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haitaniplug · 3 years

Text

CLASS PROJECT CHAPTER TWENTY

summary - you really want to go abroad for the summer, but your grades fucking SUCK, so your parents won’t allow you to until you get them up. you were so ready to focus on the rest of the year until you get partnered up with Rindou Haitani. The boy that comes into school once every blue moon. And to make matters worse, it’s a project where participation counts. So now it’s your job to harass Rindou into getting his shit straight.

tags - enemies to friends to lovers , angst , crack , college au, eventual smut , fluff.

status - ongoing

series masterlist

Taglist: @q-the-rockaholic @crown5 @gumiwaka @hiimviolet @gulfkfl @sirachano0dles @imjustaweirdnerd @aki-ra26 @haitani-nic @denkis-slut @shujiswife @genderfluidkurapika @shibera @minnieminnie00-got7

"I'm home!" Rindou slammed the door shut, taking off his shoes. "Welcome home honey!" A voice came from the living room that was NOT Ran's voice. "Oh you gotta be fuckin' kidding me..." Rindou muttered as he recognised the voice instantly.

"Who was that?" You asked as you stood behind Rindou, also in the process of taking off your shoes. Rindou ignored you, walking into the living room to see Sanzu Haruchiyo himself laying on his couch as if he was some fuckin' mermaid.

"Get the fuck out," Rindou said harshly, glaring at him. "Wow! I can't even stay over for dinner." Sanzu feigned injury by putting his hand over his heart, pouting as his eyeline traveled to you who was just entering the living room.

"Y/N!" He jumped off the couch and hugged you. The impact was a little forceful and you stumbled backwards a little bit before composing yourself, putting your arms around him, "HI HARU!"

Rindou rolled his eyes, ignoring the scene that's right infront of him. "Where's Ran?"

"Store." Sanzu stretched, "I was over when you texted him asking for him to make more food, so he ran to the store." He explained, grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the couch, "Wanna play a video game?"

You nodded, "Sure, which one?"

Sanzu pointed to the box next to the TV stand, "Go pick, I guarantee you, I'll murk you either way," You let out an airy chuckle before standing up and bending over to the TV stand, going through the box of games to see which one you feel like you could have a chance to win at.

Sanzu sent a look to Rindou who just scowled at him, walking over and past the TV to block you from Sanzu's eyeline, "Why were you even here? Don’t you have business with Mikey or something?”

”Mikey?” You asked, standing up and handing Sanzu the video game.

He inspected it, “Yeah, Mikey is my best friend,” you could practically see the hearts in his eyes as he said this. “Mikey is my boss y/n-,”

”-Our boss.” Sanzu cut off Rindou, “I’m his number two y/n.” His smile was wide, showing off his teeth as he kept on rambling on about Mikey and how awesome he is. You thought it was adorable the way his scars stretched out as he smiled. You started to wonder, how he even got those scars to begin with. Would it be insensitive to ask?

"Sanzu, can I ask you something potentially insensitive?" You cut him off and he shrugged, "Go for it."

"How did you get those scars?" You reached out and pointed on his face.

"Mikey gave em to me." Your eyes widened, "Anyway back to topic, as Mikey's number 2-"

Rindou just scoffed, picking up the videogame out of the case and inserting it inside the player. "Um Rindou, what do you think you are doing?" Sanzu raised his eyebrow as he spoke.

"Playing the game?"

You moved your head back and forth as they spoke to each other.

"I don't remember inviting you to play with me and y/n." Sanzu reached over and snatched the controller out of Rindou's hands and handing it to you.

"I don't remember inviting you to my house to begin with." Rindou rebuted with a scowl on his face.

"It's okay, I can just watch you guys-"

"I don't need your permission to be here. Ran invited me." Sanzu narrowed his eyes as he spoke to Rindou.

Rindou was about to respond till the front door opened. "Back." Ran said, as he entered the kitchen, putting the bag on the table before making his way to the living room. "Oh hello there," he winked at you and you sent him a wave.

Your mind travelled back to the last time you were here, remembering Rindou had a dog. "Rin, where's your dog?" You asked, looking around the living room with no trace of it."Sanzu hates our dog so he made us put her in the backyard till he left." Ran said, taking off his jacket.

"You're scared of dogs?" You asked Sanzu and he shook his head. "It's not a matter of me being scared of them, it's a matter of them hating me."

"Well look at your face, of course it'll be scared." Rindou answered sarcastically earning a dramatic gasp from Sanzu which made you laugh. "Y/N! You're meant to be on my side!" He pouted and you shrugged before turning to look up at Rindou, "Can I play with the dog?"

He nods and you smiled excitedly, hopping off the floor and opening the backdoor to see the dog laying on its side as if it was asleep. You approached the dog, kneeling next to it as you rubbed it's stomach, "Hi baby," you said in a high voice as it stood up, as if it was excited to see you.

Sanzu watched from the window in awe as he watched the interaction, "How many times has she been over for the dog to love her this much?"

"Like once," Rindou said and Sanzu gasped loudly again. Ran scoffed, rolling his eyes, "I'm gonna cook now."

Everyone nodded at Ran and he made his way over to the kitchen. Moments later, you reentered the living room with the dog in your hands. "She's heavy." You said, placing the dog down on the floor. It automatically jumped on you and you were laughing as you rubbed it's sides.

Cute. Rindou thought. "Sanzu you try pet it."

Sanzu looked scared, remembering the last time he even approached the dog it almost bit his hand off. "No, I'm good thanks." There was a look on Sanzu's face that looked almost terrified. The dog whipped it's head to face Sanzu and he yelped, thinking it was going to attack him again.

"Fuckin' wuss," Rindou muttered before sitting down on the couch, grabbing the controller, "Hurry up so I can beat your ass in front of Y/N." He handed Sanzu the other controller. You placed the dog on your lap and turned to face the TV as the video game started up.

"Watch and learn Y/N," Sanzu smirked at you as he chose his avatar. Rindou was waiting impatiently as Sanzu took the time to actually design his avatar, cringing when he made the hair colour pink. "Can you hurry up?"

"Patience is a virtue Rinrin." Sanzu says, eyes narrowing as if he was in deep concerntration as he adjusted the height of his avatar. Then he moved onto the face, chosing the eyeshape and size carefully and Rindou groaned loudly causing you to laugh, "It doesn't matter waht your fuckin' character looks like. He will be covered in blood by the time I'm done fighting you."

You giggled at their interaction and Rindou acted like the sound wasn't music to his ears. "Ok done, your turn," Sanzu pressed confirm on his avatar and Rindou just selected the default character before starting the match. It has been 2 minutes so far and Rindou won the first match, a smug look on his face as Sanzu started to spam the buttons with random moves.

Smug look turned scowl as Sanzu's spamming technique worked. You were watching, entertained as Sanzu kept punching Rindou's character over and over again until GAME OVER appeared on Rindou's screen. "Fuck you pinkie," Rindou tossed the controller on the couch, clearly pissed.

"Don't hate me cause you suck." Sanzu stuck his tongue out, "Y/N wanna try?"

"I don't know," you said, fingers still petting the dog as it laid on your lap, clearly enjoying your presence.

"I'll go easy on you, promise."

You sighed, lifting the dog up and stood up to your full height, grabbing the controller. Rindou snaked his arm around your waist, bringing down onto his lap facing the TV, "Let me teach you how to play." Your face heated up as the sudden close proximity and the words failed to leave your mouth so you just nodded.

Rindou brought his fingers over yours, explaining which button meant kick, punch and dodge. You nodded, studying each button as he explained. "To do a combo, you just press this and that one at the same time."

"Okay."

He pulled away, but still kept you on his lap as the dog walked over to you and laid by your feet. "Ready?" Sanzu asked, bringing his feet up onto the couch to avoid the dog at all costs.

"Yeah, i'm ready."

"Wanna design your avatar?" He asked and you nodded. Sanzu pressed exit and start new match, selecting his already predesigned avatar. You selected the female option and started to take your time aswell to design it causing Rindou to scoff, "You two spend more time designing than playing."

"Losers don't get opinons Rin," Sanzu shushed him as he watched you press confirm on your avatar.

"Just cause you're a girl doesn't mean I wont beat your ass ok?" Sanzu said smugly as he started the match. You rolled your eyes and started spamming random buttons, accidentally unlocking a new combo that Sanzu or Rindou have never seen before,

"WHAT?!" Sanzu yelled as his character instantly got K.O'd.

"YAY!" You cheered, holding the controller up in the air, "You were saying?" You turned to face Sanzu who just glared at you.

"Me and Y/N are a team," Rindou said, holding you closer to him. You snuggled into his side as he said this.

"Boy shut up. You're just saying this because she won ." You watched as the two started to argue again before the smell from the kitchen started to hit you. The aroma made your stomach growl loudly which shut the two boys up. "Don't laugh.." you said embarassed as you covered your stomach with both arms.

"Ran how much longer?!" Rindou yelled to the kitchen.

"Like 20." He responded and you could hear the sound of water running. He was probably doing the dishes.

"Well can Y/N get a snack or something? She's starving," your eyes widened and you were quick to shush Rindou, "It's fine Ran! I'll wait till you're done."

There was no response, instead you just heard the sound of a cupboard opening then footsteps. He stood in between the hallway and the living room, tossing a packet of strawberry flavoured pocky into your lap. "Oh.. thank you." You smiled and he nodded, making his way back to the kitchen.

"Let's play another one y/n, I'm not happy with my loss." Sanzu admitted, handing you the controller.

"Can you not see she's eating?" Rindou grabbed the controller from Sanzu, "I'll verse you again."

Sanzu nodded and you watched as you pulled a stick out and started to chew on it. Rindou seemed to be really into this match this time, cause his entire focus was on the screen as if he was determined to beat Sanzu.

Sanzu on the other hand was spamming random buttons to try and win, like usual. Your gaze travelled down to the dog who was watching the screen with it's tongue out. You grabbed the pocky packet, checking the ingredients making sure none of it's harmful to the dog before pulling out a stick and holding it infront of the dog.

The dog got up suddenly, causing Sanzu to flinch (again) and resulted in him losing his focus, allowing Rindou to slam him to the ground and win the match. "Fuck." Sanzu cursed as Rindou cheered. "Thank you Cleo," he staked his arm around the dogs side, patting it twice.

"The dogs name is Cleo?" You asked, and Rindou nodded watching as you were holding the pocky out for the dog as it chewed on it before biting it and lifitng it off your hand. Some of the dogs saliva was on your spare hand so you stood up, "Where's the bathroom?"

"Upstairs." Sanzu responded, scrolling on his phone with a visible pout on his face from losing. Making your way upstairs, there were 3 rooms. One you recoginsied last time as Rindou's room, the other was either the bathroom or Ran's room.

Taking a risk, you walked down the hallway, opening the first door you saw, hoping it was the bathroom.

"You asked her out yet?" Sanzu asked now that you were out of sight. Rindou shook his head, "Too early for that. We only met 2 months ago."

"2 months?" Sanzu said, eyebrows raised, "Seems longer,"

"It's ready." Ran called out from the kitchen, drying his hands.

After everyone eats, you're all back in the living room, except Sanzu is showing you how to play this very very confusing battle royale game. You were watching as he explained everything to you and Rindou and Ran were sat on the couch. Cleo was on Ran's lap as he fed her the left over food he had made. Rindou seemed to have zoned out, deep in thought before he was just looking down at his lap.

Ran nudged Rindou with his shoudler, causing him to look up. "You good?" Ran asked and Rindou nodded, "Yeah, why?"

"You seem out of it."

"Just thinking,"

"About what?" Ran asked him, patting the dog on top of the head before it hopped off his lap and walked down the hallway.

Rindou shrugged, his eyes shifting over to you and Sanzu, hating the way both of your knees were touching each other as you both sat next to each other. Hating the way his fingers touched yours as he explained. Hating the way you were smiling when he made a joke.

"Y/N, I'll drop you home." He stood up abruptly, "it's getting late."

You brought your phone out of your pocket and saw the time read 9:34PM. It was pretty late.

"Who's that?" Sanzu asked, pointing at the notification on your screen, the name reading Akira.

Rindou made his way over to you and peeked at your phone screen. The message from Akira asking 'You up?'

Who the fuck...

"He's my friend," you put your phone into your coat pocket, "I met him during one of my lessons and he helped me when you were away."

Oh.

Rindou nodded, before grabbing your hand and leading you to the door as you put your shoes on, "I'll be back in like 10 minutes."

Sanzu and Ran waved goodbye to you as Rindou led you outside and onto his bike. "Hold on tight ok?"

Nodding, you stepped onto the bike, sitting right behind him as you wrapped your arms around him and dug your face into his back. The ride was pretty short, since you both live near each other and he watched from the end of the road as you waved goodbye at him before entering your front door.

***

THANK U ALL FOR 400 FOLLOWERS ☹️☹️ ILY GUYS

and i hope you enjoyed this chapter. it’s pretty long

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #rindou x reader #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindou x you #haitani rindou imagines #rindou haitani scenarios #rindou haitani x reader

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blunderbots · 3 years

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Rise of the Wisps Part 1

Orbot paced about the room–Metal Sonic would be here any minute now, and he was not looking forward to having his superior silently staring down at him. The fur on the back of his neck stood on end, and the armadillo put his hands together, attempting to still his quaking. Dr Eggman had originally been overseeing the project, but since the blunderbots were prone to taking too many breaks instead of remaining hard at work, he had decided to put Metal Sonic in charge of them, which was a terrifying prospect of itself. Orbot’s dear companion, Cubot, wasn’t as comforting as usual, mostly since one of the crates containing multiple Wisp containers had nailed him in the head, and promptly caused his voice chip to become discombobulated. Because of that, well, he wasn’t really speaking at all, and when he was …

“ROCKET!” Cubot boomed, throwing his hand out to catch a tumbling Wisp container that he’d clumsily dropped from his stacked pile. Orbot jumped, and proceeded sigh, shoulders slumping as he walked over to grab his own sets of containers, and bring them over to the nearby Drainer.

“Cubot, can you please be careful? Metal Sonic is on his way, and the Boss already knows we’ve been lazing about… we have to at least appear good at our jobs.” A bit of a smirk from the armadillo, and Cubot turned his head to give a thumbsup. “We really need to do something about your voice chip, pal. It’s no fun carrying a conversation by myse–”

And just then, the exit opened up, revealing Metal Sonic as he stepped into the room, red eyes piercing the dim lighting of the room. Orbot and Cubot immediately stood at attention, saluting their superior officer and looking as professional as possible… until it seemed a good amount of time to set at ease. Metal Sonic wasn’t that talkative, so it was better to try and… figure out what he wanted rather than wait for him to say anything.

