#i kept every single euphemism
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i need someone to match my freak (my chappell roan minecraft parodies)
#i am not even joking at this point#chappell roan#minecraft#i have one fully written#two more in progress#and loose ideas for at least three more#i kept every single euphemism#i may have added more actually#it started as a joke but it is so not a joke#i have a ideas for a live action music video and one animated in minecraft#what am i doing#red wine supernova#good luck babe#super graphic ultra modern girl#the rise and fall of a midwest princess
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Euphemisms
Summary: Levi may not have attended school, but he knows a thing or two about pregnancy⊠and also periods. (Levi takes care of you during your period) Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago for my main fic. Then, I wrote a different version for the final cut of the fic, so I decided to re-arrange this one so it could be a one-shot. Warning: Suggesting themes, mentions of pregnacy. The reader is a virgin. Word Count: 3.5k
The calendar that was peacefully and innocently lying on top of Erwinâs desk. âMarchâŠâ her mind read, âItâs March already, the 7th to be precise.â Her mind tried to count days, desperately trying to find missing days that could make the counting lower. Biting her nails with worry, this was a new topic for her to be stressed about.
Levi had joined the military only a year ago, right? He hadnât been promoted yet, but the gossip in the halls said it was imminent. Perhaps because in the few months he had been part of the Scouts, he had already killed more titans than anyone before. Maybe it was because he worked directly for Erwin, who kept ordering her to write letters to the military board requesting the special promotion of Captain for those who were impressive additions to the military but hadnât gone through the regular training.
The yet-to-be Captain and she had locked eyes in the past, or⊠done more than just locking eyes. That was the issue now. Every single time Levi was dragged into Erwinâs office because he had replied with his colorful vocabulary to a higher-up or fought another cadet, she was there. One thing led to another, and during common chores or after training, they had gotten more âfamiliarâ with each other.
Y/N wouldnât even dare to complain. The thug that Erwin had decided to bring to the surface kicking and shouting was many things. Rushed wasnât one of them. She had clarified to him that she had never had a boyfriend before, or anything to be more precise, and he had reassured her that she could set the tempo. They would do anything that she felt comfortable with.
âLev- Ah-â she whimpered as he kissed her neck enthusiastically and his fingers played thoughtful circles over her clit.
âYou like that, hm?â Levi replied almost as joke, it was obvious that she did by the way she rocked her hips against his hand.
âI-?!â
âShhh,â he hushed her, half as mockery, half because they were breaking curfew âDonât worry, I wonât go too far⊠two fingers are all I need,â
Blood rushed to her cheeks as she tried to concentrate on work, pen marking the time as it repeatedly hit the paper she was supposed to be reading while her mind recalled the exact scenes that, she believed, had dragged her into this situation.
The little knowledge that had been shared with her was more lies and tales than realistic information. The sudden crucifixion of her actions a couple of months ago passed in her mind as a picture book, one after the other, as her less pure side made an emphasis on bringing back the mental sequence of him taking off his shirt while smirking and then going down to kiss her, or better say devour her, taking her breath as if he needed the oxygen from her lungs for himself. Perhaps, the rocking of his bare hips against hers, with his manhood in full display for her to see as it pressed against her lower stomach.
âMaybe it takes longer to show⊠no no, maybe Iâm not. But what if I am?â âWho do I tell? Who do I ask? What do I do?â
âOi, are you going to tell me what the fuck is up with you or not?â Levi asked, pissed off already after an entire day of him asking, âYou alright?â and her answering with a face that seemed far from okay, saying âYes.â He was resting his body on the railing of the watch post, with a hot cup of tea between his hands.
âNothing,â her voice came out whispery and sad, and he sighed loudly and groaned in pain.
âJust say it. Donât be like ânothing,ââ he emphasized the last word with sarcasm and disdain and kept going, âwith the most fucked up face. Itâs obvious that something is going on. Donât be a pain in the ass and say it. Cut the show.â
A part of her wanted to be mad at him for saying that she wasnât making a show or a scene. âItâs nothing that concerns you,â her response came dubitable, which made Levi keep up the demanding attitude, as if this time he wasnât taking that as an answer. âIt doesnât concern you⊠you as a man.â
There was a brief silence before he sighed loudly. âYouâre on the rags, thatâs it?â She raised an eyebrow at the euphemism that was a bit more âstreet-likeâ than what she was used to. âYouâre on your period, youâre bleeding. Thatâs what I meant.â
Leaving aside that it wasnât the first time and wouldnât be the last that despite both of them talking the same language as every human inside of the walls, Underground slang was so distant from what she was used to that sometimes that they got lost in translation. When she got what he meant, she blushed intensely, ashamed. âNo, and God, you could be a bit more delicate about it.â
Possibly, she wasnât used to bringing the topic around the other gender. She had been told (since it happened for the first time) the bearable minimum amount of information: âYouâre a woman now, it will happen every month, men must not know.â Telling Levi was breaking one of the three rules set in stone for her. The second rule was also broken, so she felt like stepping on completely foreign land.
The permanent wrinkled frown in Leviâs complexion was slightly changed with the addition of a raised, thin eyebrow. âIf youâre not, then whatâs the problem?â
She joined in the frowning and avoided his glance with questionable security and a mortified appearance. âMore like⊠the lack of it?â
âWhy are you worried about it?â Leviâs straightforward nature was testing her limits of politeness.
âWell, you know!â she cussed at him. âThat I may be expecting,â she whispered the last part, terrified that someone might even hear her, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. As if those words could travel through walls and arrive at someone.
This was the time for him to be shocked and surprised. His eyebrows raised, and his eyes opened. Suddenly, even without him wanting, a pang of hurt appeared in his face. Levi was quick to question, âAre you fuckinâ someone?â
Perhaps the details or the official title of what they were sharing hadnât been discussed yet, but Levi somehow thought it was rather clear that they were exclusive. However, since she seemed genuinely worried, Levi considered that perhaps he was the only one taking this more seriously. The idea of him misreading the relationship was like a bucket of cold water mixed with the raging fire of jealousy. He took a sip of his tea, mostly to disguise the disappointment mingled with hurt.
Her coldness was lost, and she pressed her lips together while raising both eyebrows, irritated. âYou!â
The former thug, not following her train of thought, admired her in confusion before saying, âHow could I get you knotted up?â
Leviâs usual frowning expression changed slightly as he was certainly not getting the point of the conversation. âAre you fuckinâ someone else?â
Gasping in disbelief, âAre you already questioning my loyalty to you?â She felt dreadfully offended. She turned around and gave him her back. âMy grandmother was right. Men back up so easily. They leave you as soon as they find out.â
He shook his head slightly while wrinkling the nose, as he tried to process everything. He was completely confused but at the same time he got a rush of relief at her words. âYou⊠you think you could be knock up?â
âCouldnât you be softer about it? You say it so harshly,â she complained about his sharp tongue. As a silent reply, the hand that wasnât holding the cup left his trousersâ pocket and raised as he also cocked an eyebrow, completely misunderstanding what was wrong with his choice of words. âI donât know, maybe a bun in the oven or with child.â
She was freaking out inside and out, and Levi dedicated his best disinterested look to her after her correction of words. âWhat am I going to do?â she questioned to no one in particular as she felt the fear kicking in.
Leviâs expression remained the same as he gave it a thought, and then said almost as if he was confused of his own actions too. âI ⊠I havenât put it in yet,â
She seemed to have completely ignored him. Once he had finally concluded there was actually no real problem he sighed and then said, âThen youâre not pregnant, chill. Calm down.â As soon as those words left his lips and she turned around with a dead gaze, his free hand raised again but this time as some sort of white flag. âFine, fucking terrible choice of words.â Aware that not a single person in human history had calmed down after being told so.
âYou donât know that,â she murmured as a reply to his first statement.
âI think I kinda do.â The calmness in his tone and the disinterest in his face made her even more infuriated.
âPeople in my life, especially my family, had made it clear before. Messing around with a man could lead to pregnancy. We were both naked and your⊠your thing was touching me and close by. I donât know! Maybe it worked somehow,â she desperately tried to express her fears until she heard him chuckle. It was starting to be tiring to dedicated him dead glances.
âSorry,â he apologized, probably realizing that laughing in her face wasnât helping. âI may not be the most educated moron around here, but that simply is not how it works. I didnât put my dick in, not even close, so youâre safe.â
âAre you implying that you know more than everybody around me?â
âMore about sex than you? Apparently, yes, Iâm sure of that.â As he arrived at the end of his reply, he couldnât stop a side smirk from appearing on his features, and then he took a sip from his tea. "If getting knotted up was that easy, girly, there would be more kids than fucking grass.â
Her stubbornness didnât allow her to believe him. She walked around the watch post worrying, âWhat if I need to carry it on? Will I lose my job? Erwin will be so disappointed in me! Iâm not ready for that. Iâm not ready to be a mother either.â
Levi rolled his eyes and shook his head. âYou know, thereâs no fucking schools down there but Iâm sure about this.â He commented, thinking to himself so stupidly prudish surface people were compared to the underground. âYouâre not knock up. Iâve to put it in and shoot my load for that to happenâ
When he noticed she wasnât really paying attention, Levi took a cup and filled it up with tea. He placed it in her hands and grabbed her face. His rough, calloused hand applied pressure on her cheeks and raised it slowly, to look up at him even when they were more or less the same height. âCalm the fuck down. Why would I lie to you? If it was possible, donât you think I would freak out? Drink the tea and relax for goodnessâ sake. We are one week away from an expedition, and youâre stressed as a fucking cornered rat. Of course, your period is not coming down.â
âAlright,â she stuttered. âBut what if I am? Youâre not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?â She gave him her best doe eyes.
âOf course,â he replied, mostly to not argue with her but the thought that she was still considering it made him roll his eyes.
Stress is never an excellent ally. He was right in everything. They came back from the expedition; she relaxed for a few days, and it came right in. If thereâs something worse than a period, it's a late one. Her hormones were messed up, and everything hurt twice as much.
"Trying" was a generous word for her attempts at pretending she wasnât in so much pain that she wished she'd never left her bed. It was a mix of the constant discomfort from the unrelenting waves of pain and a boiling sensation in her lower belly. Not to mention the random rushes of intense pain in her butt that made her feel as if time froze until the sensation slowly passed. She felt moody, mostly because the uniform felt like it was pressing in all the wrong places. It was too tight, complicated, impractical, itchy, and either too cold or too warm. She wanted to put on a long shirt and lay in bed for a week.
Her fork moved the food from one side of the plate to the other. She was hungry, but not for breakfast. The usual meal felt like an insult to her state. âI want comfort food, not healthy stuff for training,â she thought.
âWhy the shitty face? Are you constipated?â Levi asked bluntly. Her initial thought was, âYes, try going to the bathroom normally when you feel like dying.â
âI have a headache,â she replied miserably.
Levi hummed a positive reply, âAh,â looking her from the other side of the table and simply stated, âYour blood finally came,â
She choked on the glass of water she was drinking, coughing loudly. When she finally recovered, her embarrassed expression made it clear how she felt. âDonât say that! Or at least not like that. Havenât you imagined that a headache is a social clue since youâre a man and I donât want you to know?â
Levi, who once again didnât understand her reactions, kept his uninterested facade and raised the teacup to his lips. âI donât get your fucking embarrassment. Men know about it. Itâs not a secret.â
âItâs girlsâ stuff,â she tried desperately to keep the traditions she was told, while Levi was obstinate about going against them.
âItâs normal. Why are people here on the surface so fucking obsessed about hiding normal shit?â Levi, still getting used to another society, snarled.
The need to argue left her body as she writhed in pain from another cramp. She tried to hide it as best as she could, even though Levi already knew; she felt like expressing her pain was something he didnât want to hear.
âIf you feel that bad, go to bed and rest.â His voice was calm and monotone as always, but there were hints of compassion escaping his stoic expression.
âI canât tell the superiors,â she used as an excuse.
Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed. âWho cares? Whatâs the point of you training while feeling like this? Go, rest, and I will tell Erwin.â
âErwin shouldnât know,â she cried out loud, as if that was the worst fate.
âDonât be an idiot. Erwin has hair on his balls. He knows how it works.â Levi felt as if she was talking nonsense but when he saw her conflicted face, he added, âI will tell him you caught a cold, whatever, so rest. Iâll do your chores.â
âYou sure?â
âJust go.â
She did exactly that. At first, she felt she shouldnât because she could bare it, but as soon as she arrived at her shared bedroom, changed her clothes, and laid quietly on the bed, she knew she didnât want to be anywhere else. She fell asleep; it was still early anyway, so it was more like resuming the rest of the night than an actual nap.
Later, a few hours before dinner, she was feeling quite bad but wasnât tired enough to take another nap. Laying on her side, curled up as she read a book slowly because it was hard to read from that position, she heard a knock on the door. It was unusual because her friends would have just rushed in.
âCome in!â she said, slowly and lazily sitting up.
Levi's figure appeared, and she felt the urgent need to smooth out her hair, which was heavily tangled from lying in bed all day. âWhat are you doing here?â she questioned quickly, running her hands through her hair. âMen are not allowed in the female barracks.â
Levi left a tray with tea and some buns with jelly, probably leftover from breakfast, on her nightstand as he moved next to her between the two bunk beds. âWho is gonna keep me out?â he replied monotonously, as if they both knew nobody was going to pick a fight with him or get on his bad side by snitching to a higher-up.
Before she could thank him, he asked, âYou have a hot water bottle?â
âYeah, but itâs cold already,â she replied, still confused. He extended a hand as a silent gesture for her to give it to him.
Once she handed it to him, he declared, âIâll come back later. Drink the tea before it gets cold. Bread with jelly was the closest thing to something your bratty sweet tooth would like.â
She accepted the warm cup he handed her with a tender smile. âThank you so much, you shouldnât have.â
âHow are you feeling?â Levi asked, keeping his eyes on her while she tasted the tea. âChamomile,â she noted.
âCould be worse, Iâll survive,â she replied, still embarrassed that he was around. âDid you warn the higher-ups?â
Levi nodded. âTold them you had a headache. Erwin said to take it easy today and let him know how you feel tomorrow. He mentioned something about administrative activities or some bullshit like that if youâre still not feeling well enough for training.â
She accepted the white lie without question. While resting warmly in bed, she thought, âIf itâs only him knowing, I could get used to this kind of pampering.â
The white lie was necessary because when Levi walked to Erwin, who was leading his squadâs early morning training, he stood in front of him and said, âY/N isnât training today, sheâs bleeding.â
The blunt words made the blond, who was casually writing on a spreadsheet, snap quickly in shock and then chuckle slightly out of nervousness. âOh, alright, Iâll write her down as indisposed.â
âDonât tell me youâre fucking ashamed, too?â Levi rested his hands on his hips, looking deeply at his squad leader.
Erwin, probably smiling at the unexpected situation, said, âWell no, but usually people are a bit more discreet⊠especially the girls.â Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed, before Erwin added, âI highly doubt Y/N told you to tell me that.â
âShe told me to say she had a headache.â
âOf course,â Erwin chuckled, knowing those were not her words. âTry to be softer next time, especially if you ever have girls under your command. They get really embarrassed, especially when they are young.â
Levi rolled his eyes. âGot it. Iâll add it to my long list of stuff that you fuckers from the surface get scared about.â
He was ready to go back to training while Erwin let the swears slip by as if he was tired of calling Leviâs attention to those. Then the shorter man asked, âDo you have chamomile tea?â
Erwin raised his attention from the spreadsheet to look at Levi and simply replied, âNo. I have black tea.â
He clicked his tongue, âitâs for the brat,â Levi clarified, as if that would make a difference.
âI imagined, but no. I can give you black tea if you want.â Erwin insisted, confused about the specificity.
Levi frowned. âThat doesnât work, moron. Caffeine makes cramps worse. Chamomile works better. Donât you know that?â
The blond shook his head, not ashamed of admitting his lack of knowledge. âUsually, female cadets donât talk to us about that.â
âAbout their bleeding? Donât you have a little sister?â Levi questioned back, as if that was reason enough.
âStep-sister, and she was born after I joined the military. We never shared a household,â Erwin explained as he went back to his work, disinterested. âAnd we prefer to call it indisposed,â he added, instructing him again.
âTch, got it. Iâll add it to the other list of stuff I should say instead,â Levi said, ending the conversation as he turned around and walked away.
Or so he thought, because Erwin spoke up again. His attention was still on his paperwork while he switched the weight from one leg to the other, making the little rocks of the training ground move and crack. âEuphemisms.â
The former thug looked back over his shoulder, frowning, and asked, âWhat?â from a slightly bigger distance now.
âEuphemisms,â Erwin repeated as if the question was because the cadet didnât hear it. But as soon as the blond didnât get an answer, he proceeded to explain, âA euphemism is a word or phrase used to avoid saying an unpleasant or offensive word.â
Erwin had no intention of displaying his education to the former thug, more of a plain explanation. The blond even raised his eyes and did a slight smile as a âwhite flag,â not trying to sound superior in his explanation.
Levi replied with his best deadpan expression, âYou surface assholes know that but not about chamomile tea? You should check your priorities.â
This time, the black-haired cadet truly walked away, hearing his superior chuckle a bit. âCheck with Hange. They may have the tea,â Erwin called after him.
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!
Ps: If you ask me... Erwin know they are fucking lol
#levi ackerman#levi#captain levi#levi aot#snk levi#levi x reader#levi x y/n#aot levi#snk levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackeman#levi attack on titan#captain levi ackerman x you#captain levi x reader#captian levi x reader#captain levi ackerman x y/n#captain levi x you#levi shingeki no kyojin#levi x you#aot#attack on titan#snk#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titans#levi smut#levi x reader smut#levi ackerman snk#levi ackerman smut#levi ackerman x reader smut#levi ackerman x female!reader
372 notes
·
View notes
Text
Donât take my sunshine away.
Part 4
Warning â ïž; Blood, murder, mental breakdown
Pairing; Bruce Wayne/Male Reader
Summary; Raâs al Ghul is in Gotham, escaping Batman, Nightwing and Robin only to face you and you have to face the ugly truth when you realize someone stole Jasonâs body.
~~~~~~~~~~~
To say you hated Raâs al Ghul and his league would be a euphemism. Bruce was still marked by his time among them, his flesh still covered in scars and his sleep with nightmares. Not only that but Raâs had more than once been a pain in your ass. He and his daughter, both were on your list of most hated people.
Thankfully, Bruce always knew how to reassure you and make you safe when they were around. After all, Thalia was his ex from before Bruce and you fell in love and she always was flirting with him. You trusted Bruce and knew he was faithful no matter his past, but Thalia easily got on your nerves by going after your husband.
And that week you could only remember your hate and disgust of them as Raâs was spotted with his assassins. Dick came to help the second he heard the news. Every night, Bruce went out with the boys trying to find and catch him. The thought of Tim facing a master assassin filled you with dread and fear. What if you were to lose another son?
No.
Bruce would never let something like that happen again. He wouldn't let Tim get hurt. After losing Jason and almost you and Tim, Bruce had changed. He still was against killing but had become more reckless, marking the worst kind of criminal with his sigil. They would often die in jail.
It had deepened the rift between Bruce and Clark, leading to many disagreements and altercations between the two heroes. You had always stood by Bruce, telling him he was doing the right thing.
And now you could only wonder if it was the reason behind Raâs presence in the city.
That morning when the boys came back from patrol, you could see on their faces that Raâs had once more escaped their grasp. You welcomed them back with open arms and the first aid kit ready. Thankfully only Bruce needed some care, the boys were fine but upset and you understood them.
Once they were tucked into bed and you were alone with Bruce in yours, your husband broke down. You held him in your arms as he held you for dear life. You whispered sweet words in his ear, caressing his hair and kissing his face. You were careful around his injuries and bruises, not wanting to cause more pain. Once Bruce had calmed down, he stayed in your embrace as he explained himself.
Raâs didn't target him that night, instead, he went after Tim and Dick. Bruce was still shaking up, body shaking as the adrenaline slowly disappeared and the reality hit him. You held your husband tighter.
- âBut nothing happened to them, Bruce. They don't have a single scratch on them, you protected them from Raâs. You are a good dad.â You told him, your voice barely a whisper as you dried his cheeks. âDo you hear me? You are a good dad and you kept our kids safe and I know you will always bring them back home.â
Bruce had smiled weakly, thanking you. You two cuddled more and you admired him under the morning light. So many scars and bruises and you knew each of them by heart. You could even name what or who caused them.
You stayed awake, watching over Bruce as he slept in your arms. His head rested on your chest as he listened to your heartbeat before falling asleep. You kept brushing his hair with your fingers, making sure no nightmare disturbed him.
Of course, nothing could stay calm forever.
The following night, you couldn't sleep at all. Bruceâs story kept replaying in your head and how everything could have gone wrong. You also wondered why Raâs had targeted the kids. It wasn't in his nature to go for the weakest, so why did he?
You sat in the living room, facing the cheminee as you drank some tea while thinking about everything when you heard the floor cracking. You immediately knew it wasn't Alfred, the butler would have announced himself sooner and Bruce definitely was still out.
You froze in fear as you heard Raâs voice filling the room.
- âLooks like Bruce left you alone, defenceless⊠at my mercy.â
- âI am anything but defenceless, Raâs.â You spat back as you slowly got up before turning around to face the assassin.
Raâs stood tall wrapped in greenish clothes. Your eyes immediately found his sword and you felt fear slowly crawl inside your heart. Bruce had taught you how to defend yourself and you knew how to use a gun, but against Raâs? You stood no chance of getting out alive.
Your only comfort was that Bruce would avenge you and soon you would be reunited with Jason.
- âWhat do you want?â You asked, voice colder than ice. âWhy did you try to hurt my kids?â
- âSo many questions and yet none are the right ones.â Raâs mocked Ashe approached you. You moved, keeping a safe distance from him, making the other man smile. âBruce taught you well.â
- âJust like he taught our sons. You won't get away with killing me, Raâs. If Bruce doesn't avenge me, I know my children will.â
It only made Raâs chuckles as he shook his head. You two walked around the room, still facing each other. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, hoping it wouldn't be an agonizing death.
- âI see where Jason got it all, not from Bruce, but you. He really is his papaâs son.â Raâs said almost mockingly.
His words enraged you. Not only was the fucker talking as if Jason was still alive, but also as if he knew your son. Never would Jason stay around people like Ra, if he was alive you knew he would come back to you and Bruce.
So how dare he speak of Jason? How dare he act as if your son was still alive?
- âShut up! You speak as if you knew my son as if he was still alive. He is dead so keep his name out of your filthy mouth!â You snapped.
- âAre you sure about it?â Raâs asked, smirking.
It was too much for you.
The disrespect, the mockery and the cruelty of his words made you see red. You didn't think twice and raced toward Raâs. The man was too surprised by your reaction and you were able to land a punch.
You two fell on the ground, thrashing around and trying to dominate the other. You bit and scratched Raâs when he had you pinned down. The snake got a few punches on you as well and you felt your mouth filling with blood.
You had managed to throw away his sword and it got stuck under the sofa. Raâs hands grabbed your neck and you managed to hit him in the balls with your knees. No matter the pain, Raâs didn't let go and you began running out of air. Lungs burning, you felt your sight get blurry as the assassin was about tonl break your neck. You closed your eyes, awaiting death.
To your biggest shame, you screamed when you heard a gunshot and warm blood splattered all over your face. You fell on the ground with Raâs in a loud thud, gasping for air as you crawled away. Two strong hands grasped your shoulders and you tensed until you heard Alfredâs voice.
- âMaster (Y/N), thank God you are fine. Here, let me help you.â The soft voice of Alfred was enough to calm your nerves as he cleaned your face from the blood. âWhy didn't you call for me? Ah! You two are really made for each other, aren't you!â
- âAlfred? Alfred! W-what happened? Raâs al Ghul, heâŠâ you tried to speak, but your throat hurt like hell.
- âDead. Thankfully I didn't touch you when I shot his head, but what a mess I made. It will take me hours before getting all that blood off the floor.â
You opened your eyes and looked around. You quickly found Raâs body lying on the floor in a poodle of blood, half his head missing. Heart racing in your chest, you shivered at the thought of what would have happened if Alfred hadn't shown up.
- âAlfred, you need toâŠâ You began, voice shaking as the butler helped you up before sitting you on the sofa.
- âAlready done. Master Bruce and the children are coming back and I have already told the police about the break-in.â
You nodded feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders. You kept your eyes on Raâs body as if he was going to come back to life. His words kept repeating in your head, filling you with doubt.
Before long Bruce and the boys were back and you melted in your husbandâs arms as he held you tightly just like Tim. Dick covered Raâs corpse, making sure you couldn't see it anymore. He stayed behind you, a silent support once the police arrived.
Gordon was at lost for words and you couldn't explain to him the full story. You stayed on the story of the break-in and that you didn't know him, and could not understand why that man tried to kill you. Thankfully Gordon didn't suspect anything and believed you. After all, Gotham was a hellhole so such things weren't out of the ordinary.
But once the police were gone with Raâs body, you explained the whole story to your family. You kept quiet about how you had accepted your demise and emphasized how Raâs said Jason was still alive even tho it was impossible.
Just like you, Bruce and Dick were outraged at the thought, denying the possibility. Only Tim believed it. There were so many weird things they saw and fought about, could it really be impossible for Raâs to have brought Jason back to life?
The idea that that assassin had played Frankenstein with your son terrified you and you almost threw up on the spot. Bruce chastised Tim, but Dick got on his side.
What ifâŠ
What ifâŠ
The simple possibility was enough for you to need confirmation that Jason was still resting in peace. With the three of you against him, Bruce had no other choice but to agree to dig up Jasonâs tomb. It was disgusting, horrible and needed.
You were all silent as you went to Jasonâs last resting place carrying each a shovel. It didn't take you long before his coffin was in sight. You almost had a panic attack and it only thanks to Bruce and Tim if you didn't. They held you as Dick opened the coffin and froze before looking at you.
- âIt's empty. Its.âŠâ Dick said, voice shaking as you gasped for air. âJasonâŠâ
- âDick, stop it!â Bruce snapped and got up, walking toward the opened grave. âThat unnecessary cruel andâŠâ
You felt your heart drop as you saw Bruce froze and just knew. You got up on shaking legs and ran up to see. Bruce grabbed you, trying to stop you, but you said it. The coffin was dirty and, worse, completely empty. You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks.
- âWhere is he? Where is my son?â You screamed, fingers digging in Bruceâs arms as your own body protested in pain. âWho took? Where is my baby?â
- âEasy my love, easy. We are going to find the truth, we are going to find Jason okay? Please calm down my love.â Bruce whispered in your neck as he held you tightly.
You collapsed in Bruce's arms, crying and clinging to him. The boys were talking but you understood nothing. Only your husband's sweet voice reached you even tho you couldn't calm down. The thought that someone had stolen Jasonâs body horrified you and you wondered why. Why steal him? Why not let him rest in peace?
But Bruceâs promises were enough to comfort you and you knew your husband would do everything and anything to find back your son. Whoever did it was in for a beating, because such a crime wouldn't be left unpunished.
#male reader#x male reader#x reader#fanfic#reader#angst#batman#batman x male reader#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x male reader#dcu
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dollhouse
Simon Riley X you
CN angst, patriarchy and effects on those who can have children, family planning (this is not a euphemism you dogs)
700 words
The idea came to me in a dream. Little short note so i won't forget.
Cover als always made by me. it's from Abhörstation, Berlin.
You woke up with an ache in your heart.
As always when your boyfriend went on deployment he had to leave early.
As always you got up to make coffee and chat as he packed his bags.
Did you get the socks from the laundry? No idea where your aftershave is. Take the green shirt. It suits you.
Sharing one last cup over breakfast together had become your tradition just like getting up together before his trips. Then that last kiss came before he left through the door.
Stay safe Simon. I miss you already. Come back quickly. I love you too.
The click of the lock closing behind him with painful finality.
Nothing ever prepared you for that part of your relationship when you were alone. You browsed through forums and group chats among military spouses, feeling empty and cheated that no one prepared you for the solitude of it. Or are you the only one not cut out for the waiting? About how much time of your life you spent on standby, waiting for Simon to get back and do all those tiny things and big plans with you? Are you doing this correctly?
Maybe I am not cut out for this â you mused as you looked over the space you shared with Simon; his seat now empty. The book he read yesterday right next to pots of plants you bought together on the windowsill. Photos of you and him in frames over the couch he lounged on last night. Memories frozen in time. Memories in waiting. Like you, sitting here waiting for him to come back and pick up where he left.
You never doubted him. Whatever happened while he was away never left you unloved, forgotten, replaced. But love is not the only thing that you needed. Him catching you in a searing kiss when he returned, carrying you back to the bedroom and feeding your lonely skin until it was plump and satisfied from caresses was never the problem. Simon was never the problem.
It was you. No amount of perfect love and devotion, of passion and desire could make up for you being alone despite your relationship. Standing alone at parties and nursing that one white wine spritzer. Going to family events. Dealing with life on your own and talking to yourself every evening about the day that you had.
Simon is away. Yes, I worry but he will be back soon. I am sure it will be alright.
Sometimes the guilt ate at you. His job was dangerous. He could get hurt. He could die. And yet here you were thinking about how hard your life was. How his life was spent in visible excitement with his buddies sharing a beer after a mission, his captain giving him a pat on the back, people asking him if he was fine. And you were kept in a state of continuous invisible anticipation for him to return to you, hopefully in one piece.
Besides, how many out there would love to live the life you had? Being a perfect little wife one day and dolling up for Simon with that military check paying for that shared life. Keeping a perfect little doll home for him to return to and play civil life for a bit. Being a perfect little single mum to the Riley-kids he would father with you only to never be around for them because of his job.
The thought made you gasp out in worry for the unborn children you werenât even sure you wanted. Children with dark brown eyes. Children that would leave your fingers trembling from the tiring task of loving and worrying about them. Children that made you wonder where they were and if they would return to you in one piece as if that was not a concerning thought. Was this normal? Or another thing you were failing at?
God, you feared yet wished for that family so much. Hoping for Simon to return right now and asking him how he felt about starting on having kids this exact moment. But your rabbit heart new better and you froze as you reached for your phone, opting to send him âsafe travelsâ instead.
