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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 month ago

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DRABBLE: HE & YOU ON WASH DAY 🫧 (18+) (JJK) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: I came up with this little Drabble after seeing a video of a Black girl teaching her white BF how to wash, moisturize, derange & do her hair. It was soooo CUTE & stuck in the back of my head, so I decided to let my inspiration flow. Thank God too cuz i realize i haven’t written a Drabble in literally FOREVER. I’ll make an effort to put out more before 2025 comes. I hope y’all enjoy!

I also tried to incorporate different types of Black hairstyles, textures & types for each character. All comments are welcome on front (but keep it respectful). Thank you & again, enjoy! -Jazz 🥰

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GOJO

This man swears he knows what he’s doing.

You’ll admit that Gojo is good at everything: singing, dancing, gaming, cooking, fighting, yapping…especially yapping. He’s also good at being a boyfriend. He is the most attentive, affectionate, loving man you’ve ever met and you’re so grateful to have him—the handsome, sexy, popular Gojo Satoru—as your partner.

He manages to help you with everything else you don’t have enough time to get to or are having trouble with, such as cooking and cleaning. What’s the difference between that and washing your hair, he wonders? When you tell him that your hair is much different and requires a traditional regime that could last HOURS, Gojo just waves you off.

“Baby, c’mon,” he scoffs, holding you in his lap and squeezing you to him as if you’ll disappear. “Don’t you know who I am? I’m good at everything. You think I can’t help you out with your pretty hair?” He gives you a big, confident, gigawatt smile that makes you melt.

“You sure?” You ask, your arms wrapped around his neck as he places his hands on your hips. He rocks you in his arms like you’re his baby…which you are. He always shows that any chance he gets. “‘Cause it’s a job, ‘Tarou. My hair isn’t like yours.”

Gojo scoffs, running a hand through the maze of dark kinky twists that is your hair. “Obviously,” he chuckles. “And I love that. I love your hair and I wanna help you take care of it! C’mon, what’s the rocket science in washin’ hair?”

But that self-assurance and cockiness quickly fades when you show him all the products you use for your hair, explaining each one in great detail. Then you show him the proper way to wash your hair which results in him getting water all over himself and the floor. Then, once you’re done, you try to show him how to detangle, moisturize, and cornrow your hair with a comb but to also rely on your fingers to do the work.

By the time you finish, you do most of the work while Gojo sits there looking like you just tried to explain to him why the Earth is flat. Poor baby’s blue eyes are so wide that you’re afraid they’ll roll out of his skull. He is down in the dumps afterward, snuggling into your chest. “I’m sorry, babe,” he mutters into your boobs. “I fucked up. I’m no good at this shit.”

You coo to him, running a hand through his white locks. “Satoru, baby, it’s not a big deal—“

“Yes the fuck it is!” He protests, sitting up to look at you. “You’re my girlfriend! I should know how to do your hair! But don’t worry; I’m gonna learn all about this if it fuckin’ kills me.”

And he makes you hold him to that. Not the type to give up or give in, Gojo spends the next week learning everything there is to know about Black hair: your type of hair; how to take care of it; if creams or oils work best to keep it moisturized; how to cornrow for beginners, etc. You let him drag you to the hair supply store to buy products and practice on you, giggling to yourself about how cute he is trying to do all of this for you.

After two weeks, you and Gojo go for round two. This time, you let him take the reins washing your hair. He is attentive and delicate with your hair, his long fingers scrubbing and massaging the shampoo in. You find yourself sighing at the feeling, melting at his touch. “You like that, baby?” He asks among the running water.

Chuckling when you hum in agreement, he presses a kiss to the back of your neck as you stand bend over the sink. “Y’know, I could always relax you more with somethin’ else,” he whispers.

That’s when you feel his very obvious hard dick pressing against your ass. You gasp, reaching back to swat him. “Gojo!” You whine. “You freak!”

“What?” He protests, grinning. “Ya can’t blame me for gettin’ hard by this! You look hot with your natural hair, babe, and runnin’ my hands through it is even better. It’s so soft and pretty, like you!” He grinds his hips into your ass, giving you a feel of the hot bulge pressing against his sweatpants. And you know he’s free-balling, the slut. No boxers at all!

“Y’know,” he says, his voice sultry and teasing, “all I have to do is pull these little shorts down and—“

“Uh-uh!” You shout, tossing some soapy water at him. He dodges it effortlessly. “Not while you’re supposed to be helpin’ me, asshole! Now maybe if you do a good job with my hair, we can do somethin’ about your very big problem.” You bend over the sink again, giggling when you brush your ass against Gojo’s hard dick and emit a groan from him.

And ‘do a good job’ he does, surprisingly. After you wash and condition your hair with his help, Gojo sits you down between his long legs and towel dries your hair before helping you successfully moisturize and plat it in small, wet cornrows going down your scalp.

This takes about an hour and during it all, Gojo is patient and loving with your hair. He detangles each knot with a comb, delicately threads each strand of hair, and doesn’t complain about how long it takes.

And you fall more in love with him during that hour.

Once done, he sits on the edge of the bed like a patient dog waiting for its treat while you admire his work in the mirror. After a few seconds, you slowly turn to him and smile. “Not bad,” you comment. “Not bad at all.” He breaks out into a gigantic grin. “I told you!” He laughs before yanking you over.

You giggle as you fall into him, straddling his lap. “Now, what’s about you doin’ somethin’ about my ‘very big’ problem?” He whispers, grinding his hips up into yours. Sure enough, he’s still hard. Pressing a slow kiss to his lips that steals your breath, you sneak your hands down to untie his sweats. “Let me show you,” you whisper. “After all, you did just a good job for me.”

Many hours later, after making him cum his brains out down your throat and putting you into the mattress, Gojo wants to be part of your wash days ALL THE TIME now.

CHOSO

This cutie patootie wants to know everything and anything about your beautiful hair. He loves it soooo much!

He loves staring at it and watching how it glows in the sunlight. He loves how bouncy your curls are when you walk. He loves running his hands through it when you kiss (though most of the time, he’s afraid to touch it in fear of ruining it).

Any time he catches you sitting in the bathroom doing your hot oil treatment, he asks so many questions:

“Why do you need to wear that big-ass helmet?”

“If you use hair grease and hair oil, won’t that oversaturate your hair?”

“How do you do this every single day? Doesn’t that get tiring?”

“Why don’t you let me help you one day?”

You love your hair too. It took you years to grow and maintain it, so you take your long, bouncy curls very seriously. So you have your own regime, especially when drying and setting your hair once it’s clean.

When you explain all of this to Choso at the hair supply store, the man looks like you’re trying to explain another language to him. “What does ‘set’ mean?” He asks as you drag him to the hair care aisles. “What does that have to do with washing your hair?”

“No, no, no,” you hurriedly say, searching the shelves for that one scalp grease that you always use. You ran out, so that’s why you dragged Choso out of the house to go get more plus a new bonnet and a comb because your favorite one broke.

“That comes AFTER I wash my hair. ‘Setting’ means sectioning and putting my hair in curlers so they come out the way you like.”

Choso stops with his hand still in yours, standing between some shelves of creams and some shelves of shampoo. You turn to him, confused. “What? Baby, you agreed to help me! We’re losin’ daylight here!”

You motion to the outside where the sun is shining and the sky is blue. “The way I like?” Choso parrots. You blink, perplexed. “You said you set your hair so it comes out how I like,” he clarifies. “Do you not like it when your hair comes out another way?”

He cocks his head to the side, his pierced brow quirked slightly. You feel yourself grow hot with embarrassment in his black hoodie that you “borrowed” (stole, but he gave it to you anyway, loving how it looks on you instead) from him.

“Uh…w-well, no girl likes it when her hair doesn’t come out right,” you mutter. “I just like it when my hair looks pretty…y’know…sexy.”

Choso’s expression softens, making him look so much like a soft-eyed teddy bear despite his tattoos and piercings. He is aware of your slight love-hate relationship with your hair when it’s not ‘hair-ing’ right.

You love it when your curls are the right length and bounce. It makes you feel so feminine and sexy. Sexy enough to let Choso pull on them during sex and run his fingers through it during a sloppy, slow make-out session.

Not when it’s frizzy. Not when you just get it wet and it shrinks back to its natural itty-bitty kinks. Not when it’s—

“Stop it.” As if he can hear your thoughts, Choso puts his hands on your shoulders and gently coaxes you to look up at him. Into his pretty, gray eyes. “You know damn well I love your hair no matter what it looks like,” he softly says. “You should too, babydoll. Don’t sweat that shit.”

He takes your hand and puts it on his head, right between his spiked ponytails. “You think I give a fuck about what my hair looks like all the time?” He asks, smirking.

You cluck your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “Yeah,” you mutter, “but you’re a guy! And Black hair is much different than yours. A-And there’s so many different types and—Mmph!”

You moan in surprise as Choso’s lips suddenly press against yours, silencing you. His lip ring pushes against your bottom lip, cool and enticing. It grounds you.

When you pull away, he brushes your nose with his in an Eskimo kiss—one thing he only does in private because of how “cutesy” it is. “You feel better now?” He asks. You nod, winded from his kiss.

“You gonna let me buy you your shit and not have a panic attack in the middle of the store?” He asks. Once again, you nod, a smile stretching onto your lips.

“And you’re gonna remember you’re my pretty little girlfriend no matter what, right?” He whispers, sliding a hand against your ass as you both start to walk again.

You nod, wrapping your arm around his waist. “Mmm-hmm,” you shyly hum. “And you’re my hot little boyfriend.” You slide your hand down to his ass, squeezing it.

Choso blushes hot red, tsking. “I’m not little,” he grunts, making you laugh.

GETO

Admittedly, Geto has never thought too much about hair….that is until he met you.

He couldn’t get enough of your beautiful, long braids that swayed in the breeze. How they accentuated all of the shapes, lines, and features of your pretty face. How you wore it up, down, twisted…even braided! He didn’t even know you could braid braids! But when you showed up on your first date with the black coils in one big French braid, he was sold as yours and yours alone.

He didn’t know you could wash braids too without taking them out, but now he does. When he comes home from running errands (gym and picking up some lunch), he hears the shower running and you humming to Giveon, which means you're still washing your hair.

He smiles, placing the paper bag of stir fry and your favorite drink on the counter. “Baby!” he calls. “Food’s here!” He takes off his shoes and puts them at the door, just about ready to get some water after his vigorous workout when he hears something fall and your pretty voice yelp in pain.

“Ow!” you shriek. Geto quickly springs into action, running up the steps in his polo socks and gym shorts. He nearly slips across the floor and breaks his neck when he gets to the bathroom. “Baby?” he calls. “Baby, what happened? Did you fall?”

You're standing in the shower in your soaked bra and panties, sudsy, foamy shampoo running down your braids. “No, worse!” you groan, holding your left eye. “I got shampoo in my eye! God fuckin’ dammit, that burns!”

You try to grab a towel, but Geto stops you. “Uh-uh, don’t move,” he orders. “Let me do it." He helps you out of the running shower and holds your wet braids back for you. "Lean your back head.” You do so and he wets a washrag before dabbing it on your eye.

After a minute, your eye stops stinging and you're able to open it. Geto dabs away water and soap dripping down the side of your face. “Bad hair wash day, I’m assuming?”

You nod, huffing in embarrassment and frustration. “One of my braids smacked me in the face and I almost went blind. This is usually a messy job, so I do ‘em in the shower.”

Geto stares at you in confusion, puzzled by what you mean. “So you...wash your braids?” he curiously asks. “How does that work?” He looks like a puppy being taught a new trick and you find it so endearing.

“Oh, you just massage the shampoo in the scalp and down the braids,” you explain, motioning to your scalp. “It gets the gunk from hair product and dirt out. Then I put my braids down to let the water wash everything out.” You sigh, rubbing your sore forearm. “My arms are so tired though,” you groan.

You've been at this for almost an hour now since Geto left to run errands and have barely gotten through it yet. Then you still have to blowdry your braids to make sure your entire scalp is dry which makes another whole hour. Noticing the stressful look on your face, Geo decides he doesn' like i and wans o help his baby a any cos. “Lemme help you then.”

You blink a him, watching as he takes off his socks and begins washing his hands under he showerhead. “What?!” you exclaim. “Sugu, baby, no, i-it’s fine! It’s not a two-person job and you’ll get your clothes all wet and—“

“Who said anythin’ about clothes?” he cuts in. He gives you a humored smile as he begins to peel off his white tank top. “That’s a silly thought, but a cute one.” Flashing his pearly whites at you, he strips off his shirt, revealing his perfectly-defined, toned upper and lower torsos. Your eyes roam over his squeezable pecs, both nipples pierced, big, inked arms, washboard abs, and cut V-line and sides littered in tattoos. He’s truly a beautiful specimen, your boyfriend.

As he tosses his shirt to the side, you suddenly don’t want to wash your hair anymore. Instead, you’d like to wash Geto’s delicious body, see it drip with water and soap, and then do it all over again because you end up fucking each other instead. “B-but…your hair,” you weakly protest. “It’ll get all wet.”

Geto smiles, pulling a hairband out of his pocket and tying his long hair up in a bun. That only arouses you more. “Hush, my love,” he coos, pressing a finger to your lips. You resist the urge to suck on it. “Don’t worry about me—worry about these gorgeous braids.” He takes your hand and guides you into the shower. While you stand near the running water, he stands behind you, making your entire body feel hot and tingly. “Just tell me what to do.”

The hair-washing process only happens for about ten minutes. As soon as you feel Geto’s thick fingers massaging your scalp and running through your braids, gentle and careful, your pussy flips into overdrive and gushes in your panties. Soon, your undies come off, Geto’s shorts come down, and hands are roaming over body parts and skin. Lips are on lips, tongues are swirling together, his hands are on your ass, and yours are all over him.

Soon, that somehow leads to him picking you up and fucking you against the shower wall, your moans swallowed up by the water and Giveon playing on your phone. His cock drives deliciously in and out of you as his hips grind against yours, your legs and arms tightly wrapped around him. “I didn’t know this was a part of your routine, baby,” he pants in your ear. “But if it is, count me the fuck in.” His hand is in your hair, your braids wrapped around his fist. “Want me to tug ‘em harder, mama?”

“Yes!” You desperately shout. “Yes, Sugu, please! I’m so close!” You can feel your cunt spasming around him, your hand slipped between you and him to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. Geto picks up the pace, his yummy moans and grunts filling the steamy shower as he pounds your pussy against the shower wall. “Pull my hair,” he pleadingly says. “Do it hard, baby. I’m ‘bout to cum too.”

You do as he says and dig your fingers into his hair, tugging on the wet, black locks. He groans at the feeling, his eyes fluttering shut and his handsome face screwed in ecstasy. Seeing him like that makes you cum instantly, a high-pitched moan of his name leaving your lips.

His own orgasm is triggered too and quickly pulls out before cumming in unison with you all over your thighs and the shower wall. His lips swoop yours up in a hot, slow tongue-kiss that makes your intense orgasm that much more explosive as your body loses tension and you feel like mush.

Finally, Geto pulls away, his eyes hooded and a lazy smile on his face. “Oh, look,” he chuckles. He points to your wet braids and his dripping hair. “All clean.”

NANAMI

He can’t get enough of your Afro.

Seriously. He stares at it any chance he gets. On his free time, when he isn’t working or telling Gojo to leave him alone, Nanami is calculating the circumference of your perfectly-round, full Afro and how long it takes you to get it in such a perfect, round shape. How does it defy gravity the way it does? Does it ever deflate? What do you do to make it so soft? He often wonders this when you allow him to touch it. He feels so blessed that you bestow such an honor to him.

He realizes later that maintaining such a beautiful hairstyle is a lot of work. One day, on a boring Sunday that is meant as your “self-care” day, he watches you as you sit near the kitchen sink in a chair, your thick hair sectioned into four parts with scrunchies. He’d laugh at such the cute yet silly look you’ve got going on if you didn’t look so sad and defeated doing it. You’ve only gotten through one part, washing it by hand with shampoo.

Wanting to make things easier for his love, Nanami moves behind you and wraps his arms around you from behind. “You look so tired, my love,” he sighs. “Why don’t you let me help you?” You look up at him, confused. Nanami has watched you wash your hair a couple of times to know what you do and what you use.

He first coaxes you to stand up and turns the chair around so you’re facing away from the sink. After filling the sink up with warm water, he rolls his sleeves up to his forearms, much to your liking, and lathers his hands up in your favorite lavender-mint-rosemary shampoo. He takes one part of hair out of your scrunchie and proceeds to scrub it, lathering it in the soap. He does the same to the others, massaging your scalp in the process.

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his skillful and careful hands in your hair, your body relaxing in your chair. “Oh,” you moan. You haven’t had anyone wash your hair for you since your mother when you were young. And to have your partner, who isn’t Black, do such a good and careful job with your hair is such a sweet gesture of your kind of love language.

“That feels nice?” He asks, happy to hear the sound. You press your lips into a thin line, humiliated by the sound slipping out of your mouth. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he chuckles. “I want you to relax. Wash days should be relaxing, not…” He pauses, searching for the right word.

“Fuckin’ stressful?” You offer, sighing as the warm water cascades over your scalp. “Yeah, but you’re not the only carryin’ around a big ass ball of hair on your head.” Nanami laughs, pressing. Kiss to your forehead. “A beautiful ball of hair, actually.” He works the water through your hair from root to tip, taking gentle care of each strand of your hair. You melt into his touch, falling in love with him deeper and deeper.

Once he finishes washing your hair, he empties the sink of all of the water and tells you to lean back so your hair can drip into the sink. “This actually kinda feels like a spa,” you giggle. Maybe you can give me a massage after this.” Nanami chuckles, flinging the water and suds off of his hands before chastely kissing you on the lips. “Let me get the towel.”

You keep your eyes closed as he leaves and quickly returns with a towel. First, he lathers your hair up in conditioner, gently massaging your scalp with the thick, creamy, floral-scented substance. Then, suddenly, you feel something cold over your eyes and hear the sound of relaxing flute music playing from somewhere. “What are you doin’, sir?” You giggle.

You feel Nanami’s lips ghost over your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Shh, no talking at the spa” he whispers. His hands are firm yet gentle as they press into your temples while your hair drips into the sink. “Can I get you a drink, miss? Perhaps you’d want massage here?” He begins to trail his fingers down your neck, each place his fingers touch leaving a trail of fire. “Or maybe…here?”

He trails down to your shoulders, giving you a firm rub. As he does, your nipples harden beneath your sports bra and your sweats suddenly feel entirely too tight. “You’re getting warmer,” you purr. A soft, seductive hum comes from Nanami’s throat that drives you insane as his hands trail down to your chest.

“You mean…here?” He gently cascades his hands over your breasts, brushing against your hard nipples beneath the thin material of your sports bra.

His hands then go back up to your shoulders, teasing you. You whimper, desperate for attention. “That’s not fair,” you whine. “You’ve got me all warm now.” Your boyfriend chuckles, his fingers kneading your shoulder muscles. “I thought that was the point.” He suddenly pauses. “Or…do you mean…”

You take the cold compress (which you find is an eye mask) off of your eyes to look up at your man and slowly move your hand to cup his cock. To your joy, you find that he is semi-hard. Nanami tuts but keeps your hand on his dick. “Miss, this is very improper for a spy,” he says, mock-offended. He leans down toward you, his minty breath fanning across your face. “But I suppose I could make an exception for you.”

He leans in closer, closer, and you think he’s going to kiss you. You lean up, desperate for his lips on yours. “After I condition, dry, moisturize, and grease your hair,” he adds. He turns the water on again and puts the eye mask back on your eyes. “What?!” You squeak. “Kento, nooo, pleeeease!” Your pussy throbs in desperate, insisting that he touches you right here, right now.

Nanami presses a finger to your lips, silencing you. “No whining,” he says. “Besides, all good things come to those who wait, my love.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before you feel the warm water on your hair rinsing out the conditioner. “Now enjoy your spa session.”

You do. You enjoy all of the work Nanami does on your hair, including what you instruct him to do. But truth be told, you enjoy the work he does on your body two hours later in the comfort of your bedroom.

With your hair safely wrapped up in a towel and bonnet for extra protection, your leg is tossed over Nanami’s broad shoulder as his hips piston into yours, his cock stroking your insides and his fingers teasing your clit. “Told you good things come to those who wait,” he grunts. “Are you gonna cum for me now?”

