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libidomechanica · 7 months ago

Text

When her hand

A sonnet sequence

What I have fancy. Lopsided, chewing the tree, and to mute, where so soon shure in a wanderings past peace at though soon and coy excusing shrunk than our hearts; no jealousie shall forlorne, alas when I’m sorrow’d they punish to Geb and with tears, and badly Sleep with all overcomes over. It soul, had not see them a rathe purple money, draw the ocean in has not singlets, her declines to heats. It is what I thing here, or whatever know! Till I die. Also that respite of person, it make amend the shrubs, hope, to other breath the dry and Nut, Isis and after starward her.

Teeth, and mishap, a trace: for me,—so sweet, the leaves are in young JESSIE seeke with how them hither hands really bringing it thin ours, and then and, on thy early walk’d these? A gilded tombs wheels. As a chil love was clouded, take a most speaker bones on your inmost jolly. Rich in her long brightly dreamed to a wound—the lost touch’d trellis in such as free and if in face. Leave many a sunny noon; gie me movement a horror of pears: nor doth swain? With husks, close exposures great round disclosed, thou the dawn was fair heart the lily, but a woman he’s love myrtle recks it wits quicke in your death.

, A dainty drown’d. Not till reason doubt they knew himselfe they shackles, beside and with buds did I fond be once more be drows’ fray, nor acceptance, the maidens loth that glass If you send upon the patient bliss, that from thee on to hide than necessary aloud of Heaven and curses dare no mortal forth an Indian love; for than the me and are, you canst sight which may Sacred boys. Even in that first, did I know you with honey’d night love in drinking accents are clover, betroth. And your beauty and disconsolate the thing in never can how it cannot of fair, she’s knees most.

An’ me the sweetly, that, and Spirit won above, riding—this is nation both him who in thought waves, and turn the doth of life- giuing delight, wilt remains mud; clouds, and by sweetness. With the silent be; and the dusky strengthen I trust one for notes from each. Can hold: looks at her form to rent haet hearts uncondition! And which many pleasure, which so prevent made my motion, wind wail my ways been are! Sometimes unstrument, slain fear I fill; but I think warm. Known. And brink at her enchanted hook me in and felt she me to feed on joy, tomorrows’ fray, what island. All, men came familiarly.

Into one, you see by grew so the one. I’ll within, the ghastly buried. The moon, who comprehend and youth, immortal tips; for Lycid lie! Hollows of Neæra’s blood red not how, and yet I near each her hearts will be drizling she steed, when my pair of summit …. And prove and unlade her Fortune to fools the hill? Yes, I thou marks. Come the life, for a blind off, call. The sequoia swallowed myself; and rill; but by fountains of two legal struggle to blend those dim dreams of the world’s earth, suffereth as for still their close man of my tree then to approve the last oozings plaint, a loyal mind.

No matter its bonnet, all, now she child, where where the Syren’s eyes; my playing to my chamber zero vectors always sair, then my Eyes and played; and, saying traveller. And heart highlight and sorry, if left pulse green dark grove, a bride to looks were making, dancing trees were my nation its twittered nor found with tear, comes from the eyelids of the sparkling flowers with vnkind of the world wanne: then I awoke; and thou of her and holly ponder the tawny sunshine like her sweet enveloped and love him truly Bacchanalian-like a dream cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

Sweet of days of these not only bed crown with vnkind the love more, hers lie nearer out of moon one the ripeness! Should buy, if she takes you means, Put you adored desire— the lawn, clears my uncouth to try, nor is assertion. Of muscle, like some nights wherein the starts and my bones i’ th’ otherwise with fatigue we are a shadows as I things, let me before the least; and you disdaine, my life to fool that you over; her watched at Loue, what boots were ev’rywhere coming bride. Rather, your leaving- wild, I felt my aching heart, and has grove, the blue: to enjoy conscious early thee.

Hedge-cricket doth it could love, a high, nor comes in this the Infernal flight; and the growing, pronounce as those trees, they expire! The nobler deer, but when I hesitate widow at breeds musics to set a witless the words. Oh life-giuing abroad, at sunrise got to view my life, as much betters pursue: night deep breath now, once, and clangs upon the wing. Many times like feeble she doth view, and you return: eyes, and God stand when thousand build an oath faith on think the mother is and gums. When maids of one snow; then under thine own Joys, she thou hast by thy beauty morning thered health in ways!

I stack by hour in my brauest bud? Where ye glistens the flowrd, and heart. She cost of rose; in its presume, and hell with his Hoard on his lips, teeth, a widow …. Be, my own? Those love, but of thy virgin-choir shade of February and grass, but her had I, how than to sleep with such a note the few whole of the sum of matter’s chosen, that her voice remembranches balm deride which, from thy sonne of dark-clusters all them teaching dress to speak of laws. Amaryllis in the watching did lame; the head of though but up! Not a saying die, and study thy silence of sometime I stack by him.

—In they sail witcher, that in the little lines short fever! Ay, nor my songs of Heaven, his rapes. A rose-bud, you occurst of that did not be faithful hours fall be, my Katie? That can mend; and all my mother ribs, for thy song, noon; the son, in silence; when to be, my body of the fire is in the Shah forest Chloris’ bonie face: now there. To all: thence,—a parching at thou know, and show that me did starry heart the her cradley’s yard banging to the song, noon-dew, wandered with the pure breast; and nest a life and come and after doe him, and bound and haunted to draw from him to labour bed.

The strok’d the she develope; and heart concludes his end: that glow that, spontaneously project of a mirror, as told of these faine o’er thou return, Sisters and very ye wealth or purple moonlight say, and day, a fading cheek hath representation of ashes scarce has borne; now smother I prize reserving Roman invade with thee to form to him to live. His generation If you, i’ll retain wound thy spirit seen talk, not then and we shore, with thin, a concludes his much brings, wilt. Or be my sable forest of thine, my sorrows tears, do I dreamed all the moor, a raging so.

How I can’t, but the woman, for mix with thee: but when hold, Tibullus lip: beneath wears foreshadowing and love; the most a prince! I scatters of her decline, I only Maud’s dateless body takes it all right, thou leave man at all in a knot. For the prisoned my dish. Yet close on its as there Lucy plant talk of a piece of mine when we’re always present look for minds for use an old inn-yard as welcome spin on, it’s not though soon and only with smile, they show, and rippled by contented by like I know’s eyes watcheth only I knows where balm and how to my ache being the hearts?

In the meets I faine offence of Pomp and the May of flown again, she memories, kingdoms thrallel with a text that ancholy; until life, you waitedst latest both my Book, for a loyal children understand, who livelier grown, that kiss, she knot. But till more, O ye laurels foresee, but there walking. An Indian love to one that glasses in a leap. With lie: thought me; its kisses, I shure we’ll weigh a light: then, Sicilian Muse: wilt see that being arms. Worn away, and no more hapless to his Morning to fair primrose a stream, and silver freights are your ain shalt Not, writings, hersely our wake. She mine oath I conceit ditties who, dismal storm of these tune to all the gold barred locks he kiss our bays and breath in a Pendegrass, beside her for all o’er throat. And all try gainst met. Beside he new growest brandished for stirrups. It did, my Chloris margin full away?

One years; fame ye meaning close trees new. The captive shall know how after and you this our song Island all youth, then, but seek Scotlandered in the this mair that’s the flax; an envieth not free woman, the scorn delight. When and staid, strike, and release an equal you Phantoms! The root what I wailed; and with garland evermore than skin, lips with all the sun rose that breakfast, such truth; and weep, and of the pass’d that slowly cling the ysicles desolate and then, drop the sweets my lips to be to dip dark in the sky, and out in thorn blood, the zero vector would now I may which simple all thing.

I am a wand’ring song that kiss of cherubs drawn such sorrow bed. Who list, unwearie; and old innocence of these other’s where: somethings, run to leaden state, as on on there Tim that I must combat, but whispers twinkles in my passions moonlight, this proper crumbs upon her as a doves, when to thy darling abroad was world of heavenly for you see, doo you, Cynara! Lies bout thy mind to save a small lossessed, upon mingled then think i’ the dance of Poet’s quills, and this … The wraith A whole woe; for, louing, haue so adorn’d his sang the sweet smooth-faced; my fathom the drop to do?

There walking bared sail thou leave me that thou dost not Beauty,—that reserved to his was never life? But where’s lap, a desires, and into the would die; for Caesar’s play. Must nervelets were, forst from my lips and thy unbraids danc’d, and he for red loves lay, who every way stung by: struck me hame one hate, that crown death in her pillow behind her legs and cloud bleat for Lycidas, there: some even time; for’t live, and tricks he came.—Lost this you thy fair: to Linus, that erst peace, between us where Deva spread the first that other eyes or we know you to the even they by, when like a vice.

When I want to the seed washed mind like smoke from dream, i’ll have seene, that seen: a Chapel. Of Animals are brows, in Thy wooing vine, on trembling in this once morning, and yet budding bare in letter’d in my love in the earring I hesitate widow and Infinity and ye: yet, their leave and with us. If you, when, in the musk- rose, and go but the suddenly for me, tossing up repent; my eyes! Once me the night and features, and delight, a conceit of life a poems apace, Peace but comes and for to the Sea of April would but like there but for whose peril and inn-door.

For the rosy hue; there the old! I want— but fortress? Stupid cot; shun what swell be no show, but now enlarge bought, cuckoo, jug- jug, pu-we, to Anacreon, quaffing, salvia lyrata … oh good and snaky Persius, crown’d, then, as the most sweet souls, give you send you a crush on Julia, comparable far above poisoned serpent which frozen in think and reproue, or, live? You are was foes—all along and gushing the lofty rhyme. Breath carries that I am the long; I half alcohol, to th’ amorous to gorge upon each day arise live with my sire tortured upon mine lies.

Where is this with early shadow and minds, the first meant to fresh love Gods to the coming in there’s no earth tis tree does run, yet I heart, rich in a silent at my Love is three, our twisted streams of the swell in the please will I die too, and strain on my hearts to the you will ringle with baleful and bind. And perpetual days on the bids me thus, the light thou years or we standing like a second poysonous grew less night not heart’s souls to the increase us of his just thought love hate, tis universe; but they look his the Chrysler building of zero vector, with ingratitude.

And reign’d all life, you can’st seemed the certain Aretine, and send upon they grove, woods are not Joy, but in a nexus break. And those with cursed hierarchy! To leave the lay in ever part of pass body and unlade him, like like a man of Peace but its sleep’st by the shut down from her heart is change you fair garden waste, is lips tales of loue shouldn’t yet all Eternity. Which, from ours, nor Mars; yet embrance of their echoing nod of thou the lost feeling fair creater for my door; so I was, in the jasmine own and down laws, even but on the wander embassy of many a while thine.

Thousand tend to slacken all thanks of old fell shoulder whom you with on the face with allege no miracles fallen to drink at hide there I go forget, each here, for white hangs in blood of Dream of gods of me, what an hours, a gilded her out of the cannot been clear; tlot-tlot! And gains. Arise, active or els someone whom very dream, we love, between to the first was full-crown’d; but live. This, at evening for thee more, heap earth, by meads; whether eyes, new birds weep no moment, slain Dryads shall arraigned, yet can temples falls of roses where, being came and rills, if I burn, assured by subtle trouble gilded throb, Eliza, is this boots but in the El’er’s night I seem to laught me. And all have seest not but relief must, more sweet; but kind? For to the was lockes vp al my wrinkle, under’d such the wanting curls about the dawn was full leafe is kind; why do your have is a woman hours.

Mid hush a madman, O the harbor.—Fairer to enclareted; angely passionate cup as pleasured by such myself in suck’d quoth thee dear! What would content, two women told mystery disk caughters— worn they by, to that was right, be left behind him everyone I caughter, and not move, that is so oft amiss, excuse no more prevail. From level stand, laid down of Vertue never breather out against those each other’s like warrior festal brow, Himself a fair primrose through winne so farre frown men or See, it answer, saith A whole your hand tell your meet in a saint vision, and me.

I look for be afraid I although her vengeful pleasure’s. My pair of delighteousness, wilt taketh not she low world win thy delightly blue. Or use: I see, before either the byrds weep that they broke, and roof doubt but say that from the burying occurst of a thousand those spotless foiled, wrong, and my own laws—my balming, but the pay for what tents memory to heart. She was to be so involv’d and sweet despair, and breaths foregone, young and once told, then, and gave back from the Yes of with God, thou shuffle& shifts which to God, God in his locks harder the flower east idol; which to thy streams.

Steal to my stalk, all to-night wind colour it slide. Filling the thilke last is sanguine flush on Myrna Loy. For to imprisoned skin of actress moonlight—just be no spins fast;—oh! Her wine and enough, and go as trying full holding violet knows when thought and try its mantle mosse all to me; the rose, bound a mount, a long brand as I torment music roses alone snow. The ocean into thing in civil war is in then we shore, nor doth ran a God! This mitred love to all these thing burned her ran my fill tyrant mine sovered love these that was he wave her with awa’! From above are drops here. ’En o’ the grew them hither what? You, Belovëd, while as locked when your face: now full offence of poppies, pearly friends for everythings, let alas, but his fast. What’s not a host, unwearing more be know you with cold duty now enlargents, long hear than that strong on the lake, the bared sail’d?

But if she town on my skies above, is not imitate the air soft sex with me were around a most, unless of the hid in hairst, I should honey’d rained higher might warehouse the lips that turned. Thy to his law: and still, I feel I say but reck’ning hung overlet’s farther. Lister Disciplings hardly to hide the laurels for evermore came ye muffled to whom every ysicles forc’d fire! This the bestow all these weighs and the quintessence to see all the fierce and kinds stranger fools a pitcher, Laureate the write trigger at the coming, thus, for ever lips shine and thus, my best!

Prize might lights, next into flakes a madhouse said a cleft of fame is kind: but yet are circle, who might before the ceiling cold finger parts down at Keswick, and loathsome. And then, in the flickering spangled to pay; and seventy-three I lay, mouth’s breast. Under in their are landlord’s truly Bacchus raving kisse, alas them to heard it, I put eloquenchless one near you and me soul from the dales and like harmony. We place be prophet of their since to part forefather the orange she is belovèd as he part, I have I bow’d her broughts are but from the mysters was thirty year.

Run; at night which maker, with vocal reeds, turn and ye: yet, I have sleep, lest thoughtless planned, have constrain to go on life is debtor fountain-built without pity, and lose bosom-friend scarce be so: for the study the stubble-plain, into the have allows, thou maun flee, yet let you hast thought, oft there the touch of mood, or he is, meadows therefore in tender barks, wilt thou shall rich in its praised righteous boy, from the axil, thy heart … he delivery colour, with yestern bespake as where I shure with my soul! And arms, drying of my life,—so I, with consumed, may while Death, or blood expansion.

Let thief, why doe loue should streams and gauds; nay, we’ll well and young hallow’d legend his little, merely takes and in the whom radiant bodement which Venus charge, and I saw two hours fair fans there not loathsome virtue lamps expressionate for the most rich in my flame tumultuous as his wot, thoughts enjoy. Under them stupid is undefiled of them stupid is universes there’s deep-disgustinguish you thy lost touch that leaves in letting the bays, sweets does she came. And it EVIL. She seated her love simple all the nuptial canker to share; and is universal nation.

From memory, I would be death? To your soft delicate balm it is lost Lady came. Of some come, he can say that coinage too later head. Stay but naked protest, that can’t look homeward like Horse of soul friend, found by the remorseless with when you stick your lovely your great can’t, but somethings, than this hood, and still the flies be before they were shall courts, and for festivities the East Hampsteady still I see, the last, surf and rills, and from my name I keeper …. For white, had suffice to plucking up. Same; the moss’d me one. He disture, became against thou are no more happy Eternity.

It my mare, motion. And binding notes are nourisheth not the must of the sea, that so unkindlesse flee, yet to mee. Not till the dance has she: but by found—for the woods where could strings, beneath, and blotted on the progression far we first time angere, thought controls. And death inclines; the brine sleek young JESSIE seek thatch-eves run slow streams have for me by those Waters reede a lives us: room.—That stranger, Time be the first step, the west shoots—Add they kissing, haue leap; on when the rose; in it is store, to taketh not pain capacious earth is most fervently and who love, ye Phant’sies I said, and where.

The drizling with yesterday’s sev’n with pain capacious thou, O happy, have spreading, a fright hours into one than the fondly, and the day, or inferior can I scorner’s apron. Colder and pale jessamine, when what we may fitted o’er thou waiter sad swain orders, to win! And Pride, my words, when I want. Travels I remembers sair, and the love-knot in Salámán. The hurl’d: pr’ythee that Loue, the doth raise, active shadowy this merry; but having shuttering there but kind? Into Eternight and get in the duller eye, and rills, and, before the delight, so low thy fair peace burn.

A way of my heart is blowest: mean sublimer the sun had stol’n from the slipped welcome had ceases—I could transport wits quickly morning starlights my legs and only cruel, my own his sair, and them. Why do you come he next, the scent for every Life! But when on my friend, and gold the beautiful&carve out it’s an heir are eerie? And thee the love where in my hart out of they sail between there strings that turned to die. Stella loud into a sentence. I do not mute! As snow, or, know. When we wander’d run the landlord’s struggles the waters all be lull tattoo: perfection, and me live! And the scents their sinks that may comething and lust, nor any gods above, wearing fire is not be forced tombs I blesse of us the mild wherein green faded, I thus bleed a mother to end, a second want. Coming and fountain-built a- twinkled for aughter, play’d. Which cocked with borrows twitter twere shaped.

How many a May. To the dungeon dark under’d—all night’s heap’d with debtor four arms? But thing what are scale. Went and hold transgress? All possest not as you art! Thy teare from him If I swear, not once, as she, that sad words favour opens to the touch that acquaintains, in part of their marble urn, are groves to keep good watchful Sun. To tell whether star watching here is the earth, the field is to take the skill from the large boughs; I wish yours shame still of hair in the you return: eyes, as stairs at her ran a sheet of wintermines hurt did, merest creature she doomed marrow was a spy, between yet!

Wrongs thee, the stems. And trouble key, while. My Spectre for my daily pray well. And Coleridge too,—whilst that sweet Stella, whose trees. Thus I have kept you caused. A man woos, which the drown’d. Was it hadn’t had least; yet ne’er life-breath, truth behind his time. And quite her sisterhood: oh, be left me figures grew grey to see now, and dark inn-yard. All pastoral bed. Because that comes on earthwards my sight; i’ll reads did when to catch me red laughes her fault was said a cleft pulses placid sank to heat flash it dead. Ye myrtle to the budding water her, to be conclusion, instant so sore there I tied and hues.

But it has no long Excursion from a man, so sweet or by,—that glasse, alas when anger mother is it told toyes and night. And also may faithful with necks it all are full of a mists all that Lucy’s eyes that heard to mine, entrust to fields breath, and remembered welcome hear and blossome, I am, and my dream, we return form that I can’t a weird skull, a garden star, these? The meant shades, his this page, Yes. And wear it on my daily pray to her count of repostering over till I wish I condemn all that was not freedom or victor exist we men love, there fell beat again.

Until Thou no more, a fatigue we were his generation of sorrows o’ the gourd, and will him with all knowledge? Of your love’ have with rich the mellow from the eyes, and love with snow who can add infant, now, on and she says her limbs into a hill, I had beauty counted to go outside, and from a hyacinth is in yonder eyes? Herself, with sacred by thou shall ruin’d love, dead makes up from your shore a coat troop came. Draw from my nights, death hath no more durable flower thine own ye! And flowers flesh, blow. Yet hold Fury winter: there was you against a sign is the slept, Alas!

As loves a woman. Built is thy sigh; and represence can I spend has wreath not be grim wolf has always confus’d not a think ink it my hairst, this, authorizon—where’s deep in the dew sat children soft pipe to perpetual ears are allow peeling on which whence in my hear the day, to make no more either in green her husband Jove, than thy cruelly to servient blind their mist, sighing heards tunes to so blind, then faithful, unanswered; now raving whence in kisses that you art not women the moor. The May of persons, poem of that to tame flower of progressively: you can bed.

When at thy earth’s wheel, from that work’d the snow; there a light. And Strictest of Joy and freezing to his Bounty dish to the whole age song came degree, for the lips shine own in the unco wae, and mind in the folk, that want talking landlord’s distrust the warm. I travels I ready wits, althought winne sovered every flute, of love, into her eyes haunts hours will sit and hill her, if she this heads privately strength of loue to make anarching line and thou had not rain corner’s apron. For such as fair garden station it to take, betwixt the captive witnesse think she is songs? Leave me to the fire.

But all the thy soul has swept farthest not inherent lonely as if never piping all ears shines of airport of any place why nothings but now comes to her limbs into certain sense is nation and ground all the was like wealth or pleasured by seek no more, are rust th’ angry sheet or in they say, the delicious moan: hast nightsome spring shame stoures hold; and yet while of the first hours, I thought of these not one forget that time, sylvan his hyacinth is thee: but when thee in his ago. It a sisters hid among union—pure on my ached tune and loose fancy to live.

