#mostly because I’m desperate for any human contact

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[hauntedhokage]

the distraction

Diavolo/Fem!MC/Lucifer

summary: Lucifer doesn’t understand what the appeal is. Diavolo is smitten, a couple of his brothers have made pacts, and he thinks you’re only going to be trouble and create more of it the longer you’re in the Devildom. A visit to the castle to check on an allegedly sick Lord Diavolo grants an invitation for Lucifer to see what all the fuss was about. 

word count: 3.3k

warnings: explicit sexual content, f!receiving oral, exhibitionism/voyeurism, double penetration, anal, hints of hatefucking from Lucifer, jealous!Lucifer, maybe Luci has a crush on Dia i’m not sure, some Diavolo/Lucifer action, overstimulation, i don’t know what this is (which is becoming my answer to everything now)

Lucifer thinks you’re a distraction. A mistake to have been brought into the Devildom because you distract his Lord Diavolo, and the rest of his brothers (but that was a different issue). You don’t listen, you’re stubborn, and it felt like every single day he was hearing about something you did - if not from his brothers then from Diavolo himself. The Demon Lord was smitten with the human exchange student who wasn’t supposed to be anything special but ended up turning the school upside down. 

He didn’t get what was so great about you, and he hated the effect you had on everyone around you. It just didn’t make sense. You’d even made Diavolo late for council meetings a couple times, which was mostly excusable considering how busy the prince was and how desperately he wanted to make sure this exchange event was successful. The key to that success was the comfort and survival of the exchange students, and if you had a question for Diavolo, then he was going to answer it. Only for you, though, nobody else was allowed to make him tardy.

It must’ve been one hell of a question this time, since Diavolo was now more than ten minutes late to the Student Council meeting. Not only that, he wasn’t answering his phone, either. 

“Where’s Diavolo?” The empty chair makes him more nervous than it should. There’s no way something had happened to him, but for Diavolo to be more than five minutes late with no contact was greatly concerning. 

“He said he wasn’t feeling well and went home early.” Why wasn’t he told? Instead Mammon is the one told that the head of the student council wasn’t going to be in attendance at the council meeting? That was extremely irresponsible and out of character for Diavolo, which was cause for concern on Lucifer’s end. 

But then he noticed that the human that was supposed to be with Mammon wasn’t there, either. 

“Where’s the human?”

“Back at the house. Said she was tired.” It wasn’t unusual for Mammon to be unbothered, the health of the human had no bearing on how much money he had, but that didn’t stop Lucifer from wishing that his younger brother thought about things in a bit more detail than just the financial. 

“Well, we can just cancel this meeting then. We’ll need to check on her, and I’ll go check on Diavolo.”

“Wouldn’t Barbatos have that taken care of?”

“It’s polite to check on people when you hear they’re unwell, Mammon.” Is all the eldest leaves them with, leaving the chamber in a calculated hurry. He has to maintain his composure to avoid suspicion or concern. Causing any sort of commotion would never bode well. 

Upon his arrival at Diavolo’s castle, he’s greeted warmly by Barbatos with some slight confusion regarding his appearance. But nonetheless, he’s allowed to go up to where Diavolo’s office and bedroom were so he could check in on his prince.

He doesn’t hear the sound of pen on paper, nor does he hear what he would expect of a sick Diavolo. The prince was whiny when he was sick, begging Barbatos for more tea and maybe a tissue. Instead Lucifer hears what sounds like moans coming from the bedroom. 

The respectful thing to do would be to turn around and leave Diavolo to his business. Who he spends time with is private, and he could be grilled about his extracurricular activities tomorrow. Leaving him to his guest was the polite thing to do, even if he was curious considering Diavolo hadn’t shown much interest in pursuing a romantic relationship with anybody. He didn’t want to ruin it.

“D-Dia, I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”

Yes, turning around and leaving would be the respectful thing to do. However he knows that voice, and it’s the current source of his recurring stress outside of his siblings. You’ve now proven to be a massive distraction for Lord Diavolo, and that needed to be addressed immediately. He needed to stop it, and convince Diavolo to send you back up to the human world so things could return to normal. 

Lucifer is pushing the door open just as you’re crying out Diavolo’s name, and his eyes aren’t sure where to focus. Your blissed out face, or Diavolo’s back that he could see between your parted legs? Did he look at your body? Should he look at you at all considering you were naked in Diavolo’s bed with your hand gripping the prince’s red hair in a tight fist. 

“I must not have told Barbatos I wasn’t to be bothered by anyone,” is all Diavolo says at first, and Lucifer watches as his dear friend kisses the inside of your thigh before wiping at his chin. It’s then that he sees Diavolo’s face, sees how pleased the prince is, and that just doesn’t feel right. “Good afternoon, Lucifer.”

“Is there anybody you won’t infect, human?” The question isn’t meant to be voiced, he’s immediately embarrassed as soon as the words come out. He’s supposed to be kind, inviting, setting a good example for his brothers and making sure not to disgrace Diavolo. But here he was, talking down to you while you laid naked in Diavolo’s bed. Here he was, disgracing Diavolo. 

“I don’t think he truly means that,” Diavolo comments, looking between you and his right hand in concern. But you seem unbothered by the statement; in fact, you actually look amused to see Lucifer agitated and embarrassed. Usually it was him scolding Mammon for saying idiotic things, how the tables had turned.

“No, I’m sure he does. Lucifer doesn’t like me that much, Diavolo.” You’re even pouting up at the future Demon King, laying on the theatrics a bit thick for Lucifer’s taste but he knows Diavolo sees through it. “He thinks I’m up to no good.”

“The only no good thing you’re up to, darling, is when I’ve got you riding my cock.” Lucifer wants to puke at that, plus the way Diavolo leans in to kiss at your neck before murmuring “sinful” against your skin. “Oh!”

“What?” Lucifer asks in unison with you, not missing the way you rolled your eyes before Diavolo is kissing you again. As if it was his fault he had the same question at Diovolo’s outburst.

“Maybe,” the redhead starts, kissing you once more before he pulls back to look at Lucifer again. “Maybe Lucifer just needs a taste. You and I can help him lighten up a bit, I’m sure.” 

“Is he even capable of having fun?”

“If I tell him to.” 

“I don’t need Diavolo to tell me to have fun.” 

“Then get naked, get in this bed, and have fun with us!” If it was coming from Diavolo, he’d see it as an offer. But coming from you, it felt like a challenge. And he wasn’t about to lose to a human, especially not one like you. “While I’m still wet, Luci. Don’t waste his efforts.”

Pain in the ass, he thinks to himself as he strips, trying not to start too hard at the way you and Diavolo were watching him. To have both of your gazes burning into his skin, to know that your hand is slowly jerking Diavolo’s cock while Diavolo’s mouth busies itself with your breast - you two were pleasuring each other to the sight of him. It should make him uncomfortable, but instead it only turns him on more.

“Do you trust that he’ll satisfy me, Diavolo?” you ask, winking up at Lucifer as Diavolo looks up at you. “And how can I satisfy you as he does?”

“I trust Lucifer with everything. If he fails in his task, I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He actually looks troubled at the thought that he would have to react should Lucifer not deliver, his brow furrowing until you smooth the wrinkles away with your thumb.  “We’ll just have to keep at it until you’re truly satisfied. It’s a task not given lightly so, should he fail, I’d want him to work at it until he’s successful.”

It’s Diavolo who guides Lucifer’s hand to the apex of your thighs, Diavolo who encourages Lucifer to gather that wetness and taste it for himself, while you just lay there and watch the eldest of the seven brothers as he stares down at you. What was going through your head, he didn’t know and wasn’t sure he wanted to. Your mind had proven to surprise him numerous times during your stay at the House of Lamentation, what could come out of your mouth while Diavolo was here to protect you from his rage was something Lucifer wanted nothing to do with. 

But he couldn’t deny that you were beautiful, especially among the lavish sheets and pillows that made Lord Diavolo’s bedding. If only you weren’t so irritating.

“Lucifer,” you murmur, sitting up a bit while waving him in closer. He obliges in your request, leaning in so you were almost nose to nose as he adjusts himself between your legs, only to be caught off guard when you kiss him. There was no intimacy in your kiss, only need, and he uses this moment to carefully push himself into your waiting heat. If you weren’t ready that wasn’t his problem, but the moan that reverberates around his tongue tells him that you enjoyed his intrusion into your body. 

You pull him back with you as you lie back against the pillows, breaking the kiss in favor of looking over at Diavolo who is grinning in his own victory. Whatever he’d been plotting would have to be addressed later, as Lucifer’s one goal now is to fuck some respect into the bratty human living in his home. One of his hands snakes around to grip the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin as he gets close to your ear. 

“Maybe there is something special about you,” he taunts, nipping at the shell of your ear as he presses his hips flush to yours.

“Gonna start sleeping on my bedroom floor like your brothers do?”

“Don’t let this make you think that you’ve got my interest as anything more than the human living in my house.” Despite his tone, he feels your cheek rise against his with a grin that only agitates him more. Did you ever care about what he said? “Insolent brat.”

He’s not very gentle as he grabs you, his hands keeping you connected to him as he pulls you back up into a sitting position. The demand is made that you work for your orgasm, something that has Diavolo chuckling from the side before he’s moving to box you in against Lucifer. 

“Ride him well, darling, and I’ll reward you greatly.” 

Lucifer was going to add spoiled to the list of things you definitely were, especially when he feels what could only be Diavolo’s hand near the base of his cock

“What are you planning?”

“She’s got another hole to fill, doesn’t she? Maybe you should try her ass, it’s just as wonderful as-”

“I will not make a habit out of fucking her.”

“So you say now.” Diavolo’s knowing smirk was just as irritating in this moment as your little smirks were every day. Knowing that Diavolo was on your side in this; that he liked you to the point of having sex with you frequently, that you were allowed to touch him so delicately behind closed doors, when you were just some little girl in a world too big and magical for you just had him feeling many different emotions and not one of them was positive. 

“It’s okay to like me, Lucifer,” you whisper in his ear, your hips moving against him while your hands are firm on his shoulders to keep yourself steady. “If you need Diavolo’s permission for that, he’d grant it.”

“I don’t need Diavolo’s permission to do anything,” he counters, but follows to lie on his back when you push at his shoulders. It’s your quirked brow that has him gripping your hips harder as he starts to fuck up into you, trying to prove a point while also being mindful of where Diavolo’s positioned behind you. Something short circuits in Lucifer’s brain when he feels a tongue on his sac, and he tries to look past you and your pleasured expression to see just what Diavolo was trying to achieve down there - was the redhead trying to prep you or get him off faster?

But he does feel you getting tighter around him, the way your pace gets a bit less consistent and your moans grow a bit louder, Lucifer knows that the silly human is about to cum on his cock and Diavolo’s fingers that were working to stretch your other hole open. And as you’re coming undone, face twisting in pleasure as he fucks you through it, he thinks he gets the hype about you. You were pretty cute when you were babbling about how good you felt and begging the two demons not to stop, he was almost concerned that pleasure of this magnitude from demons would alter your brain. 

He knew better now. 

But then the bed is shifting beneath him again, and he looks away from your face to see Diavolo on his knees behind you. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” The question sounds so gentle leaving him, as if he’s asking you if you’re ready to go out on the town and not have both of your holes penetrated by two demons at the same time. And you respond just as sweetly, looking over your shoulder and whispering a “yes, please” to Diavolo that has Lucifer holding your hips just a bit tighter. 

“You know, we’ve done anal before,” you comment, smiling down at Lucifer and taking the chance to push his hair out of his face. “Worried about me?”

“You’re human, so yes.” 

“Oh really? I had no clue that I was- oh, fuck.” 

Diavolo was making his entrance, so Lucifer just waited while also basking in the feeling that was your pussy getting tighter with Diavolo working his way into your ass. You’re biting your lip until he’s carefully coaxing it from between your teeth but pushing his thumb into your mouth as Diavolo is whispering reassurances into your ear. 

“You’re not gonna cum already, are you?” Lucifer asks, grinning when you gently bite down on his thumb in response to him rolling his hips into yours. “He’s not even fully inside you yet. But I bet you want Diavolo to touch that pretty clit of yours. Would that be your third orgasm, or did I miss one on my way over?”

“Missed two,” Diavolo corrects while snaking his arm around your waist, bringing a look of surprise onto Lucifer’s face at the information. “One of my own, too.”

“That’s less interesting.”

“Mammon says you’re in love with me, though.”

“And I’ll lecture him about that once I’m home.” It was almost like they weren’t both trying to fuck their human exchange student right now. Almost; but he can feel the way you clench impossibly tighter around them, see the way Diavolo has to compose himself while pressing his face into your shoulder due to how tense you were getting with your impending orgasm. He’d try to edge you, but he doesn’t think it’d be possible with how stuffed full you were at the moment. 

He also doesn’t think Diavolo would allow him to deny the precious human what she wanted.

Diavolo sends you over the edge with a snap of his hips, chuckling at the wail you let out as you cum around both men. Lucifer is kissing at the skin he can reach while the redhead continues to fuck you - both men riding that high in their own way and trying to keep you on that edge and clenching around them for as long as they could.

“And there’s four,” Lucifer murmurs, biting into your neck as his own patience wears thin and he's holding you in place so he could fuck up into you at his own brutal pace that matched the prince’s. “Can we get you to five, brat?”

“We definitely can.” Diavolo assures, winking at Lucifer over your shoulder. “Can’t we, darling?”

You're nodding while begging for it, and Lucifer can’t take his eyes off of your face. Your body is so warm, and would likely be exhausted after this last orgasm and he’s not sure how he’d get your back to the house but that’s a problem for later. Right now is about how incredible your pussy feels, and how right it feels to feel Diavolo’s cock working alongside his own while being held in your inviting warmth. He could spend years in this position if it was allowed, you felt that good. 

"So tight, darling," Diavolo groans, his forehead pressed against your shoulder while one of his hands grips your hip and the other keeps his weight off of you. "I won’t last much longer with you like this. But I think it’d be divine if both Lucifer and I filled you at the same time. Would you like that?”

You nod quickly, babbling your approval of the idea as Lucifer’s hips pick up their pace to something he could only think would be brutal for someone in your current state. You were so close to cumming again, they just needed to get you there and Diavolo’s hand frantically rubbing against your clit proved to get you there rather quickly - but that showed how well the prince knew your body at this point. 

“You can cum too, Lucifer.” He didn’t know that he needed permission, but getting that permission makes it impossible for him to hold off any longer and he’s painting your walls with his cum as Diavolo finally stills above you with his own orgasm.

The bedroom is quiet save for the heavy breathing of all three parties, the room settling more when Diavolo carefully pulls out before he removes you from on top of Lucifer. The demon watches as the prince guides you onto the pillows, gently stroking your face as he praises you for your performance.

“You good, Lucifer?” you ask when Diavolo stops to breathe, propping yourself up to look at Lucifer as he finally sits up. “No bullshit.”

“I’m good, that was good. We should do that again sometime.”

“Just stay the night, we can do it a few more times.” The suggestion from Diavolo has you winking at Lucifer before you drop back onto the mountain pillows. “My bathtub will fit all three of us, too.”

“Hear that? All three of us.” Your addition pulls a sigh from him and a chuckle from Diavolo, and Lucifer knows what the answer was. He wasn’t going to be able to pull you away from the prince anyway.

“I’ll text the group chat and let them all know that we’re helping tend to Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer states, looking over to see that Diavolo had wasted no time in curling himself around the tired human. “Not that either of you really care.”

“I care a little bit,” you mumble, eyes still closed as Diavolo starts kissing at your neck. “Don’t want the boys worrying about me too much.”

“I care, but only because I don’t want them barging in while we’re ravishing our exchange student. I don’t think she can take more than two at a time, Lucifer, and your brothers are rather impatient.”

“You’re awful,” you giggle, gently swatting at Diavolo as Lucifer rolls his eyes. As if he’d share something like this with his younger brothers. But that would be left alone for now, seeing that Diavolo had you rolled over onto your stomach to prepare you for another round. 

[mcuynfluffwriter]

Out. (Again). - Bucky X Y/N short

//so sorry this is a little late (?), if anyone cares, now you have three shorts to try and fit into a timeline puzzle now😘// y/n=your name, ya’ll know the drill by now- (if not it’s basic don’t worry)

warnings: injuries, fluff, lil bit of violence, swearing

Contains: Bucky X fem!reader, red room/hydra shtuff, floof/fluff/aww

Y/n was captured by an orginization. Whether it was what remains of the Red Room still somehow alive or even HYDRA the lines have blurred too much to figure it out. But Bucky broke through their base. And found her in a cell.

Y/n could barely make anything out. The light was bright. Far too bright. And you couldn’t… you just. Ow. And. Just. Ow. Pressure in your head. Pressure on your head. And your ears rung so loudly. So.. so loudly. Your thoughts.. they felt too repetitive and off. Something- one. Someone. Was trying to say something. Then something- one. Stop forgetting there’s another person! Touched your face. You were mostly limp still. The words being thrown at you were both too loud and too blurry to make any sense. Your name, that was part of the mix. The thing touching your face was too cold to be another person though. There was a clattering noise somewhere nearby and now it felt like there was a real and alive human hand holding your face too. Wait wait, no you knew someone. With the… yes, James- no- Bucky. That mission. Did that mission fail? What was happening? The metal arm. Well that explained the cold hand and- ouch. Ouch, the light reflecting off of it. There was something else. That came with the real skin to skin contact though. Something you weren’t used to. It felt like this big flash behind your eyes. Like contact was conducting energy from one to the other. That hurt and was painful. Only now you could- less hear more feel- even more going on in your head. There was desperation, and anger, and adrenaline, and even fear. And it was all too much. You gasped sharply, too sharply, and felt new tears appear painfully in your eyes. On reflex your arm reached out to grab something and hit into the figure of the person that was standing in front of you in all the blinding light. You can hear more too though. And as painful as it was, you thought that maybe this weird… feeling you had. Or the feelings he had. We’re helping you get just a little more of a grip. The feelings weren’t all, there were words, if you were able to pick them out. Lots of them matching with the sounds you could hear on the outside, but not all of them. Come on! Come on! Be ok! What’s wrong? Is she ok? Am I too late? Is she ok? What did they do? Are you ok? Come on I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you! Don’t make me fail worse than I already have don’t do this. Damnit I’m running out of time. Come on, y/n. Y/n I’m sorry. What’s going on? She has to be hurt. Did they drug her before I got down here? We have to get out of here now. It was never ending and fast and overwhelming but brought you back. Just a little but. Just enough. Enough for you to be aware of even more horribly loud gunshots and Bucky picking you up. Clearly not going to waste any more time trying to get you to come through at the moment. Focusing. Focus focus focus. On getting the both of you out and then you to help. There was running and guns and loud loud noises. All the light was still dazzling. You could feel blood roaring in your ears and your heart beating fast. But there was sharp pain all around you. Not yours. Not physically for you. Apparently you didn’t need physical touch to feel other people because you could hear the loud bangs and if it hit someone nearby, which was often, you could feel where and what and everything. The pressure in your head was too much. It was a rush. It felt rushed. It was rushed. Your thoughts and brain still felt all repetitive and wrong and off but now there was everything else. And still Bucky. And get yourself together y/n you try to think furiously but it sounded more desperate to your inner monologue. Get it together. You could help. You could you just- oh my God that is far too bright. Apparently it was on the Sun’s agenda to become the brightest thing on earth or something because the moment you were out in the open it was like getting blinded. You didn’t even realize you reacted by shutting your eyes tightly, not surprising, and turning to hide your face into Bucky. Which was much more of a surprise. But then again. Maybe not.

There was more fighting and noises and you could feel Bucky’s heartbeat speeding like a person running in a horror movie. He was breathing hard and suddenly things were much darker, which felt so much better. The running had stopped all at once and you were set down like you were the most delicate thing. Gently as possible, propped up against the wall. Wall of where, oh. That didn’t take much to figure out. You should have known anyway but it didn’t really matter. There was the sound of an engine and that really weird stomach dropping sensation that made you feel nauseous and some talking. It was such a strange state to be in. Where everything was both too much yet too off for anything to even come together in the right ways. You could see but not really understand what. You could hear but couldn’t make out the words. After a while you felt someone, not Bucky this time evidently, start gently prodding you in different areas, and you were able to figure out that it was Melina. She was probably just checking to make sure you’re ok. And if you were being entirely honest, you weren’t ok. But you were also kind of glad that it was Melina, at least. There was even more talking and eventually you felt a sharp prick in your arm that stayed for a little moment and seemed to be drawn out before a second one a little higher than the first. That one did something, if not completely bring you back to normal, getting you a little closer to being properly aware again. Melina instructed Bucky, who was standing off to the side still catching his breath, “You tell me if there’s a change, yes?” He glanced up from a long cut he was treating on his arm and nodded after a second. Melina seemed fine with this and answer gave you a slight smile and rubbing your shoulder before getting up to go probably fly the jet. You close your eyes and wince, trying to lift a hand to your head. “You ok?” You blinked your eyes open again to look at Bucky. “Dunno…” you manage to mumble, trying to sit up a little more and wincing. “Try to stay still.” He suggested, flinching when he put some of Melina’s ointment for wounds on the cut then wrapping it with a bandage and looking up to watch you again. After a long moment of silence he stepped over and sat down next to you against the wall, staring ahead solemnly. “I’m sorry.” He finally said after a long moment. “So sorry. I said that you didn’t have to worry about them anymore. That I would be able to help defend you. And I failed. Badly.” He sighed, dragging one hand through his hair. You still don’t entirely trust yourself to actually be able to really speak or get out all the words inside your brain and all the words in everyone else’s brains apparently but it felt really important to you that he should know something. That you didn’t blame him at all. No way. Not his fault. Without any better way you just… let your head softly drop to his shoulder. You’re looking forward still, just off into space. You didn’t know what words to say so you didn’t say anything. You hadn’t really been raised to show emotion but you hoped that this was enough for him for him to understand that you didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault. In that moment you could feel a spike in his emotions, or at least you were assuming they were his still. Not quite negative, more like dampened surprise mixed with a little bit of something that felt warm and good. You weren’t sure what that one was yet. But you knew you’d find a name for it eventually.

[suukee]

✍️ Fic authors self rec!

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to other writers you know. Let's spread some self-love! 💛

hello my friend! ☺️ i’m getting to this very late and unfortunately i don’t have any of my fics currently uploaded. i can share the ones i’m in the process of writing or planning to!

HUMANITY’S GUARDIAN

levi ackerman x isekai reader : a media malfunction brings you into a dangerous world filled with humanoid creatures. fortunately, it's a place you recognize. in return, it guarantees your death.

i wanted to blend dimensional travel and one of my favorite shows in one. i feel like levi deserves all the love and comfort after what he went through and i wish i, or someone else, were there to do it. what better way is there than to write a fic about it? it’s slightly reader inserted but not too descriptive.

