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belliesandburps · 3 years

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Our Favorites Handling Bellyaches

I imagine that a lot of our favorites tend to deal with indigestion in very different ways, which can lead to amusing and appealing scenarios. And since folks tend to enjoy these posts most, figured I’d whip up a new one for y’all. :P

And for the sake of not going insane, I’ll keep it to one character per series:

Leona Kingscholar (Twisted Wonderland): Leona has a really strong stomach and canonically stuffs himself constantly. A full belly tends to just make him really sleepy. But every once in a while, given his love of exotic, expensive foods, Leona eats something that doesn’t agree with his stomach. This usually kills his ravenous appetite and leaves his usually concave, slightly toned stomach looking a little puffed out and gurgling deeply. When this happens, Leona will hiss to himself with a mildly strained and annoyed look on his face, really firmly rubbing his belly with one hand; firm enough that he’s riding his shirt up and exposing his tanned middle while his fingers really dig into it to settle it down, hissing about his indigestion being a huge pain in his ass, as always. He’ll give a few guttural burps, trying to ease as much pressure in his belly as he can, but they tend to get more rumbly and wet-sounding if he’s feeling mildly nauseous, which don’t bring him any relief. And if he’s letting a few out in a row, Leona may end up burping so hard that his throat hitches, and he immediately clamps his mouth shut, as if he’s about to throw up. It eventually passes, but that’s the telltale sign that he’s gotta ease up. Fortunately, if the Prefect catches him pretending his gut isn’t bothering him, they’ll start rubbing his burbling belly which never fails to calm it down. He’ll groan about how Herbivores are good for something besides eating, and give a familiar ‘rumble’ in his chest that, if the Prefect ever uttered a word to anyone else about...would be the death of them. Fortunately, if they relax Leona enough, he’ll be too busy catching a much needed catnap to maim them. On the veeeeery rare instance where Leona DOES eat too much, his belly will be spiling out to the point where it’s completely hiking up his shirt and forcing him to spread his thighs apart because that’s how much food it will take to actually give Leona a bellyache. In that instance, Leona will be groaning miserably and punctuating his fullness by burping so forcefully that the ground itself feels like it quivers. When he’s that full and feeling his belly churning so hard it hurts, Leona will groggily call out to whoever he can, be it the Prefect or Ruggie, whoever gets to him fastest. Then he’ll demand they rub his belly or he’ll swallow them whole the first chance he gets. Ruggie tends to get cheeky and when he does, Leona shuts that shit down by grabbing him by the throat and burping enormously in Ruggie’s face, leaving Ruggie coughing while Leona growls that he can still make room for dessert.

Katsuki Bakugou (My Hero Academia): Bakugou canonically loves extra spicy food, downs a lot of soda and tends to eat very ravenously. He’s smart enough to know his limits, but he’s a stubborn lil timebomb sometimes, and will always eat past his limits to spite anyone who ever said he couldn’t. And that usually leaves him groaning miserably while his bulging, churning belly groans intensely from being so abused. When he’s overstuffed and suffering indigestion, Bakugou will slump back in his seat miserably, tug his tanktop up and firmly run his hands up and down his bloated middle, hoping to ease the cramps in his stomach lining. While rubbing, Bakugou will press down on his belly and work up some really deep, throaty belches. These are really thick, hefty sounding burps that give him a sliver of relief, until he eventually slaps his belly as hard as he can and burps so loudly that you’d swear there was an earthquake. And THOSE monsters always leave his toes curling and his head lulled back with a loud, relieved moan and a satisfied pat to his taut, rounded belly. If he ate something that didn’t agree with him, then like Leona, Bakugou’s abs thin out and get very mildly bloated and feel like they’re vibrating with how hard his belly churns. Bakugou gets even pissier than usual, snapping at people to fuck off, but groaning miserably the whole while. He’ll knead into his gut firmly, always tugging his shirt up and exposing his bare belly while he tries to circulate the gas up with his firm touch. Bakugou always tries to burp out the nausea, desperate to work up the biggest belch he can to bring some desperately needed relief. He’ll slap his exposed belly repeatedly until the gas comes out forcefully, or gulp down air to belch on command, which he can do loud enough to give some relief. But on rare occasions, he’s burped too hard and ended up vomiting profusely instead. He always gets really angry if that happens and threatens to explode the living shit out of anyone who looks down on him for throwing up.

William James Moriarty (Moriarty the Patriot): William has a pretty strong stomach, because everything about him is measured and disciplined. And he has nerves of absolute steel, which means anxiety never becomes a factor. However, William is no stranger to vices. He’s quite partial to sweets and though he isn’t a heavy drinker the way Sebastian is, anytime he and Sherlock go out to the pub, Liam can’t help but get competitive with his soulmate. Or he eats something exotic that simply doesn’t agree with him. If he drinks too much, William actually ends up getting the hiccups. One of the only times Sherlock has ever seen his beloved Liam blush was when a loud, high-pitched *HIC!!!* erupted from the young mathematicians mouth, leaving him covering his lips with slightly widened eyes. After that, William tries to keep his hiccuping stifled with his mouth closed. This causes his stomach to jerk around a lot, which doesn’t sit well for the poor red-eyed devil, especially if he’s got a belly full of beer, sloshing around inside the organ heavily. That can lead to some hiccups turning into deep “hiccurrrrps” instead, which rumble in his mouth audibly. Anytime he muffles a belch in his mouth brought on by all the spasms, William will excuse himself under his breath, and try to hold said breath so the hiccup-fits pass, subtly massaging his stomach or throat if he’s hiccuping too much. If he just ate something that didn’t agree with him, William’s mask-like face won’t give much away. He’ll still appear blank, even smiling at you as needed. But if you look carefully, you’ll see beads of sweat forming from how badly his stomach is aching. The gurgles it gives aren’t loud, but they’re forceful. He’ll carry on like nothing’s wrong, and when no one is looking, subtly use his fingertips to knead circles into his belly to try and settle it down. Or he’ll turn to some of Louis’ much-needed tea to try and settle his gut. If Louis hears Brother William comment on his stomach giving him grief, he’ll take it upon himself to rub William’s belly to make it feel better (not in "that” way because...hell-fuck-no). If SHERLOCK hears William comment on a bit of indigestion, he’ll have more fun with it, unbuttoning Liam’s shirt and exposing his lean stomach as they sit down together in private with Sherlock rubbing Liam’s belly sensually and occasionally resting his ear against William’s warm stomach, listening to it gurgle and making some analytical comments on the sounds and what it says about Liam. Sherlock is surprisingly delicate when rubbing Liam’s belly, but he’s got a cheeky side, so he’ll occasionally knead a little harder and get William muffling a much deeper belch so he can tease him. William will get back at him by smiling and very gently asserting that Sherlock must have some kind of fetish, getting him sputtering, and William back in control as always. :P

Natsu Dragneel (Fairy Tail): Of all the characters on this list, Natsu’s the one we’ve canonically seen suffering from bellyaches the most. He gets them from motion sickness, and can get them from eating way too much. If he’s feeling nauseous because he’s on a train or a caravan, his abs puff out slightly, but of the bunch, Natsu is the most overt and crippled by his aching belly. Whereas Leona is annoyed, William is subtle and Bakugou is really gassy, Natsu is groaning miserably, green in the gills, and puffing out his cheeks like he’s on the verge of vomiting at any moment. He’ll whine and whimper pitifully, begging Lucy for belly rubs, and she’ll always give it to him, unable to say no...aaaaaaaand not wanting to see him puke his guts out. XD He’ll rest his spiky head on Lucy’s shoulder, huffing breathlessly while she very carefully navigates his abs with her fingertips, kneading and caressing that rock-hard belly while he groans, both in pain AND in pleasure. But from time to time, he gets a really bad stomachache from just eating WAY too much. In doing so, he’s sporting a huge, jiggling gut which sloshes heavily with every step he takes, since the fire in his belly works down his meals way faster than an average person. He’ll announce how overstuffed he is with a giant belch, and a miserable groan. Like the first instance, Natsu will be whining at Lucy to rub his belly, but it’s punctuated by his glutted belly churning noisily and Natsu occasionally interrupting himself with an incredibly deep and throaty burp. Lucy has taken to rubbing Natsu’s belly outside of her apartment when it’s REALLY noisy, because that gurgling tends to mean there’s a lot of gas festering inside, and what she’s taken to doing is pressing against Natsu’s belly until he unleashes a HUGE, fiery belch...and she’ll keep pressing into Natsu’s belly, making him burp and again as the plume of fire grows weaker each time, until eventually, he’s just burping up smoke. That tends to give Natsu some MUCH needed relief, which leaves him more docile as he slumps back and eventually dozes off. But Luce is NOT letting that fiery ditz burn her roof down again...

Killer Croc (Batman): Croc‘s canonically a huge glutton and canonically very prone to nausea. He doesn’t do well with heights at all, and on multiple occasions, has eaten things which don’t agree with his scaly gut one iota. If it’s a height thing, then unfortunately, Croc’s inevitably gonna puke. There hasn’t been a single instance where Croc complains about not feeling so hot in the comics where he DIDN’T throw up. In the comics, he tends to burp wetly a few times first, but that eventually leads to him throwing up violently, and a few times in a row...which Harley certainly has a field day with. If he ate something that isn’t sitting right, Croc will let out a really throaty burp and cover his mouth after, worried that he’s on the verge of puking because he can taste whatever he just ate on his burp, or complains that something came up with that one. In these instances, if someone rubs Croc’s belly, they can settle it down and keep him from spewing. Whenever Croc’s got something not sitting right, it’s usually not the only thing he’s eaten, meaning his gut is probably pretty bloated. I love to imagine Croc with a paunchy, doughy belly (thanks to a certain @horriblehooter) but his scaly stomach will still look visibly distended, and be pushing his pants down a little. So when someone rubs Croc’s belly, their fingers will sink into his bellyfat a little while they run their hands up and down that scaly gut and knead into it. This will get Croc groaning pleasurably, giving a rumble in his chest not unlike Leona’s, just way more beastly in nature. The rubbing will occasionally work up a beefy belch, and if that person really presses into Croc’s belly, he’ll let loose a HUGE burp that gets the ground itself almost rattling. But those will give Croc some MUCH needed relief...aaaaaand more than likely cause him to belch up the remnants of his last meal, usually their bones...

Gilbert Nightray (Pandora Hearts): Gil’s definitely the sort to suffer from indigestion the most. He gets the most worked up out of anyone within Pandora, aaaand he’s kind of the whiniest (one of many reasons why I love this unwitting cinnamon bun). Usually, it’s because he’s eaten too much, drank too much, or because he’s just too worked up to the point where he’s given himself a stomachache. We saw in that fluff episode, Gilbert gets the hiccups pretty frequently when he’s drunk, and if he drank too much, poor Gil’s gonna be a hiccuping mess which is eventually gonna lead to him crawling on the ground, cradling his stomach and hiccuping / whimpering pitifully, before he starts crying and whining that he’s a huge lightweight...which he is. If he ate too much, Gil’s stomach doesn’t get nearly as big as anyone else on this list. He’s the sort who, at his worst, gets a really tight and taut bloat that presses his belly out and feels really heavy for him. That leaves him wincing in pain and sweating bullets as Gil tries to massaging his aching belly, and insisting he doesn’t need any help. But Oz being Oz, he’ll immediately plant his hands on Gil’s belly and start rubbing, which will leave Gil blushing furiously, and looking away to try and mask how good it feels. But because Oz is also something of a troll, he’ll wait until Gil is in the middle of saying something then press on his belly so Gil ends up accidentally burping mid-conversation, or even accidentally burping part of his sentence out, which always leaves him mortified while Alice scoffs and says she could top those in her sleep. If he’s got an anxiety-induced stomachache, Gil occasionally tries smoking to calm his nerves, but with his gut giving him grief, that tends to make it worse, and leaves him coughing up a bunch of smoke comically. On occasion, Oz still rubs Gil’s stomach to try and settle it and offering words that will ease Gil’s anxieties. This will always soften Gil up and leave him trying his best not to get sappy with his young master and best friend-o. :P

Cloud Strife (FFVII Remake): Cloud’s canonically got a weak stomach, especially when it comes to motion sickness. Him riding Chocobos will leave him cradling his stomach and lurching miserably. And in the process of getting nauseous, Cloud will get really wet burps that gurgle up his throat so hard he covers his mouth and lurches like he’s trying so desperately hard not to throw up on the spot. He’s like Natsu, in that he’s very weak to indigestion, groaning and burping too much to even really talk at all, mumbling that his stomach hurts really badly. Someone rubbing his back or rubbing his belly will settle him down, but only if the ride is over. If he’s already nauseous and still has more of a trip to go, he either needs a really long break, or he’s gonna eventually throw up. Ironically, he can pack it away like a champ, but is still prone to eating too much from time to time as well. In those instances, someone settling up close and leaning against him to rub his belly will make all the difference in the world. Because Cloud is your stereotypical loner, but he’s also quite starved for physical affection and contact. Rubbing his belly will circulate gas up, but Cloud will turn his head and muffle any burps he feels rumbling up his throat, unless he REALLY needs to get it out, in which case...brace yourself. ;)

Link (LoZ: Breath of the Wild): Link‘s now a canonical glutton and I love that. He’s also canonically prone to getting some serious indigestion brought on by experimental cooking gone horribly wrong. Link will eat freakin’ ANYTHING now, and I love it. I freakin’ LOVE it. But that also means he eats things that are just awful. And when he does, Link is a miserable mess, slumped over, groaning and burping while cradling his aching belly, which is pooching out beneath his tunic because the glutton of time knew what he was eating was awful...and still ate ALL of it. Some potions will help settle Link’s stomach in instances like that. Or he’ll ride it out and let a warm campfire bake near his belly to settle it. Zelda, often times, will delicately slip her hand underneath Link’s tunic and shirt and start rubbing his belly from beneath the tunic to calm it more directly. And whenever he gets a belly rub, Link has the most adorably docile smile on his face as he hums and leans in to Zelda’s touch.

If there are any other characters you’d like to see covered, hit up the ask box, folks! :)

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azucanela · 4 years

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ack anon with the dress hcs here- tysvm for those!! my heart~ ok so another random idea i just needed to share but bakugou/deku/todoroki first frenchie kiss with their s.o. and neither of them have much experience 😖 lots of fluffy awkwardness y'know? idk. again go ahead and add on but don't stress yourself!

FRENCH KISSES WITH THEIR S/O [GN!HEADCANNONS]

[ft. bakugo katsuki, izuku midoriya, todoroki shouto]

SUMMARY: someone decides to bring of french kissing and as expected; its chaotic.

WORD COUNT: french kissing? nothing explicit, very mildly suggestive

WARNINGS: kissing, maybe second hand embarrassment but i doubt it, awkward situations

A/N: my search history is “how to french kiss now” which is the main reason i held off on doing this one ajkshdkjah also this is my first time writing for our boy deku so uhhhh be kind to me, also anon you are now dress anon also i tried something new because i couldn’t bring myself to write full scenarios also i can’t write for midoriya i TRIED BUT I THINK HIS IS BAD

BAKUGO KATSUKI

HEADCANNONS + MINI SCENARIO

lol this is funny

THIS

this is peak comedy right here

hes gonna be so embarrassed but hes gonna try to act like hes completely unaffected by everything that is going on

i feel like he knows what french kissing is and has definitely thought about french kisses with you but he would never bring it up because it embarrassing for him

he might just randomly try it and place you in a complete state of shock, like y’all are just making out and— whoops would you look at that somehow you two are now french kissing! wonder how that happened...

if you ask him he will flat out deny you the first time around because he is embarrassed, but keep trying!! after a few attempts he’s gonna claim to be annoyed but it’s actually because he wants to

“Hey Katuski, you know what we should do—”

Bakugou slams the textbook that laid on his lap shut, a sound reverberating through the library the two had gone two, which earned him a strict glare from the librarian seated at the front desk. His eyes narrowed as they look to Y/N, “if you say French kissing, I swear I will break up with you right now.”

Despite his harsh words, Y/N can see the pink blush that dusts his cheeks as they lean forward on their arm, tilting their head at him innocently as they reply, “actually, I was thinking we could go see a movie later.” Their words only worsen the blush on Bakugou’s cheeks, causing him to snap his head away in an attempt to salvage some of his reputation, “but that works too.”

“Shut up you damn nerd.” The boy grumbles, brows furrowing as he leans back in his seat, looking away as he says, “if it’ll get you to stop asking then I guess we can try it.” Y/N is about to open their mouth to reply but Bakugou quickly adds, “only once though! Damn nerd...”

A grin finds its way onto Y/N’s face and they nod slowly, “great.”

“I hate you.”

honestly i feel like he would lowkey be bad at it the first time around and bakugou is the type of person where if he tries something and isn’t good at it immediately he either avoids this activity entirely or tirelessly works to improve his skill

luckily for you this happens to be a skill that bakugou wants to improve, alot because for some reason you wanted to try this and if he’s not good at it then whats the point

regardless the first time around is like a solid 6.75/10 sorry bakugou oops, you tried, but i feel like he’s already a really like aggressive and like harsh kisser so this is just gonna make things a mess

he can be soft sometimes tho i swear

i feel like he would get good at it after some ~practice~ but even then its a rare occurrence to french kiss with bakugou, its really intimate and he saves it for special occasions or when hes bored lol

IZUKU MIDORIYA

HEADCANNONS + MINI SCENARIO

THIS ONE

OH YOU ARE GOING TO KILL HIM WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO AND DO THIS like apologize, apologize rn for the stress you are about to cause him

if you try to initiate a french kiss with izuku here, you NEED to tell him ahead of time or else things will go south very very fast. he’s going to panic because this is new and he does not understand what is happened oh my-

give him a heads up whenever you want to try something new, so when you pull this while kissing him he’s going to pull away like what a r e you d o i n g

once you tell him he’s gonna be like let’s do this tomorrow, and then will spend the rest of the day RESEARCHING how to french kiss properly, like he’s on wikihow and everything this boy wants to treat you right and is going to make sure you enjoy it

which is when when y’all finally french kiss he is going to be good at it okay, he’ll learn every strategy possible and then he will be a PRO like you’re probably going to be shocked for a hot minute because wait when did he have the time to get good at this—

you’re definitely his first partner and he had no experience prior to you but he trained himself because going into any anything blind and without a plan places him in a state of distress

this was a PLANNED EVENT it was like a date except without all the date stuff just french kissing, like he texts you “hey lets try that thing you wanted to try...” all shy and stuff like he literally took five minutes to actually send the text, and you are trying to figure out what that thing is because deku do you mean like the coffee shop ?? what ??

you make him specify and he nearly dies but its fine its fine, when he finally gets his point across you’re like okay! cool!

overall its a pretty nice experience, i feel like he would be really gentle with you per usual but it was also probably really awkward like homeboy fr sat you down on the bed and just stared at you with bright red cheeks for like

a really hot minute

Y/N brow raised as they stared at Izuku, who’s eyes had pierced into their head since they’d sat down. Oddly enough, Y/N found his meticulous planning of this to just make the situation more awkward, it had done nothing to relieve the burning sensation in their cheeks. But Y/N had a feeling that only one of them could flustered about this or else everything would fall apart rather quickly. It had also been their idea in the first place so, there was that factor too.

“Are you alright, Izuku—”

“FINE. I—I’m fine, I mean.” He cleared his throat as he sat across from them, his cheeks a bright red color as Y/N tilted their head at his antics.

A small laugh escaped them, “If you don’t want to do this Izuku, we don’t have to.” He’d always been easily flustered, so Y/N couldn’t say his reaction came as a shock, but he’d agreed to it nonetheless just yesterday.

This seemed to bring the boy back to reality as he shook his head, “no... I want to.” He straightened in his seat, looking away from Y/N as he tried to collect himself.

A grin spread across Y/N’s face as they leaned closer to Izuku, “fantastic.” Their words only served to fluster Izuku further, though Y/N could feel their cheeks warming as well.

