#just a day passed but that was already a lot :

[gutsby]

Stiff

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in.

Or, your old man wants to knock you up. Viagra helps.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v (obviously 😵‍💫🤙🏼). Breeding kink. Age gap. Peepaw Joel. Blue Pill Joel. Post-apocalyptic-Viagra-dosage-gone-horribly-wrong-and-now-his-dick-won’t-deflate-for-a-day…but it’s OK!

Note: This is the crackfic counterpart/sequel to ‘Make It Stick’

Word count: 2.9k

Forty-five minutes.

Forty-five minutes until his fate was sealed for the night. His pulse would quicken. His head would start to swim, and any last sliver of rational thought would be lost to the ether or the cold, snowy air around him. Joel Miller had to hurry now, because that bite-sized blue pill he’d just taken was in his belly, and if his dick didn’t find its way in you, he was fucked. Or at least huge and swollen and leaking out beads of hot desire the size of golf balls.

Well, maybe that was just his cock.

Joel looked down, scanning his pants.

Yeah…definitely just cock. He walked faster.

At home, he knew he’d find you curled up on the couch, nose in a book. What to Expect When You’re Expecting, if he had to guess. Then, sure enough, you’d lift your eyes and smile—‘Thank goodness you’re back, daddy’—and lift the hem of your night dress just slightly. Spread your legs and beckon him in. It was a nightly routine by now.

You wanted to be knocked up as fast as possible, after all

At almost sixty years old, Joel couldn’t believe he was actually saying these words aloud. But here he was—crawling overtop you on the couch, situating himself between your legs, and pulling his cock out, mumbling:

“Gonna let me put a baby in you tonight?”

You nodded sweetly—eagerly—every time.

Joel knew he could never resist that look. He was as good as finished the first second you let him sink inside your tight, weeping hole, and when he stretched it, he could already tell this was all he would ever want to do. Make you happy, fill you up, give you lots and lots of him.

It was why he’d stopped by the apothecary tonight. Why he’d hesitated only a moment before clearing his throat and asking for a pill like Viagra—Joel knew that the man behind the counter would flash him a wry, knowing grin.

Trouble keepin’ up with that sweet young thing’a yours?

David was a dick.

He wasn’t entirely wrong, either.

Ever since agreeing to start trying for a baby, Joel had become acutely aware of his own physical limitations in that department, and one of them was stamina. He could scarcely fuck twice in the same night without needing a long and rest-intensive breather. You were young and could roll over ready to go in five minutes.

It wasn’t fair to deprive you now on account of his age.

If you wanted his cum, you were getting it, no question.

Not just once, but multiple times. Again and again and—

“Again,” Joel grunted once he’d shot off his last spurt.

Fifty-eight minutes had passed since he’d taken that pill. It had fully kicked in, and his dick was still hard, even after finishing inside you with a sticky, white-hot flood.

You blinked dreamily up at him.

“You mean it, old man?” you teased him lightly.

I’ll show you what I mean, Joel thought to himself before flipping you over on the sofa. He had your hips tilted up and his cock driving back inside your freshly-fucked cunt in no time at all. He felt his spend coating your walls; it let him glide right in. Joel groaned and jerked himself back out, then fucked back in again and again and again.

“Again?”

Your word was exhaled in a laugh.

You stood in front of the bathroom sink, trying to tidy up the insides of your legs and push some more of Joel’s load back in, when you felt a presence at your back.

Stabbing your ass.

You started to turn then, puzzled.

“Bend over,” Joel commanded before you could.

You did as you were told because, frankly, you loved getting fucked wherever your old man wanted it—even if he had broken the sink one time he’d pounded you here.

But there was palpable confusion, too. How in the hell had Joel Miller, certified silver fox and owner of a dick old enough to remember Woodstock and the moon landing, managed to get his dick hard in the five minutes since he’d had you face-down, ass-up on the couch?

Or had his dick gotten soft at all?

You wanted to question him about it, or else give a long, hard look at his uncharacteristically long, hard friend, when the next moment had you gripping the counter. Stretching between the legs as Joel pushed back in.

“There she is,” he murmured affectionately.

Really, you’d never been wetter. Or warmer. Or filled to the brim with more sticky-white spend than you could ever hope to hold inside, it felt like. You bent at the waist and let him have his fill. You closed your eyes and rested your head on your forearms while Joel’s hot, bulbous tip grazed your cervix with dizzying alacrity. A smile crept in.

Whatever this was, you wanted more of it.

His dick was still hard.

Four mind-numbing fucks and another forty-five minutes later, Joel’s cock hadn’t deflated the tiniest bit.

The thing had hammered you so thoroughly he’d nearly destroyed the sink again. You’d whimpered, and whined, and warned him quietly, ‘We just fixed the porcelain, baby,’ and right before he’d painted your walls with his seed, you’d cum for him practically shrieking. Shaking.

Letting him turn you around for a kiss, only to mumble against his mouth with a sleepy, cockdrunk sort of lilt:

“I think you gave me twins.”

Then he’d fucked you in the shower to make it triplets.

Now you were laying out on the bed, truly spent, eyes following him in the semi-darkness of your bedroom after you’d toweled off and collapsed among the pillows.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Miller?” you breathed.

Joel made it over to the dresser, back turned to you. He rifled through a drawer looking for something extra tight.

“Just missed you is all,” he said, shrugging.

What he needed right now was fabric that was very thick to hide the boner he was sporting. Joel could tell from the way you spoke that you were too tired for round five, and he didn’t want you feeling like you had to go again.

He would be fine.

His dick might not deflate until dawn, but that was okay.

“Wish you missed me like this every day,” you giggled.

When Joel turned around, he was shocked to find you sprawled out on the bed—hands between your legs.

There was a shy smile on your face.

“Baby…” he trailed off, watching your fingers flit through that sticky mess where he’d left it. Where you glistened.

Where you slid your index and middle fingers up and down your slit and drew circles on your clit, eyes shining.

“What? I missed you too,” you said, tone all faux protest.

You had no idea what you did to him when you talked like that. Especially when he was drowning in a state like this.

Hard as a rock.

Throbbing.

Needy.

Scarcely even knowing what he was doing, Joel found himself over by the foot of the bed in a second. Watching your every move with a wild, wipe-open stare he still couldn’t believe you found appealing. He swallowed.

He not only looked perverted, but he felt it, too. It rarely ever left his mind, save for the four or five seconds he spent in ecstasy emptying the contents of his balls inside your cunt, that he was his age, and you were yours. That perhaps the rest of Jackson was right, and he was wrong: he had no business being around a girl like you, much less getting off inside you every night. Was this really what you wanted? A bewildering mixture of guilt, lust, and love all circulated through his skull at that moment, and the longer he spent looking at your fingers, ogling the way you teased them through his cum between your legs, the more he felt certain he was bad.

No one corrupted a thing this sweet and got to call themselves good, anyway, he thought to himself idly.

“I keep gettin’ that…feelin’,” you said under your breath.

Joel’s hand tightened in a fist, and it was then that he realized it was wrapped around his cock. Still watching.

“Yeah, baby? What feelin’?” he returned, almost as quiet.

Still stroking himself up and down, up and down, softly.

You had your legs spread open—knees splayed wider than they’d been before. And your eyes had a tender, placid sheen to them, like they just might cry if they didn’t get release of some kind soon. Then you slowed.

Your touch slipped from your clit to the opaque, sticky globs between your thighs, and that look got even softer.

More desperate.

“Can’t…explain it.” You shook your head, as if pained, and then you sank two fingers inside. Joel could hear the tiny schlick from where he stood, and it almost did him in.

You sucked in a breath and added, “It’s a special feelin’.”

Joel’s fist had already worked its way up to a ridiculous speed. Again, he sensed this might be the worst and most pathetic he’d ever looked, but by the glint in your eyes and the way you kept holding him there, he also knew you weren’t asking him to stop, either. You were needing something else—something he could provide.

Thanks to that one stupid pill.

Joel’s smile was strained as he gripped the edge of the bed, like he was trying to assuage you and him at once.

“Try me, baby. Tell me ‘bout that special feelin’.”

Your middle and ring fingers disappeared inside you.

You whined, “Ain’t fair to say it now. You’re tired, daddy.”

Like hell he was. Joel crawled over the footboard and made his way straight to you, where your body was limp.

His breaths were coming in so fast and his pulse was thrumming so hard that he almost couldn’t hear himself talking. But he ventured to speak as gently as he could.

“I’m wide awake, sweet pea. I’m all ears. Talk to me.”

And if his words didn’t communicate as much, surely the look in his eyes would’ve told you all the rest. Quietly, he slipped his torso between your legs, where you’d inserted a third finger and were moving your hips again. You were fingering yourself, breathing shallow and quick.

“It’s a feelin’ like I wanna be…stuffed…a-and full’a you.”

Joel’s whole body could’ve liquified on the spot. His brain, presently, had all the consistency of a plate of scrambled eggs if he’d had to guess. Feeling his cock swell even bigger and his hips sink lower to yours of their own accord, he had only to grit his teeth and nod his head. He felt the tip of him bump your fingers, and the sensation and the expectation nearly drove him insane.

He mumbled quietly, “Then move your hand.”

You did. You winced again. You looked as though you might be ashamed for wanting him to fill you with his spend, and Joel simply wouldn’t allow that any longer.

Without saying another word, he slid back in.

Your cum and his facilitated the slide, and you opened right up for him. You whimpered, while Joel grunted like an animal. He couldn’t help it; it all felt so fucking primal.

How you could ever feel the need to apologize for wanting more of this was more than he could take.

“Every inch of me,” Joel said, rutting deeper, “is yours.”

He withdrew to the tip, and he could feel strings of arousal linking him to you in a sickeningly sweet way.

You could scarcely even nod, just waiting for him again.

When Joel plunged back in, he heard a feral little cry, and he felt your legs wrap around his waist. He went faster. You fisted the pillow behind your head in one hand, while the other laid flat on his chest, like you were checking for a heartbeat. You could probably hear it thudding a million miles per minute right now. Your hips collided in tandem.

“D— Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That’s it, open up for daddy. Good girl. It’s all yours.”

The sounds his thrusts were making were obscene.

“Every inch?” you breathed, “E-Every drop, too?”

“Every fiber of my fucking being, sweet girl.”

That made you smile, at length. Your hand slid from his chest, down his round belly, straight to a groin that was pounding hard and fast against your own. Joel groaned when he felt your touch sweep inside your legs—right in the space where his cum had come trickling out. You slid your fingers through that mess, then whimpered again.

Then you brought your hand up to your mouth.

You wrapped your lips around your cum-soaked fingers like they were the single sweetest thing, and you sucked.

Joel had no say after seeing that: he had to cum again.

It likely stunned you both—you more than him, by the look that crossed your eyes the second you felt him throb and pulse inside your cunt—but then it kept going.

Rather than stop, or slow down in the slightest, Joel found his hips pistoning faster than they had before. The whole bed frame shook, and your body trembled with every thrust, and the noises between your legs grew even louder; the sound of skin slapping skin was only amplified by the addition of Joel’s hot load in the mix.

The man was operating on impulse. You, through sheer awe and an animalistic need to have every crevice filled. You held him and you grit your teeth, and you let him keep using your body, while you used his. You kissed him.

“Go on, then—make me a daddy. Take my cum, baby,” Joel babbled, brainless, “Make your old man a daddy.”

He couldn’t tell if it were the words or the rhythm or the pleasure that had already been blossoming deep in your gut this whole time, but he felt you fall apart. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist than you had all night, and you screamed his name. Begged for more.

“Cum in me, daddy—pleasepleaseplease just cum, ju—��

And there he went. Again. Flooding your insides with his warmth and letting his cock carve a wild, relentless path through your cunt like it was all the man knew how to do. He filled you up. He felt it leaking down his length with every stab of his hips, and frankly, he didn’t care what he looked like now. You were smiling big, drawing him in for more kisses as he panted and grunted and whimpered like he never had before. He kissed back. Slowed down.

Found himself lost in your mouth as your tongue wove delectably through his own and your hands made their way to his wild, greying hair. You tugged, and he moaned.

He fucked his spend deeper without even meaning to.

All instinct again, it seemed he couldn’t get enough.

Suddenly, he felt a new, strange urge bubble up.

“I-I-I took a pill tonight,” he blurted out, “Know how badly you want this baby, and I wanna give you one.”

Or two. Or twenty. He was barely capable of speech, let alone rational cognition, so he just spoke whatever came to his mind then, still snug inside your legs and panting.

“A pill?” you whispered back.

Joel’s gaze locked with yours.

He felt stupid for it all at once.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just— I know I’m gettin’ on in years, and I probably can’t fuck the way I used to. And you deserve someone who can…Maybe a guy your age, but that—”

“—is the single dumbest thing you have ever said to me,” you finished for him, eyes narrowing swiftly in a scowl.

When Joel tried talking again, you cut him off.

“I don’t care what any guy my age is doing, or could do. I want babies with you, and that includes every part, OK?”

Your look softened momentarily, seeing his lips twitch down—you could probably see he wasn’t believing you.

Then you cradled his face in your palms. You smiled. You brushed his nose with yours, and you kissed him again, and with what little strength you likely had left in your body, you dug your heels in his ass and pulled him deeper. Both of you let out soft, low grunts at the effort.

“If you fucked like this at twenty-five, my body wouldn’t have survived anyway,” you whispered in reassurance. Biting back a laugh as Joel smiled, too, “I like things just the way they are. Just like how I hope you like me, too.”

“No—I love you.” Joel shook his head, almost plaintive.

And for the first time that night, he felt himself soften.

Whether it was the pill wearing off or that first thread of vulnerability stretching out between your body and his, he didn’t really care. He kissed the tip of your nose and was about to say something more, when you cut back in.

“I love you more. And since we’re being honest tonight,” you started quietly, nipping at your bottom lip a second, “I might…need you back at the apothecary tomorrow.”

Joel’s face fell.

“Wh— is something wrong, baby?” His voice was tight.

He hated seeing David, but, of course, he’d go back there in a heartbeat if it meant getting you the medication you needed. His stomach was starting to churn, when you reached up to hold his face again. You shook your head.

“No, no, Joel, I’m fine. But I may need prenatal vitamins.”

Now his eyes were going wide. His cheeks heated under your palms, and his cock twitched inside you, reflexively.

“You mean…” he murmured, unable to finish. Swallowing.

Beneath him, he saw you smile and nod.

He nearly choked hearing what followed:

“I meant to tell you earlier, but…my period’s a little late.”

[ckret2]

It's fic time. The Axolotl tries to persuade Bill to face what happened to his dimension while Bill tries to avoid that literally any way possible.

This is part 8 of a 9 part plot about the Axolotl meeting this friendly harmless innocent little triangle in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre and gradually learning he's literally the worst person ever. If you want to read and/or look at the pretty art on the other parts, here's one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven.

(WARNING in this one for nonspecific but pretty obvious suicidal ideation)

####

The triangle whirled around as a milky white void closed in around him. "Whoa whoa hey! What is this? How'd I get here?"

"Welcome to my office. You're in a time and space outside time and space," the Axolotl said. "Take a seat. I have a very comfortable bean bag chair."

The triangle did not take a seat. He pointed at the Axolotl like an angry arrow. "What did you do! If you don't put me back now—"

"Don't worry. When we leave this space, you will be where and when you were. Think of this like a dream."

Furiously, the triangle burst into a ball of bright blue flame. It reeked of burning hydrogen—the stench of the fabric of reality itself burning away to nothing. But he, himself, didn't burn. What was fueling his flames? "Yeah?! Well, dreams are my business!" A wave of blue flames surged toward the Axolotl.

And dissipated without touching him. The Axolotl's eyes glowed white. "THIS IS MY DREAM, TRIANGLE—NOT YOURS!"

The triangle shrank down. He squeaked, "Got it." He quietly perched one edge on the Axolotl's bean bag chair. He didn't look at the Axolotl. He was staring up around them at the Axolotl's tank.

The Axolotl's eyes dimmed again to black voids. He settled back, trying to look unthreatening now that the triangle wasn't fighting him. "Do you see something?"

The triangle laughed uneasily. "Not aside from a whole lot of white."

"You keep looking up," the Axolotl said.

"Up?" the triangle said, confused; then apparently figured out what the Axolotl meant and snapped his gaze down to meet his again. "I never—haven't been able to see the stars before," he said, trying not to sound self-conscious even as he slowly tinted red again. "I've never seen anything that could block them. Except you."

Except him. The guy who passed the wall every day on his way to work; the eclipse that blocked out the sun once a year. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize." The walls of the tank seemingly dissolved, letting the triangle see the scene beyond: the glittery cotton candy celestial clouds of his home.

"Hey, I wasn't complaining! You're the one who asked." But the triangle had already visibly relaxed. He still wasn't looking at the Axolotl; but now, he was staring around at the unfamiliar new constellations with wonder.

It was the most unguarded the Axolotl had ever seen him. They didn't have much spare time; but the Axolotl couldn't bring himself to interrupt this brief peace.

After a moment, the triangle gestured toward the sky and said, "So, you—call that direction 'up.'"

"Yes?" the Axolotl said. "Is that strange?"

"No! Nooo no no. Just seems like it might be confusing, trying to tell apart north-up from star-up."

How odd. "We don't usually call north 'up'."

"Oh," the triangle said, voice small and sheepish.

"Some planetbound mortals do. But usually only when they're—" Oh. "... looking at maps." The world printed on a paper 2D plane. Like the plane the triangle had come from.

For all his power, his charisma, his bravado—the triangle was still just a lost little refugee from a flat little world. He held a whole universe in his hand, and he didn't even know up from down. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him.

"Listen to me," the Axolotl said. "You're in a lot of trouble. I'm sure you know that."

The triangle scoffed. "Tell me something new."

"How much of our discussion did you hear?"

"Just something about rebuilding the higher dimensions' foundations. Which is exactly what I told you to do! You mind your business, I'll mind mine!"

He suspected the triangle had heard more than that. "It's not that simple. They can't rebuild the foundation until the fires are out. So, as long as your actions keep setting new ones..."

"A-ha. So that's why you're here," the triangle said. "They sent you to intimidate me into letting 'em condemn my dimension."

"No." It was true enough that they had sent the Axolotl to try to talk the triangle down. And yes, he would if he could—he certainly didn't want to see all of reality destroyed—but he wasn't primarily here to help the other gods. "I'm here to help you."

The Axolotl had watched how this triangle puppeted corpses and terrified the barely-living into dancing along to his tune. He had seen the dying and dead melted together into oversized composite corpses at the triangle's party; and he'd seen how the triangle's unhappy victims tumbled down into his hell. He'd seen how blue flames flared around the triangle in his anger, and how his lines of fire warped, melted, and consumed whole universes, and how he burned mortals down to the soul with his mere gaze. He'd felt how all of Dimension Zero moved when the triangle moved.

This triangle, this poor child, was a monster.

The Axolotl wore many faces. He'd been a psychopomp, a god of death. He'd changed roles so he could help the dead he escorted reach better futures—now he was a god of rebirth, a god of second chances, a god of justice.

And in his capacity as a god of justice, he'd proudly defended the villains that no one else would defend. He did not believe in punishment. It was too late to save the villains' victims, and no amount of punishment would ever change that; but it was not too late to save the villains.

He was god of death, god of rebirth, god of second chances, god of justice—and also a god of monsters. And he'd decided this monster was under his protection.

Dubiously, the triangle said, "So they sent you as my legal counsel."

Oh, for— "No. I'm just trying to give you advice."

"Even better—pro bono legal counsel!" 

"You're not my client," the Axolotl said. "But I'll advise you as a friend. I can tell you your options as I see them. We can discuss them if you'd like. You may ask me one question, and no more."

"What? Why—" The triangle caught himself and struggled to rephrase. "That's a—stupid rule—that I want an explanation for!"

"Because I'm the Axolotl."

"What does that have t— I don't know what that has to do with anything!"

"I'm the only one who gets to ax a lotl questions."

The triangle stared at him. He burst out laughing. "I think I hate you!"

The Axolotl gave him a wide, gummy grin.

"St—stop that! It makes you even more ugly, ugh. I thought you were here to give me advice, not bad jokes." The triangle made a show of leaning back as though getting comfortable, although it was clear he was uneasy touching the bean bag chair. "So advise me, pink stuff."

"I preferred 'frills.'" Gently, the Axolotl said, "I think it's in your best interests to give yourself up to the divine authorities."

The triangle laughed in disbelief. "You're kidding. Hey, I heard your pals talking about how they can't fight me without knocking the multiverse down—"

"And once they've put up a fireproof foundation you can't burn your way through, there will no longer be any risk to the multiverse if they come after you."

"Sounds to me like a good reason to make sure they don't get that foundation in place!"

"For you to do enough damage to ensure they can't construct a foundation, you'd probably knock the multiverse down yourself," the Axolotl said. "And if that's the case, they'll have nothing to lose by trying to stop you anyway, and everything to lose by not trying."

The belligerence leeched out of the triangle's face by the word. "Oh. Yeah. I guess that's... yeah," he said.  "Okay." His expression was faraway for a moment, as he tried to wrap his mind around the magnitude of the situation. "Okay. That's okay, it's fine, it's fine." Could he feel the walls closing in on him? Did he see the stars being blocked out? "I've... got a way out of this."

"What?"

He didn't meet the Axolotl's gaze. He pulled off his hat to worry at it in his hands. "I have a way."

