#i started it last month but never got back to it! eep!

[seagullcharmer]

aaaaa it's been such a busy week i haven't finished my fic for tomorrow!

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

A Touch of Life, A Life of Touch (NSFW 18+)

Summary: Time to take a break from all the heavy stuff we saw in the most recent fics. Just some cute slice of life, sprinkled with some smutty loving goodness at the very end.

Warning: NSFW at the End!! Gender neutral reader but female anatomy referenced, Oral Sex, Penetrative sex, Thigh jobs, Khopesh and Lullaby just living their daily lives with plenty of affection in between.

Link to Previous Fic Here!

Next Chapter (Under Construction) Here!

First fic in the series! Here!

Tags: @kit-williams @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @felinisnoctis @passionofthesith @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual @sleepyfan-blog @barn-anon

Many of these awesome folks have contributed characters! Thank you for that!

Enjoy!

5:00 AM

A simple but effective beep beep beep, beep beep beep, wakes you the rest of the way from your peaceful slumber. Your phone alarm is going off.

You stretch, yawn, and take a drink from the water bottle at your bedside, along with some morning medication.

Time to start the day.

Brush teeth, fix hair, on with your work clothes. A month or so has passed and the days are decidedly more chilly. Another layer would suit you well you think, grabbing the jacket you're certain will Never be free from the loose hay in its pockets.

You pick up a few more things from the bedroom: a charger, your phone, your headphones...

"Mrfmph..." You hear a sleepy murmur in the bed behind you, and turn back with a warm smile.

Your Nightlord is sleeping on the other side of the bed, he'd come in and snuggled up to your sleeping form late in the night. Now it was your turn to be the one awake.

You lean over your Sweetness, and part of your yearns to crawl back into bed for just a few more minutes (that would turn into at Least a half hour making you rush the rest of your day) No, as cute as your Khopesh is you can't give in.

You press a tender kiss to the sleeping Nightlord. "I'll see you later my darling.~"

At least you Thought, he was sleeping. "Mmm-no.." You suddenly find yourself snatched! Grabbed! And bamboozled!

"Eep!" You shriek with surprise and Laughter. "Khopesh I gotta Go!" You chuckle, pushing  against the solid wall of purring muscle that's pulling you back into the warm covers. So toasty warm and nice.

"Mm-No, stay," he says simply, rubbing and nuzzling his face into yours. "Outside cold, Nest is Warm, stay..."

You kiss him softly. "The Horses are cold too. They need their breakfast." You coo. "And you need more rest before you start your base duties. I'll see you again soon."

"MrmmMmm," Khopesh grumbled, but acquiesced but only after demanding "One more kiss!"

As if you had any problem giving him every last one.

___________________

6:15 AM

As you putter around getting things done at the barn; supplements in buckets, hay in the wagon, prep the beat pulp, divvy the alfalfa, grab the goat food...

Your eyes catch sight of a familiar group in white armor over at the fence near the road. You check your watch, you've got time for a quick hello.

"Hooooo! CAPTAIN!" You call out, causing the Space Marines in white helmets to turn. As you did often you grab a basket of apples, and other snacks and head to the fence.

The horses on your side approach you with interest, but you carefully weave around them with the basket on your shoulder.

"Horseman," Esen greets you, as you climb the fence and sit atop it. It brings you to eye level with the White Scars.

"Catch!" You toss an apple which the Captain does indeed catch easily. Then you pick up three more and break into a cascade juggling them. Toss! One for Batu, Toss! one for Ganbold, Toss! And one for Dölgöön all caught easily tossed from your hands.

"Well done," Batu cheers as he takes a bite of the juicy fruit. Dölgöön breaks his in half delicately, placing one half in his mouth, and giving the other half to one of your horses.

"You look well." Captain Esen remarks, simply holding onto his apple, before reaching up and ruffling your hair a bit.

"I feel pretty well too." You affirm, offering him the basket of snacks, which he does take from.

Ganbold squeezes his apple so the juice runs, somewhat messily, into his mouth. Before giving the crushed bits to your horse Tisane, who greedily ate them.

"Are you looking forward to our training today?" Dölgöön asks, in his usual restrained tone.

You nod. "Of course! I want to learn from as many people as I can." You say, offering him more from the basket. He takes a granola bar.

Unbeknownst to you when you'd been saved, Dölgöön had a measure of psychery. After the discovery of your mutation Anrir elected to inform him as well as the other marines who had saved you about your...development.

He needed to interview them to try and get a better understanding of what he believed was the catalyst for your bond mutation. So he figured he might as well enlist their help in psychery testing and your physical training regime.

It helped Karlsor and Claude not become over worked, and damaged by overusing their psychery.

"Hey! Don't forget me!" Ganbold says jovilaly. "We'll also be testing your physical improvements! I look forward to seeing how your trainers have done so far."

"Ah right," You agree, though part of you hopes it won't be as...bumpy as your first physical workout with an astarte.

"Okay first put on these weights. Now we're going to run. 30 laps around the base. Normally I'd make you do 50 but we're starting off easy."

"Uh...Pyrus..."

"What is it Trainee?"

"I can't move..."

The workouts overseen by Pyrus had been Much better after that. You know using weights your could actually...lift? Even letting you take time in the forge, he called those 'practical' lessons, which you performed eagerly.

"Pyrus has been good to me so far." You affirm. "But again, good to have multiple teachers. I'm looking forward to it...just not the soreness that will come after." You chuckle. "Anyway I've gotta get back to work. See ya'll later!"

You wave goodbye and take the basket back inside. Then you start tying the horses so they can be fed.

7:30 AM

You're waiting for the waters to fill, and you see another familiar sight. A large taciturn being in Grey black armor with hazard stripe pauldrons is fiddling with some pieces of scrap near your old decrepit barn.

You smile and make your way over, grabbing a few of the snacks you Know he likes.

"Malkos," you greet with a simple smile. He simply grunts, in acknowledgement.

"You know...my mother was just Raving about how I'd fixed up the goat's fence. Telling me what a Good Job I'd done." You chuckled. "I Almost felt bad when I had to tell her it wasn't me..."

Malkos gives you a huff and a side eye. "It was sub optimally constructed And falling apart, it was an affront to my eyes, that is all."

You nod. "Yep...thing was old as shit. But..." You bring the snacks from behind your back. "It's still appreciated."

The Iron Warrior eyes you for a moment, flicking up and down to the snacks before signing, and taking them from your hands.

You smile knowingly.

Malkos pointedly looks unimpressed, but he does take a bite of his snack. "I think I will next set to making an automatic water shutoff...I think you could use one."

You raise an eyebrow, before looking behind yourself and realizing the water was overflowing. "Oh Shit!" You run full pelt back so you can turn it off.

Malkos makes sure you can't see him while he does, but he allows himself a Small smile at your antics.

Silly Human.

8:45 AM

You're finishing up the tasks in the barn, but you do need a little hustle, you need to leave for work around 9:15 am. You haul ass with a wheelbarrow Full of manure to the piles out back.

You're just about to upend the barrel, when the soft ground beneath you begins to shift and shake. "Woah! WoaH WOAH!"

"RAAAAWR!" A familiar smell breaks through the soil along with its source, you stumble but don't fall as the large green Death Guard surprised you.

"Boo!" He says once he is more visible and sitting upright.

"Xerxes!" You chastise without any real bite. "You should've let me know I was stepping on you. I could've put my foot in your mouth." You joke.

This causes Xerxes's two mouths to chuckle. "I am glad...to... see you in...Good spirits. I will visit...the base later...would you show me...your progress in psychery?"

You nodded. "Of course! I'd be happy to have you come by and see what we're working on."

Xerxes nods. "I will...look forward to...it..." He breathes.

"By the way could up wait here. There's something I want to give you." You say, before making a quick run back into the barn and finding It. 

You run back out to the Death Guard and you see him And the mouth on his gut perk up at the sight of a take out box in your hand. "Took a while but this one's got Real soupy, I mean it was a soup to begin with But I think its been sitting around enough to be Just Your Taste." You say unveiling the Salamander Spicy Ramen that wasn't to Khopesh's preference.

Or what's left of it. Over a month of aging had left it in a Poor State for anyone...except a Death Gaurd.

Xerxes clapped happily. "Marvelous! Rotten...Fetid and.... Marvelous! Thank you..." He said, eagerly taking the offered food and trying some.

"Hrrrrrm, the heat....is still there beneath.... the miasma....lending it...a greater depth...of Flavor!" He slurped up the 'food' greedily.

"Enjoy!" You say, tipping the wheelbarrow and hustling back inside. You waved to Xerxes as you went about your final tasks for the barn work.

10:00 AM

Khopesh finally stirs from his sleep, and goes about his own routine of prep. Nightlords are primarily Nocturnal, but their placement here on Ancient Terra has made them need to. ..adjust a bit.

He brushes and polishes his sharp teeth to a shine. Before donning his armor. He needs to make his way to the base for...kitchen duty.

Khopesh huffs, the work is Important, it is teaching him restraint so he does not accidentally harm his Lullaby. And the food access is another perk though Zaarius was Firm that he was only allowed so much extra.

Khopesh exits his nest (a repurposed section of the outside garage so he could have larger private quarters, his Vada had taken to the task eagerly, though it Did leave a bit less room for his hobby of car repair...until he'd expanded that as well.) He takes in the cool of the morning. The light on his Vada and Muti's home is beautiful, with his Helmet to block the painful rays to his eyes. He looks towards his Lullaby's home and sees their vehicle is gone.

Ah yes, they have a shift at their part time job this day of the week. But! He Will see them later.

He bids a quick but loving farewell to his Vada and Muti (swiping a quick bit of breakfast on his way) then starts towards Gannett Point.

3:40 PM

"Okay...so you need to look at the overall chemical equation," you say pointing to the writing at the top of the white board. "And then compare it to the step wise ones down here. The idea is to eliminate anything that doesn't appear in the final equation, and to do that we need to rearrange the equations so the things we want to eliminate appear on both a product and reagent side." You explain. "Appearing as the product of one equation and the reagent of another means the species is an Intermediate, so it gets made and then gets used up." You say to the student.

"Here, O2 appears as a reagent here, and a product here." You say, pointing to the step wise equations. "So you can cross it out."

"Oh yeah...and then...can I eliminate This one too, because we flipped on of the equations and this species is on both sides too."

"That is absolutely correct!" You say cheerfully. "Just don't forget the Enthalpy of the reaction will change it's sign. You're reversing the process so the direction of the heat flow will also reverse."

"Cool cool, thanks! I think I'm starting to get it better now." Your student nods, and begins gathering their things.

"Glad to help," you say, starting to wipe down the white board. You need to get ready to leave too, it's almost the end of your shift.

You give your coworkers a cheerful goodbye, and begin to make your way out of the tutoring center.

"Big plans for today?" Your coworker Malcom asks, a big jovial nerdy fellow with glasses and beard. He was like a cool older brother or uncle, and always bought snacks for people on their birthdays, and to the tutoring center in general.

You shake your head. "Not really, just going to visit the Gannett Point base. By the way how's Geltech doing?"

Geltech being Malcom's tech marine, and equally nerdy, they were a perfect match for eachother's hobbies and interests. Malcom nods, "He's been doing well, he's been a big help with refining my skills with differential equations."

You nod. "That's good! I'll see you tomorrow. Tell Gel hi for me." You say, walking out at a fast pace. Only because you couldn't run indoors, even though you Wanted to get to the base soon. You were eager for your training, And to see your boo.

4:10 PM

Khopesh regarded the object on the table before him with Extreme focus. His other attempts were set on a wire rack, they were acceptable generally but this one had to be Perfect.

He picked up the piping bag full of tart cream, and began to squeeze. The mixture flowed easily, but held it's shape. His arms handled the delicate task with practice but not easy.

Steady...steady. Fill Almost to the brim of the tart cup but not above!

Once the yellow cream was handled, Khopesh grabbed his next items. Fresh and beautiful pieces of fruit. He arranged them with precision, then reached for the Final ingredient.

A piping bag of a simple clear syrup, he dabbed an elegant finish onto the fruits which made them glisten. It was...

"Perfect," Zaarius comes up behind him to examine his work.

"Indeed it is quite the pretty tart, well done." The Noise Marine hums. "Anrir was right to recommend this, your hand eye coordination has improved ten fold since you started."

"Thank you Older Cousin," Khopesh replies, before carefully placing his special creation in a box for later. "I simply hope my Lullaby adores it."

Zaarius chuckles at that. "They have one of the most sharpened sweet tooths I've ever witnessed. I'm sure they'll love it."

Zaarius also glances over the Other fruit tarts that will be served in the cafeteria tonight as dessert. "I see you've produced the 20 trays I requested." He nods. "Excellent, I will store these appropriately."

Khopesh nods. "We have made the preparations for the main courses, the sides and the desserts. And my duty time is nearly complete...is there anything else you require of me?"

Zaarius hums. "Not at this time. What will you be doing next?"

Khopesh grins. "Training, promised certain...sparring partners I'd help them work out some stress." He says, not totally untrue.

Zaarius nods. "In that case, you may leave your special tart on the red colored high shelves in the pantry. They are temperature controlled and it is unlikely anyone will disturb it. And if anyone tries I will remove their fingers."

Khopesh smiles with delight. "Excellent! Thank you cousin!" He trots off to do just that.

5:00 PM

"Again, let the power flow." Dölgöön says.

You sit, in mediation, you've been going back and forth between physical and psychic training. It was meant to not only build your body, but force you to use your power even after difficult physical strain.

And it Was difficult, running, push-ups, burpees, squats, climbing over obstacles; putting you through a battery of exercises then having you spend your rest periods testing your powers.

Anrir was also overseeing, taking notes, and having both Dölgöön and Karlsor comment on the visual aspect you couldn't see.

You had begun to notice certain sensations though. You could now feel the subtle shift when power was Moving, you even had a decent sense of its direction.

You also found it flowed Down the gradient, aka Psychery flows from where it is concentrated to where it is not.

Ganbold seemed to shiver a bit as you held both his and Dölgöön's hands. As the non psycher, the energy flowed Through you, to him. Psychic conductor, Anrir had called it.

"Ganbold, describe the sensation you are experiencing." Anrir asks.

Ganbold shifts a bit in place. "Feels like...impatience," he calls back. "Like I barely feel the flow itself...but I feel what its doing to me. I feel like I need to run. Not from fear...but because I Want to." He explains, his foot fidgeting a bit.

"And you, Dölgöön?"

The quieter of the two White Scars takes a moment. "I feel...at ease," He states. "My power is being siphoned, but in its place I feel a sense of calm. Like a buzzing energy is being soothed or removed."

"Fascinating...Lullaby, can you try to...intentionally move more power from Dölgöön to Ganbold?"

"Like push it to flow faster...let me see," you close your eyes and though your arms are still sore you focus. You imagine the subtle flow you feel moving faster, like pulling a spool of thread more quickly. You even tense your muscles as if you were pulling.

You feel your Own energy go up, much like it had with Pyrus. So maybe you need to Also Push so the energy doesn't just stay put.

You focus on the arm held by Ganbold, and imagine Pushing the flow faster and harder, your muscles tense accordingly and-

Zap! "Oh!"

Well that was new. "We got another Zap Anrir!" You call to the Nightlord who's documenting.

Karlsor dims his warp sight and confirms the same. "More power came in when they pulled, had a brighter glow and shit. Then the bigger glow got pushed out when they well...pushed and it seemed to Spark when it made contact with Ganbold. There was a constant flow of the...less fuckin concentrated energy going on too, pulling the bigger glow ball didn't stop the overall flow of psychery." He says.

"Incredible," Anrir mutters with a...somewhat disconcerting look on his face. "Was the zap caused by pushing energy Too fast or because the recipient was not a Psycher? More testing will need to be conducted with partners of different And similar psychic ability..."

Beep beep beep, a timer goes off, and you  suppressed a groan. "Well either way that's your break. Let's get back on the beat with upper body!" Ganbold declares...clearly receiving a boost and going to make it your problem.

You got a small boost from that too, even felt a Little less sore. Primary word being a Little.

"Okay! Let's go!" You huff standing back up on your legs that only protested slightly.

Xerxes, true to what he said, watches beside Anrir. You'd greeted him when he'd come in though there was a moment of awkwardness.

"I'm not going to have chaos psychery flowing into me, even If the conduit is you. I am sorry Horseman, but I will not take the risk." Dölgöön said.

Not like you could argue. If he wasn't comfortable he wasn't comfortable. Xerxes didn't seem bothered at least. "Ahh...no need for fret...Grandfather's gifts are meant...to be received with...open arms...I would not...and Will not force you..." He grinned, Dölgöön and Ganbold grimaced, but did not make comment about him staying to observe.

He does make a comment to Anrir. "Have you tested...if the warp power can be forced...Against the gradient...towards the greater psycher rather than flowing away?"

Anrir hummed. "That will be another test we will need to line up. When are you best available to participate if needed."

As the two chat, and Karlsor reclines, you focus on your bicep curls, keeping mind to your form while the White Scars count your reps.

5:45 PM Elsewhere in the Base

Lightning claws crackled as they made comment with the White Scar captain's blade, causing a shower of sparks to light the sparring floor. Khopesh pulled back and struck again, letting his savage and feral instincts as a Nightlord lead him to try and overwhelm his opponent.

It seemed to work for a moment, Captain Esen steped back, but as Khopesh mobilized to put the Captain off his feet, he was struck with a Powerful counter to his side.

Khopesh rolled and sprung again. The Captain locks his blade into the Claws. This time Khopesh pulls one back, attempting to catch the Captain under the arm while the others are locked.

Only to get a rude awakening, when the Captain takes one hand from his Chain Sword! Uses the Momentum to force Khopesh's locked Claw down, catches the swinging Lighting claw with his armored foreman and Pulls Khopesh into a brutal Headbutt.

Even through armor that Stings like a mother fucker, Khopesh reals back and it about to go for another pounce even while dizzy.

Ding ding! The round bell sounds, Khopesh pulls himself back, and Captain Esen sheaths his sword.

"Your instincts will get you Killed against a Custodian Scout." Esen says gruffly. "You need more tactics, to go with that feral energy. If you give them the opening you gave me you're liable to just get batted aside, and killed."

Khopesh pulls off his helmet and spits the blood from his mouth. "Again then! The more I fight the better I will be! I Must Be Better!" He proclaims.

"Hydration First," Batu insists, handing one each to the combatants. Khopesh chugs his greedily. Esen also drinks, but it is a bit more controlled.

"That's what is needed most Scout." Malkos says, coming into the ring. "If we are to accomplish our goal or simply Survive we must all Be Better than we are now. But you cannot become better if you stick to the same tactics...if you can even call them that."

Khopesh huffed, loathing that the Iron Warrior is correct. Malkos glances to Esen and Batu, they'd all partaken in various bouts, and pairings. It was an exercise to expose them to the fighting styles of their allies, and make them more capable in the face of their great enemy.

"We will work on it. For now let us pivot to more...general training. I'll be deactivating all our armors, 50 laps around the base Move it!"

Khopesh nods, he can do that. He Can become a better outright fighter...he Has to incase the plan they create hits a snag and he's forced to duel the Custodes alongside his allies. He Has to be better

He Has To Be.

6:30 PM

You lug your tired body out of the training room. Sore, exhausted but...feeling good all things considered.

You're going to be awful sore tomorrow, but you'll be stronger Too and you really like that idea.

Strong like your Khopesh, you think...well no you'd never get anywhere close to that but you could be the strongest You and that is a fine goal to aspire to.

As you walk along your see a familiar head of short dark hair. He's walking alongside two other familiar backs.

"Claude!" You call out, which causes the Raven/Nightlord Primaris to turn around. His face lights up when he sees who's called him.

"Lullaby!" He trots back to you, and you meet him half way. The others have turned, and indeed its Cedric and Jophiel. "You smell of sweat, and are walking with restrained movements...have you just come from training?"

You nod your head. "Yep, I got Worked over today, both mind and body." You say as you walk alongside the Primaris, careful to not spew any...classified info in a public hallway. "Ganbold and Dölgöön put together one Hell of a workout. I still love working with Pyrus of course, but since he's on a date with Satyr it worked out to have multiple teachers. I was just heading to the cafeteria to meet Khopesh, he said he had a surprise for me."

"We are going there as well." Cedric chimes in. "Would you like to walk with us?" You don't immediately notice the way Jophiel's expression...changes when Cedric offers, you're just happy to see them.

"Sure! Hope you don't mine me being a little slower...even more than usual." You say jokingly.

"I can carry you if you'd like?" Claude offers.

You're about to respond, but Jophiel suddenly gets Claude's attention. There's a brief exchange in Gothic, which you don't have much recognition with. (Karlsor Has taught you some...colorful words but none of them pop up here.)

Claude actually looks...a little frustated, and Jophiel simply puts his hands up as of saying 'fine fine.' A knot forms in the pit of your stomach, you have a (surely irrational...surely) feeling that the exchange was...about you.

"Ah...it's okay if ya'll...want to go on ahead. I'll catch up." You offer, rubbing your arm awkwardly.

Claude gives Jophiel a Look, before turning back to you. "Nonsense, you deserve a break with all the hard work you've put in. Here." He offers you his ceramite glad forearm.

Well...you might as well. You carefully seat yourself, and Claude picks you up. You think you look a bit like a bird riding on its owner's forearm, but it is more comfortable than walking right now.

The cafeteria comes into view before long with a particular head of long hair standing outside it. "Khopesh!" You call out, full of happy energy to Finally see your boo after a long day.

The Nightlord whips his head, and sees your group approaching. "Lullaby!" He responds, picking up his speed so he can meet you.

Rather than setting you down, Claude carefully hands you off to Khopesh who embraces you with a tight, but not painful embrace. The warmth and closeness feels like the perfect balm on your aching muscles.

Khopesh exchanged greetings with the Primaris who then decide to go get in line for food. You give Claude one last hug, and even see Ced looking a bit...wanting?

So you offer one. "Would you be okay with one too Ced?"

"Ah...well..." The Apothecary in training looks a little awkward, even glances at Jophiel who...still doesn't look exactly...pleased. "I will have a brief one, as I am very hungry." He decides eventually so you have one.

Jophiel...part of you doesn't want to ask but also you'd feel rude for not- "I Am...not much for hugs. Thank you though." Oh thank God he beat you to it. Though...still feels a little uncomfortable.

But you push that aside...even though part of you feels like a month should be enough time to...maybe warm up to you? Even just a little?

Pushing aside, your Khopesh needs attention.

"How was your day Sweetness?" You ask after a few kisses too of course.

"Long and Aaaaaagonizing without you! My Lullaby." He purrs. "But productive...I suppose. I aided Brother Cousin Zaarius with tonight's dinner menu!"

"You did? That's so cool! Did you help with everything or just some things? I wanna try the stuff you made..." You say eagerly joining the lines for food.

Khopesh smiles, just a little smugly. "First is the poultry legs with a Raspberry glaze," He stated grabbing a Huge leg for you...must be turkey. "Then the delightful mixed veggetables sauted with Italian seasoning, and cannot forget the sweet potato fries!"

"Love me some sweet potato fries." You agreed. Khopesh grabbed much the same items as you just in bigger portions.

"And for dessert I must ask you to wait on grabbing anything my sweet Lullaby."

You glanced at the fruit tarts, "But they look so Good!"

"They are acceptable...but they are not Perfect." He hums, you don't understand what he means but you follow anyway to a table so you two can eat.

Throughout dinner you discuss your days more. You devour the turkey leg eagerly and the warmth of the sweet potato fries, and the delicious veggies fills the gnawing hunger in your belly. "This is amazing! You did so good!"

Khopesh smiles, you can see his blushing cheeks. "Thank you my darling but there is One more course for tonight's meal. Please wait here."

He makes a quick trip into the kitchen and returns with a small box, which he places before you.

"And the final Course for the evening..." He states with fanfair before opening the box to reveal...another Fruit Tart? It's looks Very good but you're slightly confused, until Khopesh elaborates. "This was the most Perfect one I made today, and I wanted You to have it."

You Feel Your Heart Melting. "Ooooh Khopesh!" You bring your Nightlord into a hug, and give your precious a smooch on his forehead head. "Its beautiful! I love it!"

You carefully take the tart from its box, and bring it up to your mouth. The first bite brings a burst of sweet creamy flavor, complimented by the slight acidity in the fruits, and the mildness of the crumbly pie like crust. You hum with happiness. "So good!" You hold up the tart to him. "It's your perfect tart too. I want you to have some." You say. "You deserve it."

Khopesh's blush deepens and he stammers a bit. "Ah well I appreciate it my Lullaby but..."

"I already snacked on quite a few tarts today...I Was in the kitchen and there Were quite a few that didn't make the cut for the  dessert line."

Oh...that makes sense. "Oh I see, okay well I'll enjoy this for both of us then!" You say, happily eating and savoring your special treat as Khopesh watches with satisfaction.

"You know..." You posit, bringing yourself closer to your Nightlord. "I still think you deserve a Reward for all your hard work today. Mind if I treat you to some other dessert...in say...your room after Dinner?"

Khopesh looks confused for a moment, then the realization dawns. "Oh...sweet Lullaby...how could I Ever say no?"

You smile, your own blush flushing your skin and your core tingling with anticipation. "I hope you find me sweet enough, Sweetness..."

8:00 PM

"...ulp! ulp! Ulp! Ulp! ULP mm-sLLLUUUUUUP."

"Oh, OooOh Lul-lu-byyyy...!"

You grinned, as well as you were able with a prick in your mouth. Slurping, licking, kissing, even a teeny tiny bit -

"Ack! Ooooh~" Of nibbling. Just a bit.

"Mmmmmm...." You hummed with satisfaction, and to further pleasure your Nightlord.

Khopesh leaned back on his dark bedding; tangling one hand into his own hair, the other rested on your head. Your own body rests chest down between his powerful scarred  legs.

Well...maybe rests is the wrong word. You have Very important work at hand.

Namely making sure your Sweet Khopesh feels loved and pleasured Properly.

"Mmmm-mwahhhslllp!" You pulled your lips from his cock with a delightful amount of suction, as your hand continued to stroke up and down his shaft.

"Oh yes! Y-es!" Bingo, wet warmth splattered over your lips and mouth, just as you wanted.

"Mmm" You hum contentedly, tapping and swiping your tongue cheekily over the head of Khopesh's cock while the Nightlord reclines with slightly heightened breaths.

Delicious, your mind purrs. Not the cum, that's mostly acrid and bitter.