THE ONE WHO SAVED PARADIS

levi ackerman x isekai reader : a moment ago, you were at the campus library. the next, you’re being escorted to the king of the island for a celebratory feast. adventure awaits beyond the hellish gates, a world of magic and death lies ahead.

this is an isekai fic but more like “the rising of the shield hero” type of universe. it’s medieval. magic and game-like leveling. includes dark content like prostitution, underground market and slavery, alcohol consumption. the reader is a woman, so she goes through catcalling, people calling her rude names, and things as such that adds to the storyline (that said, the reader doesn’t get touched, just yelled at. i don’t have the heart to write that dark of content). this is probably the most darkest fic i have ever written out, so it’s not for the faint of heart.

DEAL BREAKER

ceo levi ackerman x employee reader : the stupid things that people would do for money blows you away. sure, you’re in a desperate need of it, but you wouldn’t do anything insane. something like that would be ruining a blind date on behalf of your friend, completely unaware that man is the ceo of the company you work for. no, of course you wouldn’t make a deal with him, hoping he doesn’t fire you. is the money worth risking your career?

this one is inspired by the k-drama known as business proposal. i wanted to make this comedic but angsty at the right moments. levi strikes me as a workaholic who doesn't want to be in a romantic relationship. i'm trying out love triangles in this one.

A HEAVY BURDEN CALLED FATE

satoru gojo x isekai reader : your mundane life takes a heavy turn when you land up in the world of jujutsu kaisen, a popular shonen manga.

yet another isekai fic but with jujutsu kaisen. satoru gojo is one of the characters that i instantly fell in love with, but this is mostly for comfort with other characters. perhaps we all know what happens in the manga with gojo. but i just want to give so many people a hug, especially nanami. can the reader save people? it’s heavily canon divergent, so i don’t think a lot of people are going to like it if i ever posted it. it’s also slightly reader inserted for the storyline, but again, not too descriptive. also the reader’s technique is literally sung jinwoo because he’s so badass.

last but not least, PROMISE ME

satoru gojo x sorcerer reader : everyone in jujutsu high knew not to mess with the strongest trio. that was you, satoru gojo, and suguru geto. undefeated, one of a kind. a friendship so strong that nothing stood in the way. an intimidating amount of strength combined together. there was always a solution to a problem as long the trio had each other, no matter the horrible things that came by, itching for a fight. but in a world full of curses, nothing was promised except for one thing—an expiration date.

this is a canon fic where you become best friends with satoru and suguru in the early years of jujutsu high, but things happen. you leave to study at your hometown, away from satoru, but you and megumi know each other and keep contact. you’re still trying to find suguru since he left. at some point, you come back as a teacher for megumi’s sake but have to deal with satoru’s shenanigans. does your friendship with him blossoms again? is there more? maybe he ruins it once and for all. maybe you do.

[ecofridge]

I love Canteen!! :DDD what's their relationship with Hema like? What's their current endgame ideal? To stay a dhampir or restore their humanity?

Ough thank you!! So Hema’s deal is basically she used to be a simple tiefling bard, but an elf named Melatonin (I like odd names) made a deal with a devil (there’s a theme) to find her “true love” and that happened to be Hema. Melatonin is important because she acts as the soul motivation for most of what Hema does. When Melatonin got deathly ill and nothing could heal her, her devil claimed her and took her to avernus when she died, which was extremely upsetting for Hema.

Long story short Hema worked her ass off to create her own cult-army. The deal goes like this: you join Hema’s cult and fight for her, and when she kills Melatonin’s devil with the help of the cult to save melatonin and become a devil herself, she’ll take over a small corner of Avernus and create a city for her followers where they’ll have a comfortable afterlife, no matter what their damnation was originally for. She was successful, and now Hema and Melatonin live happily as heads of the cult/city.

It’s a constant battle to maintain the city walls, however, so new followers are always welcome. Canteen read about Hema while studying devils, trying to learn more about their own devil and a way to end their contract. They made contact with her and volunteered to join her cult for her help, since she’d already killed a powerful devil before. At first Hema and her wife were a bit offended by the request, but agreed to help them under a few more conditions. They had to not just be a follower but a disciple and recruit new followers for her in faerun, and they had to figure out the true name of their devil on their own. Despite having horrible people skills, they managed it in their desperation.

All this to say basically the relationship between Canteen and Hema is based mostly on their contract, Canteen has a lot of respect for Hema but Hema sees them as someone unstable who frequently makes poor choices, but she has pity on them.

As for their humanity, they’ve found contentment as a dhampir. They might not live forever anymore, but their lifespan is still going to be significantly longer than a humans, and that’s enough for them. They don’t believe they’ll ever really get their humanity back, and they’re alright with that. Their current endgame ideal is really just to stay with Rin and settle down as a potion merchant, or scientist, or librarian, any of these things would make them happy.

Unfortunately settling down to retire, as much as they would like to, will have to wait. I’m currently playing them in a vecna eye of ruin campaign and their story isn’t over. They gotta save the world, much to their own dismay.

Thank you so much for the ask! It makes my day getting to ramble about them :3

[drill-teeth-art]

Summary of My Transformers Fan Continuity

So this is mainly for the new followers who saw my gender comic, and don’t know much about Transformers or what I’m writing with it. But also a handy summary of what I have so far for this fan continuity. Putting it under a cut because it got long. Sorry in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors XD

First, a bit of background about Transformers as a franchise. It started with a cartoon released back in 1984 commonly referred to as G1 (generation one). There was also a Marvel comics run of Transformers that ran around the same time, but I don’t know that much about it. But anyway, since the G1 cartoon and comic run and the success of both, Transformers has seen many retellings and reboots. Transformers Animated (commonly shortened to TFA), Transformers Prime, Transformers Cyberverse, the IDW comics (which I have not read beyond one issue so far), and more. Genuinely there’s plenty more than that. And world details and lore and the story varies from series to series usually following the same premise where two factions from the planet Cybertron, a home to alien robots who can think and feel and transform from a few different modes, end up on Earth and at war with each other on Earth. The factions are the Autobots and Decepticons. With the Autobots characterized mostly as righteous and good and the Decepticons mostly characterized as evil and cruel. Of course there’s different levels of nuance exploration in different tellings, but that’s the basic set up G1 used and has been reflected in most subsequent series.

When I was growing up, my dad had a few DVDs of G1 episodes, and it was the first “boy” thing I loved. Transformers was and still is commonly marketed as “toys for boys”. But I fell in love with the G1 series when I was little and my family was honestly supportive of that interest. I had Transformers toys, and it was awesome. It genuinely still means a lot to me. And I would love to do my own retelling of the series since in my opinion, many of the subsequent series still lack nuance. And I want to do a telling of Transformers not as a marketable show for kids. But something exploring things that are deeply important to me like gender, body image, learning to self love, healing from past trauma, finding peace with others, and being okay with not being forgiven while trying to be better still.

So anyway, without further ado, here’s the summary so far. The story is still being heavily workshopped, and honestly I don’t have the means right now to write it in full yet. But hopefully someday. And hopefully until then, people still enjoy seeing my tinkering process.

Ahem.

Cybertron is in the middle of an energy crisis due to numerous factors. The Autobots and Decepticons are two, small squads dedicated to researching short term and long term solutions to the crisis. The problem is that they hate each other. Personal grudges run deep between the sides, and they disagree with the other’s methods anyway. So they often end up brawling with each other over resources instead of getting anything done. The squads depart their home of Cybertron in desperate pursuit of energy rich asteroids just to provide some immediate relief to their struggling home. However, they get into a scuffle further from home than was safe, and their two ships both crash on Earth. Roughly 20 years passes, and their ships both boot back up. The main computers of their ships powers on their emergency repair systems and quickly researches to find compatible alt modes of Earth machines for the damaged Cybertronians to repair themselves easier while stranded on the alien planet. After an awkward altercation at a power plant that neither squad intended to raid, the Autobots got a chance to talk to humans first, and the Decepticons were quickly shut out of the telling of their story to humanity. Three human college students make contact with the Cybertronians after a while. One meets the Autobots. One meets the Decepticons. And one meets the mysterious Insecticons who had been on Earth long before either squad. The humans decide to encourage the Autobots and Decepticons to make amends on Earth before going home. A few members of both sides are committed to the plan, seeing all the good it can do. But plenty are still resistant, and the story follows the struggle of healing that divide, so they can work together to go home.

[friendzoned61]

Do you have any specific hc that you imagine for the convict ?

Idk if it’s like a Headcannon but the convict, i see as like a scientist. I think all of the Eden members that participated in the attack were all mostly scientists. Because it was a colony! If you send people up to space to establish a new civilization, you want to not send some random Joe, you wanna send Jeff the bioengineer or bob the ME. and members of the COI aren’t a colony, they’re what’s left of humanity after the rapture. More scientists. I’m kinda rusty on lore but all these stations for the COI I think were gathering data and materials and more for earth so they probably had a ton of supplies both food and resource wise and in comparison to Eden, a colony that may have had more limited communication with earth due to distance and shit and, again I’m rusty, we don’t know how long that colony was established. Looking up the wiki I got there’s 480 people up there, so they’re probably either just getting established and they sent a shit ton of scientists to start priming mars for a larger population or they’re maybe a generation in. And if your home planet goes no contact and you try to reach out to the only space stations that might have a reason why-and like I watched the Martian what if there was some disaster that meant a food scarcity, or maybe they just needed more materials to keep expanding and providing for life there- AND THEY JUST GO DUDE IDK? EARTHS GONE? I’d get a little pissed and I’d say hey dude can you help us out then? We have like no way to like consistently gain building materials without earth and maybe the station was greedy! Like no! We’re our own governing system now and our first rule is FUCK YOU! I’d raid them if I was desperate! But hey we’re a fuck ton of scientists and yeah we’re got enough to withstand space travel and to adapt to the gravitational pull of mars and to keep expanding, but we’re not on our turf and shit I’m captured ahhhh.

Um. So all this to say, yeah I think both the convict and the player are scientists and uhhhh their punishment for their desperation is forced exploration of the unknown. :)

[chtozaepta]

I love your OCs with the horns and tails! And all of your non human OCs, if you want could you maybe say a bit about their characters and the world they live in? Only if you want to (also I'm obsessed with your art, you really are a pillar of shaperaverse fan community on Tumblr)

Oooooh this gonna be lömg!

First of all, thank you I’m glad you like them :> These are characters from an original comic I’m about to post (the first chapter is almost ready), but this race does not appear in the main plot for some time, so I can say a few things without spoiling anything. I know it’s not a very original design, I mean, duh, who doesn’t have horns and tails right 🌚 So anyway, these guys are called yáve, and they are like… feral elves in a way. They live in forests/tundras in big clans and build funky colorful térems, mostly out of wood bc permafrost.

They looove all things colorful and worship the spirits of nature. The huge pink moth/dragon/reindeer guy? That’s one of them.

His/her name is Menerik and he/she is essentially a god(ess) of Northern Lights, the Moon, madness and magic. He/she is very coherently genderfluid, the gender depending on the moon faze. During the full moon she is a female entity, and when it’s a crescent he is considered male. On the new moon it is forbidden to speak of him. Fun fact - this also is reflected in their language, based on Russian, where a word for “moon” is feminine, and “crescent” is masculine). Since Menerik is a he for the most time, that’s what I would usually call him.

Most yave are mortal, their lifespan being close to humans, but there are two ways for them to achieve a sort of immortality. First is joining the Circle of Memories, an order that keeps their knowledge, culture and traditions and become essentially immortal through a ritual, and another way is becoming a mage and learning the ways to prolong life through contact with spirits. Any yave who starts learning magic is introduced to the spirits on the thinner layer of reality and give up their birth name, color and gender. Their new name they choose themselves, their new color is given by the spirits, and from the moment they start learning magic they are all non-binary, body and soul. All this “immortality” tho is really just a longer life, because they can still be killed, fall sick or get cursed, so there is hardly anyone older than 200 years there. There are rumors about mages over a thousand years old, but that’s spoiler territory)

Some stuff here is *very loosely* based on siberian shaman practices, some names and words borrowed from siberian folklore.

Some of the yave characters I’ve drawn so far:

There’s Chanava, the purple witch with blue horns, around 20 years or so; they will probably appear in the comic. They are a mage, and also joined the Circle, but neither have given them immortality or enough power. Not that they are desperate, just very curious.

Aravellane, their uuum king? Tsar? Prince? Whatever. The one in the crown and a blue fur coal a few posts earlier. A mage, but prefers he/him; he has a blade that can make whatever cut without killing you. Some say, he cut his own heart out with it once to stop feeling sad feelz, and the heart ran away, because he treated it terribly. Since then, an endless winter covered his part of land, and if it weren’t for the mages and trade of diamonds they mine, they’d all be very much fucked.

Myándush, the head of the Circle of Memories. Öld, woise, mistürios, all that. Speaks in riddles. Has a beef with Aravelle, though why, no one can tell.

Ryt’kheo - dabbles in magic, but is not officially introduced to the spirits. Makes airboats, which is basically a boat with a magic sail that can get it into air. The sails he weaves from wool and puts in threads of Menerik’s mane. He is considered one of the coolest craftsmen among the yavi, and everyone wants a flying boat, so he is always very fucking tired and 100% done. Random fact - a “Ryt’kheo” is not a name, it really means “Unnamed”. It is used to address someone who has already given up their name but have not yet taken a new one.

Harrahaye - Ryt’kheo’s brother, not much to say about him except that he is a pain in the ass. I’m still fleshing out their characters, so there you go x)

There is another one, who is more or less complete, but they will appear in the comic and are quite important, so all the info will be there 😌✨

[kittttycakes]

F, S, U for the fanfic asks? I’d love to pick your brain.

F. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This is the hardest one to answer!! But a lot of fun to think about, so, from chapter 4 of as heart for heart, I really loved this exchange:

She was carefully cutting her chicken when she ventured to ask, “You mentioned a sister. Do you have any other siblings?”

He glanced over at her, barely making eye contact before replying, “Yes.”

Her jaw clenched, nearly imperceptibly, as she waited for any further response. How many, what they did, where he was in the line up, she would take anything at all, really, if it just meant he would say more than two words in a row to her.

She felt Hob looking at her, but did not look back, determined to see it through. “I used to wonder what it would be like, having siblings. I was an only child growing up, but there was a whole group of us, around the same age, that all lived close enough together that we could spend our free time together. I always thought having siblings would be like that, but that’s rather silly, isn’t it? Not everyone gets on with theirs, I know.” Grace shifted slightly in her seat, starting to uncross her legs before remembering how small the table was, resulting in her rather sharply jabbing the toe of her shoe squarely into Tom’s kneecap. “Christ—I’m sorry. I’m not usually this clumsy, I swear. Small table, bad day, one or the other or both.”

“She usually lives up to the namesake,” Hob said with a soft smile, reaching over and lightly putting his hand on her forearm, squeezing gently, once, reassuring, before letting go.

The entire dinner is SO awkward and so tense, and I feel like the shortness of Dream’s answer and Grace’s desperate talking just to fill the air really gets that across, culminating in her (mostly…) accidentally kicking him square in the knee, and Hob, who wants so badly for the dinner to go well, trying to make her feel a bit better. I think this exchange sort of gives a good idea of the atmosphere of this dinner table, and where everyone is at from Grace’s POV.

It’s also such a good chance to see Grace in an environment where she’s feeling a lack of control over the situation and a little uncomfortable, and getting to see her response to that (she doesn’t fight or flee, she fawns).

Honorable mention to Hob’s “Shroedinger’s human” line in chapter 7 because I thought it was funny.

S can be found here!

U. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

This is also so hard, but as long as we acknowledge this is in no particular order AND is based a lot on what I have read most recently (tagging them here so everyone can go check them out):

@just-french-me-up has an absolutely brilliant WIP right now that I cannot get enough of (Three Hundred Years of Longing). Her other works are also incredible, I personally think about Sworn Hand and As Tantalus Reaches for the Apple at least once a week. She is so good at dialogue, at atmosphere, at fleshing out characters and making them so real and so vital, like living breathing people…I honestly could go on for a very long time so I’ll stop here.

Moorishflower writes some of the most beautiful prose and dialogue and was one of the first authors I read when I started to get into Sandman fic, I am woefully behind on Little Histories and Beautiful, Strange, and New, but both are knocking my socks off utterly. I feel the full spectrum of human emotion while reading fics by moorishflower. I am both in awe and jealous of the command of language, and reading a new chapter or new fic is always bound to be a delight.

Ark, who I have been reading fic from since…2012, perhaps? and who I have followed through a few fandoms, writes some of the absolute best characterization I have ever seen, full stop. Les Mis, CA:TWS, Sandman…I consider myself VERY lucky that I’ve ended up reading fic for the fandoms Ark writes for.

(Also, this feels like a good place to note that the AO3 account associated with this username is different than the AO3 I comment under/have written previous fic on, which is ditvin, so if you see me in the comments section on AO3…hello!)

[sunnisurrealism]

Hi everyone I just want to give an update on my well-being. Today I realized I didn’t send in a consent form to BC Pharmacare and that’s why my coverage wasn’t working, but I called, they told me what to do, and I found the form. This is good because my psychiatrist said i their was an error. So now there shouldn’t be any issues with me obtaining Person With Disability Status and the following monthly stipend and health care benefits.

I am coming to boundless realizations and I am going through a rage mode. I am quite sure I have severe adhd but I have not been assessed. Every single day is an immense struggle of being organized. I have a billion thoughts that I cannot simply get out without feeling like I have to write a whole series of books. Thus, my state is endless restlessness. I feel like Paul, but I know I’m not alone in my destiny like he kinda is. Don’t worry I’ll delete this later. Im not genuinely pissed at anyone in particular, for that would be pointless. I understand that my secret fans know I am a kind person at heart. Quite deeply. Sometimes I need to vent. It’s just that, I can’t afford to not express myself in fear of upsetting my secret fan(s) you Timothée because they cannot help me. Once I have more money and not chronic financial insecurity I won’t be constantly so on edge. I wish my adhd didn’t get in the way so much, and I wish I could go on meds for it but I can’t cuz I’m bipolar. Please never expect anything from me except mail on our birthdays. I cannot stand the pressure and it greatly impedes on my ability to function, which make it no point. I’m not pissed at you Timmy at all you are literally a baby Angel boi. I’m sad MB stopped replying but I’m assuming it was to protect me against my own manic uncontrollable thoughts and tendencies. I respect trust and understand. I’m mostly pissed I have no schedule in my life, which I will work on once I get back from my next trip to Victoria job I see the psychiatrist again. I’m pissed my life is neverending chasing appointments and the beaurocratic system of the government. I often wish I had my own personal assistant to help me because I am so so so overwhelmed I just end up ruminating my life away and failing to eat.

I know the real core of my issue, which is quite obviously, desperation for contact with My Dearest Love Felix. I constantly feel like I’m drowning in an ocean of jaded confusion without him. I’m annoyed when he doesn’t show up in my dreams when I’ve tried. I’m so god damn annoyed that I don’t know the real him and contextually speaking what his sexuality is like. I don’t know if there is hurt feelings or guilt but from that Coldplay song I assumed there was. I am really sorry, but also know I haven’t done anything wrong. it’s painful beyond comprehension in my little brain not knowing what in him is happening. I know though that he conceptually understand that he needs to be my rock, even from afar. Because my disillusionment levels are higher due to not knowing him and im not PR trained to become famous. This sounds so savage but I really really really need him to be stronger than me. At least in this way this story is gender normy. I definitely have a savior complex with him, although during May I saw myself as his Angel savior because he had been waiting so long. Sometimes Chani comforts Paul and Paul Chani. 🧜🏻‍♂️

The more that my secret fans help to accelerate collective transcendence in the name of social surrealist level global compassion IMMEDIATELY STARTING NOW. I don’t think all of us are taking this seriously enough… The more they lift the burden off me in the future. I know this sounds self-centered, but I am fully committed to the biggest dream theoretically possible on earth which if overcoming all systems of oppression. Not only because of the potential rewards, but also because it is what my heart genuinely wants to do when I become famous. Lots of hella people already align with this dream for humanity, I would say everyone actually. But we have to take it so so so much further if we are to address the climate change and i sustainability problem. And it also is the secret key to the mating crisis because emotional intelligence characteristics are evolutionarily advantageous 🌺this path of humanity expanding empathy is extremely obvious, it has always has been and forever will be. Those who don’t align just have broken hearts, which is another reason for the acceleration of compassion. The way thru is not going to change. It’s just the story of humanity.

I do not understand what is happening in the empathetic telepathy / quantum entanglement thing, but it was never going to always be good. At least it’s interesting 🍿

[crescentcityhellmouth-rpg]

Out Of Character

Name/Alias: Chey Age: 27 NSFW Personal Preference: I’m comfortable with smut but Its not really my specialty. I don't mind using fade to black. Series/Season: Up to S5. Canon Changes: No canon changes. Activity Level: Mostly afternoon or midnight. Time Zone: EST. RP Experience: 7yrs on tumblr. Best Mode of Contact: Discord.

In-Character

Desired Character: Stiles Stillinski Age: 18 OTP / NOTP: Stiles x Lydia Housing: House in the Garden District.

Interview questions.

01. Give us your thoughts on New Orleans?

"New Orleans is G R E A T, wonderful really - y'know, minus the high mortality rate."

02. Tell us how you feel about your species, and if you could change it what would you choose to be and why?

"i''m human, and living here, well, life expectancy for someone like me is AT MOST a month. not worried at all, totally cool."

03. Please describe the most important person to you and why?

"My dad, scott, lydia, the p a c k. yeah, actually they're all pretty fricken important."

04. Detail a specific point in time that has detrimentally changed you?

"probably that time i was possessed by a deranged dark kitsune that tormented my friends for fun. i watched it all happen. i couldn't do anything. i had all this p o w e r, but i was powerless. i couldn't stop. they were suffering. suffering because of M E. it was me.. and there was nothing i could do. i just watched. I just watched her die."

05. Explain (a few) bad habit(s) in detail that you’ve picked up over the years, if you remember when you started it describe that pivotal moment as well as what you’ve tried to do to cope with it?

"i got this problem where i make everyones problem my problem. i probably shouldn't.. well, get in the middle - do things that go against every moral fiber of my being - but i can't help it. i gotta help. i can't just.. y'know... not know. It's what I do, its who i am, maybe its morbid curiousity.. or a calling or whatever."

Playlist.  

• My Body — Young Giant • Wheres My Mind — The Pixies • I Feel Like I'm Drowning — Two Feet

Paragraph sample.

Stiles drove down the dirt path and parked his jeep at the very edge of the bayou, his headlights cutting through the thicket of trees sending little animals scurrying away. He reached into his backseat, grabbed his trusty bat, and just like always, Stiles went off to chase a lead. he'd been following along on the radio like he often did against his fathers wishes, listening into officers calls for fresh news. he had a knack for meddling in any and all dangerous things. maybe it was the adrenaline or maybe it was the adderall he'd taken. the air was thick and muggy, the worst scenario for a swamp as the mosquitos drawn by sweat clung to him desperately for a taste. he swatted them away wildly. trudging his way through the wet earth that suctioned onto each step he took. he began to wrestle his way through the most dense part of the underbrush like a puppet with it's strings being pulled in different directions all at once. tightening his grip on the bat, he clicked on the flash light he'd brought in his breast pocket, turning 360 to decide which way to go. further and further he went until the ground gave a way beneath him. His foot catching under a gnarled root, he toppled over, slidding down a small trench with a shriek. surely the sound alerting any predators of his vulnerable state. stiles glanced up, his face streaked with grime as he flipped himself over and scrambled to grab his flashlight. but as he reached out for it, he seen a set of bare feet focused in front of the light. "what in the actual.." he groaned, looking up to meet a girl with brunette hair plastered wet to her pale face from the recent rain. in a panic he reached for his weapon, fingers slipping momentarily before catching hold. her eyes were glowering down at him through the darkness, bright and burning yellow like the sun.

