being inside you. You slept hard, and awoke to the breakfast bell chiming. The sounds of slow footsteps marching through the mud kept you awake. Azriel was gone, but the candle on the table was lit. A note lay there waiting for you. His messy scrawl made you smile, the familiarity of his writing reminded you of the notes he would leave you when he had to leave early for meetings with Rhys. "Back by nightfall, lover. A guard is at the tent, ask her to bring you anything you need. -A" You peeked outside the tent to see Jeva there, her long fur coat shimmering in the morning light. Her breath clouded in front of her when she gave you a soft smile. "Good morning." She pulled a muffin from her coat. "Your favorite." She winked, and you pulled her inside. She had a fire roaring by the time you finished your food. "How are you not freezing?" She complained, blowing into her hands to keep them warm. You brushed the crumbs from your shirt and really took into account the changes you'd noticed lately. How hungry you'd been, how tired after the easiest days. "Do you know... How um..." You gestured to your stomach. She gave a small smile and nodded. "Only a month or so." She said quietly. You stared at your stomach, as if waiting for something to answer you. To give some sort of affirmation that Jeva was right. She continued warming herself by the fire, and soon the tent was filled with her warm chestnut smell. Cassian entered the tent when you were starting to doze off again. The wool blanket on your lap reminded you of a time when you first met Az. Your heart squeezed at the memory of those long nights shared together by a fire. Taking your turns on watch duty. You shook yourself from the memory. Cassian froze. His face scrunched up at the sight of you. The scent, you realised. You swore to yourself, and Jeva only nodded when he looked to her. "Youre pregnant?" He asked breathlessly, and you could smell the fear and excitement coming from him. In fact, you could smell the smoked meat on his breath. And the cold air that clung to him from outside. It was refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day amid the dry heat inside the tent. "I'm sorry, I shouldnt have.." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain focused. "Its okay, Cass. What's going on? Az left me this note." You handed it to him. His lips moved as he read it. He went white as bone. Your stomach dropped. + Azriel had gone in the night to take out the entire eastern flank with a small group of Illyrians. You felt your world skittering away as Cassian told you. Your vision went blurry, and tears fell, dripping on your hands that clenched the wool blanket. "He's on his way here now. He had to answer to Rhys first." Cassian waited for you to say anything. But your lips just couldnt form the words. The hurt, anger... the betrayal you felt for him going to battle without you. And defying a direct order from his high lord like a fool. "I suggest you leave before Azriel comes back. It may get messy." Jeva spoke for you, and you were grateful. You gave Cassian a nod of thanks before he turned and left. The cold wind that blew in from the door gave you goosebumps. "Take it easy, you dont want to be too stressed." Jeva handed you a mug of tea and gave you a small squeeze. You could smell Azriel before he entered. Jeva shot him a glare, but said nothing. "I'll be in my tent if you need me." She promised, gave you a look that said 'find me after' and left. Azriel took off his armor plates one by one. A bit too slowly to be considered normal. Stalling. You said nothing. You let the tension roil out of you, let it hit him down the bond. Like a wave getting ready to break. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his wings. The mask he wore cracked when he saw your fists balled in the blanket. "I couldnt risk you... or the babe." He tried to hide the fear that shone through. The fear of his mate or child being hurt in battle. He wouldnt be able to stand it. The fight was needed, anyway. He needed to get out his instincts to protect protect protect. You said nothing. You let that looming wave grow larger. He sighed, and sat at the end of the cot beside you. "I'm sorry. I needed....I needed to get my head straight. I should have told you. I'm sorry." That wave crashed, not on him though. Internally, guilt and fear melting in on yourself. "I cant lose you, we... We cant." You said through your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that begged to spill over. He tried his best to hold back his surprise. "We?" He asked, a small smile playing on his full lips. You gave him a grim smile. "If you're...ready to be a father. I like imagining you, with my child." "Our child." He said with a bubbling laugh. You laughed with him, and it turned to hysterics. He wiped tears from the corner of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby?" He cradled your face, looking into your eyes. You took one of his hands, and placed it on your flat belly. "Yes. We are." You said, voice quivering. He wrapped you into a hug, and you cried together in the cot.

#acotar #acotar fic #reader x azriel #azriel x reader #azriel

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xxxrubytuesdayxxx · 3 years

Text

“What are you doing in my bed?”

Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Fluffy angst and a bit of smut towards the end

Word Count: 7,294

Concept: Kim Hongjoong doesn’t want to be a virgin anymore and he’s determined to get his way, even if it involves sneaking into your bedroom between tasks.

Credits to a few prompt-lists I found trawling the internet, but I lost the links, I’m sorry :( If you recognise any, please let me know and I will do proper credits x

Masterlist

“This was a terrible, terrible idea,” you think to yourself, as you survey the ‘damage’ in the dorm. Oh there’s nothing wrong with the state of the rooms - it’s the state of the boys themselves. Because of course what the company set up as a cooking and eating game for a V Live descended into a drinking game the minute the main staff left. Yet it’s actually surprisingly easy to chase the younger ones off to bed. Which just leaves the eldest two: long-legged, sweet but slightly tipsy Seonghwa and their petite, treacherously-pretty but definitely-plastered leader Hong-Joong. Sizing up the levels of intoxication and seniority, You decide to tackle the slightly younger leader first.