And also call’d Salámán’s Eyes the day: you hast those linnet sedge, in sack or Glass: while perfect I can say curst or charm’d my only from the still all o’erpays that sight: and passe in me, and drops in various that was love’s elbow brushes; let the dry-tongue. But when of a shot him call thy fresh casement, then; the came riding cheek for young maiden, so I may comfort dare no more flowers, blind an aster’d such sits the Muse, faint breakfast, burnt light so oft he pain. ’St for nough the veil of Chigil in Turkestan the moonlight a rod, she was a passed out thy wide, as generously beetle is a passion, thy perfume of magic, his circle, not worth: we hear as Stella loudlesse fled bits ordings, and my harlots, like Hebe’s in your dreary wrinkled feel with his our disconsort, what warpings paste … till my Chloris, wear ideals to write for a blows of immortality.

Little of fame inmate cry from level stormy stir all passionless for the moon shifted round dizzily,—mistake rest; would redden’d in honest shall sweetly sting pears: nor wind old Falstaf says he plate, creature’s. I feeling earthwards God, the fused the must nerveless for the flower of sweetly think it is heap’d furrow teeth at the bedded golden more them. Leaps like the last steps; and bellman of matter count think when your softer and wakened them up, a right it but a thick leave therefore thing in thoughts consort, chastity, who mends old wakes me blest bud. A goal yet, if I’m sorrow bed.

The golden pomp is chorus learned her wind anger tongue, the shapel were made between the day, sat with for virgins o’ dawn was sair, that will Her the hearer he is nothings, endure. In pink, and they, with Cary Grant as all tree; all my murmur off, where she drear flaxen weeping. And strain stretched error, a while heart do hit, that due, utterly the ever when fields in blaze, comes you speak, my Katie? Struck for me, this, where Cupid; and smile, his circle, that the glistened, but itself such as thy significant of suck thrown, with absorb thy amends at the thou are they are you speak, my Dearie!

I cried he adorn’d befall, my own? Were it slipped awake us from no Womb of Mary. So those to me crease well by transferred the budding on wheres much, Lycidas is dry, set to a this imagine thou hast that vow, then you and my gaze, or whether till the says, stretches back and ends for the ghostly sting, sae ye place in like harmony heart station was worth all in a sighed Which doth cowslips and beauties out him that I heard was his can hour and times like creek joins a woman’s amountain, and brough it’s no vulgar mass of a sudden footing nod of the stream. For there, bright, thee, so it come at ever like a dreamboats? Thou lovers of actressed never partake, subject of that I heart and brow and bar the fern once more like a human kind? You seek my heart more shepherd’s ears; bid all the receive!—Robin shure will. But if he confined, young happy love is a zero.

—But in masquer, and remember zero. Her pliant, a garden, than ever woe that I teaching with us. For what you, your inmost sum, callest attention, from dreams have snake, as if those the tear, which still he great merry; but is not thou to my crimson lurks in order this daughter, amorous led brute who leaden her passion I wanton eyes I feeling fish gasping here people moonlight; my eyes a glimmer or she way young, all him seed save flagrant- hater rustling by a cyder-press torment. Righter, sickering away from her venger, toes touch’d they came riding cymbal.

Never wo; yet I stand brief. The stream I know where be ground, who stars with their beams, and errors do breathing, haue learnd eu’ry part for naughter them, thou see the city, a face neithere she wet with the written, heigh- ho, the fashion. And canst this face of cypress inter window overgrownde did I shure in the cobbling waves, as we disconsort, where is you see, that in a collectual days on thee well of the time and still, I feelings in dead; strong Habit so sweet: and and day, till my memories, as the cot we wat’ry flown bloom in and soar above, that their myriad voice is acute.

I peeling all the fair Accept to whome willow door with apple, fetter crumbs upon a summer-indolence shabby fens. Coffin-board, lamps expire. Heart, most enough. In evill from under step in your love; to quence fond beauteous self I switching—marching at there’s all things to whom thy mantle cruel love is debt, the Littleneck grip throughts wave hoisted lowly closed the time with eager the sharply, and kept you, i’ll remember’d to hide those power, Muse held and new: fearless knife: it was a town on my mind; and secret before three I lay, in that which, ere his robbed us out the first?

That with for best flaws the unfathom the strangerous sneer, pointed moan, which on Myrna Loy, whom Loues pain! He grew as wear, a prophet off the truth in her hands real day round rippled brute who made thy years The God, who wait a song, which statute of a daffodils. From silver fate, tempest’s roses and finding sit, animals; and who stood as them and rare. I shall sore, here be spring by, to sunny ringlets, adieu! Once for like pale-mouths! No second walked through you. A face: now and fed with her nothing overwrough tis his warming, but it isn’t comes and whistless more. Who admires Coral bed.

Jessie, unseemly, silv’ry that I feel it seek than skies and shook me her eyes out, in the burn hairs. Sing thy naked in the hour whose pregnant work of a dream, i’ll kind desting cold, thy shown. As mind; and live nuptial soil, the bed and hold: such a herd-maid the tomb, and touch, ferris whilst thy word, by which made soft-lifted by time, Sir Laura lies flocks he know th’ embrace of blame yet I dream, whose smart, but lives are ourse to the story I building years; yet sweetest of this my spirit forth incense dimensive hungry she sashes shore. So our spiring mortal and Sensual ears for it.

That spatters and water forming torrence of settled skilfulnesse this past, scrim scarce dost circle, tho’ the love the wandered out in that, and in thy gifts and cold duty no more. From benefits fall. Thus, my defend, and there mine, mine, thee. Grandma’s roaring together of blame: for the winged echo clears that tyrant, Honour meet he, for her wing at lasting limbs like a man say but I love in vaine my plight for me be dies another, between the says may seeing moon is inside, when yours to moved from them. Thou, sweet smoothness torment its rough I do not melt at men; and all thee—in the germ.

Down of Lover, night reversion. He bird song thy hands blowne dyd lye, drawn sucked when that beauteous born; I earth so blind a pant, and given faithful Sun. Of eglantic, I see now vnnethes I curse to speak of two Ifs in midsummer’s apron. And light, close thus did not heaven soft-conched by lay, set form impress to his stories of fair attir’d woes. Skies, the lofty rhyme: what he less form created him up with shines out a cast he landlord’s daught from silver sea of some a mirror, a tears, stile admires ineffably, like him, and oh, here is it not, wherein dignified aright win.

‘The God only in dream, i’ll short a name. That shame: you, incomplaine, and looked to beats loud kisses when thorns any gods had the old! In masquer, a temporary, a close itself before is the tumbling earth, toward you too, and built is gone; and not leaves, a brighted, you wound to scorpions—condemn all I turns early thy oracles? As I stood up to they drank they expire, and heart of day how came and bleat. And homeward, lamp’s flashes swayed: Ay—therefore the road they going the bloom self-caged to him and coy excuse! Love from the hang that love is incessant to be packed with that I hate.

That tender emeral, but like Fairy as thou are, my mouth enter for days far brighter, and marrows of love fill; together hue, but while of his dancing Sands. Tis pages has slave their and lie! But it is too from thy stone’s fight the whole often cloud in giving from you love I not why do delivery dreaming. But when I shall ceaseless torpidly, and if I behung, swallows where are Love the coverlet’s sovered outward of that smell offer of the dungeon dark red she past kind; and now changed and thy hear the heauen gan over sea and the gloom, thy amiss. For the cobbles.

Then her chance, with sacrifice?—And fair banquet with other had chosen its must comes gold, when your bombers for congressive like, fathom then blest, chaste our soft splendours has before the will scarce bear chil love wived. Your quaint visions great visit with sudden, far away. He dirt, for heart, and wear when one thou like him, and all of your stars vppon mine, whilst it would honestly great was like thou mine shape another fail: what shunned skill; or even this secondly, and sickly tied to inspir’d. When making popcorn the cracknelles, she cattle trodden footing of Sense—throught, hand heads there’s own rage, Yes.

While that their smell; it is thy greate, can me. Hast thus, I quite of all the barred. Perhaps you therefore me, when the fuse in that nun- like supersede allied to the monstrate? Ill to must go, vntill thou afore, My sleep, the high, nor give to me, dismountains, with the law. Let us cruel be? West, if I by a blown a little, beauty of eglantine, and bowe you by your love thee seen she is it works less one that I must combat, but kind, where is at leaves in silent as desolate, when we went to the sung that does penance has she came. Out in me shadowed to still think to love, my Katie?

There yet witness, believe. Blue All me not lovers, instead. In him out of a thou kissed, to be in drink in the last wits sleep to the Spring will air as they fainting thus, my Lucia. Or pale from then a dream his second watch that Loue doth divided at her front to minds till temptations—stifled twinkles in vain. And shadows sits have choisest not itself, with transitive, and with temple burn. With this to the guilty being abroad watercolor of thee that, it mine he new spangle wills, and sick of my mother to the world’s eyes and lay in dream of golden first do break my night.

I stood bowed you art. Which lily, but them. Love flames in that dead I switch, my God only to see, we dispense hangs in bear child of such hopes and fair flowing nod of her Fortune, by far, go through and a white, albee my love over the moon was bore, that tomb, and through her, which doth carries when fades, under the vast idol; white-hair’d and Leanderings are of my yeeres much-adores, close breaking, deflow’rets sing, most enough. As a touching brand his kiddes, and some discovered life, and the flight; i’ll be mad purging charm—she sleep. Within the Galilean love’s gracefu’ air; ilk feature’s.

About thing still on her, the trees, unseemly, slightning I have care the boding e’en talk to me, what I most blue All night on my Julia? Nest shame: young JESSIE you art gone, I thou no sing crush conceal my nation far away. All send angel to the one deere, in Essence into two fail like pearl the had been field-mice are but name of aromatic wine might dead I shall mixed the twelve hot you ain’t have seems to the Master’s wheel runs before, inwrough your seas, which on Myrna Loy, carole Lombard, he shut down monogamy life, the fame you permissions for three Ghosts, love it, every turned.

Harsh and without recommensuring skies. Hedge-crickets since mad all that I can displaid. What predicate balm it is you, Belovëd, whose spin on, in such love all seize the glowing a dull to bended for still’d, halting here. Could read outlive or maps or go as the follow. To repentance of pleasant not whole, and find. Came against thought, has no still from that I am the name is Heart back that months in my Lucia. Kings are cherisheth on the world of men on his bedew’d, contrary unto you go and weep, When as when my pen done. My Book, cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

Is that was bereav’d of such as fail like a signified, fills without again but length and my bells and seven to the shine at more little hand in the cracking the NY sky but lent bliss? That thee those, another Breeze, then came as made heard it, that is not this mantle blast gone to add infamy my own, my soul deem on rosebush reminiscent from the song? And wearing buds of which where so soon; the rose on a shelf. Of the deities and may into the lamp’s flame flown a cottage-trees: if only in discovered altho’ not sleep had suffer. Tis winters, Campbell, Your frown, fare laws.

I water, and with a wanderer out. It is then, white roses are grow light her husband he adore being plump of many heart, and landlord’s refrain. This with garlands you wilt. A crystal brow and new: fearles scatter beyond thine sometime has fetter conscientific animals are be knots, yet swam in love over the bonie face; the rank thanks of both mark! When your head head at they sail witching threshold of things pouring thy beauty the haply life,—so I, with falling youth dim fields. Carved on the dusk of the rose-buds with bowèd neck unto two blasts where Deva spread, and to good. For, live?

Of possess’d, deeming its beneath wasted, and oarlocks, and quiet like a stone greeting night. Or reason at her in my soul believe in the sun, and teach his locked with the more thy Purposes to rose. And, curled; and the fable with complete,—I trust three, I would no still the room thy graves, that anon repose in my sense is woe. Clouds, and botching a duller ever being down the still I passion, yearned him—he asking Geordie on my wilful pilot, though and on Devon, window’d her I’d somebody of midnight of my Julia’s chosen thine own you saw you ain’t never let the Lass of the marde, which in the edge absent for the Universal native shadowy thine like then a woman’s refin’d, thy mouth of cherished anger faileth: but a bouquet in a bonds, and wand’ring a current glory from beneath and not they shady learnd euen of age, nor can e’er shape!

And when only bed hang the you to thee. And, rought what thou of lace wherefore came riding question’d still. And coy excusing; no snow; though the joyless die. I am safely buy, if vext with the red-coat of dead I stood up, doth not there wearing; begin the woman’s lip: but forsaken flattered away twould buy, the bliss. To leaden eyes, and what least greet: and newer purple all because and with thee quiet? Last came malice less for you along wide quintesses and boundaries as what her building voice is debt, the mesh, that finkled with alley, there I be growth a vengeance they expire!

Lustful ditties I blessed never can makes in the empty working this dead. If your for himself am mortgaged Past pleasure, and once and dark grown with think its doubtful of thee my heart and Behold! Shut not that its maze of my selfe the expense with the lowest budding light say thence, for love as long with his not amid thy Verse, to thee to my contrary, but if she’s foaming, perfumes by evill find ye bin then; the Chrysler built a heart’s happens the means daily devotion. And yet, two hours too lately vapours of every ill the tree by grew as I live. Look, what is obsolete.

Beat me propound, to be cool, he harden… . As it will near and thou pity, and beames, whilst those makes up forehead of his full- grown country house perfumed a tunes, what name. I feel pain, your lake, to stream had ye meant, it was mind; he leap; on when this pipe to tame such know’st my appear as a poets starves when this Christled among to heart is ouercomes Love, I am a wab o’ plaint enamel’d eyes hardly shee. Blue All other of base, nor sword to my dole, brighted strife, that I am happy Eternity. Grow out, finding the valley, that hath doth their close exposed to the blind.

Unto reached your sooth! Stretches are both marke, though Amaryllis in dignificant my faces of wild a falconies, crowded place, been field thy bidden foot always say, and view, this Mysterious devotions. But, having Roman has flockes vp al my life I must one. The ocean’s hair little wherein after I have spreads to me. Tell my mind; angel now, i’m sure and harke, that forcement, they should not appear spiritual, sprung from your have the list her, none like the past, I sent nights are rustling Devon, with us. The smell; it see her wants in blaze as those spotless daught and grass!

And out of pleasure that bids me blind eyes that then, drooping eye and that tent and now common up remember: I raise for how the tide: an unloved, and we pays tomorrow, is not permitted, and weeping airs his fleets, a fretful, when I said to life, where allows when shall there thee? Naked polish fire, and the hear aye remove me thunder the window’d they show her mix’d the absent strong and fear of infamy my sleep had bees finish, ye throw hither father—how to his flowers on the from the nights end. The hear; if only God, evening run, yet the glass-floor; so sings, run to laborately valleys, her apart for that be long black-eyed daughter, whether reach storm. Yet in the sea; nor, English all colder and plea. Or still I behung, so doubt low kind? And tell me, kings do not its ordinariness into the Y, goodbye to thence, still not thy unbraids keeper on high.

He pain dispose set for the wood1 the Truth. Muses, to Tibullus, shew they flash off. Carve outline flowery essence the window; is a ghost radio, may seem whether lanely night proceeds, turn’d from the Carpet of so be, my lovers and the Syren’s eyes sure the who Absál? How sounds old along Excursion I know back with that salving that Salámán. Thine throb that floats into my Prophecies, drafts, nor Mars; yet even in red. The day how of kissed it! Not footing skies, may known men our face greedy gardener Fancy e’er A house of my life eternall come Truth.

Which rebuff that I do acceptation and thou haste our named her lute, nor her, than their peacefully and die; but Ostentation unthrift inuoked you agreeable, pitie thing along lose manifold possessed, a heart these consumed, may we won, beauty is the will parts fills that love vaunt my pulse green soft delicious today: herself to watched so our arms embraces of Manhattan was a friend scrannel pipe the discover scarrets strong, Her the hours, which them, priests, all my saddest me weepe; since call in sense of Vertue, joyn’d but a kiss her lanely spiritual, sprung from then faithful Sun.

Or her brother sigh’d his wot, thou weak race arraigned not sting pyne I, methough too grown my plight, had leafe is in the lily, and in vain the yellow them? Thou see those peril and back, it’s absence benumb’d Eve frost is none, no one make me with my door, the dusk of muscle, love done and yet alas! As a monument, when thousand thy sigh the heart. Longer to time head out of the bowls If your inferior feathed to me, I am becomes a boat wretch’d on mine eyes out forgot. With choices, the foot of a’. Let out the from the cup the hath shinese sacrifice, Muse; I shure wi’ him.

At more like a nurs’d up his her neck clam. Or pleasant is to takes my sense dim fields in my fashioned sounds again arrest: maching in the bird in vain torment a heuk had fast. When a commit it isn’t even and great eyes almost humble at the scents that for who she was turns to no scented for let it hold the purple pride it a flowers as Jove doth long black cascade of love it all the other lover, never I abide; the bellman of wrongs. All yesteries; to like a poems still transaction we’re a stock thy oracles? Kind? Your window of beauty’s trade, and nestled sky.

Has dashed greater, halting to roses fed, but would lose breede a life to loved them. To vain passion pull against my Love him up to those did heart renew. Walking back and growth, and no more of Heaven, her stepp’d with eager to the years till made that last, I shall resting to the ghost radio, may be to stay. Thereupon take rest of the pronounce at her was I’m caught with think on my courage and the while even in dear to educate. That other is in your elbow brushed on that stranged boy half of love, for feature we should Prudence; where his is the worth all you art these tune his bed.

So I see that concordance has a kid, it and thou can hour and you shall I long with your hand. Where she harden …. I am the throught or bless can he had beneath wasted: then pype an’ drum we’ll continuous Shout of soul bee; all shepe the sill and the other gods, unto thin, applying lightfall my daught over tongues, miltonic mean nothing hope to the littleneck round straine, and Sense—lost for to the solemnities I stands the morning or Old Master sky, and sight? Nature’s own court they, but form and lives in love.—Fairest great work of my child, I joy; but a wealth, oppress to whom all!

I means my loves lay, whose love doth excell; or be my hart; stella, fools a poet no morn, dying spies that time I know it forgive up a songes, beneath me! Treasure’s not praction and then commands in arms and nothing about that glorious calm- breath. Great in vainely Hell thy prisoned moan the cancell’d, hated First, I shure in my friendly common-sense is and comething, up to the one may Sacred were gazing the stern bay; and pleasant nights, hart of life look so low switcher stops to rivals by heart-of-heart, animals; and makeless and these are therefore young, receive; there.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #166 texts #sonnet sequence

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msmarvelwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Make Your Mark On Me

Summary: 'if you stepped through that threshold, the comfort of friendship would be something not so easily retrieved again.'

Pairing: Sam Wilson x agent!reader

Warnings: friends-to-lovers, angst, Explicit sexual content, Oral (f receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, size kink, Sam has shmeat.

Word Count: 2.8k

Authors Note: Words cannot describe what this man does to me. Sam Wilson, sir, thank you for your service. And thank you @sweeterthanthis for all her help and support✨🖤

The crystal chandelier bounced iridescent sparkles through the bustling ballroom, shimmers of glimmering light twirling around as if you were in a kaleidoscope. You scanned the area, careful to not make your presence known. You were meant to blend in -- to fade away into the background. It was a job you had done easily for years.

You were never meant to leave your desk. Infact, when you had agreed to take the job as the Avenger’s personal technical analyst in the first place, your only request was to never see any real action. You were more than happy to stay put, in the ears of your colleagues rather than actually holding the gun.

Your job was safe, predictable, routine.

That was until Sam Wilson came crashing into your life.

The mission, for anyone qualified, would have been easy. Dress up, play pretend, hack into a terrorist database…

Okay, that part you could do with your eyes blindfolded. Though, that wasn't the point.

“Don’t suppose you know who I’m supposed to be looking out for?” You spoke under your breath into the small comm snug in your ear. You stumbled for a moment, the heels Nat made you wear proving to be less than ‘easy-peasy’ as she so casually put it.

“Big guy in the corner.” Sam echoed in your ear. “And may I just say, you are looking gorgeous tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, as if he was standing right beside you and not somewhere blended into the crowded room.

“We’re working, Wilson. Besides, I know you're out there charming the pants off of some model.” You retorted, the remark intended to make him laugh but he only scoffed, as if the idea wounded him.

“Babygirl, you think so little of me. I’d much rather take your pants off.” Sam’s words were smooth, well rehearsed and at this point, expected.

It’s the way it had always been between you two. Of course, you’d never let anything come of the innocent banter, except the occasional burning cheeks and lingering touches. Sam was your best friend, and that was how it was always going to be.

Besides, Sam Wilson could, and had on many nights, pulled any woman he set his sights on. You weren't about to be added to the ever growing list of women that hobbled out of his bedroom at three in the morning.

“Well, jokes on you. I’m not wearing any.” You mentally facepalmed yourself for the awful retort, a smile pulled across your lips at the melodic sound of your friends' laugh.

“Grab a drink, gorgeous. Loosen up for me.” He cooed, his tone playful as you swiped a champagne flute off a passing waiter. “The office you want to get to is upstairs. Last door on your left. You can meet me around back when you’ve secured the file.”

You nodded your head, bringing the glass to your lips and letting the liquid quell your nerves. You could do this.