"You look so good Sweetness," You coo, pushing yourself up and crawling up his body till you and Khopesh are chest to chest.

You wipe a bit of the cum from your lips, but you don't waste it. You Know he loves when you mark yourself with his scent. So you lap the acrid gene fluid off your fingers, wiping the rest on your neck, and down your chest.

"Mmm...Mine." Khopesh purred with approval, pulling you closer for a kiss.

"Yours," You affirm, grinding back and forth slowly but firmly so your damp flesh traces over his sickened girth.

"PrrrrrrrrrRRRrrrrRrrrRRRRRRRR!"

SMaCk! "Eep!" You feel your cheeky sweet lay a grasping slap onto your round soft ass cheeks, making you squeak. "Naughty thing," You fake chastise. "I Just sucked you off and you're already pressing my pussy down so you can get off again, insatiable!"

"HmmrrrrrrMm?" Khopesh didn't respond with words, but instead gave you his own cheeky pout back. As if saying, 'but don't I Deserve it?' Trying to look cute, while not being able to hide the smug smile turning up the corners of his mouth. His arm placed casually behind his head also didn't help his ploy to look Needy.

You huff, again without any real annoyance. "Fine, have your fun Sweetness." You whisper, bringing your hands up to tangle in the long dark hair you loved so much. You press your lips to his as you continue to grind, before whispering in his ear. "Have your fill~"

"Gladly!" He growled, and suddenly your world went sideways, and upside down. Your focus returned with you on your back against the velvet dark sheets, your Nightlord leering above you with hunger in his eyes.

You felt your stomach flip nervously, but also with delightful anticipation. Would he ravish you with his mouth or fuck you with his flushed dripping member.

You didn't have to wait long to find out, seems all your teasing had left him impatient. Gripping your wrists and sides with almost enough force to bruise, he pulls you onto his cock with almost no mercy. You let out a pathetic whining moan at the stretch and you briefly remember how grateful you are he insisted on fingering you pre-blowjob.

But rather than immediately setting to fucking your brains out, Khopesh simply let's out a languid sigh underscored by his vibrating purrs.

Ah...now you understand, you think bleary from pleasure. The Nightlord lays atop you (carefully, with mind not to squish you with his full weight) and rather than rough pounding he instead grinds, pulling out only slightly before pressing back into your silky wet depths.

Plap, plap, plap, plap

The soft sounds from your joining heighten your arousal, and you feel the urge to squirm and grind. Closer, you want to be closer.

But being held and used like its also- so So arousing.

"Mm! Mm! Mm MM! MmMM!!!" Your peak hits, driven by the grinding warmth and closeness. You clench and tense and tremble.

"L-lullaby! Yes, yes Yeeeeeeees~" You glance up, Khopesh looks wrecked, sweaty, and Needy and so So Close. His hair is disarray, his pale skin glowing, his eyes looking drunk and doped up on pleasure, his Tongue is even hanging out and you can see his adorable little fangs. (Little?? They're the size of arrow heads.)

Even in your restrained state you wriggle  angle yourself up, trying desperately to meet him for a kiss. "Kiss! Wana kisshyu!" You slur breathlessly, that causes your Sweet one to smile.

Sharp shiny teeth so Pretty, want to feel their bite~

Khopesh's grin doesn't falter, and neither does his pace, now in fact it gets faster. You think you're climbing again. "Of course! My Love! My Lullaby! Mine Mine Mine Mine!" He gasps, swallowing your pleas with his lips.

You moan and kiss and your eyes roll back when his tongue sweeps forcefully into your mouth. Being joined and aligned, skin to skin, body to body is what pushes you both over the edge.

"Mm! MM! MMM!" You moan through a full mouth as Khopesh let's out a snarling groan for his own pleasure, pushing as far as he can go so his milky warmth fills you at your deepest place.

You love him being so close.

Plap, plap..plap...plap...

The aftershocks last a while, with Khopesh's pace slowing with them. "Mmm-mmm...mwa..." You two finally discontent from eachother's lips, and you actually think you taste a little blood.

Whether it's from your chapped lips or his teeth cutting them your can't tell, and as long as you're not losing a gallon you don't really mind.

"Mmm...Sweetness..." You whine, wriggling just a little, he's still got your arms pinned to your sides. "Wanna hold you...please?" You plea, putting all your left over energy into your want for closeness; as if Khopesh wasn't still basically laying on top of you.

"Rrrrrrrr- Of course dear one...." Khopesh hums, clearly more relaxed than he had been Before the encounter.

Fuck yeah, mission accomplished. You think happily, as your Nightlord gathers you up in his arms.

"Hmmm, Sweetness..." You mumble, nuzzling up close as your body cools, and heart slows.

Your sweetness...Your Khopesh. You shift a little, so your face is pressed to your Nightlords skin.

"Hm...what is it my Lul-OH!"

You bite, suck and the lick a hickey onto Khopesh's clavicle. "Mine..." You mumble, still a bit dopey and floaty.

You hear Khopesh exhale, then laugh with delight. "Yours..." He affirms, snuggling closer.

After a while, the wet turns to an uncomfortable stickiness. "Hey Sweetness," You say, now back to your mostly normal voice, though a Little raw from taking him into your throat. "Can we hit the showers? I'm feeling crusty."

Khopesh smiles. "Of course Lullaby." He purrs, carefully stepping down from his bed with you still held safely in his arms.

The warm water feels like Heaven on your tired body. You take turns lathering eachother with soap, massaging sore muscles, washing hair and rinsing.

Soon you're wrapped in fluffy towels and being carried back to Khopesh's base bed. You'd prepared appropriately and had water and your medicines with you.

You kiss your love sweetly, now dressed in clean dry pajamas. "Goodnight Sweetness." You coo, already drifting.

"Sleep Well my Darling, Lullaby." Khopesh returns, running long pale fingers through your hair.

For now, in this moment, all is right in the world.

[freesia-writes]

Howzer + Aurelia Ch. 34 - Opening Up

Beginning with his shiny days, this story follows Howzer's character arc through some heartwarming romance, action, adventure, yearning, angst, and growth.

Content/Trigger Warnings for Entire Work (individual chapters not labeled): wartime peril, injury, and death; sexual assault up to kissing; relationship passion up to making out and heavy petting; sexual relationship alluded to (smut is posted separately); pregnancy, birthing trauma, and stillbirth (chapters 30-39, can be skipped and still keep up with the story).

Master List of Chapters

Word Count: 2.9k (eep!)

34. Opening Up

"We've got a full workup coming in," the nurse said, flipping pages on her clipboard. "Sounds like he was just rescued from some remote mountain. He's been shot, but they say he's alright, although there's a note on here to check his mental faculties. Something about an explosion, head injury... Whoever wrote this made a complete mess of it."

"Not much of the standard protocols left, it seems," Lennox said, shrugging dismissively. "Let's get him in here. Aurelia, can you please prep the diagnostic bed?"

"On it, Doc," came the reply, as Aurelia bumped a nearby cart with her mildly protruding belly. It had been another couple of months, full of the rhythm of work, rest, and the ever-changing spectrum of pregnancy quirks. Thankfully, the lingering first trimester symptoms had mercifully subsided. Her energy had returned, including an extra spark that she hadn't anticipated, and her baby bump had finally started to show. It was still fairly small, but she frequently found herself rubbing it with fondness, smiling as she thought to herself about all that it represented. 

"I told you! I'm fine!" a voice came from the hall, slightly louder than usual, as a flustered nurse ushered in a clone. He looked diminutive, as they all did without their armor, and his unique appearance was even further accentuated by his strikingly sharp features. His cheeks seemed to be more angular than most, and his expressive eyebrows were working overtime to convey his displeasure. Aurelia smirked at the bravado, but the lighthearted observation was immediately replaced by a stabbing pain as her eyes rose to his hair: he had a faded undercut that reminded her of Howzer, though instead of being thick and tousled on top, it was smooth and laid flat against his skull. 

"You alright?" Lennox asked, appearing at her side. He seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to her, and she could never quite decide if it was helpful or annoying. 

"Yeah, sorry. Just distracted," she flubbed, turning away to continue entering the protocol on the diagnostic bed. 

"Thank you, nurse," Lennox said kindly, turning to face the clone and rising to his full height, standing a good few inches over the head of the newcomer. "Alright, CC-5576 is it?"

"That's my number, sir, but Gregor is my name!" came the answer, and Aurelia tilted her head to inspect him again. He was a standard clone, but his voice had a unique lilt to it that caught her attention. It was hard to describe -- somehow slightly higher in pitch than the others, and as he continued talking, she noticed a periodic squeak on various syllables. She punched in an additional command on the screen for a more thorough vocal cord inspection in addition to the brain scan. 

"Alright, Gregor," Lennox continued evenly. "I understand it's a bother, but we'd like to make sure you're all good to go, and we'll get you back out there in no time. Maybe we can see if we can modify the machine to give you some superpowers while you're in there, eh?" He had a variety of approaches with patients, attempting a variety of humor, discipline, paternal sternness, and gentleness until he found the particular combination that worked for each clone. Aurelia was amazed at his ability to connect with such a wide array of personalities, and she had learned quite a bit in this area during the last four months of working with him. 

"Oh!" Gregor said, "Well now you're talking!" He followed it with a sudden giggle that brought a smile to Aurelia's face without her permission. That was a new one. 

"All you have to do is lie still for a while and we'll do the rest from here, alright Captain?" Lennox said, noting Gregor's title from the clipboard, which seemed to go a long way in increasing the clone's respect for him and led to subsequent cooperation. With a grin, he hopped onto the diagnostic bed with a bit of a wince, moving a hand to his chest where his blaster wounds had been stabilized on the journey to Coruscant. "We'll take care of those as well," Lennox assured him as he flattened himself on the gurney, which slowly slid into a large plastoid tube that whirred to life as the captain disappeared within. 

"Do you know him?" Lennox asked Aurelia as they watched the data screen populate with various readings. 

"Him? No, why?"

"You just had a funny look when you saw him."

"Ah," she said, shrugging dismissively, "My face looks funny sometimes, I guess."

"Why do you keep pushing us all away?" Lennox asked gently, reaching out as if to place a hand on her shoulder but rethinking it last minute, moving it quickly to the side to grab a tissue analyzer that he didn't really need. "Wouldn't it be nice to have someone to comfort you? To share in your thoughts, both the good and the bad? There are wonderful people here, who truly care..." he drifted off for a minute, swallowing hard. "I mean, I'm here for you, but even if you don't want to confide in me, that's fine... I just know the value of having someone that feels like... I don't know... a counterpart of sorts. You know? You don't have to do it all alone." 

There was a wistful tone to his voice, and Aurelia studied his face intently, with a sudden realization that perhaps his friendliness toward her had evolved into more than just decency. A flurry of emotions swirled around at once: self-criticism for not having seen it before, immediate guilt at the thought of letting anyone in other than Howzer, and a yearning for that kind of companionship that she'd been in complete denial about. 

"I have that..." she attempted, voice falling flat. 

Lennox remained silent for a moment, eyes roving the ground as though it would give him guidance. When he looked back up at her, he put forth a small smile and a brisk nod as he returned the tissue analyzer to the counter. "Alright," he said, though he didn't look convinced. He always wanted to respect her boundaries, though it was his very nature to try to help anyone in any kind of pain. But he also realized that it couldn't be forced... All lessons he'd learned over years of both personal and professional experience. "Well, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here, and I know others are too. Alright?"

"Alright," Aurelia answered, meeting his gaze. "I appreciate it, Len. Really, I do... I'll keep it in mind."

"Good girl," he said cheerfully, reaching up to pinch the bottom of her chin playfully, but Aurelia flinched and backed up suddenly in a seemingly disproportionate reaction. "Whoa!" Lennox said, putting both hands in the air in submission, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be out of line...? I apologize..." He watched her closely, confused by her immediate reactivity and the unequivocal look of disgust on her face. He thought they'd reached a comfortable level of closeness and friendship, and he was surprised at the hurt he felt in response to the abhorrence on her face.

"Sorry," Aurelia breathed, though she didn't know why she was apologizing. As she processed it all, and waves of the past washed over her, she shook her head. "It's not you. I just... Please don't ever call me 'good girl', okay?"

"Of course," Lennox said gently, lowering his hands at a snail's pace. 

"I had a boss, back on Ryloth," Aurelia proceeded, the words flying out as though they needed to escape. "He was a slimy, gross, smooth talker who worked for the Empire. I was his assistant, but I was basically supposed to do whatever he wanted. Or so he thought...His name was Moss Gowden..." She shuddered at the thoughts, face contorted. "He was always hitting on me, always whispering nasty stuff... And he used to say 'good girl' under his breath whenever I answered his requests. It made my skin crawl."

The indignation and anger were plain on Lennox's face as he listened, and he clenched his fists at his sides for a second before releasing them and letting out a slow breath. "That must have been awful," he commiserated, leaving space for her to share more if she wished, hoping that she would continue to open up. He felt as though he were diffusing a bomb -- one wrong move and things would never be the same. And he desperately wanted to get it right. 

"It was," Aurelia conceded. "I kept refusing him, trying to keep it professional... So one night he put spice in my food and waited until I could barely stand, then he tried to take advantage of me." Tears swelled in her eyes, and she looked up at the ceiling to try to hold them back. "He probably would have, too, if not for..." she faltered, lost in the splintered memory of Howzer's rescue. Lennox knew better than to inquire any further, and instead opened his arms slightly to the sides in a nonverbal invitation for comfort and closeness. 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Aurelia gave in. It had felt like ages since she'd been held, and she'd felt so alone, as though she'd been ripped in half. In that moment, she felt like a child, lost and scared, longing someone to simply take care of her when she'd been working so hard to take care of herself. She stepped forward, allowing Lennox to wrap her in a gentle hug, her own arms hanging awkwardly at her sides. He was significantly taller than her, and the small indent where his ribcage split apart made a perfect place for her to hide her face. 

Tears stole silently down her cheeks, wetting the front of his white uniform, and he lifted a hand to peaceably stroke the top of her head. He felt as though his heart were exploding in his chest. He didn't know how he'd come to be so fond of her, but she was brilliant and witty, strong and resilient, and had piqued his interest within the first few weeks of her arrival. He sympathized for her situation even though she didn't want him to, and he felt a strong desire to lighten her burdens. He'd caught a few glimpses of her humor, as well as brief flashes of curiosity, wonder, and delight that had warmed him to the core. She carried so much, and yet kept everyone at an arm's length even within the congenial friendships she enjoyed. Her heart seemed to be set on another, even though she didn't appear to hold much hope of his return. How someone could hold that kind of affection along with a stark sense of realism was beyond him, but it only increased his fascination. 

"If not for what?" came a squeaky voice from inside the diagnostic bed. Aurelia sprang back, surprised by the unexpected third party. 

"I thought they couldn't hear anything in there!" she hissed, wiping her eyes quickly. 

"They usually can't," Lennox grumbled, leaning down to speak loudly into the tube. "You have to stay still please, Captain. Even speaking could cause it to miss some of the micro details. Plus... this conversation is not for you, my friend." There was a slight edge of correction to his voice, though it remained affable overall. 

"Sorry!" was the singsong reply, "Just getting bored in here!"

Aurelia couldn't help but smile. The interruption was a welcome one, if she was honest. The consolation of Lennox's embrace had made her feel as ashamed as she felt gratified, and she'd been wrestling with a multitude of thoughts about it the entire time, which had felt like forever even though it was mere seconds. She appreciated the support, but it still felt wrong. She closed her eyes for a moment, envisioning the lazy evenings she'd spent wrapped up with Howzer on the couch, listening to his heartbeat and his husky voice, enveloped in perfect contentment and comfort. It felt like a lifetime ago, and the bittersweet reminiscence gave her a steadying sense of focus. She'd do everything she could to find him... whether he was dead or alive. The last thought made her stomach turn, and she opened her eyes, shaking her head briskly as if to chase the thoughts away. 

"It's about finished anyway," she said, distracting herself with the data panel. At a nod from Lennox, she tapped the screen and the machine's loud whirring slowed to a quiet buzz as the gurney slid out slowly, freeing Captain Gregor from the tube. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head and looking sheepishly back and forth between them.

"Sorry if I was eavesdropping," he said, "I didn't have much else to do..."

"It's alright," Aurelia answered, "I shouldn't be discussing that kind of stuff at work anyway."

Lennox tilted his head as if to say something, but he was cut off by an oblivious Gregor, "Eh, it's as good a place as any. Besides, he seems like a good one." He jabbed a thumb toward Lennox, who had apparently earned his complete approval in the short time they'd been acquainted.

"Thank you, Captain," Lennox said uneasily, slightly flustered in an endearing sort of way. "If we could get back to matters at hand, however..." He skimmed the datapad, tapping various points to enlarge the detail. "The blaster wound is healing well, and we'll cover it with a fresh bacta patch on your way out. That should finish the job. It says in your file that you survived an explosion on Abafar..."

"Karking right I did!" 

"Yes..." Lennox proceeded, smirking fondly at the enthusiasm. "Well, the lasting effects seem to be fairly minimal. Your motor skills are virtually uninhibited, and your brain function is surprisingly good, considering the trauma it received. I am seeing some damage, however, in the thalamus, as well as the hippocampal formations in your temporal lobe... There are also some rather permanent-looking lesions on the dorsal laryngeal motor cortex... "

"Whoa there, heh, can I get that in Basic, please?" Gregor lilted, looking to Aurelia for translation, who found his unfettered charisma a welcome respite from her troubling thoughts. 

"These areas in your brain are connected to memory, so you may suffer bouts of amnesia or mood swings," she began, interrupted once again. 

"I barely knew who I was before the explosion!" the commando interjected, "Some little bug man and his droid squad filled me in. So no surprise there!"

"You will likely have similar periods in the future, so finding a good support system and creating structures to remind yourself of things when it does happen would be a wise precaution," Aurelia suggested, "And the lesions are on the part of your brain that controls various elements of your vocal cords, including the pitch and cadence of your speech."

"Well noooo kidding..." Gregor marveled in mock surprise. "So I'm Captain Squeak from now on then, eh?" he chuckled as though it were an involuntary reaction. "Ah well. And what about my superpowers?"

Lennox smiled, patting the clone on the shoulder and inviting him to stand. "Your superpower seems to be that you are as difficult to kill as a spider-roach, my friend. You'll be a great asset to Captain Rex's team, should you choose to pursue that option."

"I'll take that as a compliment?" Gregor said, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. A disembodied voice came from the small comlink near the door -- the nurse informing the doctor of his attention required in another room. 

"Absolutely," Lennox answered, "Aurelia will get your chest mended with a new bacta patch, and you'll be on your way." He gave an appreciative wave as he exited, leaving the two of them staring at each other. 

"Would you prefer to stand?" Aurelia asked, tearing open a fresh patch and removing the protective strips from its adhesive. 

"Yes ma'am!" Gregor chirped, puffing out his chest with a smile. 

"We need to remove the top of your blacks, please."

"Ohhh, getting frisky now, are we?" His teasing was clearly harmless, and it brought Aurelia a fond memory of Pivot's innocuous advances at 79s. She found a genuine smile on her face once again; this clone was an undeniable ray of sunshine in seemingly any situation, and she was honestly grateful for it. "Juuust kidding," he giggled as he pulled his turtleneck over his head, revealing a surprisingly gnarly chest wound that was covered with fairly shoddy work. The scorched flesh peeked out from around the edges of the wrinkled and faded bacta patch, and Gregor's grin turned into more of a grimace as she removed it as tenderly as she could. 

"Sorry," she murmured, focusing intently on her work.

"You don't have to take it out on me," he muttered in return, hands gripping the edges of the diagnostic bed behind him. The patch was quickly freed from its enmeshment with his skin and hair, and Aurelia moved quickly to apply a soothing bacta spray, earning a deep sigh of relief from the commando. Her nurturing spirit warmed at the sight, and she felt a new sense of affirmation herself, inexplicably, some random inkling that perhaps things were going to be alright.

"By the way," Gregor said, bringing her awareness back to the present, "You should take it easy on that doc. He seems like an upstanding guy, and obviously cares a lot about you. Hard to come by good people these days, you know?" He waggled his eyebrows so suggestively that Aurelia's surprise was overshadowed by the levity of his expression, and she shook her head with a smile, fitting the fresh, large bacta patch across the side of his chest. 

"You're a fun one, Gregor."

.

Next Chapter

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

A Duel Between Brothers

Word count: 2750

Ok, so this one is one I started months ago, even before most of the other fics I've written, but I never finished it. I just randomly got inspired to finally write the ending. Hope it came out alright!

This one guest stars Thor (trying to write for some other characters here and there!)

* * *

All you had wanted was to sit quietly and watch some TV. Simple, really.

You didn’t expect to walk in on a full-on brawl between the two Asgardian brothers. If you could call it that, really.

You had been making your way down to the common area in the tower when you heard the shouting. At first you were concerned someone was in the process of being beaten to death, the yelling was so loud. Then you noticed the booming laughter strewn throughout the shouts, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Just the boys again… you thought, slowly approaching the doorway to the common area.

Thor and Loki often fought with one another, so this didn’t really come as a surprise to you. What you didn’t expect was to find Loki pinning his brother to the floor, Thor’s laughter echoing through the room as Loki tickled him mercilessly. The sight was sort of adorable.

“It’s not as enjoyable as it was when we were children when you are on the receiving end, now, is it brother?” Loki taunted. Thor reached up to shove his brother off, but Loki was agile, his fingers darting under the elder brother’s arms so he’d clamp them down at his sides.

You felt heat prickle in your cheeks as you stood quietly in the doorway. You were quite ticklish yourself, although no one in the tower was privy to that information just yet. It was unclear whether you were happy or disappointed by this – you actually enjoyed being tickled, in a fun, playful, sometimes flirty way. You also had a weird tendency to feel ‘sympathy ticklish’ when you saw someone else being tickled. Of course, these weren’t things you wanted to openly admit. So, you tried to stay out of the way in the rare instances you came across a tickle fight such as this in the tower.

After watching for a few moments, you already felt tingles on your sides and a small smile growing on your face. You turned to walk back out of the room quietly before the boys noticed your presence. Unfortunately, you’d waited just a moment too long.

“Lady Y/N! Plehehease! I-I require assistance!” Thor begged. You stopped dead in your tracks and spun back around to find both Thor and Loki’s eyes on you. Loki had let up on his brother for a moment as he observed you with a questioning look.

“Oh, uh… I don’t want to get in the middle of this. Sorry Thor, you’re on your own,” you stammered, remaining at a safe distance in the doorway.

“Were you planning to use the common room, Y/N? Please, don’t feel you need to leave on our accord,” Loki insisted, resuming his attack. You took a few gradual steps into the room, unsure how best to proceed from here. If you appeared too anxious and left, surely, you’d give yourself away. If you stayed, you’d have to watch the boys fighting, and your expression may also give you away. You opted for a sort of in-between option for now, standing a few feet away from the brothers but not yet making yourself comfortable.

“Are you sure I won’t be in the way?” you asked timidly, though loudly enough to be heard over Thor’s boisterous laughter.

“Please. Sit down. Pay us no mind,” Loki insisted, conversing casually as if he wasn’t currently torturing his brother. Reluctantly, you sat gingerly on the couch and picked up the remote to turn on the TV.

You couldn’t bring yourself to relax into the couch cushions, so you sat unmoving while trying to avoid looking at the brothers on the floor a few feet away. You couldn’t help but steal an occasional glance at the pair. It was taking everything you had not to start giggling nervously as you watched Loki tormenting his brother. You could only imagine what it would be like if you were in Thor's position...

“Were you planning to use the remote? Or were you simply hoping the television would magically turn itself on?” Loki asked, jerking you from your thoughts.

“What?” You looked down at the remote in your hand, still unused. “Oh. Yes. I was going to watch some TV.”

“You seem a bit… uneasy,” Loki noted, finally releasing his brother as he turned his full attention to you.

“Brother, you will pay for-“ Thor was silenced before he could finish his threat as Loki held his hand up, silencing him.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

“You clearly seem distracted by something. Normally you’re shoving people out of the way to get to the remote to watch your silly reality television programs, but today you seem to have forgotten how to turn the television on. And you’re stiff as a post.” His eyes narrowed a bit as he tried to analyze your expression, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Loki. I’m fine.” You leaned back against the couch cushions to prove your point and propped your feet up on the coffee table, aiming the remote at the TV. Before you could press the ‘on’ button, Loki stepped between you and the cable box, a slow smirk spreading across his lips.

“Tell me, Y/N… are you ticklish?” Your eyes widened for a moment, almost imperceptibly, at the unexpected question. Quickly, though, you tried to regain your composure, clearing your throat, and steeling yourself.

“No, Loki. What would make you think that?” you inquired, fighting to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You’re not exactly subtle, darling.” The mischievous glint in his eye made you jumpy, and you slowly rose to your feet to move away from the advancing Asgardian. “For one, you’ve been blushing furiously since entering the room to find me torturing my brother. And that is only after you attempted to leave before we noticed your presence.” He started to take a few steps toward you as you slowly backed away, cursing your face for having betrayed you. “In addition, you’re already attempting to hide what I assume to be your most vulnerable areas,” he gestured at your arms folded across your ribs, which you promptly lowered to your sides. Your back suddenly met the cold plaster of the wall, and you mentally cursed yourself for literally backing yourself into a corner.

“I-I really think you’re o-overanalyzing this, Loki… you’re just being r-ridiculous,” you insisted, pressing yourself flat against the wall as Loki blocked your exit, placing a hand against the wall on either side of your head.

“Oh, am I?” His face was now only inches away from yours as his impish smirk continued to grow bigger. “Well, darling – there’s only one way to find out.”

Without any additional warning, he brought his hands down to latch onto your sides. The suddenness of his movement made you shriek as you grabbed hold of his wrists. He kept his fingers still, pressing just gently enough into your skin to set your nerves on fire.

"Wait, wait, wait! C-can't we talk about this?" you asked nervously, the god leering down at you with an evil grin on his face. He applied just a bit more pressure with his fingers, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

"Any last words?" Loki asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"I- eep!!" You opened your mouth to respond, but he suddenly began kneading his fingers into the soft skin of your sides, causing you to squeal and begin giggling rapidly. Your knees buckled as your muscles weakened with laughter, and you slid down the wall as you sank to the floor.

“Oh no, you’re not going to escape that easily,” Loki teased, halting his attack to scoop you up off the floor and carry you over to the couch, holding fast despite your thrashing.

