#man i’m. i’m so good. i’m haunted and i feel tiny and too big at the same time but i’m. at the same time i’m so so good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brick-a-doodle-do · 1 year ago

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i know myself so well DVFEWJRS

HERE IT IS!! LAST CHAPTER IN MAIN SERIES! i started this doc on halloween and finished it around fourth of july! good god!

also i forgot to add bht thank you to xyz for help with this chapter !! part of the last scene was completely their idea :D

the egg scene will forever haunt me. i was stuck on that for at least three months.

not quite ready (iii; final)

(i, ii)

words: 4515 (😱😱😱)

cw: vore mention, dehumanization, mentions of depression, descriptions of questioning reality ? idk the word for that :I

—–—

The following morning, Wilbur sits with himself in silence. The apartment was quiet, broken only by the quiet whooshes of cars rushing in the busy streets down below and the occasional hum from the air conditioner.

By the time the bedroom door that had sat undisturbed for hours creaked open with practiced silence, he didn't know how much time had passed.

That feeling was familiar.

He hates to circle back to the very thing he’s so luckily escaped from, but every little thing he did would remind him of it. Wilbur doesn’t know Tommy very well yet, and he can’t say he’s drawn to doing so, but it’s nice to be able to gaze at the chocolate bag without looking at the walls he only saw as one great big endless void.

He can hear Tommy’s weight shift onto the floorboards softly as he makes his way through the apartment. Wilbur tossed to his side, eyes staring at the cloth of the couch. Familiarity washes over him and drowns him. He had spent too long staring at a dark, blank slate. Why does his freedom entail the very same thing?

Wilbur frowns, shifting back up to the ceiling, where Tommy just barely looms over the edge of the couch. A shiver runs through his body at the startle, but ultimately it’s nice to see him, because it was grounding to see another living and breathing something.

“Oh, fuck, sorry—” Tommy murmurs, his hands resting on the back of the couch and pushing the cushion down just slightly to see the tiny better. Wilbur shrugs, looking deeply into the eyes that blink without a rhythm. Tommy is alive.

Wilbur is too.

Tommy’s chest rises and falls and his hair shifts as his head moves just barely so their eye-contact could disperse. Wilbur’s chest rises and falls too, and he can hear his heartbeat that thumps softly against his ears as they sit in utter silence.

“Well, um, I’m gonna go, yeah? You alright here?”

He considered it, and he should’ve said he was. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he’d apparently lost control of his response and blurted out an extremely abrupt: “No, please stay with me. I–I can’t sleep and I really can’t have it be quiet any longer.”

“Oh,” Tommy murmurs, “okay. Yeah, I can do that for sure. Do you want me to sit down?” he asks, already making his way over to the tiny.

The borrower nods, trying not to listen to the voice in his head. Tommy obliges and walks around the edge of the couch, a certain slowness to his movements, and sits down just inches away from the pillow he was on.

Wilbur sits up, sinking slightly in the middle of the feathers, but his next-to-nothing weight, for the most part, keeps him still. Tommy keeps his hands in his lap, nails picking softly at his skin. It’s quiet for a moment, but Tommy speaks up with the inevitable question, “Did you sleep last night?”

Wilbur shakes his head, “No, I couldn’t. Did you?”

“A little bit,” Tommy replies, and Wilbur notices how the hem of the human’s shirt has been caught between his fingers. “Hey, um, Wilbur?” Tommy asks. Wilbur looks up. “Are you feeling alright after that whole, uh…thing?”

Wilbur shrugs, the phantom feeling of being in the bag already fading from his memory, but in the same way never uprooting. He swallows. “I can't say I feel the best, but I'm getting better. Thank you for what you've done, I don't know where I'd be right now.”

“Oh, nah man, you didn't deserve to be there in the first place! Just helpin’ a guy out, y’know?” Tommy flashes him a fond smile, and the human’s humor wafts into his face, the sweet scent of underlying pity burning his throat. He laughs dryly, unsure of where to lead the conversation so that the suffering sound of nothing can’t bother him any longer, because so many of his days had been spent with little but the occasional muffled chime from the store’s door or the hushed chatter from city-goers as they pass in and out.

Tommy looks like he wants to say something, his lips parting with every passing second Wilbur sits with the reminisce of the past. He considers pointing the fact out, but instead he lets them sit in the shared silence before the teenager’s inevitable saving grace would show.

Half a minute has passed and they haven't broken eye-contact.

The gesture might’ve scared past-Wilbur, though post-incident-Wilbur has never felt more thrilled at the contact of another being. And when his eyes drift down to the fingers that still fidget with the cloth anxiously, he can't help but imagine how grounding it would feel for fingers to close over him.

He shudders at the thought, however, because it’s an entirely other scenario to be trapped by a human. It’s a conflicting battle that leaves him absentmindedly shifting closer.

Tommy is quiet.

Wilbur is quiet.

A car honks down on the streets below, startling Wilbur.

Tommy, awkwardly, clears his throat. “I’m going back to London in a few weeks, can’t be long now, uhm, do you want to come with me? I don’t want to force you, but you don’t seem like the typa’ fella to just pick life back up, respectfully ‘n all.” Wilbur considers it, and the silence draws taut.

“That’s a bit last-minute, don’t you agree?” he asks.

“Right, like I said you’re not, like, fuckin’ obligated to or whatever. Just thought it might be nice, givin’ you a heads up ‘n all,” Tommy reassures him. It’s not exactly convincing; Wilbur finds himself wondering how much of Tommy is really okay with him staying here.

Wilbur swallows, running his fingers through the flap of his hair. “I don’t know, and don’t expect an answer. Not anytime soon.”

“Right, yeah, don’t decide right now,” Tommy chirps, leaning against the couch and sighing. “Are you hungry? I could fuckin’ eat right now,” he adds.

Wilbur stares right at him.

Tommy sits, oblivious with his leg bouncing as he awaits Wilbur’s response. Eventually, his eyes shifted in realization when the silence had drawn on too long. “Oh, oh fuck—I didn’t mean it like that, I don’t want anything like that—” Tommy rushes, the words coming out a warp. Wilbur shakes his head, the beginning of laughter escaping him, though drying up at the edge of his throat.

“You’re fine, king, you’re all good. Just a bit jumpy after everything, you get it,” he replies simply.

“I actually don’t really get it,” Tommy argues. There’s another beat of silence, Wilbur staring at Tommy’s hands. “Well, uh, seriously then, do you want food?”

Wilbur nods eagerly.

Food, real food sounded extravagant; his teeth had rotten away over all the times he’d filled up on chocolate.

The taste of something savory over the weeks had often been his imagination while he bit into the bud of candy, pretending easily that it was something different, like, a rather pleasant portion of fruit he’d scored while a human was away or something he managed to buy in his short time of freedom.

Tommy nods, shuffling up off of the couch and leaving him in the lonely living room again, back to sitting with his own thoughts, only this time with a newfound light after the human had flicked it on.

Suddenly, Tommy comes back into view as he gently leans over the back of the couch. So close. Like how he had been when he’d peered into the candy bag—

“Wilbur,” Tommy urges. When Wilbur seems to have blinked out of his memory, the human continues. “What do you want? You allergic to anything?”

He blinks. Alurgic?

“Uh….I don’t think I know what that means,” Wilbur admits.

“Oh, uh, I’ll take that as a no. I don’t have it in me to explain,” Tommy says, smiling at him like Wilbur is supposed to know what that means.

When Tommy takes his expression that grows even more confused by the following silence as a response, he tries to shake it off with a swift: “Can I take you over to the kitchen, then? Or do you think you still could fall asleep?”

“I can’t fall asleep,” Wilbur responds quickly.

Tommy nods. “I’m gonna put my hand down on the pillow,” the human announces. He does—though irritatingly slow. He was unsure about humans, and it seemed both of them recognized that, but Wilbur wasn’t glass.

When Tommy had stopped moving and instead kept his eyes glued to the borrower, he moved with his shoulders slicked back to hide the anxiety of being watched so intensely.

Tommy’s skin was rough under his own as he got situated on his palm.

Memories of being held by other (more resentful) humans fought their way through his archives, but he felt oddly soothed for how loud his head was.

Almost immediately after he had settled in the center of Tommy’s hand, gravity shifted and he watched as the world grew further from him. He wasn’t startled (Prime knows he’s been through worse) as his world shifted with each of Tommy’s movements, in fact he was still as at ease as he could be.

The rest of the apartment wasn’t anything special.

Ahead of them was a kitchen, to the right was the front door, and to the left there were two other closed doors. He couldn’t take the house for anything personalized, so he probably hadn’t been here for longer than a few months. Still, it wasn’t the cleanest thing ever, but he couldn’t expect anything different from a kid Tommy’s age.

(He’s seen it first-hand from the walls)

(*)

Tommy’s muscle memory kept him from wandering into the kitchen counter as his eyes kept a strong stare onto Wilbur.

It wasn't anything particularly different than the other times he had talked or even seen a tiny, but even despite how little they've known each other it still felt more personal. Wilbur had been through a lot and Tommy was getting to help him.

And he’s already cracked the ice, he noted as Wilbur barely reacts when he gently tilts him off of his hand and onto the kitchen island.

He turns his back to him to search the fridge.

There was barely anything there, just a cool-lighted wasteland with a few leftovers that he can't remember packaging in the first place.

An egg carton was nestled between two takeout boxes (had he tried organizing?) and it caught his gaze the second look around the fridge.

“Uhh, we have eggs,” Tommy suggests.

There's silence for a moment, then, barely distinguished from behind him, “That sounds fine.”

Wilbur sounded distracted, if somehow that was possible.

“Great, because I don’t actually think I can make anything except that,” Tommy deadpans, chuckling to himself at his own joke. He watches Wilbur crack a smile and a quiet laugh on his way to the stove with the egg carton in hand.

He flicks on the dial against the back of the stove, turning it to a medium heat before opening a cabinet to pull out a bowl.

Tommy follows the routine of whisking the eggs then pouring them in and waiting. For a minute, Tommy’s attention lingers on what’s stood behind him, but he doesn’t voice his curiosity, nor his concern or sociable desires.

He just stands over the stove, watching the eggs, prodding at them with a spatula as they form into something edible. When they’re decidedly done, he sprinkles salt over them and calls it quits. He figures Wilbur won’t be particular about his culinary abilities when his past appetite consisted of chocolate.

The idea makes his head hurt, thinking about how someone so human, even despite their sharp, obvious difference, could be locked away like how Wilbur had been.

Tommy could only imagine how dark it could’ve been—completely isolated from any kind of outside contact and intended to be thrown away, eaten like a piece of candy.

Must have been difficult.

“Pardon?” a small voice from behind him asks, and Tommy tenses. Had he said that out loud?

Tommy blinks, and suddenly his hand is moving on its own and folding the eggs into themselves to finish the dish.

Prime, he was tired as shit.

He moves to turn the stove off and sets the pan aside on another burner, then opens a cabinet and pulls a plate off of the lower shelf, the ceramic noises like nails on a chalkboard to him. The plate clinks as it’s set down, then Tommy retrieves the pan of eggs and stares at them, long and hard. Not his best work.

Discouragement aside, he pulls a fork out of a drawer and spoons on the helping of eggs onto the plate. Good enough for government work, huh? Wilbur won’t care, anyway.

He takes a fork from a nearby drawer, then spins around, (blinking away the throb in his eyes when the lights hit his face), and sets the plate down on the kitchen island, just a few respectable inches from Wilbur, who stood with his hand on his arm, standing noticeably awkward.

(*)

Food. Actual, real food. Albeit made in no time at all and served by a teenager in a New York apartment, but still something that was an honest, feasible replacement from his past diet.

He stares at it. Tommy’s attention turns away from him, and he still stares at the plate of eggs.

As Tommy was still distracted pulling up a chair from the other side of the counter, Wilbur steps forward cautiously and crouches down, peeling a small portion off of the eggs and stuffing it in his mouth. He swears to Prime that if Tommy were not nearly staring directly at him, Wilbur very well might have considered melting.

The eggs were not seasoned and they were not slow-cooked, but they were heaven. Were he a functioning member of society, (And assuming he was still very much mentally troubled after certain events), and Tommy was his waiter, he would give it a five out of five.

Carefully, Wilbur takes another piece off of the egg and gnaws at it, savoring the unadorned flavor with every aspect of his senses. The feeling of rubber, (Almost), which clashes with his usual expectation of soft-then-syrupy, the bland flavor that was absolutely new to him, and the bright yellow color that contrasted with the black that he always just imagined as color. His void always had been a playground for imagination.

“Thank you,” Wilbur says through a mouthful, to which Tommy smiles weakly and sits down—after much delay, as if Tommy could’ve felt as awkward as Wilbur did right now.

Tommy grabs a fork and grabs a tentative bite, then through a mouthful, mumbles: “No problem, mate.” Through the corner of his eye, Wilbur watches Tommy and tries not to snicker at the forced face the blond makes to push through his disapproval of the meal.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, this shit takes like heaven,” he says, smally but still loud enough for Tommy to hear.

“I think I’ll throw up if I have one more bite of this, It’s completely yours, then,” Tommy says, pushing the plate a little closer to Wilbur for emphasis. Wilbur shifts back on instinct, looking up anxiously at Tommy before calming down. Sorry,” Tommy adds quickly. Wilbur waves him off and takes a smaller piece of egg to chew on absentmindedly.

“The fucking chocolate has been making my teeth rot,” Wilbur says, huffing a bit like it’s a joke. Like one of those things to look back on and laugh at.

Tommy doesn’t seem amused, though. “That sounds awful, man,” he adds.

“It’s not anymore, ‘cause now someone’s gone and saved me,” Wilbur reassures, gesturing mildly to Tommy.

“You’re welcome!” Tommy says, smiling like a child who’s helped with a chore unprompted. His mood changes are unmatched, Wilbur notes duly.

After that, time passed slowly, and for once, there wasn’t dread that followed. Tommy had cleaned breakfast up, and Wilbur kept the silence away while talking about this and that, until Tommy announced he needed to get groceries for his last couple of weeks in New York. Tommy’s plan was to have Wilbur stay back, but he declined, and instead asked to tag along.

For that reason, he rested carefully on Tommy’s shoulder, back resting against Tommy’s neck, completely vulnerable.The thought of that concerned him; to think about how any one of these people could work for that god-awful facility he was sent to, or any one of them could be holding a borrower captive, or how any of these people could absolutely hate his kind, and here he was, out in the open for any of those people to see. It was worrisome, and that had him tightening the grip of the hem of his sweater.

Tommy was pleasingly quiet, though, and it was just the two of them listening to music. (Or as much music as he could hear from sitting under the human’s earbud.)

He would’ve thought it to be harder to stay on someone’s shoulder, but even from the start he was persistent on that spot, only because it would’ve been incredibly difficult for Tommy to reach him without Wilbur noticing first—although he had gotten a little bit on edge when Tommy reached up to fix his hair or adjust his earbud. Sure, the human made him food and had gotten him out of that wretched bag, and had seemed pretty genuine about not eating him, he still wasn’t ready to be hand-held or in his pocket where he couldn't see everything.

Also, it was warmer here. Tommy and his need to linger around chilled foods.

Wilbur looks around, through Tommy’s curls, staring at the variety of foods. They were too far for him to recognize, (Not that he would know any of them by heart, considering he grew up on things he could score on the counter), but it was still so refreshing to see something real.

Suddenly, as his eyes graze over something on a high shelf, someone walks past and locks eyes with him. Wilbur tenses. The lady tenses, stopping abruptly. Unfortunately for him, Tommy also stops to look at something.

The lady gives a curious, almost disgusted look, and Wilbur, not knowing what to do, proceeds to flip her off.

It was not until that motion Wilbur realized he was just caught doing something to absolutely draw attention to himself until he was much too late.

“You!” the lady says, rather loudly—definitely enough for Tommy to turn his attention to her. “Control that thing,” she finishes, a certain type of offensive dripping from her tongue that makes even Tommy tense. Wilbur flinches at her voice, somehow moving closer to Tommy despite being right up against his neck. He crosses his arms, some kind of half-frustrated-half-ready-to-cry feeling washing over him which leaves him stone-faced and unmoving.

Thing. A single word and suddenly he’s back at the factory, being manhandled and thrown into a container with other borrowers, some panicked, some angry, and some oddly accepting. Wilbur was angry, pissed. He had been granted freedom from being cooped up in the walls with nothing to do except get food whenever he ran out. And he finally got a chance to see the world, to walk on pavement made for people his size and be social. And he had, for a week, and then he had made a lucky call when trusting someone and gotten thrown into a bag not a day later, sealed in darkness.

When Tommy had found him, however-long later, he couldn’t say he saw someone with the intent to capture him again. He saw a savior, and maybe that’s why he was so relaxed. Reality felt there again. He felt like he existed, and he didn’t pinch himself every five minutes to check he was really there. His limbs weren’t numb, and he could hum to himself without it feeling like the only thing to do.

Back at the supermarket, blinking his way out of memories, he realizes Tommy hasn’t said anything back, he just scoffs and mutter’s a whispered ‘fucking bitch’, and walks off, right past the woman who murmurs something incoherent to Wilbur. (He still knows it was about him.)

At the very least, Wilbur has walked away from that situation now knowing words can’t hurt anymore in comparison to his situation just barely a few days ago.

“People are awful,” Tommy whispers under his breath.

Wilbur just pats Tommy’s shoulder.

“Aren’t you fucking revenge-seeking or some shit?”

“No. I’m not a child,” Wilbur explains, and Tommy hides his laughter at a low snicker.

“You’re a bitch,” Tommy whispers, turning away immediately at the look he got from a stranger in the aisle. Wilbur laughs whole-heartedly, the sound escaping despite how hard he tried not.

(*)

His head hurts, with thoughts going a mile a fucking minute. The scent of chocolate undoubtedly drifting from Wilbur on his shoulder was making a repetitive thought resurface no matter how much he wanted to shut it up.

Wilbur smelled appetizing. He knew he would taste even better.

But he knows he can’t act on his urges because even if swallowing a borrower was safe, he couldn’t. Not for Wilbur, because he just got off a near-death experience, and he can’t fuck up freedom even more for Wilbur by giving him essentially the exact same experience, no matter how reassuring he thought he could be.

So, instead, he chose comedy over a very real and threatening problem.

(*)

“You reek of chocolate,” Tommy murmurs, opening the door to the apartment and letting it shut loudly behind him. Wilbur flinches, but calms down just as quickly.

“I don’t remember seeing a mini-flat in the, uh, bag,” Wilbur retaliates.

Tommy, playfully, scoffs. “Well, like I think I could fill up a sink or something and you could get the grime off of you,” the blond offers.

Wilbur pauses for a moment. “I guess ..?” he says, slow and uncertain.The idea was more than pleasing, but at the same time, it felt like an awful offer to take up. He would be vulnerable in water, arguably something that he rarely had experience with outside of an unfortunately occasional shower whenever he could score it.

At his approval, Tommy guided the two of them to a bathroom, and carefully drew his hand up to where Wilbur was, not grabbing at him, but letting Wilbur carefully pad is way off of Tommy’s shoulder and onto his laid-out hand, where Wilbur got himself comfortable—while at the same time leaving time to sprint off if he needed to—and waited for Tommy to set him down onto the bathroom counter.

Shifting over to be in front of the sink, Tommy then pushes something inside the sink down, then pulls both handles to the sink forward, and leaves the flowing water gushing for a few seconds before shutting it off and stepping aside.

“That water will either be fucking freezing or room-temperature but I can’t exactly change that, so, uhm, just sit through it, I guess,” Tommy says. Wilbur can’t exactly tell if he was apologizing or not, but he appreciated the warning.

“Don’t have much of a choice,” Wilbur shrugs.

“That’s the spirit!” Tommy laughs, then grabs something off of a shelf, folding it over the counter but letting a corner of it fall into the sink, which Wilbur considers relieving; the sink seemed too deep for his liking.

But, even with the advantage of the towel, he still wasn’t convinced this was something he was looking forward to. From afar, he can feel Tommy’s stare on him. He turns his head that way, and catches Tommy’s strong gaze. Snapping out of some kind of pseudo-trance, Tommy moves closer to him and sets something in the sink.

“I can’t really portion out soap yet, but here’s a spare bar I haven’t opened yet. Should help; you smell so sweet I swear to fuck if you don’t take a bath I’m going swallow you on accident,” Tommy says, yawning. He fucking yawns, meanwhile Wilbur’s whole world halts. He stares up at Tommy, who he had just an hour ago been raving about his trust with.

He had heard Tommy right, no doubt.

“What?” Wilbur asks through his shock.

Tommy wrinkles his brows, then unwrinkles them as they raise high and his face goes more shocked than Wilbur’s.

“Oh—nononononono, Wilbur, fuck. Wil, I’m so tired, I fucking—I didn’t mean to say that,” Tommy backtracks immediately. Wilbur can’t say he buys it. “I didn’t fucking— I wasn’t thinking, fuck, I swear to Prime I don’t want to do that, I’d never—” Tommy makes a choked noise and cuts himself off.

Wilbur swallows, unsure of how to respond. Clearly, he has some kind of high-ground here despite being…well, him.

“I–uh,” Wilbur’s voice runs almost dry. “There’s no reason to lie,” Wilbur says.

Tommy’s face falls. “I’m not lying, I—I didn’t think about what I was saying, I’m a fucking idiot, I am not a..a thinker or whatever the fuck it’s called,” Tommy tries. Still. Persistent motherfucker.

“You’re thinking about that,though, aren’t you?”

“Uhh….well,” Tommy pauses. “As a joke..obv—obviously, you actually think I’d…want to hurt you like that?”

“Swallowing me isn’t going to hurt me.”

Tommy seemed a little taken-aback by that. “Mentally. It will mentally.” Wilbur shrugs at that, staring into the pool of water that’s gotten a little foamy the longer the soap bar floats around in it. “I, uh, think I’ll go. Put away groceries and shit.”

Wilbur watches intently Tommy pick his pace up and walk past him, (Where Wilbur’s attention was nowhere but Tommy’s hands, which remained eerily still), then out of the bathroom with a solemn click of the door.

And now, Wilbur has been left alone, after a particularly jarring comment that leaves him wondering just how much longer Tommy will go playing the good guy. He did have to be thinking about swallowing him to have said it, accidentally or not. It was an intentional thought. He wasn’t that stupid.

Trying to drive his attention away from his inevitable fate, he turns his attention to the sink. The water’s temperature has probably dropped already, so with slight hesitation, he undresses and finds a way into the sink, (Which in the end was trying-to-inch-his-way-down-then-falling-in), then rests with the feeling of water against him. It was an alien feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. He waved his hand around the soapy water and heard it whoosh around him. That was real. The sink bowl that towered above him was real, and as he touched it, it felt cold and slippery against his touch.