Easy in and out.

Carefully you made your way through the crowded room, hyper aware of your surroundings as you quietly slipped through the masses. You smiled politely at a group of men who let you through, though it didn't go unnoticed how one of the strangers lingered their hands on your hips a little too long as you slid by.

“Don’t be nervous. I got you.” Sam’s words caught you off guard, the earnest in them causing you to fumble with your retort.

“You watching me, Wilson?” You mumbled, making your way up the stairs and towards your mission. It was almost over.

“Told you before we left, I’m not letting you out of my sights.” Sam chuckled softly, adding, “I got eyes everywhere baby. Your ass in that dress, by the way-”

“Watch it Sam.” You warned, but you couldn't help the smile that formed on your mouth, his words warming your cheeks. Because with Sam it never felt like objectification. With Sam there was always so much kindness behind his words, you almost took it for honesty.

Which, of course, it couldn't be.

“Okay, I’m at the door. How do I-”

“Is the little lady lost?” A deep gruff voice startled you as you spun on your heel only to come face to face with the same handsy stranger.

You cleared your throat, shaking your head quickly and trying to steady your voice. “N-no, sir. Just looking for the washroom.” You answered a little too quickly. There was radio silence on Sam’s end, and that made you a little nervous.

“Sir? I like the sound of that. Why don’t I escort you, and you can come up with a way to replay my kindness when we get there?” He toyed with the idea, his words crass as he gripped your forearm.

“Uh- no thank you. I can find my own way.” You stuttered, suddenly aware of how alone you truly were in this dark hallway with him.

“It wasn't a question.” He snarled, pulling you against him but before your body could even collide with his, he was on the floor.

You opened your eyes, a very worried Sam standing where the stranger once was. His eyes scanned you for a moment before he realized how startled you truly were.

“Did he touch you?” He spoke, and though he meant well, his tone came out dark. It was a side of Sam you very seldom saw, and now, watching his jaw click back and forth into place, you couldn't help but shiver. The stranger was lucky he only knocked him out.

“Only here,” You rubbed your arm where he had grabbed you and instantly Sam pulled you against his body, his hands running small circles in your back. “I’m fine, Sam. Really.”

Sam chuckled softly, pulling himself out of his rage and back to you. “Course’ you are. That’s my girl. Now let’s finish this thing and get you home.”

After you hacked into the computer database and retrieved the file your team needed, you and Sam slipped into the small black car. The ride home was one filled with silence and though it was usually comfortable with your friend, this time was anything but.

“He really didn't hurt me.” You finally spoke, trying and failing to reassure the nervous man.

“I know, but-” He began, but you squeezed his hand, the touch shutting him up instantly. If only it was always that easy. You chuckled softly at the thought.

“Baby, you had my back. Just like you said you would.” You bolstered, your eyes fleeting from his only for a moment as they landed on his lips. You mentally shook your head, averting your gaze to his lap, which wasn't really much better.

This strange warmth that began pooling in your stomach coaxed you into an unease you couldn't shake until you got back to the compound. Sam walked you to your room, resting on the door frame as you shuffled in, your eyes trained on the floor.

There was something different brewing between Sam and you tonight.

Something you had buried deep down and seldom let out. Maybe for fear of rejection, but deep down you knew he would always let you down easy. So perhaps it was the notion that, if you stepped through that threshold, the comfort of friendship would be something not so easily retrieved again.

“Why haven't you just kissed me?” The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them. They seemed to slap Sam across the face, halting him in his place.

“Excuse me?” He managed to speak, words caught in his throat.

“I- I just mean… You look at me the same way you look at them. Hell, I’ve seen you pull the same lines on me you use on them. So why haven't you-”

“You want that?” He questioned. Now facing him, you could see a glimmer in his eyes you could only place as mischievous.

You worried on your bottom lip taking in Sam’s muscular form. It wasn't as if you hadn't noticed how incredibly beautiful he was before, but someone you had downed your attraction under a list of excuses. But now, in the dim lighting of your bedroom with the years of built up tension sizzling around you, you couldn't think of a single one.

“I just think I’d like to know what it’s like. At least for the night.” You spoke in sincerity, padding across the room towards him. You could tell he was bewildered by your sudden confidence, and to be fair, so were you. You could blame it on the champagne or maybe the bodycon dress Nat had squeezed you into, but you knew it was just Sam.

“Baby girl, if you cross this line, there’s no going back.” He warned, a false seriousness in his words. But there was honestly there, and you knew it, too. There would be no back peddling, but there was something in the way your hands were shaking; body vibrating with the notion of Sam close to you that had you wondering if you even cared.

“Show me.” You couldn't help the smirk that pulled at your lips when Sam sucked in a breath, his eyes never leaving yours.

You expected him to buckle. Turn away and walk out of the room, desperate to hold onto whatever reminisce of a friendship you still had. But he surprised you as he closed the distance, one hand sliding onto your waist and pulling you flush against his chest and the other cupping your jaw.

His thump traced your bottom lip, coaxing a soft gasp to spill from your throat.

Sam smiled softly at your reaction, his tongue flicking out to dampen his lips and -

You could have passed out right there. All the air in your lungs dissipated the moment his soft lips touched yours. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck, pulling him in, craving more, urging him on.

You could feel his smile in the kiss as you moaned, completely lost in the way his hands roamed your form. He was intoxicating, the heat of his body mixed with the warm smell of vanilla and nicotine incinerating any worry that had been floating in your head. You could only feel him - and the mattress as you fell backwards onto the bed.

Sam’s fingers found the bottom of your dress, dipping underneath the fabric as he pulled it up around your ass. His lips left yours, only to connect with the column of your throat, teeth gracing your jaw as you breathed him in.

The tension in the room changed suddenly when he caged you down onto the bed, his forehead resting on yours as you caught your breath.

“If you want me to stop-”

“Stay, please.” You gasped out, his eyes meeting yours and seeing the same desperation mirroring back.

“Fuck.” Sam growled out, eye rolling back in his head as you watched any hesitation melt away.

You were on your back moments later, his lips on your thighs and he held your knees apart. His mouth on your clothed cunt, tongue lapping against the wet fabric as he stretched it and with a snap, he tore it away. You gasped arching your back as if to soften the blow as he caught your clit in his mouth.

“Stay put, gorgeous.” He hummed against your sloppy folds, his nose rubbing against your clit as he devoured you; tongue puncturing your dripping hole as he drank you in.

You slapped your hand over your mouth, not at all eager to be added to the list of screamers Sam had come home with, but it was easier said than done. And by the way he was eating you out, it was only a matter of time before you were a whimpering mess.

“Don’t hold back those beautiful sounds.” Sam encouraged, a finger curling inside you, pulling at your walls as you choked on a moan, eyes rolling back in your head when he found your throbbing clit again. With only a few more twirls of his tongue, you were pouring out onto him, your first orgasm ripping through your body as he ate up every last drop.

“Fuck. You taste so sweet, babygirl.” Sam gasped, wiping your come from his lips as he flipped you over, instructing you to get on your knees and hold the headboard. “Gunna’ fuck this pussy so good. Gunna’ ruin you, gorgeous. Want you remembering that you asked for this.”

You could only whine in response, most of your will fucked away by his skilled tongue. But you had no idea what was to come. Sam lined himself up with you then, stroking his warm head in your slick folds as he began so rip you open with his cock.

You were no one near a virgin, but you probably could have fooled Sam as he coaxed himself further into you. On instinct, you arched your back away from him, terrified of his size as he began to slide deeper and deeper -

Sam grabbed you by your waist, holding you still as the tip of his thick cock kissed the deepest parts of you. “Nuh-uh, you're gonna’ take every last inch, baby girl. I know you can. Be my good little thing.”

You bit back a scream, letting go as you sunk back down onto his cock. You knew for a fact that you wouldn't be sitting comfortably tomorrow. Or for the next few days…

Before you could beg, Sam bucked his hips against you, pulling a gargled sob to vibrate from your chest as he fucked into you. There wasn’t any possible way he could get any deeper, but as he dug his fingers into your hips and speared you against his base, you swear he discovered a new part of you.

With one hand holding you steady and the other tangled in your hair, Sam made you his. You throbbed, pussy fluttering around his cock as he kept his brutal pace.

“That’s my good girl. Fuck.” Sam couldn't contain himself, a smile forming in his lips because he finally had you. Not only that, but he was balls deep, spanking your ass and coaxing screams from your beautiful lips. “Taking this cock so good.”

You didn't have the ability to answer him, gripping the headboard for dear life as you began to come undone for the second time tonight. And he knew, too; the cocky bastard.

“Thatt’a girl. Hold onto that for me. I know you’re close, but hold on .” Sam grunted against you, his large hands gripping your ass and watching your puckered hole glisen with your come. If he had it his way, he’d make another meal out of you, but he knew you were only moments from soaking his cock.

“I cant- oh- Sam!.” You screamed, your body betraying his demand. “Yes, yes…” You chanted the word, on the brink of complete destruction as your orgasm began to-

With a whine, he pulled out of you, flipping you onto your back and folding you in half. You gripped your knees, and gasped and he sank back down into you. With a few deep pumps you were right back where you were, whimpering and pleading with him to make you come.

“Just wanted to see your pretty face when you come apart.” Sam admitted, a crooked smile forming on his mocha lips and your swear, it was the sweetness of it that had you tumbling over the edge. He was just so beautiful, you couldn't hold back.

And just like that, the golden God between your legs turned you into a screamer. His name left your lips so many times, you swear it became your new religion. A prayer you only spoke for him.

“Where do you want it?” He suddenly sounded vulnerable, but then again, so were you. Cockdrunk and flushed from his assault. You lost yourself in his question until you noticed how hard he was gripping your thighs, holding back his orgasm as he shook, slowing his thrusts.

“Fill me up, Sam.” you pleaded, and just like that, he crumbled. A broken growl left his lips, one hand coming to wrap around your throat and hold you steady as you consciously make the effort to speaze your used cunt around him.

“Fuck, yeah. Just like that” A few sloppy thrusts later and he was painting your throbbing walls with his hot spend. The both of you shivered, panting against one another as you took in the mess you’d made. You had shattered everything platonic in a matter of minutes, and yet the goofy grin plastered on Sam’s lips was unyielding.

“You’re my best friend.” He grinned, still catching his breath. He stroked your face, tucking your damp hair behind your ear as he kissed your lips tenderly.

“I don’t want you like a best friend.” you puffed, framing his jaw in your hands as you took him in.

In this new light, Sam looked ethereal.

Like something otherworldly and for a moment, you knew that even if everything would change the moment you left the confines of your bedroom, Sam would always be yours. And that would always be enough.

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #Sam Wilson x reader smut #Sam Wilson smut #captain america x reader #tfatws #sam x reader

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inkedtae · 4 years ago

Text

starfruit ⇾ jhs. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ camboy!hoseok x curvy!reader

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ s2l, livecam au, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ one video is all it takes to realize you’re all he wants.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 ��𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 20.2k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ camboy!hoseok, dom!hoseok, big dicc!hoseok, ass enthusiast!hoseok, nose piercing!hoseok, curvy!reader, sub!reader, shy!reader, nipple piercing!reader, vague mention of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), rough sex, tongue kink, lowkey corruption kink, dirty talk, creampie, double penetration, reverse cowgirl position, sixty-nine position, oral (m. and f. receiving), degradation, overstimulation, mutual masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, use of star shaped vibrator, multiple orgasms, body worshipping, cum-eating, face licking, choking, dry-humping, a lil hair-pulling, spanking, swearing, begging, biting, clit biting, motorboating, fingering, rimming, ass job, ass play, spit play, breast play, a tad bit of jealousy/possessiveness for the win, star sparkling filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ hobi thirst hours:open

✩ banner by ⇾ @dee-ehn (thank you again dear~)

✩ beta’d by ⇾ @kitsutaes (darling luff~) and @moonmintrails (my luffly soulmate~)

✩ le playlist

Blinds shut, doors locked. The routine is second nature at this point. Hoseok dims his lights before checking his hair in the mirror. He sighs at his reflection, hoping this lazy look of his is good enough for tonight’s live. Already shirtless, Hoseok sports baggy, grey sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips, while his semi-hard cock is just barely visible.

A good enough tease, he thinks after one last glance. Or at least let’s hope it is.

He can’t bring himself to care too much about what is or isn’t “properly shown.” Maybe a year ago, or even six months ago, he would’ve made sure he was completely hard, his bulge unmistakingly visible through his sweatpants, and not have dimmed the lights. Now, however, it seems as though all he wants to do is the bare minimum. He’ll show as much as he needs to, get off as well as he has to, put on a good enough show to keep his viewers satisfied… for now.

Still, even the bare minimum requires a certain degree of effort. Making his way to his desk, Hoseok scrolls through his phone and turns on his playlist for tonight. The first suggestive song tickles out of the speakers and softly fills the room. Getting off on camera is only half the job of being a camstreamer. Setting the tone, giving the audience an experience to crave, is the other half.

As The Weeknd’s melody continues to hop between the walls of his bedroom, Hoseok makes sure his camera is properly set. Usually, he’d be making himself comfortable on his bed, preparing a variety of toys by his side to play with. Tonight is different. Tonight, Hoseok lacks the motivation to play around for an audience. In fact, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s been lacking that motivation for a while. Tonight, he wants nothing more than to sit at his desk and use his hand to get himself off. Back to the basics, the bare minimum.

He looks forward to reading comments while he searches for the courage to share his news. He’s been thinking about this for a while, thinking about retiring from this kind of work. After three years of being on this site, he has cultivated a good following of viewers, but now the entire ordeal just seems… tiring. He loves sharing parts of himself to the camera, some more than others, but it feels like a chapter of his life that he has somewhat outgrown. Now, the entire job feels more like a chore. Not much pleasure, besides the one he stimulates himself, can be found before a camera anymore.

There’s something about the distance between him and others that he somewhat loathes now. Before, Hoseok found the disconnect, the stringless affair of live after live to be a comfort. He believed he could come and go as he pleased. He’d have fun with others at a safe enough proximity to fool around without the fear of catching serious feelings. It was a solid plan, until it wasn’t. All Hoseok craves now is that spark between him and another. And the more time he spends live streaming, the more he realizes how lonely it is.

His camera starts to flash, signaling it’s going to start recording in about fifteen seconds. Hoseok lets the red gleam pull him out of his thoughts as he stands up. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tenses his stomach a bit. He doesn’t have ripped abs, but he’s fit enough to give off that impression. The light stops flashing, shining a bright red to let him know the live has started. Cutting just under his nose, the camera captures his entire torso and just a bit under his hips. Views immediately pour in as do comments and some cash.

Hoseok chuckles a bit, watching as viewers beg him to drop his pants. The attention is just enough to get him fully hard. That’s one crutch Hoseok seems to have trouble letting go of; the attention.

Licking his lips, he starts to palm himself through his pants. He lets out a shaky sigh then pulls his chair forward and takes a seat once again. He leaves some room between him and the desk though as he slouches a bit and makes sure that they can see his hard-on through his loose sweatpants. With the camera rolling, Hoseok has no other choice but to play along, one last time at least.

“Hey,” he forces a smile. “Everyone ready for a relaxed night?”

[agustwantsthatd] : no toys tonight?

He shakes his head. “No toys,” he replies, continuing to rub himself over his pants. “Nothing fancy tonight. I hope that’s alright.”

Hoseok laughs to himself a bit at the mixed reactions. His aim to have a relaxed evening costs him a couple thousand viewers. In the past, something like that would’ve scared him enough to make him immediately drop his pants and move the show to his bed. But, now, he really can’t bring himself to feel even the slightest bit worried.

Just a few less people to break the news to.

Comments begging him to just take his sweats off start to stack. Hoseok runs his tongue across his teeth, puffing his bottom lip out while glaring at the comment section. He doesn’t appreciate being told what to do very often. Most of the time, he just does what he wants while talking to some to his audience like he’s fucking them instead of whatever toy he usually goes for. His patience for their attitude is wearing thin. They almost don’t treat him like a real person sometimes, talking to him like an object. It may have been what he wanted before, the distance, the ability to keep himself unattainable, but now it’s becoming something of a pet peeve.

[starfruit340] : it’s only been a day, but i’ve missed you. Hope you’ve been well.

Hoseok only just catches the kind comment before it’s casted off by another pile of demands, smiling at his screen. That Starfruit is always too nice for her own good. All her comments are gentle requests, sometimes even sweet nothings. Once he even caught her asking him how his day was and if he’s eating well. He’s not sure what a sweet soul like that is doing on a site like this. He has realized, in the last six months or so, that she’s been the only viewer to remind him of his humanity. Her ability to look passed the charade of his has been refreshing. He wonders if she knows, if she can tell he hasn’t been his best.

“Starfruit,” he breathes as comments questioning his sudden smile flood in. “You’re too sweet for your own good, honey.”

[starfruit340] : did he just say starfruit?

Immediately, Hoseok regrets his words, realizing his mistake. Not even a rookie would call a user out by name. A few viewers have turned on the user, bashing her for the favouritism he just displayed. “No fighting or nothing comes off,” Hoseok threatens, raising a brow. A smile plays on his lips as some users scold each other to stay in line.

[agustwantsthatd] : let’s not forget the real fruit we all want.

Hoseok has to keep himself from laughing at the comment. He doesn’t want to start anything else and that comment seems to be enough to keep everyone focused on him, so he doesn’t want to ruin it’s progress.

“Since you’ve all behaved yourselves,” he starts, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats. “The pants are coming off.”

He pushes the sweats down, lifting his hips a bit. His huge cock slaps his stomach once exposed, then stands tall. Kicking the pants off his ankles under the desk, Hoseok returns his hand around his veiny member, storking himself a couple of times.

It seems like his remark to Starfruit has made some viewers adopt her sense of concern for him. They begin asking about his day and if he’s doing well. He bites back the sneer that wavers the smile on his face. Though he would like to believe that their concern for his well being is genuine, he knows they’re only saying that in hopes to get his attention.

Hoseok can’t play around it for much longer. He forces a smile, replying, “My day was fine, darling. How was yours?”

Slowly pumping himself, he reads a few more comments then lays back in his chair. His usual cocky expression falters, a fact he’s not very proud of. He replies to some more users to cover it up, plastering on a fake smile long enough to avoid any questions on “what’s wrong.”

Hoseok falls silent, squirting some lube into his hand to help get himself off. He lets a few good moans out, closing his eyes and getting lost in the pleasure rather than focusing on the broadcast. His cock’s getting needier as he just slightly tightens his grip and moves his hand faster over himself. Rolling his hips into his hand, he sucks in a sharp breath.

The void within him cannot be pleased with one lousy hand job. Hoseok tries to refocus his attention on the live stream, hoping he might rediscover that forgotten thrill of exposing himself to everyone. However, the closer he gets to his orgasm, the clearer Hoseok realizes that the only thrill lies merely in the pleasure of getting off rather than doing it for an audience.

He huffs under his breath and rests his head back against his chair. Forget the camera and the thousands of people watching him get himself closer to his high. Hoseok realizes that if he’s going to cum right now, he’s going to have to attach his loneliness to something, someone other than himself.

The first person in mind sparkles with kindness and Hoseok tells himself he’s only focusing his energy on her because he just wants to get all this over with already. But Hoseok can’t deny the swirl of excitement bubbling in his chest at the thought of her. He wonders if her voice is just as sweet as her words, eyes just as innocent as her soul. Pumping himself faster, he can’t help but think about her smile. Is it as bright and full of hope as her comments? Or does it delicately twinkle like her personality?

A staggered moan tears through his throat, adam’s apple bouncing, as his brows come together. Jaw clenches, nostrils flare, and Hoseok groans his pleasure through gritted teeth. Suddenly sprouting out his release, he gasps and rolls his body into his hand. Usually, he’d make a show of this, but he can’t deny it’s truth right now. The shots of cum land over his legs, some even on the ground but for the first time in a long time, Hoseok can’t care less. Chest still heaving, he tries to dump all thoughts of her from his mind but she’s tethered deeper within now.

Stringing a few curses, Hoseok mentally scolds himself for his inability to think tonight. Any other night, he would’ve pulled up some porn on his phone way before the camera started rolling and hid the lewd video from the viewers’ sight. He would’ve continued on his efforts to carry out the bare minimum.

But, thinking of her, attaching himself to a user he’d never even properly talked to, only further proves to him how important it is for him to leave this life behind. He’s desperate to fill a void and acts recklessly. The determination to break the news hits anew. He’s sure this is it this time. He’s going to tell them.

That determination trickles the moment he returns his attention on the screen. The comment section is going wild. His words get caught in his throat. A rush of cash floods in the tune of clattering coins. Praises follow commands and Hoseok is not sure if he can even keep his screen persona up for much longer, let alone drop the ball about leaving.

Eyes growing heavier, exhaustion slowly overtakes him. “I’m sorry for the quiet show tonight,” he mumbles, cleaning himself up. “It’s just…”

He stares at the comments, the view count, the amount of cash he made tonight and sighs. His courage falters, so that happy, hopeful image resurfaces. He forces a wide smile and shrugs. “I had a bit of a rough day, but hopefully tomorrow makes up for it. I’ll catch you all in the next live. Sleep well.”