[crazybigredlove]

9th December 2013

Dear Pete, 

As a Starbucks regular I've got my little spot in the cafe that I expect to be all mine. Refusing to acknowledge anyone I turn the share off on the laptop, I settle back into the cushioned chair, and I pop my headphones in. It's mostly Lorde, Lana Del Rey, Of Monsters and Men, Katy Perry, Birds of Tokyo, that sort of thing. It's an important detail because it sets the tone for the manuscript and let's you know precisely how serious I am. James and Dave Franco could walk in and start trying to make eye contact from across the room and I still wouldn't look up. I've nearly written a whole manuscript in the last few weeks and that doesn't allow time for pursuing Hollywood romances. 

Shit. Is. Real. Especially now that I'm working to a deadline. I want something finished before I move on to the next phase of my life. 

Which is why it was super annoying when your brother turned up today and decided that because we're housemates who don't understand boundaries, he can interrupt me whenever he feels like it. He slapped a cafe mocha down on the table in front of me. 

"Are you ever coming home?" He slides into the booth and stares at me through tired eyes. "That has yet to be confirmed." I reach for the drink. "Is this paleo?" 

"Yes, Liv," he rolls his eyes. "Chocolate milk coffee is paleo." "Awesome. Everything is paleo as long as someone says it is, so I mostly just needed you to say that." "Are we going to talk about Big Red?" 

"No." "Okay." We let the silence build but it isn't awkward or uncomfortable. We are just two people who are tired and have lost their words. Or at least that's what I thought it was. "A Facebook message? Really?" "Who told you?" The accusation in my voice makes several fellow coffee drinkers turn around, so I drop my voice. "It doesn't matter. It was a stupid thing to do and it didn't make a difference anyway." "What were you hoping for? That he'd come running back to you?" "I'm not a delusional fool. I may have shit taste in men, but I'm sensible enough to know that being with these people is not a good idea. I don't know..." My voice trails off and I stare into space. What was I hoping for? "Maybe I was being an awful person and I was lashing out at him. Or maybe what I was really hoping was that I could stop anyone else from getting hurt here. Stop him from doing any more damage. Or maybe I just wanted to punish her for having pink hair. I don't know." "So what did happen?" "They both blocked me on Facebook. It was kind of an anti- climax after everything." Christopher nodded. "He was always a crap human being, Liv. From the start he desperately wanted to be with someone, even if it wasn't the right someone. He wanted all the sex, none of the commitment, and anyone that he could call his own. He was a strange dude." "I know, it's weird. It doesn't even hurt anymore when you say stuff like that. At first I thought I was in shock at how it all played out or denial or something, but now all I feel is apathy. He broke it so much that I don't care anymore." He reached out and squeezed my hand. "Some might say that's a good thing." 

I took what felt like the millionth deep breath in six months. I was sick of it. All the sighing, the loud inhaling, and then the earth-shattering exhalation; it was almost like those noises now provided the soundtrack to my life. He sighed. She sighed. She took a deep breath. He took a deep breath. Enough. 

An unstoppable force... That was what he'd said. 

In that Starbucks down the road from our house where the coffee is mediocre and there are still a few other patrons hanging around even at that late hour, that was the moment in time where the conversation couldn't be avoided any longer. 

It took three more deep breaths before the words started to flow. Hopefully those would be the last ones for a while. 

"Christopher," I began, staring at the carbon copy of you and realising that was the reason I hadn't ever really seen him for who he truly was. "I can't be what you want. Not right now. I know this is so cliched and from a movie and it's the part where I start yelling at the screen what an idiot she is and how much she needs to get her shit together, but for so long I thought I had dealt with being alone and I was good, ready to meet someone. I'm not." "Liv,- "Don't, okay. We should've had this conversation months ago, right after the first time we had sex and Simon told me that you wanted something more." "He told you that?" Christopher looked horrified. "Yeah. Why? Is that not..." My heart races, suddenly so uncertain thinking that I've read it wrong. He drops his head into his hands and groans as I grip the table, fighting the impulse to run for the door. Finally he speaks but his voice is so low I lean right across the table to hear it. "I didn't know he told you." "He did. He thought I knew." "You didn't?" Shaking my head I laugh softly. "It took me a long time after he told me to even believe it." "Well, this is awkward." "It doesn't have to be. I don't want it to be. It was so easy to tell myself that you were happy with occasional sex and not being tied down to one woman, but I don't know that I believe that anymore. And I'm starting to see that over the last few years and massively in the last few months, I let myself go. I stopped being me because all these boys kept hurting my feelings. Every time I met someone knew I lashed out because of what the last one did and I don't want to do that anymore. You know in the last six months I could count on one hand all the times I've bothered to do my hair properly." I'm smiling wryly. "I'm in my thirties, single, and a day is a screaming success if I iron my hair. I stopped caring about me. I need to fix that." 

Tears spring hot into my eyes and I groan as I dab at them with a napkin. "I am so sorry, this is embarrassing and I would really like to be done with crying. You have no idea how much I want to go back to not being the girl who cries constantly." 

"Liv, I've stitched up your forehead, I've seen you naked more times than I've seen any other woman, and when we were eleven I cut off your ponytail." "Nine," I interjected. "It was nine actually and it took me till I was eleven to get over it." "Either way, it doesn't matter, but I would hope it takes more than a few tears in Starbucks for you to get embarrassed in front of me." He squeezes my hand tight again and all I want to do is curl up in his arms. Always wanting what I can't have... "Yeah you're right." "It's late. Come on, home time." 

We stand and head for the exit and as we do he wraps one arm around my shoulders. 

"Chris? I feel bad now. I didn't before, about her. I really didn't care at all. Now I feel bad though. This is all fifty percent my fault and at some stage, even though they're staying together, she's going to feel bad." 

"They might still be together in twenty years, but with that message you planted a seed of doubt in the mind of an insecure girl who was so uncertain about the stability of her relationship that she monitored her boyfriend's calls and texts. He had an affair and even though she was doing that she still didn't catch him. Right now she might be claiming that she loves him and he's innocent, but that is going to eat away at her. Somehow I don't think they're ever really going to work past it." "I am a disgusting human being." 

"No, you're just someone who made some mistakes because they thought they were in love. You're not special when it comes to that one." 

With a kiss on my forehead he pulls me in tight and I hug him back. We walk like that all the way home and I don't want to let go. 

Liv x 

[ink-and-dagger]

Hi hi! So I’ve been home sick this week and trolling Silco fics to keep myself busy, as ya do. And I just wanted to say you are TOP FUCKIN TIER. I started with VIP Booth and now I’m working my way through the drabbles and DWM. Is there any way you’d do a headcanon/Drabble for Silco (maybe Viktor and a few others too but mostly Silco) on how he’d react to an S/O with a specific trauma trigger or something and how he’d handle them having a panic attack? I don’t know why but I need it in my life. Anyway, love you, love your stuff ❤️ Your writing is fanfuckintastic!

*coverin my face and kicking my feets* Thank you so much darlin' 💜☺️ I hope you’re feeling better

I won't spoil DWM for you if you haven't gotten that far, but we do actually have a scene pretty similar to what you're requesting in Chapter 8 👀

But I’ll whip you up a real quick general headcanon for Silco and Viktor

Disclaimer: These are seriously off the top of my head and also very short. I'm trying to be less of an anal perfectionist in order to actually post more often, so they’re no where near written to my usual standard.

[‘Panic-ee’ refers to you/reader/SO who is having the panic attack]

Silco

Silco is very skilled at handling panic attacks and trauma triggers - having spent many years mastering control over his own.

He instinctually knows exactly what to do, and is very perceptive at picking up on what the individual person might need [contact/no contact, stay still/move somewhere else etc].

His energy is very grounded, which is massively helpful for the ‘panic-ee’ to latch onto.

He has experience with handling Jinx’s breakdowns, so is never phased and is quick to act when he spots the signs in someone else.

I imagine he would speak very calmly to you, with simple, straightforward encouragement and instructions to follow which focus on your breathing.

Silco has a beautifully sonorous voice [so unusual for an animated character to have a voice but no VA right? Haha weird] and he would definitely use that lulling tone to draw the panic-ee’s focus to what he’s saying.

I also consider Silco to be an extremely non-judgemental person in general. Mental illness doesn’t phase him in the least, and he won’t treat anyone any differently because of it. E.g. If an employee had a panic attack he would help them through it and then likely never mention it again, nor treat them any differently than he had before.

Viktor

On the opposite side of the coin, our Viktor doesn’t posses any natural people skills. Despite his heart always being in the right place.

His mindset is so logical that he's always struggled to understand anything that isn’t governed by science (such as human emotion).

And so when faced with a ‘panic-ee’ he would latch onto what he knows.

He’d likely begin pulling up an assortment of biological facts, and just generally be a bit too practical in his approach.

But over time he’d begin to figure out that this isn’t necessarily actually very helpful at all🥲

And so in a desperate bid to once again reach for what he knows, he remembers a lullaby from his childhood.

He remembers how the sound of his mother’s voice, and the lilting shapes of his native language used to soothe him.

So he begins singing this softly whenever you panic - it gives you something tender and gentle to tether yourself onto, and works well to bring you back to yourself, and to Viktor.

[delimeful]

Snapshot: Release

new WIBAR Snapshot! 

warnings: mention of trafficking, PTSD, mentions of funeral rites, catharsis, crying, sad hours

-

Patton liked to think himself an optimist, but even he could admit that there were some days where things were bad.

He didn’t like to, of course. Gratitude was a virtue in Ampen culture, and he had carried it with him gladly when he first started spacefaring. It was easy, most days, to find something to be grateful for and thank the sea’s tidings.

Most days.

Though it had taken time, Patton had learned to loosen his grip on the idea of the foam edge, the bright side to a bad situation. He still found the cup half-full, of course, but he also knew that sometimes things were hard, and it was okay to be sad about that.

He was still getting to the part where he told others when he was sad, but that was okay! He was working on it, and as Logan always said, growth took time.

A few rotations after Virgil and him were reunited with his best friends, Virgil had one of those days.

It had started innocuously enough. Patton had been sprawled over Virgil’s legs, continuing his not-so-secret agenda to show Roman and Logan exactly what kind of Human Virgil was. Not harmless, certainly, but-- what was the Common word? Disciplined.

They both knew how easily Virgil could hurt him, could hurt any of them. Patton had been there watching while they escaped, when Virgil slammed into aliens much stronger than an Ampen with unforgiving force. There was no question of his capability for violence, when faced with a threat.

But that was just it. Virgil knew he could hurt them, even through simple carelessness, and he worked so hard not to.

It was clear in every movement. How could Patton feel the subtle tremor in Virgil’s hands when he held him, the attentive stillness of his body when Patton perched on him, the careful softness of his fingers carding through feathers, and feel anything but treasured?

Virgil had protected Patton with everything he had, and Patton was going to return the favor however he could. That’s what friends were for, after all.

So, Patton was nestled into the crook of Virgil’s legs, listening intently as he told a story from back home, occasionally piping in with questions or a story of his own.

Logan would have metaphorically killed for the opportunity to even just listen in on these firsthand Deathworlder anecdotes, but Virgil was still avoiding the Ulgorian with skillful determination. It was a little saddening, but Patton knew better than to push.

Everything was still settling down from their last incident; he didn’t want to disrupt the delicate balance again by shoving Virgil out of his comfort zone.

Instead, he just listened, happy to see the little differences that had overcome his friend since they’d finally gotten free of that horrible cell.

This was far from the first time they’d sat around storytelling.

There was little else to do in their cell, and besides, it was one of the fastest ways to share words, telling tales tall and small and only pausing whenever a word didn’t quite translate or their voices went out. Back then, though, Virgil had shared his stories with an almost bittersweet air about him.

It reminded Patton of the way Crav’n held wakes, long stretches of time spent gathered around their pyre, sharing stories, remembering and honoring the deceased in every way they could. It was as though Virgil was giving up those little pieces of himself in advance, for someone to remember after he was gone. As though he was performing his own funerary rites.

His coatfeathers fluffed up sharply at the thought, and he shuddered a few times to try and settle them back into place. That time was past, Virgil was safe, and so it bore no further thought.

Unaware of the way Patton’s attention had strayed, Virgil ran a hand over his back, shifting feathers back into alignment with surprising delicacy for such a large being. Patton trilled lowly in pleased gratitude, wishing wholeheartedly that Roman would stop glaring long enough to notice this aspect of the Mindscape’s newest resident. They could get along so well if they gave each other a chance, he just knew it…

“Hey, Patton?” Virgil asked, shifting from the bright, long vowels of Patton’s native language to the lower register he used for his own home tongue. Patton perked his antennae up to show his friend that he had his undivided attention; Virgil usually only used English when he was asking something he didn’t want anyone else to overhear.

Nobody was nearby to listen, but that didn’t stop Virgil from casting a guilty look over his shoulder when he admitted, “I snuck into the map room yesterday.”

The ‘map room’ must have been referring to the nav room, where they plotted courses. It had a manual pilot control station as well, which was why Roman had been safeguarding it from Virgil as though he thought the Human would suddenly take up space piracy and seize control of their vessel.

Patton certainly didn’t have any problem with trusting Virgil in there, so he didn’t even twitch at the confession, only narrowing his eyes in silent encouragement for his friend to continue.

Just as Patton no longer shied away from bared teeth, Virgil no longer assumed narrowed eyes signified anger or doubt. He had picked up on a fair amount of Ampen body language during the course of their friendship, and so his lips quirked to the side slightly before he took the invitation to explain.

“I just wanted to know where we were, I guess. It was difficult to make sense of the maps-- It’s not like I’ve had a lot of opportunities to check them out on any of the other ships I’ve been on,” he said, and only the way his eyes rolled up slightly told Patton he was mostly-joking, the hesitant way he did sometimes.

Patton knew their time spent with the smugglers was something everyone on the ship would prefer to forget, including them, but things like that changed a person. They couldn’t be denied. If small, slightly-bitter jokes like this one were how Virgil honored that change, Patton could support it.

“I’d be mappalled with their terrible hosting skills, if I were you,” he chimed in, and he couldn’t help the way his feathers’ glow increased at the sight of Virgil’s smile, even muffled behind a hand. “Do you want to learn how to read the maps?”

“Yes,” Virgil answered, unable to conceal the too-quick way he leapt on the opportunity. There was a pause, his face going slightly pink, but Patton didn’t comment, feeling a swell of sympathy in his upper heart. It was hard to remember sometimes, with how adjusted Patton was to the wayfarer lifestyle, that Virgil was immeasurably far from everything he’d ever known.

“I mean, yeah,” he corrected, clearing his throat in a way that Patton had once mistaken for a growl, “but that’s not actually-- I was trying to see if I could recognize anything. Any stars, or-- or planets, y’know?”

He was avoiding eye contact now, staring at a distant point. He hadn’t moved his hand, which meant that Patton could feel the tremble in it when he butted his head into the point of contact. He crooned soothingly, the type of sound a parent would use to soothe a hatchling.

“I, um. Well, I figured if I knew how far it was, I could figure out how much it would cost to make that sort of…,” he fumbled for a word Patton would know, slipping back into Common for a few words, “extra trip. But I couldn’t find anything familiar. So, I... I thought I’d ask. Like I probably should have in the first place.”

Patton waited, but that seemed to be all Virgil could manage. “Ask what?” he prompted gently. “Space is big, but if there’s certain skysights you miss, I’m sure we can get started on finding them! What are you looking for?”

Virgil’s attention dropped down to him and then flitted away again, not a single sign that he’d even heard Patton’s pun. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and then dragged his gaze back to meet Patton’s.

“... Earth?” he managed, in one of the smallest voices Patton had ever heard from him.

Oh.

Oh.

Patton’s antennae flicked back in dread before he could stop them, and Virgil’s face twitched slightly, making an expression that he’d never seen before. His chin had dimpled, his jaw clenched, tense as though waiting for a blow.

Waiting for Patton to tell him he couldn’t go home.

This wasn’t the first time he’d thought about it, Patton realized. Far from it, it seemed as though Virgil had been cradling this question like an egg surrounded by downy feathers, keeping it tucked away, waiting desperately to be secure enough, safe enough to ask. To try hoping for a future again.

He was so afraid to want, and Patton couldn’t help but whine slightly, because this time, he was right to fear the worst.

They couldn’t go to Earth. Patton knew, because it was the first thing he’d talked to Roman and Logan about, that first day, as soon as Virgil had retired to his new room.

It wasn’t a matter of should or would. They couldn’t, not even if they all agreed to try, not even if they were willing to go directly against the council’s edicts. They didn’t have the equipment to get past the barricade undetected, they didn’t have the knowledge to slip between patrols, they didn’t even have the cloaking capabilities they’d need to land on an uninformed planet. They didn’t have enough funds to try and obtain any of those.

Honestly, they were barely scraping by as it was. Roman and Logan had halted their normal cargo runs to search for him, and their savings had suffered as a result. It was part of the reason they had been taking more jobs, any they could find that wouldn’t put them in the sights of any potential Human-hunters.

He’d done his best to shield Virgil from realizing just how much his presence had changed their routine, but going by the way he thought he’d have to pay them just to get back to a home he never should have been stolen from in the first place, he hadn’t been successful.

Patton glanced to the door with a half-formed desire to go get Logan, who had patiently walked Patton through every possible scenario until it sunk in that they really, truly couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t fair. Patton had chosen this life, and he could still go home, and see his family, and greet the ocean breeze. Virgil hadn’t had a choice in anything, hadn’t had the freedom that spacefaring brought so many, and now he didn’t have the option to return home, either.

“It’s not— I don’t want to leave you,” Virgil forced out, looking a little frantic. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”

He used the Ampen version of the word, the one that translated literally to ‘treasured one’, and could be used by any who had bonded closely, blood or nest-sharing aside. Patton nodded firmly, mouth clamped shut to keep from sobbing.

“Right,” Virgil continued, near-pleading, “so it’s not you, I promise, and I can find a way to pay back my debts, I know Roman wants me gone and Logan wants s-samples, and I can do that. It’s fine, it’s worth it, just… I miss home. So bad. Even the parts I used to hate.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton said in the most honorable way he had, the low, agonized call of I repent and I regret. “If we could— I promise we would, Virgil. It’s not your fault, you have no debts here. You deserve to go home.”

Virgil’s face was miserable to even witness, the way faltering hope had been crushed under the weight of his worst suspicions being confirmed. Patton reached for him automatically, his attempts to comfort his friend coming out as a soft empathetic cry instead, and that wounded sound was all it took for Virgil’s self-control to finally break.

He crumpled all at once, a breezecatcher with its tether cut, crashing to the sand below. The top of his head butted gently against Patton’s side, a mirror of the way Patton so often sought comfort from him, and he began to cry in earnest, as though releasing months of built-up misery.

Disciplined, Patton remembered with a pang of bitter sorrow, and let his Deathworlder finally weep for everything that had been taken from him.

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

Don’t Go Baking My Heart || Seokjin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Summary: You fall in love with Kim Seokjin’s bakery after wandering into it to take advantage of the post-Valentine’s Day discount on the chocolates. Maybe it’s the owner’s bad jokes, maybe it’s the other regulars, maybe it’s the delicious pastries. Or maybe there’s something more that keeps you coming back to that shop.

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 14.7k

Genre: Strangers (to Friends) to Lovers, Bakery AU, tooth-rotting Fluff, some smut

Warnings & Tags: mentions of insecurities and of former relationships, smut (vaginal sex, oral [male receiving], fingering), Jin makes Bad Jokes, Valentine’s Day themed

A/N: Soooo this was supposed to come out for Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t ready then, so you guys get it now instead! I’m bad with puns so I definitely had to look online for those used in this oops. Finally, I’d like to give a big thank you to the amazing @elidebrey​ who actually worked in a bakery shop and told me all about (I’m sorry you guys ran out of milk all the time). She’s an amazing writer and you should check her out if you like the Batfam! Hope you’ll enjoy this one-shot!

February 15th

You first walk into Kim Seokjin’s bakery the day after Valentine’s Day. Your eye was caught by the chocolates and cakes you noticed on sale from the outside, and also the name of the place, The Rolling Scones, which is either genius or terrible, you can’t pick. The door bell chimes happily, first when you push the door open and then when it closes behind you.

The place is empty. There’s no one behind the counter, and you find yourself hesitating there for a second, both arms behind your back like a shy schoolgirl — which you once were, but that was a while ago now. Natural light, the cold sun of February, is falling through the bay windows, and the place is cute, clearly decorated with love and care. It makes you feel just a little warmer inside.

Since no one seems to be showing up, you take your time to look at the display. You’ve spent the past week crying over the end of your two year relationship, and you’re desperately craving something sweet and sugary to fill the hole in your heart and in your life. Post Valentine’s Day discount is definitely the best way to do that.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you knew this relationship was never going to be your forever. It was just a nice and comfortable situation to be in, and you expected you and him to part ways at some point.

You just didn’t particularly expect it to be now.

“Jungkook!” a strong voice shouts from the back of the shop, startling you. It’s quickly followed by a curse, and then a man walks in, glancing back with a worried expression, tying an apron around his waist and adjusting a small black hat on his head. You notice the ‘Jungkook’ tag on his apron, and it makes you soften in sympathy. The second his eyes fall on you, he recomposes himself, and shoots you a smile that’s professional, though the nervousness doesn’t quite disappear. “What can I do for you?”

“I was just looking,” you say, and he leans forward, probably straining to hear. Your voice has always had that weird tendency to become inaudible when you’re talking to strangers. “You don’t have anything with strawberries, do you?”

“I’m afraid everything we had went yesterday,” he says with a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, right,” you mumble. You’re disappointed to a stupid degree, and you know it’s because your emotions have been running wild recently, to the point where any small contrariety threatens to make you cry. Fortunately, you don’t, right now. That would be horribly embarrassing. “Um, I guess I’ll take that box and, uh, the éclair, please, then.”

“Of course!”

His movements are quick and precise as he takes it out, and you could be mistaken, but you think he’s deliberately not looking at you. You’re not particularly blaming him for it, though, because you’re doing the exact same thing.

“Anything else?” he asks once he’s done, and you shake your head, avoiding eye contact. “For here or to go? We’re also a café,” he elaborates when you give him a surprised — and slightly panicked — glance.

“Oh. To go, please,” you say, not so much because you actually want to, and much more because you’re bad at changing your plans when you had already made your decision.

Except… You eye the bakery. It’s not like you have anyone to come back to, and you don’t particularly want to be back at your apartment to wallow alone. You might even get some things done while you’re here.

“Um, actually, would you mind if I…?” The question dies on your lips. You’re already feeling too embarrassed to continue, but he looks up, eyes wide, and nods.

