#on top of whatever shenanigans happen daily

[dnangelic]

collected my drafts. patting my inbox. i wrote a lot today!!! i must sneep before i throw off my sleep schedule big time again

[ghostselkie]

So an idea for a nevermore au literally came to me in a dream

I had this weird dream where Lenore was the apprentice to a death god, but like it was angsty cause like she didn't really want to be. Look it was a dream and that's all I remember.

So here are nearly all the thoughts that came from that.

Warning: This gets heavy. Death is talked about extensively and suicide is mentioned. If you are not in a headspace to read about that, please come back another time.

Then I woke up and realized there was something to that idea. So in this au Death would sometimes yoink humans who they think would be good for the job, the reason being that it can be easier for dying and dead humans to interact with an entity that was once human. Death typically appears during mass casualty events, or when a human would need their presence, or when they want to make a human psychopomp. As for the humans Death makes psychopomps, they are typically people who delt with death regularly, and/or people that have the right personality. Lenore is the latter.

Now typically dead people get to choose weather they stay as a ghost, reincarnate immediately, or be a ghost for a little while and reincarnate a bit later. If Death wants you to be a psychopomp, there is no getting out of it.

So, basically the whole dying on their wedding day happens to Lenore and Annabel. Lenore becomes a psychopomp, and Annabel reincarnates. The au would be set in the modern day and psychopomp!Lenore and Annabel would meet. Now I think psychopomps can have a corporeal form, and while people can of course see them, not many people can register them. And if they do get noticed, they are quickly forgotten about. Now some people can notice them more easily, these tend to be old and/or terminally ill people, those who are close to death. So imagen Lenore's surprise when Annabel, some one who is young, not only notices, but starts talking to Lenore. Now normally, for a young person who doesn't give of terminally ill vibes, them talking to a psychopomp is a really bad sign. The reason Annabel actually registers Lenore's existence is because of soulmate shenanigans, and because Lenore deals with souls on a daily basis, she quickly figures this out.

I'm thinking Prospero and Eulalie could also be psychopomps. Prospero cause he was a doctor and saw a lot of death, he knows how to deal with it. And Eulalie because Eulalie.

Now the thing is, psychopomps aren't quite human any more. On top of being immortal, what happens when a human soul becomes a psychopomp is that death gives this person a portion of their power. Now, psychopomps don't govern death, they just guide people through it, but with the line of work (and a portion of deaths power) their view on life and death shifts. Death is the great equalizer, and as Death's guides, they have to be impartial, it doesn't matter where the person came from or what they did, they are dead now and have to be treated with compassion. So all psychopomps end up being very compassionate towards all humans.

They don't need to breath, drink, eat, or sleep either. In fact most of those are uncomfortable, or just inconvenient for them. With food and drink, they can chew and swallow, but nothing else will happen, and if they teleport, or go incorporeal, everything will just fall to the ground; it's gross. As for sleeping, well basically what happens when some one dies and a psychopomp is needed, they get this feeling that they need to be some where. If they take to long doing whatever, they teleport automatically, cause like trying to resist the call is so spiritually uncomfortable for them. So like imagen your taking a nice nap, then you get woken up cause you have to go to work, but you feel like you're dying backwards cause the nap was really good, but now you have to provide a dead person therapy while really groggy.

Also, the not knowing when and where you have to be until you're needed is the reason they don't often have sex with mortals. Like ghosts understand the job of the psychopomp, and don't take them having to leave personally. But like with mortals, a psychopomp can't explane to them why they need to leave, and said mortal would absolutely take it personally. Typically this isn't a problem, as psychopomps don't have much of sex drive to begin with (that comes with the whole being dead thing, also they can still be attracted to people, this isn't vtm), and if they did want to, it would just be with a ghost for the reason above. Occasionally though, soulmate shenanigans will happen, and the psychopomp's soulmate will be alive. The sexual tension between them will be palpable.

Now on to why there are multiple psychopomps. Well first of all, unlike death, psychopomps aren't omnipresent. And while death cares deeply for humans, they are also acutely aware that their presence isn't the beast for recently dead humans, due how fundamentally inhuman death is. So, death created psychopomps, entities that where once human that could more effectively guide people through death. Yeah, psychopomps are basically glorified therapists for dead people. Another reason is that certain psychopomps are better for dealing with certain dead people than others would be. For instance, Prospero tends to deal with people who were terminally ill, people who die in hospitals, and people who died because of medical malpractice. Eulalie tends to deal with dead kids, and people who burned to death. Lenore tends to deal with people who died in accidents, people who were murdered, and people who lost the battle with their mental health. Essentially, psychopomps help those who they would be good at dealing with based on the events of their life and how they died. Also language barriers still exist for dead people, psychopomps just cant magically communicate with everyone. World building notes:

A psychopomp's corporeal form only creates the illusion of life, and it's not quite exact, as something with a portion of death's power can never perfectly mimic life. Their body temperature is a bit colder than normal, though, buy itself, not low enough to raise any alarm bells. It tends to hover around 95.1-96.9° F (35-36° C). Their heart beat is also slower than average, not enough to be life threatening though. Their heart rate can speed up, to make the illusion more convincing, but it never gets above 100bpm . Also because they don't need to breath, they don't get winded. They just breath to keep up appearances.

Important to note that electronics can pick up psychopomps in their corporeal form, though the mimetic effect they have on humans does extend through the video. Though still they have to be wary of cameras.

When incorporeal, they can float around and faze through walls like ghosts can. They can also teleport in this form.

They also have the power to manifest peoples memories. It's mostly used as a way to give comfort people who have just died. So like for a smoker they could manifest cigarettes. For a kid, a security blanket. For an autistic person, a favorite sensory toy, or maybe a weighted blanket. Basically, they can manifest anything that could comfort a dead person as long as that person has a memory of it. (for Annabel it would be tea) Now, psychopomps don't really use this any thing other than comforting the dead, however when Annabel starts interacting with Lenore, she starts getting memories of her past life.

Psychopomps have sort of a 6th sense when it comes to death. Like they can sense how close some one is to dying. The older they get the more exact this becomes. Also they can just generally feel when things die.

Because of this the typical psychopomp things aren't all they do. Like if they see some one who they feel is close to death, they will try to help, in any way that they are aloud to, such as calling 911, or talking some on down, and if they can't do any thing, they'll just sit with that person so they don't have to die alone. The reason being, everyone will die eventually, why not give them a little extra time. This is why they have corporeal forms, to comfort the dying.

Also almost no psychopomp has a phone, car, house, money, or really anything you need to live as a human, but like its not like they need it. Plus they can't get a job because they don't legally exist. Usually, the most they'll have is an email.

psychopomps can hop in and out of the afterlife at will, they can also teach ghosts how to.

oh yeah, the afterlife is really just a place for ghosts to hang out and vibe when they are not doing ghost shit, and it's also like a "break" room for psychopomps. A break from having to deal mortals, not a break from their job. They are on call 24/7/365. Death doesn't sleep and neither do they.

The afterlife is a combination of human memories of the living world and humanities collective unconsciousness of what the afterlife is like.

Ghost's can't take a corporeal form.

Also, since both Theo and Lenore are dead in this au they can interact with each other. So, like Theo (and Lenore's ghost friends) will sometimes fallow her around while she's in her corporeal form and do silly ghost shit that only she (and other psychopomps) can see. Though some times Lenore will want to join in on the conversation, so she has to find a privet place to go incorporeal. Yes, the memetic effect psychopomps have on humans helps them not get noticed, if something happens, or they do something that would draw attention to them, like Lenore talking to talking to people that "aren't there," or straight up disappearing, humans will notice.

I'm calling this my psychopomp!Lenore au.

[fruitytrollroll]

Your writing is so good both your prismo/scarab fics had me checking ao3 for updates daily! I really hope you'll be writing more prismo(&nightmo)/scarab I'm obsessed with how you write them😭 But even if you dont I'll definitely be visiting your page for new writing anyway, glad I discovered your works through this pairing!

omg, thank you so much!! 🥺💖✨️ Though my current top ships are Scorbo and Kheiroscarab, I have to give full credit to my Prismo/Scarab roots! I wouldn't have rotated this bug boy like a dung ball in my brain so DETERMINEDLY if not for that auspicious first foray into bounty hunter bug x wall sticker cosmic yaoi, so I'm delighted to hear you awaited it so eagerly, and that you think of it so fondly! 🥰

And I DO still have some Prismo/Scarab (AND Nightmo/Scarab! >:3c) coming down the pipeline, so hopefully you'll be well-provided for in that regard! Namely 1) some post-canon time room shenanigans, 2) a definitive sequel to the Rizzmo story "perpetual youth", and 3) a Nightmo-centric sequel to "in the shadow of the luminary"! I may have said it before, but I only stumbled upon Scorbo because I was trying to write a sequel to the Nightmo debacle when I realized, "surely Orbo wouldn't stand idly by while Scarab was clearly in so much distress..." and, well, the rest is history! But by god I'll make this ontologically perverse little bastard son of Rizzmo a sentient being yet. ☺️✨️

(And maybe some Dark Medieval Mystery Drama... it NEEDS to be written, and the person who needs to write it is ME...)

My friend @mouseyblue-ao3 has more Prismo/Scarab prepared to post soon than I do, and I highly recommend their work! Very creative stuff in weird Scarab sex scholarship happening in their neck of the woods. You should consider subscribing! Personally I'm very excited for what they have in store! :3c

Anyway, thank you so much for sticking around!! 🥺💖✨️ It's always a joy to entice readers who will indiscriminately read my work no matter what fandom I'm writing in, so I hope you'll enjoy whatever comes next! 🥰

[typhoonvash]

// Canary Is Not Immune To Plant Bloom Headcanons

while bloom is seasonal, it can happen if around flora that are also in bloom

even if triggered by other flora, it will last a month. sorry canary.

he tries so, so hard to hide it. he.. kinda succeeds... but there are things that he can't hide.

for instance his body temperature rises significantly. enough so that if someone is sleeping next to him or touching him for whatever reason, they'd legitimately think the poor guy's deathly sick. he usually runs so, so cold.

but also usually he can't sleep. too much energy. can't sleep, won't get tired, but this leads to extreme boredom and (likely) shenanigans when he tries to do anything to get his mind off of fking/getting fked

some of this extra energy is given to his partner(s), so they also often dont feel the need for sleep. eventually they gotta though. don't mind the man with bright cyan eyes watching you from the corner of the room, it's normal.

inhuman qualities are enhanced: eyes more glowy, shows teeth more often (smiles, fangies outside lips, etc), faster, stronger, more vines, stronger glowies (harder to control when glowing also)

he um. also tends to get larger and longer when topping.

despite his Extreme Horny it's still only for people close to him. this. made blooms quite often just an inconvenience that he could deal with. having people he is involved with??? well now it's so over for him.

switches between blanketing himself in bed writhing around and pacing and going on MANY walkies. basically just keeps himself moving because it feels like his entire skin's gonna vibrate off his body.

getting what he wants does help, but the general feeling lasts a full month. it just gets weaker after a bit of a marathon. if fked daily, he feels (almost) normal every day! yay!

his taste changes from something akin to peaches (and slick) to a flowery-sweet aromatic flavor. skin, sweat, saliva, the man is practically a sprig of lavender. it may seem great, but the scent is extremely strong. can make it... difficult... to hide. in general.

while his ~*~fluids~*~ (look i'm trying not to trigger any no-no words) normally have an aphrodisiac effect, during bloom it's um. intense. we're talking like, "if you have an erection lasting longer than 4 hrs consult a doctor" levels of intense. it's fine. don't worry about it.

on the bright side, his self-healing is super jacked!

...tends to get very clingy/possessive (not in a toxic way) though. can get whiny even when partner gets up to just. go get food or something.

doesn't do the whole nest building thing. he does just like having pressure on him though—so blankievash, partner just flopping on top of him, hell, even restraints, are favorite things during the month.

because it's so dry on gunsmoke, he ends up static shocking people often. hair also stands on end (just a bit, kind of just looks like his usual hair but slightly messier)

once you get a taste, you crave more. so long as you stay near this idiot, you'll have a thirst that can't really be quenched unless... yeah.

tends to? collect things?? he'll just pick stuff up and bring it to his partner(s) as a gift. some kind of mating ritual.

look basically what i'm saying is that this man's body is a mess and keeping contained is near impossible. also, assuming they are sexually active (are also adults and are interested in sex at all), people in close enough proximity to him will just be inexplicably horny. doesn't have to be for him, isn't an impulse to fuck right then and there; it's just a. "huh weird" kind of "why am i horny this time" sensation.

all of this is by discussion only ofc. there's also the uh, whole reason for blooming, but again. that's a touchy subject and it's SUPER BY DISCUSSION ONLY BECAUSE UuuUUuuuHHh yeah. like i don't mind, but also like. idk. it's touchy. anyway if you read this i'm sorry my man is a little freak.

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Happy turkey day to you too! :D very thankful for you & the starburst duo :) got some more questions

1: you probably answered this already but what was Chris first couple of weeks/months like after being sent out of the phantom zone?

2: is Chris’s fear of being sent away the same in the comics? Like after removing the red sun watch he caught the apartment on fire or maybe since he’s living in Hamilton country, he set the fields on fire instead.

3: what’s the duos drawing style like? Is it canonically the same type as yours? (Or was it your buddy spider-jays)

4: besides Chris receiving a nut shot from a bully (poor guy) what’s the worst thing the duo received from bullies? Assaulted, wet Willie, putting head into toilet, wedgies, etc…

5: speaking of wedgies, does the duo do that to each other while wrestling or maybe on patrol waiting for crime to happen?

6: I don’t know if you read the recent action comics and/or if it’s canon to your universe, but what’s Chris’s reaction to the super twins? Is he cool with them & see them as younger siblings or does his anxiety kick in of being replaced?

Well? Here’s what I can come up with for these questions my friend @gothicghost2000 ;-)

1. Very similar to the canonical first half of Last Son, during the first week of staying with the Kents (after of course being rescued from the DEO after they confirmed his Kryptonian biology), he mainly spoke the Kryptonian language to which only Clark can understand and communicate with. He also suffered a bit of his memories being scrambled, not remembering his birth name or his time in the Phantom Zone in full but at least knowing he’s free now from a certain person from there, aware of where he is now and the he has no desire to go back to where he came from. He feels very nervous around Lois at first due to overhearing her comments of doubt whether they can fully reside him, especially since they wonder if Jon will feel like he’s been replaced. This though comes to a head when Bizarro, under secret orders from Luthor, attempts to take Chris for whatever scheme Luthor had in mind. The resulting brawl that followed had Lois saw poor Chris have a nearby school bus lane on him. He came unscathed of course but the look of fear in his eyes was more than enough to drive her to get him to safety. However as the globe on top of the Daily Planet building was knocked off its hinges and plummeted to them, Chris in turn rescued Lois via flying to catch the globe himself. As soon as Bizarro was defeated and apprehended, Lois small and subtle growing bond with Chris was solidified, she’s ready to take in another child into her household. Thus through some legal shenanigans and Oracle related info dumping, Chris was finally allowed to stay with the Kents, first as a foster child but in all too due time as a fully adopted son, a big brother for Jon.

2. Oh yes very much. That fear of being rejected for one or few things he does wrong, intentional or not, permeates his conscience beyond any doubt. And yes, I can see him accidentally lose control of his power via removing the red solar watch, resulting in a solar flare that would destroy the Kent’s’ then house/apartment by accident. Similarly though, it takes one of the first of many heart to heart talks between Clark and Chris to let the latter know it wasn’t his fault and that he does belong with them. Thankfully either way, the Kents are able to move to a new house at Hamilton Country with some nifty small upgrades and pleasantries, among them a small hidden portal to the Fortress of Solitude if needed.

3. Very much, the artwork of them provided by the great @spider-jaysart are what I envision. Honorable mention though should go to @theredheaded-stuff whose had about one or few drawings of them that capture their looks quite well

4. Back when the Duo were slightly younger but still in a school that has sixth grader bullies, I can easily predict their stuff in their lockers being trashed, toilet swirlies, their lunch money getting taken, all too common insults about their families (especially for poor Jake due to his grandparents, the Flying Graysons, and their ‘accident’ being an all too common favorite for bullies across the generations to pick up on, and even their passing homework getting shredded right in front of their eyes. That is though if they allow the bullies to get to them on that level so easily.

5. Not when play wrestling but when it comes to crime fighting, probably they can do such for especially uncooperative and jerkish common low level thugs. Mainly crooks who get power wedgies from the Duo would be left on streetlights and even telephone poles with sticky notes that the Duo’s logo and say “Bad Guy” for police to pick up later. Jake is often the one doing more so of the wedgie action as per the fact his training environment is Bludhaven, where fighting dirty is a bit of a common occurrence

6. If say we jump ahead to Chris and Jon aging naturally into their late teens when Otho and Osul move in, I can see Chris being something of a close brother figure to them akin to Jon is. He’d tell them all sorts of stories from when he was their age and take part in their training into superheroics if they choose to do so. He’s overall got no real issue with them beyond the initial shock of them entering the Kents’ household. By this point in his life, he knows much better than thinking of younger new members of the family replacing him.

Happy (late) Thanksgiving and Black Friday Friend :-D

[beels-burger-babe]

If you haven't answered this yet, what do you think the brothers' love languages are?

Alright! Now that I am sitting down, I can answer these! (I realized halfway through writing this, this is basically one of those headcanon thingies and changed the format)

Lucifer.

Man is the literal embodiment of Pride.

He won't say "I love you" until you say it first. As a result, he shows his love in other ways.

Lucifer shows his love in how attentive he is to you.

He'll check in throughout the day and see how you're doing.

He'll always make sure that he's aware of all of your needs, and the moment something is wrong or you need something, he's there.

He takes pride in being the one who knows you best and being able to help and provide for you whenever he can.

Mammon.

Ah, our dear tsundere.

At first, Mammon definitely has a hard time talking about his feelings, but I feel like once he's pushed past his denial of them and has confessed, our boy would be more open about it.

That being said, Mammon is the Avatar of Greed, so I feel like he'd show his love in a more material way.

He'd give you gifts whenever he can.

If he sees ANYTHING that reminds him of you even the slightest bit, he's buying it.

He also gives you things that he thinks will remind you of him.

So you probably have half of his closet. It makes him happy to see you wear his jacket in public

It tells others that you're his

Leviathan.

So, as the self-deprecating otaku that he is, Levi gets nervous about all kinds of aspects of your relationship, and boy is showing his feelings one of them.

Still, I think the way Levi shows his love is in small things.

He'll want to talk to you even more about his favourite animes and games because he trusts you enough not to make fun of him.

Even more telling, he'll start asking you about your opinion on them or even what your favourite animes and games are.

He'll also just be inviting you to spend time in his room with him as frequently as possible, that way there's less of a chance of you changing your mind on how you feel about him.

Satan.

You cannot convince me that Satan is not a hopeless romantic.

We're talking about a man who lives in a literal library and has been reading every book he can get his hands on for centuries.

So yeah. Satan pulls out all the stops.

He does the big gestures.

He serenades you with poetry that reminds him of you.

He'll wake you up with breakfast in bed.

He'll take you for every single cliché date in the books, and to cat cafes.

Why is all of this so special?

It means that Satan is not afraid to let down his mask and be soft and nerdy around you. You taught him that he's more than just Wrath, and now he'll want to spend every last second proving you right.

Asmodeus

As the Avatar of Lust, Asmo is extremely affectionate physically.

But that's not the only way that he shows his love.

You taught Asmodeus that he is more than just his beauty, and that means so much more to him than he can put into words.

So he dotes on you.

He'll always be asking if he can brush your hair for you or do your nails.

He'll put together matching outfits for the two of you to wear.

If he notices you're stressed, he'll run a bubble bath for you and give you a massage.

Most importantly, his flirting that he did on daily basis will transition from quips about your physical appearance and sensuality to more sentimental, nearly poetic, compliments about how kind, beautiful and simply radiant you are.

Because he doesn't want you to think that he only loves you for your appearance either.

Beelzebub

Listen. I'm the first person to say "Beel's character isn't just his appetite."

But let's be honest.

If our hungry himbo loves you, part of the way he's gonna show it is by sharing his favourite foods with you.

Beyond that, however, I think Beel will also just want to be around you more.

Beel wants to protect the things he loves, and if that includes you, he'll be extremely protective of you.

He's always offering to help you with even the smallest things

He makes sure that your health and get enough water, food, sleep, and if you take prescription medicine, he'll remind you to take those too.

Beel just wants to see you happy and healthy and will do everything in his power to make sure that happens

Belphegor

So Belphie, similar to Beel, will become more protective and attentive of you, but he does it in a more subtle way.

If one of his brothers tries to rope you into a shenanigan that sounds dangerous, he'll yawn and lay down on top of you so that you can't leave.

He'll always make sure that you aren't overworking yourself, and will drag you into a cuddle pile if you are.

He'll make sure that he knows everything about you.

Especially any fears or triggers, so that he can avoid them and protect you from them.

Belphie knows that he's caused you a lot of pain already, and he wants to do whatever he can to make sure that you're never afraid or hurt again.

Also, I don't think he would tease you as much.

I know what you're thinking, but hear me out.

Look at how he is with Beel. He is so incredibly soft and careful when he's with Beel because he loves him more than any of his other brothers.

He'd be the exact same way with MC. Careful, gentle, and soft.

[stutterfly]

Tricks of the Trade | MYG (M)

Shared as part of the Similarly Sequestered game with @kpopfanfictrash​, @underthejoon​, @fortunexkookie​, @gukslut​ and me!

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 24.1K Prompt: “The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences.” {Body Swap AU, Soulmates AU}

Genre: Fluff, humor, smut, oneshot

Summary: The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

CW & Other Tags: Anxiety attacks, language, oral sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, Agent of Chaos Jin, shopkeeper Yoongi, idiots to lovers, frenemies to lovers, bodyswap shenanigans

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader

Posted on June 23, 2020 by stutterfly and cross-posted to Ao3. I do not allow reposting, translations, or edits, to this or any other platform, including YouTube.

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The bell at the top of the door jingles as another customer walks into the store, but you pay them no mind. You’re already scanning the refrigerated drinks section for the third time, scouring the rows of cans and bottles for your beverage of choice. There’s only one kind of energy drink you want but its usual location is barren. Desperate to find what you’re searching for, you squat down to look behind the other drinks in the fridge.

“You’re not going to find any.”

The familiar, disinterested drawl of the shopkeeper has you popping up from the floor to look over at him. He wears a green apron over a black tee and a pair of faded jeans. His back is to you so he doesn’t have to see your face when you complain. He reaches up to take off his baseball cap and runs his fingers through thick locks of ebony hair before returning the cap to his head. He spares a glance over his shoulder at you, knowing you’re watching him. He sighs loudly as he continues to stock nearby shelves with boxes of cereal.

When he opened this tiny shop across from your apartment about a year ago, you thought he was cute, but he’s always seemed cold to you. The gossips around town say he’s a bit scrawny, monotone and boorish, but you like his voice and you like his style. He must be intelligent if he started this business from nothing, especially at his age. Not many people in their late twenties can say they are as independent as Yoongi.

He has confidence and pride in his values. You’ve seen him tell rude people off without a second thought and kick people out for being racist towards other customers. He puts on a front to seem unapproachable but you’ve seen him give a carton of milk to a mother who didn’t have money to pay for it, and free candy to a group of kids on a rainy day. While he pretends to be an old grump who shuffles around his shop all day, you’ve seen him get the energy to sprint around the block after a shift and then collapse at the cafe tables next door. He’s weird. He’s honest. He’s kind-hearted. It’s easy to admire him.

He bends down to pick up more boxes, and you cock your head to the side to stare at the way his ass looks in those jeans. He’s also insanely attractive. It’s no wonder you still come in here every day.

The more you see of him, the more you feel you know him, and the more you’ve grown to like him. The problem is that your relationship with the shopkeeper has shifted into a weird territory you’re not sure how to escape from. It’s not that you hate each other, but it seems you can’t hold a conversation without getting on each other’s nerves. Either you’re always saying the wrong thing or he’s pressing all the wrong buttons when he teases you.

At first you read his teasing as awkward flirting but for someone so blunt, you’ve convinced yourself he would have been straightforward and said the words out loud. I like you. Let’s get a drink. It would be easy for him to say, wouldn’t it? Despite trying to convince yourself he’s not interested, you can’t help but flirt with him at any opportunity to do so. However, you seem to forget how the moment he looks at you. It’s like your flirting skills took an exit down a shitty highway and now you’ve lost the GPS signal to navigate back to civilization.

Talking with Yoongi has become an ache you can’t seem to give up so you’ll take whatever excuse you can to keep doing so. That usually takes the form of you poking fun at one another until you hurt your own feelings. Sometimes you spend the remainder of a day thinking about the ways you can fix tomorrow’s fictitious conversation. You forgot how being infatuated with someone can make you feel so stupid. He’s not your life, just a part that you wish could be more prominent. It’s fine.

All you have to do is get your morning beverage and pastry before working your shift. Then you can focus on how nice it will feel to do nothing all weekend and catch up on TV shows.

“So…. What did you do with it? Are you hiding them from me today?” You quickly snap your eyes to his face as he twists his body to look up at you.

He scoffs. “Not me. College kids came through last night and cleared them out.”

“But you know I always get one,” you pout, crossing your arms like it’s going to make a difference.

He turns his attention back to his task, slowly stacking the boxes in silence before he clicks his tongue. “So? I can’t just hide stuff for you, you know.”

“Don’t you have more in the back? You’ve never run out of Hot6 before.”

He laughs to himself. “This isn’t a warehouse. I have to wait for product to arrive before I can restock. Just get a Red Bull. It tastes the same.”

You crinkle your nose at him. “It does not.”

He crosses the store with a roll of his eyes and a loud sigh. Before long he’s back at the register and sipping on his iced americano. “Whatever. Why do you care? It’s easier if you develop a taste for espresso. Then you don’t have to worry about that kind of thing. Besides, energy drinks aren’t that great for you, you know.”

You make a sound of disgust as you sulk your way over to the pastry cabinet. “Jeez. Do you always have to have such a stick in your ass? You act like coffee is so much better for you.”

“More caffeine, less sugar. I guarantee you it’s better,” he says with a smack of his lips against his straw.

“Whatever, Grandpa. Hmm... Muffin, muffin, muffin…” you quietly chant to yourself as your eyes rake over the racks in search of your daily pastry fix. Today seems to be against you: no muffins.

“We’re out of those too,” he says. “You know you could stand to change up your routine. Don’t you get sick of getting the same things every day?”