“Bed, Hong-Joong!” you attempt, mustering up what you hope is a convincing ‘eomma’ vibe. Apparently you’re not very convincing though because he just squeals and bats you away.

“Ani! I’m leader! No bed!” he objects. “Anyway, I’m want to annoy Seonghwa first,” he announces, in endearingly grammatically-incorrect English, complete with a mischievous smile, before darting out of your reach and perching himself on the arm of the couch to watch his hyung record a ‘cute’ wake-up message for ATINY.

“I will show you the cute version,” Seonghwa tells his leader dutifully, cue card in hand, before turning towards the one waiting camera.

“Ani, I don’t want to see!!” wails Hong-Joong dramatically, collapsing off the arm of the couch onto the seat itself in apparent agony, with his eyes squeezed shut. “Argh! Jebal!” he yells, clearly determined to be a massive brat about poor Seonghwa’s task. He then proceeds to make ridiculous high-pitched noises while Seonghwa reads his message out, until Seonghwa cuts him off with a soft reprimand, knowing only he can use banmal with his leader: “Ah, keep quiet.” Hong-Joong obediently stops making noises, but then smirks unrepentantly when the older boy laughs at himself and stops the reading before screaming in frustration, himself, at the difficulty of his recording, making the now-quiet Hong-Joong snicker.

“Argh! I can’t do this!” Seonghwa laments. Noting that Hong-Joong has calmed down, he decides to ask him for some feedback on the instructions:

“What’s the difference between sexy and sensuous?” This gets Hong-Joong’s attention.

“Sexy? Ah, you don’t know?” he replies, springing up off the couch with drunken bravado, ready to show his hyung how it’s done. He staggers over to a very confused Seonghwa, who looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or worry.

“Sexy is...just...you see it…” he babbles meaninglessly. “This is sexy, this is sexy. If it’s sensuous...when you see it…” then gives him a somewhat-mystifying rendition of ‘sexy’ and mumbles "that's what I mean" before drifting out of the room and towards the stairs to their bedrooms, singing to himself. Seonghwa just stares after him, at a loss, then returns to his recording in peace. You give the older boy an encouraging smile, figuring he’s probably still sober enough to get himself up to bed, and then venture up to check on Hong-Joong. Only he’s not in his bedroom.

Sighing to yourself, you check the other boys’ rooms but then have to conclude that he’s in the bathroom, and there’s not much you can do there, except knock and call out to him if he’s still not out in ten minutes. So you head to your room, intending to get changed and prepare for bed. Only when you swing the door open, Hong-Joong is sprawled on his back, still fully dressed, in your bed - under the covers. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Excuse me, Hong-Joong? What are you doing in my bed?” you ask him, exasperatedly.

“I will try to seduce you, noona,” he tells you, in his adorably-accented, slightly off-kilter English, lovely long eyelashes fluttering coyly, as he sits up.

“Wha-I mean what…?” you stammer, assuming he’s just got his words tangled again. “Seduce?” You’re desperately trying to think of a plausible alternative, but your mind is drawing a blank from panic. Admittedly nothing innocent fits this scenario.

“Eung - yuhokhaeyo,” he affirms, nodding cutely.

“Um...you’re drunk, sweetheart,” you tell him, sitting tentatively by his side and patting his shoulder soothingly. You want to have misinterpreted him nearly as much as you want to take him up on his offer, but, despite his avowed attempt to ‘tempt’ you, in Korean parlance, you resist. He pouts a little and flings himself back onto his back, eyes fluttering shut again.

“Chwihaji anassoyo~~” [I’m not drunk] he whines, before switching back to English, frustrated at being misunderstood, as he sees it. “I just want...have sex with someone," he tries.

“Probably not the best time to have sex, really,” you point out, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing, as you don’t want to embarrass him or indeed give yourself away. He sits up suddenly, opens his eyes and fixes you with an intense stare. You falter, blush and lower your own eyes, but he puts a finger under your chin and gently lifts your face to look in your eyes.

“Will you...reconsider...if I am...sober?” he asks you, carefully, still in English.

“I don’t...I mean it’s probably not a great idea, tiger,” you caution him. “Wait though...are you...what are you saying...exactly?” you correct yourself, suddenly noticing that his cheeks are flushed almost the same shade as his strawberry-bangs and his eyes are avidly studying your duvet. He hums nervously, smoothing the duvet with his hand, but doesn’t answer or even look up at you. The realization hits you as all the pieces come together. “Chyeonyo-ye-yo?” [Are you a virgin?] you ask him softly, not wanting to embarrass him either way. He nods shyly, keeping his head and eyes down and pulling at a loose thread on the duvet as his cheeks flush even hotter.