Bluffing. Or wishful thinking. "No. This is trouble you can't get out of. There's no greater crime against reality than the destruction of an entire dimension," the Axolotl said. "Right now, the gods think you're an active, divine threat to all of existence. That's what this is about. They're not after you because you broke a couple of rules—they're afraid of you." (The triangle lit up at that. Not quite the reaction the Axolotl had been going for, but at least he had his attention.) "And that means they won't stop until they're sure you're no longer a threat. As long as they're pursuing you, your best case scenario is getting buried alive beneath the multiverse's foundation where they can forget about you until your dream realm unravels."

"So what g—I don't see what good giving myself up would do! My best move is putting off the inevitable as long as possible! Just let 'em try to bury me!"

"But it's not inevitable," the Axolotl said. "They fear you as a divine threat. If you prove you're neither divine nor a threat—"

"No."

"Mortals can't be charged the same way as gods can. If we convince the court that you didn't have your current powers at the time of the inferno—"

"I don't know why you're so convinced I didn't have powers at the time!"

"I'm not. That doesn't mean I can't convince a judge," the Axolotl said, which surprised the triangle enough that he actually shut up for a moment. "If you're charged as a god, you face eternal imprisonment or oblivion. If you're charged as a mortal, you'll be sentenced to a regular afterlife. If you give up your power��I'm not sure where yours come from, but there are ways it can be done—" (the triangle was already raising a finger to protest) "—and it can be temporary! But if you don't have divine power when you're taken in, it will be that much easier to convince the judge that you didn't have any when your wall burned. On top of that, if you surrender yourself willingly and admit that destroying Dimension 2 Delta was an accident, that alone can knock off half your charges."

"Next you'll ask me to give up my eye! No!" He was clenching his fist around his hat so tightly that it shook; but that was the only sign of anxiety he betrayed. His gaze was as intense as the stare of a sun. "I told you: me, my power, and my people are a package deal. We stay together. We're staying right here. I don't care how much it inconveniences you."

"It's not about how much it inconveniences us," the Axolotl said. "I'm here for you—you and your people."

"They don't need you or any of your stupid 'gods.' I can take care of them!"

"Then take care of them," the Axolotl said. "You understand that, no matter how this ends, your dream realm will be destroyed and you'll have to leave or perish—don't you?"

"No." That stubborn little glitter fleck. "I can patch up this dump and repair the wall by myself. Once the wall's back, you don't have to worry about your stupid multiverse destabilizing, right?! I'll stabilize my realm before you get your stupid impenetrable foundation in place! Maybe I'll put a roof on top of it that you can't get through!"

"You haven't done it yet! What do you think you can do that you haven't already done?"

"You don't need to know," the triangle snarled.

He had to be mad, bluffing, or in denial. But he didn't look it—eye narrowed in determination, flames smoldering around his edges, fist clenched around his hat—

And then it clicked.

He hadn't said he would replace his wall. He said he'd repair it. 

The Time Giant had said there was no way the little speck of matter that the triangle kept in his hat could be all the matter from his universe; no mortal could handle it without its gravity crushing them, nor would they have the energy to move it.

But she'd also said that gravity was turned off in Dimension Zero. And the triangle had proven he did have the power to move an entire universe—so why should a universe the size of a grain of sand be any more difficult?

And anyway—what did restrictions like that mean in a place where dreams and reality overlap?

"The Time Giant was wrong, wasn't she," the Axolotl said. "You don't have a dark matter problem. You're carrying around the rubble of your universe. All of it. All the matter she sensed but couldn't find."

The triangle gave him a resentful look; but then sighed in defeat. He loosened his fist, reached into his hat, and plucked up the speck of what remained of his universe. The black pinprick of white light. "You're not as dumb as you look," he said wryly. "Yep. The whole thing's right here—all but a city or two. I figured out how to catch it pretty fast."

Catch it? "What... happened to your dimension?"

A faint uneasiness itched at the back of his mind; a sound, right at the edge of his hearing, that he couldn't quite identify but knew shouldn't be here.

"It doesn't matter," the triangle said. "It's about to un-happen."

"You're thinking about setting off a big bang, aren't you?"

The triangle said nothing. He just rolled his universe between his thumb and forefinger contemplatively. 

"You are," the Axolotl said. "You want to replace your universe."

Coolly, the triangle said, "You're sounding kinda scared, frills."

"I am," the Axolotl admitted. "Of all your options, that's the most dangerous thing you could possibly do."

"Hey, the dangerous choices have turned out pretty well for me so far!"

The Axolotl really didn't think they had. "You know you can't get your old universe back, don't you? It will only make a new universe."

The triangle didn't say anything—but he went still, holding the tiny glowing pearl between his fingers rather than rolling it back and forth.

"It will have similar physical properties—it will be 2D, gravity and light will probably work the same way, all the laws of physics will be what you expect... but it will be a new universe. New stars and worlds will form. New species will evolve. Your people will never return."

The triangle squeezed the pearl in his hand. "You don't know that," he said harshly. "Everything that ever existed is right in here." He shook his fist at the Axolotl. He could see the light shining out between the triangle's fingers. "It has to have some sort of memory! There's gotta be traces of it left in there!"

"It can't remember. It doesn't have a soul to remember with."

"I'm a soul!" The triangle pointed at himself with a hundred arms. "Me! I remember! The whole dimension remembers!"

There was the hiss. The ever-present hiss that the Axolotl heard any time he was inside Dimension Zero, the static in the speakers, the last gasp of a dying big bang, the whisper murmur scream battering against the walls. Fear shivered up his spine. How was it audible from within his tank?

He tried to push down his fear. "You're not the whole dimension."

The triangle laughed. It was a chilling sound.

"Just—consider how much more you'd lose if it doesn't work the way you want it to. What will you do if you can't fix your dimension?"

"I can," he said. "If I can't fix it, no one can."

Why did he think he was more capable than gods who'd maintained the multiverse for trillions of years? "What if you're wrong?"

"I will fix it," the triangle said stubbornly.

"TELL ME WHAT YOU'LL DO IF YOU CAN'T FIX IT!"

The triangle literally shrank back, growing smaller as he sank into the Axolotl's beanbag. "Keep doing what I'm doing now! Partying!" He let out a half hysterical giggle. "I'll party til I die!"

"Set off a big bang in an unstable pseudo-dimension, and you will die! The kind of death no one comes back from!"

"Great!"

They both froze. Neither one of them had expected him to say that.

"Kidding," the triangle croaked. "I just—I just—I'm trying to get under your skin, pinky, that's all. Is it working? Don't answer that, that wasn't my question, that was—rhetorical. I'm assuming that stuff you've got is skin, anyway." The prattle was hollow and meaningless. "The point is, I'm the dream realm's eternal party host, and I'm not stopping this party for anything, no matter what you say, and—and that's it. That's all there is to it!"

He must have witnessed so many horrors, in so little time—his universe incinerating, his people dying, Dimension Zero constantly collapsing even as he attempted to prop it up, the dimensions above him twisting and warping as their people fell into his nightmarish realm...

The Axolotl slowly flew closer to the triangle.

"Oh, come on— don't," the triangle whined. "Whatever little speech you're about to make, don't, I don't wanna hear it—"

Gently, the Axolotl said, "I know you've lost your home."

The word "home" struck a note with the triangle. He didn't flinch, his expression didn't change; but he went still. He looked down at the compacted ruin of what used to be his whole universe.

"But it's not too late for you to find a new home," the Axolotl said. "You can still move on and rebuild. There's a future for you. If you come out, I'll help you navigate the afterlife system. If you're stuck in this dimension, we'll find a way to free you."

The triangle's face darkened.

"You can be reincarnated, or resurrected, or—just set free to be an energy being if you want. You can settle down in a neighboring dimension, join a new people—"

"No. I'm not about to be a couch surfer in someone else's universe." He glowered up at the Axolotl. "Those people will join me. Everyone can either join me, or—or get out of my way! I finally made my kingdom, I'm not giving up my crown now!"

"If you keep your crown, you'll kill your kingdom! You know that if you stay here you'll destroy everything, I know you know it!"

"It's the best option I have! Better than your plan, anyway! Surrender to the cops and let my world fall apart?" He laughed harshly. "No way, Buster! I told my people I'd liberate them from our flat, oppressive little world and take them to a party paradise, and that's exactly what I'm gonna make for them!" He held out his little pearl of a universe again, the paradise-to-be.

Before, he'd said that the dream realm was his paradise. He'd also said that he'd remake his destroyed universe exactly as it had been. How could the "oppressive" world they'd left be their paradise? Nevermind the fact that none of "his people" were from his world. Which of the stories he'd invented was the truth? Which did the triangle think was the truth? Did he even know?

"If all of this is for your people—would you risk them? If trying to build a paradise kills the very people you made it for—"

"They'd never know."

The Axolotl's blood ran cold. It took a moment for him to find his voice. "What?"

"I can keep the party going until the end. They'd never find out what's coming. If the dream realm collapses, it'll be too fast for them to tell what's happening," the triangle said. "In their final moments, they'll still remember me as a hero."

The Axolotl hadn't realized until that moment just how cold the triangle's expression was.

His mind flashed to seeing VENDOR earlier that day, hustling the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force to clean up this mess faster because THEY didn't want the journalists to claim THEY had mishandled the situation during an election season.

Was that all the triangle was?

Another politician more concerned with how his constituents saw him than with what he could do for them?

"But," the Axolotl said weakly, "I've watched how you rescue the mortals from the fires. I've seen how you're struggling to keep this dimension from collapsing on them. I've seen how much you're suffering. You're running yourself ragged to protect them. You want so badly for them to be safe."

The triangle seemed to brighten at the Axolotl's words, as though he was soaking in the high praise. "Well, sure! And they love me for it! Would any god do less for his worshipers? Would you?" His voice took on a bitter tone. "But I don't know of any god who'd stick his corner out for a nonbeliever—and that's what they'll be if I don't deliver on the paradise I promised. I take my party hosting seriously. I'll give them their paradise if it kills me. Or them. Or everyone, if that's what it takes."

He was no hero. He never had been. He didn't care about the countless souls he'd collected, only their worship.

He didn't want his people to be safe; he just wanted to be his people's savior.

If I can't fix it, no one can. The triangle hadn't meant no one else was able to. He'd meant no one else was allowed to. He'd rather die than let someone else fix his mistakes.

And he would. This was a mass suicide.

No. Worse than that—it was a mass murder-suicide.

"You already lost your world once," the Axolotl said desperately, "don't you remember what that was like?"

The triangle flinched back like the Axolotl had slapped him. The tank rumbled around them; the hissing whispers grew louder. "That's... none of your business! Stop talking about my world, you don't know the first thing about it—"

"I know how much you must miss it. I know how deeply losing your people must hurt." It must have hurt, why would he have clung to what was left of his world if it didn't, why would he be so determined to rebuild it exactly as it had been?

"My—my people are fine." His voice was choked. He squeezed his eye shut. "They're... all out at the party. Waiting for me. Don't talk about—"

"The people at the party are shapes you kidnapped from other dimensions." He was so stubbornly loyal to his chosen delusions. "Your people are dead. You know they are!"

"No!"

His scream was answered by howls outside the Axolotl's tank. Through the static, the Axolotl could pick up a sound repeated over and over. A word. Murderer, murderer, murderer.

"No! They aren't dead! I saved them!" He curled in on himself, hands pressed to his sides like it could block out the sounds. "I liberated them from their shallow lives! I gave them their freedom—"

"Then give them their freedom now!"

The triangle's breath hitched.

"If you want to die, you can die. There are ways to break a soul. I can help. But do it alone," the Axolotl pled. "I know you care about these people!" He had to believe it, he had to believe it, he had to. In spite of the evidence to the contrary, he had to. "If you won't let us help you, at least let us help them go home. Please. You need to let them go."

He clenched his tiny hands into fists; he looked so pained the Axolotl thought he might shatter.

In another timeline, a better timeline, he whispered, "How?" The word he should have said echoed around them, blending into the static whispers. It would be so easy to say.

But in this timeline, he asked, "You're some kind of lawyer or something, right?"

The Axolotl paused uneasily. "By... way of metaphor," he said. "We have trials and courts, but not the way mortals understand—"

"There are no laws in my kingdom," the king growled. "Get out of here. Now."

"But—"

"I said OUT!"

A force crashed into the time and space between time and space, shattering the Axolotl's tank, the glittery cotton candy nebulas' pinks and blues disrupted by a twisted geyser of colors—raw frothing stuff somewhere between matter and energy—and it flung the Axolotl away from the triangle like a wave flinging a fish from the ocean. The anxious background static whispers grew to a buzzing roar, 1000 decibel white noise. He spun dizzily through the cosmic miasma.

The first time he'd come in here—the first time the triangle had chased him out—he'd felt instinctively that he'd been in danger. He'd felt flames licking at his heels.

He knew now that that had been a mere warning.

"I might be in your dream, but your dream is in MY dream realm!" The triangle seemed to get larger without his size changing. Maybe it was the universe around him that was contracting. "And you've overstayed your welcome, Axolotl!"

The Axolotl had tumbled into the nightmarish eternal dance party. Shrieking overlapping music drowned out the buzzing whispers. Thousands of eyes stared at him in horror and thousands of voices gasped in disgust; and he realized that as many times as he'd seen them, he had never been in their two-dimensional field of view.

For all the thousands that stared at him, millions of corpses never stopped dancing.

One last time, the Axolotl turned to the triangle and pled, "Just give the hostages the option to leave if they want!"

"My people aren't hostages!"

"Then give them a choice!" He could feel dead hands grabbing at his skin and fins. He wasn't sure if they were trying to restrain him for their Magister Mentium, or cling to him for escape. He wasn't even sure whether they were the dead who still had their own souls, or the triangle's corpse puppets. "Anyone who wants to stay with you can!"

"Shut up!" The triangle boomed louder and louder and he grew larger and larger, until his voice and his eye seemed to fill the universe. He was shuddering with rage (with regret?)—it threatened to shake him apart, and the universe with him. "All of this is your fault! I'm—sick because of you!" In another reality he said insane; but the realities where he didn't closed up around the word and crushed it into silence. "You made me like this! You infected me!"

"With what?" He'd only spoken to the triangle once before today. He hadn't even entered his dimension.

"This—idea!" He didn't say what idea, not in this reality; but the words echoed in from another reality where he did. He screamed to drown the echoes out. "I was fine until I met you and you ruined everything!" Regret spilled out of his eye so thick it was almost palpable, energy like a river. It threatened to fill the interdimensional in-between space and drown them all. The Axolotl could taste the idea that had poisoned the triangle: the idea that everyone mattered. That everyone was worthy of a god's attention. And now, everyone was gone.

Bewildered, the Axolotl said, "You're not 'sick' to think that. It's the sanest idea you could have—"

"Get out!" The shriek echoed through infinity. "Get out! The dream realm is my domain and I am its king! I told you last time, I won't let you threaten my people!"

"I would never—"

"GET OUT!" Blue flames exploded out of the triangle; some of his nearest prisoners were incinerated as easily as tissue paper.

The Axolotl tried to shield himself; the flames consumed one of his forelegs and ate away at his dorsal fin.

He tore himself free of the desperate grasping shapes and swam from the triangle as fast as he could.

The triangle chased him; and, to the Axolotl's despair, as the center of Dimension Zero followed the triangle, the edge of reality pulled ever further away.

His flames licked at the Axolotl's tail, consuming the fin; he swam slower and slower.

As the triangle pursued the Axolotl, his attacks further destabilized the volatile dimension; wormholes formed where the fabric of reality folded and bunched in on itself and was pierced through. Light shot through the holes like a million disembodied sunbeams. 

He saw one that led straight to the edge of Dimension Zero. He wriggled through.

"Where did you—?! HEY!" The dimension whirled dizzyingly as the triangle refocused on his evasive prey. "You think you can get away from me in my own realm?" 

"Do you want me to get out or not?!"

"I want you DEAD!"

The Axolotl shouldn't have asked.

With a roar, the triangle clawed at him. A thick, sucking wave of gravity as dense as a black hole tore through the unstable miasma toward him. The triangle laughed sadistically.

With one last surge of energy, he paddled his tail hard enough to outpace the triangle and burst free of the dimension.

The ragged edges of Dimension Zero ripped further under the triangle's attack, but it dissipated in the third dimension.

The Axolotl sighed in relief—then flinched when the triangle crashed into the invisible barrier holding the cosmic foam in the space-between-space where Dimension Zero should have been. Like a piece of glitter sticking to a bubble, if glitter sticking to a bubble were the most violent force in the universe. "Get back here! I'll skin your freakish hide and make a tent outta it—!" He strained toward the Axolotl, threatening to drag the bubble along with him, like a particularly determined sled dog trying to pull a trailer home.

The Axolotl hastily backed out of range as nauseating plumes of color stretched outside their bounds again. Blue fire danced over the thin membrane between dimensions like a burning oil spill on an ocean. The plumes twisted into shapes almost like arms, hundreds of them, reaching toward him—

And froze. The triangle was staring past the Axolotl.

The Axolotl turned to look.

It was the most sublimely awful sight he'd ever seen. An impenetrable wall made up of gods, angels, sentient forces of nature—there were things here so transcendentally powerful that the Axolotl couldn't even see them; he only knew they were present by the perimeters of the space he couldn't bring his eyes to gaze upon and the terrifying awe he felt when he tried.

They were all armed.

All their weapons were pointed at the triangle.

Apparently, the ATTF had called in reinforcements.

A god that looked like a hologram projection, the light of its projector shining down on it from a higher dimension like a halo, thundered, "ADVANCE ANY FURTHER INTO REALITY, AND WE WILL BE FORCED TO SUBDUE YOU."

"You can't afford to!" the triangle crowed. "You'll knock your own universes down!"

"NOT ANYMORE."

The triangle's eye widened. The thousand arms of raw reality seized the jagged edges of the dimensions bordering the hole left when Dimension 2 Delta burned down, trying to crush them—and nothing happened. He slammed Dimension Zero against the bordering dimension, trying to crack open a larger opening, and then trying to simply shove the bordering dimensions aside—and nothing happened. Dimension Zero burned; but the surrounding first and second dimensions remained still. There was no creak and crack of snapping lines and shattering planes as the triangle tried to squeeze his bloated universe free. There was no glowing line of fire on the distant horizon.

The neighboring dimensions burned and blackened under the thousand hands; but they didn't dissolve to ash. The cinders got caught between the layers together as the dimensions splintered into layers, then multiplied—splintered and multiplied—splintered and multiplied—thicker and denser and harder—

Parallel universes. Every time the triangle touched them, they split into more timelines, reinforcing themselves. The Time Giant already reformatted the universes most closely adjacent to Dimension Zero. Not every universe—but just enough to form a cage.

The triangle gave up with a grunt of pain. He laughed in disbelief—and then anger. "You were the distraction?"

"No! I was supposed to talk you into cooperating with building the fireproof foundation! We agreed to only call in reinforcements if I couldn't persuade you!" He looked around for the Time Giant, but couldn't find her—nor any of the other gods he'd spoken to while dealing with this mess. Everyone, apparently, had been cleared out of the vicinity to make way for the god militia.

The only civilian left on the 3D side of the missing wall was the Axolotl—once again, stuck in the middle of a situation he had no business being involved in.

The triangle's eye widened further, further, white hot with fury. "Nothing's ever your fault, is it, frills?! Every time you ruin my life, it's all a big misunderstanding! You just keep talking your way out of trouble!" His eye opened wider and wider still. His eyelid unhinged. His mandibles split open and at the back of his eye socket was an infinitely dark esophagus. Sprouting in a ring around the triangle's eye like the petals of a grisly flower, piercing the membrane between the zeroth dimension and the third, were millions and millions of—

—teeth. Teeth longer than the spaces between stars and sharp enough to split an atom.

The Axolotl only barely managed to paddle back out of their range before they snapped at where he had been. A couple of the higher gods caught him, holding his sides protectively. His skin sizzled with holy electricity.

The god militia drew back from the gnashing fangs, then readied their own weapons: spears, guns, swords, a wider array of divine and holy weaponry than the Axolotl had ever seen. The projection leading the militia called, "DON'T LET HIM MAKE IT PAST THE FIREPROOF BARRIER."

"Afraid I'll start breaking things again?" The fangs snapped tauntingly. "Hey—how fast do you think I can find the load-bearing dimensions?"

The Axolotl shook off the gods and swam back toward Dimension Zero. "Stop!"

"HOLD FIRE!" The projected god commanded, "OUT OF THE WAY, AXOLOTL. THE MULTIVERSE'S SAFETY IS WORTH MORE THAN YOUR LIFE."

He knew it was. The leader of the militia was so powerful that resisting a direct order made the Axolotl dizzy—but he did resist. He shouted at the triangle, "You can't fight off every god in the multiverse! This is suicide!" He realized too late that that probably wasn't as discouraging as he'd intended it to be.

"So what?! There's no way for me to win! Get executed for god crimes or get erased when the dimension collapses—"

"Those aren't your only choices!" The Axolotl could see the fangs slowly, slowly curling up in his peripheral vision, and pretended he didn't. "It's not too late for you to stand down—!"

"I can't!" A wave of fire blazed up the teeth of the Dream Realm. He held up a fist, and it was far too small for any of the gods, so mighty and large, to see what he held; but the Axolotl knew. "If I don't get a happy ending, why shouldn't I burn the rest of you down with me?! At least I'll accomplish one thing before I go!" His hand began glowing as energy began gathering around the tiny seed of a big bang.

"Do you want your worshipers to remember you as a monster in their last moments?!"

"Better a monster than a LOSER!" His laugh was a strained subsonic roar. "Are fame and infamy really that different?! At least they'll be thinking about me at the end!"