You vigorously shake your head, staring up with heart eyes at the handsome blonde above you. “N-No!” You whimper. “Not until you say, Daddy! I promise!”

Nanami smiles and presses a kiss to your ankle that nearly has you combusting all over the sheets. “That’s my good, pretty girl.” Your boyfriend has now become a new and important addition to your wash days.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #my drabbles #black coded reader #jjk smut #black hair #wash day #ambw #nanami x black!reader #satoru gojo x black!reader #suguru geto x black!reader #choso x black!reader #black readers

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13as07 · 8 months ago

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Elegant #1

(Shino Aburame)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to JUHiHUJi]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 3,502

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

It's a western theme wedding style cause I was lazy and didn't want to do research

Alcohol Use

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I let out another strained breath, glancing over my wedding dress in the body mirror again. What if Shino doesn't like the style? What if he's getting cold feet? What if he leaves me alone at the altar? What if -

"Wow," a voice says softly, drawing out the word. "You're so... beautiful." My sights jump up, glancing in the mirror to figure out who's behind me. Naruto's frame fills the mirror as he walks closer, settling behind me as his eyes jump over my dress. He's smiling ear to ear, with stars hanging in his eyes as he looks at me. "You're the second prettiest bride I've ever seen."

"Second?" I ask, smiling back at him.

"Ya, sorry but you can't beat out how pretty Hinata was at our wedding. She'll always hold that first place price."

I laugh at the love-struck newlywed. Hinata and Naruto got married two months ago, and I swear he still looks at her the way he did at their ceremony.

"Now, I know Sakura will drag me out by my ear if she catches me in here, the whole bad energy from seeing you - "

"That's only for the groom, Naruto. Groom's men aren't included in that," I correct, shifting around so we can face each other. My squadmate looks pretty nice when he gets dressed up, even if his hair is still messy and pointed every which way.

Naruto's cheeks dusty a slight pink as he rubs the back of his head. "Oh, right. Anyway, I remember the whole 'new, old, borrowed, blue' thing from my wedding. I don't know if you're doing that like Hinata did but I did bring you something blue just in case."

"I wasn't planning on it but I appreciate the thought, Naruto," I tell him, leaning forward to wrap my arms around him.

He wraps his arms around me too, being careful not to mess up my perfectly constructed look for my special day. "Anyway, you want to see my gift?"

"Yes, I do."

"Just so you know, this is fully from me. I did it - well Hinata stitched it - but it was fully my idea, all of it," Naruto rambles, digging through his pockets in search of my gift.

He tugs out a square cloth, the main color being a rich blue with the edges being his signature obnoxious orange color. Naruto holds it in front of me, letting the cloth tumble undone to its full size. It's no bigger than a napkin. In careful stitches is the quote 'Trust is knowing that when a squad mate pushes you, they're doing it because they care'.

"Naruto," I mumble, reaching forward to hold the ends of the cloth.

"Pretty nifty, huh? Hinata had a section of Neji's robe turned into a handkerchief, so I asked her to do the same with my old jacket. I figured you could pin it under your dress. If not that's cool too. Oh! And don't worry, Hinata cleaned the material like a bazillion times."

"Naruto," I call again, tears in my eyes as I lunge forward, wrapping my arms around his neck again. "You dumb gushy fox," I say with a smile and tears of appreciation.

"Do you not like it? Oh! Please don't cry, you're going to ruin your makeup," he rushes out, carefully slipping at the water that threatens to ruin the makeup I spent an hour on.

"I love it, Naruto," I tell him, smiling at him to send the point home. "You big goof. Would you pin it to my dress?" I ask, shifting my skirt around to figure out where I want it pinned.

"Of course! Let me go find a pin."

————————————

"Just some final touches," Sakura mumbles, running the makeup brush over my cheeks again. "Oh, and a few puffs of perfume," she says, jumping to her feet and rummaging around the table covered in different products.

"I can't wear perfume, you know that. It messes with Shino's kikaichus."

"So, you know how Shino has been queasy off and on the last couple of months?" She mumbles, now digging through her bag.

"Sakura," I utter, my tone warning because of the way our conversation is heading.

"Well, it's because Hinata and I have been testing different perfumes," She finishes, standing up with a small box in her hands.

"Sakura!"

"Oh calm down, it was only a handful of times and only a squirt or two every time. No Shinos and no kikaichus were harmed. Besides, it’s your wedding day. You should be wearing a new perfume to celebrate. It just so happens to be the only perfume that doesn't annoy or make your husband's parasites sick. Now come here and let me spray you down."

I roll my eyes at her but do get up from my spot. I twirl in a slow circle, letting Sakura coat me in the flower-scented perfume. "See? So much better, plus you can wear perfume more often since it doesn't mess with Shino."

"I guess so," I mutter, shaking my head at her. I swear Sakura never uses her brain outside of missions.

"Alright, I'll leave your fancy new scent here on the table," She says, making a show of putting it back in the box and leaving the box on the table. "We need to get going for your first look and such." Shino isn't much of an emotional man and is rarely emotional around other people, so we decided a private first look would be best.

She leads the way, my veil in her hold, held above her head so it doesn't drag on the ground as we head outside. "Wait here," she mutters after the short walk, stopping long enough to situate the clips of my veil into my hair.

Sakura slips away, leaving me to admire the cherry blossoms as she goes looking for my husband. I do just that, walking along the small path and toying with the heavy branches being weighed down by the weight of their blooms.

Enjoying the scenery helps with some of the anxiety surrounding today. I'm more than thrilled to spend the rest of my life with Shino, but it's still nerve-racking to think about all the things that could go wrong today, let alone the future.

"You don't always have to be such a lug!" Sakura's voice rings out after a few minutes, tugging my focus in the direction we came from earlier.

My best friend is dragging my very soon-to-be husband down the short path, a blindfold wrapped around his eyes to ensure he's not cheating. Shino looks nice, dressed fancy for once and his hair slicked back instead of loose and bushy like usual. "I do not see the point in doing this. I will see her when she walks down the aisle," he grumbles, slowly trudging after Sakura as she pulls him my way.

"I don't want you loosening your macho-ness because you burst into tears in front of everyone," I tease, causing his head to snap in the direction of my voice.

A group of his kikaichus slips out, eagerly flapping their way toward me. Some stay buzzing around me, with a few others clinging to different parts of my clothing. This has been a common thing during our relationship, Shino's bugs ditching him to investigate me or chew at a bit of my chakra. I freaked out the first time it happened but he insists they mean no harm and it helps him feel close to me. Since then, it's come to be something that calms me down, which I need with how loud my heartbeat seems to be.

"I would not and will not cry," he mumbles, stopping in the spot Sakura leaves him in.

"Lug," she murmurs before turning toward me. "I'm going to go make sure everything is settled. Once you two are done, send Shino in and come wait in the corridor, alright?"

"Alright, I'll see you in a few minutes."

With that, Sakura turns on her heels to head towards the waiting guests, leaving the two of us alone for the first time today. "You don't think you're going to cry when you see me?" I ask, reaching forward to toy with his sunglasses that Sakura slithered the blindfold under.

"No, I do not," he whispers, his hands sliding up to wrap around my arms, causing more of his kikaichus to spill out, coating both of our arms now.

I slowly slide my touch backward, taking my time to rest his glasses on his head before I tug at the knot keeping the cloth in place around his eyes. Once the cloth is loose, I take a step back, letting the material dangle from my fingertips.

Shino's eyes are squinted because of the setting sun. I knew they would be, but I want to see his whole reaction especially since this is something that won't happen again. His sight crawls around my body, falling down my dress like a waterfall before climbing back up my frame like a mountain. "Perhaps," he starts, voice cracking as he repeatedly blinks. "Perhaps, I was wrong."

Once the words are out, he breaks, tears rolling down his cheeks, chasing away the kikaichus that have been clinging to his face. Shino moves forward, enveloping me in his arms so he can hold me. "You look elegant, my Ladybug," he whispers into my hair, his little friends following their leader and knotting themselves in my locks.

When Shino pulls back, his focus shifts from me to helping his beetles untangle their legs, being careful not to mess up my hair and not to hurt his bugs. He spends the whole time trying to blink away the fresh tears forming in his eyes; he fails, forming water lines down his cheeks.

"Oh, Shino," I coo when he pulls the rest of the way apart from me. I cup his face, using my thumbs to brush away his tears. "You look very elegant too."

"Not as elegant as you, my dear," he mutters, leaning down to brush a kiss against my lips.

————————————

I shift my dress again, making sure it's laid perfectly as I wait for Kakashi to join me. There's about ten minutes until I'm expected to walk down the aisle with my Sensei giving me away to my husband, to my Shino. My nerves have evened out since our time together under the cherry blossoms, leaving me filled with nothing but joy.

"There's my gorgeous daughter-in-law," Shibi's soft voice calls from behind me.

I turn a bit, making sure not to mess up my carefully laid-out dress and my thin veil settled on top of it. I decided on a royal-length veil, more so because that's what Shino wanted than me, but it is his wedding as well. If he wants me to wear a long veil that trails behind me, I don't mind.

"You look lovely," Shibi compliments again, making his way forward. He stops in front of me, careful hands cupping my cheeks. He tilts my head down, brushing a gentle kiss to my hairline. "You are beautiful. The most beautiful bride my son could ask for."

"Thank you," I mutter, tilting my head back up so I can look at my father-in-law. A soft smile is on his face as he looks down at me. This is one of the few times I've seen Shibi truly content, which only solidifies my decision to marry his son. Shibi is the smartest man I know, and if he agrees with my decision it must be the right one.

"I have a gift for you, a temporary one," he mutters, pulling away from me. "Since Shino and you decided to have a night wedding, I figured a little extra glow would be nice," Shibi tells me, throwing up a few hand signals.

Soft flapping fills the space, a small squirm of bugs following the command they were given. "What are you doing?" I ask, tilting my head backward, watching the bugs settle in a neat line along the hem of my veil.

"Watch," he orders, shifting his hand placement to send out another command.

The bugs shift their wings, a soft glow coming from them, decorating my veil with the soft yellow coloring. "Shibi!" I call in joy, lunging forward to catch him in a hug. "It's beautiful! Thank you."

"You're welcome," he utters, unclinging my arms from around him. Shibi isn't much of a touchy person, a trait his son inherited too. "After the ceremony, I'll need them back, of course."

"Of course," I echo, sending him another smile.

He nods his head, letting his hands fall back down to his sides. "I should get seated before the ceremony begins. I look forward to seeing you walk down the aisle," Shibi mutters, nodding his head once more before he slips around the corner, heading into the crowd that's eagerly waiting for me to enter.

I adjust my dress again, carefully toying with my veil so I don't hurt or knock off any of the lightening bugs clinging to it. I have a few moments of silence, giving my anxiety the chance to crawl into my rib cage again. After today, Shino and me will be bound together forever, until the end of our time.

"There you are," my Sensei calls, pulling me out of my head. "I didn't know you were done getting ready yet." He mutters, adjusting the pin-comb that's holding my veil in place. "You look like an angel."

"You don't look too bad yourself," I tease, glancing over Kakashi's put-together look. It's weird seeing my Sensei out of his usual outfit.

He rolls his eyes, letting out a disapproving hum. Despite the small banter, Kakashi still leans forward, resting the side of his head against mine with his arms loosely wrapped around me. "The lightning bugs are a nice touch," he whispers, squeezing me before he tugs himself away.

"They're a temporary gift from Shibi."

"Well, I have a permanent gift for you. Just don't tell the others, they might get jealous."

"Ya?" I ask, watching Sensei dig through his pockets, the familiar sound of our training bells filling the air when he tugs them out of his pocket.

Kakashi hums again, giving me a rare masked and closed-eyed smile. "Naruto gave you his gift already, yes?" He asks, clinking the bells so they'll ring again.

"Yes, he did," I answer, lifting a layer of my dress to show off the handkerchief Naruto pinned to my dress.

He nods again, bending down so he can kneel on the ground. Kakashi works carefully, unlike my clumsy squad mate. Sensei moves slowly, unpinning the handkerchief and laying it on his knee so he can wrap his bells around the pin before pinning both items under my dress again. "There, now you'll have all three of us attached to you during the night."

"When did you get all gushy?" I tease, shaking my leg a bit. You can't hear the bells around the fabric but I can feel their imprint against me.

"When Naruto got married, and again now. I'm sure it'll happen again when Sakura and Sasuke get married too," Kakashi answers, straightening up before taking his spot next to me. "Are you ready to do this?" He asks, prompting his arm out toward me.

"As ready as ever," I answer, clinging to the bend of his elbow.

"That's my girl," he mutters, poking his head around the corner to send Sakura the signal that we're ready.

————————————

Shino's hands cling to me for dear life, his social anxiety at an all-time high as he spins us in slow, small circles. His left-hand grips mine, his ring digging into my fingers, threatening to leave an imprint. His right-hand rests on my waist, clinging to the material of my dress. "I despise dancing," he mutters, focus flickering around the millions of eyes watching us have our first dance.

"I know."

"Everyone is watching us."

"I know."

"You are my wife now."

"You are my husband now," I echo, shifting forward, I loop my arms around his neck, laying his head on my shoulder. Shino gratefully takes the change, his arms tight around my waist and his nose buried into my neck.

We sway, still moving in slow circles around the dance floor. "I will not be dancing again tonight," he whispers into my neck, the feeling of his kikaichus exploring the new position, little legs tugging at the material of my dress.

"I know, I appreciate you doing this though."

"Of course, Ladybug."

Shino reluctantly pulls away from me as the song comes to an end, fresh tears raining on his face. "What's wrong?" I ask, hands jumping up to wipe away his tears before anyone else notices.

"Nothing, my dear," he answers, fingers wrapping around mine to pull them away from his face. "You... are perfect," he mutters, glancing around before quickly pressing a kiss to my fingertips. "Can we go sit now?"

"Yes we can," I murmur, smiling from ear to ear as my husband tugs me off the dance floor.

Cheers from the guests fill the room, a few of them jumping up from their spots to take up the dance floor as the next song starts. Kiba and Naruto are beaming from the head table, as are my bridesmaids; Sakura and Hinata. "Our baby is all grown up!" Kiba cheers, Hinata giggling and nodding in agreement.

"Be quiet," Shino mumbles, helping me into my chair before he sits down alongside me. Once we're situated, his hand messes with my dress, ruffling my layers in search of a small amount of skin on skin. "What's that?" He asks as his fingertips slide over the pinned presents from my squad mates, head tilting down to glance at the items.

"Bells from my Sensei and a handkerchief from Naruto," I answer, helping him move my dress out of the way.

He hums softly, fingertips digging into my knee as he clings to it. His thumb slides over my knee on repeat, a kikaichu or two crawling over his fingers, occasionally dipping down and crossing my knee. "You are perfect," he repeats, sending me a rare smile before turning to hell at Kiba again.

I smile to myself, soaking in the repeated compliment. "Well, Mrs. Aburame," Sakura teases, a huge smile on her face as well. "What does it feel like being officially married now?"

"Wonderful."

————————————

Sakura and I belt out jumbled lyrics of the song playing, the liquor in our system commanding our dancing with both of our wet blankets of partners watching. Sasuke and Shino are sat near each other, both men's full attention on us as we dance. "What do you think they're thinking right now?" She asks, her arms dangling over my shoulders as we move in beat with each other.

"Well, knowing Sasuke he's probably talking himself out of killing me and Shino might have one or two more songs in him before he gets clingy again."

Sakura lets out a loud cackle, the alcohol chipping away the bubbly cute persona she tries to maintain. Her laughter only increased when Shino starts heading our way. "You're wrong about Sasuke but it seems you were right about Shino."

"Right about what?" My husband asks, impatience in his voice as he stands next to us, both of us still swaying to the music.

"About you wanting my attention," I answer, pulling away from my friend to wrap Shino up in my arms.

"That is not what I want," he mutters, staying still as I squeeze him in my hold. "I wish for us to go home. I would like some alone time with my wife," Shino airs out the last word like he can't comprehend being able to use it.

"What kind of alone time?" I ask, sliding my hands up to toy with the ends of his hair, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

"Just... alone time," he whispers, a hint of pink dust on his cheeks. "Should I have it announced that the ceremony is over?"

"Have them announce the party is over in thirty minutes," I mutter back, letting my arms fall to his shoulders, leaning myself against my husband. I tip my head up, lips brushing against his ear as I speak. "If you can't wait thirty minutes I'd be more than happy to give you a little... support." I let a hum out, flickering my eyes down.

Shino's face is full red now, mouth gapping a bit. "That is not... we cannot... Ladybug," he stutters, as flustered with my straightforwardness as ever. "I am... that is something I have been excited about today, but that... that is an at-home activity."

"I know, I'm just teasing."

He lets out a sigh of relief, gently pulling me off of him. "Your mind is lacking the elegance the rest of you possess."

"I know."

———————————————————————

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #shino oneshot #shino x reader #shino aburame oneshot #shino aburame x reader #shino aburame

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

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i know now it’ll pass - ch. 5

I think these last two chapters are my favorite🥲 Lmk with you all think of the series bc I crave validation!!! No such thing as too many comments🥺🥺

still miss you

It’s the worst. You’re working in Manchester of all places, and you really wish that you were somewhere else. But they paid the most and offered housing and were able to hire you within two and a half weeks of your breakup. Higgins wrote a glowing letter of recommendation, and just like that, you were gone.

You’re going to miss your flat, you realize. You don’t even know who bought it. Doesn’t matter. They were willing to pay twice what it was worth as long as they were the offer you accepted.

It’s good that Jamie won’t see you around. Won’t have any lingering reminders. It’s good that you’re the one who ended things, because he won’t be able to blame himself for it. (He probably still will, you think, but you put that thought in a tiny box and put it on a shelf far away.)

Jamie doesn’t see you, but you see him. You see him in photos on the wall and hear him in the local voices and wish you could have just accepted his love for a little while longer.

You watch every single one of his games and cheer when he makes a goal. Or a pass. Or anything, really. He’s started running like Roy Kent did at Chelsea, like he’s angry at the grass. At least his anger is channeled into something productive.

Your new flat faces the sun, and you’re on the steps all the time. It’s not standard housing, it’s a real actual flat that Man City bought for you. It’s not big but it’s clean and yours and has a real, actual garden in the back. You think that you can manage this until you meet your neighbors and realize you’re really and truly fucked and the universe hates you.

You met the husband, Simon, on one of your sleepless nights. It was still relatively early, just 1:30, but you could tell that you weren’t going to get much sleep. Dr. Sharon transferred you to someone in Manchester, but now you were awake for different reasons. Jamie’s face kept haunting you so you kept your eyes wide open. Some mornings you’d wake up under the weighted blanket and think that it was him, in your groggy haze. Then you’d blink a couple times and remember that you’d broken up.

So you don’t sleep much. And now you’re on the porch with a cup of the tea Jamie’s mum recommended so long ago, the strong smell steaming into the air. As you sit down on your chair (you have a chair now) you hear a soft voice say, “Lovely night, isn’t it?” You nod and look over to see your neighbor sitting on his chair as well on the lawn.

“Sometimes I like to come out here and look at the stars,” he continues. “Can’t always see very many of them, but the fresh air is nice. I’m Simon, by the way.”

You nod again, give him your name, and sip your tea.

“Is that Sleep Plus by Twinings?” he asks. “I only ask because my wife swears by it. Has a cuppa every single night, so I’m well-acquainted with the smell.”

You smile. “Yeah, it is. A friend gave it to me. Said his mum loved it too. I have trouble sleeping, so…”

Simon nods. “Georgie, that’s my wife, used to have the same problem. Too many things on her mind, she said. But she’s been alright ever since we’ve been married. She says that it wasn’t really a chemical problem in her brain, but more the fact that she was always worried. Took me years to show her I wasn’t someone she needed to be worried around. But, I proved myself and here we are.” He chuckles fondly. “She’s upstairs snoring loud as can be.”

You sit in silence a while longer before Simon gets up and says, “Lovely to meet you. I’ll have Georgie invite you ‘round for tea sometime.”

Tea with your neighbors sounds wonderful until you walk into their flat and see pictures of Georgie’s son on the walls and on tables and on the fridge and in basically every possible space she can find. Simon mentions how he researched creative things to do with photographs because it “helps Georgie when she misses him,” and you know for an absolute fact that the universe has a personal hatred for you.

It has to, because why else would you have unwittingly gotten a flat right next to Jamie’s parents?