“No, no, please take a seat! Do you want something to drink as well?”

“That— That would be nice, actually.”

“Alright, just give me a second and I’ll bring you our, er, menu.”

It’s not a menu, it’s a list of drinks the owner printed and coated with plastic, and insists on calling a menu, but he isn’t going to tell you that.

You pick a table that faces the door, and after choosing and ordering your tea, pull out your computer. It’s not that the things you have to do can’t wait, but you don’t like sitting alone doing nothing. The shop is desperately empty, and part of you is terrified by the idea that Jungkook could come over to talk to you. That would probably end up not being completely unpleasant, but you’re not sure you can handle that much interaction with other human beings right now.

While scrolling through the text you are currently working on editing, you pick a chocolate out of the box to eat it and hold back a satisfied moan at the taste. The fact that it’s so good makes you feel a little more upset that you’ve never been in a relationship for Valentine’s Day and therefore have never been given anything like that.

It’s always been bad luck really, because you’ve been in a few relationships, but even with your last boyfriend, the two of you were on a break in February. The others never made it longer than a few months, and never fell at the right time. It’s not even like you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, you do think it’s mostly a commercial holiday, and you definitely don’t want any expensive gift, but you’d be happy to have someone by your side to make fun of other couples with. Someone to love you, and someone to love.

God, you want to be in love so bad. For a few months, you thought you had it with your ex, and maybe you did, for a moment, but it had slipped from your fingers without you managing to do anything about it, leaving you sad and empty. You want to feel everything the movies and books promised, the butterflies in the stomach, the rush in the beat of your heart. You want to feel like someone holds your world in their hands. You want them to love you back — really love you, so much that you’ll catch them looking at you and see it in their eyes immediately, so much that they’ll remember how you like your tea in the morning.

You don’t think your ex ever loved you, and you don’t really blame him for that. He liked you, certainly, and for a long time that was enough for you. But now, with it being over and him telling you he’d ‘met someone’, you want more out of your next relationship.

Then again, you’d thought that last time as well.

You’re grateful when Jungkook brings you your tea, tearing you away from thoughts you really don’t want to be having right now. He gives you a smile, then is quick to retreat back behind the counter, and something tells you that he has the same difficulties talking to people as you do.

That can’t make his job fun.

You’re soon able to immerse yourself in your work, much to your surprise. Usually, you’re hyper aware of your surroundings, and it’s hard to get work done unless you’re in a place that’s both quiet and familiar, but the atmosphere in here is so warm and pleasant that you’re able to relax and focus, all while drinking your tea and eating your sweets. It’s quite close to perfect, actually.

Which is why you jump violently when someone’s voice booms into the shop.

“Jeon Jungkook!”

You look up, panicked, and Jungkook turns around with the exact same look on his face. You don’t remember the doorbell ringing, so it has to be someone from the shop, and indeed, a tall man with short black hair walks in from the same place Jungkook entered. And your brain short-circuits.

It doesn’t happen all that often, for you to simply find yourself frozen because of how good-looking someone is, but in that case, you just can’t help it. The man who just walked in is tall, with very nice, broad shoulders, and the apron he is wearing underlines the muscles of his chest in ways you didn’t think were possible, but more than that, he’s also, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. When you glance at his plump, full lips, you find yourself having a hard time to tear yourself away. You’re relieved that you didn't have to order from him, because you’re sure it would have made you blush and stutter.

“Jungkook, there’s a mess in the back! What are you waiting fo—” Jungkook gives panicked glances in your direction, and the man catches your presence from the corner of his eyes, turning his sentence around as smoothly as is humanly possible, all while his lips curve up into a professional smile. “Ooh, hello, dear customer! I don’t think we’ve seen you here before, have we?”

A smile spills on your mouth, much to your surprise.

“No, it’s my first time here,” you answer. Your voice isn’t as strong as you’d like for it to be, but at least you didn’t choke. You suppose still being heartbroken serves as a shield against the man’s handsomeness. “I figured there’d be some discount after Valentine’s Day, and I was hungry, so…”

“You figured you’d kill two birds with one scone?” the man asks while Jungkook, behind him, silently smacks his forehead. You figure he’s heard it a million time before, but you haven’t, and you can’t help but laugh. That makes the man’s smile widen genuinely and his eyes crease.

“I guess you came up with the bakery name,” you chuckle.

“Absolutely. Isn’t it a great name?”

Jungkook shakes his head in disgust.

“It’s genius,” you say, and the man slams his hand on the table.

“See? I told you! Jungkook keeps saying that I have a terrible sense of humor—”

“I’ll be in the back if you need me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“Hey, what do we say to customers?”

“Ah— It was nice to meet you!” he says, turning around to look at you and he seems somewhat sincere. “I hope we’ll be seeing you again.”

Then he bows his head politely and disappears in the back of the shop. The other man — who you suppose is the owner of the place — watches, laughing fondly, but goes quiet after that, so you go back to your work.

You don’t stay around too long, not wanting to overstay your welcome, but you’re still the only one in the shop by the time you decide to walk out.

“Was the tea any good?” the man asks as you walk by him.

You nod and smile.

“And the chocolates were delicious,” you add. “I’ll make sure to come back.”

“That’s music to my ears,” he says, dramatically putting a hand on his chest. That’s when you notice the ‘Seokjin’ tag on his apron. You don’t know what to do with that information, though. You don’t call strangers by their first name and you also don’t stalk people on line.

Especially not when you don’t have their last name.

You say a quick ‘goodbye’, then walk out. Jin’s eyes follow you for a few seconds, before he sighs and turns around, already taking off his apron.

“Jungkook!”

The boy is quick to appear again, scanning the shop for your presence.

“She’s gone?” he asks, and Jin gives a slap at the back of his employee's head with a groan. There’s no strength in it, though, and Jungkook barely reacts to it.

“How could you run away like that, you little—”

Jungkook easily avoids him when Jin tries to him it again, laughing at his outrage.

“We’re not going to be getting a lot more clients today, are we?” he asks, looking outside at the passers-by that don’t even spare a glance at the little shop.

“No,” Jin groans, letting himself fall on a chair.

The depressing calm that follows what is possibly the busiest day of the year for him is just one of the reasons why he absolutely despises Valentine’s Day.

February 22nd

When you show up at the bakery again, about a week later, you’re feeling surprisingly good about it. Last time went well, you decided, and the people were nice, so you’re not afraid to throw a quiet but polite “Hello!” when you walk in. It’s kind of funny — or is it sad — how it always surprises you when people are nice to you, much more used to passive disinterest at best.

There’s another man in the shop this time, with a laptop and a coffee in front of him, but he doesn’t look up at you. A head lifts up from behind the counter though. You feel vaguely embarrassed that you remember this one is Seokjin, and you only feel more awkward when he gives you a dazzling smile.

A glance at the display tells you that they have restocked on their strawberry-based pastries, and you happily pick a slice of cake for yourself.

“For here or to go?”

“I’ll have it here,” you say with a smile. You feel strangely proud of yourself for being able to say it spontaneously. He has no way of knowing it, but it’s quite the victory for you. Usually, you try to run from the presence of others as fast as you can, and it’s even worse those days. “And I’ll also have Darjeeling tea with it, please.”

“Coming right up, just take a seat and I’ll bring it to you,” he says, and then he winks. He doesn’t stick around to see the surprised look on your face, so you just do as he told you, wondering if he was flirting with you or if he’s just Like That. You think that second explanation might be the answer.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says when he arrives with the cake and the tea. You’re pretty sure he can’t place you exactly, just thinks your face is familiar, but it still makes you happy.

He tells you he hopes you’ll come back when you leave, and you decide you want to believe it.

June 1st

You’re not sure when you become an official ‘regular’ at the bakery. Maybe it’s when you ask Jin if they even do scones, and he leans over the counter to tell you conspiratorially that he actually wanted to call the shop ‘bake it ’til you make it’, but was told it was too long. That elicits a brief burst of laughter from you, and Jungkook tells you to stop encouraging him, but Seokjin looks so happy with himself when you laugh that you decide not to listen to him. Jin has that way of breaking past your shyness that fascinates you. It might be what keeps you coming back, more than the delicious sweets and how beautiful the two workers look.

Or maybe it’s when Jin tells you that it’s not fair you know their names but they don’t know yours, and that he’d ask you for your ID before selling you stuff if you don't tell him. When you tell him, he repeats it a couple of times, like he’s tasting it, before nodding with satisfaction. After that, him and Jungkook start greeting you with it, and insist you do the same with them. You’re reluctant at first, feeling somewhat confused about the whole thing, but it turns out to feel… nice, to have people to greet, and who also know your name.

Maybe it’s when Jin tells you that you’re late when you come in, or complains when you don’t show up on one of your usual days because you had a meeting with your boss. He doesn’t say anything on the day where you take your pastries to go because you’re visiting a friend at the hospital, though, and you wonder if he can just tell. Regardless, you appreciate it.

You find out about other people who come here frequently, too, and especially the ones who are friends with Jin and Jungkook. Namjoon, who sits with his laptop at the opposite end of the café from you. Yoongi, who usually sits in the same spot as you, and eyes you threateningly when he comes in and you’re there the first time, until Seokjin tells him to knock it off. Taehyung and Jimin, who always come in together, and who Jungkook usually joins to bicker and laugh with them. Hoseok, who likes to waltz in at random times, and whose smile actually rivals Jin’s.

You yourself come in twice a week, getting to your usual place to work — except on the couple of occasions where Yoongi gets there before you and gives you a triumphant smile when he sees you. You enjoy the way you’re always greeted by Jungkook or Seokjin, like they’re genuinely happy to see you. You discover that the old ladies who come here to gossip love to flirt with Jin and that, even though he flirts back outrageously, much to their delight, his ears tend to turn a bright red when he does.

You even bring your friends on a couple of occasion, and Seokjin jokes that you’re responsible for half of his turnover at this point. Your friends enjoy the food, and the drinks, but they enjoy the handsome employees and customers a lot more.

“So this is where all the hot men were,” Hana marvels when you walk out, and you burst out laughing. You like that you’ve shared this place with her, because it’s something that makes you really happy these days, motivates you to come out of your bed, and even to talk to people, something you’ve never been good at.

When you walk into the shop and make small talk with the people you’ve come to know, something you used to consider yourself terrible at, it might be silly, but it kind of feels like home.

June 21st

You are pretty sure you know when you go from regular to friend, though. It’s a day like any other and you hum on your way to the shop. Instead of the joyful “Welcome back, (Y/N)!” that you’ve gotten used to hearing these past few weeks, however, you’re greeted with Seokjin shouting “(Y/N), my savior!”.

You freeze on the spot and give him a worried look. From his table, Namjoon looks up, just as puzzled.

“Is everything okay, Jin?” he asks.

“Jungkook isn’t there today,” Jin tells you. His voice doesn’t sound different from usual, but there is a glint of panic in his eyes.  “I need your help.”

Namjoon stands up.

“Why didn’t you ask me? I could—”

“Stay where you are and don’t even think of approaching my kitchen,” Jin says threateningly. “(Y/N)? Please?”

Well. You suppose your work can get done later. You’re more productive when you come here, so you have some advance on your usual deadlines these days. But you don’t know what Jin wants from you and you’ve never worked in a bakery.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask cautiously.

He grabs your shoulders and your eyes widen at the contact. Not that it’s unpleasant, just unexpected.

“I knew when you first walked in here that you were a godsend,” he tells you seriously, looking right into your eyes, and you tell yourself that if he’s that good of an actor, you should probably watch out. “We’re out of milk.”

You blink.

“Okay. Is there a specific type of milk you want?”

“Just, milk. Get me milk and I’ll worship the ground you walk on until the end of days.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and take your bag off your shoulder, handing it to him.

“Look after that, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll protect it with my life,” he says solemnly. “Also paper napkins please!” he shouts as you’re already walking out.

“Will do!”

“Bake a leg!”

You want to protest the joke that even you find to be quite bad, but the door has already closed behind you, so you just shake your head at him, only to see him laughing with satisfaction through the glass, and head to the nearest supermarket.

You come back with two big packs of milk and a lot of paper napkins, just as two men are exiting. You’ve seen them before, but they never stay to chat. Inside, Jin is juggling three women, and he looks more relieved than you’ve ever seen him when you walk in.

“I’ll help you with that,” Namjoon says immediately, bumping in the table as he gets up.

“If you break anything, I’ll kill you,” Jin warns him. He’s smiling like he’s joking, and his tone is light, like he doesn’t want to scare off his customers, but his eyes say he’s sincere.

You’re quick in the back, and Namjoon does drop the packs once, but nothing bad happens. He presses a finger against his lips to tell you to keep it a secret, and you grin without a word. Part of you is kind of wondering what you’re doing there, why Jin feels comfortable letting you in the back and why he asked you to do that, but you don’t have an issue with it, not by a long shot. This is… kind of fun, actually.

“Anything else you want me to do?” you ask Jin when you come out, and he looks at you in a pleading way.

“You don’t mind?”

Something tells you you shouldn’t accept too quickly, that you could end up in way over your head faster than you know. But his brown eyes are wide and desperate and you just can’t say no. So you smile and shake your head.

“Of course not. You look like you really need a hand here.”

“I do.”

That’s how you find yourself in an apron, with the cute, black hat Jin and Jungkook always wear on your head. Jin mostly sends you in the back to pick up things he needs, or makes you bring the beverages to the customers, which you’re thankful for, because that way you don’t have to greet anyone. Time flies quickly, and you can barely find a second to breathe for the first few hours.

“Sorry, it’s lunch time,” Jin grimaces as he passes you by, and you think to yourself that at least, it will get better, but it takes a while even after that, and when it’s done, Jin sends you to buy some more stuff from the supermarket, because as it turns out, things go fast.

Before you know it, it’s closing time, and you look outside in disbelief. The sky is starting to turn a nice pink, and other shops are putting up their shutters.

“You can go, if you want,” Jin tells you. He sounds terribly sorry, and that makes you feel bad. It’s such an unusual tone for him to have.

His offer is tempting, of course. Your feet hurt, your head aches a little from all the noise that never bothered you before but turns out to be a lot when you’re there all day, you’ve burned your hand against an oven, and you’ve found out that carrying things ends up really hurting your back. But you know that he’s experiencing the same thing you do, and you just don’t have the heart to abandon him here. Also, you’ve already lost your day, so you might as well help him out now.

“It’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you want me to help with anything?”

Cleaning up goes quietly in the main shop, and that soothes you a little. You don’t mind the silence, even enjoy it, and find yourself relaxing for the first time today. Surprisingly, you’re feeling… satisfied. It’s not something you would particularly look forward to doing again, but you’re happy you did it, happy you helped Jin, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something today, which is always a good thing.

“You have flour everywhere,” he tells you bluntly when you walk in the back of the shop, and you laugh.

“Well, it got everywhere,” you reply, trying to rub some off your face, and it’s Jin’s turn to laugh when you fail miserably.

You know you shouldn’t do it, but you gather a small handful of flour from the table, and throw it at him. A good chunk hangs in the air and makes you cough, but the rest does land on his apron. His mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape and you know you’ve messed up.

“Listen, I am so sorry—”

“No you’re not,” he says, taking a step towards you. His hand is on the table, which is covered with flour, and you swallow.

“Sure I am, Jin, please—”

But your pleas fall in deaf ears, and flour is soon flying your way. It’s your turn to stare at Jin in disbelief, and then you’re laughing, loud and clear.

Maybe that’s the exact moment when the two of you become friends — really friends.

Or maybe it’s seconds later, when the room you’re in turns into the scene for an all-out flour battle. Regardless, you’re laughing the whole way through, when you’re not choking on the flour hanging in the air. Jin’s laughter is quieter than yours, miles away from the booming and somewhat fake laugh you’re used to hearing from him.

The fight only escalates when Jin picks up an egg. You shake your head, mouth ‘no’, but he doesn’t listen, and after that, things get a lot messier. By the time the two of you, exhausted and bent in half because of how much you’ve been laughing, finally stop, you can feel yoke trickling down your back, and you know the sight can’t be pretty. Jin reaches out to you in a useless attempt to wipe some flour from your face, only to laugh more when it, of course, fails once more.

You try not to think about the jolt of electricity that ran through you when his fingers came in contact with your cheek.

“I’ll clean up in here,” he tells you, “but you should go take a shower upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, surprised. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of the fact that you don’t know him that well. In recent months, you’ve talked to him more than you do with your close friends, and you did just throw several eggs at him, but you don’t know him. You’re aware of the fact that he lives above the shop, but you’ve never been there. The two of you have never even exchanged numbers.

He makes dramatic hand gestures to signal you to get away, like you’re bothering him, and you leave with a last laugh. You don’t notice the way he looks up when you do, or the way it makes him smile. He can’t help it, he just loves that he makes you laugh.

You’re relieved to step into the shower, both because you’re happy to clean up and because there was something really awkward about being in Seokjin’s apartment for the first time, alone. The place was not quite as decorated as the bakery was, with paler colors. Walking through it, you had noticed big speakers, some books in a shelf, and a couple of cute plushes that you had had to resist not to fawn over. The place worked for him, you had decided. It was more understated than you would have expected when you had just started to know him, but it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Jin tends to be quiet when he doesn’t have to be ‘on’, and it’s something he doesn’t seem to feel he has to do around you anymore.

You sigh in pleasure when the hot water hits you, close your eyes. You’ve been craving it for hours now — long before the food battle with Jin. It helps relax your aching muscles, washes away all the sweat from the day, and you have to resist not to just let yourself fall down onto the floor. Your back hurts, but the worst part has to be your feet. You feel yourself gaining a lot more appreciation for Jin and Jungkook, who are always kind, smiling and polite despite all of this. The only thing that kept you from biting someone’s head off tonight was your crippling anxiety when it comes to interacting with strangers.

It’s almost funny now to think you used to feel that way around Jin.

You look around for some soap you could use, and in your search, you’re surprised to find shampoo that was definitely intended for a woman. You don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s no wonder that Jin would have a girlfriend, really, it’s the opposite that should shock you, but you still didn’t expect it. You force away the pinch in your chest. Jin is a new friend, you can’t have your heart fluttering like that.

You consider using it for half a second, before deciding that it would be very awkward if you came out smelling like his girlfriend. Instead, you do your best to get rid of any egg, and tell yourself you’ll wash your hair at home. You barely hear the sound of the door opening and closing over the water, and you’re startled by Jin’s voice outside the bathroom.

“You can take a towel from the chest of drawers,” he tells you, “and I’ll leave a shirt outside, if you want it.”

“Thank you!” you shout back.

Seokjin stands there a few seconds, before quickly shaking his head and walking away. He knows his ears are turning red, and he hates himself for it, but is it his fault, really? Is he supposed not to think about you, right now, in his shower, water running down your body? He never even thought to pretend he was that innocent.

He occupies himself by preparing a drink for the two of you, and then by cleaning around. He’s not particularly messy, though, and there isn’t much to do, so he ends up sitting on his couch, feeling awkward in his own house, and scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He freezes again when he hears the bathroom door open and close, guessing you’re picking up his shirt. Which means you’re— God what is wrong with him tonight? When did he regress to the state of a hormonal teenager?

He hopes he looks natural when you come out, because he’s doing his best for that. The nervous way he’s running his hands over his thighs would probably give him out, though, if you weren’t feeling just as stressed as him.

“I’m done,” you mumble, your shyness coming back, which you decide is to be expected in that situation.

It vanishes the second Jin looks you over and snorts.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, glancing down, and immediately you know that you’re probably ridiculous in his black shirt. It looks like it’s swallowing you whole. “It’s not my fault if your shoulders are that broad,” you pout.

“You look so small,” Jin chuckles. He sounds endeared, and if you noticed that sort of things, you would absolutely realize that his eyes linger on you in his clothes fondly — and a little longer than necessary.

“Want something to drink?” he asks, gesturing at the stuff he got out of the fridge when he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Sure,” you smile, letting yourself fall down on the couch next to him and pouring yourself a glass. The brief awkwardness that washed over you when you came in vanishes already, because of how comfortable you feel around Jin. He’s always been good at making you feel that way, and now he doesn’t even have to try.

“So, how did you find your day?” he asks you, and you look at him, surprised by his tone. He sounds quiet, cautious almost, like he’s worried about what your reaction might be, or that he could be bothering you.

“Fine,” you say with a shrug. “I can’t say I’d want to do it again— When is Jungkook coming back?”

Jin chuckles, and again, it takes you by surprise. It’s so… quiet. So discreet, compared to his usual attitude.

“He should be there tomorrow, don’t worry about it.” Then, he grimaces. “But seriously, thank you for helping out today. I owe you.”

“Yes you do,” you say with a grin, bumping your shoulder against his, trying to lift the mood a little, because he sounds genuinely worried. “Just offer me the tea next time, and I’ll consider us even.”

Finally, a smile forms on his lips, and he shakes his head dramatically, putting his hand over his heart.

“No, I don't think I could ever repay you,” he says, and you laugh at his antics, like you always do. He looks a little appeased by that, and that’s a relief. “Your back must hurt,” he says. “Turn around.”

You raise an eyebrow, but do as he says, startling when his hands fall on your shoulders. They’re large, engulfing you easily, but they also move gently as he slowly massages you.

“Oh,” you gasp, leaning back into him. This is— good. This is very very good. For a few minutes — or maybe much longer, you couldn’t tell — you just stay there, eyes closed, lips parted, focused on the delicious feelings of his hands gently rubbing all the pain and soreness of the day away. When he stops, it takes you a few seconds to come back down to reality, and maybe, just maybe you miss the feeling of his hands. “Oh,” you repeat, rolling your shoulders slowly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jin says. “It’s kind of my fault.”

You turn around, shaking your head.

“Seokjin,” you say. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind helping.”

“You’re too kind,” he frowns. “You shouldn’t let people take advantage of that.”

“I’m not!”

Then Jin smiles, in a way that only lifts one corner of his lips, and suddenly you feel— you’re not too sure. Something seems to melt inside you, something moves in your stomach like you’re free falling. You probably should recognize the feeling. It’s not like it’s anything new to you, and yet you miss it. You do something you almost never do in that situation, and you take a step back. You glance up from his lips, shoot him a smile, and get up from the couch.

“It’s getting late,” you comment. “I really need to go home.”

Jin is on his feet immediately.

“I’ll walk you back,” he says, concern flashing in his eyes.

“I’m good. It’s not that far and I need to clear my head after, you know, everything today.” You’re not sure you know, but Jin nods, though a little reluctantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Very.”

He sighs. He doesn’t seem too pleased about it, but you guess he doesn’t want to insist too much, either.

“Give me your phone,” he says, and when you hand it to him, he types his number in, pouting as he explains himself to you. “Text me when you get home, alright? Otherwise I’ll just worry all night, because everyone is so unreasonable, and just wants me to lose sleep, and—”

You take your phone back from him with a laugh.

“I’ll text you,” you promise, briefly putting your hand over his. That feels— normal, you decide. It’s not like your hands have never brushed in the months since you’ve started frequenting the bakery. It just feels fine, and whatever there was before could just be a false alert. But then Jin looks into your eyes, and the feeling comes back.

“You better.”