Wilbur looks up, and the light fixture above him burns into his eyes. That was real.

He pinches himself. That was real, and he was still alive, through the world of darkness for only a lonely period of his life that’s over now.

—–—

#mw #brickfic #wilbur chocolate au #cw vore mention #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dream smp g/t #dream smp gt #t!wilbur #tiny!wilbur #g!tommy #giant!tommy #WOOHOOoo!!!!! eight months later ^_^#thanks for breaking 100 notes on the other 2 chapters btw !! i am so hype about that :D

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shieldofiron · 2 years ago

Note

As a celebration for unshadowban- trans alpha Billy?

Background on this AU here, for the uninitiated. Basically it's omegaverse, but you can be trans-designation as well as transgender. So Billy is Cis, but he's trans omega to alpha. And Steve is an omega, but transitioning FTM, pretending to be an alpha. There’s a whole munver side to this that of course I’m obsessed with, but let’s stick to the ask. Rated M but no doing it! For now...

Billy swipes at the sweat on his forehead, shuffling down to flop to the floor under the bleachers. He hadn’t wanted to shower after gym, because hormones cost money and it’s not like he’s swimming in it. The Alpha gel mixes with the sweat on his neck and makes him feel grosser than gross, but there’s only one period left before the end of the way.

He digs through his shorts packets for a cigarette when he hears a whimper to his left.

It’s pretty dark under here, just tiny slats of light creating stripes in the darkness. Billy squints anyway, like that might help.

“Hello?” He calls out softly, “Who’s back here?”

Hopefully it’s not Carol and Tommy. Once he walked in on them at a party, and the whiny, needy way Tommy called Carol ‘Alpha’ would haunt Billy’s nightmares forevermore.

The whimpers don’t stop, and if anything when Billy stands and moves towards the sound, they get worse.

“Is someone hurt?” Billy whispers, “Hello?”

His foot brushes up against something soft and he kneels down and touches something soft. Gym towels, it feels like.

“Hello?” Billy reaches forward in the darkness, “Are you okay?”

There’s some shuffling, and then big brown eyes come into view through one of the ribbons of lights, blinking back at him. He’d know them anywhere, though the smell that Billy doesn’t recognize. It tickles at his senses, a strange smell so unlike Harrington that he immediately backs away.

“S-sorry, couldn’t see that you were back here with someone,” Billy mumbles.

“Alpha,” Harrington says, in a strange, cracked voice.

“Uh, yeah man,” Billy turns away swiftly, “Said I was sorry.”

“Alpha, stay,” Harrington whispers.

Billy’s brow furrows, but he keeps walking away, still trying not to make too much noise.

“Billy,” Harrington moans, and the sound seems to echo in his chest.

“Uh,” Billy freezes, “You... hurt or something? You have your rut?”

Billy would help him through it, if it wouldn’t make him feel sick to do it. Billy’s still in the early days of his transition, or at least it feels that way. Hormones swim through his blood in a strange way, half heat, half rut, and he’s horny as hell most of the time. But being Harrington’s omega for now would actually be too much, too much of a funhouse mirror held up to his desires.

And Harrington really was too beautiful for Billy’s own good. Too beautiful to look at head on, he had to stick to glances from across a room. He didn’t know if he wanted the other alpha or if he wanted to be him. Either way, it was too much, overwhelming.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, “Help-”

“I can find a teacher, we can get you home-”

“Need you, alpha. Billy, I need you,” Harrington groans, “Please, stay, please, please.”

Being called alpha sets a warm fire in Billy’s chest that burns so brightly he exhales a little sigh. He’s so elated it takes him a moment to really hear the other words.

“Harrington,” Billy steps forward and nearly jumps when Harrington reaches out and grasps his wrist.

“Heat,” Harrington gasps, “Need you.”

His hand really is burning up. Billy reached out with his other hand, dropping his forgotten cigarettes somewhere in the darkness. He’s drawn to Harrington’s forehead, somewhere above those pleading eyes. Harrington’s on fire, damp with sweat, his hormones are pulsing in the air.

Billy’s body responds so swiftly, almost violently. He cramps low in his stomach, and begins to fill out his shorts, exhaling softly.

“You’re an...”

Harrington shakes his head, “You can’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Are you... transalpha?” Billy whispers. He almost says, ‘like me’ before he remembers himself. His dad would shit himself if the word got out that his kid was transalpha. Male omegas were valuable, and sometimes it was the only thing that ever seemed to bring Billy value to his father. Billy’s walking on a tightrope too, he would understand if Harrington did the same.

Harrington shakes himself again, “Omega. I’m just... trans.”

Billy’s eyes widen. He’s heard of this though. Transgender Men or Women who wear scent patches to pass as alpha, because it’s safer than being a beta or omega. No one would dare fuck with King Steve unless he fucked with them first. It was part of the whole bitchy, alpha package. And Billy’d bought it hook line and sinker.

“I won’t tell,” Billy whispers, “Who can I get to help you? The nurse?”

Someone must know in this godforsaken town.

“Stay with me,” Harrington begs, his scent slamming into Billy’s senses again, and nearly sending him to his knees.

“I... I...” Billy whispers, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do,” Harrington whines, “I do. Really... I... I want you. Please, help me, and I’ll show you.”

“Harrington-” Billy whispers.

Harrington leans up, tugging on Billy’s arm at the same time, and even though Billy’s mind is filled with anxiety, his body goes easily into the arms of his crush. Harrington throws his arms around Billy’s shoulders, heat enveloping them both like a blanket and Billy’s hips jerk of their own volition.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, “I like you, Billy.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Harrington tugs and Billy kneels in the makeshift nest, drawn by instinct and those brown eyes, the warmth of Harrington, hidden here in the dark.

“But I’m not...” Billy swallows, “Not a real alpha yet.”

Harrington leans in, smells at the juncture of Billy’s neck, presses a tiny kiss against Billy’s skin, and it feels like a burn.

“Yes, you are,” Harrington groans, “Fuck, Billy... I like you so much.”

Billy could blame it on the heat. But his resolve crumbles so easily, in his heart of hearts he knows that isn’t true. It’s fucking Harrington, and those pretty brown eyes, and the softness of the way he’s speaking.

“I like you too,” Billy admits, so quietly.

“Then show me, alpha,” Harrington whispers, before he finally presses his lips to Billy’s.

They’re both on fire, bodies twining together, writhing with desire. But the kiss is so soft, tender. It’s like a cool drink of water in the desert, and Billy would drink in every drop Harrington will allow him.

---

@intothedysphoria I hope you like it! Yay unshadowbanned!

#asks #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o harringrove #harringrove #tw omegaverse #omegaverse #such a specific au

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sarah-dipitous · 2 years ago

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 71

Wishful Thinking/The Lazarus Experiment

“Wishful Thinking”

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: why is this looking a lot like the one with the ghost ship? I know it’s not. Ok so no one died…I don’t think???

From the recap—I…it shouldn’t cause so many fluttery heart feelings to hear Cas say they were going to smite an entire town, but here we are…I’m gonna miss this Castiel

Ok but like…who on this show ISN’T at least kind of a dick?? You can’t just say that about the Uriel

Your dedication to the job is heartwarming, Dean…has nothing to do with the fact that the ghost is haunting a women’s shower, I’m sure

Stop. Stop. You can’t just name the fake book you��re ‘writing’ supernatural…

“There’s a Bigfoot out there dammit, and he’s a son of a bitch��

I do not remember this episode AT ALL. Wtf is happening?? I know there’s allegedly a wishing well but what are these people even wishing for??

The fairy tales episode I could handle, but this is WEIRD

I am DYING. So this Bigfoot is apparently this little girl’s teddy bear? And the Winchesters are posing as teddy bear doctors to be able to see it…this is fantastic. Omg omg omg how did I block this out of my memory?? The teddy bear who came to life, became human adult size, and is now despairing at the fact that it’s now gained consciousness…but all Audrey wants to do is have tea parties with him, but he’s DEPRESSED depressed…which the boys are calling “lollipop disease” to placate her and get her to leave for a while

I guess the safest thing is to wish for a sandwich (still got E. coli from it)

That’s… that’s a dark wish, Sam. I mean, I get it, but damn.

I bet the kid who stopped chasing the other kids asked Dean if he had a problem is the first wisher…that’s the only reason I can see for including him so far

THE TEDDY BEAR JUST TRIED TO BLOW ITS BRAINS OUT BUT IT HAS NO BRAIN JUST STUFFING SO IT’S STILL ALIVE

It’s not the engagement, that’s too obvious…oh god, she barely has free will.

Hang on, it IS that guy who wished for the engagement?? Then what’s the deal with the mean looking kid???

Can’t believe they hit the invisible kid with the car and…

Oh, THAT’s the point of the mean looking kid. Give him super strength and make him yell “KNEEL BEFORE TODD!!” because…of course his name is Todd. It’s the perfect name. Dean just tried to “with great power comes great responsibility” him and got hit in the face for it

Hoooooooly shit. Hope just got Sam electrocuted out of nowhere.

Oh. Oh, Todd. Aw, but Dean helping him not be bullied anymore anyway.

Sorry, there’s a lot of moving pieces in this episode

Oh no…Dean DOES remember EVERYTHING from hell, and he thinks there’s no helping him and he just has to live with that and shoulder it all alone. I hate it.

“Been On My Mind…”: Nope. 7.

“The Lazarus Experiment”

God…I both can and can’t believe how quickly he tries to just dump Martha…🙄

Ahhhh!!! Mr Saxon mention again 💖

I love that all moms are suspicious of the Doctor

It’s weird to see non-Mycroft Mark Gatiss

Oh, are there—are there some side effects to extremely literal anti-aging?? Who would have seen that coming

Marthaaaaaaa!!! The Doctor does not deserve you and how clever you are!! Bravo you collecting a DNA sample from Not Mycroft

God, I know his DNA is constantly being rewritten but this hurts to see…I mean, kinda. These two aren’t necessarily good people, but the betrayal she suffers…

I think in my 20s I was annoyed with Martha’s mom being this concerned, and maybe she’s still being a TINY TINY bit overbearing (Martha was only gone 12 hours as far as she knows but still thinks there’s no way for Martha to become a doctor if she doesn’t focus??), but she’s not completely wrong

Man, I wish Tish was as suspicious of weird shit as her mother…

Ok but I wouldn’t trust the guy who shaded the Doctor either!!!

Oh he’s a MONSTER monster. Bug ass — I mean big ass scorpion looking thing with a terribly CGI’d face holy shit (bug ass really came from me not looking as I typed and it was too funny to let go)

The face doesn’t even look like Mark Gatiss either…..

Is this dude working for Mr Saxon?? That’s the only thing I can think as to why he’s so invested in this Doctor smear campaign

Honestly, this part in the cathedral is beautiful and haunting. You can almost feel bad for the guy…

Taking your sweet old time with that organ, aren’t you Doc?

Is he actually dead this time??

I wish Tish could go on just one trip. I think she’d like that

Episodes Since the Doctor’s Last Attempted Genocide: is it 3 now? This was probably a bad segment. I have a hard enough time keeping track of just the regular day number

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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lilsocksiswriting · 2 years ago

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Nightly Visitor

Fandom: Haikyuu

Paring: Incubus!Asahi X Fem!Reader

Summary: you finally meet the Incubus who has been haunting your dreams for nights.

Warnings: Minors DNI, No Beta, Dark content(non/dub-con)

Tags: spells/enchantments, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise kind, creampie

Word Count: 2k

You've been having this reoccurring dream. All you recall from the dream is a voice telling you, "M'sorry, so sorry." and cumming hard. So hard that you sometimes wake up mid-orgasm. The dreams leave you spent. Even though you've been falling asleep early you still wake up drained. It's gotten so bad that you now lay in bed wondering why even bother trying to fall asleep.

You feel the bed dip and God dammit you just want one night of sleep-wait

You bolt upright now more awake than ever. At the end of your bed, there is a man frozen in place like a scared deer caught in the headlight. Though maybe a sheep would be a better comparison as his dark honey-colored horns remind you of one. Those horns that spiral from his soft hair should be what you are most concerned about. They aren't natural but neither is the size of this man's cock.

You had caught him just as he was crawling into your bed; one knee pressing into the mattress and his opposite foot still planted firmly on the ground. Though as soon as you bottled up in bed, he threw his hand up.

"M'sorry! I'm so sorry I-I thought you were already asleep.

You stare at the man in all his naked glory slacked jaw. That was the voice. The one you had been hearing from your dream night after night. This too should be more of a pressing matter than the erection between the man's legs. It curves to the side under its own weight. A bead of clear precum drools from the tip and your eyes follow it down where it makes a dark stain on your duvet. Oh my god, nothing had even happened and the man- what he even human? Looked like he was about to bust.

“What are you?” the question slips from your lip in your stupor. Really how were you so hung up on a dick when there was a naked man with horns in your bedroom?

“My name’s Asahi. I ‘m an incubus; a demon who feeds off of sexual energy,” he supplies then goes back to crawling onto your bed. “And I am so hungry.”

No, you should say no. You should be screaming and pushing the sex demon away, of your bed, out of your house, out of your life he has disrupted with his nightly visits. But Asahi is so much bigger than you. It is so easy for him to push you back down onto the bed while the shock is still fresh in your system. Now that he’s fully on top of you, trapping your waist under his weight and caging you between his arms on either side of you, there is nothing that you can do but plead to the demon to spare you for just one night.

“Pl-please leave me alone. I can’t do this another night.”

“Nonono, you totally can. I know you can. That’s why I keep coming back to you,” Asahi reassures.

Something is happening. As the demon cups your cheek in one of his big hands, he gives you a soft smile. Your mind gets foggy as soon as the warmth from the palm of his hand seeps into your skin. There is a heat that spreads across your body that no matter how much you squirm won’t go away. You hear yourself moan which seems to put the nervous demon at ease.

“See how good you are for me. Falling under my spell so easily like such a good girl.”

There’s this tiny part of you that knows you should be scared but hearing that deep voice call you a good girl makes you want to melt. And you do. You essentially become puddy under the demon’s hands. Asahi peels back your covers. Admires how little that tank top and cotton shorts cover-up. You can only whimper as the demon strips you out of what little clothes you wore to bed. He takes his time with this part of his nightly ritual. He loves the way that his fingers dip into the supple fat of your thigh and how your tits feel squeezed in his hands.

The fog starts to clear from your mind when Asahi’s hands remove themselves from your body momentarily. In this moment of clarity, you try to escape. Flipping yourself over onto your stomach you scramble to crawl away. The demon’s quick to grab your hips and pin them to the bed. Feeling the weeping tip of his cock slide against the small of your back you let out another one of those whimpers that sounds about as close to heaven as Asahi is ever going to get.

“Please don’t try and run from me,” Asahi’s tight voice makes the warming sound more like he’s begging.” That’s just goanna excite me more and I’m trying so hard to go easy on you.”

You can’t seem to think of any sort of reply or retort. Not even another attempt at pleading to the incubus to just leave you alone. With his hands on you once more your mind fogs back up.

Everything feels hot. Your skin, Asahi’s hands as they pull at your hips up so that your ass is up in the air, each breath you take, especially between your legs. That’s where you feel it the worst. Asahi’s form leans over you and even the new proximity feels hot. You think that this is it. He’s going to take you again. He’s going to leave you so fucked out you won’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow morning.

What he does instead is grab one of your pillows and slips it under you. Asahi is a demon but he's a monster. Ok, maybe a little since he has you trapped under him and his spell. You barely have time to register the kind act because in the next moment he is slipping his hand between your thighs and running his fingers along your folds.

You almost sob. You were so wet that the demon has no problem slipping two fingers inside you. You didn't think the unwanted touch would feel so good. Relief and pleasure wash over your body. In the wake of the feeling, you find yourself wanting more. You need more. There’s still some small part of sanity somewhere inside telling you that this isn’t consensual and asking about a condom, but it can’t stop your hips from rocking back against Asahi’s fingers.

“That’s a good girl,” the demon purrs. A delighted moan follows when he feels you squeeze around his fingers.

You look at the duvet clenched in your fists. Ashamed that Asahi doesn't have to do any of the work because you’re fucking yourself on his fingers.

Then Asahi adds another then a fourth, and you've lost. Everything feels too good. You’re too far gone for any common sense to reach you. If this was bad, then why did it feel so good? If it wasn’t consensual then why were you the doing the work?

There's a string of slickness when Asahi pulls his fingers away. He can't have you cumming yet. Asahi needs you to cum on his cock. He's so hungry his mouth is watering as he lines himself up to your empty hole.

Asahi enters you with one swift movement of his hips. Both of you moan. You are so tight, and you can’t understand how he fits so snuggly inside you. You can’t even move your hips anymore because of the grip the incubus has on them, but you so desperately want him to move.

“Please,” you’re begging in a much different tone now, “Need you to move. Please Asahi, I need you to fuck me. Need to cum so bad.”

You can’t see the giddy smile that crosses the demons. This is why he can’t stay away from you. With just a little charm you fall right under his spell with no fight. You may say and act as if you don't want him. But if the hat were really the case, he would have to put in a lot more work to put you under his spell.

Asahi begins thrusting his hips and hisses,” Fuuuck, fuck, you always feel so good around my cock y/n. “

He knows that he won't last long. He never does and that’s fine because you don't either. The energy is already coming off you and waves and it’s so delicious.

You hug the pillow under you and spread your knees more. You can't tell if the moans you hear are from your own mouth or from Asahi’s. All that’s on your mind is the surprise and shock that you're already cumming. Asahi hunches over your body, struggling to keep his rhythm as you wall repeatedly squeeze his cock.

He babbles praise after praise about how good you are to him. He can’t imagine any other human who can milk him like you can. And he can’t get enough of it.

The world blurs and suddenly you are on your back. Asahi’s big hands lift your thighs up and press them to your chest.

“Wait Asahhh~”, you throw your head back.

The incubus wasn't going to give you a break. He doesn't even care how embarrassing the sloppily sounds of his cum being fucked back into you are. Asahi loves everything about you right now. The sloppy sounds your cunt is making when he thrusts back in and how you’re doing such a poor job at hiding your red face. Turing your head and trying to smother it into the comforter while your hands are too busy clingy to the incubus’ shoulders.

“No, “Asahi wines. “Don't hide such a pretty face from me. I know you never remember and that’s ok because I know you love it when to tell you about the pretty faces you make while I’m fucking you. “

And you do. The praise makes you practically melt into the bed. Asahi knows you better than you know yourself. Visiting you nearly every night had made him keenly aware of what made you come undone beneath him. Rolling his hips a certain way. Letting you know how good you are making him feel over and over. He was never good at staying quiet in the first place and you love it when he a moaning mess.

“That’s its y/n, yes~ cum all over my cock. Just like that, so good.” Asahi’s cum spills into your squelching pussy. This time there is so much that you feel leak out down the crack of your ass.

And as much as the incubus would like to sit back and admire the mess, he’s still so hungry. He is definitely a demon because no human can keep going like him or cum as much. At the rate, things are going the demon's going to fuck you raw, and much to your horror you want him to.

“Fuck, your so fucking perfect y/n. Makes me want to keep you forever as my little pet-” Asha gasps when you clench down around him. “Oh, you like that idea?”

Of course, you do, and Asahi knows you do because he fantasizes about it out loud every time, he visits you. This just might be the first time you remember it.

“Put a cute color around you and keep you with me in the demon realm. You’d have nothing to worry about but satiating my hunger. I’d dress you in nothing but pretty and soft lingerie. Occasional share you with my friends Show them how much a of good girl you can be oh Fuck, just like that y/n, keep squeezing me just like. Keep losing yourself in pleasure. So delicious.”

Your head is so muddled and lost. You're faintly aware of the drool dribbling across your cheek. You can’t believe you going to cum again? How many would this make? How long had it been since the last time you orgasmed? Surely not that long. Would you survive these back-to-back orgasms? You can. You have to. If you wanted to be Asahi’s good little pet, you’ll learn how to give him one orgasm after the other. As many as he wants.

The sad truth is that Asahi knows he can never have you. You would never survive in the demon realm. Too many demons would want such a sweet mortal like you. So, he has to be satisfied with coming back to you every night and fucking until his hunger is bearable or you wake up. Or now that you've seen him awake until you pass out.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #asahi #asahi azumane #asahi x reader #privet stacks

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theveryworstthing · 4 years ago

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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

#long post #the addams family #Character Design #au #design challenge #i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person #oh god i forgot the cut lol

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lokislastlove · 3 years ago

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In Memoriam (Dark! Steve, Bucky & Sam x Reader) 2

Summary: After the death of your grandmother you make a trip to visit her old estate, and you discover it may be more trouble than it’s worth.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, ghosts, smut, bondage, thigh riding, spanking, rough sex, oral sex, over stimulation, mentions of death, allusions of abuse. 18+ only peeps, it’s obviously dark.

Notes: well this started as a tiny idea for @charmed-asylum ‘s bingo challenge! (Congrats, love. You’re amazing!) and it kinda spiraled into this craziness. Also there is a surprise guest, but I don’t feel like giving it away so… hope you enjoy! ❤️

Chapter 2:

“You’re out in the woods… alone… in a big haunted house?” Your friend’s voice deadpans through the speaker as you scrape the curling wallpaper.

“It’s not haunted,” you laugh.

“You have already texted me like five times about hearing noises! What do you mean it’s not haunted? Didn’t you just tell me your grandfather died there?”

“Well yeah, but…” you huff.

“Then I rest my case. You should just leave it. Sell it as-is and let the next owner fix it themselves,” she implores.

“Eva, I cant. I miss her… and being here, fixing up this place it just… it feels like the right thing to do,” you sigh, looking around the large once-elegant sitting room.

“I get it,” Eva’s voice softens, “I just wish you weren’t there all by yourself.”

“Maybe I’m not,” you tease, smiling wryly into the phone.

“Ugh, don’t do that! I’m totally going to have nightmares about you being axe murdered by a ghost now,” she groans.

Your laughter echoes through the house, “I promise, I’m fine. Really. I’ll be back in the city for our Sunday brunches before you know it.”

“You better. I miss my weekend girl dates,” she whines.

“Me too,” you admit.

A soft thud sounds from around the corner. Your voice fades as you poke your head around to eye the archway at the end of the hall leading to the spacious kitchen.

“Everything okay?” Eva says after a minute.

“Yeah,” you answer distantly. “I’ll call you later, okay? Have a fun time with DJ guy.”

“Adam,” she corrects, you can practically hear her eyes roll which makes you smirk. “Just be careful ok? Don’t do anything stupid. And if you see a spooky shadow or something, just do me a favor and don’t follow it.”

“It’s not haunted,” you laugh. “Bye, love you.”