“Wow...I mean...wow,” you falter. “I’m sorry honey, I really didn’t know,” you reassure him, slipping your hand under his, on the cover, with your palm facing up. After a moment, his fingers curl tentatively around your hand and you feel a shiver of desire run through you. “Well...um...maybe we can wait until you’ve sobered up and then we can try and find you...I mean find a way to help you get...um...erm...laid,” you finish awkwardly, feeling like his innocence is being violated by the very thought of it. But then you remember he was the one who asked, so perhaps he’s not that innocent - at least of lustful thoughts.

“Laid?” he asks you now, reigniting your reluctance to contact one of the professionals the company usually engages for this kind of service.

“Er...laid is a slang term for...for um…” you stall.

“Sex?” Hong-Joong chirps brightly, looking pleased with himself and finally catching your eye, now that he feels he has something to be pleased with himself about - his English ability.

“Yeah, sex,” you admit reluctantly. “Look, Joong, are you sure about this?” you ask him.

“Ne,” he whispers, leaning towards you expectantly and closing his eyes again.

“Wow! No, no, no!” you deter him, hurriedly, gently moving him back against the headboard of your bed. “No, I meant are you sure you want me to find someone to have sex with you?” He pouts and opens his eyes - this time holding your gaze.

“I want,” he hesitates, checking your eyes, “to...to?” You nod, assuming he’s just checking his grammar. “I want to have sex with you, noona. Right now,” he tells you firmly, nodding for emphasis. You’re already shaking your head, but you stand up and pull him up with you to add some weight to your refusal of this proposal.

“No. You’re not losing your virginity when you’ve been drinking and might regret it tomorrow - or possibly not even remember it, from the looks of you,” you tease him gently. “C’mon - come back to your room and get some sleep.” He shakes his head vehemently, tossing his hair petulantly and stamps his foot.

“Kiseu-haejwo~~” [Kiss me] he whines, stubbornly refusing to move when you tug at his arm.

“It’s not happening, honey,” you sigh.

“But you call me honey,” he persists, tossing his hair away from his eyes to wink at you provocatively, and sticking his tongue out for good measure.

“Yeah. I did,” you admit, sighing again at his persistence. “But it’s just a general term of endearment, like...sweetheart.”

“Call me jagiya,” he flirts, deliberately fluttering his amazing eyelashes at you.

“Kim Hong-Joong!” you warn him in a furious whisper. He ignores you, quickly grabs your chin in both of his hands and presses his lips to yours before you can stop him. Startled, you just let him kiss you, until he teases your lips open and slips his tongue into your mouth.

“No-no-no-no-no! Bad, bad, boy!” you tell him firmly, pushing him away with both hands. He just giggles and tries again, but this time you’re ready for him and put your hand against his chest to keep him back. “Right. Bed! Right now...go!” you stammer, fumbling your words as you try to stop yourself from shaking...or wanting to feel his lips on yours again. He smirks, grabs you around the waist this time and slams you up against the wall to kiss you again. This time with no prelude, just straight up making out. You hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then push him away again.

He stops but only to lick his own lip experimentally. “Mm...you taste like fucking candy,” he teases you, with another wink, moving back in for the kill.

“What are you doing?!” you demand, stopping him again. “Behave! You’ll get me fired!”

“I won’t!” he pouts.

“You most certainly will,” you correct him. “If there was a camera in my room, I’d be packing my bags already.”

“Really?” he asks, looking genuinely worried this time. You nod fervently. “Staff have to sign contracts as well, you know,” you explain. “I’m sorry, honey. Look, let’s get you back to your room before the others start looking for you to finish that mission, okay? He gives you a resentful, sulky look, but obediently exits your room, where you hear his dainty footsteps padding across to his bedroom and his door open and close, just before Seonghwa comes up the stairs looking for him. Trying not to panic at how close that was, you peel your clothes off and start to prepare for bed.

*************************************************

So you really shouldn’t be surprised when he endeavours to make your job incredibly difficult the next day. Seems, contrary to the saying, hell hath no fury like a kpop idol scorned. Worse, you already have to explain the day’s schedule to eight boys in various stages of hangover hell. Fortunately, in most cases it’s more a matter of keeping them awake and attentive, but Hong-Joong’s idea of revenge is yelling things and making distracting noises throughout the entire meeting. By the time you’re on the last round of explanations and he starts to object, you throw caution to the wind and slap your hand straight over his pretty mouth.

“If you interrupt me one more time, Hong-Joong, so help me God...” you warn him, through clenched teeth. He watches you fake-innocently over your hand, while the others come around long enough to snicker conspiratorially at the sight of their leader being chastised. You remove your hand, but continue giving him a warning look, then finish explaining the schedule and shoo them all into hair and makeup, overriding their pleading cries of ‘feeling sick’ and ‘wanting to go back to bed’ with the reminder that they got themselves into this mess, and that tomorrow is a free day, so they only need to keep it together for the rest of today before they’ll win a break.

They’re filing dutifully out of the cars, having had the luxury of a camera-less ride to the studio, Hong-Joong looking very pleased with his freshly-dyed bright blue bangs, when San and Wooyoung decide to accost you.