“Metal Sonic, Sir! What a–”

“GOOD! GREAT!! AWESOME!!!”

Orbot glared at his companion, elbowing him in the side before turning back to Metal, hands clasped together eagerly, “–Honor it is to work with an–”

“OUTSTANDING!!!!!”

Oh for the love of– “Marvel of engineering such as yourse–”

“AMAZING!!!!!!!!!”

With a kick to the back of the leg, causing Cubot to wobble and nearly lose his balance, Orbot turned to Metal once more and put a hand over the Labrador’s mouth, sighing loudly, “Pay him no mind. His voice chip has been on the fritz, you see.”

Cubot whined out a pathetic “ROCKET!” from behind Orbot’s hands, and the armadillo groaned, rubbing his temples. Okay, back to business. Metal Sonic was already ignoring the both of them, walking to the nearest capsules and examining them. Orbot was quick to remain by his side, ears lifting up. “Now, is there anything we can do to make your time with us more pleasant?”

Those piercing red eyes flashed as the blue robot barely turned to face Orbot, and the armadillo felt a chill of pure dread race down his spine. He let out a little nervous laugh, hands squeezing tightly together as he backed up, bumping into Cubot’s front, “Ah, yes, of course! Our jobs…” So much for more breaks. There’s no way Metal Sonic would allow them time to goof off, “We’ve just got to get these Wisps,” he gestures to the seemingly endless piles and crates of the critters, careful to keep his tone friendly and welcoming, “processed and shipped out across the planet.”

Dr Eggman’s stern words rang in Orbot’s mind, his ears stinging with memory from when the egg-shaped scientist had grabbed them and hoisted him up by them. “And Eggman asked very sternly that we not do it like complete…” he made quotation marks with his fingers, allowing just a bit of his restrained resentment to seep out, “bumbling imbeciles.”

Metal Sonic didn’t seem all that impressed. Actually, he didn’t seem like he had any expression at all, considering he had zero facial emotion to begin with. No mouth, only evil eyes. With the lack of feedback, Orbot bowed low, smiled nervously and gave a thumbsup, before slapping a hand to Cubot’s back and pushing him to another part of the room… To work, to work!

As the two started picking up capsules, Orbot noticed that Metal Sonic had followed them over, and he attempted to remain friendly. Both Cubot and Metal were unable to talk, which made Orbot self conscious about how much he was speaking, and then, well. It was leading him to just talking from a stream of consciousness sort of way, “but don’t you worry–Big bro!–Can I call you big bro?”

Oh no, why did he say that? Metal Sonic was going to eviscerate him. Or maybe it would endear the superior robot to Orbot and Cubot, and like his namesake, he’d want to look out for the two Robians. Protect them! … Not bloody likely. The lack of response of any kind had Orbot immediately speaking again.

“–Anyway, we aren’t bumbling at all! Are we, Cubot?” He’d turned to his companion, who despite being bigger than both of them, was struggling to carry the five or six capsules he’d decided he could totally handle, and they were bouncing around in his arms… CRASH!!!

This was clearly all the evidence Metal Sonic needed, as he immediately took both of Orbot’s capsules from him, turned, and proceeded to head towards the Drainer, with Orbot wincing and walking after him, whimpering as he tried to think of something to say. This was definitely going to get them scolded by Dr Eggman, for sure.

While the three worked, they weren’t paying attention to the secret Wisp Mission happening behind them, with Wisps being freed from their capsules left and right. It wasn’t until a Jade Wisp flew through Cubot that things started to get interesting. His body turned green and became translucent, and the capsules he’d been carrying smashed on the ground, freeing the Wisps trapped inside, much to Cubot’s absolute bewilderment. He was trying to recapture the Wisps, but they were too slippery for the big badnik.

Orbot, who’d been attempting to make sure everything would run smoother from here out, put his hands on his haunches and glared at the Labrador, “Honestly… What did I JUST say about bumbling?” Cubot wanted to whine, but nothing came out of his throat, and so his tail hung between his legs and his ears drooped lower, shoulders sagging. Just then, more Wisps began to fly around the room, escaping out the exit–Orbot and Cubot had to move fast to try to capture them all. Jumping and running to and fro, grabbing as many as they could as Metal Sonic joined in the hunt.

Things were going well, but Cubot bumbled into Orbot, and all the progress they’d made was for nothing–there go all the Wisps they’d just caught! Luckily, Metal Sonic had captured the defacto leaders of the Wisp Resistance, even as they used their abilities against him, he was much stronger than they were.

Still, quite a few Wisps had escaped, and that meant bad news for Orbot and Cubot. Their heads hung as they bowed low to Metal, who walked past them without so much as a glare. Inserting the re-captured Wisps into the Drainer, he mercilessly stole their Energy from them, transforming them into Void Wisps, purple and zombie-like husks.

It seemed that Metal Sonic would be accompanying the blunderbots across Sweet Mountain, to ensure that their jobs were done properly.

#drabble ;;#rewrite ;;#Two Birds on a Wire (Orbot and Cubot)#Sonic Colors Ultimate #okay to rb #game verse ;;

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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

Steamy waters — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 7.8k

Genre: smut, pwp, fluff, mini tiny angst; established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello teddy bears! I was supposed to take a small break today, but I decided that I wanted to keep working on Steamy Waters since it was Hobi’s turn and it could be an awesome chance to gift this job to an incredible writer who I’m getting to know these days. It was her birthday recently and I thought that I could offer her this small thing as a two-day-late birthday gift. Happy birthday, @xjoonchildx !

As most fics I write, this can be read as a standalone, however, just to find the right vibe (*haha foreshadowing is a lovely thing*) I decided to ideally set it after The Studio.

For those who haven’t read it, I’ll run a quick recap.

Giggles has moved into Hoseok’s apartment, but unfortunately he couldn’t help her since he’s been incredibly busy working on a new project. Giggles was very angry and visited his studio. Since he feels horrible, he asks her what he needs to do for her to forgive him. Giggles states her conditions and decides to proceed with the plan that brought her to his studio, tying him up to his chair and toying around with sensation play before giving him head, their reunion culminating in very emotional and heartfelt fucking (it exists, look it up in the dictionary).

Now, as Hoseok drives her back to their home, he can’t stop thinking of how she took the reins, but also he can’t wait to make her pay for the incredible amount of torturing she put him through. Plus, he’s still thinking about the content of her totebag… As soon as they get home he decides to hit the shower, the water clearing up his mind and helping him organise all his ideas into a plan. That is, if Giggles doesn’t play her wildcard first.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing. Master!Hoseok, sub!reader; Bondage (rope and manacles), mentions of tickler, riding crop, flogger, mentions of squirting; mentions of angst related to Hoseok being busy with his job and not supporting his girlfriend as she moves in his apartment; ben-wa balls; massage oil; grinding and masturbation (male and female receiving); very brief oral (female receiving); multiple cumshots and cumplay in general, mentions of cum eating; a very fancy riding crop; sensation play; tickle play; overstimulation; laugh fetish, crying (from overstimulation); and finally vibrating cockring and multiple orgasms. Have I ever mentioned Hoseok likes changing positions a lot? Well, anyways, suit yourself.

[Ana, if any of this stuff triggers you I am extremely sorry and you are allowed to request a refund for this messy, unedited gift, and I’ll make sure I can offer you a wholesome, cuddly Hoseok taking reader on a cute date and spoiling her rotten with love and affection 😅😊]

Here is my masterlist :)

Enjoy this (for now unedited) mess ✨💜

——————————————————————

Hoseok’s eyes kept wandering between the red traffic light in front of him and the cotton tote at your feet as you sat on the passenger seat of his car, headed to your apartment.

Your shared apartment.

Your home.

He was still trying to understand how you had found the courage to turn his toys against him, to play a role he’d never imagined you in.

You and your pretty eyes and your cute smile and your lovely hair, and your delicate, tiny hands, teasing him with the tails of his flogger, pushing it against his face, making him guess with a blindfold covering his eyes.

He shut his eyes shaking his head energetically as he focused on driving, starting the car once he saw the car before him starting to move forward.

You were laying with your head against the headrest, eyes closed, peaceful while he drove.

He was the best driver in the universe and being in a car with him felt relaxing. You felt safe. Which is pretty rare to you while being in a car with anyone else.

Once you reached the parking lot under his building, you opened you eyes, blinking a couple times. He bent to your forehead, placing a gentle kiss between your eyebrows. “We’re home, sweetie.” He whispered, unlatching your seatbelt.

“Already here?”

“You fell asleep for a bit.” He said, caressing your hair off your face and cupping your cheek. “Let’s head upstairs, Giggles.” He said, undoing his seatbelt and exiting the car.

You laid one more second before opening your door, getting ready to exit just as he appeared before you, offering you his hand.

You took it and climbed off his suv, shortly before he bent forward and took your bag, closing down the car. He placed his arm behind your back, around your waist, pulling you into his side as you stood in the lift. “Are you sleepy?” He asked, poking your cheek and smiling tenderly at you.

You thought about it. Yes, you were a bit sleepy, especially after how he had used you in his studio, and the strong emotions that had possessed you there, however you could perceive his energy, like the humming, crackling sound of static, which made you impatient and oversensitive. You could almost hear his brain plotting and you felt at a few seconds away from snapping at him and tell him to do it already.

“Not that much.” You replied.

You reached the front door and he unlocked it, walking in and taking off his sandals, placing your bag by the door, and extracting its content.

Rope. Flogger. Riding crop. Tickler. More rope. Another bundle. How did you intend to use all that rope, he asked himself as he frowned, headed to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and put the rope on the box he kept under his side of the bed, resembling a small container to store away clothes but actually containing bundles and bundles of rope in different colours, and other smaller boxes. He looked specifically for one, extracting it and placing it over his bedside table.

You didn’t speak as you saw him extract a small bag with toy cleanser and a rag, the other three toys laying at his side as he sat on the bed with his legs spread wide, holding the rag with his right hand and spraying the cleanser with the left one, putting the bottle down before he grabbed the flogger and started to wipe the damp fabric over the leather.

You stood at the door, leaning against the doorjamb, staring at his hands as he used his left one to hold all the tails but one, which he caught with the rag and wiped clean. Moving it aside, he proceeded with another one, his strong and slender fingers stretching to keep the two groups separated.

Those beautiful hands.

You walked closer, around the bed, climbing up behind him and placing your mouth against his neck. “Your hands are so pretty.” You whispered, staring at his digits skillfully handling the toy.

He smiled. “You have mentioned liking them, a couple times.” He replied before chuckling.

“Will I have them inside me again before tomorrow comes?” You asked, mouthing at his ear.

He shrinked, trying to run away from the tickling touch of your tongue. “I thought I had already fed you, hungry little monster.” He said, finally done with the twelve tails and wiping the handle before he bent down to put the flogger into its longer box, wrapping the tails loosely around the handle.

“You were fucked out, almost into dreamland five minutes ago.” He commented, spraying some more cleanser and wiping the wet cloth over the riding crop. You parted your legs wide as you sat on your heels, trying to push your hips against his back for some friction.

“That was five minutes ago.” You replied, your hands skimming down his arms and stopping at his wrists, wrapping around them. “Before I saw these.”

Hoseok had his hottest looks. When he was on stage rapping. When he was sweaty on top of you. When he grinned and licked his lip before biting it, with that specific cocky smirk after making you cum. When getting ready to wreck you. When getting his toys ready to wreck you.

And the fact that he always double cleaned his toys — before and after use — created this sort of vicious circle where you couldn’t understand whether he was done with you or simply getting ready to start again.

Your life was like a pendulum swinging to and fro between arousal and pleasure — to incorrectly quote Schopenhauer. And as much as he was your sweet boyfriend, taking you on picnics and covering you in gifts and letting you pet all the dogs you met on your walks, he was you greatest source of pain and pleasure, in the most addictive, perfect mix of the two.

In this moment he embodied that, precisely. Because, no matter how spent you had been twenty minutes ago, you were once more ready and craving.

“Stop rubbing your sweet, soft pussy against me, little bird.” He murmured, placing down the crop in another box and placing the lid on it.

“Please, master.” You called in your most tantalising voice.

He cleaned the handle of the tickler, spraying some cleanser in the air before letting it fall over the feather, flicking it a couple time with strong snaps of his wrist.

And that’s why you loved him with a flogger.

He placed down the tickler in a third box, where laid another fancy stick culminating in a small rectangle of fur.

You stretched your neck to stare at it longingly before he closed the lid and zipped the large box closed, placing the cleanser inside and throwing the cloth on the floor.

“Go shower, little bird. You’re still messy from earlier and you need a nap.” He said, shortly before noticing your pout. “What is it?”

“I want your fingers. And the tickler. The furry one.” You said, lacing your fingers with his and feeling his strong knuckles.

He stood up and turned to face you, your arms getting tangled up together. He tugged at you, bringing you closer to the edge of the bed before freeing his arms, pushing your wrists together and grabbing your chin.

“I said: go shower.” He chastised, his voice so, so serious.

You frowned at him. “What if I don’t?”

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, swatting at your mouth in scolding, but at the same time with infinite care. He wasn’t the type to hit someone’s face, even though in moments like this he really wanted to.

You had never been a brat. Of course you had bratty moments, but he never had to discipline you like that. You are his sweet baby, his little bird, delicate and obeying. Why would you challenge him like that.

You turned your face away from him as he studied your warmongering stare.

“Little bird. Go shower. I’ll join you in a bit.” He said, his eyes perusing your lineaments.

You stood up and walked to the en suite bathroom, making sure that he was staring at you as you stood on the corridor and took off your clothes in quick, angry movements, your trousers coming off together with your panties, then loudly and indignantly you walked your way into the bathroom.

Hoseok stared at your scene, quite ignoring what made you snap, but pretty sure about how to ease your temper. Quickly he re-opened the box and extracted two sets of manacles, studying his bed before realising how he could possibly fix that.

Nodding at himself, he took out a smaller bundle of rope, starting a hook around two bars in the middle of the headboard.

Staring at the layout, he changed his mind again, undoing the knot at the headboard and moving it down, at the feet of the bed, lifting the mattress and looping the rope around the bed stave closest to the corner of the mattress and placing the rope neatly on top of the bed, the two tails perfectly parallel to each other, without overlapping.

He repeated the gesture on the other corner, meanwhile thinking about what knot he could possibly use to embellish your ankles.

Next, he secured one band of each manacle set to the sturdy columns at each corner of the headboard, opening both loose bands and preparing them to welcome your wrists.