Maybe one day you would grow brave enough to tell him all that. And hopefully he would be brave enough to listen.
#grimmwriting#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
GIRL CRUSH - XAVIER THORPE
DESCRIPTION IÂ you have a crush on Xavier but sure he likes Wednesday, so you take the opportunity to taste him on someone else's lips
PAIRING IÂ Xavier Thorpe Ă fem!reader
WORDS COUNT IÂ 2,3k
A/N IÂ in case it wasn't obvious already, I have a crush on this man and after listening to girl crush, I decided to try and write for him. I hope it's worth it đ
You felt stupid. Stupid. The stupidest person in the world.
It already wasnât easy living in Jericho. It was worse to not have any power when you were living so close to Nevermore. And the worst part was that most of your friends came from the school, meaning you had to deal with all their abilities. While your only ability was to make good coffee. Ugh.
But all of this wasnât enough for you. Of course not. You had to fall for one of these outcasts, as they call them. You wanted to scream at that thought. How could you been so stupid to let your heart guide yourself there?
Deep down, you knew it wasnât entirely your fault. Like, you couldnât blame yourself for Xavier Thorpe being this nice, right?Â
It all started when Xavier started coming at the coffee. He was the one taking command for all his friends. You noticed how he was always drawing some stuff on the recipe you gave him. Some were darker than the others. The situation was the same every single time: Xavier was too lost on his drawing and his mind that he only looked up when you came back with all the drinks. Then, he managed to grab them all and let the paper on the counter, forgetting about it immediately.Â
But you didnât.
You kept all his drawing. It was art and you would feel terrible throwing them away. You always put the one in your apron and, most of time, forgot to take them with you when you were leaving.Â
After a few meetings, you started to talk and discovered some things about each other. He learnt where you were going at school and which majors you wanted to do after that, and you learnt how he was putting his hair behind his ear when he was getting nervous and how he had the most precious smile you ever seen. Among others important things, of course.
âShit, [y/n] can you give me a pen and some papers please?â You were talking when Xavierâs phone starting rigging. You had no idea who was calling him and for what, but it seemed important enough for him to need to write it down.Â
Of course, you looked in your apron to give him what he needed. And, of course, what you took out was all the drawing you kept with you. To say you were red would be a euphemism. Xavier looked at you with an amused expression before taking one of the already used paper to write the information he needed. You were this close to run away before he finished his called. âSoâŠyou kept them?â he asked you.
You looked innocently, like you didnât understand what he was asking. When he started to laugh, you immediately looked down again. You felt stupid. But when Xavier slowly put his hand on your check and encouraged you to lift your face up, you didnât feel anything anymore. âIâm glad you liked them.â He said softly. He then brought his face closer to yours, which almost made you faint, to whisper in your ear. âAnd they come with a little surprise.â
That was how you discovered Xavierâs power.
Not long after that day, you started to hang out with his friends. They were allâŠpretty amazing, you had to admit. You hated the fact they were all magic and everything and you were just⊠you. But they all made sure that you never felt inferior, or not that much at least. And they did a really great job for that. Being with them was entertaining and interesting and you got to spend more time with Xavier, so yeah, no complaining.
Except for one thing. You really thought there could be something with Xavier after that day at the coffee. Especially when he started to offer you his drawings directly and to imply that he was thinking about you when he was doing them. You could tell it was less dark than before.  And you thought it meant something.
But then you saw how he was around Wednesday. He looked at her like he would protect her against everything. You quickly noticed how he was always by her sides. When he wasnât beside her, he was always making sure he could see her.Â
You liked Wednesday. She was a great friend. You liked how she was never pretending to be someone else and was always honest with you like she was with the others. You really, really, appreciated her.
But you were still jealous.
And there you were. At a party surrounding by everyone. And watching Xavier talking to Wednesday like he always did. You were almost leaving when Enid stopped you. âWeâre going to play some game, come here!â and it wasnât an invitation. It was mostly to tell you where she was taking you since she grabbed your hand and made you follow her through the room.Â
And they were all here, sitting on the floor in circling. You had a bad feeling about this. âIs thisâŠsome kind of truth or dare?â you asked.Â
âExactly!â Ajax answered. âExcept we can know if you lied.â You sighed at that thought and sat at the only empty space free: right in front of Wednesday and Xavier. She kept looking at you and you offered her a gentle and sincere smile. You couldnât not like that girl. You simply wished she wasnât stealing your crush.
The game started and it was pretty entertaining watching magic people play that. But of course, as a human, your dare ended up being prettyâŠordinary, you had to say. âKiss the person you find the prettiest in the room.â Bianca dared you.
You knew why she did that. But you couldnât do what she was excepting. You couldnât risk revealing your feelings to Xavier and being rejected in front of everybody. And losing him.
So got up. And walked. To Wednesday. You grabbed her face and kissed her without overthinking it. You heard some gasps but only focused on her lips and the way it took her a few seconds before she put a hand on your neck. It didnât last long but it did mark the night for sure.
âThat wasâŠunexcepted. But interesting.â She said, thinking about your kiss while looking at you. Like they were doing right now. Including, Xavier who seemed more confused than ever.
You couldnât handle all these eyes on you and run away from the party for good this time. You could already feel the tears growing in your eyes from the stupidity on your action. You had to stop for a second, just to check where you were going. And it was enough for Xavier to catch you. âHey, where are you going?âÂ
You could hear the amusement in his voice which made you pushed him away. âLeave me alone.â You mumbled, already walking back. But it wasnât like Xavier was going to let you leave like that. Not after he saw how upset you were. So he took your hand slowly this time, but with enough strength to make you stop.Â
âTalk to me. What happened there? Why did youâŠwhy?â he couldnât contain the little laugh at the end because it still seemed unreal to him that you kissed Wednesday. Not that she wasnât attractive or anything, he would be lying if he said anything like that. But he was 90% sure to know who you were going to kiss. And it wasnât the girl with the black hair.Â
âI donât know, ok! I mean. I do. ButâŠI donât want to tell.â You tried to cross your arms on your chest but since Xavier was still holding you, you just brought him closer to you. You loved how he was caressing your wrist slowly, making you feel protected. You almost gave in. Until you remembered why you were in that state. âIâm sorry for kissing your girlfriend, ok?â
âMyâŠwhat? No!â Xavier was confused and amused at the same time and damn you hated him for having such a beautiful smile. âWednesday is not my girlfriend. Sheâs just my friend.â At the same time, he wondered what could have made you think that he was dating her. Was he that bad with girls that you imagined things like that?
You sighed. âThen why are you always with her? Youâre always next to her like youâre scared for her, like you need to protect her like sheâs your girl! You always have an eye on her andâŠI donât know, I think like I donât exist when sheâs there.â You hated opening your heart like that, specially because you were sure you sounded pathetic. Xavier was going to laugh at you and said you were miserable and leave you alone, right?
Instead, Xavier put his other hand on your check like he loved to do and started to caress your skin with so much tenderness you almost melted. âI like her, sheâs one of my closest friends here. So yeah, I want to protect her, and I always will. But if you had paid more attention, you would have known that I was always looking at you.âÂ
âNo, you donât.â you replied, frowning. You were looking at Xavier way too much to know that. You would have notice, right? Or were you too concentrate on your jealousy to see it?
âYes, I do.â He laughed, pinching your wrist which made you groan before laughing too. And just when you thought everything was back to normal and you could get away with your stupid idea for that kiss, something seemed to light up in Xavierâs mind.Â
âWaitâŠdid you kissed Wednesday because you were jealous and thought that I was with her?â
You knew it was pointless, but you tried to run away, again. But again Xavier just pulled on your arm to bring you to him. This time, you ended up against his chest and as comfortable as it was, you had to look up to spill the truth. It was almost like the words didnât want to stay in your mind.Â
âIt sounded better in my head, ok? But I thought that I couldnât kiss you because it would have been too obvious that I like you too much so I decided to kiss her so I could taste your lips on hers andâŠâ you didnât get to finish that sentence.Â
Because Xavier gave you exactly what you were looking for during your kiss with Wednesday: a taste of his lips. He was just like you imagined him to be, soft and dominating at the same time. Like he was controlling every little second of that kiss, from the way his lips were moving on yours to how his tongue made in his way into your mouth and his hand was holding your neck to keep you close. But he was soft too with the way his hand was still brushing your wrist or how you could feel a smile growing on his lips like he just realized what he was doing.
Once he was done, he gently put his forehead against yours and brought his hand from your neck to your check. âYou could have asked; I would have given you a taste earlier.â He had this sweet, charming voice. And behind that flirty smile, you could tell he was sincere. You should have asked or be confident enough to kiss him. You wouldnât have lost any time overthinking his interactions with Wednesday. You could have used that time being in his arms earlier.
You put a kiss on his nose which made him laugh softly. âI know for next time now.âÂ
âWhen is next time?â He asked, frowning. Because if your first was quite chaotic, but memorable, what you didnât imagine was that Xavier was dying to kiss you for weeks now. He had tones of drawings reminding him of you in his room until you started talking to each other. He dreamt about you so many nights that he guessed some people from school you knew about it. And, well, Wednesday was the perfect annoying friend reminding him that he still hadnât try to get you and that he might lose you if he never does.Â
If it was up to him, he would be kissing you all the time. But he guessed now he had all the pleasure to make up for the lost time.Â
âWhat about now?â You offered.
You stayed like that for a few more minutes, just flirting together and kissing each other a lot. You couldnât resist Xavierâs perfect lips. When a moan escaped his lips the one time you hold his hair, you knew you had so many things to try with that boy. Just like you felt his hands exploring your body with fineness, like he wanted to remember your curve to draw them.Â
In the end, you decided to go back to your place. You didnât want to ruin the party more, even though Xavier kept telling you that you werenât ruining anything. âJust tell Wednesday that sheâs a good kisser and itâs not her fault I didnât chose her.â You laughed, but still wanting to make sure you didnât lose a friend in the process. And then you started to walk home, your head full of thoughts about a guy with long hair, a beautiful smile and magic hands.
âOh, and by the way.â You turned around to look at Xavier. He was standing against a tree, his arms crossed against his chest. You wanted to run and hug him one last time, but you stayed there, appreciating the picture. With his messy hair and the genuine smile on his face. âI like you too much too.â This time you couldnât resist and went to steal one last kiss from him.
Maybe you were stupid. But at least you were stupidly in love with the most wonderful guy you knew and that was worth it.
follow @softtdaisywordsâ to know when new stories are released đ€
#xavier thorpe#xavier thrope x reader#xavier thorpe imagine#xavier Thorpe fluff#xavier Thorpe x you#xavier Thorpe x y/n#percy hynes white#percy hynes white x reader#percy hynes white fluff#percy hynes white imagine#percy hynes white x you#percy hynes white x y/n#Wednesday#wednesday netflix#my writing
527 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi! your request says open and i was hoping if you can do kick x reader, where the reader is playing uno with him. while playing, they get a bit frustrated since kick beat them in 2 rounds and now they both have one uno card. kick takes this as his advantage and decides to flirt with the reader with, "computer techs have skilled fingers if you know what I mean" and the reader is stund and kick immediately says uno then the reader is irritated by him and his wins. it's ok if your busy but thank you !!
-đ
A/NđȘ¶: Thank you for your request! I legit could not find a single fic/drabble/one-shot with Kick so seeing a request for him was really exciting. I hope you enjoy this! Also, the concept is so perfect, 10/10, would daydream about this specific scenario again.
Warnings: Fluff, Uno-induced rage, Swearing, Flirting, Suggestiveness, gn!Reader, only âyouâ used for reader,
Word Count: 723
Gotcha, Kick x Reader short
The two of you sat on the ground, the thickness of your pants and heavy boots protecting your skin from its cool surface. There were two stacks of cards between you and Kick. One stack face down, the Uno logo facing upwards, that you would pick from when you needed more cards. The other face up, cards being stacked every turn and changing color or number. The stacks were about even at this point, thanks to you picking up so many to try to get back at Kick for his +2âs and +4âs and color-changing cards. He probably had cards he was hiding⊠you quickly threw that thought away.Â
Itâs Uno for Godâs sake, no one cheats at Uno!
âAre you gonna put down a card? Or is it time to pick up another 10?â He asked. Youâd been staring at your cards for a while now.
âIt wasnât 10! It was only 8!â You argued, defensive. You went back to looking at your cards, a pout sat on your lips. If you looked back at Kick, you wouldâve seen the way he scanned your face. His hand slowly picked up a card from the deck that faced down and handed it to you so that only you could see what it was.
Motherfucker.Â
Of course heâd pick up exactly what you need. Heâd been the only one getting any of the good cards. You looked him in the eye, frown deepened, and snatched the card out of his hand. He just had that same stupid smile that heâs had for the last two rounds.
In a fit of irritation, you slam down the yellow +2. Before you can make some smart-ass remark, Kick calmly put down a green +2 on top. He looked back at you and your flabbergasted expression.
He starts chuckling.
âBut- How long did you have that on you?!â
âI held onto it until I needed it.â He tapped his index finger against his temple. âInstinct, my friend. Save your life someday.âÂ
Your eyebrows almost touched with the rage on your face. You picked up 4 cards and put down a yellow 5 as you angrily muttered to yourself.
âDamn cards, damn Uno⊠Damn instinct, I have instinct, I use my instincts every day.â You kept grumbling as you both placed cards almost rhythmically until you both had one.
âHowâd you even get that card?â
âThe one I picked for you?â
âYeah!â
âWell, you shuffled them and you wouldâve gotten it anyway soâŠâ You pouted again.
âYou have to have magic hands or something.â
âNot magic, sweetheart, just skill.â
âSkill?â Your tone gave away your doubt.
Kick smiled at you, you could feel your face warm.
âComputer techs have very skilled hands and fingers.â He stared at you, unblinking. If your face was warm before, the euphemism made it burn. He continued.
âGotta know how to move them quickly, to just the right spot. Canât risk anything in the heat of the moment.â You couldnât formulate a single sentence. Your neurons were shot. Kick slowly put his last card down.
âUno. I win again.â You were still unmoving. Kick leaned forward so you were making eye contact again. âCan you handle another round?â He asked. âI can shuffle the cards this time.âÂ
You swallowed the drool that had built up in your mouth and put your last card down.
âI give up. Iâm done.â You stood.Â
âDone? Really? Câmon, Iâll go easy on you this round.â
âItâs Uno! How do you go easy on someone in Uno?!â
âPlay another round and Iâll show you.â You looked at him, about to tell him to fuck off until you saw the look he wore. Kick still had that stupid smirk on his face as he stared back at you. He leaned back, legs crossed and arms holding him up. You stuttered, trying to find words.Â
Before you could, Kick brought one of his hands up and crooked his index finger to his palm twice, telling you to come back without having to say anything. Your whole body warmed. You thought about leaving, the door cracked open just a bit behind you. You thought back to Kickâs jokes.
âGotta know how to move them quicklyâŠâÂ
You brought your attention back to Kick. Without taking your eyes off of him, you closed the door.Â
#call of duty#call of duty ghosts#call of duty ghosts kick#call of duty kick#kick call of duty#kick#kick x reader#kick x gn!reader#kick x m!reader#kick x f!reader#kick ghosts#ghosts kick#uno#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fanfiction#cod ghosts#cod ghosts fanfic#cod ghosts fanfiction#cod kick#kick cod#quill writes
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Promise- Chapter Eleven
**Warning ** this chapter does have some descriptions that could be triggering to those with/recovering from an ED. I find it therapeutic to write about it as I recover from my own ED.
âHold tight, sweetheart,â Dwayne lifted my hand, kissing the back of my hand. Then, the four men kickstarted their bikes. I yelped, holding on as tight as possible once the four men began driving. They were going a lot faster than the previous night. The cold wind hit my face, so I ducked it to rest between his shoulder blades. My left cheek felt like I had set it on hot sand, burning and tingling with the skin-to-skin contact. I felt my eyelids begin to close now that the adrenaline was wearing off.Â
I had almost fallen asleep, holding looser, when the bikes abruptly stopped. I grunted and yawned, trying to force my eyes to open. My tiredness was seeping through my bones, making my eyelids feel like cement when I felt a hot hand on my cheek. It was rough, full of callouses, but yet so gentle.Â
âMia bella,â Marko reached out, stroking my cheek with his thumb. âOpen those beautiful eyes.â I did as he asked, finally forcing them to open. He grinned. âSuch a good girl.â
âIâll carry you down,â Paul said, even though my body had frozen at Markoâs last sentence. I breathed out, feeling as if the world was floating around me. Marko grinned, sharing a glance with David.Â
Paul lifted me off the bike. I was carried away from the motorcycle, bridal style. When I noticed that he was going for the steep staircase, descending into their hideaway, I gripped Paul a little tighter. I prayed he wouldnât let me fall because the stairs dropped fifty to a hundred feet. I whined when each step jostled my hip bone, causing radiating pain. âIâm sorry, love. Iâm sorry,â Paul kept murmuring, not stopping the descent.Â
Dwayne had gone first, disappearing into the side of the cliffs. Marko and David followed behind Paul and me. I didnât want to see the descent, so I rested my chin on Paulâs shoulder, facing Marko and David. Marko kept making funny and strange faces at me to try to distract me. I let out watery chuckles, trying not to drown in the waves of mounting pain. I know Paul felt horrible that every step he took was causing me pain.Â
âSet her down,â Dwayne stated when we finally entered their âcave.â Which I guess wasnât a euphemism for their man hang-out and was an actual cave. Paul strode across the room, setting me down on a couch. âLetâs get this jacket off.â
I let Dwayne remove his jacket from my body. It revealed the mesh sweater I was wearing underneath. Paul took the jacket, setting it to the side before Dwayneâs hands were on the hemline of my shirt. I took in a deep breath, anxious at the fact that they would remove the covering that hid my body from view.Â
âLook at me,â Davidâs stern voice cut through the loud thundering of my heart. I looked into his pale eyes, on the verge of a panic attack. âWe need to look at your injuries, baby. Just relax.â
Almost immediately, I felt calmer than I had before. The longer I stared into those pale blue eyes, the more my anxiety waned until it was snubbed out like a candle wick. I felt boneless, keeping my eyes on David when Dwayne finally removed the outer layer of clothing. The guys exchanged surreptitious looks when they saw my skeletal form for the first time.Â
They saw how my bones protruded from the skin. They could map out every single vein in my body due to how thin and stretched my skin was over the bones. Marko was suddenly urged to hit someone, and Paul wanted to force me to eat ice cream. Dwayne and David remained the calmest, mentally advising the other two to get a handle on their emotions.Â
Dwayne pushed me forward, looking down at the bruises littering my back. Having calmed a bit, Paul traced my prominent vertebrae with gentle fingers. I shivered at the feeling of ghosting hands touching my bare skin. Dwayne prodded along the darkening bruises to ascertain if anything was broken.Â
He could only see so much since the tank top obscured his vision. Dwayne held his breath when he pushed up the thin material to reveal the worst bruising. His calloused hands caressed my skin as Dwayne pushed the material upwards. I heard Dwayne hiss, cursing under his breath when he saw the vast marks littering my back.Â
David stood from his position, kneeling in front of me, to look at the bruising. He was silent, but he exuded a cloud of rage. My skin pebbled with goosebumps as I reacted to his emotions. I watched as he took off, disappearing into the depths of their home, lost from sight.Â
âIâm sorry,â I cried, eyes wide as I watched for his form to return.Â
âDonât be sorry, baby,â Paul stroked my hair as he spoke softly. âHeâs not mad at you.â Paul interpreted why I was apologizing with shocking clarity. âHe wants to go back and kill the fuckers that put their hands on you.â
âIâm alright,â I whispered, overwhelmed by their response. I wasnât sure why they were so up in arms; it was only a few bruises. Justin had done worse, and he hadnât cared about the injuries. The only one who fixed my injuries was myself because I didnât want Mom to know what he was doing.Â
âYour back will be sore for a while,â Dwayne finally spoke after inspecting the area. He had pressed, ensuring that no bones were broken. Once finished, Dwayne gently pulled my tank top back down to cover the expanse of my back. âI need to see your hip now, though.â
I flushed, realizing that meant removing my pants. My fingers began to shake at the thought, but I brought them down to the button of my pants. My fear filled their entire cave to the point they could taste the sharp, acrid scent. David returned from the cave depths, having smelled and felt the fear in the air. He shared a glance with the other three, who were trying to comfort me but speaking through their mindbond in utter panic.Â
Marko decided to make the first move. He came from around the side of the couch, leather chaps creaking with every step. Marko knelt in front of me, reaching a hand to stroke at the soft skin of my cheek.Â
âWe would never hurt you, Mia Cara,â Marko murmured. As I looked into his green eyes, I saw the sincerity. Even though he was usually the mischievous one of the group, they were all serious at the moment. âNone of us would touch you in a way you didnât approve, sweetheart.â
âBaby, talk to us,â Paulâs voice was soft and tiny. I looked around me, feeling a weird warmth emulating from my soul at the proximity of all four men. I didnât want to be strong anymore, but I barely knew these four. They could just be playing a trick, but something in my soul cried that they werenât the type to play such a cruel trick like this.Â
Chapter Twelve
#david tlb#emerson sister#the lost boys david#the lost boys dwayne#the lost boys marko#the lost boys x emerson sister#fanfiction#the lost boys paul#david x reader#dwayne x reader#tw eating issues#tw disordered eating
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unlikely Friendship-Child's Play (1988) and Stranger Things Crossover
Warnings: Crossover AU, many apects of the ending of Stranger Things season 4 were ignored for this. Eddie Munson moves to Chicago and gets adopted by meets the Barclays. Background Eddie x Reader (reader is named). Happy fic with an A Nightmare On Elm Street-like open ending.
Summary: Little Andy Barclay develops a peculiar fascination when he meets the boyfriend of his substitute babysitter, a neigbor from his building that keeps an eye on him whenever Maggie is unavailable. His mother is highly skeptical of him due to his strange attitude and threatening appearance, but Eddie's kindness of heart would end up surprising her.
Notes: The name I picked for the reader (Lily) i did because I wanted a flower name to match with Maggie and I really like that one. Also, the flower represents a few things in her characterization and plot function. Not intending to make it even more of a self insert or anything
Tags: @losersclubisms
The neighbors of the building were for most living immersed in their own problems and Karen didnât expect anyone to care for hers. Being a prideful woman herself, she wouldnât have seeked any support networks among them. There was not much on their part besides some volatile offerings during small talk that often sounded more like charity than friendly help born from true involvement. A kind young girl on the down floor was the only exception, she had been babysitting Andy from time to time since the first moment she had to leave him for a job interview. The deal was arranged as a spontaneous thing meant to last just for that occasion, but it kept repeating sporadically. The little boy responded well to her and his adorable sweetness won her over, so she felt more than happy to help. As their bond became more stable Karen insisted on offering her payment almost every single time, but she would end up accepting only a minimal fraction attempting to show she truly cared for her family untill she would understand it. Â
A cordial, reciprocal solidarity based friendship began to develop between both women. They were both struggling in their different ways, Lily didnât have a good relationship with her mother and she would often come to her asking for advice on countless topics. From work problems to romantical advice, anything that would be floating around in her mind she would share it with her. Karen was quite concerned about the guy she was seeing, from the tales she heard he seemed quite eccentric and describing him like that would be an euphemism. It wouldnât take much time for some of her guesses to be confirmed, since she got to meet him quite quickly as the relationship advanced.Â
If she would have come across him on the streets, his threatening looks would have probably scared her. The long haired young man dressed in black leather and jeans carrying tons of jewelry with strange symbols didnât inspire her much trust. Even less the first words she heard him say overhearing the couple talking before they noticed her and her boy coming in close to them.
â Iâm going to keep taking you home, babe. I have reasons to be worried, there is a maniac on the loose! Well, another one besides me, of course. â He joked, making the girl chuckle. â How long do you think itâs going to take for local metal bands to catch up on that? Every impactufll psycho eventually gets their song."
â Until police would catch him, I hope. âÂ
Their conversation got inmediately interrupted by Andy's pure excitement.
" Hi Lily!!!" He happyly saluted, quickly catching attention before his mother could say anything. " Nice to see you!!"
Her expression was brightfull for the cute surprise.
" Andy!!! How are you, darling?"
He was all smiles before replying.
" Good, doing all kinds of stuff. "
The curious eyes of the kid were fixated on the man beside her, his attention focused in his unusual appearance.
In the meantime, Karen followed with more kind salutes.
" Good evening, dear. Excuse us for the intrussion. "
The young neighbor was happy to see her.
" You are never intruders, i have wanted to do the presentations from quite some time. "
" I handle it from here, sweetheart. " The man followed her. " A pleasure to meet you, from all I have heard I guess you must be Karen. I'm Eddie, and i have the honor of dating this lovely lass."
Andy chuckled, the self introduction somehow reminded him of a Robin Hood he saw in a puppet show.
He once more spoke in advance
" Hi, Eddie! I'm Andy!!!"
Eddie responded while offering him a handshake.
" Nice to meet you, Andy!!"
There was no glimpse of fear in the boy, only a strange fascination. He was paying attention to all the details in his jewelery, specially the rings.
" Woooow! What's that?"
The kid had clearly pointed one of the skull shaped ones.
" Well, it's how all of us look from the inside. When we die, that's what's left. "
The answer was too disturbing and it weirded the mother.
" That's enough, honey. We are going home. "
As the small family followed its route, Eddie still intended to apologise.
" Sorry, Mrs Barclay! i'm not a big fan of lying to kids, I will try to be less terrifying next time."
It was hard for her to understand what was that girl seeing in him. The first awkard interaction didn't do much for his reputation, but she would notice her so in love and the whole thing was a mistery to her.
However, her son was another story. The strange man must have caused a great first impact in him, because he wouldn't stop talking about him. Everytime his neighbor would be babysitting him, he would ask her about Eddie. When was he coming to see her?, What was he doing? and Could he come to play? where some of the most usual ones. At one given time it occured to him that they could call him and she had to invent some excuse to avoid indulging him. During their next cassual encounter in the building the metalhead was carrying his guitar and the kid wouldn't let him be. He even attempted to beg his mother if they could invite him for dinner so he could show him his music.
When he saw him for the fourth time Andy came to him for a hug and asked him if he would be his friend. Eddie looked at Karen, bright smile in his face caused by the shocking reaction of the child, indirectly asking for her approbation before giving any answers.
She couldn't refuse, not when her son seemed so happy. That didn't mean she wouldn't bombard Lily with questions about her boyfriend. She already knew they have in the record store where he worked, only job Karen imagined that would have allowed him to keep that style. Admitting she was understanding of why she would find him a bit rough arround the edges, her neighbor promised he would surprise her if she would give him time. His kind heart and sense of humor had her infatuated since the first date, she had no doubt more people would be able to see the good in him.
Watching an instant on any of the interactions he had with the boy was enough to make one suspect there had to be more about him than what meets the eye. Eddie had managed to connect with Andy in such an unique form. He seemed to understand him in ways no one else in his close circle did, they somehow related to each other. His impressive, highly developed imagĂnation was doing great as a developmental stimulation source for the little boy either while telling stories or playing games. Karen saw it happening by herself on his first short visits coming to pick up Lily after the babysitting. The positive impact on her child slowly began to change her mind about him.
The definitive step that seiled a start of true bonding between them happened spontaneously and with a very strange timing.
It was the morning of Andy's sixth birthday and facing her son's dissapointment with the gifts she could buy for him had crushed her. She brought him clothes and the only Good Guy brand set of toys she could afford. An accessory playset, while he wanted the doll meant to go with it. A good while after the present unboxing Andy got the first birthday call of the day. Their happy couple of neighbors wanted to give their salutes early and Karen pretended not to hear the sadness in her boy's voice while telling Eddie about his presents.
Minutes afterwards they were at their doorstep and the smiling metalhead was carrying a huge wrapped box. Karen couldn't believe her eyes and the disbelief was evident. To the ' no way' in her expression, Eddie's complicit mischievousness seemed to confirm her it was, Indeed, very possible. The pridefull smile of his girlfriend showed it was probably his idea. She knew which presents the mother was planning to get for the kid and probably just commented to her boyfriend about it before deciding what they were going to do.
" Good Morning, Karen! Where is the birthday boy? I have this thing my princess has been hidding for him in her appartment."
Andy rushed to the sound of his voice, but remained skeptical to the sight of the package.
" We tricked you, little buddy!!! Do you think your mom was going to leave the big one in plain sight?" Eddie cheerfully encouraged him to approach, pretending he was carrying the box for Karen. " This is all an elaborated scheme to surprise you. The little one Karen gave you is ours, we were hidding hers all along. "
It was enough to get the kid excited again.
" Really? Woooow!!!"
" We have no idea of what's inside, but it's kind of heavy." The man followed, exaggerating with his mannerisms the effort of carrying the box to later support it at the floor level." Why don't you take a look for me?"
The three adults remained expectant and when the kid ripped off the paper mother and son were one in the surprise.
" A Good Guy, I know it!!" Andy cheered towards her. " I knew you would get me one!!!"
Karen gave a side look to Eddie while he played the fool, comical fake innocence almost getting a chuckle from her.
It was unbelievable, the excuse was so perfectly crafted that she had no time to object before he presented the doll in her name.
" A Good Guy doll for the nicest kid in the neighborhood. " Eddie spoke because Karen couldn't. " It fits, rĂght? Your mom is a genius."
Andy glanced at him for an instant and smiled, then rushed to hug her.
" Ohh, mom. Thanks!!"
" You are welcome, honey. " She lovefully replied. " but you should also thank Eddie and Lily for helping me hide it. Without them, the surprise wouldn't have been so great. Don't you think?"
The boy nodded affirmatively and kissed her cheek before following her suggestion.
" Happy Birthday, buddy!!!" Eddie cheered while receiving him. " Aren't you excited to play now?
" Thanks, Eddie! Will you play with me?"
The metalhead didn't hesitate in reassuring him.
" Sure I will, we are going to play such cool story games that Good Guy Show will want to hire me to write for them."
The boy's eyes were open wide and the excitement accompanied him when he gave the girl her time to be hugged.
" Thank you, Lily, for my friends. " He sweetly said to her and she understood the phrase implied two different things.
Convinced of the tale they told him, he was thanking her for hidding the doll with her. However, in his childish way he also tried to thank her for bring Eddie into his life.