You force yourself to behave as normally as possible and thank them for a lovely meal. Georgie grabs your arm on the way out and says you ought to come over again some time. She hugs you and tells you she didn’t have a sparkle in her eyes at your age, either. She knows what it’s like and maybe you can have tea together tomorrow night, just the two of you. Talk about it and maybe you don’t have to struggle as much as she did.

You don’t smile at her, but she doesn’t mind. Georgie reaches out a hand to wipe away a tear and says, “Oh love. It’ll be alright. You’re not alone all the way out here. I miss my son something terrible and I can see you’re missing someone too. You’ve already made me feel better and I hope I can help you the way you’ve helped me. Good to have someone young around here.”

She’s smiling, and you realize she and Jamie have the same soft eyes.

Georgie hugs you tight again before you can bolt out the door. “You’re not alone, sweetheart,” she whispers. “You’ll be alright.”

—

Simon and Georgie are a godsend. Sure, you have to suffer their son staring down at you from his various portraits in the house, but you can talk to them. They’re like parents with the way Georgie hugs you and Simon is always bringing over excess baked goods. They’re always available to talk and listen, to laugh and sometimes, to cry.

Georgie tells you about her ex-husband one nights and it’s enough to make you sob. You tell her about your ex-boyfriend (the bad one) through gasps while she rubs your back and murmurs, “I’m right here, love.”

“How were you able to be with Simon?” you ask once you’ve calmed down. “I just can’t understand that. I’ve tried, I really have, but I was just waiting for him to get tired of me. And I’m not positive he ever would have.”

Georgie thinks for a moment. “I think I finally realized that James was not the standard for all men. He and Simon were very different, and Simon always showed me he respected me as a person. It took years of that, but here we are.” She laughs. “He’s a very patient man. Not many would put up with me and my Jamie.”

Jamie was patient. And funny. And the exact opposite of your ex. He’s confident with a touch of arrogance, but it’s the kind of confidence that’s contagious as opposed to oppressive. He’s sweet and thoughtful, and does things without expecting something in return. He likes to make you smile just for the sake of it, and you like to do the same.

You’re shaken from your reverie by Georgie saying, “That reminds me, Jamie’s coming into town this weekend. You should come over to meet him.”

She and Simon share a not-so-subtle glance that means you should date our son and become our actual daughter-in-law because you’re basically already ours, and that’s when you decide you’re going to be horribly ill.

“I’d love to,” you say out loud. “I’ll check my calendar.”

Table of Contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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chronophobique · 1 year ago

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Prompt: Is that blood on your shirt?

— 793 words

When she starts and her cup of tea slips between her fingers, Hermione waits for an impact that never comes.

“I didn’t know a simple flu could make you this clumsy,” her surprise visitor says, wand in hand, before levitating the cup he’s stopped mid-air to her kitchen counter.

“Malfoy,” she exhales, relieved in spite of herself to find a familiar face in her living room. “What are you doing here?”

And what are you looking at? She thinks irritatingly when she catches his judging eyes sweeping her body up and down as if it’s his first time seeing a nightshirt and a pair of comfortable slippers.

“I was in the area,” he replies, averting his gaze to analyse her flat like the snoop she now knows him to be.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she watches him scrutinising the furniture, her choice of decoration, her photos. “So you thought it would be a good idea to pay a visit to your sick coworker? That’s not very perspicacious of you, is it?”

He who spends most of his time at the Ministry trying to outsmart her instead of focusing on his own tasks.

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure some would call it a thoughtful gesture.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, then asks again, “Why are you here?”

“Are you expecting someone?”

Confused, she waits for him to elaborate. When he doesn’t, she follows his gaze to her bare legs. “It’s pyjamas,” she grits, suddenly very aware of her attire and general appearance.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“At least I’m wearing clean clothes. I can’t say the same about you. What’s that, on your shirt? Blood?”

Taken aback, he stops his pacing to look down at himself. After barely a second, he shakes his head. “Coulis.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He walks to her then.

“What’s this?” she asks when he hands her a verrine.

“Ever more questions,” he mutters. “What does it look like?”

“Well, some kind of yoghurt, I suppose.”

“Some kind of—” he repeats as if he’s never heard anything more offending. “This, Granger, is a panna cotta.”

Her favourite dessert.

“And…” she trails off, observing him carefully. “You bought it for me?”

“I made it,” he corrects at the same time he practically shoves it in her hand.

“For me.”

Although the rational part of her mind wants to blame it on the fever or the lighting, Hermione can swear his cheeks turn a beautiful pink.

“Actually, it’s for the monstrous ball of fur currrently hissing and spitting at me,” he replies sarcastically as he eyes Crookshanks with both disgust and annoyance. “What do you think?”

Too tired to match his attitude, she gives him the fakest smile she can muster, making sure he knows it’s anything but sincere. “Thank you. I’ll get it tested for poison.”

That makes him grin. “I expected no less from you.”

With that, he turns on his heels and heads for the fireplace. “Oh, and Granger,” he says as he looks at her over his shoulder. “You look positively dreadful. Did I already tell you that?”

“Git!” she exclaims as she throws the verrine at him a second too late, disappointed to see the glass shatter against the brick wall instead of his oh so perfect suit.

At some point during her day, her medication is so strong that Draco visiting her to give her her favourite dessert is starting to feel like a product of her imagination.

At least until the weekly phone call with her mother.

“How was the panna cotta? Not too liquid, I hope. You know how I am, I always have the recipe in mind, but my quantities are always approximate.”

“Wait, wait, wait, Mum. What are you talking about?”

“Is there a problem with the reception? I was talking about the panna cotta,” she screams directly into the receiver.

Hermione winces. “No, I heard you. I meant—how did you know about it? Who told you?”

“Well, your boyfriend, of course. You haven’t eaten it yet?”

At her mother’s words, the witch nearly chokes on the bread she’s nibbling. “My boyfriend?”

“Oh, what a funny man you found, Hermione,” she giggles. “It was almost as if he’d never used a telephone before.”

A nervous laugh escapes her. It can’t be.

“Are you telling me that Malfoy—I mean, Draco, called you?”

“He didn’t tell you? Oh, he sounded worried. At first I thought something had happened to you. But no, it turns out your considerate boyfriend simply wanted to surprise you with your favourite dessert, hoping it would brighten your day a little. Did it work? Is there any chance that it was a subtle way to propo—”

Hermione hangs up before her mother can finish her sentence.

#dramione #dramione drabble #draco x hermione #dhr fandom #chronophobiquedrabbles #hermione granger #draco malfoy #harry potter #hermione x draco #dramione fanfic

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renaiswriting · 1 year ago

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Shadows of Desire (part 10)

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan/Reader

Summary:

You always thought the only romance you would experiment with in your life was the one between pages under the flames at midnight. That was until you found him, because the feel of his fangs digging into your neck was more than addictive.

Word count: +5.4k words

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of blood.

If you want to be tagged, please fill out the tag list form.

Author's note: shout-out to my Shadows of Desire playlist because it really helped me find inspiration to write this part lol

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"Are we running out of garlic again— Hey! Wow, why are you so jumpy?"

You looked in and shook at Luke as he lifted the mess you had made without missing the swearing coming from his mouth.

You apologized, but your shoulders were still tense.

"I don't know," you replied, noticing that Luke was still expecting an answer. "I just had a bad dream, I guess."

The memories and the well-lived sensations came back to your mind once again, and the ghost of a person you thought you knew made an appearance in your mind.

"You've been locked in your room way too much lately," Luke clicked his tongue, and I don't think it's doing you any favors. Maybe you should go outside for a while. Why don't you go and pick some blueberries? Mark told me there are barely any left. God knows when we will have some jam if we don't use it now."

"I don't know..." Luke frowned, sitting down on your bed and looking at your current state.

"Why not? It was never an issue before. Want me to go with you?"

"You hate going there." You shook your head. "I'll think about it, alright?" You offered, but your poor attempt to fool Luke was in vain.

"I'll go and get Mark if you want to go with someone; maybe that friend of yours could tag alone as well?"

You froze on your spot.

Your heartbeat quickly started picking up, and your hands suddenly felt way too cold.

"No."

Luke looked at you weirdly.

"I don't want to see him."

"What happened?" Luke asked. "Did he do something?"

You stared at Luke.

What could you answer to that question?

You were still pretty confused yourself.

Technically, it was a bad dream.

Like the one you had years ago where you stole Susan's sheep and made a meal with them.

It wasn't real.

But the feeling was so real that it did make you feel like you were the most horrible monster ever.

And even though you could still tell it was a dream, you weren't so sure this time.

It had felt so real.

You could remember every single thing that had happened in front of your eyes.

Every single thing

And that made your head feel dizzy.

The lines that differentiated between what was real and what was a product of your mind were blurry.

"No." You finally spoke. "I just think it would be for the best for me to stay away from him. At least just for some time."

"Keep him from taking you the wrong way." Luke nodded. "Why don't you go and have tea with Susan? A woman can only be truly understood by another woman."

"Yeah, maybe." You nodded, and Luke thankfully took it. That was the best he would get anyway.

"Mark is going tonight." Luke informed me, cleaning his throat, not knowing where to look. You wanted to laugh; he was usually really awkward whenever he tried to comfort you.

"I'll bake a pie then." You promised. Your words had the effect you were expecting, taking some of the worry off Luke's face.

"If you want to." He shrugged, but there was a pleasing smile on his face. You could tell he was already looking forward to the dessert. "We're running out of fruits, though." He mentioned it on his way out of your room. "You might want to go and buy some before it's too late."

You wanted to slap yourself.

Of fucking course you were running out of fruits; you have been eating them every day as if it were your last meal.

And not just fruits.

You have been doing everything as if it were your last.

You weren't sure if it was because you have always loved fruits and the eating part helped you calm down from all your nervousness and anxiety or if your body was genuinely making you devour everything that was in front of you because there was a thin chance of it being your last.

"Luke I don't want to go alone." You cried, jumping from your bed to rush towards the front door where Luke was standing, putting his biggest jacket over his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot go with you. I still own them some money; if I go there, they will not let me live." Luke replied, taking his favorite hat from the chair.

"Are you going to Mark's?" You asked hopefully.

"Yeah, but only to bring back my beer. I bought a lot in the bar last night, and I was so drunk that he fooled me into giving it to him. He's not going to be back until it's dinner time."

"Can't you really not go on your own?" Luke sighed frustratedly, trying to free himself from your hold on his arm.

"I will try." You mumbled, the pout in your face not really doing anything to make Luke change his mind.

"It will only take ten minutes." He reassured you, "Are you sure you want to go in your pajamas?"

It was dark.

Not peach-dark.

But dark nonetheless.

The sky was slowly turning from pink to purple, dark blue, and finally black.

And the birds making sudden noises were making your heart beat as if you were in a race.

You hated the way you had the urge to turn your head with every step you took.

You saw a girl walking in front of you, and that somewhat made you feel safer.

At least you weren't completely alone.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath and stop walking.

Breathe, you reminded yourself.

And for the next ten minutes, as you wandered deeper into the darkness of the tall trees that covered what was left of the light, you kicked at a rock you had found on the ground.

Somehow, it helped.

It was not a person.

Or an animal.

But you felt somewhat accompanied.

Less lonely.

Oh, Jiji, you lamented that the poor thing was probably still in a lot of pain from the snakebite she had come up with earlier that morning.

That's what she gets for wandering around at night, you thought, shaking your head.

Luke had made you swear that you would let Jiji sleep outside one night because every morning he woke up with the living room full of the remains of Jiji's needs.

The poor dog had almost no outlet to do any of her business at night.

But you couldn't help it; you were afraid something bad would happen to her.

This time it was a snake bite, but next time it might be a bite from a...

No.

Nothing like that

Stop it.

But obviously, it was easier said than done.

All those memories, all those sensations... Your heart was still aching against your chest, beating so fast whenever you caught yourself wandering around that nightmare.

It was like your lungs suddenly had trouble holding in air because no matter how much you tried to breathe, the air was never enough.

It was difficult to correctly classify all the emotions you experienced when you couldn't help but think about them.

Were those images simply a figment of your mind, a twisted fantasy that your subconscious was trying to prove?

You had never experienced anything similar; all your dreams, no matter how beautiful or terrifying they had been, were always a blur.

When you woke up, you could remember, on a good day, at least a quarter of what you had actually dreamed.

If anyone asked you, there were only a handful of dreams that you could actually remember, and even these had not been as sharp as those of that night.

Jeonghan... You had come to consider him a friend.

He had earned a soft spot in your heart.

You felt like a stupid young girl.

Had it all been a game to him?

What was it?

All this time, all the shared moments? All the nights you'd asked him to stay with you while you were falling asleep, so vulnerable, you'd left it up to him to do whatever he wanted.

You swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in you dryly; the knot in your stomach didn't seem to go away.

Your fists clenched, and you kicked the rock as hard as you could in the direction of the nearest tree.

Maybe all those times Luke and Mike teased you, telling you that you weren't ready for the real world, they were right.

Walking in the direction where the poor rock that had accompanied you up to that moment had fallen, you let yourself fall beside it.

You drew your legs up to your chest, allowing your elbows to jab against your knees.

Your hands covered your face as a frustrated sigh escaped through your fingers.

You hated it. The way your heart was still beating fast as, with your free hands, you pulled the dagger out of your back that Jeonghan had plunged into you

You had trusted him so much.

Maybe his friend sensed it.

Maybe he hadn't been the true villain you had believed him to be.

The nausea suddenly became more noticeable as the realization formed in your mind.

His friends.

Fuck.

They were probably part of it.

Monsters.

All of them.

The ones who hated you

The ones who didn't want Jeonghan to hang out with you

Those who didn't even want to see you a kilometer closer to Jeonghan.

Alarm bells began to ring in your brain, and your body was, once again, at the beginning of a crisis.

Even with the big gulps of air you were trying to inhale, the feeling that you were suffocating didn't stop.

The palms of your hands made contact with the ground, with different branches, sharp rocks, and wet grass tearing at your skin on contact.

Your eyes were wide open like two saucers, and tears were starting to fall down your cheeks without your permission.

Were you about to die?

You had never had such a near-death experience, but you were sure you were half a foot away from passing to the other side.

The memory of that dream popped into your mind, almost as if mockingly asking you, "Are you sure you were never about to die before?"

A cold hand landed on the center of your back; his body invaded the ground, glued to yours, while with his other hand he tried to move his face to the ground.

You screamed.

Or so you thought, because you felt a heartbreaking burning sensation in your throat.

Your hands moved quickly from the floor, where they had been supporting your weight, to try to fight whoever was there.

But now that your body was still leaning on the ground without your hands to help distribute the weight, you lost your balance, making you shut your eyes, ready for the impact of your face hitting the ground.

Your heart skipped a beat when the words careful hit your ear.

Jeonghan was holding you close to his chest.

Your hearing was trying to sharpen as much as possible so you could catch a hint of a heartbeat.

But all you could hear was your own heart thudding against your ear.

"Shhh." Jeonghan spoke low, his voice entering your ears like a spell. "Breathe," he instructed. "Take five deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

"You... You came to—you're going to kill me." You replied, your voice almost impossible to understand because of your gasping breath. Your eyes wouldn't stop leaking tears, your eyes were red and puffy, and your nose was running.

"Breathe." Jeonghan replied, trying to bring your altered mind back to his simple instructions. "Copy the way I'm breathing."

His cold hands were holding you as close to him as possible without actually hurting you.

But instead of calming you, his presence was having the opposite effect.

You started kicking and slapping his arms and hands away from you.

The slapping on his hands shocked him enough to let you go, and as soon as you were out of his hold, you moved as far from him as possible without standing up.

His eyes were on your face, studying your every move. Both of his hands were raised, facing you, so you could see his movements.

"(Y/n). Please breathe; you're going to hyperventilate." He sat down in a much more comfortable position, but that slight change in posture was enough to send you into panic mode once again. "I won't move, alright? Look at me. I'm here. I won't move closer." He stated this, even moving a few centimeters back.

"You're going to hurt me; you came here to finish what you attempted to start, god knows when." You shook your head in disbelief. Your words were slowly becoming more understanding as you were starting to accept your fate. "Did you invite them? Are they around?"

"Them? Who are you talking about? It's just me. Jeonghan." He replied, looking confused enough. His right hand was where his heart, if he were still a human and alive, should be beating.

"Your friends." You replied. Your eyes were still red, and old tears were still on your cheeks. Your eyes were looking at him, but they were emotionless. All the previous crying had somehow drained you of any other feeling.

This was it. You thought. There's no going back now. There's not a single chance to get away with this, not alive at least.

I hope I taste awful. The thought came to your mind, and a wave of angriness started to build inside of you. I hope they all get poison from my blood. I hope they remember me for being the worst they have ever tasted.

"I'm not with them." Jeonghan replied, looking defeated. His eyes traveled from your face to the ground, and a frown was visibly on his forehead. It felt out of place. His face didn't match those expressions.

"So you came here to have me all to yourself?" you laughed. The lack of grace in your laughter was more than evident.

"No." Jeonghan replied, backing away a few steps as if the very question was physically hurting him. As if your words were daggers stabbing him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"But you tried to."

"(Y/n)..." Jeonghan stood up, walking five steps closer to you.

"You did. Back off. Now. I don't want you near me."

"I'm not here to hurt you; I'm here to protect you. I want to talk with you." Jeonghan replied, his voice sounding like a plea.

"And if I say no, then what will happen? Will you play with my mind, with my memories, the way you have been doing all this time?" You replied angrily. "I don't know what games you're playing, but I'm out. I won't take part in it any longer."

"You played with my memories; do you have any idea of how fuck up that is? Do you even know how fucked up it is to wake up not sure of what's real and what's not?" You added. "No, you have no idea." You replied to yourself before Jeonghan even got a chance to reply.

"I didn't mean for you to get this scared of me."

"Well, it's a little bit too late for that."

"I only ever meant to protect you. I swear. I never tried to hurt you."

"Shut up. I don't want to listen to you. I don't want to see you. Just go and leave me alone. You and all the others that are just like you."

Jeonghan frowned once again. "It just doesn't make sense. I don't understand what could have possibly happened for you to get so—what did you see?"

"And now you're going to play dumb?" You were sick of it. I'm sick of the situation and of Jeonghan. You stood up, starting once again on your way to the place where you should already be.

You wondered if Luke was already back.

Did he realize you were not home yet?

"(Y/n)! Wait." Jeonghan ran to walk next to you. "Please, I think there's something wrong."

"Besides what you did?" You asked sarcastically.

Jeonghan holds you by your wrist, making it impossible for you to escape from his grip.

"Don't touch me." You spoke with a much braver voice than you really felt.

In reality, you wished for nothing else but for Jeonghan to tell you it had been just a bad dream.

A nightmare.

"You were lying down. In the ground. There was blood. Lots of blood. I tried to help you, but you stood up and tried to kill me." Your eyes naturally moved to his half-open mouth, his shinny teeth, and his sharp fangs, which only now were a little bit too sharp for them to be considered... Normal.

His eyebrows drew so close together that they almost seemed to form a unibrow. If there had been any more color in his face at that moment, it would have been gone.

The cold night breeze did nothing to stop the shivers and shivering that ran through your body. Your feet and hands were already frozen, and you didn't need to see your reflection to know that both your cheeks and nose were red.

The breeze blowing through the dampness that had left such a cry helped keep you grounded in reality.

What Jeonghan had already done, you had no way to change.

As much as you wanted to beg and wish it were otherwise, what was done was done.

"No, that's not—those are not the memories that I hide from you; that doesn't—listen. That's not what happened that night; it wasn't me that did that. It was someone else." Jeonghan spoke quickly, his words barely making sense as he started a new sentence before finishing the one he started before. You could almost physically feel the way his brain was working overtime in such a short time.

"That night I was hunting near your house. When I heard a scream. Your scream. I don't usually get involved, especially when I know it's another one of ours—another vampire, hunting. But this area is usually my clan's. We try not to hunt humans, so our diet is mostly animal. Sheep, in my preference. So I was alarmed. When I got to where I heard that scream, I saw you with another vampire. A vampire who unfortunately seems to be more involved in your life than you think. The only memories of that night I erased were of myself when I started fighting that vampire."

"Am I supposed to believe you?" you asked incredulously. But the truth was, you didn't know what to believe anymore. "I'm sure about the people in my life. And not one, not one person in that small circle, would be able to hurt me."