You bite your lip and look over the case of pastries, grabbing a simple croissant. “I like my routine, but I guess I could always stop coming here.”

“If that’s what you want.” He sighs dramatically as he leans over the counter, resting on his elbows as he surveys the store. “Well, I could enjoy a quiet morning for once.”

You roll your eyes.“Pfft. You like to argue, so I know you’d miss me.”

There’s a squeaky laugh from behind one of the shelves and as your attention shifts to the sound, a young man with dusty pink hair pokes his head up. He must be rather tall if he’s able to look over the aisles. You quirk an eyebrow at his strange laughter and wonder what kind of stranger could be so entertained by the pair of you.

“Sorry. It’s just…” He holds up a card that neither of you can really make out at this distance. “On the front it says ‘It’s Your Birthday?’ and inside it says ‘Alpaca my party hat!’. Ha! And there’s this pop-up of the alpaca with a bandana and party hat.” He giggles again as he opens and closes the card a few times and waves his hand. “Sorry. Sorry. You can continue flirting now.”

“This is not—” Your breath catches in your throat and you have to take a moment to swallow down your embarrassment before turning back towards Yoongi. “Can you believe this guy?”

He’s in the middle of taking a bite from a half-eaten muffin when your eyes meet his guilty ones. Your jaw falls open as he slowly chews and rings you up, placing the remainder of the pastry back down on the counter.

“You took the last one?”

“I had a craving.” He shrugs.

“You knew I would want it and you took it so I couldn’t have it,” you guess in a playful tone. “Was your aim to make me suffer double today? You’re so cruel, Yoongi.”

He pauses to poke his tongue against his cheek as he handles your change. “It’s not like I planned it. Don’t make me out to be some bad guy.”

“Bad guy. Tch. No, I wouldn’t go that far.” You lean forward, planting your hands on the counter and ensuring a clear sightline into your shirt. “I think you just like getting under my skin.”

He bristles at your words, taking the bait and dropping his gaze to the lace exposed for his eyes. He licks his lips and lazily lets his eyes drift back to your face, his expression unreadable. “Maybe that’s true.”

You cock your head and smirk as you stand up straight, your ego slightly inflated. “Is it really so hard to be nice to me? I’m nice to you.”

“Hah!” He breaks into an amused grin. “When?”

You’re taken aback by his response. Surely you’ve been obvious with your infatuation up to this point. You scoff. “Wha- All the time!”

His brows furrow and he crosses his arms with the change still trapped in his palm. “So complaining is a form of politeness now? Then I should be grateful for how often you shower me with kindness.”

“You know I do more than complain! I complain because you complain to me!” you pout, pointing your finger at him. “Maybe we could talk about something meaningful if you ever cared enough to ask.”

His eyebrows raise with the pitch of your voice. It’s not a big deal. This is stupid. You’re overreacting because you like him. You know he’s fucking with you so why is your face still getting hot? Even if he’s joking, he’s planted the seed in your mind that he sees you as a grumpy customer. He’s clearly never thought of you as anything but a negative start to his day. You’ve seen him be sweet but right now he feels as bitter and cold as the coffee he drinks.

“What do you think of this?” the pink-haired stranger asks, donning a pair of thick black frames with orange-tinted lenses.

The man cuts the tension from the room for a brief moment. Yoongi stares at him, his lip curled up in disgust as he slowly shakes his head. When his eyes travel back to yours they seem full of apprehension. Your name rolls off his tongue as though it’s an apology.

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me. Just give me my change,” you grumble, reaching up for his palm.

His grip is impossible to penetrate. He smiles as you struggle to work your fingers beneath his, shaking his head like you’ve revealed some embarrassing secret. Heat builds in your face the longer you stand there fidgeting with his hand. You feel like a fool.

“You’re obnoxious. Let me count it out first,” Yoongi sneers while trying to pull his hand back.

“It’s fine.” You roll your eyes and yank his hand towards you. “I don’t need you to count it.”

“You know what I think you need?”

The other customer leans beside the counter, a new pair of glasses on his face that are twice as hideous as the first pair. As you turn to look at the stranger you can see the pair of you reflected in hues of red and yellow in those disturbingly 90s opaque lenses. It almost looks like you’re holding hands. You stiffen at the sight but keep your fingers locked against Yoongi’s calloused ones as you focus on the pricetag dangling across the man’s nose.

The stranger slowly moves a closed fist above the place where your hand and Yoongi’s meet. He waits a few seconds until you’re both focused on his hand before a flash of silver falls from his palm. You almost mistake the shapes for identical necklaces until they untangle and rotate to reveal two halves that form a heart.

The fluorescent lights of the store highlight the engraved text on each. One says ‘BEST’ while the other half reads ‘FRIENDS’. The faux-metal irritates your neck the moment you think about it touching your skin. The chains appear fragile and cheap, like they might break at the slightest amount of tension. If this guy thinks you’re going to take these he must be delusional.

You exchange a quizzical look with Yoongi as the necklaces dangle between you. He’s distracted enough that you’re able to pry your change from his sweaty palm.

“Uh. No thanks,” you say, shoving the coins in your pocket before grabbing your croissant. You take a moment to regard Yoongi with a scowl, cocking your head to the side. “See you, Grandpa.”

The stone in his gut sinks as he watches you leave but he forces his attention to the pink haired stranger in the obscenely reflective glasses.

“You know, I think she likes you,” he whispers with a wink.

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It’s been a long day but at least you don’t have to go out tomorrow. You’ve already changed into your favorite pair of comfy shorts but as you move to unbutton your work shirt something smacks against your chest. Did something get trapped in your cleavage?

“What the fuck?”

As you look down your stomach does a somersault. There’s a necklace draped around your neck with a half-broken heart pendant, etched with the word ‘BEST’. How did that guy sneak this ugly thing onto you? How did you not feel it until now? Maybe he’s some sort of street magician. Your shock is accompanied by a chuckle as you reach behind your neck to fidget with the clasp. Spinning the chain between your fingertips, you soon realize there isn’t one. This thing feels like a dollar store trinket, so you curl your fingers around the charm and pull down with all of your might. It remains secure around your neck no matter how hard you tug.

Your mind begins to break into a panic. What the fuck? What the fuck. What. The actual. Fuck.

You quickly throw on a pair of sneakers and nab the keys hanging near the door on your way out of the apartment. It's hard to believe the speed at which your feet carry you down the several flights of stairs. A couple scrambles out of the way as they watch your frenzied descent. Before long you're pressing the entirety of your body against the familiar door of the convenience store across the street.

The clerk looks up from his phone, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise as you stumble past the threshold. Your body nearly folds in half as you plant your hands on your knees and struggle to catch your breath.

"Are you alright?"

You force yourself to stand up straight to address the man standing behind the counter. The word is devoid of conviction as it leaves your mouth. "Yeah."

You know him as Tae, one of Yoongi's part-time employees. Yoongi offered him a job when he heard him say he was looking for work to supplement his endeavors to put himself through art school. You’ve seen him a lot, spoken a little here and there, and he even knows you by name now. If he's here, it's probable that his boss is not. You sigh loudly in an attempt to relieve some of the panic and frustration built up in your brain. It's not like you can just ask Tae to give you Yoongi’s number.

Tae’s wide-eyed stare indicates his concern for your well being but it’s not until he drags his gaze across your body and purses his lips that you feel something is amiss. It's at this point that you realize how much the air conditioner billows the fabric of your work shirt. Goosebumps form along your calves as all of the blood in your body rushes to your face. You quickly cross your arms over your chest to conceal the half-unbuttoned shirt and the bra that pokes out from beneath it. There’s little you can do to cover the expanse of your legs while wearing such form-fitting shorts.

“I was just… checking to see if you have any Hot6,” you say with barely a glance in the direction of the refrigerator section. “But it’s clear you’re still out.”

Tae raises his eyebrows and grants you a subtle, uncertain nod as your eyes settle on the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’

“Is your boss here?” you blurt, reaching for the chain around your neck. “I’ve got a—”

Your stomach drops. It’s gone. Both of your hands instinctively smack at your collarbones, like frantically patting against your flesh will cause the necklace to reappear. You hold your shirt open wide enough to peer down at the skin of your chest with a concentrated gaze, eyes begging for any trace of the tacky piece of jewelry to resurface. Was it really just a figment of your imagination? You swear it was there. You felt it. You pulled on it. It had to be real.

You swallow hard and quickly bounce your eyes to the uncomfortable-looking cashier. All you can offer is a weak chuckle as you try to play it off by shaking out your shirt. “Sorry… I thought there was a bug."

There's an awkward, heavy silence between you as he nods with pursed lips. There's no way this poor guy believes your delusional ass. "Bossman's gone for tonight. Seemed kinda beat."

"Oh."

Your eyes settle on the countertop as your brain tries to rationalize what kind of unresolved issues at work are causing your mental breakdown. You stand there while spacing out, barely blinking. You can't believe you imagined that. Not knowing what to do, Tae walks his fingers towards the miniature cans of Red Bull stacked on the counter. He gracefully sweeps his hand around a can and offers it to you. That breaks you from your daze.

"It kinda tastes the same." He attempts to cut the tension with an endearingly awkward, close-mouthed smile. "My treat?"

If it were Yoongi saying such a thing you might scowl and tell him that he must be delusional if he thinks they're the same. Tae is a much kinder soul. You find yourself softening at his suggestion and shake your head.

"You know I should probably lay off the energy drinks now that I think about it," you say. "Have a good night, Tae."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" he calls after you as you wander back through the door. He leans over the counter. "Oh, hey wait! Do you want me to let bossman know you were looking for him?"

"It's fine!" you shout back on autopilot. You're already sinking into a pool of your own thoughts as the door closes behind you.

It was not fine.

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Sleep does not come easy despite your exhaustion. You find yourself tossing and turning all night. When the light begins to stream through your blinds it seems to strike at the perfect angle to blind your fluttering eyes. You pull the blankets up over your head even though you know it’s of no use; you’re already awake and there’s no going back to sleep now.

You stretch out with a yawn as you sleepily shuffle from the bed to the tiny bathroom around the corner of your room. It’s easy to apply toothpaste to your toothbrush on autopilot, taking a moment to rub your knuckles against an eye before glancing up towards the mirror. How bad is the bedhead today?

The sight that greets you causes you to drop your toothbrush in the sink and stumble back out of the doorway. Your fingers grip the frame to keep you on your feet, your attention quickly drawn to the thick digits situated there. As you force yourself forward, you support yourself with one hand on the counter and bring the other up for inspection. The foreign hand trembles as you turn it back and forth while trying to catch the breath that keeps running away from you. Anxiety sinks its teeth deeper into your lungs, causing a puncture that has you gasping for air.

Calluses adorn your fingertips, accompanied by scratches and scars from moments you've never experienced. Your nails are jagged and short, devoid of the pleasing pink color you applied to them two days ago. You dread the journey your eyes threaten to make towards the mirror once again but you find that you are unable to stop them. The face staring back at you with saucer-wide eyes is none other than Min Yoongi.

Your head feels light. This face is fake. You gasp for the air you can't seem to get enough of and stumble out of the bathroom. The walls seem to wobble in place as you race towards the living room where you can feel the breeze flowing through the window you left open last night. This world is fake. Nothing is real. Air will fix this. If you could just breathe like a normal person everything would be okay.

You fall to your knees within spitting distance of the window. For all the air your body greedily sucks inward, your mind feels bereft of any. Your vision goes dark.

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

Yoongi does his best to make his way up the stairs with poise, but he's almost sure it looks like a waddle more than anything. His thighs --your thighs-- are chafing from the run here and each step is a painful reminder of the irritated flesh still rubbing together beneath these sweatpants. At least one of your neighbors was kind enough to let him into the main entrance. They must have recognized the face he mysteriously woke up with. Luckily your mailbox has your last name on it and as much as you might disagree he does pay attention when you talk.

He tries to wipe the sweat from his brow as he bends down to plant his hands on his knees. Even as his breath recovers, he grows increasingly frustrated with how heavy his chest feels. He repeatedly pushes the hair from his face with a groan, wishing he had taken the scissors to it when he had the opportunity earlier. He takes off the cap atop his head, runs his fingers through his hair, and places it back on his head. Everything is too much. You need to fix this. Take it back.

The faster he tries to ascend the stairs, the more he aches. He finally gives up on looking civil when he decides there's no one else in the stairwell to judge him. After all they'll only remember you anyway so what does it matter? He rolls the sweatpants up above his knees and cups the breasts hidden beneath the oversized sweater for support as he scrambles up the last few floors.

He grimaces at the dainty pink fingernails before curling his hand into a fist and rapping his knuckles against your door. He puffs his cheeks out and expels a long breath. What could you possibly be doing? You have to be in there. He tries the handle to no avail. Are you still asleep? He quickly abandons the need for subtlety and places both palms on the door and drums loudly against it. The sound of the deadbolt unlocking tells him he shouldn't hesitate. He's through the door before you can even properly get off your knees.

Somehow you knew what would be waiting for you on the other side. The sight before you has your mind reeling. That's your body, but it's not you. Could it really be Yoongi? You did not get Freaky-Friday'd with him. There's no fucking way this is reality. You can feel yourself panicking again as you back away from the figure, falling back on your ass. You watch yourself look down at you with a look of disgust.

"What are you doing?" That's definitely your voice.

Your body takes slow steps towards you as it crosses one arm over the other. You lean back on your elbows and groan. It's a deep sound, deeper than anything that's come from your throat even on your sickest day. This isn’t happening.

"Oh my god. I'm fucking dying," you murmur while tilting your head towards the ceiling. "Everything is fake. Nothing is real. I’m going crazy. Please let me rot."

The figure bends down and leans over into your field of vision. The image of your face frowns back at you and pokes you in the chest with a pointed fingernail.

“Stop that.”

“I can’t,” you whine between heavy breaths. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out again.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Those perfectly manicured hands reach out for your shoulders in comfort but you fall flat on your back and your arm flies up to cover your eyes.Tears sting at them as reality warbles around you again. Seeing your own face hovering above you definitely isn’t helping you feel more sane.

"I don't know what's happening," you sob.

With each breath you suck between your quivering lips, your chest aches. Suddenly that pair of hands is cupping your jaw and pushing your arm aside. You look into the eyes you are already so familiar with, but they seem far more caring than you’ve ever managed to display.

"We need to undo whatever is happening right now," he says calmly. "You don't have to like it. You don't have to tell me you're okay. But I need you to sit up and pull yourself together long enough to help me figure this out. Can you do that?"

You swallow hard and nod slowly as you take the hand offered to you. A half-smirk appears on his lips; it's strange to see yourself reflected with such warmth, especially knowing it's coming from Yoongi.

"Good. Now please go change. I can't look at those shorts anymore.”

You look down at your attire for the first time and realize how absurd Yoongi’s body looks in the clothing you wore to bed. The skimpy tank top clings to the muscular, flat chest you now possess. Worse still, you can see bits of flesh poking out against that hairy inner thigh below. You squeeze your eyes shut and pretend like you can forget what you just saw sticking out of your shorts.

You take a deep breath as your face burns with embarrassment. “Okay. Give me your pants.”

He stiffens at your demand and scoffs. “What?”

“I don’t have anything that will fit you— er, I mean, me. Us?” You gesture at your body and stare at the floor, trying to will yourself to not dissociate. “This. You can’t be comfortable either.”

There’s a sigh before he plops down on your couch with legs spread wide open. “My back hurts and my thighs rubbed together so much I don’t want to move anymore.”

You can’t help but laugh at the admission. At least he feels your pain. He looks up at you while reclining his head on the cushion behind him. You’re not hyperventilating anymore so distraction seems to be the key to keeping you relatively calm.

“Why you, of all people?” he wonders.

You roll your eyes and stomp across the room and disappear into your bedroom. “Hmph. I was about to ask you the same thing. This is bullshit.”

You come back with a handful of carefully selected clothes and strappy undergarments that you know for a fact flatter your shape. If he has to walk around in your skin the least he can do is make it look good. You pause halfway down the hall and swallow hard as it dawns on you that he’s going to have to get naked in order to change, which means he’s unavoidably going to be looking at your body without any barriers. You decide you’re going to be strong and you simply won’t think about it or acknowledge it as a possibility.

He’s busy chewing one of your nails when you reach the living room again. You hug the clothes close to your chest and storm across the room.

“Do you bite your nails?! Ew! God, no wonder yours are so jagged and gross,” you complain, thrusting the clothes into his lap.

He offers an apologetic look before glancing down at the attire you’ve supplied with raised eyebrows. He picks up the bra with one finger and grimaces at the way it dangles off his digit. He’s looking up at you with pleading eyes shortly after it falls back in his lap. It’s hard to avoid his gaze. You feel those pupils boring into your skull as you dart your eyes away to focus on the floor.

You clear your throat and muster every last bit of courage you possess. “Um… Your clothes, please?”

He inhales loudly through his nose and you watch the grey sweatpants pool around the toenails you just painted last night. You swallow hard and scramble to pick them up when they slide across the wooden floor to you. You clutch them to your chest, quickly catching the scent of your sweat and arousal on them. Maybe he hasn’t noticed? Trying to suppress the mortification growing in your chest, you purse your lips and trail your gaze back up to his face--your face. Thankfully the hoodie covers your sex and you’re hoping he hasn’t bothered taking a peek before coming here.

“Don’t… Don’t look,” you plead. So much for not acknowledging it.

He’s feeding his arm through one of the sleeves when he freezes in place and locks eyes with you. “I should tell you I woke up shirtless,” he mumbles. As if to lessen the blow of his admission, he continues with a pout, “But you can’t blame me for looking. It’s hard not to look at a pair of perfect tits that mysteriously appear in the middle of the night. What was I supposed to do?”

Perfect tits? You’d almost be flattered if it wasn’t so fucking morifying to know he’s already seen you. Your eyes screw shut and you nod. “Right.”

This is fine. This is absolutely fine.

“Hey,” he calls softly, prodding you to open your eyes. “Here.”

He keeps eye contact with you while feeding his other arm through the sleeve. Watching yourself strip without performing the act is bizarre. He holds the sweater out for you to slowly take. It eases your mind to see his gaze never wavered. Yours drops to the nude form before you and suddenly you’re criticizing every curve and flaw you can find. It’s as though you’re simply standing before a mirror and feeding your insecurity with needless scrutiny. Despite this, Yoongi remains focused on your face and the discomfort you display so openly at seeing your own form stripped bare. Almost bare. That beat-up baseball cap he wears every day now adorns your head like a crown for your mediocrity.

You spin on your heels and speedwalk down the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

It’s hard to ignore the new appendage you’ve acquired but you make sure to shut your eyes while peeling the shorts from your thighs and sliding the sweatpants up in their stead. While you rushed through the bottom half of your attire, you stop for a minute to inspect Yoongi’s bare pectorals. It’s all too easy to get lost in the sight of his body in the mirror. You subconsciously lick your lips and run your fingers across your flat, hard chest.

Your thumb circles a brown nipple and you watch with satisfaction as it grows hard at your touch. Your palms press down over your stomach, feeling the muscles hidden just below the surface of soft flesh. You grab at your hips, fingers threatening to dart below the band of your pants. Instead you suck air in through your nose and scold yourself for such weakness. You’re about to tug the sweater over your head when Yoongi silently enters and flops down on the bed face-first.

“Yoongi? Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!” you shriek in your haste to cover up your own moment of weakness.

There’s a muffled response spoken into the mattress that you can’t quite understand.

"What?" Annoyance is a front for your embarrassment.

He turns his head to one side and sighs. "There are too many straps. Why did you pick such a difficult one?"

You definitely selected something with a lot of extra straps for a reason but you bite your lip and try to come up with an excuse that seems plausible. The truth is that you wanted to pick something sexy because you wanted him to see you as such. Does he care though? It's hard to tell. You decide the best excuse is to dismiss the question altogether.

"Stop being such a baby. I'll help you."

As he lifts his head to cringe in your direction, you're already out the door. He pounds his forehead against the mattress again and squeezes his eyes shut. There's clearly no logical explanation for this, so what is the next step to take? What should the pair of you do? Is this permanent? There has to be a way to undo whatever has happened. In order to figure that out he's trying to piece together the source of this predicament. No matter how hard he wracks his brain for answers to the puzzle, there still seems to be pieces missing.

"Get up. Come on," you huff, tugging at his arm.

The sound he makes is pitiful and whiny as he rises. It's easy enough to see where his arms are supposed to go when you've already bunched all of the material together. You step behind him and fiddle with the fit around the familiar mounds of flesh at his front. He instinctively looks down to watch how his own familiar fingers slide beneath the bra. He pries his eyes away just as quickly to find he has a much better view of the pair of you in the mirror.

There's a sight he'd never thought he'd see: both of you shirtless with his hands in your bra. It's not that he's never wanted it. It's just that he always seems to fuck it up when it comes to being social, with you in particular. Maybe it's because he likes you too much. There's never been a proper opportunity to make a move outside of work and he knows his flirting skills are abysmal. But looking at the reflection of the pair of you now fills him with equal amounts of desire and confidence.

Just as you’re about to clasp the first strap behind his neck you glance up and find yourself lost in the same reflection. An electric blush creeps up your spine and causes a tingle in your cheeks that makes you freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He hums a soft sound and makes the decision to reach back for your wrist. For a moment you’re not sure if you’re moving or if he is but you find yourself enjoying the sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers dipping below the fabric of your bra.

“Yoongi?” you ask, jaw hanging slack as the bra slips a bit further down.

“Do you feel that?” The voice is quiet as he lets you trace fingers along the soft skin. “It pinches there.”

That pinch is a familiar one but you always tell yourself that’s the price of beauty. The straps chafe. The underwire digs into your ribs. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s the sexiest-looking thing you own so comfort be damned. You watch it slide further down to reveal one of your nipples in the reflection of the mirror; it’s impossible to look away. So much for him not looking anymore. You can’t blame him because it’s impossible for you to take your eyes off it too. The sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers trailing along the side of your breast sends a surge of excitement through your veins.

Goosebumps form a path where your fingers have traced and Yoongi exhales a shaky breath. The sound makes you chew on your bottom lip in contemplation. Is he feeling just as turned on right now? You try to remind yourself that the mirror is a lie. He’s not touching you. You’re touching him, regardless of how it looks. You can’t let your feelings cloud your judgement. It’s so fucking hard to think straight now that you’re together like this, not just because he’s here in your room but because he’s experiencing the unique arousal of his body while trapped in yours.

“Being a girl sucks. What am I supposed to do about it?” Your fingers tremble as you force your eyes to meet his in the mirror.

The action does not go unnoticed. He smirks and quirks a brow but chooses to let it slide without commenting. “Give me something easy and comfy.”

“But—” You hesitate. Do you really need to argue about this? You can’t explain it without admitting your feelings towards him. It seems like an inopportune time, more so than usual. It’s better if you can just shut the fuck up for two seconds and work on the important task at hand: figuring out how to get back to normal.

He immediately fills the gap with an objection of his own. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” you say in the flattest tone you can muster.

He turns around to get a better read on your body language but you’re already rummaging through your drawers. You toss a sports bra with a front-facing zipper at him while you don the sweater and slip into the bathroom to relieve yourself. It’s best to avoid situations like that again if you can.

Yoongi takes this moment to inspect the room, crinkling his nose at the several empty cans of Hot6 stacked on top of your dresser. He brings a long manicured nail to his teeth and begins working it back and forth as he slides the folding closet door open with a finger. Much to his surprise your wardrobe is filled with t-shirts that look much more comfortable than the piece you previously selected. He’s quick to trade shirts and carefully replaces the clothing on the hanger before sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back on his elbows. Comfy. Finally. His attention is drawn to the closed bathroom door. It’s been a while. Are you okay?

“You better not be passed out in there,” he whines, making sure to sound extra annoying for you.

The attempt to conceal the concern in his tone is successful but he’s happy you’re not able to see his worried expression. If you knew how badly he wants to freak out, you might actually start hyperventilating again. He’d like to avoid that. The door swings open and you exhale deeply. You’re not about to tell him you had to wait out the boner because then he’d probably make fun of you. He watches you take a few steps forward while wedging a nail between his teeth.

“Are you biting my fucking nails again?”

“Yup.”

You’re already scrambling across the bed and by the time he moves to shuffle backwards you have his wrists pinned against your soft comforter and you’re straddling his waist. Oh god. This is too fucking hot to be doing with him while he’s in your body. Abort. Abort!

It’s now that you note he’s wearing a soft cotton t-shirt you definitely did not pick out. “Yoongi, did you—”

“These clothes are better. Did you give me the most uncomfortable things you own just to make me suffer for stealing your muffin?”

Between the sports bra and the t-shirt he’s selected the curves of your body are lost to your eyes and your heart sinks. There goes any chance you had of him thinking your body is sexy. He’s expecting a tongue lashing but you sigh instead and release your hold on him, quickly climbing off his form before you can let your body get you into trouble. You search for the laptop that you know is hidden just beneath the covers near your pillows.

“Pfft. Look, maybe we can google what happened to us and not get Freaky Friday movie reviews. You wanna see if it works?”

He offers a half smirk in response and he’s quiet only for a second before he hums a sound of distaste. It’s an accusation and you know it. He quickly scoots back towards the pillows so he can sit beside you.

You scowl as you mistype your own password. “Ugh. What?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re so mad.”

“I’m not.”

You make sure to broadcast the fact that you’re definitely not mad by repeatedly tapping the delete key in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Why does your face look like that then?” he prods while folding his hands across his lap.

“Like what? You of all people should know that your face always looks this grumpy.”

As he rests his head against the fluffy material behind him, he lazily rolls his head towards you. “Y/N.”

You dramatically throw your head back against the pillows and mirror his stare. “Yoongi.”

“What is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble.

“It clearly does,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “We have to work together to figure this out, so some honesty might be nice.”

You open the laptop and stare at the password screen for a moment with a longing sigh. “Fine. I look gross in those,” you admit with a brief glance at his attire. “You’re making me look like an unsexy blob.”

He scoffs. “What? Is that all? You’re being ridiculous. These clothes don’t matter at all. We both know what you look like underneath them. Honestly, you could be wearing a trashbag and still be sexy.”

“To whom?” You want to laugh at how absurd his explanation sounds. “What kind of lunatic would think that?”

He blinks slowly and raises his eyebrows with a calculated clench of his jaw. “Me. For starters.”

He’s stiff as he purses his lips and crosses his arms. He stares at the login screen, waiting for you to type your password. “And any sane man or woman with a pair of eyes and a brain.”