“What is it, Wooyoung?” you ask, eyeing a grinning San off suspiciously.

“Hong-Joong-hyung is want to have sex with you, noona” the younger boy informs you smugly, in halting English. San nods sagely, confirming this apparently hot tip. You close your eyes and sigh exasperatedly, trying not to show them that either a) you know this or b) you’re equally problematically attracted to their leader.

“Okay even if he did...which I doubt,” you begin, keeping your voice calm with difficulty. “Why on earth would he tell you two that?” you ask.

“He tell all members,” San updates you gleefully, before reverting to Korean to elaborate: “We were sharing TMI facts for games.”

“Great. That’s great,” you tell them sarcastically. “And on what planet does he think that information would be an appropriate TMI to share?”

“Oh he doesn’t...he was just really intoxicated by then,” Wooyoung giggles.

“This just gets better and better,” you marvel.

“Are you going to yell at him again, noona?” Wooyoung asks you, trying to contain his obvious glee. San watches seemingly impassively, but you can see the anticipation in his eyes. You narrow your own.

“So how do I know you two aren’t just making this up for a prank? Or to get your leader in more trouble?” you ask, pretending to be suspicious.

“Ask the others,” San shrugs. “Or ask him.” This throws you and they can sense it, which understandably deepens their curiosity and makes you panic.

"Fine. Tell him to come see me once you're done with the radio slot," you tell them, attempting to call their bluff.

It doesn't quite go according to plan though. You’re just thinking you've maybe impressed the gravity of the situation on Ateez's leader when he interrupts you with characteristic sass, but careful to stick to jondaemal: “Noona, jebal geuman malhago kiseuhae julraeyo?” [Noona, would you please stop talking and kiss me?]. Thank God you were prescient enough to talk to him alone. You stare at him open-mouthed.

“You...what...did you hear anything I just said!?” you demand. He nods, cutely, swinging his shoulders with his hands clasped together in front of him to complete the innocent look, and shoots you a come-hither look, through his eyelashes.

“So um...if you heard me, did you understand me?” you check, wishing your Korean was more fluent for situations like this.

“Yes, I understand,” he murmurs in English, his voice husky.

“So why…” you try, with another sigh. “Why did you still ask for a kiss?” He shrugs, pouts, pushes the toe of his boot into the leg of the couch he’s standing beside then flops heavily into it with a deeply wounded sigh. You follow suit, seating yourself on the other couch. Hong-Joong keeps his head lowered and stays silent, occasionally adjusting his eyelashes with his pointer finger until you have to ask, against your better judgment, but you feel bad for rejecting him:

“Gwaenchanaeyo, Joong?”

He sniffs disconsolately, plays with his eyelashes again, and shakes his head with a little hiccoughing sob. Well now you feel really bad, but this is a no-win situation.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, sweetheart,” you try, softening your voice. He nods, quickly, acknowledging your words, but swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. You hold back a sigh of exasperation, and move to sit by him on his couch, tentatively placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Joong - don’t be like that,” you plead. “These aren’t my rules. But even if there weren’t rules...you’re so young. Don’t you want your first time to be with someone else your age. Who maybe can share the...the experience with you?” You try not to picture how it will more likely go if you arrange something for him, but push the thought away, pretending to yourself that the company can somehow make it romantic for him.

“Ani,” he sulks, head still lowered and blueberry bubblegum bangs spilling over his face. “I want you to kiss me.” He finally lifts his head and fixes you with his big, dark eyes. “Jebal,” he begs, voice breaking a little. “Only once, then I stop asking,” he bargains, in English, picking up on the subtle change in your expression. You sigh, close your eyes, and put your head in your hands, steeling yourself. You can feel Hong-Joong’s eyes on you. You can almost feel his heart thumping in his chest as he waits nervously for an answer.

“Okay,” you agree reluctantly, knowing in your heart of hearts that, despite his words, it won’t stop here. “On one condition. You are not to tell anybody ever.” He nods obediently, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Okay then...Where am I kissing you?”

He is already facing you in anticipation, his hands neatly on his thighs and his eyes shut so you can see those glorious eyelashes resting on his cheeks. The tiniest tracks of his tears stain his pretty face, and his lips are parted, ready for his requested kiss. But he opens his eyes at the question, confused.

“Right here,” he tells you, cocking his head to the side. You laugh softly.

“No. Where on yourself do you want to be kissed?” you amend.

“Oh…” he is a little flustered by the question. “On…” he touches his lips. “On my mouth,” he requests. You smile at his innocence.

“Okay. Close your eyes again,” you tell him. He does so obediently and you lean across to kiss him softly, but sensuously, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, and tangle it with yours. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you twine yours around his neck, turning your head on the side to allow him to sate his appetite on you. You only stop him, gently, when his hands sneak around towards your chest.

“There you go,” you murmur, extricating yourself reluctantly from his embrace. “Happy?”

“Yes,” he breathes, but he looks distinctly the opposite. “Noona? I...I have to go,” he tells you. You’re a bit taken aback, but you nod to him and let him up and he darts out of the room without a backwards glance. ‘Oh boy - this is gonna be fun’ you think to yourself, before leaving the little studio lounge to go round the other boys up.