You practically flee the bakery. You’re trying to make sense of the whole thing in your head, and it doesn’t go over great. You let Jin know you got home safe, and then do your best to push the whole thing out of your mind when you go to bed. You refuse to think about it too much. Not because you don’t understand what’s going on, but because somewhere, deep down, you do. This isn’t— this isn’t something you do. You fall hard and fast, that’s— that’s your thing.

Sometimes it’s nice, others it’s disappointing, but most importantly, it means that when the relationship is over, your life just goes back to what it was before. It you ever had feelings for a friend, someone you’re so used to having around… You’re sure it would truly break your heart.

July 15th

Summer is horribly hot this year. Fortunately for you, your favorite bakery has started serving ice cream. There is air conditioning in the store, but with the door constantly opening and closing, gusts of hot air regularly reach even you. No one seems too happy with the situation, with Jungkook seeming to slowly come apart under the temperature. Even Namjoon has abandoned ship, leaving much earlier than usual today. He waved at you when he got out, and you waved back.

Who knew, maybe the two of you would actually talk next time.

Jin uses a lull in the otherwise busy afternoon to drop at your table, and you smile to him. You haven’t really gone through anything like that night ever since, and you decided it was just a one time thing. You were tired from the work, and you were touch-starved, and, surely, there was nothing there, other than you gaining a new friend.

Yup. Nothing to see at all. Even when he’s sitting next to you, trying to fan himself with one of the bakery’s menus, head thrown back in a way that makes his Adam’s apple even more prominent.

You never thought yourself as someone who particularly enjoyed necks, but it seems you were wrong.

Not that that has anything to do with feelings, of course. Jin’s just hot. You already knew that.

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s your favorite cake?” he asks you.

It takes you just a second too long to answer.

“Uh. Anything that has strawberries in it, I guess,” you say, and he nods, but he’s also frowning. “Are my tastes not up to par?” you grin, raising an eyebrow.

“Clearly, your tastes are great, since you keep coming back,” Jin answers immediately, with the confidence that you now know to be mostly facade, but that you’ve still come to love. “No, strawberries are good. I can work with strawberries.”

“I actually wanted strawberries the first time I came here,” you reminisce. “But there weren’t any left because that was after Valentine’s Day.”

Jin clicks his tongue in disgust.

“Worst day of the year,” he says, “though February is a bad month for strawberries in general.”

“You don’t like Valentine’s Day?” you ask, and if you were a dog, your ears would be perking up with interest. You’ve always loved to hear people’s opinion on the holiday, because it’s so divisive. “You guys must make quite a lot of money…”

“I’m wounded that you’d think money is all I care about,” Jin sighs dramatically, though the glint in his eyes lets you know that he’s only joking. “It’s just very busy,” he admits. “It’s a lot of work to prepare, people place a lot of orders, and we basically don’t get a minute to ourselves. Not to mention— do you know what it does to a person to know that the food he lovingly prepared is probably going to be eaten off someone’s body?”

You can’t help it. You burst out laughing. When you do, you’re completely unaware of the fond way Jin looks at you. He’s always liked that he made you laugh, from the very first day you came into the store.

“No,” you admit, “no, I haven’t thought about it.”

“Well I have to.”

“I’m so sorry for you.”

“I’m sorry for me too.”

Then Jimin practically waltzes in and energetically greets everyone in the room, including you, and Jin gets up to serve him and Taehyung because Jungkook looks like he’s about to collapse, and you don’t give much more thought to the conversation.

But Jin remembers that strawberry cake is your favorite.

September 18th

Somehow, you get roped into helping Jin with his grocery shopping. He sat at your table and complained about how Jungkook wouldn’t be able to help him that week, and you voiced your sympathy, and next thing you knew, you were in the supermarket with him.

Well, maybe you’d offered your help. Maybe you just didn’t want to admit it because of that time he’d told you you were too kind.

“You know, I thought I’d be helping you for the bakery,” you comment, “but this mostly looks like it’s for you.”

“I am the bakery,” Jin replies, and you grin.

You watch him as he carefully crosses item after item of his detailed list. You expected him to be messy, to grab whatever he wanted, but he is as meticulous with this as he is with the baking he does for his customers. Which is— strangely endearing to you.

“Most of what we get comes in bigger orders,” he explains to you once he’s done with that aisle. “Sometimes, we find ourselves missing some things…”

“Like milk.”

“It’s always the milk,” he sighs, shaking his head it brings back bad memories. “But that’s not an issue for a lot of thing, unless something very specific comes up. Like a customer wanting  a pineapple pie.”

You tilt your head as he cautiously picks pineapples. You’re not even sure how you can tell if a pineapple is ripe, but he looks like he knows what he’s doing.

“That sounds… interesting?”

“It’s going to sound very interesting when I’ll make you carry half the bags,” Jin says, and you roll your eyes. Does he think you’re going to bail on him? You would never do that.

Well. Until your eyes fall on Minho, standing there, like he hasn’t simply vanished from your life six months ago. There’s a woman with him, and she’s laughing at something he said. You suppose she was the one he met — or maybe another one, there’s no way of knowing, really. But they look like they’re getting along well, and it— it makes you happy. You think.

“Huh,” you mumble. “That’s my ex over there.”

Jin looks up so fast you worry he might hurt his neck.

“What? Where? Do you need me to insult him?”

You’re about to say no when Minho turns around, and his eyes meet yours. He gives you a hesitant nod, and you think that’s going to be it, but then, after a few seconds of obvious inner debate, he makes his way towards you.

Great.

“(Y/N),” he says, a bit awkwardly. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you reply softly and, much to your surprise, you mean it. You did your best not to let yourself miss him, but you suppose you did. It’s been a long time since you last saw him.

“This is, erm, this is Lisa,” he says, gesturing at the woman, who gives you a polite smile. It looks like she knows exactly who you are, and you suppose it must be uncomfortable for her as well. “My girlfriend.”

Yeah. You’d pieced that together. But then, Minho’s eyes move to Jin, and he raises an eyebrow, and you realize what he’s thinking about.

“Oh, this is—”

“Seokjin,” Jin says, extending his hand. “I’m her boyfriend.”

You’re sure that anyone looking at you can tell from your expression, from the way your mouth falls open and from the incredulous way you shake your head that that’s not true, but both Minho and Lisa are looking at him, and miss it completely. When Jin looks at you, he gives an imperceptible nod and puts an arm around your shoulders.

The warmth is— kind of nice. Maybe it even sends a shiver down your back, but you’re sure it’s because you’re still quite touch-starved those days.

Nothing else here.

“That’s great,” Minho says, and he looks relieved. “It’s great that you’re with someone.”

“Isn’t it?” Jin says before you can think of anything to answer to that. “She walked into my bakery and I just knew she would become my favorite client. Basically love at first sight.”

“Love at first sale, maybe,” you can’t help but answer, even if you know, reasonably, that you shouldn’t entertain him. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to show off in front of the two, which is really unnecessary, but you appreciate the gesture. “Jin makes the best cakes you can find in the whole town,” you tell them. Not to show off, but because it’s true. There are a lot of good things you could tell them about Jin, come to think of it. A lot.

“Maybe we should try it then,” Lisa says, smiling. She looks more relaxed than earlier, though you suppose she could also just be trying to get out of this conversation.

“Oh, it’s a must,” you reply sincerely, and Jin laughs, pulling you against his chest a little.

“She’s too nice,” he says, and you immediately protest that no, definitely not, he does, and you’re sure you look like a very annoying couple, because it doesn’t take long for Minho to clear his throat.

“Well, we have to go but it was— it was nice catching up with you.”

“Same,” you nod, and when he leaves, you can’t help but watch him. You don’t really feel anything right now. You were sincerely happy to see him, but it felt like running into a childhood friend you haven’t seen in a long, long time, and now have nothing in common with outside of those memories. Except it hasn’t been a life time since you last met him. Just a little over six months. Soon, he’ll just be someone you used to know.

You wish you were more upset by this. You wish there was anything that told you that what you had with him actually mattered. Instead, this vague indifference lets you know that your paths had probably diverged before the two of you even broke up. And that makes you kind of sad.

“Are you okay?” Jin asks. He has that quiet voice you’ve heard a few times now.

“I’m fine,” you nod, “but you really didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t— Minho and I aren’t— there really was no need.”

“I was happy to do it,” Jin says, and you notice how petty he sounds. “It’s always a joy to let an ex see how much better than them you’re doing.”

You laugh. You probably agree with him on that, but you’re not going to help feed his ego even more. Jungkook would probably never forgive you for it.

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you doing that,” you observe, and Jin answers that remark with a blank stare.

“When have I ever said anything about a girlfriend?”

“Well, there was a bottle of shampoo at your place that—”

“So a guy can’t like having his hair smell like fruit, huh?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Wow, way to reinforce stereotypes, (Y/N). I expected more of you.”

He ignores your attempts at protesting and strides away from you. It takes you a few moments to catch up, because of his stupid long legs of his.

“If I had a girlfriend, I would never stop talking about her,” he lets you know while you’re catching your breath. “So don’t worry. You’ll know about it.”

“Duly noted,” you say. You maybe feel a little too happy about that new information so, to distract yourself from it, you change the subject. “So I’m your favorite customer?”

He scoffs and glances away from you, refusing to meet your eyes. He thought you hadn’t picked up on that.

“You’re a strong contestant, I guess,” he says reluctantly, and you laugh, not pushing it further.

“Anyway— Minho broke up with me a week Valentine’s Day,” you say. You’re not sure why. Maybe to let Jin that you’ve been over it for a long time.

“That’s rude,” Jin comments with a disapproving click of his tongue.

“He probably wanted to spend it with her,” you shrug. “When we got together, he told me he didn’t cheat. He left. So— I guess that was it.” Then there’s a laugh, and you can’t tell if it sounds bitter. You hope not. “I’ve actually never had a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day,” you confess.

The silence that follows is unusual for Jin. When you glance up at him, he’s just looking at you, and for a second, you think it’s pity you find in his eyes. But, from the way he frowns, you realize it could just be genuine sympathy.

“Would it make you feel better if I tell you it’s a terrible holiday that’s just there to sell things?”

“I already know that,” you chuckle, even if it does make you feel a little better. “I just want someone to buy me roses once, you know?”

Jin doesn’t answer, just looks at you, and something about the intensity of his stare makes you feel— feel things you told yourself you weren’t feeling for him. But then, you just ran into Minho, didn’t you? It makes sense that you would be all over the place emotionally.

“Anything more on your list?” you ask, and Jin blinks.

“Yeah, that way,” he says, sounding a bit off, but then he adds “More things for you to carry,” and you decide to brush it off.

But he stores the information in his mind. Strawberry cake and roses. Duly noted.

October 31st

“So do you actually like Halloween, or is this just another shameless cash grab for you?” you ask Jin when he brings you your tea.

You have to admit, him and Jungkook truly went all out for this. They’ve decorated the shop with pumpkins, and there are fake bats hanging from the ceiling. There are also themed cakes and chocolates shaped like spiders. It’s spooky, and it delights the kids that come in and ask the parents about it. You definitely appreciate the atmosphere it creates — and you also appreciate the way Hoseok jumped when he walked in front of the witch that lets out an evil laugh when someone passes the movement detector.

“Halloween is not terrible, I guess,” Jin says, like him and Jungkook don’t take a full day out of their schedules and bring in some friends just to decorate the shop. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you answer sincerely, and Jin’s expression softens.

“Hey, we’re having a small get-together after closing tonight,” he tells you spontaneously. “Wanna join us?”

You take a second to answer. It’s not like you don’t want to — far from that — but there’s that voice inside of you that tells you that you’ve been weird around Jin, and you don’t want to be weird around him. You want to keep things as they are, because he’s such a wonderful friend to have around. You’d hate yourself if you changed that.

But if the point is to have him around, then surely, telling him no right now would be counter-productive, right?

“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and Jin beams, and you feel all warmed-up inside.

You already know that you’ll have fun, and you’ll laugh, and he’ll insist on walking you him and you’ll tell him no. And it sounds exactly like how you want to spend your evening.

January 10th

You first meet Sungho on New Year’s Eve, at Hana’s party. The two of you click immediately, and you enjoy the familiar rush of feelings, the waiting for a text after you’ve given him your number, the anticipation of knowing where this is all leading, if everything goes right. After a week, you run into him at the bakery, or, well, you’re sitting in your usual corner when he comes in. He doesn’t see you immediately, but when he looks in your direction after a little while, you happily wave him over.

“You don’t usually come here, do you?” you ask him. “I would have seen you by now if you were a regular.”

He chuckles, flashes you a bright smile, and you smile in return. Sungho has a nice smile. He doesn’t laugh easily, though, from what you saw when you met him, which is a shame, but definitely not a dealbreaker, even if you love to hear people laugh.

“No, I saw you were talking about this place a lot online, and I figured I would come and check it out. Of course, seeing you here is the best part,” he adds with a wink, and he leans towards you a little. The obvious flirtation sends a wave of heat through your chest, and you don’t hesitate to lean forward as well, resting your elbow on the table and putting your chin on your hand. You enjoy the closeness, the proximity, the chase.

You pull away when Jin arrives with Sungho’s order.

“This looks great,” Sungho comments. “I’m glad (Y/N) advertised you so much.”

“Well, there’s a reason she’s our favorite customer,” Jin replies, smiling, and when you meet his eyes, they’re fond and— and something else that makes it hard to breathe for a second.

But the smile fades when Sungho takes a portion of his cake with the spoon and offers it to you.

“Wanna try it?” he asks, and you do, because you know everything Jin makes will be amazing. You’re not sure you love the gesture itself — it’s kind of cute, but you’ve also just met him and it feels a bit strange — but you still giggle and take the bite.

And all Jin can do is stand there, looking at the two of you. He feels something he has felt before, and it’s that he let something he wanted pass him by. He waited too long to make a move, once again, and once again, it’s cost him something he doesn’t know how he’ll live without, and now he’ll have no choice but to figure it out.

You glance up, and he catches himself, plastering a smile on his lips.

“Enjoy yourselves!” he says, a little too loudly, and he knows, from the way you blink and the puzzled look you give him, that you’ve noticed and it’s— it’s horrible. It’s horrible that you know him that well and that you’ve seen so many facets of him and you’ve chosen someone else. You don’t ask anything, though, and he’s quick to leave.

He’s also quick to ask Jungkook to replace him in the shop, and he, very deliberately, doesn’t ask anything about how things went. Doesn’t want to know if you kissed, or worse, if you left together.

He’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t been through before.

February 5th

You feel impossibly excited when Sungho asks you out for Valentine’s Day. You gush about it to your friends, a lot, and Hana is delighted for you — and very pleased that her circles of friends are meeting like that. Jungkook sounds happy, too, though slightly more reserved, but you get the type of enthusiasm you wanted from Jimin and Taehyung.

Jin gets quiet when you let him know, though. It’s not something you haven’t seen before, but it does take you off guard, because you’ve never seen it happen while in the shop, where he’s usually on top of his game.

“Are you okay?” you ask, worried, leaning over the counter to put a hand on his arm. “You look a little under the weather these days.”

He smiles, but it lacks his usual flamboyance.

“Valentine’s Day is coming,” he tells you. “The worst day of the year.”

You laugh at that, relax, and take your hand off. You miss the way his eyes fall on the place you were just touching.

“Well, not this year, hopefully. Not this year.”

Yeah. He’s not so sure about that.

February 14th

It’s your first time, ever, having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you’re determined to do everything right. Sungho is taking you to a fancy restaurant, so you decide there is no issue in going all out. You take the day to prepare yourself, enlist Hana to do your make-up and hair, and you use the opportunity to wear a lovely bright red dress that you had been saving for a special occasion.

Hana whistles when you come out of your room after you’ve also put on half-transparent black tights.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she says with an appreciative nod.

You glance down at your body self-consciously and try to smooth the fabric of the dress. You do think it looks pretty good, but you could be wrong. Does it show too much of your legs? Does it hug your curves too tightly?

“You think he’s going to like it?” you ask, somewhat shyly.

“He should if he knows what’s good for him,” she replies, expression turning murderous, before softening. “Just… Are you sure you want to be doing that?”

You give her a confused look.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, going out with Sungho,” she says with a vague hand gesture. “I just— I don’t know. Do you like him that much?”

It’s funny. You haven’t really asked yourself that question. You’ve just been going through all the usual motions — the flirting, the dates, and, inevitably, the start of the relationship, which is probably for tonight.

“We— we get along fine,” you answer. “I like him.”

You leave the words ‘well enough’ out of that sentence. You like Sungho well enough. But then, that’s always been good enough for you, so why should it change now?

Hana seems to think about it for a little while, then shrugs.

“Okay then. Do you need my help to walk to the cab? I would not trust these things.”

She’s pointing at your heels, and it makes you laugh. These aren’t even that high, and they’re pretty stable. You don’t think you’ll have any trouble walking in them. Hana wouldn’t abandon her flat shoes to save her life, though, so you suppose the question was to be expected.

“You can just tell me if you want to hold my arm,” you tease, and it seems to take her by surprise, before she chuckles.

“You’ve gotten a little too good at that. I don’t know if I like it.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid Jin has infected me.”

That gives her pause, and she shoots you a weird look, but you miss it. She opens her mouth to say something, then gives up. She could be wrong, after all.

She kind of hopes she’s wrong, or that if she’s right, you’ll realize it soon enough.

The dinner is perfect. You’re dressed perfectly for the occasion, fitting right in the restaurant’s decor, Sungho complimented you when you walked in and you told him he looked great, which is true, the food is delicious, the conversation flows easily, and there are roses on the table. They’re not for you, part of the decoration, and it doesn’t look like Sungho’s gotten you any, which gives you just a little pinch of disappointment in your chest, but it’s also not a big deal. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

And you’re not happy with it.

You can’t place it, and it slowly drives you insane, as you and Sungho make your way through the meal. You try your best not to let it show, but you think he notices your increasing restlessness. You feel bad about it, because really, he hasn’t done anything wrong. You just— something’s not right.

Dammit. It’s your first time having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you can’t make it work.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Sungho says while the two of you are waiting for your desert, and you do your best to snap out of whatever is going on in your head to focus on him.

“Tell me,” you smile, though the smile is polite, rather than genuine.

He takes a deep breath and reaches over the table to take your hand. It’s far from the first time the two of you make physical contact, you’ve even kissed a few times, and it was nice, but something makes you want to recoil, in that moment. You don’t, though. Why would you? It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about you makes sense right now.

“I like you,” he says, and you find the breath knocked out of you. It’s not unpleasant, though, it’s very nice in fact, and it almost completely dissipates your previous discomfort. “And I think— you know. We haven’t said anything about being exclusive yet, so I figured I’d— ask.”

He looks pretty confident, which you thought would put you off, but it doesn’t. The answer seems obvious to you. It’s been just a little over a year since you broke up with Minho, which is a reasonable time, so your lips part to let him know that you’d be happy to—

It’s then that you remember. You remember what you told yourself after that break-up, and what you thought after the break-up before that, and the time before as well. You remember you told yourself you wouldn’t settle for less than what you really wanted. You told yourself you wanted to love and be loved. You told yourself you wanted someone who’d remember how you liked your tea.

And, just like in a movie, Jin’s face appears in your mind. You almost dismiss it, tell yourself it’s just because of the tea, until you realize it’s not. It just isn’t. You should have noticed earlier, you know that, but you’ve never been friends with someone before developing feelings for them. You’ve always told yourself you were an ‘all or nothing’ kind of person, that you were the type to know immediately if things could happen. Maybe you didn’t quite believe in love at first sight, but you’d always thought that love didn’t wait.

Apparently you were wrong.

Jin’s the one who inadvertently makes you pulse rush, when his hand brushes against you. Jin’s the one who lifts your spirits, no matter what. Jin makes you happy, makes you want to get up in the morning, has done that for months now. Jin actually knows you. Jin looks at you like you’re precious to him. Maybe that doesn’t mean love, maybe to him, it’s all just friendship, but to you, it’s much more than that. And the feeling you get is so strong, so powerful, that you understand that you need to tell him. Need to tell him now.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Sungho, who’s been waiting for an answer all this time. “I’m really sorry, I don’t think that can work out.”

His face falls, but he looks far from heartbroken.

“Oh,” he says. “Um. That’s—”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, already getting up from your chair. You’re buzzing with excitement, with feelings. “I have to go. I’ll pay for the meal, okay?”

“No, don’t—”

“Sorry!”

You stop at the counter briefly before rushing out into the night. You feel that you know exactly where you need to be.

You get to the bakery minutes before closing time, which is exceptionally at 9 p.m. for the day. A couple is just coming out, and that leaves only Jungkook inside. There’s nothing left on display, and you know it’s been impossibly busy, which means Jin is probably in a bad mood, but you can’t wait until tomorrow. When you walk in, Jungkook looks up from behind the counter, clearly surprised by the sound of someone coming in that late, and a puzzled look settles on his face when he notices that you’re out of breath, your previously perfect make-up now looking a little worse for wear.

“Is everything alright?” he asks. He sounds worried, and any other day you would take the time to reassure him, but in that moment you’re pushed by an energy that can’t be stopped, so you just nod quickly as an answer.

“Is Jin here?”

“In the back,” he says, tilting his head in that direction, and you’re pretty sure a glint of understanding lights up in his eyes.

“Can I….?”

He nods, a grin on his lips, and now you’re sure he knows why you’re here. You don’t wait for him to tease you about it, quick to make your way past him.

You freeze the second you walk into the backroom, though. It’s not just because of Jin’s back, though that definitely has more of an effect on you than you’d like to admit — the broad shoulders, the muscular back, and inexplicably, the nape of his neck. It’s also because of the large bouquet of red roses, standing in a vase on the table next to him. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at them. They look beautiful, vibrant, their fragrance floating through the room, all the way to you.

“Who are the roses for?” you ask, making Jin jump.

Any other time, you would have been pleased to take him by surprise for once, but right now you’re hanging on his words, waiting for an answer. The air feels heavy between you, and it doesn’t help that he doesn’t answer immediately, swallowing silently as his eyes travel over your body. You had almost forgotten about the dress you were wearing, and, instead of making you feel comfortable and confident, like it had earlier, you feel naked and vulnerable under his gaze.

Finally, his eyes meet yours, mouth slightly open, and by that point your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if he has any idea of how you’re feeling right now. Had he noticed your feelings when even you weren’t aware of them?

“What?” he croaks, voice dry, like he’s forgotten what you said.

“The roses,” you repeat. “Who are they for?”

You need an answer. Desperately.

Jin’s eyes move to the roses, and his face falls. He turns his back to you again as he goes back to whatever he’s cleaning.

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?”

You shrug, though he can’t see it.

“I broke things off with him,” you say lightly, and you don’t miss the way his movements pause, or the way his shoulders tighten, for half a second, before he keeps moving. “Are you— are you meeting someone?”

“No,” he protests immediately. “You know I don’t believe in Valentine’s day.”

You do. You remember that. So you wait for an explanation. It takes a while, and you just wait silently behind him, suspecting that he’s waiting for you to go away. After a few minutes, though, he slams his hand on the table, still not looking at you.

