#i know i should be working on wips and requests but i can't help it ksksksk

[xinganhao]

🎱 svt gets jealous ft. producer!reader.

anon → "I always had this idea in my head: seventeen when a fellow female idol under their company is a producer too and is helping to produce their new album, and they start falling for them but get jealous seeing another member and her interacting closely, laughing together etc."

⌗ ┆hyung line ( + a special jihoon chapter! ) ★ ₊ ˚ maknae line.

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: idol/producer!reader, jealousy, svt confesses to reader, svt asks reader out, friends to lovers (implied), [light] angst, fluff -ish, headcanons under the cut. still open to requests!

🎱 headcanons .ᐟ

of course seungcheol is the jealous type. 95z tease him about how visibly pouty he gets when your attention is elsewhere. as petulant as he is, seungcheol has an image to maintain— and, besides, he's always been a bit of a go-getter. he's straightforward enough about his intentions without outwardly exposing his envy. he bides his time, because he's unlikely to initiate anything while you're still producing with the group. but once that passes? you can anticipate a proper invitation to go out on a date.

jeonghan deals with his jealousy by teasing you with the other members, almost even pushing you in their direction. in some way, he's testing you, gauging your reaction. the other half of him really just wants to get a rise out of you. he'll let you know about how he feels in the most casual and cool way, too, like he's just telling you about the weather. afterwards, it's a lot more light teasing— this time, in the form of him poking fun at his own feelings. "yah, you're so lucky to have caught my eye," he'll joke. "what is it with you that has all of us falling over our feet, hm?"

try as he might, joshua can't be chill about the fact that he's feeling something akin to jealousy. he'd be the type to try and evade it, but not in an obvious way. maybe he keeps his distance. maybe he gets a little quiet around you. he's not the pouty type, not the one who will throw a fit; instead, he relegates himself to the sidelines. he'd tell you of his feelings a little later down the line, and only so he can completely get over it.

junhui pins the blame on you. he'll kid around about you cozying up to the other boys in a bid to hide how upset he is that it's not him you're cozying up to. still, there's a smug air to him whenever he confirms that you don't think of them that way. he can be confusing— is he flirting with you? is he just being friendly?— until he finally asks you out. "don't act like you didn't know i liked you," he'll huff, completely oblivious to his mixed signals.

on the flipside of the coin, soonyoung is the complete opposite. he wears his heart on his sleeve, after all. why should this be an exception? he'll whine about not having your attention. he'll fawn over your work until the others are begging him to tone it down. and he'll make it very, very clear that while you're not his (yet), he does not appreciate the other members interacting so closely with you. when it comes to soonyoung, it's really just a matter of when you'll give in to his painfully obvious advances.

this whole situation— falling for someone he's not supposed to, getting jealous of his own members— activates wonwoo's fight or flight response like crazy. it's one thing to accept the fact that, okay, maybe he has a crush on you. but when he has to deal with the fact that he's feeling negatively towards the boys who are as good as his brothers? yeah, wonwoo doesn't like that. in short: he chooses flight. he might freeze you out, might suddenly go from friendly to just cordial enough that it's not mean. the moment he realizes what's happening, wonwoo doesn't hesitate to put his walls up. + a wonwoo drabble!

🎱 the jihoon 'chapter' .ᐟ

author's note: anon, u had no way of knowing this, but i have a brewing jihoon story with a very similar plot as ur request— i absolutely could not resist a quick special (featuring my half-baked thoughts/wip which will hopefully come to life some day lol)

jihoon isn't entirely sure what to make of having a new producer on board, even if it is a temporary arrangement. perhaps it had been his pride. a part of him was happy having BUMZU and PRISMFILTER around, but anything beyond that felt like a challenge. and to have to do this with a fellow idol-producer? it definitely felt like a test of some sorts.

jihoon's hesitance morphs from begrudging respect, to genuine appreciation, to something akin to admiration. he likes your work and your ethic. he sees why you produce for your group; can recognize some of that scrappy, hungry qualities you bring to the studio.

because you run such parallel lines as idols, jihoon ends up exposing to you a habit of his that he tends to only ever show off to his co-producers. he video calls. often.

never mind if it's something that can be resolved over text or audio message. jihoon will video call instead of text because he usually talks in streams of consciousness, because he needs to see your real-time reaction to a lyric or a tune. that's just the type of person that he is, and you quickly get used to it in the months you work together.

honestly, the thoughts of jealousy are secondary to jihoon. if anything, what he's forced to reckon with is a much more foreign feeling. the flutter of his chest when you walk in to his studio. the stutter in his pulse as your fingers lightly brush over his DAW. the hitch of his breath when your head falls, ever so slightly, on to his shoulder, the longer the evening drags on.

jihoon is a man in his late twenties. as he tries to stay absolutely still to keep you from waking, there's only one thing on his mind: wasn't he too old to have a crush?

(when your shared project ends, jihoon goes back and forth before deciding— fuck it. he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.)

(and so he 'confesses' in the most jihoon way he knows: with a song.)

[bunnybubae]

☔This and more

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: One Shot - Established Relationship - Slice of Life - Fluff - Smutty Smut 

Summary: Your weekend at the beach seems to be completely ruined, but luckily, your boyfriend Jeon Jungkook is ready to change everything. 

Warnings: A delicious lunch and a drink at home, they call each other bubi and baby, Bf&Gf shenanigans,✨surprises✨, overall a tooth rotting piece of fluff served with a side of hot steamy smut *wink wink*, the end ❤️

Smut Warnings: Lots of steamy kisses, teasing, love bites, actual bites, dirty talking, worshiping, fingering, oral (F receiving), brief blowjob, rough sex, unprotected sex (she takes the pill), cum on breasts, love making 💓, creampie

Wc: 5.6k 

A/N:  Hiii!🫣I know I should be working on the Red Light series, I promise it's wip and will come to life sooner or later, but I miss my boyfriend who's traveling for work and the weather is shit over here... I had this idea in my docs and I just felt inspired to finally write it. I hope you like it! 🥺 - Joy 🐰

The sun is scorching and the sky is always clear. People wear light clothes and have fun outside. This is summer, right?

Wrong.

Not this weekend at least, since the weather forecast predicted heavy rain until Sunday.

This weekend, in which you had plans with your boyfriend and your friends to spend it at the beach, with tents, lots of food and beach games. Everything ruined, since the first thunder that rumbled.

You wouldn't have been so upset about it if it weren't for the fact that work has been a living hell lately and that you really were looking forward to this outdoor weekend. Even if it was only for a few days, you really wanted to regenerate and disconnect from everything work related.

The sky is so gray, almost black, like your mood right now.

It's Saturday morning and usually, you and Jungkook leave shortly after breakfast to go grocery shopping, when, presumably, there are less people and it is easier to find what you need for the week. As if the bad weather wasn't badding enough, something seems to have hurt your boyfriend, who reluctantly told you that he can't come with you.

You sigh deeply, it couldn't go worse, you think, but maybe it's just your bad mood's fault for these thoughts.

You worry about Jungkook as you look for a spot in the supermarket parking lot. You text him once you find one, asking if he needs medicine or anything else for his stomachache, but he reassures you shortly after, replying that some lactic ferments will do the job.

You continue to stare at his response on the screen thoughtfully, maybe last night's fried chicken was too spicy?

Anyway, the temperature has dropped a lot because of the weather. You put on one of Jungkook's sweatshirts and get ready by putting the hood on before going out to reach the supermarket.

You spend about a couple of hours inside, looking for everything you had on your list.

As you’re about to reach the checkout, with a full cart and the only desire to go home, your phone rings.

It’s a text from Jungkook.

Bubi ❤️: “Bubi could you please buy some fresh mint and lemons while u'r out?”

You check his request a second time, not too sure you understand.

You stop in your tracks, frowning as you type a response.

You: “What do you need them for?”

You watch the chat and his name as it appears and disappears shortly after, waiting for his response, which comes a few moments later.

Bubi❤️: “I read somewhere that making tea with mint and lemon helps calm a stomach ache and I wanna try.”

You're not too convinced but It makes sense, if you think about it.

You reply that you'll get mint and lemons and that you'll go to the pharmacy before you head back home.

It’s almost lunchtime when you park the car in front of the apartment complex where you live.

The rain shows no signs of ceasing, continuing to pound on the windshield of the car. 

When you’re about to get out to grab the groceries from the trunk, you see your boyfriend come out of the front door of the building and reach to your car door with a little jog.

He’s holding an open umbrella in his hand and when he opens the car door to let you out, he smiles widely.

“What are you doing out here?!”

“Let’s carry everything to the elevator together,”

And with that, he leaves a tender kiss on your forehead, a little damp from the rain.

You had forgotten your umbrella at home, despite his warnings. Too caught up in the greyness of your mood, evidently.

Once you have emptied your trunk and reached the elevator with the grocery bags in hand, you sigh loudly. A little tired from the weight of the bags and a little guilty for your state of mind.

He's always so helping and sweet and you have been quite intractable since yesterday. You feel the need to apologize to him.

Jungkook looks at you in silence, a slight smile on his lips as he plays with the piercing of his lip with his tongue.

"I'm sorry, bubi..." You break the silence, taking him by surprise.

"Mh? For what?"

You watch him as you explain why you really needed this weekend away to rest and relax a bit.

Jungkook nods, listening to you until your elevator ride stops at your floor.

"I know baby, don't worry."

The elevator's doors slide open.

It seems he wants to say something else, but he picks up the bags instead and starts to walk towards the front door of your apartment.

You follow him with the bags in your hand, feeling a little lighter and determined not to ruin this weekend any further.

Jungkook opens the door, gets rid of his shoes in the blink of an eye, leaving them near the shoe rack before running towards the kitchen. You don't understand what's gotten into him all of a sudden and when you enter, you put the bags down next to you to take off your shoes and tidy up his too.

When Jungkook returns a few moments later, he picks up your discarded bags too and rushes into the kitchen with them.

"What are you doing?"

You know very well that your boyfriend has these energetic outbursts from time to time, like the good golden retriever boyfriend he is.

He doesn't answer, instead you see him come back towards you, slightly out of breath.

“Ook, so,” He begins, catching his breath.

“I know this weekend at the beach meant a lot to you, especially after spending the last 3 months working non-stop,” 

His hands find yours and squeeze gently as he guides you through the small hallway of your entryway.

“And I know how much you need this, so,” He pauses, making you stop your tracks right in front of him as well.

“I’m sorry I made you go grocery shopping alone with this weather.”

He moves aside, allowing you to see what he was trying to hide behind his back.

The couch has been moved against the wall, the big carpet is adorned with countless children's toys, the classic ones for digging or making shapes in the sand and you notice an inflatable ball and some beach towels hidden under a beach umbrella.

The living room didn't seem that big, yet everything seems to fit in effortlessly. 

You don't know what to say exactly, you observe everything with wide eyes and open mouth as Jungkook continues his speech.

"I know it's not the same thing, but-" You don't even give him time to finish the sentence, that your lips crash against his, your hands holding his face still as you kiss his mouth softly.

Initially surprised, Jungkook gives in in a split second, wrapping his arms around your small figure.

You let him hold you as a few tears threaten to escape your eyes.

You part from his lips just for a moment. 

"So you didn't have diarrhea," And with that, you both burst into laughter in each other's arms as a small tear rolls down your face for the gratitude.

You are truly touched by the effort he put into it, by the love that hides such a gesture.

The laughter stops and your eyes lock. Jungkook caresses your cheek, wiping away that small, solitary tear.

"Thank you, babe..." Your tone is sweet and full of love and gratitude for him.

"This and more for you,"

He grabs one of your hands that are still holding his face and brings it to his lips, he kisses your knuckles with such delicacy before he moves away from you.

"Anyway, you don't look like you're dressed for the beach, why don't you go change while I sort out the groceries?"

You look down at yourself and giggle, even though it's not that hot, the idea of ​​indulging in this little indoor beach is thrilling, you nod, telling him he's right, then you turn around, heading to your bedroom.

"No! Wait!"

Jungkook suddenly exclaims, making you stop in your tracks.

"I moved the bag you had packed to the bathroom, so you can change right there!"

"Oh okay, I'll take the chance to take a quick shower, then."

You reach the bathroom, getting ready to shower before you could finally wear your new bikini.

During your shower you can't help but smile at the idea that you're about to spend some time at the beach, without the beach, and the sun, and the sea. It's amusing. 

Once cleaned and smelling nice, you put on your lilac bikini and its matching beach dress, fix your hair a bit and go back to the living room.

You don't remember seeing the TV on when you came in, but the sound of the waves envelopes you immediately. 

On the TV, a high definition video of the waves lapping the beach repeats over and over and it's yet another detail that makes you smile. Jungkook has really thought of everything.

He's not in the living room, though.

You walk towards the kitchen, smelling something nice as you near the door.  When you enter, you find your shirtless sexy boyfriend in front of the stove as he cooks something. 

"Damn, that smells good," The kitchen is filled with the smell of fresh fish and lemon, it's so mouth-watering.

"That's what you needed the lemon for!"

You giggle as you approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his hips and leaving a light kiss on his shoulder as you watch his movements.

"I just watched a tutorial, I hope it turns out good."

He moves in your arms, turning around so he can observe your figure.

He hums delighted by what he sees.

The swimsuit hugs your curves perfectly and the beach dress semi-transparent fabric allows Jungkook to admire and go wild in his mind, with that see-through effect that makes him crazy.

You know exactly what's going through his mind right now. You can read it in his expression.

Despite the many years of relationship with him, the passion and attraction between you has always been strong, never faltering.

Jungkook has always worshiped your body in every possible way. 

And his carnal gaze, which gently caresses your curves, is proof of that.

It's unbelievable how one single look from him is enough to make you feel like the most beautiful thing in this world.

“You like it?”

You ask innocently, spinning around so he can look at beautiful ass as well.

He hums in agreement, “It’ll look great on the floor later.”

And it’s not the phrase that makes your legs feel weak, but the tone of his voice. Warm and provocative, just the way you like it.

He steals a kiss that’s way too innocent to justify the burning sensation in your belly, before turning his attention back to the stove.

“You should cook shirtless more often,” 

You try to speak, trying to sound unaffected, while your hands nonchalantly caress his pecs from behind, going down to his abs.

He chuckles softly, perfectly knowing what you're up to.

You love every single detail of his body. You swear you know by heart every groove and bump and yet the intensity of your yearning surprises you every time.

You sigh, trapping your lip between your teeth, unable to stop your hands from free roaming on his soft skin.

He is so addicting.

"Y/N.." Your name leaves his lips accompanied by a deep breath.

Your hands have the same effect that his skin has on you.

"What?"

You ask, not missing the contractions of his muscles under your touch when your hands tease his belly, just above the waistband of his swimsuit.

Jungkook turns off the stove and pushes the food away.

Then he turns around, and his face is now a few inches from yours.

In one quick and agile movement, he picks you up, letting your legs circle his bare waist. 

A deep breath escapes your mouth as his chest touches yours and a second later you're sitting on the countertop, its coldness briefly soothing your heat.

"You can't do that while I'm cooking,"

He lets out, then he urgently dives forward, peppering the thin skin of your neck with languid kisses..

You almost moan at the touch. 

"Why not,"

You ask, hoping your voice doesn't sound too desperate right now.

"Cause I'd have to fuck you hard and quick, right here on this countertop,"

You tilt your head backwards, allowing him to do as he pleases with your neck.

"And,"

He pauses, licking a long, slow stripe, from your collarbone to the skin below your earlobe.

"Even tho I know how much you love to be fucked like that,"

He softly kisses your jawline, then whispers right to your ear and your insides turn into boiling lava.

"I want to take my time with you, I want to taste you and savor every drop of your juice when I make you come."

His hands are nowhere on your body, you're only trapped between his arms that keep his weight slightly lean on you. And yet, your skin feels so hot, like his voice and words are washing the last bit of sanity away, leaving goosebumps all over you.

You gulp, unable to speak as you try to calm your breathing.

You love this man, you think you never stopped crushing over him, you're a total mess right now, by only his words and kisses on the neck.

"Fuck baby.."

You manage to say, even though your voice sounds strained.

"Be patient, yeah?"

And just like that, the magic is over.

He frees you, leaving your body hot and bothered just like that.

You whine a little, a sound that makes him chuckle darkly, probably proud of the effect he still has on you. 

You're a tad bit annoyed, you're not gonna lie, but the excitement for what's to come prevails.