“Whyhyhy?!” you cried, still giggling from the residual ticklish tingles in your sides and the giddiness you felt at suddenly being swept up into Loki’s arms. “What did I do to you??”

“God of Mischief, darling,” Loki mused, dropping you unceremoniously on the couch you’d been seated on when this all began. Before you could move to escape, he planted himself down on your legs to keep you from kicking him as he dug his fingers into your sides once again. You batted at his hands with your own, trying to cover your weak spots as best as possible. “Now, Y/N, you’re making this difficult. Thor, a little assistance here please?”

“Certainly, brother!” Thor obliged, grasping your wrists and pinning them above your head, leaving you feeling even more vulnerable to Loki’s ticklish onslaught.

“Thohohor! Why are you helping him??” you pleaded, tugging at your arms to no avail.

“I apologize, Lady Y/N, but you should have assisted me when I requested your help,” Thor replied, his tone somber but his eyes bright with amusement. “In addition, you are adorably ticklish!” You groaned, your face burning even more, if that were even possible.

“Now then, tell me – where else are you 'not' ticklish?” Loki queried, moving his torturous fingers to your belly without awaiting an answer. You shrieked and squirmed a bit harder, which Loki turned into a game, moving both hands to one side and then rapidly switching to the other when you twisted and exposed yourself. “You’re not doing a very good job maintaining your blatant lies, Y/N.”

“OKAHAHAHAY! I’m ticklihihish! You wihihin!” you implored.

“Yes, I believe we’ve established that, thank you,” Loki replied sarcastically. “I’m having too much fun now to let you off that easily. Where was it you were trying to hide? Oh yes, I remember!” He dug his fingers into your ribs and your laughter grew more desperate, your muscles turning to jelly as he spidered up and down your ribcage.

Meanwhile, you felt another five fingers start scratching underneath one of your arms. You squealed, glancing up to see Thor hovering over you with a huge grin on his face, still grasping both your wrists in his other hand.

“NOHOHO THOR!!” you pleaded, the sensation overwhelming you between Loki’s fingertips drilling in between your ribs while Thor simultaneously spidered his fingers in the hollows under your arms, swapping between each side to keep you squirming.

“Brother, we do not want to kill our little friend here,” Thor warned as your laughter was growing silent, hiccoughing intermittently.

“I suppose you’re right,” Loki agreed, stilling his fingers against your upper ribs but not yet releasing you completely. Even the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your sides, unmoving, was unbearable; keeping you giggling and squirming. “I’m not even tickling you! Have you gone mad?”

“Nohoho, I can’t help ihihit!” you whined. Loki finally let go of your ribcage and Thor released your wrists, allowing you to breathe for a moment.

You certainly weren’t expecting to get yourself in this predicament when you’d entered the common room. You supposed you could have maybe pictured a situation like this with Thor, but never with Loki. While he did have a trickster reputation, you’d never really thought of him as the playful type.

You’d become friends with Thor almost immediately. On numerous occasions, you’d hung out with him and some of the other Avengers in between missions, showing him the art of Midgardian video games and laughing at his overenthusiastic excitement. In a way, Thor was like the older brother you never had.

With Loki, things were different. During the few months you’d been living in the compound, you had interacted with Loki only intermittently during mealtimes or in the training room. He didn’t say much except to his brother, but his sharp wit and sarcastic sense of humor had drawn you to him, and not in a familial sense. It was odd, really; you had only said a few words to him here and there, and yet you felt yourself falling for him hard and fast. There had been just a few longer conversations that you treasured – discussions about a mission, or a novel he was reading or a movie you had watched. He was always friendly when you spoke, but it was hard to know how interested he really was in chatting with you.

You’d been hoping to capture his attention somehow, but around Loki you seemed to forget how to formulate proper sentences. Never in a million years did you expect to find yourself pinned down and tickled senseless by the God of Mischief. But now that it was happening, you weren’t ready for it to end just yet.

You seized the opportunity while Loki and Thor thought you were still weakened from laughter to reach out and grab hold of Loki’s sides, getting in a quick squeeze or two before he grabbed hold of your wrists.

“Haven’t had enough, yet, have we? Oh darling, you’re going to regret that,” Loki warned ominously, pinning your wrists to his chest with one hand and digging into your ribs once again. A new wave of helpless giggles spilled from your lips, and you yanked desperately to pry your wrists out of Loki’s grasp. “It’s adorable that you think you can escape me, really. I am a god – do you truly think your strength outmatches mine while you are in such a weakened state?”

“Lohoho… Loki!! Stahahahp teasing!” you pleaded.

You hadn’t noticed Thor’s absence above your head until you felt a large hand wrap around your ankle. You shrieked as a finger traced the bottom of your foot, tugging your leg to pull out of Thor’s grasp.

“Brother, what in the nine realms are you doing to make her thrash so much?” Loki asked, turning to look back at Thor without halting his attack on your ribs.

“Well, brother, it appears our little friend has ticklish feet as well,” he responded casually, an air of amusement in his tone as he wrapped both ankles in a headlock with one arm and fluttered his fingers up and down both soles simultaneously with his free hand.

“GUHUHUYS!! I CAHAHAN’T!!” you shrieked through wild laughter.

“I suppose we should let up so our dear mortal can breathe,” Loki pondered aloud, slowing his fingers to simply scratch at the bottom of your ribs. Thor released your ankles as well, returning to your side so he could grin down at you with endearment. You pushed Loki’s wrists away from your torso so you could curl up and wrap your arms around your ribcage, residual giggles still bubbling from your chest.

“Rehehe… remind me not to walk in on a tickle fight between you boys ever again,” you mused, chest heaving with exertion.

“A poor decision, really,” Loki agreed, smirking down at you.

“Brother, we should allow Lady Y/N to watch her television program, now that we’ve finished tormenting the poor girl,” Thor urged, tugging on Loki’s arm.

“Wait!” You sat up, stopping them before they turned to walk out of the room. “I… uh… I don’t mind if you guys want to stay and hang out. Watch a movie or something..?”

Loki looked at you with surprise and confusion written across his face. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have thought that just maybe you saw a hint of red tinged across his sharp cheekbones. Thor smiled, glancing over at you, then back up at his brother.

“I do apologize, but I have a prior engagement I must attend,” Thor responded woefully. “However, Loki would most certainly love to keep you company, wouldn’t you brother?” Loki shot him a wide-eyed look as Thor pounded his large hand against the back of his shoulder, causing him to lurch forward a bit from the impact. Thor’s smirk never faltered, his eyebrows elevating ever so slightly as he held Loki’s stare.

“I would like that,” you said after a moment, breaking the silence. Loki’s head turned to look at you, and upon seeing your pleading eyes staring up at him, his face broke out into a genuine smile.

“Well, who am I to say no, then?” He took a seat beside you on the couch as you aimed the remote at the TV, searching through the movie list. Thor bade you goodbye as he ducked out of the room, leaving you alone with the handsome trickster sitting beside you.

The opening credits began scrolling across the screen. Maybe it was the residual adrenaline from having been tickle tortured only moments before, but a surge of bravery ran through you, and you leaned your head against Loki’s shoulder. You were rewarded with a gentle laugh, vibrating from deep in his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and tugged you closer, his hand resting against your side. You flinched as his fingers twitched, digging slightly into your skin.

“Sorry, love – I couldn’t resist,” he chuckled in response to the playful glare you shot at him. He moved his hand to rest on your arm, and you nestled in comfortably against his side. You weren’t sure yet exactly what this was, but you most definitely liked where it was headed.

[random1amfics]

Demon Tyrant of France (3)

Adrien didn’t like how Marinette was acting.

At first he thought that she might have just been lashing out because Lila’s lies hadn’t been exposed yet. She had been showing signs of being stressed and frustrated before she gave him her signature smile a week ago.

There was also one option he didn’t want to consider. That Marinette was an akuma. It makes sense with the new clothes, her chosen name and her new attitude. But Plagg said that she didn’t feel like an akuma.

Adrien tugged at his hair, pondering about her. He risked a look to the back of the class where Marinette sat.

She had resigned as class president effective immediately. When Mme Bustier took her outside for a talk, the teacher came back pale-faced and had agreed to accept her resignation. The class didn’t take it well. Mostly him, Lila and Alya were being very vocal about it. The rest just looked resigned and stayed silent.

So far, she hadn’t accused Lila of lying at all. Just outright ignoring the Italian unless Lila was claiming something about Marinette doing something to her to which Marinette shuts it down with her solid alibis which made Lila angry. That wasn’t good at all. Lila would get akumatized and it was his job as Chat Noir to prevent that from happening. Marinette and him had talked about taking the High Road and she promised before this bizarre change. He was going to talk to her about it later, maybe she just needs a reminder that she was their ‘Everyday Ladybug’. Even if she wasn’t acting like it at the moment. They would all talk about it over and the class would get back to normal.

The bell rang, signalling the start of lunch break and bringing back Adrien out of his thoughts. He brushed out Lila’s and his friend’s offers of having lunch together but he needed to solve the Marinette/Demon Tyrant Problem.

“Hey, Marinette. I want to talk to you about-” Adrien said as he met her at the door.

“Lila. I know Agreste. I am surprised it took you this long before making your move.” Marinette replied in a cold tone, which was so unlike her that it made him a little uneasy.

“Look, I know Lila has been hard on you.”

The Tyrant snorted, it was an understatement. In the final days of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Lila had turned her ‘friends’ against her, painted her as a villain and tore apart her sketchbook. Thankfully, it wasn’t the one with her commissions which she had been smart enough to leave at home. The reason she still technically won the bet was because Chloe was there from the start, witnessing everything Marinette does in any situation, good or bad and making sure she followed the rules. (It also led to her inevitable reveal as Ladybug with Chloe’s nosy behaviour. That is a whole another story for later.)

Adrien continued with that stupid ‘everything is fine’ smile, “But you shouldn’t let her get to you like that.I mean this whole Demon Tyrant thing isn’t you. Resigning as class president. Not helping our classmates. You aren’t acting yourself. And if there is anything that I can do to help you-” He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder which she grabbed before he could.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Agreste. Don’t touch me unless you want a broken hand.”

Adrein frowned.

He pulled his hand back and gestured towards her, “See. This is what I am talking about. If you keep doing this, you are going to push all of our friends away, Marinette.”

“Agreste, you can’t address me by that name. You have lost that privilege when you stopped being my ‘friend’. I resigned and stopped helping because I can’t do things for a class that doesn’t appreciate my efforts. Furthermore, I am not pushing them away at all. They are all staying away because it took the Demon Tyrant to come back to get back to their senses and realize what they had done wrong the last few months. Well, most of them are. If they finally get the courage to apologize, I might forgive them but we won’t be friends. I am still fair in some cases.”

“Anyways, the main thing you should know is this,” she said as she gestured to herself, “has always been me. I don’t need ‘help’ to be the Marinette you have always known because News Flash, she was just a part I played to win a bet. An act. And before you pull any crap about faking to be your friend, you asked to be my friend and when you stop tending the flower, it will wilt. If you are worried about me exposing Lila, I always keep my word. I am not going to expose her. Now if you will excuse me.”

The Tyrant walked past him, not sparing him any further glances.

Adrien was left alone in the classroom.

Well, not quite alone.

“Plagg, what do I do?”

The kwami stayed silent. He had heard about the Demon Tyrant when a worried Tikki came to him one night. Marinette had told her about her past. She also told Tikki to take the earrings away and go find someone else better. Tikki came to him because she had little to no experiences with bad wielders, compared to Plagg.

Honestly, unless someone incurred her deserved wrath, she wasn’t so bad. Marinette or the Demon Tyrant was a great wielder for the Ladybug Miraculous and possibly, a better Black Cat than his current one.

×××××××××

Alya sat down in the cafeteria.

Lost for words at the new dynamics of the class, everything was different and nothing makes sense anymore. She can’t correlate between this bitchy Demon Tyrant and the sweet, kind and clumsy Marinette who was her best friend. Although, she hasn’t been acting herself the past week, accusing poor Lila of being a liar and bullying and threatening the new girl every chance she got.

On second thought, yes, she can.

It explains a lot about Marinette’s one-eighty degree change in attitude now.

And Alya had fallen for the act, hook, line and sinker that very first day. She wondered why Marinette did it. Did she get some sick thrill of luring people in with a nice facade with the smell of pastries, telling them that they were friends and when the time comes, dump like discarded toys?

Some journalist she was, she should have dug deeper, not just trust what was on the surface. Journalists were supposed to expose the corruption and she never saw it hiding itself right in front of her.

She was so deep in her rage of being deceived that she didn’t notice her classmates telling her to calm down or scrambling away from the black butterfly that was headed towards her.

“Hello, Shepherdess. I am Hawkmoth. You can’t trust wolves in sheep's clothing and there were wolves hidden in your flock. I will give you the power to expose the wolves before they hurt the sheep. In exchange, you will get me Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s miraculouses.”

“Yes, Hawkmoth.”

Dark energy covered the reporter, transforming her into an akuma.

(Because I suck at describing clothing, Alya’s akuma looks the same as Bo Peep in Toy story 4. But with a darker colour scheme. She has a shepherd's staff. Her power is to expose people’s true self by changing who stays true to themselves as sheep and those who do not as wolves. The sheep are made into her minions and the wolves are…..slaughtered.)

×××××××××

Tag: @buginetye, @fidget-eep, @hunnibear-x

[asphaltvalkyrie]

Happy Tag Game

I got retagged in this by @dru-reblogs-stuff about a month ago and promptly forgot about it... Thank you benevolent stranger!

Rules: When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications! :)

1. The 1-legged Oak Titmouse - Who has taken to sitting on the grape vines on my back porch, muttering angrily to itself until I break some shelled peanuts into tiny pieces and place them carefully on the bird feeder tray for it. Unfortunately it won’t come down to eat them until I go back in the house.  Rude.

2. Improptu Craftiness - I’ve been making primitive little gewgaws from string, sticks, shells, beads, feathers and clay for no reason other than “I felt like it.” This is a big deal for me because I love to art, but my inner critic had gotten so loud over the years that I rarely make anything.

3. Tuca and Bertie - Season 3 just started. Its portrayals of womanhood and mental illness are touching, funny and possibly the most realistic I’ve ever seen, despite it being an animated show that obeys neither the laws of biology nor of physics. I just love it so much. *gently holds*

4. August’s Employee of the Month - I never thought I’d win, since I’m the only person in the lab department and I only ever talk to maybe 3 of my coworkers. But I don’t make promises I can’t keep, I do a lot of jobs no one else knows how to do or wants to do, and I ignore office drama, so I guess little things add up.

5. The Sato’s Beaked Whale - Was spotted alive for the first time in history just a few days ago. Previously, scientists had only ever seen dead ones, but apparently there are at least 3 pods of them living in the seas between Japan and Russia. I love learning about new (well, new to us) animal species.

Taking 5 notifications from this blog and 5 from my FFXIV blog (@the-wardens-torch) just because I like my FFXIV friends a whole lot.

@captianvanhiraeth, @mythramystral, @devouring-silence, @pastelince, @lettersnorth, @nutley-rp, @chiller2000, @le-temps-viendra36, @captainkurosolaire and @adeat who now that I think of it may have tagged me with this several months ago... Eep.

[dhwty-writes]

Keep You Warm

Day 2 of @witcher-and-his-bard‘s prompt challenge, huddling for warmth.

So, this turned a bit steamy in the end. Since I haven't written anything spicier than a tomato in ages, I am a bit confused as to how this happened. I looked away for two seconds and suddenly the bard was horny. Have fun!

Summary: It is snowing. Again. In spring. Jaskier is freezing his fucking balls of, thank you very much; and who is he to deny his witcher's request to sleep next to him? 

Warnings: mild sexual content

Read on AO3

It was cold. No, that wasn't quite strong enough of an expression. Jaskier was freezing his fucking balls off, in a cave in the arse end of nowhere no less, with no one but a grumpy horse and a grumpier witcher as his companions. Oh, right. And a damp fire that smoked more than it gave off heat or light.

He sighed and turned to his other side, sulking that he wouldn't find a comfortable sleeping position either. It had started out well enough, when he had found Geralt a whole month earlier than anticipated—he always was the first to set out on the Path, since Oxenfurt wasn't encased in ice and snow as Kaer Morhen was.

But it had been a warm winter with an early thaw and no sooner had he entered Kaedwen, he had felt two strong witcher-y arms lifting him up in their annual reunion hug. After a decent amount of complaints (squeals, Geralt insisted, the liar) and a maybe more-than-sufficing amount of alcohol to swap stories to (complaining about colleagues, students, and siblings, which were more or less the same for Geralt, but quite different for Jaskier), they had continued with their adventuring. And now- this.

One day they had been tracking a griffin and the next, BOOM, snow again. Snow! At the beginning of Birke! Not unheard of, of course, there was snow as late as Belleteyn sometimes, but still, this was outrageous. Because they weren't talking a few flakes barely encrusting the blades of the grass here, oh no! This was a twenty-to-forty-inches-situation they were dealing with here; Jaskier wasn't sufficiently equipped for that in the best of times and these were not the best of times.

He had been preparing for spring, and summer after! Wading through tepid creeks, enjoying a goblet of wine at the coast, those kinds of things. He had cropped trousers, silken doublets, sheer shirts through one could see every hair on his chest (with a witcher's eyesight, at least). But furs and wool? No, he didn't have any of that! That was all stored in his quarters in Oxenfurt, way too heavy to be brought along on the Path. In hindsight, that had been very stupid.

Geralt wasn't being helpful, either. At first the witcher had laughed and called him an idiot (the prick), and now he was getting grumpier and grumpier with every chatter of Jaskier's teeth.

He, of course, was fine, stupid witcher mutations. Well, and he did have sturdy boots and a real cloak, which promptly had been converted into Jaskier's with the first flake hitting the ground. Not that it made much of a difference. 'Fucking cock,' he thought as he pulled the coat tighter around his shoulders with trembling fingers.

He exhaled a painful breath and forced his eyes close again. He should try to sleep, he knew, come morning they had a long way ahead. And then he wouldn't notice the cold either, he hoped. On the other hand, he remembered Geralt telling him something about falling asleep when cold, something he couldn't quite remember-

"Jaskier," Geralt grumbled quietly from where he laid on the other side of the campfire.

"Y-yeah?" he managed to get out with his chattering teeth, and turned around to face him.

Geralt was propped up on one arm, studying him with a curious look on his face. This procedure continued for such a long time that Jaskier's skin began to crawl. He was just about to ask what exactly they were doing, when Geralt lifted his blanket a bit and jerked his chin to the side. "Get your arse over here."

Jaskier felt like he should protest the gruff order. In any other situation he probably would've protested. But fuck, it had to have been hours since he last felt his toes. If Geralt was willing to share his blanket with him, he wasn't about to object.

Getting up and walking the short distance over to him, was a bit of a chore, if he was quite honest. Especially since he was dragging his bedroll and useless blanket with him, while doing his best not to trip over Geralt's cloak or soak Geralt's woollen socks with slush.

When he was within an arm's width of his friend, it was the witcher who carefully laid out the bedrolls so that they were overlapping slightly and hopefully wouldn't slip apart to much while they slept, so that one of them ended up sleeping on the floor. Once Jaskier had sat down, it was also Geralt, who untied the cloak with deft fingers, who pulled their two blankets up to their chins and spread the cloak over them, too. "Sleep," he grunted.

Jaskier nodded obediently and closed his eyes, giving his best to do so, as he scooted as far away from his friend as their shared blankets allowed him. That wasn't quite as effective in terms of sharing body heat, but if a decade of travelling with Geralt of Rivia had taught him something, it was that, while the witcher was many things, a cuddler was not one of them. Jaskier doubted it would be any different in this completely unprecedented situation.

Imagine his surprise, when it was Geralt, too, who threw an arm over his waist to pull him close. Jaskier 'eep'-ed and Geralt 'hmm'-ed, and went ahead to press his forehead against the base of Jaskier's skull. "Stupid bard," he mumbled, "should've come over sooner. Can't have you die of hypothermia."

"A-alright," he managed through his still chattering teeth, "I-I'll k-k-keep that i-in m-mi-mind." At least now he was certain that his heart was still pumping blood through his veins. Quite thoroughly so. Gods, Geralt was bound to notice at this rate.

"Hmm," Geralt said again and propped himself up on his elbow again, frowning darkly down at him.

"Wh-what?"

"You're still cold."

Jaskier almost laughed. "Yeah," he managed to get out without being interrupted by his teeth. "It- It'll t-t-take a whi-while." Shucks, there went his record.

"Hmmm," he hummed even more displeased, his fingers twitching as if he wasn't sure what to do with them. Geralt tore his gaze away and hissed something akin to "Fucking fragile humans," before simply yanking his shirt over his head.

Cold or not Jaskier thought his reaction that could only be classified as 'bewildered, admiring staring' was more than justified. He caught the thought 'Oh, fuck me' flitting through his head and thanked all his lucky stars that he didn't utter them out loud.

Geralt tossed his shirt to the bedroll, to be used as pillow. He fixed him with a piercing glare and, oh, if Jaskier had been frozen before he was positively melting now.

He really tried not to ogle his friend. He really did. But he couldn't quite stop himself from raking his eyes over the bare torso before him that looked as if it had been sculpted by the gods and-

"Off," Geralt growled, pulling Jaskier's attention back to his eyes.

"I'm sorry, what?" he squeaked. He wasn't embarrassed to admit squeaking this time, thank you very much. Evidently, he had missed something.

"Off," Geralt insisted again, and tugged on Jaskier's collar.

"Umm-" His eyes bulged. 'Oh, shit.' His chances of surviving the night were sinking rapidly.

"Body heat will keep you warm," Geralt replied with a simple shrug. As if there was nothing much to sleeping arm in arm with your half-naked, very good looking... friend. As if that wouldn't lead to a whole host of other problems and-

Geralt raised and inquisitive eyebrow and Jaskier couldn't even finish thinking 'He's got a point' before he was divesting himself of his own shirt. His fingers were still numb, so it took a lot longer (and probably looked a lot less appealing) than normally, but before long Jaskier was shirtless, too, staring at Geralt with wide eyes.

He just huffed a breath—in... annoyance? Amusement? Who was Jaskier to judge—and lay down again, his arm outstretched for him. Jaskier gulped and stretched out next to him. Again, it didn't take long for Geralt's arm to settle on his waist, and oh, there was no chance he'd survive until sunrise. The cold forgotten, his nerve-ends ablaze; along the sparse points of skin-to-skin contact there was a delightful tingling, bordering on unpleasant.

"Sleep," Geralt mumbled again, his lips brushing against the bare skin of his shoulder.

Jaskier closed his eyes and breathed out a shuddering: "Fuck." Sleep, Geralt said? How the fuck was he supposed to sleep like that, with arousal coiling hot in his stomach. With a casual arm thrown over his waist, presenting a perfectly hold-able hand within grasping distance? With Geralt so close he could feel the heat emanating of his torso, so close he only needed to scoot back and tip his head up to have a wonderful neck exposed to him that basically begged to be kissed-

'Ah, shit.' He squirmed uncomfortably, in an attempt to hide his rather embarrassing predicament, that he knew to be futile. At least he had his back to Geralt, anything else would be truly mortifying. Still, he really hoped the witcher would choose to ignore it.

Apparently, the witcher knew no such mercy. He sighed deeply and—tightened? tightened—his arm around his waist. "Really, Jaskier?" He pressed his face into his neck and inhaled deeply. Jaskier imagined to feel his lips spread in a grin against his skin. "Now? You were chilled to the bone not half an hour ago."

Horrifyingly, he heard himself say: "Well, people change, Geralt, gods, keep it up." His mouth snapped shut as he became cognisant of the stupidity of his own words.

When Geralt didn't answer, Jaskier idiotically kept on talking: "You never would've noticed except for your stupid sense of smell." He rolled his eyes. "Really, what do you deem to be the appropriate reaction to- to-" He waved his hand around to encompass the absurdity of the situation. "-to this! Hm?"

Geralt, ever the conversationalist, replied: "Hm."

"My thoughts exactly," Jaskier huffed and crossed his arms. His heart was beating as if he had just completed an endurance run, and he heaved a few breaths to calm himself down.

The lack of response from Geralt was beginning to freak him out. Maybe he had underestimated the severity of this folly. Self-consciously he pulled up his shoulders. "Do you want me to leave?" he hazarded a guess. "So, um- so, I can do something about it?" 'And not bother you with it anymore,' his mind supplied.

No reaction. He closed his eyes. 'Look at the bright side, Jaskier,' he told himself. 'No reaction is better than reaction.' Yeah, it didn't convince him either. "Geralt?" he tried again.

The witcher hummed against his neck, his arm moving at a snail's pace. After an overabundance of hitched breaths and skipped heartbeats, there was a possessive hand splayed all over his stomach, and Jaskier thought he had finally an idea of what was going on in Geralt's head. "Do you-" He cleared his throat, there was really no reason to lead this conversation in a voice an octave higher than normally. "Do you want to do something about it?"

Geralt's arm twitched, still hesitating. "Do you want me to?" Geralt rumbled in his gravelly voice. The smallest of nods was all it took for him to pull Jaskier flush against him; albeit carefully and slowly so, as if any too sudden movement might startle him, scare him away.

"Well," Jaskier laughed nervously. "It might help to alleviate the awkwardness of this situation a bit," he joked, pressing back even further.

A gasp escaped his mouth when Geralt rewarded him with a roll of his hips for that, his hand ghosting over the front of his pants. "Y-yeah, I would very much like you to do something about it," he was quick to splutter.

"Hm." Oh, he was grinning after all. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying it. Jaskier was almost about to voice his complaints when Geralt's grip tightened even more, his hand steadily travelling lower, ghosting over his hips, splaying his legs, but never touching right where he wanted him to.

Jaskier sighed contentedly, as he tipped his head against Geralt's shoulder. Oh, the urge to pull him into a kiss was even worse than anticipated. "Geralt," he whined.

He chuckled quietly and dragged a rather toothy kiss over his shoulder. "Good?" he asked as his fingers ghosted over the front of Jaskier's breeches again.

The audacity. "Yes, good," he hissed, chasing the friction to no avail. "Would you get on with it, then? Else I might overheat."

Geralt huffed a laugh and retracted his hand back to his abdomen, rubbing infuriating circles right above his waistband. "Bossy," he commented, "and rude." After a moment he added: "Nothing's changed, then."