Your mouth falls open in disbelief mid-stroke. Was that a confession? Your head might as well be full of helium with how high you’re feeling. This has to be a dream. If the insane concept of switching bodies with Yoongi isn’t enough to solidify it, those words sure are. You have to be dreaming.

Your eyes remain locked onto the fingers now resting against the keys. “Do you really think that?”

“Yes.” The response comes quicker than expected but instead of giving you time to ruminate on it, he nudges you with his elbow. “Password.”

Your shoulders lift with a deep inhale through your nose and drop back down with the subsequent forceful exhale through your lips. What are you supposed to do with that information? You feel your consciousness try to lift into the aether. If you could only make it float back into your own body, you might have the courage to say something, anything. With your mind drifting away, your fingers move of their own accord as they type in the password to your laptop.

"Whoa, what the fuck is that?"

The video you'd left open last night starts up with a preview that brings you back to reality, but not fast enough.

"D-Don't look! It's private!" you screech.

Heat pulses through the veins along the sides of your forehead. Precious seconds have already been wasted by the time you frantically scramble to close the tab. He's seen the keywords in the search bar and the nastiest bits of that particular video. You're fucking mortified.

“I mean that’s definitely a couple privates," he jokes with a laugh. "You seriously just leave your porn out like that?"

”Incognito mode, Yoongi," you sneer while pulling up a new tab. "I don’t need you or my FBI guy judging me.”

He snorts. “Oh come on, Y/N. The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences. And neither do I. Besides, you technically looked at it with my eyes already.”

He taps the side of your forehead gently as if you needed the reminder that you're not in your own skin and you swat him away. You quickly type the phrase “body swap” into the search bar and try to focus on the resulting web pages even though you’re distracted by the blood leaving your brain in favor of other body parts.

"Can you just… Shut up for one second?"

"Hey, I'm just saying..." He clicks his tongue thoughtfully as he scooches closer to you. "You’re into some good stuff. We might have more in common than I thought."

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the physical contact and send a tingling electricity down your abdomen. You clear your throat and reposition the computer over your lap as you feel yourself growing harder. You stare down at the two fingers settled on the trackpad rather than the information on screen. Try as you might to remain inconspicuous, suddenly all you can think about are those thick fingers rubbing hard circles against your clit while the two of you watch porn together. Bad thought. Baaaaaad. You attempt to pass the laptop over to him as discreetly as possible while shifting your pelvis away towards the edge of the bed.

“I’m…” You flounder for an excuse to leave the room and get these racing hormones under control. “...pee.”

“What?” There's a quizzical expression branded upon his features that toes the line of disgust.

“I have to pee,” you quickly correct while tactically holding your forearm over your lap. If there is such a thing as fate, why is it torturing you like this?

“Again?”

You push the laptop towards him once more and pray that he’ll just let you go be embarrassed alone in the bathroom for five minutes. Instead he looks down at the way your forearms cross your pelvis and exudes a deep, throaty laugh that sounds foreign in the tenor of your voice. That laughter travels through your head like it’s made of hot coals.

“Wow. Got a boner, huh?”

Your cheeks are made of fire. Literal fire. They feel like they should melt straight through your skin and torch your brain yet here you are: still alive and wishing you would burn to death. God is dead. There is no mercy in this universe.

"Don't fucking laugh at me! I can't control it!"

When he laughs harder, the urge to silence him overtakes all rational thought. You reach for a lock of hair sticking out from beneath his cap and pull hard. He hisses through his teeth and you smirk, knowing what kind of response this would normally elicit from your body. Will it affect him the same, or is the sexual response guided by mental preference rather than physical? Maybe it’s both. It seems to have some effect because he’s stopped laughing.

Yoongi shivers as goosebumps riddle his arms and prickle along his chest until his nipples are threatening to poke holes through the thin fabric of the bra and t-shirt. His jaw tightens and on instinct his hand shoots up to grasp at the short black hair adorning your head in retaliation. He catches himself before he pursues the motion of yanking down. What is he doing? Can he really be so bold with you? He knows you, but not like this. Things are strange right now but if he keeps going they're bound to get stranger. If the butterflies in his stomach weren't enough to tip him off to his attraction to you, even like this, the wetness between these thighs solidifies the magnetism you hold over him.

A pitiful sound escapes your lips that hints at your disappointment. “Mmm?"

He pauses there to inspect your expression, tilting his head as though it will give him a better read. He should be able to interpret his own expression but looking at his face through your eyes doesn't seem to help at all. Because he's studied your features for so long it's hard to see what you're feeling now that he can't see them at work. His palm flattens against your scalp and he allows his fingers to wander through the thick black hair he's combed out a million times. Somehow it feels softer in your hands. Soon he finds his hand cupping the back of your neck. Labored breaths swim in the space between the pair of you, but it's hard to tell who they belong to.

"What are you doing?" you whisper as your fingers reach for the brim of his cap.

"What are you doing?" he echoes back.

Have your eyes always looked so fierce, or is it his persona breathing a dark fire into them now? You flick the cap off his head, which releases all the hair he had trapped underneath it. You push it back from his face and tangle your fingers within it.

"Pretending like this isn't just you wanting to make out with yourself to see what it's like," you answer, staring at the reflection in his eyes. "You?"

There's a smirk that grows into a full blown grin within seconds. "Trying to convince myself that it isn't insane to want to make out with myself just to see what it's like."

You scoff and drop your hands to his shoulders to give him a firm push back. "Dick."

He giggles at the way you pout and halfheartedly pushes the laptop towards the other side of the bed. The hand still on the back of your neck travels up to massage your scalp and suddenly you're putty in his palm. His other hand trails along your stubbly jaw until his fingers are nestled behind your ear. As he glances down at the tent in your pants he laughs.

"Still hard?"

"Like your nipples," you grumble.

You reach out and twist the peaks barely hidden beneath his shirt; it's an impulse you don't refuse. This time he moans.

"Oh, you liked that, hmm? I bet you're so fucking wet right now," you whisper, embracing your boldness.

You watch his eyes roll with the flutter of his lashes at your words. Both of his hands glide through your hair and he begins to flex his fingers around some strands. He alternates between releasing his gentle grip on your locks and twisting his fingers back into them. You’re making him crazy. Should he even bother trying to compose himself at this point?

“What?” you prod, pushing the limits of his endurance for such brattiness. “Aren’t you going to pull my hair, Yoongi?”

The way he glares at you causes your skin to break out in a series of goosebumps. How can you be shivering when your body was just doing its best impression of molten rock? Yoongi. That’s the answer. You whimper a pathetic sound as his knuckles curl towards your scalp. The motion brings your forehead down to meet his and your eyelids flutter closed. He focuses heavy breaths out through his nose and stares at the lips he knows are his own. They may be part of his usual physical appearance but right now they’re a part of yours.

“You’re so fucking obnoxious.”

He sucks his bottom lip through his teeth and moves towards you before he can second guess what he's about to do. His lips seem to meld with yours and your eyes pop open to be sure this is really happening. Is this really happening? You see your own nose and heavy lidded eyes peeking open just enough to roll back in pleasure.

The hands buried in your hair drop to cradle your jaw and you can feel the stubble scraping against the delicate skin of his fingers as he drags his hands slowly towards your chin. You melt into his touch and hold your breath like you'll never inhale another again. Suddenly you're kissing him back and no amount of lightheadedness can stop you.

Oh shit. This is happening. It’s not anything like your daydreams but it’s real and it feels so fucking good. It feels surreal. It feels too surreal. Maybe the lightheadedness can stop you. It's you, but it's not. Your eyes open again and you find a battle of anxiety raging in your brain. He pauses to peck the edge of your mouth when he realizes you're no longer kissing him back.

"What are you doing?" he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. “Did I… read that wrong?”

“No! No, I’ve wanted to do that for a while. It’s just…” A laugh bubbles from your throat and you shake your head before bursting into a fit of giggles. “This is weird.”

Relief washes over his features and he smiles as he leans back to look at you. “It’s definitely unique. But I can’t say I want to stop.”

His admission fills you with a fresh wave of tingles up your spine. “Me neither. I… still want you.”

You sheepishly turn your head to the side and find the mirror lining the closet wall, looking at the image of the pair of you as if it will save you from the embarrassment of your own words.

"What? Now you're getting shy?" he teases while following you gaze to the reflection. It dawns on him that he can enjoy the view. "Or do you just want to watch?"

He moves towards your lips slowly while keeping focused on the mirror, watching your eyes lazily roll back behind your lids and revelling in the whine this pulls from you.

“Look,” he pleads in low whisper, angling your body so you can get a better view. “Look how good you look with your tongue on my neck.”

Your head lolls around just in time to see exactly that before the sensation snaps across your nerve endings. He latches on, sucking light bruises into the tender flesh. He knows where to put his tongue to have you gripping the back of his neck and arching your back up towards him. He smirks as he glances at the mirror, licking a hot stripe up to your ear where he teasingly nibbles on the lobe.

"Does it look as hot when I--when you...?" You flounder on your words in between soft pants, your eyes trained on the reflection.

He counters with a whisper, “Do you want to find out?”

“I’m… curious,” you admit, leaning your head back to give him access to more of your neck.

“You want to know how it feels,” he lazily mumbles against your neck. “Hmm. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s a unique opportunity,” you say, trying to convince yourself that proposing the idea isn’t weird at all. “Maybe we just… See?”

“Right. This is a unique opportunity,” he echoes in agreement, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled as he sighs a heated breath against your skin. “We should take advantage of it.”

“I mean, as long as you don’t tell anyone.”

He pops his head up to look at you, his brows knotted in confusion. “Who would believe me?”

You shake your head and smirk. “I guess you’re right.”

There’s a moment where the concept of time seems to evaporate. You both stare at each other like you’re seeing your own faces for the first time, like it’s the first time you both can actually love and accept yourselves as you are. It’s easier to be gentle with someone else, but now that someone else is technically also a part of you it brings a level of clemency to your feelings regarding your appearance. You like yourself better now that you can see a part of him there.

“Will you show me how you like it?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

“If you show me, too,” you say with a gentle rock of your hips towards him.

“You first.”

Your mouth is already covering the soft expanse of his neck, dragging your teeth with just enough pressure to tease the skin. He watches you work up and down through the mirror, feeling the arousal between his legs building. As you're kissing a path back towards his mouth he takes a chance and swings his leg over your midriff so he's kneeling just above the throbbing cock hidden beneath the thin layer of gray fabric. The jeans dig a hard line into his stomach and limit the range of his spread.

"These pants are horrible," he complains.

"Take them off if you hate them so much," you agree between hungry kisses. It's impossible to keep your eyes from the mirror. He hooks his fingers beneath your sweater and begins working it upwards, stopping only to rest a palm on your chest.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He trails his fingers down the flat expanse until he gets to your navel, passing over the dark hair leading down into your pants. He tugs at the place where the hair begins to grow thicker and laughs when you hiss an expletive.

He quickly pulls the oversized sweater upwards. Instead of helping you out of it, he clutches the fabric with both hands as you bring your arms above your head and presses you back into the mattress. You find your bent elbows trapped in the sleeves.

“How about this?” he whispers. “Do you like this?”

“Yes.” You look down at the delicious pectorals he’s exposed, practically salivating at the sight of those pert nipples. “Yoongi, please.”

He smirks as he runs his fingers down your chest, ignoring the nipples you wish he would do something about. Lower. Lower. His hand travels behind him until suddenly your body spasms with pleasure from the practiced grip he’s placed on the cock standing at attention behind him.

“This? Does it feel good when I touch you like this?”

“Fuck! Yes. Please. Yes!”

Just as quickly as his hand pressed against your clothed erection, it’s gone, leaving you a whimpering mess. He plants a kiss beside one of your nipples, but denies it any direct contact.

"Stop teasing me," you whine. The pressure in your chest builds with every second that passes and you feel like your heart is going to burst.

He lets out a lofty sigh as he sits back on his thighs, promptly removing his t-shirt. "But you make it so easy..."

You wiggle out of the arms of the sweater and sit up to unsnap the button to his jeans. You kiss up his stomach until he’s unzipping the bra and letting you nip at the supple flesh for a moment. He discards the bra like it’s nothing before rolling over to unzip his pants. He peels them from his legs along with the soaked panties. It’s hard to not look at the mirror as he climbs over your waist. If he holds any shame for being nude in front of you, it’s not apparent in his current form. Your face, however, feels hot. Your body is exposed and he keeps looking at it, groping those breasts with his hands.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, admiring the reflection as he plays with his nipples between his fingers.

You want to bury your face in something to hide your embarrassment so you plant your face between his tits and begin to suck bruises into the soft flesh beside his fingers.

“Oh fuck.” The sight of his own face diving between those squishy tits is enough to make his body involuntarily flex in ways he’s never experienced before.

“How does it feel?” you murmur, slowly licking a path to one of his nipples and lightly dragging your teeth along it.

The sound he makes when he moans has you shivering all over again. He lets his head fall back for a second and then he looks at you. “Like I want you to touch me.”

Now you’re the one who smirks with confidence. “Lay back.”

He snaps the band at your waist as he rolls off of you. “These. Off.”

Manicured fingers slip down to rub some of the tension from the swollen bud between his legs as he watches you awkwardly push the pants down past the cock begging to be touched. You try to avoid looking at it. It’s hard not to feel exposed even though it’s not your body. You scramble back into the bed as quickly as you can. His laughter catches you off guard.

“You’re so shy now. Look at it. Feel it,” he urges. “Grab my cock.”

You try to be casual about your downward glance but the way you lick your lips is anything but casual. You press your thumb into the base of the cock to admire its shape from a 90 degree angle. It’s average in terms of length but your mouth waters at the sight of the bulging veins and increased girth just below the swollen tip. You don’t bother to resist the urge to grip the shaft. You drag your hand up and trace your thumb around the fleshy mauve tip. The sensation causes you to shiver. It’s so sensitive.

As you’re admiring the way it tapers towards the base, soft, thinner fingers curl around yours and begin to guide them into a slow, controlled pumping motion that sets your nerves alight.

He quirks a brow at you. “What do you think?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you choke out with a held breath. Greedy gasps break the small silence that follows. Has it always been so hard to speak while masturbating? It’s not like you’re terrible at dirty talk so why are you hesitating?

“Do you need me to stop?”

You fervently shake your head and follow it with a needy groan. “No. Please… Keep going.” You hope he never stops.

“Then use your words” he urges, placing his hand over yours to slow your pace to a crawl.

You whimper. It’s a pathetic sound created with his voice in his throat, yet it still somehow sounds so deliciously like you. While he finds himself attracted to your usual body, it doesn’t bother him that you’re currently assuming a different form. Looks are fleeting anyway. It’s the person inside he’s grown attached to, the caring soul he feels connected to.

He’s seen you stare at the bulletin board near the restroom and tear off the tabs of creative community activities to benefit those in need. If he wasn’t so busy managing the store all the time he would have been able to sign up for those events too. He’s seen you volunteer at the homeless shelter just around the corner. He’s seen you cradling posters for your neighbor’s missing cat— he’d even let you keep one on the door to his store until you told him they found it.

The truth is that your soul is so beautiful and full that he’d want you no matter what you looked like. If only he had the courage to say that. But it's easier to hide behind snark.

“It feels so good,” you whine. “I wish I could put my mouth all over it. Bet you’d fill me so good.”

A growl escapes with his exhale and he guides your fist up and down the girth between your legs with increased vigor. He gently leads you by the dick, pulling you closer to the bed until your knees hit the side.

“Look in the mirror, Y/N. Watch,” he whispers in a low tone, almost begging you to keep your eyes on the reflection.

You do as he says and watch in awe as a set of manicured fingers tap against your chest and trail down to the cock still nestled in your fist. They work their way beneath your palm and shoo your hand away. Even knowing that Yoongi is behind the action, the sight of your hands stroking that perfect cock sets a fire of desire coursing through your veins.

You watch in the mirror as your lips plant kisses on the dark hair beneath Yoongi’s navel. You watch as your head sinks lower and lower until soft, plush lips are skimming the tip of his dick. You watch his length slide into your mouth and immediately your knees threaten to buckle.

His hands are already reaching up to stabilize your stance even as he glides his tongue against you. The pleasure is unlike anything you’ve felt before, but having your clit sucked and teased comes close. It’s heaven. You whimper a tortured sound sitting somewhere between the boundaries of pleasure and anguish. He plays your role so well, maybe even better than you could play it. You attempt to distract yourself from the nervous tremble of your thighs by gathering bits of his hair in your hands and balling it in your fists. He gargles out a muffled moan against you.

“I look so good sucking your pretty cock,” you whisper in awe.

He leans back to swipe his tongue over the slit and then sinks back down, nose hitting the tuft of dark hair at your pelvis as you bottom out in his throat. Your grip around his hair tightens with the slight rock of your hips. You press his face against your crotch like you never want him to leave. The pair of you look so fucking hot. You’re revelling in slow, shallow thrusts deep in his throat when he makes a gagging noise you know all too well. He grips your thighs and you immediately release your hold while pulling your hips back.

“Fuck I’m so sorry!” Heat rises in your face and you want to run and hide.

He rests his palm on your waist and catches his breath, a trail of sticky precum and thick spit connecting his mouth to your cock. It involuntarily flexes and bobs up towards your stomach and then back down, which severs the path of saliva.

“Don’t be. That was hot.” He wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

“Yoongi, you didn’t have to! I mean I was curious but I—”

You’re cut off by his harsh tug on your hands. You stumble forward and meet his dark gaze. How can he make your eyes look so hungry?

“I’m a firm believer in never asking someone to do what I wouldn’t. I like to know what I’m giving, don’t you?”

“God, I wish that were me. I want to taste you so bad,” you whine, licking your lips as you spare a glance down at the glistening appendage standing at attention between your legs. “Wanna taste you dripping off my tongue.”

“You can,” he assures you in a soft voice, cupping your face with his hands.

His lips are on yours in an instant and you’re moaning against them like you’ll never get enough. The salty tang on his tongue transfers to yours as it dips into your mouth. You wish you could take him into your mouth yourself, but this is a good substitute for now.

"You taste good," you pant between kisses. "Why haven't we done this sooner?"

He pulls away to shrug, cocking his head to the side and focusing on your neck. "If you want something you have to speak up. No one can read minds and even if they could, often times people are so wrapped up in their own heads they'd never see what you think.”

"Wow, getting philosophical on me, huh? So… What? I'm just supposed to say, ‘Hey yoongi you're hot. Wanna fuck’?"

"That's a little blunt don't you think?" He laughs, allowing you to push him back onto the mattress. "Been holding that back long?"

Your heart skips a beat, heat flushing your ears. "Maybe. Would it have made a difference?”

He ponders this for a moment as he squints at the ceiling in concentration. "Mmm. I'd say you should at least buy me dinner first… "

You scoff. It’s not a no but it’s not an enthusiastic yes either. You climb onto the mattress, trying to ignore how casually he lays in your bed, completely barren before you.

He rolls onto his side and props his head up to survey your approach. You seem a little nervous so it’s easier for him to fake confidence for both your sakes. "I guess we're both guilty of not saying what we mean."

"What is it you really mean to say then?" If he’s got a juicy secret he’s been holding in, then you want to know to salvage what’s left of your pride.

"I give you shit but I like that you come into the store every day to get your muffin and your gross energy drink. I like when you come back in after just to bitch about your day and pretend like you need a snack that I never see you eat. I like when you ask me about my day, even though you know I’m shit at conversation. It makes me happy because I care about…" he hesitates when he sees your smug grin. "...”

“Yes?” you prod.

He draws a deep breath from his belly. “You. I care about you. I’ve never found an opportunity to tell you that I like you. I’m always working, keeping my store afloat, focused on the numbers and the success of my business. But I see you coming out of that building every day. I watch for you to make sure even after a year of this that you’re still coming here first. It’s crazy but you put me at ease and make me anxious at the same time. I feel like I know you, like I’ve known you all my life.”

He pauses to allow you to interject. When you don’t, he continues, “I feel it in my bones when you smile at me, when you roll your eyes at me, when you try to make me laugh... You’re so easy to fall for. I know that I’m not, but sometimes you look at me and I feel like you want to. I want you to. I wish you would come back when I’m locking up for the night so that I could see you outside of work, so I could take you out, so I could take you home. A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say.”

“Yoongi…” you finally whisper.

Your face scrunches up like you’re about to cry and he grimaces at you, knowing you’re definitely about to do just that.

“Don’t do that. My cheeks look so fat when you do that. Hey, are you listening? Don’t make my face look so ugly!”

His attempts to make you smile simply causes the tears to fall from your eyes. You melt into his embrace, burying your face against his neck as you sob. He places a tentative palm on the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, planting a kiss against your hair, “if it’s just me.”

“No, I feel the same way,” you admit, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “You say you’re hard to love but how can that be true when I feel what I feel so easily? I will wait for you to close your shop and walk you home every day if you let me. I will be yours, if you let me.”

He turns your head so that he can bring his lips to yours. They taste salty again for entirely different reasons. Can you feel the way he’s trembling right now? All the relief in the world can’t assuage the ache of carrying such a burden in his chest for so long. The adrenaline is coursing through him like a wildfire, spreading until his lungs are burning with a heat he can’t quell.

“Mine, then,” he whispers, allowing the tears to stream down his cheeks freely. “Mine.”

He tangles his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a passionate kiss that threatens to steal every last bit of oxygen from your lungs. He growls into your mouth, claiming every inch inside with his tongue. He grinds his hips upwards and it’s then you remember that you’re naked and you have a dick that’s still half-hard and growing harder by the second.

You groan loudly. “Fuuuuuck. I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

He pulls back to bite his lip, the intrigue in his features apparent. “You want to try it?”

“I mean… you sucked your own dick for me. You don’t owe me anything—”

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I want to try it,” he says, wriggling his hips beneath you. “Fuck. Me.”

“This is still so weird,” you say with a giggle, your eyes rolling back into your skull when the tip of your cock glides against his clit. “Ah…”

The pair of you pause and slowly repeat the motion. You can feel how wet he is and instead of being embarrassed like you would be in his place, you find it incredibly hot.

“Do it again,” he pleads, spreading his legs further apart to allow you better access.

You look down, pressing your thumb into the base of your cock and carefully glide the tip across the folds between his legs. He hisses an expletive between his teeth when you drag it past his clit and begin rocking your hips back and forth.

“Yeah, just like that,” he whispers through frantic panting and sloppy kisses.

You feel a cramp in your thigh and pull back to nurse the ache. He whines when you slink away from his body, missing the friction on his clit already, although he’s satisfied enough when you circle one of his breasts with your tongue and take a nipple into your mouth. You press light circles into his clit with the pad of your middle finger until you can feel his legs flexing around your body like you’re not giving him enough. His fingers dive beneath yours to tease the swollen bud.

“Let me feel,” he pants. “Let me learn where to touch.”

You carefully guide his movements for a minute while treating his other nipple to the pleasures of your tongue. He seems to get the hang of stimulating himself pretty quickly so you turn your attention towards his thighs. You sink between them and begin kissing the sensitive skin beside his folds. His thighs twitch when you trace circles around his entrance with your tongue. You briefly pause to inspect your fingernails, making sure none of them are a jagged mess from the way he’s bitten them. When you’re satisfied with your inspection you peek up at him.

“You want to try my fingers first?” you ask, feeling envious that you can’t be riding three of them to the knuckle right now. “I can show you how my mouth feels too, though I doubt I’m an expert on that.”

“I don’t care about that.” He lifts his hand so he can peer down at you from between his tits. “I’ll take your mouth anywhere you want to give it.”

He watches as you flick your tongue across the sensitive, slick bundle of nerves. He bucks his hips as you clamp down and roll your tongue back and forth over it. His pretty painted nails look so good digging into your ebony hair. It’s not long until you dip a finger inside his cunt, teasing until you’re bobbing it in and out at a decent pace.

“Oh…” he says, as if he’s surprised that the experience is so pleasurable. “Shit, that’s good. Fuck. I’m gonna....”

You push another finger into him, curling the longest digit as far as you can to try and reach the g-spot you know is hiding nearby. When you finally get it he grips your shoulders and arches his pelvis off the ground like he’s committing to a new yoga routine. You recognize the stiffness in his limbs, the involuntary tremble of his thighs beside your head, the heaving of his chest and the frantic nonsense spilling out from his lips. You focus your energy on his clit, replacing your mouth with your hand since you have more confidence bringing about his climax this way.

His hips stutter and you know he’s riding the line. It’s a little bit more difficult to find that perfect rhythm when your hand isn’t in it’s normal position. The way he sucks in a breath to release his needy whines almost makes you feel guilty. It’s not like you’re trying to edge him but you’re not able to keep that pressure as consistent as you’d like.

“I’m so close,” he pants. “But I keep losing it. I’m sorry.”

You’ve been there plenty of times but you’re desperate to make him cum.

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Rub it, baby. You know what feels good,” you whisper, shifting your attention to fingering his cunt. You don’t call attention to the pet name, but it feels so natural falling from your lips in this moment. You hope he doesn’t mind.

In an instant his fingers replace yours on his clit and he’s building back up. His thighs quake and his back arches off the mattress one more time and you know it’s coming. He’s about to reach his peak.

He takes a sharp inhale and where you expect the loud wails you would normally make while riding out your high, there’s quiet shuddering and softy breathy moans that linger in the air around you. He grabs your wrist with an ironclad grip as soon as he rides the last wave and his sweaty thighs fall limp around your face. You’re grinning like an idiot as he pulls you by the hair towards his lips, desperate to feel you, to taste you. His tongue is exploring every bit it can, trying to steal the essence from your mouth.

“Mmm. I want to taste that sweet pussy every day.“

“Do you… Still want me to fuck you?” You’re really trying not to sound hopeful but you can’t stop thinking about it.

He smirks and wipes the sweat from his brow. “Let me feel how well my cock fills you.”

“Do I need a condom?” you ask. “Are you clean?”

He laughs like it’s an absurd question. “That’s up to you. I haven’t had sex in four years. I’m clean. If you’re not worried, I’m not worried.”

“Four years is a long time,” you mumble, suddenly feeling pressure perform well. “I have an IUD so if you’re okay with it…”

“I wanna know how it feels.”

As soon as you line yourself up with his entrance you’re sweating like you’ve never sweated in your entire life. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re hoping it doesn’t suck. It doesn’t take a genius to sense your nerves. He reaches out to cup your stubbly jaw.

“We don’t have to.”

“I want to. Just… tell me if I’m hurting you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his.