" You are welcome, sunshine. " She inmediately responded. " I love them too. "
A silent instant of shared smiles completed the moment, then she tried to create a good excuse to get him occupied so her boyfriend and the mother would have their needed space to talk.
" Hey, Andy! The box says your new best friend needs batteries. I have a singing rabbit plushie at home, so I know how this things work. Wanna follow me so we can power up your buddy?"
He happyly obbeyed, leaving Karen free to interrogate Eddie.
" So, you finally learned how to lie to kids ⊠You didn't have to do this. How the hell did it occur to you? Do you know how fucking expensive that thing is?"
He tried to ignore the fact that hearing her swear was kind of shocking.
" Hell i know, but I was sure Andy would want it. Good Guy Show is all he talks about and the ads are everywhere."
The answer frustrated her, he would say that as if she wasn't already aware of that.
" Why couldn't you just wait untill I would get one for him? "
" He would have never ask you directly, he knows you can't afford it."
The rĂght guess in his thought process felt a bit too personal. It was one of those moments where Karen felt as if the man would be trying to prove he knew Andy better than her even when that wasn't his intention.
" And how exactly did you got it?"
It was an important question he trully didn't want to answer, even less to her accusatory tone.
" A magician never reveals his secrets, just enjoy the magic."
She was not in the mood for more of his jokes.
" Eddie, I'm being serious. You are an adult and I shouldn't mess with your spending, but i'm older than you and I can't just allow you to commit this act of financial irresponsibility without having a say. "
She was showing true concern for him, so he was at least going to give him some of his reasons. Seeking to make her understand so he wouldn't have to explain more Eddie opened up to her like never before.
" Listen, Karen. I come from a trailer park in a small town forgotten by God in some corner of Indiana. My uncle took me in on his own and it was just the two of us against the entire fucking town. I know how your son feels, he just wants a nice toy and a friend to play with. Believe it or not, I understand your powerlessness too because i saw it happening while growing up. If i can make it better for another struggling family, one that by the way I really care a lot about, I'll do it even if I have to go broke for it."
It was then when she got to discover he trully had a heart of gold, the breaking surprise her neighbor prophetized.
" I'm so thankfull, but please take care of yourself. " She tenderly nagged him while approaching for a hug. " I promise I will find a way to repay you. "
" You don't have to, but if you insist, just think of me if Ozzy adds concert dates near here on his next tour. "
It was a joke, he chuckled to let her know he was just messing with her.
Her son and his girlfriend returned to find her kindly fixing the loose locks of his messy hair.
Andy was happyly showing his unboxed doll.
" Mommy, mommy!!! Come to see this!!! "
The three adults silently shared their relief for the accomplishment.
Andy wasnât completely unaware of the implicit secrecy around him despite not being sure of its reason. It made his smile acquire a shade of mischievousness, wondering if there was another surprise.Â
â You tricked me again! â He complained to the young man, slightly frustrated. â How you do it?âÂ
Before he could get to answer, Karen did it for him.Â
â I invited him to your party, thatâs the last surprise.â She announced, matter that was never discussed before. â Lily can bring Eddie after work to play and have cake if thatâs fine for them.âÂ
Trying the doll was the only thing that could have possibly redirected the kidâs excitement after getting to hear that. Fascinated as he was with its startup phrase introducing itself as Chucky, he encouraged every single one of them to talk to it.Â
Chucky and Eddie were all he would be talking about for the rest of the day. Although his mom couldnât be present for the occasion because work forced her to miss it, he would still comment on it with Maggie over and over. Best friend and coworker of Karen, she was his main babysitter and the most trustable emergency contact. Usually, the neighbor girl would come whenever she was unavailable.
They had met, so she was aware of her, but on the many times Andy would mention Eddie he referred to him as his friend and never specified he was the backup sitterâs boyfriend. In fact, the way he would speak of him didnât differentiate him much from a child. Karen told her about the kind hearted lad showing up at her doorstep with the doll her son wanted, but the differential descriptions made her think she and Andy were talking of two different persons.
Opening the door for a threatening looking grownass man followed by his contrastingly sweet appearing girlfriend was not what she had in mind.Â
The visits were initially unaware of the change and, since they were hoping to find Karen, seeing someone else confused them too.
" Sorry, wrong place. "Maggie said as soon as she saw him, almost shutting the door if she wouldn't have recognized the girl beside him. " Is this guy coming with you? Look, Lily. Karen isn't home because Walter forced her to take other shift to cover up for someone else. I have been warned Andy is waiting for a friend to show up, but i will be fine on my own dealing with the two kids. "
The couple shared a few chuckles, unsure of how they were going to explain the hilarious misunderstanding.
" Well, if you think so i'll pick him up at nine. "The girl responded, acting on purpose as if she would be leaving a kid at the birthday party of his little friend. " Have fun, Eddie! Listen to Maggie and don't get yourself in trouble."
He followed the joke pretending child like excitement.
Maggie got the message, but was still quite shocked.
" So, this is Eddie ⊠If you would hear the way that kid talks of you, you would get why I was waiting for a child."
" My teachers used to say i'm one in spirit as some flattering, euphemistical replace for inmature as fuck. " He mocked himself, trying to overcome the awkwardness. " I guess I should let you judge by yourself. "
She rolled her eyes and let both in.
" No swearing in front of the boy. If I hear one curse word coming from Andy, I'm going to know he got it from you. "
He smiled and did a gallant reverence before stepping in.
" Worry not, Margareth, for I will keep the manners of a knight."
Lily chuckled as he guided her inside to later kiss her knucles and do the same for Maggie.
" Calm down, Shakespeare. " She mocked him in return. " Don't piss me off and we are going to be fine. "
" I could never not behave accordingly in the presence of such lovely ladies. " He insisted, sticking to the character for a little bit. " Margareth and Lily, the most beautifull flowers on the little prince's garden. "
She amusedly ignored the compliment.
" Andy, you friend is here!!!!"
In a matter of instants the presence of Eddie revolutioned the home. The quiet playtime of the little boy was over, since the energy of the metalhead would incentivate him to go nuts. It literally finished turning the situation into something closer to a birthday party, music incluided. Aware that Andy was super curious about his guitar, he would have preferred to play something by himself. However, since Karen just started to like him and he guessed that would be too much for her, he lĂmited himself to bringing a mixtape with the most palatable music for a general audiencie that he owned. When questioned about it, he simply said there was nothing on it heavier than Metallica mixed with some radio friendly hard rock.
Maggie stopped caring for his strange excuses once she saw Andy jumping all over the place to Led Zeppelin's ' Rock and Roll ' while holding his doll so he could pretend it was doing the same. He was acting like a happy kid on a birthday should despite that was happening in a very unconventional way. In fact, she wished she could have videotaped it for Karen to see. The hairstyle of the doll was completely ruined during Andy's attempts of making it replicate the movements of Eddie, who would also try to encourage everyone else to join them.
She got more material for her self deprecating and ironical dating jokes. When asked about it she could say that at least part of her night involved being dragged to move by a twenty somethings and out of context it would work.
The calm part of it was still full of games that were more intense than what she would have expected from Andy's usual playing behavior. He tried to show Eddie the way that the Good Guy Show lore pre imagined for him to play with Chucky, but the man kept challenging it.
" We are going to think outside the box here, Andy, ⊠literally speaking. " He was kindly explaining his point. " The Playpal guys say Chucky has only six options depending on the accesories we can buy for him, but he can be anything we want if we dare to imagine it and we don't need any more sets for that. "
Sat on the floor rĂght next to him and in front of the doll, the kid was observing it as if he had the most amazing realization.
" But we have the construction worker set, what else can we make him be?" He asked in a wondering tone. " What do you think ?"
" I don't know, but we can have fun figuring out. " Eddie followed him. " For example, with that flaming red hair and the hammer, I believe he could be a dwarven blacksmith who craftes magical weapons and beautifull jewelery. "
The idea seemed appealing to the kid simply because he made it sound way cooler.
" Mom sells jewelery, Chucky can make it for her. " Andy agreed. " Don't you, Chucky?"
Following the whole thing while trying to keep a conversation with Maggie, Lily was undone from tenderness feeling as if her heart would be about to explode holding all that love for Eddie. She couldn't help excusing herself and do an Intervention to help him out.
" We can make him look more dwarvish, we just have to make some little changes."
She attempted to transform Chucky into a fantasy dwarf using one of her boyfriend's bracelets as necklace for the doll and adding the touch of one of the pending chains from his pants circling the hip to represent a belt.
" I will add a few cool dwarvish braids in his hair and that's it." She pridefully informed. " He would be ready for forge work or battle. "
" He still needs a battle axe, but that one comes in the fireman playset. " Eddie joked, still admiring the work. " Be carefull with that, babe. Braiding hair is a marriage proposal gesture in his culture. "
Andy seemed quite surprised and she pretended to follow him for an instant.
" Well, I can play as Chucky's bride. Surely he will not mind."
" Over my dead body!!!" Eddie exaggerated on purpose, making the kid laugh. " I'm going to challenge him to a duel for your hand. "
" Andy should decide who I should marry, it's his birthday and you are his friends. What do you say, birthday boy?"
" I don't want them to fight. " He sweetly admitted. " Friends shouldn't fight."
Maggie couldn't help bursting into laughter many times while watching the madness escalate. Eddie convinced Andy of enacting the duel, but it ended up as playfull fighting between them while Lily finished braiding Chucky's hair.
Some of the fictional escenarios they were collectively coming up with were hard to follow, so the woman eventually got bored and sat on the couch to watch tv.
" Pardon me, Margareth, but we are in the middle of a quest to destroy a dark wizard and you are ruining the ambience!!" Eddie complained at some point. " Are you sure you don't want to be the wise witch guiding us? I'm offering you the coolest role."
He made her chuckle, she couldn't pretend to be upset anymore despite she would still make him a target of her sarcasm.
" That sounds great, but i think the dark wizard can wait untill after the cake. "
Once Andy blew the candles surrounded by happy cheering and had a piece of his cake he began to feel tired from all the exciting playing. Noticing it as well, Eddie explained him that they didn't have to complete the quest all in once. Relieved and happy, the boy finished the day with some of the standard playing with the construction set and his Good Guy back in the classical look. In the meantime, Eddie insisted in helping Maggie clean to compensate her for all the chaos of the night.
Bedtime was near when the little boy delivered one last weird occurence.
" Aunt Maggie, Chucky wants to watch the nine o clock news."
She shared complicit glances with Eddie as he pilled up the clean dishes that had to be saved, initially thinking Andy's plead was some joke to ignore the bedtime and keep playing with him.
"Sure, he does."
Lily tried not to chuckle, feeling almost sure of what the thing was about.
The news presenter mentioned the Lakeshore Strangler, Eddie's most recent fixation. He obviously wasn't talking about that with Andy, but he must have been aware of that because her boyfriend was talking about it with her the same day the kid meet him.
"Don't worry, sweetie. He can watch the repetition at twelve. " She tranquilized him in sweet whispers as Maggie approached. " You should go to rest."
His aunt turned off the tv and picked him up in order to carry him to the bedroom, while the substitute sitter carried Chucky a similar way. The kid obediently proceeded to go brush his teeth in the bathroom, when the sudden bombing of tv sound freaked them out.Â
Eddie was sitting on the couch, staring at them innocently like a child that tries to deny doing mischief.Â
â Iâm done with the chores ⊠Can I watch the news, Aunt Maggie?â He pleaded by himself. â Itâs very important, I wouldnât ask it otherwise. They are on the case Iâm following.âÂ
â Again with that? â Lily wondered out loud. â Charles Lee Ray is dead. It 's over, love.âÂ
â His accomplice has escaped. â He summarized for her. â Police get the right Eddie this time and they let him escape. Can you believe it?âÂ
â Why is it such a big deal for you?â Maggie seriously asked him. â The hell are you talking about?âÂ
Following the conversation and remaining attentive to the screen was hard, especially because one of the women was in front of it. He didnât want to explain his full reasoning, but she was cornering him so he had to say something.
â I know it sounds creepy and Iâm a total freak, just don't get upset with Andy. He must think that the Strangler is to me what the Good Guy show is to him, thatâs why he said that. I never spoke about it with him, I swear. He must have overheard me and he just wanted to be nice. âÂ
â If you say so, I wonât deny it: you are a freak.â Maggie simply stated. â ⊠but you make that kid happy so I guess I have to get used to it.â
â Eddie is not a weirdo obsessed with a killer just because his partner in crime has his same name, he has valid reasons to feel the way he does. â His girlfriend interrupted, sweetly approaching to sit beside him. â There was a series of ritualistic murders happening in his old town and the people wrongfully targeted him and his friends just because they looked suspicious to them. When things seem to work out, he moves here trying to leave everything behind and some guy starts doing a similar thing. He was terrified of being targeted by the police all over again, he would be trying to hide it from me through silly dark jokes.âÂ
He was very thankful of not having to explain the situation himself, unsure of how to present it in a way that wouldnât ruin things.Â
â I elaborated an exhaustive list of reasons proving I could never be the Strangler just in case they would come to interrogate me, if there was going to be a second time I wanted to be ready.âÂ
â Holy shit, thatâs terrible!â Maggie exclaimed, feeling truly sorry for him. â I canât imagine how horrible it would be to be blamed for a crime I didnât commit. Did they eventually catch the guy?âÂ
â I like to believe I helped to serve justice somehow.â He vaguely explained. â Charles Lee Ray was the most faithful reflection of everything people said I was, I felt relieved when they identified him as the Lakeshore Strangler and I followed his case intensely because I wanted to feel sure cops werenât fucking up again. The dude who was shot in a toy store last night wasnât an unlucky scapegoat and nobody will be coming after me again saying Iâm a killer for the way I dress, the game i play or the music I listen to.âÂ
Maggie stopped obstructing the screen.Â
â I was kind of a bitch to you, sorry for that. You may be weird, but I can tell you are a great guy.âÂ
The recognition got a genuine smile from him.Â
â No problem, Iâm used to it.âÂ
â I tell him all the time that I feel lucky to have him, but he says Iâm insane.â Lily continued, seeking to cuddle from her position beside him. â He is wonderful, maybe Iâm a bit guilty of trying to make the world love him as much as I do.âÂ
He gave her a soft peck on the lips and they smiled at each other before he proceeded to share bits of their story.Â
â I love this woman from the very first moment she smiled at me after having asked me for the dullest hair metal record that she wanted to buy mostly for the power ballad single. She was so lovely, I became a mess and I couldnât care less for my artistic principles. For her I ended up listening to that damn Whitesnake record during the in-between dates time, closing my eyes to think of her to Is This Love because I knew she loved that one and I was becoming a lovesick fool.âÂ
Their tenderness was very surprising to the woman observing them.Â
â Girl, Iâm going to end up asking you for dating advice.â Maggie mocked them, that time with plenty of good intentions. â Should I start attending metal concerts?âÂ
â We are on the same page, I follow Karenâs. â She honestly replied. â Well, except for that one time I didnât and I kept dating him.âÂ
The women chuckled and kept chatting, but he missed most of it because he got lost in his own thoughts while the heat of his girlfriendâs body was relaxing him. Eddieâs imagination was starting to connect the dots in many strange coincidences surrounding him and the story he intended to follow. Lee Ray and Caputo were partners in crime named exactly the same as Andyâs partners in playing. From the many names the Good Guys could have, the one he got for the kid was a Chucky and Chucky was short for Charles. The serial killer was shot by police in a toy store, last hideout resource when his friend abandoned him.
â Hey, handsome. Itâs your mind on the moon again?â Lily teased him sweetly, noticing he got very distracted. â Whatâs wrong?â
â Iâm gonna write the song, babe ⊠and I know what Iâm going to do.â He revealed, with determination. â Iâm going to write about the killer from the point of view of his friend, and it's going to be wrapped in a metaphor about childhood. Andy just inspired it to me, you know? We have a Chucky and Iâm an Eddie ⊠that â My best friend Chucky â thing. It 's perfect! âÂ
â What do you mean?â She stopped him before the rambling could escalate because she wanted to follow him. â Slow down and share it.âÂ
â Chucky IS Chucky.â He replicated with excitement. â Chucky is short for Charles, so doll Chucky is my metaphor for dude Chucky and Eddie is his best buddy. Committing crimes is like playtime for them, until the police arrive. Waking up from the fantasy of their murder spree is like growing up. Eddie becomes aware of the consequences and trying to escape those he leaves Chucky behind to die in the fucking toy store like a forgotten toy. âÂ
It was a bit too much, but she was quite impressed anyway.Â
â Itâs ⊠twisted, but brilliant! And you are going back to writing! Thatâs good, Iâm just so happy that Andy managed to inspire you somehow.âÂ
â Are you planning to launch your musical career with a lawsuit from Playpals? Because thatâs what you are going to get. â Maggie warned him. â Just try to keep yourself out of trouble, allright?âÂ
The casual demonstration of concern was well received by him.Â
â Yes, Aunt Maggie!âÂ
They intended to stay until Karen would return, but Maggie told them over and over that she was going to be alright on her own and they didnât have to. They were going to be in the building anyways, so if she needed anything she could just call them and they would be there for her.Â
Lily seemed uneasy, there was something else her boyfriend hadn't discussed with her and coming down from all the excitement surrounding them once they were back in her apartment made her aware of it.Â
â Where did you get the doll, Eddie?â She questioned him. â I had no money for it, as far as I know you didnât have it ⊠So where did it come from?âÂ
The ask was very rational, but at that point he would have preferred to avoid it.
â Why does it matter? Andy is happy and Karen will not have to lose all her savings for it.âÂ
â It matters to me because Iâm afraid you could have endangered our friends âÂ
She meant she feared he could be messing himself and others into something illegal and she had a point.Â
â It was alley money for a clean doll, alright? I got rid of the last shit I had left and with what I got from those sales I bought him a brand new doll from the store.â He finally confessed. â I paid in cash so there is no way to track it, just donât tell Karen. âÂ
There was no inmediate reaction, but when it came, her reply was way deeper than a moral objection.
â Andy told me something very curious today when we were unpacking the doll from the box. I kept calling it his best friend because thatâs the slogan of the brand, but he corrected me. He said Chucky is not his best friend, you are.âÂ
She held his hand holding back tears.Â
â If something happens to you, it would crush that kid. I want you to take care of yourself and Iâm not even doing it for us, but for him. He already lost his dad, he canât lose you in the most shitty way possible.âÂ
Eddie hugged her and began to caress her hair in a calming way.Â
â Easy, princess. itâs going to be ok, nothing bad will come to them or to us.âÂ
For once in his life, that seemed to be true. With some ups and downs, but things were working out. He had a day job that didnât suck while he could still keep working on his music, a wonderful girlfriend and one more friendship with a kid bringing out the best of him. Aware of Andyâs frustration for wanting to get little friends of his age, Eddie was slowly starting to teach him how to socialize in the way of the weird kids. He would constantly tell him about his younger friend from Hawkins who had three friends to play with since many years before meeting him. In some ways, he could be blamed for talking too pridefully about Dustin presenting him and his experience as the horizon for lonely freaky kids. To be fair, he would also comment with excitement to Dustin about the baby steps the little boy was making from time to time on their phone calls.Â
His first visit was an important event for everyone involved.By that point Andy had heard so many amazing stories about him that he hero worshiped Dustin despite the teenager was initially unaware of it.Â
" You are completely sold to that cute little brat, it is unbelievable. " Dustin concluded in whispers after observing an interaction between his friend and the kid for the first time. " I finally understand how Steve felt when I befriended you. "
Andy couldn't hear the talk because he was distant enough from them searching for some thing he desperatedly wanted to show them.
" We are lucky he isn't here. He would loose his shit over how tiny and cute that kid is, Msrs Barclay would never get rid of him."
They laughed because of how accurate that sounded to both.
" Karen could use one more free babysitter. " Eddie concluded. " C'mon, Dustin! I can't believe you are jealous of a six year old kid. "
" Well, he says you are his best friend and i thought WE were best friends. "
They were just messing with each other, but he still wanted to give him a good reminder of how important their friendship was.
" I owe you everything, you are practically my little brother. "
Eddie hugged him rĂght away and Dustin chuckled through it.
" Don't try to make me tear up!"
Briefly afterwards Andy returned proudly holding a piece of paper.
" I made this for you. " He explained to Dustin while handing him the paper. " ⊠and your friends. "
A drawing, classical little kid present. The teenager managed to distunguish at least four human figures in it surrounded by strange shit that was coming after them.
He smiled, unsure of what to say, so Andy provided a clarification.
" It's you fighting the monsters with them."
" Did you told him about the Upside Down? " He asked to Eddie, midly panicking. " How much does he know? "
" Chill, Karen and Maggie think is just nice tales I tell him. " Eddie defended himself. " Andy knows you are a hero."
Without any gestural warning the little boy rushed to hug Dustin.
" I want to fight monsters with my friends like you. "
The kid managed to awake his sentimental fiber.
" I wish you and the friends you will make will never have to, Andy. "
They all were awaiting for more introductions to be made. Since Eddie was introducing Dustin, Andy wanted them to meet the very first friend he managed to make in school. Lily was in charge of bringing him in, acting as trusting sitter and bridge between both families.
Eddie was particularly excited about it, from all comments he had heard the child was an old school freak in the making. He was a loner with an interest in fantasy and a labelled troublemaker.
The first impression didn't dissapoint.
" Nice shirt." The kid complimented him rĂght away, pointing at the Iron Maiden cover art in the shirt Eddie was wearing." Great taste. "
" Aren't you a bit young to know what this is?"
The questioning didn't bother him in the slightlest.
" Is she your girlfriend? "
" Yeah, she is. " Eddie confirmed. " She is Andy's sitter and i heard she will become yours soon too because everyone else has given up. "
He smiled at her, then replied.
" ⊠I like her. "
" Well, Lily is lovely so I can't blame you. " The metalhead added before introducing himself. " it's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Eddie. "
The boy was laughing, a bone chilling cackle that threw everybody off.
" What should I do with your Good Guy, sweetie?" Lily asked him, trying to overcome the awkward moment. " I wouldn't want to mix both by mistake, Andy has a Chucky too. "
#stranger things#child's play#eddie munson#andy barclay#karen barclay#maggie peterson#dustin henderson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things and chucky crossover
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Personal experiences with Gender Roles as an AFAB Transmasc
I know not everyone's big on describing yourself with your assigned gender, but for me, it is a pretty significant part of myself and my upbringing specifically. And that's kinda what this post is about.
Growing up as a nonbinary transmasc, there weren't a lot of opportunities for me to have strong feelings about my gender, whether that'd be dysphoria or euphoria.
Presenting masculine-ish as a girl is pretty easy. It's socially very acceptable. We even have a word for it. Tomboy. If there's a non-derogatory version for feminine-presenting boys, I'm not aware of it. I wasn't a full butch tomboy, I kept my hair long and happily wore dresses to special occasions. I also wasn't exposed to particularly strong gender roles. My godfather wore his hair long. My mom being a single mom meant she had to fill the dad role too. My grandparents were equal to each other, even if my grandma was the housewife and my grandpa was the breadwinner - roles that they mostly wrapped up by the time I came around. My gender expression was never about gender, really. It was about convenience. Pants are comfier and allow free movement. Make-up just takes up time in the morning. Flat sneakers are comfier than anything with heels. I wore quite an amount of pink, not by explicit choice, but because they were convenient hand-me-downs. Wearing a pink sweater was more convenient than having to go shopping. Once I got older, I cut my hair short. Also for convenience, of course. (Spoiler: That one wasn't for convenience.) So I didn't really have an opportunity for an "aha" moment when expressing masculinity for the first time. It was just always kinda happening. And it wasn't particularly special. It wasn't like presenting more feminine bothered me, either. No "aha" moments from that side.
I think it's a little more difficult for transmascs to experience and especially identify gender dysphoria. Because growing up female, you're taught over and over that what makes you female is awful, inconvenient, and shameful. Boobs are heavy, painfully sensitive, they get in the way, and give you back problems. Wearing a bra hurts. Not wearing a bra hurts. Bras are expensive, too, but don't you dare show them in public. They're only acceptable in public when they're on poster advertisement models, looking seductively for some reason. When it comes to boobs, no one actually likes having them, but a lot of people enjoy looking at them. There's thousands of jokes about dicks or dick related masturbation. Middle schoolers draw dicks everywhere. It's the height of comedy. You ever see a vulva drawn somewhere? Know a joke or even a euphemism for masturbation involving a vulva/vagina? No, that's taboo. Periods are awful. There are so, so many things I could say here about menstruation, social stigma, pain, and so on. I'm not going to. You've heard it all before, countless times. Of course you hate your period. No one likes their period. There's another whole section I could write about women's role in society as caregivers, about emotional labor, everyday sexism, but you've heard all that as well and the post is long enough already.
Of course you hate being a woman. Being a woman is miserable.
And within this atmosphere, within this external and internalized misogyny, within this misery, how do you differentiate? How do you tell apart dysphoria and the pain of womanhood you've been told is normal? A lot of terfs use this a talking point. They like to claim that trans men are just women who couldn't cope with the misery of the patriarchy. This post isn't about debunking that, but I'd like to briefly go on record and say that they're full of shit. Trans Men are Men. Trans Women are Women.
As someone who hasn't experienced a lot of gender dysphoria or euphoria, this does leave me with the occasional wave of doubt. Are these really trans feelings? Do I just hate being a woman, the way every woman does?
Then I remember that gender is an entirely fake concept and I can do whatever the fuck I want.
#i think this is something we need to talk about more#transmascs reading this i love you and youre valid#terfs if you even look at this post i will stomp you to death with my hooves#crimes against the gender convention#long post#trans#transgender#personal#genderqueer#lgbtq#nonbinary#queer#nb#enby#transmasc#trans positivity#trans experience#trans men#trans masc#transmasculine#gender roles#misogyny#feminism#internalized misogyny#female socialization#afab
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm very very slowly making my way through Secret Sleepover Society's Silent Hill 2 Remake playthrough video and it Bothers Me So Much that neither Jacob nor Julia were able to state plainly that there are allusions to sexual violence. Not because I expect people who are silly online to be 100% comfortable saying those words on a dime, but because the vagueness of their euphemisms, the fact that they both just kept repeating "sensitive content", and the idea that a single broad warning is enough to prepare viewers for anything, all combine to piss me off.
I do not expect people playing a horror game to give detailed spoilers about every single horror element. But there is a world of difference between "there's themes of sexual abuse" and "he's a big guy with a big sword".
maybe I'm the fucked up one for wanting specifics?? idk. I'm not hugely affected by depictions of sexual violence beyond "someone is being hurt and that upsets me viscerally", but I feel like if you're gonna be specific about bugs, vomit, and gore, you can be specific about how Pyramidhead is introduced in a scene that looks sort of like his dick's getting sucked.
0 notes
Text
this chapter kept me sustained over a weird week for me, and now i can finally splurge all my thoughts !! i've loved the build up of this relationship, the giddy infatuation and the harmless (for now) cat-and-mousing, but it's so nice to see the begining of the result lol đ
âHeâs gonna fix my sewing machine.â You said with a laugh. ... âWhat does that mean?â Veronica gave you an exaggerated scandalized look.
i love this so much lol the humour is so spot on !! veronica is such a real one. also i am for sure adopting this into my lexicon as my number one sex euphemism.
âCorey,â Veronica purred. The two of you burst into giggles like you used to in the back of class in high school.Â
i love this too !! as much as i love and want to read angst and being tragically, maddeningly in love, i also want the silly, giggly feeling of having a crush. having a crush should make you happy !! i've said it before but i do think there's something very youthful about corey, and that permeates through the crush for me. idk where i was going with that tbh, but having a silly, exciting crush is so interesting, especially compared with the next point --
he looks at you with something cold and hard in his face, and you remember the fear you felt in the library the first time you made eye contact
yes !! the fact that as genuinely sweet as corey is, he's dangerous too, and that isn't something that should be underestimated. it's that leaky tap personality of his, even the darkness tends to leak out when he doesn't mean it to.
Corey has a screwdriver kit you didnât notice him bring in... He has one of your reference books open to a diagram youâd tried several times to understand. He shows no signs of confusion.
i love seeing corey do what he does best. above all, he is intelligent. he had so much potential that i think he's only just realising again. he's getting into the swing of utilising his skills and developing a hobby that has no pressure. education was a means to an end, now he can do what he finds interesting and it really is just for fun (and some extra cash money).
âOh my god, cooking on the first date? You slut!â That makes you smile. It is slutty, in its own way, doing something for him that other people might reserve for later in the relationship. Performing an intimate and domestic act for a stranger.
this has been living in my head rent free since i read it !! you're so right !! the intimacy of domestic acts is severely under-rated. and it really is something special, coming from a place of love and care that is inherently tender. corey needs to be treated tenderly, having spent so much time bouncing between sharp edges and harsh realities.
cook some pasta, sluttily, basically.
When the guys at work ask questions about his life, he gives half answers if they're persistent. If they seem like they would let it go, he just grunts.
obsessed with this corey who's surly and grumpy and tight-lipped. who tries so hard not to give a single thing away, even when it's written all over his face that there's something in his past that made him this way.
He canât imagine not wanting to go to college... Doing things, not because you want to, but to avoid the consequences if you donât.
college, man. corey has adapted his whole life to try and be palatable, to try and be what people want him to be, even while being told that no one will ever want him anyway.
To put on a front and pretend to be normal. To get to know a pretty girl. He lies to himself every day that it doesnât hurt. That he likes being alone.
again, he's tried so hard, all his life and it didn't help him in the end. he's lonely and it feels like it's never going to end. but this is his rebirth, isn't it? and he's never been able to resist the longing and yearning even when he thinks he doesn't deserve the end result.
again he feels aroused at the idea that youâre a hunter too
ahhh !! this line !! he's such a little weirdo and i love him so much. he's always wanted to be wanted, and he's been through a lot lately so i can absolutely see him being unreasonably excited by the idea of hunter/hunted, and is happy to switch roles.
You reach into the basin and, without really thinking about it, you pick his fork up off his plate and put it into your mouth. You stand there for a second before you catch yourself.
i'm so obsessed with the way you are shaping this infatuation !! harmlessly weird things that you'd be embarrassed to ever repeat to someone, but that just fulfils the need to be close.