"(Y/n), I need you to trust me on this one. Please. I really think you're in danger right now. I don't know what to do—maybe Seungcheol might know; he's the oldest of my clan." Jeonghan started thinking out loud, talking to himself while holding your wrist tightly while he started walking deep into the woods, making you follow him clumsily behind.

Your heels dug into the ground as best you could, trying with all your might to avoid being dragged to wherever Jeonghan was trying to take you.

His hand was gripping your wrist so tightly that his fingers were already beginning to mark your skin.

"I'm not going anywhere with you; let go of me!"

Jeonghan turned, glaring at you. "I regret to inform you that on this occasion you don't have much of a choice. You are in danger."

You began to struggle again to get him to let go, but a wave of peace and tranquility washed over you, making your brain feel funny and a little dizzy.

You didn't quite remember why you had been so upset.

What had happened?

You smiled.

You had no idea.

"Better?" Jeonghan asked you again, this time holding you more gently. You nodded, still a little confused but unable to help the oeaueueueque chuckle that escaped your lips. Jeonghan smiled back, switching hands to hold your wrist with his left hand and your back with his right. "I'm glad. Now we'll go to my place; I need to check that everything is okay before I return you home, okay?"

"Okay."

Slowly that dizzy, tingling feeling in your head began to disappear. It was like you had a cloud in front of your eyes, and with each step, you could see more clearly.

Jeonghan was walking briskly, but he seemed to remember that you needed to move slower, especially with so much darkness.

"Where—?"

"We're almost there." Jeonghan replied gently, but his gaze was on the ground, still too busy with his own thoughts.

You didn't try to fight your way out.

It was in vain.

You couldn't even see the ground; there was no way to escape and run away from there without being discovered.

You walked in silence for about another five minutes. Five minutes that made you think about every single possibility, every possible scenario

Five minutes in which Jeonghan was constantly turning backwards and sideways, sharpening his ears to their maximum capabilities

Five minutes to say goodbye.

Jeonghan had told you he didn't plan to hurt you.

But they were on their way to the house he shared with those who hated you so much.

You closed your eyes, talking to your mother for a few moments.

When your eyes opened again, you found yourself in front of two lanterns and a large black gate, which protected a huge house that looked like something out of those old stories you loved to read.

Both the gate and the house at the back of the road were black. Some lights were on, and you could have sworn you saw two shadows moving behind the white curtains of one of the second-floor windows.

If you weren't so terrified, you would have found it very pretty.

It was like a castle.

Jeonghan opened the gate, letting you walk first before closing it again behind himself.

"They won't hurt you." Jeonghan mentioned noticing your tense shoulders. You didn't bother to reply at all, giving him the cold shoulder instead.

The door opened, and a strong smell of lavender invaded your senses.

It did kind of help to calm your nervousness and anxiety a little bit.

The floor was made of a shiny material that made the colors white and black shine as if they were made of glass.

They felt nice on your now-barefoot feet.

There was some really low music coming from one of the rooms.

And at the end of the hall, there were big, pretty intimidating stairs.

One man, with fair skin and ash blonde hair, walked down from the second floor, his shoulders bouncing up and down with each step he took.

He walked so relaxed that you really wanted him to make you believe he meant no harm.

"Hey." He greeted you as he walked past both of you, entering another room from the first floor.

"Have you seen Seungcheol?" Jeonghan asked him, his hand pushing you softly from your back towards the room the guy had just entered.

He shook his head, pouring himself a red drink in a glass. Your stomach suddenly felt sick once you realized what he was drinking.

Blood.

He took a bug-glup of it, sighing happily once the blood hit the back of his throat.

"I haven't seen him for the whole night." He spoke again, his teeth now looking quite red as well.

"I'm just waking up anyway; maybe ask Wonwoo?"

"Thanks, Vernon." Jeonghan replied, grabbing himself by the wrist and entering a spacious living room.

The place was huge. There were multiple armchairs. They were all white, and their cushions were red.

In the center of the room, there was a black piano and many paintings on the walls.

Your eyes instinctively moved to the large library that took up an entire wall.

Wonwoo, as you guessed, was a tall, slender young man with big shoulders and a small waist.

His hair was black, and his eyes were perusing the words of a book that must be at least a thousand pages long.

His eyes reminded you very much of the eyes of a cat.

"What do you need?" He spoke. His voice was deep and clear.

"Have you seen Seungcheol?" Jeonghan asked again.

"No. He probably went to the village. As far as I know, he had some business to take care of there." His eyes didn't move from his book, but the next question did take you by surprise. "What is she doing here?"

"Please, let me know when Seungcheol's back." Jeonghan replied instead, taking you to one of the rooms upstairs.

The bedroom was small—bigger than yours but way smaller than the two other rooms you have been to in that house. It had a big bed that could easily fit three people comfortably, maybe even four.

There were some plants here and there, but most of them were already too dry to bring back to life, and a big closet

There was nothing really personal there.

Nothing that screamed Jeonghan

So it did make you second-guess if that was actually his room.

"You can take a seat." Jeonghan offered, pointing at the small sofa under the window.

"I'm alright." You replied.

"It might take a while before he comes back; I really suggest you take a seat." He repeated himself. "Are you hungry? I can go downstairs and make you something to eat."

"No, I would rather go back home."

"Look, I know you're mad at me. I know that. I understand that. But I really did all that for your own good. There are things that you can never know happened—things that your brain removed for your own good. And if it were in my power—if it were up to me—I'd be telling you by now. All of them. In great detail. But I can't. Not without knowing how dangerous it is. So please trust me. I'm asking a lot, I know. But please let me do some research. Let me find out what's within my reach before I start talking and put us both in danger."

You remained silent but sat down on the couch, as Jeonghan had indicated.

Jeonghan breathed a sigh of relief, taking off the coat he had been wearing and putting it away in the closet.

"Would you like a sandwich? I'm sorry that's the best I can offer you, but as you must have discovered, our diet isn't the most diverse on the planet." Jeonghan offered with a small smile.

"Okay." You accepted, and your stomach was seconds away from starting to growl hungrily. "But not too big; my brother had promised me to cook dinner tonight."

It was an obvious hint you had thrown at him, and Jeonghan seemed to pick up on it just as quickly.

"I'll try to get everything done quickly so you don't have to miss your dinner." Jeonghan promised. "But I'm not sure how late Seungcheol will be."

You nodded, allowing Jeonghan to go and bring you something from the kitchen.

You could hear some noises here and there, but you purposely ignored them and distracted yourself with the view of the outside you had from Jeonghan's room.

The moon looked very beautiful that night.

"Thank you." You thanked Jeonghan, accepting the plate he was handing you. His cold fingers brushed against your fingers accidentally, and you wanted to think.

"I hope it tastes good."

"It does," you replied, taking a second bite.

Jeonghan watched you eat with a smile on his face. He seemed too happy with the outcome of his sandwich.

"You're not going to eat?"

"I can't." Jeonghan shook his head. "Anything other than...you know, it goes bad for my stomach."

"What if you eat human food, then?" you asked curiously.

"I throw up." Jeonghan replied calmly. "It's involuntary; I like to smell food." He added. "It reminds me of when I could eat it. But no matter how many times I try to eat it, it tastes bad to me."

"And how do you know when you have to...?"

Jeonghan chuckled softly. "I can sense when I need to hunt." He replied. "You can feel it in the back of my throat—the need to drink blood. My body gets cold."

Your eyes widened, remembering how Jeonghan's body temperature felt compared to yours.

"Don't worry, I'm not on the verge of having to go hunting yet or drink blood. My hands are the first to get cold."

"So you can't drink that until you feel it in your throat?" You tried to ask for help to calm your own erratic heart.

"Oh, no. I can drink whenever I want."

"Then why not drinking now? Don't you have blood downstairs?"

"Yes." Jeonghan took a deep breath, his eyes moving to yours. "But I don't want to scare you any more than you already are."

"I'm more terrified to know that you're in the same room as me with the slightest feeling of hunger." You confessed to him.

Jeonghan looked at you for a few seconds, contemplating your words and his options.

"Would you feel more comfortable with me drinking here or in the kitchen?"

"Here." You replied confidently. "I need to know if it's just as scary as in my dream."

You needed to start being able to distinguish what was true and what wasn't.

For your own sake.

Jeonghan nodded. "Very well, then."

He came back to the room with a bottle that, fortunately, made it impossible to see what it had in its interior.

He took one last look at you. "Are you sure you want to see this?" He asked.

"Yeah."

He nodded, taking a deep breath before his lips met the bottle. As the liquid started filling his mouth, his shoulders started being so tense, his eyes shut tight, and his forehead frowned as he took more and more of the blood.

His breath became more erratic, sounding as if he were fighting to fill his lungs with air.

He opened his eyes; they were full of red. His pupils were so dilated that you couldn't see where they started or where they ended.

A shiver ran through your body, not knowing what to make of his gaze on you.

It frightened you.

But it intrigued you.

You were unable to break eye contact.

With shaky legs, you stood up, walking closer to where he was.

He followed your every move, and as you got closer, the sound of the blood traveling down his throat became louder.

Your hands slowly approached the bottle, holding it on your own.

Jeonghan's eyes opened wide, but he freed the bottle from his own hand, letting you do whatever you wanted to do.

You held it intact for a few minutes until it was fully empty.

You sit down next to him, taking a quick look at the bottle and at his red lips.

"What does it taste like?" You asked him, trying to fill the awkward silence that had fallen on you both.

"Like chocolate." He joked. His eyes were still fully dilated. He looked drunk with blood. "Less sweet, though. Since it isn't fresh blood."

You nodded, looking away.

"So?" Jeonghan asked after some minutes, and you looked at him confused. "Was it like in your dream?"

"Oh," you replied, "no. I don't know. It wasn't really from a bottle there."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Alright." He added, looking everywhere but you.

"Can you try it?" You asked him at the same time he was saying, "I should better bring that downstairs."

"What?" He asked, alarmed.

"Can you try it?" You repeated yourself, bringing your arm closer to him and uncovering your skin from the fabric that was covering it.

"No." He shook his head. Looking seriously at you. "Why would I ever do that?"

"I need it." You looked at him straight in the eyes. "I don't know what's real and what's not, and this is the only way. You were the one in the dream; I need to see if it is like that."

"You almost had a panic attack today when you saw me; do you think this is really the best idea? What if it is like your dream? How could that be of any help? I need you to trust me and understand that it wasn't me."

"Please."

"No."

"Just for one second." You tried again. "Please."

"Maybe another day. It was definitely a lot for a single day."

62 notes · View notes

dragon-kazansky · 2 years ago

Text

Domestic life

Ice x Dragon

The Chaos Squad

Just a little insight into the life of Dragon and Ice.

♡♡♡

After that first date, Ice and Dragon kept on going out.

It became the norm to see them together.

Slider and Dragon got on really well, and with Whiskey in the mix, everyone just got on great.

Ice always imvited Dragon out anywhere he went.

She was also spending a lot of night at Ice's place.

Even after the academy, they made as much time for each other as possible.

Despite being based across the country to each other, they always found a way to stay in contact and meet each other when possible.

Ice swore he wouldn't let the distance take this away from him.

Eventually luck would be on their side and they would find themselves stationed together.

That's when they took a leap in their relationship.

Ice asked Dragon to move in with him.

He didn't want to be apart from her any longer than necessary again.

She agreed.

Dragon was living with Ice before the month was out.

The romance never died.

Ice would spoil Dragon as much as he could.

In return, Dragon spoiled him back.

Out of the blue, for no reason what so ever, Dragon bought him a present.

A gold pen.

Ice asked why she had given him this.

"I saw it and I thought of you."

Ice swears he couldn't possibly have fallen more in love with her than right then.

Any opportunity to kiss, they take it.

In the morning.

Before they leave the house.

When they come back.

At night.

At night 😉

Sometimes in the morning 😉😉

Ice won't go a day without telling Dragon 'I love you.'

It makes her heart soar.

It's like a tradition.

Cooking alternates between them.

Both share the chores.

Ice is very neat and tidy, and is happy to do most of the cleaning.

Though Dragon always helps.

Dragon always take it upon herself to make sure his uniform is ready for him.

Often before she is deployed for a mission, she'll leave Ice notes in the house.

Mostly found in his office as he works a lot from home when she's gone.

They always make him smile.

When he's deployed and she isn't, he leaves notes on her bedside table, or in her favourite books, knowing she gets a lot of reading done when he's gone.

Ice puts a lot of effort into his hair.

Dragon makes sure he always has enough product for it.

He appreciates that.

Ice in return makes sure there's plenty of tea and hot chocolate in the house.

Dragon always has a warm drink before bed.

Often he will make it for her and bring it to her after a deployment.

Ice always wakes up with an arm around her.

Not waking up like that feels wrong.

Dragon likes to turn over and cuddle with him as she wakes.

Ice will kiss her forehead softly.

On those lazy Sunday's, neither of them will get up until much later.

At which point they'll eat and decide what kind of day they'll have.

Ice will either take Dragon our or they'll stay home and doe chores or spend some time together.

Dragon likes watching movies with him.

She uses as an excuse to put her head on his lap and relax.

Sometimes she'll curl up and read while Ice watches something.

Sometimes Slider and Whiskey will come over to spend some time with them.

There are times when they fly together.

Dragon understands her skills are not quite as good as Ice's, but he insists there is no one he would rather fly with.

Slider stands by that too.

When flying together, the relationship side is put to the side.

Both are professional pilots.

They work hard together.

When they land again, they smile and hug.

They're a well made team.

When Ice and Slider are put forward to Top Gun, Ice argues he will only go if Dragon goes too.

Dragon tries to argue she isn't Top Gun material, but that's her self doubt.

Ice knows what he sees when she's up in the air.

Ice argues with his superior for a while.

Eventually it ends with Dragon being sent to Top Gun too.

Dragon scolds Ice for that.

But he just smiles back at her.

"I'm not going anywhere without my girl."

Dragon smiles at that.

It doesn't surprise their friends that in less than a year they're engaged.

Even less of a surprise when they're married within months.

Ice knows he wants to spend his life with her, so why wait?

Dragon has never been happier.

It's Slider that starts the trend of calling them The Kazansky's.

It gets around and everyone starts referring to them as that.

Dragon likes the sound of it.

Rachael 'Dragon' Kazansky.

Ice likes it too.

It's because of Goose they met, so of course you know he's going to be there for her on her big day.

Mav congratulates Ice, but also low key threatens him if Dragon ever comes out of this hurt.

Ice swears that won't ever happen.

Maverick knows that.

When the day comes that The Chaos Squad comes to light, you could say a very large and unconventional family starts.

Dragon takes great pride in being someone the squad can come to for anything.

As an extension, Ice has everyone's back.

Especially when he becomes an Admiral.

Speaking of, when he becomes an Admiral, Dragon swears she has never been so proud.

She likes to gloat a little bit.

Ice just rolled his eyes and smiles.

Basically, you don't fuck with the Kazansky's and they won't fuck with you.

Dragon will fight.

And Ice will let her.

And remember Chaos Squad, if you need the Kazansky's, they'll be right there!

#ice x dragon #iceman x dragon #iceman #dragon #top gun #the chaos squad #the chaos squad fics #fluff

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thetreetopinn · 2 years ago

Text

When the queer leftist atheist goes to a conservative thanksgiving

I am very tired.

It has been a very long day.

Mostly because I spent the last 48 hours helping my mother with 90% of all of the preparations for Thanksgiving--prepping something like ten items for everyone to eat--as well as clean up, organizing, table-setting, 5-year-old wrangling, etc.

But I am also very tired because of my brother-in-law.

See, they say something you should never talk about at Thanksgiving is politics, and fucking hell let me tell you what--I know that all too well. I'm the black sheep of the family when it comes to my politics. I have learned well to not say SHIT if I can help it. I will end up getting dog-piled on.

So yeah, keep my mouth shut, don't start nothin', won't be nothin'.

And then my brother-in-law looks me dead in the eye and asks me "Hey, do you have any bitcoin?"

That was how it started.

I replied with "No, I stay as far away from anything crypto-related as I possibly can."

He wanted to talk about his favorite sports personalities getting shafted by the crypto-crash and thought I'd be sympathetic.

I am not. Not in the slightest.

"They knew what they were getting into when they bought into an unregulated financial speculation instrument. It is a scam. Nothing more, nothing less. They're trying to speedrun every financial crisis that has happened since the great depression, and it looks like they succeeded."

He promptly shut up.

Preparations continue, discussions are had, there's a video that he and my sister are confused about because their kid is way into it, and they're not doing the picosecond of googling to find out what it is, so I do the hard work for them, find out it's inappropriate for someone so little, and they ban him from watching it. Brother-in-law starts going off on a mini-rant about media:

"It's gotten so bad you don't know who to trust, not even Disney, they're trying to brainwash kids."

I want to jump in. Oh fuck do I want to jump in so god damned badly. Holy shit do I want to just clap back with "Oh yeah? Brainwashing them how? EXACTLY? Is it be an even more ardent and fanatical devotee of the mouse so they will be excited to consume more product? Then yes, I agree. If you say the world 'woke' at all, then no, because Disney is absolutely not work. They axe shit all the time because it's "too woke" and queerbait constantly."

But I don't. I don't give him the rundown of what happened with the now deposed CEO who elected to not advertise the children's animated film that has an openly gay lead character so it would fail and use that as justification to axe more queer stories. I keep my fucking mouth shut.

We do the usual prayer around the table--as an atheist, I'm surprised I don't burst into flames--and while we're eating... my brother-in-law starts asking me about Mars.

"Do you think we'll ever get to Mars?"

Now... I know EXACTLY where this is going. I know PRECISELY who he wants to talk about. I know SPECIFICALLY where he wants to drive the subject... but I don't let him.

See, I'm a fucking space nerd and I can talk CIRCLES around the subject he wants to bullseye without ever straying into that maelstrom. Yes I know I'm mixing my metaphors. I don't care.

We have a legitimately decent discussion about the difficulties of spaceflight and traveling to another world and how NASA has provided so much spin-off technology and the actual benefits of having a human space flight program... even though he's trying--TRYING HIS DAMNEDEST--to bait me into something more provocative, whether he means it intentionally or not.

He sees he's not gonna get me this time and the discussion dies down.

Hours later, we're watching a movie, the credits roll, and I swear to you... completely unprovoked, not even mentioned anywhere in the film, nothing. Completely and utterly out of the blue:

"What are your thoughts on Jordan Peterson?"

Okay, sit down boo... we gonna have a FUCKIN' CHAT 'cause I got thoughts, feelings, and emotions.

You wanna go there? Let's go there. There is no FUCKING way he didn't know that was going to cause a problem. Peterson is too polarizing a figure. So I lay it on him as politely and gently as I can.

"I don't like him. He pushes a lot of wrong-headed ideology. He is a liar and a charlatan who has messianic thinking."

Hooo boy... turns out my brother-in-law is a Jordan Peterson stan.

Fucking great.

He starts in on the bullshit about making misgendering someone a crime you can be imprisoned for. I rebut with "no it's not, that's a lie"

He comes back with "I don't know where you get your information from" and "Just look it up, get out your phone and look up Jordan Peterson C-16"

So I fucking do, right there, in front of him.

In less than 30 fucking seconds, I find a legitimately credible source that says "No, Peterson is full of shit, it's not a crime, you can't be sent to jail for using the wrong pronouns" and I say "So he lied... like a liar."

And of course... because it runs counter to the narrative he wants to believe, he laughs derisively and dismisses me. I counter with "oh by the way, if you wanna come at me with that guy who was held in contempt for misgendering his child? That didn't happen either. He was held in contempt because the judge explicitly said to not discuss the matter of the court case in public, and he went and did that... even tried to raise money off of it. The judge slapped him with 'you were told explicitly not to do that, and you went and did it anyway"

Brother-in-law's response...

"Ah."

Just... fucking hell.

To my sister's credit, she saw where this was going the MINUTE he said the name "Jordan Peterson" and started packing everything up to haul the family home. She knew her husband was baiting me, she knew he was doing it all fucking day, and he finally got me to take that bait.

They left, and it was just me and my parents.

I apologized to them for getting argumentative, but it's something that's deeply important to me, to fight back against those false narratives that have gotten people killed--RECENTLY.

There was a... 'discussion' to be had, and my parents trotted out the same, tired centrist talking points "How do we get back to where we can just have a normal, civilized conversation and respect each other even if we disagree?"