You let the tip dip inside and descend into his cunt slowly, knowing the thickest part of your dick follows the tip immediately. The stretch must be delicious. You’re distracted by how tightly his walls are clamping down on you. It’s tempting to bury yourself in his warmth as quickly as possible but you show restraint. His breath hitches as he adjusts to your girth and you freeze. Has your body ever taken someone as thick as him? You can’t recall. Probably not.

“Keep going,” he coaches, grabbing at your ass to press you further inside until you’ve bottomed out.

Your head hangs down as you try not to let the sensation overwhelm you. His lips find yours, helping you climb back down from the high. You slowly move your hips back, already missing the tight warmth hugging you. It takes a few more slow thrusts until you’re pumping into him at a relatively steady pace.

“Sorry if my rhythm isn’t good. I’ve never done this,” you manage to say between heavy breaths.

“You’re doing fine. This feels amazing. What are you talking about?”

He could be lying to make you feel better but it’s working. He puts his hands by his head to indicate he wants you to hold them. You immediately twine your fingers in his and press the back of his hands into the mattress.

“Yeah? It feels so fucking good, Yoongi.”

“It does... But I know you can fuck me harder than that, Y/N.”

You can already feel the tightness you’re holding back, a pleasurable pressure building in your pelvis that warns you of the imminent orgasm you can only stave off for so long. You can’t help but slam your hips in harder and faster at his request. The sound of balls slapping against skin fills the room and he moves his hips to meet yours. His breathing grows labored but you know he’s not about to cum again. You’ve never gotten off from penetration alone and there’s no way your sloppy performance will cause that miracle to happen now.

“There you go… Fuck. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna pull out,” you warn, feeling like you’re testing your own limits with every thrust.

“Already?” he teases, digging his pretty fingernails into your back.

“It feels… too fucking good, Yoon…” You wish you had more stamina. “Gonna cum on those pretty tits.”

“Yoon?” He chuckles, now distracted by the way his tits are bouncing with each slap of your hips.

“Just wait until I’m back in that body riding your cock. See how long you last then.”

“Is that a promise?” he questions, cupping your jaw to kiss you.

“...Yeah...”

He can feel the difference in your pace, in the shivers of your body. You’re about to cum. He turns your face towards the mirror so you can see how fucked out your reflection looks. It’s intoxicating seeing Yoongi’s body so needy and desperate.

“Look at you. You’re not gonna make it to these tits.”

“Fuck…” you bite your lip and try to slow your pace but it’s too late. The tension and pressure bursts from the head of your cock like a confetti popper on New Years. With a few, strong pumps you spill your seed into his warm cunt. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cummmph--”

Yoongi brings your lips back to meet his to muffle the unexpected sounds of your orgasm.

“Oh my goooood. You’re so loud,” he teases when you finally come down, but you’re too spent to refute him.

There’s another twitch in your dick and you lay there with your mouth open, trying to regain sense of your faculties. He intentionally clenches around your softening length and every muscle in your abdomen flexes.

“Too much!” you shriek, pulling out and rolling off of him in one swift motion.

You let your sweaty back hit the soft duvet, trying to recover from the sensation. He laughs, angling his legs towards the mirror. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he spreads his legs and swipes at the cum dripping from his cunt, pushing it back inside with his fingers and releasing a soft sigh. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen yourself do, and you’re not even doing it.

When he’s satisfied that he’s pushed it all in, he lays down next to you. The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence for at least a minute. Is it awkward or was it just that good? You can’t tell the difference right now and it’s making you anxious. He covers your hand with his and looks over at you with a warm smile.

The anxiety-driven words come out before you can stop them. “You should pee. You don’t want a UTI and neither do I.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

About an hour has passed in awkward silence as the two of you conduct research on what the fuck happened to you. You haven’t talked about what you both did in this bed, but the smell of sex still hangs in the air. As soon as you both put your clothes back on it was like a switch of modesty came back into play, and you feel too shy to point it out. You don’t know what to say, so you’ve just been clicking on every link you possibly can to fill the silence as he scrolls through articles on his phone nearby. It’s uncomfortable and you hate it.

“I think I have something, maybe,” you say, scrolling through the 90s looking website you’ve been exploring for the last few minutes.

Yoongi scoots closer to you and furrows his brow as he squints to read the sloppy banner at the top of the page. “The Unsolved?”

“I know what you’re thinking. Conspiracy theorists are insane, I know, but—”

You reach for the trackpad at the same time and your fingers brush, causing you to freeze mid-sentence. You stare at the keyboard for a second and chew on your lip, allowing your eyes to dart towards your periphery without moving your head. When he doesn’t say anything you clear your throat and scroll with the trackpad.

“But, look.” You point to the two embedded images triumphantly.

“Necklaces.” He cocks his head to the side and reads the text underneath aloud. “‘An Amulet of Discord is used by an Agent of Chaos to spread mischief and debauchery in the universe. It can be split into two halves to displace unsuspecting victims from their bodies. A glamour will protect the Amulet once the ritual is complete, making it impossible to see or touch. In order to reunite the victim with their body, the Agent responsible must be compelled to remove the glamour and mend the fragmented pieces into one.’”

“Last night I had one of those chincy friendship necklaces on and I definitely did not put it on. It looked a lot like the ones that weird guy tried to give us at your shop yesterday. I tried to get it off but it wouldn’t budge. Then it disappeared.”

“This sounds insane,” he muses, mulling over the information.

“Did it happen to you too?”

“I thought I saw one briefly, but… It was gone when I looked again. I thought I must be seeing things.”

“It’s gotta be it!”

Yoongi furrows his brows as you scroll back up to the navigation, not sure if he fully believes in this explanation. “What’s an Agent of Chaos anyway?”

“I guess they like… cause mayhem for fun? I don’t know, the description said something about pleasing a patron that they get their powers from.”

“Like a god?”

The thought makes him uneasy. If a god of chaos exists then surely there are more out there. If gods exist but they do nothing to balance out the cosmic injustices of the universe, are they really gods or more like demons? He feels like he’s about to have a full meltdown over something he can’t understand or control.

“Maybe. It doesn’t describe them at all. But…” You give him a reassuring smirk. “It does give instructions on how to trap an Agent. We just need a little more space and some chalk. We’ll draw him out, trap him, then make him undo his magic. What do we have to lose?”

His heart feels lighter when you look at him so softly. “Makes it sound simple when you say it like that. Also, slightly insane.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The website was very lax on defining the ‘discordant energy’ needed to summon the agent, so the pair of you have been improvising. Yoongi suggested moving into the store for the space you needed, but you have a feeling he’s just anxious about it being closed for the day. It’s fine. You don’t want to constantly be thinking about the sex neither of you are acknowledging right now. Yoongi is brushing his teeth after drinking a bottle of orange juice.

You grimace at him. “You really think that’s gonna do it?”

He stops mid-brush, his mouth full of foam and garbling his words. “It’s better than doing nothing. How are you helping?”

You give the sunglasses rack a slow spin. “I drew the sigil on the floor. If we’re gonna trap him we need to be ready. Were you able to find anything else?”

He clicks on your laptop a few times before hurrying into the back room. He reappears a moment later, wiping at his mouth. “That was gross.”

You watch him concentrate on the screen, trying to forget the way it felt to kiss him everywhere he would let you. It’s hard to focus on the task at hand when there’s this feeling lingering in your uneasy stomach. Are you doomed to never speak of the things that made your heart flutter?

“ A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say .”

You tell yourself you imagined those words, that you wished them into existence. You turn the rack of cheap sunglasses again. Even if you knew what you were looking for, you wouldn’t find it with the way your mind is wandering. You look back at Yoongi, debating whether or not you should speak up about the uncertainty in your gut.

“Keepsake!” he says excitedly, running out from behind the counter. “It says they often leave something behind so they can return to observe their work.”

His sudden movement makes you jump and loudly smack your hand against the stand in a panicked attempt to look inconspicuous. He pauses to look at you and raises an eyebrow but you’re already laser-focused on the rack again. Desperate to hide your growing embarrassment you pluck a pair of sunglasses that is strikingly similar to the ones you’d seen the man wearing that day.

As soon as you put them on you inhale sharply. “What the fuck?”

“Hmm?” Yoongi wonders. “What is it?”

“There’s something written… on the fridge.”

“What? Where?”

You lift the glasses up to be sure you can’t see the letters scrawled on the glass without them. The message disappears. Once you place them back on the bridge of your nose they practically glow, beckoning you towards them. You push past him on your way to the drinks section. “Here. It says… Now you have… specs appeal?”

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? It was a solid pun.”

The pair of you look towards the sound of the stranger’s voice. Instead of forming words you exclaim a sound of surprise. He looks confused.

“You’re going to need to speak clearly. I’m not sure I understand your language.”

“You! You did this!” you shriek, taking a step forward.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the man says with a puff of his cheeks. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “It’s not nice to accuse people of things. Have I done anything? Are you sure you’re not dreaming?”

A haze of golden dust spreads across the room like twinkling stars. As you blink and rub at your eyes you yawn and feel a sudden urge to lay down.

“Mmm. I am sleepy…” you admit as you sink to your knees.

Yoongi looks down at you like you’ve grown two heads. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

You laugh and lazily grapple with his leg. “Come lay down. Please? It’s made out of feathers.”

Yoongi watches you close your eyes. Suddenly your body falls limp at his feet. He crouches down to cradle your face in his hands, your name an urgent plea on his lips. “Y/N. Y/N wake up.” He pinches your cheek but you don’t respond.

“She wants this to be a dream. Don’t you?” The man takes a few casual steps forward.

“No, I don’t,” Yoongi growls. The threat sounds odd coming from this body, tone too meek to pass for intimidating. He glares at the man after reluctantly tearing his eyes from your sleeping form. It may be his body on the floor there, but you’re trapped inside it. “Wake her up.”

“She’s tired!”

Yoongi rises to his feet and shields your unconscious form as the man creeps closer. “Don’t take another step. You’re going to regret it.”

“Threatening me? Hah… You’re pretty bold, considering you’re not really in a bargaining position. Spunky! I’ll give you that. Say, I’m curious. What do you think I am anyway? I’ve got a bet going and I know I’m gonna win because I’m right, but I need proof. So if you wouldn’t mind speaking into this...”

Out of his pocket comes a microphone. He holds it out like he’s giving the most intense interview of his life as he awaits Yoongi’s response.

“You’re… Some kind of trickster.”

The man sucks his teeth and shoves the microphone back in his pocket. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind. So much for my bet… Come on. Don’t you think I look more like a god?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you work for one,” Yoongi muses, “but you sure aren’t one.”

“Wooooow….” The man sighs in disbelief. “The disrespect! At least you’re honest. I can appreciate that. I— ”

The stranger’s body seizes up as he takes another step forward. ”Ow!” His body convulses for a second before he regains his faculties. He looks down to find the sigil scrawled in chalk around his feet. Try as he might to scrape the markings off with his heel, his shoes are unable to scuff the powder. He furrows his brows and throws his hands in the air.

“Really? Are you kidding me? An integrity prison? Where did you learn this?”

Holy fucking shit. It worked, Yoongi thinks. He’s never been more relieved in his life.

“Wake her up,” he repeats calmly.

“I was gonna,” the man pouts, slumping into a cross-legged sit. “But now I really don’t want to. Would it kill you to have manners? Look at this. You’ve put me in a difficult little pickle here.” He reaches behind his back and pulls out a jar full of dill pickles. He fishes one out and takes a loud, crunchy bite. “I was just having a little fun and now I’m stuck here, doomed to this ugly little space.”

Yoongi crosses his arms, quickly losing patience. “Stop being dramatic.”

The man glowers at him and crunches on the last bit of the pickle with slow, loud chewing.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh. “Please, stop being dramatic.”

With a surprised nod, the man gulps down the pickle and hops to his feet. “Well, you said please, at least. Was that really such a big... dill?”

Right as Yoongi groans, the man snaps his fingers and flexes his pointers into finger-guns. You immediately yawn and sit up.

“What happened?” you mumble.

Yoongi offers you a hand and you take it, rising to unsteady feet. He wraps a hand around your waist to support your weight. “You took a nap but you didn’t miss much. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you murmur, the haze lifting from your sleepy eyelids. You gasp as your eyes focus on the man trapped between the center aisles. “Huh! We got him!”

“Yeah, yeah. Time to celebrate. You trapped me. Good job.” The sarcasm in his tone is evident, accompanied by a roll of his eyes. Confetti falls from above your heads, showering the pair of you in glitter and shiny streamers with the flick of his wrist. “Now let me out.”

You’re blown away by the bizarre moment, springing forward and out of Yoongi’s grasp. “Magic? Then, are you really… a god?”

The man pats his pockets frantically. “Finally! Someone with a sense for my greatness! Ugh! I should have been recording. Damn! Where’s my microphone?”

“Gods don’t get trapped with chalk,” Yoongi says, folding his arms and tapping his toe impatiently. “This guy is an underling. Hey! Don’t get too close!”

Your mouth hangs agape in awe as you approach the man. Scrutiny must be new for him because he seems stunned. That wide-eyed expression is erased quickly enough when he strikes a heroic pose, planting his hands on his hips and puffing his chest out. His pecs and shoulders seem to inflate when he inhales, causing them to swell into well-defined muscles.

“Oh.” You blink a few times, entranced by the sudden transformation. You reach your hand out as if to touch the meaty bicep practically bulging from his sleeve. “Who… What... are you, really?”

“Y/N!” Yoongi’s hands enclose around your waist, pulling you back into him just as your hand is about to break the barrier.

The man’s muscles deflate with his held breath as he bursts into a fit of squeaky laughter. “Oh! I almost had you!” He wheezes a squeaky sound through his inhale that you can only guess is laughter. He clears his throat. “My name is Jin. Matchmaker…” He holds up two matches in his hands and sets them alight with a flick of his wrist.

“Lover...” He winks and the matches disappear. In their stead are two roses. He tosses them at the two of you but when you go to catch yours it disintegrates.

Yoongi catches the disappointment on your face and thrusts the flower towards you, hoping it will restore the shine to your eyes. You give him a big, cheesy smile as you dust glitter from his hair.

“Ah… And! Balancing agent…” He stands on one foot as a seesaw appears to lift him into the air. He jumps down triumphantly with a bow. “At your service.”

You clap enthusiastically until you look over at Yoongi, who looks less than amused. You then nudge him with your elbow until he gives a solitary clap.

“What’s a balancing agent?” Yoongi asks dryly.

“We restore balance to the world. Things that are too uniform need a little chaos. Things that are too chaotic need to be put back into line. In our down time we like to have fun in our own ways. Me? I like to set people up.”

“So you’re not an Agent of Chaos?” you ask, disappointed that the conspiracy theorist page that led you to this point isn’t exactly the fountain of knowledge you had hoped for. There’s so much you don’t know.

Jin looks at you, clearly confused. “I mean some people call me Cupid, but I guess you can call me that. Has a nice ring to it. My powers are more inclined for chaos.”

“Cupid?”

“What? I’m a romantic. I can see the strings of fate! Also I may have a penchant for mischief, but that’s neither here—” He points at his feet. “Nor there!” He points at the shelf beside you which causes a bag of chips to burst, sending its contents everywhere.

“Hey!” Yoongi yells. “Are you going to pay for those?”

“Yoongi…”

“What?”

You can tell he’s irritated but clearly this guy can do a lot more than pop a bag of chips from across the room. You don’t want to fall on the bad side of his magic but you don’t exactly trust Yoongi’s mouth to keep you in Jin’s good graces.

“Stop being rude,” you whisper through clenched teeth.

He scoffs and answers you in a hushed tone. “How am I rude? He’s making a mess!”

“Then we’ll ask him to unmake it.” Your irritation heightens the volume of your voice to the point where it’s barely a whisper anymore.

“He’s playing with us. I’m through asking.”

“Yoongi.”

“Y/N.”

Jin laughs. “See, this is what I mean. Fate is practically screaming for me to help you. Chaos is just an added bonus for this boring town.”

You both look at him and ask in unison, “What?”

He points to the both of you. “Look.”

As you turn back to face Yoongi you’re shocked to see a pale blue orb glowing above his head. “Huh? What’s that?” You reach out to touch it but your hand passes through it without any change.

“You have one too,” he mumbles, squinting at the way a thin line seems to stem from it. Then he sees another. And another. It looks like a shiny, glittering web that splinters into a thousand different directions. His brows furrow as he inspects the tiny threads. “Do you see them?”

Your gaze follows his pointer and suddenly you can see the branching strands too, not just yours, but his as well. It’s beautiful. It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying. Seeing the trepidation written on your face he silently beckons your attention to his finger, which is pointing to a thread that is golden instead of a pale blue hue. It’s the only one of its kind in the intricate glittering lattice between the two of you. You follow his pointer as it traces the path that stems from your orb until it gets closer to his and then you take over, finishing the path with your finger to the point where his orb engulfs the line.

“What is it?” you wonder aloud.

“A string of fate,” Jin answers with a wistful sigh. “It’s always exciting to see one, isn’t it? It means you’re soulmates.”

“Hah. Bullshit,” Yoongi responds, waving the air with his hands as if to disrupt the strings. They remain intact. “You just like causing mischief.”

Jin puffs his cheeks and scowls. “I can lie about a lot of things, but the strings aren’t one of them,” he huffs. “Why would I need to do that? What’s more unpredictable than true love slapping you in the face?”

He makes a motion with his fingers and sweeps them towards Yoongi.The compulsion rises and you’re powerless to stop it. Your hand moves of its own accord and lightly slaps Yoongi across the face. He looks betrayed as he rubs his cheek.

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t me!”

The tingle in your arm causes it to move back towards him in a gentle swoop. Your wrist is limp as it smacks into his chin and rubs back and forth as if to comfort him. Jin bursts into a fit of laughter as he breaks the compulsion.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh, stomping up towards the circle around the stranger. “Just change us back and you can go on causing problems elsewhere.”

“I can’t,” Jin answers simply, crossing his arms. “The charm will break only under specific conditions.”

“And those are?”

Jin shrugs with his bottom lip protruding as he frowns. “It’s different for everyone.”

“Of course it is.” Yoongi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, pacing back towards you.

“There are some things you can try. Staples of the trade.” Jin notes some dirt beneath his fingernails and begins cleaning them. “Number one. Have you tried talking about your feelings?”

Yoongi’s gaze settles on yours and it’s like you can feel your heart stop. Say something. You open your mouth to speak but the words won’t come so you snap your jaw shut and stare at the glitter on the floor.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yoongi says as he folds his arms across his chest, trying to not get distracted by the breasts he inadvertently touches. He decides to drop his hands to his hips instead.

Jin rolls his eyes. “Okaaaay... Number two is filling the chaos meter. Go crazy. Do the unexpected.”

“I don’t know what we’d do,” Yoongi admits, pacing around the circle.

“What if we kissed?” The voice is soft and sweet.

He turns to face you, a combination platter of surprise and confusion. “But we did.”

“Reeeeally?”

Jin’s laughter makes him feel like a fool. He was convinced you said it, despite knowing your voice is not your own right now. How stupid could he be, walking right into that? He squeezes his eyes shut a moment and then focuses his attention on the captive.

While Yoongi is distracted you’re working a pack of mentos out of their packaging. You kneel down and twist the cap off one of the liters of cola placed on the endcap you. The hiss of the carbonation makes Yoongi shift attention.

Your name on his lips is half a warning, half a question loaded with uncertainty. You open another bottle beside it before he can get close enough and drop mentos into each. The liquid erupts into two fizzy fountains that reach the ceiling and spill back down to the floor. Yoongi takes off his hat and grips his hair like he wants to tear it out.

“What are you doing?”

“Filling the meter?” you answer meekly with a shug, stepping back from the puddle on the floor.

Jin roars with laughter. “Oh man. There is no meter, but that was delightful.”

Yoongi grumbles and goes back to the counter, grabbing the laptop and sinking down behind it to hide from the pandemonium of this situation.

“You’re the worst,” you mutter as you pass Jin. You quickly sit next to Yoongi on the floor.

“It was a joke!” Jin calls. “Come on, don’t leave me alone here.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as his fingers rapidly tap the keys. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know.”

“What are you looking for?” you whisper.

Yoongi listens for a minute to the grumbling of the man trapped in the circle nearby. “How to trick a trickster. I have a feeling we need him to undo it but he won’t come out and say it.”

You sigh and press your chin against his shoulder. “I’m tired.”

He looks over and tips his head down to nuzzle his cheek against you. “I know.”

“Huh?” Your vision diverts to a shiny blue can beside him. “Are you serious?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” He picks it up and quickly downs the last sip, the Hot6 Logo shining back at you in mockery. “I found it earlier and needed a pick-me-up.”

“Did you find more?”

“Nope. Just the one.”

“But…” you pout. “I wanted it.”

He holds the empty can out to you. “It’s grown on me.”

“I’m about to die without the sweet taste,” you whine, shaking the can to make sure there’s nothing left.

“You’re so obnoxious.”

He rolls his eyes and cups your jaw, leaning in to press his lips against yours. You don’t protest when he dips his tongue past your lips to rub against yours. You can taste remnants of the drink on his tongue. If Hot6 wasn’t your favorite drink before this, it is now.

“Better?”

“Maybe. Still not sweet enough.” You giggle.

He takes the opportunity to kiss you again, crushing your mouth against his in a deeper kiss. You’re practically melting into him as his tongue glides against yours, moving in a rhythm that you now crave. It’s so easy to forget everything else, where you are, what’s happened to you. He moves to straddle your lap, grinding down intentionally as he grips the back of your neck. He knows you’re half-hard already and fuck if he doesn’t just want to have you again. You’re the only thing that feels real right now.

He pulls down the zipper of the hoodie you’ve given him to allow access to his neck. It’s not until he allows you to latch onto the sensitive flesh there, with his hands buried in your hair, that he notices the security mirror. You’re so hot. He wants to be in you so badly but he’ll settle for you being in him right now.

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

Suddenly he notices the other person in the mirror. Jin is sitting cross-legged on the floor in his invisible prison, resting his chin on a hand as he stares back through the reflection with eyebrows raised. Yoongi quickly clears his throat and climbs off of you. You blink in confusion at the disruption until he points at the mirror and then you cast your gaze at the floor.

“We should take care of this.” He runs his fingers through his hair to compose himself before placing the cap back on his head and focusing his attention back on the computer.

“Wow, you almost went there with me watching. That would have done it for sure,” Jin says, breaking into a grin.

“Come on!” you shriek, popping up from behind the counter. “Please, just change us back.”

“I told you. I can’t,” he repeats firmly. “I actually don’t lie as often as you seem to think I do. Maybe you should try having sex. They say the soul leaves your body for an instant when you reach the finish line, you know. It can’t hurt. Ohhhh wait a minute...”

He jumps to his feet after watching the guilt flash across your face. Your eyes seem to dart around him, but never land close enough to his. Blood rushes through your ears, drowning out all the sounds that aren’t your heartbeat.

He smiles wickedly. “Oh my god, you already did. I mean, I get it. Who wouldn’t be curious? It’s only human to wonder. Oh, to be human… Seriously, have you tried talking about your feelings?”

You turn towards Yoongi and crouch back on the floor, disappearing from Jin’s view. He steps on his tiptoes to try and see around the counter before settling back on the security mirror. You can’t help but focus on his nosiness.

“Yoongi. I... Look. Can we go in the back? I need to talk to you. Privately.”

Jin clicks his tongue and sighs as the pair of you cross the store and slip into the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’ You breathe a sigh of relief when Yoongi locks the heavy door behind you. He bites at his nails--your nails as he waits for you to say whatever you need to. You take his hands into yours.

“Things are weird right now and not just because of this,” you hold up his hands in yours. “Are you regretting everything now?”

He smirks and gives you a small laugh. He slinks away to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t regret anything. I mean what I said. I care about you. I just… I get embarrassed, I guess.”

He’s embarrassed? You didn’t think he was capable with how blunt he normally is. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m insecure. Sexy, right?”

Time seems to slow as he draws near. There’s a lighthearted laugh on his lips before they meet yours. It feels like the first time all over again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you throw your arms around his neck, desperate to get closer even though you’re already pressed up against each other. You lean into him as you gasp in his hot breaths between kisses. To counteract the weight you’ve pressed against him, he pushes you backwards. Your arms fly back to catch yourself as you stumble but you knock into a freestanding shelving unit. Cans of soup clatter to the floor and roll off in various directions as Yoongi steadies the rack to keep it from falling.

He sighs, dropping his forehead to your shoulder in defeat. “We should focus.”

You whimper and will yourself to move the pair of you away from the wire rack. You run your fingers through your hair and attempt to compose yourself. Everything feels like a dream. It’s hard to think with him consuming the majority of your thoughts. You clear your throat, hoping your mind will also clear with the action.

“Hey,” he says, fingers on the latch. He pauses to lock eyes with you. “It might have seemed like the heat of the moment, but I really mean what I said. So tell me you’ll stick around after this is done?”

You run up and lace your fingers in his free hand before giving it a firm squeeze. “Promise.”

As he opens the door Jin jumps like you’ve startled him with your presence. “Whoa, I thought maybe you’d murdered one another. I heard a loud bang.” His gaze drops to your entwined hands. “What? Did you finally embrace destiny?”

“Destiny. No destiny. It doesn’t matter,” Yoongi says calmly as he squeezes your hand. “This could all be a dream. But we’re here now. We care about each other in this moment. That’s real. That matters.”

Jin does a slow clap while grinning from ear-to-ear. “Wow! It usually takes people a few days, maybe a week!” He looks at his wrist as though he’s wearing an invisible watch. “It’s been, what, a day? You did good.”

“Does that mean you’re going to help us now?” You perk up immediately.

“I mean I think you’ve helped yourselves. You look happy. You’re comfortable, right? Can’t you just let me go and keep existing like this?”

When he’s met with silence he sighs. “Ahh, well there is one more thing you can do, I guess. Have you tried checking your pockets?”

His suggestion is met with eyerolls from the both of you. While nonsensical, the unexpected has become a staple of your current state of existence and you feel you owe it to yourself to at least entertain the possibility. Your fingers slip into your pocket and explore the ridges of the hard object nestled against the fabric. Excitement courses through you as you pull your half of the locket from the confines of your sweatpants. Dumbfounded, Yoongi sticks a finger into his tight jeans and fishes the other half of the necklace out of his pocket.

“Hah, I can’t believe you didn’t even look,” Jin says with a laugh. “Now put them on, place the pieces together and say ‘Me Hoy Nimoy.’”

You exchange a skeptical look with Yoongi but you both comply and blurt the phrase soon after linking the pieces of the necklace together. You hold your breath, waiting for something spectacular to happen but disappointment soon floods your lungs. Just as you’re about to speak up, Jin clicks his tongue.