“Love you,” she returns.

You hang up and shake your head at her neuroticism. Sure the place isn’t exactly fit for a party, but after four days of cleaning you have to admit it’s not a total lost cause. On day two you dug out the tools from the shed and found a local hardware store in the town about half hour away. Since then, you’ve made good progress on the minor repairs and dusting. So much dusting.

You peel off the strips of paper and set down the putty knife before standing up. Brushing off your dirtied jeans, you tip toe down the hall and peek into the kitchen, readying yourself to scare away another mouse.

It’s not that your afraid of the animals, you just don’t like when they surprise you. This is hardly the first time you’ve encountered rodents, in fact you’d argue its to be expected when you make a living in restoring old houses. So you would think you’d be used to it by now.

The kitchen is empty, but your curiosity compels you to continue searching, certain the noise came from in here. Another thud makes you jump and spin on your heel as you look at the glass door of the butlers pantry. You swallow and steel your nerves as you near the door to slowly push it open.

Two bags of your favorite coffee lay on the ground, one busted open, scattering dark beans all over the tile floor. The single window over the counter is open, the panel swaying slightly in the afternoon breeze.

With a heavy sigh you bend to pick up the coffee, shoveling the spilt beans back into the bag and setting them back up on the counter before closing the window with a snap. Movement catches your eye outside and you pause to squint through the tinted glass.

You gasp at the figure of a man walking around your property and rush out of the pantry. You grab the crowbar from the foyer and head for the back patio doors. The patio is empty, so you descend the mossy steps intent on walking the perimeter just to be sure. You scan the tree line, tension growing with every step and you grip the iron bar tighter in your hands.

“Hello?” calls a man’s voice as you round the front of the house.

Your chest tightens and you hold up the crow bar until you spot him on the front porch. He quickly raises his hands non-threateningly. You lower your hands slightly, but not entirely as you recognize the handsome stranger from the gas station.

“Woah, woah, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he smiles and backs away from the front door, that gap tooth grin putting you at ease.

“What are you doing here?” You demand, still wary.

“My buddies and I are staying not far from here. We saw you pull off the highway the other day and … I don’t know I guess I got bored and decided to be neighborly.”

Your brow furrows a bit at his vague answer, but his voice and easy smile charm you. You lower the bar and he drops his hands with a relieved sigh.

“Sorry, just wasn’t expecting company out here,” you apologize but keep your distance.

“I get it,” he nods. “Can’t be too careful, I respect that.”

You eye him as you cross your arms and he slowly descends the porch steps, walking closer but not too close.

“Well, I’d invite you in but it’s a mess in there.”

He looks up at the old Victorian covered in vines, “it’s a beautiful property. You fixing it up?”

“It was my grandmas. No one has lived in it for quite a while. It needs a lot of work, I’m just trying to figure out how much I can do on my own before I call in my contractor.”

“So you gonna keep it? Or just flipping it?”

You pause at the question, you had never thought about keeping it, but the longer you stay the more connection you start to feel to the place. It’s a bond you’re not sure how to feel about, to be honest.

“I guess we’ll find out,” you shrug.

“Sounds like quite a project. You must be quite the worker bee,” he smirks before recognizing the tension in the air, and likely the mild impatience on your face, “well, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime. Good luck with the house.”

He gives you a wave before turning and walking back along the driveway, his sneakers splattered in mud as he fails to evade one of the larger puddles. He doesn’t strike you as the woodsman type, too outgoing and neat, and in need of a pair of good hiking boots. As he disappears around the bend, you chew your lip and ponder over the odd interaction. He seems likable enough, but there’s something about him that bothers you.

—

“Hey, it’s me… your sister. The one you sent off to fix the big old house in the middle of nowhere by herself,” you lilt sardonically into the phone. “Look, I know you have your own stuff going on, but I could really use your help here. I mean, it’s not a total disaster, but it sure would go a lot faster with some help.”

You sigh, and fall back onto the bed with the phone to your ear, “I found our old nursery. Its so weird, like walking into a dream or something. I spent most of the day going through old boxes. Pretty sure grandma kept every single picture we ever made – all filed away as if they were something to treasure…” you smile as you picture her face. “I miss her and I just wish you could be here.”

You frown as a drop of moisture wets your cheek, “just call me back, okay?”

You wipe away the drop and another drips onto your finger, making you look up curiously. You spot the start of a water stain on the ceiling and curse in defeat. With a huff you get to your feet and make your way to the door down the hall.

You tap on your flashlight and open the door to the third floor attic space. Carefully you climb the dark narrow stair case and peek around the cold room filled with even more dust and junk. You hear the familiar whine of wind whipping past a cracked window and follow it, maneuvering through piles of old furniture and boxes.

The window along the east wall, above the nursery is broken, one of the bottom panels shattered, allowing the rain to pool on the floor when the wind blows just right.

“Dammit,” you grumble and snag an old rug rolled up nearby to lay over the puddle.

After a quick trip to your supply stash downstairs you manage to patch the broken square with some thick plastic sheeting and duct tape. A temporary fix until you can get a new glass panel. Another task to add to the to-do list.

A soft shuffling echoes from somewhere across the room and you freeze in your tracks. You hold your breath, waiting. The noise starts again, like something dragging slowly across the floor, but you see nothing moving. You let out your breath slowly and hold up your phone as you bend to grab a forgotten table lamp. Raising it to your eye, ready to strike, you take a hesitant step forward.

You breathe heavily through your nose, heart thundering in your chest as you get closer to the noise. It’s coming from the other side of the antique standing mirror and you brace yourself as you jump behind it, yelling as you swing the lamp in front of you. It swishes through the air as your nervous bellow drifts off in the silence of the attic and you realize there’s nothing there.

You feel like an idiot as you frantically search the corner of the dark room. Scolding yourself, you turn to leave when your foot hits something. A small cardboard box lies at your feet with your name on it, written hastily in black marker. The drag marks through the dusty floor behind the box make your stomach twist in apprehension.

You swallow thickly, scanning your surroundings one more time before quickly bending to swap the lamp for the box. Without a second thought you rush for the stairs nearby and retreat back to the nursery where you have been staying, sure to close the door tightly behind you.

Your heart pounds anxiously as you toss the box on the bed, pacing while you stare at it and chew your lip, unsure if you should open it.

“Oh this is ridiculous,” you exclaim and grab the box cutter from your tool kit.

You flick the flaps open to find a stack of old journals and sketch pads, all well worn and filled with messy children’s drawings. You can’t help but laugh as you open up a familiar hello kitty journal covered in barely legible writing, the slanted letters sparkling in rainbow colored gel pens.

“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about these,” you say to yourself, cherishing the nostalgia each item brings.

The wind howls outside, the rain thudding loudly against the window panes. You hear another mysterious creak and groan from somewhere outside the room, eyes instinctually flicking to the door. You ignore it, slowly accepting it as one of the quirks of the old house as you continue sifting through the box.

Your brow furrows when you come across a series of drawings. A stick figure little girl with a taller stick figure boy happily playing together outside a crudely drawn impression of your grandmothers mansion. You pull out your phone with a smile to take a picture to send to your brother, but you stop when you notice the names scrawled under each. You are most certainly the girl in the drawing, the label assures you of that, but the boys name is not your brothers.

Tagging: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen @queenoftheworldisdead @threeminutesoflife @buttercupfangirl @needleandhammer @thiskindahotkindamusic @lokiswildheartcantbebroken @emberenchanted @patzammit @maluisamarvelfan123 @melmarinez7079 @cjand10

#dark fic #In Memoriam #dark Steve rogers #dark Steve rogers x reader #dark Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark sam wilson #dark Sam Wilson x reader #MCU #ghost AU

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mothwithapencil · 2 years ago

Note

Hi can I just ask for some Ghetsis positivity because I’m sick of everyone around me slandering him

Sorry this is a little late but YES. YES YOU CAN. Big post incoming.

Listen. People hate Ghetsis for completely valid reasons. But people like him, even relate to him, for completely valid reasons too. And I'm sick of people shitting all over Ghetsis and people who like him all the time, even when it's completely uncalled for. I'm sick of having to be "humble" and apologize for liking Ghetsis when introducing myself to people, lest they think I kick puppies and throw babies off cliffs for fun or something. Sick of scrolling his tag and seeing people calling him horrible things or, even worse, targeting his disabilities (physical and mental). Sick of people legitimately claiming he's homophobic, transphobic, even racist just because they don't like him. You do see how that's harmful to people in those groups who like him right. Furthermore, I have the type of RSD where if someone doesn't like a character I like I feel hurt myself. So you can imagine how hellish it is out there. I can't imagine how bad it is for systems with Ghetsis introjects. So for all the completely normal people bearing the curse of simply enjoying a character:

Ghetsis likers! You're valid!

Ghetsis is a very complex, layered character! There's lots to like about him! He's pretty, he's funny, he's tragic, he's a depressed middle aged man.... The list goes on! There's also many valid reasons to relate to him! Ghetsis is implied to have several mental illnesses/disorders/etc that aren't often seen, especially not in a Pokemon game. He's paranoid, he has PTSD, NPD, body dysmorphia, he even shows autistic+adhd traits. He's also a cane user and is popularly interpreted as being an amputee/prosthetic user and having chronic pain from the injuries on his eye/arm/leg/etc. Although him being a villain doesn't do much for "good representation," it's okay for you to see yourself in him! I relate to him for his paranoia, PTSD, and autistic/adhd traits, and that's okay! And some may ask "But N is autistic and likely has PTSD too, why not relate to him instead?" Some may relate to him too! You're allowed to like both of them! Ghetsis and N likers aren't mortal enemies, we're not that different! But not everyone can just choose which characters they attach to. And some may relate to Ghetsis more for a variety of reasons. Ghetsis has a slower, more rough process of healing that may appeal more to some people. You're not obligated to relate to one character over another because the first one isn't a "good guy."

Even if you don't particularly relate to him, you can enjoy him just for the sake of liking him! Some reasons I just think he's a fun character:

His silly "mya-ha-ha-ha!" laugh!!!

The fact that he tries to look intimidating and scary only to call the player in USUM "tiny intruder"

Gee N, your dad is gnc AF!

This picture.

"That blasted Colress! How dare he put his personal intellectual curiosity before our ultimate mission of conquering Unova!" *proceeds to continue spoiling Colress rotten and not doing a single thing to stop him from putting off his work*

The fact that he does so much to make himself seem emotionless but is still clearly very emotional. There's lots of things that confuse and scare him!

His passion! His love for Unovan history and public speaking! (even if he's not the best at delivering them without pacing around and stuttering and trailing off...) (#autism)

His terrible fashion sense. He looks like he fell through a window and got caught on the tapestry. His unexplained love for eye motifs. Me too.

The sheer fact he's such a layered character. There's a lot about Ghetsis that's never directly stated in the games, and much to be picked up from subtle implications. His history as a descendant of fhe Ancient King, his several traumatic life experiences (two separate pokemon attacks, and of course the "memory that has continued to haunt [him]," etc.

His incredibly silly dynamic with Colress. According to pokespe and the RR episode, they've known each other for years, much longer than one would think initially. Trying not to steer too much into antigrav territory, their friendship is unique and funny. They're best friends. They threaten to feed each other to Kyurem daily. As long as they don't get caught, they plan on conquering Unova together. Colress annoys Ghetsis on purpose and Ghetsis responds with ranting about him in private but still raising his paycheck. Chaos duo.

This post is already so long, and I could say more, but to top it off I want to say:

Ghetsis likers who hate N and N likers who hate Ghetsis are the weakest link. As I said earlier, we can enjoy both! Ghetsis enjoyers and N-joyers, we have a lot in common! We both love a very clearly autistic guy with lots of trauma and pretty long hair! It's not a stretch to assume most of us have some parental issues we're coping with by attaching to them! Furthermore, you don't have to "avenge" N by violently hatimg Ghetsis. N still loves his dad, and even if he doesn't have to, he still wants Ghetsis to heal and get better (Cue to... Everything he says to Ghetsis, and even his line when teamed up with him in Pokemas: "I still have hope for you, Ghetsis..."). If he saw the things some of you say about his dad, he'd be horrified. I promise you, saying you want to kick out Ghetsis' cane and take out his other eye just makes you ableist, not a soldier fighting for N's honor. People who like either character aren't at war with each other! I love my N-joyer friends! We can coexist.... Harmonia enjoyers holding hands and singing in a circle...

That's about it! Sorry I'm so passionate about this, I've just seen a ton of hate on Ghetsis lately and I want to combat it. By the way, feel free to send me an ask about any of the stuff I mentioned here!

Please don't interact with this post if you're going to say some mean shit about Ghetsis/his fans or say "he's not actually autistic/disabled etc" "I hate him but..." "You still shouldn't like him because xyz". Please just let this be a happy space for us!!!!

#ask #ableism mention #pokemon #pkmn #pokemon black and white #pokemon bw #pokemon bw2 #pokemon black and white 2 #team plasma #ghetsis #n harmonia

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etherealeeknow · 4 years ago

Text

the fwb rules

• rated m for mature

• pairing: fwb!hyunjin x fem!reader

• wc: 4.559

• tw: explicit language, light characterization of an insecure reader, unprotected piv sex (stay safe, lovelies!), fingering & oral (f), nipple play, cream pie— i think that’s all, please do tell me if you find more c:

• note: last time i said long fic isn’t my forte and this time i’ll still say the same hahahahaha. but still, i hope i don’t disappoint 🥺 please kindly note that english isn’t my first language. therefore, i apologize for any mistakes. feedbacks are always appreciated because i’d love to grow! thank you for waiting and enjoy 💞 pretty banner made by my bestie!! ilysm 😽😽😽

• tag list: @charlieshelves @es-kay-zee @formidxble @oh-my-sparkle @bobateastay @http-hyxnjxn @lyralurexrattle @hyunsluvv @healinghyunjin @sailorhyunjinz

—

what happened to the rules?

it didn’t start off like this. you can’t remember when exactly you started wondering about the five word question. all you know is that you were one bite away from gobbling a spoonful of jisung’s ice cream when it struck you: since when did you and hyunjin stop going by the rules? he’s been occasionally texting you out of the blue lately just to know what you’re up to, and today he even asked you to stay the night at his, and as much as you want to believe they’re all normal, again, it didn’t start off like this. from the beginning, you and hyunjin have come up with three rules so your relationship can work: one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking. but look at you now, lying naked and out of breath under his blanket while facing his ceiling, driving yourself insane over the haunted question. you have to get it off your chest somehow, but how?

“hey, why so serious?” asks the culprit behind your overthinking, causing you to jump slightly over his sudden appearance and your hands instinctively pull up the blanket to cover your naked chest, which as a result, makes him chuckle. cute. “here. it’s my cousin’s,” adds the topless man as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands you a white shirt that even under the dim light, you can already tell won’t fit you.

“your cousin? the model? hyunjin, she’s tiny,” you utter, hands still gripping onto the blanket. “i’m—“

“you,” he cuts you off, placing a hand on top of yours while carefully glancing at you to make sure you there aren’t any signs of discomfort. “are fine, y/n. now hurry up. i’m sleepy,” he adds before letting go, leaving behind a lingering warmth on your knuckles.

nodding, you turn your back on him to change, and the room falls silent, causing you to hear how fast your heart is thumping even more than it should have. is it because you had too much coffee this morning? or it can probably be because the shirt is too tight that it’s cutting off your air circulation, right? right, of course. you tell yourself because as much as you dislike both reasons, they are still far better than having hyunjin as the cause.

once you’re done, hyunjin already has his back lying against the bedhead, his head tilting slightly to the side, avoiding the light coming from the night lamp on the bedside table, while his eyes bore deeply into yours. unbothered that he’s been caught staring, he averts his gaze downwards till they reach your chest and spot how your nipples are sticking out through the thin fabric.

“see? it fits you just fine,” he says, turning his vision back to your face as he opens his arms and motions them at you, only to have you remain in the same position with your increasing heartbeat.

“aren’t you gonna, uh, wear something?”

instead of a proper answer, all you get is his laugh—hyunjin’s contagious laugh that usually always succeeds in making you laugh too. but today hits differently. has his laugh always sounded this lighthearted before? no matter what the answer is, one thing for sure is that despite how sweet hwang hyunjin and his laugh are, they have never made your cheeks burn like this before, and this is forbidden. it’s against the rules.

“an hour ago we were naked while sucking each other’s face, y/n,” he finally answers after a while. “besides, i always sleep like this. now, come on,” he adds, repeating the same gesture, except this time his hands are open wider, eager to have you near him again because the space around him is starting to make him feel lonely.

complying with him, you fall into his embrace and hyunjin immediately lets his hands travel to the exact places of where they want to be—one around your head and the other around your waist. despite the room turning less cold with his warmth directly passing onto you, your heart and cheeks conditions remain the same especially since you can hear how hyunjin’s heartbeats are beating just as fast as yours when he lets you lay your head on his chest.

“hyunjin,” you call out, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt.

“y/n,” he replies, replacing the collar with his fingers instead, intertwining them with yours.

what happened to the rules?

“do... do fwb do these?” you ask, the bravery in you finally decide to show up, even just for a little.

“do this?” he asks back while squeezing your hand with all his might, as if he’s nervous.

no. not ‘this’, but ‘these’. not only the hand grabbing, but also the fact that he asked you to stay the night, that he’s cuddling you to sleep, and that you’ve been getting unusual symptoms over them until this very moment.

“yes, this,” you nod and hyunjin becomes muted, but his heartbeats are growing louder, and his grip on you has become tighter.

after what feels like forever, he whispers, voice slightly cracking, and hands getting a little colder, “yes. yes, they do.”

then the two of you become muted, but both heartbeats keep growing louder, and everything stays that way until sleep eventually takes over.

—

as a homebody, you’ve always against the idea of sleepovers. you believe home is the sweetest place and your own bed is the comfiest even when your mattress is older than a decade and your favorite plushie has had too many holes here and there. but waking up in hyunjin’s bed has broken your stigma—never in your whole life that you’d have thought someone else’s bed can provide you twice the comfort.

“looks like someone had a good sleep,” chirps jisung as he sits beside you, causing you to wipe off the smile on your face before going back to your laptop.

“wow suddenly my best friend’s a psychic?”

“hey, that’d actually make a great drama title!” he exclaims and you roll your eyes. “please do spill the tea though. what happened?” he adds.

“what happened?” you ask back, eyes still on the screen, but the corner of your lips are on the verge of breaking into the smile, knowing full well he’ll complain—which he does by lamely calling you a meanie.

laughing, you tell him nothing happened, but the way he rolls his eyes is a sign he’s not taking any of your bullshit. you are telling the truth though. besides spending the night with each other, nothing really happened, right? it was just another casual fucking session. yes, it was amazing, but that’s no news for jisung. the guy’s practically your wingman—setting you up with hyunjin was his idea because he believes you should, “live your life. have that dreamy college sex orelse you’ll regret it like my old man changbin!”

right on cue, a notification popped out on your big screen, and the sender’s name makes your heart pop too.

“aha, see!” jisung points at it. “y/n, where are you?” he reads out loud, earning yourselves all the eyes from every other student in class.

“oh my god, jisung. shut up!” right when you’re about to log out from the chat app, hyunjin sends another one.

“can i call you?” jisung reads once more and you’re only one second away from smacking his head, but your vibrating phone holds you back.

shooting jisung a glare, you make sure to close your laptop before leaving the class, answering hyunjin’s call even when you’re still half way through the door. right when you’re about to greet him hello, hyunjin beats you to it—his voice a bit raspy, but the softness in his tone still lies within, and it creates endless questions in your mind.

has he just woken up? so is this how he sounds in the morning? why is he calling?

and the list goes on because this isn’t like hyunjin at all. sure, he’s not validating the rules, but he’s breaking his character despite already alarming you to anticipate morning booty calls from him at times. he’s never actually done that though.

“hi,” you reply, startling yourself with how small your voice came out.

“you left,” says hyunjin and you can hear him sighing from the other line, which somehow causes a slight pang in your heart, wondering if perhaps he is disappointed. “can you come back? wait, actually, let me go to you instead.” he says and you can hear the rustling sounds coming from his side.

“hyunjin, i have class. that’s why i left. i—” should you apologize? but why should you? casual, no strings attached, and no fucks given, remember? “i’m sorry.”

“oh.” hyunjin stops on his track before plopping back down onto the bed, smiling. “i’ll pick you up after class then. when will you finish?”

unconsciously, a smile creeps up your face too, but the realization hits you right after, then followed by the five word question, and you know—you know this is your guts telling you that now’s the time to ask him about it, but your heart hates confrontation. plus, wouldn’t it be rude to reply to someone else’s question with a question? “hyunjin, are you, uh, horny?”

just like yesterday, hyunjin laughs, and with the raspiness in his voice still present, he doesn’t fail to make you laugh along, but at the same time waking the butterflies in your stomach and makes you rethink your decision. mayhaps, you should’ve left him a note or told him that you’ll leave early in the morning; or even, you should’ve ditched classes today and stayed so when he wakes up, you can get him a glass of water, not leaving the boy uncared for like this. but who are you to do so?

“isn’t it normal for a guy to have a morning wood?” he jokes before quickly adding that he’s not horny. “i just want to see you so let me go get you.”

pressing your lips together, you contemplate on whether you should let him. if you do, won’t you be turning whatever the two of you have right now into something far more complicated? but it’s only until hyunjin adds a desperate “please?” that all of your dilemma disappears, as if you’re being cast into his spell—“okay.”

—

while heading to the gate, you have the biggest urge to book a massage appointment. dodging jisung’s questions and running away from him after the first period was draining, but having to spend the day running back and forth between two buildings because thinking that volunteering as the lecturers’ teaching assistant was draining on a whole new level. other than feeling like your legs are gonna come off, your mind also feels like it’s gonna blow off—you can’t stop recalling all the things you need to start working on as soon as possible, but stepping into hyunjin’s car turns everything to 180 degrees.

you’d like to think that it’s because of the faint lavender aroma coming from his car freshener along with the heavenly cool air conditioner, but no. you know full well it’s because of the way hyunjin’s smile lit up, his eyes disappear into two small crescent moons, and his blonde hair which is becoming one with the warm orange sky that brings peace to your heart.

“hi,” he breathes out the moment you close the door, and you do the same except for looking at him, which causes hyunjin to furrow his eyebrows while speeding away.

the way home is silent, just the way you like it, but you know full well that it’s not hyunjin’s cup of tea. he doesn’t need to say it, his action is showing it all as he’s been fidgeting non stop, wiping his sweaty palm along his jeans while occasionally licking his plump lips. hyunjin’s a very vocal person. he’s talkative and loud—including in bed. you press your warm cheeks over the realization of your own thoughts, embarrassed. you can’t possibly suspect hyunjin for being horny in the morning when you yourself are being like this in the afternoon. it’s uncalled for.

noticing you from the corner of his eye, hyunjin calls out, asking you if there’s anything wrong, totally catching you off guard. what should you say? lying is not your forte, but being honest clearly isn’t the best option right now, at least, not before you shower and appear presentable in front of him—but wait, since when did that matter so much? a few months ago, you even fucked after you ran a marathon.