The two of you crawl around in the dark as he replaces each stickered outlet, you holding a flashlight steady for him. It feels strangely intimate, and you both speak in whispers, leaning in to be heard.
another absolutely perfect scene of domestic bliss. it feels like a weird game of murder in the dark, a very childish but intimate experience of both playing and trusting someone else.
Heâs smart. He seems scared to make jokes, like he doesnât think heâs funny, but thereâs a dark edged humor to him
literally, this is the reason i love corey so much. him not getting allyson's joke about the bike is the moment i knew i was done for, and this plays on that so well. i want him to get some confidence in himself so badly !!
Youâve noticed the scars on his hand and his throat... the sense that heâs been through something awful [...] Youâve been emotionally unavailable for what feels like forever.
okay, okay, okay, wait -- the idea of what people must think of seeing the scars is so interesting to me. they must be gnarly enough for people to know it must have been traumatic. whichever way reader's thoughts go, if he did it to himself or it was done to him, they're kind of right? he did it to himself but his hand was forced, wasn't it? except it wasn't, it was his choice and it is just another decision in his life that got him in a worse place than where he started.
wow, anyway -- i think corey would get self concious about it. he's never liked being perceived in the superficial way he is in public, and now he has this scar that will just make people analyse him and formulate theories.
and being emotionally unavailble? man, you went for the jugular on reader realism. i love this aspect though, knowing what we know of corey, but still knowing we want to open up for him because he'd understand. oof.
It still hurts, wrenching the air from his lungs. And it still feels like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long day.
this description is everything !! corey feels everything so deeply, all the time, and i love the intensity of this description. the similar feeling of loosing breath but it being violent and then soft.
sidenote, what is it about corey in baths that fascinates me? something, something, vulnerable and safe at the same time.
Youâve already gotten more time with him than she ever will.
i love the way you write his (to his knowledge) posthumous connection with allyson. the guilt and regret, but also the fact that he still won't let her go. he thinks he's what killed her and he still needs her, will still call on her to help him, or let her have a presence in his life. and the way he compares his time with reader, as though he doesn't keep allyson with him anyway.
ahhh this chapter is brilliant !! corey and reader's relationship is so endearing, there is the childish excitement of a fresh crush, but still with an undercurrent of strangeness đ
Clean Again
Chapter 5: THE LONG LIST read on AO3 | previous chapter | tumblr chapter index make sure to check AO3 for this fic's playlist and other extras!
Corey comes to fix Reader's sewing machine.
general warnings for this fic - angst, fluff, eventual smut (MDNI), canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore contents/warnings for this chapter - alcohol consumption, stalking
4,237 words
@rebel-blue @heartrot666 @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @toxicanonymity @multifandom--mess @hersweetrevenge @futurewife @yllcm @ethanhoewke dm me or reply to this post to be added to the listđ
You stand in the living room, slowly rotating in a circle. Evaluating. Your eye lands on a candle and you lunge forward to light it. Then you step back and think. Too romantic. You blow it out. Another thought occurs to you and you run to the bathroom. You tear down the hand towel on the bar over the counter and stuff a new one into it. You tidy the bunched up fabric, but not too much. The kitchen! You sprint to the sink and dump out the mesh trap you keep in the drain. You dash back to the bathroom and apply a spritz of perfume down the inside of your shirt.
Coreyâs coming over tonight.
Yesterday Veronica asked you to meet up for coffee before work. You arrived at the cafe across from the record store and found her at a little table on the patio. Before you could even pull a chair out to sit down, she was demanding information. All you had texted her on Monday night was a message mimicking hers.
âOh my god, spill!â She exclaimed excitedly.Â
âHeâs gonna fix my sewing machine.â You said with a laugh.
âWhat does that mean?â Veronica gave you an exaggerated scandalized look.
âMy literal sewing machine. Itâs been jammed for weeks. I canât figure it out. But heâs a mechanic or something? Iâm not really sure, but he knows machine things and heâs coming over tomorrow to fix it.â
âThatâs your first date?â She said, amused.
âWell, Iâm also gonna make him dinner.â
âOh my god, cooking on the first date? You slut!â Veronica slapped your hand playfully and you both laughed. âWhat are you making him?â
âI donât know yet! He said anything is fine except spaghetti. I wanna pick something kinda simple cause I know Iâm gonna be super nervous. I gotta look at what I have in the house.â
âSo how did the conversation go? How did you wind up asking him to fix your sewing machine?â
âThe first time I saw him was in the like, technical hobby aisle. I was getting books about sewing machine maintenance because I thought I could figure it out on my own. I haven't gotten anywhere 'cause I keep getting scared I'm just gonna irreparably fuck the machine if I do it on my own. I saw him on that aisle again and I just said âDo you know anything about sewing machines?ââ She didn't need to know you'd chased after him, even if you kind of felt like he'd wanted you to. You know she would not approve.
âYour opening line was âDo you know anything about sewing machines?ââ She asked, incredulous. You nodded your head. âI cannot believe that worked.â
âMe neither,â you admitted.
âHeâs a mechanic or something? Thatâs sexy.â
âYeah,â you squeaked, covering your face.
âMr. Library, the sexy mechanic. Youâll have to let me know how it goes.â
âOf course!â You reassured her. âActually, I was planning to text you like, right before he gets there and after he leaves, like, for safety.â
âYou fucking better, or I will come over there, guns blazing,â Veronica said. âWhatâs his name?â
âCorey.â
âCorey,â Veronica purred. The two of you burst into giggles like you used to in the back of class in high school.Â
You stand in front of the mirror on your dresser now, putting earrings in and taking them out. You want to look put together, like you tried, like you care. You also donât want to go overboard. Heâs just going to be fixing your sewing machine. But itâs more than just fixing your sewing machine. You havenât been on any dates since you broke things off with Hurley. Youâre already so infatuated with Corey it scares you. You just want things to go well. Youâre not sure you can handle it if they donât.Â
You go back out into the rest of the apartment, making sure itâs clean in the right way. Tidy without being sterile or stuffy. You pull the blanket down off the back of the couch, then toss it back up, so it doesnât look so manicured. You flip through your records, looking for something to play, or at least to put on your little easel so it looked like you had been listening to it. You donât know what kind of music he likes, so it seems fruitless.Â
It doesnât matter now anyway. You can hear someone walking up the gravel path. Heâs here. You text Veronica, hitting send just as thereâs a knock on the door.
You open the door and youâre instantly taken aback by his beauty, the same way you were the first time you saw him. He looks great. Heâs dressed in the simple way it seems like he always is, but it suits him so well, and youâve never seen him in a sweater before. The way it hangs off his broad, round shoulders entices you to wonder about his body, so you look up at his face instead. His eyes, surrounded by halos of lashes, his pillowy lips. You feel your chest flushing.
âCome in, make yourself at home. You can take your shoes off if you want, or whatever youâre comfortable with,â you say, stepping behind the door to let him in.
âOh, thanks,â he says. His work boots clatter to the wooden floor. You close the door awkwardly behind him.
Your phone goes off extremely loudly. Both of you jump. You had the volume turned up so you could hear if he called or texted while you were preparing for him to come over, but now the sound is deafening.
âSorry, itâs just my friend checking in. Sheâs nervous about you coming over, 'cause you could be a serial killer or something.â You try to make a face that indicates itâs a joke, but for a split second he looks at you with something cold and hard in his face, and you remember the fear you felt in the library the first time you made eye contact. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck, but his face is already soft again and you manage a smile.Â
âSewing machineâs in here,â you say as you lead him to the dining room. "I donât know if you need them but the books I got from the library are right next to it. Can I get you something to drink? I have water, tea, beerâŠ?â Corey just shakes his head and sits down in front of the machine. âOkay, let me know if you need anything. I gotta put the water on for dinner.â
You scamper into the kitchen. You pull out all the pots and pans youâll need, using the water running into the pot for the pasta to cover the deep breaths youâre taking to try to steady yourself. He said no spaghetti, but that other pasta was fine. But is it fine? Should you make something else? You double check that your phone is on vibrate before sending Veronica another text.
Then you go back into the dining room.  Â
Corey has a screwdriver kit you didnât notice him bring in, all different shapes and sizes including ones you've never seen before. Heâs already got the machine split down the middle, a neat little pile of screws in the lid of his tool set. You watch him silently for a second. He has one of your reference books open to a diagram youâd tried several times to understand. He shows no signs of confusion. He doesnât acknowledge that youâve come back into the room, so you clear your throat quietly.Â
âDo you want company or do you need to be alone to focus?âÂ
Corey waves you over. You grab a dining chair and place it closer to him before sitting down. He glances up at you briefly, then goes back to his work. You sit there with your hands clasped in your lap, watching him. At first you feel super awkward. You still kind of canât believe this is happening. That you saw him more than once, that asking him to fix your sewing machine worked, that heâs here, in your dining room. But as you watch his skillful hands remove piece after piece, working with quiet determination, you settle down. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. When you hear the water start to boil, you resent having to go back in the kitchen instead of getting to watch him longer. Then you remember what Veronica said yesterday morning.
âOh my god, cooking on the first date? You slut!â That makes you smile. It is slutty, in its own way, doing something for him that other people might reserve for later in the relationship. Performing an intimate and domestic act for a stranger. Youâve never let a man know where you live without hanging out somewhere else first before, youâve never had a man in this apartment at all. Youâre breaking all your rules for him. It's scary, but the rules didn't protect you last time anyway. Might as well see what happens if you do things differently.Â
By the time you have a free moment away from the stove again, Corey is reassembling the machine. Thereâs a mound of dust and little fabric scraps on the table.
âIs this what was wrong with it?â You indicate the dust bunny, embarrassed.
âYep,â Corey says simply.
âDamn, I thought I kept it pretty clean,â you say, trying to defend yourself even though Corey doesnât seem to be judging.Â
âItâs the machineâs fault. You canât clean where I pulled this from without opening the whole thing up. Bad design.â He shrugs.
âOh. Thanks for fixing it.â You sweep the dust bunny into your hand and drop it into the trash can. âDinnerâs almost ready.â
âIt smells good,â he says quietly.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Riding here, the road rumbling under him, Corey tried to prepare himself for your questions. He knew you would want to try to get to know him. When the guys at work ask questions about his life, he gives half answers if they're persistent. If they seem like they would let it go, he just grunts. No one can find plot holes in the revised version of his life if he never shares it with anyone. But he knew that wouldnât work with you. And if he was going to do this, whatever this was, he had to let you in, at least a little.
He was grateful you seemed happy to watch him work on the sewing machine in relative silence. Being able to do something with his hands helped him calm down. But now that diner is on the table, itâs time to talk, and his anxiety creeps up on him. He tries to push it down with the beer you brought him. Your cooking is surprisingly delicious. He regrets being too uncomfortable to really enjoy it. Hopefully next time, he catches himself thinking. If there is a next time.
âSo youâre a car mechanic? Or are you like, an appliance mechanic? It wasnât clear the other day.âÂ
âBoth,â he takes the beer bottle from his lips to say. âI work at a garage, and I repair old electronics and appliances to sell just for myself. You mend clothes?â
âOh thatâs my little side business. I also work at Plymouth Records, downtown. The mechanic thing is so cool. How did you get into that?â
Itâs gonna be a long night, Corey thinks, wanting to do this to be close to you, but already feeling the wear of talking this much for the first time in so long.Â
âI was gonna go to college for engineering, butâŠâ he trails off, scared to give you more information than that.Â
âBut college.â You finish the sentence, making a face. âI dropped out too.â
âWhat were you studying before you dropped out?â He asks. He feels so relieved to hear you didnât finish college either. He hopes the circumstances of your departure were much less traumatic than his, but it feels good to have a thing like that in common. Itâs been so long since he felt like he had anything in common with anyone.Â
You laugh ruefully and it surprises him to hear the edge in your voice. âI had so many majors. I wasnât in college because I had something I wanted to study. I was in college because itâs where I was âsupposed toâ be.â
Corey wants to say something meaningful to that. He canât imagine not wanting to go to college. Heâd hung all his hopes on it before the thing with Jeremy. It was his ticket out. But he understands suffocating under other peopleâs expectations. Doing things, not because you want to, but to avoid the consequences if you donât. Heâs done that his whole life, with the exception of one glorious and horrific week. He couldnât possibly get into it, so he settles from solemn nod.
âWhere are you from?â You ask.
âIllinois,â Corey says, then immediately regrets it. He doesnât want to lie, but he could be less specific.Â
âOh yeah? I could tell you werenât no southern boy,â you say, exaggerating your subtle accent. âWhere at in Illinois?â
âNot a town youâve heard of.â He hopes against hope that thatâs the truth. His manslaughter trial didnât make huge waves, but it had definitely made the rounds on social media nationally, and there was the podcast that nurse had mentioned. Michael Myersâ massacres, and his own, were probably much bigger headlines. Front page maybe even. He had killed nine people that week. He had no way to even estimate how many Michael had done beyond the two heâd been there for. That had to make the front page nationally. Or trend on Twitter, or something. But he couldnât be sure. Heâd avoided the news studiously since he left.
âWhat brought you here?âÂ
That, Corey can answer truthfully. Vaguely, but truthfully. âIt was hell living there. I couldnât wait to get out,â he says. âWhat about you?â
âIâm from here,â you say. âI was gone for a few years, but I wound up crawling back.â
The conversation lulls. Corey is thankful that you allow it to. Mixed feelings roil inside him. He shouldnât be here. He shouldnât have accepted dinner if he was going to help you, and he shouldnât have helped you. His cover will be blown, heâll go to prison. Heâll be sentenced to death, but he wonât ever die. Heâll just wither immortally in a cell, watching all the other killers be walked to their waiting KFC.
And yet, itâs so nice to talk to someone. To put on a front and pretend to be normal. To get to know a pretty girl. He lies to himself every day that it doesnât hurt. That he likes being alone. That even with his mother breathing down his neck his whole childhood, he was always really alone, and his complete isolation is just the logical conclusion of things. The way he was born to live.Â
Of course none of that is true. He remembers the way he felt about the Allens before the accident with Jeremy. How heâd hoped someday he could experience a love like the one they had, before he destroyed it.
Then thereâs you. Rubbing your finger around the rim of your glass in mock-absentmindedness. Pretending not to look at him, but studying him intently. You texted your friend just in case the man you invited into your home was a murderer. He is. But youâre safe with him, at least right now. He thinks about the way you caught him in the library. And again he feels aroused at the idea that youâre a hunter too. He wonders if you could survive an encounter with Michael, if you have the fight in you like Laurie did. He finishes his beer.
âYouâre a good cook,â he says, breaking the silence.Â
You give him The Smile . âThank you! I was worried it was too similar to spaghetti.â
âI might actually eat your spaghetti.â
âYou should be so lucky,â you reply, laughing. Youâre flirting. Heâs flirting, and youâre flirting back. He almost canât believe it.Â
The rest of the evening is easier for Corey. He relaxes just a little. When itâs time for him to go, you walk outside with him. You stand out there in your sock feet with no jacket even though itâs a chilly night. Your eyes light up when you see his motorcycle.
âIs this what you drive all the time?â You ask.
âYeah. Do you like motorcycles?â
âUh, I think so? Iâve never ridden one.â You step closer to it.Â
Corey almost offers to give you a ride, but he hesitates, thinking of Allyson. The only other person heâd ever ridden with. Will giving you a ride lock you into her fate?Â
âI might be scared to ride it, honestly. As lame as that is,â you say, letting him off the hook.Â
âItâs not lame. My dad died in a motorcycle accident when I was little,â Corey says, surprising himself by sharing so easily.Â
âAnd you still ride this thing everywhere?â You raise your eyebrows in exaggerated disbelief.Â
âI donât have the best sense of self-preservation,â he confesses.Â
A smirk curls your lips. Corey can see you realizing the shy, reserved boy youâd spent the evening with might have an edge to him. You have no idea how sharp that edge is.
âLet me know if thereâs anything else you need fixed,â he says, straddling the bike and putting his helmet on.Â
âDo you want the long list or the short list?â You say sarcastically.
âThe long list. Text it to me.â Coreyâs bike roars to life. You laugh and shake your head. âIâm serious!â He shouts over the rumble of the engine.Â
You reach out and put your hand on the top of his helmet. Then you walk back to your door, turning around to wave at him before you go inside. He waves back, and watches you disappear into your apartment. When he can't see you anymore he rides away.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
As you close the door, you let out a little excited sound. You canât help but squeal. Things went so well! You send the all clear text to Veronica as you make your way to the kitchen, not even annoyed that you have to clean up. Corey had been so nice, scraping both plates and putting them in the sink. Youâre touched by the small gesture of respect. You reach into the basin and, without really thinking about it, you pick his fork up off his plate and put it into your mouth. You stand there for a second before you catch yourself. You pull the fork from your mouth and laugh out loud at yourself as you load the dishwasher.
After thatâs done you bring a glass of water into the bedroom and set it and your phone on your nightstand. You want to text Corey and tell him thank you for such a lovely evening, but you donât want to come across as clingy. You tell yourself youâll decide after you do your nighttime routine. The water barely spurts out of the faucet in your bathroom. You struggle to get your toothbrush clean under the unimpressive flow, and it takes forever for your cupped hands to fill with water to splash on your face.Â
When you come back into the bedroom, skin moisturized and hair braided, the decision of how soon to text Corey has been made for you.
A little heart appears over your last message. His transparent attempt to have reasons to come back over charms you. As if you wouldnât just invite him because you like him. You smile as you tuck yourself into bed.
Your bedroom door is crooked and sticks closed, so Corey takes it down and glues a bunch of toothpicks into the screw holes, then when the glue is dry, he saws them flush before he hangs the door back up.
Some of your outlets are loose, the weight of the cord pulls the plug halfway out as soon as you let go. The two of you check every outlet in the whole apartment, plugging things in and watching them slip back out, putting stickers on the ones that suck. Next time he comes over he flips all the switches in your breaker box. The two of you crawl around in the dark as he replaces each stickered outlet, you holding a flashlight steady for him. It feels strangely intimate, and you both speak in whispers, leaning in to be heard.
The light bulb in your closet is burnt out and your high ceilings keep it out of reach, even on the step stool you keep around. Corey stacks your dining chairs under the bare bulb and climbs the precarious pile.
âBe careful,â you warn him from outside the closet. He scoffs and holds his hand out for the new light bulb.Â
âThereâs a spider in here,â he says when the light comes on.Â
âCool,â you say. âIs it poisonous?â
âUm⊠Iâm not a spider expert. Itâs just a regular spider, I think.â
âJust leave it,â you instruct.Â
 âYou donât want me to kill it?â His muffled voice sounds surprised.
âItâs not hurting anything. If thatâs where it wants to be, Iâm not gonna stop it.â He gives you a confused look when he jumps down from the chair stack. âAre you judging me?â You ask.
âNever. Iâm just⊠impressed.â
âI have a soft spot for maligned creatures,â you explain.Â
When youâre not with Corey, heâs always on your mind. Youâve started hearing motorcycles everywhere. Whenever you hear one rumbling along, you think of him, and say a quick prayer to no one for the riderâs safety.Â
Heâs smart. He seems scared to make jokes, like he doesnât think heâs funny, but thereâs a dark edged humor to him that surprises you pleasantly every time. When you talk it feels like he really listens, like heâs taking notes.Â
Something very bad happened to him. Youâve noticed the scars on his hand and his throat, but the sense that heâs been through something awful comes equally from how extremely guarded he always seems. His reservation is the very thing that reduces yours. Youâve been emotionally unavailable for what feels like forever. You think of all the times you ended things after one or two stiff little dates. Coreyâs hesitance makes him feel like someone safe.Â
And heâs just so goddamn pretty. Sometimes you have to look away because it feels like gazing at the sun.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Itâs not a complete coincidence that youâve started hearing motorcycles more often, not only an illusion of increased frequency.Â
Corey hadnât let himself follow you home from the library the other day, but finding the same strength now isnât always easy. In the evenings after work, on his days off, whenever heâs not busy and heâs not with you, he wonders where you are and what youâre doing. He makes himself work on a project, scrub a circuit board with rubbing alcohol and a q-tip. But inevitably he gets antsy.
His bike carves across town. He passes your apartment, he cuts through the parking lot behind the record store, he lurks across the street from your favorite mom and pop grocery. Heâs been going to the library more than ever before. Your habit of texting while walking irritates him, but he always softens a little when he feels his phone vibrate. He makes sure you get home safe on nights you stumble out of a dive bar and into a taxi with Veronica and Rose. A time or two heâs left you a little present, dropping a flower from a nearby tree onto your passenger seat through your barely open window. When he sees a meter maid writing you a ticket he runs over and stops her, putting all the coins in his pocket into the machine to buy you more time.Â
When heâs with you heâs still nervous, putting a lot of effort into every conversation, always desperate for you to give him The Smile . It still hurts, wrenching the air from his lungs. And it still feels like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long day. He feels a foreign sensation in your presence: joy.Â
The guilt however, is familiar and well worn. The thoughts about Allyson, that he had failed to keep her safe, that he had walked away after promising he wouldnât. It just gets a shiny new coat of paint. He should stay away from you. What if he implicates you, contaminates you. Is he putting you in legal danger by getting close to you? Or physical danger? And is he disrespecting Allysonâs memory? Youâve already gotten more time with him than she ever will. Is that good or bad? How can he keep you from ending up like her?
#corey cunningham#my beloved#ahhh the way this is all that is keepin me going lol#thank you for writing. and for your dedication !! đ#bonus highlights:#mr library. the sexy mechanic#not knowing what music corey likes. dw he also doesnt really know properly yet lol#how neat his is when taking the sewing machine apart. the screws in the lid of the tool box#corey on death row and the kfc dinner#how perfect he thinks the allens were#the mention of wally !! i feel like corey would definitely be doing some thinking about a lot of things he hasnt been able to#corey acts of service handy man realness#(also made me think of sam and kate in holes (2003) in a good way)#the spider !! we love a call back#and the little ref to front page news ?? perhaps ??#corey: clean again
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
DIY Chinese penis euphemisms ft. Jingsu
Letâs make some penises in Chinese.
Because there are relatively few characters in Chinese (around 20k in a modern dictionary) compared to the number of words in other languages (100k+ in English), most characters carry many meanings. This leads to ambiguities if writing were to be fully composed from single-character words, which is why most words in modern Chinese are compounded from two or more characters, and the meaning is synthesized from the individual meanings. Here are some penis-relevant suffixes, in no particular order:
-ç© thing
-ćš organ/instrument
-æ č root
-è stalk
-æŁ stick
-æ± pillar
-ć
· implement
-ć blade (ouch)
Youâll notice that these are all, well, things. This is one typical pattern for making a Chinese compound word: the second character describes the physicality in some way while the first describes an attribute (characters are flexible and can be either prefix or suffix depending on context). Here are some penis-relevant prefixes:
ć·š- huge (the opposite would be ćŸź for tiny, but itâs hard to find micropenises in erotica)
祏- hard
éŽ- yin
éł- yang
æ§- sex
éŁ- that
ç- jade
è- meat
ć¶- violent
ç·- male
Now we can create our own penis euphemism by mashing any two together. Here are some real quotes from explicit Jingsu fanfic (translations are kept literal here, but I almost always translate every euphemism to cock because itâs the English term I hate the least):
éłć
· = yang implement
è§æŻç°çéłć
·ć€§ćŸæäșșïŒæŻäžèŹçäčŸéłèżèŠć€§äžć ćïŒä»æŸçŹèŻŽèżæŻç柶ćšäž„ïŒèą«æą
éżèçœäșäžçŒ [x]
Xiao Jingyanâs yang implement was frighteningly large, even significantly larger than the average Alphaâs. He once joked that this was the might of the imperial bloodline, getting an eye roll from Mei Changsu.
ć¶ć = violent blade
ćȘæŻçć°äžäžäžȘæž
éççŹéŽïŒè§æŻç°ć·Čç»ć°ä»çćè
żććŒăć°éŁçČ祏æ»ç«çć¶ćæ”äžæżĄæčżçç©ŽćŁăăèžéȘ毻æą
ă
But the next instant he came to, Xiao Jingyan had already parted his legs. Pressed that thick, hard, and searing violent blade against his wet opening.
æ§ćš = sex organ
è§æŻç°çććŁć·Čç»ćźć
šćŒäșïŒé怎䞀æ čæ§ćšæąäșćșæ„ïŒæćšææźć€§è
żć€äŸ§ ăćæ¶æă
Xiao Jingyanâs sac had fully opened, two sex organs emerging from inside and hitting against the outside of Lin Shuâs thigh.
èæŁ = meat stick
ä»äžćźäžç„éèȘć·±èą«é»ćžèäœćçŒïŒä»°ç怎èŽčćććç·äșșèæŁçæšĄæ ·æć€âŠâŠèŻ±æ [x]
He must not know how...seductive he looks, black cloth covering both eyes, tilting his head to strenuously swallow a manâs meat stick.
éŁç© = that thing
è§æŻç°äčäžć磚èčïŒéææèżćșèŸčçæ¶æŻć«ć±ïŒćšèȘć·±çéŁç©äžæ¶äșć äžäŸżæ”ćšäșéżè玧éçç©ŽćŁ [x]
Xiao Jingyan didnât waste any more time either, grabbing the disinfectant gel conveniently by the bedside, applying it a few times on that thing of his then pressing it against Changsuâs tight opening.
The anatomical term for the penis is éŽè = yin stalk, the word that is the closest equivalent of penis. But why is the penis both a yin stalk and yang implement? Glad you asked. Yang is associated with the male and yin with the female, but the very concept of yin-yang is that thereâs yin in yang and yang in yin (think of the symbol itself). The penis is a yin part because the privates are the most yin on the body. So you can think of it as either the thing of a yang being, or the yin thing on a yang beingâthe wonderful duality of the male member.
As you might expect, not all of the possible combinations are actually in use. Like, éŽæŁ = yin stick isnât a thing. Why not? I donât know, it just isnât. If you used it in context, readers would understand you mean penis and probably puzzle a bit over why you didnât use the more common names.
Some of the combinations also mean other things. ć¶ćš = violent instrument actually means murder weapon in ordinary use. Can it be a penis euphemism during rough sex? Yes, but most of the time it means the real weapon. éŁæ č = that root is tricky because æ č is a classifier word (a similar concept to measure words in English) for long stick-like objects in addition to its meaning of root, so éŁæ č is almost always used in conjunction with other words, like that phallic [thing], as opposed to a penis on its own, which would probably be confusing to read. But when the character preceding æ č is something else, like ç·- male, then itâs not being used in the classifier context, and ç·æ č = male root is indeed a penis.
Now that weâve gotten the explanations out of the way, I searched through the corpus of Chinese Jingsu fics on my computer (around 1000+ fics) to look for all possible combinations of the prefixes and suffixes listed above, tossing out the compound words that donât mean penis in context, to see what the most popular penises are. Behold the Jingsu compound penis matrix:
Congratulations to our winner, sex organ, and the distant runner-up, that thing. In contrast, the anatomical yin stalk is not very popular, kind of like how penis is not used as frequently as other terms in English erotica.
Okay, so now you have the power to create all kinds of penises. But whatâs the correct penis to use in a particular situation? Jingsu smut is, of course, mostly ancient erotica (unless itâs a modern AU), so the tendency is to go for the more literary and euphemistic, and the way to do that is to be less physically descriptive. That thing is definitely more suited for delicate company than meat stick (though some authors happily use meat stick in their ancient settings anyways), and jade/yin/yang penises are also more literary. çè = jade stalk is, in fact, the traditional Chinese medicine term for the penis and also a literary term, in use for well over a thousand years.
è§æŻç°ćäșçșąćžć°æą
éżèççèææè”·æ„ïŒèą«çœè€èĄŹè”·æ„èçŒćŸćŸăăæą
çŹă
Xiao Jingyan tied up Mei Changsuâs jade stalk with red silk, looking quite eye-catching against white skin.
Some more penises
It would be way oversimplifying things to say weâre done now when there are many more methods to form words and penises in Chinese besides our simple algorithm. Letâs first discuss some concepts with English analogs:
A lot of ancient cultures associated chickens with the male member, and we have cock in English. In Chinese, children call penises ć°éžĄéžĄ = little chicken, kind of the equivalent of weewee. You would definitely not use it in a sexy story.
In English you could say he pushed himself inside, and you could say that in Chinese too, with èȘć·± = self. A relatively euphemistic term.
Thereâs also little [personâs name], so ć°éżè = xiao-Changsu and ć°æŻç° = xiao-Jingyan exist. And yes, so does ć°ć°æź = xiao-xiao-Shu, Lin Shuâs penis. This might be my least favorite one. These are not generally euphemisms youâd see in more...well-regarded erotica.
Okay, now onto the more uniquely Chinese penises. We have some more euphemistic ones:
éŁèŻćż = those words, actually meaning that which we canât speak of, and penis. èŻćż on its own just means words and remarks in general, but once you add that in the beginning, it becomes a whole other thing (though it can still mean those words in non-erotic contexts). This is one of the euphemisms found in the infamous erotic Ming Dynasty novel éç¶æą
(JÄ«n PĂng MĂ©i), The Plum in the Golden Vase, so it has a storied history, though it isnât used much in Jingsu smut at all. äžæäčç© = uncivilized thing is also along these lines (äč here is a literary possessive particle). You can also put all kinds of adjectives before äčç© for a more customized penis.
Speaking of adjectives, one thing about Chinese very different from English is that parts of speech are fluid, especially in Classical Chinese where many characters are basically any part of speech. ç«ç is fire + hot, but it can be both an adjective, fiery hot, that you stick in front of a penis, or a noun, fiery heat, that acts as a penis itself. So ç«çäčç©, fiery hot thing, is a penis, and hereâs an example where just fiery heat is the penis:
ä»çšéĄżäș饿ïŒäŸżç»§ç»ćŸéæšèżïŒééąæž©æ玧èŽïŒè éćžéćšä»çç«çäžïŒć°±ć„œćä»ä»Źć€©çć°±æŻäžć„çïŒæ€ć»ç»äșé¶ć”ćźæŽäș ăć€ćźżć±±ćŻșă
He paused slightly, then continued pushing inward. The passage is warm and tight inside, clinging onto his fiery heat as if they were two pieces made for each other, finally tessellating together and becoming whole in this moment.Â
We also have words with standard definitions that mean something else in erotica:
ć°æ č = dust root, which is actually a term in Buddhism that means one of the human senses rooting you to the mortal realm, often referred to as the realm of ephemeral dust (ć°äž). This is a creative allusion, because what else is a penis but a root that traps you in carnal desire and prevents you from reaching nirvana? Of course, whether itâs appropriate for use depends on whether you want to bring up mortality and the illusion of desire when your characters are getting it on. ćœæ č = sinful root, or the more fun translation, root of evil, is also along these lines.