Moving to your end of the bed, he searched for your box, finding it just behind the edge of the mattress. He lifted the lid and looked inside, observing the content with an eyebrow raised, face completely impassible. Spotting a familiar tool, he picked it up in his palm, trying to think of how he could use it. Giving up on the idea — a shower scene allowed poor lubrication — he considered another option.

He chuckled to himself and looped his finger through a small ringlet, extracting a series of silver balls attached by a silicon string. “Hell, yes.” He murmured, closing the box, already savouring how sensitive you would be after having those inside you, and how incredibly responsive your cunt would be to his fingers once he pulled the spheres out of you. He fixed your box back in place, ready to reach you in the shower when he took a couple steps back, looking at his own box again, sucking at his lower lip.

Fuck it. He bent down and found a smaller box, substituting the one on top of his bedside table and placing his furred riding crop in a handy position, but at the same time out of your sight. Laying it on the small bench at the feet of the bed, he placed the pillows on top, baring the bed and making sure that the mattress was covered in waterproof bedding, just in case.

Satisfied with the layout, he took off his sweater and jeans, collecting your clothes too and leaving all of those in the small chest with the dirty laundry.

Now he was ready to follow your furious warpath.

Standing at the door in the bathroom, he stared at you, your eyes closed as you rinsed your shampoo out of your hair, all the suds rolling gently down your body.

You looked majestic. And so gracious.

He toyed with the metal spheres in his hand, rattling them a little to signal his arrival.

You spotted him and turned away.

Took you long enough, you thought, ignoring his presence. And next thing your knew, his right hand appeared at your waist, sliding down to your belly button.

“Do you want me?” He asked, pressing his mouth below your ear, his hips getting closer to you.

You were still feeling a bit petty. But also very horny.

He simply hugged your back to his front, waiting for your approval before touching you between your legs, his fingers tiptoeing around the imaginary line connecting one hipcrest to the other.

“Do you want me, though?” You asked tensely.

He kissed down the muscle of your neck, moving toward your collarbone. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry I’m so angsty.” You said, turning around and hiding into his slim chest.

“It’s okay, little bird.” He said, relieved that his loving girl was back. “I woke you from your nap in the car. You’ve had a stressful week and I was away.” He ran his free hand down your spine, caressing it with the very tips of his fingers. “You were needy and I bet you didn’t even have the time to take care of yourself.” He bent down to your ear. “And if I’m not mistaken it’s been two weeks since you last had your period.” He tutted and cooed as he drew his nose down your sensitive neck. “You must be so needy.”

You felt like collapsing. It was so good to be his. “I love you.” You replied, appreciating all those small considerations he was making, trying to understand you.

“I love you too, Giggles.” He said, joining your lips chastely, placing butterfly kisses over your lower lip, his brow furrowing as you gave small kisses in return. “Giggles.” He murmured on your mouth, his breath hot on your lips.

“Hobi.” You murmured back.

“Want your lips.” He said, his hand climbing up and sliding into your hair, blocking your head and trapping your lower lip between his teeth.

You moaned as he started sucking, his teeth dragging sublimely against the tender skin of your mouth.

“I’m not putting my hand between your legs unless you tell me to.” He said, letting go of your sensitive flesh.

“Please, do.” You murmured, trying to rub yourself against him, offering some pleasure too once your belly pressed against his length.

“I want your consent, little bird.” He clarified, his hand drawing innocent patterns at the middle of your back.

“You have it.” You answered, your hand stretching across his asscheek, trying to draw him closer.

“I have these, if you’re interested.” He said, removing his arm dangling from your shoulder and laying along your back, opening his fist and showing you the ben-wa balls.

“Yes.” You said, opening your mouth wide and rolling your tongue out, waiting for him to place the toy inside for you to lubricate it.

He grinned, proud. “Perfect.” And like that, the spheres were in your mouth, the small ring still hooked to his finger as he pulled the string out, your lips loose against the toy to avoid removing the drool covering them.

Once every ball was out, you turned and bent over.

“Smart girl.” He praised you rubbing your ass with one hand while the other pushed the first ball in. Then the second.

“Master, please.”

“I’m here, little bird. Only three missing, my love.” He reassured you while you felt the cool metal roll against your hot walls. “There. Another one. I’ll make you feel so good, my little dove.” His left hand slid to your front, between your breasts, until it landed on your face, curling around your jaw. “You can take it, baby. Only two left.”

You felt heavy and full, your inner walls clenching, tightening to sustain the weight of the spheres. Another ball slid in, wider than the one before, and smaller than the next.

“There you go, Giggles. You’re gonna be so tight after this. So sensitive.” He thought out loud.

“Only for you, master.” You moaned as you felt his fingers accommodate the last sphere, your inner muscles locking into a tight grip.

“Such a good girl you are. Can you stand up already, dove?” He asked, wrapping his arm one around your chest, and one around your waist.

“Yes, master.” You replied obediently as he helped you raise your torso, your eyes closing as you felt the toy move around and settle inside you as you reached your new position.

He cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly. “Excellent, little bird.” He rewarded you. “Have you already washed yourself?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Sorry I took so long to arrive.” He said. He was usually the one washing you when you showered together. “Guess you’ll have to turn around, then.” He announced, stretching to reach his body-wash, pouring some in his hands and foaming it up, rubbing it against his front while you turned and looked at him from over your shoulder.

“Curious, little bird?” He asked you, smirking and smiling devilishly.

You bit your lip and nodded shyly.

He moved forward so that his cock rested between your asscheeks and thrusted against you tentatively, frowning once after two strokes he already felt too much friction.

“Stay there.” He said, exiting the shower and looking into the cabinet, immediately spotting his target, deciding on taking it with him in the shower.

“Here or the floor?” He asked once you made eye contact.

You considered your options, throwing a towel on the floor and kneeling down on it, crossing your arms under your head to pillow it. “Here.” You said, looking at him standing tall over you.

“Oh, Giggles.” He said, chuckling. “You’re adorable.”

He moved behind you, your gaze focused on the floor as you heard him close the tap to the shower.

“I’m kneeling behind you, little bird.” He described exactly how he was moving, so that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by the situation. “I’m going to cover your cute little bum in massage oil, pretty thing.” He said. “Yes or no?”

“Yes, master.” You replied, staying perfectly still even as you felt the first drop of oil fall on your left ass cheek.

“I know it’s cold, ____. It’ll be warm soon, I promise.” He said, pouring some more on the other side.

The sweet scent of almonds filled the room, intensified by the steam still coming out of the shower.

You felt the sound of the bottle connecting with the floor.

“Here. Let’s make it warm.” He said, placing his hands on your ass and beginning to spread the oil. “Does it feel good, little bird?” He murmured, cackling as you squirmed once his thumbs pressed your labia close together, blood filling the soft, plump tissue, already aroused by the movements of the spheres inside you.

“Yes, master. It feels good, master.” You replied obediently, already pushing your crotch towards his hands. Next he pushed his thumbs from your labia to the skin just behind your hole, the ben-wa balls moving slightly as he pressed from the outside, drawing small circles around the sensitive skin of your entrance, looking as your nectar oozed out from your slick hole once he pulled your labia apart, bending down to lick at your arousal.

You moaned his name slowly, the final ‘k’ getting lost as your breath stumbled a few times in your lungs, drawing in a series of quick, shallow gasps before releasing a low exhale through your puckered lips.

“You’ve been eating fruit, mh?” He asked, noticing the exceptional sweetness of your juices.

“I like fruit.” You replied, trying to sound as coherent as possible.

Still, he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sensitive crotch while the tip of his tongue tapped against your clit a couple times.

“Master.” You called with a shrill whimper.

He removed his face from between your thighs.

“Yes, little bird?” He replied, standing on his knees behind you.

“Please, use me for your pleasure, master.” You begged, trying to push your butt against his hard on.

His hands kept spreading the oil on your behind, exploring every curve, feeling the soft texture of your flesh. “That’s very generous of you, ____. What do you think if we help each other with this? I could lend you a hand and you let me cum all over your sweet peach here.” He suggested.

“Please do. I want you to cum on me.” You said, turning to look at him, the tip of his tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth while his eyelids hung low, looking at your face.

“I won’t make you wait then.” He said, bending over you, his mouth immediately connecting with the small crevasse between your shoulderblades.

His hips slid against your skin easily this time, the feeling his palms squishing your asscheeks together as he thrusted back and forth, moaning and panting so close to your ear. His movements ricocheted inside you just as his palm slid forward, pressing against your belly in a kneading motion that made the spheres shift endlessly inside you.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, just as he changed direction, the tip of his middle finger reaching your hole, massaging the ring of muscles there before sliding down to your clit, drawing a few teasing circles before his palm moved back to the kneading motion aimed straight at the inner muscles of your vagina, the balls shifting against your g-spot with a pressure too gentle to resemble Hoseok’s attentive fingertips when he made you gush your release all over his hand.

“I’m close,” he said, his pace quickening, his target changing as he separated his hips from yours and bent his cock downwards, toward your belly. Using his left hand for leverage, he placed it on the carpet, his right hand covering his tip as he started chasing his pleasure with wicked strokes against your belly, his front parting from your spine as his hand pushed your lower back down, making you arch almost painfully while his pelvis hit your labia at every thurst, his length teased your clit and his tip poked your belly, making the spheres move, his hand pressing his erection to your skin and helping him reach his climax.

And it gloriously arrived, silent at first, and then exploding in a loud groan, as two and then free spurts hit your chest and your stomach messily.

You were close, so close, but your pleasure felt miles away, like your edge was nothing but an immense plain preceded by a steep but brief climb.

“Master, I’m not—”

He blinked a couple times as his high receded, his ears tuning in on the lack of noise, on you not crying his name, moaning and whining and whimpering with pleasure.

“Giggles?” He called, letting go of his softening cock.

“Please, master.” You repeated.

“Aren’t you done yet?” He asked kindly. “Do you still need me, love?”

“Wanna cum, please.” You wailed, trying to grind against any surface connecting with your pelvis. His palm used the oil left on his skin and the cum he had spilled on your navel to massage your belly, his other hand getting to work on your clit, your high becoming more and more real as you murmured on and on ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘there’.

“It’s okay, little bird. Let go.” He said, needing to bend to your ear and kiss you but deciding upon not messing up the angle now that you were close.

Your breath started coming out in messy hiccups. “Hobi, I— Please, it’s— Uh!”

He took in every small sign he could get as you rode his fingers, completely silent in your climax, even your breathing stopping completely while you focused on the mind-blowing feeling of the balls massaging your inner walls as they rolled inside you at every contraction of your muscles.

“There she is.” He called, diminishing his ministration, reducing the pressure of each touch until you opened your eyes and looked for his feverishly. “I’m here, love.” He helped your hips down, turning you around on the big towel and hovering on top of you warmly, fussing over you. “Are you okay, my precious dove?”

He longed to touch your face but his hands were messy and he limited himself to tender kisses to your face.

“Yes, I’m okay. It was just very intense.” You replied, closing your eyes.

“Quick, back in the shower, love. I have plans for us.” He said, raising himself of his knees before standing up. You followed him in slow motion, walking to the shower and closing your eyes as he rinsed his cum and the almond oil from your body.

“Are you sleepy now, my dove?” He asked, rubbing your booty and hugging you in the process.

“No. I want you.” You said, kissing his lips, nibbling at the thick vein of his neck.

“It’s your what… Third orgasm?”

You frowned and nodded. “I think so?”

“Okay. Let’s move to the bedroom.” He said, “You gave a special request, didn’t you?”

You tilted your head and he smiled beautifully, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I love you.” You murmured, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

With a fresh towel he dried you and then quickly dabbed at his own skin, leaving the bathroom messy, but knowing that he would come back once you were asleep.

“Go on.” He said, motioning at the door with his chin, directing you.

He walked behind you as you reached the bedroom and stood before the bed.

“I wanna tie you up. Play with you.” He said, skimming your sides with his fingertips. “If you’re interested.”

“Front or back?” You asked, figuring out how he wanted you to lay down.

“On your back.” He replied.

“Is the fur crop in the game?” You asked, observing the scene.

“Maybe.” He replied.

“That’d better be a yes.” You replied, climbing the bed.

“Rope and manacles?” Your asked, studying the layout.

“Yes. Manacles for wrists. Rope for feet, so you can hide those better. Or I could wrap something around your skin so it doesn’t chafe—”

“No need. A loose triple column should be enough. Hopefully I won’t tug.” You said, laying down and taking rough measurements of your placement. “I don’t think I’ll need a wrap.”

“Are you sure? We can bandage, you know it.” Hoseok sat at the corner of the bed, catching your ankle and making you bend your knee slightly before placing a kiss to your leg.

“I’m good.” You said.

“You will be tied up at the bed, wrist and ankles. I will tease you slightly first. I want you to relax. Once you’re all loose and soft, we’ll see where this will take us, yes?” He kept things vague, so to avoid ruining the anticipation, but also to keep you from feeling pressured into any procedure. “Do you agree with being tied up and undergoing sensation play?” he asked formally.

“I agree, master.” Etiquette is important. Formality gives importance to what you’re about to do. It makes you feel how dangerous it can be the moment you forget safety and responsibility.

“Which are your safewords, ____?”

“Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.” You replied, looking at him.

“Excellent. I’ll start with your left ankle, little bird.” He adjusted your legs, bending your knees about twenty centimetres off the bed, leaving a meter between your feet.

You stayed perfectly still as he caressed your foot and placed two fingers against your skin, beginning to loop the double rope around your leg and his fingers, without dragging it against your skin, but rather letting it caress it softly. Next he neatly hooked both tails under the loops on your ankle, bringing them up and tying them in a knot, tugging at it. The loops tightened slightly, but from the inside he wiggled his fingers, making sure that there was some extra space and that the knot could slide and give more rope, in case it got too tight. He set it a bit loose, not worrying about it slipping it off since the heel of your foot would block it.

He repeated the procedure on the other side, your legs secured to the bed.

You stared at his skilled fingers looping the rope tidily and precisely, knowing how order and cleanliness could help the moment he needed to undo those.

Next, he crawled up, towards your hips, straddling them.

He was already hard again.

You stared at his sleek, long shaft, how well it matched his lithe, sinewy body, how pretty it looked with the slight upward curve. So perfectly pink, matching his glossy lips and the tip the precise colour of his tongue.

He strapped in your left wrist without you even realising. “I see you’re distracted,” he commented, moving to your other wrist. He hooked one finger in the cuff before tightening it, making sure that even your wrist had enough space for wiggling and tugging without you getting hurt.