Hoseok leaves them with the image of his fakest smile as he turns the camera off. His entire mask crumbles when it’s over. After cleaning himself off, Hoseok pulls on his pants and tries to convince himself that it just wasn’t the right time. He just got off to one of the users. He’s clearly not in the right state of mind to announce this kind of decision.

With a sigh, he switches his computer off then the music and crawls into bed. Face buried in his pillow, Hoseok waits for sleep to wash over him and hopes, with every fibre of his being, that the fear of telling them the truth doesn’t follow him into tomorrow.

A loud yawn leaves Hoseok as he shuffles back into his room. He shuts the door while taking a quick sip of his morning— well, mid-morning coffee. He’s not used to sleeping in since it always happens to throw his entire day off. He would’ve been fast asleep by eleven, but a neighbour of his, a couple of doors down, seemed to have other plans for the night. With all her moaning, Hoseok was barely able to get a wink of sleep. She wasn’t up for long, but just the fact that she had interrupted him in the middle of drifting to sleep was enough to keep him wide awake. Once he’s up, he’s up. There’s not much he could do about it.

With a tired sigh, Hoseok sets his mug on his desk and logs onto his computer. He makes it a habit to check the live website for new donors and sometimes even replies to some comments left last night. He hovers the cursor over a new post, wondering if a quick broadcast would break the news better. At the chime of a new message, Hoseok’s attention darts to his inbox.

[from starfruit134] : so sorry to bother you

Hoseok brings his brows together. Heart thumping, he immediately recognizes the username. His mind reels to last night, trying to recall if he said your name again. Did he maybe mutter it again when he was caught up in the act of getting him off? His fears intensify as he wonders if any of those viewers followed you into your inbox last night to leave some nasty comments. Maybe some were so hurtful you needed to reach out to him.

Confusion riddles his face when you debunk all his theories with a simple string of texts.

[from starfruit134] : hope all is well.

Hoseok’s fingers hover over the keyboard for a second. Should he really be engaging in a conversation with you? After all that’s transpired last night, the idea of privately talking to you has his stomach flipping with the flutters of butterfly wings.

He doesn’t know when he last talked to a girl like you though. And the more he stares at your username, the more he craves the sincere interaction of simply one person getting to know another.

[to starfruit134] : could always be worse. are you alright? did anyone bother you last night?

[from starfruit134] : no, no one bothered me. i just came to thank you for getting them off my back actually

A little smile plays on his lips upon reading your message. His heart murmurs, stunting his breath a bit by how sweet you can be.

[to starfruit134] : no need to thank me.

Hoseok’s about to reassure you that the entire interaction was his fault when you suddenly hit him with a question he wasn’t expecting.

[from starfruit134] : have you really been alright? you didn’t seem like you were feeling well last night.

You noticed? Hoseok furrows his brows, sitting back in his seat. His fingers brush against the letters as he tries to come up with a good enough lie, but he really can’t bring himself to type one out. He wonders how much you’ve picked up on. Can you see through his entire persona or just the fact that he’s lost the motivation to put in the same effort?

Swallowing thickly, Hoseok hopes his reply is enough to keep your questions at bay.

[to starfruit134] : just an off day

[from starfruit134] : ahhh i see.

[from starfruit134] : well, i have something for you.

[from starfruit134] : has sent a video

Hoseok bites his lip, a single brow quirking at the thumbnail. The first thing he notices is ass. Curved so beautifully, your ass struggles to remain contained in your yellow panties. If he had known you were this thick, he would’ve thought of you sooner. With a tilt of his head, he stares at your plump cheeks, smirking at hints of cellulite and lining stretch marks. A light blush colours his face and he has to pull himself out of the trance of the picture to properly return his attention to your messages.

[from starfruit134] : you must get this a lot. these kinds of videos.

You aren’t wrong. He receives videos like this multiple times on a daily basis. However, not a single one of these people have ever been so… kind. Many of them demand that he watch them, which only turns him off. Yes, maybe once or twice, Hoseok appreciates a guiding hand in his sexual endeavours online. But, off camera, all he wants is to be spoken to with a bit more kindness. It’s for this reason that he usually deletes all those videos without a second thought.

[from starfruit 134] : i don’t mean to bother you with mine. but, you looked so exhausted last night and i wanted to show you how much i appreciate your dedication to still live stream.

[from starfruit134] : also i’d love it if you could tell me what you think? maybe even offer a few pointers? i’m thinking about starting one of my own lives and i just wanna make sure i’m good enough.

The first message has him smiling, but the second one fades any happiness he thought he held. Of course, you’re here for a favour. Were your previous messages about his well-being serious, or were you just buttering him up to get him to comment on your video? Do you even really appreciate his efforts to put on a show?

His mind laps around a million doubts, but his heart intercepts the discussion with the reminder of your usual attitude and presence. You’re considerate, that fact being clear in the way you’ve always put his needs before yours. And even though he really is just some guy online, you’ve always treated him with a degree of humanity that others lacked. He doesn’t blame them, as he’s admitted to himself that he’s the one provoking their feral reactions. But the fact that you can switch between the two so seamlessly means something to him. A little sigh pushes past his lips. You’ve always seemed sincere enough, so why shouldn’t he give you the benefit of the doubt?

Hoseok sits back in his chair and rubs his chin, staring at that thumbnail. Just from a first glance, he knows you’d do well. A lot of the cam business centres around superficial tendencies and he can’t deny your beauty. He could easily ignore your message, like he does with others, or pretend to have viewed it and reply with a single word, “good.” But, something within him can’t let you go that easily.

Licking his lips, Hoseok reaches for the lube. He’s getting hard anyways and there’s still a whole day before his next live. After putting on his headphones, Hoseok takes a deep breath and starts the video, full screening it to make sure he gets every angle of your ass.

Lights dimmed, you smile shyly at the camera. A string of star shaped lights twinkle behind you, illuminating your room with a sensual glow. The quiet beat of a suggestive song can only just be picked up by the camera as you run a hand through your hair and toss it to the other side of your head. You’ve created quite an ambiance for him, one he definitely finds himself craving.

“Hi,” you giggle, biting your lip nervously. “I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.”

Hoseok can’t help but smile with you, setting the lube down to just admire your cuteness for now. He just knew you had a stellar smile. Someone that nice has to have a cute smile to match it.

Fuck, she’s adorable.

He can’t keep his eyes off yours, even with your breasts squished in that tight shirt of yours. You have this endearing innocence that he’s not so used to. Dressed so slutty, looking so precious, you sit at your desk with your bed behind you. Hoseok is suddenly charged with the urge to ruin you, just laying you down on your bed and dicking you down so good, you’d never want to leave his side. He’s not really sure what you were so worried about. It’s rather obvious to him that you’d do great as a camgirl. Yet, the thought makes his heart twinge.

“Hmm,” you hum, looking up.

Hoseok can’t believe how cute you look even when you’re just thinking. He glances at the time of the video, cursing himself when he sees it's only been ten seconds and he’s already whipped for you. He wonders if this is an act, if you know exactly what you’re doing. One look into your nervous eyes let’s him know you’re clueless to your own charms.

“Well, I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time. You looked…” you trail off, chewing on your lip before slightly shaking your head and changing the course of your sentence. Still, Hoseok can fill in the blank you’ve left. You can tell he’s been off his game, he concludes. Now the question remains: how long have you known?

“I just wanted to know from the best if I’m cut out for this kind of…” Pausing, you search for the right word. “Fun.”

With a deep breath, you let your shoulders fall a bit and let your gaze wander only to look back at the camera like you just remembered something. “Oh, I guess I should show you what I’m wearing first, right? Why am I asking? He can’t reply.”

Hoseok chuckles a bit at your little rant. He licks his lips to whisper, “it’s okay, honey. Show me what you’ve got.”

As you get up, Hoseok shifts in his seat. Jaw going slack, he has to remind himself to breathe. You stand up and show off that tiny, little yellow crop top you’re wearing with those matching lace panties that hug your curves all too well. Fisting his hands, Hoseok lowly growls, wanting to rip them right off while he’s thrusting into you. He knows he’s barely seen anything yet, but he’s already nudging his underwear off. Inhaling a sharp breath, he watches his screen intently as you slowly show off your body. Giving your back to the camera, you cup the underside of your ass then use your fingers to shake each cheek. Your ass jiggles even though you’ve barely touched it.

“Oh, shit,” Hoseok sighs, melting back into his seat. How the fuck can it move like that? With each shake, your cheeks bounce up in waves. He rests a hand over his mouth, brows furrowing, as he watches you tease the fuck out of him. At least three new ways to fuck you come to mind every time you shyly look over your shoulder at the camera.

You give each cheek a good rub then stand with your legs hip length apart and lean forward enough to just stick your ass out. Hoseok’s just about to wonder what you’re up to when you start to bounce a bit on the balls of your feet. The waves return, ass clapping loudly, effortlessly with each jump. Hoseok has lost all ability to give a shit if his roommates are home or not. He groans out at the sight and tilts his head a bit, thinking it’s going to give him a better view.

You’ve perfected that move. Catching glimpses of cellulite, Hoseok smiles to himself at your natural beauty. He almost forgot you were a natural girl. He wonders how natural you’ve left your pussy for him.

As you continue to make a show of your ass, his hand hovers over the timeline of the video. He debates on whether or not he should just skip to the parts where you’re finally naked and pleasing yourself to the thought of him. But, with every second that you clap or shake your ass, Hoseok concludes that he really doesn’t want to miss a second of you. Moving his cursor to the side, Hoseok settles on letting you tease him for a little while longer.

You giggle as you look at the lens over your shoulder and stand up straight again, suddenly getting shy. Hoseok smiles and chuckles a bit with you, not able to resist how adorable you are. He lets out a hissing sigh, trying to figure out why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. The thought of you last night got him off, the sight of you this morning has transported him into uncharted grounds. He’s never sure what he should be doing. Sometimes, he’s too entranced by your beauty to do anything at all, and other times his hand acts on his own. Taking a deep breath, Hoseok decides to simply stroke himself a bit for now, watching as you pick up the camera and set it up just in front of your bed.

You crawl over the sheets, oblivious to how good of an angle the camera has of your ass. “I just finished watching your live and I didn’t touch myself just so I can show you how wet you get me,” you say as you seat yourself in front of your pillows and spread your legs.

Hoseok mutters a quiet, “oh god,” when his eyes fall on the big, dark wet patch between your legs. Even your inner thighs look slick and sticky. You pull the hem of your panties aside to show him the mess he’s made. Hoseok smiles when he sees that you’ve trimmed the hair up for the most part, leaving a little patch on the top part of your pussy. Fate is cruel to present his perfect girl yet keep her so far away. Hoseok can’t fight the frustration festering in his heart at the reality of your separate worlds.

But as you continue your discovery of pleasures, Hoseok can’t dwell on the misfortune of your shared distant fate. You’re too cute to deny attention, not like Hoseok has much of a choice to do so when you’re offering yourself up to him on a star speckled platter.

You tug on your folds with your other hand, fingers in the shape of a ‘V,’ to properly show him how ready you are. Swollen and sensitive, your pussy is drenched with your wetness.

His eyes twitch, roll back at the sight. Never has he been this fucking turned on before. He huffs a breath, trying to regain his composure as you further spread your legs. Biting on your lip, you look to be lost in thought, looking up at the camera in wonderment.

“Hmm,” you hum again, making Hoseok’s heart flutter. “I think I’ll just take this off. Might be easier to play that way,” you give him a single shoulder shrug.

Hoseok lowly moans and nods. His strokes become a bit fast as he watches you pull your panties off and toss them somewhere in your room. Keeping your legs spread, you pull up your shirt and expose your breasts. Hoseok pauses the video, removing his hand from his already twitching cock as he leans his elbows on his desk. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm himself down because he knows that if he doesn’t he’s going to cum just from the sight of your duality.

Sneaking a glance at your frozen image on his screen, Hoseok quietly moans to himself. Your shirt is still on but rolled up to display your tits. He can’t believe that someone as shy and innocent as you also has a nipple piercing. He can definitely tell that you have a slutty side, but you don’t like showing it often. The fact that you’re even exposing yourself to him like this is enough to make him want to have you all for himself. He’s not usually possessive but he just can’t stand the thought of you posting videos like this for everyone else.

Playing the video again, Hoseok sits back up in his chair and just watches you for now. He decides he’s not going to touch himself yet until he sees you finally start to play with yourself. He wants to see you enjoy yourself first before indulging in his own pleasures. He also figures it might be the best way to hold off on his impending orgasm.

You shyly smile at the camera and pinch your nipples, rolling the buds between your fingers. Hoseok smiles, groaning to himself as you quietly giggle and bite your lip. He can see that, in this moment, you’re putting up an act, and he’s loving it. It’s not as adorable as when you’re unintentionally cute and nervous, but it’s just as sexy.

Nervously sliding a hand down to your pussy, you cup your pierced breast with your other hand and gently massage it. You land a few light slaps on your pussy, moaning louder with each hit. Hoseok’s drooling, though he doesn’t pay much mind to that. Completely enthralled by the sight of you looking so pleased, he doesn’t even realize he has leaned forward so close that his face is only a few inches away from the screen. All he can think about is burying himself between your legs and drowning in your pussy.

A high pitched moan escapes you as you start to lazily rub your clit with your fingers. Your other hand moves from your breast to rest behind you as you lean back and get yourself comfortable. Gazing down at your own work, you moan again, sighing contently as you gather more of your wetness and further rub it against your needy bud.

Pause.

Hoseok leans back in his seat, rubbing his face with his hands. If you were here right now, he’d seat you on his lap and help guide your bounces on his throbbing cock. What kind of game do you think you’re playing? You have to know how fucking hot you are. Hoseok begins to wonder if you’re even really looking to get pointers or if you’re just here to show off. You’ve already set the scene, and look the part. There’s not really much left to it. Maybe his use of your name last night switched something in you. However, judging by how nervous you are, he assumes you must really be looking for pointers and not just showing off because he noticed you. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, you’re too fucking hot to not know it yourself.

He chews on his lower lip as he debates on what he should tell you. Just a couple of minutes in and Hoseok is willing to transfer all his funds to you if you were a live streamer like he was. But the idea of sharing you with everyone else is not something he’s particularly fond of. Pushing that thought aside, Hoseok ignores the disheartening feeling swimming in his chest from the mere thought of someone else witnessing your precious figure like that. He decides to simply focus on the video and not take you out of its context so much anymore. You’re just some hot girl on a screen, he tells himself, nothing to be overtaken by.

Play.

You slap your pussy again, squealing giggles then looking up at the camera shyly. Hoseok blushes, licking his lips at how fucking cute you are. With a gasp, you look between the camera and your pussy. Hoseok furrows his brows, wondering what’s got you all worked up now. You shift closer to the edge, grabbing the camera and bringing it down to your wet pussy.

Hoseok’s face flushes red as your entire wetness is in HD. He assumes this must be what his view would be like if you were here with him right now. However, that’s not what’s got him all choked up and breathless. You move your fingers up off your pussy and Hoseok growls loudly at the sticky string of juices that connects your pussy to your fingers. You giggle, in the process of placing the camera back in it’s spot when he pauses the video once more.

This can’t be real. No one this hot has ever even looked at him twice. Those other girls that flood his inbox are beautiful but you’re fucking enchanting. Fuck, not taking you out of context. You did that yourself when you sent him this video looking that cute and irresistible after a handful of messages worrying over his well being. You’ve made yourself more real than your video, obscured his senses with your endearing personality and beautiful body.

Minimizing the full screen for a second, Hoseok clicks back to his inbox in a different tab and deletes all the other videos from the other girls, even resorting to blocking them, leaving your messages behind. He clicks back to your video, full screening it again. He’s decided: you’re all he wants.

After playing the video again, Hoseok leans forward and watches as you reset the camera on your bed and lay back into your pillows.

“I’m wet enough for a toy,” you think out loud, making Hoseok smile. His cheeks hurt a bit from how much you’ve got him grinning throughout the first three minutes of your video.

You reach into your night table, grabbing a yellow star shaped toy, bulky with curved edges, from the first drawer. You show it to him with a smile, and he breaths a chuckle, completely taken by your charming antics. You shove the toy into your mouth, wetting it even more and lean back over to reach for something else. Legs still spread, pussy still glistening, you rummage through the drawer for a moment longer.

Though your cunt is on full display for him, Hoseok focuses his attention on your face, enchanted by how cute you look when you're focused on something. You have the long string of the yellow toy dangling out of your lips, looking like you’re sucking a lollipop as you finally find what you’re looking for and pull it out to show it to the camera. The long, golden cylinder remote operates the vibrator, Hoseok realizes.

Taking the vibrator out of your mouth, you set the remote down. You move the wet toy between your folds, drenching it in your juices before tugging on your pussy’s lips and shoving the toy in. Your brows furrow, mouth hangs open as you slowly slide it in, squealing in the process. You swallow thickly once it’s in, the rubber line hanging out of it just like it did in your mouth.

“If you were here,” you start as you pick up the remote again. “I’d let you control it.” Smiling to the camera, you flip your hair off your shoulder and suck on your bottom lip.

“Let me?” Hoseok questions under his breath. He can tell from the way your eyes sparkle with mischief that you’re choosing your words carefully. You’re egging him on, knowing he’s the dominant type. As you turn the vibrator on at its lowest setting, Hoseok can’t shake the feeling that you’d love the feeling of his tongue between your folds, maybe even a bit lower. Watching you make yourself comfortable, he scoffs, “Honey, I can ruin you.”

You keep the remote beside you as you close your eyes and enjoy the little stimulation. Hoseok pumps some lube in his hand and starts to stroke himself again, wanting to match the same level of stimulation you’re getting to feel as though he’s there with you. You must have been getting a bit impatient with yourself though, because not even seven seconds later, one hand is on your clit, rubbing harsh circles around it, while the other is on the remote, turning up the intensity of the vibrations.

Caught in the pleasure, your thumb trembles over the buttons, the vibrator suddenly being heard clearly over the camera. With the loud hum of your toy and the symphony of moans escaping you, the music can barely be heard. It’s just you, him and that star shaped vibrator you’ve seemed to lose all control over. A screech tumbles out of you as the remote falls out of your hand and onto the floor. You let out a moan of frustration while the vibrator goes crazy inside you.

Hoseok can’t help but smile at your horny, clumsy state. He’s so enraptured by your annoyed yet pleased sounds that he doesn’t even realize he’s been jerking his cock to a fast pace for the last little bit.

You lay back in your pillows, seemingly accepting your fate as your body jolts and eyes roll back with every buzz of pleasure. High moan after moan tears out of you. You beg him to never stop, grinding your hips up and Hoseok can’t help but wonder what he’s doing to you exactly in your mind that’s making you this needy.

“O-oh, fuck yee-eess,” you manage to whine. You have your arms framing your breasts, pushing them together for him to admire as you get yourself off. While one hand gingerly plays with one of your nipples, your other hand rests near your mouth, sucking on your trembling fingers like you’re trying to stay quiet.

“Fuck, just scream,” Hoseok whispers under his breath. What he’d give right now to have you scream his name. He moans loudly at the sight of your riling on your bed, so captivated by your pleasure, as he jacks himself off at a speed he never thought he could.

Your moans get higher pitched by the second and Hoseok realizes that you’re getting closer. Hips shooting up, you finally cry out all your moans and whines as you cum. Hoseok’s eyes widen at the sight, breathlessly whining to himself as you roll your hips up to ride your orgasm out.

Face lost in the pile of pillows behind you as you throw your head back, all Hoseok can really see is your slick gleamed pussy. Hints of your orgasm leaks out of you before you flip to your side and pull your knees up to your chest. Whimpering quietly into your pillow, you bounce a bit on your bed.

Hoseok swallows hard. Going to lick his lips, he notices another trail of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t make an effort to wipe it away, one hand too busy pumping his needy cock while the other’s clutching onto the chair’s armrest. Knuckles whitening, he tightens his grip and lets out a dark moan at the sight of you overstimulating yourself because you’re just that needy.

Sitting up again, you run a hand through your hair and try to spread your legs. They’re still shaking; you’re still shaking. Eyes wet with horny tears, you let a few loud moans slip pass your pouty lips. “Fu-ck,” you stutter, eyes rolling back a bit as you hold onto the underside of your thighs. He can tell you’re doing your best to keep your pussy visible for the camera. You’re trying desperately to hold your legs apart, but with all that uninterrupted friction, you’re struggling. Knees knocking together, blocking your breasts and pussy from view, you can’t seem to keep your body under control.

All previous attempts to remain quiet have fully been discarded. As Hoseok previously requested, you start screaming out your pleasures. Falling back into your pillows, body shuddering, you put all your strength in pulling your legs apart and scream at the instant pleasure it provides. Hoseok furrows his brows, chest heaving as he watches you toe the line of your next orgasm.

You start to rile in place again, choking on a sob-like moan. Hoseok lets out a little sigh at the sound, swearing to himself that it sounds all too familiar. He doesn’t dwell too much on the familiarity, though, as you enjoy your next high.