"It would make you a terrible party host!"

The Axolotl didn't know what had possessed him to say that. Apparently the triangle didn't know what to make of it either, because he froze, giving the Axolotl a wide-eyed blank stare.

But it worked. He snapped out of his rage. The light gathering around the remains of Dimension 2 Delta went dark. For a moment, he was frozen, giving the Axolotl a wide-eyed blank stare; and then he laughed again, just as strained, much weaker. The borders of Dimension Zero shuddered with his laughter. "Fair enough!" The appendages stretching out into the third dimension lost definition. "Fair enough." He glowered tiredly at the god militia—but raised his hands in surrender. Both his palms were empty.

The trembling fangs dissolved as they retracted. The whole paradoxical mass sagged sluggishly back into the crawlspace underneath reality.

One by one, the god militia slowly lowered their weapons.

The Axolotl's heart was still hammering in his chest; and only then did it register that he'd nearly been eaten by an entire dimension.

Where had his power come from? How had the triangle done all this—made his whole dimension vanish without a trace, shoved an entire plane inside a point, gained complete control over it all...

He really did have complete control over the entire universe that had formed inside Dimension Zero—didn't he?

And to control an entire universe, he needed to have an entire universe's worth of energy.

Dimension 2 Delta had been an entire universe. And now—all of its energy was in Dimension Zero.

With the triangle.

As he watched the triangle wincing in pain as the Dream Realm sank back into place, as though the triangle could feel the way the edges of the neighboring dimensions dug into the frothing chaos, the Axolotl whispered, "Oh, no. What have you done?"

His power had come from his own universe. He had devoured it. He'd made it part of him.

All that energy wasn't stored inside the triangle's body—but the Axolotl had been wrong to think that the triangle was the body in the first place. The triangle was only the face: the eye, the mouth, the mind. The part of the Dream Realm that could speak.

The Dream Realm was the anglerfish—and the triangle was its pretty golden glowing lure. They were all one monster.

The triangle was slumped in defeat, but still he shot the Axolotl a tired glare. The hissing static whispers rose up around him again, spilling out of the Dream Realm. (The whispers, too, were a part of the triangle.) "Who are you to judge," he muttered. "You weren't there."

No, he wasn't. He'd gotten here too late.

Behind the Axolotl, the god projection said curtly, "APPREHEND THE TRIANGLE WHILE HE'S COMPLIANT."

The Axolotl whirled around, eyes glowing with rage. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" The gods who had started moving toward Dimension Zero froze again.

"HE'S A THREAT TO THE MULTIVERSE!"

"He stood down!" 

"HE'S PROVEN WILLING TO DESTROY REALITY. HE COULD EASILY CHOOSE TO AGAIN." The higher dimensional projector turned to project straight at the Axolotl, dazzling him even through his shut eyes, shining straight into his brain. "STAND. ASIDE."

"No." The Axolotl tensed his muscles against the compulsion to obey. "He was a threat to the multiverse. Once the last walls are closed over the crawlspace, he won't be anymore. If he doesn't make a move between now and then, you have no grounds to pursue him." It was a little easier the second time to resist the higher god's command. "So if you do follow him out of the third dimension to capture him, you're trespassing in a new god's sovereign territory to make an illegal arrest outside your jurisdiction!"

"HE'S MASSACRED TEN DIMENSIONS AND TRIED TO DESTROY MORE. THERE ISN'T A COURT IN REALITY THAT WOULD CONSIDER PURSUING HIM UNJUSTIFIED."

"I know a few."

"YOU'RE DEFENDING A DIVINE MENACE. WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

He quietly kissed his career prospects goodbye as he watched himself do the stupidest thing he'd ever done. "I'm the Axolotl," said the Axolotl, "and I'm his lawyer!"

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 8 of a 9 part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting the last chapter next week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl deal with having gotten his heart broken by this sweet little triangle who actually isn't sweet.

It's ALSO chapter 61 Part Eight of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: this was The Big One, gang. And now I expect for the next several months I'm gonna get comments from y'all rereading earlier chapters going HOLD ON WAS THIS LINE FORESHADOWING THAT LITERALLY THE ENTIRE NIGHTMARE REALM IS PART OF BILL? And the answer is: yes. yes it was. Looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!! 💕

also this was THE absolute hardest chapter to write, goddamn.)

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── you, blanket forts and heated kisses

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! (and some heated kisses lmao)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: hiii! this is a continuation of this fic right here! you don't need to read that one to understand this, but they're taking place in the same universe. enjoyy and let me know what you think!! <33

“Let’s build a blanket fort.”

Said Hyunjin randomly on a stormy day, right after kissing you stupid and taking away your ability to think.

Unfortunately for him, you later engaged in an activity far different from the one he suggested, so different that he forgot all about his initial idea for the remainder of the week.

Until now, when you’re found in the same predicament – your beloved has come over with the biggest smile, elated to see you after spending the past month apart. Everything was fine and dandy until the sky suddenly darkened and it started pouring, trapping you both inside the apartment and cancelling all plans you might’ve made outside.

At least this time, the harsh weather took pity on your unfortunate soul and allowed the power to stay on.

“Alright, so it says here we can use chairs, a table, or even the couch for our fort.”

“Did you seriously pull up a wikihow article?”

You turn to him, a little embarrassed at being caught, his genuine laughter making heat rush to your face at an alarming pace. No words escape you and he coos, dropping the big pillows he got from your bedroom before stepping over them to hug you from behind, holding you close while his lips pepper sweet kisses from your cheek down to your neck.

“That’s adorable, baby.” Hyunjin nuzzles your neck, placing one last kiss on your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder. “What else is your little article recommending?”

“Don’t make fun of me.” You whine, attempting to turn around in his arms with no success, quickly settling on hiding your face and embarrassment in your hands, just so he won't see them.

He’s laughing again, tenderly spinning you around by your hips so you’re face to face. “I’m not, baby. I’m just curious why you thought I don’t already possess all the knowledge we need.” He points to his temple, after prying your hands away from the beautiful face that has started to appear in his dreams almost daily.

“Alright, Bob the builder, knock yourself out.” You nod towards the mess he’s made on the floor, to all the pillows, blankets, and sheets he’s stolen from your room. His wish to build a fort made a lot of sense if you take into consideration his ferret nature he always denies. The tiny animal thrived on alone time, hid away in a secluded place away from everyone.

He gasps, bringing his hands to his chest as if he could really fool anyone into believing he’s actually offended. “I’ll have you know I’m an artist! An architect if you will! That guy has nothing on me.”

Giggling, you can’t help but get closer to kiss his pout away, bringing his smile back instantly. “Of course, you are love. The best of them all.”

“Are you making fun of me?” And just as it disappeared, his natural pouty lips can’t help but jut out.

You shake your head, amused at how the tables have turned. “Never.” Then, with the softest touch, you intertwine your fingers and begin dragging him along to the materials he abandoned in the middle of the room. “I’ve never built a fort before.”

“Never?” The look on his face is incredulous, pulling you by the hand to his chest to tenderly kiss your temple, feeling clingier than usual. “Let’s get down to business then.”

Turns out, building a blanket fort is as easy as reading a wikihow article, especially when your Loverboy does most of the work and knows exactly what to use to make it all happen. With the tripod he left at your place, you balance the sheets, keeping them up and creating the perfect opening to your little den of comfort and secrets. Your U-shaped couch was sturdy, assisting your building activities with the many ornamental pillows that became trusty pillars.

You don’t know how much time passed, absorbed into your current task, laughing away with your beloved and teasing each other in good fun. At some point, you get distracted and as he’s ranting away about something that happened at practice, one of your soft pillows collides with the side of his head. Hyunjin stops dead in his tracks, words dying on his tongue as he slowly stands from his crouched position while you try everything in your power to not burst out laughing in his face.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” You feign innocence, gingerly hiding the pillow behind your back like nothing has happened.

Hyunjin stares you down, the intensity in his gaze almost making you confess. Almost. The obvious glint of mischief in his eyes tells you he has an unused card under his sleeve, one you should not ignore.

Without another word, he stretches his arm and beckons you closer with two fingers, obviously expecting surrender. And the pillow that has now become his number one enemy.

When you shake your head and smile brightly, he pauses for a total of five seconds before stepping closer to take matters into his own hands. That’s your cue to flee, so you run in the opposite direction, laughing loudly when he follows and you begin chasing each other around the apartment like little kids.

He’s letting you get away, pretending to be slower and clumsily stumbling over his feet just so your laugh can continue warming his heart, providing the flowers in his chest with the sunshine needed to bloom to maturity.

Then, out of nowhere, he manages to sneak behind you, arms circling your middle and pulling you to his chest with ease, lifting your feet off the ground as both of your laughter blend beautifully. Hyunjin begins attacking you with kisses all over your face and you stop pretending you want to get away, melting into his embrace and fully accepting your fate.

“Caught you.” He says in a sing song voice, over the moon at having you in his arms once again.

Your hands move over his, pillow falling to the ground with a soft thud as you lean back, head on his shoulder to reach his plump lips and press numerous kisses over them. When you move to pull away, one of his hands instantly comes up to cup your cheek to keep you there, tongue sneaking past your lips cheekily. The air shifts instantly as he hugs you closer, kissing you as he needs it to keep living, strong arms serving as an anchor while your body’s buzzing like you’re intoxicated, tingling all over.

Summoning all of your willpower, you manage to pull away from him for the briefest moment. “Just because I let you.”

Hyunjin smiles but you have a feeling it’s an automatic response, his brain not actually processing any of your words as he dives back in, impatient to feel your lips on his once again.

Kissing Hyunjin was always an experience, full of love and passion that had you weak in the knees – but kissing him after not seeing each other for a while felt like the air in your lungs was running out and him, out of the kindness of his heart, kept you alive by sharing his breath with you.

You turn in his arms, just like earlier, but oh so different, one hand gripping his tank top while the other sneaks its way into dark hair, pulling lightly to deepen the kiss which makes him groan lowly. Hyunjin’s grip on your hips burnt, your whole body on fire as he explored it to his heart’s desire, handling you in the exact way one would a priceless sculpture, a work of art he couldn’t look away from no matter how hard he tried.

He tasted divine, and his cologne made you dizzy, just like everything about him did. Without warning, he begins moving, pushing back and guiding your body expertly, biting down on your bottom lip right before breaking the kiss, to your great disappointment.

“Baby.” His voice is hoarse, breath shaky, a nervous laugh escaping him at the look on your face. “Our fort.”

With a groan, you ignore him in favour of placing sweet, open-mouthed kisses up his neck. “You have been driving me crazy with that fort of yours, Hyun.”

His grip on your hips is a warning, sending you mixed signals as he can’t resist but connect your lower halves, needing you as close as possible while he tilts his head back with a heavy breath. “And here I thought that was my irresistible personality.”

You grin, looking up at him while holding onto his biceps for support. “Nope, only your blabbering mouth.”

The tension dissipates as he laughs, eyes wandering and pupils blown even as you tear yourself from him and exhale, trying your best to calm down before going back to the fort you’ve both worked so hard on.

In the end, after weeks and weeks of waiting, you and Hyunjin are finally in your very own blanket fort, giggling like two children who have somehow forgotten what has just transpired a few moments ago.

“This is nice.” You hum, resting your head on his shoulder, glancing at the fairy lights he somehow managed to hang up. You’re both sitting cross-legged on some pillows, surrounded by snacks and blankets.

“I told you I got this. I didn’t need any help or tutorial.” He puffs out his chest, obviously proud he impressed you.

You nod, eyes almost fluttering shut, his bare shoulder surprisingly comfy. “Good job, Bob.”

The words barely have time to escape before you get a pillow to the face, the soft feathers getting into your mouth and startling you awake. You’re frozen in place, not realizing what happened until Hyunjin starts laughing next to you, delighted at the stunt he just pulled.

You push his shoulder, biting back a smile and he laughs harder, toppling over while hugging the pillow to his chest. A part of the sheet gets caught under him and before you know it, the whole thing collapses on top of you, trapping you under along with all the decorations and food neither got to enjoy.

It’s silent for a second before your laughter joins his as you reach to help him sit up, only for him to lose his balance and fall over you, feeling a little claustrophobic under the restrictive sheet. Holding himself up above you with his bulging arms, eyes two crescent moons and engulfing the whole room in a light that could only be produced by him, you move to squish his cheeks together. Lovingly, of course.

“I love you so much, my little liar. But I’m revoking your architecture license.”

Fortunately, Hyunjin didn’t look disappointed in the slightest.

[luminatricky]

Vampire? In Gotham! (part 1)

Summary: Danny's 19, a prince, a halfa, and tired of being these things. So he jumps on the idea of a vacation as soon he's given the hint of a chance. The only caveat is that he's going to go undercover as a vampire in a big city - Gotham - far from his home dimension. He finds it's easier than he thought it would be. He's already mostly there.

Relationships: Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton), John Constantine & Danny Fenton

Um? Inspired by several prompts and other fanfics. Lost Between Our Needs and Wants AU definitely, with a background Danny's summoned by Ra's as Damian as a sacrifice. Nothing bad happens (to Damian) don't worry. Also, the one in which Danny decided to fight ghosts as a human too.

And John is almost definitely ooc, he's a character I enjoy a lot even though I don't have a firm grasp of his canon.

Danny's afterlife has been way too interesting for way too long. It's gotten to the point that when things suddenly go quiet for months, he hardly hesitates to give his "human" life some over-due attention.

For obvious reasons he's not going to try his "vacation" in his own dimension. Anyone he once might have stayed for know how to get a hold of him, whenever and wherever.

The Amity Park portal is still open. But between the stricter laws on ghosts wanting to use permanent portals he managed to get passed, and the increasingly feral ways the townsfolk have begun defending each other with, Danny feels confident to finally...let go. In his heart, he had always thought of it as still his, despite not being there to maintain it in truth. But now it's not his Haunt anymore, fully and completely.

They don't need him anymore.

And Danny doesn't want to be needed like that again, to be honest. He sacrificed so much to play hero because he got it into his head that he had to do everything alone in the end. As if he was the only one who could kick ghost butt on the daily in town.

Thankfully, a nineteen year old Danny is smarter than a fourteen year old Danny. He's learned the art of delegation. Any tasks that he doesn't need to be present for, he has a whole team of ghostly assistants to handle things for him. The major multidimensional crises have for the most part been solved - his protection Obsession at the very least fed. And quite a few skeleton thralls he freed near the beginning of his reign were suddenly looking for direction. Among them, a decent amount found the talent and fulfillment in positions of bureaucratic power that Danny never will, filling up spots he's unwilling to give out like the candy the various ghosts of nobility treat the roles as. Or ghost nobility. Like the Ancients. Quite a few of the Ancients are assholes.

(At least all the murderous Ancients aren't problems anymore)

With all their help, he's able to occasionally pop in to do paperwork, meet with the High Court for various lawmaking and judicial decisions, and listening to official petitions to the Crown from his people. It's all good. No mountains of unseen paperwork, no audience with the Observants every waking moment, no one across the Realms screaming desperately for help. Even some of the cults have finally caught on that he's not Pariah!

So Danny starts the process of finding a new Haunt for his new, normal, alive alter ego. Staying as long as he has in the Realms couldn't have been sustainable long-term if he didn't want to become a full ghost. As complicated as his relationship with his humanity is these days, he still doesn't want to die again. And Frostbite definitely has been pushing him to finding new territory, in the Infinite Realms or otherwise. Because even for full ghosts going Hauntless for long periods is straining. To say the least.

Although, being just a human again...didn't sit right. Even after all this time. His human form is still one Danny Fenton, in his eyes.

He can never be Danny Fenton again. He accepted that his duties as Crown Prince would keep him away from the identity of the ghost hunter's ghost hunting son, who went to Casper high and had terrible grades in everything but science; the kid who was shoved into lockers and who was addicted to Nasty Burger and played DOOMED with his friends and who wanted to be an astronaut. He accepted that he had to leave that all behind, and be full ghost in all but form. His parents wouldn't want him if they knew everything he lied about, anyways. He didn't actually deserve the name Fenton.

His new Haunt would preferably be in a place where he could reasonably pass himself off as another species, then, and still be safe. Safer than being a ghost at least. Most universes had well-deserved folklore against the Realms. His people are not inherently malevolent...But he knows that they don't play nice and careful with the living.

He would need an ectoplasm rich environment, too. A big city with lots of crime would go a long way for providing the ambient death and fear vibes that would attract Blobs like a bee to nectar. It would also make it feel like the Infinite Realms - hopefully. He's gotten accustomed to that kind of environment. He thinks he may never sleep again in a place quiet and safe.

He'd like a place with a rich history too. Just for fun!

Danny mulls it over carefully, narrowing down universes he could reasonably start his search in. The only universe he can think of with extensive protections for the non-human written into law is one far-flung flavor of an Earth he's semi-familiar with. He's been there twice, both at 16, just starting out and stressed to hell and back with the sheer load of unattended problems Pariah left to rot.

Both times he'd been more than he'd have liked. One Ra's Al Ghul wasn't technically his problem. He was no one's problem now, and that was current Danny's whole issue with it.

John Constantine is an unlamented saint for putting up with a feral teenaged Danny's slap dash attempt at helping the both of them - John with his soul related doom, and Danny with his paperwork related misery.

But. Considering how he handled the contract with Al Ghul, Danny can't blame John for hesitating to renegotiate their terms already. Ra's Al Ghul was an idiot who gave him what he thought was the life of his grandson, in exchange for immortality.

Him. The Prince of the Dead. Immortality.

Thankfully, the wording was imprecise. What he actually traded was the kid's really cool sword - the kid kneeling, terrified eyes meeting his before darting away, offering his own sword to let Danny slit his throat and "collect his due sacrifice", Danny not being able to breathe through his own fear - for pure ectoplasm, with instruction to drink it everyday until he ran out.

This of course killed even him months later from over-exposure.

The man probably felt a mile high in the air, indestructible, right up until he crashed. Al Ghul promptly became a ghost. Which. Closest thing to true immortality the Prince of the Dead could offer him. He kept his end of the deal. It's not his fault that Al Ghul never specified that he didn't want to die to be immortal. It's also not his fault that Al Ghul had so many dead enemies and victims on the other side who were easy to find. It was ridiculously easy - they made a support group around being taken down by the LOA. And who was he to deny the dead their due vengeance?

Right. So John is understandably nervous about Danny owning all the pieces of his soul, no matter how much rapport they've built these past three years. Danny is mature enough to admit that it is his fault for that bit.

On the bright side for Danny, that means one grumpy occult detective in a sad trenchcoat is a guy who lives in his phone. Like an uncle-shaped tamagachi!

He scrolls though his contact list until he thumbs John's number. Surprisingly, instead of going to voicemail, he picks up on the first ring.

"Before you ask, yes I'm cashing in a favor, finally. No, it's nothing evil, I've just got the first actual free time I've had in five years and I'd like to get suggestions on a city to move to."

-------------------

John ended up giving a very detailed list in response. Suspiciously detailed, and hardly prompted. How long had John been thinking on this? And why?

Danny chalked it up to the man's reasonable paranoia when it came to him. John's aware he can pretend to be (fully) human with relative ease, afterall. And the older man knows where he'd need to be able to actually live long term. After-live. Whatever. Point is, John probably made it his business to know where any sneaky invasions would start if Danny ever became a little less morally ambiguous and a little more bloodthirsty.

Entirely fair! Pariah wasn't always a tyrant!

On the very top was Gotham, a city in this world's Jersey, and the crime capitol of the States. Plenty of ambient ectoplasm, and planty of charged emotions wafting from every street corner. He doesn't voice this, but Danny figures that there must be a whole community of ghosts already living there because of that double whammy.

Something about the city's name tickles his memory, but can't quite pin it down. If it was important he'd have remembered. Right?

John is thrown when he asks about his options of other non-humans Danny could reasonably get away with impersonating.

"And why," the occultist half-accuses, "would you of all spooks, want to live in Gotham, as a 'vacation', just to not even pretend to be normal?"

"First of all, ow. John you know just because someone is different doesn't mean they're not normal. I thought you were the cool uncle." He responds half-heartedly. Danny bites his bottom lip, rolling it between his sharp teeth as he tries to think of a part two to that answer that wouldn't get uncomfortably personal.

John doesn't rise to his bait. Danny hears him unscrew something metallic, then the sound of fluid swishing quietly from the other end. Ah.

The silence wears on. Danny should hang up. But winging things have always gotten him into bigger trouble. And John is the guy to call for this. Fuck. And he's bad at lying bold-faced.

Fine.

"I'm half human," Danny responds as if that would explain everything. It doesn't, so he manages to continue in a small voice that he doesn't even remember the last time he'd used. "Sometimes I still pretend to be one when I can't see any other way. But I had my chance at playing the part of both. And I royally screwed it up, literally! I became freaking royalty and I just couldn't anymore. As far as anyone but my doctor is concerned, I'm full ghost. I had a chance - I don't deserve another one. Screw ups don't get nice things."

John takes another swig from his flask, mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like 'of course he's a fecking halfa'. His voice is rough around the edges from whatever cheap booze he just drank a concerning amount of.

"Listen. Sounds like you've got trauma dripping from your ears, kid. But what's the point here, huh? Sounds like you want to be human without all the fuss of it." John drawls out.

Danny takes a deep breath in through his nose. He tries to fight down the feeling of being peeled open for the world to see - being afraid isn't helpful right now. He needs to be silly, nonchalant, like he's always been with John in tense situations. Why do they only talk when things are tense, anyways?