“Are you safe, little bird?” He checked on you, intertwining your fingers and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You rolled your ankles a few times, next your wrists, then wiggled your fingers. “Yes, master.” You replied obediently.

“Let’s put our scissors here,” He said, standing up and moving his bedside table closer to the feet of the bed, where he could possibly need to quickly cut the rope. After that, he extracted the safety scissors from the drawer in his bedside table and placed them on the table.

“Tonight I received a special request.” He said, completely comfortable in circling the bed naked, your eyes locked with his as he kept walking around, from side to side, like a predator, making anticipation grow, making you squirm and get worked up, waiting for him to pounce.

“My little bird said she was interested with a special toy. For special occasions.” He said, standing at the feet of the bed.

As he stared at your slit, you had the sudden realisation that the ben-wa balls were still located in your womb, the squeezing of your kegels heightening your awareness.

“And isn’t it a special occasion.” He leaned against the mattress, your neck straining as you stared at him, his eyebrows low on his dark, minaciously sensual gaze, his wet hair shading his ebony irises. “I’ll fuck you in our house. For the first time. On our bed.” He clicked his tongue a couple times. “Not like I didn’t fuck you in this bed before.” He chuckled. “I’ve fucked you plenty.” He smirked, and lounged for your calf, playfully biting it before running away, just in time to make you squirm and contract your inner muscles, making a moan bloom on your lips. “It’s just that it was my bed before. My house. And now it’s ours.”

He dug his hand under the pillows, extracting a stick from beneath the white beddings. A riding crop.

The riding crop. Your eyes zeroed in on the furred tip. And on the leather counterpart.

“It’s your friend, little bird.” He said, caressing his palm with the soft side. “Would you like to remind me how it works?” He asked.

“Yes, master.” You looked at him as he sat at the free space at your side, between your extended arm and your side. “The toy has a double tip. One is made of fur. The other is made of leather. The furred part caresses, the leather part slaps. Master.” You added, for good measure.

He touched your face. “Exactly, little bird. So, shall we celebrate?” He asked, suddenly feeling that his nakedness was jeopardising his power, taking a few steps to the chair in the corner of the room and wearing a loose silken robe, tying it around his waist with a lovely bow.

You were fully mesmerised as once more he started circling the bed. His first target was your ribcage, where he dragged the gentle tip against your skin, making you squirm and arch away from the tickling sensation.

“Ticklish, little bird?”

Bastard. He knew you were ticklish as hell. “A little, master.” You replied, your breath hitching as a small, helpless smile appeared on your face, as he toyed with your nipples.

He cocked his head to the side and smirked as he rubbed your nipples, stealing a small squeal from your lips.

“Just a little?” He asked again, moving to the other side.

“A bit more than a little, master.” You conceded, curving your torso out of reach.

He snorted out a laugh, arching an eyebrow and stretching his lips in a thin line as he sucked them between his teeth.

“Shall we test how much?” He asked, drawing a winding pattern on your belly, spiraling around your belly button. Your abs twitched uncomfortably as you squeaked with a hiccup, your quadriceps suddenly flexing with an involuntary reflex. And of course the spheres moved. Again. Hoseok spotted the precise moment your kegels engaged.

“Are those little balls inside you making you feel funny, little bird?” He asked, the tip of the riding crop travelling up, toward your neck, making your body toss as you tried to escape the sweet torture.

“Answer me, little bird.” He scolded you.

“I— God!” You shouted as he quickly took the crop away and slapped the leather bit against your nipple.

“It’s Hoseok or Master. No god can save you, princess.” He looked at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

You closed your eyes as you felt the heaviest sphere lay against your cervix. It was impressive that after half an hour you had such awareness of similar details. All the sex and the arousal and his lovingly wicked tortures will kill you someday.

“How is your tight, sweet pussy feeling, little bird? I won’t ask again.” He asked commandingly.

“It’s sensitive.” You replied. “They move and my walls move and they move some more.”

“That’s how I want you, ____. Sensitive. I want you to drench the sheets in sweat and then in cum, my darling girl.” He said, walking toward the feet of the bed and flicking the furred tip behind your knee, your leg flexing, trying to protect the weak spot by sticking it to the sheets.

He cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head in surprise. “Oh, not there?” He said. You didn’t realise you had just uncovered an even weaker spot. The crop moved like lightning, immediately reaching the sole of your foot and skimming the arch of it.

“Hoseok! No! Please! No!” You started tugging at the ropes, pressing the plant of your foot to the mattress but exposing the back of your knee in the process.

Giggles bubbled out of your mouth as your brow creased in discomfort, struggling at Hoseok’s game as he dashed from one spot to the other while you wiggled and tried to protect both, miserably failing. His eyes were trained on your leg, like a cat toying with a led light; he kept chasing your weak spot as it appeared on your toes then disappeared, suddenly surfacing at your thigh, only to disappear again and travel back and forth. And as you kept wiggling, fighting, tossing and turning, he expanded his battlefield on the other leg too, giving you no rest nor reprieve.

“Master, please!” A laugh broke your plea. “I’m sorry, master. Please I— Ah! I’ll— I’ll— No!” Another fit of giggles echoed through your abs, making you even wetter, your arousal sliding uncomfortably along your slit, back between your thighs and asscheeks. “I’ll behave— No! Please, I’m sorry— Stop!”

You tugged at your wrists, more laughs coming to your mouth and completely stealing any oxygen left in your lungs.

You were breathless.

“You know your words, little bird.” He said, seriously at your feet.

“Master!” You called in a weak prayer, barely a whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks, not knowing whether they were from the laughter or the helplessness.

“Your words, ____.” He said, still slowing down as he realised you were refusing to fight anymore.

“Master.” You cried out, lip wobbling.

He placed the riding crop at the feet of the bed, his body curling up in a tight ball as he sat on his heels and ran two fingers under each of the knots at your ankles, making sure that they loosened. But not undoing them yet.

“I’ll let you catch you breath, love.” He said, taking hold of the crop once more. After all, you hadn’t used your safeword. That means he can go on.

He skimmed it down his own chest, a pleasurable shiver coursing down his spine.

Next he turned his head, left and right, the movement resulting in a thick popping sound.

He walked close to your face, his lips forming a downward curve as he spotted your tears.

Gently he dried them with the furred tip, cooing at you.

“Poor little bird. Master made you cry?” He asked, touching your face with the toy.

You only nodded in return. He placed the softer bit against your mouth. “Come on, kiss and make up.” He said, staring at the small gesture.

First domination lesson: if your sub doesn’t kiss or lick anything you put before their mouth, then you haven’t trained them well.

Your lips puckered and disclosed with a small click of your lips.

“Good girl, Giggles. Very good.” He praised you.

He turned the toy around, offering you the other tip.

You looked him in the eye.

“You need to forgive it in advance, little bird.” He said, cocking an eyebrow and licking his lips. He was breathing heavily through his mouth, which had made his lips dry up too fast.

You gave it a kittenish lick before delivering a silent peck on it.

“Good, good girl, ____. Resist a little more for master.” He said, walking again to the feet of the bed. “Hold tight.” He announced before the crop snapped forward, hitting you straight on your swollen labia with unspeakable strength.

Your whole body jerked in the aftermath, trying to curl up in defense.

“Oh, Giggles. Did it hurt?” He asked, actual compassion in his voice.

“The spheres.” You said, your face twitching with the incredible pressure rushing through your whole body.

“I want one last thing.” He said, delivering light pats to your clit. “Just one.”

And just like that the riding crop twisted once more, going back to the furred head and beginning to dart between your thighs.

Again you tugged at the ropes, hoping they would allow you to close your legs. In vain.

The more you tugged, the more you realised you were completely at his mercy, laughters erupting from your lips in an open mouthed expression, your brow and nose scrunched up in helplessness. “No!” You shrieked, your face hiding against your arm as the fleeting touch of the crop brought new tears to your eyes and new giggles to your mouth.

“Master! Mercy! Please! I’m— Hos— Hobi! No! I’m— I’m a good girl...” You pleaded desperately. “I’m a good—” You spoke weakly. “Yellow.” You called, sobbing in earnest now that you felt afraid and frustrated, the spheres inside you something too difficult to handle for your tired and sensitive body.

Hoseok was trained on hearing your safewords. You had spent hours training with ropes and reflexes and responses. He had spent a whole night sitting on a chair, telling you to talk about your day and randomly insert your safewords in the conversation, jumping up each time you spoke one, then sitting again and tuning his ears to your small talk, ready to jump up at the next.

Therefore, when he heard your whispered ‘yellow’, he immediately stood up and threw the crop to the floor, out of the way, sliding his fingers under one of his knots and tugging at it composedly, watching as the loops loosened and slipped past your heel, off your foot. He moved to the next leg, this time acting even faster.

“The spheres. Yellow.” You sobbed again.

“I’m here, ____. I’m here for you, Giggles. You called your yellow, baby, I’m taking them out.” He explained, kneeling between your legs and tugging at the ring, the first coming out quickly, coated in your wetness; same for the next. The last three were almost imperceptible.

“There you go, Giggles.” He laid on top of you, keeping his weight from your body by propping himself up on his elbows. “Baby.”

“I’m so sensitive.” You cried out. “Please. Make it good.” You begged, eyes watering again.

“No, no, no, baby bird. Look at me.” He called, catching your chin between his index and thumb. “I’ll make it good. So good, love.” He murmured, feeding you small kisses. “So, so good, my tiny, precious Giggles. Do you trust master?” He asked, rubbing his thumb back and forth against your cheekbone.

You nodded.

“Then we’ll use this.” He said, sitting up and stretching to the bedside table, opening the small box he had placed there. He dove his finger in, fishing out a small rubber ring with a thick bullet attached. He brought it close to your eyes. You stared, mesmerised before nodding furiously. “But on a low setting. I’m very, very sensitive right now.” You said, worried.

“Of course, baby.” He said, quickly taking off his robe, parting his legs and biting his lower lip as he slipped the tight rubber cockring around his shaft and down to his base.

“Do you need your wrists free, dove?” He asked you, with an affectionate caress to your outer thigh.

“I can keep them.” You said, determined.

He spread your legs further.

“I’m gonna slide in, _____. Can I?” He asked.

“Yes, master.” You said, reassuring him yourself, stretching to watch him penetrate you.

The moment his tip rested inside you, you mewled in relief, the burning sensation barely there as he slid out, staring at the head of his cock coated in your thick, creamy arousal.

“You’re so good in here, love.” He said, sliding in again and bottoming out in one smooth thrust.

Your mouth stayed open as you finally felt the fullness of his sex fill your inner walls, brushing them in a way the spheres couldn’t, with their rolling and their complete lack of stiffness in length.

“Switch it on, please, master!” You begged with your most gentle voice, trying to conceal your command.

He obeyed you nonetheless. He wanted nothing but to see you spent on the sheets, with a beatific smile, clinging to him as sleep caught you in its motherly arms.

He pushed the small button controlling the bullet, even the lowest setting affecting him as the vibrations ricocheted to his balls, the tightness of the rubber postponing his release.

You reached your high in minutes as he slid discreetly, slowly, lazily in and out of you, focusing on a calm, steady pattern that could allow him to touch your face and caress your hair away from your forehead, to rub your lower lip with his thumb and place soft pecks on your temples and cheeks and jaw.

Your high welcomed you with open arms, like a dive from a cliff in the Mediterranean, the soothing blue embracing your body and cradling it, filling you with the energy of that calm, marine giant until you emerged again, drifting on the flat surface of the water, the sun warming your face, creating a complete sense of balance and peace with the fresh, cool sensation at your back.

Once Hoseok saw your eyes flutter open, he smiled, still driving his hips into you with tiny, controlled movements that he rarely offered you, and that fit the missionary position you were in.

He looked at you expectantly. You waited a couple more seconds before you noticed his hips faltering, one of your eyebrows arching. “Please.” He moaned.

You waited another couple seconds, watching his brow furrow, his lips pucker, his jaw clench before his mouth opened. “Please.” He repeated.

“Fuck me up.” You said, with saccharine voice.

A millisecond later, he was kneeling, your legs joined together and thrown over his shoulder, your ass hanging midair as he hammered into you with a speed you didn’t deem human.

“So sweet. Tight. Fuck!” He growled, moaning, his voice getting higher and higher in pitch until you felt him snap, his hips buckling forward.

And as his high bloomed you felt yours grow again, the reckless drive of his hips making your own pelvis undulate to meet his ruthless thrusts.

“Another?” He asked, his cock still painfully hard as he twisted the ring around and made sure that the bullet would meet your clit as he threw both your legs on the bed, your body rolling on your side while he picked up your knee and bent it to your chest. He adjusted the ring and once he felt your chirping whimpers intensify, he left it in place, hammering into you like a man possessed.

“Yes, Hoseok, yes! Keep going—” You spurred him on. “I love you so much, Hobi, I swear, please, if you— Yes!”

You both came undone, your body exploding like fireworks, your wetness pouring out of you endlessly, while he kept pushing, like he was trying to penetrate into the very soul of you.

And then he let your leg go, making your body roll back into the mattress, sliding forward and stretching his legs from underneath his body, his fingers fumbling with the vibrator and switching it off before laying on top of you, this time letting his weight fall on your body.

“Sex so good.” Hoseok murmured. “Never had it in my whole life.” He murmured, mouthing at your chest innocently, looking for reassurance and tenderness and cuddles.

“Hoseok, baby, I need you to undo the cuffs, love.” You said with a sheepish smile.

“Sure.” He said, suddenly awakening and stretching to reach the left cuff, then the right, unlatching them in record time.

Another part of his training.

Kneeling between your legs once more, he stared at you and rose to his knees, towering over you. With gritted teeth he started slipping off the cockring, more of his semen pouring out in small drops now that the tight rubber band was milking him of what he had left. You stared at the scene, at the focused, strained lines of his face, at the way his hair, now almost dry in soft little waves, eclipsed his gaze entirely.

He stared at your mound marked in his seed, before meeting your eyes captivated by the vision.

“I claimed my girl. In our house.”

“Way to christen the new flatmate.” You giggled as he laid down and nuzzled against you, not even worried about his cum staining him too.

“It’s our home.”

You nodded and caressed his hair. “Welcome home, love.” You said, happy that you could finally speak the words you’ve been dying to say since you had moved in.

“Welcome home.” He repeated, kissing your heart and closing his eyes, waiting for you to fall asleep before he stood up and fixed the mess the two of you had made.

#hoseok smut #jhope smut #hoseok x reader #jhopex reader #hoseok x y/n #jhope x reader #bts smut #bts blog #bangtan smut

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k-llama-llama · 4 years

Text

The Break

Stray Kids AU: 9th member

Tori x Stray Kids

Tori tells the boys about her plans.