ćȘæŻèżäčäžæłïŒè§æŻç°ćæ čèżæČĄèą«è§Šçą°ć°çć°æ čć°±äžéą€äžéą€çç«äșè”·æ„ïŒçĄŹéŠéŠć°ć°ćèçäș”èŁ€æè”·äžçćžçŻ· [x]
At this mere thought, Xiao Jingyanâs utterly untouched dust root trembled upwards, forming a stiff tent in his thin underclothes.
ćœæ č = life root, meaning the source of vitality or reason for living, which is obviously the penis. This one does refer to penis in ordinary use as well, often humorously.
ä»çćœæ čćç»è§æŻç°ć«çïŒçšććźèŁčïŒć äčèŠæä»çéä»èș«äœéćžćșæ„äžæ ·ă[x]
His life root was held in Xiao Jingyanâs mouth and forcefully sucked, as if threatening to extract his soul from his body.
æŹČæ = desire. Very popular in erotica, not in the dictionary as a penis, and may confuse a first-time fic reader why an abstract concept is being shoved places.
è§æŻç°æĄäœæą
éżèçș€éżçćè
żïŒèź©ä»çŒ ćšèȘć·±è
°äžïŒæćż«èŠćżçäșçæŹČææ”ćšéŁć°ć°çć
„ćŁïŒæ
ąæ
ąć°æšäșèżć» [x]
Xiao Jingyan gripped Mei Changsuâs slender legs, letting him wrap around his own waist, and pressed his desire, nearly exploding with need, against that tiny opening, slowly pushing in.
ćèș« = split body, or where the body parts (and what you do with it to another body). Its usual meaning is to find time to do something else, and this meaning is only for erotica.
At this point, I should say that some of these may have been invented for erotica to get around censorship. The coined words often evolve to become part of the vocabulary of the in-group over time, such that even when thereâs no need to censor, people instinctively use the vocabulary to signal, whether subconsciously or consciously, that theyâre in the know.
Of course, just because a euphemism is popular, or of proper ancient lineage, doesnât mean it will be subjectively to your taste. Jade stalk burns my eyes despite being a classic literary term, which probably says more about my Chinese than anything else; someone whoâs really internalized this term and isnât still on the literal level of understanding probably doesnât mind it at all. Honestly, my original intention was to giggle a bit at all the euphemisms, but now that Iâve stared at them for a while, they all seem...okay to me (except xiao-xiao-Shu, that one can die). Not sure whether thatâs a good thing or not.
A bonus last one very relevant to Jingsu, éŸæ č = dragon root, just for His Majestyâs penis.
è§æŻç°çéŸæ čèżććšèȘć·±äœć
ïŒäžäœæčżæ»çČè
»ïŒäžççŒèïŒèžćç䞀çčćèą«èæç©ćŒïŒæą
éżèçæłć°±èżäčæèżć»çźäșă[x]
Xiao Jingyanâs dragon root was still buried inside him, his lower body slick and wet, a completely sorry mess, and the two nubs on his chest were being wantonly toyed with againâMei Changsu really wished he could just pass out on the spot and be done with it.
Hereâs a penis alignment chart that is almost, but not quite, entirely unlike a summary of our findings:
What if I donât want to make penises?
As youâve seen so far, Chinese is very good for euphemisms, and you can write the dirtiest smut without mentioning any parts once.
My favorite Jingsu sex euphemism is easily æą
ćŒäșćșŠ, literally plum blossoms bloom for the second time, which is an idiom meaning reaching the pinnacle again. Itâs frequently used to describe a footballer scoring the second goal in a single match, someone finding new love after a failed relationship, or yes, orgasming for the second time in one night. But in the Jingsu context, it can also be literally read as...Mei Changsu âopensâ for the second time.
I would write another post on euphemisms for other body parts and sex in general (including the inexplicably many sex puns in NiF canon names), but this euphemism is clearly the pinnacle, and I will not reach it again.
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Could I request... a drabble of Nancy's children cutting her off and not letting her meet her grandchildren? Or even just a summary of events? đ
Dear Ask Amandla:
I have a problem with my two grown children that has been ongoing for a while, and I am at my wits' end. Years ago, I made some less-than-perfect decisions, supporting someone who was manipulative and overbearing towards a teenager in his care. I knew that some of what I witnessed was illegal, but allowed it to happen and said nothing.
The person in question was the same age as my younger daughter. I NEVER considered him in any way like her. There were extenuating circumstances! I followed my loyalty to someone who turned out not to deserve it. But when my children found out, years later, they were furious. Not just that I had allowed the mistreatment of someone to happen in my employer's household, but that I had never told them about it. Frankly, my work and home life have always been kept separate. I was an assistant to a powerful man and had little recourse myself.
I have never been charged with a crime, and provided the authorities with anything they asked for when the investigation was underway. But when my children told me I should apologize to the now-grown young man my employer mistreated, I will admit I balked. I certainly never hurt him myself, after all, and don't feel an apology would help either him or me.
He was never significantly harmed during my employment with the powerful man, and it's not like I could pay medical bills or do anything else.
My children were upset with me for refusing to apologize for my part in all this, but I don't think that, eight years after the events occurred, my apology is asked for or even wanted.
My son answers my calls only sporadically, and my daughter - the one who is the same age as the young man who was mistreated - has stopped talking to me entirely. She was six months pregnant when I last heard her voice. It's been so long she must have had the baby by now, but my calls go unanswered and she doesn't respond to letters, emails, or anything else I've tried.
I made a mistake, but it was years ago and I was working hard to provide for my children. After the hard work and love I've shown them, I am absolutely floored that they would cut me off over someone they don't know and who they've never even met. What can I do to have my children in my lives again?
Yours,
BAFFLED IN BERRAS
-
Dear Baffled in Berras,
Baffled, I would love to answer you, but I can sense that there is a LOT you aren't telling me between the lines of what you are. In fact, you probably tried to hide more than you revealed.
It sounds like your children drew a firm line in the sand about what they need to feel comfortable with you. You can choose not to respect that, but if you do, they also are free to choose distance or even total disconnection from you.
If you ask me, the root of their unhappiness is probably your way of remembering things perhaps a bit rosier than they truly were. For instance, you continually call an adult individual's abuse of a teenage boy 'mistreatment'.
It was more than mistreatment, Baffled, wasn't it? And despite your phrasing, you were not helpless to report it. You had plenty of recourse. You chose not to help.
Your children are asking you to take full responsibility for your actions and what those actions enabled, and even just by your letter I think it's clear that you never have.
You can take responsibility and seek reconciliation, or you can choose not to. But your children are adults, and they can and will make their own choices, too.
Right now, it seems like they have chosen to step away. You need to respect that, too.
You can start by cutting out all the euphemisms and metaphors and by calling every single part of it what it is and not what you want it to have been.
You aided and abetted abuse of a minor. That's a crime. It's understandable that your daughter would be horrified to learn that you accepted and enabled that abuse while parenting she and her brother.
Good luck.
Ask Amandla
#whump#epistolary#miss nancy#chris the strawberry blond romantic#baldur#writing#gaslighting tw#denial tw#ugh this made me feel gross to type i hate her#ask amandla lowkey knows it's her too
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut (NSFW, 18+)
summary: youâre used to being in love with taehyung. youâve had a lot of time to get good at it, after allâby this point youâre the worldâs expert at keeping your less-than-platonic feelings hidden from him, what with the amount of practice youâve had.
but then he signs up for a massage therapy course, because apparently you can never catch a break.
or: the one where taehyung gives you a full body massage and then some.
warnings: sexually explicit content, massage with a happy ending (literally đ€§), cursing, edible massage oil/lube, fingering (f), unprotected sex (be safe when you have sex please), multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m), cum swallowing, pet names, body worship?, brief mention of shower sex
a/n: I swear this was meant to be pwp. this was literally meant to just be pwp with some massage shenanigans. and then I blinked and it had become a soft 13k fic which honestly⊠kicked my ass quite a bit. but I hope you enjoy it!! thank you as always to @hobi-gifâ for beta reading this and encouraging me and putting up with me changing this multiple times, what would I do without your support miss hope?
--
Taehyung goes through a lot of different phases.
He just finds so many things interesting. Photography, art, art history, music, fashion, thrift shopping; heck, there was even the time he got weirdly into making tea and became some sort of connoisseur, going through the whole rigmarole of buying the loose leaves and weighing them out, checking the temperature of the water, brewing for a precisely measured amount of time.
You still remember the look on his face when you said it all tasted like hot leaf water to you.
Because, of course, as one of Taehyungâs best friends and his roommate, youâre inevitably swept up in everything he does. Youâre used to the weirdly acrid smell of photo development fluid and how cold dark rooms can get. You use phrases like chiaroscuro and sfumato to describe the simplest things after listening to Taehyung do the same for so long. Youâve lost count of the amount of times youâve tripped over his saxophone case when he leaves it lying around the apartment. You regularly wear the baggy t-shirt with the face that Taehyung had painted on itâeven if you still refer to it as the Squidward-House-Shirt despite the fact you know he was inspired by Basquiet and Schiele and not the Easter Island themed stone head that Squidward lives in.
You donât mind getting dragged along with whatever he does, honestly; you donât have time to attend every class, but go with him when you can. Itâs always good to expand your horizons. You also love watching Taeâs face whenever he learns something new, the various expressions that flit across his featuresâfrom wide eyed excitement and eyebrow raising astonishment to the more solemn side that appears whenever heâs taking something in and thinking deeply about it, turning it over in his mind, mulling on it.
(You love watching Taeâs face all the time, actually, but thatâs a whole other can of worms youâd rather keep shut.)
However, the latest course heâs signed up for is not one youâd been expecting.
âMassage therapy?â Your face twists in equal parts confusion and surprise.
Taehyungâs dropped this latest nugget of information while youâre cooking, trying to fry some rice while also peering at the phone screen thatâs been thrust into your face. Youâre not bad at multitasking, per se, but Taehyungâs iPhone is drifting so close that youâre almost cross-eyed and itâs blocking you from seeing whatâs going on in the pan.Â
âI had a coupon,â he says, as if that explains everything. (It doesnât.)
âScooch,â you say, and he immediately moves so you can turn the gas off.
âJiminie and Jungkookie say that my massages help with dance, and that's just from Youtube tutorials.â Taehyung continues to talk as you bustle around the tiny kitchen. Heâs already set the table so now heâs free to watch you finish doing the rest of the work. âAnd Joon-hyung says I have the perfect hands for it.â
You fumble with the pan as youâre scooping the steaming rice into a large bowl, only just managing to save food from scattering everywhere. Youâve thought about Taehyungâs hands a lot, about how large and long fingered and beautiful they are, but he doesnât need to know that.
âReally? Huh. Thatâs nice.â You stare at the pan, fixated on getting every grain of rice so you can avoid looking at Taehyungâs face. And hands. Which are still cupped around his phone. Which looks so small in his big, pretty grip.
Jesus Christ.
âIt means I can give you massages if you ever start to get tense.â Taehyung sounds pleased, lovely grin on his face at the prospect of being able to rub his hands over you. As if that isnât going to make every single one of your muscles lock up and turn you into some sort of coiled rope of a human being, which is the complete opposite of what a massage is supposed to achieve.Â
âGreat.â Despite your inner turmoil, your voice is level and steady as you meticulously scrape the last grain of rice into the bowl, chasing the tiny fleck of white around the huge pan. Scrape, scrape, scrape. âSounds fabulous. Canât wait.â
Of course Taehyung would sign up to learn something that he could use to help his friends. Heâs so big-hearted and loving. Big-hearted and loving and kind and funny and affectionate and beautiful and deep-voiced and so entirely overwhelming in every single way imaginable.Â
You do what you always do when confronted yet again with your all-consuming crushâyou bottle that shit the fuck up until heâs not in the room.
And then you have a miniature breakdown at Pickles.
âI am going to die,â you whisper-scream. âHeâs going to offer to massage me and heâs going to get a bottle of massage oil out and heâs going drizzle it onto his massive hands and I am going to fucking die.â
The bearded dragon cocks his head as he stares at you. Taehyung had come home with the reptile one day, tank and all, saying that someone on Facebook had been giving him away because they were moving house and could they just look after him for a little while, please, pretty please? Until they found a good home for him? Please?
That was over a year ago. (Youâve always been bad at saying no to Taehyung.)
âI hate my life,â you lament to the lizard, but then you hear the noisy flush of the toilet and know that Taehyung is going to emerge from the bathroom soon, so you have to wrap this miniature meltdown up pronto. âI wish I was a bearded dragon too, you know. All you do is get fed and sit under the heat bulb. Your life is so easy. You donât even know what capitalism is.â
The silence you get from Pickles is far more support than you get from your human friends once you tell them. Yoongi just raises his eyebrows while Seokjin and Hoseok laugh outright in your face, just like they always do when you cry to them about Taehyung.
You need new friends. These ones are defective. (If only youâd kept the receipt so you could return them.)
âWe learned how to do neck and shoulder massages today!â Taehyung says brightly after the first session.
You hum in response. Youâre rewatching Pacific Rim together, cuddled up against Taehyungâs side, and you donât have to turn your head to know what expression is on his face. Thereâll be that little upturn to his lips, happiness at learning something new. That warmth in his eyes at being able to share it with you, even if you couldn't be there with him. Those little freckles on his face, under his eye, his nose, his lip; the one youâve imagined kissing more times than you can count.
âMy teacher says I have a natural talent with my hands,â he adds, and youâre so grateful that you can blame your sudden intake of breath on the scene thatâs playing on the screen, as high stakes as it is.Â
âThatâs nice,â you say, and mentally pat yourself on the back at keeping the strain out of your voice. You've had a lot of practice at this. âIâm not surprised, though. Youâve always been good at doing things with them.â
Thatâs not a euphemism. Taehyungâs always so careful when he makes things; youâd learned how to fold different origami patterns together, matching crane for crane, lotus for lotus, and heâd always been so delicate with his fingers. Heâs always so careful and considerate with you, too, fingers splayed wide across your shoulder as he squeezes you closer to his side, leaving you breathless.
âI wish you could come too.â Taehyung sounds disappointed. âWe always have so much fun together.â
For the first time in your life youâre grateful that your manager at Olive Chicken is such a hardass and wonât let you swap shifts, so youâd had to miss signing up for the massage course with Taehyungâbecause you know thereâs no way youâd be able to keep it together if there was some sort of tandem practice in class or whatever. Your crush on him is filled with equal parts of tenderness and lust and youâre well aware of that. Youâd rest your hands on the soft skin of Taehyungâs shoulders and back, the lust would overwhelm you, and youâd immediately burst into flames like some sort of demon stepping over the threshold of a church.Â
Why oh why did God have to make Kim Taehyung so hot?
Why oh why did God have to make you so⊠not?
You know Taehyung doesnât see you in a romantic light at all. Youâre grateful for this deep, platonic relationship you have, and you love him to pieces, but holy hell is it hard to walk around with Kim Taehyung looking the way he does and wanting to jump his bones while simultaneously being aware that itâs never going to happen. Whenever he smiles at you, or touches you, or holds you, itâs in exactly the same way as he treats any of his friendsâand as happy as you are to be one of those friends, it also kind of kills you inside.Â
(Because you know you donât have a chance, have never had a chance, and will never have a chance.)
The idea of offering to massage Taehyung is one that makes you want to melt into a puddle of horny goo. But when he offers to massage you, itâs because youâre a convenient practice partner who heâs comfortable with. Itâs no big deal. You could strip naked and slather yourself up in oil and stand in front of him with your bosoms heaving and say âHave at me, big boyâ and Taehyung would say: âSweet! A chance to practice deep tissue massage! Gee, thanks for being such a great pal!â
The kind of deep tissue you want Taehyung to massage is very different to whatever heâs talking about.
⊠Anyway.
You manage to avoid Taehyung using his apparently magic fingers on you for a surprising amount of time, though youâre kept up to date with his progress, because he shares everything with you and tells you about everything and you always, always listen. Because, more than being your crush, heâs one of your best friends and you love him.
Which is why you try your best to be gentle, graciously refusing his offer of a shoulder massage after he sees you wincing, even if with anyone else youâd just tell them to back off with zero hesitation.
âItâs fine,â you say, flapping a hand at him. âI just slept on it funny.â
âA massage would help! It wonât take long, I promise. Five minutes? Please?âÂ
Taehyungâs looking at you with those big puppy eyes of his, pleading. You waver. Youâre torn between being steadfast and avoiding a situation youâve literally had nightmares about (Taehyung had offered to massage you, and youâd said yes, but then youâd fallen over as you were walking to him and suddenly a lasagne had appeared in your hands and youâd spilled it all down your shirt and heâd pointed and laughed and laughed and youâd felt so embarrassed that youâd woken up, cheeks burning), but then he pouts and you give in like the spineless and lovesick fool that you are.
âFive minutes,â you say, and Taehyung nods emphatically, looking pleased.
(You have the backbone of a chocolate Ă©clair.)
You send quiet thanks to whatever God is listening when he doesnât ask you to take your top off and doesnât break out a bottle of scented oil. Instead he just asks for you to straddle a chair, clutching a plushie against your chest to cushion where it leans against the backrest, and tells you to get comfy.
âJust relax,â he says, as you desperately try to remember how your body works and coax it to relax like Taehyung wants you to. You fail miserably. You feel like a ball of rubber bands, each muscle a layer of tighter and tighter elastic thatâs circled around you. âLean forwards a little?â
At least Taehyung canât see your face from this angle. You have no idea what sort of expression is twisting your features; consternation and horrified anticipation, probably. You're basically throttling your plushie, taking out your tension and frustration on the poor thing, Rilakkuma's placid face morphing into a twisted expression of sympathy under your grasping fingers.
âPerfect,â Taehyung says. The sound of praise in his deep voice has your insides turning into overheated syrup, hot and thick, dripping down and pooling between your legs. You hate yourself. Getting turned on by the most innocuous words from your best friend, really? Get it together.
The second you feel Taehyung's warm hands touch the back of your neck, your shoulders hunch up faster than a whiplash, a turtle sucking its head into its shell. Your friend laughs.
âThis is the opposite of relaxing,â he says, voice warm with amusement.Â
âYou surprised me.â You dig your nails into Rilakkuma's soft brown fur. Taehyung just thinks you're not used to being massaged, not that you're being weird because it's him that's touching you. Because he touches you a lot. Heâs just never done it like this. âSorry.â
âIt's fine,â he replies, unruffled and oblivious. âLet me try again?â
You bite your lip, desperately trying to quell the mix of arousal and tension thatâs churning in your stomach, begging your muscles to unwind. Youâve kept your crush a secret from him for this long, you can keep that energy up. (You have to keep that energy up.) âUm. Okay.â
Youâre still tense when Taehyung puts his hands on you again. The touch is warm through your clothes, firm but careful, digging into the sharp line of tension laid across your shoulders; despite the way your heart is threatening to launch itself out of your chest, you start to loosen up, because holy shit that feels nice, actually.
You melt against Rilakkuma and smother the bear's face in your chest. âYour teacher wasnât kidding when they said that youâre good with your hands,â you mumble.Â
Youâve never gotten a proper massage before but it feels so damn good that you canât help but unwind, turning to jelly at the confident presses of Taehyungâs fingers and palms into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder. A little sigh spills past your lips when Taehyung starts to work at the part thatâs been twinging after you lay crookedly on it, limbs akimbo in your sleep after a long night at work. âOh, right there, Tae.â
Taehyung goes still for just a second before continuing, trailing his fingers over your shirt. âHere?â
Your eyes have drifted shut so you can focus on the sensation of that tension being pulled out of your body. âYeah, right there,â you repeat, massaged into a state of lazy euphoria. The breath you let out is long and deep, catching in the back of your throat at a particularly firm rub of Taehyungâs hands; if you werenât so blissed out you might be embarrassed at how much the noise you make is like a moan, but as it is, you donât even notice. You just let out a little sound of discontent when Taehyungâs fingers stutter in their motions, displeased that heâs stopped even for a second.
By the time the massage is over, youâre so relaxed that you feel like you could melt into the floor, a wobbly puddle of unwound muscles and loose limbs. Itâs official. Youâre a massage convert.
âHoly shit.â Your eyes flutter open as you lean away from Rilakkuma so you can turn around. Theyâre the first coherent words youâve spoken for a while; small sighs and sounds have been dripping from your lips and itâs only now that youâre able to regain your breath. âTae, that was amazinââ
Youâre met with the sight of Taehyungâs back as he power walks away, steps rapid, a little shaky, awkward. Before you can ask whatâs wrong, heâs stepping into the bathroom.Â
âI need to wash my hands,â he says without looking at you, before the door slams shut.
You donât remember Tae telling you about how quickly you have to wash your hands after finishing a massage. But, thinking about it, you suppose it makes senseâyou know, with massaging multiple clients or whateverâeven if itâs surprising exactly how fast heâd hoofed it away from you. It sounds like heâs switched both taps on full blast as well, noisy even through the wooden door, and judging from how long heâs in there, heâs being very thorough. Hand washing must be a lot more important than youâd realised.Â
Once Taehyung emerges, his face is a little flushed, cheeks a soft red. You wonder if the hot water tap is playing up again and filling your dinky bathroom with hot steam, and make a mental note to look into it. You smile at Taehyung from your perch on the sofa, Rilakkuma plopped on your lap, smile spread across your features; one that Taehyung returns, as pink-faced as he is.
âHowâs your shoulder feeling?â
âSo much better, honestly,â you admit. Itâs incredible. He hasnât even finished the course yet and he's already this good. He really does have magic hands.
âIâll have to give you massages more often,â Taehyung says, though the end of the sentence trembles a little. He must be light-headed after all the steam in the bathroom.
The thought of more massages doesnât fill you with as much mind-numbing trepidation as it might have earlier, utterly languid as you flop across the sofa, muscles uncoiled after the lovely touch of Taehyungâs even lovelier hands. No wonder people rave about spa days if they leave you feeling like this. Maybe if youâd been staring at Taehyung in the eye when heâd been touching you, then youâd feel a lot more awkwardâas it is, itâs no worse than usual. Your crush is still all-encompassing but you also got a massage out of it, so.
âSounds great.â This time you donât even have to fake your excitement. âNow come sit your butt down so we can order some takeout and decide what to watch.â
When you bend down to speak to Pickles later, the bearded dragon is lolling on his favourite branch. âThereâs still a high chance that Iâm going to die,â you say in a low voice, before you flick the lights off so the lizard can sleep. âBut he hasnât broken out the oils yet, so I think Iâll be okay for now.â
--
Your luck doesnât last.
âStrawberry and champagne, lychee martini, mint mojito, white chocolate, or tropical coconut?â
You look up from where youâre painting your toenails. âHuh?â
Taehyung bundles into the room and throws himself onto your bed, flopping on his belly and ignoring the way the mattress is jostled. You, of course, are used to his antics, which is why youâd swept your open bottle of nail polish up before he could spill it everywhere.
âWhat do you think sounds best?â
âWell, that depends,â you say, squinting at your toes and carefully sweeping the polish over the freshly buffed nails. âFor candles, I think they sound pretty nice. For sauces to pour over a steak, Iâd say Iâd give them all a hard pass. Whatâs it for?â
âMassage oils,â Taehyung says blithely, too busy staring at his phone to see you muffle a curse when your hand slips and you paint your entire little toe blue. âI was wondering which you think sounds best.â
âOh. Uh.â You fumble to clean your toe and salvage the now-terrible pedicure youâre trying to give yourself. It was only a matter of time before massage oils were going to become part of your life. Taehyung never goes into things half-hearted, so of course heâs going to invest in oils, too. Godâs sake. You can never catch a break, can you? âWhy these ones in particular?â
Taehyung pauses for a suspiciously long time, but it gives you the chance to furiously rub at your toe while heâs distracted. âWe get a free bottle from the course,â he says eventually.
Huh. Okay. âThatâs pretty neat. What was the last one? Coconut? Stick with the basics, canât go wrong with that, right?â
âCoconut is always tasty,â Taehyung comments absently, and you glance up from your Smurf toe.
âAgreed, but itâs not like youâre about to eat massage oil, are you?â
Taehyung pauses, and then buries his face into his phone screenâsuddenly very intent on rereading the list of ingredients in each bottle, it seems. âNo, of course not, youâre right,â he mumbles.
Heâs almost finished the course. Heâs not going to be an accredited masseuse or anything, but you definitely think he could be, if he wanted toâyouâve never had less tension in your shoulders and neck in your life. Taehyung always eases his way into your personal space anyway, casual and effortless after years of friendship, but now youâre used to his fingers sliding over the back of your neck, a gliding touch, sending tense little goosebumps over your skin while simultaneously making you melt.Â
âItâs pretty cool that you get free stuff, though.â Your toe is clean, thankfully, no longer blue. âAnd not just, like, a generic bottle of oil or something. They all sound really fancy. I didnât realise that you could get massage oils that were scented like that?â
Taehyung makes a non-committal noise, which is uncharacteristic of him, but youâre too focused on repainting your final nail to pay it too much mind, letting out a loud huff of triumph when youâre done.
âGet me a bag of shrimp crackers, please?â You have a sudden craving but you donât want to penguin waddle to the kitchen and risk getting anything on your wet nails. âYa girl is hungry.â
âGot it.â Taehyung rolls off the bed without protest. Youâre used to his antics, and heâs used to yours, indulging you whenever you feel lazy or want him to do something for you. âYou need me to feed you?â
âI wasnât going to use my toes to feed myself,â you laugh, but Taehyung ends up feeding them to you anyway.
When you recount the list to Seokjin later, his face crumples in a way thatâs equal parts offended and disgusted. âThey all sound terrible,â he says. âWhite chocolate should stay in chocolate form and not be turned into an oil. Why does massage oil even have to smell like anything?â
Youâre both holed up in the tiny smoking nook behind Olive Chicken; neither of you smoke, but itâs a good excuse to go outside and get fresh air during longer shifts.Â
âHey, donât ask me, Iâm not the one whoâs taking the course. I think lychee martini sounds interesting, though.â
âAgree to disagree.â Seokjin unwraps one of the complimentary chocolates the restaurant gives to diners with their bill, swallowing it whole. âBesides, we all know Taehyung could approach you with dirty, used fryer oil and youâd let him dip you in it.â
You slap the next chocolate out of his hand before it reaches his mouth. Heâs unmoved and simply plucks another from his pocket, which is apparently bulging with them.
âYoongichi,â Jin says, calling to the delivery boy, whoâs just appeared from the dark like some tired-eyed spectre of fried chicken. âTell me this. If I were to ask you what smell of massage oil youâd prefer, whatââ
âI would say that I really could not care less.â Yoongi flops down on one of the rickety fold-out chairs before silently accepting a chocolate from Seokjinâs stash. âAnd then Iâd ask why youâre asking me in the first place, seeing as youâre the one using it, not me. If Taehyungâs asking what massage oil youâd prefer, Y/n, itâs because he wants to rub it all over you specifically.â Yoongi munches on the chocolate, already filling in the blanks without needing to be told the context. You really are that transparent, huh. âPlease, weâve been over this.â
Jin pouts. âYou ruined my set up. I had a whole speech prepared.â
âOh no.â Yoongi remains blank-faced. âHow terrible.â
âI hate both of you,â you say. âIâm going to tell Pickles how mean you are.â
âI bet if that lizard could talk, heâd tell you how tired he was of you two dancing around each other, just like the rest of us,â Yoongi says.
Thereâs no dancing around, though, no matter what your friends say. Well. Not on Taehyungâs end anyway. Youâre out here doing the fandango, castanets and all, while Taehyung just stands stock still, oblivious.
You let out an incredibly long sigh. Seokjin hands you a sympathetic chocolate.
The massage oil doesnât make an appearance in your life for a little while, though. The end of the course comes and goes, Taehyung proudly flapping the laminated certificate at you, wobble-wobble-wobble, filling the apartment with the sound of rippling plastic. But no coconut oil.
The scent of âtropical coconutâ has started to haunt your dreams, in a way thatâs both good and bad; when you wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, itâs not because youâre having nightmares, letâs just put it like that. Itâs like thereâs an invisible countdown that you canât trace and itâs only a matter of time before it ticks over and the shoulder massages (that youâve gotten very comfortable with) edge into something different. Taehyungâs going to innocently offer to give you a backrub and uncap that bottle of scented oil and youâre going to explode into a mess of putty under his hands.
Well⊠then again⊠you had been worried about that with all the shoulder rubs. Now look at you. You weather those like a champ. Sure, your skin tingles and you run hot and you think about the sensation of Taehyungâs hands gliding over you whenever youâre alone, but youâre basically fine. Your friend who just so happens to also be the great love of your life remains none the wiser.
You bet a full back rub would feel great after a long week.
Which is why when Taehyung steps into the apartment with a look on his face that you immediately recognise as tiredness, you sort of wish you knew how to massage people, too.
He falls into your arms with little fanfare. Itâs been one of those days, one of those ones that everyone gets, even Taehyungâheâs usually so Switched On and Exuberant and Alive, and people donât seem to realise that even he feels exhausted, sometimes.
âYou alright, bubs?â You canât massage him but you can rub his back soothingly, let him snuffle against your neck. Sometimes you think about that little space between your chin and collarbones as Taehyungâs, a hollow thatâs perfect for him to press his face into, hair tickling your chin as he curls up into you. His and his alone. âDid something happen?â
He just shakes his head.
âOkay,â you say.
(Close proximity and skin on skin with Taehyung doesnât always have your pulse rising and your heart racing. Sometimes itâs just this: quiet and soft, your heart bright with fierce affection for this boy, the only thought in your mind that you want him to be happy, forever.)