“They’re for you, okay? You said you’d always wanted roses for Valentine’s Day, and I figured, maybe your stupid boyfriend didn’t know that yet, and that I could maybe just drop them off at your place, and—”

“You didn’t ask me why I broke up with him,” you interrupt him, cutting his rambling short, and he falls silent. You catch his eyes from over his shoulder. Finally, you’re feeling yourself calm down, and at the same time you’re practically shaking with anticipation. “I realized I had feelings for someone else,” you say when he still doesn’t ask, just watching you, lips tight.

“…You do?” he simply says in reply. He’s tense, guarded, and you take a careful step towards him.

“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes aren’t leaving his, not even for a second. “He’s smart, and kind, and handsome.” You take a step for each description you give, and you can’t help but smile on the last word. But your smile doesn’t reach Jin’s lips, and he’s just looking at you like he’s expecting you to tell him someone else’s name, or to make fun of him. “And he makes me laugh,” you add quietly, as you get to him, leaning against the table. “A lot. Some have even said it was a little too much.”

“So who is he?” he asks, and you smile. It’s wild to you that you haven’t understood earlier how absolutely head over heels in love with him you are, especially right now, when you’re standing so close to him. It’s also wild that he can’t see it, because you feel as though you’re radiating with that emotion, feel that anyone should be able to tell.

“It’s you,” you breathe out. “It’s obviously you.”

Then you’re pushing yourself up against his mouth, soft and slow. One of his hands closes around your waist as he leans forward, towering over you. His eyes are shut, and you close your own, reveling in the feeling of his warm body pressed against your own. You feel his tongue darting out to brush against your lips, and they part to grant him access, eager to taste all of him and—

“Couldn’t you tell me that earlier?” Jin protests loudly, tearing himself away from you, and your eyes snap open. “I would have planned the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever—”

You groan and cut him off with another kiss, faster and harder this time, grabbing his wrists to guide his hands to your hips. You moan in contentment into his mouth when he kisses you back and he swallows it eagerly, pressing you into the table, bodies meeting like they’ve been waiting for it for forever and you—

“I wanted to make you an amazing strawberry cake! Now I don’t have any strawberries left!”

“Jin, please,” you sigh, unable to tolerate any other interruption, “would you just shut up and kiss me?”

And, finally, he does. Holds you like he never wants to let you go, kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, and when the two of you part, he rests his forehead against yours like he can’t bear the thought of being away from you even for a second. The silent stretches, comfortable, only filled with your respirations, until someone clears their throat, and the two of you jump away from each other.

“Sorry,”Jungkook says with a shit-eating grin that tells you he’s not sorry at all, “but I was about to leave. Will the two of you be okay?”

“I’m sure we can work things out without you,” Jin says. “Goodbye!”

But Jungkook doesn’t leave right away, turning his smile to you. You would hide into Jin’s shoulder, but you feel so good you can’t be bothered right now.

“Goodbye (Y/N)!”

“Bye, Jungkook!”

“That kid, I swear,” Jin says, shaking his head, as Jungkook leaves, his laugh hanging in the air behind him for a few seconds.

“I quite like him,” you comment, fingers dancing down Jin’s neck to come trace the border of his shirt.

“Oh, you do?” There is a dangerous edge to his tone and you glance up, surprised.

“Are you jealous?” you ask. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

“I’m not.”

“Because it’s not Jungkook I abandoned my date for.”

“Good that you did. I never liked him.”

“So you are jealous.”

Seokjin mumbles something incomprehensible and you laugh and hug him tighter. And when he asks you if you want to come upstairs, even if he doesn’t have the perfect Valentine’s Day dinner planned, even if really, all he has to offer is himself, you tell him yes, of course.

Because he’s all you want right now.

It turns out, you wouldn’t have eaten the dinner anyway. The second the door closes behind you, you’re pulling him down against you for a kiss, and he doesn’t oppose any resistance, doesn’t protest like he did before, just lets out a moan into your mouth. He’s just as eager as you are to get rid of that tight dress.

“Careful with the tights,” you warn when his hands start roaming your thighs.

“Take them off then,” he groans.

You press a few kisses against his mouth, feeling delighted with the way he restrains himself, hands turning into fists against your hips as he stops himself from tearing off your closes. Finally, you pull away with a giggle. His eyes are wide and dark with desire, and they only get wider when you playfully slide off your dress’ strap.

“Don’t tease,” he says, practically growls, but you decide that you will. You guide him to his couch, push him down onto it, and evade him when he tries to pull you down with him, slipping out of his grasp. You stand just out of his reach, but more than close enough to be tantalizing, and you see in his eyes that it’s working just fine.

You take the time of making a show out of sliding down your dress down your body, letting it pool down at your feet before stepping out of it. The heels are the next thing to go, and then, finally, the offending tights. The second you’re out of those, Seokjin pounces, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto the couch.

“If you want us to move this to the bedroom, now would be a good time to say it,” he says as he kisses your neck, hands traveling up and down your body, large and calloused, but kind and gentle.

“I’m good here,” you say, arching your back to grant him better access — and to roll your hips against him. “Are you good here?”

You feel his breath catching in his throat when you move, as well as something hard pressing against you in his pants, and his voice is slightly choked when he answers.

“Yeah. This would happen at some point anyway.”

You laugh. You can’t wait to try this in all the places the two of you can think of in his apartment.

“Then let’s get to it, shall we?”

Jin doesn’t seem to have anything to answer to that, especially not when you hook your leg around his, using your heel to push him down on top of you. He’s still dressed, but you plan on rectifying that. You stop kissing him to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he lets you, breathing heavily. Your fingers explore the skin you reveal in the process, and you’re delighted when he shivers as you find out where his sensitive spots are — right under his collarbone, his nipples, his ribs.

Finally, the shirt joins your dress on the floor. You take a second to marvel at his body. His shoulders are even nicer to look at like that, you decide. You capture Jin’s mouth again, this time with your hands fisting his hair. You’re feeling yourself growing more impatient, wetter, and while your panties are the only thing still covering your body, he’s still wearing pants — which is far too much clothing.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper to him, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Fuck. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

That makes you grin, and you arch your back into him again, pressing yourself against his now rock hard crotch.

“Oh, I think I do,” you reply devilishly, and all Jin does is to bury his head into your neck. His fast breathing tickles your skin, and you love it. You love discovering that you have that effect on him, love how you can make him come undone. Another night, you might really, really enjoy teasing him about it, but you have something else on your mind tonight.

Your hand travels down his body to palm him through his pants, and he groans, bucking his hips against it involuntarily.

“Let me take care of that?” you offer, and he pulls away to raise an eyebrow at you.

Wordlessly, you guide him so he’s sitting on the couch, and then, without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees. You watch as his eyes go wide and he swallows loudly. You don’t give him time to regain his composure, gently nudging his legs apart so you can place yourself there comfortably.

“Fuck,” he repeats as your hands travel over his thighs before unbuckling his belt.

He lifts himself off the couch so you can slide down his pants and underwear, and that leaves him in his naked glory. And boy, is he glorious, dick standing erect and proud, precum already dripping from the tip. You suppose it’s been a while since the last time he had any sort of intercourse, and so you decide that you will do everything that’s in your power to make it worth his while.

You do your best to maintain eye contact with him while you lean forward to gently take in the head of his cock, wrapping your red lips around it as your hand grips the base.

“Ah,” he gasps, and you wonder if he gets loud during sex.

You hope he does.

You mostly tease him at first, running your tongue over the tip, and you feel his hand grabbing the back of your head gently. He doesn’t try to control your pace or to push you down. He seems to just be anchoring himself as he lets you do whatever you want. Glancing up, you see that he’s thrown his head back and his mouth is hanging open, letting out quiet moans that sometimes get high-pitched.

For some reason, the sight of his exposed throat turns you on impossibly. You slide a hand down your body to try to get some relief as well, and you moan loudly when your fingers finally find your clit. The vibrations have Jin push his hips up as his hands tighten on you. A second later, his eyes snap open.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, “I don’t mind but— Do you have a condom somewhere?”

He hesitates, then reaches for the coffee table. He opens the drawer, rummages through it quickly, and finds what he’s looking for.

“Taehyung said it was good to have them all over the house, just in case,” he feels obligated to explain to you, even while he struggles to open it and to put it on.

Well, you owe Taehyung one, you decide, but now really is not the time to discuss that, so you pull him down for quick kiss before he can lose himself in his ramble.

“Want you now,” you tell him, and it sounds like an order.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, pulling you back up onto the couch.

Your panties are soon gone, and he spreads your legs open with utmost care. Even if you’re pretty sure he could just slide right in, with how wet you are, he pushes a long finger inside you, then another.

“You’re so wet for me,” he marvels. “So wet, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much yet,” you moan. “There’s still work to be done here.”

His eyes are full of love when he looks at you, taking in your body, now completely naked and offered. Just for him.

“Oh, I’ll do it. Don’t you worry about that.”

You’re about to call him out for his cockiness when he lines his cock with your entrance, tip rubbing against your folds, and you close your mouth instead, wisely choosing not to provoke him when he could so easily make you pay for it by making you wait. Except it seems he’s just as impatient as you, because he pushes himself inside you without pause.

You moan and shift to accommodate the stretch, and Seokjin goes still on top of you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. You’re satisfied with the strain in his voice, like knowing you’re not the only one to be so affected here.

“Hmm,” you hum. “Can you— move? A little?”

He pulls out a little, experimentally, and you moan louder than before. It takes you a few minutes to figure out the pace, as your hips keep moving, desperately searching for more friction, but they’re not unpleasant, filled with kisses, sweet nothings and the feeling of his warm skin against yours. In those moments, you feel like you’re discovering him all over again, and you find yourself enjoying that more than you can say.

Finally, you find yourselves, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room, along with your loud, high-pitches moans, and Seokjin’s — softer, quieter, but definitely there. You meet each of his thrusts, with one hand between the two of you to rub against your clit. When you first clench around him, he finally lets out a moan that’s as loud as yours.

“Fuck, fuck, fffuck,” he says, head falling against you, cheek pressed against your collarbone. “If you— If you do that again I’ll— Wait, please, wait, wanna— wanna cum with you—”

You arch your back, your nipples grazing against his chest, and force up the pace of your hips. Jin is moving incoherently, begging into your neck, and you want to give him exactly what he’s asking for. When you clench around him again, it’s with your orgasm. It’s all it takes to push him over the edge as well, but you barely feel his hips stutter into you, completely taken over by your own pleasure.

It takes you a little while to come back down from your high, and when you do, you meet his eyes. They’re soft and gentle, and, more than anything that’s happened until then, they make you melt.

“Hey,” he whispers, “you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, more than okay, in fact. You?”

“More than okay, too,” he says as a lazy smile spreads across his features.

“Good. That’s good.”

Pillow talk is not your forte.

“Hey,” Jin says, coming to rest his forehead against your shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You chuckle.

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

“That’s good,” Jin says, but his voice sounds choked up, raspy, and you know he’s probably blushing. So you don’t add anything, just run your fingers over his scalp, the nape of his neck, down his back. Let him know you’re here, that you’ve got him, that you’re not going anywhere.

“Are you— are you staying the night?” he asks.

“Sure, unless you’re kicking me out.”

His arms tighten around you possessively.

“I would never.”

It takes a little longer before Jin manages to get the two of you off the couch to go get cleaned up, and then into bed, but of that night, there is not a second that you would call unnecessary or superfluous. Not one.

Every single one of them, every moment you spend with Jin on that first night, are essential, and you could not pick one of them to take back.

March 14th

The bell chimes happily when you walk into the shop, and even though Jin is busy with another customer, his eyes immediately find you. It’s something simple, yet it’s something you love about him. The way he always seems to find you, and the pleasant warmth that fills you without fail when you see him. You’ve been told that it was just the high of the first months of a relationship, not to get too used to it but you hope that, even if it dims, it won’t go away completely.

“Hey, Jin, your ears are turning really red. Why are your ears turning red?”

You laugh while your boyfriend turns to shoot a furious look at Yoongi. He’s sitting in your spot, in the back of the shop, and he’s looking smug. That comment of his has become a pretty common thing to hear whenever you walk in, or just when Jin and you are speaking. To be completely honest, you’re not too mad about it. Jin is good at acting like you have no effect on him, but the blush betrays him, and it’s been both cute and useful to see what actually gets to him, or bothers him sometimes.

“I’ll kick you out of my shop if you keep that up!” Jin shouts at him. “Don’t think I won’t!”

But Yoongi just chuckles into his mug, clearly not taking him seriously — and he’s probably right for that.

“So, do you know what today is?” Jin asks nonchalantly after he’s turned back to face you, gesturing for Jungkook take over with the other customer.

Your eyes widen in horror.

“Please don’t tell me you want us to celebrate our one month anniversary. I haven’t planned anything for that.”

Jin rolls his eyes.

“I would argue that our one-month anniversary is tomorrow, if we’re being precise, because that’s when we, um, really talked about it.”

He’s not wrong. It had been a pleasant thing, to wake up in his arms the morning after, to the sensation of his lips gently kissing your neck, and an even nicer thing to take your breakfast with him. You couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. It had just been what had absolutely and irrevocably sealed the  deal for you. You knew it hadn’t been a mistake. You wanted to be with him.

“Hmm, but there is still some sort of anniversary to be celebrated tonight then,” you say, leaning over the counter. “I’m sure I could prepare something for that.”

His ears and neck flush, and Yoongi has the delicacy of not pointing it out this time.

“That’s not— That’s not what I’m talking about! Today is the white day.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s when boys are supposed to give chocolates back to the girls they like,” Jin elaborates.

“But I didn’t give you chocolates,” you say.

“No, but you’re still the one who— Yoongi, I swear to God— You know. You’re the one who took the first step.”

Despite his recent outburst, it’s obvious that he feels embarrassed and vulnerable in that moment. You’d kind of gathered that he really regretted not asking you out before Sungho had, but you had never thought that it was actually an issue.

“I’m really happy I did,” you tell him quietly. He’s not fond of PDA, but you still allow your fingers to brush against his. That feels discreet enough.

“I know,” he says, and there’s so much love in his eyes when he looks at you that it’s a real miracle that you don’t melt into a puddle right then and there. “But I still—” He sighs. “You’re really ruining my plans. This was meant to go over smoothly.”

“Sorry,” you apologize with a wide grin while he picks something up from behind the counter.

“There,” he mumbles, handing you the box.

You open it, genuinely curious. You feel the eyes of everyone else in the shop — Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook and, of course, Jin — on you, and you want to tell most of them off, but you suppose that since this is where most of your relationship development happened, they’re kind of part of the story too.

The box is filled with chocolates shaped like roses.

“I know it’s not much,” Jin is quick to say, “but I just wanted to—”

“Jin?” you interrupt him.

“Y-yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

His eyes go wide, and then he sighs, but he can’t force away the smile that’s forcefully making its way on his lips.

“Well, if you absolutely have to—”

But he doesn’t protest when you pull him over the counter to kiss him, hands gently closing over your shoulders. He even brings you back for a second, even briefer kiss, and there’s something fierce in his eyes then. He superbly ignores the cheers that come from your friends in the room.

“I have to warn you, you’re never getting rid of me now,” he says, and it’s light-hearted, but you know there’s a lot of truth behind those words.

“Good,” you simply reply. “I wouldn’t want that for the world.”

He looks like he wants to add something to that, but he chokes on the words, and he falls quiet instead. It’s just as good, really.

There are some things you don’t need words for.

Some things that can be expressed just as easily with a box full of rose-shaped chocolates.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Love Me Tender•

Summary: After waiting, watching, and wanting, Tamaki finally has a way to get to you. He's willing to do use some questionable methods, make deals with shifty friends, whatever it takes. He'll have you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Tamaki Amajiki x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, coercion, sabotage, manipulation, hard dom Tamaki, slight brat reader, mostly sub reader, unprotected sex, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle play (oral, vaginal, anal, gagging), bondage (with tentacles), mild dumbification, degradation, spit play, cum play, wittle bit of bloodplay, creampie, marking, possession kink, collaring. Kinda-sorta dub-con (not really imo but warning just in case)

Word Count: 11,576

A/N: Jesus fucking christ I did it.

Part One: Porcelain Obsession

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

   Tamaki awoke painfully this morning, body aching and covered in dried sweat. It wasn't a feeling to be proud of, but it was a feeling he cherished. 

   Your stolen underwear is clutched in his hand still, like a lifeline. It still smells just a little bit like you… but not enough. He couldn't feel you or taste you or hold you. He had to figure something out, quickly. He had to find a way to make you his. 

   Luckily, Tamaki knows exactly how to make that happen…

***                                         

  You hang up your apron with a deep sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Thank god it's only a half day, you finally have an afternoon off, a day to spend by yourself. 

   You bid your coworkers farewell and head out of the shop. You wander home, earbuds in as you try to drown out the noise of the city. Once you're home, you notice a small box on your doorstep. 

   It's a pretty little gold box with purple ribbon, a tiny note is attached to the top. The scribbled writing reads,

   "I thought this would look pretty on you, I'm sorry about the weird exit last night. I'd like to take you to get some coffee to make up for it, if you'll let me." - Tamaki

   Your heart flutters a bit at the note, you had deduced you were nothing more than a charity case. Him walking you home was just what he felt was fair in exchange for the use of your phone, he didn't really… like you? Did he? 

   His exit was just a little bit strange, he seemed almost panicked. You wanted to ask if everything was ok, but figure it best to stay out of a hero's business. Who knows what door you'd be opening if you started to ask too many questions.

   Beneath his note is a phone number, obviously his. You can't call him right away, it might seem desperate, but you can open the box. 

   When the lid comes off, you gasp quietly at what's hidden inside. On a delicate silver chain sits one lovely little pearl. You stand there, amazed and confused. Wondering why on earth somebody like Suneater would leave such a precious little gift for you. 

***

   You called the number left on the note about an hour after receiving it. As soon as Tamaki picks up the phone your heart leaps into your throat. 

   "I didn't think y-you'd call." He laughs afterwards, but you can hear traces of genuine anxiety underneath. 

   "Well, what kind of an asshole would I be if I didn't call back the hero that saved me from a lonely walk home?" Your face crinkles up at your horrid attempt at flirting. 

   He doesn't seem to mind, though. He gives you a sweet laugh, putting some of your nerves at ease. 

   "So, uh- coffee?" He wonders. 

   "I'd love to, I just got off work, but I imagine you're busy doing hero stuff. We can-"

   "No I'm not busy." He says quickly, his urgency makes you smile. He's almost boyish in his approach, and it's very charming. 

   Somehow, between the two of you suffering your way through the conversation, you set a time for coffee.

***

    Tamaki makes a quick stop before meeting you, visiting a horrid friend of his in an alleyway a hero should never be unless he's kicking someone's ass. 

   His "friend" turns out to be a little more than your average criminal. He's a wicked looking man, with a mess of black hair and an abundance of scarring littering his body. 

   They call him Dabi. 

   "So what's the plan here? Am I just scarin' the poor girl or do I get to have some real fun?" His smile is devilish, and his eyes are telling. 

   It makes Tamaki's skin crawl, he stares daggers at the man leaning against the brick of the alleyway. 

   "If you touch her, I will gut you like a fucking fish." Tamaki says, he's full of rage, but he says it so calmly, so matter of fact. 

   "You can try." Dabi laughs, "You forget how easy it is to cook seafood." 

   Tamaki stands there for a brief second, watching the villain, weighing his options. 

   "I'm not here for banter, can you do the job or not?" His words are clipped, strangely articulate compared to his usual stutter. 

   "Yeah whatever, I got nothin' planned for tonight, and I do love making little girls scream." He tilts his head back against the wall as Tamaki turns to stalk away. 

   "Hey, Suneater." Dabi calls out with a lazy voice. 

   Tamaki freezes and keeps his back to Dabi. He turns his head to the side and waits for him to speak. 

   "Send her my way when you're done with her." If Tamaki had less of the public eye on him, he would have slit Dabi's throat then and there. 

   Instead, he swallows his rage as he tosses a hefty wad of cash over his shoulder. 

   "Don't be late." 

***

   "You always just drink it black? Not even a little bit of sugar?' You ask, astounded by Tamaki's ability to drink the bitter liquid without any sweetener.

   "Sugar is kind of useless for me, I try to eat things that'll help me with m-my quirk." He explains, his deep eyes wander while he talks, like he's watching for something. 

   That must come with being a hero. 

   "Does coffee help your quirk?" You ask, a smile playing at your lips when you see him frown at his drink. 

   "No, but it helps me focus."

   You nod playfully before taking a sip, the cafe he's brought you to is incredibly charming. It's not an overly hip establishment, it's just a sweet little hidden gem. Tucked away into a forgotten street, it gives the impression that it's a well kept secret between two best friends. 

   "Do you feel like people ask too much of you?" You question. It slips out so quickly, running away from you after launching out of your lips. 

   Your hatred for small talk gets the best of you and you jump the gun, as always. You want to hide, but not before you apologise a thousand times for being too straightforward. 

   Tamaki looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes show that he's shocked, but not offended.

   "Sometimes. It can feel like people expect me t-to be the…" He pauses for a moment, mentally grasping for the right word. 

   "It feels like people expect Heroes to be this ultimate, universal band-aid. In a lot of ways, we are, but we're still h-human… I-I'm still human…" His voice slows down by the end of his sentence, like he's realized he might be over sharing. 

   But, you asked him, you wanted to know. You actually care about him? Every bone in his body is screaming at him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and run away. He feels some carnal desire to just keep you. Hide you from every selfish asshole that would take advantage of the starstruck look in your beautiful eyes. 

   He can't, though… not yet. 

   "S-sorry…" He whispers. 

   And then, you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. He feels the contact all the up his arm, into his chest, into his heart. 

   So you do want him too. 

   "Please don't be sorry, I liked listening to you talk." You say quietly. 

   You did love it, you loved it because you've felt so unheard, so unseen. Being able to provide somebody else with a pair of listening ears serves as a kind of relief for those feelings. 

   "Can you tell me more?" You test, hand squeezing his own a little more. 

   He looks almost elated, thrilled to be seen, excited to be heard. Most of all, he's itching to finally have you. 

***

   The date was nothing short of wonderful, filled with cute little fumblings of words, hands brushing but never holding, and sharing bits and pieces of yourselves with each other. 

   You flop onto your bed, reminiscent of a teenager who's just had their first kiss. You didn't kiss him goodnight, you chickened out of that. But you did press your lips against his cheek for a brief moment, which seemed to have quite the effect on him. 

      His breath hitched, his fists balled at his sides, acting like he'd never been touched so tenderly. It made you wonder, is the Hero as lonely as you are? 

   You glance over at your night stand, seeing the pretty little necklace sitting in its box. You're washed with guilt as you realize you forgot to wear it to coffee, knowing he must have wanted you to. You take it out of the box carefully before pulling it around your neck and hooking it into place. It fits like a choker, snug against your skin, but it feels good to have it so close.

   You're ripped from your musing when you hear the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. 

   Inside your house. 

   Your blood chills, hair stands up on the back of your neck and you rise from your bed slowly. You try to talk yourself down, kill the first nerves that consume your chest. It was probably a poorly balanced vase… except, you don't own any vases. It could have been a picture? Nope, not a picture, it was just glass… like a window breaking. 