"Essentially. It's more like. I want to have all the human experiences I missed out on, but without having to hide being inhuman. That kinda thing."

"And you can't just be a ghost?"

"I really don't think anyone likes being ghosted."

"Don't you start on that. You know what I mean, Princeling."

"Fine. No, I can't be a ghost. That's boring and no one likes being haunted."

John gives a long sigh. After a beat, he acquiesces. "Alright. You could pull off vamps damn well. Got the hair for 'em. The teeth and claws are only slightly off. There's several clans with different looks the same way humans have ethnicities. Although, I don't think that's the same, now that I'm thinking about it. But subspecies doesn't fit either."

Danny hums, tilting his head in thought. "Like the difference between a banshee and a specter?"

"Yeah, like that. All vamps, just different enough, and no kind older than another to say they're the 'main' species." John clarifies. Another pause. "Unless you count Halfas. Which. Some people do but shouldn't. Bloody idiots."

Danny startles, nearly dropping his phone. "Excuse me?"

John snorts. "What? You didn't know?"

"Musta missed that part in the complimentary instruction manual they gave me for having my molecules redecorated." He snarks. "What do you mean I'm already a vampire?"

"I said people who don't know what they're talking about count Halfas as the original vampires. You lot have been around since the bloody dawn of time, it seems." John sounds exasperated.

"That's not what I - never have I ever wanted to take a chomp on anyone's pulse point, what the fuck?"

John gets that smug tone in his voice that Danny has a love-hate relationship with. "And exactly how many undead folks do you hang out with when you're feeling peckish?"

"...you can't be serious." Danny says instead of denying him. What can he even say to that? He's never met a Revenant or Ghoul.

"As the grave, I'm afraid."

When Danny doesn't outwardly respond for too many beats, John takes another chug. "Phantom?"

"John." He begins, pinching the bridge of his nose as more and more dots connect too cleanly for him. "You might be wrong."

"...What awful lore about your eldritch homeland is going to send me into my weekly crisis this time?" The detective groans out.

"Alright. So you know how part of my whole thing as the Prince makes it my job to stay aware of ectoplasmic diseases?"

John hums in acknowledgement, so Danny sucks in a deep breath. "Then you should know two things. One, that I've been to a few dimensions with vampires in them. And like you said, they're all different from each other. I didn't really pay much attention beyond helping the people survive these world-ending scenarios though.

Two, is that in each and every one of those realities, the vampirism was caused by a virus made by an Ancient - don't worry, they're gone. The disease itself is called False Halfa Syndrome. It was their attempt to weaponize Halfas back in Pariah's time."

"Oh shite." John says elegantly. "Bag o' shite!"

"Good luck on that crisis. Me too." Danny is hardly holding in hysterical laughter. "I can't believe Sam and Tucker were right about this. Holy shit."

"How in the world didn't you piece this together until now?!"

"I don't know! I just thought it was coincidence!"

"Bloody fucking hell, Phantom. Nevermind. You can play a vampire totally accurately because you are one. A ghost one." John growls. "Cause that just had to be a thing."

Danny carefully doesn't think about how Vlad might have legitimate claim to that vampiric aesthetic he's got going on. Instead, he's planning on stealing an aesthetic change for his own ruse.

"Nice. Should I know anything else while we're here?" He asks.

John gave a wry laugh, crackling over the phone's shitty old speakers. "About Gotham or your new undead existence?"

"Both." He says instantly. "Both is good."

"Gotham has vigilantes. The birds and bats are efficient, and they spook easy at unknowns. Batman's technically my coworker if we're gonna call the Justice League a job - we don't get paid for this. He and his family deal with the craziest lineup of human rogues I've ever had the displeasure. It's made him a healthy amount of paranoid. If you're doing anything nefarious, he'll find you. And then he'll call me."

Danny isn't exactly afraid of John. But Pariah wasn't afraid of Danny, either, so the halfa takes it seriously. Internally.

"Yeah yeah old man. You've got your eye on me and all that. Uh huh." He genuinely appreciates the warning, too, but messing with John is his bread and butter.

"Watch it, brat," John says with no real venom, unlike a moment ago. "Or I'll bring out the stakes."

"I take mine medium rare, thank you."

"Piss off."

"...About the vampirism?"

"Normal ghost bullshite applies. It's about the ecto, I think. You go absolutely nutters for the stuff in undead folk. Something about how ectoplasm interacts with the reanimated. Liminals are nutritious too, but I've been told it's the difference between cafeteria food and gourmet. One smells absolutely heavenly, the other is barely appetizing."

Oh Ancients is that why all his exes are Liminal? No, hold on, was part of the reason Vlad was so weird about him just ghost-vamp on ghost-vamp mutual hanger?

"What, I'm not the only Halfa in your life? John. I thought we had something special."

"Please don't make this weird. Do not flirt with me." John instantly scolds. "I know you're just being your little weird brand of playful, but I knew you when you were a kid shaped menace. C'mon."

Danny blinks. He didn't think he was flirting, but apparently he was. "Alright. Sorry, John."

There's a sudden crash on the other side of the phone. Followed by John's muffled cursing.

"Listen, I have to go. If you're serious about this I'll get you some good fakes. Text me with what you'd like your name to be." And then John hangs up. Danny smiles into the lingering silence.

------------

PhantomMenace: Dante Nightingale, pwetty please 0w0

God's Favorite Whore: That's the most main character name I've ever bloody seen.

God's Favorite Whore: You're from a dead family in Illinois, farm boy, meta. Had an accident at 14, with a near death experience for believability. You've also been missing since shortly after it. Anyone looking into you will think that's when you got "turned."

PhantomMenace: thats why your the cool uncle <3

God's Favorite Whore: This should count as another favor, don't you think?

PhantomMenace: Yup. I'll be nice

PhantomMenace: 💚 ~2/20 Favors until Soul Return~ 💚

[hopepetal]

This story is set in @applestruda's boatem knights au! I've wanted to write something with Gem for a while, so here it is!

Masterlist

Read on AO3!

It’s been so long since her last bounty, and Gem is itching for a fight. 

This much, she tells Cleo while watching the armorer work on their newest project. Gem’s frequent visits had allowed the two to grow close over the course of her bounty hunting career, to the point where it wasn’t always business that brought her there. Sometimes, it was just for casual conversation, or just because Gem was bored or passing through the area. 

Cleo raises an eyebrow, not looking up from her work. “Tell you what,” she begins, turning the chest plate slightly so that it could catch the light, “it’s all well and good that you want a fight until you get yourself caught up in one you can’t win.” 

Gem scoffs at that as she leans against the counter. “Oh, I never lose. You don't need to worry about me, Cleo.”

“That’s what Etho kept saying, before you chopped his damn head off.” 

Rolling her eyes, Gem flicks her braid behind her shoulder. “That was Etho. And, as you clearly haven’t forgotten, I was the one who did the chopping there. So thanks, but I think I’m good.”

Cleo chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Just return here in one piece, alright? I can’t be losing my best customer.”

Gem sets her elbows on the counter, leaning forward with a cheery grin. “Best customer and best friend?” 

“Get out.”

And so Gem finds herself wandering back to the kingdom of Dogwarts, in search of work and a fight. Maybe both. For her, it usually was. It’s why she chose this path of employment, of course– one didn’t just stumble into becoming a bounty hunter. Unless they were particularly skilled at said stumbling, of course. 

It’s been a while since Gem’s been in the bustling kingdom, and the stark difference between the outer lands and the kingdom always amazes her. She knew that the kingdom boasted the most prestigious redstone academy in the continent, but it’s another thing entirely to see that in action. 

Compared to the sparse population of the outer lands, the kingdom is a bustling city full of people. They continue to add on new developments each year, the construction drawing even more people to the kingdom for work on top of the people already moving in. It was certainly a far cry from the occasional village Gem stumbled upon in the outer lands.

The other difference that really stood out to her was the difference in how prevalent magic was. In the outer lands, magic is everywhere– from daily tasks to impressive feats, it was impossible to go one day without seeing some sort of spell. In the kingdom, it’s a lot more common to see redstone inventions being used in place of magic, though magic is still used. It was much more noticeable to Gem, who travels back and forth frequently between the two extremes. 

It wasn’t long before Gem ends up making her way into the local tavern, the place where she found most of the jobs she took. It’s rowdy as ever, and she finds herself missing the quiet of her friend’s tavern. Nevertheless, she quickly finds her usual seat and orders her usual drink, greeting the bartender with a tired smile. 

“Anything new?” she asks after a few minutes, when the bartender wasn’t so swamped with orders. 

The bartender shrugs. “Not really? But there was something that caught my eye.” They set down their glass for a moment and duck below the bar, grabbing a paper and placing it in front of Gem. “An older one, but it’s resurfaced recently with everyone cleaning out all the more urgent ones.” With that, the bartender gives her a pointed look, to which she responds with a laugh. “Anyway. A runaway who destroyed a very important lab of the king and escaped on foot with precious redstone and technology. He’s assumed to be armed and very dangerous.”

Gem pulls the paper to her, looking it over closely. It seemed to be an average bounty– especially for who had put it out. The man’s face is inked in an artistic depiction of him beneath his ‘WANTED’ notice and list of crimes. What most stands out to her is his incredibly sharp mustache and scruffy beard. “Mm… I see. And this was put out by the king’s advisor himself? I’m surprised it’s gone unclaimed for so long.”

The bartender shrugs, continuing to go about their job as they converse with Gem. “I think most people were daunted by the task. That, and those who tried to find this man simply couldn’t. He’s a slippery fellow, so I’ve been told.”

Gem laughs, her eyes not leaving the man’s inked face. “Well, I’ve been told I have quite the talent for catching those who hide in the shadows.” Quite literally, if she thought back to her last big job. Which, while it had technically ended in success, isn’t really something she wants to go through again. 

Gem had not signed up for magical creatures that revived when you cut off their heads. A simple redstone thief with a penchant for explosions? Yeah, she had this one in the bag. 

“I’ll take it,” she tells the bartender, folding up the paper and sticking it into her bag. “Sounds like a fun little job.” 

The bartender chuckles, shaking their head. “How long do you think this one’s going to take you?” they ask, already knowing Gem’s answer. 

“A month, tops.” She says this with the same confident smile that she always wears when going out on jobs. “Any more than that, and I owe you a drink.”

The bartender throws a towel over their shoulder, laughing. “Well, can’t wait for that to never happen. I’m sure you’ll be back even sooner than we expect as usual, with a story to tell.”

Finishing her drink, Gem stands back up. “I never disappoint,” she promises, sliding the payment for her drink over the table. “I’ll see you then! And thanks for the tip!” she calls, making her way out of the tavern.

It was time to go hunt down a redstoner. 

It actually isn't as hard as she thought. 

The man– Mumbo, his name is– has made a name for himself in the outer lands to the North. Gem can't help but be a little surprised. She's never had a bounty with such mixed public opinion; some people absolutely love him, while others want his head to roll. 

“That man?” Someone had scoffed when she asked, shaking their head. “Void below, I can't stand him. He's a genius, sure, but the noise he makes!” They had clicked their tongue disapprovingly. “And when I complained about it and asked him to be a little more quiet, he threw bricks through my window!”

Another person– a young woman– had a dreamy expression when Gem asked her about Mumbo. “He's such a cute knight! One time, he helped me get my cat down from a tree…” 

Her friend had raised an eyebrow. “Clara, he climbed up into the tree and fell off of it. Your cat got down all on her own.”

Clara hadn't responded, lost in her daydreaming.

The more she asks around, the more mixed answers she receives. 

Gem couldn't help but laugh at that. This bounty would be interesting, if nothing else. 

She finds the camp easily enough. All she has to do is ask where the knights are, and she's pointed in the right direction. It's almost a full day on foot– she leaves her horse at the nearest village to be more stealthy. 

It’s getting colder out. The leaves are beginning to shift from green to yellow and orange, sparks of red standing out amongst the others. Gem’s feet crunch against the ground as she travels down the path, hands stuck in her pockets to keep them warm. 

She’s been wandering around the area for about a week now, gathering intel on the group. From what she can tell, they’re a close group of four friends: Impulse, Grian, Scar, and her target, Mumbo. She doesn’t get close enough to really hear them talking. She’d heard of avians’ enhanced hearing and doesn’t want to take her chances with getting too close. If the stories she’d heard were true, she didn’t want to get caught by these guys. Especially given what she was here to do.

At one point, she got a little closer to the camp to listen in on a conversation. She had an extra invisibility potion, and she figured she could put it to use for this job. Though she knew enough about the so-called “knights”, more information couldn’t hurt. 

The one with brown hair and a very stabbable chest– his name is Scar, she recalls– leans against Grian, the avian of the group. “So, the plan is to head out tomorrow?”

Impulse nods. “Yep. You’re good to stay behind to keep Pearl company, Mumbo?”

Mumbo leans forward, his hands folded in front of him on the table. He looks so polite when he speaks that Gem can hardly believe he’s a hardened criminal. “Of course! I’ll make sure she doesn’t get too lonely.”

Gem frowns at that, but quickly shakes away the uncertainty. If there was another person here, she would’ve seen them by now. Pearl is probably the dog that was prowling around the camp.

Grian sighs and pushes Scar off him, standing up. “Well, I’m absolutely shattered, so I’m going to bed. We gotta get up early if we’re gonna be traveling tomorrow.” He looks up, gaze sweeping over the knights and then around the camp. 

At the same time, the wind shifts, and Scar stiffens. His eyes meet Gem’s. Gem sucks in a breath, and has to check to make sure her invisibility potion is still working. 

It is, but it doesn’t stop her from shivering as Scar’s gaze lingers, then pulls away.

After a moment, Scar stands, putting on a fake pouty face. “Aww, okay. Goodnight, G! Night, Impulse. Night, Mumbo!” 

A chorus of goodnights echoes from the group, and Gem slips away unnoticed. 

The forest is anything but quiet at night. Gem is safe up in the trees, and sleep comes easy to her after years of travel, but she remembers her first year of adventuring and the hellish noises that kept her up for hours.

A skeleton rattles below. Further away, a zombie groans. Gem leans against the tree and closes her eyes.

Gem rises with the sun and to the rhythmic sound of horse hooves against well-packed dirt. She exhales, breath turning to fog, before stretching. She turns her head to the side, tracking the sound of hooves. Only when it fades off into the distance does she untie herself from the branch and jump down, finally able to stretch fully.

She takes an hour or two to wake up and gather all her things. It’s almost midday by the time she sheathes her sword after warming up and begins her trek to the camp. It likely won’t come down to a fight, from what she knows about Mumbo, but one can never be too careful. She knows not to underestimate an enemy.

It is somewhat pathetic that she’s able to walk up right behind him without him even noticing, but Gem chalks that up to her being very good at her job.

“Hey there, Mumbo!” she greets, and can’t help but laugh as he shrieks and falls over backwards. “Oop, careful! Don’t hurt yourself.”

Mumbo scrambles back and to his feet, looking up at Gem with wide eyes. “What– what on earth– who are you?! How do you know my name?”

Gem tilts her head to the side, keeping the smile on her face. “I’m Gem. Nice to meet you.” She takes a step forward. “King Ren placed a bounty on your head, and I’m here to collect! Do you want to come with me willingly, or…?” She places a hand on the hilt of her sword.

Mumbo pales. “Well, look, okay, there’s been a misunderstanding!” He holds his hands up as he steps back, eyes darting around wildly. “There’s no need for violence! I’m a very peace loving guy! Peace, love, and plants, y’know!”

Gem raises an eyebrow. “By force, then! That’s cool!” She draws her sword.

Mumbo does what any average person would do– scream, then run away.

Gem, of course, chases. It’s easy enough to catch up to Mumbo and trip him, sending the taller man falling to the ground with another shriek. She quickly puts her sword to Mumbo’s throat, and he freezes.

“...please don’t kill me?” he asks after a moment, chest heaving as he stares up at her. “I don’t, I won’t lie to you, I don’t particularly want to die?” 

Gem laughs, shaking her head. “I’m not going to kill you. I just need to bring you back to the king so I can collect your bounty!” She pulls her sword away, twirling it in her hand. “Whatever happens to you after is on him, not me.” She tilts her head. “Also, didn't you have a beard?”

Mumbo blinks. “What? No, I– hold on, a beard?! I know they always get my mustache wrong, but a beard? And what do you mean, a bounty?”

Gem puts her sword back at Mumbo’s throat. “I think they have to hire a new portrait artist. Anyway! I need to take you to the King, so I can get paid, and you can be brought to justice, et cetera.”

“But we can talk about this!” Mumbo pleads. “Surely I could pay you or something, I have quite a lot of things, I–!”

The only warning Gem is given is Mumbo’s gaze darting to the side. Someone slams into her, sending her stumbling away.

Gem turns and sweeps her sword out in time to block the blade of a scythe. The impact jars both her and her attacker, giving Gem enough time to reorient herself.

The woman straightens up, and her fever-clouded eyes focus on Gem. Her wings are flared out, displaying eyespots that stare down at Gem. “Why are ya messin’ with my knights?” 

From where he’s fallen, Mumbo yelps, “Pearl!”

Ah. So this is the Pearl they had been talking about. Gem curses herself for making assumptions, then tightens her grip on her sword and grins. “You wanna fight? Fantastic!” 

Pearl lets out a sharp breath, and Gem doesn’t fail to notice how her hands tremble slightly holding her scythe. “Not very fair of you to attack Mumbo while he’s all alone, don't ya think?”

Gem laughs as she shifts into a fighting stance. “I’d say it’s more fair than a 2v1!”

“I’m staying out of this!” Mumbo interjects, continuing to back away. “Good luck, Pearl!”

Pearl tilts her head. “That fair enough for you?” She doesn’t wait for Gem to answer, folding her wings tight against her back and lunging for her. 

It’s been a while since Gem’s had a good fight. Since Etho, she thinks, though the fight with him had been made interesting by his strange abilities with shadows and ice. Pearl isn't using any magic– it's pure skill that Gem is fighting against, and it's been a while since she's fought anyone like this. 

As the fight goes on, though, it becomes more clear to Gem just how unfocused Pearl is. By the looks of it, she'd just rolled out of bed when Mumbo screamed. Gem shakes away any doubts about fighting someone who is clearly ill as she blocks a strike that would've taken her arm off. 

“Wow!” she exclaims, ducking and stepping to the side as Pearl's scythe sweeps over her, “you're really going all out, huh?” 

Pearl laughs in response to that, as if they were two friends sparring for fun. “You were attacking my Mumbo! ‘course I'm goin’ all out!”

Gem swings out with her sword again, catching Pearl's leg with her blade. “Your Mumbo is a wanted criminal!”

Pearl yelps and stumbles back. She holds out her scythe in a defensive position.

Gem takes a moment to catch her breath, staring at Pearl. “It'd be best if you just hand Mumbo over! I promise I won't hurt him!”

Pearl shakes her head. “Absolutely not, mate! Mumbo is family!” 

Gem shrugs. “Your grave, then!” 

She lunges. 

The fight has a sort of rhythm to it. Gem lunges, Pearl blocks. Pearl slices with her scythe, Gem dodges. The rhythm is only broken by Pearl occasionally stumbling– which Gem takes advantage of to strike out and nick Pearl. She's never able to make too deep a cut, and Pearl gets her back plenty of times, but she lands enough hits to start feeling much better about her chances of winning. 

...and then she's on the ground, dew soaking into her clothes as she lies there. Her sword is gone, fallen out of her hand in the struggle. 

She looks up at Pearl, who stands above her. Her cheeks are reddened by exertion and fever, her hair is cascading over her shoulders in messy waves, and most infuriatingly there is a smile on her lips even as she holds her scythe to Gem's throat. 

Gem doesn't move. She waits, with bated breath, for Pearl to kill her.

Instead, Pearl sheathes her scythe and bends down, holding out a hand. “There ya go, mate, let's get you back on your feet.”

Gem blinks. “What?”

Pearl tilts her head in confusion. “I'm helping you up. Did you hit your head?”

Gem frowns. “No, I just– why aren't you killing me?” She takes Pearl’s hand anyway.

Pearl raises an eyebrow, pulling Gem to her feet. “Would you have killed me if I lost?” She grins when Gem shakes her head. “Thought so.”

Mumbo peeks out from the tree he hid behind, giving Pearl a little wave. “You don't want to kidnap me anymore?”

Gem groans, grabbing her bloodied sword and wiping it on the grass before sheathing it. “I miscalculated. Thought you were alone and Pearl was the big dog I saw wandering around camp. Turns out, I was wrong.”

Pearl laughs. “Tilly! No, no, she's my lovely puppy.”

“Wolf,” Mumbo corrects quietly, “she's a wolf, Pearl.” 

Pearl shrugs, then looks over at Gem. “Well, if you’re gonna stick around, we have some soup I can heat up? You can tell us all about why you’re here, and maybe I’ll be able to give ya somethin’ for your time.”

Gem lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah. Sure. Sure, why not. This day couldn’t get any more crazy, I think.”

Mumbo, who had slowly been inching closer to the two while they were talking, is quick to grab Pearl when she tries to walk and stumbles. “Pearl! Wait, hold on, I’ll help you over, but you have got to sit down after that. I’ll heat up the soup and get you some bandages.” 

“Alright, alright…” Pearl slings an arm over Mumbo’s shoulders, and gestures for Gem to follow them. “Oof, that took a lot out of me, actually.” She glances back at Gem. “You’re good. Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Gem snorts, following them across the camp. “I could ask you the same question. You’re insane.” 