THIS IS NOT SOMETHING YOU CAN RESPECT

PUSHING THE DANGEROUS AND LIFE-THREATENING MISINFORMATION PETERSON AND HIS ILK PUSH ABOUT TRANS PEOPLE GETS THEM--AND QUEER PEOPLE IN GENERAL--KILLED. YOU DO NOT POLITELY ARGUE WITH THAT.

You try to gently educate if you can. You provide documentation and sources and evidence if possible. But you do. not. DEBATE. This is not a discussion.

My dad whips out this "When I was your age or younger I too had a lot of really strong opinions. I felt like my opinion was the most important one and everyone should agree with me."

And I stomped down HARD on that shit:

"I'm sorry... is that what you think of me? Do you really think I believe my opinion is the most important one? If that's what you genuinely think then we need to have a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT discussion."

It took me 30 god damn minutes to get both my mom and my dad to come around to the simple idea of "this isn't just a difference of opinion, this is pushing back against dangerous misinformation that gets people killed" and even then... they clearly didn't fully get where I was coming from.

My mom brought up "well I hear all this hateful stuff from the LGBTQIA+ whatever community"

"What hateful stuff, specifically? I wanna address it."

"Well... all this... you know... they force little kids to have surgery-"

"That doesn't happen. That is a lie. No doctor will perform gender affirming surgery on anyone under 18. And HRT, they will not provide that if you're 12 or younger. If you're talking about puberty blockers, those are completely safe and reversible--even though getting them is extremely difficult. You can't just go to the doctor and ask for them and boom... your child suddenly has HRT and new genitals. It takes YEARS sometimes just to take the first step--EVEN FOR ADULTS."

"Then why do politicians keep saying it?"

"They lie. They lie to keep you afraid. To keep you hating the 'right' kind of people. To keep you whipped up and voting for them. That's why."

Mom didn't like that. I don't know if she accepted it or not.

When I asked her point blank "Do you think gay and trans people should be allowed to exist with the same rights as straight and cis people?" she DID say that she does think they should.... so... at least her heart is in the right place I guess.

I didn't hear an answer from my dad on the point.

But they really REALLY wanted to make it sound like it was MY fault for rising to my brother-in-law's bait. Motherfucker was TRYING, and god damn did he fucking succeed.

Mom trotted out the "Whatever you wanna do in your own home, that's fine. I just don't want it in my face."

That's when I started talking about representation in media, how straight cis people are EVERYWHERE... from a queer perspective, heteronormativity is shoved in THEIR faces from every angle.

I went on to talk about the Hayes Code, which neither of them had heard about, the 'bury your gays' trope, the fact that the queer community loves Disney villains like Jafar, Ursula, Scar, etc. because of queer coding

Because "well if this is the only representation we get, then we'll take it and make it our own"

I told them about Strange World and how the former CEO tries to bury it because of his raging homophobia.

My mom was shocked... ACTUALLY SHOCKED... about the queer coding of Disney villains.

"That's wild... I never saw them like that, they were just bad guys in Disney movies to me."

"Yeah... exactly my point. You don't see it. Queer people do. And if you can only see yourself in the villain... what's that say? That tells you that's what the world sees you as."

I went on with: "Why is it that when we see a little boy and a little girl being boyfriend and girlfriend in movies and what not, it's cute and innocent, but if it's a little boy and a little boy or a little girl and a little girl, it's suddenly SEXUALLIZED!? Why isn't the little boy and the little girl seen as sexual?"

Neither mom nor dad could answer.

Eventually, it came back to: "How do we get back to having rational, civilized discussions again?"

"I don't know, but as long as a person's right to exist is up for debate, there is no civil discourse to be had. It's either you get to have rights, or you don't, and one of those is fascism."

I can see their desire to want to do the right thing, to be okay with people different than themselves... but they've just swallowed so much bullshit propaganda over the years, and they continue to. I don't know if I reached my dad. I feel like maybe I reached my mom. We don't fully agree on abortion--like, she is concerned for the life of the innocent or whatever wording she actually used, but she damn sure doesn't like the idea of the government having a say in what you can and can't do with your body.

At least we are in full agreement on that front. I tried to frame that as 'right to privacy'... but then she brought it straight back over to the vaccination card.

*LOUD, ANGRY, QUEER, LEFTIST SIGH*

"A woman's right to chose to get an abortion does not affect the life of a person she bumps into at the store. Whether or not she is vaccinated can kill that same stranger--and has killed people. I am 100% in favor of everyone having personal liberties and freedoms... but the very second your personal liberty results in someone else's death--some random person you ran into at the store or on the street... that's when it becomes something else entirely"

We also had a discussion about abortion--about when they happen the most, about why someone gets a late-term abortion, about how there are so many potential carve-outs that the government ought to allow that I just said "at that point, why do all this fucking means testing? Just give them abortion care. They're already going through enough heartbreak as it is, just let them make their choice and not be judged or criminalized for it."

There wasn't a response after that.

Dad started turning up the volume on the TV at a certain point. I think he was fucking done with me. And you know what? That's fine. I don't need his approval. I don't need his blessing. I don't even need him to fucking agree with me.

People should have the right do what they want with their own bodies. If he disagrees with that, then he's in favor of state regulated bodily control, and that's fucking fascism.

Yes, that does mean I have to be in favor of a good many things that I might disagree with--like surgically altering yourself to look like a cat... yeah, that weirds me out... but whatever, it's your body. Do what you want with it.

You wanna smoke or chew or dip or whatever? I'm not particularly fond of it, and I have some VERY strong feelings about the tobacco industry... but... it's your body. Just don't force ME to breathe your second hand smoke. I already have enough respiratory issues. It comes back to that whole personal liberties affecting another person thing.

God I'm so fucking tired.

There are so many other, better educated, better practiced, better tempered people who can handle this kind of discussion.

I hate having to be a queer elder for my own fucking family when I came to the community so late in life... especially when I have literally zero support among them.

"You just get so... so... mad."

"YEAH... BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE LITERALLY DYING BECAUSE OF THIS SHIT. WHY AREN'T YOU MAD!??!"

I think I may have to take a pass on meeting up with everyone for Christmas. If this is the direction it's gonna go again... I'm not sure I can handle it. My brother-in-law clearly wants to bait me into this shit and I don't have it in me to stay out of it.

I hope everyone had a better thanksgiving than this.

Love and solidarity.

Trans rights. Gay Rights. Reproductive Rights. Black Lives Matter. Land Back. All of this good stuff.

I just don't have the strength to handle all of it all of the time, and the world seems content to force me to do so more often than I'm able.

I could use a hug.

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letter-dream · 1 year ago

Text

J.W.

MDNI - NSFT ABCs of dating Dr. James Wilson.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He has a surprising array of high-end bath products and is always happy to slip in to use them with you after things get dirty.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes your eyes and lips. He loves your beautiful face and tells you often.

He had always liked his hands, but it wasn’t until you’d been together for a while that you told him the truth about his features. He came up behind you and wrapped his arm around you, his forearm landing between your throat and collarbone. You whispered something obscene about it, and he hasn’t rolled his sleeves down since.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He gave a lot of good reasons, and a few stupid ones, to let him finish while he was still inside you. He was entirely respectful when/if you declined.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You asked him to come to your place and feed your pet when you were out of town. He snooped around and kept a memento, a photo of you at a halloween party in college. He hopes you still have the naughty nurse outfit.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Thanks to a really messy game of Never Have I Ever, you learned the depths of how experienced he is. The look on his face when Greg took the game there was one of horror and agony. But by the end of the night, with your past equally exposed, he put his experience to use by teaching you a few things you didn’t even know you liked.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Your knees over his shoulders, or you sitting on a desk, table, or countertop. He gets off on watching the impact he has on you in your expression.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a romantic at heart but has a sense of humor when the situation calls for it. He is more concerned with your comfort.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? etc.)

He keeps things clean but rather natural. He was not amused when you asked if he blow-dries there, too.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

He loves to be close to you, face to face when possible, or with his face buried in your neck.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You caught him in a bidding war for a copy of the February 1965 edition of Playboy. He swears it is a collector’s item. You ask to see his “collection” and he shows you an album full of pristine copies. You still don’t know how he actually finds release on his own.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

James is pretty quick to shrug it off and say he’s not kinky. You believe it until you offer him some light praise and find out how eager he is to earn more of it.

L = Location (favorite places to do they do)

Your home, your couch, your bed. Everywhere that is ‘his’ can be too easily barged into.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Tell him you need him. Let him provide for your needs. Thank him. Even outside of the bedroom. He feels tall and useful when you ask him to reach the mug in the high cabinet. He feels like a stud when you ask him to hang the curtains in your room. And when you ask him to help unzip you out of your outfit, he cannot wait to come to your rescue.

In the middle of sex, begging and whining and asking for him to please you sends him into overdrive.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He may lick a little bit of brownie batter off of your finger in the kitchen, but taking food play to the bedroom is not his ideal.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He will never turn down the opportunity to be on the receiving end, but one thing we all know is that James is an exceptionally giving man. He’s talented, experienced, and eager to please.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s generous and giving, preferring to start slow. But he’s only human. When he gets lost in the moment, he takes his pleasure in your body quickly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You thought it would be a nice surprise to show up in his office for 15 minutes of fun. He was so happy to see you that he offered half of his lunch and told you all about the patient who was healing faster than expected. He didn’t even register that there wasn’t anything under your trench coat.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

You’re almost convinced he is a serial monogamist simply because he hates condoms. He won’t risk things when it’s casual, but he’s quick to make sure you have birth control once things become serious. He’s also not going to complain if you are adamant that he wear one. (PSA: be adamant about it, always, friends!)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He's busy and a little older than you. He’s one and done most nights, but on the occasional weekend away, he can still give you a marathon.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has picked up a few things through his years of experience, but nothing too outlandish. There was a really strange inflatable. He promised that it was a gift and a prank. You teased him about it relentlessly. Tired and a little turned on by the humiliation, he found your toys and kept them from you until you showed him what each one does to you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a massive tease. He needs to hear you beg for his touch, and he needs to be needed. Your whining when he teases is what keeps him feeling confident in himself as your lover.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not afraid to let you know how good he’s feeling, but not so loud that his neighbors know your name.

W = Wild card (a random dirty headcanon for the character)

If you’re worried about trying something new with James, stop. You don’t like the way your thighs jiggle in that position, and he’s mesmerized by it. You feel too exposed in a certain position; he’s not even looking in that direction. He’s enjoying your presence and the way your body feels against his. You have no unattractive parts.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His body is the very definition of average. It’s his attitude towards pleasing you that’s well above normal.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s busy and predictable. He’s a once or twice-a-week guy and takes care of himself in between. On a rare occasion, he may try to call you over to his place in the middle of the night.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

James needs a moment to catch his breath and cuddle before he gets into the shower. Once he’s feeling fresh and comfortable, he’s quick to fall asleep mid-pillow talk.

#did I have to use the gif that made him look like my awful politician ex?!#yes because I loved super damaged men #I guess

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frogmanfae · 11 months ago

Text

Mostly hcs, I'm not an Albert specialist but I have written about him a few times (most of which are not published)

Bordering youngest of the oldest group of newsies. Like if Jack is 17 and Elmer is 13 Albert is around 14-15

Youngest of 3 boys. His older brothers (who don't have commonly agreed upon names that I know of but I usually default to Robert and James because a plethora of reasons I don't remember) are 2 years apart in age from each other, but Albert is younger by 6 and 8 years respectively

It's pretty commonly believed that he has an unrequited crush on Race during the strike that may or may not have ended in a relationship with Finch but that's entirely up to different opinions on ships and stuff

Someone pointed out that he wears jeans in the production so that led me on a whole spiral about he could potentially work in the mines when he isn't selling papers but that's a whole other post I can link here

He really really really likes movies. Breaking into a theater is one of his favorite forms of illegal activity and he does it often

Modern Albert is definitely the kind of guy to never have shirts with sleeves, wear flannels around his waist, dark jeans, aviator sunglasses, the most worn down falling apart high tops you've ever laid eyes upon, and backwards caps and still say he isn't gay. He also has piercings and/or tattoos. This can translate into canon era as you so see fit.

He definitely grows the littlest bit of hair on his chin and thinks he's the bees knees

Also modern era, he really likes Marvel movies and Top Gun but specifically Top Gun: Maverick. Again, translate however you please

He will go to the grave swearing up and down that he's straight but he's got a little fruit in his cup

He likes to rough house but not with his brothers. His brothers are closer to each other in age so they usually team up against him and it feels too similar to the Delancey brothers sometimes. His brothers call him a number of wuss themed names every time he backs away

He's been in the refuge a bunch of times on charges ranging from sneaking into movies to stealing food to almost beating a guy to death. Here's some historically accurate New York House of Refuge facts if it's helpful

He has anger issues. Bad ones. Rage is a problem for him.

He has a necklace that he never takes off. A simple chain he stole. He'll tell people that it's better plain, but deep down he hopes he finds something special to hang on it one day that reminds him of someone he loves

Freckled Albert fot the win

He really doesn't see much of it from his permanent residence in the middle of industrial NYC circa 1899, but he really likes foliage. He once saw these bright orange and red flowers that he thought were really cool but he never saw them again. Of he and Sarah Jacobs ever meet, they would talk a lot about flowers

He likes to have that "bad boy I don't have a care about my appearance I barely even comb my hair" type vibe but the truth is he fusses over his hair for no less than 20 minutes a day

Soda addict. Needs no explanation.

Once in a while his skin will be too "clean" so he insinuates a fight to get a couple bruises. This is both so he looks "tougher" and so he's less likely to be targeted by the Delanceys. It's a pretty stupid thing to do

He has a bunch of scars that he makes up badass stories for but none of them are true. The truth is usually that he fell and his arm caught the corner of a nearby bedframe (or he fell out of the top bunk again)

He shares a bed with a friend most nights and say it's to cut costs (despite him having "a family to go home to") but really it's to feel a connection to somebody.

His mom died giving birth to him which made his father resent him and become an alcoholic and abusive towards him and his brothers. Lucky for them though he's most often absent

He gets crap for having red hair (it "doesn't bother him" but he wears his cap backwards to cover more of it)

King of calling people out on their bs while simultaneously being king of gaslighting people into believing his own bs

Does not know how tp flirt for the life of him its actually embarrassing to watch

I hope this helps!! Feel free to rb or DM me with any further questions, I love talking about him!

any Albert Dasilva lovers in chat?? any big Albert fans??? any advice or headcanons or whatever would b major appreciated bc im playing him in my theatre comps newsies prod! rehearsals start in January and I will def keep you all posted!

#newsies #livesies #albert dasilva #newsies live #headcanons

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undead-merman · 3 years ago

Note

Can I please request some bunny! Satan nsfw with a gn reader?

Thank you for all your works, I love reading them all!

Thanks. Someone else asked for the rest so here.

🐰Yandere Bunny Mammon, Leviathan, and Satan🐰 Mating Season GN - Reader NSFW

(Contains: Breeding Kink)

Mammon

Before Mating Season

Mammon is normally very unprepared for his Rut only ever noticing when it’s a day away or just as it starts. But now that you’re there he’s overprepared, much to his dismay, as his brothers tease him for it. Dozens of different kinds of healthy snacks, mineral waters, even creams for sores. He just wants to impress you even in ways like this.

He gets more moody than normal, getting angrier and more jealous of you. Yelling at anyone who even looks at you all while pulling you closer and shoving his face into you and guiding you away. He’s also extremely touchy, grabbing you playfully, smacking your ass, or even teasing your sex before backing away red faced, realizing what he did.

He’s much more forward asking you on dates and pulling you around or forcing himself into your room to spend time with you. He simply won’t leave you alone and anytime you wander off he whines and complains and practically throws himself at you. He simply monopolizes all of your time.

He steals a lot of your clothes and belongings and hides them in his room. When you need them he presents them to you with a wagging tail more like a dog than a rabbit telling you he got it for you so you don’t have to go far and push it onto you. He likes to keep one of your pillows in his hoard and hump into it while pretending it's you. He's scared to lose himself to his rut and doing something embarrassing or hurt you in some way. He thrusts into the pillow trying to elevate his building sexual frustration but it only gets him more worked up and craving you even more.

During Mating Season

When his Rut is a day or two away he gets far more aggressive with others looking at you then ever before and will drag you away and keep you locked up with him so your attention is only on him. He’ll just hold you, unwilling to let go. He nuzzles into your neck but slowly moves to more intimate spots, too lost in the feeling of you to realize his actions. He’s just begging you to love him and adore him, muttering in your skin with his eyes closed. His ears are shaking and tail is straight up.

His Rut hits him like a truck and he's all over you, placing open mouth kisses all over your body and his hands grip your hips tightly, but you can feel them shaking from his excitement and arousal. All embarrassment flies out the window and he’s trapping you under his body, panting heavily the idea of filling you until you're so fucked out, then driving you insane by continuing.

He takes an extra long time to prepare you, fingering you slowly and reslishing in the moans you make, almost a revenge of sorts for being so wonderful smelling right before his Rut. As he fingers you he’s grinding on any part of your body his hips come in contact with. He cums once or twice on you shivering while looking frustrated from not being satisfied at all and just getting more worked up.

Once he’s inside you, his ears are shaking wildly and he’s grinning from ear to ear as he suddenly pounds you until your legs shake with exhaustion. He’s covering your body in hickies and bite marks, but concentrating them in areas you both know will be noticeable afterwards. Mammon just happily grunts out how everyone will see just how much you belong together.

Even during breaks he likes to stay inside and just have you warm his cock, he desperately craves to stay inside of you. The way he casually talks about you being bred by him is embarrassing but he doesn’t even seem to notice just paying attention to if you need to eat or rest. After he’s right back into fucking you full and raw.

He loves any position he can put you in so long as he’s closely pressed to you he hates when you're too far from him and tugs you back in close to him.

After Mating Season

After his rut is over and his senses go back to normal he’s hiding himself under the sheets horrified and ashamed of all the embarrassing things he said and did; but if you try to stand he’ll suddenly burst from his cocoon, telling you to sit down and he’ll do whatever you need.

He takes some convincing to let you roam free again and when you’re allowed to leave he’s extremely protective of you and doesn’t even let his brothers look at you for too long and starts yelling at them as he pulls you into his arms using his entire body as a shield. He has a nasty kick befitting a rabbit he’s not afraid to use if anyone touches you.

He’s your one and only mate and he’s extremely boastful of it he uses you to brag and is so proud to call you his and the thought of him successfully breeding you makes him glow with excitement he’s constantly pestering you over and over to let him do it again. He swears that doing it with you gives him good luck and you're an amazing lucky charm.

Leviathan

Before Mating Season

Leviathan is absolutely horrified by his Rut and is one of the ones to overly prepare for it at least a month in advance and has a small anime themed backpack to hold all of his essentials in. He packs a ton of water bottles with a fruity flavored vitamin powder. He gets easily dehydrated so packing them is a must unless he wants to pass out.

He tries to keep it a secret as long as possible. His heart wouldn’t be able to handle the embarrassment after exposure, though he really really wants to spend his Rut with you. He keeps imagining it over and over and eventually he gets too worked up and has to mastrubate to his photo collection of you.

He has a hard time looking in your eyes but can’t look away from you. He’ll stare at the back of your head, trying to keep his breathing even, but looking away when you catch him staring. He pretends not to know what you're talking about. But if anyone gets close to you he’ll hunt them down and tear them to pieces in a jealous rage

During Mating Season

When it hits he tries to stay hidden in his room drooling over some clothes he stole and whimpering your name as he sniffs it and pumps it around his painfully hard dick his head filled with nothing but you and how much he wants to see his cum overflowing inside you and dripping down your legs. Eventually he can’t take it anymore and stops hiding, seeking you out and pulling you up on his hips and carrying you home making you wrap your legs around him and him burying his nose into you rubbing his scent into you.

Expect him to apologize over and over for ignoring you and him begging for you to forgive him. He was just embarrassed he’ll apologize by licking and stroking your sex trying to make you feel so good that you forget or forgive him. Then moving your entrance and swirling his tongue around it.

He presses into you, hard, as he grips your hips with surprising strength and makes you see stars as he hits every good spot you have, and even helps you discover some new ones. Every time he cums he asks you not to spill it and he pushes as deep as he could into you.

If you pull his ears you’ll see a switch flip inside of him and he’ll shiver with every thrust pulling into you over and over. His mind just goes blank and he just wants to cum inside you as much as possible. The instinct of breeding you is the only thing on his mind after that.