The long silence is broken by the sound of Taehyung heaving in a breath before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.Â
âThank you.â His voice is quiet and low, far less energetic than his usual self.
âNothing to thank me for, Tae,â you reply. âAlways here for you. You know that, right?â
He doesnât respond straight away. He just burrows closer, draped over you, until he murmurs, barely audible. âWhy?â
Your face twists. âWhy, what? Why am I always here for you?â
âYeah.â Taehyung squeezes himself impossibly closer, skin warm against yours, forehead pressed to the skin of your neck. You canât see his expression from this angle.
âBecause youâre one of my best friends and I love you,â you answer, immediately. You donât even have to think about it. âBecause youâre important to me and if thereâs anything I can do for you, I will. Iâll celebrate the good things in your life with you, and Iâll be at your side during the bad times, just like you are with me. Please donât ever forget how much I love you, okay?â
Thereâs a pause, and then it feels like all the tension leaves Taehyungâs body, slumping his whole body weight against you. âOkay,â he murmurs. âI love you too. Thank you,â he says again. You just reply by squeezing his shoulders.
Heâs a little quieter for a few days after that. Youâre not sure why, because heâd perked up after a lazy evening of lying around and eating too many snacks, flopped against you like an oversized, clinging starfishâbut youâre gentle with him nonetheless.Â
(Well. Youâre always gentle with him. It just takes you half a second to fold in the face of his whims, rather than a whole, full second.)
So when the dreaded bottle of oil finally appears, youâre far less ready to fight off Taehyungâs insistence on a full body massage, caught off guard after days of indulging him. Fuck.Â
âYouâve had a long week!â Taehyung insists as you scrabble your way over the sofaâs backrest so you can hide behind it, clutching a cushion to your chest. âYou need to relax!â
Without looking you fling the cushion over the sofa. Judging from the fact that Taehyung doesnât make a sound, youâve missed. âI was feeling perfectly relaxed until you started yelling at me about it! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me being relaxed?â
Taehyung doesnât respond. Oh, crap. Maybe you did hit him with the cushion?
You pop up from behind the sofa. Nope. It's an embarrassing distance away from Taehyung, whoâs got that surprisingly large bottle of oil held loosely in his hands. Thereâs an expression on his face that you canât decipher; a little crestfallen, a little unsure, but thereâs something else there, too, something you canât put a name to.
âTaehyung?â
âI just⊠wanted to help,â he says. âYouâre always there for me when Iâm not feeling great, and you calm me down, and I wanted to do the same for you.â
You immediately feel like the worst human being alive. Take the feeling you get whenever you accidentally step on an animalâs tail, multiply it by infinity, and thatâs only just a drop in the ocean of awful, awful guilt that youâre drowning in.Â
âOh, Tae,â you say. Your voice comes out so much softer and sweeter than you mean it to, but you can't help it. âIâm sorry. I was just joking. Itâs really nice of you to be so concerned. You just surprised me. You do help me relax and your massages are great.â (You tell him that often enough that he should know it, but it never hurts to repeat a compliment.)
His face lifts. Itâs like the sun bursting forth from the clouds after heavy rain, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes, blinded by the brightness and beauty. Kim Taehyung is so unfairly gorgeous (but what else is new?). âSo I can give you a massage?â
Despite the fact the prospect makes you want to fling yourself into space, when youâre faced with Taehyungâs dark eyes and wide smile and large, warm hands, you cave, because of course you do. If, way back when youâd first been frying up that kimchi rice and letting Taehyung thrust his phone into your face, youâd been told youâd end up in this position, you would have laughed outright. Haha, yeah, sure, like youâd be stupid enough to let yourself be wrangled into such a vulnerable state in front of Taehyung, nowhere to run, helpless under his fingers. Not.
But here you are. Whipped for Kim Taehyung, forever and always.
The pastel blue towels under your stomach and chest are soft as they shield you from the cold, hard floor. Youâre incredibly aware of how chilly the apartment feels, air prickling against your bare skin; you shift to try and get comfortable, glancing over your shoulder to fiddle with the towel thatâs draped over your hips and ass, making sure itâs covering everything. Taehyung insists on authenticity (as if youâre not lying on the floor of your apartment rather than on a massage table) and he says that itâs normal to be completely naked for a full-body massage, even underneath any towels that are covering you up.
Authenticity is also why heâs in the other room, warming up the massage oil, because thatâs apparently a thing?
(Youâre going to die.)
It doesnât matter that Taehyung will only be able to see the back of your head, your shoulder blades, the small of your back, a slip of your thighs, your calves. None of these things are especially scandalous; all the parts of your body that someone might find more interesting are out of sight, pressed against the floor or hidden under a layer of Egyptian cotton microfibres.Â
And yet you canât help but be hyperaware of how youâre entirely unclothed. Even if it doesnât bother Taehyungâwhat with, you know, the fact heâs not interested in you like that and doesnât find you attractive at all (sigh)âembarrassment creeps hot and uncomfortable under your skin.
It just feels so crazy intimate to be laid out like this, even if people do this all the time, happily strip down to let professionals rub the tension out of their body.Â
(Then again, most people arenât best friends with their masseuses and havenât harboured long, one-sided crushes on them, either.)
Just breathe. You can do this. You love the shoulder massages that Taehyungâs been giving you; just think of this as a shoulder massage.Â
⊠A shoulder massage that involves warm oil, near-nakedness, and Taehyungâs hands sliding all over you.
⊠You are going to have a very long venting session with Pickles after all this.
Youâre so distracted by your own self pity and distress that you donât register the sound of Taehyung entering the room; the little pause when he steps over the threshold, feet stuttering, just for a moment. Itâs only when heâs kneeling down that you notice his presence, body jolting from surprise before you let out a slip of high laughter.
âJesus, Tae,â you say. In any other circumstance, youâd be clutching your chest. âYou scared me.â
âSorry.â He sounds genuinely apologetic.
Your cheek is pillowed on your arms. When you turn to look at your best friend you immediately regret it; heâs settled back on his ankles, knees spread wide, and you come eye-to-eye with his crotch.
In an effort to look away from his clothed dick, your gaze flies up to his face, which might be even worse. He has this intense look in his eyes, and wow, alright, youâve never been able to see Taehyungâs face as heâs been massaging you, but you never realised exactly how seriously he seems to take it, judging from his expression.
(Do all massage therapists look like that when they work?)
âThatâs alright.â Youâre a little breathless, but youâre going to blame that on how your boobs are smooshed into the floor, and not on anything else, nuh uh. Shoulder massage. Itâs a shoulder massage. Itâs just like a full bodied shoulder massage. (Maybe if you repeat it to yourself often enough then youâll actually start to believe it.) âUh. Do you need me to⊠do anything? Or do I just lie here?â
Taehyungâs expression lightens a little at the uncertainty in your tone, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. âYouâre perfect right where you are,â he says, and then he reaches for the bottle of oil.
You turn your head away again, cheeks burning. Thereâs no way youâll be able to handle the visual of him slicking his fingers and palms up. âCool,â you say, voice only a little strained. âCoolcoolcoolcool.â
(Itâs not cool.)
You donât have a visual, but you do get the auditory experience thanks to the relative silence in the apartment. Goosebumps ripple down the back of your neck and trail down your spine at the sound of Taeâs hands sliding against each other, thoroughly coated in the warmed oil, and youâre so glad that you can blame it on the chill in the air.
At first, itâs okay. Taehyung starts at the parts of your body that are used to receiving his attention, though itâs different without the barrier of clothing in the way, not to mention how easily his palms glide over you, the air full of the light scent of coconut. Itâs different, but manageable, and you think you just might be okay; as always, his touches are firm but careful, and your body is used to this by now, relaxing.
But. The second you feel Taehyungâs touch between your shoulder blades, you stiffen with a shiver. The oil is the perfect temperature against your skin, but youâve always had a sensitive back; you canât help but clench your fists, digging your fingers into your palms. Relax. Just breathe.Â
âYouâve got a lot of tension here.â Taehyungâs voice is low as he digs the heel of his palm into the dip of your spine.
Itâs because youâre touching me there, you think to yourself, but just let out a non-committal hum of agreement instead.Â
You feel Taehyung's hands, a repeated sliding motion between your shoulder blades; the tension starts to leak out of you again, but your breath hitches in your throat at how you're pressed downwards and into the cotton towels beneath you, nipples hardening against them.
Thank God you're on your front so Tae can't see what effect he's having on you.
âBetter?â
Taehyung's voice is always deep, but you'd swear it was even deeper in this moment, pitched low. Maybe thatâs because the sound of blood pumping is filling your ears so itâs hard to discern. At this point, who even knows? Not you, thatâs for sure.
âYep.â Why are you so breathless? You havenât moved at all, but you sound like youâve just run the 100m sprint, winded and weak. âSo much better.â
You regret agreeing to this. You are so out of your depth and thereâs no way youâre going to be able to hide exactly how much this is affecting you and you want to collapse in on yourself and shrivel up like a sundried tomato, tiny and wrinkly and underwhelming.Â
Taehyung shifts to reach more of you and you squeeze your eyes shut so you donât come face first with his crotch again, shielding yourself from the view of his loose linen trousers stretched almost taut with how wide his knees are. Itâs both a blessing and a curseâa blessing because youâre saved from aforementioned view, but a curse because your sensation of touch is heightened, and all youâre aware of is his hands sliding down your sides. Youâd swear those fingers were so long he could circle your waist with ease.
(Massages are meant to relax you and yet youâve never felt so tense in your life.)
Taehyung clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. âI canât get a good angle like this,â he mutters.
Before you can think anything or say anything, you become aware of the sound of moving and shifting andâ
Your eyes fly open. Taehyungâs straddling your thighs, heavy and warm, and you suck in a breath so sharp and fast you can feel your chest expand, brain full of the screaming clang of warning bells. Thereâs no way this is a normal masseuse thing. Thereâs no way. Itâs intimate and entirely too physical and thereâs absolutely no way that this is something Taehyung learned in class.Â
(What is he doing?)
But then any coherent thought in your brain slips when his hands settle on you again.
They so, so lightly brush the hem of the towel that preserves your modesty, and you canât help the full-body shiver that wracks through you. You suck your lips into your mouth, swallowing down the noise that threatens to bubble up in your throat. Thereâs the sensation of fingers trailing up the line of your spine, feather light, smoothed by the slide of oil, and you feel like molten lava, burning hot and bright.
âTaehyung.â Your voice is high and faint.
His fingers splay down your ribcage and run down your sides, confident and smooth, warm with that coconut-scented oil, and youâre dying, youâre living; you want to disappear, you never want this to end.Â
âTaehyung,â you repeat. Your voice shakes.
He hums, low and indulgent. âYes?â
âM-my thighs,â you stammer, unable to articulate yourself. Why are you on my thighs, oh God, youâre so warm and heavy on top of me, oh God oh God oh God.
Taehyung completely misunderstands you. âOh? Of course.â He sounds nonchalant. âIâll massage those next.â
You can feel the drag of his linen trousers against your skin as he moves down to rest on your calves, and hear the bottle open as Taehyung drizzles more oil over his hands, far more than he could possibly need. His palms feel so broad and warm against the smoothness of your thighs, touches firm and confident as he digs his fingers into the muscle, and, oh, fuck, this is, this is too muchâ
Your legs jump when Taehyung hitches the towel up, just a little, baring more of your body.
âFuck.â You can't keep quiet any longer. âTae, Iâm fine, Iâm feeling way less tense now.â
Heâs still, for a moment, before his hands slide up the back of your thighs. âAre you sure? You want me to stop?â
Itâs only then that you realise how deeply Taehyung is breathing, fast and low, voice rough and gravelled. His fingers rest in wait, warm and slick with oil; youâre so close to losing any modicum of modesty, only one motion away from that towel being rucked high enough that thereâs nothing protecting you from Taehyungâs touch and eyes.
âI havenât finished yet, though,â he continues, digging his thumbs into your skin as he pulls his hands down your thighs, mindlessly following the motions heâs been taught. âThereâs still more to go.â
You could twist around to look at him but youâre almost afraid to look at his face, afraid of what youâd find there. He sounds as affected as you are, but thereâs absolutely no way. Thereâs no way.
âYou donât need to do the whole massage if Iâm feeling relaxed, right?âÂ
(Because youâre feeling so relaxed right now, of course, and not like youâre about to go supernova and burst into heat and light. Absolutely.)
(But.)
(But. Taehyungâs hands settle at the back of your knees, swiping the sensitive skin with his thumbs. You canât see his face, but you can feel something in that touch, something more than skin deep, like itâs sinking into you, through skin and muscle and bone, in in in, settling inside you, a flicker ofâofâ)
âWant to do this perfectly for you,â he murmurs. You clench your hands at the husky note in his voice, nails digging so hard into your palms it hurts. âYou deserve the best. I want you to feel good.â
He must be able to see your back rise and fall as you breathe in sharply.
âTaehyung.â Almost pleading.Â
âYes, love?â
You suck in another sharp breath. The pet name sounds so soft and sweet in his mouth, somehow, even with the heated edge to his voice. One thatâs definitely there. Youâre not imagining it.Â
(Youâre not.)
âDo you want me to make you feel good?â he continues.
Before you can think, you nod.
âYes,â you whisper. âPlease.â
Youâre trembling. Taehyungâs still heavy and warm across the back of your calves, sliding one hand to the inside of a knee and up the soft skin of your inner thighs. You instinctively shift them apart, as far as you can with Taehyung trapping your legs, and, oh, his hand is going higher, ohâ
His hand is so big, cupping your overheated sex. Itâs hard to tell where the oil ends and your own arousal begins, flushed wet and hot; when he dips his middle finger between your lower lips, long and gentle and firm, you let out a noise you didnât realise you were capable of. The angle is off, a little awkward, the motions of Taehyungâs fingers stifled by how youâre lying flush to the ground, but God, youâre so turned on it barely matters.
Youâre hyperaware of everything. The soft touch of air on the cooling oil across your skin. The fall of the towel, bunched around your waist, slowly slipping to one side. Taehyungâs hand, his fingertips easing through the heat of you, sliding over your clit, over your entrance, slow and soft and amazing.Â
âAgain,â you plead. âAgain, Tae, please.â
âFeels good?â He asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, cheek still pillowed against your arm.
âSo good,â you say. âBut I want more, please, Tae.â
âAnything you want,â he murmurs.
Taehyungâs hand shifts between your legs again, so hot, so big, so reverent. The slide is smooth as his fingers press into your folds, practically gliding. You twist beneath him, letting out a noise of displeasure when he draws his hand away, but then he lifts off your calves. You let him thrust your legs apart before he resettles between them.
Just as youâre distracted with the towel being tugged away from your hips, baring you entirely, Taehyung slides a finger into your weeping cunt.
You whine. It's so long. Now that your calves arenât trapped, thereâs nothing to stop you from rutting back against his fingers. He splays his other hand over the soft flesh of your ass, encouraging the rolling motion of your hips, and youâre gasping, wanton in your noises of desire and pleasure. One finger becomes two, and then three, Taehyungâs voice a low undercurrent to your stuttered moans as he presses them as deep as he can.
âJust like that, angel,â he breathes. âWant you to feel good, keep making those pretty noises, let me know how good it isââ
âTaehyung,â you whine, dragging the syllables of his name out when he curls his fingers inside you, so amazing, hitting you in all the right places.
âBaby.â He sounds wrecked, words sliding together, and you havenât even touched him yet. âYouâre so hot nâ wet, fuck. So perfect. Just like that, keep moving like that.â
You can hear the slick sounds of his thrusts into you. Heâs already learned what you like, twisting his fingers in a way that leaves you breathless; theyâre so fucking long, sliding into your greedy cunt with ease, reaching so much deeper than your own can. His pretty lovely hands are on you, inside you, and youâre heady at the thought.
âThere, Tae, donât stop, please, p-please.â The coil twists tighter in between your legs, a taut thread thatâs ready to snap. He listens, repeating the motion thatâs pulling you closer to the edge, eyes wide, staring at the way youâre writhing underneath him; the way the oil on your back and legs shimmers in the light, the evidence of his touch all over you, shining. âTae, oh, God, right there, yes, yes, yesââ
Your entire body goes tense and then youâre cumming around Taehyungâs fingers, clenching your thighs together, trapping him inside as you buck your hips. You grind back against his hand, a loud moan falling from your lips, drowning out the noise of awe that Taehyung makes when he feels your walls pulsate around him. You're warm and tight and wet, arousal flooding thick against his skin, and he lets out a stuttered groan, fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, feeling every wave of pleasure that rocks through your core.
Youâre panting by the time you settle back down and barely make a sound when Taehyung drags his fingers out of you. When he leans down the oil on your skin feels tacky against his clothes, material sticking to you, chest to back, hips to ass. You can feel the hot curve of him through his trousers, his cock heavy, getting harderâand it feels sososo good.
Taehyungâs face is so close, now, chin hooked over your shoulder. Even though you can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against you, the smile on his face is so gentle. Your heart thrums in your chest.
âSo cute n' pretty,â he says, and presses his nose to the soft curve of your cheek. Rather than coconut, all you can smell is his shampoo, familiar and homely and heady. âAll over. God, I canât believe youâd let me touch you like this. Iâm so lucky. Was that good, baby?â
âYes,â you say, and then, because youâre still floating in a light haze of disbelief: âIâm the lucky one.âÂ
Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. Itâs a honeyed moment, dripping slow and sweet, even sweeter when he tilts his head forward. His lips are soft against your cheekbone, your jaw, and when you turn towards him, theyâre even softer against your mouth. You can feel the shape of his smile, and it tastes so bright, small kisses that turn open mouthed, so perfect. Because youâre kissing Kim Taehyung, your Taehyung, something youâve been dreaming about for so long, nowâeven if this entire situation is pretty unbelievable, honestly.
When you pull back, his eyes spark with unadulterated joy. Heâs warm and heavy, pinning you down against the towels that are soft against your front; arching your spine, you lean back against the weight of Taehyungâs body, his cock fattening up through the layers of clothes that separate you. He lets out a breath of surprise before he grinds down, pressing that hard heat against you, and your cunt clenches.
âCan I finish the massage?â He asks, sounding almost eager, even with the rasp of lust in his voice. You canât help but laugh, an affectionate giggle that has you knocking your foreheads together.
âOf course,â you say, and he catches your lips again, swallowing the last of your laughter, sweeping his tongue over your lips, inside your mouth, wet and hot and a little messy, but good.Â
âYou need to be on your back,â Taehyung continues, slow after the kiss is broken, and, oh, okay, that has you shivering. âIf you want to?â
Of course you want to.
âOkay,â you whisper. âLet me move.â
He shifts to give you room, but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the bump of the top of your spine, lips sliding against the oil that heâd rubbed there earlier, goosebumps erupting over your skin.
âSo good to me,â he whispers. You donât think he even means for you to hear it.Â
(Itâs said without thought; not thoughtless, no, but a soft little thing that says so much. A thought thatâs slipped across his mind and fallen from his lips, warm and tender. Like youâre always good to him, and he sees it, he knows it, he feels it, he thinks it, and heâs almost in disbelief about it, because youâre so good to him.)
You feel warm and languid after cumming, loose-limbed as you flop onto your back. Thereâs no going back now. Thereâs no going back from this moment, naked and vulnerable under Taehyung, nothing hidden away any moreâthe soft fall of your breasts, your stomach, the lines of your hips, your fingers tightening in the towels spread beneath you as Taehyungâs eyes drink you in, wide and overawed at the sight of your flushed cunt, ripe and slick and ready for him.
(There's no more hiding how much you want Taehyung to have you, body and heart alike.)
You can see the shape of your body silhouetted on his clothes, where the oil has seeped into the material from how close heâd been pressed against you. You can see just how affected he is, cock straining against the loose linen of his white trousers, and you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound you make.
âLook at you,â Taehyung breathes, kneeling between your legs. âYouâre so perfect.â
Your cheeks burn. âTaehyung, please,â you say, embarrassed. You really arenât, especially in comparison to model-gorgeous Kim Taehyung, eyes dark and full of heated lust, hair falling in his eyes, effortlessly beautiful, always.
âYou are,â he insists. âYou have no idea how perfect you are.â
Before he reaches for the massage oil, he sucks the taste of you off his fingers, sloppy and messy. Your pussy throbs at the sight. Andâyou were also right about the visual being too much to handle, breath catching in your throat as you watch it drip into his broad hands. His palms shine as he rubs them together, interlacing his fingers, so graceful in their motions. Youâre so wet from your orgasm, only getting wetter as you stare back at Taehyung, whose gaze has been heavy on you the whole time.
He starts at your collarbones. Itâs even slower than before, and you ease underneath him, revelling in the softness of his touch. He sweeps his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, circling his long fingers around your wrists before lifting one of your hands. Your eyelashes flutter as he presses a kiss to your palm, a motion so full of adoration and tenderness it steals your breath away, and you squirm, shy.
âTae,â you whine. âYou canât just do that.â
Of course he doubles down, lifting your other hand and repeating the motion, letting his lips linger between your head line and your heart line. âI can,â he says, words warm in your cupped palm.Â
âI hope you didnât do this in class.â Your voice is too weak for it to come out as the joke you mean it to be.Â
Taehyung just shakes his head, mouth brushing over the tips of your fingers. âOnly for you,â he says. âDid the whole class for you. I wantedâwanted an excuse to touch you more,â he admits, and your heart feels like itâs going to launch itself out of your throat.
âThen touch me,â you say, trying to sound confident even if your cheeks burn.
And he does. He lets your hands drop, gliding his touch back up your arms, down your body, over your legs; he massages your thighs and calves, digs his thumbs into the arches of your feet, circling his fingers around your ankles, shackles you donât want to escape from. You feel so relaxed and lax, somehow, even if every touch has you biting your lip, anticipation roiling in your stomach for whatâs to come, Taehyung laying your legs down softly before he shifts back up, hands held out towards youâ
âthen he cups your breasts in his big, big hands and your back arches, fingers sliding over your nipples, glistening with coconut oil, circling them with the pads of his thumbs. You let out an embarrassing whine.
âOh, Tae,â you beg. âMore, please.â
âWhatever you want, sweetheart.â
You smile at another soft, unexpected pet name, flustered, but then your eyes slide shut when Taehyung bends down to kiss your neck as he continues to run his hands over the swell of your breasts. He trails his lips over your oiled skin, shifts down, drawing a line from your neck to the valley of your chest, the hard line at the center of your ribcage.
âTae,â you murmur, and then, feeling bold under the heat of Taehyungâs dark eyesâ âBaby.â
He hums before laying another sloppy kiss against your sensitive skin. You can feel the curve of his smile in the kiss. âYes, love?â
âIs it really okay for you to⊠you know⊠get that oil in your mouth? I donât want you to get sick,â you say, concerned, even through the haze of your arousal. His lips shine with it, at how heâs been trailing his mouth over all the parts of your body that heâs touched.
Thereâs a short beat, and then Taehyung buries his head against your neckâin that little hollow thatâs his, in a motion heâs done dozens of times. Except this time youâre naked and he still has fingers splayed across the soft skin of your chest, nipples dragging underneath his palms.
âYouâre always so considerate.â His words are muffled against your skin. âItâs fine. Itâs edible.â
âYou got edible massage oil from your course?â
Taehyung hesitates. âNo,â he admits. âI bought it. Itâs edible and, uh. Safe for intimate use.â
Youâre silent, just for a moment, and then you canât help it. You start to laugh.Â
âKim Taehyung,â you say, body shaking with amusement. âDid you buy edible massage oil that you can also use as lube?â
Taehyung pulls his face away from your neck and glances up. Youâre giggling at him, and he feels so full of love and affection; he canât help but join in, both laughing at him, loud and carefree.
âItâs why I asked which one you liked,â he confesses, once he can catch his breath.
âI canât believe you lied to me,â you say, but you donât mind, really, and he knows it. You lift a hand to push hair out of his face, running your fingers down his scalp. He leans into your touch with a smile, bright and lovely, before he abruptly shifts one of his hands down so he can lick a hot, wet stripe across the skin of your breast.
That stops your laughter pretty fast, surprised hiccup shifting into a broken moan when he engulfs your nipple in the heat of his mouth. âO-oh,â you gasp. âOh, Taehyungââ
âBeen thinking about this for so long.â Taehyungâs eyes are lidded and dark as he leans back, watching the way you react to his touch, arching up towards him. âWanted to touch you like this so much.â
âWanted it too,â you breathe. âWantedâoh, God, Tae, fuckââ
Itâs overwhelming. Not just the way Taehyung is flicking his tongue over each of your nipples, pressing his lips against your skin, noâbut the idea that heâs been hoping for this, too. Each wet motion of his tongue over your pebbled skin drags pulls out of you; Taehyungâs cock twitches at a loud keen thatâs drawn from your lips, a wet patch of precum seeping through his boxers and trousers, darkening the fabric, even though you havenât touched him yet.
When you reach out to grasp him through his clothes, his hips jolt forward and he bites off a surprised gasp, cutting through the sound with his teeth. He feels long and heavy as you stroke him, thumbing over the wet patch at his tip, hot, even through all those layers between your skin and his.
âI want to feel you, Tae,â you say, staring at him. âInside me. Please.â
His breath hitches when you tighten your fingers around his shaft and drag your hand upwards, slow and intent.Â
âThe oil isnât condom friendly,â he admits, abashed.Â
âThen you can cum in my mouth,â you reply. No hesitation.
Taehyungâs eyes are so wide, but then he smiles, eyes squeezing into crescents, mouth turning up into that lovely, broad grin of his. He looks so sweet and sincere, and you feel like you could explode, stuffed overfull with love for him.
âYou really are perfect,â he says.
âOnly for you,â you reply, your smile just as bright.
He lays one final kiss to your chest, above your beating heart, before he starts to strip. The oil has obviously soaked through his shirt and onto his skin because it sticks when he peels it off and carelessly throws it aside.Â
Just like his heart, Taehyungâs body is soft and lovely. You sit up so you can touch him properly, catching him off guard when you pull him in for a kissâone he eagerly leans into, and without the shirt in the way you can feel the way your skin slides against his, softened with oil.Â
There really is no one as beautiful as Kim Taehyung. You drag your hands over him, so warm and wonderful under your palms; his chest, his cute tummy, his waist, his hips, the soft skin above his red, neglected cock. Heâs radiant in his nakedness, every easing line of his body so perfect as he kneels in front of you, the flush of his skin, the heavy weight of his arousal, head shining with precum, so wet itâs practically dripping.
You lean in to kiss his neck and nip at his Adam's apple as his hands slide over your shoulder blades and down your back, the parts that make you shudder.
âWant you, Tae.â You whisper into his mouth, a soft secret that isnât really a secret at all, not any more. âAll of you.â
âGoing to give you everything you want.â The words flow out of him with ease. âEverything you want.â
His chest and stomach shine with the massage oil thatâs rubbed off from your own skin. You run your hands across him, and when you finally grasp his cock without the barrier of cloth in the way, heâs almost burning under your grasp, thick, his entire body shuddering when you pump his length. So sensitive to your touch.
âIâm goinâ to make you cum again,â he promises, and you love it, the way he talks when heâs losing himself. âBet youâll feel so good around my cock, so perfect.â
A shiver skates through your body. Taehyungâs fingers dig into your skin when he feels you trembling under his hands, and all you can think about is how you want him in you.
âPlease,â you say. âPlease, wanna make you feel good tooââ
âHands and knees, angel,â he rasps, and, God, yes, those words cut straight through you, sharp and electric.
Maybe you should feel embarrassed at how quickly you obey. The towels underneath you, so carefully placed at the start, perfectly flat, become rumpled as you shift into position; you arch your back, wanting to look as good as possible, and glance over your shoulder to see if it works.
Judging from the look on Taehyungâs face, it does. He looks like heâs never seen anything more awe-inspiring, eyes wide and mouth a little slack, dumbstruck. But then his jaw snaps shut and he splays his hands over the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your ass, shuffling closer to you; you feel the curve of his cock slide against your skin and you bite back a noise of need.
âFuck, so beautiful.â He ruts forward, and you can feel the wetness of his precum slicking against you, a beaded line drawn across the sheen of massage oil. âMy beautiful, perfect girl.â
âTae,â you plead, already overwhelmed with need, heart squeezing at his words.
âJust one more thing, angel, I promise.â
Itâs a good thing that the bottle of massage oil is so big, considering how liberal Taehyung is with it. You gasp when he uses one hand to spread your ass and before you can react thereâs a drizzle of oil falling onto your skin, down-down-down, over your cunt, dripping over your inner thighs; Taehyung catches the excess with his palms before he slicks himself up, spreading that sweet coconut over his throbbing cock.
(You wonder what itâll taste like when you lick it off him.)
When you feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at your pussy, your entire body lights up in anticipation, nerve endings on fire, every inch of your body singing under Taehyungâs touchâand when he finally sinks in, itâs almost effortless. Heâs thick and long but everything slides so easy; you gasp and he moans, both lost in how your body opens up for him, hot and wet. By the time heâs bottomed out you're a quivering mess, collapsed onto your elbows. Youâre so full. You feel split open in all the best ways, wanting to draw him in impossibly deeper even so.
Taehyung is gripping your sides, hands unmoving even with the slick oil underneath them, fingers digging into your skin. Heâs breathing so loud, and when you experimentally shift your hips, he bites back a noise that cuts through that breath.
âHowâs it feel, love?â His words slur together in arousal, but the hand that strokes your back is slow, thoughtful. âFeel good?â
âFuck me, Tae, baby, please,â you beg. Itâs so, so so much, so good, amazing, hotter and bigger and harder than anything youâd let yourself imagine, your entire body taking Taehyung and holding him in, in, in. âPlease, I need it, it feels good but I want more, please.â
When he pulls away itâs slow and torturous and he goes so far he almost slips out, cock nearly sliding out of your folds. You whine, a little shameless, mostly needy, but thenâ
The snap of his hips drives you forwards, towels shifting underneath as you scrabble for a hold on something. Each sharp motion of Taehyungâs body has you choking for air and letting out whimpers and gasps, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin; his hipbones meet the soft flesh of your ass, again and again, but all you can focus on is the thick heat of his cock inside you, in-out-in-out, the press of his balls against your clit, everything so wet and smooth and slick.