Mumbo helps Pearl sit down on the bench. Gem hesitates, then takes the seat across from Pearl, watching as Mumbo grabs a large covered container of soup. “Honestly,” he says, “Pearl’s one of the strongest people I know. Everyone here is, but Pearl and Impulse–” he laughs, putting the container on what looks to be a type of redstone warming gadget– “they’re incredible.” 

Pearl giggles. “Aww, Mumbo! You’re too kind, mate.” She closes her eyes and lets out a breath. “You mind gettin’ those bandages? I’m startin’ to feel a little hurt here.”

Gem grimaces. “My bad! You got me good in a few places too, though.”

Pearl nods, giving Gem a bright smile. “Dang right I did! Mumbo, can you get some extra bandages for our new friend here?”

Mumbo nods, bending down to open a different wooden container and pulling out some bandages and a dry towel. “Her name’s Gem, by the way. Introduced herself to me before chasing me down.” 

“That’s nice,” Pearl quips, “good to let your victims know who they have the pleasure of bein’ killed by, at the very least.”

Gem blushes. “I wasn’t going to kill him! Honestly! I was just going to bring him back to King Ren, and even then he was probably just gonna be put in jail or something!”

Mumbo sits next to Pearl and begins to dab at the cuts with the towel. “I don’t really want to go to jail?” He hands a roll of bandages and a towel to Gem, who begins to take care of her own wounds.

“We’d break you out,” Pearl assures him, then turns to look at Gem. “Right. This bounty, tell me about it? You said King Ren put it out?”

Gem glances at Mumbo. “Honestly, I think it’d be better hearing it from his side, first. I wasn’t there for the whole reason the bounty was placed.”

Mumbo looks up from where he was wrapping Pearl’s wounds. “Oh! Well, uh, you see. So, I guess, I accidentally blew up one of his labs? I was making something, can’t really remember what it was, and well. Kaboom! Blew it all to smithereens, unfortunately. And because I wasn’t really supposed to be there, they didn’t really have a lot of sympathy for me.” He grabs Pearl’s hand and pulls her other arm up so he can tend to the wounds on it. “So! I ran!”

“Are our things at risk of blowing up, then?” Pearl asks, looking pointedly at the redstone machine that was warming up the soup. Her wings flutter slightly. 

Mumbo shrugs. “Probably not. I mean, I’m much more careful now. I don’t use things until I’m like… 99% sure they won’t blow up.”

Gem raises an eyebrow. “That’s a whole 1% of uncertainty.”

Pearl laughs, pulling her arm back once Mumbo finishes bandaging up her cuts. “Better than 2%! I’ll take it.” 

Mumbo hands Pearl the roll of bandages and stands up to check on the soup. It must be done, because he carefully takes the container off the heating gadget and grabs some bowls and spoons from yet another wooden container. After rifling through the container for another minute, he pulls out a ladle with a triumphant sound and stands back up. “Soup’s ready!”

Once the soup is ladled into every bowl and placed on the table, Mumbo sits back down. “You alright, Pearl?” he murmurs, to which Pearl nods. 

“Just a lil dizzy,” she responds, “but that’s– probably fine. I should get back to bed soon, probably.”

“Eat your soup first, at least.” Mumbo looks up at Gem. “And, well, I guess we should hear your side of this whole thing, huh?”

Gem sighs, taking a sip of her soup before leaning back. “Well, I was looking for another job and yours came up. I figured it’d be pretty easy to grab you and bring you back to the King, and then I’d be set for the next couple months with the reward.” She laughs softly. “To be honest, I didn’t even think I was going to have to fight.”

Mumbo makes a sad noise. “I would’ve fought back!” he protests, “you just startled me!”

“Oh, I’m sure you would’ve!” Gem agrees. “You just would’ve lost.”

Pearl chuckles. “Be nice to Mumbo! He’s a very skilled tactician.” She has some more soup before leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table. “What are your plans now?”

Gem shrugs. “I wasn’t hired for this job, so it doesn’t really matter if I complete it or not. The money would’ve been nice, but my reputation won’t take a blow because of this.” She thinks for a moment, humming softly in contemplation. “Honestly, I might just spend a while up around here to see if any of the nearby villages have jobs for me, if anything. Or I might head to the city to look for more bounties.” She eats some more soup. It’s very good, made with potatoes and bacon and cheese, and it’s slightly spicy nature has her feeling warm despite the cold autumn weather.

 “Oh! Speaking of, you’re going to want to keep an eye on this guy–” She gestures at Mumbo– “for a bit, or speak to King Ren about his bounty. Otherwise, some other hunter who isn’t as nice as me might pick up his bounty.” 

Mumbo’s eyes widen. “Well. I don’t really want that to happen!”

Pearl nods. “Yeah, that makes sense… I’ll speak with the others when they get back and we’ll see about making a trip there. If that’s okay with you?” She directs the question to Mumbo, who holds up his hands and shakes his head.

“I dunno! Do whatever you think is best, mate. It would be nice to get the bounty off my head so we don’t have to worry about people coming to camp.” Mumbo looks a little downtrodden as he speaks, crossing his arms and looking away. “I mean, look at what happened. You’re hurt, and Grian’s probably going to rip my arm off for it!”

Gem inhales sharply. “I might want to head out then, if you have a friend who’s gonna react like that…”

Pearl laughs. “No, Mumbo’s joking– Grian can’t and won’t do that, not to Mumbo. And even if he wanted to do that to someone, I still don’t think he could.” She finishes her soup and leans against Mumbo. “It might be good for you to skedaddle before everyone gets back, though. We can introduce you at another time, when you haven’t just injured me while I’m ill and supposed to be resting.”

Mumbo chuckles nervously, letting Pearl lean against him. “Yeahhh… I can’t imagine that’ll go down too well with the others. Even if you are friendly now.”

Gem takes the last bite of her soup, and sets her spoon in the bowl. “I can’t imagine it would, I really can’t. Thank you for the soup and bandages, but–”

Before she’s able to finish speaking, Pearl jumps up from the table. “Wait! Hold on, I have something for you.” She takes a few steps away, then turns back and grabs Mumbo’s hand. “Sorry, taking this guy with me– still don’t really trust you. Stay right there!”

Gem waves her hand, slightly confused. “That’s fair! I’ll be here.” 

They return after a few minutes, with Pearl holding a few things in her arms. “Right! Here’s a pouch of some gold and iron coins, to cover at least a little of the bounty. And this–” She sets down a piece of parchment on the table– “this is moth mail. It’s a special thing I made a while back. Just write a letter, tap the little sigil drawn on the top corner, and it’ll get to me! You can use that to contact me if you need, or if you’re in the area.”

Gem blinks. “Wow! Oh, gosh, thank you? I gotta know, though, how come you’re being so nice to me? I was going to turn Mumbo over to the King.”

Pearl shrugs. “I mean, you’ve been chill after that, so why hold grudges? Gotta make friends where ya can.” She straightens back up. “Really! Feel free to come back any time, as long as you let me know first. If you don’t, I might assume you’ve come to collect some other bounty we don’t know about and fight you again.”

Gem laughs as she stands up, taking the pouch of coins and parchment paper. “Wouldn’t want that to happen, for sure!” She takes a step back. “Well, thank you both for the kindness… and entertainment, I suppose. This morning was certainly an interesting one.”

Mumbo smiles nervously. “Yeah, I agree. It was nice, uh, meeting you? And not getting kidnapped by you? And not being put in jail. Yeah.”

Gem only laughs louder at that. “Yeah, I’m glad I could contribute to things you’re grateful for.” She takes a breath, looking between Mumbo and Pearl. “Well. I’ll be heading out, then. Thanks for the coin and the paper.”

Pearl leans against Mumbo, who is doing his best to steady her. “No worries, mate! Have fun with… whatever you’re going to do!”

As Gem starts walking back toward the forest, she just barely hears Pearl mumble, “I need to pass out right now,” to Mumbo. 

Gem pays the stable manager for taking care of her horse with some of the money Pearl gave her. Honestly, she’s still a little shocked over how the whole ordeal went down, but hey; at least she still got paid. 

“And I got some new friends out of it, too,” she tells her horse as she rides off into the forest. “So that’s a plus!” 

She isn’t quite sure what she’s going to tell the bartender when she inevitably returns, but she’ll figure something out. For now, she’s good to look for her next bounty– wherever it might be.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Sparring Partners - Jongho

KINKTOBER DAY 25, REQ. BY anon

~"Jongho+ virginity+ he's experienced, but reader is a virgin"

pairing: jongho x fem!reader

genre: 18+, some soft moments

summary: you and jongho, sparring partners since forever. tho, something shifted in the air the night you decided to stay over schedule and workout..

wc: 6k

warnings: sparring partners, play fight/controlled fight mentioned, reader is a virgin, lots of teasing, making out, penetration, eating out, multiple orgasms, some fluff at the end, they cuddle, unprotected (boo use protection irl!), unedited, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: I had to okay... i had to add boxing in one of my fics 😞😞😞 fun fact I have a black belt in taekwondo but haven't practiced in years because of my knee 😩 fuck inexperienced fightersss. anywayss sorry for the delay ml i hope you like it !!!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The gym echoed with the sharp sounds of punches hitting the heavy bag and sneakers squeaking against the mat. It was late evening, and the training space was nearly empty, save for a few stragglers winding down their routines. You tightened the laces on your gloves, adjusting the wraps underneath, and rolled your shoulders to loosen up. This was your sanctuary—a place where you could lose yourself in the rhythm of training and momentarily forget the chaos of life outside.

And then there was Jongho.

“Ready to get knocked on your ass again?” his voice rang out from behind you.

You groaned inwardly but didn’t bother turning around. “You’ve got jokes today, huh?”

He walked past you, his presence annoyingly commanding. Dressed in his usual black tank top and joggers, he looked every bit the confident fighter you’d always known. Jongho had been your best friend since high school, but lately, your relationship had taken a turn. The constant teasing, the competitive jabs—it all felt heavier, charged with something neither of you dared to name.

“Come on,” he said, stretching his arms overhead, his muscles flexing in a way that shouldn’t have been distracting. “I’m just keeping you on your toes. If you want to get better, you’ve got to keep up with me.”

You rolled your eyes but followed him to the sparring ring. “You’re so full of yourself. Just because you’ve got a little more experience doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own.”

Jongho smirked, leaning casually against the ropes as you climbed in. “A little more experience? Sweetheart, I could train you in my sleep.”

The nickname stung, but you masked it with a glare. “If you’re so confident, maybe I’ll surprise you tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Alright. Show me what you’ve got.”

The banter was a familiar dance, but beneath the surface, it prickled at your pride. Jongho had always been ahead of you—in life, in love, in the ring. You couldn’t deny his skill or his charm, but his cockiness got under your skin. Tonight, though, you were determined to prove yourself.

The two of you squared up, circling each other in the ring. You kept your stance low, your fists raised, and your eyes locked on his. He moved with a relaxed confidence, his footwork fluid and precise.

“Don’t overthink it,” he said, his tone lighter now. “You always hesitate before throwing a punch.”

“I don’t hesitate,” you shot back, aiming a quick jab at his midsection.

He dodged effortlessly, his lips quirking into a grin. “Yes, you do.”

Your frustration grew as you continued sparring. No matter how hard you tried, Jongho always seemed to anticipate your moves, countering with ease. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat while you were already feeling the strain.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, blocking your punch and pushing you back with a light shove.

You stumbled but caught yourself, narrowing your eyes. “Shut up and fight me properly.”

His expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something serious passing through his eyes. “Alright, then.”

In a blur of movement, Jongho closed the distance between you, his punches coming faster and harder. You managed to block most of them, but his sheer power was overwhelming. Before you knew it, he had you pinned against the ropes, his hands gripping your wrists to immobilize you.

“Gotcha,” he said, his voice low and smug.

Your heart pounded—not just from the exertion, but from the closeness of him. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. You tried to ignore the way your body reacted, the way your stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

“Let go,” you said, your voice shakier than you’d intended.

“Not until you admit I’m better,” he teased, though his grip loosened slightly.

You glared at him, but the intensity of his gaze made it hard to hold. His dark eyes seemed to search yours, as if he was looking for something beyond your usual banter. For a moment, neither of you moved, the charged silence stretching between you.

And then he let go, stepping back with a smirk. “We’ll call it a draw.”

“Like hell we will,” you muttered, shaking off the strange tension as you moved to reset your stance.

But the truth was, you couldn’t shake it. Something had shifted in that moment, and it lingered in the air between you.

---

You stayed at the gym longer than usual, working the heavy bag long after Jongho had left. Or at least, you thought he’d left.

When you finally peeled off your gloves and headed to the locker room, you found him sitting on one of the benches, scrolling through his phone.

“Why are you still here?” you asked, startled.

He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Waiting for you.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why?”

He shrugged, standing and walking toward you. “Because you’ve been off all night, and I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on,” you said, brushing past him to grab your water bottle.

“Bullshit,” he said, his tone sharper now. “You’ve been pissed at me for weeks, and I don’t even know why. Did I do something, or are you just in a bad mood?”

His bluntness caught you off guard, and you turned to face him, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re just—ugh, you’re so infuriating sometimes! You act like you’re better than me at everything, like I’m some kind of joke to you.”

Jongho blinked, clearly taken aback. “Is that what you think?”

“Yeah, it is,” you said, your voice rising. “You’re always teasing me, always showing off. I get it—you’re more experienced, more skilled, whatever. You don’t have to rub it in my face all the time.”

He stared at you for a moment, his jaw tightening. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what are you doing?” you demanded, crossing your arms.

Jongho took a step closer, his voice softer now. “I’m trying to push you because I know how good you can be. I don’t want you to settle for anything less than your best. If I tease you, it’s because I care, not because I think you’re a joke.”

His words caught you off guard, and you felt your anger deflate slightly. “You… care?”

“Of course I care,” he said, his gaze steady. “You’re my best friend. And if I’ve been an ass about it, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was getting to you like this.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and you looked away, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “It’s not just that,” you admitted quietly. “It’s… everything. I feel like I’m always trying to catch up to you, like I’ll never be on your level. And it’s exhausting.”

Jongho’s expression softened, and he reached out to gently tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re already on my level, whether you see it or not. And for what it’s worth… I’ve always admired how hard you work. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

The warmth in his gaze made your breath hitch, and for a moment, you felt like the world had stopped. There was something different in the way he was looking at you now—something deeper, more intense.

“Jongho…” you started, but you didn’t know what to say.

He stepped even closer, his hand still resting lightly on your chin. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. You’re enough just as you are.”

The words were like a balm to your insecurities, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Before you could overthink it, you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his chest.

He hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. The steady beat of his heart against your ear was oddly soothing, and you let yourself relax into his embrace.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been too hard on you,” he murmured. “I just want you to see what I see.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “And what do you see?”

Jongho’s gaze flicked to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to your eyes. “Someone incredible,” he said simply.

The air between you was thick with unspoken tension, and for the first time, you didn’t shy away from it. You let yourself feel the weight of his words, the intensity of his gaze, and the steady warmth of his hands on your waist.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but before you knew it, your lips were brushing against his. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but the moment he responded, the kiss deepened, growing more urgent and passionate.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

“Jongho,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “Trust me.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could.

Jongho’s thumb lingered on your cheek, the touch searing into your skin, while his other hand slid with maddening ease to your waist, his fingers curling around you with a firm possessiveness that made your breath catch. The heat of his hands burned through the thin fabric separating you, and the way his eyes locked onto yours—dark, hungry, unrelenting—made the rest of the world fall away.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, the rough timbre of his voice sending a delicious shiver down your spine. His lips tilted into a slow, knowing smirk. “Don’t tell me I make you nervous.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words died on your lips when he leaned in, his lips brushing over yours with a teasing lightness. “Come here,” he growled, his voice thick with command, leaving no room for argument.

When his mouth claimed yours again, it wasn’t gentle. It was consuming—deep, insistent, as though he were tasting something he’d craved for far too long. His hands tightened on your waist, tugging you against him as a soft gasp escaped you, only for him to swallow it with another hungry kiss.

He broke away just enough to breathe, his forehead pressing against yours as his thumb traced over your lower lip, swollen from his kisses. “Look at you,” he teased, his tone playful but laced with a dangerous edge. “So quiet now. Where’s all that attitude from earlier? You had so much to say before.”

The heat rushing to your face made your cheeks burn, but you forced yourself to glare at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. “I—I hate you,” you muttered, the stammer in your voice betraying your conviction.

A low, rich laugh rumbled from his chest as his grip on your waist shifted, his fingers skimming the curve of your hip. “Hate me?” he repeated, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth in a featherlight tease. “Funny. Doesn’t feel like hate when you’re clinging to me like this.”

“I’m not—” you started, but his hands slid higher, his thumbs grazing the bare skin just beneath your ribs.

“Not what?” he cut in, his smirk widening. His voice dropped lower, the teasing note darkening into something more carnal. “Not shaking? Not holding onto me like I’m the only thing keeping you standing? Not pressing those pretty little legs together, trying to pretend I’m not getting to you?”

Your breath hitched sharply, and the way his gaze dipped to your thighs—still pressed tightly together—made your stomach twist in a way that was both mortifying and electrifying.

“Jongho,” you warned, though your voice came out more like a whimper than you’d have liked.

“Oh, don’t stop now,” he purred, leaning closer until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “You’re cute when you’re flustered. Almost makes me want to keep going. See how far I can push you before you beg me to stop—or beg me not to.”

“Y-You’re insufferable,” you bit out, your hands finding his chest as you tried to push him away.

But Jongho held his ground easily, his grip on your waist unrelenting. “And yet, you’re still here,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as his hands flexed against your sides.

His words left you scrambling for control, but the way his hands moved—his thumbs brushing slow, lazy circles over your hips—was unraveling you with every passing second.

“You’re too cocky,” you managed to snap, though it came out breathier than you’d hoped.

“Too cocky?” he echoed, his brow quirking as his smirk deepened. He tilted his head, his lips barely grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “No. Not cocky. Just confident. Because I know exactly what I’m doing.”

The heat of his breath against your skin made your knees buckle slightly, and your hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt to keep yourself steady. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you in a way that made your stomach flip.

“You don’t have to hide it,” he said, pulling back enough to meet your gaze, his eyes softer now but no less intense. “You’re not used to this, are you?”

Your silence was answer enough, and his smile softened, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained. “You’ve never let anyone get this close before, have you?”

You hesitated, your throat tight as you finally shook your head. “No,” you whispered. “I haven’t.”

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, grounding you. “Good,” he said, his voice dipping low as he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your temple in a surprisingly gentle kiss. “That means I get to be your first.”

The way he said it—possessive, certain—made your heart stutter. You looked up at him, a flush spreading across your face, and he grinned, his confidence as intoxicating as it was infuriating.

“You’ve got me,” he said, his gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “And I’ve got you. So let’s not pretend you don’t want me to solve that little problem of yours.”

Your breath caught as his gaze flicked pointedly to your legs before returning to your face, his smirk widening at the way you squirmed.

“Jongho,” you choked out, your face burning, but he only laughed again, his fingers curling into your waist as he pulled you closer.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. “I’ve got all the time in the world. And I’m not going anywhere.”

The promise in his tone made your chest tighten, your nerves and anticipation tangling together into something you couldn’t quite name. Whatever was happening between you, one thing was clear—Jongho wasn’t about to let you run away from it. From him.

The air around you felt impossibly thick, every fiber of your being hyperaware of Jongho’s piercing gaze and the tantalizing weight of his hands on your waist. His question lingered between you, heavy with intent, and when you finally found your voice, it came out softer than you expected, almost a whisper.

“Your place,” you said, your cheeks burning at your own boldness.

Jongho’s grin widened, a mix of excitement and triumph flashing across his face. Without warning, his arms shifted, and he scooped you up with startling ease, your legs dangling as his strong grip supported your weight effortlessly.

“Jongho!” you squeaked, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to my place,” he said, his voice brimming with confidence and amusement. “You didn’t expect me to let you walk after saying something like that, did you?”

You gave him a halfhearted glare, though your lips betrayed you with a small smile. “I have legs, you know. Perfectly good ones.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk playful as he carried you toward his car. “Oh, I’m aware. But this is faster. Plus, I kind of like holding you like this.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, secretly enjoying the way his strong arms felt around you. He set you down only when he reached his car, opening the door for you with an exaggerated flourish.

“Your chariot awaits,” he teased.

You climbed in, shaking your head at his antics. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he countered, flashing you a cheeky grin before closing the door and rounding the car to slide into the driver’s seat.

As he started the engine, the hum of the car barely masked the charged silence between you. Jongho’s right hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers splaying possessively over the fabric of your jeans. The touch was casual in a way that felt anything but casual, and the heat of his palm seared through the material, sending a shiver up your spine.

Your legs instinctively shifted, pressing together slightly, and Jongho let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and teasing.

“Something wrong?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

“No,” you said quickly, though the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, clearly unconvinced. His thumb stroked a slow, deliberate circle against your thigh, and you bit your lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his touch affected you.

Your resolve faltered, however, when your gaze darted to his lap. Your breath caught at the sight: the unmistakable outline of his arousal straining against his sweatpants, a bold and unapologetic testament to the effect you had on him.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly averted your gaze, your face burning as you looked out the window.

Jongho caught your reaction immediately and laughed, the sound rich and full of self-assurance. “See something you like?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, crossing your arms and pointedly refusing to look at him.

“You’re adorable,” he said, his tone warm and teasing as he pulled into his apartment building’s parking garage.

When he parked the car and stepped out, he walked around to your side, opening the door for you with a mischievous grin. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be shy now.”

You rolled your eyes but let him help you out of the car, his hand lingering on your lower back as he guided you toward the elevator. The ride up was quiet but thick with anticipation, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension.