A/N: What’s this? a post up on time? Please check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive posts you can’t get anywhere else, as well as lots of other cool benefits!

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Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“Can I talk to you guys?” Tori asked, coming out of the bedroom.

The boys were all sat on the floor, gathered around the noodles they’d ordered, and they looked up when she entered.

“Sure, what’s up?” Changbin said.

“Is something wrong?” Chan wiped his mouth, looking up in mild concern.

“Everything’s fine.” She reassured him. “I just...need to talk to you guys.”

She’d been trying to figure out the best way to approach the subject, but ultimately realized that there was nothing to be gained from beating around the bush. They needed to focus on their upcoming comeback, and they needed to know that she could be focused on it, no matter what was going on with her solo song.

Felix raised his eyebrows, and she nodded in confirmation.

“So.”She clapped her hands together. “I wrote a song.”

Jisung snorted. “We don’t care, eat.”

Chan slapped his arm. “Of course we care. We should all listen to it tomorrow, and maybe it could be a contender for our next album.”

“Why is her song automatically a contender?” Seungmin asked. “It could be terrible.”

“It probably is.” Jisung nodded.

“We should at least listen to it before we-”

“How about we let Tori finish talking?” Felix cut Hyunjin off, pointing back to where Tori was still waiting.

“Thank you.” Tori smiled at him. “Actually, I wrote the song for me.”

“Just for fun then?” Jeongin tilted his head.

“Oh, or you could do it for a dance cover!” Minho exclaimed. “It would be so cool if that was to a song you had written.”

Tori sighed. “How about we all just stop guessing until after I’m done?”

“Right, sorry.” Hyunjin took another bite of his noodles. “Go on.”

“And talk fast, I want to eat.” Jisung asked.

Tori sighed. “Well, I wrote a song for myself. And I showed it to JYP and he-”

“Why would you show it to JYP? We could just look-” Chan shrunk back from her glare. “Right, go on. I’m listening.”

“I showed it to JYP, and to Rain actually but that’s-”

“You met Rain?”

“Yeah, and he liked it, and he said I should release it.”

“Release it?”

“Yeah. On my own.”

She could see the wheels turning in their heads as they all processed it.

Minho got there first. “Like...a solo debut?”

“Exactly like a solo debut.” Tori nodded.

“But you’d....why would you...” Jeongin fumbled for words. “You’d leave Stray Kids?”

“You’re not allowed to leave!” Jisung exclaimed. “I literally just started to like you.”

Chan stood up quickly, his face pale.

“I’m not leaving.” Tori said quickly. “JYP suggested that but I didn’t want to.”

Chan breathed a sigh of relief. “So what are you doing then? We have a comeback coming up.”

Tori couldn’t help but notice that his voice seemed tense. If she had already told him that she wasn’t going to leave, why would he sound worried about it.

“I wouldn’t start until after our comeback.” Tori told them. “I have a meeting in a few days to go over my ideas for the music video and the choreography, and JYP was going to offer up some b-sides that didn’t make Twice albums for me to add.

“A solo mini album?” Felix exclaimed. She hadn’t told him that bit. “That’s awesome.”

“It is, Tor.” Hyunjin grinned. “I bet it’s going to be amazing.”

“And you’re choreographing it?” Minho asked. “Because I absolutely insist on getting a sneak peek.”

“Yes, a mini album. And yes, I’m choreographing it. I also have like a whole notebook full of concept sketches that I’m going to pitch to them. I’ve been saving up ideas for a while.”

“If you’ve been saving up ideas, why haven’t we heard about them?” Chan asked.

Tori tensed slightly. “I mean....they wouldn’t really fit Stray Kids, so I was just...”

“Saving them for yourself?”

“Yeah, saving one thing for myself. I choreography tons of stuff for Stray Kids, it’s not like I don’t do anything.”

“I know....but why...” Chan swallowed. “Can we talk?”

“Aren’t you talking right now?” Jeongin said, looking worriedly between them.

“Yeah, come on. This is good news, we don’t need to think about the-”

“Sure, let’s talk right now.” Tori crossed her arms. “Come on.”

She turned and marched into the bedroom.

Chan was right behind her, closing the door quietly as he turned to face her.

“It’s not that I’m not happy for you-” He began. “I just....”

“You’re just what? Because it sounded an awful lot like you weren’t happy for me.” Tori sat down on her bed, waiting for his answer.

“I just don’t see why you had to do this right now.” Chan told her. He was keeping his distance, as if afraid that she might bite him if he got too close. “We’re about to have a comeback, you literally just finished promoting with your other group-”

“My other group? It was a special, promotional group, that you told me I could do!”

“I know! And it was fine and it was really good. But why am I just finding out that you and JYP are prepping a solo album, and that it is slated to start going right as we’re getting back into our group activities.”

“I told you it wasn’t going to interfere. Do you not want me to do this?”

“That isn’t the point, I’m just-”

“No, it is the point.” Tori clenched her fist. “Right now, tell me honestly if you want me to do this project.”

Chan opened his mouth, and then closed it again. And then he swallowed and finally mustered the energy to speak. “Fine. No, I don’t want you to do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve been focused on your own stuff since the Wow Thing promotion last year, and I just think you’ve been....not as involved with the group as you should be.”

Tori felt her heart drop, but more than anything, she found herself getting angry. “How have I not been involved. I choreographed our last two comebacks, I haven’t missed or been late to a practice, I rerecorded like half of our songs to cover new parts. How is that not being involved?”

“You’re just....your attention is elsewhere.”

“I can’t keep having this conversation with you.” Tori shook her head.

“What do you mean?” He demanded.

“I mean....this is the second time you’ve given me permission to do something, and then afterwards you tell me you have a problem with it. And now I have a chance to work on something that I’m really really excited about, and you don’t want me to.”

“You’re still....you’re still learning Tor, you’re still growing with our group. I just think you should work on your skills here first and then, when we’re more senior-”

“I’m still learning? Do I need to remind me that you yelled at me once for trying to write a song.”

“I apologized. You had a song on our next album!”

“Yeah, and I haven’t had one since. And everything I’ve tried to work on, I’ve had to go to Jisung or Changbin for help.”

“That’s because you aren’t working on group songs, and I-”

“I have been learning! I have been practicing, and I’ve been getting better.”

“I just....” Chan pushed his hair back as he searched fro the right words. “I just, no I’m not going to-”

“You better say whatever it is you were about to say.” Tori snapped.

“You’re a dancer. Can’t you just stay a dancer and leave the writing and stuff to the rest of us?” He regretted the words the second they were out of his mouth.

Tori’s mouth dropped open as she recoiled. “How dare you?”

“Tor, what I meant was-”

“No, I’m done having this conversation in private.” She stood quickly, storming past him. She flung open the door to the living room, starting all of the boys who were still waiting.

“Noona, are you okay?”

“Just great, Jeongin.” She crossed her arms, glaring back at Chan as he stepped out of the bedroom. “Chan, why don’t you tell them what you just told me.”

“You’re not being fair.” He protested. “I’m the leader and I have a right to-”

“No, then I will.” She turned back to the others. “Chan just decided to let me know that all of you would probably prefer it if I stopped attempting to write music and just stayed as a dancer.”

“What?” Hyunjin’s eyes widened. “We don’t think that.”

Chan sighed. “I just think that your writing is kind of pulling you away from the group. And since the music you write isn’t necessarily our standard I think that-”

“Our standard?” Tori shouted. “I’m sorry I don’t meet your standards you-”

“Tor, no.” Felix pulled her into a hug, trying to force her to calm down. “It’s not worth it.”

“Um Hyung,” Jisung set his noodles down. “I don’t know how much of Tori’s music you’ve listened to but it’s really good. I don’t know what this standard is, but it might not be Stray Kids style, but it’s good.”

“She’s going to go solo.” Chan repeated.

“She’s going to release a solo album.” Felix said, still rubbing Tori’s back to try and calm her. “JYP offered to let her go fully solo and she wanted to stay with the group.”

“You knew?” Chan glared at him.

“Yeah, he knew.” Tori pulled back, wrapping her arms around himself. “Because I was so excited I had to tell someone. And I was really excited to tell all of you, too.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” Chan repeated.

“I don’t want to...” Hyunjin looked at the table as he spoke. “I don’t want to get in the middle of things. But Chan, you’re being kind of weird about this. Is there something going on that we don’t know about? Are you guys, back together?”

Chan’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Tori, as if wondering how she was going to cover for them.

She shook her head. “We were. Not anymore.”

“What? Tori, you can’t be-” Chan reached for her. “You can’t be serious. Just because I’m trying to be a leader and-”

“No, because you clearly are so insecure about me leaving this group that you’d let me just throw away an amazing chance!” Tori shouted. “One that I’m really excited about. And that I’m going to do, with or without your permission.”

“You don’t need my permission, you just need-”

“I don’t need your permission, and I don’t need your opinion.” Tori cut him off. “Because I am releasing the solo album.”

“Are you so mad at me that you’re trying to get back at all of us?”

“All of us were excited for her.” Changbin said.

“If Tori says she’s not leaving, she’s not leaving.” Seungmin added. “She can still release side music too.”

Tori stared at Chan.

Somewhere deep down, she’d realized that he wouldn’t be okay with this, but it still hurt. It hurt that he didn’t trust her and it hurt that he didn’t think she was capable of it. But she didn’t know a way to make him understand, and she wasn’t sure she was going to put in the effort, anyways.

“Felix,”She said quietly. “Can I show you some of my concept ideas?”

“Sure.” He rubbed her shoulder.

“Can I see too?” Jeongin asked.

“Sure.” Tori turned, heading into Felix’s bedroom.

Felix disappeared to go grab Tori’s laptop, and Jeongin collected a couple of containers of noodles before following Tori away.

“What the hell just happened?” Chan breathed as the door shut behind them.

“She dumped you because you’re being a jerk.” Changbin held out a pair of chopsticks. “You can only eat if you promise that you two will never date again.”

“Seriously,” Jisung nodded. “It’s such a headache.”

Chan sat down, trying to think of his next words. “You really think her album will be good?”

“I know it will.” Jisung confirmed. “I’ve heard some of the stuff she writes for fun, and it’s great.”

“But she’s-”

“Unless you’re going to go apologize, just eat.” Hyunjin told him.

In the bedroom, Tori had her laptop open, letting Felix and Jeongin flip through the pictures she’d compiled to be inspiration.

“It looks so good, Noona.” Jeongin told her. “I’m sure Chan will come around.”

“I think the problem right now,” She sighed. “Is that I don’t care if he does.”

#stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids 9th member #female kpop #female!kpop #female member kpop #requests open #au #kpop #imagines #imagine #kpop au #kpop imagines

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mckiwi · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 8: Coughing Up a Lung

Prompt: Exotic Illness

Characters: Stephen Strange & Tony Stark

Tony Stark hates magic, and some days, so does Stephen.

"Boss?" Friday asked cautiously.

"What's up, Fri? I'm kinda in the middle of something here." Tony said, blasting an alien with a repulser.

"The energy signature from the group at your ten o'clock is different from the others. The closest match I could find to theirs is the energy Doctor Strange uses." Friday answered.

Tony nearly faltered, "you're telling me they're using magic? Today just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" Indeed, when Tony landed near the group, their guns blasted that Eldritch orange instead of electric blue.

"Shall I call Doctor Strange for you?" Friday asked, already pulling up the sorcerer's contact on the screen.

"Not quite, let me see if I can deal with this mys–" an orange beam hit him square in the chest and sent him flying through a building like a wrecking ball. "Okay, yea. Call him. Ow." After several rings, it went to voicemail, "This is Doctor Stephen Strange. Please leave your name, number, and nightmare after the beep." Tony tried again, "come on, Merlin, don't leave me hanging."

"This is Doctor Stephen Strange. Please leave your na– Stark? What do you want?" The man finally picked up.

"Aren't you supposed to be the Sorcerer Supreme?" Tony asked sassily.

He could practically sense Stephen's eye roll even on the other side of the phone, "yes, and I'm busy due to that. You wouldn't be calling me if there wasn't an issue, so what is it?"

Tony scoffed even while firing a blast at two aliens, "geez, a guy can't call his best pal every once in a while?"

"I've heard at least three explosions during this call. Where are you?" Stephen demanded.

"Kensington. East 3rd street by that vintage coffee shop." Tony relented. "Small alien invasion, probably just scouts, but they're using magic and you know how much I hate magic."

"You do realize I use magic as well, right?" Stephen questioned, an amused lilt to his tone. "I'll be there in a moment."

"Knew I could count on my Awesome Facial Hair Bro." Tony praised with a smirk and ended the call.

"Call me that again and I'll leave you in the mirror dimension for a week," Stephen said as he walked through a portal behind Tony.

He winked, "no promises, Gandolf." The duo barely dodged an orange blast sent at their heads. "So I have a magic problem. You in?"

"I suppose," Stephen summoned twin mandalas at his fists. "Why are you here alone, anyway?"

"Peter's at school and everyone else would take too long to get here," Tony answered. Stephen knelt and slammed both mandalas to the ground, and a snake of pure energy jumped around and struck at any alien in its path. "I'll take the blue team, you take the orange?"

"Works for me," Stephen answered. Tony would blow up a few dozen aliens. Stephen would cut ships in half with the portals. Tony'd disengage all the guns pointed at him. Stephen'd reflect all magic blasts back at his opponents. They worked quite well together. In fact, the magic aliens were already retreating.

A bomb landed right at Stephen's feet, and Tony wasn't quick enough.

Dark smoke filled the air. Both he and Stephen started choking on the thick air before it cleared out. "Friday? What was that?"

"I couldn't tell, boss. Sorry." Friday apologized.

"Don't worry about it, baby girl. You did good today." Tony said. He stepped out of his suit and approached a still coughing Stephen, "you alright?"

Clutching a hand to his chest, Stephen managed a strangled, "yea." He was obviously trying to stifle the coughing fit, but they just kept coming.

"Easy there, Wizard. Do you have asthma or something?" Tony asked. Even while struggling for breath with a red, blotchy face, Stephen cut him an impressive side-eye. "Can you portal us to the compound?" Stephen croaked something with a nod and raised one arm to conjure a gateway. Only a few sparks appeared in front of them before Stephen crumpled with a gasp, eyes clamping shut in pain. "Hey, what's wrong? Strange?" Tony held the man by shoulders to ease his fall, not failing to notice how erratically the Cloak was twitching. "Stephen, can you hear me?" The sorcerer was breaking out in a cold sweat, still choking on his breath. Tony wiped away the sweat and placed the back of his hand on Stephen's forehead. "Okay, okay, crap. You're burning up. Friday?"