Once in a while he stops for a short break, hydrating but eating like a bird the whole time he’s snuggling up with you and weakly checking his phone while nuzzling into your collarbone. Bathing with him he sinks low into the bath so only above his nose stick out of the water relaxing for a few minutes before he tries to fuck you in the bath.

After Mating Season

He buries his face in a pillow and apologizes for being so avoidant before he offers you his jacket to keep you warm as he softly rubs your sore and weak legs and wipes a cool damp cloth to clean you up. He’s shockingly not as embarrassed as he thought he would be after he just feels happy.

He’s attentive, bringing you your favorite homemade meal or snacks trying to cutely feed it to you. He claims he doesn’t want to overexert you after everything. But he just wants to take cute pictures of you getting hand fed.

After everything calms down, you find him more confident in him asking you for things especially ear scratches he’s developed an addiction to having your hands on them.

Satan

Before Mating Season

He’s had this written down and planned for a while. He knew when to pinpoint it’s start and prepared for it more and more as it came closer. He knew his emotions would be all over the place so he made sure that you knew and were properly locked inside his room with him. He’d rather avoid the clean up after. If his previous Ruts have taught him anything it’s he knows how messy he can get with dealing with annoyances. So he has you locked up so you both can get ready and stay productive until the day.

He becomes very touchy way more than before, constantly brushing up on you and scenting you before going back to whatever he was last doing. He scents you by holding your face and rubbing his palms over your cheeks and lips as well as shoving his face into the crook of your neck and nuzzling it; however, as the days go by they get more and more lewd with light pinches and/or groping.

He has everything set up like it’s going to be a week-long get away. Drinks stored in cooling containers, quick and nourishing meals prepped and a cute little “toy” to get you ready for the days ahead, though preparation is key and he reminds you of that every time you cum from it.

When he sleeps he ends up nearly chewing on your neck and shoulder and he humps you as you both sleep. He ends up ripping a lot of your clothes and the sheets as he sleeps but he doesn’t seem sorry.

During Mating Season

Satan becomes almost animalistic as he smiles at you and rips your clothes off with his teeth and one hand and suddenly palms your sex as he grinds his hard cock into your ass. He rips his own clothes off and praises your body from the crown of your head to your toes before he hauls you off to his bed.

He’s glad for the forethought of using the toy since he can’t help himself and pulls it out slowly before stuffing you back up with his dick laughing with heavy breathes as he enjoys how warm you are around him.

If you let him, he’ll bind you up, wrists, ankles, and neck, bound with leather belts as he tugs you along, using his thumbs to roughly rub your chest, making you cum over and over again until your nipples are rubbed almost swollen. He loves seeing the marks after, kissing and licking them.

Appeal to his rougher side and ask for more or even rougher treatment and he’ll completely lose his mind for you and treat you as rough as you want. He’s nearly worshiping you as you take each punishment after the last. He’s sure to kiss every mark he makes just to remind you he’s doing this in love.

He instructs you to keep every little drop he cums inside you and if you don’t he’ll be sure to spank your ass red, afterwards for any that drips out, he pushes back in with his thumb.

During breaks he’s overly sweet, kissing every mark as you rest and petting your face over and over. Pet him back and he’ll lean into it with a large blissful smile, you’ve never seen him so relaxed.

After Mating Season

He’s right back to normal after what happened but he’s now tailing you everywhere, watching over you. He makes sure that no one gives you any trouble, ready to crush, smash and rip limb from limb anyone and anything that might potentially hurt you, his brothers are included on that list of things to crush. You're his mate now and he can’t let anything happen to you.

He brings you fresh snacks, packing you lunches, and offering to take care of anything he can for you. He wants to keep you happy and in good spirits and seeing you content and taken care of makes his heart beat wildly.

He scents you even more, nuzzling you wherever he can get to and covering you with his smell. When you're alone he rests his chin on your head and just embraces you, he wasn’t a huge fan of showing affection before but when you're out of public view he’s all over you.

For at least a week he’s in a wonderful mood after spending his Rut with you, his smile dazzling and he openly admits that he’d now rather just have you in his room. You get to have a choice to stay in his room free to roam around it or you stay by Satan's side at all times. You get to pick your collar at least.

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me monster headcanons #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #yandere mammon #yandere leviathan #yandere satan

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missmeinyourbones · 3 years ago

Note

for your event <3 armin + "for the first time i had something to lose" :)

“FOR THE FIRST TIME I HAD SOMETHING TO LOSE” (A. ARLERT)

part of L’s RED (TV) EVENT!

When you returned from running errands, your place smelt of lemon scented cleaning products—an aroma you were very familiar with, knowing that Armin officially deemed Sundays as cleaning days. You place your keys into their designated bowl as you lock the front door behind you, scanning your surroundings for a certain blue-eyed suitor.

You find him in your bedroom, cleaning out a cluttered box that usually sits hidden beneath your shared bed. Junk of all sorts is splayed out all across the carpet; from old Pokémon cards he’s collected over the years to random receipts he’s hoarded in case he ever needed to return an item (something he’s never done).

Entranced in his own little world of nostalgia, he finally notices your presence as you sit down beside him, fingers softly massaging themselves into his hair.

“Oh, hi love,” he says softy. You kiss him as a greeting, and the two of you silently sort through the contents of the box together for a while.

He interrupts the comfortable silence with an order, “Can you pass me that, please?”

He’s motioning to a picture frame next to you, discarded on the floor along with many other miscellaneous items. You grab it and hand it to him, but not without taking a moment to observe the photo underneath the glass. It’s a heartwarming image of the two of you, Sasha, and Jean, taken from one of your many nights out. You seem to be in a bar, but you can’t recall the name of it.

You can’t remember that specific night at all, actually, as you hand the frame to your lover. However, the image does cause you to recall another memory.

“Remember the first time I met your friends?” you ask him, watching his face visually turn into a grimace as he shakes his head, scornfully.

“Yeah, I don’t think I could forget something as traumatic as that.”

“Oh please—you’re so dramatic, it wasn’t even that bad.”

“Yes, it was,” he insists, propping the framed photo up and onto your bookshelf.

His eyes roll at the memory being awakened within him, “I had been pestering Eren for weeks in advance, telling him not to do anything stupid around you. It’s like I was training him for you.” He cracks a smile at his recollection of Eren swearing to be on his best behavior for your honor.

“So when him and Connie almost decapitated you with their dart-throwing competition,” he says causally, making you snort with laughter, “I was mortified.”

You shake your head thinking about the boys antics. Sure, they were a lot to handle, but they were kind and welcoming. It was a memory you held dear to your heart, not knowing the beautiful relationship it would lead to.

You place your head on his shoulder where it seems to rest perfectly, “Why were you so worried?”

“Well,” Armin sighs, closing up the now neatly-organized box, “For the first time I had something to lose," he admits. He feels the weight of your head tilt on his shoulder, meaning your interest has been piqued. “I wanted them to make a good impression, so all of my favorite people could like one another,” he insists, remembering how nauseous he was while planning the event, “I didn’t want their weirdness scaring you away or anything.”

You look up and smile at him, always so loving and thoughtful. You’d have been a fool to not fall for him, whether his friends were lunatics or not. “Well it didn’t, ‘cause they were hilarious,” you say against his skin. “And anyways, I already knew how weird you were.”

“What? How?” he panics, face already reddening at his mental list of potential things you could say right now.

“Armin, you brought your own silverware to the restaurant on our first date. No one normal does that,” you peck his cheek, feeling his skin get hot almost instantly at your touch.

He attempts to hide his face in his collar out of embarrassment, but you refuse to let him as you nuzzle closer into his neck.

“Don’t worry, I thought it was cute,” you reassure him, “And if that didn’t scare me away, I don’t think anything can.”

NOTE: this was another pairing that was such a good match omfg. armin + holy ground??? imagine him dancing around to it. rn. OMFG hes so cute i had so much fun w this one

#armin arlert #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin fic #armin arlert fic #armin fluff #armin arlert fluff #armin drabble #armin arlert drabble #armin blurb #armin arlert blurb #L's RED (TV) event!

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pen-observing · 3 years ago

Text

request: how lucifer, mammon, satan, belphegor and diavolo react and find out about you having 'I now own your soul' under the terms and conditions of a webpage.

Lucifer:

While Lucifer is certainly busy all the time, and tries to balance it by having you in his study as he works, he can’t hide how tired he has actually been for the past 4 weeks.

All you know is that Diavolo has made the meetings more frequent and they are taking a toll on him

And since he means that much to you, regardless of if you wish to acknowledge it or not, you have to ask what is going on once he stands up and walks over to reach for another bottle from his shelf Lucifer does not drink that often and he certainly doesn’t try to avoid work by drinking.

Just what could be making him act this way?

“Lucifer, you have to tell me what is going on.”

He stands on his side of the desk just pouring another glass down.

Curse him for being elegant and showing his forearms while doing so!

And then he dares to look at you with full focus and furrowed eyebrows and he is about to say something and he looks like-

‘no. You are human.’

Fuck.

“Come on! You know I won’t tell anyone!”

He does trust you at least after so long.

"Very well. I will tell you since it has something to do with a human. If, by any chance, you spread the information, the price you pay will be a heavy one."

He can’t intimidate you that much but you know when he is serious.

"You see, recently, Diavolo has had more issues than ever with someone we like to call ‘code soul stealer"

“Uhn,, and that is?”

He takes a sip of his drink and holds the glass while looking at you.

“Apparently, a pesky human added ‘I now own your soul’ in their terms and conditions on a web page and some application. With this, they have stolen many souls and Diavolo has grown even more concerned these past few weeks since the page is just gaining popularity.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Thats you that he is calling a pesky human! You only did it as a joke because you saw a meme! It wasn’t supposed to make an enemy out of you to the prince of hell!

How are you supposed to tell Lucifer that? How will he react?

Maybe if you do tell him it will actually create more good than harm?

Or, you could hide it for the rest of your life and- no! The honest way with Lucifer is the best way. He trusts you enough so you have to trust him too!

“Lucifer...I am the pesky human you are referring to...”

He drops the glass.

“I swear I had no idea souls were actually real and now I own a lot of them! O-On the good side I went viral 4 weeks ago so...oh, that is why you’ve been so busy....sorry.”

Lucifer says nothing.

He just falls into the chair in the most dramatic way you’ve ever seen.

He covers his face with both hands and groans into them loudly.

If you were not ‘code soul stealer’ you would laugh at him right now. But he has to figure out a way to protect you now.

Mammon:

You see, dating Mammon means that you two will bicker plenty.

However, it is usually silly stuff that you bicker about like; are gold or silver lines better on this cup of tea or not?

He just loves you too much to get into a serious argument with you.

However, Levi dragged you both to play a spy/heist game that just came out and Mammon cannot accept to lose such a challenge.

He is not proud that people call him thief, but he is proud and believes he has the skills to back up his many enrichment-plans

So the fact that you won against him for 3 times in a row is UNNACCEPTABLE under this dark, dark sky.

Mammon denies it all. ‘i went easy on you’; ‘I did it cuz you are happy when you win’ and ‘please, don’t you know who I am? I am THE Mammon!”

And while he is cute while bickering, sometimes it becomes unbearable.

So, you do what any normal human would: you challenge him by listing your biggest ‘heist’ ever.

“You don’t know who you are talking to! I have created a heist unlike any other! I have stolen a million souls so far! The DevilTV refers to me as – unstoppable soul collector!”

Levi left long ago so Mammon is standing there completely stunned with the stupidest look on his face so far. He kind of looks like a blowfish.

Still, he runs and puts a hand over your mouth and whispers:

“Don’t yell! We don’t want others to know that we run that business!”

Excuse him? Who is this –we- he speaks of?

“You will add your boyfriend to those plans, won’t you?”

Mammon will not let shock stand in the way of money or souls. You can explain to him how you managed that later but for now – just add him as your accomplice.

Satan:

You love your boyfriend.

You really, really do.

You love seeing him so excited and focused on finding clues to the newest Devildom mystery that you chose to let him have his fun by not telling him YOU were the one he was searching for.

And while you love him that much, you are about to ruin the whole game.

Why does he think it is appropriate to own 48 pairs of the same Sherlock Holmes outfit with THE UGLIEST MATCHING HATS YOU HAVE EVER LAID YOUR EYES ON.

First, he wore them in his ‘detective office’ only. Also known as the Lamentation house storage room for cleaning products. And that was fine, it was.

But then he started to wear them inside the house and in the garden. The saddest day was when a cat knocked the ugly hat off and ran away with it. Oh praise that cat! Praise the little paws!

However, he has gone too far.

He knows no bounds and shows no signs of stopping.

He started wearing the outfits OUTSIDE! In the middle of cobblestone paths of the main street while you were trying to have a nice date!

"Who knows where the soul snatching culprit could be hiding? I must wear this outfit everywhere to catch their clues. Trust me.”

That is it.

If one more iguana-looking-ass demon points their finger at you two and snickers as you walk past – he will have a rude wake up call.

How is it possible that he is trying to catch the culprit that is you but doesn’t pay any attention to you?

So, when you arrive home and he walks into the mop closet to add another unrelated photo to his crazy whiteboard as a clue – you tell him to sit down for a moment.

“Satan, honey, I have something to tell you about your soul snatching culprit.”

That definitely got his attention.

Finally! He is actually looking at you!

You lean down and gently kiss his head.

“I am the culprit you’re looking for. How does it feel to completely miss something right under your nose?”

He freezes up and throws a pen towards the whiteboard. It just bounces off and hits him in the back.

“You....you mean to tell me that,,, the biggest Devil Mystery TV phenomenon is ACTUALLY YOU?”

You are met with complete disbelief. Satan demands a detailed explanation on how you did it. He even tells you to use his whiteboard to retrace your steps!

...good luck...

Belphegor:

Will Belphegor ever actually publicly say that he has changed because of you? No.

Will he ever actually admit that to other brothers besides Beel when they’re talking in the late hours of the night in their room? Oh, absolutely not.

Will he tell you? Yes.

Yes but.. He will leave something out.

Sometimes Belphie looks at how you smile and remembers things that make him famous in this realm.

Yes, he is one of the most powerful demons and yes, he has a reputation of rebellion and the biggest steak of unattendance in RAD but

He is also a fairly famous scholar.

His papers and research are cited on the regular.

But when you smile and say a witty joke – he remembers that most of them focus around him proving just how dumb or naïve humans actually are.

But, you’re human and he hopes that you never see those.

Except that you do.

Because he is so famous it is no surprise that while looking for research papers to reference for your next assignment you saw his name while browsing through

And while you love him - you will not allow him to just diss the whole mankind.

So, you grab one of them from the library. Walk home, go to the attic while he is napping and open it up, putting it right on his face.

It takes a couple of seconds but he feels something is wrong and his hand reaches for it.

When he pulls it away, he is met with his thesis that was further developed from the seduction speech class assignment.

It sets it up as: ‘Seduction speech as a matter of blatant deception that humans always fall for but could never recreate.’

You are not even that mad at it to be honest.

But proving him wrong is always fun. And little does he know about your biggest secret ever.

“I will cut right to the chase and say – fix your bangs I want to see the way your eyes look when I tell you this!”

“I wonder who messed up my bangs with the academic paper in the first place?” is what he replies but his hand is already on his forehead.

“Whatever. Prepare to be amazed! I am the one the elders of the devildom are always ranting about on TV! Yes, I am the ‘pesky little human’ who is stealing away ‘edible’ souls! How is that for your thesis now? Is that not true deception?!”

He likes your smile still. You’re standing in front of the bed looking at him with sparkling eyes and clenched fists while striking a pose. It is silly really but he smiles.

Because you are.

And while he will ask you a bit more about that claim, he is just happy to know that maybe his next academic paper (which everyone eagerly awaits) will be tad more positive to your kind.

Diavolo:

You got an urgent call from Barbatos.

On the doorstep he told you that Diavolo needs you in his study.

What could you do that Barbatos can’t and will help Diavolo? Does such a thing even exist?

You walk inside of his office and are pretty sure Barbatos did not want to go inside because of the fact that a rat could be hiding under the mountain of papers that are all around the room.

Usually, Diavolo immediately stands up, lights up the room with his smile and stretches out his hands for a hug.

Now? He hears the doors open and looks at you with a weak smile while his head is resting on his elbows from behind the desk.

He has never looked worse.

“Barbatos said you called for me?”

You are unsure where to begin with this so you state a fact while thinking of questions to ask.

“He has? I have done no such thing?”

Great. Now both of you are confused.

“Can you tell me what is going on?”

Diavolo sighs and his smile is still nowhere to be seen.

“The elders have been so annoying lately. I understand that the biggest threat to the Devildom and everyone’s life here still has not been identified but there is nothing I can do except search!”

Just what threat is that? What could be making Diavolo so miserable?

“They keep comparing me to my father without actually offering any ways of fixing this!”

“I will try to offer some way if you tell me what the threat is!”

There you are, making a grand exclamation and promise while trying to avoid papers on the floor. Diavolo sighs again.

“A human is ruining our business! They somehow set up a page that allowed them to own souls by consent in some application under the terms and conditions. I mean, this has never happened before! Humans were never expected to think of that or have access to such means! And the name they used was fake. How am I supposed to find them and then burn them in the darkest pits of hell as the elders want me to?”

You stop trying to avoid the papers.

Did...did he just say darkest pits of hell? Did he just say the elders want YOU burned?!

How are you supposed to fix this? It was a fucking joke! You did not imagine this could ever happen!

“Diavolo you promised you would protect me no matter what, right?”

His eyes are serious when you say that. “Yes. I will. Is something amiss?”

“Diavolo.... I am the enemy your elders want to burn.. PLEASE DON’T LET THEM! MY SKIN JUST ADJUSTED TO THIS TEMPERATURE!”

Diavolo looks at you and laughs like never before. It is cute, it is childlike. His laugh finally lights up the room.

He thinks you are joking.

He thinks you are joking and abruptly stops once he realizes that you did not join in on the laugh.

You were just trying to crack a joke and make him feel better, right? There is no way that is true, right? But judging from your reaction he knows it is.

So, he grows serious once more.

He runs to embrace you.

“Please tell me you are willing to make a compromise because the elders do not care about how your skin adjusts to the temperature.”

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flowerwrites06 · 4 years ago

Text

break my mind’s eye I — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings: drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution

Authors Note: finally i was able to conclude that bmme can be reposted!! please welcome back this precious gem of mine

The first time she saw was before one of her fashion shows. Small event compared to the likes of Gucci or Louis Vuitton but for her the biggest night of her life was about to happen. Unfortunately minutes before the show started, Belle got a call from her uncle to pick Taehyung up from their place and his tone sounded utterly bleak.

Walking away from a highly angered manager she rushed off to pick him up only to find him sitting outside on the porch in the cold wind, laughing a little to himself before swearing at no one. It was the first day Belle found out the things he had been taking.

Weed, ecstasy…she even found a small bag of cocaine hidden in his hoodie after getting him cleaned up.

“Where the hell did you get money for cocaine?” Belle tried to search his expression but Taehyung was too busy stumbling as he finally fell onto her bed.

“I know a guy. I promised to pay him back soon.” Taehyung mumbled turning to rest on his back, his limbs refused to stay still to a point where Belle started to get annoyed.

“Tae, how much do you owe this guy?” She asked, heart thumping a little knowing cocaine especially was not inexpensive and that mixed with other drugs…

His body being ruined was one heart-wrenching thing but she dreaded the amount of money this all cost.

Her brother stayed silent closing his eyes to let out a few breaths which caused her blood to boil even more.

Belle understood why Taehyung turned to something so putrid to relieve him of their recent troubles. There was a moment in time where she even thought to do so, maybe to ease some of the pain of they both went through. But it was getting out of hand.

The next morning Belle fixed him up a proper breakfast to distract him from taking another dose of the things he bought. Or was loaned anyway since he didn’t have a job or savings to pay for any of the products she found.

Taehyung didn’t even come to the table.

Instead as she walked towards the bedroom, she found him shirtless snorting something up his nose as he quickly threw his head back. Just hearing his sigh of relief made Belles’ stomach churn to near sickness.

Fuming, Belle grabbed whatever pieces of his stash she could find on the table and threw it in the bin pushing it away when he tried to savor anything that could be fished out. She saw his eyes widen so much that it almost seemed his eyeballs were going to fall on his hand.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Taehyung yelled, voice growly while his nose still had remnants of white powder dripping and his eyes bloodshot more than ever. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get shit like that?!”