   There's a gun in your office, but you're in the bedroom. You scan the room for something, anything that could be used for defense. Of course, nothing but a damn notebook. 

   The police, you should call the police. Your heart clenches when you hear the threatening sound of heavy footsteps falling down your hallway. 

   They're heading straight for your bedroom. 

   You lunge at the door, hand landing on the doorknob just as it begins to turn. Desperately, uselessly, you try to lock it. It's too late, though, it's already opening by the time your thumb lands on the lock. 

   You can hear your blood rushing when the door swings towards you, a large black boot planted on the other side to force it open. 

   "Sorry 'bout the window, sweetheart. I tried the front door, but it was locked." The intruder chuckles as he invades your bedroom. 

   You stumble back as you take in his sewn together form, a mess of black leather and scars. Wild, electric blue eyes devour your trembling form as you press yourself back into the wall. 

   "Oh, hon, you're shakin' like you're in danger. I ain't gonna hurt you, I'm gonna do the opposite." He stalks towards you, somehow moving in slow motion but with incredible speed all at the same time. 

   Your phone sits on your night stand, only feet away but all too unreachable. You're caged in by his arms as he towers over you, filling your nose with some horrid, smokey smell. 

   "P-please, you can have anything, j-just don't-" 

   Your words halt when a long, pale finger traces over your collar bone. 

   "Don't what? 'J-just don't' what?" He mocks you, eyes lit with a sadistic amusement. 

   Your heart rattles in your chest as tears prick your eyes, you can't fight him, he's huge. You don't have your gun. You don't have your phone. You're fucked. 

   "Cryin' already? What's the matter, doll?-" The hand traces your collar bone moves up to wrap around your throat, "Not a fan of villains?" 

   Your hands paw at his wrist, you will yourself to sputter something out, any kind of objection to whatever he has planned. You try to whimper out a 'stop', but when your mouth finally forms the word, the voice isn't yours, but it's familiar.

   It's low, clipped and dangerous as it barks out the warning. 

   Suneater. 

   Suddenly, as if he's being yanked to the heavens by the Gods, your assailant is torn away from you. A large, red tentacle captures him by the waist and throws him across the room. You collapse to the ground instantly, curling around your legs as you hear the muffled sounds of a violent fight. 

   You hide in your own little world, trembling and clenching yourself. You take one peak from between your arms, just to see Tamaki place the intruder in a chokehold before barking some profane threat at him. 

   The villain is smiling the whole time, he even winks at you. 

   "If I ever see you near her again, you won't walk away with your life." Tamaki snarls as the stranger breaks away from his hold.  

   "She's not worth the trouble." He laughs, raising one hand before sending brilliant blue flames blasting towards Tamaki. 

   You scream involuntarily, reaching out for the Hero as he jumps away from the flames. Once they're gone, the villain is gone as well. Like some cheap magician disappearing off stage. The room is almost entirely untouched by the burst of fire, at most, the tip of your comforter is singed. 

   The second the fire is gone, Tamaki is walking towards you urgently, pulling you to your feet so he can cradle your face. 

   "Are you ok? Did he touch you? What happened?" His inky eyes search your face frantically. 

   You don't answer, you just stutter, clinging to his hands until you can finally squeak out, "I'm ok." 

   His shoulders drop as he sighs, hands loosening their grip. His eyes flicker down to the necklace, his gaze softens when he sees how pretty it looks on you. 

   "Y-you… Do you like it?" He asks timidly, glancing up at you. 

    You breathe for a moment, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in attention. 

   "I love it." You say quietly, still trembling. 

   He just saved you, really saved you from a real villain who was planning God knows what, and he's worried about your necklace? 

   "It's so pr-pretty on you…" He reaches down to touch it, leaving one hand on your cheek. 

   You take the moment to breathe, remind yourself that you're safe, that you're with a hero now. You observe Tamaki's almost casual appearance, a dry fit shirt and simple tactical pants. It almost helps you relax, seeing him like so… at ease? 

   His fingers play with the pearl, deep eyes transfixed. Something nearly uncontrollable swells within his chest. It burns and aches and eats at him. You're so close, you're so warm, so soft. He could have you, he could just take you. 

   "Tamaki?" You prod gently, your own chest stirs, and something pulls you towards him.

   His eyes snap up to yours, and something shifts in the air. It feels sticky, heavy, too hard to breathe. His gorgeous form towers over you, pressing you back up against the wall as his eyes devour your trembling body. 

   "Thank you f-for saving me." You whisper.

   He nods earnestly, his breathing is shaking, his hands feel like they're holding back. 

   "Anything. Anything for you." 

   That line, that makes you ache.

   How long have you felt so lukewarm, so overlooked and forgotten? Too long, far too long. Now, with Tamaki looking down at you like you're priceless, you feel fiery, you feel seen and remembered. 

   Your hands grasp at his wrists, your eyes flick down to his parted lips. You're not sure what you want to happen next, but you want him as close as you can get him.

   "If you let me start, I will not stop." His voice drops and it makes your breath catch. 

   He feels it too, then. 

   Is it the high of what you've just gone through? Is it just your body trauma bonding with the man that just saved you? Or do you really, really want him so bad it hurts? 

   His tone is warning and his eyes are frantic. 

   "Please." Is the only thing that falls from your quivering lips. 

   Consequences be damned, motives especially be damned. You need him, and he needs you. That's enough explanation for tonight. 

   He consumes you much like the villains flames, his lips are on yours almost too fast, his hands are greedy as they hold your face to his. 

   While you feel similar to a lovesick girl getting kissed for the first time, Tamaki feels like a prisoner finally set free. He feels like a lion that was held in a cage and taunted with a piece of meat. He feels like the door has finally been opened, and he can finally sink his teeth in. 

   "I wanna feel you." He brings his mouth away from yours with much reluctance, leaving his forehead pressed against yours. 

   You flounder for a moment, with your mouth feeling dry and your limbs feeling heavy. 

   "Where?" You choke out, searching his face for any tell. 

   "God, everywhere." It's a broken request, said like a secret. 

   "Take it. Whatever you want." Your boldness surprises you both. 

   You're hooked on the exhilaration, you're craving more, you want to feel something. Even after just a walk home and a coffee date, you want to feel it with Tamaki. 

   "Don't give me that…" He shivers as he presses his body against yours, making it very evident how much of an affect you're having on him. 

   "I'll ruin you." He whimpers when you grind back against him, your hands tug at his shirt and you look up at him with wide eyes. 

   "Who said I don't want that?" 

   You both stand there frozen, waiting for the other to move, to prove that this isn't a dream. 

   "Fuck." 

   His hands descend from cradling your face so they can wrap around your neck with the most gentle grip. 

   He watches you intently, feels your breath quicken, cherishing the way you bite your lip when his fingers tighten slightly. 

   Internally, Tamaki is fighting the most challenging battle he's ever had to face. He's had to take on a wide variety of formidable enemies, but right now, nothing seems more formidable than having to hold himself back when he finally has you in his arms. 

   He wants to take and take and take, for as long as you'll let him… maybe even longer. 

   She's mine now.

   Something shifts in his gaze just then, making him look almost primal. It makes your chest feel frozen, makes it difficult to breathe or focus. 

   His hands shift around your neck, they feel almost… slippery? Their texture is different, their movement is more fluid. Then, you feel it, the distinct sensation of a suction cup latching against your skin. 

   Tentacles. He's made each of his fingers a tentacle.

   Your eyes stay locked on his, both of you in a heated trance as you watch how the other responds. 

   One slick tendril crawls up to latch onto your chin, he turns your head upwards and to the side with a thoughtful look. It's almost like he's sizing you up, appraising you. 

   After a thick moment of silence, he finally speaks. 

   "I'm going to make you cry." It's a depraved promise, beautifully whispered with no shame. 

   You stand there, held by him, captured by him. You're helplessly entranced, all rational thought is long gone as you reel over the implications of his statement. All you can know for sure, is you want more. 

    Despite every red flag, regardless of any common sense, you want more. 

   "I dare you." You say back to him, the desperation to feel anything other than mundane spurs you onward.

   He receives the words like it's a smack to the face, some shock evident in his eyes. He didn't take you for a brat, but he can certainly roll with it. 

   "You're gonna make this fun for me, aren't you?" He questions, his tentacles grip you tighter now, reminding you who has the high ground. 

   Mine. 

   The air shifts, something heavier takes over the mood, it settles in your ribs and wraps around your heart. 

   He guides you away from the wall, shepherding you around until your back is towards your bed. He starts walking you backwards until your knees buckle once they hit the mattress. 

   You sit there, gazing up at him, held still by his quirk, transfixed by the power he exudes as he towers over you. 

   "Has anyone ever had you before?" He asks, finally returning his hand to normal so he can cradle your cheek. 

   The question has your stomach burning with nerves. 

   No, nobody ever has. 

   You shake your head, looking down, cheeks burning as you try to hide your embarrassment. 

   His reaction shocks you immensely, his whole body shutters and he drops to his knees. His hands settle on your waist as he moves between your legs. 

   "Th-this is… all mine then?" He asks, he rubs his thumbs over the bottoms of your ribs affectionately. 

   His eyes are wide and reverent as he waits for your answer, looking like you're some anointed goddess. His eyes skate over every feature he can, and he cherishes each one. 

   Your confession nearly knocks the wind out of him, especially with how sweet you look, all blushing and embarrassed. It makes his need to rip you apart even stronger. 

   "Please...let me give you everything…" His hands tighten on you and you feel them shaking.

   You study him for a second, at a complete loss for words, he seems so… devoted. It pulls on your heart, clouds your mind and lights your body up. How could you possibly say no to him? How on earth could you turn someone away when they’re looking at you like you’re placed on an altar ready to be worshiped. 

   Carefully, like you’re trying not to frighten a beast, you reach out and touch his face. He moves into your touch like a lonely cat, desperate for affection and recognition. 

   “Please…” You breathe. 

   And that’s all it takes. 

   His breath leaves his lungs in a harsh rush as he moves forward like a leopard, lean and precise as he forces you onto your back. 

   Your blood rushes so quickly you swear you can hear it, your mouth goes dry as he stares you down. He’s suddenly less reverent, now he’s ravenous. A dangerous, carnivorous look dances in his dark eyes. His judgement is clouded just like yours, only it fuels him, while your state is much more terrified. Any spunk you had in you is thrown out the window as he leers over you.

   You shrink into the mattress as he hovers above you on all fours, heavy eyelids and parted lips giving him a nearly drugged look. 

   “When you say everything-” He whispers, moving so he can settle on his knees between your open legs, “Do you mean this too?” He drops his hips as he questions you, pressing something very hard into your thigh, something very intimidating. 

   He watches your eyes go wide, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you gasp after he rolls his hips. His arms cage you, a strong hand placed on either side of your head, the position makes you feel so pathetic, so helpless, but it gives you an incredible rush. 

   “Don’t look so scared, it won’t hurt.” He dips down to press his hot, open mouth against your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse. A dark chuckle leaves his chest, “Not much, at least.” 

   Then he’s definitely less reverent, he’s no longer worshipful, he’s a wicked, unleashed best. His hands are selfish as they remove your clothes, his mouth is voracious against your skin. He has you panting and twitching in seconds, musing at you when your reactions are particularly strong. 

   It’s when he snakes down your body, wetting your skin with his tongue, settling between your breasts so he can suck harshly at the heated skin, that you finally feel something break within you. You arch into his touch, fisting your hands in his raven hair, whimpering so beautifully for him as he works you up. 

   He knows what he’s doing, he’s skilled, well equipped for pulling you apart. He’s already descended into some debauched state of being, and he’s pulling you down with him. 

   “Nobody’s ever tasted this sweet little cunt before, have they?” He asks against your skin, latching his mouth back to the spot he’s focused on marking, but looking up at you with inquiring eyes. 

   You try to swallow, shake your head, do something, but all you can do is lay there naked and gasping.

   He laughs again, a wicked thing that leaves his chest like a wisp of wind. He slides a hand up your body, he flicks over your nipple with his thumb on the way up, pulling another whimper out of you. 

   His hand latches onto your jaw, then he shakes your head for you, doing what he knows you can’t. 

   “Oh baby…” He sighs, “You saved it for me?” He teases, hips grinding against you, the cloth of his pants creates a strange kind of friction against your clit, not unpleasant, but not pleasurable. Where the hell did the sweet, stuttering hero go? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks deviant… almost villainous.

   “Tama- please.” You shiver, not sure what you’re asking for, but certain that you need more. 

   “Good girl, talk to me.” His hand slinks down your throat before he rises to his knees. 

   Your eyes lock on the tightness of his pants, trying not to panic at the sheer size of the imprint he’s making on them. 

   His shirt is pulled over his head, messing his hair in the most handsome way, and the breath is ripped from your lungs. 

   He’s stunning, broad and strong looking. He’s all porcelain skin over well trained muscle. Built perfectly for the work he does. Built perfectly for ripping apart poor little girls like you. 

   “I liked the look you got when I had my tentacles on you.” He sighs, letting a hand fall to your bare stomach so he can trace lazy circles against you. 

   “Did you like that? Do you want me to use my tentacles to play with you?” He questions. 

   His voice is low, it’s rich and warm and dripping with seduction. Nothing like the tentative, wobbly tone he usually has. It rips the ground out from underneath you, leaves you panting and blinking like a brain dead fool as you gawk up at his prowling form. 

   “Just a yes or no, if you can manage it.” He smiles sweetly up at you, splaying his hand across your quaking abdomen. 

   You breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself, trying to catch up with what he’s said. 

   “Y-yes.” You whisper, barely audible, hardly heard over your labored breathing. 

   His other hand mirrors the one he has on you, sliding around to hold you by the waist, a gentle cage meant to establish dominance. 

   “Yes… what?” He prompts, pressing his thumbs down. 

   You falter then, your tongue feels heavy, your mind slows and you’re suddenly void of all vocabulary. Were you really really about to let one of the most well known pros wreck your body with his quirk? Were you actually laid out for him like this? You know so little of him, your only information gathered from small talk, but something about that had you buzzing. 

   You could be whoever you want to be, you don’t have to be the floundering virgin. You don’t have to be so damn shell shocked. 

   “Yes, D-daddy.” You test, hoping to God or whoever is listening that you got the right name. 

   By the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his grip tightens, the way his body tenses, you sure as hell did. 

   “That’s it.” He sighs, “-and what about you?” He wonders, his hold going gentle again. 

   You? What about you? 

   Tamaki watches you carefully, barely containing the raging storm inside him, barely holding back the carnal urge to turn every limb to a pretty purple tentacle and stuff you until you’re crying for mercy. 

   Not yet, don’t fuck this up. 

   “Princess? Darling?” He asks, lowering himself back down to kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his thick lashes. 

   “Whatever you want.” You answer. Your sweet, sacred submission makes him close his eyes and breathe in. 

   Hold it. Not. Yet.

   “You’re like an angel.” He breathes, making you shiver under the weight of the high praise. 

   He notices your reaction immediately, smiling to himself. 

   “So that’s it.” He presses a long kiss just under your belly button, bringing attention to how naked you are, and how naked he is not. 

   Your thighs squeeze together and your arms come up to cover your chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to keep it all out of view. 

   His hands are on your wrist and his body is crouched over yours again before you can blink. He pins your hands beside your head, looking down at you with some wild, unbridled kind of look in his eyes. 

   “You do not get to hide from me.” His shoulders flex as he pushes your wrists down into the mattress, earning a whine from you as the pressure starts to ache. 

   “You’re mine. That means I get all of you.” He bites the words off, but keeps his voice quiet. 

   You should be scared, crying even, but the only thing you feel is exhilaration, the ache between your legs and the fluttering of your heart as he overpowers you with just the look in his eyes and a few harsh words. 

   “Do you understand me?” He eases up on your wrists slightly, looking more stern, less unhinged. 

   “I-I do, I’m sorry.” You whimper out. 

   He considers you for a brief second, eyes growing softer as he watches the way your pretty lip trembles. 

   “It’s ok.” He releases your wrists and speaks gently, “You’re ok.” 

   The reassurances makes you dizzy, especially in contrast with how rough he just was. 

   "Hold still for me, angel." Then he’s back to mouthing at your skin.

   His teeth meet your collarbone and your hands reach for his messy hair. 

   “There?” He asks against you, a smile in his voice as he lets his teeth gather your skin again. The spot he finds makes you dizzy, you feel the heat spread across your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 

   Tamaki is still stuck in his own chains, fighting against them as he focuses on the way you twitch for him, the way your body rolls when he bites harder. 

   So she likes it.

   Your body heats up, it's all so overwhelming. It's so different from anything you've ever felt, and you can't believe it's with him. 

    Then his kisses get more sloppy, his teeth are sharper against you. He leaves you shining with his spit, painted in blooming purple and red bruises as he begins his journey down your body. 

   "Da-addy." You sniffle when he bites into the underside of your breast. 

   It doesn't feel loving, it doesn't feel passionate, it just feels rough. 

   "Hush." He mumbles against you, "If you can't take this I might as well stop now." He looks up at you, challenging you. 

   "I can t-take it, I can." You breathe, nodding, looking at him with begging eyes, "Please, don't stop." 

   He honest to god growls against you. You couldn't possibly know what you do to him, how sweet your willingness sounds, how beautiful you look laid out for him. He knows he should take his time, and he resents that fact. He almost resents you for being so sweet and needy. With all the things he wants to do to you, he almost, almost, wishes you had at least some experience. This makes you his completely, though, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

   His hot mouth moves lower and lower until he's tonguing at your hip bone, pulling the skin into his mouth so he can work his teeth against it. He will mark you wherever he can, as long as you'll let him. 

   Your hips roll up against him, making him smirk at how needy you're acting. 

   "Ask for it." He whispers, hungry hands slide up the outsides of your thighs, "Ask for what you want." 

   His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, sending the breath from your lungs as he glares up at you. He lets his wet tongue loll out to give a teasing flick against the crux of your thigh. 

   You take a deep breath in and cling to the sheets for dear life, "Please, use your mouth on me." 

   He smiles so sweetly then, looking mildly amused. 

   "Here?" He goes back to that same spot, sucking and teasing, looking all too pleased with himself. 

   "Be specific, angel, tell me where you need me." 

   Tamaki knows for a fact that he didn't have to spend his time making you ask for things, he knows what you want, he knows how to give them to you. He could take whatever he needs, probably without much a fight from you, but what fun would that be? He would miss the pretty blush creeping across your skin, and the sweet little tears in your big eyes. No, he wouldn't be missing this, not for the world. 

    "I wanna feel your tongue, please, use your mouth on m-my cunt." You shiver, timid and uncertain about your phrasing. 

   It seems to do the trick though, because Tamaki's eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. 

   He answers with a low moan before grabbing you by the insides of your thighs so he can spread you open. Once the air of the room hits you, you're made painfully aware of just how soaked you are. 

   It makes Tamaki look like a wild man, all blown out pupils blushing cheeks. 

   Almost in slow motion, he presses his tongue into the spot right above your clit, making you whine and buck against his mouth. 

   "Needy little thing." He says, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze, "But I suppose I have teased enough." 

   Then he's on you, and the second his tongue meets your weak spot you know you're ruined. You know that not one person will ever hold a candle to Tamaki Amajiki. 

   He pulls away for only a second, just to whisper praises up to you, "Your cunt tastes like everything I've ever needed." 

   You huff at him in disbelief, not knowing what to say or do, heart soaring because of his confession.

   Then he dives back in, and he gets sloppy with it, setting a pace that feels so good it aches. The heat spreads through every limb, and settles somewhere deep in your chest. Everything tingles and burns, and breathing seems nearly impossible. 

   Internally, Tamaki is raging. He’s so close to losing it, he feels himself slipping, your taste spreads across his tongue is the culmination of months of watching and waiting and wanting. He wants to drown in you, he wants to rip you to shreds. No more watching you through windows, no more fucking his fist while he wishes with everything he has that it was your precious little pussy. He has you now, spread open and vulnerable. He knows he could shove your face into the pillows and let loose on you, stuff every hole with an invasive tentacle, the thought makes him even more feral, it makes him work even harder as he eats you. 

   Every roll of his tongue against your clit makes you throb and buck, which makes him growl and push you down against the mattress. He's loud and messy, slurping and moaning, letting it drip down his chin and his throat, never once letting up. 

   Your head is thrown back against the pillows, eyes drilled shut. You know damn well if you saw him, you wouldn't last another second. He builds you up until your thighs are trembling and you're a whiny little mess. 

   Perfect. 

   Suddenly, the texture of his tongue changes drastically. It's much more slippery, and much thicker. Your head shoots up, and you nearly sob at what you see. Tamaki, with his eyes wild and his jaw dropped, is letting a wicked looking tentacle hang from his mouth. 

   His quirk. 

   He smirks up at you as the tip of it writhes against your clit, flicking and circling as he watches the tears start to fall from your face. You can't possibly keep up, you didn't know anything could ever feel this good. 

   You watch the suction cups ripple as he moves the muscle against you, then he does the unthinkable. He latches one of them onto your clit. Your eyes cross and you bring a fist to your mouth so you can bite on it and muffle your screams. 

   He hates that. 

   With another rumbling growl, he lets his hands turn to tentacles as well. You watch helplessly as he snakes them up your arms, ripping your hand away from your mouth so he can pin both limbs to the bed. The tentacles are strong, surprisingly warm, and so damn slippery. 

   It's hard to tell if you're close to the edge, it's felt that way the whole time, everything feels so hot and tight and good. 

   He smiles as you cry out and thrash against the bed, full of admiration for the usefulness of his own quirk.

   “Too much! D-daddy, it’s too much.” You sniffle out as you feel a stinging feeling in your cunt, it’s not necessarily an unpleasant sting, but it’s too much.

   He ignores your objection, choosing to simply suck harder at your overstimulated sweet spot. He revels in your pitifully low threshold, planning to do so much worse to your poor, inexperienced body. 

   The ache in your cunt continues to push the tears from your eyes, and eventually, drool from your mouth. The suction cup works dutifully against your clit, making you feel so overwhelmed you don't know if you can cum. 

   Then you feel the prodding at your entrance. 

   Then you really scream. 

   Holding that one little suction cup to your clit, he snakes the tip of his tentacle into your dribbling hole. He furrows his dark brows and moans against you when he feels how tight you are, desperate to feel the velvety walls around his cock.

   "Holy fucking shit." You gasp. 

   He watches the dramatic rise and fall of your quaking chest, your baffled eyes trying to keep track of everything happening to your body, and he swears he falls even more in love. 

   You're so willing, so compliant, so at his mercy. 

   He crooks the tip of the tentacle towards himself just a bit, and it's like you've been struck by lightning. You cum hard, harder than you ever have. You're a mess of twitching limbs, shivering as your cunt clenches so hard your feel it in your fucking chest. You sob into the air, broken and tearful as he works you through it. 

   You feel the hold on your arms tighten as your body arches away from the mattress. As you feel every inch of you ignite, you know that you're ruined for everyone else. 

   As soon as you lower yourself so you're flat to the mattress, the tentacles around your arms slip away and turn back into his hands. 