When the elevator doors opened to reveal his apartment, your breath caught. The space was sleek and modern, a small penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The warm glow of the ambient lighting cast a soft, inviting hue over the stylish furniture and minimalist decor.

“Wow,” you said softly, stepping inside as Jongho closed the door behind you.

“Like it?” he asked, his voice low and smooth as he leaned against the door, his eyes never leaving you.

“It’s… beautiful,” you admitted, your gaze sweeping over the space before returning to him.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he said, his tone teasing but with a sincerity that made your cheeks heat.

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could speak, Jongho took a step closer, his gaze darkening as he reached for you. His hands found your waist again, pulling you flush against him, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch.

“Now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands began to wander, “let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?”

Jongho’s fingers curled gently around your waist as he gazed down at you, the flickering tension between you growing heavier by the second. His lips quirked into a teasing smile, but his eyes were dark, brimming with intensity. Slowly, deliberately, he reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head, discarding it on the nearby couch.

The sight made your breath hitch. You’d seen him shirtless before—during practices, workouts, even casual moments at the beach—but this was different. Under the warm lighting of his apartment, with the weight of his gaze on you and the air thick with unspoken promises, it felt different. It felt intimate. The sharp lines of his abs, the broad planes of his chest, the faint sheen of his skin—all of it made your pulse quicken and your stomach flip.

You gulped audibly, your throat dry as you struggled to find something—anything—to say.

Jongho noticed immediately, his smirk deepening. “Like what you see?” he teased, stepping closer, his confidence radiating off him in waves.

You rolled your eyes, trying to regain some composure. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“And yet, you can’t stop staring,” he countered, his voice low and warm as he reached for you again.

You huffed, but your resolve crumbled when he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment before they drifted down, grazing the collar of your blouse. He hesitated, his dark eyes locking onto yours, silently asking for permission.

You nodded, barely able to muster the courage to meet his gaze.

Jongho’s hands moved with deliberate care, unbuttoning your blouse one piece at a time. The cool air brushed against your skin as the fabric fell away, leaving you standing there in nothing but your bra and jeans. His eyes traced every inch of you, his gaze appreciative but never lewd, and the weight of his attention made your skin burn.

“You’re stunning,” he said softly, his voice carrying none of the teasing from before.

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, mumbling, “Stop saying things like that.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” he replied, his hands moving to your waistband now. He paused again, waiting for your nod before he gently worked the denim down your legs, leaving you standing there in your underwear.

You felt vulnerable, exposed, but the way Jongho looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—chased away any lingering insecurities.

“Your turn,” you said, your voice shaking slightly as you gestured to his sweatpants.

He chuckled but obliged, hooking his thumbs into the waistband and sliding them down in one smooth motion. Your eyes darted down briefly, catching a glimpse of the tight fabric of his boxers and the unmistakable evidence of his arousal straining against them.

You quickly looked away, your face burning as you muttered, “Jongho!”

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence as he stepped closer, his smirk returning. “You told me to take them off.”

“You’re impossible,” you groaned, trying to cover your face, but Jongho caught your wrists gently, pulling your hands away.

“Don’t hide from me,” he said softly, his tone shifting again to something more tender. “Not now.”

Before you could respond, he bent slightly, hooking one arm under your legs and the other around your back.

“Jongho, no!” you protested, squirming as he lifted you effortlessly into his arms.

“Yes,” he said with a grin, holding you securely against his chest. “I like carrying you. You should just get used to it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as he carried you toward his bedroom, though you couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

The bedroom was just as sleek and modern as the rest of his apartment, the neutral tones and soft lighting creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere. Jongho set you down gently on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering on your waist as he knelt slightly to meet your gaze.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and full of warmth.

You nodded, your heart racing as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that promised so much more. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and for the first time, you felt ready to let go of your hesitation and trust him completely.

As he softly pushed you on your back and made you lay comfortably on the crisp, black linen, he leaned back and took in the sight.

Jongho's gaze lingered, a mix of admiration and unguarded desire as he took you in. His voice broke the charged silence, low and steady. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, the sincerity in his tone sending a warm flush across your skin.

Before you could find the words to respond, he moved, placing one knee on the bed beside you. His eyes flickered downward, catching the faint evidence of your arousal through the delicate fabric of your panties. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips, a combination of satisfaction and mischief playing on his face.

The boldness of his gaze sent a jolt of self-consciousness through you, and you instinctively brought your hands to cover yourself. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm as he gently pushed your hands aside.

Your breath hitched as his hands found your thighs, the warmth of his palms igniting your nerves. His touch was confident but patient, his fingers brushing over your skin in a way that left your mind spinning. When he tugged at your panties, you froze for a moment, caught between flustered shyness and the undeniable pull of trust and longing.

With one smooth motion, he slipped the fabric down, the cool air grazing your now bare skin. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, his expression a mixture of awe and restraint. “Perfect,” he whispered, more to himself than to you, and you felt your cheeks burn under the weight of his attention.

Your heart pounded as his gaze returned to yours, the intensity making you feel as though he could see every vulnerable thought running through your mind. “I’ve got you,” he reassured, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against your knee as his hands caressed the sensitive skin of your thighs.

Jongho’s lips were soft against your skin, each kiss deliberate and slow, as though he were savoring every moment. When his lips reached your inner thighs, he paused, lifting his gaze to meet yours, seeking your reassurance. There was a quiet confidence in his eyes, but also a deep tenderness, as if he were attuned to every subtle shift in your body.

"Everything okay? Want me to.. go on?" he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, the question hanging between you two.

You nodded, your heart racing, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. Without waiting for another word, his kisses deepened, trailing slowly toward your cunt. His lips moved with purpose, but not hurriedly—each press against your skin made your breath catch, your body shuddering in response. His hands glided up your thighs, fingers brushing with a tenderness that was almost too much to bear, yet every touch sent sparks through your entire being.

As his lips reached as close as possible to your folds, you couldn’t stop the way your body arched toward him, the quiet gasp escaping your lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, pulling him closer as though you couldn’t get enough of him, yet at the same time, you didn’t want him to rush.

Jongho didn’t hurry, though. His movements were measured, gentle but deliberate, as he worked his way deeper, tongue feeling and tasting every sweet spot of yours It made your pulse race. The weight of his attention—every brush of his tongue—was intoxicating, and the way his hands caressed your skin made you feel utterly consumed by the moment, the intensity building with every second.

Jongho’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly, pulling you closer to him as his

lips and tongue deepened.

A soft moan escaped your lips, the heat building in your body as his motion of eating you out became more precise, more intentional. Every time he sucked on your clit, the pressure seemed to intensify, and your breath quickened, your body arching slightly, reacting to his touch in ways you hadn’t expected.

"Jongho..." you whispered, your voice a mixture of breathlessness and need, the feeling of his lips trailing against your skin making your belly tighten, your heart racing. "I-I’m close..."

His eyes flickered up at you, a silent reassurance in his gaze as he adjusted his position, his hands holding you closer still. He seemed to read the tension in your body, knowing exactly how to eat you out to push you further into the edge of your orgasm. You couldn’t contain the quiet gasps that escaped with every press of his lips against you.

The room felt charged, your body humming in tune with his, each movement from him sending you deeper into a state of blissful surrender. Your hands tightened against his shoulders, holding him close, as your body responded—heat pooling in your chest, your belly tightening, the anticipation growing within you.

Finally, your high washed over you, hard and overwhelming, a shudder running through you as you let go completely, a quiet whimper of satisfaction slipping past your lips. Jongho, his face still soft with the same tenderness, held you closely, as if to cradle you in that moment, his presence grounding you completely. His smile, slow and satisfied, told you that he, too, was content, savoring every second of the connection you shared.

Jongho’s fingers gently cupped your face, his gaze tender yet filled with a quiet intensity. He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, his touch lingering on your skin, his eyes following the movement as if memorizing every detail of you.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and desire. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so perfect.”

He leaned in just enough to press a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as he breathed you in, savoring the feeling of being so close to you. His thumb traced along your jawline, the movement slow and deliberate, each touch sending a shiver of warmth through your body.

When he shifted slightly, his body hovering just above you, his hand went for his briefs, a small stain of precum visible on them. He took them off and then leaned against you. His chest brushed against yours, the contact enough to make your breath catch, a deep sense of longing and anticipation filling the space between you two.

Jongho looked down at you for a moment, his expression a mix of intensity and restraint. His hand gently cupped the back of your neck, and he whispered, his voice hushed but filled with raw emotion, “Are you sure you’re ready for this? We can take it slow if you need to.”

His gaze never left yours, his eyes soft with concern yet burning with a quiet intensity, as if seeking your reassurance before moving forward. You could feel the weight of his question hanging in the air, the tension between you thick and undeniable.

With a slight shift, he pulled back just enough to allow you a moment to decide. The room was thick with unspoken words, with trust and desire intertwining in a dance as old as time. Jongho’s hand rested gently on your hip, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your waist, as though waiting for your answer—waiting for you to lead him, or guide him, in this shared moment of intimacy.

You didn't have enough confidence to answer to him verbally, but as you lowered yourself on the bed under him, squirming impatiently, he took the hint. But still, he didn't to nothing yet.

“Say it. Use your words, sweetie” he tapped you on your knee.

“Y-yes.. p-please, Jongho..” you said, voice barely above a whisper and breathy. He took that as a yes and leaned in, right hand resting on your hips and left hand lazily stroking his own cock before guiding it to your hole. He looked up at you again then inserted the tip in, your back arching softly.

He started to softly thrust at first, testing the waters. When he felt and also saw you get accustomed to his size, he became a little bit faster and more focused, hands holding yours above your head. He leaned in and as he thrusted into you, he let his forehead rest against yours.

The tension in the air was electric, each of Jongho's movements sending ripples through you, pushing you closer to the edge. Your breaths came in quick, uneven gasps, each one punctuated by a soft whimper or moan that seemed to fuel him further. His hands stayed steady on yours, grounding you even as your body arched beneath him, seeking release.

“That's it,” Jongho murmured, his voice rich with approval, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile as he watched you. “Let me hear you. Don’t hold back.”

The heat inside you reached its peak, and with one more motion, the second orgasm, more powerful, more intense, crashed over you. Your body trembled as you caught your high, a cry spilling from your lips, louder than you expected, raw and unrestrained. Jongho didn’t falter, his steady hold on you keeping you tethered to the moment as your breaths turned into soft, trembling gasps.

“There you go,” he whispered, his tone low and soothing as he guided you through it, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist to ground you. “So beautiful like this, letting yourself feel everything. I’m so proud of you.”

Your body shivered as the aftershocks rippled through you, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support. But just as you began to relax into the warmth of the moment, Jongho leaned closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. His voice was soft but tinged with a teasing edge.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear, “I haven’t caught mine yet.” His words were both playful and filled with a quiet intensity that sent another shiver down your spine.

“Can you handle a little more for me?” he asked, his voice low and coaxing as his hands shifted to hold you firmly in place.

Your eyes widened slightly, your body still sensitive, but you nodded, unable to form the words. A soft, breathy sound escaped you as he began to move again, his pace slow but deliberate, the overstimulation making you whimper softly with each motion.

“You’re so good for me,” Jongho murmured, his voice full of quiet praise as he kept his steady rhythm, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Just a little more, okay? You’re doing so well.”

The overstimulation had you trembling beneath him, your hands clutching at his arms as you whimpered, the sound half protest and half surrender. Jongho’s gaze never left you, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration as his pace quickened just enough to push himself closer to his high.

When he finally reached his orgasm, a low, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest, his grip on you tightening briefly before he stilled, his breaths coming in deep, steadying exhales. His hands loosened their hold, smoothing over your hips and waist in soothing strokes as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You were perfect,” he murmured, his voice warm and full of praise as he shifted slightly to let you rest more comfortably beneath him. “Thank you for trusting me. Are you okay?”

His hands cradled your face as he looked down at you, his expression soft and full of care, waiting for your response. Even in the aftermath, his priority was you—ensuring you felt safe, cherished, and wholly understood.

“Yes..” you answered his question, head dizzy and body tired from all the motion.

“Was I good enough to you?” he continued, lying besides you and holding you close.

“Oh Jongho.. of course” you smiled at him, your answer bringing a smirk of satisfaction on his face.

His smirk softened into something tender as he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek with a touch so light it felt like a whisper. The room was quiet now, the air warm and heavy with the comfort of shared intimacy. He drew you closer, tucking your head beneath his chin as his arms enveloped you, strong and steady.

“Rest now,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby as he traced lazy circles along your back. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, its steady rhythm grounding you, anchoring you to the present moment.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

[damiansgoodgirll]

WOOOOO THE REQUESTS ARE BACK!!!! I’ve been looking forward to this day.

SO

Would it be entirely insane of me to ask for a Damian x Fem! Reader comfort fic.

Basically

Damian gets home and finds reader has had a horrible week while he was gone and he just comes home, gives her all the love.

Kisses, cuddles, hugs…comfort food.

JUST LOADED WITH ALL THE FLUFF

What ever you want, just fluff and tlc. Maybe even comfort sex if you wanna throw smut in there cause comfort.

What ever you want. I enjoy anything you write tbh.

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ a lot of comfort and love

walking zombie

you were tired.

no, not tired - exhausted. and not only physically but mentally too.

as christmas approached, work suddenly multiplied and you found yourself from working almost 12 hours a day.

barely getting any sleep or eating unhealthy food, you got to the point where you were almost ready to explode.

you and damian barely saw each other. if you were at home, he was travelling for work and if he was at home, you were either at work or passed out in bed.

you missed him. you missed his comfort, his hugs, his sweet kisses, his smile, his hands over your body. you missed him and you felt like you’ve been neglecting him, hating yourself even more.

damian understood.

he knew how much you loved your job even if he didn’t agree on the overworking part, he still supported you and tried to help you as much as he could around the house.

you didn’t know how it happened but on friday afternoon you got to leave work earlier. a smile spreading over your face as you ran into your car and drove back home.

there was peace as damian wasn’t home yet - he’s been working almost all week and you couldn’t wait to see him. he was supposed to come back around dinner time and a sweet idea of cooking him a welcome home dinner crossed your mind but the moment you stood up and reached for the kitchen, all of your energies left your body.

you loved damian so much but you weren’t in the mood for cooking. you weren’t in the mood for making a mess in the kitchen knowing that you would have to clean up everything. you just weren’t in the mood.

instead, you opted for taking a warm shower. you needed to release some stress and a shower was all that you needed. looking for something to wear, you found a damian’s hoodie and a pair of his boxers - you loved the way his clothes smelled of him - so you opted for those.

once in the shower you felt all your muscles relax and thinking that the weekend was approaching put you in a good mood. you already imagined yourself spending all weekend in bed with damian, eating chocolate and watching romantic christmas movies - that was your meaning of paradise.

feeling a little relaxed, you stepped out of the shower and did your short skin care routine before wearing your boyfriend’s clothes and heading back to the living room.

you were so eager to see him after a week that you tried your best to stay awake and wait for him but the moment your head touched the comfort of your couch, you were far gone.

a creaky noise woke you up. coming from the front door, your eyes opened a little and saw damian’s figure standing in front of you as he was putting his suitcase on the floor.

“damian…” your tired voice made him turn to look at you.

“hey mi amor, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up” he immediately apologised when he saw your sleepy face.

you fell asleep? “what - what you mean? what time is it?”

“it’s already nine o’clock” he smiled.

“what? i’ve slept for three hours? i wanted to make dinner for you and me…i can’t believe i slept all this time” you were slightly disappointed in yourself. you wanted to wait for him. you wanted to welcome him home and yet you managed to fall asleep.

“woah, mi amor, take it easy, it’s okay, you were tired and you rested a little bit, nothing’s wrong with that…” damian slowly approached you and sat down on the couch next to you.

“i wanted to make something nice for your welcome home” you confessed making him smile even more “but i fell asleep, i’m sorry…”

“why are you apologising hermosa?” his soft voice asked.

“because i really wanted to do something for you…but i just had the worst week of my life, i really missed having you here, i even took a shower to relax myself and i still managed to mess it up…” you didn’t mean to sound so vulnerable but the week that just passed took a big toll on you and you were feeling all of the stress and anxiety left behind.

“you don’t have to do anything for me hermosa” his hand gently took your chin and made you look into his eyes “you had a rough week and you have all the right to take time for yourself…in fact, why don’t you stay here, you can rest a little more if you want, i’ll take a quick shower and then i’ll order take out for the both of us? i missed you so much this week and i wanna take care of you…”

how could you say no when he asked so politely?

“okay…” you gave up knowing that he wouldn’t take a no for an answer.

“perfect” he smiled before leaving a gentle peck on your lips “rest a little mi amor, i’ll wake you up when food comes, you look like a zombie”

you laughed a little “i feel like a zombie…”

“that’s why you gotta rest” he reminded you.

softly closing your eyes, it took you less than a minute to fall back asleep. damian was cautious and trying to make less noises possible as he moved around the house.

quickly washing himself, he changed into more comfortable clothes and ordered some food. he unpacked his suitcase and once everything was done, he sat on the couch next to you. turning the tv on, he put on something fun to watch as his mind wasn’t in the mood for some kind of weird plots.

feeling a shiver down his spine, he looked at you and saw how curled up on yourself you were. he took a fluffy blanket and gently covered your body.

hearing a knock on the door, he stood up and got the food.

“amor…” he whispered in your ear, trying to wake you up gently. leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, you felt something tickling you “wake up princesa, food is ready…”

yawning, you opened your eyes and the first thing you noticed was the blanked upon your body. before you could ask damian about it, he answered for you “you seemed cold, i wanted you to be comfortable” he said.

your heart melted. damian was so thoughtful and you knew you couldn’t live without him “thank you” you genuinely smiled.

“shall we eat? cause i’m starving” he joked making you smile.

“oh absolutely…”

“here, come here baby, i wanna feel you close” damian patted next to him as you sat back on the couch “no, not there, here” he pointed to his lap.

“how are we going to eat in that position?” you asked.

“trust me, i’ll find a way, i just wanna have you close” and so you sat on his lap.

it was a little uncomfortable for him to eat but he wouldn’t tell you. he missed you and he knew that you missed him too. from the way you were laid on his chest, your head between his shoulder and neck as you ate the hamburger he got for you, watching whatever the tv was playing.

you missed soft moments like those.

once finished damian insisted that you stayed there on the couch as he cleaned the coffee table from all those food papers.

“how are you feeling hermosa?” he asked once he sat on the couch with you in his lap again.

“better…”

“yes?” he softly asked.

“yeah, i feel like it’s you…you got me in a good mood” you snuggled your head between his shoulder and face again as you inhaled his scent.

“well, i’m glad to hear that” he smiled “you tired?”

“no, not physically at least, even if my body it’s a wreck” you joked but before you could speak, damian’s hand slipped under your shirt and began to massage and softly stroke your back.

“relax your body baby, and relax your mind…i’m here now” he whispered before his lips touched the skin of your face “relax against me” and you did as he told you.

while his hand was working magic on your back, his lips kept leaving soft kisses over your face, making you completely relaxed into your lover’s arms.

“we’re gonna stay in bed all weekend baby” he whispered making you nod your head “and i’m gonna properly take care of you, you need to relax and rest” and you honestly loved that idea.

“dam…” you whispered.

“mh?” he softly looked down at you.

“thank you, for everything…”

“don’t thank me, i love you, i love taking care of you” he smiled before gently kissing you. you missed having his lips on yours “close your eyes baby, let me take control…you’re safe”

and in fact, you knew that you were in good hands.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Ateez when they're clingy

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘ateez members when they’re feeling clingy and in need of extra attention/affection’

Hongjoong I think this will manifest in subtle ways. Like, he might not be super affectionate around the members, but he might have a hand on your waist or thigh instead of just holding your hand in front of them. It’s not possessive in nature though it might look like it to some, but it’s a comfort to have you close. In those moments, I think he’d actually really enjoy if you were a little clingy too.

Seonghwa I think he’ll just ask and it would be pretty cute actually. You guys might have a routine to pile up on opposite ends of the couch to watch TV so both of you can stretch out and relax, but one night he might pout at you and you’ll give him a curious look. ‘Are you okay?’ Hesitantly, he’ll ask, ‘Could we cuddle tonight instead?’ He’s crawling into your arms as soon as you open them. I hope you didn’t have any plans the rest of the night because he doesn’t plan to move.

Yunho Already clingy and touchy. But where as a lot of these touches are usually done in passing - a kiss every time he passes by you, a hug every single time one of you comes and goes from the apartment, a little squeeze on the hip as he comes up behind you to get something - you’ll know something is up when these touches linger. A kiss turns into a few or the squeeze on the hip stays for a few extra beats even if food could be burning on the other side of the kitchen. And the hugs will make you both late for whatever you were supposed to be going to.

Yeosang I feel like this type of moment would be done in privacy, such as lying together in bed at night. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not against a little bit of cuddling, particularly if you enjoy it, but he’s not usually the one to ask for it. Still, some nights he might scoot over into your space and insert himself into your arms, even if you were half asleep and not ready for it. Will insist he’s okay, and really does feel better after falling asleep like that.

San I’m so sorry, but you’ll never know he needed any extra affection, because he’s already so affectionate. It’s nothing new for him to come up behind you and wrap his entire body around you like a koala, or lie on top of you on the couch because he wants to be held. He will have to verbally tell you that he needs a little extra attention because his behavior is already consistent here. He lowkey expects to be babied when he feels like this, so get ready.