After having lunch with some delicious lemony fish, you and Jungkook decide to enjoy some relaxation lying on the beach towels placed on the floor in front of the TV. The mint cocktails you made earlier rest next to you, while some music plays casually from your phone.

You have to admit that the whole vibe is working very well, you don't even miss the sand and the smell of saltiness in the air. Everything feels just right, with the man you love by your side.

The apartment isn't that big, but everything Jungkook has prepared for the theme seems to fit perfectly, without being too bulky.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings, while sipping your drink every now and then.

You notice that there is enough space between the towels and the television, so you decide to grab the Nintendo Switch from its dock, and place it in front of you.

"Wanna play?"

Jungkook, who seems far too relaxed on his towel, is drawn in by your playful tone, he smiles nodding before grabbing a pair of joycons.

"What do you wanna play?"

You think for a moment, as you scroll through the games you have, undecided between Just Dance, volleyball, which might be the most suitable for the beach mood, or WarioWare, which as stupid as it is, never fails to make you laugh.

"We could play some volleyball to begin with, what do you say?"

"I'm down,"

You make some space and strap your joy con, just to be sure you don't crash anything while playing.

The games go smoothly and match after match and sip after sip of your drinks, you grow dizzier. 

By the time you start playing Wario Ware, you both are a laughing mess, seeing your boyfriend copy those funny poses is the highlight of the day.

Your cheeks are hurting from the laugh and you don't even know what time it is while the rain keeps pouring outside.

The sound of sporadic thunder is a soft reminder that what is going on outside, doesn't bother you at all. 

Especially now, embraced in your boyfriend's arms, skin to skin, as the center of your living room becomes the center of your world.

He kisses you, ever so gently, as his mouth moves with yours in a dance they know oh so well.

You bet his lips shared some secrets with yours as when you part from each other for a moment, you both smile fondly. As if no words are needed.

The way he's looking at you makes you feel so lucky.

You feel so precious when he touches you, so cherished.

His hands are so tender and attentive, he outlines your sides, pushing his body to yours as if it was possible to feel you even closer.

The game is long forgotten as you share another kiss, less innocent than the previous one.

Your hands bravely caress his shoulders and nape before intertwining with some soft locks.

Some music is still playing from your phone, thrown somewhere on the carpet when suddenly, As Long As You Love Me by Justin Bieber starts playing. 

A pretty old song, but you remember you saved the acoustic version a long time ago, when you two weren't even a thing.

It couldn't be more apt for this moment in time, you think.

Your smile breaks the kiss and even though you feel your head a little heavy from the alcohol, you start singing.

He watches you fondly, swinging with you in his arms to the rhythm as he begins to sing the song with you.

His voice is heaven, you always told him that and he likes to sing for you. Although the shower or the car are his favorite stages most of the time.

You keep singing your heart out, pouring all your love in the lyrics as your gaze gets lost in his.

You've always been the sensitive type, especially in this kind of situation.

Your boyfriend seems as affected as you, though.

His gaze is glimmering and his embrace is tighter than before.

The song slowly but surely comes toward its end when Jungkook softly leans forward, whispering the last phrase right on your lips.

Your heart feels like it's about to burst in your chest and a moment later you're kissing him, like your life depends on it.

He lets you kiss him, lets you taste his tongue and maybe it's the alcohol, maybe the whole vibe, but you end up sprawled on the beach towels, kissing each other's brains out.

The beach umbrella, placed open on the ground for obvious reasons, offers some sort of shield from the artificial light of the lamp. The light filters through the colored material, leaving a soft hue of colors on your bodies.

You don't know where your beach dress has been thrown, the only thing in your mind right now, is your boyfriend's kisses.

He prints wet kisses all over your body and you feel like you're burning.

You breathe heavily, concentrating on the sensations of his lips on your abdomen.

"So fucking pretty,"

He states, seemingly out of breath. You shiver in pleasure as your heart skips a beat.

His hands reach your bikini bottom and you almost moan shamelessly as he asks,

"Are you already wet for me, baby?"

Then he pushes your bikini aside, not waiting for your answers, wanting to find out himself.

"Fuck, yes"

It's the only phrase that leaves your gaping mouth as he swipes his fingers between your legs.

You can feel the stickiness of your bikini and his breath right in front of your core.

"Want me to make you even wetter?

A soft yes leaves your lips, barely audible.

"Speak up, baby,"

It's a lewd scene, your legs are wide open in front of him and Jungkook is palming himself with his free hand. His swimming trunks are an uncomfortable obstacle but it's something he'll deal with later.

His attention is only focused on you right now.

"Kook-"

You moan as his wet fingers circle your clit.

"I want your tongue," you confess "Make me come on your tongue,"

You breathe out as your hands move over your tits, sliding under the fabric of your bikini top.

"Fuck, I love when you talk to me like that,"

He groans, and a moment later, he is giving in, licking your folds, sucking your clit, just as you like it. He knows it's going to make you a moaning mess before him.

He wasn't lying before, he is taking his sweet time savoring you, fucking you slowly with his tongue, then circling your clit and sucking on it every now and then.

When your body reacts at the waves of pleasure his motions are providing, he laughs darkly, the vibration of it a sweet addition to your pleasure.

Your body trembles, your orgasm building up at every french kiss he gives your pussy and you think you're going insane.

Your moans are louder, turning to sweet little whine when you know you're about to reach your high.

"I'm close, fuck, don't stop,"

As if he needed you to tell him not to stop.

Jungkook is quick to react, pushing with ease his middle and ring finger inside you.

The new stimulation makes you cry out in pleasure and he is so turned on by your sounds, he thinks he might bust in his swimming suit just with that.

"Love this pussy,"

He says, voice deep and steady.

"Can't wait to fuck you just right,"

And just like that, the built up tension in your belly snaps and a strong orgasm washes over you.

His hands, his words, the picture of his pretty cock slamming into your pussy, sends you over the edge. 

You let out a moan that sounds like his name and your hands move from your tits to brush his hair. 

You're still trembling from your orgasm when you open your eyes, not sure when you closed them and all you see is your boyfriend, hair disheveled, sucking on his wet fingers like a lollipop. 

His dark gaze meets your dazed eyes and he smiles, way too innocently considering the lustful motions of his tongue.

"God," you blurt out,  trying to regain a stable breathing, "Why are you still wearing that?"

You point at his bottom half, moving a second later to help him freed himself from the useless piece of clothing.  

His dick springs free, hungry and leaking some precum.

You hum, licking your lips as if you were a starved woman, ready to devour her meal. 

When you grab the base of his thick member and move to lick it, Jungkook surprisingly blocks your hand gently.

You frown, looking up mid motion, puzzled.

"I won't be able to hold back much longer if you suck me,"

His voice is almost apologetic and you tenderly smile, finding his confession hot and endearing at the same time.

"Just a little?"

You put up your best pleading eyes, softly adding, "Please?"

Jungkook's eyes roll back as he bites his lip and a deep breath leaves through his nostrils.

You know he likes when you beg for it.

While you scream in pleasure or with big innocent eyes, he just loves when you ask nicely, like a good girl.

He can't resist you.

He could never resist those pretty eyes of yours.

He shifts in his place, allowing you to get on your knees before grabbing your chin, ever so gently.

"Be a good girl then and open wide."

You smile in content, doing just as he asked, opening your mouth as wide as you can and sticking out your tongue.

When you look up at him, Jungkook slowly puts his fingers inside your mouth, and your faint taste still lingers in them. 

You suck and lick on them for a second, then when he pulls them out, he smears your saliva along his sensitive dick. 

His breaths are heavy and when he slams it a couple of times on your tongue he groans.

That's when he loses it a little. 

He grabs your jaw, helping you tilt your head at the right angle, then pushes the tip inside. 

You do your best by swirling your tongue around the salty tip, closing your lips around it just enough for him to feel a little pressure.

By the time you pop your lips open, he pushes a little more in, enough to stuff your mouth.

You instinctively bob your head, trying to get more of him inside and when a moan escapes his throat, you know he will stop you soon.

You take the opportunity to tease him a little, grabbing at his butt and fondling the soft skin of it as he sloppily thrusts.

Jungkook's sounds are animalistic, his thrusts are steady but right before he pulls out completely, he gives one last thrust that almost hits the back of your throat.

You gasp for air as he gently pushes you back down on the beach towel.

He swiftly takes your bikini away, both the bottom and the top, and latches his plumb lips to one of your breasts.

The coldness of his piercing mixed with his hot breath is a nice contrast for your perked up nipples.

You hiss when he bites the sensitive nub, but he quickly eases the pain away by kissing and lapping at the abused skin.

"Kook-"

A broken moan leaves your throat when he bites you again, this time on the delicate meat of your breast. It's softer than before, but you feel hyper responsive right now. 

"Can I come here?"

He whispers, leaving a trail of wet kisses all over your chest.

You giggle, feeling a little ticklish when his fingers travel down your sides.

"Why are you asking?" you pull him closer till his cock is leaning between your folds.

The contact sends shivers down to your core and you buck your hips almost automatically.

"You know I love it, Kook"

He just needed to hear you say that aloud, that's clear when pushes up a little, aligning the tip of his member with your entrance. 

"You love it, huh? Thought you loved it more inside you tho,"

He pushes in, inch by inch as he finishes his phrase.

You gasp at the sweet stretch, feeling breathless as he bottoms up.

"I love it down my throat too,"

That makes him go feral. 

It's all you're able to say before he props up on his elbow, one hand behind your shoulder, the other clasped around your hip to keep you there as he fucks you at a ruthless pace.

You're fucking on the floor, on a beach towel, shielded by a beach umbrella with Wario Ware long forgotten on the tv and some music shuffling from your phone, meanwhile outside it's pouring and thundering since this morning.

It might seem a messy situation, but everything feels at his place.. Nothing is missing here.

Every thrust elicits soft moans from you. He promptly kisses you, and as you make out you wrap your arms around him, trying to pull him closer and closer.

That allows him to jack hammer into you with measured force. 

The squelching sounds are filling the room, followed by his throaty moans and yours.

You're about to come once again, the pressure on your stomach well fed by the way his cock is hitting on the right spot inside you.

"Kook," you cry out, "I'm about to-"

"Me too baby," he pecks your lips before he adds, "Let me feel you come all over my cock,"

His hips slap against yours impossibly fast, just as fast as your orgasm approaches.

Your body stiffens and after a few seconds there it is, the sweet release, the white pleasure that washes over you.

You cry out his name repeatedly, till your cry subside to a moan and you feel his thrusts getting sloppier and erratic.

"Fuck, yes, I'm coming too,"

And he pulls out quickly, kneeling between your trembling legs before he pumps his fist around his drenched dick a few times before hot spurts of his cum lands on your body.

He moans shamelessly and you love when he gets all vocal, it turns you on even though you feel totally devastated right now.

He covers your breasts in sticky white and some of it lands on your chin too.

You don't mind, not when he looks so blissed and fucked out.

When he empties his load completely, he watches you, admiring his masterpiece and offering you a hand.

He chuckles breathlessly and pecks your lips as he pulls you up.

"Let's take a shower, shall we?"

You nod, not sure if you're able to speak right. 

You make sure to turn off the tv and the music on your phone before you head straight to the bathroom.

Jungkook offers to wash you up first and you let him do it.

It's obviously not the first time you shower together, but it doesn't happen that often either.

You wash up each other, giggling and chatting like he was not balls deep inside you just moments ago.

By the time you finish your shower and dry up, it's dinner time.

You enjoy your evening eating the food you thoroughly prepared beforehand right on the floor, because yes, Jungkook refused to put away the beach towels saying that "Our beach experience is not over yet". 

Even though you shake your head in defeat, you chuckle, amused by his determination.

The evening went by in total relaxation, you're curled up on your boyfriend's side as another episode of Demon's Slayer flashes on the tv screen. The air is chilly right now and you feel the fatigue of the day get the better of you. 

"Wanna go to bed after this episode?"

He asks, noticing your breathing is getting heavier.

You fell asleep a couple of times for a few minutes, trying to keep track of what you're watching when you woke up, but it's kind of frustrating.

You hum in agreement, stretching your back a little.

When the episode comes to its end, Jungkook stands up from the ground and leaves the living room. You walk up to the window, curious to see the state of the world outside.

Perhaps you hoped to see a clear sky, but unfortunately you were disappointed.

It's still raining, though it's not pouring like this afternoon. Droplets of water are slamming on the glass in a soft lullaby.

It's soothing somehow and you take a moment to take in the different effect the rainy weather has on you right now, compared to this morning.

Strong arms circle your waist and a soft peck on your head draws your attention away from the window. 

"There's another surprise for you,"

He whispers right in your ear before you turn around to look into his eyes.

Your arms find their place around his neck and you look at him, intrigued.

"Another one?"

He grins at your curiosity, pulling you towards the bedroom just a moment later.

When you enter the room, you're welcomed by his favorite galaxy lamp while it projects purple and blue hue up on the roof. 

Small green dots serve as little stars, scattered all around as they are slow dancing and a camping tent about the size of the bed is placed on top of it.

You're shocked, unable to speak as emotions get stuck in your throat, you inspect the room with teary eyes, touched by all his effort to make this weekend just perfect.

"Do you like it?"

He tentatively asks, watching your reaction by the frame of the door.

When you turn around you quickly reach out to him, hugging him so tight you think you might break his spine.

You softly sob on his chest as he returns the hug, kissing the top of your head affectionately and when you finally look up at him with a wide smile, Jungkook breaks in the softest laugh you have ever heard from him.

"It's perfect," you state, "You are perfect,"

Jungkook's gaze fills with all the love he has for you, a gaze that doesn't need words and after he dried away your salty tears, you kiss him passionately. 

Nothing could ever compare to this moment, to this little piece of heaven he created for just the two of you, under a starry sky that belongs to you and him and no one else.

You poured all your love on every inch of his body, tasted his soft skin and marked it as yours.

He did the same to you, making sure your body was worshiped as it deserves.

That night, you made love like nothing existed outside of your camping tent, it was only you and him, becoming one as your soft moans mingled in the room.

It was gentle, like the time was no longer flowing until slowly but surely, you reached your high together, hugging each other as he came inside you.

You felt full of him, in every sense possible as he softly kissed your forehead and you whispered the sweetest I love you in the air.

You cuddled to sleep, refusing to leave your tent to go wash up and when the morning after you woke up between your boyfriend's arms, you knew another beautiful day on a sandless beach awaited.

Another day with the love of your life, in your little perfect world.

[riniworld]

heart stealer

yandere! crown prince x maid! reader

warning|| mention of an injury+blood, humiliating(not to reader),i guess that's it?

reference|| you,she/her,y/n(one time),maid.

a/n|| i planed on making it longer but i lost motivation to complete it (╯︵╰,)

(pt.2)

you've been raised in this castle,your parents were servants under the royal family,your father was the head butler but your mother was an ordinary maid.

and you inherited this from them,at age 18,after a year from the death of the emperor and his wife,you became a maid working along side with your mother.

month after month you have been chosen by the court to become the personal maid of the crown prince himself.

you don't know if you should be excited or anxious,you've never meet the crown prince but you did hear a few things about him and it wasn't pleasing at all.

plus,it will be more work for you by this time as the royal coronation ceremony is close.

standing nervously outside the crown prince's room,you inhale a deep breath as you knock on the door,after two minute a "come in" was heard from the inside,you step inside and stand by the door waiting for him to notice you.

he was sitting on the edge of the window,his sword in his lap as he wip the blade, he glanced at you for a brief moment.

"who are you?" he asked as he return his attention to the sword.

you bow " I will be your personal maid from now on,your royal highness, i would try my very best to please you."

taron hummed in acknowledge "very well," he walked up to you and threw the sword at you "Clean it well."

"oh...ah! as you wish your highness!." you bow and run to clean it.

the next few days went the same, weird requests, trying to please him, and on above of all of that is the preparation for the royal coronation ceremony.

he wasn't interested in anything of it, not the choice of the clothes nor the food that has to be served, the food problem can easily be solved but the clothes, the accessories that all have to be his choice and you,as his personal maid, need to help him with these things but if you can't see him how can you help him??

you know he spend most of his time on the training ground, but it's forbidden for servants to go to this ground so you can't do anything but wait.

one day you stayed in his room after the work hours, you were determined to make him do what he has to.

but to your surprise he returns with an injury, you couldn't see how serious it is but you rush to his side, it was involuntary reaction (i don't know if that's true)

"your highness!,what happened?." you stops close to him but you don't dare to touch him.

taron glares at you clearly pissed "what the heck are you doing here until now?" you can hear the tireness in his voice.