"His temperature is currently at 101° and his bpm is 125." Friday added, "I believe this was caused by whatever was in the smoke. Something affecting his magic. The energy signature keeps fluctuating."

Tony pulled up the energy signature on the screen. Each time the level dropped, Stephen would wince harder and his coughing got more haggard. When it rose, he could maybe catch a breath or two before the level dropped again. "Buckle up, Dumbledore. We're gonna take you back to Hogwarts." Stephen was coughing up red, now. "Stephen, listen to me if you can. I'm gonna pick you up and fly you to your haunted house. Just don't try to kill me, please." Tony picked up the groggy Sorcerer and took off into the air carefully. The altitude shift was enough to make Stephen's eyes roll back and lose consciousness. "Hey, hey! Wake up! You can't sleep yet."

Five minutes later, he landed at the Sanctum's front door and pounded at the door. Wong opened the door, but before he could say a thing, his eyes landed on the seizing Sorcerer Supreme in Tony's arms. "Help him."

To Be Continued on Day 10...

#whumptober2021 #no. 8 #exotic illness #doctor strange #tony stark #marvel #fic #fanfic #mckiwiwrites

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svtreasure · 4 years

Text

happy new year everyone!!

i’m sorry that i didn’t get this post up in time before the new year started, but i still really wanted to thank everyone for making me experience on tumblr so exciting!!

to my mutuals:

thank you thank you thank you!!! for all of the kind comments, all of the reblogs, and all of the likes!!! meeting so many new people on this website really brought me so much joy this year!! to everyone that i’ve ever talked to or interacted with, you truly are such talented and creative people, and i feel so thankful to be involved with such a positive and uplifting community! i hope that in the new year i’ll be able to talk to all of you, and that we can become friends!!! :)

to svtsource and my fellow members:

it has been such a joy to interact with all of you!! i feel so lucky to be apart of such a talented group of individuals!! i hope that we can all get to know each other soon, you all seem like really sweet and interesting people! i can’t wait to see what kind of content we come up with in the future!!

to my followers:

thank you to everyone!!!! even if you don’t follow me and have just reblogged or liked my work, every single note means so much to me! i’m sorry that i can’t respond to all of them, but i do promise that i read ALL of the tags that people rb with, and it really makes me so happy to know that there are people that feel the same way i do!! i hope that we can all get to know each other better and thank you so much for supporting my content!!

here are a few people that i really wanted to mention!

@spharus

laurie!!!!! thank you thank you so much for always being there for me!! whenever i wanted to talk or just listen to some tunes, thank you for being someone that i can really connect and vibe with!! i’m so grateful for the time i get to spend with you and i can’t wait to see what the new year has in store for us! i’m thankful to have someone who shares so many interests with me! you are so talented and such a great friend, i love you so much! i hope that the new year treats you very kindly because you really deserve it :’)

@gracie

cassie!!!!!! i love you!!!! thank you also for always being there for me!! you always know what to say to make me feel better, and i feel so reassured knowing that you’ll always be there for me!! thank you for being such a sweet person who always thinks of others, i hope you know that everyone around you really appreciates it!!! i’m so happy and lucky to call you my friend, and i really hope we can see each other soon imy!! i hope you have an absolutely wonderful 2021 and i hope that we’ll be able to spend it together!!

also, thank you thank you thank you so much!! for encouraging me to get back onto tumblr and teaching me how to gif!! it’s one of my favourite things to do now and because of you and laurie i’ve been able to meet so many kind people and i get to experience so much amazing svt content!!! thank you for always being my #1 supporters :) i love you both so much, i will always be here for you!!

@uriboogyu

lee i’m so glad that we met!!! you are so creative and talented and i really feel that i learn so much fro, your work!! i’m so glad that we can talk about svt with each other and that we’ve worked on so many projects tgt!! it makes me so happy to know that we can go to each other for advice on the content we create!! also talking to you is just so much fun and i find it crazy how we’re so similar!! i hope you have an absolutely spectacular 2021 and i can’t wait to see what we come up with tgt in the future!! ily!

@cutiejoshi

siri you were my first mutual!! talking to you makes me so happy because you are such a bright and lovely person!!! it’s so much fun talking to you and crying about josh tgt :’) i know you haven’t been online much recently but i hope you know that i’m thinking of you and that i really wish you the best!!! i will always be here if you ever want to talk, and i hope that 2021 is very kind to you!! <3

@fallinfllower / @mikwrites

mik i can’t believe we first bonded over cake!!! thank you so much for checking in and sending me such kind messages!! it always makes me happy to see notifications from you and our conversations bring me so much joy! also you are such a talented content creator and all of your work makes me feel all mushy inside :’) i hope you have an amazing 2021 and i can’t wait to talk more!

@kwonthefire

nini!! thank you for always checking in!! seeing your messages makes me so happy!! you have just the sweetest and such a positive vibe, thank you for being such a thoughtful person! i hope you have a wonderful new year and i can’t wait to get to know you better!

@2dgrlfriend

tiffany!! omg we’ve actually known each other for forever but tysm for introducing me to so many things!! (svt, haikyuu... you really just gave me my entire personality omg) i’m so glad that we still keep in touch and i really appreciate everything you send me!! (esp the cute haikyuu quizzes + art hehe) i love love love your pink aes. and i’m so glad we can talk about so many things we have in common! also i love love your writing you are so talented and all of your work is a pleasure to read! i hope you have an awesome (and pink!) new year!

some more mentions! I’M SORRY I MADE BANNERS TOO BUT FOR SOME REASON I COULDN’T ADD THEM :(

@myunqho

gabi!! you were also one of my first mutuals and that makes me so happy!! you are such a kind person and you have a really calm vibe, talking to you always brings me joy! we’re both pretty new to caratblr (although your work is soo popular and i’m so happy for you because you totally deserve it!!) and so i’m glad we can be there for each other! i hope your new year is absolutely lovely!

@lunatens

luna!!! omg you are so talented i love love love your artwork!! your style is super cute and it really inspires me to draw more!! also all of your animation projects seem really cool and you seem like such a soft person!! i hope you have a splendid new year and i can’t wait to get to know you better!

more mutuals and blogs i highly recommend! we might’ve never talked before or talked a little, but i hope we can get to know each other better this year!! i really appreciate all of your work, and i can’t wait to see more in the future! (these people are sooo so talented!!!! i am blown away!!)

gif/gfx/art:

@jonghan / @defgyus / @soonhoonsol / @junhaoshua / @iiasha / @sunnie-dk / @kyeomshine / @ajusnice / @junsol / @smallkore / @baekonbaek (@momohiirai) / @haniehae / @delicatecy / @xuseokgyu / @7ww / @gotseventeens / @ryudaeng / @baekonbaek / @jaemtens / @joshuahong / @squishy-woozi / @oanamii / @xuboowoo

writing blogs:

@haosvteen / @cupidhaos / @strawberryhime / @excelsi-or / @rq-s / @viastro / @memesolvernonchwe / @sunlightwoo / @gamerwoo / @cheolliewrites / @grassywoozi / @chocosvt

there are so many people that i’d like to thank!! if we’re mutuals and i forgot to tag you i’m so sorry please send me a msg and i’d be happy to add you to the list!!! it’s really late right now and my brain has stopped functioning so i’m sorry if there are typos/none of this makes sense but i really hope that all of you know that i love you!!! and i will always be here for you if you ever need me or just want to chat!!! i hope 2021 brings both us and seventeen tons of joy and happiness!!! happy new year everyone!!

#miamumbles #moots <3 #omg it's so late i need to sleep #this is so long ahh thank you if you read it all!!#i really love and appreciate y'all so much #i just wanted u to know #I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING YEAR #MUAH YOU'RE ALL AMAZING #let's be friends!!!!! :)

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, kevaaronday!

For @kevaaronday. I tried to use all the tropes you liked, though I played a bit with the coffee shop!AU request. It ended up being pretty long, but I hope it pleases. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!

Read On AO3

*****

Food, Drinks, and Pings

Stiles just wanted to clear things up—he did not work for Hale Corp, and he certainly did not work for said company’s inhouse café, The Family Bean. He was a writer, who just so happened to have been roped into the gig because he was best friends with the soulmate-fiancée of the best friend of one of the sons of the company’s owners.

See, one of Stiles’ best friends from high school was Erica Reyes, blonde, vivacious, and both crazy and powerful enough to castrate someone with her fingernails. She might look like she just stepped off the catwalk, with her hourglass figure, fluffy hair, and red lips, but she had a knack for business that led to a scholarship at a reputable business school. Stiles, on the other hand, took to writing like a duck to water, thanks to his overactive imagination and ability to turn a phrase. He could write anything and so he did—news pieces, articles, blogs, reviews, as well as a modestly famous soulmate series published under a pseudonym.

Erica’s soon-to-be husband and soulmate was Vernon Boyd III, a tall, dark, and delicious drink of chocolate, who was so fit he could bench press a baby elephant without breaking a sweat. He was the perfect picture of seriousness and silence, that Stiles used to wonder how he functioned as Hale Corp’s Director of Operations. After getting to know him better, he realized just how smart and charismatic Boyd really was.

Boyd’s best friend from childhood was Derek Hale, one of the sons from the famous and powerful Hale Family, owners and leaders of the mass media company, Hale Corp.

Stiles knew of the Hale Family, and who didn’t? You’d be hard-pressed to find someone who didn’t know the famous family of business tycoons and titans, a family so rich they could buy a person’s soul even. Nor would someone fail to hear about one of the most powerful love stories that rocked the world.

Talia Hale was the eldest child of the main branch of the Hale family and was poised to take over the world. Desmond Fitzgerald, in contrast, was the only child of elderly parents, and they lived at a shabby, squat house with no electricity, scraping by each and every day.

Talia’s father, the late and great Everett Hale, had visited the local community college as part of their charity program. Talia had tagged along, nineteen and already learning the ropes, and had tripped over the custodian who had been on his hands and knees straightening the welcome carpet.

Take a guess who the janitor was.

An accidental brush of skin, the burning of a Mark, and that was it.

Talia and Desmond turned out to be soulmates, and their Marks, her howling wolf and his crescent moon, had become one of the most romantic symbols of their time.

Now, where did Stiles and The Family Bean came in, you ask?

Aside from writing, Stiles knew his way around a kitchen. His mother had passed away when he was seven, and he had grown up with a Sheriff father who only knew the basics. Stiles had to learn how to cook a meal or risk them subsisting on fried everything and endless takeout orders.

So yes, Stiles knew how a kitchen worked. The thing was, Erica didn’t, and had spent high school eating Stiles’ meals and hanging around his kitchen. Nothing soothed her viciousness and temper like one of his desserts.

So whenever Erica was close to breaking someone’s jaw and risking a lawsuit, she’d invite Stiles over and he would come and work his magic at The Family Bean. It wasn’t like it was such a hardship. The place had a gorgeous kitchen, a full pantry, and a really comfy setup with cozy booths and colorful tables and chairs.

It wasn’t only Erica who benefited. Stiles often found inspiration at the tail end of a whisk or in between beating a dough into submission while listening to Erica’s gossip. He had come to depend on her brand of sass whenever he was suffering from writer’s block, or dealing with annoying clients, or avoiding his editor, Danny Mahealani.

It got to the point that Erica had HR make him a permanent guest entry pass—written down for Stiles S, Food Guy—and everyone knew him by name, the security, the delivery boys, the café’s actual employees, and some of Hale Corp’s employees.

That was what he meant by his original statement: He did not work for Hale Corp or The Family Bean. He was just Erica’s food guy and personal chef. Just another title to add to personal punching bag, platonic soulmate, best friend, and partner-in-crime, among others.

Boyd was surprisingly calm about the guy constantly hanging around his soulmate. Then again, no one would choose Stiles’ skinny ass for Boyd’s lusciousness, so Stiles could understand that he wasn’t much of a threat. Erica said that Boyd knew they were a package deal, and it helped that Boyd had been won over by Stiles’ banana bread. Either way, Boyd was cool and didn’t punch Stiles in the face for his and Erica’s weird platonic love affair.

So, in the end, that was Stiles’ life—work, his Dad, Erica, and his other friends.

Then the Hales happened.

It all started on a fine Monday morning with Kira Yukimura. She was pretty and petite, and the goddess who was actually the one in charge of The Family Bean’s kitchen. She wore floral dresses with studded combat boots, and held katana wielding lessons on Saturdays and a kids’ kitchen workshop on Sundays. Stiles adored her.

So when he walked in that day—after spending the entirety of the weekend not writing, because his protagonists, Peter and Wade, were being idiots—only to hear Kira’s cries for help, he was more than happy to tag in.

“I’m not crying.” She glared at him from where she was assembling sandwich orders, her gaze as sharp as her swords.

“But you still need help,” Stiles said. He put his laptop bag in one of the employee lockers, rolled up the sleeves of his red sweater, and put on an apron. “Erica wants to do lunch, but I decided to come in early.”

Kira nodded towards the window. “All right, because I got a purple ticket for you.”

Stiles jumped up. “Ooh, cool! I’ve never handled a purple ticket before!”

Kira gave him a relieved smile. “Well, today’s your lucky day. One of my employees called in sick, another is late, and I’ve got five packed tickets from different departments, three of them being rush orders, not to mention today’s purple ticket is a little too vague. I’m both swamped and stumped.”

“I’ve got your back, K.” Stiles gave her a salute and bounced over to the ticket tacked up on the holder.

Purple tickets were orders sent straight from the Wolf’s Den. It was the codename for the top floors occupied by the Hale Family and their closest associates. Boyd and Erica’s office were there, too. Stiles had only ever seen it through photos. There was a lot of security posted there, as if guarding the gates of heaven.

Anyway, purple tickets meant VVVVIP orders, note the number of ‘very’s. Kira usually handled those, but she obviously needed help now.

“Now, what do the Lords and Ladies want?” Stiles murmured to himself.

The Family Bean:

MH: hot chocolate

CC: pancakes

SHB: waffles

VHB: dirty chai

LH: anything

“You know who’s who?” Kira called out.

“Yep, I got it,” Stiles replied. He learned about this from Erica.

MH was Matthew Hale, the firstborn son and heir to the kingdom. CC was his seven-year-old daughter, who everyone called by her nickname. SHB was five-year-old Spencer, and VHB was his mother Valerie Hale-Barone, the firstborn daughter, second eldest, and the lawyer of the family. LH was Laura Hale, the third eldest and the maverick of the family. She was the only one not directly working for Hale Corp, and was more involved their side projects.