“Ah, close your eyes. It won’t work if you’re watching.”

Yoongi grumbles. “You’re fucking with us.”

“Hey, some magic is shy. Follow the rules. Do you think I’m just making this all up?” he pouts.

Your answer comes in unison with Yoongi’s: “Yes.”

Jin looks hurt as he clutches a hand over his heart and staggers backwards. “Woooooow. Well, just do one more thing then. ”

A devilish grin soon replaces the expression and his squeaky laughter fills up the store. He points at the pair of you with both fingers and wags his fingers in circles. You feel compelled to turn in place. Yoongi matches the uneasiness in your gut with the panic in his eyes. You both spin in circles away from one another. Once. Twice. Three times. Just as you’re about to complain about the nausea churning fresh waves in your belly, Jin waves his hands inwards.

You’re lifted into the air. The toes of your sneakers leave behind squeaky skidmarks of rubber on the tile as the pair of you are dragged forward. Jin cocks his head to one side and examines you with an expression of stone. For a split second you’re terrified but then he breaks into a grin and snaps his fingers. His thumbs and index fingers form the shape of a heart as he holds them out and you drop to the floor.

Yoongi reaches out for your shoulder. There’s a soft tremble to his fingers as he pulls you close to him. When you look upon his visage you can already see his jaw transforming, a thin stubble growing in along its perimeter. Every time you close your eyes to blink more of his face has morphed back into his own. You look down at your own fingers and watch as the nails narrow and elongate. A glossy pink hue returns to them but the polish looks slightly less finished with the way Yoongi has gnawed on the edges all day.

Suddenly Yoongi is frantically scrambling to his feet, kicking off his shoes and working the zipper down on his jeans. Everything is quickly growing far too tight. The hoodie you’d given him just barely covers his crotch as he stands up straight. He looks over at you with a relieved sigh and cups your jaw.

“You good?” he asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb across your chin. It takes all of your self-control to keep from licking it as it grazes your lip.

You nod, eyes falling to the necklace dangling over his sweatshirt. As soon as you reach out to yank it off, the trinket disappears in a puff of purple smoke with a clap of Jin’s hands. He holds them in place like a silent prayer just below his chin, a strained smile staining his face just above his fingers.

“So, here’s the thing. I’m gonna need you to hold up your end of the deal.”

“Fix my store first. Clean up this mess you’ve caused,” Yoongi says while taking a step in front of you.

Jin’s bottom lip protrudes into a pout as he eyes the puddle of cola on the floor. “I didn’t do that,” he complains under his breath.

It’s incredible how close he came to freedom, incredible and frustrating. His magic may not be able to touch or alter the circle, but you almost freed him with your ignorance. If the liquid had run close enough to seep into the chalk, he would be somewhere far more sunny and beachy right now. He’s earned a vacation for this milestone of success.

“Fiiiine,” he concedes.

With a snap of his fingers the store is spotless once more. While Yoongi inspects the area of the tile floor previously coated in cola and glitter, you glide your foot over the circle of chalk and break the seal that binds Jin to his current location.

“Finally…” he sighs, side-stepping out from the invisible barrier. “You’re welcome, by the way. Invite me to the wedding, okay? Don’t forget the little people who helped you on the way. As for me... I’ve got a date with the pearly beaches of Accord.”

He swirls his wrist in the air and the pair of ugly red mirrored sunglasses appear on his nose just in time for him to adjust them. He lowers the specs to give you a wink before snapping his fingers. Before you can even call out for him to wait, he’s gone in a puff of purple smoke that quickly dissipates. You’re left in stunned silence to contemplate your existence.

What are you supposed to make of everything?

As you stand there on the cusp of a mental breakdown, soft, velvety petals brush against your cheek to steal your attention. The scent of the flower overtakes your senses as Yoongi uses it to tickle your nose. You find him smiling back at you, almost like he’s too shy to speak, but then he does.

“Weird day huh? Can I have my pants back?”

You hum thoughtfully, making sure the shutters of the shop are still shielding you both from the outside world. “Would you mind if I wanted to get back in them later?”

He snorts, holding back a laugh. “Been waiting to use that all day?”

“No, I just thought of it right now. Aren’t I impressive?” you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him. You shimmy out of the sweatpants and leave them pooled on the floor, doing your best to walk past him with grace and seduction.

“So impressive.”

He offers an amused laugh when you bend over to pick up the garments he was so quick to discard when his transformation reverted. You spare a glance behind you to see if he’s looking at the way you so blatantly flaunt your ass. He’s in the middle of dragging his bottom lip through his teeth when your eyes steal his attention.

“Something wrong?” A wicked grin belies your innocent tone.

He exhales a long breath and shakes his head, turning his attention to pulling his pants up. “Impressive isn’t the word. You’re obnoxious.”

“Isn’t that your way of saying you wanna make out?”

He’s quiet as he takes off the remainder of your clothes to reveal a muscular chest riddled with goosebumps. It’s hard to hide how your grin spreads wider as he approaches with them in hand. You’ve had dreams like this: he’s shirtless, asking you to take off your clothes so he can fuck you in his store. Right here with your tits against the cold glass of the fridge. It would be a dirty secret only the two of you would know and you’d think about it every time you’d come in for your energy drink.

You slowly lift the hoodie from your own body, trying to appear as alluring as possible. You make sure to arch your back as your breasts briefly catch in the fabric and then drop against your ribs, completely exposed to the chilly air. Much to your dismay he’s quick to spin away from you and mutters a “thanks” instead of naughtier offers.

He’s aware you might mistake it for rejection, but he’s hoping you don’t see the way his fingers tremble. It’s incredible how scared he feels being back in his own skin. The intimacy of your connection left a void behind that’s quickly filling with disquiet. He feels incomplete without a piece of you with him, lost in the vast emptiness of himself. How can he feel such need for you? His chest aches with the possibility that he won’t ever feel whole again. The bravery that possessed him while piloting your body has waned. Now that normalcy is somewhat restored, he has the chance to start processing the events of the day. A part of him begins to embrace the panic he’d previously pushed down and his confession replays in his mind as though he’s just spoken it.

It was a bold move, especially given the situation. It could have ended horribly. He puffs out his cheeks and holds his breath, trying to remind himself that it didn’t. It’s okay to let go of the anxiety over it, but he still feels so uncertain. Even turned away from you and fully clothed, he’s never felt more exposed and vulnerable. He tries to hide the burning of his ears by running his fingers through his hair and shielding them with his arms. He has to bring himself back or else you’ll be talking him down from a panic attack and he doesn’t want you to see him like that.

Stupid. Stop throwing yourself at him. You struggle to put on the tight clothing as quickly as possible. Tears threaten to fall as you awkwardly wiggle your jeans back and forth up your thighs and over the swell of your ass. You make sure to swipe at the corners of your eyes before clearing your throat to signify you’re fully changed. He spins to face you but everything he means to say gets lost on the way to his mouth. He freezes, overwhelmed by how beautiful you are even in this shitty lighting, and how thankful he is to be able to see you through his own eyes.

His heart pounds at the confines of his chest like it needs to burst from within. There’s a small burst of adrenaline that plumes from the explosion of butterflies in his stomach. It fills him with the courage he needs to close the distance between you with a kiss, the kind of kiss he’s been dreaming of giving you for months. Right here in this store.

He loves how eager you are to reciprocate when he tangles his fingers in your hair. He holds you there like you’re about to melt away in a puff of smoke. Your lips are so soft, so sweet, so warm pressing against his. His tongue rolls over yours, desperate to keep tasting and feeling more. You grasp behind his neck and dig your fingernails into his shoulder as he deepens the kiss. When you roll your hips towards him as a subtle test for determining his hardness, you can feel him smile against your lips.

“Not in the store.” He gives you one more chaste kiss and pulls back just enough to allow you both to breathe. He adjusts one of the boxes on the nearby shelves. “You already drive me crazy. If we do it here I’m going to be thinking about it every time I’m stocking shelves.”

“Yoongi…” you whine. “Please tell me you’re keeping it closed for the day.”

He sighs as he plucks his phone from the counter to check the time. “Might as well.”

“Can I walk you home?” You chew on your lip as you wait for his response. What you wouldn’t give to spend the night with him.

Unable to hide the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he nods his head towards the exit. “Why would we waste our time?”

Your heart sinks into your butt, thinking this must be it. He changed his mind after all. He hates you. There’s no doubt about it now. All you can manage is a squeaky, “Hmm?”

He rests his palm on the handle of the door and he presses his lips into a thin line, looking wide eyed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so adorably hopeful and embarrassed at the same time. “You live closer.”

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The comforter at your back is soft and cool to the touch as you scramble to settle yourself against the pillows. Yoongi wastes no time wiggling off his sweatpants and climbing over you. The sound of your panting mingles with his as he hovers above you with his lips parted, trying to catch his breath. If the hurried ascent up the stairs wasn’t enough to have him gasping for air, the makeout session just inside your front door definitely has him devoid of oxygen. This still feels like a dream, but it’s one he doesn’t ever want to wake up from.

"How do you want it?" he whispers. He glides a finger up your thigh and lightly traces circles around your labia.

Your mind travels back to your earlier experience of coming undone and suddenly your stomach is doing flips.

"Just like this," you answer. "I want to feel you just like this. Do you remember where to touch?"

He nods, skimming his parted lips over yours while he places his finger over the hood of your clit. "Like this, right?"

"More pressure," you plead, working your hips in circles to coach his movements.

He does as you instruct and clamps his mouth over yours in a futile attempt to find relief for the aching need to be inside of you. He grinds himself against your side, his cock rubbing against your soft, heated skin as he tries to remember the exact motions needed to elicit enough pleasure to make you cum. He doesn't have to wait long until frenzied, weak moans are vibrating against his mouth so he turns his attention to your neck. He wants to hear how fucked out you are. He wants to hear how badly you want to cum. He wants to feel you pulse around his fingers.

As he plunges a thick finger deep into your cunt, a pathetic, desperate sound escapes you. "Oh, fuck."

"Feel good?" he mumbles into the hollow space between your neck and shoulder.

"Please. Please. Please. Please," you whimper incoherently, bucking your hips to meet each thrust of his finger. You can feel his cock rutting against your side and all you can do is imagine that he's pumping it into you instead of his fingers. "Oh fuck, Yoongi."

His lips twitch into a smile as he feels you tighten around his finger. He kisses your neck and sinks a second finger carefully inside you. You allow your head to fall against the pillow and bite your lip to try to contain the drawn out needy groan already helplessly spilling out of you. So close. Your back arches off the mattress and he wishes he wasn't so concentrated on the motions of his hands right now because he would absolutely love to be tonguing your perfect tits.

He pants against your skin and looks at them longingly. Maybe he can manage it? He's determined to use what he's learned about your body to help you cum, but not yet. You can't help but whine at the loss as he repositions himself, which breaks the sightline you had on your orgasm.

"Yoooongi... I was close..." You whimper when he abandons your cunt entirely to press your tits together. His mouth is hot as it clamps down on your nipple, giving the peak a hard suck before dragging it through his teeth.

"I know. Wanna make you cum with my tongue," he murmurs into the supple flesh.

He swipes his fingers along your cunt and swirls the wetness over your clit before bringing it to his mouth. You can already see how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom. The low moan that rumbles its way from his throat has you rocking your hips up against his pelvis as he settles between your legs. Your silent grinding isn't enough of a confirmation. He wants to hear you say it.

"Can I go down on you?" He blurts the shameless question while alternating between kissing both of your breasts and only pauses to meet your eyes.

You want to feel him everywhere but mostly you want his mouth on yours while he’s balls deep inside you. You don’t even care if you cum because being with him like this feels good. Being with him fills your heart with giddy hope and your stomach with butterflies. Being with him is enough. You want to tell him that but instead you nod and whimper out a pathetic “please.”

He wastes no time dipping his head down between your thighs to press the flat of his tongue against your clit. A low growl escapes with his exhale before he puckers his lips to kiss the soft skin and breathe in the heavy scent of your arousal. You’d be embarrassed if his tongue didn’t feel so magical. It glides against you so effortlessly, bringing pleasure with every quick flick against you.

Your hands dive into his hair and you start rolling your hips to grind his face harder against you. He doesn't seem to mind though. In fact he seems to embrace the motion, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you in as closely as possible. If you weren't so preoccupied with the orgasm building just below the surface of the place where his tongue keeps hitting then you might worry that he's suffocating himself. Right now all you can focus on is the pleasure threatening to break you open and leave you spilling a million curses into the air around you.

"Yoongi. Fuck. I'm close," you warn, as if the frantic way you've twirled his hair around each of your fingers isn't enough to tip him off. Do you really think he can't feel the shaking of your thighs in this moment?

He hums a sound like he doesn't hear you, but he doesn't let up at all. He keeps his pace steady for you as you approach your end once again. Your nails scratch against his scalp but he doesn't mind. He actually really likes the way you're losing your mind over the simple things he's doing with his tongue right now. He can't even begin to imagine the pretty sounds that might spew from your lips with practiced effort but he knows he can't wait to hear them.

Suddenly your hand flies up to pound the wall behind you and you announce the wave of pleasure coursing through your clit through the use of a loud string of expletives. He can feel the way your flesh pulses beneath his tongue and he revels in it. You ride his face so well. You can ride it for as long as you want as often as you want. He wants to tell you that but he also wants you to ride out your high for as long as it lasts, so he lets you buck your hips and raise your cunt off the bed. He lets you thrash around through the sensitivity until you're finally pushing his face off with both hands.

"Good? Do you need more?" he verifies, rising from between your legs to deliver a messy, wet kiss to your lips. He smirks through it, knowing he really doesn't need to ask at all to know the answer.

"Cheeky fuck," you murmur, not bothering to even attempt to hide your matching grin against him. "I need it."

"What do you need?" His fingers trail a soft line down your side, reminding you that his teasing nature is simply a front for his caring heart.

"I need you inside me." Your breathing is spotty as you pepper kisses along his jaw. "Like this. I want you to feel me the way I felt you."

It doesn't take long until you're tasting yourself on his lips again. He shifts slightly and you know he's lining himself up with your entrance when you feel the swollen tip of his fat cock nudging at your hole. He's slow to thrust into you. In fact he stills, only giving you shallow, teasing thrusts. He favors letting you wiggle down just a little bit to coax him in. He smiles against your lips and pushes in further, giving you that stretch you were hoping for.

When you suck in a sharp breath he pulls out, but as soon as you whine in protest, he's already carefully moving to slide it back in. The slow stretch has your jaw dropping open and he takes the opportunity to bite on your lower lip. You take the bait and feed him hungry kisses until he’s completely buried inside of your tight cunt. He takes a moment to growl a low sound that has you clenching around him.

“So tight,” he whispers, pausing to curl an arm beneath your head.

He presses the back of your hand against the mattress as he twines his fingers with yours. He drives himself deeper into you with each slow thrust and it feels like he still can’t get close enough. So you raise your other arm above you and angle it until you’re linking your fingers with the ones beneath your head. You kiss his cheek and savor the intimate moment.

When he lazily sinks into your cunt again you crack a smile. “Can't you fuck me harder than that?"

"Mmm." He lifts his head and seems to accept your challenge. His hips pull out slowly and suddenly slam back into you. This sets a new fervent pace that has you squeezing both of his hands. "What do you think? Is this better?"

You do little to actually answer his question and instead offer a slew of swears and moans each time his balls slap against your ass. "Shit. Fuck, fuck fuck. Yoongi..."

"What kind of answer is that?" he asks innocently.

"God, your cock..."

"Mhm," he prods.

"Feels so good, Yoon."

He chuckles. "Yoon... Cute."

"I'll show you cute," you huff.

"Oh?"

You release his hands in favor of pressing your palms against his chest. He pulls out and before you can miss the way he fills you, you're flipping him down on the mattress. You swing a leg over his pelvis and straddle him. It takes you a moment to properly position yourself. You give his length a few pumps in your hand before lining it up with your entrance.

"Careful," he warns, planting his hands on your thighs. "Don't wear yourself out."

You sink down quicker than you probably should. You're eager to make him cum faster than he did for you. The wetness in your core seeps down in translucent trails down your inner thighs. Your own brand of lubricant seems to be enough to keep the stretch pleasurable. Yoongi bites his lip as he gazes down at the way you're bouncing on his cock. You know how good it feels for him, especially with how hard your pussy is squeezing him.

"Don't worry about me."

The sensory overload building in your gut coated with the memory of the unique experience. It mixes with the high threatening to burn its way from your core. You take a deep breath and exhale loudly before you continue. You revel in a slow descent, memorizing every kind of way the stroke makes you feel. Then you begin to quickly draw him in and out of your cunt. The obscene sounds of wet, rapid slapping fill the room.

After a few minutes you've finally got a good rhythm down. Despite the cramp throbbing down your obliques, he's hitting that sweet spot inside you at just the right angle. If you didn't know any better you'd think you're about to cum again. You steady yourself on his chest and trail your hand to his stomach to maintain your balance. Trying to keep the unrealistic pace you'd previously set for yourself is proving difficult, but you swear you're feeling like maybe you're about to crest into the biggest climax of your life. Then again, it could certainly be the biggest letdown now that you're aware of it. Your orgasms have left you for less.

Yoongi knots his eyebrows together in concentration and he reaches down to rub circles against your clit. His fingers are clumsy and new to this angle but they're feather light. He can see in your face that you're chasing some great new high and he just wants to help you achieve it without overdoing it. He knows how shy your cunt is about giving you orgasms so he really wants to do it right. Is this right? He figures you'll tell him if it isn't.

You moan weakly in response. Suddenly, you know it's coming. You can feel it building every time his hips slap up to meet yours. "Oh my fuck."

His abdominal muscles flex beneath your palm and he forces his breaths through his nose as he struggles to keep himself composed. Your cunt is squeezing him so tightly that he knows he's on the brink of his own release but he's determined to help you feel as good as you make him feel.

"That's it. Cum for me again." He tries to coax it with those strong pleas, but his voice is broken with an inhale sharp enough to cut his words.

Both of your thighs are coated in slick sweat. You don't think you've ever felt so fucking wet in your life. He glistens just as much in the dim light so you know between the two of you there's a puddle of sweat soaking your sheets. It's easy to forget how gross or embarrassing it is when the tip of his cock rubs against your g-spot so well. Right now the only thing that matters is getting relief for this pressure building behind your clit.

Despite the shakiness of his fingers, he's able to coax it out of you. Your trembling thighs feel like an earthquake that's finally reached its peak tremor and you find yourself crying out and bouncing to the rhythm of your spasming cunt. You chant your praises and curses in the same breath. His name is a drawn out breathy expression of gratitude and bliss. As soon as you slump forward to kiss him he takes your hands in his own and frantically pumps himself up into you. He can still feel the involuntary flex of your cunt even after you've clearly expended every ounce of your energy reaching and literally riding out your second orgasm.

"Can I cum inside?" he asks between frantic breaths.

"Well, you're not gonna make it to these tits," you tease with a smirk. You may be spent but you'll always have the energy to give him shit. "Do it."

"So fuckin hot," he mumbles against your lips.

The muffled grunts expelled against your mouth and the slow, deliberate snap of his hips leave you in a state of surreal euphoria. He squeezes your hands in his along with his release to let you know this is real. You're here with him. When he comes down from his high he kisses you gently one more time and pulls back to look at you. You take the break in physical connection to roll off of him and stretch out your aching calves and let the air from the fan cool your skin. The tingling in your legs tells you not to get up right now, as much as the fear of a UTI screams at you to do the contrary. Instead you turn your head towards Yoongi and he smiles at you. Sleep threatens to take you when he begins to stroke your hair.

"If you'd have told me last week I'd feel this close to someone, I'd have laughed at you," he starts in a quiet voice, "but I feel really close to you. I'm glad this insanity happened to us."

"Me too." You can't help but smile back. "I don't want to go to sleep because I'm afraid you'll be gone when I wake up. What if this is a dream?"

"Then I'll find you when I wake up. You'd better find me too."

"What if we forget?"

He grabs your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckles. "I won't forget."

"Promise?"

"Mhm." He closes his eyes, clearly every bit as exhausted as you are. He's quiet for a minute and you think maybe he's already fallen asleep until he peeks out from under his eyelids. "... I think you need glasses."

"What?"

"I was just thinking. I felt like I was squinting all the time when I was you. Maybe that's why it took you so long to see how I felt." He shows off a big, toothy grin.

"Wow that guy really rubbed off on you, huh?"

You smack him in the face with a pillow when you get up.

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╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The muffin and can of Hot6 sit on the counter, guarded by Yoongi's forearm.

"Wow, you already have my stuff ready? Is this the kind of perk I get for dating the owner?" you wonder.

He rolls his eyes. "Not yours until you pay for it."

"You're so sweet, not eating my muffin this time."

He drags his lip through his teeth and tries to hold back a devilish smirk. "I've found better things to eat, don't you think?"

Your heart thumps against your chest and you do your best to remind yourself that offering to suck his dick behind the counter is not what you should be doing in this situation. But you want it so bad. He watches your internal struggle with raised eyebrows and a smug smile. He slides the energy drink towards you.

"Here. This is on me today. You look a little thirsty."

Your shoulders raise and then deflate with your sigh. "Do you even want me to come back later?"

"What? It's free for you. You should be happy."

"And the muffin? What do I owe for that?"

He mimics your dramatic sigh and places it before you. "It's crazy. Your boyfriend offered to pay for that too."

"He's so generous." You shake your head but it can't keep the grin from your face. "Lots of free stuff today."

"It's a... special for today only. So don't get used to it or anything. But there is one more thing we're having a sale on, if you're interested."

"Hmm?"

"Free of charge, for you only." He taps his lips with both pointers, looking impossibly cute. His charm is devastating, really.

He cracks a smile and you feel yours grow impossibly wider. You lean over the counter and give him a sweet kiss.

"How long does this offer last?"

"As long as you want."

"Forever."

"Forever, it is." He gives you one more quick peck. "I've gotta mop the floor and you're gonna be late for work."

"Ugh. Wanna trade?"

He purses his lips and gives your hand a little squeeze. "Not a chance."

[saudade-mayari]

Hewwo~ Could I request sfw & nsfw hcs for Lee with a lowkey hyper, highkey mischievous, sunshine s/o that's easily flustered by anything in relation to Lee and reflexively clams up, tsundere style, when the blushy affection is commented on? If you could throw in a manhandling kink on the s/o's part, I would be over the moon and, coincidentally, could also toss it to your way if you want<3 (Cuse who would settle for stars when you can have the moon? •̀ᴗ•́ (Also, can I just say your blog's aesthetic is so pleasing, it's always a pleasure dropping by~ ´ ▽ `)) Thanks for your time and have a nice day/night! ^▽^

Dating Rock Lee

Lee x fem! Reader

warnings: POST WAR Era, 18+ content, fluffs

a/n: Thank you anon-chan💜🥺 and I am sorry if this not what you expected omg😂😭

SFW

Let’s be real here. Lee is the most outward and sweetest person you could ever know.

Lee enjoys whatever expression you make.

He is ten times hyper when you’re watching him train, talk about show off

We all know how much impulsive he could get most especially with Tenten and Guy but sometimes he is a little intimidated by your tsundere attitude.

BUT LEE FINDS HIMSELF LOVING TALKING TO YOU OKAY🥺

He likes seeing you flustered when he feels like he is talking too much omg WHICH ALWAYS HAPPENS

People may usually talk about your tsundere attitude and Lee would ALWAYS defend you.

“You shouldn’t judge people that easily. She’s a wonderful person!”

Y o u t h let’s talk about that yeah.

“Good morning to you y/n you look really youthful today”

Lee giving youthful remarks on a daily basis is almost normal to you.

But it’ll really hit different if Lee would give you remarks that will surely make u blush omg AND LEE WASN’T AWARE HOW MUCH FLUSTERED U ARE.

“Good morning sunshine, you look extremely bright and gorgeous today.”

Lee would be really shocked when you go around open, that you ARE actually a hyperactive one and mischievous person

“Hey y/n I did 500 push ups today”

“Really? I did 501 today” *wink*

It would turn the tables upside down, he’ll be more flustered than you are😂

But he’s more than happy and he really loves it because you respond to his random whims and shenanigans

So Lee is a person full of surprises, he gives you A LOT that he thinks would describe you (even ninja tools omg)😂😭😭

And sometimes when he gives you something he would steal a lot of kisses. (Let’s face it Lee is a sucker for kisses)

Lee would always chuckle whenever you blush REAL HARD.

“Stop blushing sunshine, you look extremely youthful and hot.”

NSFW

So.... He is a touchy person. Sometimes consciously but most of the time unconsciously.

Sometimes when you’re alone with him, Lee would find your blushes HOT.

He’ll make u feel he’s oblivious to the heat you’re feeling but he’s doing it intentionally 😫

Lee could be a sweet and a soft fucker but he knows what you like and WHAT TURNS YOU ON.... so he changes to a different person when you’re in bed with him.

Lee’s grips omg you won’t be able to handle it and little did you know you LOVED it when he takes all the fucking control.

Giving Lee a head would be deadass shocking for him, too overwhelming but sometimes you wanna reward him for a hard training 😌

and he’s come to loving the view of kneeling for him...

His random touches in your inner thighs that would slowly frustrate you and although it’s rare coz Lee hates it whenever you’re in a desperate state, sometimes you’ll come to the extent you”ll beg

“You want me handling you right? Be patient sunshine”

He could fuck you by the wall oh god.

Your chest slamming on the wall while giving you rough fucks then he’ll be more aggressive on rubbing your clit. Perks of his intense training.

He has no idea how much he can overstimulate you just with his hands 🤫

And when he’s on top of you he WILL hold your wrist above your head. He will watch you part your lips while moaning his name and Lee would be more turned on.

Lee’s aftercare would be the sweetest. He is back to his usual and sweetest self and trust me it’ll make you blush real hard

[t-lostinworlds]

for the youtube thing can u plese do the mouth to mouth challenge, i really want u to write it cause u r like the best writer ever , way better then me

TH’s YouTube Extras: Mouth to Mouth Challenge

a/n: you are too sweet gosh asdfghjkl thank you angel. i hope you enjoy this lovely! ❤ oh and it’s suggestive in some parts but not much hehe.

☰ youtube channel | recent video

-:-:-:-:-

"Right, mouth to mouth challenge here we go!" Tom rubbed his hands together enthusiastically, gaze set on the camera as a wide grin played on his lips. "We each have to take the opposite sides of the food in our mouths and the first one to do as much as look away, loses the round. The overall loser gets to do a forfeit which will be decided by the boys."