Jaskier had a thousand biting comments on the tip of his tongue, but a thumb slipping below his waistband reminded him that now was not the time. He held his breath, expecting Geralt to loosen the ties. Nothing happened.

Well. Good thing he wasn't above begging. "Please," he murmured, rolling his hips back, where Geralt was straining against his breeches. "Weren't you going to keep me warm?"

"I s'pose I was." Now that definitely was a kiss to his shoulder, followed by sharp nipping teeth. Geralt tugged at his breeches. "Off," he demanded again.

And, well, Jaskier was weak, and he was wanting; who was he to decline such an offer?

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)

— 19.7k 

… 

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. 

Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳  or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action! collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;

(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux 

SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.

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It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.

According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.

It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.

You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.

When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.

And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.

In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.

Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.

As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.

“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”

“Shit, sorry!”

When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.

As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.

Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.

This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.

“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”

“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.  

Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.

“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”

He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.

It’s that easy.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.  

Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.

Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.

And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.

Your eyes meet.

There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.

“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”

You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.

“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”

“Oh.”

Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”

“It’s -”  You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence ensues.

You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.

Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.

“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”

“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.

It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”

His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”

Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”

He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.

Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”

“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”

“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.

“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”

Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.

The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.

With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.

As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.

“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.

“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”

“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”

“How so?”

“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.

You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...

While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.

As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”

You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.

True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.

“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”

“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.

You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.

And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.

“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.  

“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”

You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.

“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.

You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.

“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.

Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.

Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.  

“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”

You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?

Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”

Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?

“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”

You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.  

Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.

Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.

Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.

There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.

You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.

But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.

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They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”

“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.  

“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”

It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.

For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.

The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.

Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.

“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”

At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.

His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.

“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”

“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.

Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.

You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.

It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.

It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.

The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.  

“Hey, Hoseok.”

His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”

“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”

Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.

“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”

You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.

“You changed up your hair.”

“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”

“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.

Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.

But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.

Your smile becomes stiff.

The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.

“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.

Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”

It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.

You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.

But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.

Hoseok’s features soften.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”

You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.

You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.

“...So, you dance?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.

“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”

He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.

“Here’s a recent one.”

You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”

The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.

“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”

Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”

“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”

“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”

“Well... I guess I—”

“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”

“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”

“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”

You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.

Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.

“Is something on your mind?”

You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.

“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.

“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.

“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”

“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”

“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.

As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.

Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.

“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.

“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.

“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”

Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.

You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”

Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”

“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.

“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...

“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”

You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”

By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.

You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.

“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.

“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”

Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.

“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”

Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”

He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.

The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.

The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.

“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”

“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.

“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”

“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.

Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.  

Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.

The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.

“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”

Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.

You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --

“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”

You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”

“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”

“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.

“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”

“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”

You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”

“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”

“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”

Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.

The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.

“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”

Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.

Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.

Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.

He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.

“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”

“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.

The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.

His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.

“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”  

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”

You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.

“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”

You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.

“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”

“Yep.”

“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”

You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.

It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’

You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’

“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.

Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.  

The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.  

His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.

Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.

“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”

“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.  

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a  professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.  

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally. 

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state -  a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.  

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves. 

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened. 

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly. 

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp. 

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves. 

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence. 

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

.

It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

.

.

[greatbigbellies]

Hello! Another new anonymous commission! This is a continuation of THIS STORY and follows the later half of Leo’s hyperpregnancy!  Contains hyperpregnancy, tmpreg, some more weight gain and lactation, belly worship, allusions to sex, and general soft lovey dovey content. Enjoy!

“Are you sure you don’t need help carrying anything?” asked Leo, his massive belly swaying left and right as we waddled next to his husband, Marko. Leo was wearing floral swim trunks, and his more than ample chest was covered by a large, stretched tank top, but it did nothing to shield his pale, pregnant belly form the sun. Marko’s arms were full of beach towels, a heavy picnic basket, a bucket of bulk-order sunscreen, and two folding chairs for the pair. He stared at Leo’s belly, then into Leo’s eyes, before shaking his head and smiling. “I love you hon but you’re carrying enough,” he said. Leo realized his hands were all but glued to the sides of his tummy to steady his gait, and he realized that, yes, 24 babies was probably enough for one man to carry. Or is it? He thought to himself.

Leo had maintained mobility for a little longer than expected, so the two set out for one final non-stay-home-and-eat date together, at a nearby beach just an hour away. The stretch of sand was largely unpopulated, save for some squawking seagulls, so the couple had the privacy they needed to just… be. Granted, Leo had grown more accustomed to being the center of attention, and in a weird way was starting to enjoy it, but there was still something serene about being alone with his doting husband.

Marko checked his watch, and looked around the beach before setting the chairs down in the sand. “Tide’s coming in… and if my information is correct, in a couple hours, the water well flow right up across your lower tummy, and run over your feet. From here, you can experience the ocean without having to get up!” he said, unfolding one chair behind Leo, letting him take a seat. Leo’s considerably widened hips and butt filled the chair, creating audible creaks as it supported his pregnancy weight.

Marko laid out a towel on the sand before plopping the rest of the supplies on it. There was a nice breeze, carrying the cool ocean mist up to the pair without being obnoxiously strong. “You hungry babe?” asked Marko. Leo nodded eagerly, prompting his husband to pull a very stacked sandwich out of the basket. “I’ll get to work on your sunscreen while you eat that,” he said, kissing Leo on the top of his head, making the pregnant man blush.

He popped open the bucket of sunscreen while Leo tore into the sub, taking in the cacophony of flavors. Marko all but dunked his hands into the sunscreen, getting a good thick coating on both hands, before moving over and placing them on the front of Leo’s tummy. He shivered a little at the sudden application of cold lotion to his bare skin. Marko moved his hands in large, sweeping circles, applying a coating of sunscreen to Leo’s expanse of gravid skin. He leaned forward and placed a quick , loving kiss on the front, before covering that spot with more sunscreen. 

“You love doing that, don’t you?” Leo asked between bites. “What, putting sunscreen on you? I guess?” said Marko confusedly. Leo chuckled, causing his belly to jiggle slightly. “No… well… yes obviously you love doing that, but… kissing my belly. You do it all the time,” he commented. Marko, blushed, but Leo couldn’t see it past his expansive midriff. “I mean… it’s like kissing you and our kids at the same time? I just… I have a lot of love to give you guys,” he replied. Leo beamed, his husband was such a softie. “Honey you DON’T have to explain yourself I love it when you do that! I was just pointing it out,” he said. The chair creaked again as he continued his sandwich. .

Marko moved onto the left flank of Leo’s tummy, blushing more intensely. Leo smirked, “I think the babies love it too,” Marko’s heart fluttered. “Really?” he asked. Leo nodded, “kiss me and feel how much they kick!” he teased, though Marko didn’t need to be told twice. He laid a deep, tender smooch on the side of Leo’s 13 month pregnant tummy, and felt it up with his hands. A flurry of kicks and shifts from inside confirmed what Leo said. If Leo thought Marko kissed his belly a lot before, he had no idea what was to come. Marko got back to work putting on the sunscreen, but would pepper a patch of skin with kisses before running his hands over them. Leo gleefully enjoyed the worship as he continued demolishing his sub. Right as he was about halfway through it…

Creeeaaaakkkk… the bolts holding his chair together snapped under his weight, and he plopped onto the ground with a THUD. Marko looked at him, shocked, and asked “Oh my god are you okay? Are you hurt? Are the babies okay?” Leo assessed himself. The surprise was the worst part. His belly simply shifted slightly, and his marshmallowy ass softened the landing, though his brood of 24 was completely riled up inside, causing visible movement. “Yeah I’m okay! I just…” he looked at his dropped food on the ground, now covered in sand. “Aw, I was going to finish that…” he lamented. Marko raised an eyebrow, “so, you’re okay?” he asked. Leo nodded, staring at his lost meal. “Yeah, I’m just down like… half a sandwich,” he brushed his fluffy frown hair out of his face and winced, a slight ache from his landing starting to manifest. Marko sighed and smiled, “Well I packed like… four of those subs, hon. There’s plenty more,” 

Leo gasped, if he could physically have hearts for eyes, he would. “You know how to treat a guy!” he puckered his lips, prompting Marko to lean over and kiss him. He chuckled, “you might be good at tummy kisses, but THOSE are my favorite,” he said before returning to eating, now planted firmly on the ground, legs spread to make room for his gargantuan tummy. Marko simply smiled before returning to work, getting back to spreading the UV protecting lotion over his husband’s pregnant body.

Fast forward a couple of hours, and not only had Leo’s belly been thoroughly coated in sunscreen, and thoroughly filled with food, but he’d been thoroughly peppered in kisses and thoroughly complimented by his husband. It was a good day. Marko had enjoyed his half of the date too. Feeding, kissing, and otherwise pampering Leo was what he lived for, and doing it on the beach with sand under his feet and the waves splashing nearby just set the whole mood for him. He sat on the ground next to Leo, discussing life, love, and baby names, and generally having a lovely time.

“eeEEEP!” eeped Leo. “What’s wrong?” asked Marko, nearly jumping to his feet. “The cold water just touched my tummy, the tide has really rolled in,” said Leo. “I really wasn’t expecting it,” another wave washed up and lightly coated the front lower end of Leo’s tum in cold, briney seawater. “You wanna get up? We’ve been here for quite a while,” Leo nodded, “We’re out of food, I’m getting cold form the seawater, and frankly my pregnant ass could use a nap,” he said. Marko chuckled, taking Leo’s hands and using his considerable upper body strength to help him to his feet.

Leo’s belly rolled forward, shifting as he stood. His brood of two dozen riled up inside, and his hands shot to his belly. Marko knew what to do and started running his hands over the expanses of belly that Leo couldn’t reach, soothing their babies. After a moment, Marko gathered up their supplies while Leo began the considerable task of rotating his entire body 180 degrees. The two began the slow trek back to their vehicle, satisfied with the outing. It would be their last for a long, long while.

6 months later

“Don’t get your hopes up, it’s been a couple years since I’ve done this and I’m out of practice,” said Marko, looking over his selection of brushes. Leo lat in his custom hyper-pregnancy recliner, designed to support his increased weight and girth, his shirt rolled up as he pumped. “Yeah and I’ve seen what you’ve done before hon, my hopes are SKY HIGH knowing you,” Leo said with a bubbly smile. Marko chuckled, “I’ve also never had this sort of canvas before,” Leo laughed giddily, “It’s a canvas that’s required the cooperation of 38 people to make, 39 if you count me!”

Marko stood up, having to stand on his tiptoes to peer over Leo’s belly and H cup breasts. “I think you’re forgetting who put those 38 in there!” he teased. Leo blushed, switching bottles to store more milk. As he’d grown ever more pregnant, pushing past the duration of a normal pregnancy, his milk had come in in spades to feed their growing brood, so the poor pregnant man had to pump regularly, or risk leaking on his rather expensive maternity tops.

Marko grabbed a large, wide brush, and squeezed a heap of white paint onto his palette, with so much area to cover, this piece was going to need a LOT of paint if he hoped to really utilize his canvas. He dipped his brush in the paint, and began applying it to the front of Leo’s pregnant belly. Leo squirmed and giggled, his sensitive skin tickled by the wet bristles. His giggling picking up as the brush ran over his hypersensitive bellybutton, causing Marko to grin. “This is going to be a long process if you’re that ticklish,” he chuckled. He got down on his knees and continued painting the base layer down to some of the power front of Leo’s titanic tummy.

Leo contained himself, “You get pregnant and let me paint YOUR tummy and then you tell me I’m being too ticklish! That skin is sensitive!” he teased. Marko shook his head with a smirk, “Imagine me being pregnant…” he paused. Imagine… “You’d look cute with a bump,” complimented Leo. He turned off his pumps and took them off, though his breasts still leaked slightly. He set the milk aside and pulled his shirt down, covering his chest.

Marko switched paints to a light blue to start on a sky line, wanting to do a forest panorama, thinking about the prospect. “Preggo marko… I mean I’d look cute as fuck but I’d miss my figure,” Leo snorted, “But you’d have a new figure! Round, like me!” Marko considered waddling around, looking like his husband. It was only a hypothetical concept, but not an unwelcome one. He looked up to see his husband’s shirt growing damp. “Uh, honey…” Leo looked down at himself, “Aw shit!” he quickly yanked up his top and put his pumps back on, trying to contain the mess. Marko got back to painting, he had a lot of belly ahead of him…

As time pressed on, Leo’s bottles of milk continued to fill, and his belly continued to be covered in paint. Marko was an impressive artist, and his practice allowed him to work relatively fast. Still, with so much midriff to cover, it took a good few hours to do. Front and center of the tummy pictured a large, sprawling lake, framed by tall pine trees, with snowy mountains looming in the background. Mossy rocks peppered the foreground, and cute, brightly colored birds were lovingly left in trees. The whole scene was based off of a place Marko had gone to with his family, camping in washington state. The cool taiga campground had always stuck with him, and now it was brought home, plastered across his husband’s massive belly of all places.

Leo had fallen sleep, relaxed from the subtle sensations of marko’s brush along his tightly stretched belly. He’d sat still for hours for this, and just languished in becoming a work of art. It was his idea, to have his tummy painted, and while he’d snoozed through half of it, the whole thing had been a fun experiment. At least now he could say he’d been part of a body art piece! 

He woke to the sharp hiss of his husband swearing. Not loudly, but with passion. “Mmmmh, what’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. Marko chuckled, “I was putting the finishing touches on this stump, and one of our kids kicked my brush, so now there’s a big brown blotch on it. That’s how it is when your canvas is alive I guess,” he shrugged, getting back to painting. Leo giggled to himself, “You could call it a happy little accident?” he snickered. Marko smiled and rolled his eyes sarcastically, “What? The paint blotch, or the kid who caused it?” he asked. “The blotch you goof! Only the first kid was an accident and the odds of THAT ONE kicking there are pretty slim!”

With one last stroke, he was done. He stood up and surveyed his work, the massive painting spanning the front hemisphere of Leo’s 38-full pregnant tummy. It was sprawling, and detailed, and beautiful, and he was quite pleased with it. “Man, I really did miss painting,” he said, mostly to himself. “Such a shame it’s all gonna get washed off here soon,” Leo pursed his lips in thought, “Maybe it’s an exercise in impermanence? Like… some bhuddist shit?”

Marko smiled, “Gimmie your phone, you goof. It has a better camera, and I want you to see this!” Leo smirked, and held out a small tube, produced from the table next to him. “You gotta sign your work first, silly!” Marko squinted at the tube, too short and wide to be a pen. “Is that… lipstick?” he asked. Leo nodded. “Sign it with a kiss! Like a love letter! Except that love letter is me!” Marko blushed, and sighed, and relented. “God you’re gay,” he chuckled. Leo cocked his head to the side and smiled, “For you,”

Marko blushed harder, and wordlessly navigated to the lower right corner of his masterpiece. He put on the lipstick, then got down on his hands and knees, leaned forward, and placed a deep, loving kiss on Leo’s belly, leaving a perfect smooch mark. Now it was Leo’s turn to blush. Marko got back up, and made bedroom eyes at his husband. “I have an idea of how we could kill our evening,” he said. Leo blushed harder now, “do tell?” he squeaked in anticipation. “I could kiss you until all of this lipstick wears off, then help you to the shower and wash all this paint off… then I could…” Leo beamed, “You could make me MORE pregnant!?” Marko bit his lip and ran his hand through his black undercut. “If you’d like to?” “I would LOVE to!” 

...And so they did.

5 months later

“Well, you’ve exceeded my expectations in quantity, but everyone in there is healthy as can be!” said Leo’s midwife, as she slowly ran the ultrasound wand over his expansive belly. Marko sat next to Leo, holding his hand tenderly. “I’m proud of my big man, he’s kept everyone so safe and healthy for two years at this point,” Leo squeezed his hand in response to the praise. The midwife’s eyes grew large. “You’re two years pregnant?” she asked. Leo nodded, “24 months today!” he chirped. The midwife nodded, “Explains why everyone is so big and strong...” she trailed off. “How many is ‘everyone’ by now?” Leo asked. The midwife stayed silent for a spell before answering. “I’ve been trying to figure that out… there are so many heartbeats my equipment cant differentiate between them all… my midrange estimation is… probably 50,” she finally landed. “Fifty!?” Marko and Leo exclaimed in unison. The medical professional nodded, “that’s not an exact number, but… there’s at least 48 guaranteed in there, and judging by the volume of the measurements I took, you have enough volume in your frankly amazing womb for 52, so I’d average it at 50,” she pulled back the wand and turned off her portable doppler.

Marko’s eyes sparkled at the news. How he’d managed to put fifty babies into his husband. Leo held his K cup tits in his hands, and for the first time wondered if he’d be able to feed them all. The midwife’s watch beeped and she hissed, “This is so unprofessional, but, Marko, can I leave the wiping off of ultrasound jelly to you? I have another appointment that I’m already late for!” she said. Marko nodded eagerly, “Sure thing Miss Thorne! I’ll take care of it!” Miss Thorne nodded and closed up her equipment. She walked around Leo’s belly and shook his hand. “If anything changes, you have my number. Just… please don’t call past 2 am,” she sighed. Leo gently met her handshake and smiled, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Miss Thorne nodded again and turned to leave, “Duty calls gentlemen, take care!” she said before closing the door behind her.

Marko leaned in and kissed Leo with reinvigorated passion. “Babe, we’re gonna be the dads of 50 babies!” he placed his hand on Leo’s tummy, feeling the near rock-hard firmness of it. “And I’ll be able to walk again!” said Leo, who had been too big to pass through standard doorways for the last 9 months. Marko stepped back and surveyed Leo, really taking in his size. The oblong mass of Leo’s tummy was, at this point, the tallest part of him, and the widest by a huge margin. He’d been well and truly immobile for a while now, the weight of his womb passing 450 lbs. It wasn’t all baby and amniotic fluid either, he’d put on a fair bit of baby weight thanks to his increased appetite.

He had subtle rolls on the side of his torso, and his hips had widened substantially to make room for his brood to pass through, though they were wrapped in their own lovely layer of pudge. His butt and thighs themselves were visibly wider, and even his arms were softer to the touch. His breasts were, in all honesty, enormous in their own right, each one comparable to a pregnant belly itself, but despite this, nothing drew peoples attention, and Marko’s attraction, more than that planetary belly. 

Hard to the touch, smooth, pale, shiny, and well and truly massive, Marko had compared it in his own mind to a small car. He definitely would fit inside with room to move around, that’s for sure. Marko USED to be the taller of the two, but with Leo’s belly bloated with presumably 50 babies, maybe more, he’d overtaken Marko’s height in a rather unorthodox way. The room was as dominated by midriff as Leos’ own body, and the pair had joked that they’d have to start knocking down walls if he got any more pregnant.

Marko grabbed a nearby towel and started working to wipe off the ample ultrasound jelly left on Leo’s exposed skin. He moved slowly and methodically, enjoying the belly while he could. He knew that the time would soon come for Leo to deliver, and their place would be bustling with newborns and nannies. He was excited to be a dad soon, but he would miss this. He felt Leo’s skin tense, and heard the poor man grunt in discomfort, and realized that maybe that time would come sooner than later.

“Should I call the doctor?” Marko asked, peeking around Leo’s gravidity to see him silently nodding. Leo’s contractions had been ever so slowly manifesting, and with his body readying itself for childbirth, the two knew it’d be best to have professionals on call sooner than later. Marko gently patted the side of Leo’s tightening belly, and pulled out his phone. It seems after two years, the time had come.

Three weeks later

Leo and Marko’s household had indeed become a bustling scene. After a successful, if very long, birthing process, they had welcomed all 50 healthy children into the world, 31 girls and 19 boys. Among the sea of singletons was three sets of identical twins, a set of triplets, and even a set of identical quadruplet boys. “They’re going to be a troublesome crew when they’re older,” Marko had joked. They took turns between sleeping, feeding, changing, and playing with their kids, making sure to spend time with all of them. Thankfully Leo’s body kept milk production to its max, so everyone stayed fed, but it took a crew of almost 20 nannies around the clock to keep everyone happy.

Still, the pair sat together, Leo breastfeeding and Marko bottle feeding two at a time each, falling into a rhythm of sorts. “Hey honey?” asked Marko. “Hmm?” replied Leo, a pair of three week old girls in his arms. “I’m proud of you,” Leo smiled, looking at his husband. “You helped me through it, it was a team effort,” he said. The couple sat in companionable silence, taking time to revel in how cute their kids were. Marko chuckled, “what?” asked Leo. Marko shook his head, “It’s stupid but… I’m just curious…” he paused. “Would you ever want to do this again?”

[cobaltusami]

Tropical Vacation pt. 5

Hey hi hello! I'm back at it again with another chapter! I'm scheduling this one to post so I don't forget. I really really liked this one, I put two of my favorite ships In here because of course I did. Kuzuhina and Komanami honestly make my gay heart happy. <3

Characters In this part: Lee!Hajime, Ler!Fuyuhiko, Chiaki, Nagito, Chihiro

Word count: 2,177

Part 1: [Click or tap here!] Part 2: [Click or tap here!] Part 3: [Click or tap here!] Part 4: [Click or tap here!] Part 5: You are here.

After the sun went down, Chihiro found that they couldn’t sleep, so they decided to sneak out of their room to go get something to drink. They took a detour down the stairs after they heard some soft murmuring coming from the lobby.

Upon investigating they found Chiaki playing video games while Nagito watched, chatting to her all the while. As they stepped closer to see what the game was, the floorboards creaked, Nagito and Chiaki’s attention snapped over to The Programmer who blushed in embarrassment for having interrupted them.

“I-I’m sorry! I was just on my way to get something to drink and… I was just curious what you were playing.” they sheepishly explained, looking down at the floor.

Chiaki smiled. “It’s okay,” she said softly, glancing back at the arcade machine. “I’m not sure what the game Is called, The letters are too faded for me to make out. You can come look If you want.”

“Ah! N-No I’ve distracted you enough, I don’t want to be In your way or anything.”

“Really, It’s okay.” She reassured them. “Come join us, Nagito doesn’t bite. If he says something that weirds you out, I’ll handle him.”

Nagito glanced at her nervously before looking at Chihiro. “Chiaki doesn’t bite either… She just tickles.” He smiled in exasperation.

Chihiro hesitated for a moment longer before approaching the two sitting on the bench.

It was a custom bench that Kazuichi made for her and Nagito. He made it after constantly seeing Chiaki sitting playing the game while Nagito either stood next to her or sat on the edge of the machine out of her way and watched. The two had become nearly inseparable over the last month, No one understood why. Chiaki never gave a straight answer when asked, always coming up with a joking answer to their question.

She scooted over, her leg pressing up against Nagito’s as she patted the seat next to her. He put his arm behind her back, his hand resting against the edge of the bench on the other side of her.

Chihiro sat down, studying the machine curiously. “What Is it like?”

“There’s a couple of games programmed into it, But this one is like Pac-man, with Monokuma’s head instead of Pacman. And the ghosts are different colored Usami’s.” Chiaki explained, hitting the start button on it.

The blue lights lit up the dim room and soft 8 bit sounds filled the quiet space, Chihiro smiled as they watched the game enthusiastically. It’s been so long since they’ve seen a video game.

After a few minutes Chiaki paused and turned to Chihiro. “Do you want to play?”

“Wh-What? No, I couldn’t. You’re playing, I don’t want to take over.”

“It’s no problem, It might be nice to watch someone else play for once.” she smiled, to get out of Chihiro’s way, she crawled up into Nagito’s lap, startling him. Apparently he had been zoning out.

“Are you sure…?”

“Mhm. Just hit that button to start.” She replied, pointing to the bright blue button.

Chihiro scooted over so that they were directly in front of the screen now, and hit the button to start. Instantly they were flooded with nostalgia as they remembered all those times they went to the arcade with friends.

They were pretty decent at the game too, once they figured out the A.I’s algorithm they were even able to get a high score.

“Wow, You beat one of my scores.” Chiaki remarked, surprised. Albeit pleasantly so.

“Ah! I-I’m sorry! You probably spent really long trying to fill up the leaderboard!”

“No, No, you’re okay. Really. It’s only a couple of numbers.” She reassured with a gentle smile. “I’m just glad you’re having fun… You really do apologize a lot, Don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry.” Chihiro blushed. “W-Wait, No. I just… I guess I do apologize a lot… I’m sorr--”

Chiaki poked their side, causing them to squeak and stop mid apology. “That’s exactly my point. You don’t have to apologize so much… You’re okay.”

“Still, It’s impressive how quickly you were able to catch on to the A.I’s patterns and use It against It.” Nagito commented with a smile. “I guess that’s why you’re the Ultimate Programmer! You’re able to spot those things pretty easily I would imagine.”

Chihiro smiled sheepishly at the praise. “Yeah, I’m used to analyzing any kind of coding I can find. I like to deconstruct the coding and see how It works.”

“Kind of like Kazuichi when he finds something well built.” Chiaki replied, nodding In understanding.

“I’m glad there’s someone else here that understands these video games and how they work, I’m pretty useless when It comes to them.”

Chiaki narrowed her eyes as she turned to look at Nagito. “You aren’t useless.”

“Ah! Nonono- I didn’t mean It like that! I just meant I’m not good at games!” He quickly put his hands up in defense.

“I’ve got my eyes on you…” Chiaki mumbled, slowly looking away from him.

Chihiro giggled at the two, blushing and squeaking when they realized that they had giggled out loud and Chiaki and Nagito were now looking at them. “I-I’m sorry! I just-- eep!”

They yelped as Chiaki squeezed their side. “Stop apologizing, I mean It. If you apologize one more time, I’ll give you the same treatment I give him when he talks badly about himself.” She warned playfully.

“O-Okay, S-Sor…” They stopped themselves.

Chiaki climbed out of Nagito’s lap as he went to stand up and stretch. “Hey, You wanna try a multiplayer game?” She asked, Chihiro nodded eagerly and the two began to play a new game.

Nagito curled up on the couch, watching his girlfriend happily playing with her new friend. He smiled to himself as he whispered. “It’s moments like these that give me the most hope, watching you be happy Is the best hope of all.”

“Huh? Did you hear something?” Chihiro asked.

Chiaki shrugged. “Must’ve been the game…” though she glanced over her shoulder at Nagito and smiled at him, seemingly she heard him.

Later on In the night Fuyuhiko jolted awake as he heard his doorbell ring, that uneasy feeling was returning to him as he slowly approached the door. Upon checking his e-handbook he discovered It was two In the morning. He jumped when whoever was at his door knocked.