“Right.”

french kissing will not be a regular occurrence, izuku feels embarrassed whenever it happens, he gets shy, all around a very rare thing for him that will only occur if you initiate it, but PLEASE let him know ahead of time, he needs to mentally prepare himself

he enjoys it though

hehe

TODOROKI SHOUTO

HEADCANNONS + MINI SCENARIO

why am i laughing rn

okay but like shouto probably discovers it online entirely by accident or like hears kaminari talking about it and decides he should educate himself because hes fluent in french and knows alot about the culture of france because of all the tutors his father hired so why doesn’t he know what this elusive french kissing his?

shouto is also fluent in kissing he honestly just really enjoys kissing you, he doesn’t know why but its probably because hes touch starved and just likes intimacy like that but he never really knew how much he liked physical touch until he actually experience it [in a positive way] and also you are SOFT :D

regardless shouto is the one who brings it up and honestly you are gonna be shocked because how did this clueless bb find out about that??? sir??? who is teaching you these things?

“You want to do what?”

Y/N couldn’t help the shock that flooded them as they stared at their boyfriend, Shouto Todoroki, who sat with his legs crossed before them on the bed as he replied, “French kissing.” The boy in question repeated, tilting his head at them as he watched her reaction.

Y/N shook their head in an attempt to clear their thoughts as they looked back up at him, meeting his eyes, “who taught you about that?” In the past, Y/N had been forced to explain... certain subjects to Shouto because of things he’d overheard in conversations or seen online. Sometimes it was entirely innocent and other times, well it wasn’t. This time around, it seemed Shouto had took it upon himself to learn, rather than asking Y/N.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.” Come his response, brows furrowing at her question, “however, if its not something you’re interested in then—”

“I didn’t say that!” And Y/N couldn’t help how their cheeks warmed at how quickly they cut him off, hands coming to their face in embarrassment.

the internet and unintentionally kaminari, or maybe intentionally

he doesn’t do any research in fact, he might not even bring it up, next time he sees you in a private space, he’s just gonna start kissing you and you’re probably gonna be like aight bet thats chill this is normal

UNTIL he just grabs your thigh and in the shock your mouth gapes open and SHOUTO STRIKES

honestly i feel like he would be ridiculously good at french kissing for no reason, i don’t know why, i have no explanation, he’s just good at it

its a talent

of all the boys he is the least embarrassed he has no shame, its just natural curiosity right? whatever happens happens. it is literally so annoying how UNFAZED HE IS

probably really liked it because hes a touchy kinda guy, so this will become a more frequent thing when you two are in private, he just enjoys it

TAGLISTS[lmk if you wanna be added or removed via asks or replies]

#bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader

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garrothromeave · 3 years

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mcd garroth + laurance headcanons for the sake of me posting something while working on my long-ass post, also happy birthday blaze ily,

garroth - total momma’s boy. seems obvious, but it’s true -- back in o’khasis, he was practically glued to the side of zianna. whenever she had to leave for a few days when he was younger, he’d cry if he couldn’t go with her. when he left for the guard academy, he wrote to zianna on a daily basis. to put it simply, he had separation anxiety. the hardest thing about faking his death was not being able to see or talk to his mother. - incredible piano player. his father made him take lessons when he was younger for quite a few years, but he was naturally very good at it. he never mentions this skill to anyone. while they were at malachi’s castle and were looking for materials before they left, garroth stumbled upon an old piano and played something. he got really into it, and laurance ended up stumbling on him playing. he made laurance swear to never tell anyone about it. - when garroth was around eight or nine, his stutter was so bad that garte didn’t let him speak in public or around any people other than the family out of shame. vylad and zianna used to help garroth with his stutter.

- garroth is very sensitive to the saying “oh my irene.” growing up in the ro’meave house, it was taboo to use irene’s name in vein. or anywhere in o’khasis, really. nowadays he’s still very caustious whenever he says it, because he thinks that someone is going to yell at him. - horrified of getting hurt. back during the days of training in the guard academy, while he was very good with technique and fighting itself, he had a very bad flinching problem. overall, for the longest time, wounds and pain made garroth very uncomfortable. because of this fear of getting hurt, he has a bit of a stubble because of the one time he hurt himself while shaving. - 6′4, because 6′11 is unbelievably tall and i honestly don’t even think that it’s canon? s’yeah. he seems 6′4 to me.

- garroth often sees new things and (internally) has this very child-like wonder response. he was sheltered for the entirety of his childhood and teenagehood. and after the guard academy, he stayed put in the same village for 5 years -- so he hasn’t experienced very much. he often wants to ask dozens of questions, but because of his shyness, he tends to just observe anything new very closely. which leads me to my next headcanon,

- because of o’khasis’ intolerance to many things, he was not very commonly exposed to magick’s users. the first magicks user that he directly met would be zoey, and he was very nervous when talking to her the first time he met her. when garroth gets to know her more, she catches on that he’s curious about a lot of things, and offers to tell him about things. he declines, and he regrets that decision to this day.

- as stated before, o’khasis isn’t very tolerable of things, which caused garroth to develop incredibly bad internalized homophobia. when aphmau comes along, he gets a very strong desire to protect her (little do we know, this strong desire comes from his connection with esmund) and confuses it for/tries to convince himself that it’s romantic love. it is in fact love, just platonic. so basically, this man’s gay as hell.

- garroth has more freckles than any other ro’meave family member. he’s mildly insecure about his freckles, seeing them as a ‘childish’ trait, which is why he wasn’t very bothered with the idea of hiding his face with his helmet.

- his hair is super curly. it used to be more tame, but as he got older, it got more curly. it’s usually a mess because he doesn’t know how to take care of it, but it somehow looks hot as hell. (no homo ofc.)

- garroth is allergic to blueberries.

- raven was garroth’s first genuine connection since he left o’khasis. zenix was his second. he loves raven a lot, and hates that he can’t see him as often as he’d like to.

- garroth is a total cat person. don’t get me wrong, he loves dogs, but if he were to choose between having one or the other, he’d choose to have a cat. he had a pet cat when he was little that he still thinks about a lot. (probably named sprinkles, just for the hell of it.)

- because of how he grew up, garroth’s actually a very picky eater. while he’d never admit it to himself or anyone else, he misses the more “rich-people” food he was spoiled with.

- garroth isn’t actually that stupid, when he first arrived at pheonix drop, he had a name in mind that he wanted to go by (to better hide his identity). however, when his name was asked by someone, he panicked and “garroth” accidently slipped. he beat himself up for the longest time after that. the only reason he finally let go is because no one had ever pointed out how/seemed suspicious he had the same name as the deceased first-born son of o’khasis.

laurance - his hair grows decently quick, so even after cadenza cut it for him, it only took about 4 months for it to grow back just past his shoulders. he prefers it having some length to it anyways, and usually ties is back into a ponytail. after the irene dimension, he would let nekoette braid his hair. - has a very lanky body type. naturally has long limbs, and would often get called a ‘stick’ when he was younger. he’s about 5′11. but don’t confuse his thinner stature for weakness, he matches garroth’s strength easily.

- bi icon. fuck that “you were my first kiss” bullshit he gives aphmau, the list exists and while it’s stupid and weird, according to it, garroth was his first kiss. which is fuckin funny as hell if you think about it.

- laurance is very good with animals. more so rodents and smaller creatures, like squirrels, birds, rabbits, etc. cadenza was convinced that laurance could talk to animals for the longest time. he even had this little mouse that would pop in his house. however, on the contrary, larger animals -- not so much. he’s shit with horses and cows, especially.

- incredible singer. has serenaded aphmau on multiple occasions, and has even gotten her to sing along with him from time to time. he sang for malachi to help him fall asleep every night since the day they met him. this caused him to start singing for levin at night as well. when laurance saw malachi again after the 15 year jump, within the first few days of his return, malachi asked for laurance to sing for him again just like he used to. which brings me to my next headacanon,

- laurance saw malachi as his own child, and treated him as such. they were very close, and malachi was the most heartbroken over laurance’s disappearance since he saw him very much as a father. it wasn’t that laurance favored malachi over levin that created this bond, it was the fact that laurance first-hand saw a child in need of a home and someone to love him, and it reminded him of when he was small.

- he’s a sucker for bets. gambles, wages, anything like that. while he’s not directly a gambler, if someone offers he’s sure to accept. he’s a risk-taker, and ends up getting really into it. this also branches into his competitive behavior. he’ll be really upset and possibly a bit petty if he loses. why else do you think he still hadn’t given castor the 5 dollars he owes him?

- slingshot master. you give this motherfucker a slingshot he can kill someone with his impeccable aim. he’s also very good with a bow and arrow or any sort of projectile, but he’s the best with a slingshot. when he was younger, he hand-made slingshots from materials that he’d find around the forest.

- speaking of the forest, laurance is a very nature-loving soul. when he moved to meteli when he was adopted, he’d often go and explore the forests nearby. he and cadenza would use their imaginations and play all sorts of games. laurance and her especially loved to climb trees, and would jump from branch to branch. this helped laurance become very flexible. this is also how he met sasha, she was sitting in his favorite tree one day and they just hit it off from there.

- after he was rescued from the nether, laurance frequently had nightmares that would lead into sleep paralysis episodes. the first time it happened garroth had been looking over him (since this was around the time when laurance first got back and garroth had allowed aphmau to go do her lord tasks while he watched over him) and when he had the ability to move and speak again, he started freaking out. garroth had to calm him down and assure laurance that he’d talk to zoey about what happened. garroth and zoey are the only ones that know of laurance’s sleep paralysis, mainly because he didn’t want to worry aphmau or anyone else. zoey often gave him ways to cope with it. it didn’t happen every night, but it did occur at least 5-6 times a month. his sleep paralysis stopped the moment he entered the nether for the second time.

- the first time laurance heard he’d made the list for the jury of nine, he felt honoured. when he was oblivious to how corrupt it was, he saw it as a huge opportunity. after learning about it’s true nature, he was still glad that he’d made the list -- because him being on the list prevented another person from risking being on the list and being chosen to be apart of the jury.

- yes, laurance can cook very will in this universe as well. it’s not that he was taught, it’s more that he can look at ingredients and just throw them together to make great combinations. zoey also taught him a few things.

- laurance does not know his real birthday. malachi does not remember his. since cadenza had “given” laurance a birthday, he offered to let malachi share his unofficial birthday with him. malachi accepted.

garroth + laurance

- laurance began referring to garroth as “pretty boy” after seeing his face. he continued to call him that for the first month of their friendship. garroth hated it, and that’s the only reason laurance eventually stopped.

- laurance and garroth are both very good story tellers, but after one incident where garroth was telling levin and malachi a story, he started stumbling a bit over his words and couldn’t articulate correctly, so laurance picked it up and continued it. from there, they took turns with the story and occasionally interrupted one another to add a detail or plot point, and after that, malachi refused to listen to garroth or laurance separately when telling stories, because their collective minds came up with the most fascinating shit.

- garroth isn’t the best at coming up with insults because he’s simply too nice, but laurance loves to make fun of garroth (in good fun, of course). however, there is one thing that garroth could hold over laurance; and that was their height difference. whenever laurance would mess with him, garroth would just bring up height to piss laurance off.

- when laurance regained his sight, him and garroth sparred very often. that’s when garroth realized how much strength laurance actually had, since he’d originally underestimated him. laurance, in all honesty, was equally surprised. their spars were pretty evenly matched.

- while these two are best friends, the amount of arguments they’ve had is insane. most of them were light-hearted and were more so disagreements, but sometimes things escalated and would result in yelling. that’s because laurance always took it a step too far. that, or garroth would try to disregard what they were talking about, which only made laurance more heated. but they’re both incredibly quick to forgive each other. once they had a really bad argument and didn’t talk for an entire hour afterwards, but once they saw each other again it was like they’d never fought.

- since garroth grew up with everything and laurance often had to hunt and shit, garroth wasn’t amazing at it. laurance found out, originally teased garroth, but gave him tips and took him out and taught him how to hunt. garroth’s still shit at it when he does it alone, but when he does it with laurance he’s pretty decent.

- garroth doesn’t drink. laurance does. laurance once tried to convince garroth to drink, but he refused -- which laurance respected, but garroth had to deal with drunk laurance for the rest of the night at the guard station. he learned things that he really wish he hadn’t that night.

---

i had more for garroth and laurance’s relationship, but uh, i don’t really have time to write them down, so take these for now! i hope y’all enjoy them as much as i did writing them :]

#minecraft diaries #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvhal #aphmau

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sir-gale · 4 years

Text

MHA hcs/bullet points for Valentines Day

(Ft. Midoriya, Todoroki and Bakugou)

Not sure how to describe this, but you know how most of the time we have these characters be gentlemen?

What if we did it to them.

That’s the synopsis.

Warnings: FLUFF, SLIGHT ANGST, SLIGHT SWEARING

Izuku Midoriya

(a.k.a. Deku)

Izuku has always been a very affectionate person

He always wants to spoil you, he cuddles you, he just wants to do this because he’s just as serious about you two as he is with everything else. He doesn’t want you to feel alone even when he’s busy working hard to achieve his dream.

Being the number one hero would lose its meaning without you by his side after all,

Is honestly just the best boyfriend ever. Top tier.

So you two are out on a ~date~

Let’s be honest you can’t go anywhere without seeing all might merch

Especially now that Valentine’s Day is coming around

he’s being super attentive, connecting, just making you feel loved.

And then you two see an all might merch store

You, knowing this is Dekus favorite place to go for his gear, wanna go in and browse

He’s so hesitant about it because he knows how he is (fanboy and all)

“A-are you sure? I can get really get carried away, todays supposed to be about you!”

You WILL drag him in if you have to

Because seeing him looking around with stars in his eyes makes you happy

Of course, he is now invested in a particular item, and you wander off to do some viewing of your own

It’s an all might plushy holding/hugging a heart with the sentence ‘You are plus ultra!’

Oh yes. You were going to get this. You didn’t even look at the price tag.

When I say you SNATCHED this mf-

And sure enough your bby was still in his little happy fanboy space (we’ve all been there)

You buy it.

Cashier was a bit scared. Of you, I mean.

You didn’t take the bag. Just hid the plushie behind you, grabbed izuku by the hood, dragged him out

He was really confused and kind of scared, but seeing your detirmined excited face he calmed down

Before he could say anything you revealed the toy and——

He stood there

Your arms stretched out fully extending it towards him

And he just stared so you went

‘For you’ •^•

He cried.

He bawled.

Literal waterfalls.

He’s already hearing wedding bells.

He’s on cloud nine.

He hugs you so hard for like five minutes squeeling and just.. words of appreciation and love and gratitude

~(I don’t feel the need to make a comment that people were staring at the unveiling seen but just letting you know)~

He carries that plush tight against his chest for the rest of the day, your arms hooked together, no matter how uncomfortable it is to walk shoulder to shoulder like that.

He loves you so much. Thank you for doing this.

Shoto Todoroki

(a.k.a icyhot)

Todoroki has always tried to make up for his cold attitude and overall emotional absence with small things

Whether it be something that he bought, quality time, and other small things that wouldn’t mean much if it were anyone else

But you know. And you really appreciate how much he loves you and shows it.

Only problem is, he’s not sure what he’s doing. He knows that you love him, he knows that he loves you, he just wishes he has the courage to back it up with his words

(Little does he know you’ve been preparing a lil something for valentines day >:))

Whether your a perceptive person or not, after being with him you know how to tell it’s been a hard day for him.

So when he calls you and asks if you want him to take you out, you say ‘no thanks baby’. He really questioned it

“Are you sure? Valentines day is coming up, we haven’t done much for the occasion..”

Once you reassure him, Todoroki is mildly relieved. He loves you, so so much and your presence makes him feel very good, but he just needs today to himself

that didn’t stop the guilt from pouring in. He didn’t want to be neglectful. The fear of that uncertainty in your relationship, he felt bad for doubting you and him. The entire trip home Shoto is in his own head on what couples ‘should’ be like. What a good boyfriend ‘should’ be.

Even though it was him having the bad day, even though you sounded perfectly chipper over the phone, and he was very much deflated, he was considering some sort of grand gesture or expensive gift.

Walking into the house, completely lost in thought, he almost didn’t notice the smooth white box with a note on it

‘Happy Valentines Day!~ You deserve it :)’ Was written on the sticky note

Shoto, now out of his head, opened up the box. Inside was a folded sweater. Before he read what was on it, he set it aside and read the paper at the bottom.

‘I designed this myself. I hope you like it. I hope you know how much I love you. You are the only one for me, no matter how cheesy that sounds.’

Small smile returning to Todoroki's face, your handwriting always seemed to bless his eyes. Anything that made him feel that you were there made him forget how inadequate he felt.

He then took the sweater and decided to go to a mirror, only then putting it on.

It was a light cream color, easy on the eyes. It was perfectly baggy on him. The soft small text sown into the front read ‘~you have my heart~’

Shoto absolutely adored it. If only someone was there to take a picture because this man was smiling like an idiot

He looked down almost bashfully, and then he realized, that with the fabric pooling on his hands, there was something on the sleeves.

Half of a heart on one sleeve, half on the other

Raising his wrists, having them face upwards and connect, it made one whole heart.

His own heart nearly exploded when he realized

Than he literally had your heart in his hands

He loves you so fucking much. Thank you for making this.

Katsuki Bakugou

(a.k.a Kacchan)

Bakugou KNOWS he is an asshole

He doesn’t deny it.

So at the beginning of the relationship, anxious anger issues boom boom boy had been so scared to hurt you with either his words or his quirk

He either goes overboard with treating you in dates or is completely opposed to touching

Sometimes he juggles in both.

“Hey, get anything you want alright? No! I don’t need your hand!”

Whiplash.

Getting you gifts is his way of feeling good enough for you. It obviously really bothers you but you haven’t figured out the right time to bring it up

One day though, you two decided to stay home and relax. This doesn’t happen often, as Bakugou usually doesn’t think it’s good enough for you, but after a lot of convincing he agreed to stay inside.

(You wanted to do this because you knew it was a bad day for him. He’s really out of it, making mistakes isn’t his thing)

This is a bit of a tricky situation for Katsuki, he realized he couldn’t just have a girlfriend without touching you no matter how much he tried to avoid it.

Okay but let’s be clear

It was VERY OBVIOUS that he wanted to touch you

It’s like he was trying to deny the fact that you had his eyes and ears, and he always fidgeted around

As if he wasn’t hot and sweaty enough -_-

Cut to him ready on the couch, movies almost on, you come out from the kitchen with two chai masala teas (extra spice in bakugou’s)

He doesn’t really know how to react to it.

“Thanks.”

He wishes he could sound as grateful as he feels.

And then, suddenly, you get on the couch and pull him into your embrace, his head on your chest.

“I know today sucks. Let me take care of you this time.”

“I love you Katsuki. I don’t need anymore jewlery. I just need your heart.”

He was damn near tears then. He was too tired to fight back and too emotional over his failures, he laid his head on your lap and for the rest of the night he was calmer than ever.

He loves you so much. Thank you.

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clumsyclifford · 2 years

Note

3, 11, 20, 75 please -hazel

yes i WILL answer these! and then i will go fix my slides on the final project. i am a terrible person. the worst, some might say

3. Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself? yes! both! i am kind of weird about it. there's probably a psychological basis for why i share some ideas but keep others under lock & key, but i don't want to psychoanalyze myself tonight, so let's just say it's fairly random. if a particular idea is giving me trouble though then i will definitely share them with someone, usually megs or meghna or you sometimes, to help me brainstorm a solution. actually literally today (no. last night??? yeah last night) megs solved a big ol fic problem i was having. that's not really relevant, i just wanted to give megs a shoutout.

11. Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around? i try my level best to write in order. on occasion i'll be struck by a piece or a few sections of an idea that i'll write out, and then when i go to flesh out the idea i realize i have to write around them and in between the existing scenes, and in those cases i necessarily have to write out of order, but if at all possible, i write in order. i just find it a lot easier for my brain, because time goes in order, so. like. yeah.

i will say as a disclaimer to this: when i say in order, i mean in chronological order. so i think that hypothetically if i was writing a fic with a non-linear narrative, i would maybe try writing that in chronological order and then breaking it up and rearranging it. actually, i'm thinking about the merrikat today was a fairytale/stay stay stay fic and i feel like i wrote that one out of order, but it did feel like i was writing two different fics - one for timeline A, and one for timeline B several years later. if that makes sense. anyway the point is. in order when possible.

20. Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics? canon! to be honest i never realized just how much i love writing canon compliant or canon mostly-compliant, mildly-divergent fics, but recently it's come to my attention that...like...i almost exclusively write that shit. when it comes to fictional media, that is. rpf is a different story because it's all technically AU/non-canon (because what even is canon for real people lol) so in those cases i think i weigh canon and AU equally. but when there's actual source material, i really like writing within the sandbox of the source material. sometimes i do some canon divergence to, like, make a character be alive who died in canon because i think their death is bullshit, or have two characters be dating in the background when they weren't in the show, or incorporate some fun fanon like making a character jewish who really deserved to be jewish in the first place, but generally, it's most fun for me to take existing canon characters, with all (or almost all) their canon experiences/memories/trauma, and just. see what they do.

75. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect? fucking spiderman lashton got so much traction. like SO much more attention than i was expecting. i shit you not while i was writing that fic i was like this is so dumb this is so silly this is so stupid and then i posted it (didnt even make a PROPER LINK POST, just made a textpost and put the link in the text) and somehow that bullshit became one of my most popular fics, stats-wise. like three different people have made moodboards for that fic. LIKE????? i'm not complaining because i really enjoy spidey lashton it's a funny fic very lighthearted very enjoyable but i swear to god i was not expecting it to be NEARLY as popular as it became. like that fic was posted in june 2020. that was. like. i had had my bellawritess ao3 for a month at that point. JUST ONE MONTH!!!!!!!! WHO WAS OUT HERE FINDING THAT FIC??????

fanfiction writing asks!

#if tumblr had not been down that night spidey lashton would never have been written probably can you believe that #can you believe one of my most popular fics (literally top 10. out of two hundred and twenty fics.) only exists because #my favorite social media website malfunctioned at a critical time of night #WILD #these are such good questions hazel i really love these ones #ask #hazel #allsassnoclass #fic talk #don't know if this counts as fic talk

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hockeyforthefirsttime · 4 years

Text

That Someone- Roope Hintz

AN: yeah, idk man. This took far too long to write, esp with thought of quality that isn’t there. HOWEVER, I can’t stare at it any longer so here ya go.

Word Count: 2,5k

TW: alcohol, slight angst, general pining

Roope has never been an easy person to understand. One moment he is your best friend, and other times he’s one of the star players of the Dallas Stars. And the two roles, they shouldn’t be all that conflicting, but apparently they are, and you don’t know how to change that.

“Roope, can you please for one second listen to me?”

You speak up in between giggles as he is curled up in your lap.

“No.”

He mumbles into your stomach, the vibration of his voice against your stomach making you chuckle.

“You promised. The deal is that you make dinner every other time.”

“But m’tired.”

His protest makes you card a hand through his hair, which you know is a bad idea. It only makes you feel like your best friend is something more, to you.

“Please just make dinner Roope.”

You sigh. And with a grunt he actually gets up and moves to the kitchen while rubbing his eyes in a childlike manner.

You twist around on your couch and grab your phone from the coffee table.

People always scrunch their noses when they see that your lockscreen is just black. Most people call you boring for it, most of all Tyler Seguin, the Star that you feel closest to, if you don’t count Roope.

You don’t care though, because you don’t want to have anything there. (If you were to have anything there it’d be Roope though). And that about sums up how far into the deep end you are. You have a creeping suspicion that this is what Tyler knows, and that’s why he keeps teasing you about your black lock screen.

Shaking your head, you turn on some soft music on the TV speaker and wander into the kitchen.

Roope has a towel hanging over his shoulder and is quietly humming along to your music.

“You really only know how to make pasta?”

He turns at the sound of your voice.

“It’s damn good pasta and you know it.”

He teases with a smirk. You have told him on multiple occasions just how good his pasta is.

“Maybe so.”

“It’s finished soon, Miss Denial, will you set the table please?”

Roope asks as he turns back to the carbonara he has been making.

It’s the domestic, small things like this that make you fall even further. He just doesn’t realise. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the only person you have admitted your feelings to is you. Because when other people ask about Roope, he’s always just your best friend. As jokingly as he does it, calling you Miss Denial rings more true than he thinks it does.

------

As one of the Star players of the Dallas Stars, Roope acts a little bit different. He brings you out after a big win, he does, but you never go together. There is always some excuse, mostly that he thinks you will have more fun getting ready with the WAGs. Because of that it’s just easier if you carpool with them. Or take your own car. For better or worse, because that means you have to stay sober for the entire night.

And even if you think every night is gonna be different, it never really is. Tonight is apparently no excuse.

They have just won over the Islanders on home ice and are the usual suspects en route to the regular club. Roope had the winning goal and was over the moon when he got out of the locker room and media.

You had dressed in an emerald knit sweater, not being able to put on the jersey Roope had given you. You had tried to put it on, you really had, but feeling the weight of having “Hintz” on your back was just too much for you. Especially when you know that it’s all you’ll ever get.

You’re all sitting together around two tables, doing shots and nursing different drinks. Roope is beside you on the outer end of the table. Tyler is on your right, for once having sworn he isn’t gonna get completely wasted.

You’re all laughing at Miro as he downs another shot of something he supposedly likes, you can tell he’s close to the limit now. However you aren’t too scared, you’re his ride home anyways.

Roope’s arm is resting behind your head and as the time starts nearing one am, even with the flashing eyes and loud music, you’re starting to feel drowsy. You lean into his chest and rest there, unknowingly making the whole table swoon.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get another water.”

Roope’s eyes are slightly glassy as you look at him. Carefully he moves out of his seat to allow you to move.

“Want anything?”

“Just a beer please.”

Roope mumbles softly and you nod.

The queue to the bar is longer than expected, and ten minutes have passed when you walk from there.

You’ve almost reached your table when you notice an absence. It makes you stop and causes someone to bump into you, making you spill half the glass of water. You know they’re gone before you can register who it is.

Sighing, you make your way over to the table and the vacant spot.

“Hey, anyone know where Roope went?”

The group around the table is more reduced now than you first realised. Apparently also feeling very pitiful, ‘cause no one wants to answer the question. Until Tyler does.

“Uhh, some chick came up asking for a dance.”

Miro stumbles to your side, positively hammered, and folds his frame over yours.

“Roope s’stupid.”

He slurs against the top of your head.

“Stop Miro.”

You sigh.

“But s true.”

“Please not now, here drink this.”

You say and hand him the half empty glass of untouched water.

“I think I’m gonna try to get this mafioso home for the night.”

The remaining team members and their significant others all nod understandingly. And since you can’t see Roope, you start to hug people goodbye.

“Don’t worry, he’ll come to his senses sooner or later.”

Tyler whispers into your ear as he hugs you, giving you an extra squeeze.

You set the still full glass of beer down by Roope’s spot, and take Miro’s arm so you can lead him out of the club.

“C’mon, let’s get you and me home.”

“Okay, I feel a little dizzy.”

Only a few minutes later, after you and Miro have departed, Roope comes back to the table still fixing his cap and wiping lipgloss off his lips. Immediately he spots the glass of beer and takes a big swig of it. It’s not until he finishes swallowing that he notices the eyes on him, all except one pair.

“Where did Y/N go?”

He questions.

“So you finally notice, huh.”

Tyler mumbles, yet somehow Roope catches it. Making him frown at his teammate.

“She went home, took Miro back to his place as well.”

Jamie’s date of the night replies. Roope looks towards the exit, but sees no sign of you or his teammate.

----

In all honesty, when you got the first message from Roope, asking why you left, your heart couldn’t take it. So you just shut off your phone and went to bed. And thank god for Sundays, cause you sleep until 11am that morning. It’s not good sleep, and you still feel tired when you drag yourself to the bathroom, and sad. The person in the mirror doesn’t quite look like you, she is much more bleak, faded.

Regardless, you step into the shower and try to wake yourself up. Even though you don’t have anything to do, you still want to wash last night off your body. The soft almost non exiting pressure stream of water doesn’t help much, only adding to your frustrations. So you step out and dry off, before going back to your bedroom. You dress in a pair of old sweats that hang off your hips ever so slightly and a henley sweater you find in the back of your closet.

Your phone is still on the kitchen bench when you walk in, and you decide to power it on again. As soon as you punch in the pin code, it’s overflowing with messages from Roope. And the general gist is worry and confusion. When you click on his contact, and see the messages and the times they were sent, it’s your turn to get worried. They go from tree am to ten minutes ago.

Me: Roope, you need sleep

You type before you can think twice, and send the message. Almost instantly there is a new message, but this time only the one.

Roope: I’m on my way over.

And you swear you are frozen in time, cause minutes go by and you don’t notice, only staring at the screen. A knock on your door shakes you from your stupor, and automatically you go to open it.

Roope looks rough, to put it mildly. He is still in the same clothes as last night, his blond hair is messy even hidden underneath his cap, and his eyes are red and droopy.

“You need to sleep, Roope.”

“No, I need you.”

You sigh and open the door a little further, motioning for him to come in.

“Roope, please. You have to sleep.”

It feels like there is little else to say. You don’t want to have this conversation with him now, when he might not remember it in the morning. Much less when you are on the verge of crying yourself.

“Please, ‘jus wanna talk.”

And he sounds so so sad, when he talks. You never could resist a sad Roope, there is something in the way his eyes plead with you. So you close the door and turn towards him, and are met with that exact look.

“Okay, just go sit on the couch.”

You sigh, watching as he stumbles over to the couch. The trip to the kitchen seems far too long, but when you make it you pull out a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. It isn’t until you shut off the running water, that you hear the soft snores coming from the living room.

Walking into the living room, you see Roope completely collapsed in what has to be an uncomfortable position. At that moment you decide to let him sleep it off. Even if he doesn’t end up remembering this moment when he wakes up. You set the glass of water on the coffee table along with the ibuprofen, and decide to go about your day in other ways.

Like getting your laptop and sitting down by the tiny kitchen table you have, to attempt some work. In reality you end up editing some playlists on your Spotify and getting consumed by it. The next time you look at the clock on the stove, it shows 3pm. And you figure you’ve wasted enough hours on the internet.

Quietly you close your laptop and take off your headset. When you walk into the living room, Roope seems to have realized how uncomfortable he was and has curled up into a ball. Crouching down in front of the couch

“Hey, you need to wake up.”

He groans, but you can tell he is starting to wake up from the way his brows scrunch together. Reaching out, you place a hand on his upper arm and shake him a little. Slowly but surely, his eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze. The whites in his eyes are still a little red, but he seems a little clearer now.

“Morning”

Roope mumbles, while getting up. He swings his legs over the edge and his upper body follows. You can’t help but let out a little chuckle while shaking your head at him. He leans his elbows on his knees, and lets his head drop into his hands.

“Here, drink some water.”

You hand him the glass from the table and go to shake out two pills from the bottle.

“No no, I’m fine without.”

He says after taking three generous gulps of water from the full glass.

“It will help with the pain.”

You tell him, holding your hand out towards his.

“Why?”

He asks, and you answer absentmindedly.

“Because there are chemicals in this that will help you relax.”

Roope shakes his head at you and sighs.

“No, I mean, why are you always so kind to me? Why do you care so much?”

You feel your heart sting and sink to your stomach.

“Do you not want me to?”

The fact that you are getting defensive about this should tell him enough. But he only seems to get more fired up.

“Don’t answer a question with another question.”

And you swear, time stops for a second, giving you time to think a few thoughts. First, that you should never have let him stay. Second, that there are a million better ways to do this. And third of all; fuck it.

“Because I want to be someone to you.”

He frowns at that, trying to take a step towards you, only to discover that you’ve moved to the other side of the coffee table.

“Of course you are someone to me, you’re my best friend.”

Roope even cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“I want to be that someone to you. Not just your best friend. I want you to hold me in public, I want you to take me out on the dance floor when we go out, and I want you to not rush home after a night in. I want to be able to put on your jersey and not feel like an imposter. I think I want more than you’re willing to give. And that’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

You don’t realize you have moved through the apartment, and you don’t realize that Roope has followed you. You do know though, because you can see his reflection behind you in the window.

“All of me, if you’re willing. I’ll give you all of me, because you’re not just my best friend, you’re the friend I call whether I’m happy or sad. When I’m having a crisis or don’t feel well I think of you, or come here. I just didn’t think you’d want all of the public stuff, cause I know you’re a private person.”

He has been moving closer and closer, now you can feel him behind you, across the entire plane of your back. In the reflection, his head is a little bent and his breath is fanning across your neck.

“All of me, is what I can give you.”

Roope whispers, sending tickles down your spine.

“Are you sure?”

You close your eyes as you lean into his chest, feeling him wrap his arms around your front.

“Never more sure of anything.”

The confirmation makes everything fall into its rightful place inside you, so you lift a hand to the back of his neck, which causes him to lean down and place a soft kiss on your lips.

#roope hintz #roope hintz imagine #dallas stars #nhl #nhl imagine #roope hintz angst #roope hintz fluff #roope hintz fic #roope hintz blurb #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars fluff #Dallas Stars angst #Dallas Stars Blurb #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl angst

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teawithkpop · 5 years

Text

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 2

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 9.7k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, anal play (male receiving), praise kink, degradation, mentions of cross dressing, brief orgasm denial, oral sex (female receiving), mentions of birth control, dirty talk, pet play, cum play (kinda?), voyeurism, group sex, anal sex, pheww I think that’s it

this one is,,, twice as long as pt 1 eye-

anyways thank you for all the love for physcom! I’ll do my best to make this series ruin everyone’s lives hehehe the best it can be! ^^ <3

-------

“...What are you two doing?”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit-

Emergency sirens are all you can hear in your brain and sheer panic floods your veins, leaving you frozen with fear. You know you shut the door, you had to have shut it, right? Why the fuck wouldn’t you have shut the door?

Surely this is the end. You’ll be exposed and all the reasons that you gave Taehyung not to do the thing you just did come flooding back to you now, echoing in your head like ghosts and mocking you in your own voice. Contract terminated… stigmatized… left with nothing... shadow of disgrace...

“What does it look like?” Taehyung answers without hesitation, drawing you back into the present moment. One of his eyebrows lifts minutely, as if he’s only mildly irritated by the witness to your transgression. If he’s nervous, you can’t tell.

Jimin’s eyes narrow suspiciously at Taehyung’s sarcasm. “It looks like you were-”

“Our lovely PhysCom was just helping me get off.” Tae interrupts him, his tone implying the obvious.

It’s then that you realize, Jimin only saw what you two were doing, not the reason behind it, or what you were feeling... this lie might actually work.

“Then why were you just kissing her? Why wasn’t she touching you, or something?” Jimin is not so easily fooled, and he peers around to confirm that neither yours nor Tae’s genitals are exposed.

Taehyung gives a shrug. "Kissing is my new kink." His eyes sparkle with the private joke, and he sends you a wink. “See you later, jagiya.” With that, he ruffles his hair back into place and heads out of the room, leaving you alone with a skeptical Jimin.

You're a little ticked that he left you to glue all the pieces of your cover story back into place, but you turn to Jimin regardless. "Sorry about that. Master Kim has been… experimenting,” you supply, trying to fill in any holes in the story, but sounding uncertain even to your own ears.

"I don't like that he calls you that." Jimin says, a frown on his lips as he stares after the direction Tae went.

You furrow your brows. "What?"

"Jagiya.” His gaze shifts back to you. “You know what that means, right?"

It’s rare for the boys use a word or phrase in their native language that you don’t understand. You don’t speak Korean, but the chip in your brain does. It’s hooked up to an audio-translation app in your ComGear, and automatically translates what you hear, so your brain perceives it in your native tongue.

Conversely, the chip also tracks your thoughts, so as you go to speak, it overrides the synapses in your Temporal Lobe and Korean comes out of your mouth instead. Such a device is considered standard among newly licensed PhysComs.

It didn’t used to be that way, and often PhysComs that were hired from foreign countries had no way to speak to their clients except through body language and learned commands. But the industry quickly realized that full communication is key to avoiding issues with consent, not to mention it's much more convenient, and so the best PhysCom networks provide their employees with proper translation equipment. Though there are still some smaller networks that can’t afford the technology and therefore, they usually only hire trainees who speak the same language as their potential clients.

On occasion, there will still be a word which has no exact equivalent in your language, such as hyung or jagiya, so the app doesn’t attempt to translate it. But usually you can pick up the gist of it through context, and Namjoon has been very helpful in providing you with articulate definitions before. You still remember the funny look on his face when you asked him about jagiya - the term of endearment Tae calls you.

"It's used between lovers, isn't it?” You ask, recalling Namjoon’s definition to be an approximation of darling or sweetheart. “Technically, I am his lover."

Jimin’s frown creases his brow. "Yeah, but you're a lover for all of us,” he says, a pout forming on his lips. “He shouldn't get to act like you're just his."

Normally you would tease him for sounding jealous, but his concern in this case is… founded, and another pang of guilt hits your gut. You don't know if you'll even be able to eat the dinner you made at this rate.

You try to change the subject. "Anyway, how can I help you, Master Park?"

"Oh, right.” His concern seems to melt away to embarrassment, and he rubs the back of his neck. “I sent you a message this morning. I don't know if you got it… then I messaged you about ten minutes ago, asking if we could… have a quick session."

Right. You haven’t looked at your ComGear since the incident with Taehyung, and you feel even guiltier. First you were lying to your client, and now you’ve accidentally ghosted him. Thankfully Jimin doesn’t hold a grudge, especially not with you. All he needs is a little personal attention and validation, and he’ll be purring.

Time to get back to work.

"Sorry, master.” You assume your persona and saunter over to him, running your hand up his arm. “I was so excited to hear from you, I forgot to reply,” you chuckle, your fingers dancing up his neck and combing through the hair at his nape. He visibly relaxes under your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as you card through his silky locks.

“It’s okay…” he mumbles, shyly avoiding your gaze. Honestly, Jimin can be too cute for his own good. He and Taehyung are the same age, but they're like opposites in a way. They both exude the same level of charm, but one is effortlessly seductive while the other is effortlessly endearing. You have witnessed those roles reverse in them before, but no matter which way you look at it, they’re still two of the sexiest people on the planet.

“I did get your message this morning, master. Quite a scandalous outfit…" You click your tongue and raise a well groomed eyebrow at him. Jimin loves to be teased, and chastisement really puts him over the edge. “Why did a good boy like you send me such a naughty picture, hm?”

He looks away, a blush rising to his cheeks. "I was wondering if… if you could…"

You don’t try to finish his sentence for him, and lift one polished fingernail beneath his chin, coaxing him to look at you. "Yes?"

"If you could make me wear it?"

Oh. Another surprise. Jimin is a hell of a flirt on stage, and anyone would think he’s dominant in the bedroom, even just judging from how often he sticks out his tongue while dancing, or how he thrusts his hips to the encouraging screams of thousands. But that’s on the stage, when he’s in his element. By himself, in private, it’s a much different story. Jimin’s not exactly sure what he wants from you.

You had read up about all this in his file, and you’ve been working with Jimin to help him explore his sexuality in a way that’s comfortable for him. You’ve tried a myriad of things so far, and recently, he’s been enjoying more submissive pleasures. During your most recent session, he even asked you to penetrate him.

You had complied of course, but the experience seems to have inspired him to go further, to a kink you didn’t even know he had. Cross-dressing and the usual praise-filled humiliation? Oh, this will be fun.

“Chim?” Your tone is scandalized as you use the name he prefers when being submissive, and his cheeks turn scarlet. “You want to be dressed up in that outfit?”

He nods, turning his face to nuzzle his cheek into your hand. “Is... is that okay?”

Your heart melts, and you smile at him, brushing your thumb along his soft cheek. “Of course it’s okay, baby.”

He grins, his eyes turning to crescents, and you suddenly feel compelled to give him the entire world if he so desires.

You click your tongue once more and ruffle his hair affectionately. “We’ll have to order it first, okay? Then we can dress you up, Chim.”

“Okay,” he says, and you swear his smile could light up the night sky. “Until then… could you, uh… play with my butt again?”

You chuckle and nod. “Yes, I most definitely can. We still have some time before dinner.” You grab your ComGear, take his hand, and lead him out of the room, being sure to shut the door this time. “Come along, baby.”

As the two of you head off to his room, you’re almost able to forget the situation with Taehyung. That is, until you open your ComGear to pull up the picture of Jimin’s outfit and see all the missed messages from him.

I’m really sorry. My feelings got away from me. Please don’t ignore me, jagiya. I don’t want to lose you. Jagiya? I’m coming upstairs.

Shit. Feelings? A sinking feeling claws at your heart and you have to wonder just how serious Taehyung is about you. How deep do these feelings of his go?