You and Tom were both sitting side by side on the couch and much like before, the camera right in front. Harry was right behind it and this time he was joined by Tuwaine. Harrison was MIA given that he had errands to attend to.

"You seem a bit too excited," you teased.

Tom shrugged, turning to you with that charming grin. "I get to be so close to you and stare into those lovely, beautiful eyes, of course I'm excited."

"As if you don't already do that on a daily," you pointed out, amusement laced in your tone as you shook your head at your man.

"Yeah, I do. But I can never get enough of those gorgeous eyes, darling," he gushed, brown orbs glowing with adoration when it locked with yours, Tom flashing you that bright smile of his you always adore.

You beamed at him with a soft giggle, shaking your head before turning to the camera to shoot it a sympathetic smile. "He's just a walking ball of cheese guys, I apologise," you joked.

"As if she doesn't love it," Tom scoffed with a playful roll of his eyes, giving the camera a look before turning back to you. "Let's get into it shall we?"

"Let's."

Tom held his hand out. "First up," he paused, catching the candy—not so smoothly—that Tuwaine threw and then presenting it towards the camera. "Kit Kat."

"Break it like a sane person, Holland," you warned, Tom's laugh booming soon after your comment.

He knows how to eat a Kit Kat obviously, he does have brain cells. But other times when he feels like being an extra little shit, he breaks the bar the opposite direction on how you're supposed to, leaving you with uneven Kit Kat pieces. It honestly drives you up the wall all the damn time, Tom saying how he finds it so cute how you get riled up by a candy bar, hence why he does it whenever he can. It's one of the many ways he uses to press your buttons, all from love and affection of course.

Placing the tip of Kit Kat between his teeth, Tom leaned back on the couch, arm resting behind you as he shot you a nod. You moved closer, hand rested on his thigh as you took the opposite side. You two moved closer in fits of giggles as you ate the candy little by little, eyes locked securely that it was hard to determine on who would give up first. That until Tom decided to play dirty, literally.

He started groaning and moaning in a hush manner, pretending to enjoy the chocolate a bit too much. But you know what he was trying to do and given the proximity that you two are in, you can hear the sounds he was making very clearly and it was very distracting. It was when he shot you a wink that you pulled away, shaking your head to rid of the heat that coated your face.

Tom ate the rest of the chocolate with a hearty laugh. "I'd win this on a streak," he said smugly.

"Stop making those sounds Thomas," you complained in a whisper, Tom turning his head to look at you, acting all oblivious even though he knows what you meant.

"What sounds?"

You rolled your eyes.

A thought crossed your mind once you saw the next candy that Tuwaine tossed. You hummed to yourself with a nod. If Tom was going to play dirty then, might as well give him a taste of his own medicine.

"Sour belt this time," Tom said, showing the camera the candy over his palm like it's a make-up product. He did the same as before and placed the end of the strip between his lips.

Hand still firmly on his thigh, you started at the bottom since the candy was hanging down Tom's chin, keeping your gaze locked with his. Tom's eyes followed your form as you lowered yourself, orbs looking up at him with that all too familiar gloss. You darted your tongue out to take the candy between your lips before they started to move in a way that made Tom's insides churn. You looked at him through your lashes as you ate the candy inch by inch, giving his thigh a pointed squeeze. Tom choked in a breath at the sight, dropping the belt as he looked away with a low growl before things start to escalate in his head, knowing he can't hide it in his sweatpants.

A cheer erupted out of you as you sat straighter and turned to the camera, candy in mouth with both your hands thrown up in the air. "Point for me!" you laughed once you've eaten all of it.

Tom shook his head, gaze trained on the ground since his cheeks were now coated with a deep shade of red. "Not fair," he grumbled, the hand he had behind you picking at the material of the couch to distract his mind.

"What? I wasn't doing anything wrong," you hummed, tilting your head to the side as you looked at him with a pout.

It was Tom's turn to roll his eyes.

"Okay, last one," Tom said, catching the box of Jaffa cakes easily. He took one out and placed it between his teeth. This time, you had to move even closer to reach him since the length of the cake was much shorter than the previous candies.

As you started to lean in to take the other end, Tom dropped the Jaffa cake at the last minute to give you a loud—and very surprising—peck on your lips. The smack echoed around the room as you stared at him wide-eyed before your brain finally registered what had happened.

"Tom," you whined, dropping your head on his shoulder to hide the embarrassment on your face. Tom lets out a hearty laugh, wrapping his arms around your shoulders with a kiss landing on top of your head.

"She always gets shy whenever I give her random affections in public, or in this case, showing it online," he said towards the camera. "It's so freakin' adorable."

"Such a huge cheeseball," you grumbled before sitting up to meet his eyes. "You dropped the cake so I won. That makes it 2 for 1 so ha! You're doing the forfeit." You stuck your tongue out at him before turning to the camera with a proud glow on your face.

Tom shook his head with an adoring smile as he ogled at you fondly. He loves seeing you win, it's honestly the most endearing thing no matter how little the achievement and it makes him feel like he won himself.

"Totally worth it," Tom chuckled with a shrug.

"Until you see the forfeit," Harry quipped, Tuwaine coming over and handing Tom a glass of a very odd looking liquid.

"Oh no, what's in this?" Tom asked, a sharp grimace coating his face as he took the glass. He gave it a waft, gagging soon after with a look of downright disgust. "Mate, what the fuck is this? You guys trying to kill me or something?"

"It's everything you just ate blended together with a few secret ingredients," Tuwaine laughed.

"Bottoms up, babe," you giggled.

Tom looked at you with a deadpan expression as if to say, "Really?" You only shot him a bright smile, Tom sighing before his gaze landed back on the concoction.

"Can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, hand coming up to pinch his nose before he threw his head back and took a big gulp. "It's actually not that bad when you get the smell out of the way," he hummed, smacking his lips as he eyed the drink in his hand.

"You are a weirdo," you laughed with a scrunch of your nose.

"I'm your weirdo," he retorted with a smug grin.

"Can we put a cheese counter in the corner of this video?" you joked.

Tom laughed with a shake of his head. "Well, that was very anti-climatic," he paused, showing the camera a peace sign and adding, "See you on the next one guys!"

Harry threw a thumbs-up to signal cut.

Tearing your gaze away from the camera, you turned to your boyfriend just in the nick of time. "Hey!" You snatched the drink away from Tom when he started to bring it up to his lips again. "What on earth are you doing?"

"It's not that bad, love," Tom chuckled.

"Yeah, until you complain about stomach aches and frequent visits to the toilet," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Standing up from your seat, you jabbed a finger at Tom. "Brush your teeth. No kisses for you until you do so." You raised a knowing brow at him before making your way to the kitchen to get rid of whatever this liquid is.

"Love you!" Tom called out lovingly, your voice echoing from the kitchen soon after.

"Love you too!"

"Ugh, so much cheese in this house it's starting to smell."

"Harry, you've never sounded more single."

"Fuck off, Tom."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed & lemme know your thoughts! <3

♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega @badreputatiom @fallinfortom @disneysamara @avengersficwriter @musicalkeys @apatheticanvas67482 @camimndess @tom-hlover @jjandreidsgirl @blossomparkers @thenoddingbunny-blog @sarcasticallywitty15 @call-me-baby-gir1 @miraclesoflove @tanakaslastbraincell @itstaskeen ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove @averyfosterthoughts @2018shawn @darlingspidey @namoreno @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl @keepingupwiththehollands @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @unbelievableholland @kittenruby @sunkisseddreamer @worldoftom @quaksonhehe @big-galaxy-chaos @clara-licht @dummiesshort @imanativeofswlondondahling @sonofabitchstyles @perspectiveparker @geminiparkers @parker-hollandx @arivera-30 @rebekkah4766 @particularnarry @iwannabekilledtwice @prettyintopeerpressure @fancyxparker @givebuckyhisplumsnow @asoftie4bucky @dandelionxgal @peterspideysstuff @zspideyy @lmaotshollandd @sluttytears​ ♛ Tom’s YT Shenanigans Taglist: @greatpizzascissorstaco @rosiesimone819 @shawnscxlvins

[daiseukiis]

: ̗̀➛𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙞 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙘𝙝𝙞 ?

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

─꒱ in which we peak into how jujutsu kaisen characters handle their child on a daily basis。

─꒱ feat. gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara & itadori yuji

─꒱ warnings ; none

─꒱ notes ; suddenly i’m having jjk as parents brain rot after a night of reading megumi smut

─꒱ JJK AS PARENTS PART TWO

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

─── ➴ GOJO SATORU

꒰꒰ he’s a great dad trust me, spoils his child like no one’s business. you want the entire set of the haikyuu manga and crunchyroll premium? give him five minutes to purchase them. want front row tickets to see nct in korea? yeah, he’ll get it for them and thats plane tickets on first class

꒰꒰ but don’t get me wrong,,, he’s a doting father but sometimes it might be just too much.

꒰꒰ for starters, mans gotta know where their kid's heading on a daily basis. gotta shot him a text that heading to shibuya with your friends or taking a flight to okinawa or hokkaido. he just wants them to be safe !!

꒰꒰ expect him to text his kid almost every time he’s out buying anything. he’d be all the way in osaka, they're in class they will randomly get a text from him if they want uncle rikuro cheese cake or kuidaore taro pudding.

꒰꒰ not to mention !!! he will text you it’s an emergency and they have to call him, a matter of life or death situation. knowing he’s a shaman, he could die but there’s like a percentage of a chance that could happen, it's percentage rivals how fast he can activate his expansion domain. which isn’t much. but when they pick up the phone, he’s just gonna ask the. which top would look better or say there’s a hot deal for these sweets across the street and if they wanna go

꒰꒰ his favourite thing to do it probably embarrass his kid in front of their friends. maybe. yeah. baby pictures and all

꒰꒰ if he has a daughter his father radar is SO high. a boy gives even a glance her way, he will probably threathen them. spoils her with so much it even HURTS to look at his bank account but he's rich so ;;; takes her out shopping and half his camera roll is photos of her or selfies of them

꒰꒰ if it's a guy, he will cheer him on every time a girl confesses his love for his son. probably even gives him condoms and tips but you didn't hear that from me. with no doubt gloat to his students how amazing and manly his son is, takes him out on missions when he wants and goes sweet store hopping with him

꒰꒰ if his child returns home crying for whatever reason, a boy broke her heart or someone beat their kid up for doing the right thing;; bitch gojo is gon beat the shit outta them no cap

꒰꒰ he's the dad every teacher flirts with at parent teacher conferences, and the dad every girl in the friend with has a crush on

─── ➴ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

꒰꒰ amazaing dad, but probably should work more on the expressing it to his kid area

꒰꒰ he won't spoil them rotten like gojo, but if he sees its something that they truly want and sees that it's of use or valuable, he will get it for them because he wants to see his kid smile

꒰꒰ he's not big on affection, probably a hug time to time and an appreciation pat on the head. if his kid falls he would just crouch down and ask if they need a hand, or is their baby girl starts crying he'll pick her up into his arms and pat his head

꒰꒰ if he has a daughter he would be reluctant to go shopping with her, but he does like the fact that his kid is smiling and showing him her outfits. he better have a say as well if there's an attire that shows to much skin, he just wants the best for his girl. if a boy looks her way with a look, he will emit an aura enough for the boy to piss his pants

꒰꒰ if his kid is a boy, you bet hes gonna teach his son to beat up half the delinquents up the area too ‼ he has so much trust in his son, they would spar sometimes and he would take him on to missions. he sucks at giving advice, probably around the words of 'just be yourself?' he won't show it but he's cheering for you

꒰꒰ he's a chill dad, if their kid ever forgets anything at home and he's off to drop it off at school, he would be a bit reluctant cuz why did they forget it to begun with, but he's gonna do it anyways <3 the one parent that everyone calls pretty

꒰꒰ he'll text his kid basic and short messages, a how's your day or do you want anything from here kinda texts when he's out on missions. he wants to be sure that you're given enough space to be yourself within his reach

꒰꒰ fushiguro screams like the type of dad that would have a family photo in his wallet. i just find that cute and UGGH yes <3

꒰꒰ if his kid comes home crying, he's going to immediately comfort them. bad test or shitty day, he's gonna be slightly awkward but he'll take them out for their favourite food or arcade

꒰꒰ he's also the typa dad that will check up on you before he goes to bed or when he comes back from a mission, when you're all asleep just to make sure you're safe

─── ➴ KUGISAKI NOBARA

꒰꒰ listen,,, listen, kugisaki is a bad bitch mother and it radiates that energy

꒰꒰ if she has a kid, she's gonna raise them to be the baddest bitch in all of tokyo, in all of japan if all i care. she gives her kids credit for even trying to beat gojo up, but if they can't she's still gonna be happy if they tell her they kicked a guy's kneecaps in for taking their lunch money

꒰꒰ a little reckless, her parenting methods are a bit questionable but like its kugisaki here, she does whatever the hell she wants. her kid falls to the ground? don't cry pussy, get up you're better than this

꒰꒰ kugisaki's that mother who probably buys take out food every friday, or takes her kids out to a mf buffet only to tell them to pay for her because she gave birth to their ungrateful asses

꒰꒰ she's the most chill mother out there, all her kids' friends probably want to be adopted by her because she's fun and knows how to kick ass

꒰꒰ if she has a daughter, definitely wants them to be famous instead of a shaman. she wants to see her kid rocking those magazines or fuckin it up in movies or j-dramas, so she got rights to stroll through the red carpet as the most beautiful mother

꒰꒰ if she has a son, definitely will end up making him into a loyal, bad boy who knows how to drink his respect women juice on a daily basis. the son who also get absolutely wrecked by his own mother in smash bros. doesn't matter how old kugisaki is, she would still be able to beat her son even if he's a first grade shaman

꒰꒰ if her kids come home crying, i bet you she'll only scold them. she'll ask why the hell you crying over this guy/girl, they're way low of the standards and are not even it. she would convince them that they're so much better (?) to make them feel good about themselves. and then she'll probably head lock the kid to crush on a better person

꒰꒰ she's the type of mother who wouldn't sit down to talk to her kid often, sometimes she also socks at communicate like fushiguro but at least she knows it. she would be the type that would comfort her kid by bring food ( typical asian parent shit tsk iykyk )

꒰꒰ she's also that type of mother when they tell her that someone makes fun of something to the point that their kid is broken by it, she will get out that car and pick at fight with the kids, and then wipe their ass on the floor, and the mop the deck with their parents

─── ➴ ITADORI YUJI

꒰꒰ this man is the personification of a fun, chill and laid-back father

꒰꒰ he would be the dad that would wake their kid up in the morning so they're not late, pack their food or bring food to their school if they forgot to bring any

꒰꒰ he doesn't really spoil his kid, but you bet he'll take them to fun places like arcades, escape rooms and even go street food binging. definitely would have a movie marathon too

꒰꒰ if he's back from a mission early and near the school his kid goes too, you bet he's going to catch them by the end of school just to walk home with them and take about his mission

꒰꒰ he's the kind of dad that wouldn't mind if they're swearing around the house, but they gotta watch their mouth still, he doesn't want them to be as bad as sailor nor does he want them picking up nasty habits

꒰꒰ if his kid is a girl, he will give her space and room for anything, be it needing some time alone after a bad test or constantly wanting to go out with her friends to get her mind off things that he might not be able to fix. he doesn't mind going shopping, definitely would give an opinion to any outfits with a thumbs up. takes pictures with his daughter on any shenanigans they do together and send them to his group chat with kugisaki and fushiguro

꒰꒰ having a boy, he would want to play sports with them and go on missions. sometimes they would go to the arcade to try the punching game to see who has the highest and then bet the lower pays for food after. he likes giving advice, even though it won't be helpful or will be, he's gonna say it either in hopes that it'll be brought up in their head in any moment they're in

꒰꒰ he's the type of dad that has a selfie of him and his kid as a lockscreen i jUST KNOW IT

꒰꒰ if his kid comes home crying he will be so worried. like whats wrong, what happened, who hurt you, does he have to punch someone?! he's going to pull them into his arms and take them out for food, maybe even a walk. he's they type to want to cheer them up no matter the situation, and probably when they're all good and dandy, he will personally talk to solve the root of the problem behind their back

꒰꒰ when there's something to be settled, i bet you that they settle it with a game of rock-paper-scissors out five ‼‼

─── ➴ SUKUNA ( BONUS )

꒰꒰ what makes you think this man wanted a child, if he did have one ; probably either got it killed during the heian era or he killed it for his superiority complex </3

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

DO NOT REPOST 、 MODIFY 、 CLAIM WORK OR LAYOUT AS YOURS.

© MGUQIIS 、 2020

[heuristicallyinclined]

SPF Five Million or Whatever

Summary: Mspa Reader figures they need some sunlight and recruits a few friends to help them get it.

Rating: T for language

Notes: I haven't written any of the jades before and I really love them and tried my best to capture their dynamic. I really love imagining Mspa Reader's adventures between Friendsim and Pesterquest. I feel like the games were really just scratching the surface of their shenanigans.  

(AO3)

You are pretty sure that people need about twenty minutes of sunlight a day to stay healthy. 

Or at least that is what you think it is. You never really thought about it too much to be honest. Having spent a decent amount of time outside walking, you figured you were getting your daily dose in without much effort, and maybe you just didn’t realize how good you had it, not living on a planet that even passively was trying to kill you. Because right now, you know for a fact you’re getting the ideal amount of sunlight on Alternia, which in your personal experience is fucking ziltch.

You tried it once and learned pretty fast that what might leave you with a healthy glow on Earth, would leave you well done on Alternia, a disgusting state for any piece of meat to be in, let alone your body. So that was clearly an Earth exclusive recommendation. 

Still, you think some sunlight would do you good. 

Especially since you were starting to feel this constant exhaustion after a few months on Alternia. After ruling out your questionable diet and semi existent sleep schedule, you were left with the fact that you were likely getting a vitamin D deficiency. 

Frankly, you have not survived your various trials and many tribulations here on Alternia to let rickets be what finally kills you. Absolutely not. No. You’re too proud to die in the lamest way possible on a planet with significantly more respectable and less preventable ways of dying. 

This does mean you’ll have to face off with the Alternian sun, which really isn’t that much better on the lame death scale. Last time you got caught out during daylight, you got really lucky. You aren’t counting on a second time where a gorgeous cowgirl, alien Lassie, and a lot of dumb luck would happen to rescue you from your own poor life choices. 

So this time, you were going to try to be smart about doing something this monumentally stupid. You were going to get water, a floppy hat, and some ice packs. Now you just had to not do this alone, especially when you knew someone who touted the merits of the buddy system. 

Luckily, you also know a few people who could withstand the sun’s rays. 

Finding out that jadeblood sun resistance was in fact a real thing and not just the latest in fucking with the local alien made this a whole lot easier and left you with a few options to consider. You figured Wanshi was too young to be kept up that late and that you’d rather not traumatize her if this went sideways. Bronya mentioned being busy with a new brood hatching and managing the herd of lusii they attracted to the caverns so that was a no go. Lanque would likely be otherwise occupied or at least claim to be and you’d rather him not see you like this if you could help it. That left you with Daraya, who you knew would be up and likely be down for some alien shenanigans. But most importantly, Lynera.

One massive check in her favor is she already had experience inconspicuously carrying your injured body through the caverns unnoticed by literally anyone else to a secondary location So discretion was clearly already a strong suit of hers. The context for how she even got that much experience in the first place is none of your business, especially now that you’re friends. And you’d say you two were actually pretty close after all the time you’ve spent hanging out with her in the caverns and going out on little cafe trips.

Really, she was the ideal candidate for this by every observable metric. Well, almost.

While she is loyal enough that you knew that she would help you hide a body if asked, she has also threatened enough people for perceived slights against you that she would very likely be the reason there was a corpse hanging around in the first place. So having Daraya be there too was probably a safe move. 

Oh it’s all coming together now.

You were feeling really good about this. Your confidence in yourself, your friends, and your planning abilities carried you through two difficult conversations. One with a veneer of apathy trying to conceal some very real concern, the other incredibly loud and extremely worried, but you got through them and that’s what matters. 

So here you are at the brooding caverns, tucked away inside the turn just before the mouth, clad in some cool guy shades from Cirava, a sun hat from Charun, some shorts from Remele, and a Xoloto brand tank top complete with strategic ripping that makes it basically impossible to wear anywhere in public without a layer underneath. 

Your friends are right here with you. Lynera is alternating between pacing and fretting over the placement of your sun hat for the seventh time to really make sure your hair doesn’t ignite. You know it won’t and you told her it won’t, but you let her fuss. She just needs to do something with her hands to stay calm. You can at least let her have that with what you’re about to do. Daraya checks her palm husk again for the time as dawn steadily approaches. You take a deep breath in, psyching yourself up. 

So you never actually figured out what the Alternian sun equivalent to twenty minutes of Earth sun is. But you think a minute should be enough to do it and not pass out. It feels about right. You have based this off of no math whatsoever, but you’ve done worse with less prep, so you’re not going to let some nerd shit stop you. Especially not now, when you hear Daraya sigh. You know that it’s show time. 

You look at her to confirm as she pockets her device and you see some light begin to stretch into the cavern’s entrance. She looks at it too, frowning as it approaches.

“▲▲ try not to fry your pan ▼▼"

You give her a reassuring smile and run up through the mouth of the cave, and stop just past the entrance, arms up wide and outstretched, like you were doing the YMCA dance and lost rhythm just past the first letter, ready to receive that sunlight you so desperately craved. The sun hits your skin and there is a comfort in feeling’s its warmth after living in eternal night.

You really missed this.

...

Actually, you know what? No you don’t. Fuck this. 

That “gentle warmth” quickly became a scorching blaze and to your credit, you made it a solid ten seconds under the full wrath of that relentless bitch they called a sun before you decided to quit while you were ahead and conscious. You dash back towards the entrance, uncomfortably aware of every step you take. Lynera stops nervously pacing and stiffens when you reenter the shade and runs towards you. Daraya is ready and quickly hands you a water bottle. You struggle to open the cap because of the condensation making the bottle slick and it exacerbates the painful tingle you’re feeling all over your hands. And your face. And your everything actually. 

You continue struggling until you finally succeed in twisting the cap off, but your victory immediately proves to be a hollow one, as your tight grip on the bottle has water going everywhere. 

God. Damn. It. 

You’re vaguely cognisant of a screeching sound somewhere behind you, but you have more important concerns right now. By some absolute miracle, a decent amount of the water seems to have gotten on you and saturated your top, soothing the skin under it. You feel less like you’re on fire and more like you had marinated your entire body in icy-hot for a few hours before getting deep fried. 

You’d like to believe that that is a much more manageable situation. Your skin can’t tell much of a difference though so you waste no time and pour the rest out all over your face like you were a champ who just scored the winning goal instead of a dipshit speedrunning skin cancer. 

Daraya mercifully cracks a cold one with the boys and pours the contents of another water bottle on you like you were a plant she forgot to water. The cool sensation on your skin causes you to sigh in a relief that doesn’t last long, before you lose contact with the ground. Lynera has you thrown over her shoulder and starts quickly making her way back into the caverns to her respiteblock. The physical contact takes that previous painful tingle and absolutely fucking floors it, bringing you to a familiar world of pain that your ass was very content not revisiting. Daraya keeps pace behind the two of you with her arms crossed the face of someone who is totally not panicked.

You try to calm them, telling them you feel better already. Really, you mean it. 

This just causes Lynera to speed up and Daraya to grimace down at you instead of giving you an actual response. 

While, yes, you resent having flesh, you actually feel really awake right now. 

Daraya narrows her eyes. “▲▲ you mean from the pain? ▼▼”

No. No. That's different. And way more familiar. 

God. Despite looking like a freshly hatched octogenarian, Lynera can really book it. 

She carries your limp, increasingly dizzy body with ease. You knew she was deceptively strong and fast first hand, based off of her being able to immediately able to knock you the fuck out and lug you back to her combination study block murder dungeon. Honestly, being able to do anything with an alien discreetly deserves commendation. Commendation up and out the wazoo. 

You’re about to attempt to try to verbalize that thought, but just before the turn to get to Lynera's study block, she suddenly stops. She nervously glances between this hallway and another adjacent one one. Daraya almost bumps into her but stops herself just in time. 

"▲▲▲ what are you doing? We said we were just going to put them in a spare recuperacoon ▼▼▼" Daraya whisper yells. 

"They're a new color Daraya !!!" Lynera whisper yells to the point of negating the whisper part of the whisper yell and more just using a normal speaking volume with a hiss. “-they need !!! A medicull kit !!!”

Oh. You glance down at one of your dangling arms. That happened fast. In retrospect, you should have mentioned that was a thing that would potentially happen. How did you forget that?  

“▲▲▲ and do what? A medicull kit could make them worse. We don’t know shit about aliens ▼▼▼”

“-!!! well how would you know all of their injuries were taken care of! that we didnt miss anything!”  

“▲ they’re fine. We just, I don't fucking know? Rotate them in the slime? ▼”

“-like some sort of !!! rotisserie cluckbeast !!!” Lynera indignantly whisper shrieks. 

"▲▲ No!▼▼" Daraya quickly defends. The way her eyes quickly glance to the side seems to imply that's kind of exactly what it's like. 

Just like them rotisserie chickens. 

The longer their arguing went on, the more uncomfortably aware you were getting about the fact that you had a body and Lynera's clothes felt like steel wool grating against your poor skin. That and describing what they were doing as “whisper arguing” was becoming more and more of a stretch as it went on and started to get louder. You were worried you were going to attract unwanted attention. 

It is as soon as you have that thought, that a door opens, and you see an irritated Lanque groggily peek his head through to find the source of the commotion. 

His face remains still at first, blinking tiredly as he takes in the fuckery and only opens the door wider when the other two turn at the sound of his door opening and he registers you slumped over Lynera’s shoulder with a single raised brow. 

You smile and wave at him, despite how lightheaded her turn had you feeling, and Daraya quickly pulls your hand down and stands in front of you like there was nothing to see here. You let out a weak, “ow,” as she did, your flesh protesting at the touch. She glances back at you quickly, before exasperatedly turning to look back at Lanque with her arms crossed.

“▲▲ what? ▼▼”

He measuredly looks at the scene before him. Really taking in all of the bullshit before side eyeing Lynera. 

“You threW the alien into broad daylight? EVen for you, that's crazy.” He almost sounds surprised, before smiling sweetly, “NoW Who’s going to tolerate you?” 