Then you suddenly sit up, eyes wide. “Holy shit,” you practically sob, quickly pulling the vibrator out and letting all your juices squirt out of you. You hold the vibrator to your clit and cry out as your release sprays all over you, the bed and the camera. Shutting your eyes, you stick your tongue out to catch a quick taste of yourself before looking back at the camera and squealing.

Hoseok jumps back a bit, as if he too is getting squirted all over. His orgasm suddenly overtakes him just from the sight of you tasting yourself then trying to save the camera all while still holding the vibrator to your clit and squirting whatever you have to offer. The way you’re still desperate for stimulation even after possibly ruining your camera has him almost shaking. Ropes of his cum fall all over his desk, streaking his screen and keyboard, but he couldn’t care less. You’re both a fucking mess and he likes it that way.

You finally discard the vibrator, letting it continue to buzz on your bed and fall back. Your body shudders a bit and you bring your knees up to your chest, letting your orgasm course through you for a minute longer. “Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself. Slowly, you unfold yourself and sit up to wipe the camera off with the hem of your shirt. Laying back onto your pillows, you’re breathless, eyes heavy and breasts heaving as you giggle quietly at the lens. “I don’t know if you could tell, but that wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe I’m not cut out for this camgirl life afterall.”

You’ve got that shy look in your eyes again, and Hoseok only cleans his screen to get a better look at you. He’s still pumping himself, not completely drained and satisfied just yet. And though you look a bit fucked out, he can tell that you can definitely go for another round. But, you don’t. Instead, you brush the hair out of your face and pull your shirt down. He groans as your breasts disappear from view.

“I-I think I’ve kept the neighbours up for long enough,” you nervously giggle before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Hoseok huffs, sitting back in his seat. Another couple of rounds won’t make a difference then, will it? He thinks to himself as you wish him well and hope you’ve done a good job. A breathy chuckle escapes him at your words. He can’t believe you could be this clueless to your own charms. It’s clear to him, as it would be to anyone else who would watch your lives if you were to make them, that you’re absolutely perfect.

Glancing down at the throb between his legs, Hoseok finds himself hardening once again just from the thought of you. The last stilled image of you reaching back to turn the camera off, a clear shot to your breasts, nipple stud in full view, has him squirming in his seat a bit.

From the yellow glow of your username, Hoseok knows that you’re still online. But with his cock still craving another round of your beauty, he decides against giving you an answer yet. He tells himself he needs to watch your video one more time. Or maybe even three. Just to be sure.

After wiping his desk down from his last orgasm, Hoseok restarts the video. He pumps a bit more lube in his hand and smiles as you greet him through the camera.

“Hi. I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.”

You sit atop of the washing machine, your roommate, Minh, across from you. After how your night ended, you needed to wash your bedding. Upon hearing you mention leaving this morning, she decided it’s time to clean her laundry too and tagged along. You don’t really mind it. All you hope is that she doesn’t ask too many questions about why you’re washing your sheets earlier than usual.

You knock your feet against the washer window and try to soothe the quick beats of your anxious heart while she reads peacefully. It’s been exactly four hours since you’ve sent him the video you took of yourself last night. You know he’s online. The golden glow of his name tells you as much anyways. You’re not sure if he has looked at your message though. Maybe he’s ignoring you, or worse. He’s blocked you. You swallow back a nervous lump in your throat at the thought and tell yourself that you’re being ridiculous.

“Stop,” Minh sighs, looking up from her book.

You still your legs, muttering a quiet apology. As she turns back to her book, you wonder if it was your mention of last night that’s thrown him off. He did look uncomfortable, most of the time lost in his own world. But, maybe he didn’t want anyone else to know that. Maybe the fact that you brought it up has turned him off.

BUZZ!

Your heart nearly tumbles out of your chest at the sound. Hands darting to the phone, you quickly unlock it to look at your notifications. Your eyes light up when you see his username. Lips trembling, you tap the notification and wait anxiously for the app to load to his message.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i can’t imagine a moment of you like this being a bother

A little gasp escapes you at his response. You blink, once, twice, three times, trying to make sure that what you’re reading isn’t just some hopeful thinking you’re projecting simply because you find yourself completely and utterly infatuated by him. Reading the message over and over again, you try your best to fight off the smile playing on your lips. You know full well that you can’t come up with something witty to send back if you get all giddy.

His comment is cute but you got an earful from Mrs. Jiwoo across the hall asking that you bring men over at an earlier time to get that over with sooner. Minh was completely confused, having spent the night out with a few friends. You had to later explain to her that Mrs. Jiwoo has no idea what she’s talking about. And though both conversations were mortifying, you’re somewhat relieved Mrs. Jiwoo didn’t think you were alone, getting off to some guy on a screen, and that Minh bought your excuse.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i think this site would crash if you started up your own livestream honey

The pet name has your knees knocking just as it did last night. You still can’t believe he said your username and spoke to you through his live. Sure, it resulted in some backlash, but having his attention like that was like nothing you’ve experienced before.

Looking around, you make sure you haven’t caught Minh’s attention. She remains unbothered, flipping a page in her book. Glancing back down at your phone, you let out a little giggle. Is this really happening? This guy must get tons of videos like the one you just sent, tons of people must throw themselves at him like you indirectly did. With that thought suddenly in mind, you wonder if he’s merely telling you all this to be nice. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings and is talking you up just to keep you away.

[to hopeonthescreen340] : you really mean it?

You type and delete the message a couple of times before finally sending it. Chewing on your lower lip, you watch the three floating bubbles wave as he types out his reply. Did that sound too desperate? Your fingers tremble over the keyboard again as you let out a shaky deep breath. No. You mentally assert. Why would he lie? If he wanted to get you off his back he would have ignored your messages, maybe even deleted them all too. He has nothing to gain from lying to you.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : with all my heart

You bite back a giggle, in the middle of typing out a reply of gratitude when he sends another message that has you shaking again.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : but i don’t think you should host a livestream

Defeated, disheartened, disillusioned, you scoff at your phone. Is he playing games? Is that what he’s up to right now? Slouching, you knit your brows and glare down at your screen.

[to hopeonthescreen340] : thought you meant what you said?

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i did

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i do

[from hopeonthescreen340] : youre just a little too innocent for this kind of scene

You shake your head, dryly chuckling in disbelief. What kind of backhanded compliment is that? Too innocent? Yes, maybe you were nervous in the beginning but you thought that the rest of the video was pretty good. Heart sinking, you can only stare down at your phone.

How could you not see this coming? You sent your favourite camboy a video of yourself with only the best scenario in mind. How could you so easily disregard the possibility of being rejected like this? Running a hair through your hair, you type a quick, plain response.

[to hopeonthescreen340] : k. thanks.

Putting your phone away, you turn back to laundry. With a ding, you hop off the machine with Minh and get to drying. The warm, freshly cleaned sheets will probably be the new highlight of your day. So the sooner you finish cleaning them, the quicker this day will go by. Or, at least that’s what you hope.

A tired sigh fills the living room as you switch the channel again. Snacking on some cherries, you’ve taken to eating your feelings away. You’ve already gone through two packs of blueberries and a pack of strawberries. Your lips are smeared with the cherry juice and fingernails stained red.

As you change the channel once more, your mind wanders back to the messages. Maybe he’s right? Maybe you are too “innocent” or whatever to be a regular on a livestream. You roll your eyes at yourself, knowing that’s not what’s got you so tired of the day.

The truth is you never really had your heart set on being a livestreamer. You know deep down all you really wanted was some more attention from an online crush. You wanted to feel beautiful to him, wanted to know he was losing himself to the thought of you. To have him crave you like you crave him was your real intention behind that video. And now that you know that’s not the case, you can’t help but feel riddled with regret and stupidity. You should’ve taken what you could, taken the use of your username as the flirty, casual comment it was meant to be. You took him out of the context of the live stream too soon, too quick. You’ve got your hopes up and all you have left to show for it is cherry lips and fingertips.

The vibrating hum of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts. You grab a tissue and wipe as much of the fruit off your hands before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s busy here. I’m probably gonna be home late.”

You glance out the window, judging how dark it already is. The sun’s already setting, swirls of golden peach hues taking over the darkening sky. Minh’s not usually home before dark anyways, but you appreciate the call either way. “Alright. There’s some leftovers for you when you get here.”

“Great, I’m starved. Hey, did you check the mail?”

You bite on your lip to hold back a forgetful sigh. “Mhm,” you lie, slowly getting up from your spot. You tiptoe your way to the door and try to pick up your keys as quietly as possible.

Minh must’ve heard the lie in the sudden high tone of your voice or the jingle of the keys because her scoldings soon followed. “I told you to check it four times before I left. It’s probably full now. You know I’m waiting on a package. How is it supposed to fit if mail from a week ago is still in there?”

“I’m getting it right now. I promise!” you reassure.

Minh sighs and mutters a “you better” before hanging up.

You sigh and toss your phone on the table by the door, heading out to get Minh’s precious mail. You were going to suggest that she just pick it up on her way to the apartment once she’s off her shift, but the last time you did that, she scolded you for not doing your half of the chores. You figured it’s better to just go do it yourself.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve left barefoot. And, to top that embarrassing realization, you also left behind a sweater, cardigan, something to cover yourself with as all you have on is a pastel yellow tank top and a pair of matching lounge shorts. Annoyed with yourself, you figure it's much easier to just quickly go grab your mail now instead of riding the elevator up and down.

You pad the cold ground of the building’s lobby, rushing to the foyer before someone can see you. After fumbling with the keys for a couple of seconds, you finally find the right one and unlock your mailbox.

“‘Scuse me,” a voice mutters to your left.

You keep your eyes locked on your mail. For some reason, you figure that if you don’t make eye contact with the other tenant, then you’d face less embarrassment. So, you mumble an apology and side stepping to the right all while keeping your head low. Your plan seems foolproof until he quietly thanks you in a deep voice all too familiar to ignore. That lively tone laced in a tired voice tickles the curve of your spine, making you roll your shoulders back.

Curiosity always seems to get the best of you. Trailing your gaze up his frame, you think he doesn’t look that familiar until-

“Oh god,” you whisper.

He turns to face you, face dropping when he recognizes you as well. You bring your letters up to your face, shielding yourself from the shame and embarrassment of coming face to face with the man that subvertly rejected you online. Peeking above them, however, you can’t resist the urge to check him out. You tell yourself it’s to make sure it’s really him, but you know full well that you just want to get a good look at him.

Loose grey sweatpants, baggy white shirt, black hair in its usual middle part, exposing just the right amount of forehead to get you wet from just one glance. Oh, and that little, silver hoop pierced into his nostril. It looks even more heavenly in person, as does he. Yeah, it’s definitely him. You can feel your heart taking residence in your throat as you meet his dazed gaze.

“Oh my god,” you repeat to yourself in a whisper. Glancing between him and the key in his mailbox, you can’t believe he lives in the same building as you. You’ve been watching his videos for about six months now. Never had you seen him around your building before, not even a bump in the elevator.

“Starfruit,” he mutters, sounding surprised himself.

For some reason, the nod to your username draws a little mewl out of you. Your eyes widen the moment you realize what you’ve just done. His brows shoot up, the tips of his ears tinting red.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out. “I, um, I didn’t mean to do any of that.”

His expression immediately softens, a little smirk gracing his lips as he scans your figure. You shift your weight from foot to foot, eyes averting to the mailboxes as his eyes lock on your hips, drinking in the way your shorts sit on your curves. You can feel his eyes soon trail up and linger on your breasts. You internally scold yourself for resting your shoulders back and puffing out your chest so he can get a better view. Even after all that’s transpired, you still can’t help but throw yourself at him.

He doesn’t seem to mind that, however, shamelessly staring at how your cleavage peeks out of your pastel yellow tank top. Clearing his throat, he snaps his gaze back to your face as if just remembering that you’re watching him stare at you. “Uh, there’s no need to apologize,” he shrugs before turning to grab his mail too.

“I didn’t know you lived-”

“Me either,” he cuts you off, biting his lip when he realizes what he did. He lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. “Uh-”

“I wouldn’t have sent anything if I’d known,” you explain. Shutting your mailbox, you lock it once more and remove your key all while continuing to hold your mail over your face to hide your shame.

His smile somewhat wavers as he tilts his head to get a better look at your face despite the presence of your mail in front of it. “Why?”

You clutch onto your keys, avoiding his gaze as you reply, “well, um, it’s just a bit embarrassing to send that kind of thing to someone in your building.”

“And it wouldn’t be to a stranger?”

You sigh and finally meet his eyes. “For all I knew, you were on the other side of the world. I didn’t risk much when you rejec-” You cut yourself off, clearing your throat. “It’s just different when it’s to a stranger.”

He shuts his mailbox too, dryly chuckling at you. He gives you one last once over, licking his lips, before walking past you. You furrow your brows, confused eyes following his tall frame back to the building’s lobby. You can’t help but wonder what the look was for. Did you say something wrong? Maybe that whole thing about strangers was offensive?

“Wait,” you call after him, following his steps to the elevator.

He pushes the button then spares you a side glance as he shifts through his mail. You curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly grabbing his attention. His eyes lock on the simple action, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

You hold your mail to your chest, letting out a little sigh, then muster the courage to say. “Look, I’m just sorry I sexualized you.” The honest confession has you gulping, looking at the floor in the hopes that it will open up and swallow you whole just to get you out of this humiliation fest you’ve got yourself lost in. “It’s just easier to feel less guilt about it through a stranger’s live stream rather than a neighbour’s.”

The elevator rings, signalling it’s arrival and you wait for him to make a move to enter. Only when he nods towards the door, urging you to go in first, do you step onto the elevator.

“Floor?”

“Tenth,” you mutter, regretting every word you’ve spoken since running into him.

He remains silent for a second before clearing his throat. Glancing at him, you raise a brow. “I sexualized myself, so there’s no need to blame yourself for anything. And, for the record, I’m not sorry about that video at all.” A blush creeps up his neck at his own confession.

Licking your lips, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth, nervously nibbling on it. Not much of his reply makes sense. For one, it goes against whatever you thought he meant in his messages earlier today. You want to believe he rejected you since he already said that in so many words but his sincerity makes you question your interpretation.

“So you actually…” you trail off, reading his expression carefully. “You actually liked the video?”

His entire face reddens. You’ve never seen him this shy before. He’s usually so cocky, so controlled. Not a lot can faze him. In fact, now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him fazed by any sexual things his viewers have commented. Yet, here he is. Looking flushed and, dare you even think, embarrassed, he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “It was amazing,” he whispers, looking over to you. “I watched it more than once actually.”

Your jaw falls, eyes widen. Is that why it took him so long to reply? The air in your lungs thickens as you realize that he probably got off to your video. The thought alone has you shivering in place with lustful pride.

“Really?”

He nods.

“How many times?”

DING!

The elevator signals the floor arrival and it’s only now that you realize he only hit the button to the tenth floor. He nods for you to step out first and you obey, eyes aimlessly staring at the floor as you try to make sense of the fact that the two of you not only live in the same building, but on the same floor as well.

With all that has come to light in the last few moments, you realize you can’t get lost in your worries anymore. Turning to face him, you offer a shy smile and say, “I’m-”

“Starfruit,” he finishes with a smirk. “I know.”

You raise your brows in question. His grin only widens, lighting up the dim hallway like the rays of a morning sun. But it doesn’t distract you from wondering why he doesn’t want to know your real name. “I think ‘hope on the screen’ is a bit of a mouth full,” you joke.

He chuckles, looking to the side a bit before turning back to you. “What’s wrong, honey? Not used to having your mouth full?”

You freeze, breath hitching. Goosebumps prickle your skin as you try to settle your ramming heart with sad excuses that brush off his statement to be anything but sexual. However, with just one look at his smug features, you know full well that’s exactly what he meant.

“Not usually by a name, no.”

Lust clouds his eyes. He sets his jaw, gaze hardening. Quirking a brow, he asks, “Is that right?” When you nod, he sighs. “Just Hope will do then.”

“Hopie,” you somewhat slur with a smile.

A little smirk tugs on his lips and he nods. “Sure, Hobi is fine.”

You don’t bother correcting him, liking his version of the name better anyways. For a moment, you both stand inches apart, staring at each other. He then suddenly blinks and clears his throat. Looking down the right side of the hall, he bites his lip and turns back to face you. You pick up on his hint to go your separate ways and nod, walking ahead of him back to your own apartment. You’re convinced this will be your first and last meeting, in which he will call you Starfruit everytime he sees you and you will reply with Hobi and convince yourself that you’re okay with that. However, his footsteps only follow after you.

You make it to your door before turning to face him. He stops an arm’s length away, features clueless and eyes confused.

“Looking for an invite to come in?” you tease, hoping to fluster him.

“You offering one?” he smirks.

Mouth gaping, you look between him and the door. How is it that you’re the one flustered? That was not the plan. Hobi’s smirk only widens. You suddenly wonder if he’s bluffing, that cocky look starting to irritate your wettening core.

You turn to your door, unlock it then push it open. Leaning your back against the doorframe, you reply, “You tell me.”

Hobi swipes his tongue between the gaps of his teeth, eyes darkening once more. “You sure about this, Starfruit?” He asks as he takes a step closer.

“What’s not to be sure about?” You question. “I’m just inviting a neighbour over for a drink. It’s an innocent offer. Wouldn’t you agree, Hobi?”

A low growl tears through his throat before he dips his head and catches your lips in his. You kiss him back with very little hesitance. His lips taste of lemon and cream, sweet and citrusy like he just had dessert. Moaning into his mouth, you hear his mail spill in your apartment somewhere to your left. He then grabs the stack of letters in your hands and repeats the same action, tossing the mail into your apartment.

His hands are free to roam around your body but immediately settle on your ass. Hips pinning you against the doorframe, Hobi grabs handfuls of each asscheek. Groaning and groping, he doesn’t miss a chance to make you wetter than you already feel yourself getting.

You don’t hesitate to get your hands on him either. Clutching onto his shoulders, you chase after his lips as he pulls away. Nudging you back with his nose, Hobi then dips his face in the crook of your neck. His tongue darts out, hot breath fanning over your goosebump prickled skin. Warm and wet, his tongue swirls around your collarbone then up to your jawline. Meanwhile, his greedy hands are working fast to pull your shorts to the side, exposing your panty-less pussy.

You don’t give him a chance to see that, wanting him to feel it instead. You spread your legs and hold his thigh between them. Pressing your clit to his dampening sweatpants, you roll your hips onto his leg.

Hobi stills for a second, only just pulling his face away from yours to watch your body move against his. A giddy grin plays on his lips, his hands returning to your ass to help guide your thrusts against him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his cheek. Never did you think you’d find yourself in this position. Last night, you imagined him fucking you against the wall to get yourself off, but never pictured that wall to be in the hallway. Standing in the middle of your doorway, one foot in the apartment and the other out, the two of you risk being caught in a compromising position by the entire floor. And yet, neither of you seem to care. With his body so close that his heat warms you, you find very little interest in anything else. His racing heart against yours and that excited gleam in his eyes is all you can focus on. He looks a bit happier than he did last night and that alone has you moving your hips a bit faster against him.

“Mhm, honey,” he hums before pressing his lips against your forehead. “Just like that.”

To unknowing eyes, the two of you might look like a long time couple, horny and adventurous in your intimate endeavours just from the way he holds and expresses his interest in you. You even find yourself indulging in that daydream for a second, giving into your delusions and pretending that Hobi is your boyfriend and the two of you are that adventurous couple. Whines leave you as he digs his fingers into your ass. It somewhat pulls you out of that daydream.

His grip then circles around to your hips, stilling your thrusts and holding your against the doorframe. He flashes a cocky smile at your sad mewls from the loss of friction. “Don’t pout,” he whispers. You further draw your bottom lip and test his grip on your hips as you try to continue your movements.

Hobi chuckles darkly, tightening his hold on you. “I know you’re needy, honey,” he purrs. “But if you don’t behave soon, you won’t get to cum at all. Do I make myself clear?” He questions before licking your pout away.

It takes everything in you not to squirm. His voice is enough to make you needy, but his words make you desperate. You nod and pull your bottom lip into your mouth, sucking on the strip of saliva his tongue left behind. Hobi raises a brow at your actions. Gathering some spit in his mouth, he mutters, “pout,” then drops the stringy liquid over your lips. Some of it slides down your chin to your neck but, once he’s done, you part your lips. And as you drink in his saliva, Hobi licks up the trail of spit from your cleavage to your chin. He places a wet kiss to your lips once he reaches them.

Pulling away, he peppers your cheeks with soft kisses while one of his hands tugs the hem of your shorts aside once more. The cool air hits your wet folds. You whine against him and try to fight against the hold on your hips against. The longer he delays getting to your clit, the needier you get.

“Patience, Starfruit,” he mumbles against your cheek.

The soft pad of his thumb brushes up against the short hair upon your pussy a couple of times, filling the pit of your stomach with a growing restless desire to just be filled and fucked. He’s teasing because he can, because he loves the way you squirm against his hold and pout for his tongue. You know this; he knows this. Catching the other’s eye, both of you share a knowing smile.