Mingi I think he’d be similar to Yunho, but the big difference here is that he’ll admit that he’s clingy. When there are a few too many lingering touches, you might ask if he’s okay, and he’ll start to whine a bit. “What? Are you denying me?!?” A little bit dramatic, so just let it be. He’s really so sweet, just give him the affection he wants.

Wooyoung Do you know what it’s like to be smothered? You will when he feels clingy, which is often. Some days, he’ll let you go about your business as usual, but often times, he attaches himself to your back and waddles behind you throughout the apartment. Does not care how hard it makes things because he actually wants it to take longer so he can keep clinging. And cuddling will consist of simply lying on top of you, demanding head pats or back rubs. I’m so sorry, I don’t make the rules here.

Jongho Might be afraid to ask for it! He has to break the whole ‘I hate physical affection’ thing he has going on. But there might be spontaneous moments, like when you are ready to get out of bed for the day and he doesn’t have anywhere to go. He’ll feel you throw the covers off and start to get up, and he’ll yank you back down sleepily. It might shock you a bit at first, but he’ll stubbornly insist for five more minutes. It will not just be five minutes, prepare to be late.

[splishfish]

Love Sick (NSFW)

Keigo Takami x AFAB Reader

Tags: PiV, a lot of emotions, Unprotected Sex, Reader and Keigo had 2 cups of wine, Intoxicated Confessions, Friends to Lovers, A lot of Fluff, Doggy Style, Missionary

WC: 4.6k

It’s love.

You weren’t sure when you started developing feelings for your best friend. All you knew is that one day, they were just there. 

Maybe it was the time he had bought you your favorite food because you were sick and at home. Maybe it was when he had memorized your order at your favorite restaurant. Or…maybe it was when he told you he felt more like himself around you than he’s ever felt in his life.

Yeah. Maybe it was then.

Or not. You really don’t know.

All you know is that you love him. Badly. It’s embarrassing, really. When he’s with you, you forget about the world around you two. You want to know more about him, even if there’s nothing left to share. Everything seems so much more simple when he’s with you, like the world suddenly seems right. It’s freeing. It’s liberating.

It’s love.

So when he calls you right after his patrol ended, you could feel your heart leap out of your chest, hands beginning to tingle as sweat formed on your palms. You picked up with an excited smile, your legs bouncing as you spoke.

“Hey! Finally off work, Kei?”

“Yeah. Hey, I’m gonna drop by that takeout place near the agency, do you want anything?”

Through the phone, you could hear the faint noises of the city. Cars and trains passing through, no doubt filled with civilians who just got off work or school. Horns and advertisements occasionally squeaking through the speaker, only barely muffled by the sound of his voice.

He really did just get off his patrol. Maybe he was leaning against the cold wall of an alleyway, head tilted up to stare at the sky. Or maybe he was sitting on a rooftop, wings stretched behind him as he relaxed from his tiring job.

“You know I don’t turn down an offer for food, Kei. Especially from you~”

Your voice was teasing, a cheeky smile on your face you hoped he could picture in his mind. You wondered if he could see you in his mind just as vividly as you could see him in yours. Just the thought alone made your heart stutter.

“Ha! You’re greedy, y’know that?”

There was a exaggeration of annoyance in his voice, which was quickly broken with a soft chuckle.

“You want the usual right? And do you want water or should I get you that tea you like?”

His question really shouldn’t affect you as much as it does. Had it been any other person who asked, you were sure you’d just nod and continue with your order, not even spare the time to realize what they asked.

But it’s not someone else. It’s Keigo. Your best friend. Your crush. And for some reason, that alone makes your heart flutter with joy. Because it’s Keigo who remembered your favorite order. It was him, the man who made your hands sweat and your leg bounce every time he spoke to you. Not your family, not your other friends or coworkers. 

But him.

“I’ll get the tea this time, Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem Princess. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

Princess. When did he start calling you that, you wonder. Maybe it was during that halloween party a few years back, where you dressed as the queen of hearts. Or was it that time when you admitted your parents spoiled you throughout your childhood?

Maybe it was then. 

But you can’t remember.

“Yeah yeah, See ya later.”

When you heard the chime of your call disconnect, you could feel your body slump over. You brought a hand up to your heart, pressing down on the surface of your chest to feel its rapid beating slowly calm down. 

It was funny. Your heart just felt like it ran a mile, but your body felt like it just got up from a deep sleep. Was this what love is supposed to feel like?

You shook those thoughts out of your head, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. Maybe a cold shower would calm your nerves.

-

By the time you got out of the shower, hair damp and baggy clothes thrown on lazily, Keigo had already made his way into your house and plated your food.

He turned his head when he heard your footsteps, a small smile on his face as he closed his eyes and spoke.

“Hey princess! You didn’t answer the door so I just came in through the balcony. Hope you don’t mind.”

You thought back to when you two weren’t as close as you were now. Years ago, when you had only just met him. He had done the same thing, entering through the balcony when you were out of the house, and scaring the living shit out of you when you came home and found him scouring your fridge.

It pissed you off back then. You remembered scolding him while he had that shit eating smirk on his face, walking towards you during your lecture and wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he told you to ‘loosen up’. 

Now it was…endearing. No. That wasn’t the right word. It felt…right…knowing that he was there waiting for you. 

You chuckled, thanking him while pulling out your chair and seating yourself. The smell of the food was as delicious as always, fresh and hot, surely due to the fact that he flew over here. How lucky, not having to deal with traffic.

You both ate at a comfortable pace, chatting away as you spoke about your days. He told you about his patrol, how he had stopped a few petty villains, and how he was swarmed by fans and reporters by the end of his shift. It was a normal occurrence, but it never failed to tire him out regardless.

And then it was your turn. You told him about your day at work, how your shifts had been uneventful as always, except for the few stories you had accumulated from your coworkers. It was funny how different both of your lives were.

It all felt so domestic. Like a couple who had just sat down for dinner, talking about everything and nothing as they ate.

A couple. You liked that idea.

Before you could continue to get lost in your thoughts, you heard him clear his throat before speaking.

”Hey, so I was thinking…”

“Well. That’s never a good sign”

“Rude! At least let me finish!”

A snort escaped your lips, waving him off as you took another bite of your food. A small huff escaped his pouty lips, before he mumbled.

“Well now I don’t wanna…”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled in response, a smile tugging on your lips as you spoke.

“Oh don’t be like that. Cmon, what were you gonna say?”

“No! I’m not telling you now!”

It was cute, the way he turned his head and crossed his arms. His lips curling into a small, teasing pout as his wings fluffed up behind him. He looked away from you, attempting to hide his face, but you could see the corner of his lips slowly twitching into an amused smile.

Your thoughts from earlier began to resurface, and you could feel your heart twist in your chest. When and why did you start to fall for him? Was it because you two shared so many interests and opinions? Was it because no matter how you were feeling, he could always make you laugh and forget all your issues?

Maybe it was because he listened to you when you spoke to him, or maybe it was because he showered you with gifts and affection. Or maybe it was because he called you beautiful, and stared at you like you were the only person that mattered in his world.

Yeah…maybe it was that.

You stared at the wine glass in your hand, the deep red liquid rippling with every minute movement of your body. Your body felt warm, the effects of the wine slowly making its way through your system. There was a movie playing in the background, some random film you had chosen for today's movie night.

Keigo’s arm was slung lazily on your shoulders, pulling you close to him with one arm, while the other was holding his wine glass. It was peaceful. It was quiet. 

You wondered if he could hear the way your heart hammered in your chest.

The flashing colors of the movie felt slow and dull in comparison to your wandering mind. His arm felt warm and heavy on your shoulder, and you could feel the way his fingers traced absentminded shapes on your skin. You wondered what was going on through his mind right now. Was he just as distracted as you were? Did he also feel the way your bodies were pressed together, almost as if wishing to meld together?

You almost didn’t feel the way his hand squeezed your shoulder, gently rousing you from your thoughts.

You turned your head to stare up at him, only to see that his golden eyes were already staring down at you. Your heart fluttered softly. How long had he been staring at you?

“Are you okay Princess?”

His voice was so soft, and he stared at you with such adoring eyes it made you wonder if he was really talking to you. His hand gave your shoulder another squeeze, once again drawing you out of your thoughts. You cleared your throat, voice mellow from the wine.

“Ah…yeah, i’m good. What's up?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, his eyes simply raking down your face, as if searching for something. It took him a few seconds to finally speak again, his expression softening to one of affection.

“Nothin’...you just looked a little…lost.”

Lost.

The word made you chuckle, a familiar sense of comfort filling your body. Maybe had he said this a few months ago, when you were first coming to terms with your feelings, you would have agreed. Back then, everything seemed so confusing, so much more difficult to navigate. It felt like you were swimming in a sea of conflicting emotions, with none of them many form of sense.

But now things were different. You weren't lost in that deep array of wild emotions, you weren’t scared to confront your feelings. No. You understood them now. To a small extent at least. You understood enough to know that these feelings weren’t here to hurt you, that they were just here to be known. To be felt.

Lost was the furthest thing you felt.

“Ah, sorry…I was just lost in thought.”

He hummed in response, shifting slightly so he could pull you closer to his chest. He put his wine down on the coffee table, bringing his arm around to embrace you in a comforting hug. You melted under his touch, sighing softly as he took the glass from your hand and placed it down as well.

You laid your head on his chest, the faint beating of his heart echoed in your ear like a soothing lullaby. This wasn’t the first time you two had embraced, no, it was far from it. But something was different. 

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system. Or maybe it was the way his hand slowly began to thread through your hair, massaging your scalp in such a tender way you could have sworn only lovers did.

“...You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His voice broke through the silence that enveloped you two once again, his voice carrying through the air. You shifted slightly, lifting your head to rest your chin on his pectorals, raising a brow at his words.

“Where’s this coming from?”

You mumbled softly, your eyes searching his golden ones. He smiled down at you, ruffling your hair as he chuckled.

“What, I can’t call my best friend beautiful?”

“No. I might get the wrong idea y’know.”

He chuckled again, his hand tightening slightly against your hair. He didn’t respond for a moment, but you could feel the way he hesitated to speak, his voice laced with mock confidence as he sent you a teasing smirk.

“What if I want you to get the wrong idea?”

It wasn’t rare for him to flirt with you. No, he was always like this, even before you two became good friends. Whenever he did, he would always give you that stupid smirk of his, his voice laced with a deriding tone. Back then, you were sure he did it just to piss you off, always making a flirtatious comment he knew would make you uncomfortable.

At some point, you learned to ignore it, passing off his remarks with a roll of your eyes and a knowing smile. You don’t know when you got so used to his advancements, but eventually they became a habit. A normal occurrence in your friendship with each other, comments the both of you took as nothing more than a jest.

So why did this feel genuine?

You shook off the feeling, praying he didn’t notice the way your heart rate increased at his words. You scoffed at his words with a small smile, pinching his side playfully..

“Ha ha. Very funny Keigo.”

A sarcastic laugh left your lips, but before you could come up with a snarky comment, he interrupted you.

“I mean it.”

What?

You felt your blood turn cold, your hands prickling with sweat as you shuffled up to stare at him. His expression was something akin to fear, the usual cocky smile that graced his face seemed weak and hesitant.

You swallowed a thick glob of saliva that coated your tongue, attempting to stop your mouth from drying at his words. A strained chuckle escaped your lips, your brows furrowing as you tried to reel in your nerves.

“Oh c’mon…don’t tell me two glasses of wine already have you-”

“It’s not the wine.”

His grasp on you tightened, holding you closer to his body. The weak smile on his face shifted into a small frown, his face morphing into something earnest and soft. He opened his mouth before closing it, squeezing you slightly before he sighed.

“I…You can’t tell me there isn’t…something happening between us…right?”

Before you could even open your mouth, he began to rant.

“I mean- this, this isn’t normal. Do normal friends do…this? Hold each other in their arms late at night, drinking wine while they pretend to watch a movie? Do friends look at each other the way we look at each other?”

His eyes closed, holding you close as desperation seeped into his voice.

“Maybe…Maybe it is the wine that's making me say this…but so what? Maybe I wouldn't say these things if I wasn't intoxicated…maybe I would just let us pine over each other like stupid lovesick teenagers any other day, but I don’t want that…I don’t want that anymore…”

He buried his face into your neck, his wings slowly coming to wrap around your frame. His grasp on you tightened, afraid that you might slip away from him. 

“Please…tell me I'm not crazy. Tell me you also can’t stand…whatever this shit is…”

He finally loosened his grip on you, his hands coming up to cup your face, pulling you back enough to stare desperately into your eyes.

For a moment, you wondered if this was a dream. Were his hands really holding you? Was he really acknowledging the painful tension you two had been enduring? You had never seen him with such a desperate look in his eyes, his voice wavering and hoarse with emotion. You had never seen…this.

It took you a moment to respond, an embarrassing croak of your throat escaping you before your words did.

“I…Keigo…” “Please…” He was begging. Keigo Takami, your best friend, was begging.

“I…I can’t stand it either…Keigo, I-” You were quickly silenced, warm lips connecting with yours in a desperate kiss. Your body reacted instinctively, kissing him back as your eyes fluttered closed, hands coming up to cup his cheeks and bring him closer.

You wondered if it was the wine that made your body feel so warm.

The kiss was full of emotion, feelings from the last few months, maybe even the past year or two suddenly becoming a reality. The longing and desire from both ends quickly caused the kiss to heat up, hands wandering without any direction, body’s slowly shifting to accommodate each other.

You both break away from the kiss, breaths mixing together as you attempt to refill your lungs with much needed air. His forehead pressed against your own, noses bumping against each other in a display of affection. He smiled finally, his eyes fluttering open as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, and then your lips again.

“Thank you…damn it…you have no idea how badly i’ve been wanting to do that…” A breathy chuckle escaped your lips, reaching forward once again to peck his lips, the air felt warm, filled with love and unspoken words of affection. Words that didn’t need to be said. Word’s that could be felt. Word’s that could be seen.

Word’s that they could only express through action.

“Me too…me too…” A soft laugh escaped the both of you, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks as you both leaned back in for another kiss.

This one was different. Although there was still that longing for affection, that desire to be closer was becoming overwhelming. His lips parted slightly, taking your bottom lip and gently nipping it, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you tilted your head, deepening the kiss.

As you both became more comfortable, your tongues began to gently prod at each other, soft giggles and chuckles making their way into your kiss as your emotions mixed into one. The atmosphere was comfortable, the movie in the background forgotten, filling the room with its muffled sounds.

You pulled away from Keigo, shifting in his lap to straddle him, pushing him down to lay on the couch before going back to kissing him. His tongue finally slipped through the seams of your lips, running the tip of it over your teeth and gums before finally prodding yours. It was a weird feeling, his fleshy muscle swirling with yours, saliva mixing in the heat of the kiss.

It wasn’t until you felt something twitch against your thigh, that you pulled away again, raising a brow at him as you smiled.

“Excited?”

A faint blush coated his cheek, and an embarrassed chuckle left his lips as he spoke hoarsely.

“S-Sorry…can’t help it…you’re just…”

He stopped mid sentence, staring up at you with a soft smile and hooded eyes. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his hands trailing down from your cheeks, to your neck, to your shoulders, and then to your arms, squeezing the flesh as he admired your body.

“I’m just…?” You asked with a smile, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips as his hands began to travel lower, holding your waist with gentle hands as he murmured.

“Perfect…you’re just…perfect…”

His words were filled with such earnest truth and affection, it was impossible trying to stop the rising blush on your cheeks. You smiled down at him, your hands slowly trailing down to his chest, rubbing his pectorals as you murmured.

“Flirt…” You snorted out playfully.

“Just for you, princess…”

He muttered, a teasing smile on his face as he gently squeezed your waist. His hands began to slowly trail lower, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt gently rubbing small circles on your plush skin.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, a slow heat beginning to form in your lower stomach, guiding your hips to move in a slow roll. You could feel his breath stutter, his hands gently squeezing your waist once again before gently guiding you to roll again, and again, and again, until the both of you were slowly panting from the growing friction.

His eyes were hooded and glassy as he stared up at you, a love stricken expression in his eyes as he began to gently buck his bulge against your heat. Your combined movements were slow and gentle, a mix of deep affection and desire slowly pouring out in tender motions.

You leaned back down, pressing your lips against his once again, the kiss slow and purposeful, filled with affection and now lust. You continued to roll your hips together, the kiss muffling the growing sounds of whimpers and soft groans.

This time it was Keigo who pulled away, pressing soft kisses along your cheeks, before moving down to your jaw. He gently nipped at your flesh, moving lower until he was gently biting down on the flesh of your neck licking the bite marks he left behind.

“I…We don’t have to do this…right now…”

His voice was rough, filled with restrained desire. His hands rubbed up and down your sides,  gently nipping your neck again.

You slowed the roll of your hips until they stopped completely, your hands resting on his chest as you processed his words.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if he didn’t want this, if he was just waiting for an excuse to pull away and stop this. But you knew this wasn’t true. No, he was worried you would regret this. He was worried that you didn’t want this. But you did. You wanted him.

You wanted Keigo Takami. Your best friend. And hopefully, now, your lover.

“I want this. I want you.”

The soft plapping of skin filled your ears, drowning out the endless creaking of your bed frame. Your hands gripped the white sheets below you, face buried into one of the pillows you kept on your bed. Another pillow was under your tummy, helping you arch your back far enough so that Keigo could comfortably grasp your hips, pulling you back to fuck you on his cock.

His groans were soft and quiet, his abs flexing under each thrust as he tilted is head back, soft words of praise leaving his lips.

“You’re doin’ so good f’me baby…takin’ my cock so well…”

A whimper escaped your lips, your aching cunt squeezing his cock as his words went straight to your clit. You moved in rhythm with his thrusts, your cunny desperately trying to take more of his cock, more of him.

The fluttering of his wings was faint, but became louder as the speed of his thrusts increased. You could barely see from your position, but you could have sworn he was using the force of his wings to fuck you harder.

“Feels good, right baby? Fuck…I’ve been wanting to fuck this pretty pussy for so long…ah...been dreaming about this…”

The weight of his balls slapped against your folds, barely hitting your clit as they swung from the force of his movements. The flesh of your ass jiggled and rippled everytime it slapped against his pelvis, his eyes locked onto the way your hole greedily sucked him in. You couldn’t help the way your legs spread further, arching your back once you felt the warmth of his palm spread against the small of your back.

“K-Kei…Keigo…Hah-Mhn…wanna…wanna see you..”

His breath hitched, a small whimper escaping him as his thrusts slowed down, long shallow thrusts causing you to feel every vein and inch through your spongy walls.

“Wanna see me baby? Yeah…Yeah ok…”

He slowly pulled out, his hand immediately going to the base of his cock, pumping his slick covered penis as he watched you roll onto your back. He bit his bottom lip, shuffling closer as he slung your legs over his waist, lining up the tip of his cock to your empty hole.

“Ok…Ok, I’m-I’m putting it back in, okay?”

The small nod of your head was enough for him, and he slowly pushed back inside. First, the head of his cock slipped inside, your sloppy folds eagerly sucking him back in, desperate for more. Then, the rest of his length, each inch slowly sinking deeper and deeper into your cunny until his balls finally rested against your ass, trimmed blonde pubes mixing with your own.

Your hands slowly trailed up your body, resting on your breasts as you slowly began to tweak and pull your nipples, your body beginning to bounce with the slowly increasing pace of each jolt of his hips. His body leans forwards, resting on his forearms as he reaches that mind numbing pace again.

You could feel the tip of his cock pushing against your g-spot, rubbing it with such tenderness it makes your heart flutter. You tilt your head back, breathless moans caught short when he leans down and kisses you, tender and soft despite how rough he’s being with your cunt.

He pulls away from the kiss, littering your cheeks with small pecks of affection. He pulls you closer, the feeling of his cock so eagerly pounding into causes your pussy to slick up with arousal, the room filling with the lewd noises of your coitus.

“I-I love you…Damn it…”

He stuttered out, his hand coming up to cup your cheek stroking it with his thumb as he speaks from his heart.

“I love you so much…I-I don’t…I don’t know when it happened I…I j-just…” A low moan escaped his throat, his body shifting again, pressing down onto your body in an attempt to keep you as close as possible, craving your skin, craving your heat.

Craving you.

“I just- I just remember…fuck-seeing you, seeing you…and thinking…thinking that i’m so fucking glad that I-I have you…so glad…ah…”

A small sob escaped your lips. You couldn’t tell if you were crying, or maybe if your sweat was beginning to drip down your face, but you felt something wet fall. Broken moans mixed with grunts filled your ears, the coil in your stomach fluttering and tightening with each word that left his mouth.

“B-But there…there was something else too- oh god i’m-i’m close- There-there was that feeling, that stupid fucking feeling…of my heart fluttering…of knowing- knowing that…that I was more than just glad…”

His hips stuttered, and your legs tightened around his waist. Oh. Now you were crying. Now you could feel the way your heart ached at his words, the way you could sympathize and relate to his words.

“I-I…I was…I realized that I was in love with you, damn it…and-and it scared me…be-because I knew…I knew you liked me too…”

You could feel his cock twitch inside you, his groans becoming whimpers and his thrusts becoming shallow and rough. The movement made your cunt ache, the coil in your stomach about to snap. He was close. You were close.

“But I-I didn’t want to hurt you…Didn’t-Didn’t wanna ruin what we have- what we had…but I- fuck! fuck fuck fuck fuck! I couldn’t help it anymore! Because I love you! I love you I love you I-”

A burning hot wave of pleasure coursed through you, a sob mixed with a scream of pleasure spilled from your mouth, your orgasm ripping through you as he fucked you through it. Your legs shook, your cunt ached and pulsed, and your heart leapt out of your mouth as you screamed.