You can feel how youâre losing yourself to that heady place thatâs golden bright with feeling, lust and sex, the rest of the world gone, unimportant. Thereâs nothing but thisâTaehyung touching you, filling your body so well, so perfect, helping you chase that high thatâs growing faster and faster, that precipice of pleasure that heâs going to throw you over again, intent on it.
One of his hands trails up your back, between that sensitive dip of your shoulder blades and into your hair, locks tangling with coconut oil before he urges you up. He doesnât yank or pull but his hold is firm and you end up back on your hands, arms trembling as you try to keep your balance, back bowed, overwhelmed.Â
âBaby,â he rasps. âOh, youâre so tight nâ hot, so pretty, fuck. You feel so good, do you feel good?â
Your answer is almost a wail, so overcome with pleasure, sensation, the glide of his hands over your shining skin, the mix of oil and arousal that drips out of you, only getting wetter with each thrust of his hips into you. âSo good, o-oh God, Tae, baby, fuck, oh, theretherethereââ
âHere?â
He punctuates this with a roll of his hips, using the hand still on your hip to pull you back onto his cock as he fills you up once more, throbbing heat. He bends over you, and this time, thereâs nothing stopping the skin on skin contact, the slide of his chest against your back as he kisses the soft skin behind your ear, nipping at your lobe, and thatâs it, youâre gone. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth falls open as another orgasm crashes through you, legs shaking as you cum around Taehyungâs cock, grinding back against him to drag out that pleasure; the only thing holding you up is the hand still in your hair, the lips trailing up the side of your bared neck, the hard cock inside you, keeping you against him, so many points of connection with Taehyung.
(His chest pressed against your back, heart beating so hard you can feel it, your own heart moving in tandem, matching him.)
Heâs been whispering filth to you, heated praise and love, how good you feel, how beautiful you are, what itâs like to see you like this, touch you like this, have you like this. Lovely, pretty, perfect, gorgeous, hot nâ wet nâ tight, fuck, love, oh.
Youâre still shivering, the final pulses of your orgasm curling through you with each unintentional shift of Taehyungâs hips, the drag of his length inside your inner walls. You can feel something dripping out of you; oil, cum, you don't know, but fuck, it feels so so good.
âOh, God,â you say. Breathless. âOh, Taehyung, oh.â
âPretty darling,â he murmurs. He swivels his hips, grinding against you, and your entire body jolts with oversensitivity, clit swollen where his balls press against it. You tighten around him and groan at how hot and big he still feels inside, even as you still shiver from the come down of your second orgasm. âGonna roll you over so I can see that perfect face.â
And when youâre on your back again, fucked out and mussed and wrecked, he just stares at you. Youâve watched his face for so long, seen so many expressions flit across his features, but never something like thisâitâs a mix of amazement and awe and tenderness and lust and love, a lift to his brows and a spark in his eyes and a set to his lips.
And when he leans down to kiss you, that look doesnât leave. It melts and softens around the edges as you catch each other's mouths, as you kiss and kiss, small tender things interspersed with longer, deeper touches, lips and teeth and tongueâhis eyes darken and his mouth flushes darker pink, kiss swollen and so beautiful, but that expression stays. It stays for you.Â
Kim Taehyung is beautiful and lovely and unique. Kim Taehyung is so far out of your reach itâs kind of stunning, actually. And yet, here you are, existence of his touch over every part of you, in every part of you, lust driven, love full; the carefully balanced weight of his body splayed over you, pinning you down, keeping you close.
âI wanna see you cum, Tae,â you say. âPlease?â
And just like he always does, Taehyung indulges you, just like you indulge him. He presses back inside you, cunt opening up for him so easy, so smooth, like his touch has already been etched into the memory of your body, perfect for him. He stays pressed close, face so near as he rolls into each thrust, sweat and coconut oil painted across your skin as your bodies shift together.
Heâs been covering you in his words, both heated and sweet, and now you return the favour. You tell him how good he feels, how beautiful he is, so good, so perfect, so considerate, how much youâve wanted this. So good, so long and thick, oh, Tae, feels so good, ah-ah-ah, baby, youâre unreal, fuck.
You can see the exact moment he starts to reach his high, the way he sucks in air, the way he lifts his chin, starts to thrust a little harder, a little faster, chasing that thread of pleasure thatâs spiralling through him, and you urge him on. You lift your hips and clench so tight it has him gasping, hips stuttering, and you press your nose against his jaw, saying give it to me give it to me give it to me, wanting him to feel the same pleasure heâs given you.Â
When he pulls out, youâre too busy moving to pay attention to how empty you feel, settling between his legs and swallowing down his shining cock almost desperately. Thereâs no coconut. You can only taste yourself and when you lave your tongue across his slit itâs all Taehyung-Taehyung-Taehyung, hot and salt and bitter; he gasps and his hips jump and you take it all, lowering your head as far as you can, the head of his cock at the back of your throat before you pull up, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein at the underside, messy and wet. You drink down the wetness of his cock, your own arousal, mixed with his, the precum that beads at his head, staring up at him, your hands sliding over the sheen of his stomach, his thighs, cupping his balls, everything slick with oil and sweat.
âOh, God.â Taehyungâs eyes are blown and his hair is a mess and his mouth is wide open as he pants for air, watching. âBaby, baby, Iâm gonna cum, Iâm gonna cum.â
You suck hard, dragging your lips up from the base of the cock to the rounded tip, swirling your tongue, bobbing your head fasterâ
âOh, fuckââ
âand you swallow down each wave of cum, swallow down the way his cock twitches as he spills the evidence of pleasure into your mouth, swallow down the lovely noises that shudder out of him, watching him the whole time, never wanting to look away.
When you take your mouth off his softening cock, you draw a line of kisses with your mouth, up the soft skin of his body, stomach to chest to neck to mouth. He licks the taste of coconut oil off your lips, the taste of himself off your tongue; you curl up in his lap, settled against him, the apartmentâs cool air even sharper against your skin, magnified by the oil that still lingers.
(Even without the oil painted across him, Taehyung would still shine, even under the weak light from the cheap lightbulb that hangs above you.)
You feel soft and warm and small in the circle of Taehyungâs arms, pulled close, and you can hear the words in his chest as he speaks, a resonance that touches against your skin.
ââM sorry,â he murmurs.Â
You pause.
âBaby, love, darling.â The endearments are sugar sweet in your mouth, soft against his skin before you pull back to look at him, confused, concerned. âSorry for what?â
âI reallyâI really was just planning to do a massage, but youâre soâŠâÂ
You let out a slip of laughter. The room smells of coconut and sex, but when you lay your head against Taehyungâs collarbone all you can smell is the light tinge of his sweat. You breathe in, deep, like you can hold onto that ephemeral part of him. âOh, Tae. Iâm so what?â
âYouâre so good,â he says. âSo good and kind and lovely andâand so beautiful. I was going to do the massage to make you happy and then⊠tell you. About how happy you make me.â
You burrow your head into the hollow of his neck, the way he does to you, shy. âIâm not as beautiful as you,â you reply. âTae, you are literally the most beautiful person alive, andâGod, Iâve. Iâve been. So head over heels for you.â
Thereâs a pause. âReally?â
When you pull back to fix Taehyung with all the surprise in your gaze, you can see that heâs surprised, too. His hair hangs into his eyes, and he looks a little unsure, like he believes you, but finds it impossible to fathom.
You leave massage oil on his cheeks when you cup his face in your hands, staring at him with wide eyes. âKim Taehyung, I have had daily breakdowns about the intensity of my love for you to Pickles ever since we got him. Youâre the first person I think about each morningâusually because we wake each other upâand the last thing I think about at nightâwell, usually because you end up climbing into my bed more often than not, but, it still counts,â you say. Youâre both tangled together in so many ways already. âYouâve had my heart for a long time, you know. I just never thought I had a chance?â
When Taehyung kisses you, itâs brief, a hard press of his lips before he rests his forehead against yours. âYou really, really have no idea how perfect you are,â he murmurs. âIâve wantedâI want to do everything for you to show you how grateful I am for everything you do for me.â
âYou donât have to,â you protest, but he just smiles.
âI donât have to, but I want to,â he says. âLike you donât have to look after me, but you do.â
âThatâs because I love you,â you say. âLike, capital L love you.â
Youâve been so afraid of confessing, so convinced that it was an unattainable dream; that Kim Taehyung would never, could never, has never seen you as more than a friend. But the way heâs looking at you now, the way heâs touched you, the way your body still echoes with the feeling of him inside you: youâre not scared, any more. You donât need to be.
Taehyungâs eyes are so dark and warm when he replies, easy and effortless. âI love you, too.â
Your relationship has always been a give and take, is the thing. When you climb in the shower together, he washes the oil from your back while you massage shampoo into his scalp, laughing when he makes devil horns in his hair. He catches you by surprise when he presses you against the tiles, swallowing your moans when he coaxes one final orgasm from your tired body, rubbing tight circles over your clit as you buck against his hand and water cascades over you both. His cock hardens in your hands, sliding between your legs when you press them together, tight-tight-tight, his length rubbing against your cunt as he fucks your thighs until heâs moaning and shaking and cumming again.
(The waterâs cold by the time you finally climb out, but thatâs okay. You giggle and kiss as you dry yourselves, each other, excuses to keep touching and feeling, driven by affection, not lust.)
When youâre both clean, and dry, Taehyungâs leg thrown over your hip as he tugs you in, flush with his body under the covers, you press your lips against the line of his jaw.
âTaehyung?â
âYes, angel?â
You smile and hunch up even closer to him, scrunching yourself up as small as you can to plaster yourself against his side. âThank you for the wonderful massage. Definitely the best massage Iâve ever been given, ten out of ten, would do again.â
Taehyung laughs, pressing his rectangular smile into the kiss he lays against your lips, and you think that nothing tastes better than the happiness curling his mouth.
âLove you,â he murmurs. Always romantic. âI love you love you love you.â
âTae-honey-hyung.â And it feels so nice to not have to filter your words, to bite back that second layer of meaning, to try and keep things platonic and chaste when you speak. âI love you.â
And it feels so nice to have your Taehyung beside you, your body still aching with the press of him inside you, a good ache, a nice ache. A physical ache from good love, rather than a heartache from a love you didnât think was reciprocated. But it is, somehow, each of you so bowled over by each other.
--
(âHey, Pickles.â
The bearded dragon looks up at you, placid as he lounges in his tank.
âWell, youâll be happy to hear that you wonât have to put up with me ranting at you any more,â you say. âTaehyung did break out the massage oil but itâs all good. I didnât spontaneously combust or anything, like I thought I would.â
Picklesâ tongue flicks out as he shifts, and you smile.
âOkay, thatâs it, Iâm done,â you finish. âThanks, Pickles. Youâre a real pal.â
Taehyung nuzzles into your neck. His arms are a tight circle around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he looks down at the reptile, too. Heâs warm and solid against your back, and you lean into him, happiness tingling through you.
âI wonder how much longer we would have taken if you didnât get that coupon for a massage therapy course,â you muse, and Taehyung chuckles, warm and lovely.
âWe would have gotten there eventually. And we would have had each other until we did, anyway. Right, angel?â
Pickles stays quiet as you both kiss, but you can tell he approves.)
--
taglist: @beyoncesdragonâ
#magicshopnet#btswritingcafe#taehyung smut#taehyung oneshot#taehyung x reader#bts#bts smut#v smut#v oneshot#v x reader#taehyung#taehyung fluff#bts oneshot#kim taehyung#taehyung imagine#taehyung scenario#bts fic#bts fanfic#joy.masterlist
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
†made-up love song iii.
Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesnât go so well, nor your second, or your third⊠and maybe thatâs because it shouldnât work on paper. Youâre an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and youâre unable to remember the last time you dated. Heâs the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail â heâs a multimillionaire.Â
Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into placeâŠ
pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, lots of lasagne talk, flirting, kissing, fluffÂ đ„° words; 9,340
âȘïž chapter index
chapters; i ⹠ii ⹠iii ⹠iv ⹠v ⹠vi ⹠vii ⹠viii ⹠ix ⹠x ⹠epilogue (+ drabbles)
After you had time to calm down, of course you ended up telling Soojung about what happened on the date. You kept some things to yourself, mainly about how giddy you had felt throughout the whole thing, but you were sure she could see that for herself â she kept looking at you knowingly, and for once she kept the teasing down to a minimum. You ended up staying awake quite late, Soojung opening a bottle of wine. You were still excited from the date and the thought of what was to come next, but somewhere along the line, you and your best friend started getting into your feelings. (Was it really a Saturday night until you and Soojung ended it with slightly drunk sappy heart to hearts and hugs? Obviously notâŠ)Â
For the first time in a while you felt comfortable enough to open up about your love life (or lack of one) and felt it easy to talk about the past and to even bring up Donghae. He was a forbidden topic for the most part, no matter how much you were over him, but tonight had changed something. You didnât know how to explain it, and no, it wasnât because Seokjin was somehow the man of your dreams who had magically made things better with just one date. That was dumb and only happened in clichĂ© Hallmark movies.Â
No, it was because tonight had shown you that life goes on. No matter what rock bottom you hit, or how long it took you to get over it, no hurt was forever. Youâd been single for a long time, and happy at that â after youâd gotten over the heartbreak of Donghae cheating on you â but tonight youâd had fun. Youâd enjoyed yourself, enjoyed Seokjinâs company. You didnât know what would come of your second date, or if there would be a third, but you were okay with that. You were just living in the moment, and right now you really liked that infuriating-not-so-infuriating bastard.Â
You were taking a chance, just like he was, and it was actually pretty excitingâŠ
.
.
You woke up late the next morning, something you didnât reprimand yourself for because it was summer break after all, but also, you had a raging wine headache that had needed all the shut eye it could get. Your head was still throbbing slightly as you reached for your phone on the bedside table but seeing a text from Seokjin waiting for you made it miraculously disappear.Â
Seokjin (10:28am) Hi Y/N, Thank you for such a great time last night. I canât wait until Saturday. Would it be alright with you if I kept in touch throughout the week? Seokjin
You giggled to yourself at his insane formalities. Why was that so adorable? But most importantly how could he be both cute and sexy at the same time? He was hellbent on making you lose your mind. You thought about teasing him, asking him when heâd grown comfortable enough to drop the Regards from yesterday, but despite how well last night had gone, and despite how much you loved joking around with him in person, over the phone seemed different. You were still a little nervous â giddy nervous, but nervous, nevertheless. Your conversation from last night with Soojung came back to you, reminding you that this was all too real. You were potentially catching feelings for this man, and it was new, and exciting, but equal parts terrifying now that youâd woken up with a hangover.Â
Everything you typed out in reply seemed way too stiff, so growing frustrated, you settled on an emoji to cut through the formalities.Â
You (10:49am) I had such a lovely time too, Seokjin. Of course itâs fine to keep in touch. Iâm looking forward to Saturday night! đ
What did he mean exactly about keeping in touch?, you wondered as you got out of bed, padding your way down the stairs and into the kitchen for a much needed glass of ice cold water. A good morning text? A how are you? You knew he was busy with work all week, so you werenât expecting too much, but just knowing he wanted to stay in contact until next Saturday made you smile to yourself as you waited for his response.Â
You didnât have to wait long.Â
Seokjin (10:55am) Great! Iâm so excited to try your World famous Italian lasagne đ
Cute. Heâd followed your lead, ditching the last of the formalities and even signing off with an emoji instead. You instantly felt more at ease, but âÂ
Oh no.Â
Why did he have to bring that up and remind you of your humiliating blunder? You knew what would be taking up all of your time for the few days â you needed to perfect this goddamn dish.Â
Soojung on the other hand was unbothered by your predicament. Mind in the gutter as always. âDo you think thatâs a euphemism for something else?â She asked straight away once youâd shown her your messages a few hours later.Â
âSoojung!â You exclaimed, feeling yourself get a little hot in the face. You wish sheâd stop bringing up sex, it was stressing you out. You told her as much.Â
âYouâre the one whoâs invited him to your house for a second date.âÂ
You stared at her, greatly unimpressed. âYou know why I invited him here.âÂ
Youâd told her last night. Youâd been hit with a surge of confidence when youâd suggested it was your turn to decide on something. In truth though, you didnât know the first thing about restaurants, you hardly ever ate out, and when you did it was either fast food or at the food court in the department store Soojung worked at. You knew he wouldnât have minded any choice youâd made, but that didnât stop the slight apprehension you felt.Â
It was normal, given your difference in lifestyles, and whilst that seemed to be no issue thankfully, that difference was still there. However really, thatâs why youâd chosen to cook for him. Seokjin had shown you something close to him last night â the restaurant he owned with his brother, and now you were to show him something close to your heart. Something that was you. You loved cooking and baking in your spare time and you wanted to share that with him however small. Granted it was things you were confident with, but lasagne couldnât be that hard, right? A true perfectionist, youâd master it quickly enoughâŠ
Soojung rolled her eyes. âIâm sure you could suggest McDonaldâs and Dilf would be insanely happy.â She nudged you, squealing like a kid. âHeâs just so into you!â
You wouldnât bite. She was making you nervous again. âStop calling him Dilf, he has a name.â
âGeez, sorry.â She held up her hands in apology. âDidnât mean to offend your man.âÂ
You pushed her shoulder, silently telling her to quit it.
For the next few days it became your lifeâs goal to master the art of lasagne. Sunday night was spent googling recipes, trying to find the most authentic one. There seemed to be a lot of fuss on the right type of pasta. Flat edged would be fine, but the wavy edge was best. You made note of that. Next was the sauce. Two types. The tomato based one and then the white one â which you learned was called Bechamel. That seemed pretty easy to cook up, but the former seemed a little daunting. Every time youâd had pasta sauce in the past it had been premade, starting from scratch was giving you anxiety. Seokjin thought this was your expertise so you had to make it believable. What if you made it too salty? Too bland?
âŠPossibly you were thinking way too hard about this. Soojung thought the same.Â
âJust buy it in a jar, Y/N, for Christâs sake. Youâre taking this way too seriously. You donât need to learn fluent Italian to make your little white lie believable. Itâs a goddamn lasagne.âÂ
She had a point.Â
âHeâd be happy with a sandwich. Heâs coming over for you, not the shitty lasagne.âÂ
âDonât call my non-existent lasagne shitty, youâre setting me up for failure.â You grumbled, looking at the ten tabs you had up on your laptop screen, all claiming to be the best most authentic recipe around. Â
On Monday you went shopping for ingredients. You knew a small world foods store that was just outside of town, youâd been there a couple of times when youâd been baking with the children for class. With help from signposted aisles, you found what you were looking for in no time at all, so that night, you and Soojung both tucked into your first (sort of) homemade lasagne. Only the Bechamel sauces was harder to master than youâd first thought.Â
âI think you added too much flour.â Soojungâs nose wrinkled as she spoke. âItâs nice, donât get me wrong, but the white stuff⊠I donât know, maybe itâs supposed to taste like that?âÂ
Nope, she was definitely correct, too much flour, which was odd because you were pretty positive youâd followed the right measurementsâŠÂ
Tuesday you had a day off from the sight, and even the word lasagne. You met for coffee with your mom but kept the date with Seokjin a secret. Not that she pressed about your love life anymore, sheâd long given up on that topic. It was nice to catch up and you made plans for a trip soon. It was hard to find time to visit her when you were in work so you were always thankful for the summer and Christmas breaks. You were her only child, so it made your time together even more precious. Sheâd only remarried ten years ago, and while Jonathon had kids from his first marriage, they lived abroad. They were older than you and had families of their own. You werenât particularly close for no other reason than the distance. Youâd only met them a few times but they were lovely people. Your father had remarried while you were still in high school, having two more children (a son and daughter) with his wife. You were very close to them despite the age gap and saw them as regularly as you could. Your extended family had long been the norm and you wouldnât change it for the world.Â
Wednesday you were back on the lasagne. You purchased more pasta sauce and decided on the pre-made Bechamel sauce too, just to be safe. This time around everything went smoothly, Soojung had no complaints and neither did you, but you still invited Taehyung around on Thursday for a third go. He was way more enthusiastic than your best friend, singing your praises all night.Â
âY/N, that was amazing!â He exclaimed, leaning back in his chair to pat his belly. âDilf dick â Uh, I mean, Seokjin, is going to love it.âÂ
âGuys, is that what you really call him when youâre alone together?â You whined.Â
âBlame Soo,â Taehyung shrugged. âSheâs rubbed off on me. But, Iâm right,â he smirked. âHeâs going to want to give you his DD once he tastes this, if you know what I mean.âÂ
Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, you looked on unimpressed. Maybe if you gave them no reaction theyâd stop?Â
âOooo. I wonder what his dick even looks like. I bet itâs as handsome as his face.â Soojung squealed, sat beside her boyfriend.Â
âSOOJUNG!â He cried, mouth open in disbelief.Â
âCan we just stop talking about his⊠yâknowâŠâ You sighed, unable to say the word aloud. âImagine if it was the other way around and he was wondering about what I looked like naked.â Soojung wouldnât be impressed, that was for sure.Â
âFine, youâre right,â your best friend sighed. âIâm just way too excited because you finally like someone!!â She was getting loud now, she always did when she was excited. âAnd I want it to work out because you deserve it!âÂ
You chuckled. âSoo, calm down.â But you had to admit her words were sweet. You reached for her hand across the tiny table, giving it a gentle squeeze of thanks.Â
âWhat about Barman dick?â Taehyung asked randomly, totally oblivious that you and she were having a moment. âHuh? Soo? You want my Barman dick tonight?â He wiggled his eyebrows again, a playfulness to his voice as he nudged her.Â
She giggled but wasnât having any of it. âIt doesnât really have the same ring to it, babe.âÂ
Highly offended he pulled away, pursing his lips. âWhatever.â
âOkay guys, letâs not have a domestic at the dining table.â You laughed. Which was a mistake because now Taehyungâs attention was back on you.Â
âSo, Y/N, when are you going to invite Mr. Dilf to my bar?â
You sniggered. âHow about never?â
âHey, you ladies are being very mean tonight. I complimented your lasagne.â Hm. That was true, you guessed. âWhatâs wrong with my bar? I think heâd love it. What does he drink? I see him as a dark rum type of guy.âÂ
You shrugged. âHe was drinking red wine on our date last week.â It still made you feel funny to say the word date. Youâd gone on a date. You were dating. A flurry of excitement found its way to your stomach, your excitement for Saturday growing.Â
âInteresting,â Taehyung mused.
Soojung stood up, starting to collect your plates. âOkay, Iâm washing, whoâs drying?â
âNot me,â you sang. âIâve cooked nearly every night this week.âÂ
Soojung eyes were wide when you met them, as if she was silently begging you. For what? âJust please promise me there wonât be any lasagne waiting for me after work tomorrow night? Iâm going to turn into one at this rate.âÂ
Saturday arrived soon enough. You woke up the same time your phone went Bing and you knew exactly who it was. Seokjin had been texting you Good morning every day since Monday. He was no longer signing them off with his name, which was progress, and he was even adding more emojis, so you guessed you had rubbed off on him.Â
Sometimes heâd drop a meme with the greeting. They were mostly to do with early mornings and workloads to which youâd tease him about because it was your summer vacation after all, you didnât need to worry about work. But you always sent a Hope today runs smoothly his way too. You didnât want to rub it in too much.Â
Yesterdayâs meme had been about dating, something about the guy trying to flirt but being garbage at it and asking if she liked cheese. You didnât agree that was like Seokjin though â you were gradually learning that he was incredibly modest â but it had made you laugh. Only Seokjin could send you lame memes and youâd find it adorable⊠You were possibly whipped.Â
Seokjin (8:01am)Â Good morning. [Image sent]Â
Today the meme was about lasagne, which made you question whether he was googling these every morning because no way had a lasagne meme popped up on his social media â if he used any at all. The realisation that he was searching for memes every day was even more endearing and your heart got a little gooey. You read the text on top of the image of lasagne. Dude, is that your new white shirt? Lemme just hop off this fork for a closer look. You genuinely laughed at that one, still wrapped up in your bed sheets. So incredibly lame, but equal levels funny.Â
Seokjin (8:01am) I will not be wearing white⊠I canât wait to see you later. Just a reminder that I hope you omitted the garlic for tonightâs meal. I donât want to embarrass myself by itching all night đ
đ
Immediately the smile dropped from your face and you shot forward, horror washing over you. Oh no. He was allergic to garlic. With the stress of perfecting the worldâs best lasagne youâd totally forgotten. What were you going to do? Find a plain tomato sauce? Where the hell were you going to find one? Was that even a thing? You needed to leave now. Jumping out of bed you almost forgot to message Seokjin back. Looking at your phone again the image of the lasagne mocked youâŠÂ
.
.
Two hours later you were back at home, in need of a sit down after youâd rushed around town looking for a pasta sauce that didnât contain garlic (very hard, by the way.) The stress had aged you about ten years. Soojung of course found it highly hilarious.Â
âYouâd have been in ER before 9pm,â she chortled, still in her pyjamas on the couch. Sheâd been still asleep when youâd dashed off, a woman on a lasagne mission.Â
You ignored her. It wouldnât have been that bad, right? He said himself heâd only be itching⊠Clawing off his own skin was probably better than his throat closing up⊠maybeâŠÂ
âHow did you manage to forget?â She was still laughing. âAND you said youâd make a lasagne. Italian food always uses garlic. He must think youâre trying to kill him.â At this point you could hardly understand her, words blurring into one as she lost her shit.Â
âWe went over this. I wasnât in my right mind when I said Iâd cook lasagne.â
She stopped her laugher immediately.  âNo way, youâre not blaming me again.âÂ
âUgh.â You sighed, suddenly remembering something. âI was going to make my homemade garlic bread.â Now that was a speciality of yours. This night was going to be a disaster.
âSkip the garlic,â Soojung suggested.Â
âSo, just bread then.âÂ
She tried her best not to laugh again, not wanting to make it worse. âYum.âÂ
It didnât help.Â
What did help though, was making her clean the entirety of the downstairs of the house. As the day went on you started to get more and more nervous, which was silly, but you couldnât help it. You realised that your place was a shoe box in comparison to his, what the hell were you thinking when youâd invited him here?! It needed to be spotless, to distract him from the fact you would be eating dinner in the same place you would be cooking itâŠÂ
You knew there was no need to worry, it was just like last week when youâd grown self-conscious only to be fine once youâd set eyes on Seokjin. No doubt tonight would be just the same, he didnât give a crap about stuff like that, so why would you even think he would? Heâd probably be hurt if he knew⊠You just couldnât help those little bubbles of insecurities from floating around inside your brain. You were a law unto yourself, and the garlic-less lasagne wasnât helping. Youâd had no time to prep for it. What if it tasted like cardboard?Â
âLasagne is lasagne,â Soojung reassured you, in the kitchen as you got all the ingredients together. âItâs not going to taste gross just because thereâs no garlic in it. Put it this way, at least you can kiss without needing to pop a mint.âÂ
You whined, shaking your head, you couldnât even dare thinking about kissing him right now. Youâd spontaneously combust from anxiety.Â
âShould we clean your room too?â She asked, picking up the jar of pasta sauce absentmindedly. Youâd already read the label approximately fifteen times, double checking it was indeed garlic-less.Â
âWhat? No,â you told her, voice all high-pitched. There would be no going upstairs besides from bathroom usage. âBut hey,â you exclaimed, rounding on her with the spoon you were holding in your hand. âMy room is always clean, bitch.â
She was the messy one.
.
.
Soojung left for Taehyungâs place at half 6, ready for Seokjinâs arrival at 7pm, a hug for good luck before you waved her off. Youâd calmed greatly now, nothing like some table laying to ease some nerves. The lasagne was prepped and ready to oven cook, you had a fresh key lime pie in the fridge and you were dressed and presentable with ten minutes to spare. Wonderful.Â
The doorbell rung not long after youâd made your way downstairs and you were quickly finding out that Seokjin was a very punctual man. Opening the door to reveal him stood at the porch your heart instantly warmed, skipping a beat when he gave you a dazzling smile and a soft Hey. You felt a little weak at the knees. Nope, you were not ready for tonight.Â
In your tiny entryway he offered you a silver gift bag. âI didnât know what to bring, so.â He said with a shrug as you pulled out a bottle of red wine.Â
âOh, thank you, Seokjin.â You hadnât been expecting him to bring anything at all. It was a lovely surprise.Â
âYou probably have some waiting already. Iâm sorry.â
âNo, no, itâs fine,â you reassured him. âWeâll use this one.â You were going to use a bottle of white wine you had laying around, nothing special at all. Red wine seemed better, fancier, maybe it would go better with the lasagne?
âAre you sure?â He asked. âI was gonna get you flowers but I didnât want to freak you out or anything.â
You laughed. What was he going on about? âWhy would that freak me out?â
His smile was crooked as he chuckled quietly. âI donât know. Iâm new to this, I thought they wouldâve been too forward.âÂ
You gave a small shrug, voice barely there when you replied. âI like flowers.â
He gazed at you, warm eyes softening as he stepped forward. âNext time.â He smiled. âNext time Iâll get you flowers.âÂ
You swallowed fairly loudly, averting your gaze as you outstretched your arms. âLet me take you coat.â Was it hot in here? You felt a little stuffy.Â
He shrugged off the beige wool blend, revealing the tight fitting black shirt he had on underneath. It stretched over his shoulders, accentuating how broad they were, how hard his chest was and how much his waist curved inwards. The pants he was wearing didnât help matters too. He looked effortlessly gorgeous, hair parted to the side, a piece curled above his left eye, softening the blow of his exposed forehead. You moved to hook his coat on the rack, realising you couldâve been gawping. Not that you could help it, the man was trying to kill you.
As you turned to face him again, he smiled. âYou look really nice.â His voice was soft which just made it even more dangerous. âI think this may be the first time Iâve seen you in pants.âÂ
âReally?â You wondered. You were partial to a dress in the summer, so he was probably right. Youâd chosen a pair of black skinny jeans and a patterned chiffon blouse. Nothing too fancy, but he looked at you with awe-filled eyes. Unless you were imagining it. You cleared your throat. âYou look good too.â
He stepped back, arms outstretched as he looked down at himself. âThanks. No white.â He chuckled.Â
You forced yourself to laugh too, nerves creeping back just because of your stupid damn lasagne. âNo white.âÂ
Moving forward again he took your hand. It was warm and soft, just as you remembered from last week. Who cared about the lasagne when you were this close to him? When he was looking down at you with those brown, twinkly eyes? Not you anymore.Â
âIâve been looking forward to this all week, Y/N.âÂ
Oh.