“Everything okay?” Jimin’s voice clears your mind and you slide your ComGear back into its holster. His eyes are full of concern at your probably tense expression, and you have to push the guilt away again.

“Everything’s fine.” You aren’t sure that’s true, but maybe if you say it enough, it’ll manifest. Regardless, you don’t have time to worry about Taehyung right now. Your client needs you.

“Come on, baby boy. Let’s go make you feel good.”

-------

Jimin’s room always smells good, like fresh linen. You aren’t sure how that’s possible, when 80 percent of the time, the place is a mess. But you aren’t complaining. He keeps his bed made neatly, and that’s all that matters for your job.

"Take off your pants for me, Chim." Your voice is gentle as you start the scene and lock the door behind the both of you. Jimin wastes no time in following your orders, and strips his lower half down to his underwear. He’s about to take off his top too, but you stop him. “You should leave that on. It’s cute.”

He looks down at the oversized shirt, the long sleeves covering most of his hands, and the rest of the soft blue fabric hangs loosely around his torso. He smiles shyly and gets onto the bed, assuming position and laying on his back as he had for your previous sessions.

"What a good boy. Oh, look how hard you are already,” you purr, undoing the belt of your robe and slipping it off, leaving your body bare save for your utility belt. It feels good to put aside your worries and focus on work for a while.

Before you begin, you change a setting on your ComGear to let the other boys know you’re currently in a session. If you’re busy and they want to fuck, they have the option of joining in - if your current client allows it - scheduling you for directly after, or fucking one of the secondary PhysComs their company employs and keeps on call.

You’re their Primary Physcom. The secondaries are alternate fuck toys for when you’re unavailable, if you get sick, on your days off, while you’re sleeping, etc. For as long as you’ve worked for Bangtan, not once have they called a secondary PhysCom.

It does boost your pride a bit, but to be fair, you’re the only one who knows them so well.

Sure, they could go call another PhysCom to play with if they get super horny at three in the morning, but the secondaries are practically strangers to them. They’ve all expressed that they’d much rather wait, if it means they can get their hands on you instead of some random substitute, which is just the way you like it.

You’re their girl, and you know, better than anyone, how they like to fuck. Besides, if anything, them having to wait for you builds up the anticipation and makes them even hornier. In a way, you view their favoritism as job security. It’s only practical to stay in their good graces and develop trust and build connections with them.

You see the lust and excitement glittering in Jimin’s eyes as you climb onto the bed, facing him and sitting beside his legs. Your hand runs up along his inner thigh to tease him, and the bulge in his underwear grows a little more prominent.

“Now then. Have you been thinking about our last session, Chim?” You make your voice calm and soothing as your fingers skim up and down his thighs, giving an occasional squeeze to his soft skin. God, his thighs are thick… perfect for riding.

He nods. “Yes.”

You flick the thought away. He didn’t ask you to ride his thighs. Your fantasies are not relevant. “Good. And how do you feel about it? Did you like it when I played with your pretty little hole?” Your nails graze over his length, and he bites his lower lip. You like to do regular check-ins with your clients, in case they want to experiment, or something isn’t working for them. But with Jimin, everything so far has been an experiment, so you’ve been checking in more frequently. In a way, you’re kind of like a sexual therapist to all of them.

“Yes. I loved it,” he replies, gripping the sheets below him to avoid moving too much. “It felt so good.”

You hum in delight, happy that you two seem to have found a path to follow to pursue his pleasure. “Excellent. And if something doesn’t feel good, what do we say?”

“Calico.” Jimin murmurs, one sleeved hand coming up to cover his face. God, he’s a natural. His shyness is going to kill you. You set up safe words with all your clients, just in case. It shows your professionalism. You even have one, though you’ve never had to use it.

“Good boy. Always tell me how you’re feeling, okay?” You can feel his cock twitch at the praise, and you love being able to make him so happy.

He nods, a blush already rising to his cheeks. “Please touch me.”

How can you deny such a request? You hook your fingers in the waistband of his (no doubt very expensive) boxer briefs, peeling the fabric down his legs and off his body, to be discarded at the foot of the bed.

“Oh my…” You shift positions, spreading his legs apart and perching yourself between them. “What a pretty little cock. Look at that.” You would make a show of it even if it wasn’t pretty, but fuck, in this case, the praise is well deserved. Jimin’s cock is smooth and pink and perfect, just like his lips. Frankly, you think putting your mouth on either one would be just as pleasurable. The only fib about his cock would be the ‘little’ part - Jimin sports a fair five or six inches - but it’s all a part of the fantasy, for his benefit.

You hum to yourself as you snap on a pair of plastic gloves, as much for safety reasons as for his pleasure. Even though you all get checked frequently for any sort of sexual diseases and infections, you’re still having sex with multiple men every single day, and there are certain precautions one should take.

Hygiene is one of the many intricacies of your job and you follow your hygienic routine religiously. For anal and vaginal sex, PhysComs have various cleansers that can be inserted nightly to prevent anything nasty from taking root overnight. For Oral sex, there are specialized mouth washes that can be swallowed if needed.

But hands are a little trickier. Nails and cuticles aren’t as easily to clean thoroughly, and can trap all sorts of bacteria, so with something like fingering your clients, it’s safest to use a barrier to significantly decrease the risk of infection or contamination.

Now fully protected, your fingertips start to trace over his beautiful cock, skimming along his inner thighs, and teasing his precious little hole, building up his anticipation. He gives a small whimper, looking away as you tease him just enough to make his hips buck up into your capable hands.

Eventually, you take his length and slowly pump it in your hand, catching his gaze whenever he looks to you. “Does Chim want to be filled up? You want me to play with your ass?”

He nods emphatically, still hiding his face.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes! Please p-play with my ass.” His face is positively scarlet, and you smile with satisfaction.

You let go of him, and reach beneath his bed to pull out his little chest of treasures. Anal beads, plugs, vibrators, nearly everything can be found inside. You think he might have even added to the collection since last time.

You select a small ribbed plug with a jewel decorating the base and grab the lube from your belt. You spread a generous amount over his hole, gently massaging it in. As you carefully push your forefinger past his puckered rim, he moans. You slide your finger gently in and out, stroking his silken walls, and he writhes beneath your touch, already overcome with pleasure.

“Are you ready, baby?”

He nods again, then remembers to speak. “Yes. I’m ready.”

You ease the tip of the plug past his rim, and soon the whole thing is nestled comfortably inside him. He lets out a whine, his thighs clenching as you slowly work the toy in and out of his hole. “Good boy… such a pretty cock.” You pet his thigh soothingly, then start to squeeze his cock, pumping it slowly in time with the plug.

It doesn’t take long before Jimin is moaning and squirming, his length rock hard and leaking precum. His moans get whinier, his breath more shallow, and you can tell he’s on the edge.

With a kiss to his hardened dick, you ease the plug out of his ass and cease all contact. Orgasm denial is something he’d brought up last time, and now seems like the perfect opportunity to test the waters. "I think such a good boy can hold his cum in until dinner…"

"No! Please! I-I can't." He covers his face with both hands, writhing desperately for some friction to his aching cock, his pink hole puckering cutely at the sudden emptiness.

So freaking cute.

"Oh? You want to cum now?" You chuckle, teasing the toy around his rim. "But then how will you fuck me along with the others at dinner if your little cock is all sad and empty?" You trace your fingernail up along his length, barely touching him.

He whimpers in reply, his member twitching in pleasure.

"Can you cum again for me tonight, baby boy? Promise me. Otherwise this little cock is going to stay hard." You grip him by the base of his shaft, tortuously brushing your forefinger over the leaking head of his cock.

"I promise I can! I'll cum for you at dinner, I-I swear it…"

You grin. You don’t expect to hold it to him, but you know it’s the looming threat of punishment that’s what’s most effective here. "I have your word, baby boy."

Your hand pumps his length to completion while you grab the toy and fuck it back inside of him, and he cries out in ecstasy, quickly cumming in spurts all over your hand, a few drops landing on his shirt while his body trembles from his climax.

"Good boy,” you coo, milking him through his high.

-------

It doesn’t take you long to clean Jimin up, as well as cleaning the toy for next time, and then you pack everything away. He’s still breathless by the time you’re finished, laying on the bed as he recovers from his orgasm.

You’re about to get up and grab your robe from the floor when Jimin finds his voice.

"Why were you really kissing Taehyung?"

Your stomach sinks at the question. You’d been hoping he’d forgotten - as you were trying to do - about your little bend of will earlier. How the hell are you supposed to answer that? Honesty. Always go for honesty.

Well, as honest as you can be without losing your job. "He commanded me."

"Is that all it takes?" Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up and he props up eagerly onto his elbows. "Kiss me, too."

You curse the flutter in your stomach. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You know for a fact that it's a bad idea, and out of the question, but damn if Park Jimin doesn't have the most luscious lips you've ever seen. The temptation is there, for sure...

"Just a little kiss?” He clasps his hands together, his eyes pleading. “It's only fair. You were practically making out with him."

Well, shit. Now what? Technically, not kissing clients is only a self-imposed rule on your part, plenty of PhysComs divulge in the act. You chose to restrict it for your own sanity. But, what now? Do you lie to yourself and stick to the book, even when you've already broken a cardinal rule? Or do you… see what's beyond the confines of its cover?

Fuck. You need to stop talking yourself into these things.

But to be fair, nothing bad happened last time, apart from Jimin walking in on you. You glance at the door, which is shut tight and locked, as is standard during a session. No risk of being interrupted.

Jimin’s eyes dart down to your lips as he chews on his own, waiting for your decision. Seeing his teeth tug at the plump pink skin has your heart skipping a beat despite your best effort to deny his effect on you.

Fuck it. Park Jimin is begging to kiss you.

"Okay, fine. One - very small - kiss." You pinch your fingers together to demonstrate.

“Yes!” He smiles brightly, and suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. He sits up fully, scooting closer to you.

Why is your heart beating so goddamn fast? Why are you nervous about this? "But, look, you can't tell anyone, okay? I’m making an exception since this isn't really in my job description."

He nods eagerly and seems happy to agree to any stipulations. “Just this once, I promise. It’ll be our secret.”

That makes it sound even more condemning somehow, but you don’t have time to second guess it as he cups your cheek and pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours.

His kiss is like some sort of paradise, it leaves your mind feeling fuzzy... his lips… how are they so thick and soft? He’s hypnotic, sweet, addictive… like nothing you’ve ever experienced.

Before you know it, he's laying you out on the bed, moaning as he licks into your mouth, his tongue breaching through the kiss while he gropes your breast. Fuck, you shouldn’t have agreed to do this naked. But he tastes so sweet, you can’t think of a reason to object, too intoxicated by his lips. He breaks away from your mouth and starts trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your body, and pretty soon he's mouthing at your inner thighs, his fingers skimming the base of your pussy plug.

Oh, shit. Wait, no, how did this happen?

"Master Park." You start to say, but then he's twisting the plug free, and you gasp at the unexpected stretch as it pulls out. "J-Jimin!"

He stops, his eyes wide at the use of his first name as he looks up at you from his lewd position.

"What the hell are you doing?" You ask, too flustered to rely on your usual formalities.

"Saying thank you." He replies simply. Then he leans down to kiss your clit, and begins mouthing at it devotedly.

You nearly jump out of your skin at the electric contact. Fuck, no one's gone down on you in a year at least, not since your training. Your body is screaming to let him continue, but you know it’ll lead to nowhere as he laves over your sensitive and neglected bud with his tongue, and you find yourself scooting up the bed and away from his blissful mouth. "Jimin, no. Stop."

You grab the plug from him and insert it again before anything can leak out, distress making your fingers tremble.

His face scrunches with concern. "Did I do it wrong?"

Damn it, why does he have to look like a heartbroken little puppy?

"No. No, it felt really good,” You assure him distractedly, trying to contain the frustration bubbling up inside you.

"Then why can't I-"

"Because!" You don’t mean to lash out, but your temper bursts before you can help it. "God, first Taehyung and now you, why is everyone trying to fuck with me today?"

His face falls, and he looks hurt. "I wasn't fucking with you."

"No, Jimin…” This day just keeps getting better and better. “I know you weren't. I'm sorry." You extend a hand, giving his shoulder a squeeze. It’s not his fault that you can’t seem to follow your own fucking rules. "But please don’t go down on me, not ever, okay?"

"Why not?” He frowns, and you feel even worse for letting this happen. “You deserve it. You do so much for us."

You pause, wondering whether you should lie. Always going for honesty hasn’t worked out too well so far... But looking at Jimin’s eyes, full of concern and confusion, you can’t bring yourself to lie to him. "Because I can't orgasm."

His brow furrows. "Just because it’s not a part of your job, doesn’t mean-"

"No, Jimin." You draw your knees up to your chest, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable for letting your guard down so easily around him. "I literally can't. I'm incapable."

"What do you mean?"

You sigh. This is not something you expected to have to talk about. "Do you know anything about modern birth control?"

He cocks his head to the side, unsure of where you’re going with this. "There are pills, right? And condoms too, I guess."

"There are also implants,” you explain, wringing your hands in your lap.

Jimin blinks, clearly confused. His gaze slides down to your chest for about half a second.

You sigh again. "Not that kind. It's like a piece of plastic they put inside you that emits a hormone. It stops ovaries from creating eggs. They're over 99% effective at preventing pregnancy."

He still looks confused. "Yeah, but why would that make you-"

You shake your head. "That's how most of them work. There's a newer, more tailored kind of implant for PhysComs that's 100% effective." When the technology was discovered, it was a hot item for PhysCom networks. Of course, some people developed negative side effects to it, but if one’s body was compatible with this new miracle form of birth control, it boosted their advantages in the field exponentially.

You let go of your legs and look to him, resignation in your gaze. "It puts the reproductive system into a comatose state and ceases all function of the ovaries and uterus apart from lubrication."

"Oh." Jimin looks shocked, and you don’t blame him. Barely anyone outside of the sex work industry has even heard of the technology. Who else would sacrifice their own pleasure for ensuring zero chance of pregnancy?

You’ve tried to climax before on your own, god knows. But the implant leaves you in a perpetual state of mild arousal with nowhere to go, like constantly revving an engine. Clitoral stimulation feels good at first, but with no resolution, it soon becomes tortuous.

You can put up with it for short periods, like if one of the boys starts to rub you while they fuck you. They mean well. But you’ve learned to convincingly fake an orgasm before it gets to be too much. Most of the time it’s not an issue, since your pleasure doesn’t enter into the equation.

"That's how all of you can cum inside me all the time. It's how I can keep it plugged up in me without any fear of getting pregnant." You laugh humorlessly, tapping the plug at your core.

Jimin stares at the plug, as if it’s presence has taken on an entirely new meaning to him. "I never thought about that."

You actually do laugh at his naïvety. “I’m sure no man would look that gift horse in the mouth.” You realize from his puzzled expression that the idiom might not translate well. “No man would question such a privilege.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess…” A shadow crosses over his face, and you decide to draw this uncomfortable conversation about your reproductive system to a close.

"There is a way to turn it off, in case of emergency side effects. But I can't just turn it off for fun. You have to understand that.” You rest your hand on his shoulder again, hoping he now comprehends the reason for your earlier outburst. “It's a part of my job."

"I understand. Sorry,” he says, giving you a small nod. He twists his mouth to the side, chewing over the revelations. "That must really suck. Not being able to cum."

You laugh heartily this time, your spirits lifted from his sentiment. "Yeah, it does sometimes." You give his thigh a pat and get up to go find your robe. "But I get to make all of you cum for me, so doesn't that make up for it?"

He shrugs, that pout appearing once more. You feel bad for bringing his mood down. You’re supposed to be lifting him up, making him feel good.

You tie the belt of your robe and come back over to him, your finger tracing under his chin.

"Come on, baby. Let's go order that outfit for you."

His spirits seem to lift a little at the proposition and you smile to yourself. Jimin truly is one of your easiest clients to please.

-----

A while later, you stand in Seokjin’s bedroom within his walk-in closet, admiring yourself in the full length mirror. You‘re wearing a gown more expensive than a house, and jewels decorate your throat and hair, elbow-length gloves adorning your hands.

“Are you ready for dinner, darling?” Seokjin purrs in your ear as he slinks up behind you, his hands lightly gliding up your waist.

“Yes, Master Kim.” Your answer is obedient and full of gratitude. You gaze at his reflection in the mirror, letting him take in your appearance.

“My, my, my… look at how lucky I am to have such a pretty pet, hm?” He chuckles, one of his hands skimming gingerly up your ribs and settling on your breast, squeezing you through the silken dress.

“Yes, master,” you sigh, leaning into his sinful touch and playing along with his fantasy. Seokjin's pleasure seems to hinge on your luxury. The more extravagance you’re dripping in, the hornier he gets. Which he often likes to complement with your unique position in the house...

“Such a pretty pet. I bet you’d gladly have us all fuck you on the dinner table, wouldn’t you?”

You shiver. Seokjin’s dirty talk was good when you started working for them, but it’s only improved over time. "Of course, master. I love to be your little fuck toy." You smile at him in the mirror, and then turn around in his arms, placing your hands on his chest. "Please use me tonight, any way you wish."

“That’s the plan, darling.” He chuckles, taking your hands and bringing them up to his mouth, languidly kissing each and every knuckle. His eyes burn with unbridled passion, and you wonder if tonight he’ll be in the mood to fuck you before you even make it to dinner.

Seokjin looks gorgeous, dressed to the nines in a tailored suit, with his hair styled perfectly, not a single strand out of place. Anyone would fall to their knees if they received a look like the one he’s giving you now.

“I have a gift for you, my sweet.” A smile tugs at his lips.

You gasp in delight, your eyes wide and innocent. “I’m so lucky! What is it, master?” You know what it is. He gives you one once a week, every Friday night, when it’s his turn to call the shots.

“Close your eyes, pet.”

You obey, and feel a slim piece of leather grace your throat. In a few moments he tells you to look in the mirror again, and you see a decorative collar circling your neck.

“Oh, master…” You don’t have to pretend to be impressed. Though Jin collars you every week, he never uses the same collar more than once, and this week’s purchase is a decadent, lacy display, with tiny jewels inlaid in its surface. “It’s beautiful.”

His hands are on you again, skimming up your waist while he noses your neck. “A perfect fit for my beautiful slut,” he breathes, and you feel a flutter in the pit of your stomach. Jin is just as charming as the rest of them, and It would be easy to underestimate him, but that would be a grave mistake. He gives off a certain aura of power that’s unparalleled by any other man you’ve met.

“How many?” He asks in a husky whisper, one hand slipping down your back to ease over your ass.

You shiver. Jin gets satisfaction on his night of control by knowing how much cum you’d collected inside you over the course of the day. “Sixteen.”

His hand comes down in a hard spank, rubbing you ass afterward to calm the sting. “Fuck. So greedy…” he rumbles, his voice thick with lust. “That’s more than two rounds each… Did you beg for them to fill you up, like the little whore you are?” His voice is soothing and elegant, a stark contrast to the filth coming from his beautiful mouth.

You nod, biting your lower lip. Anything to hear his silken voice in your ear again.

“You’ll eat well tonight, my sweet…” his voice lilts as he kisses up your neck, his hands slipping up once more to your tits, squeezing them possessively.

You moan softly, leaning your head back to expose more of your throat. Jin’s presence feels secure and thrilling all at once. You know he’ll never hurt you, but the effortless brand of posh dominance he wields keeps you on your toes.

“How do you feel towards Taehyung, pet?”

Your blood runs cold. How did he find out? Did Tae tell him what happened? Fuck. You try to keep your voice even, try not to let yourself become stiff in his arms. “Why do you ask, master?”

Seokjin shrugs one shoulder, more concerned with peeling down the bodice of your dress to reveal your breasts. “He requested the first taste of you tonight. I obviously won’t grant him the privilege of touching my pet if he’s done anything at all to fall out of your good graces.”

You swallow. You don’t know why Tae requested to go first, and you’d rather not give him any more ground until you’ve had a chance to talk to him. To make sure he knows the kiss was a one-time thing. To make sure he hasn’t gotten any ideas about those feelings of his.

“I… I would rather have someone else go first, master.” You say quietly, knowing that refusing Tae’s request could be just as condemning as going through with it and whatever he’d been planning to do to you.