Lynera sputters something, clearly offended, but Daraya cuts her off with a groan, 

“▲ they literally need sunlight to live Lanque ▼”

His face twists. “Are they a fucking plant?” 

“-no!!!" Lynera considers for a moment before yelling again just as loud. “-most likely not!!!”

He looks from your trio, to the small puddle of water forming under you, and glances back to the trail of water you apparently had dripping from you this whole time. 

You know, you’re really starting to see the plant angle here. 

“▲▲ look they just needed some stupid sunlight and we hung around to make sure they didn’t just get too cooked or whatever. What, are you going to tell Bronya on us? ▼▼" Daraya half mocks, half asks.

“No, of course not.” Lanque almost seems offended. “I don’t see any reason to inVolVe myself With you tWo Watching the alien give themselVes sun sickness.”

You ask no one in particular what sun sickness is.

“-can aliens get sun sickness???” Lynera asks with a newfound panic.

Lanque irritatedly replies, “HoW Would I knoW?” 

You feel briefly dejected that no one answered. Until another thought crosses your mind. It wasn’t related to anything occurring at the moment, but it was weird enough that you don’t know how this was the first time you had ever really thought about it. Maybe the events of this morning were what it took for you to even be able consider this quandary. 

Why do they say troll before a name? Like troll Will Smith? Doesn’t that imply there is another kind of WIll Smith? Like if they’re all trolls, why say troll? Oh shit, is that why they do it? Did you tell them about human Will Smith or would that be like human Whillh Smithh? Human Willhh Smyyth? 

You rack your mind for other ways of making Will Smith a valid troll name, concentration evident on your face. 

Lanque looks at you like you’re an idiot. “What the fuck are you talking about? You're just repeating the same name.”

The spelling? You narrow your eyes as you consider the spelling. It is the clearest thing in the world right now to you. It’s spelled different Lanque.

“I can’t hear how it’s spelled.”

Daraya’s eyes widen. "▲▲ They fried their fucking pan ▼▼ " 

You still don’t know what sun sickness is, but you strongly suspect you may have it, especially since most of what happened afterwards was kind of a blur. 

What you think you can remember is the sound of someone coming. Quick, determined footsteps that you couldn’t recognize, but Lynera clearly could as she stiffened first. She maybe said something about Bronya doing a curfew round? You think? Either way, it had everyone else on immediate edge and was enough for Lanque to decide this wasn’t worth staying awake for. He made a final comment and you heard a door shut, leaving your trio behind. 

Daraya and Lynera exchanged words, finally remembering the “whisper” part of whisper yelling. They came to an agreement of some sort with Lynera nodding and heading to her studyblock and Daraya going off in the direction of what was probably Bronya.

Mentally, you are pressing F to pay your respects. Physically though, you register your orientation rapidly shifting. While you weren’t crazy about your position over Lynera's shoulder, what with her sweater vest grating against your torso and all, it turns out you enjoyed being moved out of it even less. The blood running away from your head had you feeling woozy in a whole new way.

To her credit, Lynera did not just immediately dunk you into the recuperacoon a la Space Jam like you’re sure she wanted to. She instead carefully lets you sink into it with a gentleness that starkly contrasted her worry. Normally, you would say that being put into a vat of slime is not an experience you would be looking forward to. Right now though, you’re loving it. It is an absolute godsend as it acts a cool balm against your skin.

Lynera continues and gingerly removes your shades and places them on an end table next to your sunhat. You were about to thank her and let her know she was in fact “a real one,” but you got cut off by her grabbing a handful of slime and smearing it on your face. 

You sputter and instinctively try to move away, but you’re no match for her. She’s dealt with fussy grubs with sharp teeth for way too long to actually be deterred by your feeble efforts to resist. You don’t know how you’d rate the experience between, “children haphazardly covering you in slick grease paint” to “alien clay mask ensuring you don’t have enough skin to even entertain having clogged pores,” but you aren’t in a position to be opposed to it. It actually feels kinda nice when it’s in a smooth, even layer and not a huge fucking dollop on your face. 

When she’s done, she wipes her hands while saying something to you. You don’t really register it, so you just kinda smile and nod. It’s your usual go to when you aren’t quite sure what is happening around you and it hasn’t led you too astray in the very many times you’ve done it. You’ll just ask her what she said in the evening.

Lynera seems pleased and starts moving to turn off the lights. Before she does, you thank her. She smiles at you, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and glances back at you as she goes, leaving you feeling warm inside and out for two extremely different reasons. 

You settle down, trying to get cozy. You're not going to pretend you know much about sopor slime. You assumed it comes from a plant and haven't tried to confirm that little theory of yours because you need to believe that for your own sake. It's plant goo. From some kind of alien aloe vera or something. An extremely fleshy plant just ripe with goo for the taking. If you ever learn otherwise, no you didn't. 

After you wake up and wipe off the slime, you find that you’ve healed surprisingly quickly. You’re still very tender to the touch, you find that out real fast, but your skin looks a lot less irritated than when you last saw it. This bit of good news and vitamin d that you assume you now have coursing through your veins that hopefully was not mostly used up on healing your skin, puts a little pep in your step as you get ready for the night. Before you exit the caverns, you feel a pang of hunger.

You can practically hear Bronya reminding you how breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so you walk into the meal block, figuring that no one would mind too much if you grabbed a breakfast bar or two before you left. Maybe you’ll even get lucky and find the ones that kind of taste like peanut butter and are crunchy for reasons you’d rather not identify. You aren’t alone when you enter. Lanque is there, sitting at a table. He looks up from his palm husk and eyes you.

“Did you change color?”

Yeah. Humans being exposed to sunlight makes them create a protective pigment so they're more able to be exposed to the sun.

“I’m fascinated.” he says, anything but. “So you're going to turn jade?” 

No, more of a slightly darker version of what you are now. 

He hums, now totally disinterested and looking back down at his chittr feed. Guess the limits of your rainbowdrinker like attributes have worn off on him. 

Anyways, this just means that this will be easier next time you go out during the day. 

That statement gives him pause. Lanque looks up from his palm husk, looking out before glancing at you dubiously. 

"Next time?" 

[deobienthusiast]

office love

• pairing: lee jaehyun (the boyz) x reader

• word count: 1,684 words

• genre: fluffy, slight humor

• warnings: slightly suggestive

• notes: imagine working in an office with the boyz tho👀

requested: yes | no by @q-ianna

You always told yourself that you would never be one of those 9-5 office workers that sat in a cubicle all day long. You wanted to travel and see the world. Little did you know, that to travel the world, you needed to be seated in that cubicle. For four years, you have been working in the same cubicle with the same 12 co-workers, one of whom stood out to you more than the rest.

Lee Hyunjae was quite the character. With such an upbeat personality, he was the life of the office. Hyunjae was the first person you met when you started working at the office. He liked to be the center of attention. Not that you minded. Hyunjae made you feel so welcome when you first started to work here. He talked you through everything, would partner up with you for certain jobs, and even take you out for lunch or dinner, depending on how late the day became. You two built up quite the friendship, and along the way you developed feelings.

According to your other coworkers, Hyunjae felt the same way. You never believed them, however, the now constant flirting and small sexual innuendos that had made their way into your daily conversations with Hyunjae made you question whether he did feel the same way or not. Hyunjae was naturally a flirt, but he only just started to flirt with you. Maybe he was interested.

“Hello,” Juyeon, your coworker, said as he waved his hand in front of your face. “Are you even listening to me?”

You shook your head, snapping back into reality as you looked at the dark-haired boy. “I’m sorry, Juyeon. Did you say something?”

Juyeon huffed before following where your gaze was currently focused. He looked back at you and smirked. You raised an eyebrow at him before speaking.

“What?” You asked him.

He chuckled. “You know what? You were checking out Hyunjae.”

You rolled your eyes. “No I wasn’t.”

Juyeon scoffed. “Yeah sure.”

You turned back around in your chair so your back was to him before hearing someone speak.

“You know,” You heard a soft voice exclaim. “ You could just tell Hyunjae you like him. Rather than ogle him like a horny schoolgirl.”

Your eyes widened as you looked up at the top of your cubicle and made eye contact with Jacob. Jacob was a more soft-spoken worker. He wasn’t overly loud or insanely crazy, though he did have some spurts of wild in him every now and then.

“Will you shut the hell up!” You stated, making both Juyeon and Jacob laugh.

You went to focus back on your computer before hearing Juyeon speak.

“You know he feels the same way,” He started.

“Bullshit.” You countered, keeping your eyes on your computer screen.

Juyeon eyed you for a moment before giving a look to Jacob who disappeared back behind the walls of your cubicle. You worked diligently and quietly, unbothered by Sunwoo and Eric’s daily shenanigans before feeling a tap on your shoulder.

“I’m hungry. You want to go get some lunch with me?” Hyunjae asked.

You exited out of the spreadsheet you were working on as you turned around in your chair, a smile growing on your face when you made eye contact with Hyunjae.

“Yeah,” You stood you, grabbing your coat. “Let’s go.”

Hyunjae smiled at you as he waited for you to gather your things. You threw a goodbye to Juyeon and Jacob as you walked out the door, not being able to miss the snide ‘be safe’ that came from Juyeon which you knew for a fact had a double meaning.

You and Hyunjae decided on a little café just a couple of blocks from the office as you both got comfortable and ordered.

“So, how's the workload today?” Hyunjae asked.

You looked at him with a raised brow as you smirked. “You took me out to lunch to talk about work?”

Hyunjae chuckled, smiling. “Okay you caught me. How was your date last week? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

You nodded with a tight smile. “It was good.”

He snorted. “And by good, you mean terrible?”

You let out a laugh, making Hyunjae grin. “You can read me so well. He was insanely self absorbed. All he did was talk about himself. I’m never letting Changmin set me up with one of his college buddies again.”

Hyunjae took a sip of his drink as he nodded. “Changmin isn’t too fond of that guy anyway.”

You almost choked on your coffee. “Thanks for telling me that now.”

Hyunjae laughed. “You could always avoid getting set up on blind dates if you just find the right guy.”

“And is that your way of saying it should be you?” You looked up at him over the lid of your coffee cup, catching his strong gaze.

“Maybe it is.” Hyunjae said.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his tone. It was a questionable one as you couldn’t tell whether he was being a tease or being serious. Part of you hoped he was serious. You both ate and drank your coffees in silence before throwing away your trash. You wrapped yourself back in your coat before feeling Hyunjae grip your hand.

“Come on you. You’re taking too long.” He said with a teasing smile as he pulled on your hand.

Without realizing it, you two had managed to make it back inside the office hand in hand as Hyunjae walked you to your cubicle. You both were laughing at something Hyunjae had said about Sunwoo as you say in your chair. Hyunjae peeled off his jacket as he made his way over to his cubicle.

You logged into your computer before hearing someone clear their throat. You looked up and met the warm eyes of Jacob as he smiled.

“Someone had fun at lunch.” Jacob said with a grin.

You looked at him. “And what are you implying?”

He shrugged as he held his head up over the cubicle wall to look down at you.

“Something obviously happened.” You heard Juyeon counter behind you.

“Says who?” You said without turning around.

“Says the hand holding when you two walked through the door.” Jacob said before falling back into his seat when he saw your boss come out of his office.

You kept yourself busy as he walked around each cubicle, looking over the work. He studied Hyunjae for longer than usual as he tapped his shoulder before heading back to his office. You heard Hyunjae sigh as you watched him make his way to your boss’ office. The office stayed quiet, trying to listen in on the conversation before the door swung open. It was closed gently as you all watched Hyunjae stand outside the door. He took a deep breath before loosening his tie and heading for the break room.

You turned yourself around, trying hard to concentrate on the spreadsheets on your screen before giving into the nagging temptation to go check on him. Scooting back your chair, you quickly made your way to the break room. As you approached, you saw through the blinds, Hyunjae with his head in his hands.

You knocked on the door, closing it behind you as you entered. “Are you okay, Jae?”

Hyunjae lifted his head to look at you and smiled. “My consumer report came back. It’s not looking too good.”

You frowned, sitting down next to him. “That can’t be right. You’re our best salesman.”

He shook his head. “I guess I’ve been a little distracted this quarter.”

It was your turn to laugh as you watched him stand up and grab yet another cup of coffee. You watched him add an unreasonable amount of sugar that was likely to put him on the ground as he mixed it. He stared at the sugar coffee as you stood up, reaching for the glass.

“Okay, first. Don’t drink this,” You told him, pulling the glass away from him. “Second of all, what could possibly have you so distracted that you went from top of the sales to bottom of the sales faster than Jacob goes through the cereal?”

Hyunjae smiled before looking back at you. It was another look you weren’t used to, it was almost an admirable look.

“You,” He whispered quietly, hoping you wouldn’t hear him.

You cocked your head. “What?”

He repeated it, louder this time. “You. You’re distracting me.”

You felt yourself get slightly offended. “What do you mean I’m distracting you?”

Hyunjae could tell by your tone that you didn’t understand what he was saying as he decided to take matters into his own hands. He grabbed your hand, pulling you into him as he kissed you. You kept your arms on his chest, putting tension on your palms, almost as if you were trying to push him off before bringing them up to wrap around his neck. Hyunjae pulled away first, leaning his forehead on yours as he spoke through heavy breathing.

“You know, I would be good for you. I know so much about you. Too much if I may add,” You hit his chest as he continued with a laugh. “But I know for damn sure, I can treat you a hell of a lot better than anyone that those idiots out there try to set you up with.”

You grinned at him. “Could you now?”

He nodded as he leaned by your ear, nibbling on the lobe before whispering. “And I am confident that I could touch you better as well.”

You bit your lip to stifle your laughter as Hyunjae tightened his grip on you.

“Well then, I guess we’ll need to test that before I think about giving you a chance on a first date.” You said, feeling yourself being moved forward as you heard the break room door lock.

You giggled as Hyunjae closed the blinds. “Just try and keep the noise level down.”

You kissed him again as he lifted you on top of the small table. “Whatever, Hyunjae!”

Juyeon and Jacob would not let you live this down.

[serominee]

for the ask meme; nepeta :3c

Thank you for the ask anon I care you very <3

How I feel about this character

I ABSOULTELY ADORE HER!! She is definitely one of my favorite Homestuck characters ^^

All the people I ship romantically with this character

For pale rom, without a doubt Equius, I think a lot of us can agree they are one of the best pale rom relationships in the whole story. As for red and black rom... I really like Fefnep!! I can see Feferi being either Nepeta’s kismesis or matesprit honestly. I feel like in either scenario, Nepeta would help Feferi learn that to be a good ruler/leader you don't need to completely shelter and coddle your subjects as they have a right to their own autonomy. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Roxy Lalonde. Cat energy equinox and shared rogue trauma; what more could you ask for?  Ok but seriously I think they would be really good for each other as friends because I think their personalities would mesh really well imo. I actually have an au where Roxy wasn’t always asleep on her moon (and it was safe for her to be awake) and she was able to communicate with the derse dreamer troll ghosts. 

I also really like the friend trio of Tavros, Aradia, and Nepeta mainly for roleplaying shenanigans. I like these three best together specifically because I think that they understand each others boundaries best. I’m not sure why it but they definitely seem like those teenagers that you see at your local pizza shop after school and its like their daily place of congregation and you don’t really know what they’re talking about, but whatever it is they’re really damn passionate about it. (Haha projection go brr). 

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don’t... Okay I don’t really have a good reason for this because I know she is canonically short but I just. In my heart, she’s above average. Like the troll equivalent of 5′8″. 

Also this isn’t really an unpopular opinion I don’t think?? But I really wish she got more credit for being the way she was, seeing as how she was pretty much the most emotionally mature out of almost the whole cast? Idk I just think that she is pretty underrated in that aspect. When she got upset she never forced her will onto anyone and was always really respective of others, which in Homestuck is kind of a rare trait. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

LITERALLY ANYTHING. I’m sad we didn’t get to see more of her and I understand why we didn’t because she wasn’t as central of a character to the narrative as like the kids but I just miss her yk

Also I’m just saying,, she is a Rogue of Heart,, there could have been a funny body swap scenario. I know those types of tropes can go sour really easily if done wrong but if the swap-ees were fully consenting I can imagine some top tier pranks happening just sayin’

[advena87]

Kaer Morhen shenanigans (but mostly Lambert’s) part 5

.

Here is: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 and Daily Lambert

also Keira & Lambert’s love story, Aiden & Lambert’s love story and… this.

.

Geralt: How late is Lambert now?

Eskel: Two and a half hours.

Geralt: How did this happen? I called him at 8 o’clock this morning and pretended it was 11.

Eskel: I printed that fake schedule for him, saying we were starting at 9 instead of noon.

Berengar: Oh, and I set his clock to PM when it’s really AM.

Geralt:

Geralt: We may have overdone it.

Lambert: *bursts in* WHAT THE HELL TIME IS IT?!

***

Geralt: We saved our best idea for last.

Eskel: If it's your best idea, why did you leave it for last?

Lambert: Because we didn't know it was our best idea until our other ideas turned out to be terrible.

*moment later*

Geralt: It’s not illegal if you don’t get caught!

Eskel: We’re literally being chased by guards right now! How can you say that?!

Lambert: Yeah, yeah, whatever!

*an arrows comes flying towards them*

Lambert: Ooooh, it’s about to get fun!

Eskel: Lambert, NO.

***

Vesemir: What will this accomplish, Lambert? What are you trying to do?

Lambert: *shouting from the top of lungs* MY BEST!

***

Vesemir: WHY IS THERE BLOOD EVERYWHERE?!

Lambert: I may or may not have aggressively poked Geralt with a sword.

Vesemir: YOU STABBED GERALT?!

Lambert: No no, aggressively poked him with a sword.

***

Eskel: I have a question.

Vesemir: Hm?

Eskel: Is four a lot?

Vesemir: Depends on context - orens; no, murders; y-

Lambert: Murders also no.

Vesemir, hitting him with a newspaper: LAMBERT!

Lambert: WHAT?!

***

Vesemir: Our wolf school needs to find a way to cut down on expenses. Any ideas what we can live without?

Geralt: Lambert.

***

Geralt: Ok, so we have this plan-

Eskel: I’m not even going to try to give advice anymore.

Lambert: Okay, so we need a rock troll, a mallet, saltpeter and zerrikanian mix. Good?

Berengar: Good.

Geralt, Lambert and Berengar: *walk away*

Eskel:

Eskel: I’m so tired.

* A moment later , witchers just before setting the fuse on fire*

Eskel: This is a mistake...

Lambert: A mistake we're going to laugh about one day!

Geralt: But not today xD

Berengar: Oh no, today is gonna be a mess.

Eskel: You're not really scared, aren’t you?

Berengar: Not really. I’ve already lived longer than I expected.

*Lambert sets fire to the fuse. An explosion breaks the windows in the castle*

Vesemir, yelling: WITCHER LAMBERT OF KAER MORHEN WHERE ARE YOU?!

Eskel: Oh, you mean Lambert the biggest Idiot of Kaer Morhen? Lambert I-Have-No-Idea-What-I'm-Doing of Kaer Morhen? Lambert I-Probably-Shouldn't-Be-Allowed-To-Be-A-Witcher of Kaer Morhen? Lam-

Vesemir: Is he pulling some reckless magic bullshit with Geralt and Berengar again?

Eskel: TAKE A GUESS.

*A few moments later*

Berengar: Vesemir, I really don’t see the point in getting upset over spilt milk.

Vesemir: Why would I be upset? The entire east wing of castle will be unusable for the next fortnight and three of my witchers orchestrated it.

Lambert: Actually it was four. Eskel was there as well.

Eskel: Why would you say that?

Geralt: We just thought it would help cushion the blow if we distribute the blame.

Eskel: Cushion who?

Berengar: Us mostly.

*Later*

Berengar: Why is Lambert bleeding?

Eskel: Because he's an idiot.

Berengar: I didn’t know idiocy caused people to bleed from their nose.

Eskel: Me either, I think it's a new phenomenon.

***

Lambert: I know you hate our pranks but stick with me with this one, and I promise you, you will love it.

Eskel: Can you magically make everyone kind, sober, and fully dressed this time?

Lambert: Kind, Sober and Fully Dressed. Good news, everyone! I found the name of Eskel's sex tape.

*later*

Lambert: (wearing a mask and holding a knife) WE OFFER UP THIS VIRGIN, FLESH AND BLOOD.

Eskel: Lambert, I'm not a virgin.

Lambert: (stops) Huh. Life is full of surprises. 

***

Lambert: Why is my sword in the refrigerator?

Berengar: You said: “This is really gonna confuse me tomorrow”. Apparently drunk you plays pranks on hungover you.

Lambert: This explains so much

***

Eskel: Why are you speaking in third person?

Lambert: Because I’m so hungover that I don't even want to be myself anymore. What's should I change into?

Geralt: A better person.

Lambert:

Lambert: Try me bitch.

***

Vesemir: Imagine if somebody gave you a box full of everything you lost during your childhood.

Geralt: Wow, my innocence! Thanks for finding this!

Berengar: My will to live! Haven’t seen this in years!

Eskel: I knew I lost my potential somewhere!

Lambert: Mental stability, my old friend.

Vesemir: ...

Berengar: If you are wondering now whether you are a bad parent, then, well, you are.

 ***

Vesemir: Alright everyone, I have an announcement to make and only have a minute

Lambert: Are you in a hurry?

Vesemir: No, I was just referring to your short attention span. Now, since you won’t be able to contact me for a month, I’ve left a complimentary bowl of advice.

Vesemir: For example, “Lambert, stop doing that!” just applies to everything.

Lambert: Why does everyone assume the worst of me?

Berengar: It saves time.

***

Berengar: To the prick who stole my antidepressants, I hope you're happy now.

***

Geralt: What time is it?

Lambert: I don't know, pass me the beehive bomb we'll find out.

Lambert: * throws a bomb out the window *

Vesemir, screaming from the other room: WHO THE FUCK FIRED THE BOMB AT 2 AM?!

Lambert: It's 2 am.

***

Eskel: So, who will do it?

Geralt: Definitely not me.

Lambert: Shouldn't Vesemir do this?

Eskel: Give him a break. One of us must do it.

Lambert, taking a phone: Alright, let it be, I'll do it.

Funeral home employee, on the phone: You're calling to make arrangements for a loved one?

Lambert: No, actually I found a dead raccoon on the road and figured, if I don't honour him-

Employee: uhh...

Lambert: who will?

Eskel, facepalming: Oh, for the fuck's sake, Lambert!

Employee: uhhhh...

Lambert:  Just kidding.

Lambert: So my brother Berengar died.

.

[currentfandomkick]

Miraculous and the Batboys - Week 3

So i am back(ish) and I bring the Update. Editting is for those with patience and time that i lack. ao3 link HERE

--

A weekend dodging Gina was… eventful. Even moreso when celebrating ‘No More Gabriel Brand’ time was cut short by a barrage of akuma.

All weekend.

Marinette is convinced the man has too much free time.

She would admit (ONLY when no one else was around) that having someone else checking info during battles was nice. Out of the visiting bats, she had come to rank them from least to most irksome: Red Robin (most helpful), Nightwing (helpful), Red Hood (… he was slightly less annoying—he seems to understand she is the leader of the team) then Robin (who can’t get that she knows what she’s doing, AND hurts the minions more than necessary).

Okay, maybe she’s holding a grudge from when they first met (Tikki enjoyed reminding her of that new found habit—grudge holding) but you don’t go around calling a bunch of magic jewelry powered superheroes incompetent before finding out what they’re fighting and how they have to fight!

And yes, this is a hill she will die on.

Chloe and Adrien are in full agreement, well, Queen Bee and Chat Noir are.

“Are you sure we can’t just…” Chat gestured with his eyes to where Robin was perched at the edge, “just a little?”

Marinette didn’t answer him. She turned to Queen Bee. “You need to influence chaton less.”

“Never.”

--

Tim almost collapsed when he saw Marinette on her own. Why?

Because he was Certain that he saw a, a red thing—creature? Poke something out of her purse.

Red was Ladybug’s color. Yep. She’s. Yep—mini Red Robin hard since he’s pretty sure she’s avoiding someone too.

She was too—he knew for a fact she’s avoiding Gina excellently (either hiding at the hotel with Chloe, the teashop or one Adrien Agreste and his… legal cousin but Tim is certain there is something off about that with the Holy Doopleganger Batman! Vibe he got from checking out the pair’s apartment. He now had a fun thing to look into when he’s bored and tired of Hawkmoth Shenanigans).

She’s also… yep. Dodging a bunch of teens he’s certain are her classmates.

And… Damnit demon spawn!

--

Marinette managed to disentangle herself from class parkour (miraculous training as civvies) when she got a text from Damian.

Apparently he wanted to ask how she was handling the whole… Thing with Bustier and Lila.

She wonders if he’s dealt with bullying too, and was looking for advice. She was certain hers was crap, but she did say she’d be around so…

She met up with Damian not too far from the park at a café, nothing fancy, and waited for him to start once they’d placed their orders.

“I know it is a personal matter and not my place to ask, however I would like to know how you have managed to endure the repugnant behavior of our teacher and the harlot.”

Marinette forgot she should think before responding.

“Pretty sure whores and sex workers are paid. She’s more con artist for attention than anything else.”

She missed Damian’s response as the waiter put down their drinks and raised an eyebrow at them.

“Remember the girl that framed me a while back and tried to expel me the first Scarlet Moth round?”

“Ah.” The waiter turned to Damian then. “Don’t insult whore by putting them in with that, well, work and I see my boss so I can’t say what I want again, but we both know what she is, and whores are no where near that level. Politicians, most, whores? No.”

Marinette snorted into her drink as they left.

“And to answer your question, well, I don’t really have a choice.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at that.

Marinette could feel his eyes on her, but couldn’t meet their gaze with this topic. (It still hurt, even though it’s a been years since it began.)

“Lila had everyone charmed or uncertain if she was lying until two weeks ago. Bustier said I had to be a good example and class representative putting that above everything else in my life. Even though everyone knows I’ve been helping run three different businesses on top of handling my program and own business and clientele, and help take care of Fu with a few other small business kids. Nothing could come before the class’s harmony—nothing.”

Marinette took a small bite of her pastry.

“So I saw someone who could force her to listen or have to deal with actively and knowingly violating anti-akuma laws—something she’s only managed to narrowly avoid since, well,” Marinette gestured to herself. “I got tired of constant akumas in class and managed to convince the school board as my last act as class rep to require daily and weekly mental health checks and mitigate potential akuma triggers during weekly checks, daily being more ‘answer these questions honestly’ for stress levels. The system flags major changes, and the students affected see one of the counselors immediately to find ways around what’s bothering them.”