You leave Hong-Joong until last, to give him some privacy to sort out his presumably mixed emotions, but it gets to the point that you really need them all in the cars, so you have to resort to checking the private recording booths, though you can’t imagine why he would be in one of them without booking it, and of course the bathrooms - which you plan to leave until absolute last. You ask the others if they’ve seen him, but they all shrug at you innocently. Finally Yeosang remembers that he saw their leader go upstairs to the sleeping pods. Thanking him exasperatedly, you jog up the stairs and then enter the space quietly, knowing that idols use it to recuperate between scheduled events. Most of the pods seem to be empty though, and it’s only when your ears adjust that you hear Hong-Joong’s voice and feel your cheeks flush.

At least he’s not sleeping, you reason, so you won’t have to wake him, but the sharp little intakes of breath and the quiet moans you hear make you think waking him would be infinitely less trouble. Still...if he’s with someone, at least now you won’t have to find him a date. You slide the door across, preparing yourself to chastise him at least a little, for form’s sake, but he’s alone. And boy, does he look guilty when he catches your eye. After a brief deer-caught-in-headlights moment, he freaks out completely, squeals loudly and throws himself commando-style off the further side of the little camp-bed, re-emerging adorably with the top of his face peeping over the mattress at you.

“Hong-Joong?! Are you alright?" you laugh. He nods and gives you cute v-fingers over his eyes and a mischievous smile. "Erm, good...what were you...wait were you just getting yourself off?” you ask him, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop yourself and wishing he didn’t look quite so delectable - kneeling up on his shins, chest heaving, with his hair dishevelled, lips just parted and eyes at half-mast and his arms awkwardly crossed across his crotch.

“U-uh...no...I was just…” he stammers, deeply unconvincingly, despite the tinkling sound of the buckle of his jeans belt dangling against the side of his leg.

“Okay, so the second car is leaving and you need to get yourself down there quick smart before it leaves without you,” you tell him, choosing to leave the subject.

“Or…?” he asks you, a little panicked. You hesitate, not wanting to give him any ideas. But it’s going to be just as awkward if you make him come downstairs with you right now.

"Or we'll have to arrange another way to get you home," you concede. "Look, just...fix yourself up. I'll work something out and come back for you. "

***********************************************

So this is the series of racy events that leads to you finding yourself in the back of a taxicab on the way back to the dorm from Hongdae, slightly the worse for the soju, with an endearingly tipsy Hong-Joong’s pretty head in your lap, using all your self-control to ignore the tantalizing effect of the incredibly illicit kisses that he is bestowing on your stockinged thighs whilst he’s meant to be ‘resting’.

“Joong, stop it! I’m warning you,” you chastise him for probably the twelfth time since you’ve clambered into this cab together. “I cannot believe you talked the staff into having me chaperone you for a night out on the town.” You don’t add that neither you nor they would have gone along with this if they’d had any idea whatsoever of his intentions. But lucky for him, you obviously weren’t going to tell on him and you gather the other boys had his back as well. Now however, you’re not entirely sure the scope for gossip won’t kill them.

Thank God, the taxi makes it back to the dorm before he can test you any further, and you jump out of the backseat to pay the driver, before helping Hong-Joong out and guiding him inside and up to his bedroom, where he spins around in a sort of pirouette before flinging himself onto his bed with a cute giggle.

“I look pretty today, don’t I, noona?” he checks with you, preening a little.

“Very pretty,” you assure him, careful to keep the tone of your voice neutral.

“No, you’re teasing me, noona~~” he whines. “Say it properly that I look pretty.” He shakes his head, making his long, silver earrings dance and jump.

“You look pretty, Hong-Joong-oppa~,” you tell him, with an aegyo flourish, before rolling your eyes teasingly at him and he laughs, loudly, with his hand in front of his mouth, then hits you playfully, in that adorable fashion he has. You give up on any pretence that he’s not dangerously close to getting his way, what with your guard being down and the soju still buzzing through you.

“Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?” you ask him, wryly. His eyes go wide, unsure if he’s just understood you correctly.

“Mwo?” he chirrups.

“You heard me,” you purr, leaning forward to kiss him lingeringly. He responds immediately, arms coming around you to pull you against him and lips moving against yours eagerly, before you feel his tongue searching for yours. You kiss for a while, but when he lays down and pulls you over on top of him, you stop him.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh. “I think we need to stop now, before someone gets hurt.” You stand up reluctantly, and give him what you plan to be one last kiss, tugging at his bottom lip gently with your teeth, before you pull away. He clings to you, kissing your jawline and then your neck, but you extricate yourself and stand up, making his face fall and his pretty smile merge into a pout.

“Wae, noona~?” he sulks, cute.