“Purple tickets are usually like that,” Kira said, looking at him with amusement. Stiles realized he had been frowning in confusion. “Despite being insanely rich people, they’re surprisingly not very picky about what they eat. Laura, in particular, will eat anything. It’s just difficult to give them variety or find a balance between upscale and too simple.”

“And now you want me to take a crack at it?” Stiles asked.

“Sure. It’ll be in my name anyway, and I don’t mind if you go wild,” Kira said encouragingly. It made Stiles grin. Most would be horrified at handing over their precious menu to someone who wasn’t a baker, much less someone who wasn’t a legitimate employee. But Kira had always been a rebel.

Under Kira’s guidance, Stiles filled up a purple delivery bag for the Hales. The dirty chai latte was pretty straightforward, though he didn’t know how Kira usually made it, so he went with his own style. He also made a raspberry hot chocolate, strawberry cheesecake pancakes, mixed berry waffles, and, for the anything portion of the ticket, a berry breakfast parfait made of yoghurt and fruits and graham crackers.

“Tastes awesome and looks pretty as a picture too,” Kira said, nibbling on her own waffle as she sat atop the counter, swinging her legs to and fro. Stiles could see a hint of her soulmate Mark under her dress just on the outside of her thigh. “I still believe you should have been a baker rather than a writer.”

Stiles grinned as he hung up his apron. “I’m both, but one pays the bills and the other’s a hobby. It’s surprising how most people would think one’s the other.”

“Kira?” a voice called out.

Kira perked up and immediately slid off the counter. She straightened her skirt and stepped out the door of the kitchen.

“Good morning, Derek,” she greeted.

Stiles peeked out unashamedly through the service window.

Tall, dark, and incredibly handsome, DH or Derek Hale was the middle child of the family. He was the Chief Financial Officer, and was said to be shyer and quieter compared to his more unruly and flashy siblings. It made sense why he was childhood friends with Boyd. The two seemed to share a calm, quiet demeanor.

Stiles had always thought that Derek was quite handsome in an already attractive family, and every once in a while, he would get front row seats—or the view through the service window—to the man in the three-piece suit with the godly shoulder to waist to ass ratio. It was quite inspiring.

“I heard Val and the others had a purple ticket sent down,” Derek was saying to Kira. “I’m on my way up and I thought I’d bring it along and save you a trip.”

“Oh, thanks, Derek. I’ll get it from the back,” Kira replied. “How about you? Do you want anything?”

Derek thought about it. “Just a drink. Anything you want to make me.”

“So long as it’s sweet?” Kira teased, which made the man chuckle.

It was like a bulb lit up in Stiles’ head.

He met Kira at the door when she walked back in, and it said so much about how awesome she was because she immediately said, “Yes, Stiles, you can make whatever you want. I mean, you’ve already tried your hard at the purple ticket. Might as well go all the way.”

“Thanks, K. You’re a goddess.” Stiles bounced off to the machines. He had always liked a challenge.

In the end, Stiles added his specially made ‘very merry berry frappe’ into the bag. He made sure to put it in a cup cozy to hide the purple color. He wasn’t sure if Derek would mind, but it just wouldn’t do for one of the bosses to be seen with a colorful drink. He let Kira whisk the bag away and they watched Derek exit The Family Bean.

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” Stiles murmured, eyeing the man’s backside.

“I’ll drink to that.” Kira giggled, clinking her extra glass of frappe against his. “And you’re teaching me the recipe by the way.”

“Not on your life.”

It took eight days before Stiles could once again visit The Family Bean. He had had a burst of inspiration following his last visit and had locked himself up in his apartment. His Dad John and his editor Danny were used to these binges, so they had taken turns visiting him to make sure he was alive and eating actual food rather than inhaling takeout, junk food, and soda.

He had sent off the first few chapters to Danny yesterday and had then slept for about eighteen hours, before Erica had barged in to make sure he hadn’t died. She had been pissed at him last week, annoyed that she hadn’t sampled Stiles’ berry-filled menu, but she’d gotten over it and had even brought groceries before dragging Stiles to The Family Bean for some fresh air and free lunch.

And if that wasn’t enough to perk Stiles up, she and Kira proceeded to tell him how well-received his menu was.

“The kids absolutely loved it, and Laura practically licked her parfait cup clean,” Kira said as they sat around the table for lunch. She had prepared honey sesame chicken, egg rolls, and sweet potato salad. She definitely had Stiles beat when it came to savory meals.

“Valerie was surprised that her dirty chai tasted great. She wasn’t biting people’s heads off more than usual,” Erica shared. She was running her fingers idly over her soulmate Mark, the three claw marks that spanned across her forearm.

Stiles felt pleased at the compliment, but he couldn’t help sending Kira an apologetic look. He didn’t want to usurp her clients and her kitchen.

Kira just laughed. “It’s fine. I know it’s due to your magic fingers and secret recipes. Just teach me how you do Valerie’s dirty chai and we’re good.”

“Sure thing, but it’s nothing special” Stiles said. “I did bring dessert, as thanks for letting me play around last time.”

Kira bounced on her seat. “Tomato pie?”

“With extra bacon and jalapeños, just how you like it.” Stiles grinned and showed her the pie, making Kira squeal.

“You gals eat up. I’ll mix us up some lattes, if you want anything,” he offered.

Stiles went to the kitchen to fix up Erica’s usual iced cinnamon honey latte and Kira’s vanilla almond. He was in the middle of finishing them up when he heard voices out at the main area. He recognized Boyd’s low voice and decided to make him a cup of blond roast with soy milk. He paused when he heard unfamiliar voices and took a peek out the service window. He instantly recognized the small group that had joined Kira and Erica.

There was Boyd, who immediately sat down beside Erica and kissed her cheek. His soulmate Mark was obvious, a rose on the back of his left hand. Stiles liked their marks, very beauty and the beast.

Having come in with Boyd was Derek, who looked just as handsome as he always did in a fetching dark blue suit. With him were his younger siblings, twins Cora and Cameron Hale, the artists of the family, who made music and art, played a bevy of instruments, and also drew and painted. Stiles was only two years older than the twins, but they had more talent in their pinkies than Stiles had in his whole body.

The twins’ Marks were one of the most popular, not just because the two were celebrities, but also because they were incredibly visible. Even from a distance, Stiles could see the compass between Cora’s collarbones and the lighthouse that popped up over Cameron’s collar at the left side of his neck.

Suddenly feeling shy, Stiles stayed in the kitchen and watched and listened.

“Nice spread, Kira. Is that for us?” Cameron asked.

“No, you Hales have your own food upstairs,” Kira said. “I heard Wild Flour Italian sent lunch over.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Jennifer Blake owns that joint. She’s been trying to get us to come over. No doubt she’ll just use it as some sort of advertisement. I’d rather take a bite of this.” She pointed at their table.

“That pie looks good,” Cameron said. “Can I have a bite?”

Stiles saw the gleam in Erica’s eye.

“Go on,” she said. “They’re good.”

Stiles watched as Erica and Kira offered the Hales a slice each. For some reason, he felt anxious to hear about how his food will be received. It had been nice to hear the rave reviews from Kira and Erica, but it was different seeing their reactions in person.

Cora let out yum-yum noises, which buoyed Stiles’ spirit.

“Okay, that’s pretty tasty. I love the caramelized bacon.”

“Wait, is this tomato in pie? Like a tomato pie?” Cameron asked, inspecting his plate. He took a large bite.

Kira bounced on her seat in excitement. “Yes, isn’t it good?”

“Who made this?” Derek asked. He didn’t look displeased, but he didn’t look happy either. He had a really good poker face. It might be good for business, but it was hard for Stiles to interpret. Stiles noted that he kept on eating the pie though.

“My Food Guy,” Erica said with a smug grin.

“Her Food Guy’s the one who made the berry-eautiful purple ticket that received quite the sensational reviews,” Kira added. She glanced at the service window and Stiles knew she saw him hiding there.

“The one who made my drink, too?” Derek asked.

Kira nodded. “The same one.”

“Spence went gaga for those waffles,” Cameron said. “And Mattie couldn’t believe someone got CC to eat fruit.”

A loud ring cut through their conversation and everyone started pulling out phones to check. It was Derek’s.

“Mom’s calling. Time to go,” he said, standing up.

In reply, Cameron started shoving the rest of the pie in his mouth and also popped in a couple of egg rolls.

“Where’s the Food Guy, though?” Cora asked, head turning to the kitchen. Stiles ducked down behind the counter. “If he makes stuff like this, I wanna meet him.”

“You can order a purple ticket if you want, but he’s not here all the time,” Erica said, and Stiles glared at her in his mind.

“He works part-time?” Derek asked.

“Not quite,” Kira said. “He’s—”

They were interrupted once more by a ringing phone, and this time Boyd spoke.

“Talia wants you all upstairs. Now.”

Stiles peeked out again. Cameron attempted to bring the entire pie tin, but settled for polishing his slice off. He then joined Cora in writing up a purple ticket order. After a moment, Derek put an order in too. The Hales left in a hurry and Stiles leaned right out of the service window just as Kira came bouncing towards it.

“There’s the man of the hour,” Boyd said, with a smirk.

Kira giggled. “Order up, Food Guy. You got a purple ticket.”

“I’m so proud.” Erica mockingly wiped a tear away. “Stiles, my Food Guy, charming the Hales off through the power of food.”

“Oh, fuck you all.” Stiles glared, ducking back into the kitchen.

At the last minute, he reached out and grabbed the purple ticket from Kira, ignoring the others’ laughter.

Over the next three weeks, Stiles prepared four more purple tickets. According to Kira, his drinks and desserts had become quite attractive to the Hales, both because of the taste and the mystery.

“At this point, they don’t even want me handling the tickets. They always ask if The Food Guy is around before they send their orders down,” Kira said. This time, she was the one helping Stiles prepare and pack.

The Wolf’s Den was going to be holding meetings nonstop, so Stiles had to prepare a variety of drinks and snacks. It would have been easy if they had simple requests, but the Hales were a mix of eclectic and frustrating.

“I’m glad you’re cool about this, but the Hales are bound to find out that the one making all their desserts isn’t even an employee,” Stiles said, as he added an extra shot of syrup in Laura’s honey and milk iced coffee. Just like her usual orders, she had asked for ‘any drink that’s sweet’ which was such a large ballpark that Stiles wanted to clock someone over the head, maybe her.

“I’m more surprised that you keep making these for free,” Kira said.

Stiles shrugged. “It’s a challenge, and I like challenges.”

“Really, just for the challenge?” Kira asked. “Stiles, Valerie fell in love with your version of her dirty chai. I did it the exact same way you did, but she insists that it tastes different. Same with Cameron’s favorite spiced coconut coffee. Same with all the desserts you made for the kids…”

Her face turned serious. “Don’t you think there’s more to this? Don’t you think it’s a ping—”

“It’s just for fun, Kira. It’s nothing,” Stiles said, heart rabbiting in his chest. He pushed it down firmly. “Plus, it’s surprisingly inspiring for my stories. Right now, I’m writing a new story for my spy series and I’m trying to solve this thing going on between James and Quentin.”

Kira’s face fell but she smiled, if a bit awkwardly. “Ah, well. Whatever you say, Food Guy. I’m just happy I get free labor out of it.”

“So you’re the Food Guy?”

The two of them jumped up in surprise and they turned around to see that someone had come in through the kitchen doors.

“Nathan, hello!” Kira greeted. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

Nathaniel Hale was the youngest of the brood at nineteen, and with his dark hair and piercing blue eyes, he was quite the heartthrob in an already beautiful family. If that wasn’t enough, he was an athlete and a rising star in soccer.

Stiles didn’t really care at the moment, too busy wondering if the kid had heard what Kira had been saying.

Nathan leaned against the counter. “Everyone was arguing over who was going to pick up the ticket this time. I walked out while Laura was arm wrestling with Cam.”

Kira laughed while Stiles looked away, suddenly awkward.

“Uh, that’s cool and all, but I’m not remotely interesting enough to warrant an arm wrestle.”

Nathan shrugged. “Your stuff tastes amazing.” He smiled at Kira. “No offense, Kira. You’re still queen. But you… you’re interesting.” He gave Stiles a look. “You know, I’ve been ordering the same caramel vanilla iced coffee from The Family Bean for years now. You made it once and now everything else tastes different.”

Stiles couldn’t help flinching. Oh yeah. Nathan had definitely heard Kira.

But Nathan turned to Kira, breaking the stare. “Anyway, is the ticket ready? Can I take it up?”

Kira smiled and handed over the bag. “You just want to lord your victory over the others.”

“Of course. That’s what having siblings is all about.” Nathan scoffed, but grinned. “Anyway, thanks.”

Kira smiled. “Enjoy your meal.”

Stiles watched Nathan leave and rubbed his left shoulder. He had a weird feeling about all this.

A single touch was all it took to find someone’s soulmate. However, people couldn’t just go around touching one another. Some did, but there were laws against touching people without their consent. So Nature, in all its wisdom, gave people the capability to locate their soulmates by following a trail.

The best trail was through family members. Take for example one other famous Hale love story, that of Valerie. Her husband, the Italian magnate Piero Barone, was from a family of vintners. During Talia and Desmond’s trip to Italy, they met Piero at a wine tasting event and immediately felt what Mark experts called a ‘ping,’ a connection between them that hinted at the identity of Piero’s soulmate. Piero followed the Hales to America, met the family—all of which gave off similar pings—was finally allowed a Touch Test with Valerie, and the rest was history.

There were other kinds of trails, like what happened between Boyd and Erica. They both attended the same university, though Boyd had graduated several years earlier. However, even without knowing Boyd, Erica inadvertently joined the same groups and organizations that he had, and even lived at the same apartment that he had rented when he had been a student. Then after Erica graduated, she decided to take a year off to travel. Months later, when Boyd went on sabbatical, he ended up following almost the exact same itinerary. They finally met by chance during an alumni event and got to talking, which revealed all of the things they had in common. Before the event was even halfway through, they had done a Touch Test and found their match.

Stiles’ favorite trail story was of his parents’. John and Claudia met when they were children. Having no siblings, they didn’t have the benefit of a family trail, and being young meant there weren’t a lot of experiences that could link them. However, they had always known there was something special about one another. They grew up together, grew apart, and met later on in life. They still didn’t have the same life experiences—she was a librarian, he was a deputy—but the moment they saw one another again, they just knew.

Sometimes people just knew.

“Well, well, well. I didn’t know we were serving twink in the menu.”