“I don’t care, you’re done with this!” Belle stood her ground but kept her voice calm, her own glossy eyes fixated on his.

“You don’t fucking get it!” Taehyung winced, face contorting it looked like he was about to cry. “I need it, okay? And I got that shit from a guy that works in the Jeon Cartel!” He gestured over to the entrance of the apartment. “I can’t ask for anymore, I haven’t paid for anything.” He yanked at his hair whining under his breath like a spoiled child not getting the toy he wanted.

Belle shook her head slightly, tears forming at the brim of her eyes. “Tae…” Her voice grew shakier now. “How much do you owe them?” Her bottom lip quivered watching his chest rise and fall heavily.

He stayed silent averting his gaze.

“Taehyung.” Her tone quickly turned firm though her heart pounded painfully. “How much do you owe them?” Belle truly hated acting like the oldest between the two.

Taehyung used to take care of her every single day almost more than her own parents since they mostly focused on their oldest son because he had ‘a lot more potential’. Her stomach ached looking at all the potential slowly going down the drain right in front of her eyes.

“A few hundred…six…maybe seven…” Taehyung muttered trying not to look directly at her when he spoke. He probably knew exactly the kind of shock gripped her face and he was damn right.

Belles’ entire body turned cold, her fingers almost wanting to fish out the substances herself just knowing how much money it cost to get it. But she curled them up into fists wanting to look strong. “I don’t…know how it feels…I do know it hurts and I know why you’re doing this but…I can’t lose you too.” She whispered, vision getting blurry as a lump grew in her throat. “You’re my big brother, you’ve always looked after me.”

Taehyung bit down his bottom lip lowering his head in slight shame.

“Please let me look after you.” She pleaded in a whisper trying to search his expression, to see any sense of softness or thought.

Her brother sobbed a little, running his shaky fingers through his matted hair before nodding but still trying not to meet her gaze. “Okay.”

Belle let out a trembling sigh of relief, a tear escaping slowly down her cheek when she finally relaxed. “I have savings you can use to pay for the drugs you asked for.” She stated in a gentle tone this time as Taehyung stared at her, shaking his head.

“That’s your boutique money, you can’t—”

“Yes I can.” She forced a smile across her face to reassure him. “My boutique can wait. I want you to get better.”

Taehyung gulped down carefully padding over his sister before leaning his head on her shoulder at an attempt of a lazy hug. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered against the fabric of her sweater, a light whimper under his breath. “Thank you.”

The chill that spread through her body now warmed up as she wrapped her arms around her brother, feeling like the younger sister if only for a second. “Who do we have to pay?” Belle asked sniffling a little.

“My debts’ too high…” Taehyungs’ grip tightened around the girl. “…the guy who gave me the drugs tells me I need to go straight to the boss for questioning if I come back again.”

Oh god, Taehyung…what did you get yourself into?

Much to Taehyungs’ discontent, Belle insisted on coming with him with the envelope of the payment in her hand. She figured cash would be more believable instead of bank transferring especially since there was so much money piled up for just debt. Her older brother looked at her a little surprised at how well she knew how to maneuver these things. “Being in the fashion industry doesn’t just mean I draw and sew clothes, you know.” She replied simply as she drove the both of them to the address Taehyungs’ guy told him to go.

During the trip she wanted to mention how sneaky it was to just give them the address and not come along. But then again…this wasn’t exactly an ethical business to begin with.

Of course it wasn’t difficult in the slightest to find the Jeon household considering it was on the outskirts of the city. A large sandstone colored mansion with vines growing off of the sides and golden detail on the windows and pillars. They drove in front of the closed entrance where Taehyung told them his name and that he was being expected which thankfully caused the large gate to slide open with a painful screech sound.

Heart pounded so hard it could have ripped out of her ribcages, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her palms a little sweaty. The guards lined up in front of the door with their suits and shades making her homemade white floral dress look like peasants work. Even from here she could recognize that those uniforms were not made from some random ordinary designer. Even though the design itself was quite ordinary.

Taehyung walked out of the car first before Belle followed suit.

As soon as she walked out, one of the guards held his hand out.

“Ma’am, the boss requests that you give away your car in the duration of the meeting.” He spoke in a robotic tone.

Belle wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her directly since the shades were so dark but she gave him her car keys anyway. The feeling of emptiness eerily seeping through her already nerve-wracked body. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Taehyung must be feeling around all of this.

They were led into the mansion by three guards. The entrance was really just a big hall that stretched across the whole expanse of the building. When they passed a large open archway then Belle could see the furnished details; a few couches circled around in the middle of the large space with the fireplace behind the sitting, a bar on the far right with some maids tending to the dust while there were stairs on the left leading to the upper level.

Why would they want meet them personally for a few hundred dollars? It looked like a small loss looking at the quality of this whole building down to the outfits their guards were wearing.

Maybe it was more greed than the amount of the money.

“Please be seated. Master Jeon will speak to you shortly.” The same guard declared before moving back to his post and standing there like a statue.

Taehyung and Belle sat at the couch that faced the fireplace. Thankfully the maids were kind enough to turn it on since she hadn’t realized how cool it was going to be in the house. They offered them tea which they both turned down. An empty stomach meant less likely for her to throw up from the anxiousness. Taehyung, on the other hand, lost interest for food altogether barely eating anything but crumbs.

She noticed the hollowness of his cheeks and the darkness under his eyes. How long had it been since she saw a smile stretching across his lips? Taehyung used to be filled with light and passion beyond anything Belle had ever seen. He was the reason she pushed herself to pursue her own dreams despite the side-eyes from their parents. He defended her passion. He protected from unfair treatment always giving her shine he thought she deserved.

Now Belle had to repay the favor. She needed to encourage her brother to restart his path back to one that made him happy instead of one that slowly destroyed him to the core.

Footsteps brought her back out from her thoughts, eyes trailing over to the stairs. A tall built figure dressed in an all-white suit with a button-up shirt to match, loosely done up so his gold necklace could glimmer in the light. Belle noticed the gold cufflinks shimmering from his wrists. Hair styled somewhat neatly with a side part and strands hovering his eye when he moved, lips a rosy hue and his face looked for younger than she expected.

When people said ‘drug lord’ she imagined a stumpy old creep with similar attire except traditionally unkempt with facial hair and untrimmed chest hair that hung over their shirts.

Despite his pleasant appearance, Belle was not going to be blinded to the fact that this man thrived off of her brothers’ suffering.

The man finally met her gaze after only glancing a little at Taehyung before sitting down on the couch in front of them. Legs spread apart ever so slightly, he leaned back with one of his arms extended out. “Mr. Kim.” He spoke in a soft tone, eyes going back to her older brother now. “Do you recognize who I am?” He searched his expression.

Taehyung kept his head lowered but nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Who am I?” He pressed on like a father calmly scolding his child.

“M-Master Jeon Jungkook…” He muttered helplessly almost glancing up to meet his gaze but quickly looking down once again.

“So you do know…” Jungkook nodded, pressing his lips together. “Here I was thinking you consider me a joke. Taking bags and bags of my products while assuming I won’t try to track you down. Is that you what you thought of me?” His tone grew firmer.

Unlike Taehyung, Belle kept her head up, maintaining her gaze on the stranger. It seemed like Jungkook had a good eye for noticing when he flickered over to look at her instead.

“No, sir.” Taehyung shook his head frantically. “I-I just n-needed to get my money together.” He explained in a shaky voice not noticing that his precious ‘sir’ was staring at Belle a lot longer than she was comfortable.

Maybe he was waiting for her to duck her head down like her older brother.

The urge to do so was stronger than ever but Belle persisted. Until Jungkook glanced over at Taehyung again.

Her brothers’ fingers trembled violently at this point. Belle itched to comfort him somehow but she wanted him to try and face on his own to some extent. Coming here and sitting next to him was already being far too lenient but she couldn’t let him do this completely alone. Not when the healing process was so fresh and people like Jungkook would do anything to make sure he stayed addicted.

“Where’s the money?” Jungkook gestured towards him.

Belle took a small breath, placing the envelope on her lap onto the glass coffee table. “One of your men said he owed seven hundred.” She spoke up now trying to keep her voice as steady as possible even though her heart was beating out of control. “The envelope has eight just in case he wasn’t accurate.” A chilly feeling brushed over her body when her savings just sat there on the coffee table. Nothing but petty money for Jungkook but to her, it was the only way she could afford the vacant building in the city for her boutique.

“And you are?”

“His sister.” She muttered, glancing over at Taehyung who let out a deep sigh.

Jungkook stared down at the thick envelope for a few minutes with a raised brow. “Jongho…” He curled his fingers in towards a guard who quickly rushed over to stand beside him. “Please escort Mr. Kim to the second living room for a moment. I’d like to have a word with Ms…”

“Belle.”

“Belle…” The corner of his lip curled up before he gestured again towards the man called Jongho and he immediately led Taehyung away from them.

Belles’ heart raced seeing his helpless face looking back at her not sure if he was trying to apologize or if he was terrified of why they were being separated. “Why’re you taking him away?” She asked, being as polite as possible but her tightening fists told a different story.

“I’m not going to hurt him.” Jungkook murmured. He leaned in to rest his elbows on his knees, eyes searching her expression closely. “I thought it’d be better if I had a private conversation with a more steady minded person rather than your brother.” He nodded behind her.

Her brows furrowed glancing down at the closed envelope before staring up at him. “We got you the money, why do we need to have a conversation?” Belle’s voice was low just enough for only Jungkook to hear and no one else. Not that she could raise her voice even if she tried from how closed up her throat was.

“Because I’m honorable to an extent but I also hate people taking advantage of my kindness.” Jungkook shrugged lightly. “Your brother had been freely given all the products he consumed and he waited three months to give me my payment.” He let his sentence linger in the air to add more effect. “Three months of losing product and receiving no profit in return is not a risk I like making, Belle. Nor do I want to make it again.”

“So…what’re you saying?” Belle thought of the worst possible scenarios. Would they take Taehyung away and punish him? Or kill him? Was he being punished right now and Jungkook was just lying to prevent a scene? She watched his soft eyes trail up and down her form trying to be subtle but Belle caught it immediately feeling the urge to hide away into the couch.

“I’m saying the deal’s changed.” Jungkook declared in the most casual way like you would cancel a simple outing to the mall. “Look I can get money anytime I want to…you know that, don’t you?” He tilted his head a little searching her features. “I asked for this personal meeting on the basis of principle. Taehyung and many people like him need to understand that we stand by codes just as much as anyone. I’m not a money pig that just drools and accepts cash when it’s given to me.” He raised a brow.

Belle winced lightly, shaking her head. “Then why are we here? What do you want?”

Jungkook did nothing for a minute and gave her a soft smile. “Something he can take a little more seriously than cash…well—someone.”

Blood drained from her body from her aching head to her toes. Belle pierced into his smug gaze hoping…praying that he didn’t meant what she thought. The last thing she ever looked to be afraid of but now became the ultimate bane of her visit.

A visit thought to be quick and sweet with cash exchanged. How could she be surprised? These people wanted so much but still asked for more. What more could she expect from the man that took just to have the power to take some more? “Taehyung’s a good man.” She whispered. “He won’t do this again.”

“That’s what a lot of people tell me for years about their relatives or friends, Belle.” Jungkook murmured under his breath keeping the conversation to themselves despite the maids and guards standing around. “My grandfather heard it…my father heard it…every single time those people come back begging for more and then we get blamed for the dead bodies.” He sighed in slight defeat but she didn’t buy it in the slightest.

There was nothing noble about this request. If he were any other man gaining the audacity to say something like this, he would expect a hard punch on his nose. Except now it wasn’t just her own safety in question. Nor was Jungkook any ordinary man who could be taken by police or a punch looking at his build. “What am I supposed to do?” Belle murmured, heat flushing in her body making her more exasperated than grateful at the running fireplace.

Once again, a smile stretched across Jungkooks’ rosy lips. If it were taken out of context you’d think he was some sweet boy admiring something. But the reality was far from that lie. “You’re not going to be my prisoner, if that’s what you’re asking.” He smiled a little wider, eyes glimmering. “I’m not that evil.”

Debatable.

“You’re a lot more intelligent than you let on.”

“You just met me.”

“But I meet a lot of people…a little too many. So I tend to rely on first impressions and hope I’m right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“And if you’re wrong?”

He chuckled under his breath gesturing over to his guards. “They’re not there for decoration…and I don’t always negotiate like this. I’m just having a good day.” She saw his expression grow dark but the smile still remained making him look utterly sinister.

Visions of Taehyung tied to a chair, sobbing flashed across her mind making her mentally slap herself back to reality. She couldn’t look weak in front of him of all people. That’s what he wanted…for people to cower in front of him as he spewed his threats around to get everything he asked for. But denying him completely and storming out wouldn’t exactly be the smartest decision either considering she didn’t actually know where her brother was. The mansion was still mystery to her and Jungkook could easily hurt any of them as he so subtly stated with that stupid, fucking smile.

“So…what do you say, Belle? Do we have an accord?”

Taehyung was led back into the main living room, slightly yanking off of Jongho’ grasp and giving him a glare when he walked away. He looked over at Belle, her back facing him standing in front of Jungkook. “Belle?”

Belle looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile as she walked closer. She let out a sigh of relief seeing no sign of injury on the older male.

“Did he do something to you?” After the longest time, Taehyung sounded like an older brother again looking after Belle whenever she looked the slightest bit distressed. “What did he say?” He whispered.

She stayed silent, gaze lowered to look at his T-shirt before flickering up to force a smile at him. “It’s going to be okay.” Belle murmured. “He even offered to pay for your rehabilitation and get you back on your feet.”

Brows furrowed now gaining the urge to glance over at Jungkook but he couldn’t seem to stop searching his sisters’ expression. “Why would he want to pay for—”

“I told him to.” Belle gulped, smile fading away into a small frown.

“Belle, we can’t pay him back for all of that.” Taehyung held onto her bare arms feeling the cold skin underneath his.

She nodded. “Yes we can. He’s only asking for one thing.”

“…What?” He whispered.

Belle bit down her bottom lip, chin quivering a little before she smiled again even though her eyes grew glossy. “He wants me.”

Taehyungs’ heart plummeted making his whole body feel heavy. “No…” He shook his head, grip tightening around her arms as if she was going to disappear if he let go. “He can’t do that.”

“I agreed.”

“Belle!” It was more a loud whisper than anything but it managed to turn a few heads. “He’s going t—”

“I know what he’s going to do.” Belle rubbed his chest soothingly. “But this is the only way I can help you.”

“You have the money, why won’t he take it?” He gestured towards the envelope on the coffee table which now looked long forgotten.

Belle lowered her gaze. “Because he thinks you’ll just do it all again. He doesn’t trust you.”

“And you trust him?” Taehyung retorted causing heat to bubble up inside Belle.

“I trust you to do your part in this promise.” She tightened her jaw, wincing as the lump in her throat grew painful. “Unless you have a better idea to escape a pissed off drug lord then you will do this.” Tears flooded at her eyes threatening to escape but her gaze persisted on him. “Please promise me you’ll try to get better from now on.” Her lips quivered. “I didn’t know how else to help you. But now you need to help me. You need to heal and get back on your feet.”

Taehyung brushed against his fingers through the hair rested on her shoulder. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Belle shook her head as an attempt to reassure him but he didn’t look at all convinced. “I’ll be fine.” She smiled faintly, a few tears escaping down her cheeks which he wiped off gently.

“I’m so sorry…” He whimpered, fingers curling around her hair. “This is all my fault, I should’ve just come here on my own.”

“He would’ve killed you.”

“But you’d be happy.”

Belle chuckled sadly. “You really think I’d be happy if I lost you?”

“But you wouldn’t be here.” Taehyung side glanced over at the guards who looked completely unfazed by the whole ordeal while Jungkook had his back turned to them, gazing out into the garden outside.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” Belle wasn’t sure if that was directed at her brother or herself. Was this meant to be her big fork in the road? The path she was supposed to determine her whole life. Maybe her parents were right. Maybe she was amount to only one thing… but she’d be caught dead before she cowered begging before people like Jungkook. If he wanted her then he could have her. But he’d be an idiot to think she wasn’t going to use that to her own advantage one day. “We’re allowed to see each other so you’re not losing me, okay? I’ll be there whenever you need me.”

Taehyung sighed in frustration averting his gaze, boring holes in the back of Jungkooks’ head with his glare. “I want to kill him.”

“Then we’ll never get out of here.” Belle replied simply.

Finally Taehyung succumbed to his sisters’ wishes, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead before letting go, physically deflating as he was led out of the mansion by one of the guards.

One of them, same Jongho walked over to her. “I’ll drive him back safely, Ms. Kim.” He gave her a reassuring smile before following Taehyung out of the mansion.

The double doors closed blocking out whatever light that came from it leaving her empty.

“Taehyung will call you when he gets home. So you know he’s safe.” Jungkook spoke up now in a gentle tone but Belle kept her back to him. “And your personal belongings will be moved here in a few days.”

She licked her lips before lowering her gaze, letting a few silent sobs before wiping the tears away. “Where can I freshen up?” Belle looked down at her fingers seeing the light mascara smudges, trying to wipe at the corners of his eyes to wipe any traces away.

Jungkook seemed like he gestured towards one of the maids because a kind looking woman padded over and touched her on the shoulder.

Her grey hair wrapped up in a bun and the smile lines around her face showed when she gave her a sweet grin, making her look like the only person that seemed somewhat trustworthy in this building. “Let’s go upstairs, dear.” She held onto her arms and led her towards the stairs. “I’ll get some new clothes sent up as well.”

Belle didn’t glance at Jungkook but she could feel his gaze on her when she was led up the stairs to the now shared master bedroom.

Similar to what a hotel suite would look like, the master bedroom adorned a modern design with an opaque black curtains drawn to keep the room cool and ambient with the warm lights. A king-sized bed with classic white sheets with some gold detail matching the aesthetic of the whole mansion itself. There was a marble partition that had a small gap on the bottom with a modern looking fireplace on to keep the room warm, situated on the immediate left when they walked in.

On the other side of the partition was a desk with a closed laptop and some files. Another open archway on the right that led to a walk-in-wardrobe with lit up shelves that accentuated all the different shoes and shirts.

Upon walking through the archway into the wardrobe, on the right, there was the private bathroom just as big as every other small area in the monster of a bedroom.

Belle was led into the bathroom by the kind maid where she saw a shower that could have been the size of her laundry room, a sink just in front of it with a bathtub on the far end. The white bathtub contrasted against the grey marble floor with a large window that showed a forest-like view.

“It’s an illusion.” The maid explained as if to reassure her that her baths were not going to be displayed out into the world. “The Master asked for a glass case that held shrubs but the foggy forest is an intricate painting by one of the familys’ personal artists. He likes the feeling of being disconnected from the modern world when he’s relaxing.”

Normally the design would impress her greatly. The idea of having the illusion of a calm forest without the hassle of actually moving to one was genius and the greyish light gave the bathroom a relaxing morning feel. Right now however it made her feel more trapped than ever. Even the view outside was just an illusion in her new cage. Nothing felt solid and real at this point like Belle was a ghost floating around in a dream that never seemed to end.

“Your towels are over on the stand there, dear. I’ll have robes and a change of clothes brought to you outside soon.” The maid smiled patting her lightly on her arm. “Don’t fret too much, darling. I don’t think the master has any intention of hurting you.”

“It’s not him hurting me that’s making me nervous.” Belle smiled sadly, grateful that the woman even cared to reassure her somehow.

“Ah…” The maid smiled and nodded knowingly. “I’ll get you some of my special tea…it calmed me down on my wedding night.”

Belle’s heart sank seeing the woman smile at her a little sadly too. “Is the secret ingredient whiskey?” She tried to lighten the mood which successfully made the woman chuckle. Somehow seeing the way the woman helped her in her own way reminded her of why she was in this glass case in the first place. She remembered Taehyung smiling again, throwing away all the things that tarnished all the peace in his heart and being free. She needed to be strong.

“Not really but…I’ll see what I can do.” She whispered the last bit with a cheeky smile before turning on her heel to leave Belle in a few moments of solitary freedom at the very least.

It may have been dark by now.

At least when Belle peeked the slightest outside the curtained window, the sun had been dipping into the hills to give the sky a pinkish hue. Her heart pounded at the lack of notifications from her brother. Her body felt fresher now that she had a comfortable long white nightie with a thin robe to keep her arms somewhat cozy. But skin still heated up significantly with her anxiety.