“Did you honestly think your devious little plot would work?” you tease him. “Whatever happened to ‘I won’t ask anymore once I get one kiss,’ hmm? You’ve had way more than one kiss, Joong...it’s time to move on back to reality now,” you tell him, sadly, turning to go. He sighs his defeat, letting his shoulders sink and making you wish fervently that you could just hold him and make him feel all better. You honestly can’t think of a reason that one of the professionals the company can hire for him will make him feel any more of a man than you could right now. And just as you’re mulling it over, reluctant to take your final leave, he lets his gaze rake you from head to foot, winks provocatively, and then bites his lip with a little ‘c'mere’ tilt of his chin.

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip?” you ask him, rhetorically. “‘Cause, you know what? If you did, then, fuck the rules. We’re having sex. Right now.” This time he manages not to give himself away completely, but his eyebrows go up and he swallows hard. He rearranges himself nervously on the bed as you check his door, making sure it’s locked. When you turn your attention back to Hong-Joong, you almost have second thoughts. He has arranged himself carefully, so that his shirt is open half-way to his waist, exposing most of his chest but artfully concealing his nipples, and he's leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him to give you the best possible view. His head is tilted, eyes lowered, and his slender neck looks impossibly delicate, wrapped in a black silk choker. He smiles bewitchingly and dares a look up through his lashes when you walk over to him and sit on the edge of his bed.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Hong-ssi?” you ask him softly.

“Yes!” he tells you firmly.

“Really?” you confirm. “Because you seem...maybe a little shy?” you try gently, putting your hand on his to try and help him relax.

“I have a little...little nervous,” he explains, bravely, in English, showing you with his fingers pinched together how ‘little’ the little bit of nervousness is.

“Oh - ginjanghaessoyo?” you check, in Korean. He nods quickly, blushing. You put your hand on his cheek and give him a light kiss. “Well, you don’t need to be. I promise I’ll look after you. And I’m sure you’ll do great for your first time. Still good?” Another nod. “Now, remember just tell me anytime if you want to stop, okay?” you instruct him. “I won’t be annoyed.”

“Okay,” he says with a bright smile.

“And you don’t need to be shy about making noise either, okay? If it feels good, you let me know and I will do the same. It makes it more fun,” you add, with a wink. He giggles, bites his lip and then nods again. “Now c’mere, you sexy little thing,” you tell him, hooking your arm around his waist to pull him closer, and kissing him lingeringly. He moans softly into your mouth and you reward him by deepening the kiss and letting your other hand stray inside his open shirt to play with one of his nipples. He gasps and then moans again, his lips still attached to yours and his tongue exploring your mouth with swiftly-growing passion. You keep kissing him, but press him back onto the bed properly, so that you can straddle his thighs.

“Where do you want me to kiss you next?” you ask him, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way, and pulling it open, so that you can stroke his naked chest.

“Odiena,” [everywhere] he begs, writhing impatiently under your touch and tossing his head on the pillows in an agony of anticipation. You laugh softly.

“I can’t kiss you everywhere at once,” you object. “Give me a clue...” You let one hand stray back to his nipples, making him arc his back, then you let your other hand deliberately brush the front of his pants, making him buck his hips up to press himself against your fingers.

“Seems like you’re having trouble deciding,” you tease him, letting your lower hand run the length of his still-clothed erection but bending your head towards his chest. You don’t let him get away with it that easily though, swerving at the last second to whisper into his ear:

“Why don’t you show me what you were doing in that booth upstairs this afternoon?”

“I...I wasn’t…” he stammers, blushing and nervously playing with his eyelashes.

“You were though, weren’t you?” you say. “That’s why you ran off when I kissed you. Do you have any idea how much catching you like that turned me on?”

“Oh jinjja?” he asks, surprised, but clearly flattered.

“Mmhm,” you assure him. “C’mon...let me see your jaji...I mean it feels pretty sexy,” you tell him, curling your fingers around the outline of it through his jeans. “Besides, do you honestly think I’ve been able to concentrate on anything all day while you’ve been teasing me while looking like a whole snack with this new hair?” you ask him, undoing his belt and jeans as you speak. He giggles, then self-consciously pushes his bangs back from his face and gives you another of his very pretty smiles but then hisses through his teeth and moans softly as you release his erection from his boxer-briefs and start to stroke him.

“But it’s you who tease me now, noona,” he complains, kissing you until you’re frantic for him. “You make fun by saying me all this things,” he elaborates, his breath getting more and more shallow as you speed up your strokes and his hips follow along by instinct, a thin trickle of precum leaking from his tip and making him groan helplessly.

“I’m not teasing you, babe,” you reassure him. “Every time you’ve caught my eye today, every time you’ve shown off these lovely assets of yours,” you stop caressing his cock to run your fingers longingly over his lips, then along his clavicle and then down over his hip, making him arc into your touch again… “I’ve wanted you more and more. But I’ve known that despite every inch of me aching for you, I’m not allowed to have you. You got teased by the others for saying you look pretty today? Well I think that you look not just pretty but also hot and very sexy. But I’m not supposed to tell you that. I’m not even supposed to think that,” you murmur, running your tongue over his bottom lip and eliciting a needy whine from deep in his throat. “But I don’t care anymore, Hong-Joong-ah...I want you so badly.” You kiss him again and he responds eagerly, but chastely, making you melt at his angelic sweetness.