Marinette missed Damian staring at her for that, or how his mouth opened ever so slightly.

“When I stepped down, everyone noticed I wasn’t comfortable alone with Bustier, so it became a rule to stop it whenever they could. The other classes are field specialty and ours is the only one for people doing more than one program or close to.”

Marinette looked up at that with a  smile. “Fashion is my official program, but since I do so much business outside of school, I kept having to take classes to help out early on. I never enrolled in the program officially like Chloe did, but the school has me credited as able to graduate with both programs, so until they can justify opening another multi-program class, I’m not allowed to transfer out of the class and stay in Dupont.”

Her eyes hardened when she said, “And I’m not letting a liar and a Bustier be the reason I left the only school that’s willing to go as far as they have for me program-wise—especially not when I only have a year left.”

Damian nodded at that, deciding he’d have to sic Drake on the harlot either way… perhaps Todd and Gina too. He was feeling spiteful.

--

Marinette decided that when she meets Hawkmoth, she is not only punching him in the face, she is going to do, she doesn’t know exactly what (Tikki has a few ideas that Marinette is certain involve torture) but it will hurt.

Why?

Third akuma on a Sunday. THIRD! What is this man not doing that he was before? She wants to know since whoever freed up his time is on her list now.

Robin was being less annoying (re: tracking the akuma and leaving the minions less battered than usual) while Red Robin was helping the police evacuate affected areas with Nightwing. Somehow Red Hood got it in his head to stick with Chat for “on the job training” her team is trained asshole and she is debating how far she should go when they finish off Hawkmoth for good.

--

Monday was… interesting. The emancipation was approved—Adrien Agreste legally required no legal guardian.

When Gabriel tried to fire Gorilla, well, Adrien pointed out Gorilla had been in Adrien’s employ this whole time as mother hired and paid him from her accounts. Which transferred to Adrien when she was declared dead.

Marinette dreaded the akuma Hawkmoth might cook up using Gabriel. How he wasn’t akumatized again was anyone’s guess.

Class was…

“So last night Damiboo said—“

Marinette put her head on her desk, and decided to raise an eyebrow at a… for some reason ill-looking Damian.

“Is it because you guys share a name?”

Damian blinked.

Adrien turned around then. “Or because someone has commitment issues.”

Marinette squinted at Adrien because… “What?”

Nino sighed. “Adrien is on another MatchMaker spree.”

“ah. Who are the victims?”

“Not touching it dudette, not touching it.”

Marinette snorted. “It’s not like he’s going to match anyone with well,” Marinette gestured at herself.

“Your infamous army.”

“They are not an army.”

“How many ‘relatives’?” Nino used air quotes.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. “Well under a hundred thousand, so not an army.”

“I am counting the fans.”

Marinette scoffed. “They do not count.”

“They do, and I’m pretty sure Adrien’s fan girl army is applicable.”

“Okay, just because they made up titles and help out during akuma evacs does not make them an army—they’d need weapons training, clear chain of command, coded strategies—”

“And the fact you know this only proves my point, you have an army.”

“Who has an army?” Chloe asked as she walked over.

“Marinette.”

“I do not!”

“You do,” Chloe agreed. “Kim!” the boy looked over at that. “Marinette’s ‘family’ is a small army.”

“I, yes?” Kim’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Any one that picked her up had how many knives on them when we were kids?”

Damian turned to her with a suspicious eye.

She blushed. “Nonna’s friends.”

Damian nodded slowly.

Marinette wondered if the earth could just… swallow her up now.

--

The rest of the week was in a similar vein. Constant attacks, the batboys helping, her class being weirdly fixated on her family (they aren’t violent, just… prepared.)

Her gymnastics classes were a godsend, and her instructor was checking up on her more than usual, but that might be her more or less running her own classes and lessons as she worked out her routine, music choice, and requirements for her teammates and partners for her routines on trapeze.

Tim was around more. He got it in his head that she needed “guidance” (and okay, she does) on how to conduct corruption investigations into the whole company’s practices and staff.

Then there was Damian being… distant? She was busy but they weren’t talking as much as they were at first and fine, whatever, she got it. She’s not someone he wants to be around…. It happens.

It just… hurts a little is all.

At least she had Adrien and less secrets there. He was fixated on Damian having “commitment issues” and she thinks he’s trying to set him up with someone (Chloe maybe? Why else would he be this focused…. It’d be interesting explaining she’s pretty sure Chloe like girls better than boys and that Damian isn’t her type. At a later date—she’s too busy to now).

Then she had chores and was called in for a hearing on Bustier which was… interesting…. (her duties weren’t too bad for class president. she wasn’t making lesson plans or anything. The role model and forgiving everyone for hurting her and being told to let Lila walk all over her for years was not okay at all, but any teacher would have said that, right?)

Oh and Gina was now convinced Marinette needed protection and now semi-stalking her (Jason was weirdly close to Jason now and talking to him a lot). So random Grandma Attacks when she wanted to draw in Peace.

Lord Murder was her best stress buddy, and Gina is now well acquainted her. She was also given Gina’s Seal of Approval to take over her house for the purposes of keeping Lord Murder and staying there once her current tenants were out (no seeing it until then… unfortunately. She did get dimensions for cat things though. she may browse a bit obsessively… only a bit.)

--

Tim froze when he ran into Jason with Civilian Chat Noir. And a giant man (Gorilla). At their base. Playing videogames.

“Hey Tim, this is Adrien, Adrien, Tim. Adrien is your mini’s buddy and this is the guy that keeps the harpies away, Gorilla—yes he refuses to tell me his real name—and they’re family now. B can suck it.”

Adrien waved at him before turning back to the game. “I have no idea why he keeps saying that.”

Tim took a deep breath. Apparently adopting strays was just another Bat-thing. “So its nurture, not nature.”

Damian came out, sighed when he saw the group still there, and took a drink into his room while saying. “I did not adopt him.”

Adrien looked back at him then. “You have too many commitment issues to. Don’t worry, though, I’m good at destroying pesky problems like that.”

Tim blinked at that.

Damian sighed as they had this conversation too often now. At school and apparently, his home now. “I am not going to—”

“That’s just your fear talking—we both know that.” Adrien spoke like he was talking to a petulant child. “Why don’t you text your friends and see what they think since I already know the answer and you need more convincing.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Jon thinks you are annoying.”

“I’m a delight.” Adrien turned back to his game then.

Jason grinned proudly next to him. A bit too much like a proud parent for Tim’s comfort. (He may also be realizing his keep-his-mini-from-Damian-dating may end up in vain thanks to one Adrien Agreste(?))

--

Dick sent Bruce exactly (1) update: You are a grandpa now—Jason has a blond cat-hero son who can’t dodge.

Bruce may have had a small heart attack as now he has a magic grandson that he never met, apparently controls raw destruction, and is deeply traumatized. (It was the grandpa part that freaked him out—the rest is par for the course as Batman. He’s a Grandpa Alfred—he’s too young for his children to pull a him and adopt tiny traumatized children and train them into (heroes) vigilantes. Alfred stop laughing, he’s being serious!)

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

HEY so thanks for patience with the updates as life is Extra Hell now between puppy training when i'm finally home and work being Extra Hell with longer shifts and more to do during.

And before anyone asks about the peacock!marinette thing, look at the two series I have going with Bronywn as those are ongoing as my stress writes.

Any preferences for next update? Open to ideas as my mind is too stressed to do more than work off a prompt of some kind for the time being, and next to none of this story has been planned so far, so ideas are very welcome to keep it moving forward.

--

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @littleredrobinhoodlum @northernbluetongue @kceedraws @pirats-pizzacanninibles @theatreandcomicfreak @daminett4life @catthhay @weird-pale-blonde-person @amayakans @chocolatecatstheron @tired-butterfly @multplelifes @yin-390 @area51qt @toodaloo-kangaroo @bzz75 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @daminett4life @smolplantmum @karategirl119 @goblinwhoships @melicmusicmagic @maribat-is-lifeblood @spartanxhunterx @maribat-is-lifeblood @toodaloo-kangaroo

[gloves94]

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 10

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Fluff! Angst!

Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding War… But what would happen if she dares defy the Dark Lord and his wishes? And what happens when she falls for her tormentor? Will Nel fulfill her life’s purpose? And what side will her tormentor, Draco Malfoy, choose? The light that calls to him or the darkness…

CHAPTER MASTERLIST MY MASTERLIST

"Malfoy?" Tracey said loudly.

Nel nodded her head bitterly, arms crossed over her chest as the two made way to the dinning hall for dinner.

"Draco Malfoy?" She repeated in her obnoxiously loud voice. It seemed like his name was the only word she was capable of saying because of the shock.

"Shush!" She elbowed her friend. Throwing a suspicious glance around the corridor hoping nobody else had heard.

"And why- are you doing this again?"

"Because he knows something about my past and I'm pretty sure it's true. Trust me I'd much rather write to his father personally and ask or drug him with some veritaserum but even then the potion doesn't guarantee us any answers."

The two sat down on the table and put their bags aside when Theodore came running into the Great Hall and practically slid in the seat across from them.

"You're going to Hogsmeade with MALFOY?!" He exclaimed. He seemed to be out of breath.

Nel's eyes scanned the room. "Wow, news sure does travel fast 'round here," she shook her head.

"Are you okay?" He asked concerned. "Are you ill? Dying?" He reached over the table and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Just dandy," she grumbled irritated before sticking a potato into her mouth.

"How'd you know?" Tracey arched an eyebrow as she drank her pumpkin juice.

"Malfoy was bragging to the lads back at the dormitory."

Nel rolled her eyes. "Of course," She shook her head.  "Those idiots are only fascinated by me because they think I'm related to Salazar Slytherin."

Nel's bored expression fixed across the dinning hall to a very awkward interaction between Lupin and Snape. Nott and Davis blinked at each other exchanging a look.

"But you are-" They said in unison.

"Nope, I'm not," she said more in denial before getting her mouth busy and taking a huge bite out of a bread roll. Being related to Slytherin himself meant being related to You-Know-Who and that… That was not possible. It wasn't something Nel wanted to even think about it.

"But you are-" Tracey insisted. "You're a Parselmouth."

"So?" She retorted irritated. "So's Potter and he's not related to Slytherin as far as we know."

"Yeah, but You-Know-Who gave it to him." "Well maybe he did something to me to!" She snapped at her two friends. The two inched away from her exchanging a worried look. "Sorry," She lowered her head and put her utensils down after her outburst. "This… This is why I'm entertaining Malfoy. Maybe the persons who left me at the abbey, maybe they were my parents. It's a big clue." She explained.

Theodore and Tracey had no choice but to agree.

It was then that mail was delivered and her owl, Barberry, came swooping down dropping two letters in front of her. The first was from Professor Lupin, it was written in his  perfect loopy handwriting that slanted to the right.

"Ms. Saintday, Please meet me at my office after dinner. It is important. Thank you. - Professor R. Lupin."

Her friends commented on what could Lupin possibly want with her. She shrugged and regardless met the professor's eyes across the table and nodded.

The second letter was written in a familiar sharp handwriting.

"E, Front of the castle. Tomorrow. Noon. - D'

"Ooooh, how mysterious," Tracey joked reading over her shoulder. "I wonder who  D could possibly be," she said sarcastically.

Who did he think he was kidding?

She turned to seek Draco's eyes in the Great Hall and when she met them she crumbled the note up with her hand. He simply raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. The slightest of curves on his lips.

Whatever, she left the dinning hall ready to meet Professor Lupin in his office.

Arriving at Lupin's office she was surprised to find Harry Potter there instead.

"Let me guess," She began. "Lupin cited you as well?" She said closing the door behind her. Swaggering down the steps of the DaDa office and sitting on top of a nearby trunk.

"Is it true you're going to Hogsmeade with Malfoy?" He asked bluntly.

Nel sighed and raised her head back before letting out a loud frustrated groan. Now even the Gryffindor boys new. IT wouldn't be long before Pansy found out and came to murder Nel. Best to be prepared for that.

"It's a long story," She rubbed her tired eyes. "He's holding something over me," she admitted quickly changing the topic. "Why is everyone so intrigued by the fact that we're going to Hogsmeade? It's not even a big deal," she shrugged.

How could anyone not be intrigued by the two of them going to Hogsmeade? Draco was the unofficial Prince of Slytherin and Nel was the potential sole living descendant of Salazar Slytherin. She was a hostile blood traitor, who kept everyone at arms length and was infamously known for her ill temper and distaste for the Slytherin boys. Specially for Malfoy whom she was usually clashing with on the daily.

"Maybe because you two hate each other? Everybody knows that."

He wasn't wrong.

"Thank you," he added. "For what you did in class the other day, but I can fight my own battles."

She huffed slightly yet said nothing. He shouldn't flatter himself like that. She really hadn't done it for him. Maybe it was best to let him think that.

"Do you recon we're in trouble?" She asked changing the topic. After all Lupin had caught her passing notes in class just the other day.

"No Ms. Saintday, nobody's in trouble. Which considering your reputation, you might find quite surprising," he smiled at her as he opened the door. She turned away from him and made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat.

"You're probably wondering why I've gathered you two here tonight. I know it's a Friday, so I won't hold you here long," Lupin began making his way across the office. "Do you remember the lesson we had on Boggarts?" He said to the two.

Both students nodded. How could they forget? It was an awesome class. It was the most fun they had ever had in any class.

"Boggarts are shape-shifters. They take the shape of whatever a particular person fears the most. That is what makes them so terrifying," he explained.

"Professor, we already know this," Saintday interrupted with an irate look on her face. Could he just get to the point already?

"Patience Ms. Saintday," Lupin paused at the interruption. "I'm afraid you didn't get a chance at the Boggart that day, perhaps you'd like to give it a shot now?"

Nel thought of her worst fears. She eyed a trunk across the room which was violently shaking. Whatever was being kept inside desperately trying to escape. "I think I'll pass," she mumbled.

"The two of you are here since you are particularly susceptible to Dementors all things being considered, Dementors force us to relieve the worst memories of our lives. Our pain becomes their power. Which is why the two of you fainted on the train," Harry turned to look at the teen in surprised. Nel almost looked wounded by Lupin's words. She looked away from both, lowering her eyes.

Her background wasn't something she particularly enjoyed talking about.

"This is very advanced magic. Well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level," Lupin stated clearly eyeing both of the students carefully.

Why did Lupin want them both to learn how to fight Dementors? Certainly every student was in danger of Sirius Black and of the Dementors that were pursuing them, but why them two specifically? Nel understood his reasoning for brining Harry in, but her? Why would either Sirius Black or Dementors want anything to do with her? "Very well, the spell I am going to teach you is called the Patronus Charm. Ever heard of it?" He said to both.

Harry shook his head no. Nel nodded yes. Lupin extended his hand for her to elaborate. "The Patronus Charm is a spell which main but not only use id the primary protection again Dementors and other dark creatures for which there is no defense. There are two types of Patronuses. Corporal and Incorporeal." "Excellent Ms. Saintday, 10 points Slytherin. Any 6th years amongst your clients?" Lupin teased.

She shot him a look at him butting into her personal business and he chuckled a little at her hostility.

"But that's not quite it. A Patronus is a kind of positive force. For the witch or wizard who can conjure one, the Patronus works  something like a shield.  The Dementor feeds on it instead of him," Lupin paused as the trunk across the room rattled violently. "But in order for it to work, you must think of a memory. And not just any. This memory needs to be a very happy one. And powerful." His honey eyes darted between the two students before him.

"Think of your happiest memory and come back tomorrow after lunch. We'll begin then."

With that Lupin dismissed them.

"Know what your happiest memory is?" Harry asked as the two returned to their individual house dormitories.

"Yeah," She lied.

She had no idea.

Xxxxx

Nel didn't get much sleep last night. She had spent all night wondering just what her happiest memory was. She hated coming to the realization she didn't have one… At least not a strong one that would ward away a dementor.

All happy memories at Wool's were tainted with the memory of Lucy which in turn made them painful for her. And at Hogwarts… Sure maybe there was the memory of the day she visited Diagon Alley for the first time. Maybe even when she became friends with Tracey and Theodore, and just overall their general shenanigans.

There was one unique memory that was different from the others. It probably wouldn't be enough, but so far it was the best she had.

Xxxxx

It was Christmas even last year, 1992.

Nel had spent the evening celebrating with Harry, Hermione, Ron and his family. They had been nice enough to include her considering both her and Harry always stayed back during the winter break.

The group had been playing with sparklers and throwing snowballs at each other in the courtyard after an early. Overall it had been a fun evening. It was late when they decided to return to the Gryffindor common room, a place where she wasn't allowed. She suspected the party would go on there, but for now she was simply happy to not have been alone.

"Black Mamba," She spoke to the password which allowed her in. It was late, almost midnight by the time she got back. Walking into the emerald and black common room she was surprised to see Malfoy sitting by himself on one of the leather sofas.

It seemed like this holiday the only Slytherins that stayed behind were her, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

She thought it was odd that he had stayed behind. Yet she didn't question it simply not caring enough but looking at him he looked absolutely miserable. She approached him partly to get a better look at him.

He was hunched over with his head buried in his hands. Hearing her footsteps, he looked up and glared at her.

"Lost something Slugbreath?" He insulted defensively.

She kept her curious eyes on his. His face was swollen and tinted with red. Had he been crying? It was probably the first time he was away from home and alone for Christmas. She wouldn't have been surprised if the brat had really been crying.

"Are you okay?" She ignored the insult.

He looked at her surprised, taken aback by the question. Part of him was expecting her to take it back and boldly mock him.

"What do you care anyways?" He snapped kicking the low table in front of him.

He was most definitely not okay.

"Come," She said to him.

She was so used to his harsh tone and language she simply hummed, shoving her hands in her pockets before walking away back to the entrance of the common room.

He paused not moving an inch. He wasn't certain if she had really been speaking to him or not, but who else could she have meant? His father had asked him to remain at Hogwarts stating home wasn't safe due to the raids the Ministry of Magic was performing. Lucius also had to keep a trustful eye at Hogwarts now that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. "Are you coming or not?" She called over her shoulder.

Thinking himself crazy Draco decided to follow her out of the room. Nel lead her down the dungeon's corridor and took several turns in the darkness before stopping before a small door. The door was big enough for a small person to walk through.

"Where are you taking me?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow still wearing an air of superiority around her. "This is where I'm hiding your body…" She said mysteriously.

He gave a step back, certainly not doubting this. "Just kidding!" She laughed before opening it and walking through.

The two entered the kitchen where long tables resembling the Great Hall stretched from one end to the other. Shelves and large pantries were stacked with food and other ingredients against the wall. And just around the door were dozens of small cots with tiny people sleeping on them. But wait- they weren't people, they were house elves.

"You've brought me to the servant's quarters?" Malfoy said wrinkling his nose in disgust. His eyes looked around the room pretentiously as if he had walked into a dumb instead of a kitchen. Nel doubted the boy had ever been inside of a kitchen.  

"Shh!!!" She hissed him as a sleeping elf nearby stirred in his sleep. She tilted her head forward and the two advanced further into the kitchen.

She moved around the kitchen with expertise knowing were the bread and all other ingredients were located. Draco watched carefully as she prepared two sandwiches with the most peculiar ingredients turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing and- "Do you like cranberry sauce?" She stopped and whispered to him. He simply shrugged indifferent to it.

He wasn't watching out of intrigued. He was worried that she would attempt to poison him.

The two left the kitchen as quietly and as quickly as they got there. He now followed her upstairs. She held both of the large sandwiches which she had wrapped in paper in her hands.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked as they stood outside the Great Hall. By now he seemed to have forgotten about whatever had been bothering him earlier.

She shrugged carelessly, almost like he had when she had asked him if he liked cranberry sauce or not.

"Why not? It's Christmas Eve, good deeds count extra tonight. And let's be real, I've been pretty bad this year," She smiled a little. "I've got a lot of self-redemption to do." She was lying and he wasn't biting. She knew what it was like to be alone, specially during Christmas. She knew how painful it could be to be so lonely. "I don't need your pity," he narrowed his eyes in mistrust. "Fine," She shrugged again and handed him his sandwich with eyes filled with contempt. "Have it your way." She said before turning away and back in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories.

"No, wait-" He reached for her arm holding her back. The thought of being alone on Christmas was haunting to him. He felt lonely and Crabbe and Goyle weren't always the best company to keep around. Maybe she was being sincere. It was a risk he'd have to take.

Nel opened the door to the Great Hall and stepped in, he followed and marbled at the decorations. In the absolute darkness of the night the massive tree at the end seemed to be glowing with hundreds of golden lights. The night sky was still enchanted to make it seem as if snow was falling down. Yet the stars were still visible above. "Pretty. Isn't it?"

Without another word Nel took a seat on top of a dining table and unwrapped her sandwich. After a long day of throwing snowballs this was just what the doctor had ordered. He did the same neither saying much. He eyed his sandwich oddly, it actually looked disgusting.

"I'm a terrible cook," She said in between bites. "But I make the best sandwiches," she stated awfully proud of her monstrous creation.

He took a bite out of it hesitantly. He'd never had anything like it.

"This is actually not bad," he said thoughtfully.

"Thanks, it's a leftover sandwich. Leftovers of anything Crabbe and Goyle didn't finish anyways." Both shared a laugh.

Draco's mind still twisted over her reasons for doing this. Nel wasn't the type to believe in any redemptions. At least not from what he'd learned about her in the past two years. She was more stubborn than anyone he knew, wasn't the kind of person to change her mind about things just like that. She must've seen something in him that seemed personal to her.

"I'll never get tired of looking at this tree," She said interrupting his train of thought. "Back at Wool's we get a small one every year. Skinny pitiful thing, with almost no branches. It always tilts to the sides due to the tacky pink ornaments that Wool uses."

"Wool's?" He asked confused.

He noted that her ears turned red from over sharing and she took a large bite out of her sandwich stuffing her mouth so she wouldn't speak any more. He gathered that was probably the orphanage where she lived.

"Hey, you better not get any funny ideas Saintday," he spoke in that snappy bitter tone he was known for. She looked at him oddly yet thankful he hadn't further pressed about her slip. "This doesn't mean that we're friends got it?" His eyes were glued to the massive tree at the center of the Great Hall. She couldn't help but smile a little at this, "Wouldn't dream of it Malfoy."

The next morning Nel was surprised to actually find some gifts underneath her tree. It was nothing grand of fancy, regardless she was touched by the gestures. Theodore had gotten her some ink and parchment for the year, something that would be most useful to her in her business affairs. A Quidditch poster from Tracey which she suspected was a gift for her and not for Nel. Regardless she hung it up between their beds to make her friend happy.

She'd knitted some gloves for the two of them. They weren't perfect but she was hoping they'd do just the trick in keeping them warm for the rest of the winter.

She had agreed to meet the Gryffindors for breakfast. Exiting the common room, she was surprised to see Malfoy standing in the common room.

"There you are," he said with his arms crossed over his chest. There seemed to be an annoyed look on his face.

She flashed him a confused look. Had he been waiting for her? Were they actually friends now?

"Crabbe and Goyle left for breakfast already," He uttered as if explaining why he was there standing alone. "They found this outside in the corridor. It has your name on it," he signaled to a large box that had been placed on the low table. She eyed the box carefully. The gift-wrapping paper was wrapped with precision and bore a rich checkered emerald and black diamond pattern that was tied together by a thick black ribbon. There was a square tag at the top that had Nel Saintday scrawled on it in sharp handwriting.

She looked at the gift completely stunned.

"Thanks for holding it for me," She said awkwardly still being unable to remove her eyes from the gift. She didn't know what was inside, but she had certainly never seen maybe even touched a box that was wrapped so beautifully. "I'll take it back to my room-"

"No-," He said rather quickly. She arched an eyebrow at his odd behaviors. "Open it here," he pulled out his wand. "It could be cursed."

She let out a small laugh. Yeah right. As if somebody would try and curse her. She wasn't Harry Potter of anyone important. However, one could never be too safe. Maybe the Weasley twins had send it to her- or maybe it had been Harry, but she doubted that they would get her something this nice.

"I guess you're right," She said dropping her knees on the carpet and slowly undoing the ribbon and wrapping with care. She didn't want to ruin it. She also wasn't sure if she should keep the wrapping or not.

There was obviously a black box inside. Hesitantly she reached for it and removed it from the table. Curious to what was inside. Wincing and preparing for the worst she opened it. However, nothing happened. No harm was done. Inside was a piece of clothing wrapped in more paper. More layers? Again, she undid it carefully and pulled out a black jumper. It was probably the softest fabric she had ever touched. It almost felt unreal or like how'd she would imagine touching a cloud would feel like.

"This is..."  She gasped feeling the texture in between her fingertips.

"It's made from Vicuña, the world's softest fabric. Way better than cashmere," Malfoy said smugly peering over her shoulder. "You can tell?" She marveled at his ability to be able to tell just with his sight.

"It doesn't say who it's from," She said looking under the many wrappings.

"Do you like it?" Malfoy asked in an uninterested tone.

"Do I like it?" She repeated her voice almost breaking. "I've never had anything half as decent as this in my life," she hugged it close to her chest. "I almost feel like it'll melt in my arms," she laughed weakly. "Look! Touch it!" She said moving the fabric close to him beaming. He raised his hand and denied it with a bored look on his features. "I'm almost afraid to wear it. What if I ruin it?" She rambled anxiously as her mind wondered to who would’ve taken the time to get her such a thoughtful gift. She was more than touched. She was elated. She could’ve cried at the gesture if the boy hadn’t been there. It was the first time that she had something that was hers and truly hers alone. It hadn’t been owned by anyone before, it didn’t have any signs of tear or wear. It was hers. It might as well have been made out of cotton or wool and she would’ve been just as moved by the gesture.

Draco had just in time snatched the card that had her name written on it. He hadn't noticed that the back of it read 'For Draco, Love Mum. Happy Xmas'

That had been a close one.

"Who do you think sent it?" She wondered out loud. "Do you think it was Professor Snape?"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at her reasoning. Snape? Really?

"Does it matter?" He said irritated.

"I just want to thank them. Maybe give them something nice?" She said concerned before turning her attention back to the box. "It has to be someone that I know… Obviously!"

Malfoy wasn't going to be much help, but maybe Fred and George could help her figure it out. Draco glanced around the room nervously. What would she do if she knew it had been him?

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even realize she was on her way out of the Common Room sweater I hand.

"I best be off. See you around. Happy Christmas!" She called over her shoulder with a broad smile before exiting the room.

She didn't hear but the boy stood there alone.

"Happy Christmas…" he said more to himself.