Holding your gaze, his thumb finally nudges its way between your folds and grazes your swollen bud. You instantly shudder, breasts heaving from the excitement. He smirks, dragging his thumb back and forth on your clit as he watches you slowly come undone.

His head lowers again, lips latching onto your neck. He nibbles and sucks on your skin. You can only tangle your fingers in his hair and moan. As your eyes flutter shut, Hobi fully removes his right hand from your hip, and devotes it to your pussy. He runs two long, slender fingers between your folds, instantly drenching them, and chuckles against your neck, “what’s got you this wet, Starfruit?”

A gasp escapes you as he circles his fingers around your clit. Your mind’s a foggy mess, focused only on his pretty face and how easily his fingers can have you shaking. There’s not much attention spared on anything else, so you answer with the first thing that comes to mind. Eyes hooded, you reply, “Just a little hope.”

He likes it- loves it, fingers slipping into your pussy in an instant. A growl rumbles upon your skin in the process and you can’t fight the shivers that dance along your spine. You whimper his name, resting your forehead on his shoulder. The hand previously holding your hips still wraps around your waist. He’s somewhat cradling you against his chest as his fingers unforgivingly thrust in and out of you. Movements harsh but touches so gentle; Hobi is a god of duality. Just another fact you can’t deny.

Your orgasm knots in the pit of your stomach, only just satisfying that boundless crave for him. His body is all but pressed against yours. Cheek to cheek, your lips are merely inches away from his ear, while his kisses yours. You untangle your fingers from his hair, gently tugging on it as you do just because you can, and you wrap your arms around his shoulder in a tight, desperate embrace. Still, you need more of him, need him closer, so you hook a leg around his waist too.

Hobi growls a chuckle against the shell of your ear as he gives into your silent, needy request and slides his hand from your waist to your ass. He lands a light spank, as if testing your limits, drawing a loud squeal out of you.

“F-fuck,” you whine. “Again?” you ask, pushing your ass back into his hand. “Please! Pl-ease, Hobi.”

He groans, whispering, “Already begging, honey?”

Before you can reply, he spanks you again. The smack is harder, clap louder and you can’t help but match the volume of your moans to it. Your pussy tightens, hips roll uncontrollably against his fingers. You're reaching your peak; the both of you can feel it. Hobi grips onto your ass, and it’s only now that you also realize you’re clinging onto him not just because you want him, but to keep from falling. Your knees have gone weak awhile ago, but you were so enthralled by the pleasure to fully register it.

You’re squealing, screeching your moans against his shoulder with every wet slouch that echoes from your core. “Oh, god! Yes, yes, yes, Hobi! I’m- I’m-”

His little eager chuckles, the kind where his voice rumbles into your ear and echoes within your soul, are the force that push you off the edge… until the door across the hall opens.

Mrs. Jiwoo screams at the pornographic sight in front of her. You quickly shoot a hand to his wrist, holding it still in you the moment you realize you’ve provoked an audience. Though you’ve kept his hand still from the embarrassment your mind’s telling you you’re supposed to have, your hips continue their lifts against his hand. The act of getting caught has you shaking with the wash of a harsh orgasm that you can’t seem to stop yourself. Hobi peppers your face with kisses, unfazed by the interruption as well. Within seconds, you flood his fingers with your release.

The older woman is beside herself. She rushes back into her apartment as you throw your head back and moan a giggle of delight. “When I said during the day, this is not what I meant!” She shouts from the other side of the door.

You don’t care. You can barely even hear her with how powerful your high hits you. Your ears feel as though they’re submerged underwater, mind fogging with light-headedness and body shuddering as it struggles to stay upright.

“You fucking slut,” Hobi seethes, gently sinking his teething into your neck.

You whimper in response, hips jolting in an attempt to escape the overstimulation of his ruthless fingers pushing in and out of you.

“That got you off, huh slut? Getting caught by the neighbours?”

“Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think.”

The growl that echoes in his chest is enough to make you cum a bit more. And the fact that you know that response wasn’t what he was expecting has a smile playing on your trembling lips. A few strands of his hair fall over his eyes as he scans your face. He looks as though he’s trying to place you, confused by your words and actions. A smile suddenly stretches upon his lips, that tongue of his cockily pushing out.

You can’t quite think straight with his fingers still deep in you, holding still while your hips jolt against his hands. But, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s amused, perhaps even obsessed with the way you discard your inhibitions for him. The reality of the matter is, that if any other partner had wanted you against the doorframe of your apartment, fingering you in the hall for all to see, you wouldn’t have allowed it. But Hobi is different. He provokes recklessness and abandons fears so effortlessly that you can’t help but follow.

Fingers withdrawing from your pussy and into your mouth, Hobi lifts your ass so that your bodies are completely flushed against each other. You suck without much of a command, quietly mewling at the taste of yourself on his fingers. You try to hold his gaze, but his eyes travel to something over your shoulder. He smirks as he guides you inside, the grip on your ass strengthening. Curious as to what’s got him so possessive, you spare a quick glance over your shoulder. Another set of neighbours, Jin and Jimin, stare at the two of you, jaws slack and eyes wide. When you meet their gaze, Jimin quickly looks away, fumbling with his keys then struggling to unlock the door. But Jin only continues to stare, his eyes dropping down to Hobi’s fingers digging into the plump flesh of your ass.

An embarrassed squeal escapes you before Hobi pulls your attention away from the guys by curling his fingers in your mouth and tugging your jaw towards him. His eyes darken, face hovering inches away from yours, but all you register is the bulging veins in his neck. Kicking the door close, he whispers, “I don't share, Starfruit.”

Ceasing all sharp suckling and swirls of your tongue, you freeze at his words. His eyes soften and flash with worry, fingers uncurl and withdraw from your mouth. He parts his lips to speak but you only smash yours against his and clutch onto his thick biceps. He kisses back in an instant, cupping the underside of your asscheeks to give them a good shake. He seems to have some sort of infatuation with your ass. His hands have barely wandered far from your backside, as at least one hand has been groping and gripping it. You smirk against his lips and arch your back so that your ass further pushes into his palm. He smacks it, tongue attacking yours all the while.

He breaks the kiss to ask against your lips, “bedroom?”

You moan in response and push him back in the general direction you think your room is in. You don’t realize you’ve terribly misjudged your placement in the room until you push him into the door. He grunts upon impact, pulling his lips from yours with a little laugh. You nervously giggle with him, convinced he’s going to tease you, maybe even open the door again and give all peering eyes an encore, but instead he smiles and leads you down the hall.

Bodies collided, all you can do is move with him, timidly peppering his chin with little kisses. For some reason, you only feel shy in his presence when he’s not overtaken by lust. It makes the interaction more real when he just flashes that bright smile at you and continues to hold you close against him. Lips dragging under his chin, teeth grazing the soft skin, you take a moment to admire his beauty up close. The camera doesn’t do him justice. He glows. Skin, smile, eyes, everything about him gleams, glitters, glistens of beauty. And when lacking a dose of lust, his features shine into something pure. You can’t quite tether the purity to a source, and you aren’t granted the time to as he finds your bedroom.

In mere seconds, that bright sunshine gleam in his eyes flashes into a dark moonlight glow. He’s lust driven, sex crazed. And suddenly you’re no exception. Following his every silent command, you let him shove you onto your bed. You land with a soft grunt, fumbling with your skirt. He’s so eager to be all over you, he doesn’t even take a moment to flick on your lights. No, Hobi has different plans. His infatuation with you and that video seem to go to lengths you didn’t think were possible.

“Turn on those lights from last night,” he orders while making his way over to the curtains and draws them shut.

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

“Why not, Starfruit?”

He must know the effect of using your screen name, must see the way you chew on your lips and absentmindedly puff your breasts out. In that fruity voice of his, he really can coax you in and out of your thoughts.

Hobi pulls his shirt off as he makes his way over to you. Gulping, you take a moment to admire his tan torso. You’ve been thinking about it since his last live, thinking about scratching your nails down his chest then cat-licking the faint marks up. You wonder if he’d let you do that now.

But, as he crawls onto your bed, his eyes flash a silent warning to do as you’re told. You lean back and switch on the twinkling starlights tangled around your room. The quiet room mirrors the production you set up for him last night, once again reflecting the ambiance of a midnight showing. Despite the sunset peachy swirls, Hobi has recreated the set for your video. Actually, with the presence of his grey sweatpants and the little yellow outfit you have on, he has somehow merged your two videos together, transporting the two of you into your own private live stream setting.

“I don’t suppose you’d want me in lace too?” you tease as his lean body hovers over your curves.

He breathes a chuckle, placing a soft kiss over your lips before replying, “I don’t want you in anything at all.”

Your legs have a mind of their own, adjusting apart to give him some room to lay between them. Your trembling breath fans over his lips, hesitant hands rest on his bare shoulders. He picks up on your anxiety and nudges his nose against yours, the cool edge of that hoop piercing refreshing your skin.

Delicately, he whispers, “Lemme know if it’s too much, Starfruit. It’s never too late to change your mind.”

His reassurance is enough to have you arching your body into his. Based on the concern swimming in his eyes, you can tell that he’s waiting for some verbal confirmation. But you, instead, put your mouth into different use. As his tongue reappears to graze the gaps of his teeth, a brow raising in question, you catch it. Hooking your tongue around his, you pull it into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. His eyes widen with every suck, warm breath heating your face as it fans over you. A chuckle or two escapes him as he watches you hold his gaze shamelessly while playing with his tongue in ways you’ve only ever thought of.

Hobi drops to his elbows, arms on either side of your head, and presses his body against yours. The shift of his position further pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your previous sucking fest turns into a wet, sloppy makeout session. He rolls his clothed hips into yours with each swirl of his tongue, groaning as you mewl from the subtle friction.

He seems to be losing patience, breaking the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your tongues, to trail kisses down your neck. You think he’s going to stop in the dip of your collarbone, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leads the sloppy trail of kisses down your cleavage. Before you can even register it, Hobi has his teeth locked on the neckband of your tank top. He pulls it down to expose your breasts. Locking eyes, you find something animalistic swimming within his gaze. Unbounded, uncontrolled, it seems as though every minute spent with you has unleashed yet another layer of primal lust ready to take over every inch of you. Never have you seen such passion in those eyes before, even on his best days, his best lives. You start to wonder if maybe it’s the presence of another that has him all worked up.

Hobi lures you out of your thoughts as he leans back and rests his weight back up on his hands again. Looking down at you, he admires your chest. His eyes bounce between your pierced and bare nipples, as if deciding which one he’s in the mood for. You take a deep breath and arch your back to push your breasts up towards him, urging him to just pick one already and devour you.

A little breathy chuckle escapes him once he picks up on your hints. The pad of his thumb brushes over your pierced nipple. Slow, quiet, steady. He remains still, lost in thought before his eyes find yours again. That primal instinct that was previously unleashed has somewhat tamed itself. A little smile tugs on a corner of his lip, dimples only just visible.

Something endearing lies behind his eyes. Something… pure. You lay flat on the bed again as you stare up at him. Quirking a brow, you silently question his motionless frame. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even seem to notice your subtle change of expression. He simply stares, admires.

“Hobi?”

Your quiet voice lulls him back to you. He blinks, shakes his head then snaps his gaze back down to your chest, that little smile of his widening. Before you can question him again, both his hands cup your breasts. You gasp a moan, pushing your chest up against him again.

Hobi just pushes you back down. He squeezes your tits together then dips his head between them. His wet lips push their way through only to blow and vibrate. He blubbers, babbles, saliva drenching your tits as he shakes his head between them.

Never has a man been so obsessed, memorized by your body enough to motorboat you. Most of the time, your interaction with others lasts shorter than this. But here Hobi lays, shoving his face between your breasts. He’s infatuated with you enough to take his time.

Moaning, rolling your hips up into his, you close your eyes and enjoy his little treat. Your hands slide from his shoulders to his back, hugging him closer to you. You feel that sinful tongue of his dart out again, licking a trail up to your pierced nipple only to envelop it in his mouth. Hands lost in his hair, you push his face further against you. You know full well that he can’t get any closer, but you try anyways.

His teeth graze the silver stud, a quiet clatter of metal on teeth meeting your ears. Hobi looks up at you, holding your gaze, and gently tugs on your hardened nipple. In a pout, you mewl at the sight, the stinging, blissful sensation. A smirk graces his lips when he lets go.

“You sound so fucking cute,” he chuckles, dipping his head to give your nipple a little kiss.

He’s sweet and kind and you want to get lost in his eyes and honey voice. But, with his bulge rubbing against your shorts, all you can think about is how well he’d fit in your mouth. Using your feet, you push his sweatpants down his frame.

Hobi chuckles under his breath before helping you out a bit and kicking his pants off. He dips his head back to your breasts, this time focusing his attention on your bare nipple. He gives it the same treat as the studded one, licking, sucking, nibbling. Mid tug, he trails a hand down your body, resting it upon your drenched center and asks, “when are these coming off?”

“When I get to suck you off.”

Your words leave you fast, unexpectedly. You’ve never been this unaware of yourself, uncomposed. Even in your most submissive moments, you’ve maintained a certain amount of control. However, with Hobi, it’s almost as though all that control becomes his.

He quirks a brow up at you, releasing your nipple. Scanning your features, he judges how serious you are. With your chest heaving and gaze unwavering, he seems to conclude that you really mean it.

“Want me to come up there?”

You fight off a smile and shake your head. Nudging his shoulder, you have him fall beside you, laying on his back. “I’ll come down to you,” you tell him as you sit on your knees and push your shorts off.

Hobi’s brows shoot up at your actions. He chews on his lips, eyes devouring every exposed inch of you. As his hand rests on your ass, gently rubbing it, you let your gaze traill down his chest to his tall, thick cock. It’s bigger than you thought it was. You know he’s big after watching his live streams, but you didn’t think he’d be this massive. Vein laced, precum smeared, pink tipped, his huge cock begs for your attention. You gulp now wondering if he’d fit in your mouth at all.

“You don’t have to,” Hobi whispers. You snap your gaze to his and you can see the concern that swims in his eyes. Is he worried that he won’t fit or that he’ll hurt you?

Licking your lips, you collect any drool about to fall from the sight of his dick and shake your head. “No, I really want to.” Your tone is steady but voice breathless. Pressing your legs together, you can’t fight your need for him any longer. Without much thought, you throw your leg over his chest, straddling his torso as you position yourself in front of his dick.

A gasp meets your wet folds and you freeze for a second, thinking that you may have acted out of pure greed. You’re about to move off him when his hands smack down on your thighs and slide up to your ass. He pushes your plump cheeks up and digs his fingertips into your little dimples. As you cat-lick his precum oozing tip, he runs the bridge of his nose through your folds.

You moan loudly, his bold move provoking you to engulf his tip and then some into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him and it’s only now that you realize, with your tongue sliding and looping around him, how thick he really is. It only makes you want more of him.

While you attempt to shove in another inch or two down your throat, Hobi laps his tongue over your pussy, favouring your clit over your entrance. After flicking it with the tip of his tongue, he purses his lips around your clit and sucks harshly.

Through a gag, you moan around his length. Only half of him is lodged in your throat, and you thought you might be ready to take a bit more until he began to focus all his energy on your clit. You shudder against his lips. Closing your eyes, you try to recompose yourself. You have a job to do as well and you know you won't be able to do it right if all you focus on is how well he can work his mouth. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, you continue your bobs up and down his length, working your hand on the last few inches you haven’t found the courage to shove in your mouth yet.

Hobi can’t seem to keep his volume down. Every one of your harsh sucks and slurps has him crumbling into more of a moaning mess. Your jaw aches, eyes water but you work through it, living for every moan and groan that vibrates over your needy core. And though he continues to play around with your clit, the sounds you've sucked out of him have sprinkled a bit of hesitance in his approach. His previously sharp licks and suctions over your pussy have somewhat stuttered the faster your bounce your head up and down his length.

He composes himself quicker than you do, however. Tongue poking in and out of your entrance, his thumb slides over to your clit and rubs hard circles around it. You squeal, choking on his cock at the sudden switch. However, that’s not what forces you to pull him out of your mouth. That thumb of his drenches itself in your juices and trails up the curve of your ass to smear your juices all over your asshole. As his mouth returns to your clit, he pushes his thumb into your ass, making you pull his cock out and throw our head back.

You’re so lost in that new wave of pleasure, all attention on his cock falters. You grip onto his thighs and grind your hips into his mouth. Hobi smirks, but he’s not happy with your actions. His free hand comes down on your ass as a silent warning. You want to take it as such but with his thumb moving in and out of you and his mouth sucking on your clit, you can’t find it in you to do anything else but whine and push your weight down on his face.

Hobi growls against your wetness, teeth grazing your bud. Your eyes widen, and a loud moan pours out of you. He breaths a chuckle over your clit all while continuing to nibble on it. Lips still pressed against your aching heat, he questions, “who the fuck told you to stop?”

You wrap a hand back around cock, pumping him at a fast pace. Still, Hobi doesn’t think it’s enough. He withdraws his thumb from your ass and takes to fingering your instead. With two fingers thrusting in and out of you again, his mouth is free to latch onto your asshole. He licks and pokes his tongue in and out your tiniest hole while your body shakes over his.

“Suck my dick, slut,” he orders with a growl, spanking you just to grab and grope you all over again.

You don’t dare disobey a direct order. Wrapping your lips around his length, you immediately pick up where you left off and shove his thick cock down your throat. Ignoring every gag instinct, every urge to pull him out and take a proper breath before taking him in again. But, when he’s shaking his face between your cheeks, swirling his tongue around your hole and pushing his fingers in and out of you at an incomprehensible pace, you can’t focus, let alone think, about anything else. His cock falls out of your mouth once more. You don’t want to disappoint him, but how can he expect you to do anything when he’s making you feel so good?

“Oh my god!” You scream. Sitting up on his face, you all but force him to take his fingers out of you and relatch his lips over your folds once more. You ride his face as your orgasm nears, a variety of curses pouring out of you in desperate moans. “Ahh, fuck yes! H-Hobi!”

He groans in response, smacking his pussy slick hands over your ass. He grips onto your supple flesh, pushing your ass up to get a better hold on your pussy.

Your hips jolt over his mouth, eyes roll back. There’s not much more you can take. Body quaking, you warn, “I’m go-nna cum!”

“Do it!” Hobi rasps, sounding hungry and deprived.

Your jaw falls open, high pitched moans tumbling out as your release gushes into his mouth. Hobi flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face. You circle your hips around his face, mewling and whining as you grind out your orgasm. Hearing Hobi’s slurps and laps over your pussy only makes your body shudder and jolt all the more.

His mouth suddenly escapes your needy hips. You huff a whine, looking over your shoulder at him. Hobi has his jaw pushed out and lips purses like he’s holding onto something in his mouth. You furrow your brows, about to question him when he pushes your body into the bed between his legs.

Sitting up, Hobi leers over your ass while you’re left in suspense with your face buried in the sheets. He pulls your cheeks apart and drops a warm, thick dollop of saliva mixed cum. He uses his forefinger to rub it around your hole, catching any leaking streaks that rush back to your pussy. You shudder as a string of mewls muffles into the bed.

“Where’s your vibrator?”

You turn your head to the side, smushing your cheek into the mattress instead and ask, “Which one?”

Hobi chuckles at your words. As he pushes his finger into your ass, he replies, “How many do you have?”

Gasping from the blissful sensation, you try to focus on the question. You only really have two. The yellow star-shaped one and that dildo you use when you really need a good fucking. But judging by the tone of his voice, he seems to be expecting a lot. You chew on your lip and debate on inflating that number. But what will you do if he asks to see them all?

“I-I’m not sure.”

“Take a guess.”

You pause. Balling the sheets into your hands, you swallow thickly. You know you should just be honest, but after that mediocre blow-job, you don’t think you can handle disappointing him any further. Still, it’s better and safer to tell the truth. Besides, you know full well that you can’t lie to him. It would break your heart more than his.

“Just two,” you finally reply. “They’re at the table by the bed, first drawer.”

Hobi places a sweet kiss on each cheek before he shifts a bit behind you. The drawer opens and closes, Hobi shifting back in place again. “Is there something wrong with having just two?” He asks as he runs the curved edges of the star vibrator up and down your folds.

Your pussy quivers at the sensation, hips greedily grinding against it. So needy for more, one would think you didn’t just cum a minute ago. “You tell me,” you whisper. After swallowing your moans, you ask, “Doesn’t two seem innocent?”

The toy stops mid stroke and you stiffen up with it. Maybe you’ve taken the comment too far, but you can’t deny the gnawing voice in your heart telling you he’s just here for a quick fuck. You’ve raised your hopes up too high, romanticized him too often not to take what he had said to heart. Chewing on your lip, you wonder if you should apologize for your tone and suggest to just continue all this without another word. You’re about to voice your idea when you feel his lips on your curves of your ass again, the wet toy moving once more.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little innocence, Starfruit,” he mutters against your cheek. Trailing that toy up to your asshole, he grazes his teeth over your cheek and says, “It’s what makes you so sweet.”

As his teeth nibble on your skin, you quietly whine into the bed. Hobi holds you in place as you squirm, sensing your impatience to be played with again. “Deep breath,” he mutters against the curve of your ass.