“y/n?” calls hyunjin for the second time.

“look, hyunjin, really, it’s okay if you’re horny. you can pull over and i can, uh, relieve you and i can just take the bus home after,” you spit out shamelessly while looking at him straight in the eyes, eager to get far away from hyunjin as fast as possible before you go out of your mind.

just like the night before, hyunjin laughs. and just like the night before, his laugh hits differently and it does nothing other than burning your already burnt cheeks for the worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, i’m not horny. i genuinely want to take you home. nothing more,” explains hyunjin, head straight at the road but eyes repeatedly stealing glances at you. “and nothing less,” he adds, voice barely audible but you caught it.

“o— oh.” is all you manage to respond before the ride quickly turns quiet and hyunjin’s hands begin fidgeting again, all the while you’re trying to decode what he has just said—what does he mean by genuinely wanting to take you home? do fwb do this too? what happened to no fucks given?—and it goes on until hyunjin hits the break in front of your old apartment building.

“we’re here,” says hyunjin, breaking the silence by unlocking the car door.

“we’re here,” you repeat after him, already opening the door and setting a foot out. “uh, thank you.”

“don’t mention it.” hyunjin shoots you his signature smile the moment you lower yourself to meet his eye level from outside the car; this time, you have no choice but to fall under his spell.

“hey, uh, you wanna come in?” you ask, biting your lower lip as a way to punish yourself for being so indecisive. one second you want to run away from him and the next second you want to be near him. come on, get a grip.

as if the punishment isn’t enough, hyunjin declines your offer, all while chuckling with his head thrown back. “for the third time, y/n. i’m not horny. go in and rest up.”

“if you say so.” you shrug, giving him a small smile before turning around, making sure not to look back, only to fail when you hear the engine driving away.

—

you can’t quite tell—no, you can’t tell. you don’t get it. there’s an unexplainable empty space in your heart that is caused by hyunjin’s rejection. is it because you’re just not used to see him without having to fuck him? or is it because you’re hurt over the fact that he’s not in the mood to touch you? is it because of last night? is he finally sick of your flaws? things would probably be different if you had retouched your makeup or at least combed your hair before seeing him, would they? either way, you’re fully aware you shouldn’t be torn over your friend with benefits, yet your aching heart says otherwise.

and so when the doorbell rings only a few seconds after you get in and the figure you see through the peephole is no other than the man in question, you spare no time to swing the door open. hyunjin, in return, spares no time to lock his lips with yours right after he utters a brief apology. just like the way hyunjin sneaks his playful hands down your ass, you sneak your tongue in his mouth, and your action makes him smile into the kiss as he leads you back into the room and kicks the door shut with his long legs.

the way to your bedroom is actually pretty short, but with your tongues moving in sync, bodies pressing—glued, even, and eyes continuously closing in pleasure, the short way to your bedroom consists of endless stumbling, tripping, and bumping the door. once inside, you break the kiss and are about to undress yourself when hyunjin beats you to it, settling you down on the bed as he begins taking off your attire one by one ever so effortlessly. and in just a matter of seconds, his lips are back on yours again, floral scented hair falling and brushing against your cheeks, leaving you no time to wonder over the fact that it’s the first time hyunjin has ever undressed you.

as the kiss continues, you can feel yourself gushing more and more that you start grinding on him mindlessly, needing to feel more than just his bulge poking you. your hands leave his blonde strands to tug on his hoodie, only to have him stop you—one hand around your grip and the other rests on your hip.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

“need you. need to feel you,” you mumble, desperation so visible through your cracked voice.

“what happened to the girl who was all flustered to sleep with me last night just because i was shirtless?”

autumn nights aren’t supposed to be hot, but hyunjin has proven he has the power to make the impossible happen just with his words and mocking smirk. but the rising heat on your cheeks is nothing compared to the emptiness you feel below, clenching around nothing surely isn’t the best feeling.

“please, jinnie,” you whine, tugging on his hoodie once more, hips moving against his hold.

“fuck.” is all he manages to say before getting off the bed to disrobe himself—hoodie and track pants thrown across the room, now showcasing his toned body and thighs altogether as he hovers over you.

“please take this off too. it looks suffocating,” you say, index finger running faintly through the bulge forming from his tight boxer, making it stand up even more and hyunjin has no choice but to obey you. “put your hair up too please,” you add just when he’s about to dive right back in, and again, your wish is his command.

biting to pull off his hair tie from his wrist, hyunjin smoothly ties his hair back and you’re only given a few seconds to admire his feature before his plump lips coming in contact with your hardened nipple while he toys with the other using his fingers—rubbing and pinching, making your breath hitch over the sensation, fingers digging into his bare shoulders because you don’t want to mess up his hair, and hyunjin’s low grunts pretty much indicate he’s loving it.

“more, please. give me m—”

hyunjin retreats his hand and tongue away from your breast, moving them to your naked pussy, drawing circles on your outer labia with his middle finger. he teases you just enough and quickly slides in his digit and at the same time sucks on your clit right before you’re about to complain, making you tingle from head to toe.

“you hear that?” he asks, voice muffled, the effect of being too tongue tied from licking every part of your heat, but finger working its magic perfectly, creating loud wet noises from your fluid. “drenched. my pretty y/n is drenched,” says hyunjin, and as much as you want to comment on him for the pet name, you’re too caught up on how his lips vibrate against you the moment he starts palming himself with his unoccupied hand. if he keeps it up, you know you would come undone there and then, and you don’t want that—not yet. so you ask him to stop and he instantly does as told.

“what’s wrong? did i hurt you?” there’s fear written across his expression and heard from his tone, but you’d like to believe your eyes and lips are just playing tricks on you.

“n— no. i just,” you pause to avoid his gazes, but something within you pulls your attention back on him. “i wanna cum with you inside me,” you confess, voice barely audible due to embarrassment; all this time, it’s always been hyunjin to say such things, but perhaps, all the strange tension lately has finally gotten the best of you. you hear him mutter a low “fuck” while his pupils shakes for a brief moment before they somehow appear a shade darker. licking his lower lip, hyunjin pulls you by your legs and rests them on his shoulders, and proceeds to align his tip with your entrance, once again teasing your throbbing core.

the moment you whine is the moment hyunjin pushes himself inside ever so gently, but the stretching still has you throwing your head back, while hyunjin letting our airy moans upon your walls clenching around him. none of you can tell how it’s possible for your vagina to remain so tight after all the countless fucking session for the past half year, but hyunjin doesn’t find that troubling. in fact, he lives for that and it shows from the way his eyes roll to the back of his head as he begins thrusting in and out of you—slowly but steady, veiny hands secured on your hips, vision goes back and forth from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.

hyunjin leans down to kiss you for a couple of seconds, and when he lets go, he quickens his pace—leaning down once more so his length can go deeper in you, hitting your g-spot. at that very moment, you mentally praise yourself for placing the bedroom mirror right across the bed. it presents you with the magnificent view of hyunjin’s rounded, firm ass bouncing rhythmically whenever he snaps his hips, and placing your hands around them, squeezing them, nearly makes you drool over the sight. with hyunjin constant thrusts, the familiar knot in your abdomen starts to bubble up.

“oh my god,” the two of you whimper in unison as hyunjin begins to lose his tempo, moves also grow sloppy, but never once misses your spot.

“y/n, i— ah— i’m so close. fuck,” he breathes out, sweat forming on his forehead, wetting his baby hair down to his neck and chest, and you can only drool helplessly at the sight.

“me too. please cum inside me, cum with me, hyunjin, please, please,” you beg, voice a pitch higher, almost sounds like you strain your throat, and it stays the same. when you feel hyunjin twitch inside you, your hands automatically reach for the bed sheet again, but it only lasts for a second before they’re being taken by hyunjin’s own hands—he has never done this. while intertwining your fingers, his cock twitches again and his eyes roll to the back of his head, jaw falls open as he calls out your name—you naturally do the same, fingers pressing flat against his white knuckles

“hyu—”

“cum, baby,” he cuts you off, averting his hazy eyes on you, and that’s all it takes for you to break—your orgasm washes over you like waves and you cum undone around hyunjin, shaking and mewling altogether while feel the wet coldness around your inner thigh. hyunjin follows right after, shooting his hot cement inside of you; the man can no longer keep his eyes open as he buries his face on the crook of your neck, his choked moans bring music right to your ear all a while his hot breaths bring goosebumps to your unrecovered body.

after riding out your highs, none of you move. hyunjin stays on top of you, his chest rises and falls according to your hard breathing. somehow, it’s calming you down, but it shouldn’t.

“hyunjin, you’re heavy.”

“oh, sorry,” he chuckles and even without looking, you can tell his eyes are smiling too. with his remaining strength, hyunjin pushes himself up and rests on your thighs to pull his dick out of you, momentarily admiring the mixture of his juice and yours dripping down your cunt before fixing his eyes on you to study your face—also something he has never done before.

“i’m sorry,” he mutters a few moments later, eyes now on you.

tilting your head, you sit up, resting your upper body with your hands on the bed. “all of a sudden? i came? you always make me feel good.”

“that’s what i’m sorry about. i— i didn’t mean to— i mean, i—”

you reach out to him, gently patting his thigh. “hyunjin, calm down. this isn’t like you,” you whisper the last sentence, knowing that perhaps, now’s the time to talk things out, to stop whatever is going on, and go back to how things are used to be, maybe? your heart’s just been restless for too long and apparently, hyunjin seems to be in a similar situation too.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to keep using you like this. i genuinely meant what i said. i only wanted to take you home, but we ended up here and—”

“isn’t that what fwb do?” you pull your hand off his thigh, and a frown painted across his face as if he’s questioning your question. “that’s what we agreed on. we have our fwb rules, remember?”

“one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking,” says hyunjin, proving he has memorized every words to the back of his mind.

nodding, you carefully bring back your hand to his thigh, repeating the same movement you did before. “exactly. so you don’t have to be sorry. don’t worry, i’m not feeling used at all.” you end it with a smile.

hyunjin mirrors you, he smiles too; his eyes fall to where your hand is. “but what if i’m breaking them? the rules,” asks the boy whose cold hand is now on top of your warm one. “what if i like you?” his eyes find their way back to you, and that’s when you know. the difference between your temperatures; the difference between your smile and his—the sadness that lies within.

that’s when you understand. everything finally makes sense; every one of hyunjin’s unusual acts. the constant texts and calls, the undressing, the pet names, the facial expression, the hand holding.

what happened to the rules? feelings. that’s what happened. to hyunjin, it’s his feelings over the rules.

but you, what about you? the butterflies, the irregular increasing heartbeats, the flushing cheeks, the overthinking, the disappointment at some point.

“y/n,” hyunjin calls out and you don’t get to get back to him because he’s already an inch away from you, momentarily eyeing your lips before he closes the distance. once again, his blonde hair falls down, brushing against his cheek before meeting yours and it tickles you, but not in the same way as how his kiss tickles your heart; giddy.

what happened to the rules? unwanted feelings. that’s what happened. to you, it’s the unwanted feelings against the rules. and for now, the unwanted feelings are too strong for you to push him away, so you pull him close instead. for now.

—

gen’s masterlist

repeating this!! special note: HUGE THANK YOU for my awesome bestie for the banner 🥺💞💞 ily, bish!! thank you for being my beta reader too 😽😽😽

#gen writes #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin hard thoughts #hyunjin hard hours #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #hyunjin fic #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagine #stray kids fic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagine #hyunjin imagines #kpop smut #kpop fic

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fantastic-bby · 4 years ago

Text

SKZ as animal hybrid boyfriends

Pairing: Reader x Members

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Fluff | Headcanon | Animal Hybrid/Shifter AU | Boyfriend AU

Warnings: Very brief mention of spiders

Masterlist

Chan

A husky hybrid

Has the CUTEST pair of gray and white ears that stick out of the top of his head

Also has the most gorgeous pair of pale blue eyes that glow in the dark

He has a fluffy white tail that wags like crazy whenever he’s excited because he doesn’t know how to stop it from showing

He’s also the sweetest boyfriend in. The. WORLD!

Always asks how you’re doing

Makes sure your not missing any meals and that you’re always hydrated

Every morning, he wakes you up with cute good morning texts and he always tries to send you good night texts sometimes forgets because he gets so caught up in work

He makes up for it tho

Sends flowers to your place whenever he forgets uwu

Chan’s the perfect boyfriend

The only problem is that you’re allergic to dogs

He didn’t realise why you always seemed to sneezy and stuffy whenever you would come over to his place

Until you told him

And his reaction makes you feel like you just told him the most horrific thing in the world

To him it is!!!!

Because he’s the reason that you’ve been having allergic reactions around him!!

He starts vacuuming his place more often to keep any fur away and makes sure to keep the area super clean so that you’re clear from anything that could cause a reaction

He also starts lint rolling and vacuuming his clothes before giving them to you so that you don’t take any of his fur home unless you ask him to leave his fur

Chan gets confused whenever you tell him that you don’t want him to vacuum or wash his hoodies before giving them to you

But you like them because every time you see the strands of gray and white fur sticking out of his hoodie, it reminds you of him

So instead,

Chan starts buying a crap ton of allergy meds

Puts them in every corner of his house

In the bathroom

The kitchen

The living room

The bedroom

Literally everywhere just in case you get a super bad reaction

That way he’s always prepared for anything

Minho

A maine coon hybrid

The most luscious fur ever known to man

His cat ears are so fluffy and always well groomed

He has this beautiful fluffy orange tail that he’s gotten pretty good at hiding his feelings with

Usually a hybrid’s animal features would probably give away their emotions, but Minho learned to control his ears and tails really well

It’s just that his ears are really sensitive and they flick around every few seconds whenever he’s in a crowded place

He has a pair of yellow eyes that are constantly in the shape of slits simply because he wants to intimidate everyone around him

Also always has his claws out because they intimidate strangers

Wouldn’t tell anyone, but Minho lets his pupils dilate when he’s alone with you (´∀｀)♡

He also likes to tease you a lot but you know he’s just joking because if he was serious, his tail wouldn’t be so related

You try not to tell him because then he’ll start working harder to hide his tail swishes

Is the most precious yet teasing boyfriend out there

He’ll make a joke about you eating a lot of ice cream whenever you’re sad, but he’ll always have your favourite ice cream in the freezer

If you complain about some kind of muscle pain, Min would call you weak but then also come home with muscle relief patches that he’ll stick to you himself

Minho likes to shift into cat form if you’re stressed because then it means that he wouldn’t really disturb you a lot

His footsteps are way quieter when he’s in cat form as compared to human form

So if you’re stressed or tired and you ask him to give you time

Minho would shift and hide in one of the cat towers he bought for himself until he hears you coming out of the bedroom

The moment he hears the sound of the bedroom door opening, he’ll lift his head and peek out from the top

If you sit on the floor right in front of the tower, Minho will scurry off of the tower to sit in your lap to

But if you don’t even look at the tower and you instead go to the kitchen, he’ll wait a bit longer to give you more time

Changbin

Yk I wanna say he’d be some cursed Dwaekki hybrid the skzoo dwaekki haunts me in my sleep

But I genuinely feel like he’d be something really threatening like a wild animal

So if Chan’s a husky and Minho’s a maine coon

I’m gonna throw Changbin in as a grizzly bear because he’s a tank of a man and I love him for that

His ears are dark brown and rounded, poking out from the top of his head

His eyes are super dark brown and sometimes you can’t even tell if you’re able to see the white in his eyes bcs his pupils are just that big

His hands have these huge black claws that could claw someone apart if he wanted to

Also has a cute brown tail that he often hides underneath his clothes because it’s small enough for him to sit on

He gives THE BEST CUDDLESSSS!!!!!

Sometimes shifts into bear form just to cuddle you because it’s cold and relying on the heater might make it too warm

So Binnie likes to use his own fur to warm you up if he notices you shivering

Also would not hesitate to bear his teeth at anyone who tries to hurt you

Changbin doesn’t really tell anyone this

But one of his proudest bear traits is his ability to vocalise like a bear

Which means that whenever he feels the need to protect you or whoever’s around him

He will growl like a bear

And it’s terrifying

You didn’t even know that Changbin could roar until one night when a stranger wouldn't take your ‘no’ as an answer and your boyfriend almost lost his mind

He pulled you behind him and grabbed the collar of their shirt and just roared at them

The stranger being a hybrid of a smaller bear species immediately scrambled off

But Changbin also immediately switches back into sweet, cuddly boyfriend the moment he turns back to you <3

Hyunjin

A sphynx hybrid

Very dramatic

Very loud

He has pink cat ears sticking out of the top of his head with a little black splotch on his left ear

He also has this naked pink tail that sticks out from underneath his shirt

Every minor inconvenience and Hyunjin’s meowing and whining to you about it and you think it’s funny every time he does

Like the time he misplaced his sock and was crying all over your shared home looking for it until he found it underneath the bed

His claws are retractable, so he usually hides them because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone on accident unlike Minho

He’s VERY cuddly both in human form and cat form

Hyunjin likes to do the ‘kneading the dough’ thing whenever you’re cuddling

And ends up leaving holes in your clothes because his claws would accidentally grab onto the fabric

Would also feel really bad afterwards because now he’s ruined your shirt

You reassure him that it’s fine

But Hyunjin’s dramatic also kinda wants an excuse to go shopping with you

So he cries about it and it leads to him dragging you to the mall so that he can buy you a new one

Ends up getting distracted at a cat cafe because he’s made conversation with one of the cats there

And he’s basically talking to them like he’s a middle aged wine mom talking about their weird husbands

You have to remind him what the goal is

But he’s so immersed in the conversation with the orange tabby that you can only watch in amusement

Hyunjin’s talking to it in English while the cat nods with it’s tail swishing every time he asks it a question, mewling every once in a while as a response

You watch with a smile on your face, chin resting against the palm of your hand as you listen

You can only gather that Hyunjin’s telling the cat about why you’re at the mall

And the cat turns to you with a bored expression on its face before meowing

“She says good luck on finding a new shirt”

You nod and reach out to pet the cat’s head as thanks

You and Hyunjin leave after a while

And soon, the trip to get one shirt turns into a shared shopping spree

Jisung

Kinda obvious but he’s a squirrel hybrid

He has a pair of rounded, light brown ears on the top of his head

A bushy light brown tail that bumps into everything whenever he’s in cramped spaces

And the CUTEST pair of brown eyes EVERRRRR

His squirrel trait is where he gets the habit of stuffing food into his cheeks whenever he eats

Ji’s really good at climbing

So he has this long ass piece of wood that he keeps in the living room of his home so that he can still climb something in squirrel form if he can’t go outside

He also has tiny black claws that he uses mainly for practicality when he's in human form

So stuff like cutting into plastic, through strings and to open mail

He just slides his finger across the top of the envelope and boom

Jisung’s quite clumsy

It doesn’t help that he has this huge, bushy tail behind him

He bumps you with it a lot and he’s always so apologetic over it

But it’s fine because it’s his tail and it’s soft and cute and it’s part of Jisung UwU

There were a couple of times where you would wake up and his tail would be tickling your sides

So you’d wake up giggling

And it would wake him up too

He’d turn around and immediately wrap his arms around your waist to cuddle into you

You love playing with his ears

Jisung’s really responsive whenever you pet his squirrel features

So if you touch his tail in public

He’s jolting forward like AHHH

And you like to gently rub his ears whenever you’re cuddling

Jisung usually ends up cuddling into you more because he really likes it whenever you play with his ears

He has a habit of making those squirrel squeaks whenever he’s uncomfortable

So in public, if he feels like he’s overwhelmed or wants to leave

He’ll cling onto your arm and start squeaking softly so that only you’re able to hear

And it’s an easy way for you to know that he wants to leave without him actually telling you

Felix

Horned owl hybrid

He has two sets of white and brown feathers that poke out from the top of his head and curls to the back

He does, however, have talons at his fingertips that he doesn’t really like because it gets caught on a lot of things

Has feathers running down his arms, but can’t actually fly in human form

His eyes are this beautiful amber colour

He also has a lot of hanging stuff in his house that he likes to fly back and forth to whenever he shifts into owl form

Absolutely loves doing the head spinning trick because you freaked out the first time you saw him do it as a human

Felix also has really light footsteps

So sometimes you don’t even hear him coming into a room and suddenly he’s beside you

Which scares you sometimes

Overall, Felix is just unintentionally scary.

Buuuut

Because he has really good eyesight at night

And because he’s nocturnal

He sleeps in the day

Which means that all of his work is done at night while you’re asleep

His hearing is intense which means that he could hear the smallest pin dropping in the kitchen from the bedroom

So when he hears something strange coming from the kitchen

He’s immediately crawling out of bed and peeking out of the bedroom door

That’s when he sees a spider crawling out from behind the fridge

A huge spider

Now, Felix does NOT like spiders

But he knows that if you wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink, then you’re going to be freaked out by too

But he should be able to toss it out the window in owl form

So Felix pops open one of the windows and shifts

His silent flying and sharp night vision make it a quick mission that’s executed without much hassle

He manages to grab the spider with his talons and just tosses it straight out of the window

By the time Felix has returned to the bedroom

You’ve woken up because you realised he wasn’t beside you anymore

So he climbs back into bed and lets you hold onto him while you fall back asleep

Seungmin

Labrador hybrid

Has a pair of golden ears flopping over the top of his head

Also has a golden tail that he usually hides because if he gets over excited then it’ll wag all over the place and might bump into things

Is a relatively quiet person and is also a quiet dog

He doesn’t say or bark that much

But you’ve come to learn how to read his body language

Because his posture both in human form and dog form speak his thoughts

Like whenever he’s standing tall then you’ll figure that Minnie’s probably uncomfortable or feels threatened

As quiet as he is

He’s extremely attentive to your needs as well

Seungmin’s able to catch your body language way quicker than you are at reading his

Which means that the moment you look uncomfortable, he’s immediately moving to stand beside you with an arm wrapped around you

Think of it as that TikTok trend that’s like ‘using my scary dog privilege’

In this case

Seungmin’s more than happy to be the scary dog that lets you walk around alone

He’d bark and bite at anything or anyone who would try to hurt you

Even in human form, he’d growl as a warning to other animal hybrids that are around you

Whenever you’re out in public, Seungmin tries to stay by your side just in case anything happens

But when he has to part from you to talk to another group of your friends

He keeps you in his line of sight

He’d always angle himself in conversations so that the person he’s talking to has their back facing you so that he’s able to see you

And when a cat hybrid suddenly approaches you

Seungmin’s more on the attentive side but he hasn’t gone into protective mode because you don’t look uncomfortable

But then your frame starts to shrink

He immediately changes his posture

Which scares the people around him because suddenly, Seungmin looks so scary

He waits a moment longer and the moment you start looking around the room for him, he’s shoved his drink into the hands of Hyunjin so that he can make his way over to you

He slings his arm over your shoulder and glares at the cat hybrid who’s now extremely intimidated by the presence of the labrador hybrid

Seungmin leans close to the cat and growls at them until they run off

He stays with you for the rest of the night and the way he stays in protective mode makes you feel safe

Until you get home and Seungmin’s back to this ball of cuddle fluff that you absolutely love (｡♥‿♥｡)

Jeongin

Fennec fox hybrid

Has a big pair of white fluffy ears that poke out of his head

Has a fluffy white tail that blends into a more golden colour that’s long enough to poke out from underneath his shirt

He has super insane hearing

Even if he has headphones in, he can hear the outside world

Bodes well for him because whenever you walk into his apartment, he’ll walk out immediately to greet you

He never actually feels hot or warm because his body heat radiates off of his ears

Is always cold in human form

In fox form, his fur insulates his body instead so he doesn’t feel much of a difference

Has a habit of not drinking for hours because he can get stuck in his fox form

Also has a habit of chewing on your desk plants if he deems them edible

Unfortunately for you, that means you’ll come home to your beautiful plant babies half eaten and munched away because your fox boyfriend wanted a snack

To solve this problem, you filled the fridge with berries and vegetables for whenever he feels like snacking

But sometimes he goes overboard and he pretty much eats everything he can find when he forgets to eat for a while

He’s a fox hybrid that doesn’t know how to shift on command

Usually he has this big urge to shift but he’ll be stuck in one form for a while before being able to switch

He doesn’t know any other fox hybrids

So Jeongin has to learn to control his animalistic instincts with the help of you!