   The one between your legs still plays with you a little bit, prodding at your clit, lapping up your mess. Tamaki laughs as you jump and twitch, whimpering and gasping as he milks your body for every after shock you can give him. 

   You watch him pull the tentacle back into his mouth, flicking it over his lips to gather your release before disappearing into his mouth. You watch his eyes flutter shut, you watch him shiver and you hear the sweetest little moan in the back of his throat. 

   “You’re pretty when you cry.” He mumbles, looking up at you with the most tender look in his eyes. It’s a harsh contrast with all the cum dripping down his chin. 

   “You move a lot, too. It’s fun.” He states, almost like some kind of twisted review, “I don’t mind holding you down like that.” 

   The drop in the tone of his voice makes a chill creep up your spine. 

   “In fact…” He lifts himself up so he can start to crawl up your body, “I really, really enjoyed it.”

   You gasp for words, wind stolen from your lungs as he presses his messy mouth against your sternum. 

   “Something tells me you did too.” He whispers. 

   Your voice is finally found, somewhere deep in your chest, hidden and nearly forgotten, “What makes you say that?” You ask timidly. 

   He pulls his head up to look down at you with a confident smirk, “The mess you made.” 

   To prove his point, he swipes two fingers through your folds, gathering your creamy release before holding it up to the light. He looks so damn proud, like he’s showing off. 

   “Messy girl.” He smiles, as you watch him bring his coated fingers to his lips, sucking the sin off with a greedy pop from his lips. 

   “Oh, how selfish of me.” He sighs before grabbing you by the chin, “I should share.” 

   He pulls your mouth open then slowly leans over you so he can push the mess back through his lips. You oblige like a robot, stunned by the debauchery, letting him guide you through this act. He lets it fall from his lips slowly, creating a long string from his mouth to yours. The second it hits your tongue, something clicks for you. Something dark and smokey settles in your gut, something all consuming and blinding. It rids you of boundaries and reservations, it fills you with nothing but the man in front of you. 

   He watches you with a pointed gaze, shutting your jaw for you so you can swallow what he gave you. 

   “What do you say?” He asks. 

   You feel the burn in your chest, the embers in your skin, “More, please.” 

   “Fucking hell," The words tumble out as a breath mostly, "You want more?" He questions, grabbing you by the wrist so he can place your palm just above the waist of his pants. 

   You nod up at him, vision blurred by the heat of his skin against your palm. 

   "Then take it." He leans down to say it, biting off the words. 

   A challenge. 

   You can't possibly disappoint him, you can't possibly leave him wanting. Take it? How are you supposed to take it? 

   In a wild moment of confidence, mostly your body moving without the permission of your mind, you wrap your legs around his lean hips so you can flip him onto his back. 

   Your eyes lock the second you feel him pressing against you, hard and thick, and terribly intimidating in length. 

   He watches you for a moment, then hastily grabs you by the back of the neck so he can pull you down for another kiss. It's hot and needy, full of wicked want and unabashed selfishness. It tickles your ribs, creeps up your neck, and secures itself greedily around all of your common sense. 

   Tamaki had no intentions of letting you take anything, it's a game to him. He'll let you have your moment, let you feel like you have the reigns, but he'll take it right back. His has you under control, he vows that he always will.

   Your chest flutters with a clawing, aching feeling. 

   More more more. 

   "Fuck me." It's a prayer, whimpered against his delicate lips, "Please, fuck me." You dig your hands into his hair, cherishing the sweet noises they leave him as you beg. 

   Under control.

   "Tell me you need it." He sighs, answering your prayer by sending his hands down to work urgently at his belt. 

   "Tell me you need me." 

   You bring your face back from his just enough to look into his dark eyes, and you see tears welling in them. 

   He needs to feel needed.

   "Please, I need it, I need you, Suneater." 

   Everything freezes for a brief second, the air thickens and his eyes darken as you wait with a held breath for his next move. 

   Then, everything is flying around you. You feel the bite of fingertips against your waist, your stomach hits the mattress, possibly the sound of his pants being taken off. Your senses are dulled by the raging swirl of emotions beating inside you as your hips are lifted up, and a hand shoves your face into the pillow. 

   "Who's your hero?" His voice is rough, his hand gathers your hair and cranks your head to the side, "Who is your fucking hero?" He's barking the words out now, harsh and demanding. 

   And holy hell does it get you going. 

   "You are! You're my hero, Suneater." You cry out, craning your neck to look at him. 

   You expected furrowed brows, a straight mouth and furious eyes. What you're met with is nothing of the sort. A soft pink blush across his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears, tears wetting his cheek, and a quivering lip. 

   With your eyes on him, he makes a show of sliding his hand down his front so he can grab at his length. He lets it fall against your ass, heavy and painfully hard. 

   "Don't forget that." He says simply, sliding his thick head down through your slicked lips. 

   The contact makes you both shudder deep in your souls. 

   "Daddy, please." Your voice is pitiful as you fist the sheets and press back against him. 

   "So slutty." He muses, releasing your hair so he can run his nails down your back, "Poor thing, never been fucked, needs it so bad, doesn't she?" 

   You nod fervently and fuss as he presses his head against your tight hole. You tense and shiver, not at all prepared for what's to come. 

   "I need it, I need you, please please please." You have one thought now, no reservations, you need him. 

   "I'm gonna ruin this little cunt." He says, a warning tone in his voice. 

   The hand that was tracing your spine suddenly feels very cold and wet. 

   His damn quirk. 

   He takes his time, letting the thick tentacle slither around your waist. It wraps around you twice, teasing you with the pops of the suction cups, leaving pretty purple circles all over your abdomen. 

   He lifts you easily, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. 

   "Ruin it, please, it's yours, I'm yours." You sniffle, looking down at your trapped position. 

   With a low, menacing growl, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and his cock into your heat. 

   Tamaki holds his breath, willing himself not to fill you up right this second. You're too damn tight, so warm and velvety. You're so perfect, and so completely his. 

   You sob into the air, hands reaching out to hold the headboard as you feel like you're being ripped apart. 

   "Oh don't scream, Angel, people might think something's wrong." His voice is shaking now, and the hold on your waist tightens. 

   You focus on relaxing, letting your walls lose their tension, but it's all fruitless. He's too big, he fills you too well, and all you can do is take it. 

   "Here, let me give that mouth something to do." 

   His other hand comes around to hold your throat, turning each finger into a tentacle again. It leaves you reeling and gasping as he presses further into you, wrapping what would be his middle finger around your throat. He wraps it around twice, like he did with your waist. The appendage comes up to rest its tip on your bottom lip. 

   The sensation makes you dizzy, especially when it finally snakes into your panting mouth. It doesn't really taste like anything, it just feels wet and slick, the texture of the suction cups is the strangest thing about it. He rocks his hips so gently, squeezing you tighter everywhere he's holding you. 

   You don't feel like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel like a moth caught in a spider's web. All tangled up, not willing to fight to escape, not even wanting to. 

   "You're so damn tight." He stutters out, pressing his hips flush against your own. 

   You cry out and gag against the tentacle stuffing your mouth, digging your nails into the headboard as he chuckles behind you. 

   "You're such a pretty little mess for me. Your cunt's already dripping." 

   You don't doubt it, it has to be with how badly your core aches around him as he stretches you. 

   Your thighs start to tremble as you wait for him to move, sniffling as the tears fall from your eyes and the drool spills from your lips. 

   A pretty little mess indeed. 

   Slowly, he drags his hips back with a hiss before pushing back in. He takes his time with it, building an agonizing pace that offers you no release. There's only the pressure, only your clit screaming for attention, only the maddening tease of his head against your sweet spot with every torturous push in. 

   "Fuck angel, I gotta break this pussy in, don't I?" His words pull another pitiful moan from you, nodding and whining is all you're capable of. 

   His picks up speed just enough to make you tense even more, still painful, still mind numbing. 

   "You look so fucking pretty on the end of my cock." 

   His words pour over you like hot wax, heating you up, making you drip. The heat seeps deep into your skin, making you squirm and clench. 

   He speeds his thrusting up slightly, then more, and more, and more, until you’re shrieking and choking against the tentacle stuffing your mouth. Your hands fly up to claw at it, wanting to tell him how it feels, wanting to thank him for the way he’s fucking you. 

   It’s still painful, each thrust splits you open with a sting, but it’s so damn good. The sharp stretching is absolutely spectacular, and it sends your brain into somewhere dark and smokey, it leaves you with a wide open feeling in your chest. It leaves you wanting more. 

   “What’s the matter, sweet thing?” He taunts, “Tell me about it, then, how’s Daddy make you feel?” He turns each tentacle back into a finger slowly, pulling out of your mouth, leaving you a gasping mess. 

   Through spit and tears, you praise him, words spewing out between moans as your body jolts from each punishing snap of his hips. 

   “So fucking good! You make me feel so good!” You cry, clinging to his forearm as he brings you closer to his chest. 

   The tentacle around your waist starts to slither down your stomach, “This isn’t even half of what I’m capable of doing to you,” The tip of it gives the hood of your clit a teasing flick, “-and you’re already such a slut for me.” His chuckle is dark and full as the tip of his skilled tentacle zeros in on your sweet spot, rubbing and wriggling against it until you’re screaming. 

   “Say it. Say you’re my little slut.” His words are a harsh demand against your ear, leaving no room for disobedience. 

   “I- f-fuck- I can’t! I ca-an’t!” You sob, not able to catch your breath between thrusts. 

   Tamaki eats that right up, swelling with pride as he fucks you speechless, delirious with the fact that he finally has your cunt gripping his cock. 

   Before he can bark another order at you, you finally pull the words out of your closing throat, "I'm your slut," You gasp as drool rolls down your chin, "I'm your little slut." 

   He throws his head back and throws everything he has into every thrust, his moans are obscene, high pitched and broken as he feels how hard you squeeze him when he speeds up the tip of his tentacle against your clit. 

   "Give it to me, I feel that greedy cunt tryin' to milk me, give me that fuckin cum." He huffs against your ear. Your entire body seizes up, shaking violently as ribbons of pleasure shoot through you. You pulse around Tamaki almost violently, earning some very rough sounding moans from him as he works you through it. 

   Your orgasm lasts for what feels like an eternity, you shiver with every throb of your walls. It possesses that same almost painful pleasure, and it's everything you've ever wanted. At some point, the tentacle around your waist turns to a hand, still absentmindedly rubbing you as you come down. 

   He lets your torso fall forward, leaving you bent over and exposed for him. His hands smooth over your ass, and you realize he's still so fucking hard. 

   "Can you take more, angel?"

   You nod against the tear soaked pillow you've pressed your face into, not sure that you even can, but willing to try. 

   "Good," He bends down to press kisses into your spine as he pulls out, "'Cause you're going to." 

   He pulls out, almost full of regret, wanting to live the rest of his life buried inside you.

   Now he can have some fun, mind cleared slightly by finally feeling you come undone around him. He's still hazy, still slightly frenzied, but less ravenous, less of a starved man waiting for his meal, more of a well fed man waiting for desert. 

   His hands hold your waist gently so he can guide you onto your back. You oblige, more than willing to let him have his way. 

   You finally get a good look at him, and you're astounded by just how pretty his dick looks. All pale and pink, swollen and shiny, it makes you dizzy with admiration. 

   "You're terribly beautiful." He whispers, cradling your waist so he can worship your stomach with soft kisses, "I don't believe you're even real." 

   Sweetness oozes through your tingling limbs, pouring over you like warm honey. His tender mouth brings you back down, soothes you into a state of catharsis. Your body settles, but your heart picks back up when his lips are on your hips. 

   Your eyes meet his, and you share the sentiment that he just might not be real. He pears up at you through a mess of indigo hair, eyes full of what you can only describe as devotion. 

   He explores your body with his hands, dipping his thumbs into every crook he can, palming handfuls of your plush thighs. He seems to have a soft spot for your hips though, pulling at your love handles, letting his breath speed up each time until he's panting against you. 

   With every pull of his hands, you bend for him, push into him, work with him. You both find a rhythm, falling into an easy dance of grabbing and needing. 

   "I want to keep you." He breathes, placing a hand on either side of your waist so he can lift himself over you, "I want to have you." 

   He gathers your legs while he speaks, hooking his hands under your knees so he can fold you up. 

   "You have me." You whisper, reaching out to lay your fingers on the sides of his ribs. 

   You watch his skin twitch under your touch, you watch his eyebrows sag into an almost heartbroken look. 

   He looks down between your bodies, quivering when he sees his heavy cock resting against your stomach. He feels so incredibly proud of you in that moment, for taking him so well, and asking for more. 

   She's mine. She said I have her. 

   The concept brings another wave of primal desire crashing down on his self control. 

   His fingers dig into your skin, biting at the flesh, spreading you open for him as he puts his weight on your legs. 

   You clench in anticipation, teased by the pressure of his hot length resting against you. 

   "I can take it." You say quietly, sliding your hands up his lean body so you can lace them into his inky hair. 

   He melts into your touch, stunned by your gorgeous submission. 

   "Fuck, angel." His words are shattered as they fall from his lips. 

   You reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his weeping tip. He trembles and hiccups as you push him down so he's lined up with where you need him. 

   "Please, I want all of it." m. 

   “Careful.” He pants, looking down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

   It doesn’t create hesitation in you though, only curiosity. 

   “We’re being careful now?” You tease, sliding him up and down your slit. 

   “You little devil.” He hisses, grabbing your wrist harshly, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” 

   You freeze and blink up at him, once again shocked by his quick change in temperament. 

   “You wanna act like a tease now?” He questions, bringing your hand up so he can press it into the mattress with his. 

   “Did you find yourself a cute little attitude?” His voice drips with venom, it bites at your insides and melts your skin. 

   “That’s ok, angel.” He lets your hand go so he can press on the backs of your thighs again, successfully folding you completely in half, “I’ll fuck it out of you.” 

   Before you can breathe, blink, or respond, he’s splitting you open with a brutal pace. He laughs deep in his chest when you cry out, he mocks you when your hands fly to his abs in an attempt to slow his assault. A wicked smile spreads across his pretty face when tears stain your flushed cheeks once again. 

   “Cryin’ again so soon? Is it too much, baby? You need Daddy to slow down?” He’s testing you, only thrusting harder as he taunts you for your sobbing and moaning. 

   “No!” You gasp between tears, “Don’t stop, please, fuck me like that.” 

   “That’s my girl.” 

   His thrusts are ruthless, sharp, unforgiving. He rocks your body and the bed with each plunge in, headboard crashing against the wall. Each drive into you is enchanting, it teaches you something new, opens new doors, shows you a new, brilliant world of depravity. The way the pleasure shoots all the way up your spine with every drag of his cock, it’s something you want to feel until you die, you’d even be happy if this is the way you die. 

   You watch him disappear inside of you over and over, pulling out just as quick, covered in slick and sin. Tamaki is in his own feral world, watching your lovely face crumble and pout as he fills you. His hands are angry against the back of your thighs, nails digging in hard enough to bring little pearls of scarlet to the surface. 

   When you start to whine from the sting, he flashes you a lazy smile before stuffing his fingers into your mouth. He presses the blood covered fingertips into your tongue just enough to make drool spill from the sides of your mouth. 

   “Hush, you’ll learn to love it.”

   His smile turns wolfish when he watches your eyes roll back. It’s all so black-hearted, it’s everything you’ve kept yourself from, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

   You both throb and cry then, your bodies smack as they meet, obscene and wet as you chase your undoing. Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he curses himself for it. He doesn’t want to stop, especially when you wince so sweetly when his thrusts are a little too deep. He wants to watch you suck his fingers forever, crying against his palm as he turns you into his perfect little slut. 

   “You’re gonna give me one more, aren’t you, angel? You owe me that, I saved your life after all.” He slides his fingers from your mouth, dragging your spit down your chin before grabbing you by the throat, “Answer if you can, I know it must be hard to speak when you’re getting fucked this good.” 

   His words drown you in lust, your hands claw at his back, painting angry red lines down the pretty porcelain canvas, “Take it! Fuck- Take it, Suneater, take it all.” 

   It’s not a demand, it’s a plea, it’s a craving formed deep within your freshly corrupted heart. 

   Your begging pulls desperate, whiny sounds from him. With his eyes screwed shut he lets the hand on your thigh manifest the tentacles in place of his fingers. He throws all of his energy into that, trying to stall the twitching of his dick as your hot insides massage him with their relentless pulsing.   

   “Are you sure about that?” He tests, letting the tentacles snake around your thigh before slithering down to where your bodies meet. 

   Immediately, one starts flicking at your clit, making your back go rigid as he grins down at his good work. 

   You wail his name, nails biting at his skin even more but he pays no mind. He has a mission, he’s going to take all of it. 

   He focuses on making his tentacles grow, two long enough to reach up your body and tug at your nipples, and one other snaking down through the mess you’re making to prod at your asshole. Your eyes widen with shock as your body ignites, it’s too much, it’s all too much. Every sensation is heightened, every poke and flick and thrust sends shards of pleasure flying through you, piercing you from every direction. 

   You let yourself cry completely then, throwing your head against Tamaki’s collar bone before sobbing into his chest. You know you’re cumming, you can feel it somewhere amongst all the other stimulation, but it’s nearly drowned out, and Tamaki is still fucking you just as hard as he was when this all started. 

   “More, you have more for me, I fucking know it.” He huffs as he finally pushes into your ass with the tentacle. 

   The ones on your nipples latch on with their suction cups as he fills you more and more. 

   “Give it to me, angel, give it all to your hero.” 

   That’s the final push, the last thing you need to send you into the most frenzied orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your vision goes white as your body convulses, ripped apart by the flames of euphoria that turn everything you’ve ever known to ash. Somewhere in the distance you hear Tamaki praising you, telling you how tight you feel, how beautiful you look, how good you are for him. 

   It’s lost in the fray, though, all blurring together as you shake violently around him. The only thing that brings you back slightly, is the break in his voice when he sobs, “I’m gonna stuff that little cunt with my cum, I’m gonna make you mine.”

   Your hand is at the back of his neck instantly, pulling him down for a messy, aimless kiss. His moans spill into your mouth as his hips falter, turning to slow, stuttering thrusts as he starts to pump his release deep into you. 

   “I’m yours - I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.” You chant it against his lips as his tears fall to your cheeks, mixing with your own as you both shatter for each other.

   Coming back down isn't easy at all. It's slow and needy, your hands still pulling at whatever skin they can grab, hips rolling against each other, trying with everything you both have to prolong that rapturous feeling. 

   Frantically, painfully, he pulls himself out of you. He slides his hot mouth down your body, nipping and sucking as he descends to your messy cunt. He spreads your legs wide so he can bury his face between them. He teases your clit briefly, but moves quickly to press his open mouth against your hole.

   Your skin boils as you watch the nasty show. His eyes cross sinfully and flutter shut as he tongue at your well used pussy. When he pulls back, his chin is covered in some wretched mixture of your combined releases. He moves back up your body like an animal stalking its prey.

   He grabs your jaw and you open so willingly. His mouth is on yours instantly, pushing the warm liquid onto your tongue with his own. It’s a spunky, intense flavor, almost overwhelming as he spreads it around your mouth. It creates a dark, blurry feeling in your chest, though. It makes you feel alive, it makes you want more.

   He pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva and sin connecting your lips as he pants down at you. 

   “You’re such a good little girl.” 

   His lips are everywhere, pressing against your cheekbones, your nose, your forehead. His hands return to normal so he can cradle your face. You both lay there, still joined, catching your breath. 

   "Angel?" 

   The tenderness in his voice pulls you back down to earth, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself lost in his. It’s a harsh but marvelous contrast with the sharp edges of his previous behavior.

   "Does anything h-hurt?" He asks timidly. 

   The stutter is back, the anxious look in his eyes, the restlessness in his hands. 

   You reach out to hold his face like he's holding yours, "Tamaki, no, nothing hurts. You made me feel so good." 

   You don't ever want to be a source of hesitation for him again. You want to make it better. He's brilliant, he's brave, he saved your damn life. He doesn't need to be so scared around you. 

   "You're my hero, Suneater." You pull him down for a soft, intimate kiss. 

   He breathes out against you, more of his tears wet your cheeks but you don't mind. 

   He's allowed to feel this, he earned this. 

   When the kiss breaks he searches your face, waiting for you to laugh at him, to push him off, to change your mind. 

   You don't, though. 

   You stay there with him, loving him and full of him. 

   "And you're mine." 

   You both settle there, kissing skin that hasn't been kissed before, finding ways to make each other fall even more. 

   Tamaki tells himself he did the right thing. You don't ever have to know why Dabi chose your house to break into. You don't ever need to be told that he spent endless nights watching you from the window, because he has you know. 

   It would be wrong of him to tell you, you wouldn't understand it. It would break your heart and ruin everything. Then, it would get messy. You might try to run away, and that would mean he'd have to keep you in different ways. 

   He shakes the thoughts from his head. He can keep you like this, laid out and blushing for him, so soft and beautiful. 

   You belong to him now, and that's all that there is. 

   "Can I take care of you?” He asks softly, playing with the necklace he gave you as he gives you a shy glance. 

   “You just did.” You let yourself laugh a little as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

   “No, not like that.” He smiles softly, dipping down to kiss your neck so softly you almost can’t feel it, “Like this.” 

   He presses his lips against a mark you didn’t know he made, lingering for a moment as his eyes flutter shut. 

   “These say that you’re mine.” His thumb traces over one of the circular bruises on your ribs, “They say you have someone protecting you.”

   The prospect makes your heart soar. He’s right, belonging to him means you’ll always be safe, you’ll always have somebody willing to fight for you, maybe even somebody willing to stay with you. 

   “This says that you belong to me.” He loops a finger around the delicate pearl on your necklace, pulling gently, not enough to make you go anywhere, but enough to make you feel the metal tug against the back of your neck. 

   ‘You do belong to me, don’t you.” He asks, a wild, fearful look in his eyes. 

   You do, you just told him so, you just cried to him and vowed that you were his just moments ago. 

   “I do, I belong to you, I swear.” You reassure him, pulling a deep sigh from his chest. 

   You don’t understand the way he aches for you, the way he’s addicted to you. He was already hooked, from just glances and flighty touches. Now, having felt your soft skin, the tuck of your waist, having seen you cry and heard you call his name, he’s willing to admit his obsession. 

   He does take care of you, he does it beautifully. He carries you to the bathroom where he sets you on the edge of the tub. He fills it with warm, soapy water before picking you up bridal style so he can settle into the water with you in his lap. 

   Neither of you bother to turn a light on, content with the glow of the moon shining through the skylight. Tamaki paints your shoulders with soft kisses as he rubs soothing circles into your back. He takes his sweet time, wiping away the sweat and the tears, mindful of the tender spots on the back of your thighs. 

   “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs, “An angel, nothing less.” 

   You melt into him, lost in his praise, blinded by his devotion as well as your own. 

   Tamaki is just as lost, if not more, only becoming more possessive with every gentle touch, with every whispered adoration. 

   This is how it’s meant to be, and you don’t ever need to know how it all fell into place. He did the right thing, after all. This isn’t a problem, he’s in love. He’s in love and now he has you. 

   He intends on keeping it that way.