Jin raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t question you. You remind yourself to calm down. For all he knows Taehyung could have eaten all the breakfast cereal. He doesn’t have to know why Tae’s not in your favor right now. “Very well, pet. I’ll choose someone else.”

“Thank you, master.” You visibly relax, and let Seokjin play with your tits. He circles his thumbs over your nipples, and they quickly become erect under his touch.

“Do you know why I gave you this collar?” He murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he licks up your neck.

You know. “Why, master?”

“Because tonight you’ll be passed around and fucked by all of us. Every member of this household.” His words are crisp, in delicious contrast with his soft hands massaging your breasts. “You’ll be our dessert course. I want them to remember that you’re mine and that I’m granting them the privilege of fucking my sweet little toy and having a taste of you.” He nips at your neck, sucking gently before pulling away. “And I want you to remember that you belong to no one else in that room but myself.” He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging at the sensitive buds. “You obey me, and me alone. Is that understood?”

You whimper and nod. “Yes, Master Kim.”

“What a good little slut.” He smiles serenely and gives each tit a light swat before tugging your bodice back over your chest.

There’s a moment of tender silence as he observes you in the mirror. His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s set his act aside for a brief moment. “You know, you’re really good at this.” He smiles appreciatively, giving you a warm hug around the middle and nuzzling into your neck.

You laugh at his break in character, laying your arms atop his. “It’s my job to be good at it,” you reply with a fond roll of your eyes.

He straightens his posture and adjusts his cufflinks, resuming his role seamlessly. “We’ll be starting the main course in thirty minutes. Be prepared.”

You nod obediently, and he hovers close to you once more. His tongue darts out to lick up your cheek possessively. “Be good while I’m away, pet.”

You watch as he leaves the room, the door shutting softly behind him. Well, you have half an hour of time to kill before they’re ready for you.

Pretty soon after you were hired, the boys’ company decided it would be a good idea for them to take turns living out their wildest fantasies with you. One night of the week is dedicated to each of them, and during that night, whoever’s in charge can do whatever they want with you, and the other boys have to either watch or join in. Their company said it’s good for group bonding, and for healthy sexual expression. The boys decided who would have which night through rock, paper, scissors, and Seokjin got slotted for Fridays.

Something about Seokjin’s banquet nights always give you jitters, as if you’re about to perform onstage. Well, if you count a tabletop as a stage. Regardless, you always find ways to relax before the show, so to speak.

Tonight you’ve decided to kill the time on your ComGear, with the few limited apps you’re allowed to have. You’ve become a master at solitaire and minesweeper, and as you take a seat on the chaise lounge, kicking your feet up, you select the hardest difficulty mode.

Honestly, you haven’t played a good game of solitaire in several weeks. But last banquet night you finished the novel you’d been reading and you’re now suffering from a severe hangover from the detailed and colorful universe the author had crafted. The next book in the series isn’t set to release for a few months, so until then you’re back at the games.

Easy. You beat the game in under ten minutes. There have to be some more difficulty levels. You switch to the settings menu and scroll until you find the gameplay options.

Huh. Strange. An option you don’t remember seeing before. ‘Connect and play with your friends!’ Psh, what friends? Did your network forget to disable the useless feature? Curious, you tap on the button and are greeted with a spinning circle, indicating that the game is probably trying to find your non-existent friends from your non-existent contact list. ComGears are so heavily restricted, they might as well be walkie talkies. All you’re allowed on there is messaging and scheduling between you, your clients, and your handler. Plus the games. But you’d requested those.

After several moments, you give up waiting and put the Gear away. You have more pressing issues on your mind, and solitaire isn’t enough of a distraction.

Why had Taehyung requested you first tonight? In fact, why had he disappeared right after the… kissing incident? He hasn’t messaged you since then, and the lack of closure is starting to make you antsy. You can trust him, right? Yesterday, you would have said so, undoubtedly. But you also wouldn’t have guessed that he had anything more than platonic feelings for you.

God, men are so complicated.

You groan and stand up, spending the rest of your down time doing your stretches, going through your positive affirmations, and trying not to worry about Taehyung. He’s under Jin’s control tonight, nothing bad will happen.

You hope.

-------

The dining room of the house is enormous, with high ceilings, chandeliers, and ornate paintings on the walls. Seokjin goes all out for his banquets and makes the room seem even more opulent with the addition of candlelight, a trained wait staff, and vases full of roses found on nearly every surface. Formal dress is required, and all the other boys are dressed just as fancily as Seokjin, though not all of them can pull it off quite as elegantly. He makes sure to hire a string quartet, the most elite caterers, and he even calls in the secondary PhysComs to assist during the meal.

You see, Seokjin has a very specific type of kink he likes to experience. It has to do with food, but it’s not exactly considered foodplay. Jin loves to combine fine dining with sexual acts.

During the first course, PhysComs are beneath the table, sucking off each member while they taste their soups and salads. They’re not allowed to cum until desert, so the PhysComs are only there to get them hard and ready.

The second course marks the beginning of the voyeurism. A fish course is served while a PhysCom is strapped down to the table and teased with at least one vibrator, moans and whimpers filling the room in harmony with the string quartet. Seokjin encourages the boys to talk about their week so far for some family time, largely ignoring the sinful sounds coming from their overstimulated centerpiece.

During the third course, sex is performed on the table by any number or gender of willing PhysComs, while the boys are forced to watch while they eat the stew you made. Jin often likes to give commentary on the PhysCom’s forms, or occasionally direct them around.

Lastly is the dessert course, where you make your grand entrance. All their hungry, lust-crazed eyes are on you, horny as hell from all the buildup. A maid brings you in on a leash, attached to your collar. You walk past the cluster of secondaries, and they aim stares at you, some jealous, some of admiration. You don’t care. Your eyes are on Seokjin. Your owner for the evening.

He stands as you enter, his eyes burning with barely contained lust. “Ladies and gentlemen. I present to you, our dessert.”

The other boys rise as well, and you can sense Taehyung’s stare burning into you, but you avoid meeting his gaze. Your eyes are locked on Seokjin. He orders the maid to help you up, and soon you’re standing atop the table, all eyes upon you. She hands the leash to him. You await his orders.

“Take off your dress, dear.” Seokjin says, sitting back down, and the other boys follow suit. His voice is quiet, but the atmosphere is so charged with sexual tension, you could hear a pin drop.

You reach behind to undo your zipper, the noise simply sinful as your dress falls to the tablecloth, pooling around your feet. You hear a few inhales of breath from around the table.

“Bring the bowl.” Jin’s voice commands again, and a butler hurries over with a jewel encrusted dish, setting it at Seokjin’s right. After that, he dismisses all the other people in the room. The only ones left are you and the seven men around the table.

Jin takes the dog bowl, holding it up to the light and watching the way the crystals shimmer and gleam. “How many loads did you take today, my pet?”

“Sixteen,” you reply obediently, and you see Yoongi’s jaw clench from the corner of your eye.

Jin makes a rumble in his throat, like an affirmative. “So much cum to fit in such tight little holes.”

You nod, awaiting his instructions.

He licks his lips and places the bowl at your feet. “Empty yourself out for me, darling.”

You smile. Kneeling down over the dog bowl, you carefully remove the plug from your cunt, and moan as you feel their cum start to trickle out of you.

You can feel their eyes staring, faces flushed, lips bitten, as their combined releases drip into the dish, slowly coating the bottom.

Seokjin’s hands are tented in front of his face, hiding all but his glittering eyes from view. “Now your ass,” he murmurs huskily, and they all watch as you twist that plug out too, and even more cum joins the rest. Sixteen loads from throughout the day fill the dish, and you look to Seokjin, awaiting further instruction.

“Jimin.” He says, and the boy’s ears perk up. “Would you do the honors of fucking her first?”

Jimin scrambles up, as if unable to move fast enough. He climbs onto the table and unzips his pants, his hands shaking. Meanwhile, Jin orders you on all fours and pushes the dish closer to you. “Why don’t you enjoy your dinner, my pet? It’s been cooking all day.”

He takes such filthy pleasure in scenes like this, it makes your core clench just from the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. “Yes, master.”

You lean down and start to lap at the bowl. You can feel Jimin’s hands on your ass, but… something’s wrong. Why isn’t he fucking you?

You crane your neck over your shoulder to look at him, a “what the fuck” look on your face for interrupting the flow of the scene, and see something unexpected. Hesitation colors Jimin’s expression, and he looks between you and Seokjin, seemingly torn.

Everyone’s eyes are on you.

Jimin leans over to speak privately, his tone lowered so only you can hear. “Do… do you want to be fucked right now?”

Your mouth hangs open in shock. Why the hell would he be concerned about that?

Seokjin realizes that something isn’t right, and he snaps his fingers. “Jimin, sit down. Hoseok, go fuck her.”

Hoseok is always a good fuck. He grins and climbs on the table, fishing his cock out of his dress slacks. “Ah, look at this ass. Pretty as always,” he chuckles and gives you a light spank before lining himself up with your entrance. He pushes into you with a heated groan, his hands groping you appreciatively. “So wet, baby…” Soon he’s snapping his hips into you at a good pace, filling you up with his length.

But you can’t focus. You stare at Jimin, sitting shamefully with his head bent. You look to Taehyung, sitting across from him, only to see a smirk on his face. What the hell is going on?

Taehyung subtly catches Jimin’s attention and mouths something to him, but of course it’s Korean, so you can’t make out the words as Hoseok pounds into you. Jimin’s eyes widen and his grip tightens on the stem of his wine glass, his knuckles white as his expression changes to one of anger. Tae merely smirks and sits back in his chair, a challenge in his eyes.

What the fuck is happening? Is this about you?

Your heart sinks through the floor. It has to be. You and your damn lips are the only common denominator in this equation.

Hoseok grabs your leash from Jin and tugs on it, the collar forcing your head back. Your neck feels like it might snap from the sudden strain of trying to keep watching their silent conversation, but it’s no use from this angle, and you give up, forced to stare at the ceiling as your legs quiver and anxiety washes over you, a sense of foreboding starting to build in your chest...

Someone jumps to their feet, their chair scraping back from the force, and something crashes to the ground with the unmistakable noise of breaking glass.

“Jimin!” Seokjin’s voice cuts through the sound of Hobi fucking you, and he halts his thrusts. You’re able to see again, pants of breath from Hoseok filling the silence as Jimin looks down, frustrated at being reprimanded. “What’s gotten into you? Sit down, now.”

Taehyung chuckles, seemingly satisfied with himself, and Jin looks to him with narrowed eyes. “That goes for both of you. Stop fucking around.”

“Yes, sir.” Taehyung merely shrugs. You can see Jungkook place a hand on Jimin’s arm, his eyes wide with concern as he helps him calm down and return to his seat. Namjoon shoots Taehyung a look, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, his eyes still fixed on Jimin.

Seokjin’s attention turns back to your display, sighing from the interruption, and he gestures for Hoseok to go harder on you. Hoseok is all too happy to comply, chuckling as he pushes down on your back, forcing your face into the bowl of cum as he pulls out of you and starts fucking into your ass instead.

Normally this is part of the proceedings. But this time you aren’t prepared, too distracted and worried by Taheyung and Jimin to focus properly, and you gasp into the bowl, choking on the pool of stickiness and sputtering on cum as you turn your face away to try and catch your breath.

Seokjin has no reason to sense anything is amiss with you, as you would sometimes struggle for show. He hums and pets your hair as you’re fucked into the table. You try to inhale, but your lungs won’t work.

You feel suffocated by the weird tension in the room, and your heart starts pounding in your ears. You know this is your fault. The other boys all look uncomfortable. Jimin’s shooting daggers at Taehyung, and Tae is glaring right back. This isn’t right.

You just need a minute to think, a minute to sort this out, to fucking talk to them and clear this up. Fuck, you want Hobi to stop. You want everything to stop. You feel overwhelmed, you can’t take it anymore, and you’re flooded with shame as tears spring to your eyes.

“Bulletproof!”

You cry out your safe word, a sob wracking your body. “Fuck! I’m sorry...”

It takes Hoseok a split second to realize what you said before he pulls out of you, his eyes wide with worry. The others all look just as shocked, and Jin jumps to his feet in an instant, helping you off the table. “What can I do, darling?” He asks with concern, grabbing a napkin and carefully wiping the cum off your face.

He doesn’t question why you broke character, he only wants to help, and that makes you want to cry harder. But you pull yourself together, inhaling deeply to keep any more tears from falling. There’s only one person who can help you clear your head, and your gaze turns to him, your voice wavering. “I need to speak privately with Kim Namjoon.”

All eyes fall on their leader, who looks just as surprised to be requested. “Uh, yeah. Sure thing.” Namjoon gets up, his high backed chair scraping against the polished wooden floor as he circles around the table to you.

Namjoon is the conduit between them and their company. An ambassador of sorts. If anyone could help you sort this out, it would be him.

As he comes over, he takes off his suit jacket, draping the garment over your shoulders to help cover your naked form. “We’ll just be a minute, guys,” he calls over his shoulder, one supportive hand on your back as he guides you into the other room, leaving behind a different sort of tension, one of fear and worry.

-------

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Namjoon says softly, shutting the door behind him. He’s taken you to one of the larger bathrooms, with a few areas to sit in addition to a toilet, soaking tub, shower stalls, and a few sinks. “Is everything okay?”

Clearly it isn’t, but him trying to bring some normalcy into the situation makes you want to cry all over again. “No, it’s not.” You sit down on a cushioned bench, covering you face with your hands. “Fuck, I’m so sorry…”

“No, no. Shh… it’s okay, honey, really.” His hand on your back is more of a comfort than you’d care to admit, and you find yourself wishing he would hold you, wishing you could cry in his arms.

But no, damn it, that’s what’s gotten you into trouble in the first place.

“Mr. Kim, I-”

“Please, call me Namjoon. I don’t mind.” He gives you a small smile, and his willingness to be informal with you adds another layer of comfort.

“Namjoon.” You start again, and he looks to you with sincerity. “I, uh… fuck, I don’t know how to explain this.” You give a rueful laugh, running a hand through your hair.

“It’s okay. Take all the time you need.” He rubs your back soothingly, offering you a tissue from a nearby box to dry your eyes.

“Thanks.” You blow your nose, and a part of you feels self-conscious, letting him see you this way. You haven’t been this out of character in front of him since you were hired. “Um… okay. So, earlier today, two of the other members kissed me. I didn’t want it to happen, but it did...” It tumbles out of you in a rush, and you glance down nervously. Damn. This the third time you’ve lowered your walls in front of them today. What the hell is happening?

He seems to chew on your statement for a moment before proceeding, his tone cautious. “It was against your will? They forced themselves on you?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “No! No, they didn’t- it wasn’t like that. It was… nice.” You’re ashamed to admit that you took pleasure in breaking your own rules, but you can’t let him think they were forcing you to do it. “I enjoyed it.”

He looks more confused. “So, you did want it to happen…?”

“Not at first! I mean… ugh, I shouldn’t have let it happen at all.” You grouse, still kicking yourself for being so unprofessional. “I think at least one of them might… have developed feelings for me.”

A moment of clarity lights his eyes. “You’re worried about keeping up boundaries.”

You nod miserably. Thank god someone in this house understands your limits.

“Who was it?”

“Huh?” Your gaze snaps to him.

He repeats the question. “Who kissed you?”

Your eyes lower to the floor. You feel bad dropping names, but he probably has a good reason for asking. “Taehyung and Jimin.”

His mouth stretches into a thin line. “I see.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like they’re trying to breach my professional boundaries. But... I like it. But I shouldn’t!” You groan. “Fuck, I have to keep this job...” A weary sigh leaves your throat and you try to keep your tears at bay this time.

Namjoon makes a noise of understanding. He seems to ponder the problem for a moment before speaking. “Those two are young. They’re still figuring out their feelings.” He says it to comfort you, you’re sure. But you decide not to point out that he’s only a year older than them. “But I think I know how to fix this.”

You sit up straight. “You do? How?”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples poking through. “Like I said, they’re young. They want what they can’t have.” He smirks. “You made kissing off-limits, right? So they want it now.”

You’re following his logic so far. It would make sense that something off-limits is more tantalizing… that’s certainly how you felt when kissing them.

He continues. “Look, if you liked it, then that means it’ll happen again. No offense, but willpower is damned when it comes to matters of the heart.” He gives a wry chuckle.

“Remind me how we’re fixing the situation?” You ask skeptically, wrapping his jacket around yourself and nudging him with your arm.

He smiles. “It’s simple, really. I think you have to desensitize them to kissing. We need to show them it doesn’t mean anything that they kissed you. You’re still just their PhysCom.”

You blink, still at a loss. “How do we do that?”

His thumb brushes your cheek, and he has that same tender look in his eyes as he does right after you would get him off.

“I think we should go out there, and I should kiss you senseless, sweetheart.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts fic rec #jimin x reader #jin x reader #taehyung x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #the other boys will get more screentime dw <3 #thank you all for enjoying physcom! <3

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7-wonders · 5 years

Text

Twilight, Eat Your Heart Out

Summary: Pondering your own mortality is never a good long-term solution, especially when you have to compare it to the immortal vampire you’ve found yourself entangled in a relationship with.

Word Count: 4209

A/N: Vampire Michael is back! I hope you enjoy this; feedback is always appreciated and, if you feel so inclined, I would love if you liked, reblogged, or commented.

Jealousy, in any sense of the word, is not an emotion that you’re very familiar with. Of course, there were occasions throughout school where you felt wrongfully snubbed of an award or a grade, certain that you deserved a higher score. Never before have you been in a relationship where just the mere sight of your lover with another person fills you with self-doubt and envy. You’re better than that; your happiness and sense of fulfillment, you’ve always believed, does not rely on another person. At least, that seemed to be the case before you got yourself entangled with a suave, mysterious Antichrist who just so happens to also be a vampire.

Entering into a relationship (you wouldn’t dare to call him your boyfriend, or even use the word ‘dating’ to describe the odd situation that you’ve found yourself in) with arguably the most dangerous creature in the world was not something you had penciled into your five year plan. Lately, it seems like nothing is going according to the plan that you had meticulously crafted upon graduating college and landing your job at Kineros. You weren’t expecting to have your first bona fide lover, nor did you believe that you would suddenly learn about the warring forces that are essentially playing a game of chess and using humans as the pawns. You also never thought that you would be an accessory to murder.

Multiple murders, at that.

Blood bags don’t satiate Michael, who always complains that blood is so much better when it comes directly from the ‘source.’ In an attempt to quell Michael’s more...sadistic tendencies, you’ve offered to allow him to drink from you whenever he needs to. Shockingly enough, it turns out that even the cruelest of vampires, the one who is arguably the ruler of all others of his species, has a heart when it comes to certain humans. He had explained to you how taking blood from you multiple times a week, no matter how small the amount, would eventually kill you. So here you are, standing in some alleyway acting as the bait for Michael’s next meal.

This routine hasn’t seemed to get any easier since the first time Michael asked you on a hunt with him. Lure in an unsuspecting victim who has less-than-innocent intentions with you, guide them back far enough to where any wayward screams won’t be heard, and let Michael handle the rest. A fairly simple ploy, but one that never failed to have your stomach curdling with some sort of negative emotion. Before tonight, you had never been able to pinpoint what this foreign feeling was.

It’s while you’re watching Michael pin tonight’s prey, a pretty brunette that had been planning on robbing you, against a wall that you start to realize what this might be. The low lighting that the street lamps cast into the alley glints off of his talon ring, which he uses to quickly and precisely slit open the woman’s throat. His hand tangles in her hair, yanking her head back and allowing him to drink deeply from the flowing wound. She moans weakly, pathetically, and you become aware of something else that’s nestled right beside the disgust that forces you to avert your eyes from the gory scene.

You’re jealous. Not only are you jealous, but you’re jealous of the woman that Michael’s currently draining dry. You understand why everything about this situation looks so intimate; Michael’s nature, of course, is seduction. His ethereal beauty and dangerous charm are integral in beguiling his victims, and he’s going to use these weapons to his advantage. Still, the intimacy of this situation has you nearly doubling over in disgust.

Michael, finally satisfied with his meal, carelessly discards the barely-breathing woman on the ground like she’s little more than an empty wrapper. He grins up at you, blood-stained teeth glinting in the light of the moon. Gracefully stepping over the body, he approaches you slowly and fluidly. It’s almost as if he’s a predator stalking his prey, although that isn’t too much of a stretch; you are, after all, human. There’s hardly any mess on his face, always the clean eater.