His human partner

Lucky for the both of you

You have a friend who’s a red fox hybrid

She’s not a fennec fox

But she still shares similar instincts to Jeongin because they’re both fox hybrids

So now Jeongin comes to you with the biggest smile on his face whenever he’s accomplished something, gushing about how Fox Noona taught him how to shift on command

He’ll show you

And you watch as he shifts into this tiny little fennec fox with a big smile on his snout (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

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milliedazzledust · 4 years ago

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Somewhere Only We Know (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @the-craziestone story about Bucky x Reader, where Bucky is really obsessed with Reader - But not in a creepy way, more like he's really really in love with her and he can only see her, like she's his world Anon: can you do something with reader gifting Bucky Barnes the 3 Lord of the Rings books? They were published after WWII, and reader knows he liked The Hobbit so she thinks it's something he'd like

Words: 2943

A/N: this is pure fluff with no warning, also I changed a tiny bit the second request to fit the story - enjoy ;)

He couldn’t explain the sadness he constantly felt every time he was walking through the streets of the city he used to know by heart. A stranger in a strange land was the best way to describe him. More than seventy years had passed, and he hadn’t witnessed any changes. While he had been a puppet deprived of freewill and controlled with the sole purpose of killing, he had missed the birth of a whole new world. Now, as he strode around the streets, he could easily remember each of their names, but none of them were familiar. His mind remained in the 1940’s and in the middle of the noises, surrounded by the sound of first responders vehicles, the children running around and cars piling up on the road, he was a stranger in his own home. It was an unsettling feeling, a pining melancholy that reminded him in every step he made that his Brooklyn didn’t exist anymore.

He was furious in a way, but mostly confused. Haunted by memories he had gotten back a second ago, and they didn’t fit this new reality. He wasn’t even nostalgic, but the loneliness was getting heavier every day. He could still picture the park he used to take his sister, the alley where Steve had gotten beaten up one day, the bakery his mother used to go to every morning. Treasure of souvenirs he would keep forever. And although the park, the alley and the streets names were still here, he was left alone walking down Brooklyn.

“Hey, Y/N!” He heard a voice shouting. “Where do I put those ?”

His head mechanically turned to a young boy carrying a heavy box of what looked like antics. Without thinking he crossed the road and when his eyes laid on the small shop, he gasped. There it was, one small piece of his past still here. It was an old bookstore he used to go to with his sister. The man, a friend, an immigrant from France with a thick accent, would let them stay for hours. Bucky loved reading to Rebecca. They would sit inside and she’d insist to hear The Hobbit. François, the man owning the store, would make coffee and stay with them, relating the stories he had heard around the world, telling them all about the France he had known. It was all still here. ‘Au Nom de la Rose’ was still here.

He didn’t hesitate a second and rushed inside the place, an honest smile on his face. His eyes roamed over the room and he took a deep breath. It was just like he remembered, a place filled with murmurs and whispers floating above his head and through the roof, indistinct conversations between friends, huge windows bringing in a powerful light at this hour of the day, plants in almost every corner. Even the atmosphere was the same, this powerful smell of imagination coming from the laying books on the shelves, begging to be read, mixing with a distinct smell coming from the dust. The small couch and the old table he used to sit by with his sister were also there. The wooden pieces had many rough and sharp edges but looked just as smooth and clean as he remembered. Finally, his eyes landed on a woman there. He watched her rearranging a bouquet of daffodils, breathing in the perfume of the vibrant flowers as she tended to them meticulously.

For some reason, he couldn’t look away. She felt familiar, like he had known her all his life, yet he had never seen her before. When she turned around he took an instinctive step toward her. She noticed, raised her head and that was the moment their eyes met. His breath caught in his throat when she smiled at him. He stood, frozen on the spot, staring at her. He couldn’t comprehend that instant connection. There was an inexplicable sense of excitement yet weird feeling that they had known each other forever, that they were meeting each other again after a long journey. He was transfixed, almost stuck by the confusing mixture of emotions but oddly comforted by them - all at the same time.

“Can I help you ?” She asked him.

He surprised himself thinking there was something eerily calming about her voice, that he could listen to her for hours.

“Do I know you ?” He quickly wondered out loud, mentally facepalming himself for his lack of tact.

“Shouldn’t I be asking that question ?”

“Why ?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes” She grinned.

“I’m … I’m sorry” He apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Look weird ?”

He could swear his heart skipped a beat when he heard her laugh.

“This place is beautiful”

“Thank you”

“How long have you been working here ?”

“Forever” She smirked. “The store belongs to my family. Passed on from generation to generation”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“You’re related to François Y/L/N ?” He questioned.

She tilted her head, crossing her arms.

“Now I’m intrigued” She told him. “How do you know about my grandfather ?”

“We’ve met,” He answered without thinking. He rapidly realized his mistake when she narrowed her eyes in utter curiosity. “I … I didn’t mean … I mean … It was … It was a long time ago”

He gulped, hoping she wouldn’t push it. She looked him up and down, assessing him.

“What’s your name, weirdo ?” She inquired, giving him a skeptical glance.

“Bucky. M’am”

She smirked.

“Let me guess, a soldier ?”

“How … ?”

“You all have the same manners, and the same eyes”

“What do you mean ?”

She was now standing in front of him, staring at his face with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

“You carry the same sadness and the horror you’ve seen” She replied honestly. “My father was a lot like that too”

Her answer had the effect of a punch in the gut he hadn’t been expecting. He felt naked under her gaze, a stranger with the power to see through his soul.

“I’m Y/N” She introduced herself, raising her hand to shake his.

It was rare for him to smile truthfully but the unexpected bliss slowly growing made his lips twitch before he could even acknowledge it.

“Hi, Y/N” He greeted her.

She chuckled, amused.

“Hi, Bucky” She murmured.

After that encounter, he made a point of coming back as much as he could. He stayed for hours sitting on the couch, reading the same book over and over again. They shared quick words but he didn’t dare to start up a conversation, too afraid he would say something he shouldn’t, something that would scare her away. He was content like this. There was no Winter Soldier, no war, no fight, no one else than Bucky. Being next to this girl was in itself a medication for him. It made no sense but she was so bright and radiant. Like a magnet, he was sucked into an invisible gravitational pull toward her.

By the second week of him coming into the store, she started to notice the small marks of attention. He would come so silently she wouldn’t hear a thing, bringing a fresh cup of coffee he would lay on her counter when she wasn’t looking, replacing the daffodils before they could fade, carrying the heavy boxes filled with new books. When she wasn’t working, she would grab something to read and sit next to him. They would exchange a smile but wouldn’t talk. The proximity was enough. Their presence was louder than any word. A quiet routine they were slowly creating.

By the fourth month, nothing had changed and that day was no different. Rain was pouring outside and the store was empty, except for Y/N and Bucky. Just as usual, he was reading in a corner while she was working. New stacks of books had arrived and she was methodically putting them on the shelves. Standing on a ladder, on the tip of her toes, she was so focused on the task she had failed to notice the soldier walking up to her.

“Do you need any help ?” He offered.

Surprised to hear his voice so close to her, she lost her balance and slipped. She yelped as her ankle hit one side of the ladder and automatically closed her eyes, anticipating the fall. She tried to brace herself but before her body could touch the ground she felt something cold holding her waist. Suddenly, instead of laying on the floor, she was against his hard chest, in a protective embrace. She recognized his arms around her and shivered at the odd coldness. He felt it immediately and was quick to put some distance between them, making sure his metal arm was no more on her body and only his human hand was steadying her.

“Are you alright ?” He questioned. She pursed her lips, trying not to show that she was hurt when she heard how worried he sounded.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine”

He looked skeptic but didn’t say anything about it.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologetically told her.

He took the books scattered on the ground, putting them away, and helped her walk to the couch.

“You know, if the goal was to literally make me fall for you, I’d say you did a pretty good job there” She flirted, making him chuckle.

He sat on the table in front of her and grabbed her calve, gently laying her leg on his thigh to assess the damage. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her blushing. It made him insanely happy to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their closeness. They tried not to look at one another, too embarrassed by the situation. This was the closest they had ever been and the touch on his skin on hers was more than enough to make her heart ready to jump out of her chest. When he clasped her injured ankle, she cried and instinctively pushed him back.

“Fine, huh ?” He repeated her own words with a smirk.

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

“It’s not a big deal, Bucky” She reassured him. “I’ve got to get back to work”

“You’re not moving from this couch” He ordered.

“Is that an order, soldier ?” She ironically threw at him, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“You bet it is”

She watched him, intrigued, as he stood up and piled up some books on the table to put her ankle to rest on it.

“No moving around, got it ?” He made sure she would follow his advice.

“Aye, aye, Captain”

He chuckled

“Technically speaking, I’m not a Captain” He confessed as he continued what she had been doing earlier and started putting the books carefully on the right shelves.

“Would you have preferred Sergeant ?” She replied, bitting her lips, unsure this was the wrong moment to admit she knew who he was.

He instantly stopped what he was doing and slowly turned around to stare at her.

“What did you say ?” He asked, more scared than ever.

Up until that moment, he had avoided telling her who he was. Becoming part of the Avengers meant his identity wasn’t a secret anymore, and although he had done a terrific job staying hidden among the mass of people, it wouldn’t have taken more than a little push to find who he really was. He stood in front of her, frozen, not having a clue how to react.

“Sergeant Barnes, isn’t it ?” She sounded nervous, almost frightened to say his name out loud.

“I… “ He tried to say anything, but as the rain kept pouring outside, slowly turning into a thunderstorm, he blankly stared back.

“Would you have told me ?” She whispered.

“Eventually”

She humorlessly snorted.

“We’ve known each other for more than three months, Bucky. I see you practically every day. Be honest, eventually would’ve never come”

“It’s not like that” He tried to explain.

“I’m not mad, don’t worry” She sadly smiled. “I just wish… I guess I wish you could’ve trust me”

He rubbed his jaw in frustration and made a step toward her. Without breaking his gaze, he slowly took the glove off, revealing his metal hand. Still, he didn’t look at her, too afraid of her reaction. The cold metal had never felt so hot against his skin, a burning reminder of the stranger he had become.

“I didn’t want you to be scared,” He admitted in a broken voice.

“Of you ?” She was surprised. “Why would I be ?”

“I’m not a good man, Y/N”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that ?”

“You don’t understand…”

“The red box under the counter” She interrupted him. “Can you take it for me ? And turn the sign of the shop, we’re closed.”

He gave her a puzzled look, but did as she said anyway. He locked the front door and took the box she asked for before walking to her and putting it directly in her hands.

“Sit” She instructed him.

He didn’t dare to stay near her and chose to stay on an opposite chair.

“I found this a little after you and I met” She told him, motioning to the box. “It was in the basement, hidden under old junks my parents had kept over the years”

He let her speak, not understanding where this was going or why she was telling him about that. She slowly opened the mystery box and took a small envelope out of it. It looked old, so old the paper had turned into a deep shade of yellow.

“My grandfather wrote this” She confessed. “In 1957. It’s addressed to Bucky and Rebecca Barnes. I believe it belongs to you”

She handed him the letter that he took with shaky hands.

“How did you… ?” He started to ask.

“It was a long shot,” She explained. “The first time you were here, you said my grandfather's name like it meant something to you. Like you really knew him. When I found the box, and the envelope, I didn’t make the connection with you right away. But your name was all I needed to start my research. My parents kept pretty much everything so it didn’t took me too long to find an old photo with you and him, back in the 1930′s”

He wasn’t moving at all when she showed him a picture François had taken of them right before he was enlisted.

“I wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, I guess. I mean, you have enough ghosts as it is”

“Still not scared ?” He inquired in a humorless chuckle.

“Not one bit” She didn’t hesitate to reply.

She softly smiled and motioned for him to come closer. When he sat next to her, she moved the box from her lap to his.

“We were friends, François and I” He recalled, his eyes glued on the letter. “He was married to Eloise. This bookstore was their treasure. He kept repeating that I shouldn’t go to war when I could stay hidden under the pages of books that would take me around the world without risking my life”

She took his metal palm between her fingers when she heard his voice breaking. He almost tried to remove it but she tightly entwined their hands together.

“Maybe he was right” He muttered under his breath.

“Or maybe you and I were meant to meet almost a century later” She shrugged.

He snorted before turning around the envelope to open it. Y/N gently laid her head against his shoulder and let him read in silence. She didn’t move when she felt his body shaking with tears but only held his hand harder.

“They’re originals, from 1954 I think. He kept them for you” She told him as he slowly took what was in the red box. A set of three old books. “Why Lord of the Rings, though ?”

He laughed,sniffing, before brushing the tears off his face and staring down at the woman. At that very moment, he felt like the journey was done. His soul had stopped the search it had been on for a time that felt like forever. Like a century.

“My sister and I, we used to come here often,” He said in a melancholic grin. Sorrow was finally starting to be replace by something much better, happiness. “We would sit on this very couch and she would make me read the Hobbit. She used to love that story so much.”

“How many times has she make you read it ?” The woman smirked.

“Enough to remember every single word” He exaggerated, making her giggle. “When I told François I was leaving, he said he would send me books to help me travel away from the war, even just for a moment. I guess he kept them, hoping I would come back. Even after I was declared dead”

“Maybe deep down he knew you weren’t”

“And he planned this whole meeting with his granddaughter ?” He ironically added.

“Oh no, that was beyond him. That was fate, Barnes”

“I was meant to find you” He agreed, a deep feeling of love and utter contentment forming in his heart. He bent his head down and let all he needed to say be spoken through the kiss they shared.

“Will you read it to me ?” She playfully requested.

Overflowed with joy, he smirked and kissed her forehead before opening the old book on his lap. There it was, the only choice he needed to make. The only home he had yearn to create. Her.

#Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier imagine #falcon and the winter soldier #Winter Soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagines #fatws #tfatws

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

the house, m | ot7 | phase one

full title: the hell house

pairing(s): ot7 x reader

phase one (hyung line) >> phase two (maknae line)

summary: Welcome to the Hell House. Some call it resident evil. Some call it a haunted house. Some call it a waste of space (rude). Enter if you dare – the Doctor will ensure that you never come out the same. What's that? Why are you going with your seven fuckbuddies? You wouldn't... fuck in there, right? (Yes, you would.)

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, MAD HORNY CHAOTIC ENERGY; unprotected supernatural monster sex (you will never be in these situations... at least, I hope not o_o); crack; fluff amidst the wild fucking; hyung line smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics in some scenes, multiple orgasms, nipple play, handjob, m and f-receiving oral, penetrative sex, ass eating, creampie, edging, cowgirl; this sounds normal but it is not, I am just avoiding spoilers except: futanari warning); non-idol!AU - ot7 x sex friend!reader; each member has their own scene in their POV

appearances based on PTD On Stage + the Doctor 'journey' au, although can be read alone when I said this is a harem hentai featuring you and BTS, I meant it it is 25k+ words, so it had to be split into two parts, sigh

"I'm going to die. Tonight, right here. It's gonna happen. I can feel it. I'm too handsome to die. I'm the main character. The main character can't die."

"Is Seokjin-hyung okay?"

"He seems fine to me," replied a deep, bored voice.

"Ican'tdothisohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodwhyamIherewhatislifewhydoweexist?"

"And Hoseokie-hyung?"

"Here, Hoseok, have some tea," Min Yoongi said calmly, putting his arm around Jung Hoseok, who was wearing all white, relaxed sweater layered over a large dress shirt, track pants with a neon rainbow stripe, complexion included. Hoseok stared up at the looming large house with the black metal gates. He took the silver thermos from Yoongi with shaking hands and took a sip, his large brown eyes darting from side to side, taking in the moonlight reflecting off the cracked windows, the missing or broken black shutters, the exposed, weathered brick, and the sign at the front held up by a plastic skeleton.

WELCOME TO THE HELL HOUSE! KINDLY AWAIT YOUR TURN TO DIE. THANK YOU.

Hoseok sputtered and jerked his head to Yoongi. "Ack, is that ginger?!"

Yoongi shrugged, black leather jacket creaking. "Good for the indigestion you're inevitably having right now." His dark silver-gray hair caught the moonlight, lighting up his amused expression as Hoseok fanned his tongue and complained, forgetting about the terrifying haunted house in front of them.

"Where's the troublemaker that suggested this?" Kim Taehyung muttered, hands on his hips.

"With the other troublemaker that's not going to get scared at all and laugh at us," Park Jimin muttered, popping up next to him wearing the same pumpkin sweater Taehyung was wearing.

"Why are you guys matching?" Kim Namjoon wondered out loud, scratching his head. His hair was still short and dark, more black than brown.

"Because I accidentally ordered two," Jimin sighed.

"Wasn't an accident. You wanted free shipping."

"I meant to get a different design, but I had waited too long and the other designs were sold out."

"The things we do for free shipping," Namjoon mused sagely.

“Hey guys! Heeeeeeey!”

“Ah, the troublemaker.”

“Both of them.”

“You’re dressed up,” Yoongi mused, tilting his head as you ran up to the group.

“Of course, I am! It’s Halloween!” you exclaimed, waving your giant fake syringe around. Short, tight white minidress with red piping, white thigh-thighs attached to a red garter belt, white loafers. Long sleeves, because you weren’t about to freeze, prop syringe, tiny white hat with a big red plus sign at the center. Oh, and a white face mask. Safety first. “I’m a nurse.”

“Did you nurse Jungkookie back to health?” Yoongi snickered, cocking an eyebrow at the mint-haired man behind you, stumbling to a stop, panting hard. He was wearing a white shirt and a black fleece jacket, along with pumpkin sunglasses. His hair was a cool mint, silver right eyebrow piercing glinting above the smiling pumpkin lens, silver lip ring gleaming on the right side of his lips.

You placed you hands on your hips, beaming proudly. “I did!”

“You railed him.”

Jeon Jungkook choked. “What, no, I obviously–”

“Hell yeah, I railed him!”

Jimin and Taehyung burst out laughing as Jungkook tried to refute you. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi smiled knowingly. Hoseok was as white as a sheet, even whiter now that his hair was black.

“G-Guys, did you hear that…?”

A crow cawed loudly, silencing everyone.

Seokjin clutched Namjoon like a rosary, jerking him from side to side. “H-H-Hear what, what am I supposed to be hearing, Hoseok?” he yelped shrilly as Namjoon sputtered dizzily, putting up his fists even though he had no idea what he was supposed to be fighting.

Everyone crowded around Hoseok in a semicircle, looking towards the empty street, suddenly aware that no one was around, suddenly realizing that the street was deserted and it was a bit foggy, and suddenly that was much weirder than the haunted house behind you because where had all the people gone?

You brandished the giant fake syringe like a sword, looking out to the vacant street and flickering streetlights.

“Nice butt,” Yoongi commented behind you.

“Hyung, this isn’t the time to – oh wow, nice butt,” Jimin said distractedly. “There’s even a little red bow in the back. Cute.”

“There is? Oh, that is cute,” added a deep baritone voice. You suddenly felt Taehyung’s hand on your butt. “Ah, always so fun to squeeze. Your legs look great too. Jungkook, get your hand off her other butt cheek, you selfish little shit–” Oh, that was the owner of the other hand. You turned to your right to look at the black blob that was probably Jungkook, about to chastise him for being greedy, and Jungkook was not the one standing there.

There was a big white beak in your face.

“Welcome to the Hell House,” the beak said in a resonating, surreal voice.

“Gah!”

Everyone jumped back, staring at the tall black form with a white plague doctor mask. The mask covered the entire face. It had round, black-tinted lenses where the eyes would be. The rest of the body was covered in black – large wide-brimmed black hat, long coat with ruffled brocade lapels, robes that touched the floor and covered any indication of shoes or pants, and a covering over the neck and head that concealed the hair and skin color.

The white beak tilted, almost playful.

“You may call me the Doctor. I take care of the Hell House that you have so graciously booked an appointment with.”

It was hard to tell if it was a male or female voice. Well, it was hard to tell if it was a human voice. Whoever it was must be using a voice changer. The white beak tilted the other way, leaning down, and you realized this Doctor… person was rather tall. Obscenely tall. Maybe on stilts or platform shoes or something. The body shape was completely concealed under the layers and layers of black.

“Was it you who booked the appointment?”

The voice changer made the chuckle almost sinister. Almost.

Cool!

You nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I heard a lot about this place. Everyone goes in and no one comes out the same,” you explained, wiggling your arms spookily, recalling the reviews. “They were all really vague about what actually happens though. They said you have to sign a waiver.” You frowned. “This isn’t like a SAW movie, is it?”

The white beak tipped up and bounced heartily, a crackly laugh piercing the air. You noticed there was a think black leather choker around the neck with a dangling silver crescent moon. Ah, probably to hide the voice changer. “No, I will not be putting your lives on the line. Not this time.”