"your highness,let me patch i-" "i do not like to repeat myself."

"i-i was waiting for you to return..." you back away a little in obedience.

taron heads to the bed with a groan and sits on the edge "you can go now then."

"let me patch your wound first."

"what did i say?."

"i know, but your highness...you are bleeding and it is my duty to help you.." you mumble the last part.

taron sighed "how annoying." he say under his breath.

you took this as an approval and take a closer steps to him, you sit down beside him and looks at him asking for approval to touch him, he turn to his side.

you couldn't help the faint smile that plays on your lips when he shows that side of him, he was always putting the tough face but in the few hours you got to spend with him through the days you've worked in under him you've come to know that he has a soft spot but he doesn't show it.

you hesitantly lift his clothes off and takes it to his bathroom and searched for few things that could help him until a doctor comes to him tomorrow.

finally you found alcohol and a white rag that you think it's clean. you return to him quickly putting the alcohol on the rag.

"This might sting,your highness, tell me if i hurt you."

taron scoff "you think something like that is going to hurt me?"

"oh-uh i did not mean to offense you in any way,your hi-!."

"just do your job."

you shut your mouth and begin wrapping the rag around his wound carefully, it was pretty awkward, taron didn't move nor talked, he was just looking in the space in front of him.

you couldn't help stealing glances from time to time, his body isn't that muscular, but his skill in sword is incredible, or that what you've heard.

you were lost in thought that you didn't notice your hand still laying on taron's body when you've finished.

taron moved your hands away jolting you out of your thoughts "are you done?"

your face redned in embarrassment and you stand up quickly taking a step away "i-yes, i wish you a quick recovery, now if you will excuse me, your highness."

taron nodded and you get out the room heading to the servants' suite. taron groan and lay down on the bed, putting his hand where was yours, the only thing he didn't get as an soon-to-be-emperor is affection wich you gave just now, and it's a foreign feelings to him.

the next day you make your day to the crown prince to check on him and to call a doctor, but when you entre the room you see at least eight of nurses and a doctor around him, you hurry to his side asking one of the nurses.

"what happening? is his highness okay?"

"oh miss, who are you?"

"I'm-..I'm his personal maid."

"ah very well you might give information....when did his highness get injured?."

"yesterday he came covered in blood, and i, myself,treated his injury."

"....oh no miss, so you are the one who bandaged it with this rag?" the nurse holded the rag to you.

"i am, it was clean, as i saw it."

"well, it was not, and his injury got effected."

"what?! is he okay now?!"

"i do not know what will happen after, but for now he has a high fever."

you gasped in horror, what if something happened to him?? then you'll be the killer of the only royal blood, your life will end there.

the next three days, taron didn't wake up, and you didn't leave him, yes there was always a nurse beside him, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave him, one because you need to make sure he'll stay alive for your life, and second there's just this feeling that toging you to stay by his side, so you stayed either working in the room or taking the nurse's place while they rest.

he sometimes would call names, like his brother's or some foreign names to you, but he never called his parents name,weird, is it a sin that you wanted to be one of these names?

rumors spreaded quickly within the castle, and everyone was talking about 'how the soon-to-be-emperor maid tried to kill him' you couldn't walk comfortably in the castle, everyone was giving you the nasty star and worse sometimes they talk shit to you or even hurt you, and what are you going to do to stop all that? everything scream that you tried to kill taron.

the forth day, exactly at noon, you were cleaning the desks when you heard a groan from taron, you hurried to his side thinking he got worse or uncomfortable, but when you got to his side, his eyes were opening, you didn't waste a time to call for the nurse as they were eating.

"thank god you woke up, your highness, we do not know what we would have done if you did not wake up." the nurse says as she checks on his temperature

"how many days have i been asleep?" taron asks, he closed his eyes from the sun, and you run to close the curtain.

"for three and a half now, your highness."

you can hear taron curses under his breath when he hear that, he turn his head and looked at you, raising his eyebrow as 'what are you doing here?'.

the nurse cleared their throat, and you knew where was that going to, you looked down in shame.

"your highness, this maid is the reason you are in this state, her dumb mistake to bandage your injury with a rag put you in danger." the nurse explained with a harsh tone

you started to tear up, you don't want to die nor you want taron to think bad of you, "your highness, i-i was too worried i wanted to stop the bleeding quickly i did not know it would....get to this." your voice cracked at the last sentence as you looked in taron's eyes, you know this is not an enough excuse, but how can you defend yourself in any other way? telling the truth is the only thing you can do.

taron stared intensely at you for a moment before a smile cracked his face, why is he smiling? have you said something funny?

"that's just an unbelie-"

"enough" taron cut the nurse off in annoyance,turning his his head to the selling "your yapping make my head hurt get out." you didn't quite know who he was talking to, but it was obvious wasn't it?

"well? what are you waiting for?" the nurse shouted at you.

"not her, you." taron point at the nurse

"...m-me? as you wish your highness." the nurse bow and left.

you start getting anxious, wondering why did he kept you here, are you in a problem? what a stupid question of course you are, taron isn't a forgiving person that for sure.

taron tried to sit up with a groan and you rush to his side to help him, after his sit comfortably he speak "trying to kill me, are we?." he joked.

"i swear i did not mean to,your highness!" you said quickly in fear.

taron only giggled softly, his dimple showing up, you stared mesmeraisedly at him, it was rare to see him smile or laugh that what you learned from the old servants, but to see this sight it was worth everything, "i know you would not dare do it." taron say.

"really? you believe me, your highness?!" you asked in relief.

"of course, a weak coward and naive maid like you would not even kill a fly."

"oh-at least you could have said it more kindly.." you thought. "i appreciate that you believe me, your highness." you say in happiness, after all if the soon-to-be-emperor believes you that's enough.

taron's smile fades away, did he lost himself with a mere maid? he can't believe what he's doing, you're really starting to get to him. he laid down back and cover his head with the blanket "close the curtain and get out." he ordered.

you did what he told you, despite his tone, nothing can change your mood now, before you can set your foot outside the room taron speaks again "and come tomorrow by the evening to complete the preparation for the ceremony.", your face lit up "gladly!" you say a bit loud.

"she is adorable." taron thought as you made your way out

you were heading to your mother to tell her that you've finally made the heir prince do what he has to.

the next morning you were too excited to prepare for the ceremony with taron that no one could change your happy mood not even the shitty talk around and about you.

you were heading to taron's room holding breakfast for him when suddenly a maid stopped you, she looks old.

"is that for his royal highness?" she asks firmly.

you nod "it is."

"get it back to the kitchen, no one can trust what you have put in it." she demanded like she's your boss.

"what? are you implying that i poisoned it?" you start to get angry, that's starting to get too much.

"you are not trustworthy, i do not know why the curt kept you untill now."

"that just prove that they see me more trusting than anyone here, even than the old ones!" you raised your voice a bit.

"you already tried to get rid of his royal highness once."

"that-! i did not-..." your voice trail on the end, what will you say? no one will believe you.

"now take it back to the kitchen if you may." she said coldly

you lower your head and went back to the kitchen putting the breakfast on the table frustrating, you've had enough of all of this, should you tell taron about that? maybe he'll help you...

other maids has cooked a new break and escort you to taron's room so they'll make sure your wouldn't "put something in it".

taron noticed your fallen face when you put his breakfast, you usually have a smile on your face whenever you're around him, you start rambling around in the room, getting outfits ready or organizing things in the room, taron couldn't help glancing in your direction ever so often, you just seemed...off?.

"what got into you? why do you even care? focus taron! " taron thought with himself,his eyes darting to you again "....there is no wrong in asking though, i have the right to do."

with that he grabbed your wrist when you walked closer to his reach "what is with you?" he sounded angry rather than concerning "i did not want it to sound like that! "

you hesitated to tell him about what happened earlier "no it is noth-" you cut yourself off, why would you cover their act up? if the crown prince himself is asking what is wrong, you should take this to your advantage "...your highness...the servants and the maids are treating me badly, they call me...names, and earlier before i bring the breakfast to you, one of the old maid stopped me and she forced me to go throw the food that i made.." you explained.

taron didn't say a thing but you could feel his grip on your wrist tighten, a second later taron was dragging you along with him heading to the hall, he stopped by your father, the head butler and told him to announce that he want every single servant and maid to come to the main hall, your father looked at you worriedly, you shrugged mouthing "i don not know" he seems to relax a bit when he sees that you're not scared or seem in trouble, your father bow in respect and went to do what taron told him.

taron dragged you to the main hall, where the throne was he climbed near it, and tugged on you to get up there with him, but you refused you couldn't just go near the throne could you?

"your highness, i do not think this is a proper thing to do!"

"you are going to teach me what is proper and what is not?" he says a bit mockingly.

"no..that is not what i meant.." you mutter.

taron sigh and roll his eyes before he pulls you over to him, you stumble into him and he wrap his hand around your shoulders, you tried to get away a little bit but taron squeezed your shoulder when he felt you slip, for a moment he only star at you before he exhale sharply and say something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch then he let go of you and sit on his throne.

before you can ask anything the room start to be filled with the servants, you catch your mother eyes looking at you worriedly, you smile at her in reassure.

taron clear his throat to get everyone's attention.

"..I have heard...there is someone who have been harassing my maid." he pauseed for a second, "do you all have a problem with her?" he suddenly took your hand and put it near his lips as he looked at you "Because from my side, I don't mind if she is the one who wants to kill me." you were so in shock to respond or do anything, taron then looked at the crowd without letting your hand "do you have something to say?" when no one said anything taron continue "If I hear that anyone bothered her again, they will meet the blade of my sword....everyone may leave now but the maids that on the kitchen."

the crowd start to leave,leaving the ones who work in the kitchen and the woman tha- "tell me who bothered you earlier." taron demanded

"...your highness it is not necessary anymore-" "did i stutter? tell me who is she."

you pointed hesitantly at the woman and she looked at you with wide eyes filled with fear, the next thing you knew, taron made her apologize on her knees in front of you.

what have you got yourself into?

have a nice day/night♡

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: slept like crap last night but we got this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Sy is nice enough but you're still put off by your meeting. He carries a bag gallantly to a large black truck and pulls open the back door to place it on the seat. He turns to you to take the next. You hug it, wondering if you should settle for half your load and run for the hills.

Still, you can't help but feel beholden to him. The pin on his hat and the way he looks at you. He just seems a bit oblivious to how unsettling his approach Is.

He takes the bag and you just stare. You feel hollow and your ears are on fire. You just keep going along with this and that voice in your head is screaming at you to stop.

“Here,” he shuts the back door and pulls the passenger's open.

You look at him then into the truck. Are you crazy!? You can't just go with this man in his vehicle…

You grab onto the interior of the door and climb up into the truck. He touches your lower back gently as if to help you. You drop into the seat and thank him, trying not to let your fear bubble over.

He shuts the door and your stomach plummets. Are you being kidnapped? Are you letting yourself be abducted? Oh, you're gonna end up on a podcast.

He gets in the driver's side as you sink into the horror movie unfolding in your head. You look over at him as he unfolds a pair of dark sunglasses and puts them on to block out the sun's glare. He's so calm it's frightening. He knows exactly what's coming and you can't even begin to imagine the sheer terror awaiting you.

Maybe a nice basement cell. Worse, a field and a hole six feet deep. Your heart feels like it's stopped. Your vision is hazy and your ears are ringing.

The truck rolls backwards and lurches you back to reality. You blink and look over the hood. Sy pulls out of the spot smoothly and cranks the wheel to straighten out.

“Y'okay, sweetie?” He asks as he comes to the exit.

“Mmm, yeah,” you eke out as you grip the inside of the door. “I'm all good I just… I never expected to meet a follower.”

“Yeah, I uh… you know, I only ever dreamed it. Being over there, the days… well you don't know if you'll see the next, or even the night,” he lets out a deep breath, “I didn't put real thought into it til I got back and… it's so fu– so, er, lonely, you know? You're the only thing that was the same.”

“Oh,” your cheeks twitch as you attempt a smile, “that's very sweet. I… you know, I kinda just do the streams to get my thoughts out, it's not really… I don't know.”

“I like it. It's peaceful,” he drives down the street as the passing buildings spike your concern. “Don't get much of that.”

“Sure, I… I can imagine.”

“Hey, if it means keeping sweet things like you safe, I'll do it,” he chuckles. 

Before you can respond, he slams on the breaks and his tires skid. A car in front of him flashes their tail light. He snarls and you watch the fury furrow above his brows.

“You fu–” his booming voice catches and he bites down on his words, growling instead. “Ugh,” he exhales, “that guy… coulda got hurt…”

“Yeah,” you clasp your hands together.

"Or he coulda hurt us!" He throws a hand up.

“That was close," you mewl, "but we're okay, right?”

He inhales and looks at you. He closes his eyes and nods, “you're right, sweetie.”

You bite down, fighting not to show your fear. There's something in him that threatens to boil over. You can see it in the vein popping out along his forehead.

“So, I know a place, they got good bacon, probably some good french toast,” he leans on the pedal again, “get some whip cream on top?”

“Well, I appreciate it but I really should get home,” you say gently, “but maybe another time–”

“It's my treat, sweetie,” he insists, “it's been a long time since I got to sit down to eat with a pretty girl.”

“Oh,” is all you can muster. You don't want to push him. You know the tenuous tightrope walk. Just do what he wants, keep him happy.

“I didn't say… you look real nice today. That's my favourite of yours,” he keeps one hand on the wheel and points towards you, “the overalls.”

“Thank you,” you murmur and twist your fingers, letting out a rocky chuckle.

“So cute when you do that,” he rumbles and rests his hand on the corner of your seat, “that lil laugh.”

“Um, yeah, sorry, I… it's  a habit.”

“Nah, I like it,” he assures you and rescinds his hand to flip his signal on.

He turns into another plaza and you see the bright painted sign above a diner. A white cup on a teal banner. You've never been there but you pass it on the bus. He pulls up right at the front of the lot before the windows. You can see people inside as waitress carry trays between tables.

“I don't know about you but I'm starving,” he drawls and undoes his seat belt.

You sit in the seat, paralysed and helpless. He comes around your side and you click the button on your own belt. You turn and he offers his hand to help you get down. When you ignore it, he grabs your arm to ease your landing.

He swings the door shut and you shuffle past him. You have no choice but to keep going. Get through this and you'll go home and block him. Maybe even delete your whole account.

He reaches around you as you come up to the door and pulls it open. Be sweeps you inside with his arm and follows you through. A waitress in a black blouse greets you and you look to Sy over your shoulder.

“Table, thank you,” he says.

She leads you to a table for two and you sit, arms crossed as you rock nervously. He orders coffee as he slides off his sunglasses and the waitress turns to you. You push yourself straight. 

“Um, chocolate milk, please,” you request.

“Right away, hon,” she leaves you with the menus as you unfold your arms and pick at your thumbnail.

“So cute, chocolate milk,” he comments as he takes the laminated menu from the table, “oh, look,” he flicks it, “French toast. Can get berries with it.”

You look down and lean forward to see past the sheen of the plastic sheath. You narrow in on the French toast but your stomach rolls. You're too nervous to be hungry.

“Yeah, looks good,” you say, “um, I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Sure,” he smiles as he browses the menu.

You get up, wobbling slightly before you get your balance. You search for the sign to the restrooms and head down the short hall behind the kitchen. You dip inside and lock yourself in a stall.

You really can't afford to abandon your groceries. Worse, you don't dare anger him. He's nice but you don't know how nice he'd be if you ran out on him. Just get yourself together, it's just breakfast. You'll get through it then try to forget your stupidity.

You should've known better but you didn't have enough followers to worry  it never even occurred to you but it should be. It's your own fault.

You take a few minutes to mellow out. You don't quite get there but the longer you stay, the longer he has to get suspicious. No, you're not going to run. You don't think you'll get very far.

You come back out and return to the table. As you sit, he sips his coffee and his eyes crinkle at you. Your chocolate milk is waiting beside a wrapped straw. As you tear through the paper, you sense him watching you.

He clinks his cup down, "ordered your french toast. Extra sugar... since you're so sweet."

You issue a brittle chuckle. You stare at him. He's taken his cap off, revealing a shaved head above his thick beard. His shoulders are broad, all of him is. He's so thick and his arms are bulging with muscle beneath his tee shirt. His eyes are a brilliant shade of blue, a contrast to the rest of his rough exterior.