“You certainly do have a way of picking the most delicious meals for me, pet.” Michael darts his tongue out, licking a few stray drops of blood from his lips before capturing your lips in a kiss. The copper taste of his kisses, while familiar by now, are still something you don’t think you’ll ever get used to. “Shall we be on our way? The night is, after all, still young.”

“Don’t you need to clean up this mess first?” Michael smirks, waving one of his bejeweled hands in the air nonchalantly.

“A simple phone call is all it takes, nothing to worry about.” He slings his arm around you, silver talon coming dangerously close to puncturing your shirt and your shoulder.

As you leave with Michael, you can’t help but cast your glance to the glassy eyes of the corpse that lay sprawled on the ground. Although there’s no sign of life left in her body, you swear you can feel her stare follow you when you round the corner.

This trend continues for the next two weeks, with every feed that you help bring to Michael invoking that same fiery jealousy in the pit of your stomach. These people, you know, are nothing more than food to Michael. But the way that he looks at them right before he strikes, convincing them that they’re safe and to give themselves over to him, makes you realize that you’re not special. That tender look, which you thought was special only to you, is just another play in Michael’s book. Slowly, you start to become aware of the fact that maybe it’s not just jealousy that you feel whenever Michael must partake in a feed.

You’re scared, as well.

Every human that he kills, every possible victim that walks past you when you’re scouting for Michael, reminds you that there is a very thin line separating them from you. You could just as easily be Michael’s next kill, the vampire draining you and leaving your body on the wet pavement with little more than a glance that one might give a dead deer on the side of the road. Michael claims to be fond of you, says that he couldn’t imagine killing you, but you know just how volatile Michael’s kind are. One day he could be your lover, and the next day he could be your killer. It’s a fact that remains in the back of your mind, always making sure you’re alert for any changes in his emotions towards you.

When you meet one of Michael’s oldest friends (both in age and amount of time that they’ve known each other), that fear morphs into dread. The Countess, as she’s known as, owns the Hotel Cortez and uses its’ guests as her food source, which Michael considers to be a genius move. She’s radiant, mysterious, and absolutely gorgeous; you start to wonder if every vampire becomes ethereally beautiful when they’re turned, or if attractiveness is a prerequisite to vampirism. She had appeared suddenly, visiting with Michael in his plush office when you arrived for a “late night of work.” You were stunned by this goddess sitting opposite your lover, the two clutching crystal glasses of blood.

“Elizabeth, allow me to introduce you to (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Michael said warmly, standing with his visitor on his arm. “(Y/N), this is the Countess, my closest confidante for the past hundred years or so.”

She held her hand out for you to take, a talon ring all-too-similar to Michael’s digging into the skin of your wrist when she pulled you towards her. “What a stunning creature you are, my dear.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” you said in a voice an octave higher than your usual, causing Michael and the Countess to have laughed.

“My, my, Michael, it has been quite some time since you’ve found yourself enamoured with a human in this way. Why, the last had to have been Oscar, back in the late eighteen hundreds?” The Countess smiled wistfully. “It always did amuse me, how he would rather come up with the fanatical idea that you had a portrait stashed away somewhere that grew old in your place instead of believing what he had seen to be true.”

You had been jarred out of your semi-stunned state upon the familiarity of this man’s idea. “Wait, are you telling me that Michael once had a relationship with Oscar Wilde?” The two smiled conspiratorially, choosing to remain coyly silent instead of telling you if your suspicion is true.

“My dear Countess, we have not had the chance to reconnect since the turn of the century. For all you know, I could have had a harem of human lovers in that time,” Michael cooed.

“I know you too well for that to be more than a fantasy. Say, has it really been that long since we’ve last seen one another?” The Countess spoke, leaving you mildly upset that the two were basically talking directly above your head.

“Unfortunately.”

The platinum vampire sighed. “Nothing like the rich blood of those who indulged themselves due to their belief that they would die when the calendar changed to the year two thousand. Of course,” she smiled patronizingly at you, “you were hardly more than a babe then, weren’t you?”

You tightly returned her smile as Michael chuckled at his friend’s joke, the two continuing with their reminiscing. Eventually that night, you had left early, feigning exhaustion from a long week in order to get out of the awkward situation. Awkward for you, at least. For the two immortal beings, you’re sure you were little more than a pest, a persistent fly that finally managed to find an exit through a window.

It’s not as if you’re angry that they made fun of your youth. You can’t place the blame on two creatures who have lived hundreds of years combined for picking on how you’ve only existed for a mere blip on their timelines. Instead, the two inadvertently opened your eyes to what lay underneath all of the jealousy. A lingering sadness wraps itself around you, reminding you it’s there from the moment you wake up, and whispering in your ear to lull you to sleep. You’re sure that Michael’s noticed the change in your mood by now, being so attuned to your thoughts and feelings even without the fledgling link that had been created through him consistently feeding from you.

As a person who relies on logic and research, you love facts. With this situation, however, the facts of the matter are not too appealing to analyze. For starters, you like Michael Langdon, a lot more than you’re supposed to. What had started as a simple ‘enemies with benefits’ situation has evolved into something that you never saw coming: your life is now a bad vampire fanfiction. What kind of human falls in love a relationship with a vampire who feeds from them in exchange for immunity and confidential information? You can only pray to whatever’s out there that this affection you’ve developed isn’t sensed by Michael, lest he decide to prey on you even more than he already does.

Even if you didn’t care for Michael like you do, it’s impossible to deny just how introspective you’ve become since meeting the Countess. Maybe it’s because you had been so swept up in the enigma that is Michael, but after he pierced your neck with his fangs while having you pinned against your desk, you sort of forgot about the fact that Michael’s going to remain the same as he’s always been. More specifically, you forgot that you won’t remain the same. It was easy to imagine him as your equal, with you holding the leverage of your tantalizing blood over his head and using that to your advantage. You became an odd team, helping Michael to successfully hunt and kill people whose deaths wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion.

When the Countess reminded you of that fact, of how you came into the picture in what’s essentially the opposite of dog years (does every vampire year equal 70 human years?), it forced that issue of immortality versus mortality to center stage. No matter how your attempt to change the phrase, the words mean the same thing: you are going to grow older and die, while Michael will be the same as he’s always been and continue to go on without you. It’s not as if this is new information for you, considering one of the first things Michael told you was how he’s been on the Earth for over 400 years. It is, however, something you’ve deliberately avoided thinking about while trying to navigate the schematics of suddenly taking up company with a vampire.

Michael could, of course, give you immortality to allow you to live for eternity with him, but who’s to say that he’ll even still continue to tolerate you beyond next month? Immortality is a gift to Michael and his kind, and it’s not a gift to be given out frivolously. All humans are, all you are, at the end of the day, to Michael, is a meal. Nothing more. He could easily decide that he’s bored of you, his new human toy, and drain you of every drop of your blood until you’re just as lifeless as the corpses you’ve watched him devour lately. Humans are expendable, a renewable resource that Michael is determined to cultivate when he brings about the apocalypse in order to fulfill his father’s wishes.

Even if Michael weren’t to get bored of you, it seems like he just brings in a new human to capture his attention until they, too, die. It’s a constantly revolving door of human lovers, you realize, ones who do nothing but serve as distractions for the vampiric Antichrist until the time comes for his ‘mission.’ What makes you better than Oscar Wilde? The man based one of his greatest works on Michael and penned many an eloquent letter for his blond-haired lover, only for said lover to allow him to be exiled and dead from meningitis. If he didn’t want to take the most well-versed and passionate of his lovers to be his eternal companion, what would make him want to take you? You are, after all, a mere researcher at a robotics company whose greatest accomplishment will likely be nothing more than improving sex robots (at least that’s what you tell yourself).

It’s a train of thought that makes you especially melancholic. Why even bother to continue associating with Michael if he’s just going to toss you out like trash when you’re one day old and withered? It’s never good on one’s psyche to ponder mortality for an extended amount of time, but it’s all you can think about whenever you see Michael. So, like any person who’s not good at confronting their emotions would do, you ignore the source of all of this inner turmoil. While that’s easier said than done, all you really have to do is get work done during the day and lock yourself in your house at night. Easy, right?

You’ve managed to exponentially increase your productivity at work during the daytime, eliminating your need to work into the evening hours in an effort to finish your projects. The hardest part is the evening, when you can hear Michael crooning through your apartment door in that honey-laced voice to just let him in, pulling out every pet name in the book in an attempt to persuade you. You almost gave in a couple of nights ago, hand on the doorknob before you stumbled back and hid under the covers in your bedroom. After that night, though, he finally seemed to get the hint and left you alone. You’re lonely, lonelier than you’ve been since you first met Michael, but it’s for the best.

Tonight, it seems as if your week of avoiding interaction with a certain mysterious blond is finally catching up with you. You get home late, the moon already hanging high in the sky by the time you finish getting drinks with a couple of friends. Unlocking your front door, you can immediately tell that something’s off. The window, which was closed before you left, is now open, the curtains billowing inwards. Your heart beats wildly for a few moments, until you catch Michael’s distinctive scent: expensive cologne and something woodsy, both masking the metallic smell of blood that always follows him.

“I know you’re here, Dracula, you big fucking nerd,” you grumble, shutting the door behind you and tossing your keys on the counter.

“Why do you continue to insist on calling me that horrendous nickname?” You can’t see where he’s at, but you can hear his voice coming from somewhere in the kitchen.

“Sorry, Mephistopholes, it won’t happen again.” You only jump slightly when, in a split second, Michael’s got his arms wrapped around you from behind and his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” It’s not a question; he knows it just as well as you do.

“And what if I am?”

“Well, I certainly don’t enjoy it. I also don’t like thinking I’ve upset you in some way.” Michael grabs you by your shoulders, spinning you around and backing you against the kitchen counter so he can look at you. “So? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. I’ve just been tired, haven’t really wanted to see anyone lately,” you shrug, staring at the shine on Michael’s shoes. Your eyes widen when his large hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up towards him.

“You know, I don’t tolerate liars, (Y/N). I could very well just read your thoughts to figure out what’s troubling you, but I won’t because you’ve told me how uncomfortable that makes you. So, you can either tell me know, or we can stand here like this until you decide you’re ready to talk like an adult instead of giving me your childish silent treatment,” Michael snaps.

“What if it’s because of your attitude, hm?”

“It’s not,” Michael says with his eyes narrowed, daring you to try and come up with another excuse. “I’m giving you one more chance before my patience runs out, (Y/N).”

“You’re infuriating,” you scoff, pushing him off of you (surprisingly, he lets you) and stalking off towards your bedroom.

“Is it something to do with work? Did one of the victims that you caught for me actually touch you? Did the Countess scare you?” He knows he’s got you when your back stiffens at his last guess, breathing hitching before you walk faster. Unfortunately, due to his speed, Michael’s already sitting perched on your bed by the time you cross into the room. “So the Countess scared you?”

“Shut up about it, please.”

“I’m not going to. I care about you, and I don’t want to see you upset in any way.”

“You care about me?” Michael nods, not sensing the sarcasm in your voice. “Just like you cared about all of your other lovers, who you then cast out and let die when they grew boring to you?”

When you turn around to glare at him, Michael’s already staring at you with those wide blue eyes. Instead of getting angry, or firing back, things you expect him to do, he just reaches out a hand and grabs your own. He remains silent, probably to let you calm down while you continue to throw daggers at him with your eyes, and you allow him to pull you onto his lap.

“Hearing about my previous human lovers frightened you?”

“Not in the sense of, ‘oh, I’m jealous that he’s been with others before me.’ It frightens me how insignificant a role in your eternal life I’ll play,” you confess.

“Why do you believe that?” Michael’s not asking this question to be condescending, you know, but to truly understand the thought process behind your feelings.

“I’m a mere blip on your timeline; I barely take up any space, considering how long you’ve lived and how long you will live. I’m like a fucking baby compared to you, and I truly don’t know anything about the world in the way that you do. Why am I to believe that I’m anything different compared to all of the other human partners you’ve taken? You haven’t turned any of them, and there’s no way that you’ll turn me. Even if you don’t grow tired of me within the next few months, I will grow old and die; it’s inevitable. I’ll die, and you’ll continue on with living.”

“But in the meantime--” you cut Michael off, too fired up to let him speak.

“In the meantime, I’m a meal. That’s all humans are to you and your kind. You can sugarcoat it all you want, say that I’m your ‘lover’ and that you ‘cherish’ me, but at the end of the day, I’m nothing more than a to-go meal for you. Your entire mission is to let Hell rule on Earth, and enslave the best, most tasty humans as your blood bags. Who’s to say that I won’t wake up to you draining me one day? I help you get your meals, but the only thing separating them from me is that I managed to make you laugh long enough to escape death.”

Michael knows that you have some valid points and a right to be upset by them. Tears brim your eyes, but you refuse to allow him to see you cry or show any more vulnerability than you’ve already been forced to. He kisses the back of your hand over and over again, calming you down before he speaks.

“Do you know why I have never turned any of my previous human partners?” You shake your head, shrugging. “It’s because, although I have loved each and every one of them very much, I knew that they were not compatible with eternity. None of them would be able to handle the burden that an immortal life comes with. Sometimes, they also choose to turn down my offer. I have only offered the gift to three people in my lifetime, and all three of them said no.”

“So the Countess…?”

“Is not one of my creations, no. In fact, I have yet to make a creation.”

“Why have they said no, then?”

“There was a man,” Michael says slowly, fondly, “who I was very much enamored with. It was over a hundred years ago, but I can still remember everything about him like it was yesterday. He’s the last mortal I’ve ever offered to turn, and he refused. Said that he didn’t want to live long enough to see what became of his works. He told me that his mortal life was painful enough, and that he rather wouldn’t extend it for an indeterminate amount of time. I was...heartbroken. I vowed that I would never allow myself to get close to a human again, and that I would never offer anyone the gift for as long as I lived.”

“Michael, I’m so sorry.” You reach for his face, gently tracing your fingers along his jawline.

“No need to be sorry, I’ve long since moved on.” He kisses your cheeks, letting his forehead fall against yours. “I didn’t tell you this to get pity from you. I told you this so that you would understand that I don’t treat all humans as my prey. I have a...talent, if you will, a sort of night vision for the soul. I can see exactly who each person truly is, no matter how they try to hide it.”

“So I passed that test, then?”

Michael chuckles, “you did, and so has every human I’ve ever been fond of. I can’t promise you much: eternity, that I’ll be the lover you need me to be, or even regular dates. But I can promise you that, no matter what happens, you will always hold a special place in my heart.”

“Right next to Oscar Wilde?” you prod with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Hypothetically, if I had been in a relationship with Oscar Wilde, then yes.” He’s deliberately careful with how he chooses his words, enjoying stringing you out on this mystery.

“Thank you,” you kiss him softly. “I’m sorry for being annoying lately.”

“You weren’t annoying, not in the slightest.” Michael shifts you on his lap, so you’re now straddling him. “Are you feeling better now?”

“I am.”

“Good, I can’t stand to see you upset.” His fangs are peeking over the top of his full bottom lip, and you grin before lightly touching the point.

“Are you hungry? It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve fed from me, we should be good.” You start to sweep your hair away from your neck, but Michael stops you.

“I am hungry, but it’s a...different type of hunger,” he alludes, making your face heat up as he rapidly changes positions so you’re lying on your back. “Let me show you just how special you are to me, darling.”

//////////////////////

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noonachronicles · 5 years

Text

Everlong Pt. 2

Kwon Jiyong/ G Dragon X Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Mildly vulgar language.

Genre: Hades/Jiyong. Greek God AU. Fantasy.

A/N: Thanks everyone for your patience, while I was off galavanting with GOT7 this weekend. Update Tag: @kathrynwynterbourne

Moodboard by bae, @memoiresofaneternaldreamer

It wasn’t very hard for you to admit that you didn’t like a lot of people. The bar you had set as far as your expectations of others, you thought, was low. Yet people always found a way to disappoint you. It was because of this that you didn’t really keep a lot of friends and you didn’t waste time with acquaintances. You’d remember the names of your regulars and maybe a key point or two about their lives to ask about, but that was really only because it made for better tips. You never shared information about yourself in return, nothing much beyond your name anyway. Even your coworkers knew very little about you.

So it came as a bit of a shock to you that when Jiyong continued to show up at the cafe you weren’t entirely annoyed by his presence. In fact, you began to look forward to it. Most of the guys that would come around all the time were creeps that wanted to make a pass at either you or your coworkers and they were always less than subtle about it. Jiyong was different, he didn’t actually seem to want to make a pass at you or anyone else at all. You’d started to notice he never even made conversation with anyone.

He’d come in, usually in a tailor fitted suit or some other outfit that he’d likely paid too much for. He would order his big mug of just espresso shots and a different dessert than he’d gotten the time before. Then he would sit at either a table or the coffee bar, cross one leg over the other, and open his little leather notebook. Sometimes he’d just sit there for hours, mug after mug of espresso shots, flipping through his notebook or watching the other customers curiously. Never saying anything to anyone unless they spoke to him first.

The first night he’d come in he had tried talking to you for sometime. You gave him your name. Told him how long you’d worked at the shop and what your favorite drink was to make. Though he suspected that was a lie. He could tell easily that you didn’t want to reveal too much about yourself. That you weren’t immediately as interested in him as much as he was in you. In response he decided early on that he’d have to change his approach with you.

Instead of pressing you into communicating with him he left you to yourself. He didn’t ever say much to you after the first night. At most a kind greeting and a thank you when you gave him his drink. Your coworkers found him especially charming and would often come by to where he was sitting and ask him how his day was or what his plans were for the weekend and he’d happily tell them. On more than one occasion he caught you watching those conversations with the slightest hints of longing and jealousy on your face but when you saw him looking at you they were quick to disappear.

At one point, nearly a month after he’d started coming into the cafe, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You were itching with anxiety, wondering why he didn’t seem to want to talk to you but apparently loved talking to everyone else. On a very slow night he was sitting at one of the tables with his leg crossed over the other flipping through his notebook, which you would swear you’d never once seen him write anything in, and you decided it was time.

Casually leaning against the other chair at the table he was at you asked him what he was up to and if he needed anything. He politely said declined and then went back to his notebook. Unable to stop the urge you stomped your foot on the ground like an ignored child and asked him why he didn’t want to talk to you. With pure amusement glistening in his eyes he looked back up at you and said he’d wanted to talk to no one else this whole time. Then asked you to take a seat.

Before you knew what was even happening you were telling him your entire life story. Little did you know, as you started your story, that he’d already learned all about you.

Growing up you had a father that you’d never met and a mother who was somehow around just as much even though she was technically considered your legal guardian. Which left you to be raised by your grandmother who you thought was actually pretty wonderful. She made sure you were always healthy, always worked hard at your studies, and that you knew the difference between good and bad. Or how she crudely put it between puffs from her cigarette, “how not to be a piece of shit.”

Unfortunately, she died when you were still fairly young, just ten years old. The only consistent and positive influence in your life, gone. Despite the massive change to your life your mother refused to change hers. Instead of spending any time with you she had set you up with caretaker in the form of your pedofile neighbor, who of course had offered to watch you free of charge. Growing up your grandmother had warned you enough about him for you to know you never wanted to be alone with him. Instead of going home after school you would spend your nights tucked away in libraries until they closed and then wandering around the city until you thought it was safe enough to sneak back into the apartment without being bothered.

Among many things she had wanted for you, your grandmother had always told you she didn’t want you to let the cards you’d been dealt make you hard. She didn’t want your absentee mother to be your only example of love and affection. You had tried, when you were young you tried often to open up to others and were often left discouraged by the people you placed your trust in. That was why as an adult it had become very rare for you to get close to people despite your grandmother’s wishes.

The only person who’d been successful at keeping you, as a friend or otherwise, was your boyfriend. You’d known him for years. He’d been the cousin of a girl you met in high school. Though he had only graduated a year before you were set to he had already moved out of his parents house the second he hit eighteen. It was something you admired as it was what you’d been planning on doing for years. He would always let the two of you stay the night at his place when you got too drunk to go home after those friday night parties. Then after high school you stayed hanging around his place, even when his cousin stopped coming around.

Finally one day he had asked you flat out if you were homeless. When you told him no, that you were just comfortable there he had given you a key and offered you your own space, letting you call it home. After you’d collected the last of your things you never went back to that old apartment. Your mother never reached out to you and you weren’t keen on keeping in touch with her either.