“You’re a yakuza for fucks sake.” He muttered to himself. “Stop being such a little bitch.”

He swung the door open quickly, immediately relaxing upon seeing It was just Hajime. “Oh… It’s just you…” He sighed softly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Sorry Hiko, I know It’s really late… But I couldn’t get to sleep.” Hajime apologized as he came Inside and shut and locked the door behind him.

“Yeah, I can’t really sleep either. I just dozed off for a couple of minutes.” He replied, setting down on the foot of his bed.

Hajime came over and sat down next to him. “You still worried about the students too?” He asked quietly, Fuyuhiko nodded silently.

Hajime smiled a little, putting his hand on top of his. “Yeah me too.” He said. “But for what it’s worth, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Hiko blushed, though he would vehemently deny such a thing. “H-Hey, I’m not a damn kid! I don’t need to be protected!”

The depressed student put his arm around the Yakuza’s shoulders and pulled him into his side in an affectionate half hug. “Fuyu, There Is nothing you can do that’ll convince me not to protect you.”

Fuyuhiko smirked slyly as he rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder. “Nothing, huh?”

“Nope, Sorry.”

Hajime closed his eyes, finally feeling himself relax a bit now that he was with Hiko. He'd had some horrible dreams of Fuyuhiko getting hurt or… worse.

However as usual, his relaxed state didn’t last long before It was ruined. The feeling of fingers ghosting against his sides under his shirt made him jolt back to reality with a string of tired giggles. “Hehehehiko Ehehehehehe… w-what ahahare you doing?”

“What’s It look like, Dumbass? I’m tickling you.” He retorted, amused.

Hajime continued to giggle as he squirmed, gently pushing at the Yakuza. “I cahahahan seehehehehe that, but whyhyhy?”

Fuyuhiko began to tickle Hajime’s belly, causing his giggling to quickly turn into laughter. “I’m showing you I can protect myself.”

“Byhyhyhy tickling mehehehe?! Ahahahaha!” He laughed, doubling over to try to block his stomach.

“If I can take you down, Imagine what I could do to someone else.” He grinned cheekily, tweaking his hips.

“GAHA! Ahahahahahahaha! Thahahahahat doesn’t prohohove anything! Ihihihi’m eheheheasy to tahahake down!” Hajime complained, falling backwards on the bed.

Fuyu was quick to settle himself on the brunette’s hips, his fingers nimbly dancing all across his sides. “Then how are you gonna protect me?? You should just let me protect you.”

“FUHUHUHUYU! NAHAHAT THE SIHIHIHIDES!” He yelped as he switched tactics to squeeze at the sensitive spot. “AHAHAHAHAHAA! STAHAHAAP!”

“Then stop all that crap about protecting me,” Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes.

“NOHOHOHO!”

Well, mistakes were made.

“No?? No!?” Hiko repeated as he leaned down, blowing a raspberry against his side. “What do you mean, No!?”

Hajime screamed, his laughter going up an octave as he arched his back from the sensation. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT THAHAHAAT! PLEHEHEHEASE!”

“I’m a Yakuza, I can protect my damn self!” He reminded him with another raspberry to his side. “Just cut that crap out, It bothers me.”

“WHYHYHYHYHY DOES IT BOHOHOHOTHER YOU??”

“Because when you say that It makes me think that--” Fuyuhiko stopped, his fingers resting on Hajime’s side as he suddenly grew silent.

Hajime giggled tiredly as he recovered from the tickle attack, he looked up at Hiko with a questioning look. “I-It makes you think what?”

He shook his head slightly, looking away from the taller man’s gaze.

The trapped Ultimate reached his hands up, gently cupping the Yakuza’s face as he turned his face back to look at him. “What does It make you think?” he repeated softly.

“It makes me think that something Is going to happen… to you…” He said quietly, reaching his hands up to rest against his.

Hajime frowned as Fuyu pulled out of his gentle hold and got off of him, opting to sit next to him instead. “Hiko, nothing Is gonna happen.”

“Then why would you say that?” The blond asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Because… I had horrible nightmares about something happening to you, and It makes me feel better to say that. It makes me feel like I have some kind of control over this.” He explained, sitting up.

Fuyuhiko’s face softened as he looked Into Hajime’s eyes. “Is that why you came over…?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, pulling him into his lap. “I had to see with my own eyes that you were okay.”

Hiko frowned as he wrapped his arms around Hajime, resting his head against his chest. “I couldn’t sleep because I was scared as soon as I did I would be woken up to the body discovery announcement…”

Hajime pecked a kiss to the top of his head, silent. He wasn’t sure how to make this situation better for either of them, the fact of the matter is that they’re never safe. Monokuma is always throwing out motives to try to tempt the students into killing, and there’s always that fear in the back of his mind that someone might fall for it one day.

“Hajime? Can you…” He trailed off, stopping his train of thought.

“What?”

“N-Nothing. Nevermind.”

“Hiko…? What Is It?”

“Forget I said anything.”

Hajime frowned, reaching his hand up the Yakuza’s sleeping shirt and brushing his fingers against his side. “Tell me, Or I’ll tickle you.” He gave an ultimatum.

Fuyu flinched at the gentle touch, his body shivering. “Fucking hell,” He muttered under his breath. “F-Fine! I was going to ask you If you’d stay with me tonight.”

Fuyuhiko blushed bright pink as he buried his face in Hajime’s chest without waiting for a response.

“Fuyu…”

“That’s why I told you to forget I said anything. Because It’s stupid.” He mumbled.

Hajime smiled warmly as he soothingly ran his fingers up and down the smaller man’s back. “It’s not stupid.” He said softly. “Yeah, I’ll stay the night with you.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

“Hey, Look at me.” Hajime gently pulled the blond back to look in his eyes. “There’s no place I’d rather be than with you. Besides, I might actually get some sleep If I know you’re safe.”

Fuyuhiko blushed even more as he smiled. “Yeah, Me too.”

Hajime leaned in and planted a soft kiss to his forehead, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re so cute, especially when you smile.” he teased lightly.

The blond narrowed his eyes as his neck turned pink from embarrassment.

“Hiko? H-Hey… Wait! DOHOHON’T! AHAHAHAHA!”

Welp, It was worth It to harass his boyfriend. At least Hajime didn’t mind being tickled, At least not by Fuyuhiko.

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirit - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.2)

SUMMARY: reader faces the consequences of interfering with the Agni Kai (emotionally and physically)

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

WARNINGS: angst. Torture, semi nudity (NOT sexually) –traumatising!! physical and some mental abuse. Violence. Mentions/descriptions of death. Crying. Swearing. Ozai being a literal nutter. Azula being nutter 2.0.

A/N: THIS IS A REPOST FROM THE AUTHOR OF THIS FIC - I had some complications with the original blog this fic was posted on so please show this some love,, ALL FUTURE CHAPTERS FOR THIS FIC WILL BE POSTED HERE!! hi friends!! Thank you to everyone who showed some love to the first chapter eep! Anyway I’m really scared for y’all to read this one, but!! I’m aiming to have the gaang in the next one so if you hate this I’m sorry but I didn’t want the story to be rushed so I couldn’t bring myself to skip this :// Please read the warnings!!

Also! In this part italics are internalised thoughts 😊

OTHER PARTS:  pt1   /   pt3   /   pt4   /   pt5   /   pt6

MASTERLIST: Here!

The Fire Lords command echoed throughout the room, encompassing the crowd in a thick silence.

Zuko let out a small gasp, one only you were able to hear. After experiencing just a fragment of the physical pain he endured, you didn’t want him to make any decisions he would regret, especially if he was considering to defend you. You didn’t deserve it. Burnt, dead skin, blisters across your left side in the hot atmosphere around you. Your heart begins to tighten and rip you apart all at the same time, realising how much pain you caused for taking all of those lives.

Continuing to kneel on the floor of the duelling platform, you’re frozen, filled with disgust as you finally acknowledge the person you became. From your first commission four years ago, you were numbed to the experience of taking someone’s life. Seeing the life fade from someone’s eyes as you plunged your flame lit sword into their chest, you felt nothing. It was as if it were just a switch inside of them, nothing more. One moment they were there, the next they’re not. You recall Zemin’s reaction when you recounted the events of your first kill, and he didn’t make it seem like it mattered. His only response was to scold you for showing off because you didn’t need to light your sword on fire to kill the man.

Managing to push through the new thoughts and emotions that have awoken within you, your mind travels back to the boy behind you. Despite what you’re currently feeling, it will never amount to the emotional pain he has after being attacked by his father. Fire Lord or not.

Continuing to face the floor, you can’t bring yourself to even glance at Zuko, barely managing to croak out, “Forget who I am. Stay alive, that would be enough.”

You feel his stare to the back of your head. You wish you could turn around and say something, anything at all, maybe even hold him. Anything to get rid of the disgusting, vulnerable, and isolating feelings within you. You wanted to tell him he didn’t deserve it, even if you didn’t know who he really was. Because as much as you hated to admit it, you were afraid. So fucking afraid. Zemin never taught you what to do in these situations, especially anything involving saving the Prince’s life.

Unknown to you, Zuko’s right arm cautiously reaches out to take hold to the back of your robes. So close his fingertips graze the fabric, but not close enough. The two nearest guards rushed to grab you while everyone in the crowd stared at your figure on the duelling ground.

With one guard on either side of you, they grabbed your arms and shoved you off the platform. Hissing, and failing to shove down a pathetic sob ripping through your half-burnt throat, you fall onto your hands and knees. A moment later, the guards were back at your side, dragging you through the door you couldn’t bring yourself to walk through minutes earlier.

Freedom feels like a distant, pathetic dream.

You try to take in the palace around you as they drag you to the right. Connecting where you are to the map, you saw last night, becomes increasingly difficult as the prolonged burning sensation on your skin begins to fog your mind. It’s no use keeping your eyes open. The dark colours of the palace give you a headache. You want to pass out. Give up completely. But Zemin didn’t lock you up in a pitch-black, underground labyrinth, for three months when you were eight to learn nothing. Instincts kicking in, you allow your eyes to close and begin to count your movements, listening to your surroundings.

20 steps forward.

Turn left.

15 steps.

Turn right.

You notice the guard to your left has a weaker hold on you than your right. Possibly about of disgust for holding your arm, or maybe to cause less pain. You assume the former.

18 steps.

The guards come to a stop.

You feel the guard to your left, slightly turning her body towards you. “Hey, maybe we should stop for a bit. I think the kid passed out.”

Ah, so maybe the latter as well then.

The guard to the right scoffs at her suggestion. “Don’t worry about it. She’s not completely out yet, she managed to keep moving. Probably just weak from the pain. Stupid kid. We’ve got a long way to go, and the Fire Lord will want her towards the top of the prison.”

Still unconvinced the female guard persists, “Shouldn’t we be taking her to the infirmary? These are really severe burns.”

There’s a pause. Only for a few moments, but enough for them to weigh up their options. “We should, but the Fire Lord would end us if we did that. We’ll just send a healer to the cell after we get her there.”

The guard shakes you, forcing you to open your eyes. Guiding you out of the palace, you squint your eyes as the sun blinds you, eventually able to make out a tall tower-like building before you. Entering the darkness that lies inside it, you struggle to keep up with their pace as they wind their way further and further up the spiral. Making it to a cell, the guard to the right drops you instantly making you crumble to the floor, eliciting a subtle dig to your hip. You’d forgotten all about the dagger strapped around your waist under your robes—the one you used to kill the general.

While the guard is holding your injured arm tugs you back up, you decide to act while one of them is preoccupied. Balancing on your right leg, you swing your left leg around, slamming into the back of their knees, making them fall. You quickly take out the dagger from underneath your robes, flipping it in your hand and using the blunt of the handle to knock her out in the head. The thud to the guards’ head alerts the other ahead of you. By the time they’ve processed what happened, you ran to them, kicking them in the stomach propelling them into the cell they recently managed to open. Running towards them you drop to both of your knees, arching your back as you slide under streams of fire passing above you. Rookie move on their part. Bringing your torso back up, you send a punch to their face knocking them out cold.

You grab the other guard and drag them into the cell as well and swap your robes for their uniform. It’s too large for your adolescent figure, but its good enough. Taking the keys, you lock them both in there, closing the main door on your way out in hopes no one will notice them in there instead of you.

Breath, you still have a long way to go.

With determined strides, you make your way past other guards in the prison, praying to the spirits that for once they’ll be on your side. Following the steps you memorised in your head from earlier, you end up back at the point where they led you from the arena. From this point, you decide to go in the opposite direction to which they took you. To the left.

Stay calm y/n, you’re going to make it.

You find a door leading out of the castle, and you can see the palace gates in the distance.

Holy Spirits! So… I would have made it out in time if I left the Agni Kai… That doesn’t matter anymore, you’re going to make it out now.

Walking out into the open, you force yourself to suppress a scream of pure joy. Time began to slow down as you saw the gates coming closer and closer. So close you started wondering where you’d go once you made it through.

Those thoughts were abandoned when you hear screaming from behind you.

“Close the gates! That guard is the traitor! Don’t let her out, and close the gates!”

No. No, not again. No, no, no! Fuck!

Breaking out in a sprint, you push yourself harder and further than any training exercise Zemin put you through. You let out a painful scream as if it would make you run faster than the guards at the gates, slowly pushing them shut. Nothing could compare to how much you wanted this slice of freedom. After just a few hours of being in the miserable palace, you were convinced you’d rather walk and swim to the Northern Water Tribe without any food or water, than have to spend another moment here. Mind going into overdrive, you don’t seem to hear or even register the fact that there is a group of around twenty guards behind you, ready to take you down.

With an echoing clang, they seal the gates shut. You falter, slowing down as waves of desperation and hopelessness consume you, yet unable to bring yourself to stop completely.

No, please.

One guard managed to catch up to you in your moments of weakness, throwing a strong punch to your head before you have time to react.

WEEK ONE

It had been a week since you were caught (again) and imprisoned in the Fire Nation jail cell and quite frankly, you were bored. After your stunt when you were first brought here, they ensured that you would never have access to any sharp objects, serving food in wooden bowls with only your hands to eat. Bold of them to assume you didn’t know 21 ways to use the bowl if you truly desired to kill them. No one spoke to you, not even the healer who came in wordlessly the first night to treat your burns. You lay on your right side, staring up at the ceiling admiring the small light that came through the poor excuse of a window.

I wonder if Zemin was worried when I never came back. Would he be worried? No that’s a stupid question, of course not. If anything, he’d be annoyed that I damaged his reputation by getting caught… I still hope he got those gold pieces though, at least then I can slowly waste away in here knowing I don’t owe him any more money. Maybe he could finally fulfil his dream and go to Ba Sing Se. He used to always guilt me into learning a new form of fighting, groaning on about how he gave up the money he had to move there and start a new life with the woman he loved, to raise me. Idiot. He never had an obligation to raise me in the first place, I’m probably from nowhere, and my parents were probably mediocre people in the grand scheme of things. Who even were my-

Cutting off your train of thought, one of the guards walked up to the cell and unlocked it, another quickly grabbing your wrists, and latching them in chains. “The Fire Lord has ordered to speak with you.”

You crack a smirk, “Oh goodie, I think I’m ready for a rematch!”

“Shut it kid, you’re lucky he ordered that you can’t be disposed of… yet.”

Am I lucky? Being burnt alive and having access to a non- waterbending healer and a bowl of old rice is lucky? Oh great Spirits, thank you for gracing my life with these blessings from the great Fire Nation.

What. A. Load. Of. Shit.

Leading you to the palace, you make it into the throne room. At this point, you wanted to laugh at their efforts to scare you.

Really? Dark Lighting and a fire wall right in front of the throne you sit high and mighty? If only I were an Airbender, then I could huff and puff until you fall into the flames.

A guard standing near the Fire Lord is the first to speak. “Bow before your Fire Lord!”

Spitting on the ground, you look at Ozai in the eye. “I will never bow before you!”

He laughs.

“I know you are the one who killed one of my generals before the duel after acquiring your blade. It’s quite interesting how you managed to get to him without any bending, I must find and congratulate whoever your trainer was. Lucky for you though, the general was of no value to me and easy to replace. I will also show you mercy for what you did at the Agni Kai, only because it was my disgrace of a son you protected, and just like that general, not anyone truly valuable to the nation. Regardless of your crimes, you have already proven yourself a very great asset for a mere child. For that, I will grant you the ultimate freedom, free of any ties you have with the low lives outside of the Capital. Instead, you can directly serve your Fire Lord as my personal assassin. I will have the best swordsmen train you. Taking your abilities to new heights, you wouldn’t even begin to imagine for yourself. I will make you unstoppable. For a non-bender, that is.”

Based on the confident yet bored tone of his voice, you could easily assume he didn’t care. Yet his golden eyes narrow down towards your figure. Waiting. Testing to see if you dare defy his wishes. The offer is objectively easy. Technically, all he is asking of you is to do the same thing you’ve been raised to do, just under his allegiance.

Zuko flashes in your mind. Tears streaming down his face, and begging his father for mercy. “I will never kill for you! I would rather relive the burns you gave me every day than stand by your side!”

He sighs. “If that is what you wish. Maybe over time, you will learn what a great honour it is to be offered such an opportunity, let us meet again next week.”

The guards, as if they were expecting this, shoved you to your knees, ripped off the top you were wearing, and the bindings across your chest. Frozen as the warm air from the flames around you hit your chest, you were mortified. Knowing other guards present were intently watching you be humiliated in front of the Fire Lord, you forced yourself to control the urge to vomit the contents of your prison food on the floor. Quickly bringing your arms and hands to your chest, you winced at the sudden movement from your left arm.

Without any time to mentally prepare, both guards ignited streams of fire to your back. Instinctively you hunch over, attempting and failing to avoid the flames. Unbeknownst to you, everyone in the palace all the way to the kitchens, froze as your haunting screams echoed throughout its halls.

Through your tears and screams, you faintly heard the Fire Lord speak. “You will learn to agree, and you will comply.”

THREE MONTHS

Despite crying every time it happened, you became accustomed to the burnings every week you refused Ozai’s offer. You began to lose any emotional feeling when it happened, robotically going through each step.

They bring you to the throne room.

You say no.

You take off your shirt and bindings for yourself.

The guards burn you.

You cry.

Ozai watches you as if he had better things to do with his time.

Although today, hours after the ritual, you received your first guest that wasn’t a guard or a healer. You knew who they were after sensing them as they hid behind a pillar in the throne room every week. Sensing them through the body heat within them, a gift you always had since you were little. Theirs was crackled with so much anger and hatred; it was so unique to everyone in the palace, you barely had to think about it.

“What do I owe the pleasure of the one and only Fire Nation Princess being in my worthless presence?”

“Shut it scum!”

You let out a small laugh. “Ooo scum? That’s a lovely nickname, but honestly, a little bland, don’t you think? You ARE the Fire Nation princess after all, why not add a little spice to it?”

She didn’t seem to like that. “ENOUGH! You want spice?!” Shooting a streamline of fire from her fingertips, she shot at your head. Luckily enough, you weren’t in front of Ozai or defending her brother, so you swiftly dodged her shot.

Not giving her the satisfaction of retaliation, you sat in the middle of the cell, closing your eyes and crossing your legs. You began to meditate, trying to block out the irritating sense of fire within her.

She walked up to the bars, staring down on you. “I hope you know that my dear brother Zuzu won’t be coming back any time soon.”

This was the first time you’d heard about the Prince since the Agni Kai. She paused, waiting to see if she got a reaction out of you, but you were a trained assassin for Spirit’s sake, you had more control than that. Letting out a deep breath of air, you knew all you needed to do was stay calm.

“You do know what happened to him after you failed to protect him, don’t you? Oh! That’s right if I do recall correctly, you were so paralysed with what you had done, you didn’t even spare him a glance!” She let out a laugh as you remained still.

“Awww, yes! Poor Zuzu doesn’t even know what his ‘saviour’ looks like and he never will! You want to know why, scum?”

Not really but I guess I don’t have much of a choice.

“Because he will NEVER come back. He will NEVER step foot into the Fire Nation again because he was banished to capture the Avatar! It’s a bit ironic, don’t you think? All your pathetic little life, you have been KILLING to get out of here, gain your freedom, and you’re never going to get it. You’ll die in this cell. Yet, on the other hand, Zuzu wants nothing more than to come right home and stand by father’s side! That really does top it all off, doesn’t it, scum? You have trapped yourself here, to save someone who only just wants to come crawling right back. And if he ever did by some miracle, capture the Avatar? He would look you in the eyes and burn you himself for being such a traitor to this Nation.”

You tensed for a second, keeping your eyes closed you quickly regained composure. “Okay Azula, you’ve had your fun. That’s enough.”

She smirked with a sinister glint in her eyes. “You embarrassed him that day. You took away the little bit of dignity he could have had if you just let him get all his scars… Or at least let him die getting them.”

Enough.

“You will forever be a reminder of what should have been his. You’re going to die here for nothing.”

Enough.

“You thought you could do some good in this world? You were wrong! Your one poor excuse for saving someone’s life will always mean nothing! Zuko doesn’t care if you saved his life! He hates you! He hates you for taking away his dignity! You will die with him hating you! Your hope for doing good in this world means nothing because he is searching to take away the one thing that would end this war, even though they’re already dead!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH, AZULA!” Opening your eyes, they snapped from your usual e/c to a blinding golden light. The fire you trained for so long to control reached its tipping point and exploded from every pore in your body setting fire to anything in its wake. Azula rushed away from the bars of your cell as it melted around you. Feeling your hair raise in a halo of fire, you raised your right arm as a blast fired right next to her head. A warning shot.  

The guards outside of the cell who have been watching you since you were imprisoned, stared in shock. Not once had you shown any indication of being a fire bender.

Generally, in this state, you were unstoppable. A force even Zemin didn’t 100% know how to train, leaving you to your own devices. However, these weren’t normal circumstances. You have been tortured weekly, barely given any food or water and countless wounds that aren’t even close to being healed. After the sudden use of intense energy, you felt yourself passing out, allowing the guards to grab you quickly.

***

Groaning as if no time had passed, you found yourself chained up on a boat. “Am I going to be executed?” You weren’t sure if you were worried or hopeful at the possibility.

The female guard you knocked out on your first day in the palace sat next to you, letting out a sigh. “No, but you might as well be in your condition. You’re going to Boiling Rock, into The Cooler.”

SEVEN MONTHS

The guards came by the Cooler to deliver your food. They usually throw it to the ground and leave, but it seems today they received news that was too good to pass up the opportunity to torment you.

“Did you hear that kid? They tracked down your poor excuse of a trainer and killed him. Figured if the best he could produce was you, he wasn’t even worth sending to Boiling Rock.”

You remained curled up in the corner, unmoving as they laughed their way down the hallway. As their laughs slowly died down, you realised how pathetic you let yourself become.

Why did people have to keep dying because of you? You wanted to scream. Burn this stupid icebox down with your hands. Set the whole place to flames. But you were tired. So, so tired. You didn’t even have the energy anymore to cry when they burned you every week. Regularly being exposed to entirely polar elements began to fuck with your body. It didn’t know how to function anymore. Physically and mentally.

Despite being four months since your encounter with Azula, her words continued to spin in your mind every day. What seemed to break you the most was that you knew even if she were right, you’d do it again. If you could go back, you knew you would jump in front of him every time if it meant he was alive. Knowing he was far away from this hell hole brought you a weird sense of peace, regardless of if he was searching for the Avatar or not.

Unlike him, you weren’t far away from this wretched place. You were helpless.

Grabbing the old and cold bowl of rice, you finished your meal for the first time in three weeks.

EIGHT MONTHS

The guards walked in to take you to the palace for your weekly offer, and for the first time, you were already standing. After placing the chains to your wrists, they took you out of your cell just like they did every week. While travelling back to the Capital, you continuously persuaded yourself, this was the only way. You knew, deep down, this was the right choice. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

Entering the throne room, you make your way up to Ozai. Holding eye contact as the flames burn between you.

Bowing before him in the most traditional Fire Nation bow you can muster. You bring yourself back upright, stance and face stoic, contrasting the satisfied smirk on his face. For the first time, he doesn’t bother to make his offer.

“I am at your full service, and ready to comply my Fire Lord.”

A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading this or coming from my old blog!! please follow this one and stick around, I am currently working on the third chapter and a lil sokka oneshot :)) and to my taglist, i love you all, thank you all so much, i’m so sorry that you all have to deal with me rn and im so so sorry <3

TAGLIST:

@slythergirlimagines​ @mangoberry43​ @eridanuswave​ @whiskeywinter89​ @callums-keith​ @kaylove12​ @simplyfandomish​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​

[after-valiant-hero-ask]

Soooo, somehow the "keep reading" Thing on tumblr kinda beoken for me, so I can't really post this with the keep reading, but also, I made a post about going to make a fandic of After Valiant Hero that takes place BEFORE the main event onthe comic, sooo, here it is!! I hope you all enjoy it! (And also, it's 2.000+ words long, so, it's kinda long^^)

============================

"TONIGHT"

by LovelyPink2005

——————————

Summary:

This takes 2 months after the valiant Hero ending, right when the toppats decided to celebrate their fully recovered airship and the clan, but something is up with sven that made him missed the whole party.

Note:

I'm not that good on english, so, I'm so sorry if this fic came out bad^^"

And also, this is a fanfic I wrote about the story of the messy doodle/sketch comic I did of sven and Charles on whiteboard, so, uhhh, yeah^^"

——————————

It was the day after they did their first heist after recovering their airship and their clan, which is 2 months after the Valiant Hero ending. It also charles's first time too, he feels strange for doing that, like there's something wrong with it but can't quite put a finger on it. He decided to forget about it. "It's probably just the side effect."

 

The toppat clan wanted to celebrate it for their success, they talk to talk, share to share about having a party for it, until it delivered to charles and sven who is on their room. "A party huh?" Sven said as he put his hand on his chin, thinking about it. "Suits yourself, If you wanted to celebrate it, then go for it" He continue with a smile on his face. He turned his head to charles to see his face full of excitement for that party, like he never had them before.

"Sven" Charles called as he put his hand on sven's shoulder. "Let's have it tonight!"

"Yeah, sure..." Sven paused, looking down for a second, and lifted his face back to charles. "Sure!".

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, if you all want it, then go for it."

"Alright, I'll go inform the others about this." He gives sven a pat on the back before leaving the room.