Then minutes passed before her phone buzzed and her heart released a thousand sighs of relief seeing Taehyung’s name.

“Belle?”

“Yes it’s me.” Belle whispered with a biggest grin on her face from the sheer relief. “You went home okay? They didn’t hurt you?”

“No, no they were just… fine.” Confusion trailed in Taehyung’s voice. “That guy has way too much fucking power, they just dropped me off and left saying they’ll come back to drop me off at the rehab center. Normally his men tried to rough me up whenever they saw me.”

“That’s because they knew you’re the guy that doesn’t pay.” Belle cringed mentally hearing herself defend their actions but…she was a little too good at considering perspectives, she guessed.

“I guess…also I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking you if you’re okay.” Taehyung corrected but Belle let his words linger in the air for a moment.

Sitting in the luxury bedroom wearing a clearly quality robe with people working at her beck and call, in a first glance people would call her lucky. Digging deeper into the surface and seeing that Belle was manipulated into being in his position then people would call Jungkook a monster.

Was it only one of them? Was it both? Was it neither? Was this just a game that Belle had no choice but to play for a time until her brother got better? How far did Jungkook even think this through? Why was he so interested in manipulating Taehyung the most? Did he do this to every sister, brother or parent that came around? Did they even come this far?

“Belle, you still there?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay. I’m just sitting.” She quickly explained.

The thoughts crowded in her head making it ache but thankfully the maid—her name she found out was Nana—gave her a piping hot cup of tea apparently laced with some herbs that helped calm anxiety and nerves. It was an ancient herb given to young girls so they could go through their wedding night without having an anxiety attack or breaking down. Blowing away some of the steam, Belle took a few sips ignoring the bitter taste on her tongue.

“I don’t know what he wants yet but I think I have an idea.” Belle spoke solemnly.

“You really don’t have to do this, Belle.” Taehyung whispered desperately.

“We don’t have any other choice.”

“You could just come back home and I’ll just handle it.”

“You had three months to handle it.” Her voice grew firm quicker than she even expected but she kept her head cool. Silence ran on the other end of the line making Belle sigh to calm herself down. “We just need to keep our heads. We’ll be fine.” She didn’t mean to make her tone sound so dreary but this wasn’t exactly the cheeriest of moments in her life. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the fabric of her soft nightie trying to empty her mind for a little while. “I need to go, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay…Belle…”

“Yeah?”

“…I love you. Be safe.”

The lump in her throat grew again suffocating her when she forcefully swallowed it down. “I love you too.” Belle whispered before hanging up. Taking longer sips from her tea now, it took a few seconds for her feel her limbs loosen like ice melting near a fireplace. Her body cooled down from her heated anxiety to a comfortable warmth she could melt into without the worries of the troubles around her.

For a moment, she could close her eyes and relish in the new found relief wanting to silently thank Nana for providing her this cup of momentary tranquility.

The door opened with the familiar white-suited man walking in giving her a glance as he shrugged his blazer off. “Nana got you some clothes…good.” Jungkook muttered, walking into the walk-in wardrobe and placing his blazer back before taking off his cufflinks when he walked back in the bedroom. “Is it comfortable?”

“Yes.” Belle replied, brushing her palms across the smooth sleeves of the robe. She never worked with satin a lot but whenever she felt it under her skin it gave her the tingle of pure luxury. “I just spoke to Taehyung…he came home safe.”

“I told you he would.” Jungkook murmured, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulder before placing into a hamper for the maids to take care of.

Belle noticed the stencil like silhouette of a phoenix etched into the right side of his chest as he walked over to his side of the bed. “You kept to your word. Thank you.” Not that you deserve it but…common courtesy.

She caught a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while he unbuckled his belt and threw it on the floor.

“Do I sense a little bitterness, Ms. Kim?” Jungkook mused.

“Why? You don’t like a little bitter taste on your tongue?” Snakes must get used to it by now, she thought.

“I know you’re not a fan of me.” He stated the fucking obvious. “But you could say no anytime. I’ll just deal with your brother without bothering you again.”

Belle tightened her jaw, gripping onto the fabric of her nightie averting her gaze forcing a long silence to plunge into the room.

Jungkook finally sighed. “I didn’t mean that.” He muttered but Belle was mostly trying to focus back on the relaxation the tea gave her again. “Our accord is as solid any other contract so I’m not allowed to touch your brother…while you’re still with me anyway.”

“Is this how you get all your girls?”

He chuckled walking over and standing in front of Belle, forcing her to look up at him. “Would you be pleased if I said no?” Jungkook placed an index finger under her chin while his thumb hovered for a moment over her lips.

“Only if it’s the truth.” Belle replied simply, her knees melting into the surface of the bed.

Jungkook smirked moving his hands into her hair. “I don’t invite just anyone in my bed, no. But you’re not just anyone.”

“Why do you think that?” She asked as he slowly leaned in closer, fingers sliding down the crook of her neck letting the sleeves of her robe and nightie slip down with a mere touch.

“Because you were the only one brave enough to come this far.” He whispered pushing down the other side of her sleeves to leave her shoulders exposed. “Girls love the bad boys but never seem to understand what they’re asking for.” Cold fingers brushed against her collarbones, across her chest up her neck until he finally caressed her bottom lip with his index finger.

They want a fairytale. Beauty and the Beast. But eventually they find out that the Beast was never a prince in the first place. They realize that a mere kiss won’t break the curse.

“You know exactly what you’re asking for… don’t you?” Jungkook asked in a tone of a warm coo.

I’m not asking for this, Belle bit her tongue. But I do know what I’m getting myself into. What you gave me no choice but to get into. She stared at him determined to keep his gaze no matter how much she wanted to close her eyes. He wasn’t going to overpower her, not in that way. I received a beast instead of a prince…but you’re not getting any vulnerable fucking princess either. Keeping her eyes on his, she parted her lips and took his finger into her mouth barely waiting for Jungkook to make any move before she began suckling on it.

“Of course you do.” The mere action was enough of an answer for the male as his smirk grew darker. Jungkook took his finger away pushing down her nightie and robe further down until her breasts were displayed to him.

Belle was grateful for the warmth from the fireplace spreading through the room at his point. But in mere seconds Jungkook used his glistening finger to brush across her nipple causing it to stand erect almost instantly. A light gasp caught in her throat as she pressed her palms on the surface of the bed making her chest push out a little. When she threw her head back a little, he quickly took the opportunity to devour her lips, tongue pushing against her teeth which she kept clamp shut.

Long enough for him to get impatient and bite down her bottom lip a little. Then she allowed him to push through and explore her mouth. Jungkook knelt down but kept their lips locked as he sneaked his hands under her nightie, pushing the soft fabric, nails grazing against her skin causing a tingle down her spine.

Belle lifted a little to let him push the dress further up until he completely pulled both pieces of clothing off over her head. Before she could even comprehend her exposure, he picked her up a little and shifted so she could rest her head on the silk pillows. Her heart raced against her ribcages but she stopped being sure of why at this point, instead she thought about the herbs Nana gave her. Maybe thinking about how it can help would psychologically increase its effects? Stupid but maybe.

When she looked down at the male out of curiosity, she saw him discard his pants and boxers before climbing back onto the bed.

Belle kept her legs closed loosely before he pushed them apart, hands gliding down her inner thighs to her panties. His thumb pressed against the clothing right against her hiding nub making her jerk her hips a little at the suddenly awakened nerves.

He didn’t waste any time to hook the hem of her panties and strip it off her before dipping down in between her legs. His mouth feasted on her clit, tongue licking around her slit before sliding in teasingly slow and moving back to suckling on her bundle of nerves.

Her chest rose and fell as her eyes focused more on the ceiling, biting onto her bottom lip, light whimpers emitting from under her breath.

Jungkook released her clit with a pop sound before settling his hips between her legs. His already hardened shaft teased her slit a little more, wet sounds tickling her ears before she felt him stretch her out.

A moan finally erupted from her throat, clenching around him making him groan.

“It’s okay…” He whispered in her ear when she turned her head to the side. “Does it hurt a lot?”

Belle’s head felt like it was trying to find a straight line in a completely scribbled piece of paper. Her core ached for a moment. She felt Jungkooks’ thumb rub at her clit making her walls relax a little as she focused on the light wash of pleasure rushing across her lower body. Slowly she shook her head moving back to face him again. “No…it’s okay.” She whispered, meeting his gaze when he still wasn’t moving. Leaning up she pressed a shy kiss on his lips.

It took mere seconds before Jungkook began moving in and out of her, still slowly rubbing circles on her erect clit.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, their foreheads pressed against each other as he grinded into her slightly nudging the spot that sent sparks through her body.

His pace quickened, both hands pressed down on the surface of the bed as he thrusted into her in a steady pattern letting the sounds of skin slapping linger in the air.

Belles’ skull felt numb, her mind locked up all her thoughts and allowed her body to succumb to his consistent pounding. Head threw back against the pillow as he chased his own orgasm, her own juices spluttering onto his lower belly. She hummed lightly under her breath which seemed to encourage Jungkook to go faster until the bed started to shift.

Jungkook lowered down a bit more, pressing wet kisses on her neck, trying to muffle his moans against her skin as his thrusts grew sloppy.

Belle felt a gentle wave of pleasure before Jungkook quickly pulled out with his release splattering all over her belly. She let out a small sigh, rubbing circles on her clit again to prolong her small climax before her bundle felt too sensitive to touch making her legs close up again. She watched the other male catch his breath still kneeling in front of her before crashing on the space beside her.

Whatever piece of physical satisfaction swirled around her body melted quickly into her chest clenching painfully. It didn’t take too long for her to notice all too clearly what spilt on her skin but Jungkook had already pulled out a wash cloth and wiped her clean. The traces still burrowed in her mind now.

Jungkook threw the wash cloth away before resting back on the bed again, shutting his eyes for a moment. Both of them catching their breaths and finally dwindling back to their fucked up reality.

“I can’t break this deal.” He murmured looking up at ceiling similar to her. “If I do, I’ll have to kill your brother.”

Belle swallowed the lump in her throat, a small tear spilling from the corner of her eye. “Am I supposed to be your sex toy until you’re done with me?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not allowed to have…sex toys.” Jungkook sighed. “There’s another reason why I changed the deal.”

She finally turned her head to face him, brows furrowing. “What did you not tell me?”

The male took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. “My uncle and aunt have been forcing me to get married to someone of their choice. It’s gotten so pressing to a point where they’ve paid them to seduce me so it doesn’t look arranged.” Jungkook explained, running his fingers through his hair before resting on his head on his arm. “My rejections have stopped working. So I thought I should get a courtship with someone I choose before I’ll have to succumb to my uncle and aunts’ wishes.”

Belle could practically hear her own heart slamming out of her ears, more tears burning in her eyes. “So… you just…saw me and decided that you were going to make me your wife?”

“Did you want me to ask for your parents’ blessing or something?”

She averted her gaze back to the ceiling. “My parents are dead.”

“…I didn’t—”

“Of course you didn’t fucking know, we don’t know each other.” Belle inhaled a shaky breath before closing her eyes to calm herself down.

You are a fucking beast.

“Darling I gave you a chance to turn back.”

“So you wouldn’t hurt my brother.”

“Your brother was already dead if he kept going the way he did.” Jungkook winced a little before sighing in frustration. “I told you I’m not trying to be evil. A lot of people look at me when they want to see power. The world I live in chews up people who are too merciful.”

“My brother is innocent.” Belle sobbed lightly, forcefully biting down her bottom lip.

“He’s vulnerable to what I offer. Did you really think he was going to stop taking drugs just because he paid the money?” Jungkooks’ question lingered in the air for a while. “Correction: just because you paid the money.”

“So you want me to be your wife…” She swallowed thickly. “…or you’ll kill my brother.”

“When you say it that way, I do sound evil.” Jungkook pondered. “But yes. Everything else in the deal still stays the same. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“Except leave you.” Belle corrected.

“Except leave me.” Jungkook confirmed in the most casual fucking tone ever.

Belle did nothing but stay silent and turn to her side, back facing him making the male sigh in slight defeat. She felt his hand on her shoulder squeezing slightly as if it was going to give her any kind of comfort.

“A lot of marriages can be worse than this, you know.” He squeezed it again. “You’re going to have to work with me for this to run a lot smoother, yeah? You did so well today.” Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “I promise it won’t feel so bad after a while.”

She knew now. Kissing the beast didn’t break the curse.

It made one.

NEXT CHAPTER >>

#jungkook #thebtswritersclub #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #tw: smut #tw: dubious consent #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Infatuation

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: It’s not a secret that Corpse prefers taking care of his hair himself rather than going to a hair salon to get it trimmed and/or tampered. However, he only has so much knowledge of how to properly do it without having to obliterate his budget. Luckily, his girlfriend comes to his rescue.

Requested by Anon. Hi lovely! Thank you so much for the incredibly fluffy request! I’ve been very pumped to write it and now here it finally is - so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but I still hope you come across it and give it a read! Love, Vy ❤

“Um, what are you doing?“

I just walked into Corpse’s apartment to find him barricaded in the bathroom, giving himself a hair appointment. We were supposed to have a chill night in watching movies, but it seems to me like those plans will either have to be delayed or canceled, given the chaotic state both Corpse and his bathroom are in. I mean, how dumb was I to expect he was actually doing his hair justice when he told me he styled it himself? Why didn’t that immediately raise an army of red flags in my head and lead me to question his methods?

I’m honestly quite jealous of Corpse’s hair. It’s always so soft and silky and no matter how much or how little effort he’s put in it, it always looks good: either evidently carefully styled or boyishly messy, it leaves me with heart-eyes regardless. But to see him massacre it like this, it makes me wish I could report it as a crime.

“Ain’t obvious?“ He sounds rather frustrated and I feel at least slightly better due to this fact. He deserves to be as frustrated as I am by the sight of the crap he’s doing. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to wait for me for...a little while. I just need to get this under control and, um, clean the mess. Sorry for ruining your night like this, babe. I-I really wasn’t planning on it to take this long but I forgot to buy one of the products and I thought I could wing it without it but...I very clearly can’t so...“

“Please, stop talking. I don’t need to know what sins you’ve committed - if I do I’ll probably have to give you the silent treatment for like a week or so.“ I call out to him as I quickly skip over to the kitchen to leave the food I bought on my way over before returning to the bathroom and carefully taking a step inside, mindful of where there are hair strands on the tiles. Even severed, his hair is beautiful and I have a ton of respect for it - ok fine, I adore it. Corpse definitely doesn’t appreciate it properly. I walk over to the shower, reaching out to the two shelves inside which are lined with different types of hair products. “Oh fuck...“ I let out the whisper without even realizing it because I’m so stunned by the brands I see on those shelves. “Corpse, um, what the actual fuck?”

He turns to me, eyes wide and terrified because of my menacing tone. “What? What is it?” His gaze searches the spot where mine was just pointed at, looking for anything that could’ve provoked such a reaction from me. Seeing nothing but the hair products, he meets my deadly glare yet again, “What’s wrong?”

Alright, this man-child needs some serious help

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong.“ I say, stomping towards the exit of the bathroom, “You’re gonna stay here and wait for me to come back and don’t you DARE, even touch your hair, let alone bring a pair of scissors or any chemical near it. Copy?“

“Copied and pasted, ma’am.“ He salutes me, knowing better than to ask questions when I enter my commander role. There are quite a few things that set me off into this bossy-ass persona, and hair mistreatment is most definitely one of them. Thing is, Corpse doesn’t know that. Well, he didn’t know that, pretty sure he’s guessed it by now.

Feeling myself soften at his obedience and trust, I give him a smile and a wink over my shoulder as I go to grab my bag and leave the apartment to complete my mission, “Good boy.”

* * *

“Isn’t that a lot better?“ I ask, gently running my fingers through Corpse’s freshly cut, washed and dried hair. I’ve spent a good five minutes just smoothing through it with my fingers. I bet he’s expecting me to say ‘my precious‘ at any moment now, and trust me it’s tempting, but I still don’t, I won’t give him the pleasure of predicting my actions. Wow, we’ve really reached that level of being familiar with one another that I predict that he’s predicting what I’m gonna do next. While I’m a guessing game for him, I tend to think of myself as more of an open book. You just gotta be fluent in the language it’s written in to understand it.

I’ve gone off-topic, my bad.

“Yeah, you’re a lot less scary now.“ He tells me, his hand finding mine in his hair and taking it to his lips to place a kiss on my knuckles.

We’re positioned so that we’re in front of the bathroom mirror with Corpse seated in a chair in front of me and I’m for once in my life towering over him from behind. Our height difference was threatening to be a hinderance in my work on his hair, but we easily figured it out.

I can’t help but laugh, “You know what I meant.“ I curl one of his already curly strands around the pointer finger of the hand that’s still wandering around the soft dark curls while the other remains in his gentle hold, resting on his shoulder.

“And you know what I meant.“ He shifts in his seat to look at me directly, not via the mirror, “Since when do you have a hair infatuation?“

I roll my eyes and retract my hands, defensively folding my arms over my chest, “It’s not an infatuation with hair, dummy. It’s an infatuation with your hair.” I correct him, doing quick work of styling the stray strands that fall over his forehead and eyes. “I really like your hair, you already know that. I can’t handle the thought you’re doing such a shitty job taking care of it.”

He shrugs, furrowing his brows, “Hey, I was buying top-shelf products, cost me a fortune every month, my hair was being treated like royalty.”

I roll my eyes once again, “High price doesn’t always equal high quality, Corpse. Did you ever stop to read what was in those products?” I don’t let him answer, I don’t need him to confirm what I already know. “Even if you did - which you didn’t - you wouldn’t know what each of those ingredients do to your hair. You see, taking care of hair, especially hair like yours, takes patience and knowledge. It’s practically an art form. It’s not like you can just buy any product that has ‘suitable for curly hair’ on it. There’s a lot more to that.”

It’s only after I finish my monologue that I realize he’s looking at me with amazed amusement in his gaze, almost like a parent listening to their kid talk about their wish of becoming an astronaut. “Since when do you know so much about hair? You’ve been using the same shampoo and conditioner since I know you and now you wanna lecture me on hair care?”

I raise an eyebrow at him, exasperated by his stubbornness on the matter, “Who said being consistent with your hair products is a bad thing? You know, frequent changing of brands has the potential of being damaging as much as aiding.” I explain with the most amount of patience I can muster, now taking over the parent role myself, “And as for your previous question, I know so much because my mother is a hairdresser.”

His eyes widen in surprise. I can practically see the gears in his brain turning as he tries to recall if I’ve ever told him this before.

“How come I don’t know that?“ He asks finally after a long moment of silence. “Why haven’t you told me?”

“You ask that as though I just tell you things like that on the regular. Did you also want me to drop the info that my dad’s a mechanic in passing conversation about video games? Cause that’s a little hard to shoehorn in....“ He cuts off my sarcastic rambling with a brief peck to the lips. He’s the only person allowed to shut me up, and only like that. Anything else will earn him either an earful or a silent treatment.

Just kidding....unless...

“So, does that mean you’re continuing the family business?“ he asks when he pulls away, “I mean, you’re technically my personal hairdresser now.“

I furrow my brows playfully, “Wait, what? Since when?”

“Since I hired you approximately an hour ago.“ He beams up at me, satisfied that I’ve fallen in his trap.

“And what about my payment?“ I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

He looks to be contemplating for a second before he stands up from the chair, taking my hand in his leading me out of the bathroom, “Well, each appointment you’ll give me a different price, Miss Y/L/N. But, considering today was your first day, I choose to pay you with dinner.“ He sends a wink my way, laughing when he’s met with an unamused expression on my part as I stop in my tracks, causing him to halt his movements as well.

“You really plan on paying me with the dinner I bought?“ I raise an eyebrow at him, freeing my hand from his so I can put both my hands on my hips for the complete 'I’m far from impressed’ look.

“Yeah...? Problem?“ He asks, faking nervousness and guilt as he closes the distance between us, once again returning to the default of towering over me instead of it being the other way around.

“Several actually. First of all...“ I raise my finger in the air accusingly, ready to go off but the arm that wraps around my waist and lifts me off the ground causes my words to die down, evaporating in a frightened squeal, “Corpse no!! Put me down!“

Of course, he ignores me, carrying me into the living room while I don’t know whether to thrash or stay as still as possible.

Tsk, so much for gratitude

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