One rainy afternoon you had sat perched on the counter in the kitchen watching him make sandwiches for lunch. You’d been telling him about your latest dating mishap when he looked up at you and very simply said, “You’re really fucked up.”

“Jeez, aren’t you astute.” you’d replied swinging your foot hard into his leg.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asked as casually as if he’d just asked if you wanted mustard on your sandwich.

“Sure.” you answered with about the same enthusiasm.

He handed you a finished sandwich and smiled, “Cool.”

“You know,” Jiyong said one night after another one of your long complaint sessions about the boyfriend that you’d loved so much. “Yours may just be the most romantic love story I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You rolled your eyes hard at his sarcasm, “Maybe we’re not Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, nobody is perfect.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know...what is wrong with you?” you asked genuinely and then shook your head, “Fine, who do you consider a good love story?”

He hummed thoughtfully and after a quiet minute he said, “Orpheus and Eurydice. I think they were a nice couple.”

“Wasn’t that a tragedy?” You asked trying to recall the details of the tale from when you’d learned about it in school.

“It had the potential to be a wonderful love story with a happy ending.” He shrugged, “There’s the double love story if you consider that Hades even agreed to let Eurydice go at the behest of Persephone in the first place because he cared so much for her.. even if she never really cared for him... but he’s probably over it. Old news.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Sometimes I forget how desperately whipped for her he was.” You missed the look Jiyong gave you as you started to really remember the story, “Sucks Hades had to be a dick though and take Eurydice back.”

“It’s not Hades fault that Orpheus broke their deal!” he argued.

“Please.” You scoffed, “would you really have trusted Hades enough to not look back?”

“Yes, of course. Hades is, if nothing else, a god of his word.” Jiyong said so defensively you found it amusing.

“Bullshit, Hades is manipulative. He probably has some backdoor loophole out of every deal he makes with everyone just so he can get out of them without feeling guilty.”

“That’s just not true. If you think it is, you don’t know anything about him.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as he pouted into his nearly empty cup. Feeling bad that you seemed to have turned his mood so sour you stood up from the table and moved around to the espresso machine. You called over the counter “I guess you’re right. The mythological, Greek god of the underworld? I don’t know much about him. Only what I’ve read in books.”

“You’re mocking me.” It was hard not to think Jiyong was cute, even if he was being a grump. Maybe especially when he was being a grump.

“Lighten up, Ji, it’s not like I was talking about you. Hades doesn’t even exist. If he did he wouldn’t care what a nobody like me had to say about him.” You shrugged as he sat down at the counter and handed him fresh mug of espresso and a biscotti as an apology.

“Yours would likely be the only opinion that mattered to him.” he muttered to himself as he dipped the biscotti into the fresh espresso.

“What was that?” you asked turning back around from the sink, but he shook his head, “Would it make you feel better to make fun of my boyfriend some more?”

“Yes, actually, I think I might like that.” he said, finally with a smile.

“Oh, give him a break. Give me a break. He was the only one that was there for me during some of the hardest parts of my life. He knows how messed up I am and still sticks around.” you said trying to credit him with something.

“Or he found you in your most vulnerable state. When your expectations of love and respect were at their lowest level, and showed you the bare minimum amount of respect a person deserves. Which for you then placed him on a god tier level pedestal. Gaining him your undying, and quite frankly, undeserved loyalty.”

“Ouch.” you said placing a hand on your chest to indicate exactly where his words had hit you. He thought for a moment that he had gone too far, finally said too much, but you just smiled, “You don’t seem to like him very much.”

“The only things I know about him are what you’ve told me,” And his entire life’s history… Jiyong thought to himself, drumming his fingers on top of his notebook. “It’s not as if you share his most redeeming qualities with me.”

“That’s not what friends do.” you said matter of factly, “Friends vent to each other. We don’t gush about how perfect our lives are. That would be so boring.”

“Well, do it now. Tell me something good about him.”

“He…” you hesitated, suddenly unsure of any of his more positive qualities and blaming it on being put on the spot. “He makes me happy.”

“Does he?” Jiyong asked with a surprised expression.

“Yes!” you confirmed, landing a backhanded smack against his arm. “That’s all I need.”

He squinted at you curiously, “You’re saying that his only redeeming quality is that he supposedly makes you happy?”

You shrugged, and leaned against the counter. “I think that’s enough. Being with someone who makes you happy. Don’t you?”

“Maybe if I thought he was actually any good at it.” Jiyong said taking a sip from his cup.

You raised an eyebrow at him and tried not to laugh, “Savage, Ji.”

“No, I’m just being honest.”

With a sigh you stood up and stretched out your sore back, “What am I supposed to do? What would you suggest? I just leave him?”

He gave a half shrug. “To start with, yes.”

“And start this whole process over again? Trying to find someone who is patient and understanding enough to tolerate me?” you groaned at even the idea of being single. You had female coworkers, you’d heard about the struggle.

“You’re not as fucked up as you think you are, as he’s made you believe. Trust me.”

For a moment you fell quiet. Processing his words made you feel uncomfortable so you shook your head as if to clear the thoughts and looked back up at him with a small, ingenuine smile, “I don’t really want to talk about me anymore, tell me more about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you have a family? A girlfriend? What do you do for work? You know all this shit about me and never tell me anything about yourself.”

He took a long, deep breath trying to think of what to tell you and how to tell you. The delicate art of telling someone you were the god of the underworld wasn’t something he’d ever had to know before. Luckily for him a roar of hunger from deep in your belly, saved him from having to answer. You realized that you’d gone nearly all day without a bite to eat. A blush rose in your cheeks as you realized from the small, amused smirk on his lips that Jiyong had heard it too.

“I’m not supposed to, while there’s customers,” You began, “but would you mind if I ate something?”

“Sounds like Cerberus in there....” He leaned back on the stool casual as always, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

With a sense of relief you opened the back of the small display case. Instead of one of the predominantly displayed treats that you’d offered him earlier that evening you pulled out large pink box that was typically reserved for people who purchased several baked goods to go. A smile spread across your face as you dropped it on the counter and grabbed a fork.

“I’ve been waiting all day for you.” You whispered as you opened the top and dug your fork into your treat.

Jiyong watched, incredibly entertained, as you devoured each bite with a sense of euphoria. Finally he asked what had been eating at him, “I have to know what's in the box?”

You blushed slightly, embarrassed to admit it, “Persephone’s Kiss.”

“Excuse me?” He choked out in surprise.

“It’s a new recipe I’ve been working on, and I think I finally got it. It’s a pomegranate cake.“

“You’re joking?” You shook your head. Jiyong chuckled, which suddenly turned into a genuine laugh. The action took you by surprise. He typically kept a straight face or would muster a grin or smug smirk at most, which meant that you never really noticed that he had such a beautiful smile. It was gummy and big, almost childlike. He patted his bulbous cheeks with the back of his hand as he calmed himself.

Once composed, Jiyong went back to sipping his coffee humming with laughter every once in awhile. After you’d devoured a significant amount of the cake you looked down at it and pursed your lips thoughtfully. “Would you like to try it? I think it’s my new favorite, but maybe you could try it and let me know if it’s good enough to share with the boss. Good enough for the menu.”

“Would I like to try Persephone’s Kiss?” You could see the laughter in his eyes again as he asked. “You’d share your favorite treat with me? I’m practically a stranger.”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, “I meant it earlier when I said we were friends. I thought we were acquaintances at the very least.”

“You really consider me a friend?” He asked raising his perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“Sure, why not? I see you like everyday. I talk to you more than I’ve talked to my own boyfriend in the last week. You know more about what’s going on in my life than my other friends.” You pushed the box towards him and offered him the fork by its handle. “Have some cake, friend.”

You watched him as he pulled a small piece onto the fork and brought the cake to his lips. A dozen things went through his head as he pulled the prongs of the fork from his mouth. One of them being the realization that the fork he’d just used was the one that you’d been using and that part of the magnificent flavor that lingered on his tongue was your essence. The same essence he would experience if he were to kiss you. And he absolutely wanted to kiss you. He could have choked when he looked up to see you watching him diligently.

“Well? What do you think?”

He blushed lightly, “Better than the real thing, if you ask me.”

Your forehead creased as his words sunk in and then you just laughed, “Jiyong, you say the weirdest shit sometimes.”

#g dragon scenario #kwon jiyong scenario #Big Bang scenario #Kpop scenario #Everlong

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avengersmusings · 5 years

Photo

FULL NAME: Natalia Alianova Romanova MEANING: Christmas Day NICKNAME: Natasha, Nat, Tash, Tasha MEANING: Natasha is the name she usually goes by to distance herself from the Red Room, Nat’s just a shortened form of her name, and Clint calls her Tash/Tasha when they’re alone thanks. AGE APPEARANCE: Appears 30, is actually 36 BIRTHDAY: April 22nd, 1984 ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Taurus SPECIES: Enhanced Human GENDER: Cis female ALLERGIES: None SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Pansexual THEME SONG(S): Praying by Kesha, Black Widow by Iggy Azela & Rita Ora, I Did Something Bad by Taylor Swift, and Alone Together by Fall Out Boy

APPEARANCE

HAIR COLOR: Red HAIR STYLE AND LENGTH: Shoulder length, usually either wavy or straight. She’ll wear it up in a bun if she’s lounging around. EYES COLOR: Green EYESIGHT: 20/20, the serum she was injected with corrected any and all imperfections. HEIGHT: 5″7′ WEIGHT: 145 lbs OUTFIT/CLOTHING STYLE: On missions it’s whatever SHIELD makes her wear but when she’s alone it’s usually leggings and someone else’s shirt or sweats and Clint’s shirt. Flat shoes are a must and jeans are only worn if they’re going out in public (and they’re tight as can be). ABNORMALITIES: None. DISTINGUISHING MARKS(SCARS,MOLES): Various knife/bullet wounds that have scarred over; a long bullet wound along right hip; small scattering of freckles along upper back, shoulders, and face. SELF CARE(MAKE UP): Nat always looks well kept and put together. The Red Room forced her to. FIRST IMPRESSION ON PEOPLE: People usually think she’s a bitch and unapproachable. SKIN COLOR: Latina/White mixed BODY TYPE/BUILD: Slim, lean, and muscular. DEFAULT EXPRESSION: Resting bitch face x1000. POSTURE: Nat always has perfect posture, her body tense like a dancer’s. MEASUREMENTS(FEMALE ONLY): Waist: size 12; Bust: size 34D PIERCINGS: Multiple piercings on ears, bellybutton piercing. DESCRIBE THEIR VOICE: As the Black Widow, there’s no distinguishable accent but when Nat is alone her natural accent comes out.

RELATIONS:

MOM: Anika Romanova HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Natasha’s mother died when she was young, but hse does have a fond memory of her mother singing to her. DAD: Ivan Petrovitch (Adopted); birth father is unknown. HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Before she was kidnapped by the Red Room, their relationship was very good. He took her in after her mother’s death and the Red Room told her that he was dead. SIBLINGS: Mayna Romanova HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: For the longest time, Natasha had no idea that Mayna was even still alive. They went through the Red Room together but it wasn’t until Nat dropped all of SHIELD’s files to the public that she found out her sister was still alive. CHILDREN: N/A HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: N/A OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS: N/A PAST LOVER(S): Alexi Shostakov (Ex-Husband), James Barnes (Ex-Fling) CURRENT LOVER: Clint Barton REACTION TO MEETING SOMEONE NEW: Nat keeps quiet and analyzes them until she gets a good read of them. ABILITY TO WORK WITH OTHERS: Usually, Nat can work with anyone. Her training forces her to want to work with others, even if she doesn’t agree with them. However, it takes her a while to fully trust her teammates. HOW SOCIABLE(LONER,ETC): Mildly social, but only to those she trusts and cares about. FRIENDS: The Avengers team, Elise Burke, Wanda Maximoff, Carol Danvers, Pepper Potts PETS: Liho, a 3 year old black male cat. LEAST FAVORITE TYPE OF PERSON: Overbearing men, cocky people, men who don’t take her seriously because she’s a woman. PARENTAL TYPE(PROTECTIVE,ETC): Protective, Carefree. FAVORITE PEOPLE: Clint, Elise, Bucky, Wanda, and Pepper are her top five favorite people. LEAST FAVORITE PEOPLE: Clint, anyone Hydra or Red Room affiliated, people who are rude to women.

PERSONALITY:

..WHEN YOU FIRST MEET THEM: ? Cautious, closed off, cold. ..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY LIKE YOU): Affectionate, Loyal, Playful. ..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY DISLIKE YOU): Cold, Mean, Sarcastic. FAVORITE COLOR: Red. FAVORITE FOOD: Russian Pelmeni, pizza, anything chocolate. FAVORITE ANIMAL: Cats FAVORITE INSTRUMENT: Flute FAVORITE ELEMENT: Fire LEAST FAVORITE COLOR: White LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: Lemons, Cabbage Rolls, beans LEAST FAVORITE ANIMAL: None really. LEAST FAVORITE INSTRUMENT: Deep bass and drums LEAST FAVORITE ELEMENT: Earth HOBBIES: Ballet dancing, listening to calming music, eating cereal with Clint at 3am. USUAL MOOD: Calm, collected, but usually in a good mood.

DRINK/SMOKE/DRUGS: Drinks socially. DARK VERSION OF SELF: Cunning, ruthless, a trained assassin that will kill without hesitation. LIGHT VERSION OF SELF: Loyal, willing to make the sacrifice play, intelligent. HOW SERIOUS ARE THEY: Nat is usually pretty serious, but does have a playful side. BELIEVE IN GHOSTS: Ghost are real and they haunt her at night. (IN)DEPENDANT: Independent, though tends to be dependent on people she really cares about. SOFT SPOT/VULNERABILITY: Talking about her pre-SHIELD past, Clint, orphaned children. OPINION ON SWEARING: She doesn’t do it unless the occasion calls for it, but isn’t against it. DAREDEVIL VS CAUTIOUS: It depends on the situation. MUSIC TYPE: She prefers classical or calming music and cannot stand rap or hip hop. MOVIE TYPE: Action, Horror, dumb comedies Clint makes her watch BOOK TYPE: Nat’s read all the classics but her favorites are those trashy romance novels and she pretends she doesn’t read them. GAME TYPE: Anything, she’s been trained to know how to read to win them all. COMFORTABLE TEMPERATURE: Nat likes being comfortable, meaning not too hot or too cold. SLEEPING PATTERN: Nat’s usually up at all hours, but likes to try to keep a sleeping schedule. It doesn’t really work out. CLEANLINESS/NEATNESS: Nat’s okay with a little bit of disarray in her living areas, a light clutter to show a home is lived in isn’t bad. But she can’t super messy environments. DESIRED PET: Cats HOW DO THEY PASS TIME: Nat’s free time is either spent training or with Clint. BIGGEST SECRET: There isn’t much Nat keeps secret anymore, between the SHIELD leak and her desire to let her teammates know everything. HERO/WHO THEY LOOK UP TO: Peggy Carter. WHAT ANIMAL WOULD THEY BE: A lioness. FEARS: Becoming Natalia again and hurting one of her coworkers, Clint leaving her, failing to save someone. COMFORTS: Warm baths, Clint drapping himself around her, Liho purring on her chest.

HOW DO THEY ACT WHEN THEY ARE:

SAD: Nat has two sad modes: run away or shut it down. When she’s sad she either shuts down her negative emotion until she can’t hold it back anymore or runs away to deal with them on her own. HAPPY: Playful, joking around, wanting to be around as many people as possible. ANGRY: Depending on who/what made her angry: fighting, harsh words, or poking at known weaknesses are her usual go tos. AFRAID: Nat isn’t usually afraid, but when she is her body shuts down and goes into fight or flight mode. LOVE SOMEONE: Steals their clothing, wants to be around them all the time, becomes over protective. HATE SOMEONE: Nat either avoids them or makes their life a living hell. WANT SOMETHING: Nat will go after it, she’s not the one to beat around the bush. CONFUSED: Nat doesn’t get confused often but if she does end up confused she works it out until she understands it.

HOW DO THEY REACT TO:

DANGER: Nat’s fight or flight response kicks in and she tries to protect her teammates from whatever danger is present. SOMEONE THEY HATE WHO HAS A CRUSH ON THEM: Nat murders them, no she just lets them know she’s not interested. PROPOSAL TO MARRY: At first, she thinks Clint is joking because he’s him. But when she eventually realizes he’s being legit, she’d accept and they’d spent at least a day celebrating. DEATH OF LOVED ONE: After so much loss, Nat’s almost immune to it. She gets sad and wants to be alone for a little bit and then wants Clint to just hold her. DIFFICULT GAME/MATH/ETC: Nat will not rest until she works it out okay. INJURY: If someone else is hurt, Nat hides it and pretends she’s okay. She’s also been injured so many times that she doesn’t realize she’s hurt half the time so. SOMETHING IRRESISTABLY CUTE: Nat pretends it’s annoying while secretly dying on the inside. LOSS OF HOURS OF WORK: I dare SHIELD to try to cut her out of something. I dare them.

Knowledge:

LANGUAGES: English, Russian, German, Latin, ASL. SCHOOLING LEVEL: Whatever the Red Room was FAVORITE SUBJECT (S): Dance, Combat INTERESTED CAREERS: None really. EXPERTISE: Combat, Weapons Mastery, Hacking, Seduction & Manipulation PUZZLES: Puzzles aren’t that hard for her. CHEMISTRY: The science subject? Not so much. Human chemistry? She’s an expert. MATH: Math wasn’t that hard for her to understand. ENGLISH: She can speak it but reading something and finding hidden meanings? Not so much. GEOGRAPHY: SHIELD gave her some training so she has basic understandings of map reading. POLITICS/LAW: Nat has a basic understanding of the law, but she doesn’t really pay attention to politics. She knows how to play people to get what she wants. ECONOMY/ACCOUNTING: This is probably the one section Nat doesn’t care about. COOKING: Nat can cook basic things and enjoys doing it. SEWING: She’s really good at it, especially if it’s medical sewing. MECHANICS: Nat knows the basics of car owning but that’s about it. BOTANY (FLOWERS): Yeah no. MYTHOLOGY: Nat took an interest in Norse Mythology after meeting Thor but that’s about it. DRAMATICS(ACTING,SINGING): Nat’s skill set deals with acting so. READING LEVEL: Proficient. HOW GOOD ARE THEY AT PLANNING AHEAD: It depends on what she’s planning. Missions, she’s great. But everything else? Not so much.

ROMANCE:

DO THEY TAKE INITIATIVE: ALL THE TIME. Nat’s constantly pulling Clint in for kisses or cuddles or into empty rooms. HOW DO THEY ACT(SHY,ETC): It depends on her mood and what she wants, but usually she’s pretty forward and confident in what she wants. GENTLEMAN/LADYLIKE VS KLUTZY: Nat’s smooth, but Clint tends to make her nervous. She’s never felt like this for someone before. GO SLOW VS JUMP INTO: Nat’s romantic life was to jump into things quickly and she took her time with Clint. PROTECTIVE: FUCK YES. ACT LIKE FRIENDS OR LOVERS: Honestly, both. WHAT KIND OF PRESENTS DO THEY BUY: Who needs presents when you can just give them sex? It’s probably a new toy or something they can use in the bedroom. TYPE OF KISSER: It depends on her mood, sometimes she wants soft kisses and some times she wants it rough. DO THEY WANT KIDS: No, but also yes? DO THEY WANT TO MARRY: Only if it’s Clint. MAKE GOOD OR BAD DECISIONS: Both. She has a self-destruction tendency when it comes to love/romance. ARE THEY ROMANTIC: Yes. HOW ARE THEY IN BED: One of her skill sets is being good in bed okay. GET JEALOUS EASY: Yes and no. She knows Clint is it for her, and her for him, but at the same time she doesn’t like people touching her man. WIFE/HUBBY BEATER: No. Nope. No. Never. MARRY FOR MONEY: Nope. Maybe for the laughs to Tony, but not really. FAVORITE POSITION: Nat likes being on top. She really enjoys being on top during oral and just CRUSHING Clint between her thighs okay. WHAT WOULD HAPPEN ON THEIR DREAM DATE: Oh god, staying in and just hanging out and cuddling on the couch followed by great sex. OPINION ON SEX: Sex used to be something she just did because she was expected to, but now it means so much more to her. It’s one of her favorite things to do with Clint.