"You don't gotta be shy," his voice gristle in his throat as he leans forward, elbows on the table. "What do ya wanna know?"

"Pardon?" You croak.

"Well, I know everything about you," he grins, "you barely know me."

You gulp, wavering like you've been knocked upside the head. You part your lips and peer around. His self-awareness if almost there but not quite.

"I..." you don't know what to say or ask or do. He toys with the handle of his coffee cup. "What do you take.... in your, uh, coffee?"

He chuckles, "really? Why's that? You planning to bring me coffee in the mornings?"

You meet his eyes again and he winks. You giggle and move your lips like a gasping fish.

"Teasing, ya, sweetie, I don't wanna rush you," he says, "I take it black, but I don't mind some cream on Sundays."

You nod, embarrassed, and poke your straw into your cup, leaning forward to slurp up the chocolate milk. His eyes linger on your lips as you do. You pull back and take a napkin to wipe your mouth.

"Erm... well, what... how did you... find my page?"

He sits back, gripping the edges of the table as he sighs, "I was just scrolling around but I'm starting to think it's something bigger than us, you know? I was goin' through it. I needed something and there you were, showin' off those new boots you got with the flower."

Flowers? You got those boots over a year ago. You remember that stream. He's been watching you that long.

"Oh, ha, right," you murmur.

"There aren't many people out there like you left, you know? I've seen the worst in people but in you, I saw the best," he explains, "the way you just take everything in. Looking at the flowers and the birds and... you just know how to appreciate life."

You smile and nod. What else can you do as the world crashes down? He was there yesterday. That blurry figure behind you in the photo, the shadow creeping just beyond your sight. You don't doubt it was him.

“I try, er…”

You sit back as the waitress approaches. She puts a plate before you, French toast with a side of fruit salad, sugar and whip on top of the bread. She lays down Sy's plate, mounded in eggs, home fries, sausage, and two types of bacon, with rye toast. You would guess that is just barely enough to fill him up.

“Dig in,” he says as he grabs his cutlery.

You sit forward and take your fork and knife. You cut into the eggy bread and stab the small triangle of the corner. As you raise your fork, Sy growls, “get some cream too, sweetie.”

You flinch but do as he says. You swipe the bread through the dolloped cream and shove it through your lips. You stare at your plate as you chew. You wish he wouldn't watch you. You don't like eating in front of others.

“Is it good?” He asks.

“Very,” you swallow and cover your mouth.

“Don't worry, I think it's cute you got cream on your lips,” he plucks up a piece of bacon with his fingers, “didn't get good fixings like this in the sh– over there,” he bites into the strip and chews.

“Yeah, I wouldn't think…” you twirl your fork nervously, “do you have to go back?”

“Mmm, not anytime soon. They're tryna get me on a desk,” he shrugs, “might be a good change but I don't know if I'm suited to it…” he tosses back the rest of the bacon, chewing thoughtfully, “but I'm about that age. Gotta settle down, so I figure, makes sense.”

“Right, right, yeah, fair,” you garble mindlessly.

“Besides, when you got someone at home, you don't wanna run back into the bull– into war,” he smirks.

You take another bite, even as your stomach churns. You don't like how he's talking, as if you're together. As if he knows you. It's strange.

He scoops up a forkful of home fries and shovels them back. You can't fault his table manners, he was probably eating out of cans for the last few years. Not that you would say anything. You're much too scared for that.

You fall into a trance, focusing on the simple task of cutting into the toast, chewing but not tasting as your heart tamps behind your ears. You sense a shift and look up, your cheeks full of food as you make eye contact with Sy’s phone camera. You swallow painfully and nearly choke.

“What are you doing?” You squeak.

“For your Instagram,” he smiles, “I’ll send you the pics…” he frames his phone with both hands as he admires the screen, “you look so cute.”

You shudder and grip the knife and fork tight. You look back to the stack. You think you’ll ask for it to go. If you eat any more, you’re definitely going to be sick.

[binniesbooks]

hi fayebae, imma send these before i go for my hiatus again(im not sure if you alr have smth planned for tyun n hyuka! cos i know u have a yj fic thats coming soon, so ill send these in for them)

was thinking of tyun x reader for this

uk the series “academy reincarnation”!! There was a salsa dance ep! I was thinking that reader decided to sign up to the salsa academy where tyun is one of the instructors?/student! reader wanted to learn salsa for the longest time but has always been afraid to as one would usually need to dance in pairs. afraid of having any physical contact with any stranger(due to a trauma she formed from a relationship), even tho it was difficult, reader eventually let down her walls with tyun as the many practice sessions go by, she finds herself now looking forward to salsa practices as thats the only time she can see tyun! And she craves his touch. During one of the practices, they got so lost in the dance that their faces ended up really close to each other! Tension arises(she wants him, he wants her, dare i say more 🤭smut of course!) [didnt wanna write too much to allow ur creative freedom!!]

i hope this is good gah(just thought i should send smth in for the other members too hehe, pls dont put aside ur wip again!! Do this after ure done w ur yj one gah) love u my soobie fav boobie💗

TENDER TOUCH

TH 002 .F22 2024

wc 5.3k

pairings gentle!Taehyun x abused!reader

warnings physical and sexual abuse, traumatic experience, traumatized reader, protected sex, abusive ex-boyfriend (idk what else did I miss)

faye's note *insert: Taehyun's 어디 있지 (where am I) in boba😳* as promised, here's my second fic for the day! this is my first Taehyun fic and I'm fucking obsessed that it got up to 5.3k words, wth. Anyways, @inkigayocamman I know you requested a Tae fic, but here's another one for u to enjoy I guess while I'm still working on it. 🙂‍↕️ I hope you like this too! And ofc, to my one and only Beomgyu's kitten, I love your brain, it's so sexy omfg. I'm totally sat. Plus yeah, the yj fic is still on the line. 🤣 Anyway, I did a few research(again) for this fic, so I hope it turned out good, fingers crossed!

Edit: Thanks for proofreading the whole ass fic @babymochibeargyu I'm dead now. 😭😂 luv uuuu 😖💓

"Learn how to dance Salsa, we offer multiple dance forms for beginners to professionals. Come join us..." You mumbled reading the flyer your friend handed you.

"Jia, you know I can't do anything like this anymore." You sighed as you handed her back the flyer.

"I know, I know, it's because of your trauma, right? But maybe this is the way that can only help you overcome that trauma," She started, "I'm worried about you taking this class but I'm more worried about you carrying that trauma all throughout your life." Jia gently holds your hand, still careful not to scare you with the skin contact.

You're lost in your thought for a while thinking if you can really let go of your trauma after all this time. It's been so long since you haven't engaged in any relationship after your last one.

"I-I'll think about it." You sighed, you really wanted to be free but you just didn't know how to start. "Please do, I really wanted to help you." Jia's eyes are full of worry, sadness and guilt. Because it's been so long yet she can't do anything to help.

You've always been wanting to learn how to dance Salsa. It's like your little dream ever since, however, your boyfriend from your last relationship did not even want you to be touched nor be grazed by any man's skin. You insisted you could just pair with a girl but he threatened you to hurt anyone who will be around you if you kept on insisting to register for the dance class. You ended up not registering for the class and burying your little dance dream into the depths of your heart.

The following week, you found yourself standing in front of the dance academy building. Breathing slowly, thinking deeply whether you really want to do it or not. You were clutching on the flyer tightly. Your knees fell weak as you stumbled down, retreating all the way to the confinement of your apartment to hide from the world.

It took so much courage for you to do this. Especially when you ended up trying once again a week later. You're standing in the front of the building, staring at the swaying banner of the academy with a "SALSA DANCE ACADEMY" written on it.

You softly knocked on the door before opening it. "Hi! Come in! How may I help you?" You were greeted with s young lady, clad in a salsa dance costume. She looks bright and bubbly.

"I.. Uhm.. wanted to register for the class." You meekly answered as you slid down on the chair. "May I know your name?" The lady picked up the pen on the table and grabbed a file.

"Y/n...y/n s/n." You silently answered.

"What class would you like to be included in?" The lady's smile never faltered. Her bright aura makes you feel comfortable for a bit. "What do you offer?" You asked back.

"Well, we have group sessions and we also have one-on-one lessons," you nodded at her, signaling her to keep going. "In group sessions, there will be 15 pairs -- 30 individuals in a class, plus the 2 dance instructors," you felt pressured with just the thought of being included in the group. "In the one-on-one class, we will find you a pair if you still have none, or you can bring one, and then also a pair of instructors," she explained.

"I'll take the latter."

"Please sign here and we'll wait for another one to sign up." She smiled again at you. You were thinking of bringing your friend to the class.

"By any chance, can I bring a girl for the one-on-one class?" Her expression suddenly turned sad, "I'm afraid we are only taking a man and a woman as a pair for the one-on-one class. Usually, the pairs who sign up for the one-on-one class end up acquiring advanced skills than those who are in the group."

You thought of backing out once again but you shook your head to clear your mind. You're already here, you're already a step closer to the most awaited time of your life: to let go of your trauma.

"We'll call you once we receive another sign-up for a one-on-one class. Thank you for dropping by." The lady waved her hand as you stepped outside.

You shrunk to the corner of the door, people are looking at you but you're too occupied to even give a damn.

It's been a week. You didn't know how to explain how you felt. Half of you felt happy that you hadn't received a call yet, because that would only means you didn't have to do it anymore and there wouldn't be anymore skin contact for you to trigger your trauma. However, the other half of you felt disappointed. You would have been lying if you said that you didn't get your hopes up, thinking that this would be the way to be finally free from your trauma.

"Still haven't received a call?" Your friend placed the pizza she brought on your coffee table. Today was the day she would usually pay you a visit to your apartment. She started doing this from 2 years ago, when you and your ex-boyfriend finally broke up.

You hummed in response as you dug out the box of pizza. Nevertheless, you don't want to bring your thoughts about the dance academy again.

A couple of minutes passed when your phone rang, causing both your heads to look towards your phone

"Hello?"

"Hi! Can I talk to Ms. Y/n s/n?" The voice over the line spoke brightly.

"Y/n speaking." You just answered back, looking at your friend who's anticipating a piece of good news.

"We just want to inform you that someone already signed up for the one-on-one class as your pair. The class will start this Monday, are you fine with it?" Your friend sighed in relief as soon as she heard it.

"O-okay. Sure." You felt a rush of anxiety travel throughout your body, as your fingers trembled hanging up the call.

"Hey, it's okay." Your friend wrapped the thick blanket around your shoulders before hugging you. Afraid that she might trigger your trauma. "You'll be fine." She tries to calm you down by rubbing your back.

2 days passed by quickly. Enough to make you coil up in bed instead of getting up. Your phone vibrates from an incoming message.

Dearest Jia: Take care later, okay? I know you can do it. I won't be able to go because of work, so I hope you understand:< but I'll pick you up when you're done! <3

You: I don't feel like going.

Dearest Jia: Noooo! You've come this far. You should go, I know you can do this!

You: Fine, I'll text you when I'm done with the class.

You tossed your phone on the bed as you grunt into your pillow. You're just glad your dance class starts at 3 in the afternoon. You still had a lot of time to prepare your body and mind.

Quarter to 3, you're already in front of the building, a few people going in at the same time. Probably for the group session. You wanted to go home but the lady called you out.

"Y/n! Please come in. I'll accompany you to the assigned room. I'm Daeun, btw." She extended her hand to you but you froze. You're too afraid. But someone else caught Daeun's hand. "I'm Taehyun, the one who signed up for the pair." A tall guy appeared on your side, shaking her hand. "I-i'm y/n." You meekly introduced yourself without touching any of them. The lady looked confused at first but she shrugged it off.

"Okay, I'll leave you two here, Mr. and Mrs. Hwang are inside already."

Taehyun pushed the door open, you were both greeted with a polished wooden floor and mirror walls in the wide room. Two people were sitting in the corner. They must be your instructors.

"Please come in!" The lady waved at the both of you.

"Do you know each other?" The man asked which the both of you only answered by shaking your head.

"I think we should start our class with an introduction. Don't you think?" The lady nodded.

"I'm Mr. Hwang and this is Mrs. Hwang. She's my wife and we mainly teach one-on-one classes. You are?" They turn their gaze to Taehyun.

"My name is Kang Taehyun. I also dance but not in this genre. So I wanted to learn this." They then looked at you.

"I... I am y/n. I signed up for the class t-to overcome my t-rauma." Your words are slurred, and your reason made your instructors gasp. "I-I used to be in a r-relationship. And t-they're the reason why I can't e-even touch people or let other p- people t-touch me." You bit your lip as you look up at them.

"Honey, but I'm afraid this dance requires a lot of holding and touching, what should we do?" Mrs. Hwang clasped both of her hands on her mouth as she turned a bit emotional.

"By any chance, can you hold someone when there's a barrier between them? Like, there is no direct skin-to-skin contact?" Taehyun spoke up, you nodded lightly at him. "It's been two years so I think I can tolerate it to an extent."

"Then I think we're good Mrs. Hwang. I'm thinking of using a glove or something. If that's what makes her comfortable. I don't mind at all." Taehyun remarked.

Taehyun ended up wearing gloves for your dance class. And as much as possible, he's avoiding any of your exposed body parts. He's also lightly touching you that you feel as though it's just air grazing your body.

So far so good, the 3-hour class ended up okay. Jia picked you up 30 minutes later after you texted her that you were done.

Your dance class went well the next day. And the day after that. And the following days after that. Days became weeks, weeks became months. It's all going well, with Taehyun's careful assistance over you.

Today was the day you decided to step further to your goal.

"Taehyun, I think we can now stop using the gloves. We've been dancing for a month now and I hate it whenever I think about the gloves. It feels like I'm being disgusted by you or something." You stated to Taehyun once the two of you were on a quick break. Within one month, you grew closer to Taehyun. The quick breaks were your time to tell stories to each other.

"Are you sure? You're not making me feel like any of that, by the way. But are you sure you can do it now?" His eyes seek yours. You simply nodded as you removed your jacket leaving you with your t-shirt on.

"Are you two, okay? Shall we continue?" Your dance instructor asked, checking on you, as you and Taehyun stood up. Taehyun discarded the gloves he was using on top of his bag as he folded his long-sleeved t-shirt up to his elbow.

You started off well. Taehyun holding your hand as gently as he could as usual. Letting you turn around with some quick footwork. It was all good actually, until he needed to lean in, holding your waist and your thigh. One more turn, his arms and fingers graze through your arms. His delicate fingers holding your waist once again. A quick turnaround. A step faster. A more closer proximity.

"You fucker! Come back here! I know what you did!"

"S-stop! We're already over Han!" You squealed as you blocked the door with your body.

"You're fucking dead meat when this door opens!"

Your tears wouldn't stop flowing from your cheeks as you kept your body pressed on the banging door. Han has been your boyfriend for 9 months now. At first, he was so good to you, treating you like the princess you deserved to be. But it was too good to be true that you started to feel it was wrong. Just 2 months ago he started hurting you physically and abusing you sexually. He was too obsessed with you too that he sometimes he would start locking you up in your apartment. Even your requests got declined. At first, you let it pass as you thought it was normal. But you started earning bruises and wounds. You barely ate, barely drank, you even barely slept. You would often get fevers too. The slightest noise would make your soul jump out and the slightest movement would make you flinch.

Jia, your friend, was the one who advised you to report him. So you did, that was why he was here banging at your door.

Han's voice can no longer be heard, hence you decided to quickly hide in your closet, as you dug out your spare phone you had hidden to contact your friend.

You quickly called Jia, telling her to call the police or something but you were cut off when the door bursts open. Han was holding a gun and laughing hysterically.

"Fuck you, you bitch! You're really dead!" You quickly covered your mouth.

"Come out, kitten. Come out from wherever the fuck you're hiding!" His voice echoed through the room drowning your quiet sobs.

That's when he forcefully opened the closet you're hiding. "Ohhh, you look so scared kitten, why?" He cooed at you as his lips stretched to form a mocking grin. "Move to the bed!" You shook your head. "Fucking move to the bed!" He fired a warning shot at the mirror, crashing it. You yelped at the noise. With your trembling body, you quickly scrambled your way to the bed covering your bruised-up body.

"Strip." He commanded as he pointed the gun at you. With no choice left, and your life at stake, you did what he ordered.

He crashed his lips on yours harshly. When he noticed you didn't kiss him back, he slapped you. Blood flowed through your lips as you choked on your sobs. With the gun still pointed at your head, he started harassing you again. His hand left a bruised mark on your neck as he tightly squeezes it. You could almost see the white light as your weak body just let him do anything. There was no use thrashing around as if you had accepted your dying fate.