”I love you! I love you, Keigo!”

A pathetic wine of pleasure left him, his hips stuttering one last time before he quickly pulled out, lifting himself off your body to violently fist his cock, releasing his burning hot seed onto your stomach. Strings of white coated your flesh, and you could see his body tremble as he faced his own wave of pleasure.

As the final few dribbles of cum spilled from his red slit, he finally leaned back down and pressed his forehead against your own. His pants mingled with your own, his hand gently rubbing the flesh of your waist in a soothing circular motion.

As the two of you slowly came down from your highs, he pressed another kiss on your lips, smiling softly when he pulled away to murmur.

“So you wanna take a shower together?” “Later…”

“Yeah…okay…”

Did you enjoy this? Check out my Masterlist for more!

Dawg this is my longest fic T-T 4,673 words!! Holy carp! Hope you enjoyed my first, and probably longest Keigo Takami fic!

[lunaandco]

dom!gavi nsfw alphabet

pairing: gavi x reader

summary: headcanons of dom!gavi in bed

warnings: obviously nsfw, rough sex

sub!gavi version // masterlist

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's the king of cuddles. He's already very touchy and clingy on his day to day life, but after spending the night with you, it's even more.

He's terrified of coming across as too much while in bed and the aftercare is as much a way of reassuring him that you're alright, as it is of making sure he knows you enjoyed his intensity.

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Of his? His shoulders. He loves the way you cling to them when he's fucking you; the little kisses you give him there from time to time or the way you stare at them. It's obvious you find them hot and he likes that.

Of you? Your neck. There is no way he's passing out on the chance of kissing your neck, sukcing and licking there. He knows all the sensitive spots and loves seeing you with his marks all over. He sometimes likes to rest his hand on your neck like a collar.

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He loves cumming on you.

If he has to wear a condom —whether bc lack of birth control or just recently met you, he will pull out and jack off above you—ass, face, tits, not a single part of you is safe, it would depend on his mood.

If there is any birth control method available—pills, iud implant... he's cumming inside, he loves watching his cum drip out of your fucked out pussy.

D: Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to try anal but is scared you will think he's too filthy.

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's a bit shy, so it takes him a while to dare to talk to girls. His sudden rise to the first team forced him to come out of his shell. He's had more chances than the average 20yo guy, but I don't think he's more experienced than the average. A few flings here and there, three to four steady girlfriends...

F: Favorite Position (this goes without saying)

Doggy. He has all the power there, gets to see how he's sinking into you and how your ass bounces with each thrust. He also loves grabbing you by the hair or your neck and lifting you up until your back is pressed to his chest.

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

He's a ball of fluff and goof normally, but when he gets horny, suddenly everything is very serious. He frowns a lot and in the beginning you thought he was pissed at you, but he was actually turned on.

He doesn't do many jokes in bed, but if you burst out giggling for whatever reason, ge will follow no matter what.

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes)

He's usually well groomed, takes care of it as often as he does the legs or the chest. He likes having a happy trail tho

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's intense, his body always glued to yours one way or another. It doesn't matter how hard or rough he's fucking you, he's always as close as he physically can. There is a lot of eye contact too, he's always checking to make sure you're enjoying it, specially in the beginning when you don't know each other that well.

J: Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Often. Probably everyday, if he's not around you. When you're together, he still keeps the habit. He likes having some me time regularly, it's something intimate he won't give up just because he has a partner. Also because he's horny 24/7 lol

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Brat Taming: Gavi loves putting you in your place. Whether you're just disobeying or just teasing him, he will become a very bossy, forceful dom, always pushing you and manhandling you into doing what he wants you to. He won't shy away from spanking or choking, delighted at the startled noises you make and the bruises in your skin.

Jersey Sex: Wear his kit and soon you'll be bent over the nearest surface. Seeing his name and number in you back always gets him going. Once, you borrowed a Madrid shirt from your brother, just to see what Gavi would do. To this day, it's the hardest fuck of your life.

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Usually the bed, but he's also very into any surface he can bend you over, like the kitchen counter, the loving room table or the bathroom sink.

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

If you're touching him, turn the caresses into slow, focused movements and he'll be yours. Like it was mentioned earlier, seeing you on his kit—or his clothes in general will turn him on. However, he's still very young and temperamental. He gets horny with very little.

N: NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything with food. It's messy—and not in the fun way.

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes eating you out and having you squirming on his tongue, but he's still a boy. There is nothing he loves more than seeing you on your knees, struggling to take him, a mess of saliva, tears and pre cum.

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Fucks like he plays and with that I think I say it all. He's a beast, fierce and sharp.

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Did you really stay the night at Gavi's if you do t have a morning quickie before you need to go to work/training?

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Gavi is young and there is still a lot of things he wants to try. He has a bucket list of different stuff that you like to pick over when you're in the mood for something new.

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

As commentators like to say in matches, Gavi has three lungs. He lasts a while, definitely more than you sometimes, but it gets you off when he uses your body after you've been exhausted like you're some sex doll.

T: Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He's too afraid to buy them himself, but if you have your own, he won't gave any trouble in using them on you.

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Not much. He's direct and straight to the point, even if the point is touching your body for hours at an end before actually fucking you.

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's not a stranger to groans and grunts, his voice is one of your biggest turn ons and he takes advantage of it. He gasps a lot specially when you're sucking him off.

W: Wild Card (a random headcanon for the character)

Gavi loves it when you scratch his back as he fucks you. The embarrassment of his teammates noticing the marks and mocking him is completely worth it, if he gets to feel the reminder of your pleasure every time he moves.

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Average length, but rather on the thick side. The stretch is nice but not uncomfortable.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Every day, sometimes twice a day. Depending on the calendar, adrenaline can get him even more horny. Gavi does not care if you're on your period, he needs to have you and he'll have you no matter what.

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty fast. Between all the football and fucking, he's usually exhausted by the end of the day. It's normal Gavi to pass out mid sentence during the aftercare, which you find quite adorable.

[pudding-parade]

Trying to make a comeback...

Hey all! So I'm later than I hoped to be to try to make a return to Simblr. Honestly, I was a bit demoralized and stayed offline entirely for about two weeks after the election. (I guess Americans have to fuck around to find out that Fascism Bad. 🙄) Then I was a bit busy, and also...

I got two kittens! :D We were feeling OK with filling the spots of the two who had passed away in the last 1.5 years, so we went to the shelter and got these guys. So now we're back to four cats. These two are both boys because, honestly, I prefer boy cats. We've had them for about two weeks.

The orange-and-white one is Jamie and he's about 6.5 months old, and the black one (who's 100% black, not a speck of white on him) is Damien and he's about 3.5 months old. In the pic above they look the same size, but that's just a trick of the camera and their positions in the pic. In reality, Damien is a tiny little bean with tiny little feets who barely weighs 3lbs/1.4kg, while Jamie is an absolute unit of a chonk who already weighs 8lbs/3.6kg, is already bigger than one of our adult cats, and seems to get bigger every day. Not fat, but BIG. Solid. I think he's going to be huge, though hopefully not as huge as my 27lb/12.2kg Maine Coon, Puff. Puff would be displeased if he was no longer the biggest. LOL

Damien had a rough start in life and was found alone, very weak, not fully weaned, and infested with so many fleas that his mucous membranes were white, so his growth may be a little stunted. Which is fine. Now that he's flealess and mostly recovered, he's a ball of perpetual energy who goes, goes, goes until he suddenly collapses into sleep. These two get along really well with each other and the other two cats (because we/they completely failed at the recommended slow introduction), but they're still getting used to the dogs.

Also, Jamie has the sweetest huge puppy-dog eyes, for a cat:

(Sorry for the crappy pic quality. I don't own anything that takes decent pics because I'm not really into taking pictures. I took these with my Kindle tablet, which is meant more for Zooming and does all right in bright light, as in the first pic, but doesn't have a flash so doesn't really do low light, as in the solo pic of Jamie. I had to edit that one a lot. LOL)

So yeah. I did start a new TS3 save last night. Just something simple with no complex rules to follow like all my other saves. LOL So hopefully I'll have some pics later and get back to my usual flaky posting schedule and hopefully get back to doing world overviews.

Hope the USians out there had a nice Thanksgiving. :) See y'all later.

[rhapsodynew]

#rare photos

RARE PHOTOGRAPHS OF GEORGE HARRISON TAKEN BY PAUL MCCARTNEY IN 1959.

Paul McCartney and George Harrison at that time lived just one stop away from each other in the so-called "Trading Estate" in Speke.

During these bus trips, George found out that Paul plays trumpet and got a guitar, and Paul found out that George plays guitar, they got together at night and played songs that Paul remembers, such as "Besame Mucho" and "Don't Rock me Daddy O".

Paul and George became fast friends, even hitchhiking to Wales in August 1959 before they became famous and joined The Beatles.

"Better times with George? We hitchhiked to a place in Wales called Harlech, we were kids." We heard the song "Men Of Harlech", saw it on the sign, yes, there was a big castle. And we just went there. We had guitars everywhere and we ended up in this cafe. You know, we tried to go to some place, to a central meeting place, there was a small cafe in Harlech that had a jukebox. So we sat down there. We met a guy, he started talking, he was into rock and roll, you know, we went and stayed at his house. - Paul McCartney

"One day Paul and I decided to hitchhike. This is something that no one dreams of today. Firstly, you will probably be robbed before you even pass through the Mercy Tunnel, and secondly, everyone has cars and they are already stuck in traffic. I often traveled with my family to the south, to Devon, to Exmouth, so Paul and I decided to go there first. "We didn't have a lot of money. We found a bed and breakfast. We got to a city, walked down the street, it started to get dark. We saw a woman and said, "Excuse me, do you know where we can stay?" She felt sorry for us and said, "My boy has left, come and stay at my house." She took us to her place, she allowed us to stay in her boy's room and cooked breakfast for us the next morning. She was very sweet. I do not know who she was.

"We continued along the south coast towards Exmouth. On the way, we talked at the pub with a customer who told us his name was Oxo Whitney. (He later appears in "A Spaniard in the Works". After we told John this story, he used this name. Most of John's books are based on funny things that were told to him.) Then we went to Paignton. We still had almost no money. We had small backpacks, we stopped at grocery stores. We bought spaghetti bolognese or spaghetti Milanese. They were in striped cans: Milanese with red stripes, bolognese with blue stripes. And rice with Ambrosia cream. We opened the jar, bent the lid and held the jar over the stove to keep it warm. It was what we lived for.

"We arrived in Paignton with no extra money, so we spent the night on the beach, got up in the morning and went for a walk again. We drove through North Devon and took the ferry to South Wales because Paul had a relative, so we decided to go there. "In Chepstow, we went to the police station and asked to stay in the cell. They said, "No." So we went and slept on a hardboard bench. It's damn cold. We left there and hitchhiked on. Moving north through Wales, we were given a lift by truck. Back then, trucks didn't have a passenger seat, so I sat on the engine cover. Paul was sitting on the radiator. He was wearing jeans with zippers on the back pockets and after a while he suddenly jumped up screaming.His zipper connected the positive and negative poles of the battery, heated red hot and left a mark. "When we finally got to Butlins, we couldn't get there. They had barbed wire fences to keep the campers and us out. That's why we had to break in." – George Harrison, The Beatles Anthology.

1960s

George, Paul and Ringo, Vee Caldwell House, Liverpool, 1961

George, Rory Storm, Ringo, Johnny "Guitarist" Byrne and their friends, Vee Caldwell House, Liverpool, 1961

George and Paul, the Cashba Club, February 1961

[billysgirllol]

“i do, actually. over there in my bag, i got a song book. i wrote a ballad about things i’ve seen. when i was a babe, i fell down in a holler. when i was a girl, i fell into your arms. we fell on hard times and we lost our bright color. you went to the dogs and i lived by my charms.” talking through the song rather than singing it, feeling no energy to strain her voice that much. i danced for my dinner, spread kisses like honey. you stole and you gambled, and i said you should. we sang for our suppers, we drank up our money. the one day you left, saying i was no good. “besides that, i don’t want them to remember me— i disappeared, even coriolanus didn’t find out if he succeeded in killin’ in me.” unless he’s coriolanus or coriolanus really does have a twin brother and he sent him to find her. the more he talks, the more he acts, the less it starts feeling like coriolanus to where it’s undeniable and unable to be faked. his thumb on her cheek making her eyes squeeze shut tighter, reminding her of the moment in the zoo when he wiped her tears then. after that, he became mostly unaffectionate. since when does coriolanus word things like that? speak like this? peeling her eyes open, she slowly moves her head to look over her shoulder to stare at him. brows gently creased, brain coming to a little bit of her senses, an odd feeling come over her she might be staring at an entirely different person. giving a tiny, “okay.” permission to help her. listening to the story about his family, she feels sorry for him. which is conflicting, because he’s not supposed to be his own person— he’s connected to coriolanus one way or another. “that’s horrible.” gently shaking her head, hand touches his for comfort. “if i make it to see another day, then you can be apart of my covey.” but that may be her fevering already, deciding to be woozy and accept him like he didn’t betray her. “you didn’t turn vengeful against those people?” lucy gray wonders quietly after a minute or so passes. “it just scared me.” but gently nods to let him know she knows she’s safe, she doesn’t know how she feels safe when he never made her feel that way before but maybe that’s just death around the corner. maybe that’s the lord’s comfort. they did say dyin’ was a lot like that, maybe this is it. forgiveness and safety, because the lord’s safety is greater than any one or anything trying to hurt you.

“i just feel tired tryin’ to survive. once fightin’ through it all seemed worth it, to keep goin’ cause that is what the covey would want. but i’ve lost my hope and will. this is the dead end for me, i’ve sung all i could sing out.” lucy gray replies, soaking the teddy bear’s colorful skirt, her mama’s clothing she used to make the bear’s skirt. it has her tears intensifying and mourning her absence even more. “i had older siblin’s too.” just because she was the smallest, she survived. able to squeeze into a small nook of a tree when her mother told them to all go find a hiding place, she never would’ve done it if she knew her mother wasn’t planning to hide too. “i’m too tired to eat, but i’ll try.” not sleepy tired, just mentally tired and physically tired. that little running and adrenaline spike she had because of him caused her to exert what energy she had left. she hasn’t eaten anything in two days, fruits and leaves becoming more scarce to find the colder it gets. “yeah, there’s some truth to that.” that a covey can be a patchwork family. but — he’s coriolanus and he can’t be trusted. “mm..hm.” usually, she’d laugh but there’s no will to even do that in her. tear drops still slipping off her cheeks, feeling better when he lays the blanket over her body. limbs feel like jello, her head feeling heavy, all of this and processing he’s still coriolanus or not coriolanus but looks like coriolanus all at the same time. it’s all too much. and the slam of the thunderstorm making the floor vibrate, causing her to flinch, burying herself deeper in the bear. hand on her leg trying to soothe the pain away.

[wanderingknights]

Started thinking about crow!Rook, Neve and the Minrathous decision and ended up spiraling about Rook/Viago and being favored by your talon (being the kings bastard son)

You fuck up a big Crow operation and instead of being killed (like anyone else would be) Viago simply sends you away (after yelling a lot). You get roped into an insane plot to save the world and some time later run into what is most definitely the love of your life standing over dead venatori like it’s nothing (her names Neve and youre a goner). Some crazy ritual later some gods get released and after months of being away you get to go back home. Viago is still angry and yells at you about it but everyone around keeps implying he’s easier to deal with when you’re around (yeah right). After recruiting a grey warden your fellow crow and Neve let you know that the cities are under attack and you need to go to one. Your heart wants to go home but logically you know how bad it’ll get if the venatori take over. This is where your belief in Viago comes in. He’s the talon that survived a direct attack that killed 3 other talons, if anyone can find a way to survive through the worst things it’s him. Two De Rivas, one in each city, thats the only way to win. Except you save Minrathous and go home to a destroyed city, turns out your talon is just a man and your blind faith in him doomed your city.

You do what you can to help around Treviso while the accusing glares of your fellow crows follow you around everywhere. And again if it were anyone else they would be dead already but having the talons favor (being the kings son) means that you get away with a lot and crows know better than to target you directly. Time passes, you save the world and get to watch your love blossom and become someone who trusts and leans on the people around her (she’ll never be an optimist about almost anything but she learns to rely on her friends always). And while shes more open with your friends (family really) you feel yourself get more and more paranoid each passing day. Crows betray each other, that’s just how it is and now that the world is safe there’s no reason for them to not go after you. You’ve always made fun of Viago for being on edge all the time and distrusting of everyone around him but it’s different now when you know you’ve got a big target on your back. He’s let you get away with everything, even letting Treviso down, somebody is going to want you dead you just know. And while you don’t exactly regret your decisions you do start to take his lessons much more seriously, I mean he is right, food and drinks are just so easy to poison no reason not to take your time and test them every single time.

[localboobsenjoyer]

It wasn't the first time you were booked by a woman, but it was still unusual. Usually it's just men with mommy issues that require your unique services. Being the best (only) lactation sex worker certainly had its pros. Many of your clients are so deep into this fetish that just sucking your milk is enough for them. You kind of like that aspect of the job. Your massive, lactating boobs feel like a superpower to you. Few women have breasts as big as you, and even fewer of them can even lactate, let alone match your milk production. And thanks to what has now become your job, your boobs started to grow again, thanks to all that extra stimulation. Your client was already there once you arrived in your room. She was already topless. She was quite cute, but unfortunately for her, very flat. That was a pity because some boobs would have really completed her figure.

That said, you weren't there for judging her. After getting yourself topless as well, you begin the session. You were immediately blown away. The way she sucked your breast was unlike anyone else. Within moments, your pussy was drenched. It felt really awesome. She went on for a lot longer than you were expecting. Despite her slender body and tiny frame, she drank more than any other client you ever had. So much so that she literally sucked you dry. This had happened before after a busy day, but never before after just one session. "I'm sorry, but there is nothing left. You somehow drank all the milk for today; there is nothing left." For the first time all day, she looked at you in the eyes and said, with an evil grin on her face, "I'm just getting started; your milk was just the beginning." She said, beginning to suck even strongly from your empty bosom. Nothing has ever felt as good as what you were feeling right now, so much so that you passed away. You dont know after how much time you woke up, but you could feel some liquid being sprayed on your face. You rose quickly due to how much lighter you felt. But you weren't ready for what just happened. Your previously flatchest client now sported a massive pair of boobs even bigger than yours. She was also heavily lactating. You only just realized that the liquid to wake up to was milk.

Your milk most likely. Because she stole it all. And not just that. You felt so light because, not happy with your milk, she also stole your size. Your previously impressive bosom was now reduced to nothingness. You were paralyzed. She told something about revenge—what's right and what's wrong—but you were lost. Your breasts were gone. Your milk was gone. Your life was gone. Even years later, both your boobs and milk never came back. And you have never seen that girl since.

[sickficideas]

Eeeeee ty for answering my dandadan ask!!!

Though I love both of them I'm a bit biased towards okarun so Ill focus on him (tho I might come back for momo later)

Curious about when the random fevers started after he started transforming, how did discovering that side effect go? When did they start, and how often do they happen, and any other details you have about them? How worried do people get about him too

I am a sucker for fevers, esp when someone does the tender hand on forehead check it's so cute, and the thought of momo (or anyone else) feeling okarun's forehead got me giddy

- danon (dandadan anon lol)

DANON.....that's like the perfect name welcome back!!! This is kind of related to that fic I'm writing so I've already thought about this a lot and am very happy to answer LOL...

- 12-24 hours after Okarun transforms is when the fevers usually start and they started pretty much right away after gaining that power. The first few times he didn't transform for any great length of time and as a result just dealt with drawn-out low grade fevers where he just feels terrible and doesn't know why.

- Momo notices the change in behavior because she watches him like a hawk and is The Overthinker...he's always tired and seems sore and slow the day after using his Yokai form but she doesn't usually connect that it's a fever. A few times she notices he has a fever, she's nervous about taking care of him but (forcefully) makes sure he's drinking water and taking medicine lol💖

- It Slowly starts to get worse though...the longer he uses that form, the worse he feels after, and the change is sudden and drastic enough for Momo to notice that something is very wrong. He's visibly stumbling or ends up passing out, maybe even hallucinating (Momo always worries it's real, after all, who knows what all these aliens are capable of). If she's ever concerned to any degree she makes him come home with her (and her excuse is always that she'll be too worried about him not taking enough care of himself that she won't be able to sleep...not cause she's in love with him or anything pshhh...)

- I love the idea of one day he's so sick from it that he can hardly lift his head, he's in Momo's room on a mattress on the floor, she thought he was acting weird at school but it seemed like he completely fell apart as soon as they got home 😭 She ends up involving Seiko and she deduces pretty quickly that it's Turbo Granny's power's fault (to which Turbo Granny has no input because how could she have known this was a side effect lol)

- They never last long though, never more than 12-24 hours, and he always feels fine after no matter how bad the fever was, and Momo is always keeps an extra close eye on him in case he's lying to avoid her worrying about him lol...she's checking his forehead all day long and she does Not Care how many times her friends tease her for it!!

- The Gang coming around obviously joins in on the concern...Jiji noticing that Okarun isn't feeling well and Okarun begging him to not tell Momo (Jiji does not listen, he Will be telling Momo), and Aira being overprotective too (to Momo's dismay), Okarun is so glad that he has friends that care about him like this but he's embarrassed and shy about the attention lol💔💔