Sven waves and wanted to say "c'ya" to charles very badly, but charles already left them room. Sighed, and sits back to his bed, and looked up on the ceiling, smiling. "Hey, are you ok there..?" His face could easily shows you a bit of sadness, and pain. Sven was talking to himself, but really, he just missed his old friend.

Someone who used to be around him, a friend who ALWAYS around him ever since he joined the toppat clan. Burt Curtis. That's his name. Sven and Burt joined the toppat clan on the same day years ago, they even meet right before entering the airship. They keeps on running into each other as their relationship grows, until they become the best of friends. Even after Sven become the leader, their relationship or friendship still is the same.

But… sadly… He died at the orbital station when it exploded. got left behind because he was trapped on a room and couldn't get out. Sven wish he could found him, but the other toppats dragged him with force to the pod.

He couldn't save him. He failed to save him. The last thing he even heard from him was a when he called sven after the luxury pod has escaped.

"We're having a party tonight... Wish you could join us burt." A tear runs down on his face.

He wiped it as he rubs his eyes. "Ugh, c'mon sven, pull it together!" He palmed both of his hands on his face and falls on his bed.

"He's gone! Just.. Try to—– uuggghh!" He sighed to himself. He quickly sits up and try to pull his act together. A forced smile on his face, but it's not that obvious.

Take a deep breath, and let it out as he then go outside to also inform the others about the party. Yeah, let's just focus on that, focus on the clan. Maybe the other could distract him from his mind.

 ---

Charles straight up go to the cafeteria since most toppats usually just hang out there. He saw one of the toppat he usually talk to if sven wasn't around. He called him.

"Harold!" Said charles as he waved his hand at him and the other toppats that's with him.

Ah yes, Handsome Harold. Charles usually hang around him since he's the second person who ever talk to him after he woke up and got amnesia.

"Oh, Charles" Harold rise his hand up as high as his face.

"Sve— uhh, Chief said that we're having a party to celebrate the fully recovered of our clan!"

Harold and the other toppats look at each others as their eyes widened open.

What?? "Really?"

Charles nodded. The other toppats slowly having their face with smiles.

"Alright lads! Let's prepare things up for the party!" One of the toppat called Wallace Dagwood, yelled as the others on the cafeteria then cheered.

A couple of hours has passed, and the party is almost ready. The whole cafeteria was full with a lot of stuff, Charles just can't wait for sven to see this. There's a bunch of food and snacks on the food table, such as pizza, chicken wings, tacos, cupcakes, cake, and other food that usually on a party. There's also a berry punch, and some alcohols on the drink table.

Beside the foods and drinks, there's also a lot of decorations and other stuff that changed on the cafeteria. Like a small stage for anyone who wanted to perform anything. Blue carpet on the whole floor of the room, and disco light-ball. Charles can't really describe everything, but all he could say is that everything is going to be awesome!

Huh?

In a flip, he realized something. He haven't see Sven around to help since he know that Sven likes to help around.

Is he not feeling well?

He did startled for sometimes today whenever he talks… is there anything wrong with him?

Charles can only feel worried about him. But he hopes that non of his thoughts are true.

"Oi Charles!"

Sometimes tapped his shoulder. He jumped a bit and making the "eep" Sound as he surprised.

"Hmm? Oh, it's you" He signed, It was of course Harold.

"What were you thinking? I saw you were excited a view second ago, but then you immediately worried" Said Harold.

"What's wrong?"

"I- huh? No no, you guessed it wrong, why would I be worried when there's a party right in front me?"

How the heck did he know? Can he read face expression that good???

Harold sighed. "Charles, it's all over your face."

Shoot, Right. Knew it.

"O-oh, well, you're right" He smiles. "But I only worried because this will be the first party I'll ever have, since, you know.." He scratched his head.

He lost his memories. He can't even remember everything, how can he remember the last time he even go to one, right?

"Yeah, I know, sorry for that" He wrapped his hand around Charles.

"But they'll all come back! Even if they won't, you can always create new memory!" Harold just trying to cheer 'em up. "Just don't forget to have your medicals, 'kay?"

Charles smile and nodded.

Both of them then go to help t he others finishing some stuff for the party.

---

Sven was outside of the security room, the place where he get to see outside and have the winds in his hair (the place where henry got in the airship when we choose the grapple gun (PBT)).

Just standing there, watching the sun setting down. He looked at the sky.

Thinking to himself. Wishing that all of this was just a really long dream, and when he wakes up, everything was still… Normal. Burt still there, the orbital station was save and sound. And Reginald never got arrested.

He's been there for a hour now, until Charles contacted him. His phone buzzing.

"Hmm?" He picked his phone. It's Charles…

He takes a deep breath, and then answer the call. "Hello"?

"Sven! Where are you? I can't find you in your room, or the cafeteria!" Said Charles in a little worried tone.

"The party is starting in a hour!"

"Oh, really?" He responded as his eyes widened a bit. He didn't thought it'll be starting that fast. "That was fast"

"Yeah, and— wait, Sven! Are you at that place again??" Charles could hear the sound of the winds through sven's phone.

"... Well, yeah?"

"What's wrong?? You only goes there is you're down, you know that you have your greatest friend hereto help you!" Charles raised his voice, but not in an angry way, but more like in a worried and abit of disappointed tone.

Huh? Oh right, he knew.

"No, it's fine Charles! I only looking for some fresh air!"

Hmmm, that sounds convincing alright.

"Okay, but you HAVE to be here when the party started! It'll be the greatest time, truste!"

Sven chuckled on how silly Charles is. "Yeah yeah, I'll be there".

He closed the call as he sighed. He closed his eyes and smile as he shakes his head.

"Charles Charles, guess there's different between you two after all" He chuckled.

Sven then make his way In. He walk through the security room, the hall of portraits, and finally, the kitchen. He stopped there for a bit, looking at the drawer. He then turns around and open up the drawer where he knew a bottle of alcohol would be there. He takes it and looks at it for a while. His face seems like he had no emotions, it's pale, but you could see through his face that he's… tired.

Sven continue walking and bringing the alcohol. He's going to his room.

---

An hour and a half has passed, and there is no sign of Sven yet. Charles keeps on looking around. The party already going since around 30 minutes ago. Charles bit his lips for a bit, worried if there's really something wrong with sven.

He takes a sip of the berry punch as he holding one cup of it.

"Sven, where are you?" He whispered to himself.

A toppat named Carol Cross approach Charles from behind. "Where's sven?" She asked.

"Oh! Miss Carol!" He waved his hand to her, and then immediately scratched his head. "I uh, not sure, I haven't see him anyway around this place".

"Hmm, you should go and find him, don't wanna make him missed tonight."

"Yeah, maybe I should" He put his cup on the table. "Cya around Miss carol, and enjoy the party!". Charles immediately left the cafeteria and try to look for Sven everywhere. It'll took him a while since the airship is really big, he could be anywhere.

After a while, he still couldn't find him, until he walked over to their room.

"Sven? Are you here?" Charles opened the door to their room and look inside.

As he though, he was on their room, sitting on the chair right in front of his small desk beside his bed. But is he drinking by himself??

"Uhh… Sven, are you drunk?" He asked as he approach him. He saw a bottle of alcohol beside him that's almost empty. Sven usually can't handle to much alcohol, a couple of small cup can already made him drunk alright.

He sits next to him. "Are.. you ok? You shouldn't drink by yourself sven".

" O-oh… burt, you're here—"

Burt?? Who is he talking about? He's clearly brunk very badly.

"Uhh, sven, it's me, Charles. You're ready drunk, aren't you?"

He then takes the bottle from sven to prevent him from drinking more. "You should stop now, you don't even recognize me that well" He put the bottle away.

Sven looks at sven, his face really looking like a zombie who just came back to life. He smiled as he saw Charles.

"S-stop joking around—– I know that's you Burt-" He hiccups every now and then.

"Heh, you're so silly Burt… I know it's you.." Sven turned his head back to the cup he's holding.

"You'll always found me whenever I'm like.. This—- I know I've only saw you a couple hours ago…But for some reason… i missed you.. So— much.."

Charles has no clue what he's talking about. But then he somehow remember something. Sven once mentioned he used had a friend from high school maybe? He said they're really close friend. One thing he know that sven missed them too, so, Charles assume he think he's the old friend of sven???

A sob could be heard from sven.

"I…Always wanted to tell you something… b-but— I'm always to coward.."

Charles kinda feels bad for him. He then patted sven's back. "Sven, snap out of it, it's me, Charles, you should get some rest and—–" Before he finish his sentence,he could feel that Sven is about to pass out in any moment. "Woah, sven-"

"I know I know… but B-burt.. Before I Pass out, at least let me tell you h-how I—–"

Without any warning, sven grabbed Charles hand and dragged him really closed to him.

"S-sven!?"

Again, without any warning, sven pulled Charles closer as he kissed him on the lips for like 5 second.

What. The. Heck!?!?!???? Did he just..!?

Sven then immediately fall as he fainted. Charles quickly grab him before he fell to the floor.

Charles's face became RED. He didn't know what the hell just happened. Did his friend just kissed him!? That was unpredictable. He couldn't believe that.

"Wh— what was that…!?"

He never and didn't have that kind of feeling towards Sven, so that's not the reason he blushed. Sven literally just took Charles's first kiss. And that's at least how Charles feel about it. He rubs his mouth as in, he wish that never happened. He didn't want his first kiss to be from his great friend.

But at the same time, he still feel bad for Sven. He once mentioned that he used to have this friend on high school and rhat they've separated from each others for so long, with sven still have this feeling for them. At least that's what Charles assume.

Charles sighed. The blush on his face started to fade away as he calmed down.

"W-well, guess sven will missed tonight's party."

Charles then picks up Sven and lay him down on his bed. He put the blanket on him.

After that Charles tried his best NOT to mention that even happened or even slipped through his mouth as he foes back to the party.

---

The sun is rising, another day has come.

The party was a blast last night, but to bad sven missed all of it.

Sven slowly opens his eyes ashe waking up. Yawning and rubs his eyes before sitting down. He feels a bit dizzy, but can't quite remember what happened last night.

Oh wait, think he did, he remember that he drank by himself on the room until he passed out. At least that's how he remembers it.

As Sven was still sitting on his bed,Charles came in the room while having himself a cup of coffee. He then saw Sven.

"O-oh, morning there sven!" He waved his hand at him, highly hoping he didn't remember what happened last night. He sat down on his own bed.

"Morning Charles, didn't expect you to wake up sooner than me" Said sven as he stretched his arms.

"Oh, yeah, uh, well, you were really tired yesterday, so, that's explain why you over slept?" He takes a sip from his hot coffee.

"Heh, pretty much, I was kinda uh, drunk last night and passed out"

Phew, He didn't remember THAT. Charles relief.

"Yeah-" Charles then change the topic in a second to prevent him from trying to remember that night.

"H-hey sven! You totally missed the party! As I said, it was the greatest!" He said as he smiles brightly.

"Oh really?" He smiled back to him. "Tell me about it then.

Charles then when on telling Sven everything that happened on the party, really detailed. From where Charles went off to inform the others about doing a party, until the party ended and everyone have to clean them up after it.

Days has passed, and Sven haven't remember what has happened that night. So Charles decided to keep it a secret to himself, until now.

===========================

Welp, that's all of the fantic! I hope you enjoyed this, and tha k you so much for putting your time to read this all t he way down here! I really appreciate it!✨✨✨

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Summary: From cleaning up their city, to strengthening their partnership, to untangling their love lives—New York has taught Ladybug and Chat Noir that they can get through anything together.  Well, everything except automatic doors.  (New York special reveal fic)

Word Count:  6722

XXX

Marinette had gotten back from New York three days ago, but it wasn’t until she saw Chat Noir that she really came home.

He’d arrived early to the meeting spot—a rooftop where someone had planted a pot of blue forget-me-nots—and he hummed under his breath while perching at the roof’s edge.

“Little kitty on a roof... all alone without his lady…” 

She thought she’d overcome the stutter in her heart when she heard that tune.  But that was before she’d almost lost her partner again.

“Not alone anymore,” she said, plopping down next to him and bumping his shoulder.

He didn’t bump back.  That was weird.

“Kitty?”  She leaned forward, trying to get a better look at his face.  The mask made it difficult to tell, but she was pretty sure his green eyes were rimmed with red.  “Are you alright?”

He shrugged too quickly.  “It’s nothing.  I’m really glad to see you again, LB.”

“Which is why you haven’t looked at me this whole time.”

Finally, he met her eyes, and she gasped.  He’d definitely been crying.  A lot.  What had… what had happened?  Was it just seeing the city for the first time since they’d been back?  Mayor Bourgeois had done a surprisingly good job of organizing the cleanup, but there was still a long way to go.  That was the reason they’d come out on patrol tonight, so surely he’d expected the damage.

Could he still be upset about everything that had happened between them?  No.  He knew she’d forgiven him.

Still, she squeezed his hand just in case.

“Chat.  You know you can always tell me the truth.”

His eyes went wide, and then fresh tears welled in them.

“I—right.  I promised I’d never hide the truth from you again.”  He wiped his eyes with the heel of his free hand.  “I’ve just been stupid.  Even more stupid, if that’s possible.”

“You’re not stupid,” she said.  Stupidly.  She didn’t know what would help, but surely she could come up with something more comforting than that.  “You’re the brave, amazing, irreplaceable Chat Noir.”

He snorted.  “My girlfriend thinks I’m replaceable.”

The world screeched to a halt.  The moon could’ve fallen from the sky, and she wouldn’t have noticed.

“You have a girlfriend?”

Chat Noir winced.  Oops.  She probably shouldn’t have shouted right by his ear.

“I had a girlfriend.  For almost a month.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

His brow scrunched under his mask.  “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to make you jealous.  And… I didn’t tell anyone, actually.  It kind of had to be secret in case my father…” He shook his head.  “Sorry.  I don’t want to get too close to my identity.  Which is another reason I didn’t tell you.”

Of course.  There was no good reason for him to tell her.

She still felt like she should’ve known.

“I’m sorry.  You had every right to keep your personal life private.”  She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand.  “And I’m sorry about your girlfriend, too.  She clearly doesn’t know who she’s missing out on.”

He looked up from where he’d been staring at their hands.  “I—uh-um-hhhh-yeah.”

She made a noise somewhere between an eep and a cough, jerking her hand back so quickly she almost fell backwards.

“I—I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you—no!  Um, you’re a catch?”  Oh, that was even worse!  What was wrong with her?  “You—you know what I mean!”  

His head tilted.  “I, um. Do I?”

She dropped her head in her hands.  She didn’t even know what she meant.  She was still in love with Adrien.  The last thing she wanted to do was give Chat false hope.

“Sorry,” she groaned.  “Lately I can’t get two words out without making a mess of things.”

“Join the club.”  He snorted.

“I might not be much help, but… do you want to talk about it?”

“You—you’d let me?”

“You did say you weren’t going to hide things from me anymore.”  She smiled, bumping his shoulder.

This time, he bumped her back.  “I guess I did.”

He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts.  The sounds of traffic drifted up from below to fill the gap.  Funny how even the traffic felt more like home in Paris.

“It was my fault, as usual,” he murmured.  “I didn’t tell her I was leaving Paris, either.”

“You didn’t?”  It made sense that he wouldn’t want to hurt his partner, but why would he hide from someone in his civilian life?

“Like I said.  Stupid.”  He shook his head.

“Not stupid enough to break up with you over.”  She frowned.  “Not if she really loved you.”

That probably wasn’t the most tactful thing to say, either.  She hoped Chat’s girlfriend loved him.  He’d always been so full of love, it was difficult to imagine him with someone who wouldn’t return it.

“It… wasn’t just that.”  He took a deep breath.  “Promise you won’t hate me?”

That question didn’t reassure her, but she still knew her answer.

“You’re my best friend, kitty.  I could never hate you.”

The tension drained from his shoulders.

“Right.  I should know that by now.  It’s just hard to remember, when I’m so scared and stupid and—I think I might have accidentally cheated on her.”

Marinette blinked.  Chat?  Cheating?  The boy who would rather turn Marinette down in front of her Marichat-shipping papa than hide his feelings for Ladybug?

“What did you do?”  

His ears drooped.  He looked so limp without the over-the-top confidence that normally filled him. 

“I danced with another girl.  And hugged her a lot.  I thought it was as friends but then my other friend posted some pictures of us to Instagram, because she didn’t know that I was dating K—my girlfriend, and it looked way worse than it was and my girlfriend thinks I’m in love with this other girl and I… the worst and best thing is she might be right.”

Wow.  That was.  There was a lot to unpack there.

“You’re… in love with… two people?”  Neither of which are me?

No.  Bad Marinette.  This wasn’t about her; this was about Chat Noir.  Besides, she wanted him to move on!

“I don’t know.  All I know is that I never wanted to hurt either of them, and I feel awful.”

...Was this about her?  The sentiment definitely hit too close to home.  

“It stinks, doesn’t it.” She sighed.

“More than Plagg’s cheese.”

That got a smile out of her.  “I wish I knew how to help, but the truth is, I’ve never had any luck with love either.”

Chat’s brow furrowed.  “But what about the boy you…?”

Her throat clogged.  Memories flashed through her mind—her and Adrien dancing in the sky, tumbling through doorways, accidental touches and soft smiles and words she’d said too late. 

“This isn’t about me,” she said, banishing those thoughts.“We’re working on your love life tonight.”

Unraveling hers would probably require an intervention from Bunnyx.  Or a Lucky Charm.  Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

Because Tikki would kill me, probably.

“I don’t think there’s much to work on,” he muttered.  “I blew it with my girlfriend.  And what if I do try to ask out the other girl, but I just make the same mistakes again?”

Marinette smiled and placed her hand over his arm.  “You always learn from your mistakes, kitty.  And you’re always thinking of other people first.  If you just learn how to be honest with everyone—including yourself—I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”  

Wow.  Three whole coherent sentences.  That was miraculous.

“Heh.  And you said you didn’t have any love advice.”

“Well… I guess I can give it, but I can’t take it.”  She grimaced.  If only she’d been honest with Adrien…

But it wasn’t over.  She knew how much he meant to her, and she knew what she stood to lose.  Somehow, she’d find a way to tell him.

He bumped her shoulder.  “Come on, bug.  Spill the tea.”

She blinked before bursting out laughing.  “Spill the tea?”

“What?  That’s what you say when you want your friends to tell you some juicy secrets, right?”

“Ew.  Please never call my secrets juicy.  They’re more like… tangled up yarn, so knotted even I barely know what’s happening anymore.”

He winked.  “I’m a cat.  Playing with yarn is what I do best.”

She bit her lip.  He’d opened up to her.  By her own logic—that of no unnecessary secrets—she should return the favor.  But could she really do that to him, knowing how long he’d pined after her?

It doesn’t matter.  He’s in love with someone else now.  Maybe even two someone elses.

The thought was still so bizarre, she could hardly comprehend it.  Clearly he’d been serious about the yellow rose.  He’d moved on, and she… well, she was still where she’d started.  Chasing after Adrien, falling farther and farther behind.

“Maybe another night,” she said.  A coward’s retreat.

He gave her a long look before nodding.  “Alright.”

She let out a breath of relief.  Another night.  He was an outside perspective.  She would tell him later, if only because he might give clearer advice.

She stood and dusted off her legs, even though there was no dirt there.

“Vacation’s over.  We’ve got some cleaning up to do.”

XXX

“Hey.  It’s okay.”  She squeezed Chat’s hand when he paused in front of their statue.  Or, well, what was left of it.  Senti-Robostus had snapped the bronze Ladybug off, then tossed her into the front of a nearby convenience store.  The statue of Chat Noir looked lonely without her perched on top.

“This isn’t one we can fix, is it.”  His voice was sandpaper-rough.

“No.  I don’t think so,” she admitted.  “But it’s okay.  I never really liked that statue anyway.”  

It always reminded her of Copycat, who had turned out to be a total creep.  The Ladyblog had had to ban Theo’s accounts from the discussion boards too many times for comfort.

“...We should get moving again, then,” Chat said, but neither of them did.  They remained standing in place, still linked by their hands.

They’d been shifting rubble for hours, using their enhanced strength and even their powers.  Each time Marinette fed Tikki and transformed, she felt more exhausted than the last.  But Chat had to feel even worse.  His Cataclysm was the most useful for clearing chunks of broken walls, while her Lucky Charm was less reliable when not facing a concrete enemy.  The one score had been a bag of cement mix to fill in a busted sidewalk.

“We can’t fix everything in one night,” she said.  “We can patrol again tomorrow.  Or maybe the night after.”  She had a feeling she’d be too sore to move in the morning, enhanced strength or not.

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered.  “It’s not your fault that everything’s broken.”

She stared at him, stunned.  “Chat.  This is just as much my fault as it is yours.”

“But—”

“No buts.”  She pressed a finger to his lips.  “Paris is our city.  Not yours.  Not mine.  Ours.”

He didn’t argue, but his gaze still remained fixed on the ground.

“I could have stayed.  I could have downloaded an akuma alert app.  There are so many things I could’ve done differently, it could eat me alive,” she admitted, her voice trembling.  “I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“It’s so hard,” he whispered.

She dropped her hand from his lips.  “I know.  But we’ll get through it together.”

He was silent for a moment before nodding.  “You’re right.  You and me against the world… or in this case, you and me against a bunch of crushed buildings.”

She smiled.  It might not be a glamorous part of the job, but they would do their part to make it up to their city.

She raised her fist, and he bumped her knuckles gently.

“I’ll let you know when I’m free for next patrol,” he said, a little more life returning to his voice.  “Probably the day after tomorrow.  My family’s been on edge lately, with… well, you know.”

He nodded towards the broken statue.

“Right.  I’ll keep an eye on Plagg, then.”

Chat chuckled.  “Plagg” was what she’d named the little cat toy that he had the remote for.

This time, she looked forward to hearing the toy’s tiny mew.

XXX

It turned out to be three days before they could meet for patrol again.

“Soooo.”  Chat walked backwards in front of her, grinning in a way that was somehow both obnoxious and adorable.  “It’s another night.”

Oh.  She should’ve known he wouldn’t let that go so easily, especially now that he seemed to be in a better mood.  Had he asked out the other girl he liked?  Or did he patch things up with his girlfriend?  Or maybe he did neither, and he just knew how to move on.

“Technically, it’s not night yet.”  She pointed to the sun that sat low over the skyline.  “Also, there’s a—”

He tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, then toppled backwards against a No Parking sign.  The metal clanged like a gong where his head hit it.

“—pole behind you.”  She giggled.  

He pouted, rubbing the back of his head.  “No Parking?  Why would anyone even try to park here?”

They’d arrived at the worst scene of damage: in front of the Eiffel Tower.  There wasn’t even a road left to park on.  Most of the chasm had been filled in by now, but there were construction crews repairing the pipes and electrical wiring that had been uprooted.  

Of course, the workers had gone home for the evening already.  Marinette and Chat would have to be careful not to get in the way of their unfinished work.  Luckily, there was still plenty of rubble to move, and they’d come prepared with their powerups tonight.

“I’ve got two sets of ears, my lady.  That makes me twice as amazing of a listener.”  He swiveled the leather ears on top of his hair.  When had he learned how to control that?

“Why don’t you save the interrogation for after patrol?”

“It’s not an interrogation!  You accepted my yellow rose, which means we are friends for time and all eternity.  And friends can ask each other about important things in their lives.  Like their crushes.”

“I regret ever bringing that up.”  She pulled the purple macaron from her yo-yo and tossed it into her mouth.  At least she couldn’t say anything incriminating while she was chewing.

The power shocked over her, leaving her magenta space suit in its wake.  A grin tugged at her lips.  She’d never get tired of that.

“It can’t be that bad.”  Chat unzipped a pocket and dug out a purple slice of camembert.  He made a face before chewing it.  “Not as bad as this nasty cheese, anyway.”

He transformed too, plasma-like wings sprouting from his back.

“You know, I can make you the powerup macarons, too.  That way you only have to use the cheese if you’re giving it to Plagg.”

“Wait, really?”  His eyes widened.  “Why didn’t you say that weeks ago?”

“Because it’s too fun to watch you make that face.”  She smirked and flicked his glowing bell.  “But I’m willing to pass up on that in exchange for you leaving my love life alone.”

He sighed.  “If that’s really what you want.”

He looked surprisingly dejected.  Was it just because she was keeping secrets?

“I’m surprised you want to know about… Him,” she said quietly.  “I don’t want to make you feel worse.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, my lady.  I haven’t figured out exactly what I feel for my friend yet, but your advice has helped me start.  I just want to help you in return.”

He smiled behind his helmet.  He meant it.  Somehow, despite all the times she’d turned him down, he just wanted her to feel better.

“Alright,” she relented.

“I swear, I—wait, what?”

“I said alright.”  She chuckled.  “Though I’m a little curious how you planned to convince me.”

He blushed.  “I was going to swear on my honor as your friend that I would take your not-juicy secrets to my grave.”

“Thanks for the thought.  Now come help me with this chunk of cement, and I’ll ‘spill the tea.’”

XXX

It was surprisingly hard not to spill too much tea.  As they flew pieces of rubble out to space, she told him everything she could without jeopardizing her identity.  A few unspecific details, vague confession plans, even that there was another boy in love with her.  Though that seemed less relevant now that she realized she couldn’t quench her feelings for Adrien.

“Wow.  Can you imagine being dense enough not to realize Ladybug is in love with you?”  He sighed wistfully.  Maybe he hadn’t completely given up on her then.

“He’s not dense.”  She grunted as she shoved the chunk of road with her shoulder, finally sending it floating off out of the atmosphere.  “He’s sheltered.  And I don’t always send the clearest signals.”

“I guess helping set him up with a different girl would be a mixed message.”  He winced.  Without giving names, she’d explained the whole double-date fiasco.  He’d been polite enough to stifle his laughter.

“I told you my love life was tangled.  I don’t know that there’s anything you can do to help, but thanks for listening anyway.”

She adjusted her wings, slowing the flare from her jet pack.

“Wait.”  He grabbed her hand before she could begin her descent towards earth. 

She stopped, barely daring to breathe.  Had he changed his mind?  Did he still want to be a thread in her knotted love life after all?

“You told me to be honest with myself,” he continued, his voice soft but sure.  “It sounds like you’ve already done that—so be honest with him, too.”

Oh.  She grimaced.  Of course he’d use her own advice against her.  

“It’s not that easy.”

“I know.  But if you never tell him how you feel, you’re not giving him the chance to swoon at how amazing you are.”