"Freeze!" Was the only thing you heard before everything around you went black.

You opened your eyes inside the hospital, pulled every apparatus attached to your body and started screaming. It made Jia scream out and call for a doctor. They couldn't calm you down so they needed to give you a shot for temporary sleep.

Everything came swirling back to you. Pushing Taehyun away, causing your body to crash on the wooden floor. "Shit!" Taehyun cursed under his breath as he hurriedly pushed back his sleeves and wore the gloves again, picking up your jacket at the same time, before coming back to you. Your instructors let out a shock gasp as they also rushed over to you.

"Please grab a blanket or any thick clothing!" Taehyun shouts as he tries to ease you by covering your shoulder with your jacket.

Mr. Hwang passed Taehyun his padded jacket he always brought with him. Taehyun carefully wrapped the thick jacket around your body. He holds your face as he tries to soothe you.

"Y/n, look at me, please look at me." Sweat started to form on his forehead as tears freely flowed down your cheeks. "Please, look at me, and breathe slowly. Breathe slowly. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale." Taehyun guided your breathing as his glove-cladded hands rubbed your cheeks.

Mrs. Hwang was panicking but Mr. Hwang tried to calm her down before he went out to grab a glass of water.

Your heartbeat slowed down for at least a bit. Taehyun guiding you helped somehow as you slowly calmed down. Taehyun got the water from Mr. Hwang and held it in front of you as he let you sip on the water slowly.

"Are you feeling okay now?" Taehyun tucked your sweaty hair behind your ears. His eyes were full of worry. "Do you wanna go home and rest?" He's still carefully rubbing your shoulder. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have removed the gloves. That was too risky." Taehyun mumbled as he hesitated to hold your hand.

That same afternoon, he called your friend over. He introduced himself and explained the situation. He let your friend take you home as he bid you two goodbye. You're lucky it was Friday at that time so you don't have to worry about waking up the next morning to go to your dance class. For the next two days, you spent it caving in your room. It helped you calm down.

Monday. You opened the door. You laughed at the scene in front of your eyes.

"What's that?" You chuckled as you placed your bag on the corner. Taehyun looks at himself in the mirror. He's totally covered. He's wearing a thicker glove and a padded jacket. His usual dress pants are now sweats. He's even wearing a mask. He scratched the back of his head.

"Pft. That's too much. Don't worry I'm fine now. Thank you by the way." You smiled at him.

"Are you sure? Because that scared me. I don't know what to do." He removed his jacket along with the face mask and the thick gloves.

"Mhm, I'm sure." You assured him.

"Okay then. We'll try again. Slowly this time." His eyes are full of concern as he looks at you. You smiled at him as you accepted his hand.

For another month, Taehyun tried to connect with you. Stopping whenever needed. Wearing the things he needs to wear whenever he can sense your anxiety rising. For once, you realize how he gently holds you. How he's always careful with you, treating you like a fragile glass that would easily break if you weren't handled correctly. One month passed without much problem. If anything, you're actually growing accustomed to it.

For some reason, you learned to feel comfortable with Taehyun's touch. The graze of his skin, his fingers, and his touch never terrified you anymore, and his existence no longer made you panic.

Now, he's solely the reason why you're still attending your dance class. You're slowly putting your trust in him. You're slowly putting your walls down. He can now hold your hand without fear. He can now dance without thinking that you would startled. He slowly introduced you to the steps that requires your body to be closer. Teaching you how the steps are supposed to be done. You're no longer panicking. Even when your face is just only few inches from him, you were actually smiling at each other. You no longer feared his touch. If anything, he's only leaving you all tingly with his warm skin.

You could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Whenever you leaned on his chest, it made your heart flutter. His breath on your shoulder, your neck, any part of your body makes the knot in your stomach twist tighter.

You're slowly craving for his touch. For how he cares for you, for how he tends to you. Whenever you're home, he keeps popping into your head. How his sharky smile appears whenever he's happy. The small noises he made. His cat-like attitude. He's the perfect example of hot, sexy and cute.

Every last week of the month, you would have all the time to yourselves to gather all your skills acquired. Because every once a month, you had to show what you have learnt in class. This now left the two of you alone in the dance studio. Perfecting every step and move you needed to show on evaluation day.

Taehyun's lingering touches left you all tingly. His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. His breath alone makes your mind go in a twist.

"One step back, two steps to the front... One turn and... Lean you down." He's matching his words on every beat of the step. You thought it only happens in a fantasy world. But it was like the world stopped when his eyes were fixed on yours. His steady breath makes you hold yours. His eyes traveled down to your lips as he gulped. He mumbles a soft "You're pretty," before pulling you back to stand on both your feet.

His hands are both on your face as he slowly backs you to the mirror. His breath is unsteady and warm. The moment he got you pressed on the mirror, he leaned his forehead on yours as he closed his eyes.

"You're really pretty. So pretty I'm afraid I can't control myself." He whispered. Your hands were on his chest, you felt how his heart was thumping so hard.

"S-should we head out early?" You whispered, your hot puffs of breath touching his lips got him reeling as he cursed under his breath.

He quickly pulls away, holds your hand and grabs both of your bags. Both heading outside to his car. "Tell your friend I'm taking you home instead." The air in the car throughout the drive was so thick. His hands were gripping on the wheels, tapping impatiently when the road slowed down.

"Calm down, Tae, I'm not going anywhere." You chuckled as you placed your hand above his when it was resting on the gear shift. He throws a quick glance at you. He bit his lip as a flush crept up on his cheeks.

The drive was short, but Taehyun's action made it look like it was not. He hurriedly got out of his car, running over to your side to open the door for you as he held your hand. His jittery steps were heavy as you both made your way to his humble home.

"Come in." He nervously spoke as he placed his shoe on the rack, switching the light on in the process.

"D-do you want a drink or something?" He was almost running towards the kitchen.

You flop on his couch, making yourself comfortable at some point. "Come here, instead," you chuckled, "You're so anxious for no reason, Taehyun." He sat down beside you, wiping his sweaty palms on his dress pants as he sighed. You scoot over, holding his face, lips just a few inches apart.

"Wait," he pushed you a bit, "a-are you sure about this?" You nodded and smiled at him. "G-give me a minute." He rummaged through his back pocket pulling a handkerchief. You looked at him confused.

He unfolded the handkerchief and gently placed the thin fabric on your lips before crashing his lips on yours. He holds your nape as he climbs up on the couch. He slowly laid you down. Lips unmoving, yet it feels so hot. His lips were just merely pressed on yours with the fabric separating both of your soft skin.

He pulled away, kissing your forehead. "I'm sorry." He whispered as if he was the one who did you wrong. You gently pull the handkerchief away as you tangle your fingers in his hair. Taehyun never failed to take care of you in the most gentle way possible. He's not thinking of his pleasure at this point. He's thinking about you. To the point that he even thought of putting a piece of cloth between your lips just to be able to kiss you.

You wanted to cry at how he's taking care of you. Your eyes welled up with tears as you pulled him back. "I'm good now Tae, thank you for taking care of me. There's no need for the hanky." You whispered before your tears rolled down your cheeks as you kissed him, bare.

He's a gentleman. He's too good to be true. But you let your walls fall down and let him enter. You let him protect you instead. But his hungry kiss spoke thousands of emotions. His kisses travel down to your neck.

"Taehyun..." You whimpered as you gripped his hair.

"A bit more... Just a bit more..." He started sucking and biting your neck and shoulder, leaving splotchy red marks. He pulls away for a while, enough time to tug your shirt off your body.

His fingers slowly traced every scar you have on your body. The marks on your chest from the bottle Han once threw at you. The cigarette burns on your stomach. He also pulled down your skirts only to see stitches from your thighs. You got this when Han pushed you down the stairs. His finger draws back to your lips. The scar from the cut when he slapped you is still visible.

You covered your face out of embarrassment. You no longer look pretty with your all bruised-up body. "We can't do this here." Taehyun got up and carried you all the way to his bedroom. He laid you carefully as ever in his bedroom.

The bed dips down at his weight as he kneels between your legs. His head dips down to kiss every scar you have on your delicate body as if he's kissing your trauma away. He took his precious time. Not wanting to scare or startle you at any point. His actions are being done with all tenderness.

"Do you still want me to continue?" He asks when he hovers above your body, his elbows on both sides of your head. "I want you Taehyun, please do..." You whined biting your lip. "How can I say no when you say it like that, sweetheart." He sighed leaning his forehead on yours again. Your arms crawled under his shirt, feeling his toned body hiding beneath the soft cotton shirt he was wearing. "C-can you take it off? I feel so exposed." You mumbled as you tugged his shirt. "Ah, shit, I'm sorry." He quickly backed up to discard his shirt on the floor.

You stared at him when he was all fours above you. His body is totally toned. You can clearly see the firm muscles on his arms. His buff chest and his perfectly defined abs. "Touch me. I won't stop you. Touch me so you won't feel embarrassed anymore. Touch me so you won't feel as if I'm taking advantage of you. Touch me so you won't feel scared." He grabbed one of your hands and placed it on his chest, slowly dragging it down to his abs.

When he lets go of your hands, you continue to drag them down to the waistband of his dress pants. "C-continue..." His eyes were shut close, his lips trapped between his teeth. You can clearly see his abs tightening as he clenches with the graze of your finger on his waist. He gulps when you hook your finger inside. You unhooked the clip that's binding his pants and pulled the zipper down. His breathing hitched at the lingering touches you're leaving on his lower body.

You gently stroked him as you looked for his eyes. His lips were swollen at how he was biting it. "You won't let it out?" You tried taunting him. "Fuck..." He lets go of his long-held breath, hissing through his teeth. "Y-you're making me crazy, sweetheart... You're totally making me crazy..." He huffed as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Condom?" You asked. He reached into the small drawer just beside your head, pulling out a packet of condoms. "D'you wanna p-put it in f'me?" His words were short, and he was catching his breath. You gently rubbed the head of his cock as you rip the packet with your teeth.

"S-sweetheart, you're... Shit... You're k-killing me." He shuddered when you pressed at his slit, his jaw clenched tightly, his hand grasping the sheets.

You slowly drag your fingers on his cock as you wrapped it with the condom. "T-take your time... I w-won't do anything to hurt you or...ahh... or m-make you s-scared of me." He's struggling to hold back but he's doing his best. As soon as you were done, you tangled your fingers on his again, pulling him for a kiss. A kiss full of care. Gentle. Delicate. Sweet.

He pulls away, caressing your face once more. He pulls your underwear in one swift motion as he lines himself up on you, slowly pushing in. He continuously soothes you by rubbing his thumb on your cheek. "Don't be scared, hm? I'm here. It's just me..." He keeps on mumbling, repeating the same phrase as you nod back at him.

Once he has bottomed out inside you, he stays still as he continues to plant soft kisses on your face. You were tearing up not because of the trauma anymore, but because of the love and care he's showing you.

He unhooked your bra as he gently groped your breast, his fingers flicked on your nipple as he suck on the other. "Mmm..." You whimpered underneath his big body squirming at how his tongue danced on your nipple. He didn't take long, afraid that he might hurt or trigger your trauma.

"C-can I move now? I might end up c-cumming now. You've been clenching f-for some time..." He muttered under his breath. You nodded and covered your face again.

He pulled both of your hands and intertwined your fingers with him above your head. "Please don't cover your face. You're beautiful. You're still pretty even with your scars. You're still gorgeous even with your fear and trauma. Please... Just let me take care of you. I know it'll be hard for you, but I promise. I promise to hold you dearly and cherish you." His eyes were looking for answers.

"Taehyun... Please... Please take care of me from now on. Please hold me when I feel scared... Make me feel loved..." Your silent weeps were drowned as he kissed your nose. "I'll be your peace, sweetheart." He wiped your tears as he slowly thrusts in you.

"I... I promise to hold you as gently as I can... But... I think I might end up g-going hard right n-now." He buried his face in the crook of your neck.

Your arms reached over his back as your nails dug and dragged over his bare back. "T-Taehyun..." You moaned out his name as you writhed in pleasure beneath him. The slow thrust becomes a little bit more sloppy. The skin slapping echoed through the solitude of his room.

"Fuck. Please forgive me if e-end up going t-too hard. But I promise to d-do my best to hold b-back." He grunted as his thrust went harder. You shook your head wanting him to go harder.

"I-i can't hurt you... I w-won't..." He steadies the way he thrusts inside you making the knot on your stomach tighten as you feel your high just around the corner.

You held him as if your life depended on him, "Taehyun... I'm close." "D-do it, sweetheart. I'm g-gonna cum any m-minute." He pressed his lips on you to drown your moans as you both came. He rubbed your waist as he soothed you before pulling out. Tying the condom and disposing it in the bin, zipping up his pants at the same time.

He bends down to kiss your forehead as he grabs a pack of wet wipes cleaning you up. He picked up his shirt and made you wear it. He finally laid beside you as he pulled you on his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" He checks on you, to which you replied by shaking your head and a smile. "Sorry for going too hard, I did my best to hold back," he mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. "I'm okay Taehyun. Thank you so much." Your eyes finally close as his warmth embraces you. He hums while still hugging you close to him.

"Please rest now, sweetheart. When you wake up, you no longer have to suffer anymore. You're safe with me. You're finally safe with me."

@binniesbooks 2024

[mageofseven]

How about a reader that was pregnant when they were chosen as an exchange student ? Like the baby's father is not in the picture and reader *isn't* involved with boys romantically and when the boys discover readers pregnant after lesson 16 they're just "oh Shi-"

This is an old ask from before my long ass hiatus, but I'm honestly still really interested in this.

Okay so here's some set up info for how Imma do this:

MC knew she was pregnant, but was so overwhelmed about it that she welcomed the fact that she was magically kidnapped into going to demon school and that she had something to distract herself from the literal growing problem in her uterus.

The baby was also transfered to the new body after what Belphie did to her.

Like it was requested, MC is not currently dating any of the Boys.

They found out because they had her get checked by a doctor despite Barbatos making sure she was okay with his time power; this was mostly done out of over-protectiveness and no one actually thought anything would come of it.

I don't do reader posts so obviously this will be MC.

Now that that's out of the way, let's give this a go!

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Lucifer:

Is visibly shocked by this and has MC explain herself.

When he hears how her boyfriend knocked her up and abandoned her not long before she was brought to the Devildom, the pride demon makes a mental note to ask her for the man's name at another time so he can handle that little pest.

Feels terrible guilty about what she went through and even worse that she went through it while pregnant.

I see Lucifer as this heavily anxious man with a soft spot for kids and that includes babies that are works-in-progress (WIP).

Hovers around her constantly after that, making sure she taking every vitamin and supplement she and her child needs.

Just becomes super protective of her while also trying to pretend he's not.

Eventually takes her off of cooking duty so she'll have one less thing to worry about.

Despite not being the father or having such a relationship with her, he takes full responsibility for all aspects of this from teleporting her here while pregnant to Belphie offing both her and her child in her last body.

Doesn't go as far as to call himself this child's father, but anyone who saw this man hovering over her would definitely think he was.

Like always, Lucifer just wants to take care of his family and now sees MC and her child as such.

Mammon:

Literally freaks out while trying to pretend he isn't.

To him, her being pregnant just made this whole situation 1000000x worse.

Feels bad that he didn't know about her kid.

Like, he's the brother whose been by her side the most and he never even noticed anything was off with her.

He's not the most observant man so I'm not surprised.

He's her First! She should have just told him, or so he tells her.

Keeps an extra close eye on her to keep this crazy freaking human from doing anything bad for herself or her kid

And let's face it, she literally got herself killed not long ago so anything can happen.

The further her pregnancy gets, the more this man tries to keep his brothers away from her.

He just extra possessive as time goes on.

I mean yeah, this kid ain't his but he wishes it was so freaking much but he's still gonna look after the two of them.

Honestly, this man wouldn't be able to handle a single other bad thing happening to his Human.

Leviathan:

Ohmanohmanohman--

Is really freaking out and doesn't even try to hide it.

I mean this is serious!

Not only did MC die but so did her WIP kid????

I mean yeah, they are both back but this all still sucks.

You know the phrase 'kicking a person while they're down'? Well this is like using a freaking flamethrower while the human was already down!

Honestly becomes super awkward with his Henry after learning about her pregnancy

But slowly gets used to it as he discovers that MC just wants him to treat her as he always has.