“Not this time?” Hoseok squeaked behind you.

“Oh, but everyone said there has to be a sacrifice,” you remembered. “What do they mean by that?”

The white beak lowered; the eyeless black lenses pointed in your direction.

“There must be a destination, of course. Someone to save to encourage the players pass their test and reach the end goal,” the Doctor explained.

“But that means one person won’t walk through the house. They won’t get the full experience,” you complained, waving the syringe at the beak.

“On the contrary.”

And then all of a sudden, the beak was in your face, brim of the hat touching your forehead. Holy shit! How did they get so close so fast? Holy shit! How cool! You felt a shiver of excitement shoot up your spine.

“The sacrifice will be tested more than all the rest. It is, perhaps, the most dangerous position of all.”

“Then Jungkook should do it.”

The beak retreated as you snapped your head around to the immediate suggestion. Jungkook whipped his head to the voice – his hand was still on your ass all this time, along with Taehyung’s – glaring at Seokjin. The eldest clutched the back of Namjoon’s navy denim jacket and peered over the broad shoulder with a not-so-innocent innocent expression. “What? He should! He’s the bravest!”

“That’s why he should be with us!” Jimin protested, yanking on Jungkook’s free arm. “We’re gonna die without him!”

“I’m gonna die without him,” Hoseok wheezed, looking like he was about to faint. Yoongi held him up by the collar, looking indifferent.

“I’m too handsome to die,” Seokjin wailed.

“No one is gonna die,” Taehyung coughed. He jerked his head to the Doctor. “No one is gonna die, right?”

“None of you will become Mr. Skelly over there, no.”

A black-gloved hand appeared out of the coat and pointed to the plastic skeleton holding the sign that said, WELCOME TO THE HELL HOUSE! KINDLY AWAIT YOUR TURN TO DIE. THANK YOU.

“It says we’re going to die.”

“That’s just for dramatic effect,” the Doctor chuckled. “Everyone will need to live so you can write raving reviews and I can get more visitors to make some money. Sigh. Rent isn’t cheap these days.”

“That it isn’t,” Namjoon nodded sagely.

“I’ll do it.”

Everyone turned to stare at you.

You bounced over to the Doctor and waved your giant fake syringe with a big grin. “Doctor and nurse, right? It’s perfect!”

“Er, not the right kind of doctor…”

“Also, you look more like a slutty porn nurse than an actual nurse…”

“That’s Miss Slutty Porn Nurse to you,” you warned, jabbing the air with the syringe. “And I’m going to leave with the Doctor, hmph!” You stopped in the middle of your stomping away, realizing you had no idea where to go or what to do. You looked up at the white plague doctor mask, asking, “Are you alone, Doctor? Do you have helpers?”

A low, crackling laugh bubbled from the mask, sinister and demonic.

“Ohohoho...”

The beak turned, slowly, slowly, pointed down, eyeless lenses on you.

“I have more than enough help… now.”

“Bro, we just signed papers and had to give a fingerprint. I couldn’t even read the waivers because it’s so dark in here.”

“We’re going to die.”

“What do you think they meant by being tested? Something on the waiver said we had to pass a test.”

“Oh, fuck, we’re going to have to use our education? I’m doomed.”

“We’re going to die.”

“Stop saying that. The Doctor said we weren’t going to be Mr. Skelly.”

“Do you even trust that guy?”

“Do we even know if it’s a guy?!”

“Well, they’re not a bird, we know that.”

“You think you’re so funny. I hope you get eaten.”

“Ow, Jimin, you stepped on my foot.”

“Taehyung, I’m on your left side.”

There was a startled yelp and panicked gasping as bodies tumbled into each other. The candles at the top of the foyer flickered, some of them going out. Seven pairs of eyes looked up, seeing the tall skylight. The moon shone above them, gleaming with tendrils of red.

Something large crawled over the cracked glass, something with too many legs.

“Oh my God.”

“Hoseok! Hoseok, don’t faint, get it together!”

“Hyung, here, have some water!”

“Ack! That’s disgusting!”

“That’s Yoongi-hyung’s ginger tea, oops…”

“The Doctor said we should go through these doors, right?”

The seven pairs of eyes stared at the large, intricately carved French doors made of thick, heavy wood.

“I mean… should we just go?”

“You want to leave our nurse behind?”

Silence.

“I’m gonna miss that pussy, but I am too handsome to die.”

“Hyung, get back here.”

Two hands pressed against the thick wooden doors. One bare, one tattooed. They pushed the doors open without fear, revealing the pitch-black darkness within.

“Don’t worry hyungs. We got this! I’ll protect you guys.”

Seven men stepped inside, and all seven men suddenly found themselves alone.

“A blindfold? Kinky.”

“Precautions are incredibly kinky, Miss Slutty Porn Nurse.”

You pouted as the Doctor fitting the silk black blindfold over your eyes. “But I wanna see.”

“You will see.”

The voice neared and suddenly it didn’t seem to resonate anymore, suddenly it sounded human, suddenly it sounded real, like a voice you’ve heard before, but you still couldn’t tell if it was male or female, couldn’t place the age or accent, seeming more like an omnipresent god that was by your side than a human being.

“You will see everyone and everything.”

The ground beneath you moved and you stumbled, startled at the rising floor, falling back into a mountain of fabric, strong hands on your shoulders, clutching your prop, the giant fake syringe, and then it was gone, where did it go, what was going on, why did you lift your head even though you couldn’t see anything, why did it feel like the layers of clothing were surrounding you, warm with a faint smokey and sweet scent, gloved hands sliding down and ghosting your body, closing in.

You racked your brain to remember if the waiver had some clause where you agreed to star in a spooky porno. Not that you wouldn’t, because you would if you were getting some percentage of the profits and if your co-stars were your seven favorite dicks who, hey, just so happened to be in the same house, maybe it was a spooky porno, well then, hell yeah!

You were probably too comfortable with this.

“You are too comfortable with this.”

You jumped, realizing you were now sitting in a quilted velvet chair, your syringe in your lap.

“You can read minds?” you called to the darkness, still wearing the blindfold.

“I can do a lot of things. If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s predictable.”

Uh. Okay.

“Um… w-what happens now…?”

“What do you think?”

You sat there, confused.

“Don’t pretend you weren’t thinking what you were thinking seconds ago. There’s no money involved though. I won’t be selling this.”

Lightbulb. “Porn?” you echoed.

A low chuckle.

“It’s what you think it is, but also not.”

Where have you heard that before?

The tie of the blindfold loosened and suddenly you saw Kim Namjoon in front of you.

But also not.

You blinked slowly. You were looking at him waist height. Wow, he was tall. And sexy. And confused. He even looked sexy when confused. He was frowning. You realized none of the other guys were standing around him. He was in a giant library, staring at the massive bookshelves that were wall-to-wall. You could see him. He was right there. You opened your mouth to call to him.

You couldn’t.

And then you realized the body you were in was not your body, because the head was not attached to the neck.

The Doctor spoke behind you, orchestrating everything.

“And so, the experience begins … in proper order, of course.”

kim namjoon.

He was in a library.

“Guys?”

Kim Namjoon turned around and tried the door again. Ugh. Nothing. He squinted at the old knob, rubbing the door plate. There didn’t seem to be a place to put a key. He checked the tarnished brass knob once more. Smacked it with his palm, making the door rattle. Did it again, harder. Nothing. Damn. What was the point of being the God of Destruction if the things he wanted to break didn’t break?! Normally he wasn’t overly fond of the nickname, but right now it would be pretty damn useful.

“You can’t break the door.”

He spun around, looking around quickly. “W-Who’s there?”

The room was quite large. Every wall was filled with books. Smelled like it too, like old pages and leather. Across from the room was a large fireplace. There were a few tall windows with faint rays of silver moonlight streaming through. The colors were desaturated because of the lack of light, but Namjoon could make out the dark green of the armchairs and matching sofa facing towards the fireplace.

Uh oh.

Someone…. Something was sitting in one of the chairs.

The fireplace abruptly roared to life, blasting the dark room with orange flames.

Namjoon yelped, recoiling at the sudden influx of light, his eyes having already adjusted to the darkness. It took him a moment to blink rapidly, squinting, trying to make out the form by the fireplace.

Wait.

He knew that face.

He called your name, hesitantly.

“Hey, Namjoon.”

He frowned. You hadn’t been wearing that floaty high-necked cream nightgown though. It didn’t really suit you, a bit too Victorian and outdated with the ruffles and the big billowy skirt with no waistline. It looked fake, like a costume. He frowned, walking towards you. It must be you right? That was your face and your smile. Namjoon always thought you had a nice smile. Your smile could be cute or it could be mischievous, but it always made his heart flutter seeing it. It made him want to do things to keep that smile on your face.

Whatever you wanted, even if it was a little naughty.

Especially if it was a little naughty.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be at the end,” Namjoon questioned, scratching his head. “Did I somehow stumble my way to the end? I walked into the black hall with the others, but we all got separated and then I accidentally locked myself in this room… oops…”

His eye caught the shine of a small, clouded, gold-framed mirror propped against a dark green book on the mantle of the fireplace. The hardcover looked very old, with peeling linen edges. The title was in English, gold glided letters faded, barely legible.

The Headless Horseman by Thomas Mayne Reid.

“Namjoon, can I kiss you?” you asked, smiling at him.

He smiled back, holding up his hand, beckoning you to him. “Yeah. Of course. Come here.”

You stood up and there was something strange about it. Sometimes you would playfully cock you head or tick your chin to tease him, but your head was very straight. Still, the playful smirk was familiar, and so was the position of your hands, toying with the front buttons of the nightgown. There were buttons all the way down – easy access, perfect – and suddenly Namjoon forgot he was standing in a haunted house when his lips touched your lips, a soft, delicate kiss that took his breath away, immediately deepening, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and your hands taking his free one, guiding him to the opening at the front of your dress, now unbuttoned, and he gasped, fingertips grazing bare skin, your nipples already hard from the coolness of the room, your scent in his nose. He loved that scent, sometimes bringing his clothes to his nose after you left him, enjoying the familiarity. This was familiar too, doing things that he wasn’t supposed to be doing, with you, squeezing your breasts and playing with your nipples, pinching them, cupping your cheek as you whined into his mouth, your hands wandering down, stroking his growing erection through his tan trousers. He tilted his head, kissing you deeper, sliding his tongue into your mouth, fucking it, savoring your moan and your whimper for more.

Namjoon opened his eyes, sensing something was off.

And then he screamed.

“What the fuck?!”

Your head was in his hand and your body wasn’t attached to your head.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

What…

WHAT’S WRONG?!

Namjoon sputtered, holding you head, gawking at your headless body – oh, well, at least there wasn’t a huge, gaping wound of blood and guts, just a weird smooth skin-like surface poking out of the ruffled neckline, wait, was that better or worse? Namjoon couldn’t decide – struggling to choose whether to drop your head or not, because chucking your head away from him would be very rude, but you were headless, not nearly headless, actually headless, what the fuck???

“Oh… You’re not going to pass your test?”

Namjoon jerked his head towards your, er, disembodied head in his hand. “Wha… What?”

“Your test.”

He blinked slowly. “… My test?”

And suddenly Namjoon found he was very, incredibly, disturbingly horny.

You smiled at him in his hand and he was finding it less and less weird by the second.

“The sacrifice doesn’t actually sacrifice anything,” you explained to him. “Only the players sacrifice something.”

Um, your body was moving and it was taking off his denim jacket. Well, it was quite hot with the fire on and his surging arousal. He had to switch hands so you – your body? good gracious, how was he supposed to differentiate – could remove it, tossing it to the armchair, your hands sliding up his shirt, shivering slightly at the coolness of your touch on his skin.

“Sacrifice w-what?” he gasped, trying to figure out why he was so horny. He did not have a Headless Horseman kink.

Wait.

Namjoon looked up to the mantle of the fireplace, seeing the old book.

The Headless Horseman by Thomas Mayne Reid.

His pants were being removed.

He looked at your head. “The Doctor. What do they want?”

You smiled, the fire casting shadows over your face, making you more mischievous.

“Orgasms.”

Oh, right.

Right, yeah, that totally makes NO FUCKING SENSE.

Namjoon rational brain was trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, but his lizard brain was telling him to put your head onto his raging, now exposed hard-on that was currently being touched and jacked by your hands. He sucked in a breath, looking down, still very confused, but now preoccupied with your breasts pressed up to his naked ass and your arms winding around his hips, rubbing the pre-cum all over his stiff length, your hard nipples rubbing against the back of his thighs.

It was very disorienting.

He was very horny.

“You’re, um, not really dead or anything, right? Please tell me you’re not.”

You laughed brightly. “Nah. It’s part of the experience.” Right. Experience. This was either very good CGI or some unexplainable hocus pocus and Namjoon was beginning to think it was the latter. “Remember what I said? Everyone goes in and no one comes out the same.” No wonder the reviews were vague. How was he supposed to explain this? My fuckbuddy materialized as a headless being and I had an immense, uncontrollable urge to fuck her. And am probably going to. Right now. Yeah, no. He was going to keep this to himself.

Yeah, maybe Namjoon was about to develop a Headless Horseman kink.

“So… this isn’t real?”

You popped out of his hand, floating.

Uh…!

You tilted your head, grinning. “You tell me if this feels real or not.”

“What – oh, fuck!”

Your head swooped down, your hair flaring out and then your tongue was on him, wrapping around the swollen head of his cock, dripping saliva everywhere and, despite the literal millions of questions his very wrinkly brain had for trying to rationalize what the fuck was going on, Namjoon’s horny brain was now on full-blast, squashing all the questions and cramming them into the part of the brain labelled, Random Things to Remember at Inopportune Times Such as Existential Crisis Moments Right Before Bed.

Yes, at this moment, Namjoon decided he did not care about anything but getting his dick sucked.

It might not have been the most lucid choice, but he wasn’t even sure if this was real life and, anyway, Namjoon never turned down a sex dream no matter how weird it was. It certainly didn’t feel like a dream. He was looking down and it felt very real, watching your head under his length and he felt the warmth of your wet pink tongue flick upwards and curl around his girth, felt your spit-covered hands coating him all over, a tight, unhindered grip. It was an unbelievable angle, but your head wasn’t attached to your body, remember – oh, that was a weird thing to remember – but how else would he be able to feel your hard nipples rubbing all over his ass while you were stroking his cock and have you lick his balls with minimal effort, able to get lower and suck them both in your mouth, ho-o-oly shit, tongue circling the sensitive skin and the red head of his cock rubbing against your forehead, in complete ecstasy but also vaguely wondering how you hands knew what to do.

Stop wondering Namjoon, it’s magic, who the fuck cares?

Well, okay, he accepted that answer for now.

“Just, fuck, put it in your mouth!”

He grabbed your head and pressed the tip into your lips, forcing his way into your mouth. Your hands let him go, sliding down, cupping his wet balls with wet hands, and he moaned, forcing his way down your throat, ugh, you always took him so well, always with those pretty eyes looking up at him, throat tight and willing, a tiny bit of defiance but succumbing to his thrusts the rougher they were, knowing exactly what he liked, massaging his balls with perfect precision, something you couldn’t do when being face-fucked – there were bodily limits after all, you always had to hold onto his thighs to keep your head still – but not now, not now because your head was still in his hands, sorcery or whatever, who the fuck cared, deeper, rough, strong, everything you liked, moaning in your throat, vibrating him, your nails raking the underside of his wet balls, oh, fuuuck, that’s so good, oh shit, circling the sensitive skin, tingles up his spine that melded with the constant pleasure of your tight, wet throat and, well.

You could probably…

Fuck it.

Namjoon let go of your head.

Yup, your head kept moving.

This was all very surreal but he tried not to think about it too much.

“Come here,” he growled.

He gripped your shoulder and dragged you around, pulling off the unbuttoned nightgown and revealing your naked body – mmm, headless or not, still sexy, bruh, this was weird – stepping back and pushing your body into the armchair. He was careful not to hit your head… still sucking to his dick, oh, f-fuck, that thing you did with your tongue running up from base to the head felt amazing, and grabbed your ass, pulling you up, your hands gripping the armrests of the chair, arms trembling as he planted his face into your wet pussy.

The traditional sixty-nine was great, but not exactly the most optimal to get the most pleasurable position of eating out and sucking dick. You could get the best positions in a threesome, but Namjoon didn’t want a threesome. He wanted your mouth and your pussy. That wasn’t possible, under normal circumstances.

Unless…?

Unless your head was detached from your body, eh?

Oh dear, maybe he did have a Headless Horseman kink.

The time to be worried about the weirdness of his kinks was not now, because, as usual, you tasted like delectable sin itself, thick and sweet and viscous, sticking to his cheeks and mouth, making him moan and thrust into your mouth, so tight and soft, fuck, he loved your tight mouth and soft lips. He shoved his tongue inside you, oh, yes, so delicious, your moan stimulating his entire length and your pussy leaking into his mouth, his tongue circling your entrance, flicking that hard nub that made you whimper and plead for him, bucking his hips into your face to shut you up, rough but he knew you could take it, especially because your approval gushed into his mouth. He had so much control like this, fuck, it was addicting, closing his lips around your sensitive clit, sucking hard, feeling it throb under his tongue and get bigger, lapping at it rapidly, precision and power, thrusting his hips in time with his tongue, your taste in his throat and feeding his pleasure, your hips shaking in his hands.

He was so close so fast.

It took no time at all.

Your mouth at the perfect position, your pussy perfectly in his face, swollen clit at the mercy of his tongue, sucking hard, his twitching cock buried into your constricting throat, wet balls smacking your chin, your tongue sliding up and rubbing against the slit before going back down and choking yourself with his thick girth.

Namjoon groaned into your pussy, sucking hard.

You whined and he shot into your throat, forcing you to swallow or choke, and you chose to swallow of course, flooding his chin and cheeks with a splatter of your juices, sticky and delicious, forcing him to lick it off or breathe and he chose to lick it off, moaning, feeling your tongue circle around him, drinking his cum in loud gulps, yelping as he lowered your hips and attached his mouth to your nipples, licking them all over, pinching the other, squeezing the hard nub.

Your mouth detached from him, head floating back up.

“H-Hey…! My head might be detached, but I can still f-feel everything!”

“Yeah?” Namjoon chuckled, realizing his voice was now gravelly and excessively deep, but he remembered you liked that. “You can feel this?”

He gripped both of your hard nipples and tugged up, clamping them between his fingertips.

“A-Ah, y-yes, I caaaaaaan…”

He cocked an eyebrow. A thought crossed his mind. “Do I need a condom?”

Your face was twisted in pleasure, but you gave him an incredulous look regardless. “Namjoon, my head isn’t attached to my fucking body. I’m pretty sure pregnancy is out of the question.”

Oh, right.

He plunged his still-hard cock between your spread-open legs.

“Gah!”

He let go of your nipples and grabbed your head, kissing you, tasting himself in your lips, slapping his hips into you. Oh, fuck, he always dreamed about this, maybe (intact) you would let him at some point, but for the moment he was going to savor your delicious, raw pussy sucking him in, every ridge and pulse pleasuring him from head to base, his entire length in pure ecstasy, pulling you away from his face, grinning, crazy ideas flying through his head.

“Suck my balls.”

You gawked at him. “How the fuck–?”

Even you seemed to forget your head was detached.

Namjoon arced his arm around and shaved your face into his ass, slapping his hips down into yours. He grabbed your hands and pushed them to your tits, your body getting the hint, kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples, your moans vibrating his nuts as your tongue flew over them sloppily, licking yourself and him, saliva everywhere, messy, dirty, and Namjoon realized that there was a big downside to all this despite the vast amount of pleasure he was getting from your lips wrapping around one of his balls as he steadily and powerfully pounded your pussy.

He missed seeing your face.

Weird skin-covered neck stump was not doing it for him.

Er.

Thus, he chose to stare at your tits, his hands on the armrests of your chair, much better, your pretty hands on your pretty breasts playing with your nipples, focusing on the way you clenched around him and your agile tongue flickering over his balls and grazing his asshole, do it, lick me all over dirty girl, this was a fantasy anyway, right, and you did, warm wet tongue circling the tight ring of muscle, holy shit, sucking on his balls and his ass, reaching back with one hand and spreading himself out to give you more access, hitting that depth and your walls choking him, and he was there, there, orgasm so fast and so hard. He bellowed your name so loudly that it filled up the entire library, the coil inside him snapping, his cock jerking inside you, fierce pumps filling you deep inside, hearing the lewd squelch of punching his own cum deeper into you with every continued thrust, your walls shuddering and throbbing around him, spilling your release onto his crotch and down his balls for your waiting mouth to lick up.

Wow.

Future Namjoon would be very jealous of past Namjoon as he continued to slowly thrust into you, getting himself hard again, because why the fuck not creampie you?

“Er, can your head come back up here? I miss your face…”

“Oh, yeah, sure, but that’s a bit normal, isn’t it? We should try all the weird stuff when I’m like this, no?”

“One normal orgasm and then we’ll go back to experimenting, okay?”

“Oookay…”

Before your head returned, Namjoon spotted a crystal sitting on the mantle, sitting beside the worn-out book. He must have missed it earlier. It was greenish-blue with tinges of pink in the firelight, glimmering like the aurora borealis in the darkness.

Your face came into view and he looked away, capturing you in a kiss.

kim seokjin.

“Okay, Seokjin, you can do this. You can. There’s light there. It’s fine. It’s fine.”

Kim Seokjin peered down the dark stone hallway and heard the sound of dripping water.

“Yeah, FUCK NO, LET ME OUT!”

He spun around and came face-to-face with the stone wall, about to beat his fists against it, but then he would injure his beautiful hands and fighting rock wasn’t exactly his forte, so he resorted to yelling at it.

“Yah! I know you have cameras here!” His eyes darted to the corners of the hall, peering at the crevices of stone, searching for the glare of a lens. “Where is camera? Eh? I know there has to be one!” There had to be, otherwise how would they guarantee the safety of this billion-won face?! Not that Seokjin had a billion won – yet – but it wasn’t out of the realm of question!

“H-Hey! This isn’t funny! Well, they didn’t say it was going to be funny, they said it was going to be scary… hey! I don’t like scary! Then why did you come, Seokjin? I don’t know, she was acting really cute and everyone else was coming with me, so I figured it would be okay, but now I’m separated and I don’t know how I got here…”

This was a very impressive monologue. Someone better be filming this so he could submit it as an audition tape later.

Focus, Seokjin!

“Um…”

He edged down the hallway, back to the stone. He wiggled forward slightly, getting closer and closer to the corner.

“Hello?”

There was light past the corner. He could see it, silvery moonlight that pooling out. He could only see part of it. He would have to look around the corner to see more.

“H-Hello?”

It echoed a little. The sound of dripping water was faint, probably at the far, far side of the room.