Ordinarily, that comment would have had Stiles lashing out with his sharp tongue, but upon looking up, he hesitated. First of all, the other person was clearly drunk and it was only, Stiles checked his watch, three-forty-seven in the afternoon. Second, the other person was none other than the infamous Peter Hale, Talia’s younger brother.

The eternal bachelor, he was called, well known for his many dalliances and relationships. He was also the Hale with the most well-known Mark, not because it was at a visible spot, but mostly because he tended to flaunt the large image of a bird in flight that was across his chest via his tendency of wearing unbuttoned shirts.

In Stiles’ opinion, Peter reminded him of one of his book characters—the rich and powerful Anthony, who, underneath all the bravado, was desperately looking for his soulmate, only to find it in the fair-haired, gentle-hearted Steven, who wouldn’t take his crap. He wondered who Peter’s soulmate was.

“Oh, for god’s sake. Uncle, come back here!”

Stiles looked up to see Derek jogging over to them, looking both pissed and worried at the man leaning against The Family Bean’s pristine counter.

Peter ignored him. “Oh, lay off, Derek. I want a drink, and this twink is going to make me one.”

Derek turned to Stiles. “Peter, do not call—” He paused, dark eyes widening.

Stiles felt his heart jerk in his chest and his left shoulder burn. He felt like he had been hit in the head, so did Derek going by his gaping.

Peter suddenly tilted sideways, interrupting their stare down. Neither Stiles nor Derek were able to catch the man before he ended up sprawled across the counter. The sight of him had Stiles dredging up some semblance of control. He sighed.

“You are very rude, and also very drunk, but because I feel sorry for you, Mr. Hale, I’ll make you a free drink.”

Derek let out a gurgle and then a cough, obviously holding back laughter. Peter propped himself up on wobbly elbows.

“You feel sorry for me? Don’t you know who I am, kid?”

Stiles was both annoyed by Peter and buoyed by Derek’s reaction. It was probably what sharpened his tongue.

“You’re Talia Hale’s younger brother, but between the supposed—ahh, what was it—Big Bad Wolf of Media and this so-called twink, I’m not the one nursing a hangover at this time of the afternoon.”

Stiles shook his head and walked off, ignoring Peter’s angry, garbled words and the sudden chuckle from Derek. The latter made Stiles’ shoulder ache.

Stiles ignored that and prepared a quick takeout bag. He could hear Peter and Derek arguing out on the main area. It was the work of minutes to prepare a quick smoothie and throw in some crackers and fruits. He walked back out and handed the bag to Derek, but then quickly tucked his hands to himself. The other man’s piercing stare was making him sweat.

Peter grabbed his drink and took a gulp of the smoothie, before asking, “What’s your name, kid?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. Not even a thank you. How rude.

“Not a kid, and there’s no need to know my name since you’re just going to forget it.”

Peter smirked lasciviously. “Oh, that mouth on you.”

“I’m also not into geriatrics,” Stiles was quick to bite back.

Peter’s jaw dropped. “Geria—”

Derek suddenly burst into laughter and the sound of it seemed to fill Stiles’ heart and mind, making his face flush and his body warm. Derek smiled at him and Stiles felt warmth bloom in his chest.

Stiles cleared his throat, trying to will the blush away. He rubbed his shoulder. “Well, anyway, I’m happy to help. I’ll tell Kira you guys dropped by. See you around.” He glanced at Peter. “Not you. Drop dead.” He stepped back.

“Wait!” Derek lurched forward, startling Stiles and also Peter, who, true to Stiles’ words, slid off the counter to the floor. They ignored him.

Derek leaned forward over the counter. “I’m sorry if I’m forward, but are you—”

Stiles shook his head vigorously. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

He ducked back into the kitchen, ignoring Derek’s calls and Peter’s drunken warbling. He leaned against the door and slid down until he could curl up into a ball. He placed a hand over his burning shoulder.

Sometimes people just knew.

Stiles was tempted to stay away from The Family Bean after that. He really wanted to. But it was hard to stay away.

Even harder to stay away from a ping.

Stiles wasn’t stupid enough to let that slip away.

Still, it was hard to face up to it and admit that he had a soulmate.

So for the next two weeks, Stiles stayed away from the front of house, always hiding in the safety of the kitchen. He kept on making purple tickets whenever they came, but he avoided coming out for any reason, especially after Derek started coming by nearly every day. Sometimes he even brought his work over just so that he could stay as long as possible.

It confused Kira and Erica, but they assumed Derek just liked the food. The other Hales also started coming by and many times, Stiles could hear them asking Derek why he was hanging around The Family Bean instead of working in his office. Always, Derek kept mum.

Because as it turned out, Derek hadn’t told anyone about the ping.

In fact, Stiles had a feeling that the only person in the Hale family who knew was Nathan. Maybe because he had already been suspicious of it. Out of all the Hales, he was the only one who didn’t ask Derek about why he kept hanging around the café.

The other one who knew was Boyd.

Derek had been called to a meeting one day, so Stiles had felt it safe to come out and work at one of the booths. He had already fallen so far behind on his writing commitments. After a few minutes, Boyd had dropped by and had joined him. Stiles knew he was typing gibberish on his laptop, but he kept on as an excuse not to look at Boyd, who was looking at him intently.

Finally, he spoke, “Looking back, I guess it wasn’t just your banana bread that won me over.”

Stiles jerked, sending a series of characters across the screen.

Boyd kept on. “I always had a good feeling about you from Erica’s stories, but when we met, that was definitely a ping.”

Stiles bit his lip. “Does Erica know?”

Boyd shook his head. “I love her, but Erica would have thrown a party if she knew.”

Stiles sighed, both in relief and in trepidation for the moment Erica find out.

Boyd studied him. “Derek’s a good guy, you know.”

“I know I got that impression from all the stories you and Erica had of him,” Stiles said. “I always thought it was surprising considering he could afford not to be a nice guy.”

Boyd studied him, making Stiles shift in his seat. “Is that the reason you won’t meet with him? Or do a Touch Test? Because he’s a Hale?”

Stiles almost protested, but he deflated. “…I don’t know.”

Boyd hummed under his breath. “Well, you’ve always played your cards close to the chest when it comes to soulmates, but I know you’ll figure it out.” He stood up. “But you better make it soon. Erica and the rest of the Hales are bound to figure it out.”

Stiles groaned and sank down on his seat.

“Noted.”

The day after that, a still-conflicted Stiles was once again at The Family Bean. Kira had gone up to the Wolf’s Den to deliver the latest purple ticket, so he had to stay and man the counter.

The door let out a little tinkle, and Stiles froze the moment he saw the woman entering the café.

He’d know Talia Hale anywhere.

Stiles almost panicked, but then he remembered that she didn’t know who he was. He took a deep breath.

“Um, good afternoon, Mrs. Hale. What can I get you?”

The woman smiled, quite warm and friendly despite her fierce reputation. “Just some tea, please. And are there any new desserts?”

It had been a moment of weakness, but Stiles had actually brought over some peanut butter stuffed cookies and added it to the purple ticket in the hopes that a certain Hale would like them. He still had a few cookies left, but he wasn’t sure if he should offer them to her.

“I smell cookies,” Talia said pointedly. “I’ll have some of those.”

Stiles gulped. “Ah, we have some peanut butter stuffed cookies. Let me get those for you.”

He swallowed his nerves and served the woman, who took a sip of tea and a bite of the cookie right there on the counter.

She smiled, studying the cookies. “Very tasty.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Stiles smiled politely. He turned away to leave and maybe gather his strength in the privacy of the kitchen.

“When we started hearing about The Food Guy, I admit I was quite intrigued. It’s very rare for someone to grab the attention of my entire family.”

Stiles paused and turned to her.

He should have known.

Stiles nodded stiffly. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Talia smiled, sharp and knowing. “And you, Food Guy.”

“Any reason for the visit?” Stiles asked, shifting on his feet.

“I wanted to meet you,” Talia said, taking another bite of her cookie.

Stiles frowned. “That’s all?”

“Were you expecting anything else?”

“Uh, well, I…”

Talia shrugged and sipped his tea. “I don’t blame you for any misgivings you might have should you prove to be soulmates with my son. I’m well aware of the reputation of my family. My late father, Everett, embodied the might of the Hale name better than anyone. You should have seen him back in the days.”

Stiles held up his hands. He couldn’t help the feeling that he had to explain.

“It’s not that there’s a problem with Derek or your family. Being a Hale isn’t the problem… not entirely…” he hesitated, but then plunged on, urged by the ping he could feel inside him and the desire to make someone understand. “My mom passed away when I was seven. She was soulmates with my father. He was—I was—we were never the same after.”

A heavy silence fell, and Stiles was both nervous and intrigued. Talia’s face changed. Something in her eyes darkened and she pursed her lips.

“Forgive my sudden melancholy, but I was just reminded of something.” She sipped her tea. “I was reminded of my youth. My father, Peter, and I had never been the same after mother walked away.”

“Walked away?” Stiles was taken aback. It was rare to hear any mention of Talia’s mother, but everyone had chalked it up to grief at her passing. “But you all said she died—”

Talia interrupted him delicately. “People think of Marks as the be all and end all where the only answer is yes. But even soulmates are a choice…”

“Desmond grew up without a penny to his name, so he rejected me as he could only see himself as an embarrassment to the Hale family. My opinionated father had, unfortunately, been a contributing factor to that line of thinking. I grew up with a rather jaded view of Marks and pings, and I had seen his rejection as a challenge and not a privilege. Desmond and I, our story had been tempestuous, quite unlike the romanticizing people had done.”

She finished the last of her tea. “If I may be allowed to request one thing, all I ask is that you make a choice so that Derek can do the same. No one in this family will certainly blame you for it.”

Talia pushed her empty cup and plate towards Stiles, and smiled. “Have a good day, Food Guy.”

Stiles watched Talia walk away.

He had some thinking to do.

Stiles took a deep breath and tried not to crush the boxes in his hands. He was nervous and his left shoulder was throbbing.

“Ready?” Kira asked him. She was carrying the other delivery boxes.

“As I’ll ever be,” Stiles replied.

Kira smiled, both encouraging and proud, and nodded to the guard on duty. The man held open the double doors for them, and Stiles was instantly met with a wall of sound.

“Purple ticket delivery,” Kira called out, leading Stiles inside.

The office was spacious, as it should be if it was going to accommodate all of the Hales, and all of them were there. There was a long table at one end where Talia, Matthew, and Boyd were talking and laughing. Desmond was on one couch, talking to Piero and Erica. Laura and Cora were seated on armchairs and were arguing loudly about something. Peter was egging them on. CC and Spencer, were seated in front of a television at a kids’ play area set up in the corner. Cameron was with them, all of them singing along to whatever cartoon was playing. Derek, Valerie, and Nathan were huddled around a table, looking at blueprints.

“Oh, yes! The food’s here!” Cameron cheered, which sent the children shouting as well.

Kira navigated the area like a champ, while Stiles slowly shuffled after. “You guys ordered a lot. I had to ask for help. This is Stiles.”

Stiles didn’t miss the way Derek’s head suddenly jolted in his direction, nor Talia’s proud smile, nor Erica’s sudden screech of “Stiles!” which had everyone else turning their way. Stiles winced. He was going to get his ass kicked later for not telling Erica about this.

“Well, well…” Peter grinned. “Hello there, twink.”

Stiles shuddered. “Still not into creepy old geezers.”

“Oh, wait, wait! Is he the guy who called you a geriatric?” Laura asked, before shrieking in laughter.

“And the one who said Peter should drop dead,” Cora added, cackling.

Laughter rang around over Peter’s protests, and it made Stiles’ heart stutter. He felt warm all over, like the pings going off in his head were doubly delighted at the Hales. He glanced at Derek, who was smiling warmly.

Stiles winced when he caught Erica’s gaze though. She looked between him and Derek and her eyes widened. But Boyd was suddenly there, hand over her mouth and whispering to her.

Stiles helped Kira take out all of the food and the ravenous Hales were quickly upon them.

“Food Guy’s stuff tastes awesome,” Nathan said, licking his cupcake’s icing. He waggled knowing eyebrows at Stiles, who bit back a grin. Cheeky kid.

“Please pass our compliments to the chef, Kira,” Desmond said, reaching for his drink.

Kira giggled. “You can thank him yourself.” She waved at Stiles with a flourish.

Stiles felt a little like a deer in headlights when all their gazes alighted on him.

“You’re Food Guy?” and other iterations of the exclamation rang around the room.

Stiles flushed. “I’m glad to hear you all like what I’ve been making.”

“Oh, wow! How wonderful!” Piero piped up. “I haven’t felt a ping in such a long time. How nostalgic, don’t you think, dear?” He turned to Valerie.

“That’s a ping?” Matthew asked, confused, before his face cleared and he rubbed his chest. “Oh, hell, this is a ping.”

“Is that the tingly feeling here, Uncle Mattie?” Spencer asked, pointing at his tummy.

Erica finally managed to get out from under Boyd. “Stiles, did you ping with Derek? Is that why you’ve both been hanging around The Family Bean? You’ve both been pining over each other!”

Stiles groaned, while gasps and shouts suddenly rang around the room.

Kira sighed. “Way to ruin it, Erica.”

“You mean I was pinged through a tomato pie?” Cameron was asking, wide-eyed.

Cora started laughing. “Oh my god! Uncle Peter flirted with Derek’s soulmate!”

“That’s Uncle Derek’s soulmate?” CC asked.

“Yes, he is.” Nathan looked like he was immensely enjoying all this, and Stiles was starting to realize that he was a little shit.

Derek stepped towards Stiles. His face was a little red, but he was smiling and Stiles thought he was the handsomest man he had ever seen.

“My family’s a mess. Please ignore them,” Derek said, ignoring the protests from his siblings.

Stiles chuckled. “At least they keep things interesting. It’s just me, my Dad, and her.” He jerked a thumb at Erica.

“Oh, fu—dge you!” Erica said, glancing at the kids. She turned to Boyd. “And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

Boyd rolled his eyes. “I was giving him space to process things.”

Stiles ignored them and turned to Derek. He only had one chance to do this.

“Ah, sorry, it took a while. I was figuring stuff out, but I thought we should get to know one another first.”

“Of course,” Derek said immediately. He reached out a hand. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Stiles.”

Stiles glanced at Talia, who was whispering to her husband. She winked at Stiles.

“Soulmates are a choice.”

Stiles smiled at Derek. He could feel his Mark tingling in anticipation.

“Me too, Derek.”

He reached out and took his hand.

#kevaaronday #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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