#char: natasha romanoff #natasha: bio

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tracies-tales · 6 years

Text

Reprogrammed

The music of the club reverberated through the very soul. It pounded through the ears of the crowd of bodies packed together, most of the patrons either too drunk or high to pay any mind to the heat of so many people in such an enclosed space. And even though Arin was among that crowd, it wasn’t alcohol or drugs that was keeping his mind occupied; it was the android on stage.

It was unlike any model Arin had seen before. They’d programmed countless androids for use as vocalists, but this one stood out. The sparkling blue spandex suit and flowing cape certainly contributed to the captivation. Watching the android’s mass of curly hair bounce in time with its head bobs was equally bewitching.

Arin couldn’t place it, but there was something incredibly human about it. It actually used a range of facial expressions and other swaying body movements as it stood behind an old fashioned microphone. It truly looked alive in front of an audience. The one thing giving it away was the blue circle of LED light on its temple.

Arin had never wanted to own an android more.

Of course having a robot around had its perks. They followed instructions without question, and they did everything to the letter. They were programmed for countless medical procedures, recipes for cooking, and a slew of other useful mechanisms, but Arin had never quite gotten it. Even knowing they couldn’t feel pain or emotions, Arin could never get past how real they looked. He’d also met a handful that were deceitfully human-like in nature, but they were androids who had served the same people for years and learned body language. When an android was fresh out of the factory, they were always a bit stiff until they warmed up to the behavior of their owners.

Arin frowned to himself at the word. He didn’t think he wanted to own anyone, even if that’s what androids were built for. But this model--the DS6969, or Dan--was special. They only brought it out on rare occasions to keep the crowds coming in; it was one of a kind. Whoever had modified the android’s vocals had done a superb job. It was even able to harmonize with itself using multiple layers of vocals coming from one mouth. But, Arin supposed, that was one of the wonders of modern technology.

~~~

“You have to work with me,” the club’s owner, Brian, said. “It’s an exclusive.”

“I know h--it is,” Arin replied. He’d been saving up money in case he ever decided to go through with joining the modern era and invest in an android. “But fifteen thousand is a steep price.”

“There were a lot of modifications put into this machine,” Brian folded his hands on his desk. “I think fifteen is rather generous, considering the amount of revenue it brings in.”

“So can’t you use that revenue to buy a new one?”

“If it were that simple, why don’t you go to the nearest warehouse and buy a cheaper model?”

Arin crossed his arms, “Touche. But I want Dan.”

Brian grinned softly, “You’ve been telling me that for weeks.”

“And I’m only now getting you to budge,” Arin set his hands on Brian’s desk and leaned forward. “I’ll bargain all you like.”

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’ll take care of it. So how about this. I’ll let you buy it for ten thousand, on two conditions.”

“Hit me,” Arin said, trying not to sound too excited.

Brian fixed him with his gaze, “You send it back once a week for shows. I can’t just let you steal him from the public. As such, secondly, if I catch wind of you using it elsewhere for other concerts for your personal gain, you lose your right to it.”

Arin pretended to mull this over before saying, “Deal.”

Brian grinned, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

~~~

Arin opened the door to his house, which was a simple but comfortable single-story home. “Here we are,” he said, turning to watch Dan’s expression. It was interesting to see him off stage. He was still wearing the blue uniform; Arin didn’t mind, but it had attracted a lot of unwanted attention on the bus ride.

Dan was behaving as most standard androids, undoubtedly scanning the house as he swept his eyes around the area. Dan smiled, “It’s nice.”

“Yeah, I think so, too,” Arin said, kicking off his shoes and heading to the kitchen. “Guess I’m on a bit of a budget after that investment, huh?”

Dan tilted his head, “Your purchase of me, you mean?”

“Yup,” Arin responded. “You didn’t come cheap.”

“People with true talent rarely do,” Dan replied with a small grin.

Arin slowly turned back to him, “Did you just make a sex joke?”

“Is that okay?” Dan asked.

“Well, yeah, I’m just surprised. Androids don’t usually pick up on innuendos and shit.”

Dan giggled, even the laughter musical, “I’m not your average android.”

“You certainly aren’t,” Arin agreed and went back to throwing together a simple sandwich.

As Arin smeared mayo on a slice of bread, he heard Dan ask, “What would you like me to sing?”

Arin blinked and looked over his shoulder, “What?”

“What would you like me to sing?” Dan repeated.

“Oh. Do you want to sing?” Arin asked.

“It’s what I was made for. I had assumed you bought me because you enjoyed listening to me.”

Arin’s brow furrowed as he went back to assembling his dinner, “I mean, I do, but...that’s not all you’re good for.”

Dan nodded and began walking forward, “You’re right. I’m programmed to accommodate many different needs.” Before Arin realized Dan had gotten so close, he suddenly felt hands slide onto his hips from behind. Arin tensed from a mix of shock and a severe case of the stomach flutters as Dan’s lowered voice spoke into his ear, “But those talents are reserved for special buyers.”

“Woah, woah,” Arin grabbed at Dan’s wrists and paused, letting go to awkwardly turn around and grab them again, practically pinned against the counter by the android. Arin said, “That’s...well, it was nice, but that isn’t what I bought you for, either.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed slightly, eyes roaming Arin’s face as he replied, “I’m sorry if I overstepped a boundary or jumped to conclusions.”

“You didn’t,” Arin assured, only mildly perturbed by the fact that Dan was making no move to back away, clearly not understanding human boundaries. All the same, he didn’t push Dan away, continuing, “Maybe...we’ll get to testing that some day, but I bought you because I saw potential in you.”

“Potential?”

“Yeah. You know, the ability to grow into something more. You’re an amazing singer, and...I imagine really good in bed, too, but you don’t have to be just a singer or a sex doll for me. I don’t want that for you, unless that’s really all you want to do,” Arin said.

Dan pulled his arms back slowly and thought, appearing to stare at a nondescript point. After a moment of computing, he looked back up at Arin and asked, “What else can I do?”

“Whatever you feel like, really.”

“What sort of things do you do?” Dan asked with a curious grin.

Arin set the second slice of bread on top of his ham sandwich and took a bite, saying, “I draw sometimes, but mostly I play video games. You’d probably be like...stupid good at them.”

“I’ve never tried one,” Dan replied simply.

“Oh, dude,” Arin clapped a hand on Dan’s shoulder, “I know what we’re doing tonight.”

~~~

“Get the key, Arin, the key!” Dan said with growing anticipation.

“I’m trying my best here, this fuckin’ boss is really-NO,” Arin shouted at the screen. “That’s fucking bullshit!”

Dan was laughing at the latest blunder, in which the boss of the level had repeatedly hit Arin until Arin’s avatar fell off a cliff. “It seems the dungeon master will hold on to the key for another day,” Dan said.

“Oh no he won’t, I’m coming in hot,” Arin retorted, gripping the controller tightly and leaning forward on the couch as he restarted the fight.

Dan smirked at Arin and watched him from the corner of his ocular unit as he said, “You could be coming in hot elsewhere.”

“Listen, Daniel, as much as I would love that, I’m a bit busy with mister bitch...tits...thinks he can do whatever he wants Mcgee over here.”

Dan chuckled, “Well, as soon as you’re done with mister Mcgee, I think you’ll have earned a reward.”

“Thanks Dan I’ll keep it in mind,” Arin said quickly as he did his best to focus and not become distracted at the thought of the reward. “Come on, asshole, just--fucking don’t you dare go for the edge I swear to--no, NO! God damnit!” Arin threw his controller and collapsed backwards. “Next time on fuckin’ Game Grumps.”

Dan giggled, covering his mouth and saying, “He’ll get it next time everybody, we promise. But first, some pity sex.”

“I don’t want your pity sex!” Dan allowed Arin to retort before Dan switched off the recording equipment using the wireless connection in his mind. Arin groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. Dan cooed, “Aww, poor guy,” as he wrapped an arm around him.

Arin shifted to lay his head on Dan’s shoulder, mumbling, “This is really hard.”

“You know what else is really hard?” He bit his bottom lip as Arin gave him a tired look before Dan said, “My heart.”

Arin snorted, “What, do you have a heart boner for me?”

“Yeah,” Dan replied, curling his other arm around Arin in a hug. Arin chuckled and fell silent, enjoying Dan’s company in silence for a few moments before Dan said, “You make me feel like I have one.”

Arin blinked and turned to look up at him, “What?”

Dan removed one arm to rub at the port in his chest where his battery was, “A heart. Back at the club, all I was ever good for was entertainment. But here, I feel like...I’m feeling. And I feel like I’m so much more than that.”

Arin said, “Well don’t be silly, Dan. Of course you’re more than that.” He hesitated and set a hand on Dan’s cheek, “I always knew you were more than that.”

Dan leaned his head into Arin’s palm with a soft hum, setting one of his own hands over Arin’s. “I feel free with you,” Dan said quietly.

“Free? To me, it’s more like priceless,” Arin wiggled an eyebrow before they both snorted at the corny joke. It wasn’t until they’d collected themselves that Arin even noticed their mouths were inches apart from each other, and before he knew it, Dan had leaned in for a kiss. And Arin let him, because by now he knew:

It was what Dan wanted.

i’m gonna be honest, if this gets enough attention i’d be more than happy to turn this into a full length ao3 fic. there were so many possibilities i tossed around while writing it; let me know what you think!!

#egobang #detroit become human #au #fic #ficlet #androids #robots #kiss #fluff #wholesome

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bump-of-whump · 6 years

Note

I know you said you don't write for Voltron, but could you give us some sick hcs like you did for YOI?

Sure, why not?

Sick VLD headcanons under the cut. I tried to differentiate them from the other ones I’ve seen floating around, but any similarities are innocently lifted rather than intentionally stolen. 🤒😷😴

Lance

As a sickie:

• Actually has a pretty sturdy immune system. He’s kind of cocky about it though. Like, there isn’t much of an effort on his part to avoid germs because he’s so confident he can resist them. This is why on the infrequent occasions he does get sick, it tends to sneak up on him.

• Mildly dramatic. He won’t start writing up a will or anything, but if he comes down with something, he’s not subtle about it. The type to sprawl out on a cold floor (tile, linoleum, the metal on the castle, etc) if he’s feeling feverish. Will not move once he’s down, everybody just has to walk around him.

• It was easier for him to deal with getting sick on Earth. On Earth he could use it to his advantage to skip class or get extra attention from his family. In space it’s more difficult for him, first of all because of the additional responsibilities, but also because it feeds his insecurity. He doesn’t want to be the weak leak on a mission. That said, it becomes a boasting point if he manages to do well anyway. He might brag about shooting down sentries while being infected with “alien plague” and that sort of thing.

• Keeps a cough now and then. He could be mostly over a cold for like a week and still have a lingering cough. This worries the others, but is the kind of thing that clears up eventually. Usually, anyway.

As a caretaker:

• Actually awesome. The guy has superb emotional intelligence, man. He can tell when someone doesn’t feel good and he just wants to make them feel better. Very attentive to sick friends, even if they’re cranky. The first person to ask if you need to sit down, or offer a glass of water.

• Pretty good at cheering people up, really. Promises whoever’s sick that they’re gonna get over it, tries to keep them focused on the positive but doesn’t push too hard to force it either. Being sick is a bummer and he empathizes.

• Won’t shove medicine down anyone’s throat, but isn’t really a pushover about it either. If the patient doesn’t take it, that’s on them when it takes longer to get better. He tried.

Pidge

As a sickie:

• Pitiful. Poor thing gets hit really hard by germs. She isn’t dramatic but it’s always painfully obvious when she’s coming down with something. She’s so quiet that it gives everybody this uneasy sense of wrong and she’s mopey too. Not whiny, really, but just…sad. Like a puppy that lost its favorite toy. She’s so pale the second she runs a fever, she’s red as a tomato.

• Only picks at food. Like, she will try to eat. She isn’t the kind of sickie to swear off on food. Logically she knows it’s important to get in the nutrients, but once the food is in front of her, she can’t actually force herself to swallow. She just stirs the soup until it’s cold. Uses her fork to scrape faces into the toast without nibbling past the crust.

• Because of her allergies, she’s pretty used to being stuffed up and the congestion of colds and like is a familiar state to slug through. But stomach bugs pulverize her. If she pukes her guts up for three days, she’s still feeling like a bear clawed through her stomach three days later. It’s just that sore.

• Performs like a compliant, obedient zombie. If her team is like yeah, okay you need to go to bed right now, she does so without protest. Or if it’s the opposite and it’s like, sorry you’re sick but this mission can’t wait, she just as easily goes along with it.

As a caretaker:

• She tries her best, but she gets overwhelmed by difficult patients. If a cranky sickie is yelling at her, she’ll probably throw a box of tissues at their head or something. Or if a delirious one starts wandering or rambling, she’s gonna freak out. Does a lot better with docile patients.

• Stays up late to watch over whoever isn’t feeling good, whether they gave her grief or not.

• Assuming it’s just a cold and the sickie isn’t suffering too bad, she’ll test alien remedies out on them. Particularly Olkarion ones because she’s fond of their culture.

Keith

As a sickie:

• He won’t acknowledge that he’s sick until he has to. He ignores silent symptoms, like various aches and sore throats. Once it’s past that point and he’s audibly/visibly ill, he’ll take some aspirin and go to bed early but not much more than that. Tries to lone wolf it as much as possible, even if he appreciates that his friends want to help.

• Used to get awful ear infections as a kid. Painful, dizzying, high fever kind. Bore it stoically even then. It would take passing out in class for authority figures to notice like, hey, this kid is sick. To date, when something’s coming on, he’ll usually feel it in his ears first. That uncomfortable pressure behind the eardrums and whatnot.

• Is the embodiment of that popular whump trope. Yeah, you know the one. The character that gets sick and proceeds to push themselves to the point of collapse? That’s Keith.

As a caretaker:

• Competent but a quiet worrier. Always double checks labels to make sure he’s giving whoever the right medicine and the right dosage of said medicine.

• Hangs around with the infected rather than periodically checking on them, never particularly concerned about catching the bug. Always lets his patient pick the tv/movie since they don’t feel well, whether or not it’s anything he finds interesting.

• Observant, probably the first to notice when someone else is getting sick. And then he’s hypocritical, because he’ll call them out on it despite being the type to hide it when he’s ill himself.

Hunk

As a sickie:

• Um, mean. Or at the very least, grouchy and testy. Company grates on him when he’s sick and is definitely not appreciated. He’s the type to hibernate like an animal to sleep something nasty off, and anybody hovering around is in the way of that regardless of good intentions.

• Handles stomach bugs gracefully, if grumpily. Constant motion sickness and anxiety means he’s nauseous half the time anyway. He does better with them than regular flus or colds because pushing through nausea is basically normalcy.

• Gets knocked off his feet by any ailment with muscle fatigue. General weakness takes a lot out of him. He’s a huge dude packing major bodily strength so he feels it super hard when it just depletes in the wake of a bad flu or something.

As a caretaker:

• Very gentle. Conscious of germs, but uses sanitizer discreetly so as not to offend the ill.

• Obviously the first person to whip up some soup and comfort food. Also sneaks vitamins into his friends’ food if it seems like there’s something going around.

• Surprisingly calm when it comes to dealing with delirious patients. Yeah, on the inside it’s freaking him out, but he realizes it’s important to remain outwardly chill to provide as much comfort as he can and hopefully get them to relax. You can’t get a delirious person to relax if you’re obviously losing your shit.

Shiro

As a sickie:

Languishes when he comes down with anything respiratory. I think most peeps pretty much take it as canon that Shiro has a deviated septum because of his facial scar and I am included in this. Even the sniffles fucking wreak this guy.

He tries to keep it together because he’s a leader, downplaying illnesses even if they’re bringing on nosebleeds and migraines. He’ll keep it up as long as he can, unless it gets bad enough that his poor state becomes a liability for the team. He’ll take a step back at that point, begrudgingly accepting that he’s too sick to function. When it reaches this point, it is immensely frustrating for him.

Laying in bed makes him restless and sometimes a little snappy. It gives him too much time to think, with nothing to distract him from being sick. Nothing to distract him from those intrusive thoughts that stem from his trauma. He won’t ask the others to hang around his bedside because it feels like burdening them, but secretly prefers company if only to keep away the silence.

Impatient. Antsy about the speed of recovery, always worries that he won’t recover fast enough even if he’s only a day or two into a cold. Overexerts himself at the first sign of recovery and pushes himself too hard too fast, which could very well land him right back in bed.

As a caretaker:

Silently reluctant. You would never know it because he does such a good job of encouraging the sickie to get better and piling extra blankets on their bed, with reassuring shoulder pats and soothing smiles. But because illnesses hit him so hard, he’s internally nervous about contagion.

He feels guilty for thinking of the other paladins as biohazards when they’re sick. Obviously it’s not their fault. Nonetheless, he is painfully cognizant of the fact that when they get the sniffles, he’s likely to end up battling a serious sinus infection. It’s not fair but it is what it is.

While he goes against his better instincts and actively plays nurse anyway, he is always washing. Vigorously scrubs his natural hand until the skin is flaky and cracked, maybe even bleeding. Cleans his prosthetic one with strong antiseptic wipes, over and over and over. If he can sneak in a hot shower or two, he absolutely will.

Allura

As a sickie:

Out of it. Really weird and spacey. There’s no having a conversation with her. She’s that person that gets delirious even running a low grade fever and the next thing you know, she’s organizing the items in the fridge by color even though she can barely stand.

The kind of patient who will agree go to bed, but wants to work while she’s in bed rather than actually resting. She draws out battle strategies while she’s all laid up, but because of the aforementioned delirium, they usually aren’t good ones. Once she’s recovered, she either revises them or tosses them out entirely.

•Sensitive to noises and sounds, particularly sounds. The team takes care to speak in low tones around her when she’s sick. She gets headaches and body aches rather easily, and hot baths are her preferred method to relieve the latter, whether or not she’s feverish.

As a caretaker:

Mostly confused. Her team is primarily composed of Earthlings and they don’t come with health manuals.

She isn’t particularly nurturing but she certainly means well. Might throw a patient with chills into a bath hot enough to boil lobsters, or force fed them a few gallons of soup.

•The one aspect of care taking she’s genuinely good at is companionship. Being sick is boring and Allura is great at telling stories. Her voice is also very soft and mellow and serves as a soothing lullaby to any sickie having trouble going to sleep.

Bonus Matt and Romelle because I’m already this far.

Matt

As a sickie:

Susceptible to chills. He can never get warm enough when he’s sick. He layers up big time, fuzzy socks, thick scarf, sweaters over long sleeve shirts, big ol’ blanket over his shoulders.

Is not particularly cleanly. That blanket over his shoulders? Yeah, it’s also his giant tissue. It’s full of boogers and spittle and he is too sick to care.

Drinks a ton of hot tea. It’s the only time he drinks hot tea in fact, when he’s healthy, he prefers iced tea. But when he’s sick, the teapot is always on. sweetens with honey to help his throat.

As a caretaker:

Indulgent, particularly if it’s Pidge who’s not feeling well. Whether you’re Pidge or not, you’re getting candy.

Bundles patients up in blanket burritos, whether they have the chills or not. Somethings this works out great. Sometimes the blanket burritos are too tight to escape.

Pretty good at keeping track of symptoms and the way they fluctuate over the course of an illness.

Romelle.

As a sickie

Complains a lot. Overshares all of her symptoms, no matter what she’s come down with or how gross others might find it.

Needy. She doesn’t necessarily require taking care of, per se, but she does not want to be alone.

Will not stay in bed. It’s too boring and all her sheets are soaked in sweat and sticky, so how is she supposed to sleep anyway?

As a caretaker:

Simultaneously attentive and an asshole. She will spoon feed a sickie soup but make fun of them for being snotty and gross in between every sip.

Will undertake all the chores of the ill and then tell them she does a better job anyway. Once they’re back on their feet, she should show them how to do things right.

Loves pointing out all the ways an illness can get worse and goes into graphic detail with a cheery smile on her face.

Grooms her patients if they’re not feeling up to doing it themselves with a genuine tenderness. Brushes their hair, wipes them down with clean cloths, doesn’t make a big deal out of helping them change clothes. She’s just a total mixed bag.

#blip answers #headcanons #illness #sickfic #vld headcanons

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