“If you’re a spooky person, I’ll fight you! I’m not the bravest but I’m too handsome to die and the main character can’t die!”

Right?

Seokjin looked up at the ceiling and mouthed, you better not let me die, not at least without eating a delicious meal beforehand, I want medium rare steak, a huge piece, I’m talking ginormous–

His talk with the higher beings was interrupted by the sound of your name.

Seokjin shrieked and jumped his length in height.

“AAAAAAA!”

Wait.

“Namjoon?!”

He recognized that strong, deep voice. Oh, sweet alpacas with red scarves, he was saved!

“Namjoon! Namjoon-ah, hyung is coming! Please save me!”

Okay, he sounded braver until the last declaration, but that didn’t matter because Seokjin was running, his black cardigan flapping over his thick white sweater, it was kind of cold here, yeesh, skidding on his sneakers as he rounded the corner, hoping to fall into Kim Namjoon’s massive chest and biceps, but he did not.

Instead, he encountered a huge, ginormous cavern.

“W-Whoa!”

Was he underground? Holy shit, this thing was HUGE, bigger than his admiration for his own face (impressive). Seokjin took a few steps inward, jaw dropped, looking at the walls that shimmered with greens and blues. The grey stone here seemed to have crystals embedded in it. He ran his fingers over it, entranced by the unique color, and looked up to see the domed cavern, the geodes connecting to create a vein-like pattern that circled around the top opening way, way up there, exposing the night sky of stars and a full moon covered in tendrils of red.

Well.

Seokjin could not do one pull-up, let alone rock climb his ass up there.

Shit.

The blue-green crystals shimmered and seemed to pulse with glimmers of pink, similar to an aurora borealis.

“How did that house hide this huge room?” he wondered out loud, shuffling his way downward. The floor sloped down but he was too busy staring up to search for an exit – or a camera. Any evidence at all that someone was watching.

Please, someone be watching and ensure my safety.

“Namjoon?” Seokjin called again, remembering that he somehow heard his friend’s voice, finally lowering his head to look in front of him. He was at the center of the massive rock cavern now.

He did not see Namjoon.

Seokjin saw himself.

“Gah!”

He jumped back and the other person jumped back. Whoa! Wait. He frowned and the other person frowned. Hold up. He scooted a little closer and stuck his tongue out and waved his hands. The other person did the same.

Oh. It was his reflection.

Seokjin checked his hair, arranging the black strands and exposing a little of his forehead. Nice. “Wow, friend, you look great today! Very handsome!” Yes, maybe he was going to die, but he was not going to die without a compliment, even if he was complimenting himself. There was no one else he could coerce, ahem, gently remind to provide him with words of affirmation, so Seokjin was simply going to have to do it himself.

“What a weird place to put a mirror though,” he mumbled, gazing at the thick, intricate gold frame. “At least it’s being put to good use though, haha! After all, I am here to check and see if it still works, right? Someone has to do it, ehe!”

Yes, Seokjin was talking to himself to ease his compounding nervousness, please send help, he was about to have a mental breakdown in two seconds. He tried to focus on something else, like the details in front of him. The mirror was very large and stood alone in the center of the cavern. It towered above him, hand-carved floral pattern all over, arched frame with extended posts at the top corners. The center tapered to a point, grooved spokes framing a grape-shaped decorative wooden onlay.

He paused, seeing writing at the top of the mirror. Seokjin squinted. It appeared to be some sort of notice. A sign, perhaps. He placed his hands on his hips and frowned at it.

“Hmph. Well, that sign can’t stop me because I can’t read!”

He looked down and Korean splashed across the mirror.

“Oi!”

Apparently, the mirror came with subtitles.

The Mirror of Erised erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

Okay, never mind.

“What kind of shitty Korean translation is this? Yah, did you use Google Translate? At least use Papago!”

The text disappeared as Seokjin waved his fist and yelled at the clouds in the sky above him.

“Sheesh…”

He sighed and lowered his gaze again, looking back at the mirror.

It was not him in the mirror.

Well… it was. And it wasn’t. Because that was his face… but softer, more feminine features. And that was his hair, but longer, framing the symmetrical face, large brown eyes, long lashes, full lips. And the body… was not his body. The body was wearing a long, black silk robe that clung to all the curves. Seokjin recognized that body, because it was his favorite – other than his own – his favorite that belonged to a great laugh, one that he treasured very much. A bright laugh that accompanied his shitty dad jokes when no one else would.

Maybe to boost his pride, but Seokjin didn’t care, because you were doing it for him.

It was his favorite body and just looking at it made his heart race and heat pool downward.

He reached up and touched his fingertips to the reflective glass, calling your name softly.

“Hey, Seokjin.”

That was definitely your voice.

You raised your left hand touched the glass too, and he could almost feel the heat of your fingertips.

“Wha… What are you doing in there?” he asked, concerned, placing his other hand on the glass. “And why do you have my face? What’s going on?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing in here?” You frowned, confused. “This is your test.”

Test? Oh, right. He was in the haunted house with that weird beaky Doctor… person. The waiver said something about a test. Wait. Was he still even in the haunted house? How did a house have such a big cave? Was he in an alternate dimension? Ugh. This was too much. Seokjin liked simple thoughts. Too much thinking was Namjoon’s job, not his job. His job was to stand there and look pretty and occasionally cook a delicious feast.

“Guh?”

Great response, Seokjin. If acting school taught you anything it was to speak from the heart and, by golly, what a heart you got there with your ever expressive ‘guh,’ your professor would have a hissy fit and make you redo the scene.

“This is a mirror that shows your greatest desire,” you explained.

His eyes widened. “R-Really?”

You furrowed your – his? – eyebrows.

“What do you mean, why do I have you face?”

Seokjin backed up a little. “Er…”

Your eyes widened, pointing at him. “Your greatest desire is to fuck a female version of yourself with my body?!”

Bullseye, right to the heart, panic, panic, panic, deny, deny, deny!

“What, n-no, whatever gave you t-that idea, I – why are you in there anyway, shouldn’t I be trying to get you out, ahahahahahahaha–”

“Seokjin!”

“It might be nice?!” he yelped shrilly, immediately giving up, waving his arms. “I mean, it’s not gonna happen or anything, so pfft, who cares, it’s just a very ridiculous, absurd fantasy–”

Your arm plunged forward, through the glass of the mirror, and grabbed his arm, yanking him into the mirror.

You pulled him…

INTO THE MIRROR.

“What the fuh–!”

A weird tingly sensation exploded through him and suddenly he was in a completely different room with a huge white bed, naked, and overwhelmingly horny. He coughed, incredibly confused, highly, extremely, exceedingly aware that his dick was smashed into your silk-covered hip, his brain trying to catch up with whatever the fuck was happening. So many questions. How did he walk through the magic mirror? Did he have magical powers? Was he actually Harry Potter – no, he would look better in the glasses for sure – then, why was he suddenly naked? Did phasing through mirror remove all clothing and could he get them back at some point, because quite frankly he was not ready to bare it all to the public, only figuratively via his acting, not actually, oh and why did you having his face result in him thinking that was incredibly sexy, did that make him a narcissist or simply just validate the idea that if you had his babies, they would come out good-looking?

Wait.

What?

Seokjin was not ready to have babies yet, he was still a child himself in some ways, or at least he thought so.

But.

You looked good?!

Seokjin clutched your arms very tightly and planted you in front of him. “U-Um… w-w-why are we naked?”

“I think we’re supposed to fuck,” was your nonchalant reply to his chest.

Oh, well, naturally, wait, what?!

“Ack, what, is this Doctor person some kind of pervert or–” Seokjin sputtered.

You looked up at him. “I mean, you’re a pervert.”

Seokjin felt his cheeks burn hot. “W-Well, you’re naked!” Oh, dear, he was liking his female face on your body too much, tooooooo much, thank God none of the guys were around to witness this, good thing it was alone…

“I think the Doctor is watching?” You pouted confusedly and Seokjin felt his insides melt. Not that your regular pout wasn’t cute as fuck, but combined with his extra plump lips was creating the perfect picture. “They said they wanted us to be safe and enjoy our time here.”

Seokjin felt his hard dick slide from your covered thigh, right up between your legs.

!!!

“Ahem, um, sorry, it’s, just, you’re wearing this very nice silk robe that’s clinging to your very nice tits and very nice ass and did I mention you have a very nice face, well, I guess it’s my face, erm, your regular face is very beautiful too, I mean, I like looking at it, yah, this is getting weird, I, uh…”

You blinked at him with his eyeballs and eyelashes.

This was very weird, yes.

“I think we’re supposed to fuck.”

Yes, moving on.

“At least, that’s what I did with Namjoon.”

“Oh! You’ve seen Namjoon! How is he? Is he okay? What happened to him?”

You opened your – his? okay, he was going to stop thinking that now – mouth and closed it again abruptly. “I can’t say.”

He frowned. “Why?”

You pointed up. “The waiver. The contract. You can’t say what happened to you in here.”

Seokjin was about to protest and then stopped. Well. He was not about to tell anyone that one of his greatest desires was to fuck a female version of himself that had the hottest body he knew, which happened to be the same fuckbuddy of his six other friends.

No, Seokjin was probably going to keep that information to himself.

“I’m allowed to say we fuck though,” you added brightly. “The Doctor said I could say that. Everybody fucks.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Everybody?”

You screwed up your face in a cute expression of concentration. “Maybe just us. The Doctor said it depends on the spiritual energy of the group. Apparently, we radiate…” You raised your hands to provide air quotes. “Mad horny chaotic energy. Can you believe that? The nerve. That’s not us at all, right Seokjin?”

He found himself humping the space between your thighs, gasping as your juices leaked down onto his length.

“No, that’s absurd. We would never.”

You nodded childishly. “Yeah! Hard agree. By the way, there’s no condoms because there’s some kind of enchanted protection from pregnancy or something. It’s pretty neat.”

A thought crossed his mind. “Well… are you even real? I mean, I don’t want you to get plastic surgery to match my face, that’s super creepy…” He trailed off, trying not to think about it and therefore thinking about it. Yikes.

You shrugged. “Maybe it’s magic? Maybe it’s Maybelline?”

Seokjin blinked rapidly.

“Okay, I just don’t want you to think I don’t like your regular face, because I do, I kind of miss it right now even, however we’re in these circumstances so we might as well–”

You held up a hand. “I gotchu.”

Aha. Ahahaha. He wasn’t about to? No. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. He was dreaming. This was all a very weird, very horny, very – oh, fuck! – real-feeling tongue wrapping itself around his leaking cock and Seokjin jerked his head down to see you sliding down to your knees, adjusting happily before winding your wet, slick, pink tongue – his tongue? no, stop that! oh, sweet alpacas with red scarves, him, Kim Seokjin, Worldwide Handsome himself, was not going to make it – gasping at the ferocious rush of pleasure, so strong it felt as if all of his veins were saturated and bursting with lust.

Did he eat something weird before this? A fucking aphrodisiac? Holy shit!

He did have a sip of Yoongi’s weird ginger tea. If anyone was going to poison him, it would definitely be Yoongi. What? What was he even thinking? Nope, goodbye thoughts, hello thrusting his entire hard dick down your throat and your tongue snaking out to lap at his balls, scooping them to your chin with your hands, watching your eyes roll back a little and stuffing as much of his balls and cock into your mouth and slipping your tongue all over them.

“Oooh, fuck, I, er, you, er, we…? Look really hot sucking dick...?” he sputtered, suddenly dizzy with all the thinking.

It was not that Seokjin didn’t have complex thoughts.

He just didn’t want to have an existential crisis while having sex, okay?

Thankfully, you didn’t react to his weirdness, and soothed all his feelings by letting go of his balls, grabbing his ass, and ramming his dick into your throat at the deepest possible angle. Yes, after that, Seokjin decided to daintily set the existential crisis aside for later and grip your hair and thrust his hips into your face repeatedly, freely moaning and giving up control – not that he had any, he was just trying to be somewhat responsible as the eldest in the group, but the group wasn’t here and he was face-fucking his fantasy, so all responsibility was out the window.

He savored the tightness, the wetness, the way your wet muscles closed in and squeezed the head, the way your flexible tongue followed a different pace and teased the slit every time he pulled back and flicked down the entirety of his length, ah, yes, such soft lips, such an excellent tongue, such delightful whimpering moans that made his core tingle with excitement hearing them. Your fingernails dug into his ass, trying to hold on and he pushed you to the limit, tensing all his muscles tighter and tighter, holding back, closer, longer, deeper, harder thrusts and your palms pressed into his thighs, encouraging him to use your throat, almost, almost, tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling firmly, your whine of pain mixing with his lustful groan, pushing you all the way down and feeling his cock twitch and spill thick streams into your swallowing throat, the motion constricting around the sensitive tip, gasping your name, running his fingers through your hair, his eyes closed, cherishing every single sound you made.

“Seokjin…”

Pulling you up, dirty kisses, tumbling to the mysterious bed, laughing – “Hey, I’m a good kisser, aren’t I?” “Yes, Seokjin, you are an excellent kisser, are you satisfied now that you know?” “Greatly.” – lips on lips again, plush and soft with the familiar pressure and eagerness of your touch and he knew it was you, well, it was hard for it to be not you, especially when he entered you and nearly passed out from the pure ecstasy that was your pussy, and it was his features but your expression, your scent, your moan, your arms hooking around his neck, pushing your hips up to meet him, falling into rhythm, hips smacking into hips, sinking into your hot tightness.

It was a very lewd sound, but Seokjin liked it.

Harder, faster, pounding you into the bed, his eyes but your lust, his name in your voice, the sweetest sound along with your laugh and the way you gripped his hair and gasped, clenching around him and the sweet smell became stronger, slicker, hot pulses that sent him into gasping shudders, slamming his hips down and moaning in your face, his hair all over his eyes, dropping down, capturing your lips, blissful kiss, his hips flinching and squirming as he came inside you, your walls squeezing it out of him, making him dizzy, your tongue dancing across his lips and him forcefully sucking on it, needy whines quivering in your throat.

Now Seokjin concluded several things about himself.

Good kisser? Confirmed. Great expressions when being fucked? Confirmed. Looked great from orgasming? Confirmed – he always worried he might look a bit dumb, but you looked beautiful, so Seokjin was sure he looked handsome.

He picked up your legs and grinned. You blinked at him.

“How much time do we have?”

You shrugged, his cock still inside you. “Until everyone is done, I guess?”

“Oh, awesome, that means we have tons of time!”

min yoongi.

Ah. So, this was how it went.

He tried the door beside him. Locked, of course. Hm. He placed his hand against it and pushed. Heavy wood, not just some cheap particle board. Stained this dark cherry color, not painted. Interesting. He turned around, holding his metal thermos loosely in his hand. The extra-strong ginger tea he made wasn’t for him. It was for whenever any of his friends asked for a drink so he could watch them recoil in disgust and cough. Sadistic? No. Prankster? Maybe. Hotel?

Not Trivago by the looks of this run-down room.

Min Yoongi took in his surroundings carefully. Shelves upon shelves of strange little knickknacks. Crystals. Tarot cards. Strange coins he had never seen before, old books with worn-out bindings, the shed skin of a rattlesnake. He squinted at it, seeing the diamond pattern. Hm. There were lit pillar candles in pewter candleholders everywhere, their flames flickering when he moved past them. A fire hazard for sure with all this wood around them. Tsk, tsk. Yoongi noticed the shelf brackets were intricately carved wood.

Leaf designs with clusters of grapes.

He turned to the center of the room. There was a table with a black tablecloth on it. Nothing else. Two chairs, study wood with black leather cushioning.

It must have something to do with his test.

Yoongi wasn’t a purveyor of the spooky, but he was fine with it. It did not scare him, although it did sometimes surprise him. He mostly came because you asked. Anything you asked and wasn’t completely ridiculous, he would do.

That was what Yoongi decided he would do and so he followed though.

This wasn’t what he expected for a haunted house, but that made it more interesting. He didn’t really like jump scares anyway. Being separated from everyone wasn’t ideal, but it did make sense. It made everyone’s experience unique and there was fear in being alone. Yoongi could see that.

Something shiny caught his eye.

He walked over to it, to the other side of the room. It was a sheriff’s badge, or what appeared to be a badge. He placed his thermos down on the shelf and picked up the heavy tarnished silver. It was in the shape of a sun with a weird-looking smiley face. He turned it around in his hand and saw something written on the back.

Do you need permission?

Yoongi frowned. “Permission to do what?” he mumbled, putting it back down. He heard a sound behind him and whipped his head around.

There was a black hooded figure sitting at the table now.

Instinct told him to raise his fists immediately.

Then Yoongi thought about it and lowered his fists. He signed some weird paper earlier. Punching an actor would not be advisable. He didn’t have the money for that lawsuit. He wasn’t strong enough to knock anybody out anyway. Yet. He was working on that. Working out with Jungkook, Jimin, and Namjoon was helpful, but he had only recently gotten into it. Also, the hooded figure hadn’t done anything.

Yet.

“Who are you?” Yoongi asked, keeping his eyes on the darkness of the opening.

No answer.

He didn’t really expect one but he figured he’d ask anyway.

Well, might as well get this over with. Yoongi took each step carefully, one by one, circling the table to the other chair, not turning his back on the figure. It reminded motionless, the heavyweight black cloak covering everything. It seemed pretty clear what he was supposed to do.

Yoongi sat down at the table, straightening his leather jacket with a loud jingle of zippers.

Underneath, a black sweater with holes in it and black jeans with a chain. Thick-soled black boots with silver hardware. Fashion, or something like that. Yoongi liked to look nice. It made him feel calmer when he felt more like himself. You always complimented him on his style, so he tried not to look sloppy.

“Sssssss.”

Uh.

Somehow, his brain auto-translated the hissing sound as if he was watching Netflix.

Show me your hand, palm up.

Uhhh. Hm. Maybe he misheard? Yoongi narrowed his eyes, tilting his head and trying to look under the black hood. It was no use. The candles were not enough light and there were no windows in this room. Alright. It was getting a little weird, but that was the whole schtick, right? If he knew what the sound meant, then he had to choose to do what it said or not.

Yoongi placed his hand on the table, palm up.

The shoulders raised as if the figure was inhaling, and the sides rose, large sleeves lifting. A pair of hands emerged from the openings and Yoongi almost drew back his hand seeing the long, pointed nails that seemed to be covered in crystals. The fingers spread out, reaching towards him, and he stopped, the nail crystals shimmering in the candlelight. Green, blue and even pink, like the light of an aurora borealis.

He knew those hands.

Yoongi looked up to the hood and furrowed his brow as your hands cupped his hand, pulling it across the table. He could be wrong. How could you get a manicure so fast? This wasn’t that kind of establishment, although perhaps at this point that would be the least weird thing about this place.

Also.

You were hissing at him and that was weird.

What was even weirder was that he was understanding you.

“The lines of your palm reveal your true self.”

He looked at it. “Which line says I want to go home and go to bed?”

“This one.”

He raised his eyebrows. “There’s an actual line?”

The finger turned around and Yoongi laughed out loud.

You were flipping him off.

The other hand quickly reached up and pulled back the hood, revealing your face. Yoongi heard the sounds, a wispy sort of laugh that mirrored yours, and his own laugh, a little raspy and wry, only for his laugh to die in his throat as he stared at your face that was not quite your face.

Your eyes slid down to look at him, unlinking, bright yellow with slitted pupils.

Uh.

Your hair was pushed back, sleek, slicked against your head as if wet, and your face had a faint pattern around your temples. Like scales.

Snakeskin scales.

You smiled at him, pink tongue flickering.

Oookay, either this place had some insane special effects makeup or he was on acid right now. Not that Yoongi had ever taken acid or could even guess what that felt like, but there must be a hallucinogen in the air because you had fangs and an extra-long tongue and Yoongi would call himself a kinky freak, sure, but…

Well.

He did always say he loved your tongue.

“Hey, Yoongi.”

He said your name very slowly and very deliberately, not quite believing it was you, but he had a strong, strong feeling it was, and Yoongi’s dick was telling him it was you, and he trusted him since his dick didn’t wake up for much. Just like him.

What?

He had high standards and didn’t waste his time with the talentless.

“Should I ask what happened to your face or is it a result of this place?” he asked, tilting his head.

You seemed to sigh with relief. “Oh, great, I don’t have to explain everything again. You always catch on fast, Yoongi.”

“I am a genius.”

You smiled playfully. He liked your smile. He wasn’t going to tell you that, of course. That would be embarrassing. And Yoongi wasn’t embarrassing. Yeah. Anyway. Moving on. Yes, distract from awkward thoughts with the purpose at hand. Yup.

“Is this my test?”

You snapped your fingers, hissing pleasingly. “Ah, yes. Your test, your experience, your…” You trailed off.

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow.

You pointed to him. “You’re not allowed to tell anyone about what’s going to happen.”

He tucked his tongue in his cheek. “Why not?”

“You signed the waiver.”

He hummed. “Mmm, what Is the Doctor going to do? Send a legal team after me?”

“Yoongi…”

He grinned, highly amused. “Come on, no one is gonna believe me that my favorite plaything grew snake-like facial features. It’s not going to matter if I say anything or not.”

You pouted at him. “I’m not a plaything.”

Yoongi softened his grin to a gentle smile.

“I know. I will always want you in my life no matter what.”

Your lips parted, staring wide-eyed at him.

He smirked, beckoning you with the fingers of his right hand on the table. “Come here. Let me show you.”

Then you did something really weird, even for Yoongi.

You unclasped the cloak, revealing your naked breasts underneath, and crawled onto the table, the lower half of your body slithering towards him.

His eyes shot wide open, seeing the skin between your belly button meld into scales – snake scales, glittering dark teal-green, so dark it was almost black, flexible body sliding from side to side, closer and closer, heavy thud and curl of your snake tail flicking the air, your human legs gone.

Gone.

Yoongi held up his hand very quickly, signaling the time-out.

“Explain.”

You looked down. “Ah. Oh. I’m a snake.”

His eyes darted to your face, disbelieving. “Hah. That doesn’t explain shit.”

You placed a hand on your, er, snake tail and shrugged. “Er… would you believe me if I said I wasn’t surprised by now?”

Yoongi felt his eyebrows shoot up into his hair.

“I can’t elaborate about it,” you grumbled. “Contracts and red tape and stuff.” You pointed up to the ceiling. “The Doctor says I’m not allowed to say.” He gave you a look that indicated he did not give two shits about the Doctor and the shady papers. “Come on, Yoongi, you signed the paper too.”

He thinned his eyes and mouth into lines.

Then, lightbulb.

“The Doctor picked you on purpose.”

You blinked confusedly. “What do you mean? I offered myself as tribute.”