After a moment, you reach for his cock again and start to pump your hand up and down it, but he flinches, so you pull back straight away, noting that his cheeks are aflame with blushes.

“Would you like to stop?” you check with him, keeping your voice soft and gentle.

“Ani, ani,” he stammers, waving his hand to show he just needs to catch his breath. “I just worry that I...will make a mess everywhere...too soon,” he attempts to explain.

“Oh! You’re worried you’re going to cum soon?” you check. He nods, embarrassed. “That’s okay, jagi…” you tell him. “We can slow down for a little while if you like?” He nods again, quickly this time, smiling at you sweetly when you deliberately use the term he had asked you for earlier. You let him fix himself up and then curl into your arms against the pillows with his head on your chest. You lay together quietly for a little while, kissing occasionally, as you play idly with his blueberry-bangs.

You’re just starting to count your blessings, thinking he’s actually drifting off to sleep after all and you can escape, leaving both his pride and his virginity intact, as his limbs start to feel heavier and his breathing slows towards sleeping pace. But then, just as you begin to gently disentangle yourself, he hooks your leg with his to stop you escaping, rolls over to press his hips against yours and then kisses you rather too passionately. You give in straight away this time, kissing him back with a ferocity to rival his own, and wrapping your legs up around his waist.

He pulls away a little, clearly unsure how to proceed, and kneels up between your legs to watch you, biting his lip again, but this time with a truly unconscious innocence of how sexy he looks. He tilts his head on the side, and then cautiously runs his hands up your sides, apparently not daring to do more. You smile at him and nod discreetly, but he just blushes again and clears his throat nervously.

“It’s okay, Hong-ssi,” you reassure him. “I won’t bite, and I’m not going to stop you anymore tonight. Just follow your instincts. You look like you maybe want to undress me?” you suggest. “Go on then, go ahead.” You smile again, trying to put him at ease, then raise your hand to his cheek and sit up to kiss him messily. You feel him smile and then his hands come up to peel the straps of your top off your shoulders and down your arms.

“Mmm…” you murmur against his lips, shifting to allow him to undo the front of your top, then wriggling a little to help him remove the whole thing, so that you’re kissing him in only your bra and skirt. “Mmff...keep going, jagiya,” you encourage him, lifting his hand back up to your bra straps. You let him struggle with your bra while you get to work on removing his shirt properly and undoing his jeans again. You know you could help him, but you kind of sense it’s better to let him make any mistakes that he’s going to make now, while he’s in a safe environment where he won’t be judged if he’s not perfect at everything. He makes a cute little frustrated noise as he tries to figure out the clasp, but then another pleased noise when he manages to get your bra off, but you pretend not to notice and just let him have his moment, sliding the garment off, then pulling you into his arms again, against his naked chest.

You kiss the tip of his nose, then tease his jeans carefully off his hips and down his thighs, letting him kick and yank them the rest of the way off until he’s kneeling on his bed in front of you, blushing but eager, in only his boxer briefs. You lean across and start to tease kisses from his knee, working your way up his thigh towards his thinly-veiled erection.

“Oh, jebal~,” he begs you, trying to move his leg so that you will come higher.

“Jebal? Mwo, jebal?” you murmur, wanting him to say it. “What do you want me to do?”

“Kiss...kiss,” he breathes, still in a pleading voice.

“Kiss? I’m already kissing…” you tease him, tickling his skin with your tongue now, and allowing your lips to dance ever nearer to the bottom leg-line of his panties. He moans, much louder now, and you let your other hand dip into his waistband to just barely skim the silky head of his cock. His moans intensify and he slams his head inadvertently back against the headboard of his bed, startling you a little, but not as much as he startles himself. He winces then rubs the back of his head with his hand and gives you a slightly hurt look.

“Yah, noona~” he whines. “You know what I’m mean. I want you to please...put my...my [he gives up and opts for the Korean when he can’t think of the English] je jaji...into your mouth,” he explains in a pouting almost-aegyo tone. You kinda want to tease him a little longer, but frankly you can never resist him when he talks in pout, even when the stakes are this high. And, judging by his sparkling eyes, he knows it too.

Trying not to hurt him, you pull his boxer-briefs carefully away from his erection and lick his shaft from balls to tip like an icecream. He shudders and another long, low moan escapes his body as his hands clutch his bedsheets. You raise your head to take him in your mouth, gently moving one of his hands to place it on the back of your head and indicating he should let you know how fast he needs you to go. Arcing into you, he presses his hand against the back of your head, needing you to speed up, which you do, using your free hand to hold him steady and being careful to keep your teeth behind your lips. After an interval of his pretty moans and your jaw starting to feel it, his hips dance, and he swears under his breath, in Korean.

“Wait-stop-stop!” he yelps, trying to pull away, but it’s too late and his voice trembles into another prolonged groan as you taste his warm jizz flooding your tongue. “Oh, shibal, mianhamnida,” [fuck, sorry] he stammers, mortified. You ignore his sweet objections and lick him clean, then pull him down by your side and let him cuddle shyly into you with his face turned into the crook of your neck.