Yeah! He can do that!...kinda.

He feels bad that he can't help her through most of it.

This man knows absolutely nothing about pregnancy and feels like he is mediocre at comforting people at best.

Still, if she ever needs someone to distract her with anime so she doesn't have to think of the little WIP in her uterus then Levi is her man.

Satan:

Honestly...this man is less than thrilled.

MC is the first person he's ever truly gotten close to and that includes his 'brothers'

So to hear that the person he cares about most is pregnant...

Well on the plus side, he knows there's a human man in the other realm for him to torture so that makes him feel better.

Doesn't like kids, but is at MC's side as much as possible.

One of the brothers willing to hold her hair back during bouts of morning sickness.

Not one to hover, but does get a little protective when Belphie is in the same room as her.

Knows the Avatar of Sloth won't hurt her anymore but...well, he still can't get the image of MC's dead body out of his head

And angy boy is still angy at him for it.

Other than that, he reads a shit ton of pregnancy books to learn what MC's body is going through and different methods to comfort her through it.

Asmodeus:

Honestly, this usually chatty brother was speechless when it was announced.

When he saw all eyes fall on the human and make her overwhelmed, he ran to his friend and hugged her tightly.

Was the one to hype up the other guys and get everyone to say they'll take care of her and that they have her back

Because honestly, this woman and her child literally died for his family; you can bet your ass he's going to make sure each and every one of his brothers does their part in taking care of the pregnant human.

Doesn't immediately think about killing the runaway baby daddy, but if it becomes a family field trip to hunt the bastard and kill him, Asmo is so down for it.

Mostly focuses on what he can do for MC in the moment though.

Another brother to comfort her during morning sickness.

It's gross af but he uses it to remind his brothers that hey! I'm getting close to a vomiting woman each morning so y'all better be as dedicated to the cause as I am.

Beelzebub:

This man literally did nothing wrong, but acts as if it's all his fault.

So much happened in his family right under his nose and things led to such extremes that his twin literally killed this woman and her child.

More or less feels like he needs to step up and pay atonement for what his twin did

And is probably the brother who takes care of her the most.

This situation has shown how much he actually wants to be a parent one day

And literally asks MC later in her pregnancy if he can be her baby's daddy

He doesn't care about genetics at all, just wants MC to let him help her raise the child and make him a daddy 🥺

Literally the sweetest man to ever exist.

MC would be a fool not to accept.

Belphegor:

Probably the guiltiest of all of the men.

I mean, he did it. He killed MC and relished in it.

Granted, he didn't know she was carrying a little hitchhiker, but still.

Belphie lost himself in his pain to such a strong degree that...he wonders that even if he did know...would he have been able to stop himself from doing what he did

And honestly, the fact that he doesn't know scares the hell out of him.

Avoids MC for the first couple months of her pregnancy because honestly, he feels too guilty to even look at her

And... honestly, he doesn't know if he even trusts himself around her.

Thanks to Beel's encouragement, the sloth demon slowly finds himself interacting with the pregnant human

And eventually decides that the best way to atone for what he did (if it's even possible) is to take care of her and the kid the best he can.

He doesn't like kids and just sees pregnancy as unnecessary torture for people with uteruses

But honestly, none of that matters anymore.

He may not have been the one to knock the woman up, but he did fuck up the worst out of everyone in this situation.

Will feel better whenever the family hunting party starts and he can give that pathetic man a taste of what he deserves.

Looks like it's Human Season for this hunting demon.

Diavolo:

Also a man with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Other than the actual process of making the baby, everything that happened was either because of something he directly or indirectly did to start up the exchange program.

Also regrets not having regular check ups on his exchange students because surely they all would have discovered this sooner and prevented anything from happening to the pregnant woman.

Has regular doctor visits scheduled for MC to make sure she and her baby stay healthy and pays for all of it, including any medications she may need during this progress.

Pregnancy can be really fucking expensive, but the prince makes sure she never has to worry about that side of things.

Just focus on staying healthy and letting your baby grow, MC; he and the other men will handle everything else.

Barbatos:

Knew before everyone else did.

I mean, this man literally had to make sure the baby transfered over too.

This man is seriously a hero that doesn't get the credit he deserves nor does he seek such.

MC and her baby are safe now and that's all that matters to the butler.

Honestly frets over the woman on the inside, but shows no sign of it externally.

Is the man that takes her to all her doctors appointments and was there when she discovered the gender of her baby.

Congratulated her as she sobbed happy tears and was honestly grateful that he could share such a moment with her.

Honestly becomed really attached to MC during her pregnancy and looks forward to watching her child grow up.

Solomon:

Honestly, his intuition had been tingling for a while on this subject.

He suspected this pregnancy, but figured it was none of his business and didn't want to pry into the fellow human's personal life.

If he would have known such an event would happen with Belphie though, he would have stepped in and got answers.

He didn't though. The sorcerer had no clue how events were going to unfold.

Hindsight is telling him that he should have pryed more, but his manners told him it was right to respect the woman's privacy.

Doesn't do too much in regards to taking care of his friend since the demons seem to have it all covered and even seem to somewhat resent the sorcerer when he tries.

Believe it's better not to step on any toes, so to speak.

Is still a good friend to MC though and always offers an ear if they need to vent about the process with someone.

Simeon:

This all happened before the pregnancy had progressed enough for him to sense the baby.

He did however sense...something within the human since he met her, but didn't understand what.

Hindsight is really hurting this poor angel's heart 😔

Become the woman's biggest support in an emotional sense.

Pregnancy is hard and hormones flare and everything can seem so stressful, especially to a scared single mom.

This man is often the one comforting her when she breaks down into tears, even when it's over small stuff like someone ate the last cookie or she lost her pen.

He makes sure MC knows how strong she is and that she will make it through this this difficult time.

Luke:

Demons!!! Back away from the pregnant woman or this chihuahua will bite.

Okay, not really, but the brothers make this joke a lot.

Luke is very protective of MC in this situation.

Since he is just a child, he wasn't told what happened between her and Belphie in complete detail.

Really just thinks the stupid demon hurt her feelings and the angelic boy will not allow it to happen again!

Grows increasingly curious as MC's belly grows; angels don't have kids in this way so this boy has a lot of questions about what's happening to her body.

The fact that there's an actual baby just chilling and growing in her belly boggles this boy's mind.

Is honestly excited for MC's baby and feels like he about to be come a big brother!

This boy is determined to do his part and take care of her just like the adults do.

Mostly just keeps her company and bakes for her when her cravings give her a sweet tooth.

Little Lukey keeps her spirits up and MC loves him for it.

[shootingstarpilot]

☔

for the wip ask game!

ask game

my FAVE <333

ok so this is a fic i might actually write at some point, because i have Feelings about the jedi being a family and anakin's apparent insistence that biological ties overrule all.

(also mace is still obi-wan's finder in this because I LOVE HIM)

so. obi-wan's from stewjon. we know very little about stewjon canonically, so for the sake of this fic, it's an isolationist planet that is extremely hostile to force-sensitives. mace rescued toddler obi-wan from an attempt by town elders to drown him. obi-wan's the only stewjoni jedi in the order. they don't know if this is because stewjon doesn't have a high percentage of force-sensitives or if it's because those who are born force-sensitive don't usually make it off the planet.

but mace has his suspicions.

which is why he's really, really not pleased when the senate forwards orders a request for a jedi to wrangle separatist sentiment on stewjon. they will only accept a stewjoni jedi. if they must have one of those demons on planet, then they want someone who's at least tentatively connected to the planet. it's meant to be a diplomatic mission. but it's one of those diplomatic missions that seems like it will end in blasterfire.

so both the 501st and 212th both end up heading to stewjon.

cody and the 212th are slightly twitchy. their general has a really bad habit of getting kidnapped / horrifically injured / running off so they can't watch his back, and he's told them about stewjon and his particular background with the planet, so they're... hm. ready for anything.

(also ofc this is codywan because i am who i am.)

anakin is a whole other story.

he is simply thrilled, and he makes no secret of it. he can't wait to meet obi-wan's real family, he keeps saying. wonder if they're as stubborn as you, right, obi-wan? is this where you got your love of tea from? i can't wait to meet your real parents, obi-wan- do you have siblings, do you know?

obi-wan, meanwhile-

i don't know if they're stubborn, he says. i don't remember them.

i got my love of tea from master qui-gon, he says. he taught me how to brew and how long to steep and brought me to the best shops on the lower levels.

i do have siblings, he says. you've met them. you've met quinlan and bant and luminara and-

anakin won't hear it.

ahsoka starts spending more time around obi-wan. she asks him more questions about his padawanship. about master qui-gon. about his crechemates. all in an effort to ease some of the tension from his shoulders. and it works! he tells her, and anyone else who wants to listen, and the room is filled with disbelieving laughter and i have to ask general vos for pictures, sir, i won't believe this without proof-

and then they arrive on stewjon.

blah blah plot happens, anakin is stubbornly ignoring everything obi-wan says about the jedi being his family because, well, of course he would say that, he doesn't know what it's like to have a proper family, a real family-

then, a few days after their arrival, an elderly couple approach anakin.

they're obi-wan's parents, they tell him. they've been looking for him for ages. he clearly loves you, young man- well, as much as he can, we know what those jedi are like- could you please help us set up a meeting with him?

and anakin thinks-

i knew it.

of COURSE they were looking for him. of COURSE they still wanted him, of COURSE they still loved him- obi-wan simply didn't know, or maybe he'd been misinformed, but no one should ever have to live without the love of a parent-

so he says yes.

when he brings the matter up to obi-wan, obi-wan tells him absolutely not.

(but obviously, obviously, he just doesn't know-)

so he sets up a meeting anyway. lies to obi-wan, lies to the others, and tells the parents the truth. they clasp his hands, teary-eyed with gratitude- thank you, thank you, they tell him, we just want our son back, and anakin walks away feeling so supremely pleased with himself-

a couple of hours later, cody asks him if he's seen obi-wan.

he's not picking up his comm, cody says, brow furrowed. we'll be late for the next meeting.

anakin tells him, then. reassures him. leave them alone for a bit, will you? they haven't spoken to each other in years. it's bound to be emotional.

cody stares at him.

yes, sir, he says. of course, sir.

anakin claps him on the shoulder and walks off. cody watches him go.

then he turns around and breaks into a run.

the room is empty, when he arrives, and there are broken needles on the floor.

cody doesn't need to have them tested to know he'll find traces of force suppressants.

(like poison, his general had told him, and being blinded all at once. like having your heart torn clean out of your chest.)

he has them tested anyway.

he's right.

cody, technically, outranks general skywalker. this is the first time he's ever taken advantage of the fact.

stuff happens. they find him. he is...

Not In Good Shape.

(the demon must be torn out by force. drowned out. beaten out. they only wanted their son back.)

do you understand? they cry, as troopers force them to their knees, as doors are blown open, searching- we only wanted our son back!

anakin holds his saber to their throats and snarls you lied, you lied, you told me you loved him-

of course we do, they say. of course we do. we're his family.

obi-wan doesn't want to talk to anakin, when he wakes up three days later in the medbay. he doesn't even want to see him.

he wants his family. he wants to go home.

[suzukiblu]

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

call me cute and feed me sugar

when I see myself, I always know where you are

I'm all yours but you're all mine

a fake cryptid and a real romantic

when you don't believe, that's why you fail

Well, I did "think pink" last week, so it's only appropriate to do all the other DC WIPs I've got going on AO3 this week, right? There's five of them right now, it's just natural! Can't be helped! Totally has to be done!

And just to remind you all, I’m totally cool with people requesting multiple WIPs, but I’d prefer if you sent them in multiple asks! Just a little easier for me that way.

snippet from “call me cute and feed me sugar”:

Tim is pretty sure the date went well, since Kon seemed to enjoy playing with the sensory exhibits, cleaned his plate at the restaurant and finished Tim’s own entrée before going back for dessert, and spent half of the planetarium show star-dazzled and the other half of it making out with him in the back row, and then gave him a goodbye kiss he still hasn’t emotionally recovered from. Like, that seems like a successful date? Or reasonably successful, anyway. 

Planning ahead with a side of psychological analysis has once again paid off, Tim is pleased to note. Definitely worth making the fake IDs. 

Tim snuck way too many pictures, probably, but it’s whatever. Kon didn’t seem to mind, the times he’d caught him. Now he’s gone and set a standard, though, so he’s not sure what he should do for their next date. He’s got to plan it, obviously; he can’t expect Kon to. 

Tim is in his room and already three layers deep into the corkboard he’s planning date options and gift ideas and “is Kon getting enough calories?” math on when Kon texts him, and he stops in the middle of listing the pros and cons of a smart watch as a second-date present to read it. 

He may or may not have given Kon his own text alert and ringtone, but that’s his own damn business.

[8myass]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ hi, y'all! i'm new to this community and i just wanted to do a little "intro to my account" post with a bit about me and my writing! `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ my name is lele, i go by she/her pronouns, and i'm 18 y/o, but i've been writing (and reading) fanfics for years. `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ this is an 18+ account for the mature themes written. i know minors will read anyway, so just read responsibly and understand what you're getting into. there should be no shocker when there is smut in a smut story. `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ i follow everyone back! `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ will include a lot of dark content, fluff isn't my strong suit. `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ works are scheduled to be posted every saturday and sunday (hopefully). `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ if you enjoy my works, please like, comment feedback, and reblog! that would be very much appreciated!! 🩵 `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ requests are open! `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ prompts for requests are found here, but any requests are appreciated ♡. requests will be answered out of order, so it might take a bit for me to wrack my brain of good content to answer requests! `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ anons are welcomed. `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ currents anons are: 🧺 `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ taglist is open!

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- what i won't write: strictly bxb content (i'm inexperienced, maybe i'll try it in the future, also might be on sidelines of stories), incest, mpreg, male reader for smut (as i am not male, i deem it hard to write the mc as a male. but gender neutral is okay), nothing much that i won't really write. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- what i do write: gxg, stepcest, age gaps (legal), infidelity/cheating, noncon (no consent given), dubcon (consent is questionable), cnc (roleplayed noncon scenarios, but it's fully consensual), bondage, any kink you can think of (no piss/shit kinks tho 😐), pegging, dom!reader, switch!reader, yandere, stalkers/stalking, gore, knife play, gun play, sensory play, branding, murder (not of mcs), omegaverse / a/b/o (never written before, i can't promise it'll be good, but i can try??), dacryphilia, unprotected sex, breeding, voyeurism/exhibitionism, blackmail, sensory deprivation, femdoms (whether this means reader or idol), g!p, anal, threesomes/foursomes/anysomes rly, orgies/gangbanging, monster fucking??? idk ig that's all for now, i'm willing to try everything at least once, i'm a rather experimental writer. if it's not listed, i will probably write it anyway lmao. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- genres i write: smut (w or w/o plot, preferably w), fluff, angst, horror/thriller, suggestive, crack, honestly just anything (always experimenting). ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- what i write: series (possibly), drabbles, oneshots (less than 4k words), fake texts, headcannons, hard/soft thoughts, full-fics (more than 4k words). ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- boy groups i write for: nct (all units; nct dream, nct 127, wayv, nct wish but only fluff for all minors), riize, seventeen, stray kids, txt. however, i'll write for any boy group! these are just the only ones that my brain typically needs no help in coming up with ideas for. male soloists can be written for as well! (ngl, i just write for anyone i feel like, so any group is open for requests) ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- girl groups i write for: (g)i-dle, aespa, blackpink, itzy, newjeans (only fluff for hyein and haerin), le sserafim (only fluff for eunchae), twice, and mamamoo. (kard can also be requested as a co-ed group, female soloists are all able to be written for as well) (i really just write for anyone, so anyone is open for requests too)

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ you can find my male idol masterlist here and my female idol masterlist here! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ recent works: nct 2023 yandere headcannons, suicidal (yandere!felix) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ what i'm currently working on: your touch (yandere!anton) [wip, but on hold]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ jaehyun 2024 birthday event!! [m.list for event can be found here] (on hold)

[whimsicalmeerkat]

WIP Wednesday Game Fills

It’s a heavy day, but I’m trying to write so I can at least feel like I’ve pushed back in some way against the people who want to snuff out the things and people they don’t like. Sometimes that’s just doing something they would hate.

This very long set of sentences is from all of this can be broken, which has the working title ‘violence and gore’. People who requested the sentences below. These requests span three weeks. Putting the sentences behind a cut because there’s a whole bunch of them and they’re talking about incest.