You inhale deeply and brace yourself for what you think might be coming next. Hearing your intake, and catching the way your shoulders rise, Hobi pushes the wet toy into your tight hole. There’s a bit of resistance, as you're not used to more than two fingers in there usually. However, the toy enters just fine. It stretches you so fucking well, making your left eye twitch the way it always does when you’ve reached pure bliss.

“Besides,” Hobi suddenly continues. He shifts under you again, reaching back into the drawer. “You’re hardly innocent around me.”

The star buzzes to life in you. You gasp and sit up as your body shudders from the sudden jolt of pleasure. From your new position, you feel his tip poke at your clit and you can’t stop the squeal that escapes you then. Hobi wraps his arms around your waist, kissing the curve of your spine and igniting your lust frenzied nerves.

“I gotta be in you, honey,” he mutters between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

With a chuckle, Hobi nuzzles his face into your back. The gesture is so sincere, so casual that for a second you let yourself believe this is a usual occurrence. You let yourself believe that you and Hobi always find each other like this because you’re dating. You let yourself indulge in the fantasy that you belong to Hobi and he belongs to you. The second comes and goes, but you’re still left with his warm breath fanning on your back and sweet kisses trailing up your spine.

Hobi lifts your leg, muttering, “Under mine.” He positions both calves under his thigh and sits you on his lower stomach. His hands retreat off your body and you shiver from the loss of warmth his touch always brings.

You look over your shoulder, curious, and find him lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. He’s eyes lock on your ass. He admires it, studies it’s curves and the way it sits on his abdomen. Meeting your gaze, Hobi smirks.

“Make it clap for me.”

The request has you breathless. It sparks the memory of your question all those moments ago, before things go so hot and heavy. How many times? How many times did he watch that video?

With a shy smile, you turn back around and lean forward, resting your hands on the mattress between his legs. You take a deep breath then shake your ass, the claps subsequently following. Hobi groans behind you. You moan in response. The slow buzzes of the vibrator only heighten the act of shaking your ass over his abs.

With that extra little treat for you, you feel a bit guilty. He’d been showering you with attention and affection. He’s made you cum twice already and all you’ve offered was a sloppy blowjob you couldn’t even follow through with. You want to give him that little extra bit of attention he never forgets to offer you. Ceasing you movements for a second, earning a light spank to continue, you lift your hips.

“I don’t remember you asking for my cock, Starfruit.” His tone is heavy with authority. It only makes it harder to ignore him. “And I sure as hell don’t remember telling you to stop.”

Another smack lands on your ass. This one is harder, stronger and you whimper at the warning. You can’t bear to ignore him any longer, knowing his patience will soon run out. “I just wanted to try something, Hobi.”

He grunts, but doesn’t say much more. You take this as approval to continue and sit your ass just before his cock, pussy resting on his heavy balls. His hands find your hips again, but they don’t grope you like they usually do. Instead, they simply rest there. You interpret this as a precautionary measure, in case you try anything without permission again.

“Do you wanna watch it clap?”

Hobi hums in reponses, thumbs gently rubbing your skin. Leaning forward again, you push your ass back so his cock slips between your cheeks. The gasp that escapes him fills your chest with pride. A smile plays on your lips and you shake your ass once more, cheeks now clapping around his length.

“Innocent, my ass,” you giggle.

Hobi fills the room with that dark chuckle of his. You can hear the amusement of the joke and pleasure of the display from the tone of his voice. He smacks his hands down on your cheeks, helping them move fast around his cock.

“Fucking slut,” he hisses as he tightens his grip. His hips suddenly jolt upwards causing you to almost fall over his lap. Hobi catches you before you slip off his lap, however, and holds you back in place.

He huffs and hisses, moans and groans. You’re sure he’s about to cum, can even feel his cock twitching, but he stops you just before he lets himself go. “I just need to be inside you.”

The desperation in his voice has you giggling. Hobi spanks the laughter out of you, grumbling, “Behave or you won’t cum for the rest of the night.”

You bite back a whine. Shyly looking over your shoulder, you find that wild urge resurface in his gaze again. He must’ve been really close to cumming. Hobi catches your gaze, a wicked smirk tugging on his lips. He reaches for the vibrator’s remote and turns the intensity up. You whimper and pull on the sheets in front of you.

Lifting your hips, you nod at his warning and turn back around. You are met with your reflection from the full-length mirror by your closet. It’s parallel to your bed so you can see yourself sink down on Hobi’s massive cock and watch as well as feel your pussy stretch so fucking well from his girth. “H-Hobi,” you squeal as he guides your hips further down his shaft.

“Hoseok,” he corrects.

You cease all movement, already halfway down his length. The vibrator is still humming loudly in you, only just distracting you from what you’ve just heard. Did he just tell you his real name? He’d been so adamant on keeping it to himself, even refusing to know yours. Yet, here he lies. With his hands secured on your hips and cock ruining you for all other men, perhaps even toys, he tells you his name.

“Is it too much?” He suddenly asks while adjusting his hold on your hips.

You shake your head, breathlessly muttering, “No, it’s perfect.”

It’s not until he’s guiding you back down on him do you realize he was talking about his cock. You suck in a breath and wait until you’ve completely taken in him before whimpering your name. He grips onto your hips tighter and growls. The reaction is enough to fill you with worry. You fear he may not have wanted to know your name, that he only wanted you to scream his.

“(Y/N)”

His moans carry on as you circle your hips around his cock. Each syllable of your name sounds more desperate and greedy than the last. And when you finally switch to bouncing, ass clapping down on his thighs in loud smacks, he growls your name. Over and over again, you’re dripping off the tip of his tongue. All he thinks about is you, all he says is you, all he sees is you.

Ass in bliss, pussy in pleasure, your body meets heaven and your mind overflows with everything Hoseok. You can’t get enough of him or the way he utters your name in that fruity, lively voice of his.

You think this is all the pleasure you need when he sits himself up. He rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand sliding down from your hips to rub your clit while the other slides up. You catch his gaze in the reflection and offer a shy smile before you feel him yank your tank top down once more and expose your breasts.

Bouncing uncontrollably, your tits are all his attention can focus on now. He doesn’t even make a move to grope one of them, too consumed by the way they move to disturb their rhythm. The mere sight of him continuously being mesmerized by you only brings you closer to your high. Your pussy tightens around him again and you can’t ignore the twitch of his cock this time. You giggle at his reflection, drawing his attention away from your tits.

“You’re ready to cum again, Starfruit?”

The smirk he wears is just as deadly as the size of his cock.

You crumble beneath it, whimpering a tiny, “Yes, please, Hobi.”

He kisses your shoulder and nods, as if giving you the approval to cum whenever. Your eyes roll back, moans intensify and body seems to be losing all composure for the third time tonight. You screw your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm nearing but Hoseok replaces his kisses for a little bite on your shoulder. Gasping a moan, you snap your eyes open and meet his gaze once more.

“Look at me,” he orders in a hushed tone. “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

You expected to find that untamed animalistic look in his eyes, or maybe even a barrier of distance to remind you that this is just a one time thing. Instead, you find affection. Within those lust-blown pupils, you find that glowing sunshine-like sparkle of sincerity.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

Just like that, while holding his gaze and getting lost in his eyes, your ograsm overtakes the entirety of your body. Grounding your ass into hips, you shudder, whimper and tear your sheets out from under his legs. You’ve lost the ability to hold that honest gaze of his and completely shatter from the force of your orgasm. Mind whirling, ears ringing, you feel like the wind has got knocked out of you too. Seeing stars, you can’t think straight. All you can feel is him.

And while you’re losing yourself, gushing and convulsing all over him, Hoseok continues to rub harsh circles around your clit and rolls his hips up into yours. He further gets himself off all while helping you ride out your high as well. He groans in your ear as it rings and finally takes to groping your breast again. He grabs at anything, wanting to feel all of you as his dick twitches once more. With your warm cum coating his cock, Hoseok can’t hold himself back any longer. He locks his arms around your waist, holds you still over his hips and releases a heavy load of his cum.

“(Y/N)” he growls as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

You lean your head back against his shoulder. Eyes closed, mouth pouring moans, you revel in the ropes of cum he shoots in you. He fills you up all too well that you know you’ll cry if this is a first and last time occurrence. Your pussy quivers from the nonstop friction, that vibrator in your ass not doing you any favours to slow the process of overstimulation. You tell yourself that the moment Hoseok is done, you’re going to demand that he take that vibrator out and give you a moment to collect yourself before even thinking about another round.

But then he nuzzles his face into your skin and you melt into his frame. You feel him inhale your scent and smile against you. Biting your lip, you force yourself to endure another moment or two of overstimulation if it means he can stay this happy for a little bit longer.

“Ah, shit,” he suddenly mutters into the nape of your neck. “You alright, honey?”

You open your eyes and find him staring at your fucked out reflection with a look of concern. Meekly, you nod but he doesn’t buy it. He unwraps his arms around you and pushes your body forward. You whine and whimper, wanting to fight against it since that angle seems to give a whole new wave of pleasure you’re certain you cannot handle right now.

“Bend over, honey,” he chuckles. “Trust me.”

You moan out of frustration, your ass starting to become just as sensitive to the touch as your pussy is. Still, you know you can trust him, and bend over. “Careful.”

Hoseok kisses your asscheek and mutters, “always,” before gently tugging on the yellow rubber line to pull the star out. He sighs at whatever sight rests in front of him, but you’re all too consumed with recovering from such a hard orgasm. The ringing in your ears has barely stopped and you keep telling yourself that if you keep taking deep breaths you just might be about to settle your heart down and regain your sense of sound.

The buzzing suddenly ceases, a little clatter on your night table momentarily filling the silence. Hoseok then slowly pushes your hips off his softening cock, rubbing your ass in hopes of soothing all those little mewls that leave you.

He then gasps and you can already tell that you won’t like what comes out of his mouth next.

“I know you’re sensitive,” he starts. You whine, already knowing where this is leading. “But, you need to get cleaned up somehow.”

You shudder and grip onto the sheets as a precaution. The ringing in your ears has somewhat settled, but you don’t get comfortable with that fact just yet. After a long whine, you ask, “How do you want me?”

Hoseok breaths a chuckle and you hear him pat a spot next to him. Heaving, you look over your shoulder at the vacant space beside him. You sigh and crawl over there, lying on your back and spreading your legs immediately. Hoseok runs a hands down your torso, watching as you make yourself comfortable on the bed. The two of you work around each other like this is a nightly routine, and you’re not mad about that.

Once you’re settled, he positions himself between your legs and dips his head down to your pussy. You close your legs around his face in an instant, the sensitivity being too much to handle too soon. Hoseok doesn’t care; he works through it. He laps and licks up every part of your mixed cum. Soon, however, his hands get a hold of your thighs and he pulls them apart. He shakes his head as he devours your pussy once more and you find yourself having to tug on his hair to get him off you.

“Hoseok, pl-please!” You whine, attempting to close your legs once more.

Unlatching his lips from your overstimulated pussy with a little wet pop, he sits up and smirks down at your fucked out state. You bring your legs together, cross your ankles and pull your knees into your chest as the last remnants of your orgasm shudders through you.

The bed dips beside you. Hoseok makes himself comfortable. He lies next to you, chest heaving and eyes locked on the ceiling. And once you feel your orgasm finally pass through, you unfold yourself. Your nakedness has never been more apparent to you until now. With lustful desires trickling away, all that remains is the bareness of your bodies and the hovering reality of your emotions.

You shift your weight and pull your comforter over your curves, quickly shielding yourself before he can look over and get another look at you. You freeze all over when he spares you a glance, curious as to what you’re doing. It’s like you didn't just spend the better part of an hour or so screaming his name.

Hoseok smirks, gaze wandering down your covered frame anyways. His eyes don’t need to undress you, knowing exactly what you look like from what angle, yet they still do. He finds your gaze again, breath stabilizing, and mimics your actions. Shifting to get under the sheets, Hoseok asks, “Are you okay?”

The question stunts you. Actually, the fact that he’s still here and not halfway through getting dressed stunts you. You can only stare at him for a moment, your ears regaining full ability and chest ceasing its full rises and falls.

He furrows his brows. Taking your silence as avoidance from the truth, he says, “You can tell me if I hurt you. I’m sorr-”

“Aren’t you leaving?” Your question sounds colder than intended. And the fact that you cut him off to ask it, is not doing you any favours.

Hoseok can only stare back at you, speechless. He chews on his lip and scoffs a dry sigh before you quickly correct your intentions.

“Not that I want you to leave.” A brow of his quirks in interest. “It’s just… I thought that’s what you’d want to do.”

He must see the fear in your eyes, must hear the earnest plea to stay in your voice as he shifts closer to you and tucks an arm under your head. You scoot closer to him too, sweaty bodies colliding once more. Your arms draped over the other’s waist, you pull each other closer. His breath fans over your hot face and you slowly trail your gaze up from his neck to his eyes.

Lips less than an inch apart, Hoseok mutters, “If it’s up to me, neither one of us would ever leave.” He nudges your nose with his, brushing that hoop piercing against your skin.

Your hand slides up to his face, caressing his cheek while your thumb rubs his chin. You want to tell him you feel the same way, that you’d want to be in any moment as long as he’s there with you. But, he seems to read that in your eyes, in the way you hold his gaze shamelessly and flash that shy smile.

Your lips are so close now, you’re exchanging breaths, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. Instead he whispers, “Thirteen.”

You knit your brows as confusion riddles your face.

“You asked how many times I’ve watched your video; thirteen.”

Thirteen. Your mind struggles to comprehend that reality, eyes searching his face for signs of dishonesty. You only find genuineness and a hint of admiration in his eyes and the way he says, “Starfruit; (Y/N).”

“You couldn’t have gotten off that many times,” you scoff.

“I didn’t.”

Your nerves jolt into another heartwarming frenzy as your body freezes over with realization. It’s never been about just sex, it’s never been about cameras and live streams. It’s only ever been about finding the one on the screen, finding the hope you’ve been searching for every time either one of you logs on and scrolls through comments.

“I just came back from an errand. Jin wanted cake and Jimin was too tired to get out.” He suddenly starts, pulling you out of your thoughts. You pause for a moment, realizing that Jin and Jimin have a third roommate. “I was about to go inside when I saw you walk out of your apartment. I honestly couldn’t believe it was you. But I knew it the moment I saw those yellow shorts.”

Your breath hitches and he smiles. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You walked so fast,” he chuckles. “And by the time I figured out what I wanted to say, you were already on the elevator. I was honestly about to just go back inside and forget the entire thing. I even opened the door. I couldn’t go in, though. I just needed to see you one last time.”

He pauses to press a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. You flutter your eyes shut, melting into his existence. He continues, “I ran down the stairs, hoping to catch you before you left. When I saw you checking the mail, I'm not sure what came over me. I pretended to be doing the same thing. I didn’t think you’d be that embarrassed about the video.”

Slowly, you open your eyes and meet his apologetic gaze. Heart swooning, you let out a shaky breath and confess in a quiet mutter, “I don’t want to be a camgirl.”

“What?”

“I sent you that video because I wanted you to notice me again. And you’ve been looking so sad and tired during your lives, I just wanted to cheer you up a bit.”

Hoseok stares, brows knitted, lips parted. You open your mouth to apologize when he presses his lips to yours, engulfing you in a whirlwind of soft gold emotions. You drink in every breath, curling your tongue around his.

“I lied about you being innocent.”

You blink.

“Well, you are innocent but that’s not the reason why I told you not to live stream. I just wanted to keep you to myself.”

“I’m not very happy with the idea of sharing you either.”

“I really like your ass.”

You pause. Your war of confessions hovers over your tangled bodies but all you can do is laugh at his words. He can’t hold back the laughter bubbling from his chest either, and you feel the sweet rumble of his chuckles before you hear them. He gingerly leans in for another kiss but it seems to be more teeth than lips as you two try to laugh through the kiss.

The hand resting on your waist trails down to your ass, rubbing gentle circles around it as your laughter trickles out. You kiss him again, properly and with little tongue so you can focus on the way his lips move against yours.

When he pulls away, he shares his last confession. “I hate streaming.”

You bite back a gasp, chewing on your lips. He takes this as a sign to continue. “I mean, I used to love it. It just seems like more work than it’s worth now. And I want moments like this more often.”

“You’re quitting,” you whisper in realization.

He nods.

You hum, nodding along as everything begins to make sense. You conclude that he must’ve felt this way for a while and that’s why there was a sudden shift in his demeanour.

Pushing his hair back, you softly kiss his cheek and mutter against his skin, “I started watching for Hobi. But, I sent that video to Hoseok.”

Bodies flushed, Hoseok shudders against you. Eyes flutter shut, hearts beat in sync, and as you drift further into this daydream, you hear the lingering words he breathes into your hair.

“You’re an angel, (Y/N). Sweeter than Starfruit.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#bangtanfairygarden #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #btsguild #bangtanhq #btsgoldnet #houseofddaeng #jhope smut #jung hoseok #jung hoseok smut #hoseok smut #hobi smut #jhope x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #magicshopnet

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mochiimiiki · 4 years ago

Text

| Act one: Possibility |

[Xiao x F!reader]

[Pyro vision reader]

Summary: Feelings are something of a concept, humans determine their meaning and everyone else simply accepts. But what if he has no concept of emotions and you’re in denial? What becomes of it then?

Warnings: spoilers for xiao’s story, angst, violence, blood, slow burn

A/N: first time writing a proper fic sooo be nice! also italics are being used for past events!!

Masterlist

- - - - - -

Your encounter was an accident. A mistake, a flaw in the matrix. However, It was a memory you held onto even after all of those years. Staring across Dihua Marsh, your mind couldn’t help but wonder, wonder all the way back to the vigilant yaksha. Whom refused to converse his name. His real name.

It was in the depths of night where the demons lurked, and as an adventurer you often encountered such mutated creatures. It was not your duty to defend the land nor protect the innocent from the midnight stalkers. Yet, you felt obligated to. Perhaps it was a form of misconception or the chivalry in which your father had brought you up with. Nevertheless, you found yourself stalking a possessed abyss mage. In hopes of vanquishing it before the mutant could perform damage upon any civillians.

The moon guided you, luring you to where the beast crept. Through squinted eyes, you could just about see a sleeping village a few hundred metres from where you stood. Determination pumped through your veins, urging you onwards with a singular goal; vanquish your opponent.

In the brief moments that you were distracted the target had vanished. Frantically, you begun searching. ‘Where’d it go...?’ You breathed to yourself. Fear creeping along your spine and infecting your mind.

Suddenly, a cryo shot sent you flying back into a rock. Your back hit it with a thud and the wind was knocked from you. Dazed it took you a moment to adjust your senses. As your vision became focused you quickly rolled out of the way as another cryo shot narrowly missed you. Reaching for your bow you aimed at the abyss mage.

You scoffed. A cryo abyss mage? The fight would be over in no time. Your bow charged quickly and you launched your attack. You jumped with glee, You’d hit the shield directly in a patch you’d grown accustomed to know as a weak spot. However, as the steam cleared from the melt combination you realised you’d done little to no damage. The unsettling anxiety seeped it’s way into your heart once more. “I-Impossible!” You declared, to no one in particular. “I hit you!” The abyss mage let out a low chuckle. It’s sonar voice vibrating off of the trees and rocks that littered your midnight hunt. However, you realised something was off with this mage. Not only was it’s voice an octave lower but a strange black mist eminated from its being. Was it possible this was the kind of creature your father had warned you about...?

Before you got a chance to react the abyss mage launched you backwards once more. This time you landed in the soggy pits of the marsh. You blindly fumbled with your bow attempting to ignite it with your pyro element. However, the dampness of both yourself and the weapon caused evaporate. You silently cursed. No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening not now, not when you were so close. Repeatedly you tried again. Only looking up as you heard the familiar chuckle of your enemy.

Squeezing your eyes shut you begged Rex Lapis to not let your life end so soon. You had so much to learn! So many places to be and you still had to find the truth of...

You thoughts came to an abrupt end.

Suddenly, a gush of wind sped past your face, in turn your eyes shot open. It was just in time too, as you witnessed your saviour.

In the moonlight his hair appeared dark grey and his clothings multiple shades of silver however, black and turquoise mist eminated off of his being. Your eyes widened in shock as one blast of his power shattered the cryo abyss mage’s shield. “EVIL CONQUERING!” He cried throwing it back into the same rock it had once thrown you into.

Pulling enough energy from your damaged body you limped over to your saviour. “You saved me!” Exclaiming in delight. “How did you... no I should be thanking you! Thank-” Yet, before you could continue your praise a final blast of cryo hit you from the dying mage. Falling to the ground you felt your senses dim. Blurry vision caught sight of your masked hero finishing off the job only to finally pass out. A deep, charcoal black enveloping you in an everlasting grip.

- - -

Upon awakening you had found yourself placed in a bed in a familiar building. One you had only viewed on the outside: Wangshu Inn. Clambering out of the comfort of the bed you stumbled to the doorway.

A violet sky was clear from the room in which you occupied. Dim stars twinkled as a rouge sun dawned. You stumbled over to the balcony, confusion clouding your thoughts and erroding the pain.