.
.
You invited him inside the living room first, pouring him a small (and his only because he the car) glass of wine as you chit chatted for a few minutes. Sat next to him was RJ, who youâd taken from your bedroom to join you both for the night. He wanted to say Hi, had been your opening line and Seokjin had found it hilarious, cracking up instantly. Although his âI missed you buddy, how have you been?â went rudely ignored. Maybe the alpaca was nervousâŠÂ
Ever the gentleman, he complimented you on the house, noting the dĂ©cor with a fond eye. That surprised you, maybe he had played a part with the interior of his home. Well, youâd only seen the cosy family room â but it suited him very well. You knew there had been no need to be nervous when it came to inviting him into your home. There wasnât a judging bone in Seokjinâs body.Â
You talked about your weeks, yours had been fine, but of course you left out all the stress over the lasagne. Seokjinâs week on the other hand had been quite demanding, but that was nothing new he told you with an accepting shake of his hand. He was used to it by now, but he had to admit tonightâs date had made it easier this time around. He was full of the charm, not that you were complainingâŠ
Misook was babysitting Arin tonight, he told you when you asked how she was. It was his weekend this week, he and Nana took it in turns â when she didnât cancel, he added as an afterthought â but he seemed a lot more relaxed talking about his ex-wife this time around seeing as last weekend she hadnât broken any promises. He was happy if his daughter was happy, and that made you smile. You remembered Arinâs sorrowful face that day her mom had cancelled on her, so you were glad theyâd found time to spend time together. You also remembered how irritated Seokjin had sounded when he was opening up to you on the bench at the school fate⊠You wondered just how often Nana cancelled plans, and couldnât imagine how frustrating that was for both Arin and Seokjin⊠You hoped this marked the start of things being easier for them now.Â
Soon after that, you served him your starter (âgarlic â wait, no I mean, no-garlic bread.â), and you chatted some more over that and while the lasagne baked. It was surprising how little youâd touched the sides on your first date, so tonight you covered even more bases. Family mainly. You told him about your half and step siblings, your parentsâ remarriages of course coming up too. He seemed interested in that, wondering about your views on it and if it had affected you as you grew up. As a divorcee you understood the relevance to him and because he was so easy to talk to you found yourself opening up freely.Â
His parents were still married and Seokjin was the youngest out of their two sons, so it was quite unheard of for the second born to take over a family company. In fact, it was the first of its kind for his, which made it even harder for him. His older brother had been the rightful heir to LG Electronics but his passion had always been in culinary arts. His parents had been kind enough to let him follow his dreams, and thankfully, for Seokjin, that meant he could follow in his fatherâs footsteps. Heâd been eager to prove himself but it had been hard in the beginning. His status as the youngest son meant that a lot of people set him up for failure, but with his familyâs love and belief heâd managed to succeed and confirm himself as the rightful CEO. You didnât doubt it. It seemed heâd worked hard to get where he was now. That was admirable.Â
The influx of information was so interesting to you and it didnât feel real. While you could imagine Seokjin taking charge, visualising him in that tailored houndstooth suit heâd worn when youâd first met him, it was strange to think the smiley and soft-spoken man sat in front of you was from a long line of power and wealth. He should be untouchable, yet here you were able to reach for his hand across the table. Able to feel his forefinger stroking delicate patterns into your palm as you opened up and got to know one another more and moreâŠÂ
âSo, if your familyâs a big deal, what about things like arranged marriages? Are they still a thing?â You asked, maybe confusing fiction for fact.Â
Seokjin laughed at your wording. âThey used to be, not so much anymore. I met my ex-wife through a friend. They concentrate less on things like that these days.â He shrugged, adding as an afterthought, âAs a divorced CEO I think Iâm a great example of that.âÂ
That was true, you thought to yourself, wondering how the breakdown of his marriage had also played a part in the stress of his early years as CEO.Â
âI know it all sounds pretty crazy, but I like to think my family is just like anyone elseâs.â He continued, smiling bashfully when you met his gaze. âThat Iâm just like anyone else.âÂ
You wondered how many people had immediately judged him because of his status⊠Youâd been one of them, right? Even if you hadnât known any of the details, youâd written him off as some obnoxious, rich guy who flaunted his wealth⊠You felt guilty thinking back. He was the complete opposite.
You nodded in agreement before grinning. âIâd have liked to see what college Seokjin was like.âÂ
âA complete nerd, to tell you the truth.âÂ
He answered so seriously, you didnât know how to react, and then he was laughing loudly, cracking up at himself. You couldnât help but join in. Thatâs when your stove alarm went off, shrill and incessant, signalling the arrival of the dreaded lasagneâŠ
It turned out he loved it though.Â
âThis is amazing,â Seokjin praised, mouth still half full as he chewed. You did have to admit it was good. It tasted just like the original, despite the lack of garlic. Seokjin quirked an eyebrow, smirking your way. âSo, how lucky am I to be able to try this World famous Italian lasagne?âÂ
âVery lucky.â You kept your answer short. Hoping heâd just drop it.Â
He didnât.Â
âHow lucky?â He tried to pry from you. âHow many people have tried it?âÂ
You gave him a small smile, hovering your fork over the plate. Technically he was the third, but you couldnât tell him that, could you? âI canât disclose that.âÂ
He emitted a short laugh. âWhat about the recipe? Care to share?âÂ
You brushed him off with a soft chuckle. âA chef never tells her secrets.â
âNot even me?â His bottom lip jutted out as he looked across at you.Â
Your heart did a little dance. He was being unfair. âDonât pout like that, itâs making me feel guilty.âÂ
Thankfully the lasagne topic fizzled out after a couple more minutes, your cold sweat having time to dissipate while you chatted and ate together comfortably. However a few minutes later you noticed Seokjin fidgeting slightly in his seat. You politely ignored it to begin with, unsure if you were just imagining it, but then he started itching the back of his neck. You put your fork down, a sick feeling washing over you. âIs anything wrong?â You asked, now watching him itch up his forearm. âSeokjin?â
He looked at you in mild confusion, eyebrows creasing together as he opened his mouth. âAre you sure there wasnât any garlic in this?âÂ
You swallowed away the panic racing up your throat. âIâm sure.â Youâd read the back of that jar and then read it some more. âIâm positive.âÂ
⊠Werenât you? You watched him scoot his chair back, leaning down to start scratching the back of his calves. He made noises of discomfort as he did so.Â
âOh, noâŠâ You were up before you could stop yourself, racing around him to start hunting in the recycling for the glass jar.Â
âWait, where are you going?âÂ
You could hear Seokjinâs voice behind you, sounding alarmed, but you were too panicked to really take it in. You needed to be sure. This was just your second date, you couldnât ruin things already. Turning him into one giant itchy red blob had not been your intention. Â
âI was only teasing you.â Still, his words didnât sink in. That was until you felt a hand on your elbow, tugging gently for your attention.Â
You spun around, worried eyes wide â even wider when you found him so close. He was on his feet too, bent a little to level with you, pretty much within kissing distance. His voice was soft when he spoke, you found yourself distracted by his mouth. âY/N, I was just messing around.â
You blinked, not truly understanding with all those annoying distractions zooming around your mind, but slowly you pieced his words together. Oh. Despite the relief you felt, now you just felt silly. Plus, he was still so close to youâŠÂ
You took a step back, the small of your back pressing up against the counter. You needed a clear head. âDonât freak me out like that.â You told him, but you still sighed in relief, hand against your chest. âI thought Iâd poisoned you.âÂ
He looked a little concerned, but you could tell by his eyes he found your reaction amusing. âIâm sorry,â he apologised. âI just wanted to make you laugh.â
âMake me laugh? You nearly gave me heart failure.â However, you gave him what he wanted, a laugh that sounded weak and shaky, but it was something â you did see the funny side.Â
He joined you, shoulders relaxing now that he knew you were okay. He looked behind you, eyes on the trashcan, a bemused smile on his face. âWhat were you looking for anyway?â
âThe jar.â You answered, as if it wasnât obvious. You turned, deciding to fish it out anyway. Holding it up to him, you were adamant. âSee, no garlic. Check.âÂ
He chuckled. âI already said I was joking.â He took one look at your desperate expression and gave in, taking the jar from your hand. âBut if it makes you feel betterâŠâ You watched him as he read the label, silently soaking in his handsome features. He looked softer tonight, the curve of his jaw rounding as he smiled. It took you a moment to realise he was done. He handed the jar back to you, and you prayed to God he hadnât caught you staring at him all gooey-eyed. âItâs fine.â He confirmed. âIâll be itch free tonight.âÂ
You smiled and plopped the glass back inside the can. âI looked around town for hour trying to find lasagne sauce sans garlic.âÂ
He looked guilty. âIâm sorry for being awkward.â Then he paused, eyes narrowing, the hint of a smirk itching at the corners of his mouth. âBut⊠Y/N, are you a fraud?â Huh? What did he mean? You didnât need to wait long for an explanation. âI thought a certified chef would cook up a batch of her own tomato sauce.â
Oh. Youâd gone and put your foot in it, hadnât you? It was probably time to explain yourself⊠âI have a confession,â you began, sounding wary. Seokjin looked interested albeit it mildly confused. âI⊠may have told a little white lie.â
He shook his head, a puff of laughter leaving him. âYouâve lost me.âÂ
You took a deep breath, knowing you were going to have to spell it out for him. âIâve never made lasagne before. Ever. In my entire life.âÂ
He looked confused as silence spread out between you. He sounded it too when he spoke again. âThen why did you say it was your speciality?â
You groaned, dropping your face into your hands for one dramatic moment. âI panicked.â Peeking at him, you babbled on. âI know it sounds stupid but Soojung was curtain twitching and it was stressing me out and then you were asking me what I cooked and lasagne just popped into my head!â
Seokjin blinked, his mouth twitched and then he was laughing â loudly.Â
âYou find it funny?â You asked, relaxing a tad.Â
âVery.â He laughed harder but seeing the look of bafflement on your face he tried is best to still it.Â
âIâve been practicing it like crazy,â you whined, happy you could finally tell him all about your lasagne struggles. âThis is my fourth time eating it this week. Soojung nearly killed me.â You snorted at the memory. This started up Seokjin again. âAnd then I forgot you were allergic to garlic. Your text reminded me this morning and I had to rush out to the grocery store.âÂ
He was weak at the knees at that, and you were laughing just because he was. It was contagious. âStop,â you wailed, attempting to get a hold of yourself. This week had actually been quite traumatic. âIâm glad you find it funny, Iâve been in constant stress ever since you drove off last week.âÂ
âI canât help it.â He chuckled, although he did sound apologetic. âYouâre just so adorable.â The air that settled around his effortless admission made your skin prickle. When he carried on, his tone was gentle. âYou know I wouldnât have minded if you changed the menu to something else, right?âÂ
You pouted ever so slightly. âBut you were looking forward to it.âÂ
He gave a small shrug. âTrue, but⊠that was more so code for âIâm looking forward to seeing you again.â The food was just a bonus. Iâd be happy with a Big Mac.âÂ
You felt your cheeks burn and you tried to shake yourself out of it. âSo embarrassing,â you murmured. You didnât know what for⊠The lasagne mess or the fact he could have this much of an effect of you? You were inclined to go with the latter.Â
âWhat about the no-garlic bread?â Seokjin asked, changing the subject a little. Maybe heâd sensed your embarrassment and didnât want to make it worse. He was sweet. âDid you make that?â
âYeah,â you nodded. âWell, I didnât bake the bread. I just toasted it.â It was still a speciality of yours though. âIt wouldâve been much tastier with the garlic.âÂ
He gave you an apologetic smile. âSorry about that. This body wants to turn me into a miserable old man.âÂ
Pfft. Old? Miserable? He was anything but.Â
âSit,â he prompted you, smiling as he motioned with his head to the table. âFinish your World famous Italian lasagne before it grows cold.âÂ
As you moved he delicately cupped his hand around the curve your waist, giving it a soft squeeze before he got to his chair first. Your stomach flipped, head dizzy as you sat and tucked your chair in. Last Saturday popped into your head, the way youâd loosely held hands outside and how you were sure heâd been leaning in to kiss you â properly.Â
You knew one thing. You really wanted to kiss him tonight.Â
Trying to get a hold of yourself, you glanced at him, catching his eyes. He was already tucking in again, and he grinned bashfully, as if embarrassed. âThis really is great. All that practice paid off.â A pause. âYou should show me how you cooked it sometime.âÂ
Your face lit up in surprise. âYou cook?â In the back of your mind you were aware that heâd probably been hinting for a third date, but you were so shocked by the possibly of Seokjin cooking you couldnât stop yourself from asking.Â
He chuckled quietly. âI mean, when I have time and can be bothered. I like cooking but itâs just easier to go to a restaurant or get it delivered.â He looked sheepish before adding, âOr Misook does it for me.âÂ
There was no shame when it came to that. Seokjin probably worked all hours of the day, no one could expect him to tie on an apron when he got home and start pulling out pots and pans.Â
âDo you cook a lot?â He asked.Â
You nodded. âSoojung and I take it in turns.âÂ
âSo what is your speciality?â He smiled.Â
This time around you were in your right mind and able to answer properly. âVeggie tacos.âÂ
He raised his eyebrows, impressed. Then he tried again. âCan you make them for me sometime?â
He was persistent, youâd give him that. You shrugged, trying your best to sound impassive but the little smirk gave it away. âMaybe if you say pleaseâŠâÂ
He laughed, leaning forward, a hand clasping yours as he tilted his head. The piece of curled hair falling into his left eye. âPlease?â
Your heart did another little dance inside your chest.Â
.
.Â
After dessert you both made your way back to the living room, settling on your couch with two pomegranate mocktails Taehyung had prepared for you yesterday. All you had to do was add the pomegranate juice and lemonade to the ice cubes and crushed lime segments and mint before serving, easy-peasy. Seokjin was highly impressed, but of course you couldnât take the credit. It was all down to your best friendâs very helpful barman boyfriend.Â
You were glad Seokjin wanted to stay as you didnât want the night to be over yet. It had flown by so fast and youâd had so much fun. You already felt like you knew him better, even after only two dates. It was strange to you, how you could feel so relaxed in a strangerâs company, but then again, you guessed he wasnât a stranger anymore⊠Plus, he was so easy to talk to, so interesting to get to knowâŠ. Everything between you two came easy.Â
Like opening up to him, being a bit more vulnerableâŠÂ
âIâve been slightly nervous all week,â you admitted, clutching your drink to you before chuckling softly. ââ and not just about the lasagne faux pasâŠâÂ
âThere was no need to be nervous. I thought we left all that behind on the first date,â Seokjin reassured, smiling warmly your way.Â
You were sat together, turned to face one another. It was intimate and cosy. He had one leg lifted, the ankle resting on the knee of the other leg, and where his pants had ridden up, you could see an inch or so of his calf before it met the black cotton of his sock. For some reason, you found that very, very sexy. Maybe you had been single for far too long.Â
âWe did,â you agreed, hesitating slightly. âItâs just⊠I havenât done anything like this in so long.âÂ
You didnât even think youâd ever invited someone around for dinner before. You were still quite young when you found yourself in a relationship with Donghae so your dates before him had been very basic. Your dates with him hadnât really classed as such just because you became official fairly quickly, and your dates after him, well, it was already known that they had been few and far between.Â
âYou already know weâre in the same boat,â he smiled before chuckling bashfully. âNo, but really, when I asked you for dinner that day at the fate I was expecting you to turn me down.âÂ
âHow come?â
He looked down at his drink, lifting a shoulder. âI thought youâd think that I was crossing a line⊠or maybe the spark I was feeling was all in my head and in reality you just found me really annoying.âÂ
That was cute. Heâd been doubting himself. Human after all. Not that youâd ever thought he wasnât. You still didnât miss the opportunity to joke around though. âI mean, both can exist simultaneously.â He taking a sip of his mocktail when you replied so he ended up snorting into his glass, amused by your wit.Â
A moment or so passed and Seokjin gazed at you, smiling softly. If he kept this up, youâd be a puddle on your parquet flooring. âSo, tell me,â he hummed. âHow did I luck out so good?â You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant. âHow come an amazing person like you isnât married or in a relationship?â
He mustâve seen the slight shock on your face and panicked instantly. âIs that a weird thing to ask? I feel like it is. I apologise.â
âNo,â you insisted, sitting up a little straighter. He followed. âNo, itâs not.â You wanted to open up to him. You really did. You just didnât know where to start. Although, it was pretty simple. âIâve been single for a while.âÂ
âHow long?â Seokjin was instantly focused, attentive, noticing the change in your body language.Â
âThree years. My last relationship didnât end very well.â You paused, wondering if you should continue. But then⊠It had been a massive part of your life. No matter how much time had passed and no matter how okay you were now, it had still happened. And Seokjin, he had trusted you enough to open up about his divorce â even before youâd gone on your first date. You wanted to talk about it. You really did.Â
âI found out my fiancĂ© was cheating on me.â Â
Seokjinâs eyes widened, unable to cloak his surprise. He hadnât been expecting that. âIâm sorry to hear that,â he said sincerely.Â
âItâs fine,â you smiled. âIt was rough getting over it. Took me a while, but it is what it is. Itâs in the past now.âÂ
âDid it put you off dating?âÂ
You were pleasantly surprised to find it was actually easy to talk to Seokjin about this. Your mouth was opening before you had to think about it. âI mean, at first. I was still very much in love with him, even after he broke my heart. But I got over him and I started dating again â briefly â It just didnât feel right.â You stopped to smile. âItâs been over a year and I canât say I missed it⊠but youâŠâ Nerves growing, you pushed them away. âYouâve changed that. Iâm having fun.âÂ
Seokjinâs face lit up and he chuckled. âI did hit second date status after all.âÂ
âYou didâŠâÂ
âSo,â he leaned closer, a small smirk on his face. âYou could say, hitting your car that day wasnât actually my fault because it was supposed to happen.âÂ
You snorted as you laughed, head falling against the back of the couch. âI wouldnât go that far.âÂ
He made a sound. âBut we wouldnât have met otherwise.âÂ
âWe would!â You exclaimed. âThe parent-teacher meeting.âÂ
He blinked, feeling dumb. âOh, yeah.âÂ
It wouldnât have had the same effect, granted, but you would have become acquainted with one another regardless. âWould you have still liked me?â You asked without thinking, surprising yourself.Â
âYes,â he replied immediately. âI was instantly attracted to you after all, itâs justâŠâ Instantly attracted? Definitely a charmer... âThere wouldâve been no way for me to get to know you like I did.â
You narrowed your eyes. âYouâre really adamant that you had to reverse into my car to make this work, huh.â
He shrugged casually. âIt was the only way.âÂ
You laughed quietly, finishing the last of your drink. Time was getting on, it was pretty late, Seokjin had already finished his, you watched him sit up to lean forward and place the glass on your coffee table. His shirt tightened across his shoulder blades and you could see his back muscles as he stretched. Oh. Â
Settling back into the same position, he looked over at you and grinned. His teeth were perfect. Did this man have zero flaws? Why were you so whipped? It was embarrassing.Â
âI had fun tonight,â you told him, trying to keep a lid on whatever was going on with you right now.Â
He seemed pleased with that, nodding his head. âIâm happy to hear that you think Iâm a fun person.âÂ
You scoffed, body falling closer to his. Your shoulders brushed together. Seokjin didnât take his eyes off you. âHm. I donât think I said that.âÂ
âHey, donât be so mean.â He murmured, one side of his mouth quirking up.Â
Like you couldnât stop yourself, your hand reached for the collar of shirt. He had the top two buttons loose and your pinkie finger brushed against his collarbone. Sparks flew, but you tried to ignore them. âI thought you liked it when I was mean.â You teased, voice low.Â
Seokjin hummed, his eyes still twinkled like they always did but there was something else to them, a depth that made you feel funny. He sunk closer to you. So close you could study the thick curve of his eyelashes, notice that both his eyelids were different. He really did have beautiful eyes. You could stare at them forever.Â
Preoccupied, you slowly realised that he was watching you too, studying your features in the golden glow of the floor lamp that hovered over the couch. His lips parted, you heard them rather than saw it, but then your attention was on them again. Just like it had been earlier on in the night. He was staring at yours too as he spoke. âI wanted to kiss you last week.âÂ
You heartbeat quickened but you tried to keep cool. âYou did kiss me.â You laughed.Â
He sighed. âOn the cheek.â Â
You lightly tugged his collar, fingertips now brushing the skin of his chest. âIsnât that what you said you wanted to do?â
You could feel his own heartbeat against your forearm that was pressed into him. It was definitely running a little faster than it was supposed to â stronger. âYes, butâŠâ He glanced up to your eyes. âI was just being polite. I wanted to kiss your lips.â
It felt like you were holding your breath. Maybe you were, you just couldnât think straight. Time seemed to stretch out, but you knew what you wanted. So you went after it. Giving him a small smile, you replied. âMaybe I wanted that too.âÂ
He swallowed, voice so low now it was barely a murmur. âIs that an invitation?â His eyes bounced to your lips again, then back to your eyes as he asked permission. âCan I kiss you?â
You ever so slightly dragged your bottom lip beneath your teeth as you nodded, breath catching in your throat as Seokjin leaned forward and closed the distance between you. The hand in between your bodies moved to delicately hold the wrist of your arm against his chest, holding you there as his other hand reached for your jaw, angling your face to press a kiss to your mouth. His eyes were already closed so you followed.Â
He hummed at the contact, his lips soft and warm and you let yourself sink. His actions were light at first, faint as he kept constant pressure, as if he was familiarising himself with the sensation. You couldnât even let yourself think about how this was the first kiss youâd shared with someone for a very long time. All that was going through your mind was how good it felt to be touched like this by him.Â
He readjusted the hand on your face, tucking some hair behind your ear to cup your cheek. You liked that. You liked it when he touched you, and he eased from your mouth completely before coming back with a firmer pressure. It was your turn to make a sound; a tiny gasp as your lips began to move together ever so slowly. He liked that, a hum of satisfaction vibrating against the soft skin of your lips. You clutched at his shirt, gathering the crisp cotton in your fist, that would surely turn it creased, but he didnât seem to mind. He was too preoccupied with reaching for the glass youâd forgotten was hugged to your body by your free hand.Â
He unclasped it from your fingers and had no choice but to break away from your mouth to put it next to his on the coffee table. You whined, attempting to tug him back to you, and he chuckled, taking a hold of one of your hands. âIâll be back,â he whispered, leaning forward to place the cocktail glass down.Â
And he was.Â
This time he used both of his hands to grasp your face and dive back in. He was more confident this time, moving in such a way his lips pried yours open. You reached for his shoulders, grasping them to hold him closer and this time you both made noises â sweet, quiet ones that worked beautiful together as your lips moulded with gradual urgency.Â
When your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers through his hair, he had to drag the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking entry. You met it with yours, tasting hints of pomegranate and lime with each wash of tongue. A hand of his slipped down to your side, stroking up and down the curve as if he couldnât help but to touch you. He settled at your hip after a moment, the other splayed against the side of your neck, his thumb rolling small circles under your cheekbone.Â
This was getting addictive. You could tell by the way you moaned softly against each warm, wet curl of his tongue. This was everything youâd imagined and more â because you had imagined it. Late and secretly at night when you were trying to drift off to sleep and thoughts of lasagne were banished⊠You were glad your first kiss was here, inside, on your couch, because this wasnât something for the open, your knees wouldnât have been able to hold you up.Â
You could have kissed him forever, you mean, you definitely didnât want it to stop but you pretty much had to. Breathing was a necessity, right? If you couldnât breathe you wouldnât be able to ever kiss Seokjin again and that would be absolutely awfulâŠÂ
You did it the right way though â gradually. Seokjin slowed it right down, only hints of his tongue left as he hummed indulgently, like he was savouring your taste before he had to inevitably pull away. It made your insides jump around like crazy, hearing him enjoying himself, and you tried your best to come to when he started easing the pressure of his lips, pressing small, chaste kisses to them instead as you ultimately (but slowly) broke apart.Â
You opened your eyes, blinking up at him, hands falling from his hair, aware you had become one with your cushions. You struggled to free yourself as he sat back and you watched him smile fondly at you. His breath was shaky â so was yours, and you were sure his hands trembled slightly as one reached up to scratch the back of his neck. His neck that was blotched with red, flushed, travelling to his cheeks. They were rosier than youâd ever seen them before. Your gut stirred.Â
âIâve been dreaming of that,â he told you, before making a face at himself. âToo cringey?âÂ
You giggled â it sounded foreign. âJust a bit.â But didnât deter the fact you loved it.Â
You warmed when you felt him squeeze your hip, realising his hand was still there and you reached for it, tangling your fingers with his. He pulled them to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly. His expression was thoughtful when he lowered your hands. âIn all seriousness, thank you for giving me a chance, after well, you know, everything.â
You smiled, touched by his earnestness, but it was hard to keep a sane mind when his lips were as kiss bitten as they were â deep pink and glistening. You wanted to kiss his face off.Â
âItâs no problem,â you quipped, as if you were doing him a favour.Â
He chuckled tenderly, and luckily for you he was unable to stop himself from kissing you again. He reached forward, hooking a finger under your chin to press his mouth to yours softly. âIâd really love if we could keep on doing⊠this.â He murmured.Â
âThe dating or the kissing,â you grinned, stealing another kiss in the process.Â
âHm,â he contemplated. âBoth preferably.âÂ
And then you were on one another again, eager once more.Â
Although, you did manage to pull away briefly to tell him something, his mouth moving to the side of your face to kiss there instead as your hands dragged down his back. You were somehow able to get the words out â ones that made him laugh against your wet jaw.Â
âIâm so glad you hit my car.âÂ
Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
CW TALKS OF VIOLENCE AND MURDER, STABBING.
can i also talk about the shameful desire mixing with immense anger that nines wields for twobe and how itâs demonstrated when heâs k*lling her copy in the soul box. usually especially in media, st*bbing is often a euphemism for, well. sex. penetration, to be more specific.
after the real twobeâs death, nines falls into this spiral. heâs angry. heâs sad. heâs losing all control of every emotion, all at once. all he knew was bloodlust, from then on. all he wanted was to kill a2 for taking 2b away from him. much of this can be illustrated in Long Story when his obsessive and possessive thoughts start to take over, because without 2b, 9s doesnât feel like he has to hide his shameful and disturbed way of thinking. the mask is off.Â
when he was in the circuit dimension with his memories being taken from him, he was more than upset. he was angry. every single memory with 2b were his, and he was possessive over them. this passage here from Long Story demonstrates something interesting i think about often:
The shadow persisted. It ate his memories of 2B: the look that she made when she was confused, the rare moments when she expressed anger, and the time she looked back at him.Â
âStop it!âÂ
He hurled himself onto the shadow.Â
âDonât invade my memories!âÂ
He held down the shadow and constricted him. He was beating down the enemy that had tried to take his precious treasures away.Â
âDonât mess with my memories.âÂ
In a flash, he found himself holding a sword. He stabbed the shadow over and over and over. He straddled the shadow, and continued to stab it. He realized that the shadow had 2Bâs face. Even then, he kept stabbing it. Red liquid sprayed out.Â
âThis isâŠmy memory!âÂ
This is my memory. This 2B is mine and mine only. 2B is mineâŠ
â2B is mineâ. as the shadow presented itself as 2B, he kept stabbing. all his memories and his thoughts took physical form, because deep down inside, he KNEW. he KNEW that it was 2b who took his memories away. the memories that 9s held dear, she took them from him violently. over and over and over again. all this built up anger and betrayal and heartbreak, mixed with desire and possession, he STRADDLED her and killed her, over and over and over again. he had been waiting for this. wanting this. but it was another opportunity that was stolen from him, by a2.
HE wanted to kill her. HE wanted her to suffer. HE wanted her there with him, just so HE could have her back in his life. yes he wanted to kill her. but he didnât want to live in a reality that she wasnât apart of. a slaying so intimate, in a cycle reenacted by the two over and over again.
itâs immediately after this, that he starts to think this:
Iâll kill anyone that hurts 2B. Iâll kill anyone that touches 2B. Iâll kill anyone that comes near 2B. Iâll kill anyone that looks at 2B. The only one allowed to look at 2B is me. The only one allowed to come near 2B is me. The only one allowed to touch 2B is me. The only one allowed to hurt 2B is me. The onlyâŠ
when he finally got to the tower, confronted with copies of 2b it was admitted that nines harbored âperverse feelingsâ for her (this was back in the copy city, the machines all shared a network so they all knew of his confession). this was the way they knew they could break him, since 21O had not worked.Â
he desired her in every sense of the word, going so far as believing he was the only one who could destroy her, even the cheap copies that the tower confronted him with.
See, itâs so easy to break them. Iâm going to slash and crush the faces, arms, and legs that look just like yours, 2B. I wonât leave anything behind. So no one can look at you.Â
One body. Two bodies. Three bodiesâŠÂ
At this rate itâs going to end too quickly, 2B.Â
Four bodies, five bodies, six bodies⊠How many left?
thereâs one left, sheâs not even struggling to move- but he takes it upon himself to finish the job he swore to do.
No, 2B. I told you Iâd destroy all of you, didnât I?Â
He pierced the sword through the chest. Twice, and then a third time.
at this point, itâs overkill. he didnât HAVE to do it. 9S is a scanner after all, not MADE for offensive battle, or battle overall. but this makes him feel good. makes him feel justified.Â
because in his little fucked up mind, this was the only way to be able to feel close to her again, after she died. in their own little fucked up way, this was how they expressed their intimacy- and it grew into this perverse little monster that overtakes nines until his very end.
#black box signal for YoRHa unit 9S is offline  /  ooc.txt#anyway i went off the rails#i didn't even finish my first thought i don't think#but anyway#SDKGHSDGLH#i can go on with how i don't necessarily#ship them /romantically/#but their specific relationship#and the way they co-exist#well.....#i can go on forever about that#HSDGHSDGJ#his memories were the most precious  /  personal data: locked
10 notes
·
View notes