He mimed falling backwards, literally head over heels.  He turned a full 360 degrees in midair before grinning back at her.

“You’re such a dork.”  She shook her head fondly.  “You’re right, though.  That’s what everyone else has told me too.  I can’t keep backing down, not if I want anything to change between us.”

Despite imagining a thousand scenarios where they were married with three kids, Marinette found herself unable to picture herself actually asking Adrien out.  It felt as far away as an alternate universe.

“I can help you out, if you want,” he said cheerily.  “Just put your communicator in your ear, and I’ll feed you all the best pickup lines in real time.”

She laughed.  “Thanks, but I think my awkward stuttering will still be better than that.”

“You’re right.  You should give yourself some credit.  You did call me a catch, after all.”  He winked.

“Chat!”  She punched his arm.  “I was just trying to cheer you up!”

“Uh-huh.  Suuure.”

He was just messing with her.  He wouldn’t be trying to help her with Adrien if he still had a crush on her, would he?  Even after all this time, it was still difficult to tell when he was actually flirting, and when he was just engaging in friendly banter.

...When she thought of it that way, it was less surprising that his ex-girlfriend had misjudged his actions too.

“What about you?”  She asked as they floated back towards earth.  “Do you have any updates on your love situation?”

“Sort of.”  He sighed.  “My girlfriend is clear about her feelings.  She’s given me too many second chances already, and my uncertainty has hurt her.  I can’t expect her to keep waiting while I try to figure out what I want.”

“That’s fair.”  Marinette nodded.  “I’m glad she can be so honest with you, even if it hurts.  She must trust you a lot.”

If only she could have that kind of trust in Adrien.  She… she could, couldn’t she?  Their friendship wouldn’t be destroyed after one tiny declaration of love.  Not after everything he’d said about her in New York.

Right?

“She’s never been afraid to speak her mind.  It’s one thing I really admire about her.”  Chat smiled wistfully.  “I hope that she finds someone who’s better to her than I was.”

“Chat…”

“No, my lady.  She deserves someone who’s as decisive as she is.  Someone who can love her the way she loved me.”

That sounded almost familiar.  Hadn’t Marinette had that same thought about Chat Noir?

“Yeah,” she murmured.  “Yeah, I guess she does.”

XXX

“What’s on the agenda today?”  Chat asked brightly when he arrived at their rooftop.  “Restoring the Arc de Triumph?  Planting more grass in the park?”

“No.”  Marinette fidgeted with her hands.  She’d rehearsed how to ask this a thousand times in the past few days, but she still felt stupid.  “I actually, er… I wanted to take you up on that offer.”

His ears perked up.  “You’re going to let me cut your hair?”

“No, not that offer.”  She smacked her forehead.  She’d forgotten he’d mentioned that when she’d complained about how her pigtails stuck out of her space helmet.  “The one you said?  About the communicators, and helping me, with um, Him…?”

Chat’s jaw dropped.  It would have made a great photo, if she’d gotten out her bugphone in time.

“You’re actually going to use my pickup lines?”

“No!  Those are still awful.”  Except the one about her being the lady of his dreams, but he didn’t need to know how soft that had made her.  “In fact, I don’t actually want us to use our communicators at all.”

He blinked.  “So, you want to take me up on my offer, but you don’t want me to do a single thing I offered.  Makes perfect sense.”

“Ugh.  Sorry, I’m so bad at this.”  She should just pretend she was explaining a plan to Alya.  Or maybe that she was coming up with a solution to her Lucky Charm.  That was never so awkward, right?  

“I want you to use this,” she clarified, pulling the toy cat out of her yo-yo.  “I always chicken out before I tell him how I feel.  I was thinking, if I felt like you were there… I might be a little braver.”

He still looked stunned, but a smile slowly crept across his face.

“So I can be your wingman?”

“...Sort of, I guess?  All you need to do is push the button when I inevitably start to panic.” 

His head tilted.  “But how will I know when you’re trying to talk to him?  You need a Plagg, too.”

“You’re one step ahead, kitty.  I was thinking we could go pick one up before patrol.  Since you’ll be keeping it, you should get to choose what kind of buzzer you want.”

He beamed at that.  “Brilliant as usual, my lady.”

Whew.  She’d worried he would think it was stupid.

“Come on.”  She unhooked her yo-yo from her waist.  “The store I bought Plagg at was set to reopen today.  If we’re quick, we can get there before they close for the night.”

He kept pace with her as they swung and leapt towards the west side of the city.  The novelty shop had been in the path of destruction, but by now most of the buildings were functional again.  

The repairs had restored Chat Noir’s good humor, too.  Either that or he’d sorted out his own romances.  Curious as she was, she found herself too nervous to ask.

I’m asking out Adrien.  It doesn’t matter if Chat Noir gets a girlfriend.  Him having a girlfriend hadn’t changed things between them before, after all.  He’d always be her partner.  Always.

She dropped down in front of the store— 

—and felt her soul leave her body.

“Nooooo,” she groaned, gaping at the brand new, shiny, automatic doors.

Chat Noir landed beside her and strapped his staff to his back.

“What’s wrong, my lady?  Are they all out of—” He blinked at the doors, too.  “Oh.”

Oh?  Was her fear of automatic doors that obvious?  Okay, fear was a strong word, but there was no way she could get into the store with her dignity intact.  She’d embarrassed herself in front of Chat plenty of times, but it was still light out, and too many civilians were on the street.

“I, just, uh—feel a draft coming out of this store! Maybe another place sells the same kind of toys?”  She grinned uncomfortably.  

It wasn’t likely.  They were marketed towards people in long-distance relationships. She’d been lucky to notice the beeper toys when she was looking for design inspirations in this out-of-the-way shop.

“Maybe.  Do you know where?  Most stores will be closing pretty soon.”

She sighed.  That had been such a flimsy excuse, she was surprised he’d even bought it.  

“No, it’s fine.  You just—might want to go in without me.”  She tapped her fingers together.  “They, um, have some toy spiders in there that are reeeeeally scary.”

“Oh, no!”  He replied too dramatically.  “I’m, uh, afraid of spiders too!”

“...Are you making fun of me?”

He grinned nervously.  “Why would you think that?”

“Because I know you’re not afraid of spiders.  You picked one up and moved it the other day because you didn’t want to kill it.”  It had been really cute, even if she’d originally screamed for him to squish it.

“Crud, I forgot about that,” he said under his breath.

They were drawing stares by now, standing in the glow of the shop’s windows without stepping inside.  One little kid waved at them, and Chat waved back.

“It doesn’t matter.”  She shook her head.  “We’re going in this shop, and we’re getting you a beeper toy, and we’re not going to be stopped by some stupid automatic doors.”

“Automatic—wait, you can’t get through automatic doors either?”  

She didn’t answer.  She was busy slamming into the glass.

“Ow,” she muttered with her nose squished against the door.  Which still.  Didn’t.  Open.

Behind her, Chat Noir started to laugh.

“Shut up,” she said, but it probably didn’t have much effect when muffled by the glass.

“Sorry, sorry!”  He rushed to help her as she peeled herself off.  “It’s just, this happens all the time to me and my good friend.  I thought I was going to be the one smushed like a bug on a windshield.”

“There’s only one bug here,” she said, brushing off the front of her suit.  “And she’s going to get through those stupid doors if it’s the last thing she does.”

“My lady—”

Frustrated, she banged her fists against the glass— 

—and shattered it into a million pieces.

Sirens blared.  She yelped, jumping back towards Chat.  

This was it.  Her life was over.  She was going to go to jail and lose her miraculous all because she’d used super-strength on a stupid door!

“Uh-oh.”  Chat gulped.

“M-miraculous ladybug!”  She yelled on reflex, though she didn’t have a Lucky Charm.  Could a Lucky Charm even fix this?  A villain hadn’t done the damage at all, unless she counted as a villain, because she’d just committed vandalism, and oh no the owner was coming towards them and— 

“Ladybug!  Chat Noir!”  The man with the white mustache looked more concerned than angry.  That was… that was good, right?  “Did an akuma come through here?  Do I need to evacuate?  There’s no one else in the store right now.  I don’t think anyone realized I’ve reopened.”

She blinked.  Would it be alright to lie, just this once?  To avoid being arrested, losing her miraculous, and letting Paris fall to Hawkmoth?

“No, no, there’s nothing to worry about,” Chat answered for her, holding up his hands.  

Meanwhile, the shopkeeper pressed a button on the wall, turning off the alarm.  If only her pounding heart could be quieted so easily.

“It was an accident,” Chat continued.  “It’s my fault.”

...Wait, what?

“I was trying to hold open the door for my lady, as all good gentlecats do.  But my powers of destruction and automatic doors don’t get along.”  He smiled ruefully, then produced a wad of euros from his pocket.  The shopkeeper looked as shocked as Marinette was. “I hope this will be enough to cover the damage.  And I’m very sorry.  You have a lovely shop.”

The shopkeeper’s glasses slid down his nose.  He pushed them back up, still not moving to accept the money.  “Chat Noir... this is far too much.”

“Consider it a tip.”  He winked.

A tip of… she couldn’t count every bill in his palm, but she swore that was at least three hundred euros. Where did he get that kind of money?  Did he have some kind of superhero donation drive she didn’t know about?

“Please, at least buy something,” the owner insisted.  “If there’s no akuma, then I assume you were coming to make a purchase?  Or was it a return?  Was the item you purchased not to your liking, Ladybug?”

“N-no, it was perfect!”  She said quickly.  Her heart still hadn’t stopped pounding.  He remembered her.  What was his name again?  She should be better at remembering citizens’ names.  “I—we—um, wanted another one, actually.”

“A matched set.”  Chat grinned.  “Would that be alright?”

“Of course.”  He looked relieved.  “Right this way.”

Chat stepped through the broken door frame—which opened just in time to trip him.  Marinette tried to catch him by his tail, but his weight dragged her down too.  They both ended up sprawled among the broken glass.

“Oww…” He groaned against the tile floor.

She picked a shard out of her cheek.  “Why does this keep happening to me?”  

The shopkeeper blinked down at them.  “On second thought, I’ll bring my options out to you.”

That was probably for the best.  While he left, she and Chat untangled their limbs and helped each other up.

“Sorry.”  He grimaced.  “I didn’t mean for my bad luck to rub off on you.”

“Bad luck?”  She tried to brush some glass out of her suit, but it just ended up sticking in her hand.  “If anyone’s unlucky, it’s me.  This kind of thing happens to me all the time.”

“My lady, you haven’t been this clumsy since the day we met.  And I know for a fact that automatic doors hate me.”

“They hate me more.  I couldn’t get through them once in New York.”

“Me either.”

She blinked up at him.  Glass shards were still scattered in his hair, reflecting the shop’s bright lights.  Yes, she could picture him being this unlucky—but could they really both be unlucky in the same exact way?

“I fell in a tangled mess with my crush, and then the doors kept smacking into us.  I’m pretty sure my ribs are still bruised from it.”  There was no way his luck was worse than that.

Pink flushed across his cheeks.  “Uh… me too?”

She snorted.  “It’s not a competition, Chat.  You don’t have to make up stuff to prove you have worse luck than me.”

“I’m not making anything up.”  He took a step forward and brushed a piece of glass from her bangs.  “Did you say that happened to you and… and your crush?”

His voice came out as a squeak.  But—if he was being serious— 

How many French kids had been in New York last week?  And more importantly, how many had been repeatedly squished between automatic doors? 

No.  There’s no way.  She was the girl who couldn’t even get through automatic doors—she was not this lucky.

“No, you couldn’t be her.”  His face fell.  “She wouldn’t even sit next to me on the plane.  There’s no way she has a crush on me.” 

Her mouth hung open.

“Adrien?”  Her shout was tinged with panic.  She was lucky that the street had cleared out, probably because the citizens thought their heroes were investigating an akuma. 

His wide eyes snapped back to hers.  

“M-Marinette?”

“Oh my gosh.  You’re—you’re really Adrien.  Adrien Agreste.”  The love of her life.  Who couldn’t even believe she liked him!

She wanted to shatter like the automatic door.  Maybe then she could avoid the horrible, soul-crushing embarrassment of admitting her feelings after committing accidental vandalism.

“And that’s… okay?”  His voice was barely a whisper.

“Okay?” Her grin must have looked manic, which probably didn’t reassure him.  She tried to force a normal expression.

...What was normal again?

He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck—only to grimace and pull out another glass shard.  

“Sorry.  I—you didn’t want to know, and—” His expression turned to horror.  “Do I have to give up my miraculous now?”  

“What?  No!”  She clasped her hands over his before he could even think of removing his ring.  “Adrien—you’re the only Chat Noir for me.  I’m thrilled it’s you.”

“Really?”  His ears perked up.  “But I thought… I’m confused.  You said you were stuck in the automatic doors with your crush… but that was…?”

She smiled as tears pricked her eyes. 

“You.”  

After all this time, it was him.  Adrien was her partner.  

And she could trust her partner.

She rested her hand on his cheek, careful not to press any pieces of glass deeper into his skin.  “It’s always been you.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, filling with water that spilled over onto his mask.

“Even when I thought I was moving on from you, I guess I was falling right back.”  He chuckled and wiped his eyes.  Then he rested his hand over hers.  His ring was a spot of cold against her fingers.

“This would only happen to us.”  She laughed too.  “And here I wanted your help to confess to, well, you.”

“That would’ve been awkward.”  He grinned.  “If we didn’t realize each others’ identities now, we would’ve then.”

She snorted.  “I wouldn’t give us that much credit.  We’ve both been stupider than that before.”

“Fair enough.  All this time, Ladybug was in love with me!”  

“You do realize that means you called yourself dense, right?”

He smacked his forehead, then winced.  “Ow.  I’d like to contest that, but I think I just proved it.”

She held back a laugh.  “As long as you don’t tease me for taking two years to confess to you, I’ll call it even.”

“Two years?”  He blinked.  “You’ve had a crush on me for that long?”

She shrugged sheepishly.  “I did say it’s always been you.”

His expression melted into something so soft, she could hardly stand it.  So it was a relief when he pulled her into an even softer—if glass-filled—hug.

“It was you, too.  Marinette you,” he murmured by her ear.  “It took me too long to realize it, but I always knew there was something special about you.”

Her heart soared at that, even higher than when they’d been dancing in the sky.  It all made sense now.  Alya had posted those photos on Instagram.  Neither of them had known Adrien had a girlfriend—Kagami, probably.  Hopefully she wouldn’t end her friendship with Marinette over this.  They were supposed to have their weekly orange juice tomorrow; Marinette would make sure to be honest with her, too.

But right now, that could wait.  All she wanted to do was feel the warmth of Adrien’s arms—Chat Noir’s arms.

“It was Chat Noir you, too,” she admitted.  “I didn’t want to let you go.  I think I took your love for granted, even when I was in love with ‘Adrien.’”

She felt his arms tighten when she said love.

“Considering you were torn between me and me, I think I can forgive that.”  He chuckled.  “Actually, I could do more than forgive you.  I could kiss you right now.”

Tingles shot through her.  Was she ready for that?  She’d hardly been able to imagine this moment—and she’d definitely never imagined it like this.  Covered in glass, Chat’s claws gently cupping her shoulderblade.

Somehow, it still blew all of her fantasies out of the water.   

“I could let you,” she softly replied.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers.  “Really?  I mean… I can still hardly believe this is happening.  I can still hardly believe you’re Marinette.”

She frowned.  “Why?  Because I’m so clumsy?”

“No, because you’re so—” he waved a hand, searching for the word.  “Perfect isn’t the right word.  You’re endearing, and smart, and brave enough to stand up to my father.  You can crush me at video games, and you can forgive me even when I don’t deserve it.”

“Adrien—”

“I left you.”  

In that moment, something shifted in her mind.  She knew he was Adrien, but finally, she could hear it in his voice.

“I left you twice.  As Adrien and as Chat Noir.  How can you still want me?”

She took his face in both hands.  Never again, not for one second, would she let this boy feel like he wasn’t wanted.

“How could I not want you, Adrien?”

He broke, the tears flowing freely.  They glimmered off the bits of glass still stuck to his face.  She wished she could clear both of those away, that she could stop him from hurting.

“See?  This is why I can hardly believe it.  I’m not supposed to be this lucky.”

“Me either.  But I’m tired of worrying about what we’re supposed to be.”  She smiled.  “I love you, kitty.  And if you plan on collecting that kiss—”

He did.  Somehow he was both clumsy and careful, probably because he was dodging the bits of glass still stuck to her face. Not that she minded.  It was him, and it was her—Adrien and Marinette, Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Though it should’ve been the last thing on her mind, she couldn't help thinking that both of Alya’s ships had sailed tonight.

She was just about to deepen this kiss when Adrien pulled back.

“What?”  she asked.  Had she been that bad of a kisser?

But no, he was looking at the shopkeeper.  Who had his arms full of animal toys, and a face red enough to blend in with her suit.

“Oh—ah—sorry to interrupt.”  He cleared his throat.  “Did you still want…?”  

Her face flushed too.  She didn’t think it was possible to be any more embarrassed after breaking the man’s doors, but she hadn’t thought it was possible to kiss Adrien without spontaneously combusting, either.

“I don’t suppose we need one now, do we?”  She glanced at Adrien sheepishly.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want one.”  He inspected the boxes in the man’s arms.

“If afraid we’re out of Ladybug toys.  They’re our hottest selling item right now.  I even looked in the back to be sure none were hiding there.”

Adrien grinned, and she remembered why she never would’ve guessed his identity.  That toothy smile was all Chat.

“That’s okay.  I know the next best thing.”

XXX

“I hope you know that I’m never going to press the button,” Marinette said when they returned to their rooftop.

“What?  And I thought you loved me.”  Adrien put a hand over his chest in dramatic offense.

“You obviously don’t love me if you thought the best toy to represent me was a cow.”

“Cows are so cute though!”  He held up the black-and-white cow beeper toy, which he’d already named Stompp.  “And she has spots, just like you!”

Cows might not be cute, but Adrien certainly was.  And he knew she couldn’t resist his pleading kitty eyes.

She sighed and pressed the button.

“Moo!” Chat mimicked the toy.  “See?  Moo and mew!  They even sound alike.  What noise would a ladybug have made, anyway?”

“It would probably just call you a dork.”  She smirked.

“Or it might tell me it loves me.”  He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Or,” she took his hand, “you could just be happy with your real girlfriend telling you she loves you.”

His smile was soft and warm, enfolding her like a blanket.

“I think I can live with that.”

[maybeimamuppet]

day 22: wearing onesies

day 22!! three more days!! eep! also OOPS i apparently forgot to make my drafts the other day. so. have this now :) sorry.

janis is 20 and cady is 19 in this one :) and yes it is kind of important

enjoy!

—————

“Why is Janis pouting today?” Damian asks in his game show host voice while Janis is slumped over the kitchen counter. She’s fully decked in her reindeer onesie, so all he can see is her antlers and little deer face as she groans miserably into the granite.

“I miss Caddy.”

“I know,” Damian replies gently. “I miss her too. But you only have a few more months until we’re home for spring break.”

Janis pokes one chocolate brown eye up to glare at him. “I don’t wanna wait. I need Caddy cuddles.”

“I’m right here.”

“It’s not the same,” Janis groans again. “You never let me be big spoon.”

“Because you’re, like, half a foot smaller than me,” Damian replies, tickling her nose with some tinsel he’s hanging up.

“Caddy’s smaller than me and she gets to be big spoon sometimes.”

“Caddy is smaller than every human in existence, if you didn’t let her be big spoon she’d never get a chance.”

“She deserves it,” Janis says, returning to her reindeer hood cave and continuing to pout at the countertop. Damian pats her back comfortingly and checks his phone for news from Cady.

-

“You order something?” Janis asks when the doorbell rings, furrowing her brow in confusion. Damian grins to himself as he finishes tacking up some more decorations.

“Yeah, could you grab it for me?”

“Fine. Lazy ass.”

“I’m decorating!”

“Whatever,” Janis calls as she unlocks their apartment door and pulls it open. Her eyes go comically wide when she sees her girlfriend standing on the other side. Cady laughs and squeezes her as Janis rockets into a hug, knocking her back against the far wall in the hallway.

“Hi, lovely,” she murmurs with a chuckle. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“What are you doing here?!” Janis demands with a sniffle, refusing to let go of Cady and, in fact, cuddling closer into her warm neck.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Cady says, taking Janis’ hood down and gently stroking through her hair. “I know how upset you were that you couldn’t come home. I got a ticket last minute to come to you. Love, are you crying?”

“No.” Janis sobs. “Yeah.”

“Aww, sweetheart,” Cady coos. “Let me in, come here.”

Janis continues weeping quietly as Cady is finally allowed entry into their apartment. Cady kicks the door shut behind her and plops her suitcase down before reaching for her girlfriend with a sad pout. Janis buries her face in her neck and clings to her tightly.

“Hey, Cads,” Damian greets as if the situation he’s walked in on in the entryway is totally normal. Cady smiles and gently pats Janis’ back.

“Hi D. Place looks nice!”

“Thanks,” Damian chuckles. “She was just bitching about how much she missed you.”

“I wasn’t bitching!” Janis insists with a sniffle. “I was whining.”

“Same difference,” Damian scoffs. “Go cuddle your girlfriend, you simp. I need to start dinner.”

“It’s impossible not to simp for Caddy!”

“Come on, Bluejay,” Cady chuckles. Janis helpfully grabs her bags and follows her to her bedroom. Once they make it, Cady is promptly tackled to the bed for more snuggles. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Janis mumbles into Cady’s chest. “Nice sweater.”

“Thanks,” Cady giggles. “Nice… reindeer.”

“You weren’t supposed to see this,” Janis mutters in embarrassment. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“It’s cute! You look comfy,” Cady coos. “My little deer. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You’ve never seen a onesie?”

“A what?”

Janis begrudgingly peels herself up and opens part of her closet, revealing a wide array of different onesies. “A onesie.”

“Mpenzi, I’m from Kenya. I slept in my flannels and cargo shorts every night,” Cady giggles. Janis shudders at the idea of sleeping in khaki. “They look cozy, though.”

“You wanna try one?”

Cady nods and goes to pick one from Janis’ impressive collection. “You have an Olaf onesie?”

“Yeah.”

“You have an Olaf onesie.”

“…Yeah.”

“You have an Olaf onesie.”

“What part of this isn’t clicking? You have an Olaf onesie in your hands.”

“I can see that,” Cady says, still blinking confusedly at the wall. “My brain just doesn’t compute that it belongs to my fishnets-and scary-boots-and-jackets-with-Frida-Kahlo-painted-on-them-wearing girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Janis says. “I don’t wear it often.”

“Apparently,” Cady chuckles. “I’ll wear this one. Olaf deserves some more love.”

Janis sits on her bed and watches eagerly as Cady strips off her layers before stepping into and zipping up her new onesie. It’s Janis’ size, and even a bit large on her, so Cady is drowning in it. The hood covers so much of her face that the carrot nose is almost in the right place, and she has rather long onesie paws hanging over her hands.

“What do you think?” Cady asks, brushing the hood up from her eyes and grinning at Janis.

“I think I need some warm hugs,” Janis replies, making grabby hands for her girlfriend. Cady shuffles over and flops on top of her before rolling over so Janis is pinning her to the bed.

“Better?”

“Much,” Janis hums contently, resting her head on Cady’s shoulder and purring quietly as Cady massages just behind her ear. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Cady whispers. “Missed this.”

“How long are you here?”

“A couple weeks. I go back on the tenth.”

Cady feels Janis’ happy grin against her neck and giggles at the little kisses she presses there. She kisses Janis’ forehead gently a couple times and squishes her even closer. They both go quiet, just breathing in the familiar scents of each other and delighting in finally being reunited for the holiday.

Cady stares at the decorations Janis has resorted to doing on her ceiling while she twists little strands of her hair together. Janis’ usually blonde ends are green this week for Christmas.

She hears a quiet whistling after about ten minutes, and peeks to see that Janis is completely asleep. She has Cady totally pinned to the bed and is snoring faintly in her ear. Cady grins and continues stroking through Janis’ hair, holding her close and occasionally kissing her forehead.

Janis’ nose scrunches up every time, but the corners of her mouth always tick up in a little grin as the kisses find their place in whatever she’s dreaming about.

She does eventually roll over and off of Cady, removing some of the insufferable heat caused by snuggling in fleecy onesies. Cady sighs in relief and attempts to get up, but Janis snatches her hand back before she can go and has her effectively stuck once more.

“You’re really inconvenient, sometimes,” she whispers lovingly, brushing some stray hairs away from Janis’ face and kissing her forehead. Janis wiggles closer until she’s completely pressed into Cady’s chest once again. Cady smiles and kisses her hair, tangling their legs together and holding her closer.

—-

Cady’s half asleep herself when Damian comes strutting in. “Dinner’s ready, bitches.”

“Shh,” Cady hushes, pointing to Janis. “She’s asleep.”

“Oh,” Damian whispers. “Oops.”

“What are you doing?”

“Blackmail material,” Damian replies, taking pictures from several angles of a remarkably soft Janis aggressively cuddling her girlfriend. And still in the reindeer onesie. “Man, did something happen between Sven and Olaf that I missed?”

“Damian Hubbard,” Cady whispers, trying not to laugh too hard. “You’re revolting. Get out of here.”

“Fine. I have food when you want it,” Damian chuckles, taking his leave.

“Thanks,” Cady calls after him quietly.

Janis snuffles and stirs slightly in her sleep, but seems to drift off again once Cady starts gently scratching her scalp.

“You have no idea how much I love you, mpendwa,” Cady whispers. “How much you mean to me. How much I love this. How much it hurts me to be away from you. You have no idea how thankful I am to have met you. But every day I thank the stars for you. Someday I’ll be able to let you know properly. But for now I’ll say it while you sleep. I love you, I love you, I love you. More than anything.”

Janis tries her best, but she can’t hold back her wide smile as her eyes flutter open. Cady stares at her as if she’s just made the worst mistake of her life. Janis takes action and rolls over to pin Cady down again, holding Cady’s hands above her head and bending down to kiss her.

“You have no idea what you mean to me,” she purrs softly. “How much I’ve missed having you in my arms, feeling your lips against mine. How much I hate our goodbyes and love our welcome home’s. No matter how many times I tell you, it won’t ever be enough to let you know how much you mean to me. How much I love you.”

Cady squeaks and flushes bright red beneath her. Janis grins and kisses her again. Cady returns it eagerly before she breaks away with a gasp. “I hate-how thin-the walls are here.”