@wizisbored x 2 @somefishycat x 2 @violet-prism-creatively x 2 @twyrewolf x 2 @auburnlaughter

@kalira @asha10100101010 @sourb0i x 2 @eriquin @circus-complex

@aparticularbandit @tiercell

They might be in a backwater, but despite the overgrown nature of the path they took to get here, the house Daemon leads Lucivar to is well-maintained. It's small, but everything is clean and in good repair. Lucivar isn't sure he would have noticed if it was a hovel, though. Not with the drugs coursing through his veins. They're starting to make it hard for him to think. Well, to think about anything beyond how restless he is.

He isn't expecting it when Daemon slams him against the door as soon as they cross the threshold and it swings shut behind them. He instinctively reaches for Daemon to change their position, but Daemon uses tendrils of psychic energy to bind Lucivar to the door. He's seen Daemon do this before, but never felt it. He wonders if it always feels like a caress, or if that is unique to them and the current situation. If it is unique, he wonders if it takes specific effort for Daemon to achieve the effect.

"You need to fuck," Daemon says, "and even if you wanted me to, I can't fuck you."

Lucivar stares at him for a moment, wondering why Daemon brought him to this out of the way place if he's just going to refuse to help him. Then Daemon's true meaning penetrates the haze.

"You mean--"

"You'll have to fuck me," Daemon says.

"Have you--" Lucivar starts to ask, before stopping. He doesn't need to finish that sentence to know the answer. Daemon would never have allowed himself to be that vulnerable. Lucivar can't quite believe he's suggesting it even now.

"Don't worry," Daemon says. "It might be my first time, but I won't ask you to be gentle, Prick."

Lucivar swallows, the idea appealing to him more the longer he thinks about it. It shouldn't. He knows it shouldn't. He and Daemon might not have been raised together like brothers, but that doesn't change that they are. He finds he doesn't care about that as much as he thinks he probably should. And fuck, he'd be lying if he said he'd never wondered what Daemon is like in bed. He'd never be so foolish as to ask, but that doesn't mean he hasn't wondered.

None of that makes it OK, though. Oh, not because of their blood relationship. No, Lucivar finds himself incredibly loathe to force Daemon to do anything he doesn't already want to do, and he's given no indication he actually wants to get fucked. Why would he? 

"Stop thinking so hard," Daemon says. "Do you really think this will be such a hardship compared to all of the things we've both had to do?"

"I don't want to do anything you'll regret," Lucivar says. "I especially don't want to do anything you'll regret doing with me."

"This isn't the hunting camps and I'm not a boy," Daemon says evenly.

Well, Lucivar can't really argue with that. He can't even argue that he wasn't thinking about his own experiences when he said that. He hates the mere thought of ever being like those men, but if Daemon is to be believed, he's the only one worried about that.

There's no reason for him to not believe Daemon on the matter. He certainly  has no reason to lie. He's also being unusually sincere. He's still poised, but he doesn't seem as polished as normal.

"Come on, Prick," Daemon says, "are you really going to tell me you'd rather risk death than fuck me?"

"Are you threatening to let me die instead of fighting me, Bastard?"

Daemon laughs. It's so unexpected, Lucivar finds himself staring, cock aching more than ever. Lucivar doesn't think he's ever seen Daemon genuinely, truly laugh.

"No," Daemon says. "I won't ever let you die if I can help it, but you know a fight between us could never be fair, don't you?"

Daemon watches Lucivar, wondering if he'll confirm Daemon's suspicions. He'll have to pick up on his meaning first, but Daemon doesn't think that will be a problem. Lucivar is intelligence in a way that makes people underestimate him, but Daemon has never made that mistake.

"You mean because of--" Lucivar says, eyes flicking to Daemon's right hand, then back to his face.

[geddy-leesbian]

hi, helloooo

5 and 38, maybe?

hope your day is going well!

YAY ASK

warning I'm way too wordy for micro fics these are going to be more than a paragraph at least

5: help. I'm going to cheat and use something from an existing WIP

“You make compelling arguments. Bath it is.” “You're not going to ask for me to watch?” “I'm genuinely so excited about just getting all this grime off me that I don't feel like making a joke. But if you want to watch… I certainly won't object.” Despite his protests, Leon insists on helping Luis walk to the bathroom, and he does stay in the room after helping him into the bath. Not even for an inappropriate reason, he's just missed Luis so much, to the point he hates the thought of leaving him alone, even if it's just in the next room. “Leon? I need– uh, I need your help,” Luis hates asking for help, so he decides to finally add a joke to put himself a bit more at ease. “Not for anything perverted, so don't get too excited. Can you wash my hair for me? Don't know if I can even bend like I'd need to.” “Of course. Should be last though, when you're done,” Snapped out of his idle mind, Leon starts to pay more attention to Luis, and he's kicking himself for not doing so sooner. When he's just laying back and just soaking, the hot water is soothing and he looks content. But every square inch of Luis's body either has dirt, blood, or both, and needs scrubbed. And Luis winces almost every time he has to bend in a new way, to reach a new unwashed spot. That explains why he'd phrased his request like he couldn't wash his own hair at all. He wouldn't ask for help if it would just hurt. Leon scoots to sit on his knees beside the tub, reaching a hand out to Luis's hand with the washcloth. “Don't like watching you hurt yourself. Let me?”

38: soak. this woke up the Gaiden dad and daughter brain worms :3

“I know you're tired, princesa, but your hair will be a mess if I let you go to bed like this!” Luis explains, squeezing Lucia's hair with a towel and occasionally using his fingers to comb through tangles. Luis had tried to keep her dry, making her wear a raincoat and flipping the hood up whenever they went onto the decks, but the raincoat was just no match for the rain that furiously pounded down on the Starlight. Lucia was still soaked when they made it onto the submarine. Her body had been easy enough, Luis quickly towel dried her and Leon offered a spare shirt he found raiding the crew lockers, which was long enough to work as a nightgown for the little girl. But her hair was a pain in the ass. (Not that Luis really minded, he was too relieved about finally being safe from Umbrella to feel upset about anything.) There were no hair dryers to be found on the submarine, he just had to towel dry her hair as much as possible and then braid it. “Tomorrow's going to be a special day. Our first day free. No more tests and needles for you. It's a day that should be spent celebrating, not untangling all the knots in your hair.”

Once Lucia's hair is tamed, he gets ready for bed. Leon and Barry agreed that Luis and Lucia should sleep in the first aid room rather than the crew quarters with the bunk beds, giving them more privacy and the ability to sleep together. Lucia hated sleeping alone, and the crew bunk beds didn't have enough room for two people. The simple solution was moving a first aid cot next to another so that Luis could sleep right by Lucia, ready to comfort her if she had any bad dreams. (And truthfully, the arrangement is ideal for Luis himself. He's gone through hell and back for Lucia, he can't lose her. He needs her within arm's reach, so all he has to do to is reach his arm out to reassure himself that she's with him and safe.)

[sugoi-writes]

♥️💀♥️ WIPs Post ♥️💀♥️

Edit: Against my nature, I have published a Ko-Fi, as it has been demanded. Just know you will see a grown Enby cry if you do this!!!

Fic Descriptions Under the Cut!

Almost Done! Alastor x GN! Musician! Reader - Scream Machine - Part 4

Alastor has come to your new chambers after a relaxing Hotel tour, to discuss the specifics of your duties and pay. Dinner is in a short while, and time is of the essence. There is a lot at stake... and you are going to give it your all to ensure you come out on top of this little "deal". You have to idea to revisit your 'conversation' in the alleyway...

Human!Alastor x Reader - Trigger Happy

Ever a dangerous time with your darling beau, you decide to take things to a new, albeit curious, step. A deal is made, and boundaries are set. Alastor comes for you, shotgun in hand. The only wild game he plans to hunt on this humid, moonlit night is you. The night is young, and the chase is on! (Smut, slight dubcon)

Alastor x Reader: Hidden Strength

It was no secret that Alastor was a capable, powerful man; mostly via his mind. But when you notice particular musculature on his body... you can't help but stare. And unfortunately... it's quite rude to stare! A punishment is warranted... (content hints coming soon)

Ask Game:

Alastor x Reader - Just Alastor

The overlord parading through Hell did not trust picture boxes; HATED them even. He wouldn't be caught in second death using another one of those things! But seeing you gleam across the screens of a local shop changed his tune... Now unable to keep himself from thinking of you, he will find a way to occupy your time and space; by any means necessary. (No warnings atm; will probably be a little angst-y, pining, but tame.)

Send me suggestions, if you like! Pairings, particular characters, characters x reader... I'm up for all ideas!

---

Requests: Open

Submissions/Message: Open

Hyperfocus: Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss; all characters associated

Willing to also write for KNY(Demon Slayer), Dungeon Meshi (not-manga savvy; no spoilers!), and BNHA(My Hero Academia).

Thanks for visiting! 🫠 I promise I'll make a masterlist one day, haha

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Guy 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.

You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper. 

You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.  

Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching. 

“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters. 

“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.  

You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake. 

“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug. 

He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him. 

“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.  

He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you. 

“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.” 

He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching. 

You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise. 

You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with. 

You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves. 

A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him. 

“Uh, hi?” You utter dully. 

“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face. 

“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.  

“There a problem?” He asks. 

“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.” 

“I don’t like your tone.” 

You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms. 

“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body. 

“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.” 

You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties. 

“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug. 

He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.” 

“No, I—I didn’t do anything.” 

“There you go again. Disrespectful.” 

“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion. 

“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts. 

You blink, “you don’t know me.” 

“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.” 

“I don’t want it,” you insist. 

“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts. 

You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone? 

You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again. 

“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you. 

You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe. 

“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him. 

“Now smile,” he demands. 

You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day. 

You force a smile. 

“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers. 

Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down. 

“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble. 

“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.” 

“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.” 

You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front. 

You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest. 

He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest. 

💀

Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life.  If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back. 

You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark. 

The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone. 

You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing. 

Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around. 

You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up. 

You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time. 

The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you. 

You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice. 

You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment. 

“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.” 

You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice? 

The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you. 

“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says. 

You snort, “sure she did.” 

“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours. 

“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back. 

You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact. 

“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.” 

Can be. 

You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?” 

He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...” 

You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner. 

“I appreciate the ride but--” 

“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.” 

You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching. 

“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--” 

He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?” 

You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.”” 

“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges. 

You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod. 

“Thank you, sir,” you choke out. 

“See, not that hard to be a good girl.” 

He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him. 

“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls. 

“I can--” 

“Just be careful,” he snips. 

Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.  

You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better. 

[unapologeticallytheworst]

Hi, posting for a bit of peer review of the idea.

Celebrity CEO/Scientist!Tony Stark/Flight Attendant!Peter Parker

Notes: 3k words. Peter is 18 and in the summer between high school and college. Tony is indeterminately in his 40s and some non-superhero-y but still action-movie-y version of IM1 played out about 5ish years ago. Weirdly not Pepper Potts or Liz Toomes friendly. I swear I don't dislike either of those characters, but I wanted everyone in a weird headspace.

Fair warning, this just kinda stops and is in a rough draft state. But I gotta know if anyone would want to read more of this before I devote more time to it. Like I'll probably still finish it but I'll probably finish my main wip first, ya know?

Peter finds himself fidgeting with his tie, but he can't help it. He is just so nervous. Mr. Toomes has already made it clear that if he messes this up he's out. And he gets it, this The Tony Stark's private plane. He isn't even supposed to be on this flight, but he was the one on standby. Today is the company team building/party and as the newest he gets to sit it out. He hadn't minded at the time, it sounded like a class and that was the last thing that he wanted to do with his summer off. Then the caterers arrived and decked out the meeting room. He got what kind of team building exercise it was then. Ned had fixed him a plate and assured him he would get to enjoy it next time. To enjoy getting paid to sit at the desk doing nothing but eat good food and wait for a phone that wouldn't ring.

But the phone did ring, and not just any phone at that. The line everyone calls the red phone, the one reserved for the clients that pay consistent 24/7 availability. He actually let it ring for second longer than he should have because he was in so much shock. He has never even seen it ring and now it was his responsibly to not only answer it but work whatever flight is being requested. Because everyone else was definitely already too far gone on the large amounts of champagne being passed around.

When he did pick up, it was one Happy Hogan saying that Tony Stark wanted his jet wheels up as fast as possible. Which wouldn't have been a problem except he wasn't cleared to work for Mr. Stark who has his own special designation. Only a select few are allowed to work his flights, because he's so valuable to the agency. Mr. Toomes even personally greets him whenever possible. He had immediately alerted everyone who needed to be told, including Toomes,who took fifteen minutes to figure out what he already knew. It was going to have to be him that worked this one.

Lost in the nervousness of an hour ago, Peter almost manages to forget about the current anxiety. But the nearly blinding gleam of the slick black town car as it rolls directly onto the tarmac swiftly reminds him. Toomes shifts next to him and Peter wishes he would have just stayed at the party. His boss isn't drunk precisely… just probably more than he should be to greet their most important client for what sounded like an emergency. What kind of emergency requires an immediate long haul flight to Hawaii he's not sure, but if there's one thing that this job has taught him, don't try to understand the whims of the rich and famous. It will drive him insane.

It doesn't even seem like the car has fully stopped, before Mr. Stark is out and striding toward the waiting plane. Their eyes meet for the briefest moment, as he passes at the bottom of the stairs, and Peter feels thirteen again. Watching the press conference, where even battered, bruised, and clearly exhausted, Tony Stark was suddenly the sexiest person he had ever seen.

He only doesn't manage to make a fool of himself by virtue of the fact that he freezes. Not that it matters much since Toomes seems plenty willing to be embarrassing enough for both of them, trailing after Mr. Stark in spite of the obvious brush offs. Peter recognizes Mr. Hogan purely because he's seen him in the background of enough paparazzi photos. He rushes to help him with the bags, thankfully only two small duffels. Happy hands them off with nothing more than a nod, dashing up the steps still seemingly as frantic as he had seemed on the phone.

Walking up the steps is equal parts terrifying and exciting. He's about to be stuck with his celebrity crush for eleven hours and if he messes it up he'll lose his job. No big deal. Not a problem at all.

Toomes is still hovering, babbling completely missing the unspoken cues that Mr. Stark isn't in the mood. He's already seated and buckled even, clearly signaling his desire to get a move on. Peter cuts through their line of sight to stow the bags, hoping it will shake Toomes. The last thing he needs is Mr. Stark in a bad mood, because his boss won't back off. That he had gleaned in his conversation with one of Mr. Stark's regular flight attendants. Sometimes Tony is lonely and looking for someone to vent to, but just as much he wants to be left alone. It's up to him to figure out which is which. Engage if he engages him. Well she had used different words, because she was quite drunk, but he got the gist. He's glad it's not a party, she made those sound worse. He can leave Mr. Stark alone and if he needs someone to listen to his problems that's okay. Maybe he can forget his own for a while.

His move does disrupt the conversation but not in the way Peter is expecting. Mr. Stark interrupts whatever Mr. Toomes is babbling about, to say, “He's new.” Peter busies himself with making sure the bags are secure, pretending not to be interested in the conversation.

His boss is quiet for a moment, before launching into, “Yeah I guess it was bound to happen. One day you were going to call on a day when the rookie was the one on standby. He's a little wet behind the ears, but he's good. It was actually Cathy, one of your regulars, that plucked him out of janitorial.” Mr. Stark's statement didn't really require that response, but at least they are talking about something he brought up. Toomes speaks again when he doesn't get a response, “She said he is too cute, smart, and polite to be wasting time cleaning.”

Peter is flooded with regret that he let this conversation happen and feels his face heat at the description. He stands and spins in time to catch Mr. Stark giving him a once over as he says, “Well, I think I can trust Catherine's judgment.” Peter knows he's probably blushing even worse. It wasn't even that kind of look, more just taking his measure. But enough to remind him that he would very much like for it to be that kind of look.

Peter blurts, “Are you ready to go, Mr. Stark? Or has anything changed since I spoke to Mr. Hogan?” It's a bit rude to cut into their conversation, but he's getting desperate to get Toomes off the plane. Happy is no help pacing towards the back of the plane with a phone to his ear.

There's a hint of a smirk on Mr. Stark's lips as he responds, “Nope. We're good to go…” his eyes flick down the little gold name tag dangling off his vest, “Peter.” As Mr. Stark looks at him, Peter gets the distinct impression that he is fighting the urge to laugh. And he gets it, Mr. Stark understands his predicament and finds it deeply amusing. Which is something… at least he's not mad.