Yoongi looked at you and then he looked at the wooden ceiling above him. There was nothing to see, not even a camera lens or a carved peephole, but you were somehow a half-snake lady sitting on a table so Yoongi figured rational rules of physics did not apply.

“You knew, huh? How did you know?” he asked the ceiling. The ceiling did not answer.

“Yoongi, what are you talking about?”

He lowered his head and locked eyes with you, feeling that he was right even though he didn’t have the real answer.

“Come on. Your tits are right in front of my face, and I’m already harder than fucking diamond in my pants. I’m horny for you in general, but this is different, like I’m being lured to fuck you, injected with so much lust that I somehow forget you’re a half-snake lady and bang you anyway – which I will, don’t get me wrong,” he added, then tilting his head up, squinting at the ceiling. “But they must have known somehow, because I would not want to fuck half-snake Jungkook if he somehow ended up being the sacrifice instead.”

“Really?”

He snapped his head down and glared at you.

“Okay, I was just asking… He’s cute and stuff…”

“Virgins aren’t my thing. That’s your thing,” he remarked, deadpan.

“I don’t have a virgin kink! And Jungkook wasn’t even a virgin the first time! Stop spreading misinformation!”

Yoongi caught your chin and pulled you down to his face, licking his teeth. “Yeah, but he pretends to act all innocent until he doesn’t and you like that.”

“No, I–”

But he didn’t let you finish, leaning forward and giving in, lips touching lips, and the reaction was instant, an electric kiss that soared through his entire body, lighting every nerve with vibrating want, even more so than usual, with the softness of your kiss turning rougher and more needy, to the way your hands came up and grabbed his head, long nails combing through his hair, and he was in your hold now, your grip, your constriction.

Yoongi trusted it, because it was you.

Your deft tongue flickered by his lips and he opened his mouth, gasping a little as it slid inside, his own tongue grazing the points of your fangs, and there was something else, something dripping from your saliva, a strange taste, seeping into his throat. Sweet but fiery. And now his clothes were too tight, too hot, too much, throwing his leather jacket off, the feeling spreading from his mouth and traveling downwards, similar to a numbing sensation, but this was something that increased the sensations, made them more intense, almost unbearable.

He broke the kiss, panting hard.

“You… Poison? But it’s more like an aphrodisiac…?”

He couldn’t even think straight.

You pulled your head back, pink tongue sliding out and Yoongi realized it was, indeed, extra-long and shiny, dripping saliva, and he wanted it on his dick.

Now.

“I like you, Yoongi,” you hissed defiantly, lowering yourself as he yanked his sweater over his head, throwing it onto the chair, breathing hard as he fought his jeans. He very nearly forgot he had been teasing you earlier. It was just something he did. He liked to see you squirm and argue and push back against him so he could fuck out your irritation and switch to desperately holding onto him, wanting him more than anyone else in that moment. He knew you liked him. You wouldn’t come back if you didn’t.

Yoongi simply wanted to hear you say that you liked him.

Strangely, this table was slightly lower than hip length. How convenient. Or maybe he had very long legs. He did have very long legs. Yoongi pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs, all the way down to his knees and ticked his head, smirking as your eyes drifted downward.

“Oh? You wanna show me how much you like me?”

You grinned, serpentine.

A small part of him thought he should be worried about the fangs and whatnot, but then again this was leaning much closer to ‘really fucking weird internet porno written fanatically at one in the morning’ rather than ‘possible violent mutilation’. Not sure why he was getting those vibes, maybe it was something in the air or the way you dipped down and slithered towards him, tongue extending and then wrapping around the entire length of his dick.

Realistic? No.

Hot as fuck? Yes, feeling his eyes widening, staring down as you wriggled closer, pink tongue wound around his dick in a spiral, bobbing your head back and forth. Powerful, tight, very precise control. This Doctor person was taking some serious creative liberties, but Yoongi was grateful for it. Snake lady sex? Not a kink he considered, no. Snake lady sex with his favorite fuckbuddy and who he would also consider a close friend (but possibly avoid telling you that to your face at all costs) with her excellent tits hanging off the edge of the table and his cock being choked by an unreasonably long tongue with some kind of aphrodisiac saliva that sent him into an almost dreamlike state of euphoria?

Okay. Yoongi could get on board with that.

Probably not something he was going to talk about with anyone later, no.

Damn.

Alright, Doc. You got me.

Before Yoongi could pursue his mental appreciation for the brilliance of the clever beaky mastermind, you swallowed his dick.

“Oh, fuck!”

Your hands came up to cup his ass and push him forward, sliding him down your throat, and Yoongi could get pretty damn far thanks to your skill with angles but something was happening. He heard a light pop sound and he jerked forward, so deep in your throat that he surely must have hit your gag reflex. He grasped your shoulders, stabilizing himself.

Holy fucking shit.

You just unhinged your jaw.

You. Just. UNHINGED. Your. Jaw?!

Wait.

You were part-snake. Did snakes gag? They swallowed their prey whole, sometimes prey much, much larger than them. Unlikely they gagged in the human sense, anyway. Oh. O-o-oh. Yoongi looked up at the ceiling.

Thanks, you weird beaky omnipresent sex god.

You moaned and swirled your tongue around his balls, sucking one into your lips to join his cock. Yoongi jerked his head down, gasping for breath, fixated on the bulge in your cheeks and his cock encased in your throat. He was not a biologist, nor did he give a rat’s ass about biology right now, too busy trying to comprehend how your tongue was circling his other nut and squeezing it as you began to forcefully suck and ram his cock down your neck with one of his nuts in your mouth in the process.

To say this was completely unexpected was an understatement.

“Oh, shit, harder, mmm, fuck, just like that, fuck!”

He was usually very calm and collected but, given the situation, that was an abandoned endeavor, too lost in the repeated wave after wave of immense, spine-tingling pleasure, so much slippery saliva, so much control, so tight but soft, and the end was coming so fast, so fast, trying to hold out, gripping your head, throwing his head back, desperate groans falling from his lips, expletives, your name, praises, all of it, ugh, he liked you so much, so fucking much, no matter what kind of new outlandish-sounding sex technique – or straight-up new body – you were trying, you always did everything so well and with such confidence that it blew him away, it really did, no matter if afterward you admitted you were apprehensive at the start. He admired that trait, he admired you, and you were really so fucking good at sucking dick.

Too fucking good.

“F-Fuck!”

Yoongi gasped and thrust his hips into your face, all the way down, and moaned loudly as he came down your throat, shuddering, borderline whine as you swallowed around him, muscles easing in a slow wave all over his jerking length, pulsing massage to milk it out of him, your tongue wiggling around his balls, lapping at them in a figure-eight that sent him into chain moans of blinding pleasure, legs shaking, flinching as he felt something slide behind him, touching his hot skin, cool scales to lean against, curling around him to hold him up.

Human flexibility was trash, Yoongi decided.

You slowly released him, licking up his torso, soft kisses, slithering up his chest, rising to his face, lips to lips, tasting himself with a satisfied hiss, hands on your face and your tail wrapping around him, pulling him close.

“Hey, uh…”

“Hm?” he hummed, savoring the moment.

“I don’t, uh… have a human pussy. Or asshole.”

Yoongi blinked. “How do snakes excrete waste then?”

You stuck out your hands and made a pained face. “I don’t think I’m in this form long enough to have to figure out how to go to the bathroom. But!” You brightened, pushing your breasts together and sticking your tongue out. Saliva dripped off the tip, falling into the crevice of your cleavage, the strong wet muscle quivering. “Eh? You down?”

Yoongi cocked his head, grinning. “Heck yeah, I’m down.”

Yes, a tit-fuck with the head of his cock wrapped in that tongue sounded fucking fantastic.

jung hoseok.

“Ugh, nooo, where is everyone, Smile Hoya is going to become Frown Hoya at this rate, waaah…”

Jung Hoseok was in prison.

Okay, he wasn’t in actual prison, but he was in a weird place with metal barred-off sections and stone walls. If that didn’t scream prison, what the fuck did?! He did not want to walk in here, but he had lost all his friends and it was either turn into a ghost while standing there petrified or turn into a ghost looking for his friends. What if his friends needed him? He didn’t think he was much help, but the thought of the younger ones freaking out all on their own was very worrisome so Hoseok sucked it up and slunk to the floor, crawling his way throughout the halls, calling their names in a despairing wail.

Yes, Hoseok could admit it. He was a scaredy-cat.

He did not like bugs, he did not like jump scares, he did not like this at all, but Namjoon and Jungkook had promised to protect him and now they were gone. Gone! At this point, he would have settled for Seokjin-hyung or Jimin to simply grab and cry with.

Ugh, Hoseok needed people. He did not like being alone at all.

He heard a quiet sniffle.

“A-Ah! Who’s t-t-there…?”

Wait. Why was he scared? Someone was crying. He edged towards the sound, still wary, but mildly worried, crouching and tiptoeing forward. It was going from the very end of the hall. This was very realistic. Too realistic. At least there was light in every cell, a window with iron bars that allowed large patches of moonlight to cascade over the floor. There were small puddles here and there, reflections of water that shimmered greenish-blue and, if he tilted his head, sometimes even pink, glimmering like the rays of an aurora borealis.

He heard water dripping nearby.

Drip.

“H-Hello?” he whimpered, scared for an answer.

Drop.

“H-Hoseok?”

That voice! He knew that voice! But hadn’t you gone with that Doctor person to the end of the haunted house? Did that mean he was at the end already? Oh, whew, it was over! He had only been alone for a short time and it was already over! Hoseok sprang up and ran to your voice, calling you name, skidding to a stop at the end. This cell was even open! Wow, how lucky! He clambered inside to the crouched form in the corner of the cell, sitting on the mattress wrapped in a thick black blanket.

“Hey, why are you on the floor–?”

You lifted your head and Hoseok fell over.

“W-Whoa!”

On top of your head, sticking out of your hair, was a pair of furry, rounded dog ears. Light brown, with black spots. They flicked back and forth, flattening at his reaction.

“Do I look scary…?” you whimpered, eyes shimmering. Puppy eyes.

“N-No, I just… didn’t expect the dog ears!” He reached up, almost scared to touch them. They popped back up, startling him a little. They looked so soft though. His fingers creeped forward and touched one, surprised at the heated velvetiness. “Wow, what a cool costume…” He followed the curve, down to your scalp, expecting to feel a headband or hair clip.

His fingertip hit your skin.

“… Eh?”

The ear was attached to your head.

“AAAAAAA!”

You yelped, cramming your hand over your ears, retreating further into the corner. “Don’t yell, please! My hearing is really good now!”

“T-They’re attached to your head! W-W-What, h-h-how?!”

You sat back up, still holding your ears against your head. Something was clinking around your neck. A heavy chain collar. Hoseok squinted at it. The tag was in the shape of a sun with a weird-looking smiley face. Strange. It jingled every time you moved.

You shrugged, lips twisting in a triangle pout. “I don’t know. I guess that’s part of the experience?”

Hoseok blinked rapidly. He was about to ask more questions, but then he heard a soft thump-thump, looking down to nearly faint again as he saw the long, sweeping black and tan tail sticking out from under the blanket.

“But I’m so glad to see you, Hoseok! I feel like I’ve been sitting here forever…”

Oh. Was that because he was blubbering and whimpering all his way down here? Oops… “Where are the others? Have you seen anyone else?”

You opened your mouth. Then you closed it, looking up at the sky. Hoseok looked up too, confused, seeing only the stone ceiling. He looked back down and you were thinning your eyes and mouth into lines, grumbling.

“I’ve seen Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi,” you said. "But I can’t explain, because it’s part of the contract and wavier we signed.”

He felt the blood drain out of his face. “Are they dead?!”

You waved a hand, laughing a little. “No, no! They’re totally alive.” You gave him this look. “Very alive.” Wiggled your eyebrows. “Living their best lives.”

Question marks popped over his head. “Eh?”

“Never mind,” you corrected hastily. “Anyway, they all passed their tests but, um, I don’t know how you’re going to pass yours.”

“T-T-Test?” Hoseok had completely forgotten about the mention of any sort of test. “Like an escape room? Oh, shit, I’m terrible at those… I don’t even know what clues to look for, should I have been looking for clues…?”

“Er, no, you would be good at this test, I think…”

“Dance? Do I have permission to dance my way out of this?!”

“Ah, physical, yes, but not dancing…”

Big question mark now. “Huh?”

“Sex, Hoseok. You’re good at sex.”

Exclamation points. “I am? I am! Oh, wow, really? You think so? I think you’re better actually, my favorite thing about you is your eyes, they’re so pretty and expressive.”

Your cheeks flushed pink. “R… Really?” You tucked a spare strand of hair behind your ear shyly. “T-Thanks… I never thought about my eyes m-much…”

He thought about them. He thought about them a lot, actually. They were greatly expressive eyes that hid no emotion, let it be happiness, annoyance, sadness, anything. Maybe it was because you were around them, because you were definitely more guarded when you were around strangers. You used to chase all sorts of guys – well, usually guys who wore glasses and were studying big scary-sounding degrees – but not anymore. Now you only hung around them and you seemed much brighter and more content. Sometimes you suggested such crazy stuff – such as a haunted house, yeah, Hoseok found that crazy – but he found himself going along with it because you just seemed so happy.

He always wanted you to be happy.

“Ah, but… we have a problem.”

Hoseok tilted his head. “What’s the problem?”

You lowered the blanket to your bare shoulders to point to your ears. He felt his heart race a little seeing your exposed collarbones and shoulders. The collar was kind of cute too…

“Um…” You pointed to the sky. “The Doctor says I’m not a dog.”

Back to the question marks popping up in his brain. “But, the tail? The ears?”

You winced. “The Doctor said I’m a spotted hyena.”

And then Hoseok noticed your sharper teeth, your slightly pointed fingernails, and the darkness of your irises. “O… Oh?” He scratched his head. “Okay. That’s still a dog, no?”

You pointed to the sky. “Apparently, they’re more like cats than dogs, according to the Doctor.”

“Whoa, how knowledgeable. Are they a biologist?”

You were about to answer but instead you made a very strange noise. “A-Ah…”

“Is something wrong?” he asked worriedly, hurrying by your side. “Do you hurt somewhere? Show Hoseokie, I’ll take care of you.”

“Ack, um… Hoseok, I have a dick,” you blurted.

Somewhere, far off into the distance, there was the Windows ’98 sound of a PC shutting down.

…

You grimaced and yanked the blanket off your lap.

!!!!!!!

Hoseok felt his eye muscles expand so far that he was sure his eyes were going to fall out of his head at the sudden appearance of your naked body, shivering at the sudden exposure, and a very large, erm, appendage? Engorged… tissue… that was the equivalent of your clit?

No matter how he looked at it, it very much looked like a penis.

Well, there was no excuse now saying he couldn’t find it, right?

“O… Oh!”

You gripped the blanket underneath you, panting slightly, leaning back and opening your legs. Your pussy was still there, slick and wet already, with your, er, penis looking almost purple-red with strain, sticking straight up out of your body.

“It feels weird,” you gasped. “Ack, wait, s-stop looking at it, I don’t know about this…”

He stopped you from closing your legs. “Wait. You said this is my test.”

You stuck your hand over your, uh, dick and gawked at him. “Y-Yeah, but this is going too far, isn’t it? Maybe I can ask for a redo or something, you’re not going to want to–”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Hoseok, I have a dick, you don’t think that’s weird?”

He shrugged. “You are still you, right? Well, not exactly, you look different, but that’s fine, you are still you in here.” He reached forward and tapped your chest, smiling. You looked up at him, eyes full of wonder. “No matter how much you change on the outside, I will always want to be with you, if you let me. If this is who you are, then that’s fine with me.”

“O-Oh… well… I’m still a woman.”

He blinked at you. “Eh.”

You pointed to the ceiling. “The Doctor says all spotted hyenas have dicks, regardless of gender.”

“W-What? Really?” He blinked rapidly, astounded. Nature sure was something.

“Er… Hoseok…?”

He looked down and you were gazing back at him, breathing shallow.

“Can we do something about my massive erection?”

He jerked his head to it. A strange feeling overcame him, starting from his lower stomach to up his torso and down his legs, his arms, up to his head, strange and familiar, the same feeling he usually got when he was with you, except this time it was disturbingly strong, an impulse that refused to be ignored, something in the air or something about your face, he wasn’t sure, but instead of responding, Hoseok reached out and closed his hand around your length.

That was a thought he never thought he would have in his life, but here he was.

“A-Ah, whoa, that’s, oh, f-fuck…”

The great thing about sex with you was that he was not expected to act any particular way. He could let his instincts take over and not uphold some sort of image other people expected of him, because you did not expect him to be anything but himself and so he leaned forward, slowly stroking you the way he would himself, opening his mouth and spitting down the head.

“Oh, fuck!”

He grinned. “Having fun?”

You didn’t have much of a response except for a low moan and clutching the blanket below you, your tail curling around you and ears standing straight up, watching him leisurely pump you and spread his spit all over. He felt the skin pulse against his palm, twitching and hard, and he reached up with his free hand ad cupping your chin, pulling you into a kiss, keeping it sweet as he gripped a little tighter, causing you to gasp and moan into his mouth, feeling the desperation and need in your kiss, whining to his lips, faster, please, your eyes glazed over with lust.

“P-Please, Hoseok…”

His smirked, ticked his head. “Spit on your dick.”

You whimpered, hesitant.

“If you want me to go faster, you’re going to need it to be more slippery, otherwise it will hurt.”

Maybe if you were used to it, he could be rougher, but clearly you were not by you sensitive you were acting, and you looked down, watching his hand, closing your mouth, breathing hard, him waiting, waiting, wondering if you would.

You spat downward onto his hand and your cock.

“Good girl.”

And he sped up, faster, slicker, ah, fuck, the quality of your saliva reminded him how good it was, and you were so hard, throbbing, so close, humping his hand now, lifting your hips and following his hold, gasping his name, your sound leading him to your eyes, furry ears flickered forward, listening to him, leaking everywhere.

“H-Hoseok… s-stop…”

He stopped his hand immediately.

“F-Fuck!” you howled, throwing your head back, low growl in your throat, nails digging into the blanket your you, ripping it, feral and primal, powerful chest muscles and shoulders tensing. “Fucking shit, ugh, that’s good, hah…”

“You wanted me to edge you?” he chuckled, realizing what had happened.

“Y-Yeah, just wanted to feel what it was like, hah, come here, let me try something…”

Trying something meant yanking off his pants and shirt, getting on the mattress with you, and you licking your hand to cover it with a thick gloss of saliva before grabbing his dick. He grinned and you grinned too, devious and dirty, facing each other, hands around each other’s hard lengths, slowly, up and down, savoring the way you held him and how he held you, closer, breathing in each other’s breath, and he just loved the way you touched him, loved the way you knew how much pressure and power to put in your grip.

“Does it feel as good for you as it does for me?” he gasped, pressing his forehead against yours, shuddering.

“Probably?” you breathed. “I don’t know, this is my first time and it feels… fucking amazing…”

“Ah, yeah, mmm, it always feels better when you do it…”

Faster, tighter, looking into each other’s eyes, and he could feel it, closer and closer, such satisfying, even pressure and the intensity of your gaze, direct lust and uninhibited gratification, no questions needed, a wordless decision to hit the high together, tilting his head, deep kiss, his deep groan to your needy whimper, feeling the pleasure and giving the pleasure, more, more, more, his tongue in your mouth claiming control, your whine in his throat, please, please, please, so close, Hoseok, please, the tag on your collar clinking wildly at the furious pace, his smirk on your pleading lips, held breath.

Nothing but the sound of hand on skin, slap of two tight holds on throbbing hardness.

“Mmm, fuck!”

He sucked in a breath, shooting thick white streams over your hand at the same time he felt the gush of wetness cover his, slick and viscous, sticking to his hand, his thigh, his crotch while painting your hand, your thigh, your crotch, a beautiful mess, feeling the simultaneous pulse of your length against his palm and his cock against yours, mind in a drunk haze of orgasm.

He just… jacked your dick… in a prison cell… of a weird house… and you being a hyena was the least weird thing about it.

The place was called the Hell House, but it was definitely not that, unless Hoseok was in that circle of Hell where everybody felt compelled to mindlessly fuck.

That would not be the worst, to be honest.

He yelped as you grabbed him by the shoulders and sank your soaking wet pussy onto his still-hard dick.

“W-Wait, the c-condom?!”

“Hoseok,” you gasped. “I am a hyena.”

“W… Well, yeah, I don’t know how that biology would work…”

“I don’t think it does and I can’t take it anymore, o-o-oh, yeeeeeees…”

He choked and arched his back, thrusting his hips up instinctively, feeling your slippery, cum-covered cock slide over his stomach, a very bizarre sensation he was sure he was never going to feel again, grabbing your hips. You placed a hand on the mattress and gasped, reaching down with your other hand and pressing the head of your cock against his skin.

“Oh, God, your abs…”

“I d-don’t really have abs, oooh, fuck, that feels good though,” he panted, thrusting up again, hard but slow, hitting your deep and with power, your moans ringing in his ears, fucking you from below as you rubbed yourself against him, yes, you have abs and, fuck, your skin feels so nice, ah, I’m gonna cum again, leaning forward so he could hit you even deeper, watching your breasts bounce and your body shiver with pleasure, feeling it himself, the way your muscles wrapped around him and squeezed him, the wetness that smacked loud and clear between your joined hips, your moans pitching, hiking louder, more ecstasy, it must feel so fucking good, so good he was almost a little jealous because he could see it in your eyes and in the way they rolled back, wanton wail as you spilled onto him again, all over his stomach and crotch, squirts of your cum that covered him with your scent, so fiercely arousing that he moaned with you, slamming his hips up with a loud squelch and shooting his cum into you, his cock jerking and trembling with every pump into your tight, wet hole, astonished there was so much still, the fire spreading all over his skin and into his head, pleasure so immense that he was soaring.

Your name on his lips, a sweet sigh.

“Hoseok…”

He felt your hands on his cheeks, a little sticky with your cum, pulling his face to you and kissing him fervently, his laugh in your mouth, petting your ears gently. Your tail thumped excitedly against his thigh, soft and lovely.

Hyena you was pretty fun.

“Are you going to be like this forever?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. Just for now.”

“Ah.”

You both jumped as you heard a clatter beside you.

There was a pair of silver handcuffs and a key on the floor right next to you and Hoseok. They were not there before. It was as if someone had thrown them from up above.

You both stared at the ceiling.

“Is… Is that a sign?” he wondered out loud.

“It’s a very weird sign.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Say…”

You gave him the side-eye, slow smirk forming. “Say what?”

He picked up the handcuffs.

“You’ll be like, ‘Oh my God.’”

phase two (maknae line)

masterpost

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #hoseok smut

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