“I know, right?” Janis chuckles. “Maybe I can get rid of Damian for a while at some point and welcome you home properly.”

Cady grins at her. “You’ve called this my home twice now.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No,” Cady replies, hooking her legs around Janis’ waist and switching their places. “You are.”

“So technically,” Janis replies, holding onto Cady’s bum. “I’m not wrong.”

Cady rolls her eyes. “Technically, no. Now shush.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Guys, what the hell is taking you so long? Your dinner is getting co-Jesus Christ okaybye.” Damian says, entering the room and immediately turning to leave.

“Every goddamn time,” Janis groans. Cady rolls off of her with a pout. “Later, baby. Let’s go eat.”

“I have other things I’d rather eat.”

Janis crashes into the wall in shock. “Caddy!”

“What? I’m just saying.”

“Later,” Janis says again, trying to get rid of her blush before Damian can mock her endlessly for it.

“Hell of a way to welcome your girlfriend, Janjan. Pin her to the bed and immediately fall asleep on top of her,” Damian teases instead, handing over a reheated portion of pizza.

“Ooh, yay,” Cady says happily. “I love your cooking.”

“You guys can’t con me into cooking all your meals.”

“I can get Janis to, it’s okay.”

“Hey, what?” Janis asks around a mouthful of delicious pizza. “No you can’t. We have a schedule.”

“I could change that if I wanted to.”

“What?” Janis insists.

“You can’t resist my puppy eyes. You know you can’t.”

“Yes I can!” Janis huffs, making her deer hood fall in her eyes. Damian and Cady both shoot her a look. “I can!”

Cady winks at Damian and pulls her best eyes at her girlfriend. Janis’ lips instantly purse in her effort to resist. Cady hasn’t even asked for anything yet. “Jayjay.”

“Hnn.”

“Jayjay, will you pleeeease give me a bite of your pizza? I want to try some of your kind.”

“They’re exactly the same!”

“Just one bite?” Cady continues pouting. She can see Janis’ brain running overdrive, as she debates with herself about whether to give in. Cady kicks it up a notch and leans in, resting her chin on Janis’ chest and blinking up at her pitifully. “I love you.”

“No, you can’t use love against me!” Janis huffs.

“There’s no rules in love, my love,” Cady hums, wrapping her whole body around Janis’ torso. “Pwease?”

Janis tenses. Cady’s really pulling out all the stops here. Resist, Jani- “Fine!”

Cady giggles victoriously and steals her bite. Janis crosses her arms and disappears into her deer costume.

“Where’d you go, lovey?”

“Janis can’t admit defeat,” Damian sighs.

“It’s not defeat!” Janis yells, muffled since she refuses to emerge from her onesie. Cady pushes her hood up and peppers kisses over her hair.

“Come on, lovely, I miss you,” she coaxes. “I haven’t seen your pretty face in a whole month and now you’re hiding from me.”

Janis begrudgingly pokes her face half-out, glaring at the other two. Cady kisses her nose and smoothes her frizzy hair back down.

“You can’t resist mine, either,” Janis pouts, finally revealing herself fully.

“I don’t pretend to be able to,” Cady giggles. “That was impressive, though, I had to do almost all of my tricks.”

“Almost?!”

“There’s things you don’t know about me.”

“Like what?” Damian asks in concern. “Have you killed someone?”

“Could be!” Cady replies brightly. “You’ll never know.”

“What the fuck?!”

—————

“Damian, you should wear onesies with us!” Cady insists after they finish the dishes from dinner. “They’re so cozy, I had no idea.”

“You’ve never worn a onesie?” Damian replies in shock. “Oh, Kenya, right.”

“Janis has a bunch! Go pick one and then we can watch movies!”

“You’re like a cat,” Janis hums lovingly. “You eat and then have the most energy in the fucking world and then pass out in my lap.”

“Yeah!” Cady replies, actually bouncing up and down slightly. Janis grins and picks her up. For some reason, being off the ground seems to calm Cady down a little bit. Damian rolls his eyes affectionately and disappears to Janis’ room to borrow one of her other onesies.

“No canoodling while I’m gone! I live here too!”

“I think we can get away with a little canoodling,” Janis hums, sitting down on the couch and holding Cady in her lap. Cady smiles widely and presses up a bit higher to kiss her at the best angle.

They’re almost able to forget Damian is still there by the time he returns. Cady startles violently when he yells, “I said no canoodling!”

“Cheese and crackers!”

“Sorry Cads.”

“It’s fine,” Cady giggles, resting a hand over her rapidly beating heart. “Now, movies. What do I get introduced to this year?”

“We could binge Hallmark movies,” Damian offers.

“Those are all the same, though,” Janis groans.

“That’s the whole point, Jan.”

“True.”

“What’s Hallmark?” Cady asks. Janis chuckles and kisses her cheek.

“You’ll just have to watch one and then you’ve seen every single Hallmark movie ever made. But we’ll show you,” she replies. Cady sits back down next to her and smiles widely as Janis crawls into her lap for a change. “I get to stay here, though.”

“I’m definitely not complaining,” Cady giggles. Damian heads to make them some popcorn, giving them another dangerous moment alone. Cady peppers little kisses all over Janis’ face. “I love you. I’m glad we get to be together for the holidays.”

“You have no idea,” Janis whispers, resting a hand on the back of Cady’s fuzzy hood and holding her close. “I love you too.”

Cady shifts to a better position to continue, carefully holding around Janis’ shoulders and legs. Unfortunately, she forgets about her carrot nose and gives Janis a solid poke in the eye.

“Fucking carrot!”

—————

hope you enjoyed!! see you tomorrow!!

[thiswasinevitableid]

17, indruck, nsfw if you want would be awesome. Your writing is incredible btw and reading (and re-reading) your fics always makes my day!

Thank you so much! And here you go, it is indeed NSFW

17. i get your name during secret santa at work and use the same wrapping paper for my gift to my friend, so…sorry about all the sex toys 

Duck adores the way work does secret santa; random assignments, followed by dropping the gift off on the 20th. Simple and to the point, and no gathering where everyone is judging everyone else’s gift choices. 

Plus, this year he got Indrid as his person to buy for. He’s head of marketing and design for the Arboretum, and Duck’s been looking for new ways to help him feel welcome. He started up in February and is a little reclusive, seeming to think his work is so different from that of the rangers, gardeners, and researchers that they won’t want to talk with him. 

Duck finds him fascinating, if a bit weird. They worked together to design new promotional art featuring native prairie plants, and Indrid soaked up everything Duck told him. And it’s remarkable to see the familiar ecosystem come to life through a new set of eyes. Light brown, curious eyes that Duck’s sensed watching him appreciatively from time to time. No harm there, Duck’s stolen more than a few peeks at Indrid when the artist is otherwise occupied.

So, yeah, he’s glad the gift gives him another way of making Indrid feel like he’s a part of the team.

When he steps through the office door, Indrid perks up, spinning in his chair. 

“Good morning Duck! You caught me just in time, I have to take Thacker his gift.”

“Ain’t that a coincidence. Here” he produces the flat, rectangular box wrapped in pine tree paper, “Santa’s makin an early delivery.”

Indrid flaps his hands with a delighted smile, so Duck sets the box down on his desk. 

“Thank you so much, Duck. I have a meeting right after seeing Thacker so I can’t open it now-”

“No big deal, man. Just wanted to get it to you in case you were runnin around all day. Merry Christmas, ‘Drid.”

That smile follows him all the way to his office, then out into the freshly snow-covered woods. Indrid always seems so happy to see him. Unlike some people.

He checks his phone. Still no texts. He left Jason’s present on his front porch, some part o him hoping that it would strike the right balance between “it’s cool if we stay friends with benefits” and “but I would really like something more serious. Really. Would it kill you to go on an actual date?”

It’s not like the other guy isn’t willing to demand lots of Duck’s time and energy. It’s just that whenever Duck needs even a smidge of the same, he’s nowhere to be found. 

As he’s eating lunch, his phone buzzes. 

J: Dropped wrapped box back at your place. Been leading up to this for awhile, but I’m gonna end things. I know a cuffing move when I see one. 

Well, that explains the lack of contact for three weeks. 

He groans, closes his thermos. Has be really been that desperate for romance that he spent all this energy on a guy who acts twenty-five rather than thirty-five? It’s not that much to ask, right? He just wants someone who thinks he’s worth their time, who likes talking with him, who wants to get to know all the messy, overgrown parts of him. 

Ding

It’s an email from Indrid, asking if Duck will stop by his office after he locks up the visitor center so Indrid can thank him for the gift.

He responds in the affirmative, soothes his bruised ego for a few more minutes, and then dives back into his reports on the health of the Lost Forest section.

By the time he locks up, the only cars in the parking lot are his truck and Indrid’s VW Van. He heads to the lower floor and follows the clicking of a keyboard to Indrid’s office. 

“Hello, Duck.” Indrid ushers him in, shutting the door behind the ranger, “I’m glad you didn’t have to rush off. Please, ah, have a seat.” He gestures to the chair across from his desk, which he then leans back against. Duck could be imagining it, but it looks as if his usually messy, dyed silver hair has been brushed down. And he’s not in the thick coat and hat he wears on his way out the door at the end of the day; he’s still in his black cardigan and light green shirt, black pants showcasing the long lines of his legs. 

“I, ah, I really like the gift, Duck. And I was, ah, was wondering if you’d like to go get dinner before we make use of it.”

“Uh, how would we both use a sweater?” Duck’s heart ping-pongs between his throat and his stomach. 

“......What sweater?” Indrid’s eyes are wide behind his red glasses. 

“Aw fuck” Duck drops his head into his hands, “knew I shoulda bought more wrappin paper.”

“To be certain I am understanding correctly, this is not what you meant to give me?” Indrid bites his lip, tilting the box so Duck can see the contents. 

“Yeah, I did not mean to give my coworker a vibrator and a fuckin paddle.” He flops his head back, covering his face with his hands. Maybe he can hide like this until Indrid leaves or the world chooses to mercifully strike him dead. 

“Oh.” Indrid puts the lid back on the box, “it was for someone else. That makes more sense.”

He sounds sad, and that’s a million times worse than if he were angry or mocking. There has to be a way for Duck to salvage this. 

“Uh, you can keep ‘em. If, uh, if you want. Person I got ‘em for don’t wanna see me anymore.”

“I don’t have much use for them on my own. Well, I suppose this could be fun” he picks up the vibrating plug, one that can sync to music, speech, or an app, “but not as fun as it would with someone else controlling it.”

“You tellin me there ain’t someone chompin at the bit to get you into bed?”

“I’m not really anyone’s type.”

“You’re mine. Fuck. I, uh, I mean, uh-”

“Duck, while you recently got dumped, I assure you, you can do better than me.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I thought about you way more in the last month than I thought about him.” 

Indrid’s eyebrows leap up his head. Then his expression does a series of acrobatics, landing on disbelief. His friend looks down at the floor, arms crossed comfortingly around his stomach.

Duck stands, the few feet between them as charged and uncertain as a crumbling cliff edge. Carefully, he sets his hands on Indrid’s shoulders. 

“‘Drid, is there somethin you been meanin to tell me?”

“I like you a lot, Duck. And I find you painfully attractive.” Indrid refuses to look up, not even when Duck rests a hand on his cheek.

“Why didn’t you say anythin sooner?”

“I didn’t think you felt the same way.” 

Duck guides his face so they’re looking at each other, takes a deep breath, and leans up to kiss him. 

A fluttery sigh as Indrid’s hands settle on Duck’s body, starting on his hips and then boldly slipping into his back pockets. He keeps the kiss slow and chaste, holds off on parting his lips or nipping at the curves of Indrid’s mouth. Duck’s never had to reassure someone with a kiss before and he’s not going to fuck it up. 

He shifts forward, encouraging Indrid’s exploration of his body, and accidentally presses the taller man into the desk, pinning him. Indrid “eeps” into the kiss, going rigid in Duck’s arms.

“Fuck, sorry” Duck tries stepping back, only for Indrid to grab his ass, keeping them chest to chest. 

“Don’t be.”

Duck considers the flush crawling up Indrid’s neck and the hopeful look hiding behind his glasses. He sets a hand on each bony hip and gives a short, sharp shove, growling a little. Indrid moans, louder this time, and yanks him into a kiss by his hair. When he lets go Duck gulps for air before biting his ear

“You like it when I’m mean, sugar?”

“Like does not even begin describing it.”

“Here I thought I was gonna have to romance you some.”

“I am in favor of romance as well.” Indrid wriggles his hips, grin wide and eager. As much as Duck wants a look at the cock currently hardening against his thigh, he has an even better idea. 

“Think I can do both. It’s real clear tonight, whole place’ll look amazing with a full moon on the snow. Howsabout you and me take a little walk?”

“That sounds-”

“With you wearin this the whole time.” He whacks the gift box towards Indrid.

“-Perfect. Give, give me one moment.” Indrid grabs the plug and one of the packets of lube Duck put in it for courtesy and dashes from the room. Duck downloads an app onto his phone, and holds Indrid’s coat open for him when he gets back. 

As they set off down one of the short loop trails, he casually asks, “you turn it on?”

“Of courseAHhnn” Indrid shudders, stumbling on his next step. 

“You know much about that model?”

“I aAAAhhsumed it’s remote controlled”

“It is” Duck pulls his phone out, shows Indrid the corresponding app, “but it syncs to music too and, uh” he smirks, leans closer to the phone, “speech.”

Indrid yelps as the toy buzzes again. Duck happens to know it has multiple speeds and a thrust function, and he wants to know just how Indird looks when those kick on at the same time. But he pauses, waiting to see if Indrid needs to stop and go back inside.

“In, in that case” he flicks a strand of hair from his face, “why don’t you tell me about the nest you’ve been watching.”

Duck takes his arm, guiding them along the path and explaining all about the Great Horned Owl nest he’s spotted, and how he’s not sure why it’s occupied right now since nesting season isn’t for months for that species. He keeps his phone in his free hand the entire time to better pick up his voice. Indrid nods, doing his best to listen, but by the time the hit the clearing in question he’s having a hard time walking. When he’s busy looking at the stars, Duck finds the button on the app to turn on the thrusting function.

“FUCK!” Indrid hunches forward, bracing on a tree trunk, “ohgoodness, that’s, that’s so good.” He’s working his hips and ass against nothing,whimpers filling the night air. 

“Yeah? You like the fact I can fuck you without eve touchin you?” 

Indrid whines, manages to turn around and lean on the trunk, right hand frantically pawing his crotch. 

“Keep your fuckin hands off you dick.”

The whine jumps several notes in the scale as Indrid slams his palms flat on the bark, face turned pleadingly to the sky and hips jerking helplessly in a futile search for friction. He looks so debauched and just a little out of place, the sweet little artist who strayed too far into the woods and is at the mercy of the big, bad, wolf. 

This big bad wolf has no interest in mercy. 

“Lookit you. Gonna make a mess of yourself just from some teasin.”

“This is haAArdly teasing, oh, ohgod.”

“I’d say it counts. I mean, I may not let you cum at all.”

“Please” The whimper gives way to a sob, Indrid thoroughly cornered against the tree as Duck lunges forward.

“You’re on my turf now, sugar, so you don’t get to make a demand. We’re gonna do this my way, and I ain’t decided if that means leavin you to walk back hard or to make you cum so many times you make a mess of those pants and gotta drive home wearin a reminder of how fuckin needy you are when it comes to my dick.”

“Yes, yesyesyes”  Indrid tries to grind forward enough to hump him. Duck drops his phone in his pocket, figuring it’ll still pick up enough, and traps his hips back. 

“Yesss, Duck, sweetheart, please, please kiss me.”

“Can’t do that and talk at the same time.” Duck rips off one glove.

“BuMPHmmmmm”  Indrid hums around the fingers in his mouth, still writhing weakly against Duck’s hold. He has to be close, and Duck is harder than diamond.

The wolf pounces. 

He spins Indrid away from the tree and brings him gracelessly to the ground, climbing atop him and working his hips hard, rutting against his trapped dick. Indrid’s feet kick in the snow and he clings to him, babbling as Duck chases his orgasm.

“So good, so good sweetheart, please, please I’m going to cum-”

“If you cum before I finish I’m fuckin leavin you here.” 

“I can’t, it’s, it’s so much, I’ll make it up to you, oh, oh Duck, AHhnnn”  Indrid tenses under him, cumming with a cry.

“Fuck it” He grunts, grinding as hard as he can even as Indrid squirms from the overstimulation beneath him. It’s not always easy for him to cum like this, but goddamnit he’s soaked his boxers and Indrid is still here, willing and submissive, taking whatever Duck gives him, letting the beast in the trees have his fill. 

He cums with a gasp, dropping forward as it races through him. Over the rush in his ears, Indrid is murmuring sweetly, telling him how wonderful it was. 

Why are his knees so fucking cold?

Oh, right, the snow.

With a groan he sits up, standing on wobbly legs and helping Indrid up. When the other man whimpers he fumbles his phone, turning the toy off.

“C’mon, let’s go back and warm up.”

Indrid grins, looping their arms together and leaning against him. It’s not just the post-orgasm haze that has him giddy; he realizes he feels like this whenever he and Indrid are together.

“‘Drid will, uh, will you come home with me?”

“I have an alternate proposition. I need to change my clothes, and need to feed the mischief at home. How about you meet me at Blue Plate in an hour? After all, I did promise you a date.”

Duck brushes snow from Indrid’s hair as the taller man embraces him. Indrid is watching him, and it’s the first time a long while that Duck’s felt fully seen. 

“You did, didn’t you.” He sighs, resting his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

“Is that a ...yes?”

He tips his head up, kissing Indrid’s cheek, “Yep. It’s a date.”

[lokislytherin]

euphoria // vampire!jungkook

pairing: vampire!jeon jeongguk x human!reader summary: you’re scared of vampires - until one saves your life one night. word count: 1988 + 1808 + 2373 + 1798 + 

chapters: prologue / chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / epilogue

Seokjin takes a deep breath.  "Y/N," he says, his voice icy cold, "just what exactly is going on?" The phone in his hands morphs into a medieval sword, the blade gleaming pink just like his phone case.  You're too busy gawking to respond.  Seokjin just performed an act of magic in front of you! Your roommate is a witch!

And then it finally sinks in - your roommate is a witch.

You've been sharing an apartment with a witch for well over a year, and you've only just found out.

Jeongguk frantically works to detach himself from you, wanting to wipe the blood on his mouth with a sleeve until he realizes his sleeves are also covered in blood.  He settles for licking most of it away, but there's still a drop of blood on his chin.  "I can explain-"

Seokjin glowers down at Jeongguk.  His glare is absolutely frigid, and if your cheeks were hot before, whatever heat there was is now gone.  "Is your name Y/N?"

"No," mumbles Jeongguk like a chastised child.

Angry Seokjin does tend to have this kind of effect on people.

"Yeah, I didn't think so either," the witch grumbles with a scowl.

He turns to you, and you wince in preparation for what's to come.  He attacks you with a barrage of questions.  "Y/N, how long have you been harboring this vampire? What made you think it was okay to associate yourself with him? Why did you let him suck your blood like that? He could've killed you, don't you realize that?" He sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose.  "See, this is exactly why I strengthened the wards.  I knew there was a bloodsucker that kept hanging around this place, but goddammit, Y/N, you were the one who kept letting him in!" He sounds frustrated, almost disappointed in you.

"He's my friend," you retort hotly, "he saved my life! Remember when I got home really late one night a month ago? That's because I almost got molested by some creepy old dude, and he helped me! He needed help just now, and what was I to do, push him away? He was dying!"

Seokjin sniffs haughtily.  "He doesn't look that dead to me.  Besides, he's a vampire.  He's already dead."

Jeongguk raises a hand.  "Technically, I'm undead? My heart doesn't beat, but I still need to eat and breathe and poop and everything," he adds in an attempt to be helpful, only to be met with a small sneer from Seokjin.  Neither of you are willing to back down.'

"You never told me you were a witch either," you say bitterly.  "You know who I had to hear that from?" You poke Jeongguk's arm.  "Him.  Do you think it's okay for you to keep your secrets from me but not for me to keep mine from you? Why do you even care how I live my life?"

Seokjin groans.  "I'm trying to keep you safe, Y/N! You're my friend, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you!"

"I'm almost eighteen, Jin! I'm old enough to fend for myself and deal with my own crap!" You're almost yelling at him, and you would've felt guilty if you weren't so angry.

Jeongguk's eyes go wide.  "Wait, Jin? Like Kim Seokjin Jin?"

doesn't look angry anymore, just plain tired.  "Am I supposed to know y-"

He squints.  "Jeon Jeongguk? Is that you?" He fumbles around for his glasses, only to realize he'd left them in his room.  

Jeongguk looks delighted.  "Yeah, that's me!" You can't help but feel a little out of place.  "You remember me?"

You shake your head.  This has been one of the most chaotic nights you have ever witnessed in your whole life, and you've had a lot of sleepovers with chaotic friends.  "What is going on?"

Jeongguk smiles shyly.  "Seokjin is a friend of mine, actually.  Or was.  I haven't seen him in person for a really long time."

Seokjin ruffles his hair playfully.  "You've grown so much, I almost didn't recognize you! I'm still taller, and you look exactly the same as you were when we were kids." He turns to you.  "I used to be neighbors with this brat," he says, "he and Tae were the most annoying squirts ever, but we moved to another district." He turns back to Jeongguk.  "If it makes you feel any better, he cried on the first night because you weren't there."

Jeongguk pouts, and your heart flutters.  "Aw, I hate it when he cries." He stands up, pouting some more when he confirms for himself that Jin is in fact taller.  He really is cute when he pouts.

“What happened to you?” Seokjin asks curiously.  “How’d you-” he waves his arms around, “-get turned?”

You turn to the young vampire, equally curious.  Every time you've brought up the subject in the past, he'd started to look shifty, evading your questions before changing the subject entirely.  You're interested to see how Seokjin fares.

Jeongguk starts to fidget, trying to use the same tactics to dodge the older man's question.  "It's kind of a long story-"

"It’s two AM," you pipe in, “you’ve actually got a few hours before daylight if that affects you. Besides, I don’t think I could sleep."

Jeongguk sighs, somehow managing to look beautiful and sad at the same time, like some kind of tragic pensive prince from a fairy-tale.  "Are you sure you want to hear?"

You nod reassuringly.  "It's okay, Jeonggukkie, you can tell me anything." You're not sure where the nickname came from, but it's cute and it fits him, so you continue.  "Besides, we had a bonding session! I cradled you in my arms!" You're not lying - Jeongguk had almost died in them too.  Well, died a little more than he already had, that is.

Jeongguk grins, the tip of his lips quirking up teasingly.  “Now, why can’t I seem to recall that? Surely I’d remember a pretty girl cradling me in her arms?”

This elicits a fierce blush from you, and you whack him in your attempt to cover it.  “Because you were unconscious, you idiot! You blacked out on me! You almost gave me a heart attack; did you know that?”

The vampire laughs, draping an arm around your shoulders.  “At least I’m your idiot.”

Seokjin doesn’t even bother to mask his discomfort, wrinkling his nose in what you can only class as mild disgust.  “That was so cheesy, JK.  Stop flirting with Y/N and explain.”

You laugh at his haughty expression.  "Maybe you're just jealous that you're almost thirty and still single." As much as you love him and support his relationships, making fun of his lack of relationships is much more fun.

"I'm being bullied," Seokjin mutters under his breath with a petulant scowl.  "Anyway, Jeongguk, please tell us your story.  We're all dying to know." Jeongguk raises an eyebrow.  "You know me, Jeongguk.  I'm not going to tell you the pun wasn't intended."

You snort, already well accustomed to your roommate’s badly timed dad jokes.  One of your friends from school also has quite the penchant for puns, and you’re not sure if facing her jokes are better or worse.  Allowing them to meet would be a disaster in the making.

"Anyway, Jeongguk, you can tell us.  If the vampire who turned you is dangerous and tries to attack you again for whatever reason, I'd protect you," you tell him earnestly.  "I don't have magic or super strength or good night vision, but I still learned to kick-box.  I punched a pervert in the face.  I'm not useless."

The vampire smirks, flexing.  You kind of wish he would strangle you with his thick, muscled thighs.  "Shouldn't I be the one protecting you? I'm the hot undead guy, you're the pretty damsel in distress, and clearly, Jin is the comic relief friend who's probably going to die first.  Besides, I rescued you from that pervert when he started chasing you." "You killed him because you were thirsty," you retort.

"What can I say?" Jeongguk has the decency to look sheepish.  "I'm not me when I'm hungry.  It's a vampire thing."

Seokjin points his phone-sword at Jeongguk threateningly.  "One more insult, brat, and you'll live the rest of your days as a disgusting undead spider instead.  I'm a witch, I'm legally allowed to do that."

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow.  "Last time I checked, transformation of objects wasn't your affinity."

Seokjin turns red, almost purple.  "I've gotten better at it, though.  I can and I will turn you into a spider that I can squish under my foot."

He turns his sword into a magic staff instead, and Jeongguk makes an "eep" sound when Jin pretends to form an incantation.  "Don't turn me into a spider," he says, "I like this human form."

"I like this form too," you say, subconsciously snuggling closer to his biceps, "I don't want you to turn into a spider."

You're a thirsty hoe, Jin mouths at you.  You can't deny it.

"I'd be the best looking spider you've ever seen," Jeongguk says seriously.  "Better than Jin."

Jin splutters, too well accustomed to being dubbed the 'handsome one' to hear Jeongguk saying "I'd be a better looking spider than you".  "Hey! JK!"

"I have arachnophobia," you deadpan.  "If you turned into a spider I'd scream and run away."

Jeongguk pouts.  "Aw."

"Anyway, story or spider, JK," says Jin menacingly.  His expression isn't very scary, but Jeongguk still gulps, well aware of the threat.  Jin will bark and bite in equal measures.  "Stop stalling."

Jeongguk scowls and makes a face.  "I'm getting to it, you impatient hag."

Jin cracks the staff down on Jeongguk's head, hard enough to hurt but not enough to injure.  "Don't call me a hag, you brat!"

Jeongguk whimpers, clutching his head and leaning towards you.  "Jin's a big meanie."

You laugh at their brotherly squabbling, petting the vampire's head absentmindedly (if you'd told your past self you'd be petting a vampire's head, your past self would've never believed it).  "We can kick him out later," you say, "but for now, let's listen to you, yeah?"

He nods.