“Well, we better get going so we can get in line with ATC,” Peter drags the sentence out hoping it will work, but instead Mr. Stark just makes an interested noise and he has to explain, “The only private runway big enough for your jet is closed out of an abundance of caution due to an issue with the TAWS system, sir.” Then trying to rescue the purpose of the conversation, “So we really should get moving, because the commercial lanes are always busy.”

They stand there in a brief awkward silence, as Peter begs with every fibre of his being for his boss to leave and his body stop noticing the way that Mr. Stark looks sprawled in the plush leather armchair. He's still clearly deeply amused at Peter's problem, which helps with his libido some, cooled by embarrassment.

Mr. Stark goes to speak, to help or hurt Peter is not sure, but Happy abruptly rejoins the conversation, “The house will be ready, Tony. The staff will come out with Rhodey, because you know he'll complain, but I figured you would like the peace.”

Moment forgotten, Mr. Stark turns to talk to Mr. Hogan and Peter does his best to pretend that he isn't listening as he does a final check of the galley. Toomes still stands in the middle of the walkway seemingly lost by the conversation.

“So he can make it?” “Of course he's coming. It will take a couple of days, but he's coming. Think he's going to try and get Banner and Strange to come out too.” ”So we can all braid each other's hair and eat ice cream? - Sorry, I didn't mean that. Thank you for putting this together, Hap.”

There's silence then Mr. Hogan seems to understand what the holdup is, because he starts ushering Mr. Toomes towards the door, spouting random nonsense about how they need to get moving. Peter rushes after them pulling the door closed as soon as Toomes is clear. He turns and thanks Happy, who gives him a long look before speaking, “Sure, no problem, kid. Listen, be gentle with Tony, okay? He's just had a bad break up.” Peter just nods, trying to hide his surprise. It always seemed like Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts were so stable from the outside. Happy nods and goes, presumably to take a seat.

The two soft beeps from his ear piece remind him that he still needs to do his actual job now. So he tells the cockpit that the stairs and car are out of the way, who inform him of the situation so he hurries to get everything ready. Bouncing lightly with nervous energy he takes his place at the front of the cabin and says, “ATC said they can squeeze us in real quick, because there's a traffic jam on the JFK side. So if you two are all ready, we can be airborne in five.”

Mr. Stark's lips twist and he says, “You're going to skip your little safety briefing?” Most people wouldn't complain about that, but then again Mr. Stark isn't actually complaining. He's messing with him. That much is obvious. Why he's not sure, but it's definitely what's happening.

Still not sure why, Peter finds himself playing back by pointing out, deadpan, “Either of you could legally fly this plane, sir. I think you understand the safety procedures.” He can tell that he surprises Mr. Stark with the statement, but thankfully not in a bad way.

In fact given the way that Mr. Stark lights up a little and starts eyeing him in a new way, Peter would say that it's exactly the right thing to say. Mr. Stark relaxes back into his chair in a way that accidentally shows off the long lean lines of his body, looking more rock star than celebrity ceo and scientist. And Peter has to get a grip on himself, because they're not that kind of staffing agency. He almost misses what Mr. Stark says, so lost in the fantasy, “Maybe I just wanted to see you do your thing.”

Peter replies, “You can watch me do my thing once we're airborne,” and then feels the blush explode across his face as he realizes how dirty that sounds. Desperate to regain his professionalism, he adds, “But if you would rather wait an hour, because we ended up at the back of the line…” he lets the sentence trail off with a hint of challenge, because that's what this has to be about. Mr. Stark is just trying to see if he can rattle him.

He gets the impression that Mr. Stark is laughing at him as he says, “As much fun as watching you do your thing sounds,” and Mr. Stark definitely makes it sound dirty, “how about you just bring out the bar cart when we hit cruising?”

Relieved to escape whatever game Mr. Stark is playing with him, Peter tosses out, “Sure thing, Mr. Stark,” before disappearing into the galley to let the pilots know they're good to go and buckle himself into the four point harness of his jumpseat. It almost sounded like Mr. Stark was flirting with him for a second there, but that's crazy. Plus there have never been any complaints about Mr. Stark coming on to the staff. Then he wouldn't exactly complain would he? And Mr. Stark had been in a relationship.

The jolt as they start taxiing knocks him out of his thoughts and it seems like they'll make the window so he grabs the gum out of his standby bag. Toomes would kill him if he knew about the gum, but the last thing he needs is to be half deaf because his ears didn't pop right. On impulse he slips his book on the bar cart, secured to the wall next to him.

Peter finds himself weirdly excited to do bar cart for Mr. Stark. The bartending lessons had been his best scores when he had done his training. He can't do any of the fun flipping and spinning, that would be a disaster with his clumsiness, but chemistry had prepared him for mixing things. Plus the rider made Mr. Stark's drink preferences sound easy. A little bit of over pouring, but not enough to make it a single into a double. No need for anything fancy, just very well made drinks.

The chime in his ear letting him know that they've hit cruising altitude comes at him like a surprise and brings with it some of his earlier stress. He busies himself with triple checking the cart as the captain announces their flight time and ETA. Unlocking the cart from the wall and rolling into the main cabin, Peter resolves to give Mr. Stark the best experience he can. The thought that he is hurting over his broken engagement is way better motivator than the threat to his job. Especially since he doesn't need the job anymore.

Resolutely not thinking about the letter at the bottom of his bag, Peter notices that Mr. Hogan appears to have fallen asleep during take off. He did seem very tired earlier. Mr. Stark catches him looking and speaks softly, “He's been running himself ragged for me.” Peter can see how touched Mr. Stark is by what Happy has done for him, but he seems almost mad about it.

“He's your friend, he just wants to make sure that you're okay,” slips out of Peter's mouth without him meaning for it to happen as he parks the cart close, but out of the way.

Mr. Stark gives him another long indecipherable look, before speaking again, voice still soft not to disturb sleeping man a few feet away, “He said something didn't he?” Peter feels like he is betraying Happy's trust as he nods, but it's clear that Mr. Stark already knows.

Feeling the need to defend Mr. Hogan a little, “He's just worried about you. It's just because he cares.” Mr. Stark sighs at him and actually looks every bit the guy that just had a very serious break up, whose friends are worried about him. There's an exhaustion there, not the physical kind like Happy, he doesn't need a nap. He needs a break.

Mr. Stark's soft, “I know,” almost gets lost in the gentle hum of the cabin. Then he shakes himself and goes back to being the billionaire, former playboy, philanthropist that has been staring back at Peter from the glossy pages of the checkout for years. It's jarring and he gets the sense he just saw Tony, not Tony Stark, not Mr. Stark, but Tony the person. When he speaks again it's with a joking conspiratorial tone, “What do you say you help me convince him to go take a real nap? And fix me a gin and tonic?”

Peter rolls with mood change as smoothly as he can, “Sure thing Mr. Stark. Double or single?” he begins assembling the drink on automatic, he's thankful for the familiar task in the unfamiliar situation.

Mr. Stark seems relieved he doesn't make a thing of it, so Peter counts that as a win, ”Single. Shake him for me will you?” Shaking awake a stranger is one of those things that was one of those things that had felt very strange the first time but he had gotten used to with this job. Happy startles awake under his touch apparently not having realized that he fell asleep. Peter leaves Mr. Stark to deal with him as he starts pouring. “Hap, grab your cpap and go sleep in the real bed.”

Happy starts trying to protest, about how he's fine, how he doesn't need to, and Peter knows easy points when he sees them. So he tosses out lightly, “The sheets are fresh and the pillows are fluffed, Mr. Hogan. I checked myself,” then to Mr. Stark, ”Twist of lime, sir? I forgot to ask.”

Mr. Stark's smirk suggests that his, “Yes,” is about more than limes and that Peter just scored some points in whatever game they're playing. Then with a voice like honey, that makes Peter immediately understand exactly how the man in front of him gained a reputation as a world class playboy, he says to Happy, “See you can't let the kid's hard work go to waste like that. Go take a nap at least.”

[linashirou]

WIP Wednesday!

(A little late but still!) This time @fangbangerghoul tagged me and I have to tell you that I'm working on a second ending for the Dragon's Dogma fic. The problem is that I lost a big part, because at some point Microsoftword.exe didn't save it. So I got a little depressed about it (I realized this yesterday), so I will share the beginning of it.

Don't believe people who say: "There's nothing new under the sun".

That's not true.

The most unexpected things can happen.

And that's quite a lot when you consider that I'm just a pawn.

As you probably already know (or suspect), the age of a pawn is difficult to determine. I don't know exactly how many human years, how many Springs I've seen go by, but I can say that I've worked with more Arisen than I can really remember or count.

Still, my memory can only recall two of them: the one who gave me life, and the one who made me feel emotions. Their will, and determination were astonishing. The one that gave me life, my own Arisen appeared to be a decent, reasonable person with an unbreakable will, but he gifted me the most bitter feeling: Disappointment.

Some might say: He was the one who made me a being with feelings, and maybe that's the truth, but, in my opinion, she had something special.

Something strange and inexplicable.

"I like to think that we are like moths drawn to the light; this warm, powerful aura that the Arisen have…"

Today, Hal's words carry a different weight, they're like an echo in my mind, haunting me.

Many Awakenings have come and gone… Different Arisen… Different motivations and wills.

But somehow… I feel guilty

Regardless how much experience I once bragged about…

I never expected anything like this.

We had been together for a long time, I'd say months.

Lina was the one chosen by the Dragon in this dimension as the Arisen, the one who would finish him and free the world from the disaster dressed in Crimson. Hal was always by her side. A skinny, eye-glassed, book-loving pawn, brilliant and creative. At first I despised his lack of courage and his shyness.

Now, in retrospect… I can't ignore his true qualities.

His mental agility and his almost unnatural effort to understand life and people; Sensitive, always looking out for her happiness and that of those with whom he lived, including me and Meryl.

How stupid I was.

Surely, as he mentioned on more than few occasions, my "muscular brain" made me indifferent to what some people call the "intelligence of the heart".

If only I had noticed this earlier… I might have noticed that there was something strange going on from the very beginning…

It's no news that Arisens could bring joy to people.

And envy too.

For some strange reason, the negativity becomes endearingly attractive to minds in despair and uncertainty of the approaching end (perhaps this is something triggered by the Dragon's presence).

That day, a stranger approached the Arisen and begged for help. He pulled out a weird piece of paper that claimed to be a letter from a well-known person.

They were barely readable, asking for help to get home, from Bloodwater Beach to Grand Soren.

A long and complicated journey.

To be honest, I have to make yourself clear that it's not uncommon to receive requests for escort, especially on the road, but…

What the hell was that person doing out there in the first place?

Bloodwater Beach is one of Gransys' most remote and inhospitable places…

Why should we help that person?

These questions weren't asked back then.

And maybe that's why I'm here now...

[foolishlovers]

NOVEMBER FIC RECS: Below you'll find a list of all the Good Omens fics I've read and enjoyed this November.

You can request more fic recs here.

A Good Book by Butwhymustiputaname (G, 1k)

It’s not that Crowley can’t read. He can, for a little while. It’s that he’s not quite built for it, something about the snake eyes and what not. They’re not meant for looking closely at little words in print. He squints, and it gives him a headache. He can read menus and street signs, sure, can fumble through the paperwork Hell’s bureaucracy sends him. But getting through a novel or a thick biography? It takes too long and his eyes start to swim. Aziraphale finds out.

There Were Too Many Beds by AppleSeeds (G, 2k)

After the apocalypse has been averted, Aziraphale decides he'd like to try sleeping and enlists Crowley's help with shopping for a suitable bed.

The Piano Serpent by journeytogallifrey (T, 3k)

Aziraphale owns The Flaming Sword, which is one of the premier gay bars in London. Everyone knows this… except for their pianist, Crowley. While the regulars take bets over whether he's the clueless straight person he seems, Aziraphale just tries to prevent himself from falling further. But one night Crowley plays a song written specially to honor their regulars, and Aziraphale can't hold the truth in any longer. How will Crowley react? Will the truth really set them free? --- Based on the post where Billy Joel's The Piano Man is really about a clueless straight pianist in a gay bar. Or in our case, 'straight'.

The Italicised Oh (Flower of Scotland) by tinkerty_tonk (M, 6k, WIP)

Crowley will not let Aziraphale drive 'their' car to Edinburgh and so they embark on a 'family' road trip. With Jim. And the plants. Meanwhile a still-oblivious Crowley hasn't had his big 'oh' realisation of love yet, Aziraphale thinks they are on the same page and is keen for them to take the next step, and Shax has watched too many romantic movies and has come up with a sinister plan to drive a wedge between them.

Once Upon a Time by TawnyOwl95 (E, 14k, WIP)

Anthony Crowley has made some bad life choices. Possibly none so bad as agreeing to play the pantomime villain in his hometown's production of Dick Whittington. Aziraphale East has arranged his life just as he likes it, and he's in a position to do some good. He can help an old friend out of a tight spot, and in turn, Anthony Crowley's name can put some much-needed bums on seats, maybe even save the theatre. It should be the perfect arrangement, except there are dark forces gathering over Llanfair Bay, and the past is never really behind you.

Trial & error by fellshish (E, 15k)

The Metatron brings in the demon Crowley to stand trial in Heaven. For tempting an angel. Uhhhh. Awkward.

Caramel Delight by AJ_Constantine (E, 16k)

After years of enduring hellish neighbours, Crowley is delighted when they finally move out, and even more delighted when their replacement is easy going, friendly, doesn’t leave his bins on the kerb for weeks, and… attractive in a way that causes a fluttering in Crowley’s midsection like a battalion of butterflies attempting to form ranks. Crowley knows that hooking up with the person who lives next door to him is a Bad Idea. But a jar of his Nan’s famous caramel sauce as a ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’ gesture couldn’t hurt. And what’s he supposed to do when Aziraphale continues to show up at Crowley’s door with an irresistible smile, asking for more?

Simmer (The Long-Awaited Reply to a Lingering Kiss) by LemonTart (M, 17k)

Aziraphale Fell is an accomplished food writer and book collector who leads a quiet life. Anthony Crowley owns the Grand Duke Distillery, maker of Wanton Sinner Whisky, and has a reputation for living on the wild side. As former culinary school classmates, they share a love of food and drink — and a long ago kiss that neither one has ever quite forgotten. Are they just too different to ever make it work? (I bet you can guess.) Aziraphale rises from his chair, takes a few steps towards him, then hesitates. Crowley knows a hundred different emotions must be flickering across his face, reflecting all the turmoil between his head and his heart. His heart is loud, insistent, nudging him to see the earnest hope in Aziraphale’s expression, to remember the beatific boy who lent him a pen and kissed him on a stair step, urging him to not let go of this man with ink-stained fingers and rare books who constantly surprises him. His shoulders tense as his breath hitches, his voice hoarse. “You need to tell me exactly what you want.”

Press L in the Chat (for Love) by Djapchan, Phoenix_Soar (E, 29k)

Bickering fan-content creators Aziraphale and Crowley only have three things in common — they are both avid fans of a new revolutionary TV series about pirates, they are popular for their fantastic fanfiction and fanart… and they are members of the same discord server. Neither of them likes the other, but across the chaotic virtual world of a discord chatroom, who knows what can happen when these two unlikely fans are paired up for an exciting collaboration? Us. We know ;) Discord Server AU — a collaboration between Phoenix_Soar (fic) and Djapchan (multivoice podfic organization & editing) for Pod-Together 2022

Mon Horrible Chéri by ghostrat (E, 39k)

Apparently, Crowley could ruin his good mood. Crowley was just about the only thing that could ruin it. “Right. So. You and I, is it?” Aziraphale confirmed, just to be clear. “That’s right.” “And how long is this trip, exactly?” “One full week,” Crowley enunciated too clearly, stretching his lips around the words and sharply clacking his k. “Seven whole days.” “Great,” Aziraphale breathed. They both smiled, all teeth and no joy. (Human AU / Enemies to Lovers) • English Teacher Aziraphale gets roped into the sixth form Paris field trip, not realising his worst enemy Science Teacher Crowley is the accompanying chaperone. Are seven days of forced proximity really enough to undo a truly vitriolic relationship? Or, let's be real: How quickly does it take them to fall head over heels for each other?

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield. by heloluv (M, 40k)

Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers. Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye. A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year.

Married at First Sight by Aracloptia (T, 137k, WIP)

“Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over. In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.