“Noona?” he asks, squeezing your waist with his arm.

“What is it, Joong?” you murmur sleepily, the soju finally settling in your veins.

“Please stay here with me?” he requests. You sigh, afraid to tell him.

“No, no - that’s too much, doll,” you try to cushion the blow with a finger under his chin and a soft kiss on his lips. “I have to go back to my room, now that the damage is done.”

“But you say...well...we are going to have sex,” he pouts.

“And we did, you little minx,” you tell him, but he is already shaking his head, cheeky.

“Ani. I still am...virgin,” he corrects you defiantly, pleased with himself for remembering the English word.

“You’re still? Wow...you’re really going to go for the literal definition, are you?,” you laugh quietly at his sass. “Well, you may find you need to recharge a little first,” you sigh, giving in. He veritably purrs at this update and you see a devilish grin slip across his lips, though he keeps his eyes tightly squeezed shut, making you marvel anew at his beautiful eyelashes, by this stage of the evening innocent of eyelash-curlers or mascara, yet still works of art in themselves.

You cuddle up together for another small interval, but this time you realize that you must have drifted off to sleep yourself, when you open your eyes to find the sun peeking over the horizon outside. You smile to yourself when you notice Hong-Joong slumbering sweetly, completely naked in your arms, but you’re not sure how to disentangle yourself without waking him again. You manage to edge yourself out of his embrace, get your top back on and locate your bra but when you turn to give him one last longing look, he is propped up on one arm, eyes blearily open and watching you resentfully. He opens his mouth to say something and you swiftly close the distance between the two of you, to put a finger to his lips.

“You trick me,” he whispers fiercely. You try not to laugh at his indignant tone.

“I didn't, sweetheart! I fell asleep, same as you,” you defend yourself.

“So we have sex now?” he asks you, yawning and covering his mouth politely. You shake your head at him with amused incredulity.

“We can’t now,” you tell him. “There’s no way people won’t find out. It’s morning.” He just shrugs and tries to pull your skirt off.

“I don’t care,” he informs you cheekily, switching to an attempt to remove your top when you intervene with his attempt to remove your skirt. “If we are...balli-balli...[quickly - if you go fast] then we not wake members,” he bargains.

“Okay, okay! My gosh, you’re persistent,” you marvel, drawing him into your arms and kissing him. He deepens the kiss, tugging at your lip with his teeth in the sweetest punishment as his hands work quickly to remove the rest of your clothes.

“Hey - where’s that shy boy from last night?” you tease him, but he just sticks his tongue out at you and taps your legs, making you spread them so that he can climb between them. He’s all masterful confidence until you feel his erection tickling the inside of your thighs and he pauses, on his hands and knees, looking at you nervously. You run your hands along his body and down onto his hips and pull him forward.

“Ah - there’s our shy boy! It’s okay, jagi,” you reassure him, wrapping your legs up around him and lifting your hips to meet him. He kisses you under the jawline, and lets his hands stray towards your chest, so you drop your hand down to guide his cock to rest against your already-wet folds, then give your hips a little thrust so that he slips in. He gasps and thrusts his own hips instinctively, then you grab them and pull him the rest of the way forward, simultaneously eliciting a jagged moan from his lips and sighing with relief yourself, as he slides right up inside you, making you call out his name. He moans your name back to you, then finally starts to rock his hips back and forward, his breath coming hotter and faster against your neck as his moans get louder and more urgent.

“Aigoh! Ai-ai-yuh...uh! Aiohhohh!” he vocalizes shamelessly as he gets more and more caught up in your lovemaking, until he appears to have forgotten his surroundings. You surrender to him completely, kissing and caressing every part of him that you can reach.

“Oh-uh...pokbalhaga naol got gatayo~” [I feel like I’m going to explode] he confesses as his hips start to reach jackhammer speed.

“Oh, jinjja?” you gasp. He moans in the affirmative into your neck. “Do it, jagi. Cum inside me!” you gasp. His hands force you to speed up to his pace and his lovely voice climbs high enough to definitely have caught the attention of the other members.

“Oh shib!” he groans, his lips parted and his eyes at half-mast in a perfect mask of sexual gratification. “Oh...oh ne...oh fuck...Do you think…” he pants out “they can...hear us?”

“Yes we can!” hollers WooYoung from behind the wall, his voice indicating that he’s been wanting to object since the beginning of this latest tryst. “Please stop already! We’re happy for you hyung but honestly, we’re trying to sleep too, you know?!” he elaborates. Shaking your head at WooYoung’s lack of tact, you grab Hong-Joong’s sexy, taut ass in your hands, kiss him fiercely on the lips and lift your hips to a higher angle, letting him penetrate you even further. His hips do a final dance and you feel him cum up inside you, before collapsing next to you on his back, chest heaving and one arm flung across his face, while the other pulls you close.

“Better?” you ask him, cuddling against his side.

“Mmm....ne...much better,” he affirms, sighing contentedly.

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