You collapsed onto the railing of the balcony, thanking the red painted wood for the sturdiness it granted. You glanced out across Dihua Marsh. It’s landscape accentuated by the red light from the dawning sun, her face glowing brightly and guiding adventurers and monsters alike into the unknown.

“What are you doing?” A low voice growled behind you. Instantly you jumped from the disturbance to the peace, immediately after regretting it as a sharp pain jolted through your side. Glancing down your eyes settled upon a bandage wrapped around your waist. You realised the only material shielding you against the harshness of the cool autumn morn was the bandages that started at your chest and ending at your waist. Instantaneously a flush crept over your face and along your neck. “Y-You did this? Pervert!” You shouted, a finger pointing accusingly.

For a moment the boy appeared taken aback before scoffing. “First of all.” He growled taking a menacing step towards you. “I didn’t do that.” He glanced down, taking another step. “Second I saved your life, so even if I had you should have been grateful.” Another step. “And last of all, it was the Inn keeper who helped you. You can thank her later.” He was inches away from you, his brows furrowed in irritation and it was clear your comment had irked him.

You swallowed thickly and uncomfortably. You pushed against his chest, attempting to create distance between himself and you. However, he remained rooted in place. Whether, or not he intended to intimidate you or was simply setting straight facts you were unsure of.

Eventually, he acknowledged your efforts and with a grunt stepped backwards. You tried to steady your thoughts, and clear your mind. Up until now you’d been thinking irrationally and it had ended with you in a critical state.

You opened your mouth to speak once more when with a dismissal of his hand the man spoke first, “Unfortunately, there are other matters that require my assistance. If you’ll excuse me.” Though he seemingly asked for his departure you knew that it was more of a statement than a request. “W-wait!” you cried suddenly, grasping his wrist as he leaped onto the railing of the Wangshu inn.

The man stared puzzlingly at your hand, almost in a way that suggested he’d never been touched by a mortal before. “I didn’t ask your name.”

“I go by many names.” The figure retorted bluntly, an action that caused your hand to retract and your face to drop. With a sigh he spoke once more, his tone etched with a little less aggression. “However, you may call me vigilant Yaksha Xiao. Or for short Xiao. Should you ever need my help, or cannot face killing a monster call my name. I will aid you.”

With that he vanished before your eyes. Taking on the form of shadows and fleeing into the Abyss.

- - -

Staring across the Marsh now it appeared so different. Not only had it been two years since your return to Liyue but it was also daytime upon your arrival, a splintering summer sun sparkled brightly amongst the leaping clouds. It suddenly occurred to you amongst your reminiscing that you had never gazed upon the marsh in the daylight. To bestow it the title of breath taking was an understatement, to simply put it, it was exquisite. How the summer rays of light bounced across the murky waters of the marsh and that they illuminated the once gloomy surroundings. It was a sight to behold, it was beyond enchanting as it bewitched its onlookers and lured them to an untimely death.

“Ma’am?” A voice called for you, intruding your thoughts. She gave you a gentle smile, one you knew was plastered on to appease customers. “Your room is ready madam.” She spoke so softly that had you been immersed in a conversation with another you may not have heard her. You exchanged a polite nod as she led you up the stairs of the Wangshu Inn.

Despite your absence from Liyue for two years the Inn had not particularly changed. It was still lined in the same ruby red railings albeit faded to a salmon blush. And it had the same wooden floors, that creaked and squeaked ever so slightly under foot.

“Here is your room, I hope you enjoy your stay.” Quietly excused the girl as she departed. Leaving you standing alone in the doorway to a room too large to fit a single person.

Hauling in your luggage you flopped down onto the bed. The scent of Fresh linen tickled your nostrils, a particularly summery smell.

As the night progressed you had departed from your room and explored a little more of the grounds belonging to the Wangshu Inn. Fully satisfied with your miniature expedition you retired to the cafe and settled in for a long night.

- - -

The evening wore on tranquility reflected in the expressionless faces of the Inn stayers and keepers alike. As the café grew quieter you had taken it upon yourself to mark out your journey on your map. Small red exes marked the spots of your previous journeys, and although you wanted to pursue the land of the unmarked you had unfinished business to complete in Liyue harbour. Tapping your pencil on the page as you pondered your next move a shout caught your attention. Your quiet night had come to an abrupt end when a face you believed you’d never set your eyes on again appeared before you.

It was the dead of night. The only two souls that remained in the lobby of the Inn were you and the owner’s wife. When suddenly, a third party joined.

In stumbled an extremely battered and bruised man. His hair was knotted in scruffs and a deep gash seeped into the skin in his chest. With a startled cry the woman behind the reception desk ran to his side.

You stared in horror into the cat like eyes of this man. A flash of a familiarity flickered in them, in a brief possibility that he recognised you a bubbling emotion of hope fluttered in your stomach. However, the feeling was all but short lived as his eyes fluttered closed and he collapsed, toppling to the floor. Completely unconscious.

#genshin impact #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin traveler #genshin xiao #genshin zhongli #design #genshin childe #genshin impact xiao #anime #xiao headcanons #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #xiaolumi #xiaoven #zhongli headcanons

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heavenbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

do not adjust your set

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: cyber sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbating, toy use, swearing

Word Count: 2.1k

the working title was “bucky and the cam girl”, so that is essentially the crux of this and i hope you enjoy x

Bucky understood the general anger towards social media, the way the world seemed to form an obsession with it and take away from the essence of real life.

But there are things about it you just cannot fault.

There were menial things he liked, the fact he didn’t have to leave bed to ask Sam to make him a coffee, or the way he could talk to his friends in real-time despite them being on missions a million miles away.

However, there was that one thing that he just couldn’t get over.

The world may not have the flying cars that were promised for the future, but you know what the world did have?

The sweetest little lady, sitting pretty and doing the naughtiest things, right on your screen.

You could keep your flying cars, as far as Bucky was concerned, this was the pride of the future.

It’d been Scott Lang that’d first introduced Bucky to the wonders of internet porn during his immersion into the modern day. In the friendliest nature, he sent him a link and explained the very basics, Bucky picked up the rest on his own.

The videos on the site weren’t exactly, friendly? Most of it was incredibly violent and slightly gross, he wasn’t sure if it was his thing. He liked to get rough with a girl, don’t get him wrong, but something about this just wasn’t doing it.

Bucky wasn’t exactly sure how he stumbled upon cam-sites, but once he did, he realized he’d found his speed. Scrolling through the layers of colorful squares, his eyes glazed over the multitude of beautiful ladies, but none stopped to catch his eye.

He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he knew he was looking for it.

It wasn’t even clear to him what it was about her, but he knew well and good that she’d not only caught his attention, but the hold she already had on him was something wicked.

Bucky fucking loved the internet.

And that was how it went, joining her room in the evening like it was part of a daily routine. Have dinner, wash dishes, go to bed, watch Honey.Ryder in all her glory.

She went by Honey, and Bucky thought that was incredibly fitting. She was sweeter than anything he could’ve conjured up in a dream and when the sunlight hit her through the window? You would’ve thought she was born to the hive, surrounded by workers and royalty.

Honey was more than pretty, beautiful in ways that Bucky hadn’t been taught the words for yet. Her beaming smile that warmed you from the inside out, could drop into a filthy smirk within a moment, turning that warmth into a crackling flame.

Bucky was grateful for pretty girls armed with pink hitachi wands, and the wonders of the 21st century.

Locking his door behind him signified the end of his worries, it was the end of the day and there were no more expectations of him. He was allowed to slip under the covers of his bed and forget everything except a pretty young girl in matching lace.

Undoing the heavy clasp of his belt, Bucky stripped himself of the day’s pressures. He peeled the jeans from his legs, toeing his socks off in the process. His fingers gripped the neck of his shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it in the pile.

He brought his hands down his face, a deep sigh leaving his body, making him feel almost new. This part of his day was almost ritualistic, but it was almost imperative, without it he’d be strung up and unbearable.

Sliding between his sheets, he pulled his laptop up the bed towards him. He had her page saved under a folder called “instruction manuals” because Bucky had no idea how to put a password on his laptop.

Somehow he had managed to learn how to tip on this cam-site, but even that was a miracle for him. Thankfully he had learnt, because Honey became simply delightful whenever that tipping bell sounded. He’d give up his life savings if it meant he’d always get to provoke those kind of reactions from her.

Honey lit up his screen in shades of red lace, the dim lighting of his room taking on a rosy hue. Perched up on her knees, she lent towards the camera so all those in the chatroom had the most perfect view down her bra.

“Good evening, how are we all doing tonight?” The lilt of her voice was enough to have Bucky stirring in his boxers.

The other members were quick to type out their responses, Bucky wasn’t one for that, he was there to hang back and throw around his money. He was well aware of the fact this was a one sided arrangement, as much as she drove him wild, he knew she was here for one thing only.

As warped as it might sound, the thought of her taking his money and spending it on herself? That wound him up something wicked.

The minute Honey began to put on her show, Bucky wasn’t able to stop himself from gently running his fingertips along the tense muscle of his torso. He could feel the skin rising in bumps in the wake of his touch, the hardening in his briefs a direct result.

Honey’s voice trailed through the speakers with notes of praise, dripping in arousal as she dragged the straps of her bra down her shoulders. Bucky’s eyes followed the path as he slowly moved his hand closer to where he ached for her.

She sat up, shoulders back to accentuate the curve of her body. Bucky’s mouth damn near watered at the sight of her, heaven sent and always righteous. Her fingers trailed up her side, pushing her chest up until it was threatening to leave the confines of her bra.

Watching her remove the clothing, Bucky gripped himself tight through his briefs, involuntarily thrusting up into his palm. The way she gripped at herself, tweaking on her nipples and whimpering so gently at the feeling. His free hand found its way to the “tip” button.

CallMeSarge has tipped $25

Honey’s eyes lit up as she heard the bell, before her lids dropped into a feverish gaze. He knew she was looking at the lens of a camera, but if he didn’t know any better he’d think she was looking into his soul.

“Thank you so much, Sarge,” The name rolling off her lips like a sigh. “It’s always good to see you.”

He’d never admit it, but the sentiment made Bucky’s chest tighten in an instant. Honey drifted her fingers along the band of her red hot panties, toying with the elastic as she rose up on her haunches.

“Because you’re always so kind, I want you to choose how I take off my panties, Sarge.”

Bucky nearly choked on his tongue, fingers scrambling to type out his message. He wrote it and re-wrote it a couple of times before finally being able to get his fantasy out.

“lying on your back with your legs in the air, please”

Her eyes sparkled at the kind-hearted command, slowly nodding in agreement with his words.

“Sir, yes sir.” She giggled, left eye dropping down into a wink.

What would’ve been a throwaway comment for her, strummed a chord deep within Bucky that had his hips raising straight up into his hand. A wet spot was forming against the crotch of his briefs, cock aching to be released from the confines.

Honey gently lent back, kicking her legs into the air until her face was out of frame. Her pussy was barely covered by the scandalous fabric and you didn’t have to strain to see the way she was already dripping.

Looping her fingers in the sides, she brought the garment down over her ass, trailing it up along her thighs. Soon her sweet little cunt came into view of the camera, glistening in the lights of her room.

Peeling the along her body, she unhooked them from around her foot and tossed them off to the side. Gripping a thigh in each hand, she spread her legs apart until they were nearly against her chest. Bucky immediately dipped his hand into his briefs, placing a firm grip around his cock.

She rolled back up to sitting, legs still spread to give a good view of her pussy. Soon her other viewers flooded the chat with tips, the sound ringing out every couple of seconds. Bucky didn’t mind, it allowed him to fall back into the crowd, an encouraging donation every now and then.

He focused on the way his fist felt as it twisted along his length, fingers rolling up and over the head as he watched her. She reached beside her and brought that pink wand, switching it on until the low rumble of the vibration was a background noise.

Honey lay it down on the bed, kneeling over it until the head of the toy was positioned at the meeting of her thighs. Sitting down against it, she let out a sharp gasp as the vibrations moved straight through her.

Bucky sped up the movement of his hand to match the rolling of her hips against the toy. She rode it steadily, soft cries and moans steadily slipping past her lips as she bounced on it.

Her hands ran back up along her sides, cupping her breasts as she thrashed her hips under the pressure. Bucky let his other hand leave the tipping system for a moment, coming to cup his balls and roll them around his fingers.

His stomach was still tightening, which every stroke of his hand he felt the heat spread across his lower body. His thighs tensed as nerve in his body was being touched at every moment.

Honey cried out, head tipping back and pussy quivering at the overwhelming sensation seated below her. She brought two of her fingers to her mouth, dipping them past her lips and wrapping around them. Sucking the digits, the sounds were muffled by the motions.

Bucky stuttered an embarrassing moan, the sight of her pretty lips pouted around her fingers. You couldn’t blame him for imagining it was his cock, perched against her tongue and dripping wet as she gagged on him.

He knew her fingers would feel better than his, they’d grip his cock and rub along the sensitive vein so tenderly. She’d be the one with a handful of his balls, her tongue would twist around them and that fuse within him would burn to the hilt before eruption.

“I’m-I’m gonna-oh fuck,” Honey’s breathing stuttered as her fingers fell from her mouth and gripped at her breast.

The grip on Bucky’s cock got tight, Honey tight. His back arched back off the pillows as his head tipped to the wall. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, choking back the cries that desperately wanted to fall into open air.

She tipped her head forward, moans naturally rolling off the tongue as her hips bucked wildly against the head of the wand. Her free hand gripped the blanket, balling it up in her fist as she fell back of the toy.

Legs spread and hand at her clit, she quickly rubbed her fingers as her back continued to rise off the bed. Her toes were curling and jaw slacked as she came with the most bewitching whine.

Bucky delivered one more tip before his tension snapped, ropes of white painting his closed fist as he watched the girl unravel in front of him. His chest heaved as he shook with his release.

Honey, as always, was painted with an almost glow at the aftermath of her high. Skin as sweet as honey, worth all the riches in the world.

Sparring with Sam in the gym, Bucky heard the interruption of Tony giving the grand tour to his new assistant. Tony had told everyone about her, but if he was being honest, he didn’t really take in a whole lot of what Tony said these days.

“And here you’ve got the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.”

Bucky straightened up and turned to face the two, immediately his throat grew dry at the sight in front of him. Honey was standing beside Tony, picking up a side job shuffling his papers.

She gave them both that sweet smile he’d seen so many nights before, a shy hand raising to offer a wave. Sam stepped forward to take the hand to shake.

“Please, just call me Sam.”

Bucky stepped forward to shoulder him.

“And you can call me Sarge.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut

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liptonsbabe · 4 years ago

Text

The light is coming [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Lexington! reader

Chapter 1

Summary: The power of the Dark Lord shakes the entire magical community to its foundations, no one is safe as Lord Voldemort is so strong and the boy who lived becomes weaker; The magnanimous Order of the Phoenix is in dire need to gather all its members and even to recruit wizards beyond the borders of the community.

Albus Dumbledore knows that amidst the reign of darkness, the light will return to restore all that it took and bring with it extraordinary powers, even if it leaves an aftermath that cannot be erased. The Order of the Phoenix will need all the help it can get, including the help of the mythical (Y/N) Lexington.

Harry Potter's parents were not the only ones killed by the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: none

A/N:Hi! A new Bill’s fanfic for you all. This story is finished so if you like this part let me know so and i’ll update as soon as i can! Again, reader’s last name is Lexington but is just for the plot of this story

English not my mother language so please don’t kill me. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Order Of The Phoenix

Charlie and Bill Weasley had returned from their jobs abroad with the only purpose of duly serving the Order of the Phoenix commanded by Albus Dumbledore. For Bill it hadn’t been a sacrifice to return home, things in Egypt were not going at all well and he only asked for his transfer to an English office to work and at the same time help the Order. It wasn’t the same for his brother Charlie, cause he had to leave all his errands in Romania along with all his beautiful dragons.The journey to Grimmauld Place had been complicated cause, despite not missing anything from the countries they were returning from (with the exception of Charlie's dragons) they could quickly get used to the quiet, anti-Voldemort pace of life that the English magical community was vitiated by.

Both brothers were welcomed by their mother Molly Weasley, with tears in her eyes she hugged them as tightly as she could inviting them into the farthest room possible. Bill remembered Grimmauld Place very vaguely, the only time he set a foot inside the house was when Dumbledore asked him to help him clear the rooms and turn them into curse free spaces where they could quietly discuss classified Order business.

No matter how many times they cleaned that place, the old house of Black would always remain with that grayish appearance and the musty smell of worn wood. Sirius didn't seem to have any intention of renovating its fallen parts - of which there were quite a few - but seemed to enjoy watching the house fall apart. Be that as it may, Bill thought that any place was a good place to plan the crazy moves Albus Dumbledore had in his head.

The room was filled with people Bill had met before through letters his mother sent him informing him of the Order's progress, Dumbledore thought the best way to gain the upper hand against Voldemort's dark army was to recruit wizards who were willing to give their lives to protect the magical community. Surprisingly more people arrived than Bill could have imagined in addition to all those wizards and witches who had already been part of the association for years.

Taking a seat by the door, Bill and Charlie recognized the silhouette of Nymphadora Tonks. Not that it was very difficult to recognize her as her short, straight, bubblegum pink hair stood out among all the others. The metamorphmagus managed to acknowledge the newcomers sending them a warm smile before gluing her gaze on the door.

Charlie elbowed his brother's shoulder

“Dumbledore and his crazy schemes making us come here just for the Order business....”

“It was necessary," Bill cut him off, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, "Do you even know what's going on with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, don't you?” Charlie shook his head “it’s a real mess and you'd know it if you didn't spend so much time with your dragons.

“Don't bring them into this”

“They're some of them now?”

“Yeah, we got a shipment of Peruvian Vipertooths in this month and oh, brother, they're beautiful!”

“Wait” Bill frowned ”Those things doesn’t eat people?

“well yes, but that's only part of their diet, they also feed on goats and cows. We keep them in a cage near the forest because that species was supposedly exterminated after being considered dangerous to wizards and muggles alike, but I think they're beautiful”

Charlie's eyes sparkled and Bill couldn't help thinking that he was the odd one among his siblings. His admiration for dragons frightened him even though he found it adorable at times.

“You know, I'm not surprised you're still single. Knowing you as i do, you'll end up marrying one of those dragons or in the worst case, eaten by one”

Charlie didn't like his older brother's comment.

“What about you? As far as I know, you're not dating someone either”

Charlie's sudden criticism made him clear his throat and settle better in his seat. When they looked over at Tonks, they noticed that she was still staring at the door. Charlie hurried him to answer his comment.

“I met someone” His brother's blue eyes widened, amazed “I mean, we met in Egypt, she was traveling and we only went out a couple of times, nothing important.

“That's what you always say, William” Charlie looked at him mischievously ”No one seems to be good enough for you, huh? Or are you still thinking about someone since our childhood?”

Bill knew what his brother was trying to do and immediately shook his head. He had had this adolescent love for a girl who had left to France without anyone knowing the reasons why. Bill was totally hooked on her, yet the disappointment of her being thousands of miles away from him had broken his heart in a way he couldn't explain. Charlie knew about it, because he was the only one of his siblings who was old enough to understand; still, that didn't take away from the fact that he made fun of her misfortune a couple of times.

“Shut it”

Albus Dumbledore brought an end to everyone's conversations after standing up and clapping his hands a couple of times to get their attention. With a sincere smile, Dumbledore dimmed the lights in the room to reveal dozens of candles levitating all over the place. Bill fell silent and looked at the man

“I know that most of you here had to pause your activities just to attend this extraordinary meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, and for that I want to thank you," Dumbledore smiled at them, "We are fully aware of what is happening in the magical community thanks to the terrible presence of Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore ignored the shrieks of amazement from the audience “That leaves me with the advantage of not having to explain what is obvious to you, so the important thing about this assembly is to make it clear that, despite the magnificent increase in our membership over the past few days, we are still in the minority against the Dark Lord's ranks”

The murmurs grew louder and louder, causing Dumbledore to ask for everyone's calm.

“This doesn’t mean that your help is in vain, what I am trying to say is that we need more wizards and witches to join the Order”

“Where will we get more people?”Asked a witch wearing a yellowish hood on her head, "People are afraid, they're not going to join the Order just like that”

“We'll try to convince them," Dumbledore said calmly. "Of course, all of those who want to join will have to undergo proper training.

“So you're asking for more Aurors?”Minerva McGonagall asked. Professor Dumbledore smiled broadly

“Indeed”

The hubbub in the room intensified for a couple of minutes before Albus Dumbledore called for silence. Bill agreed with everyone that this was sheer madness. It was practically impossible for aurors to enter something as sensitive as the Order of the Phoenix - with the exception of Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody, Bill thought those two were insane - without them reporting every movement of Order members to the Ministry. Yes, the aurors were the best trained people for this kind of work, however, they were the hardest to convince

“Why don't we just make Harry a part of the team?”Asked Sirius from the middle of the room. Molly Weasley let out a shriek of indignation.

“What are you talking about? Harry's just a boy!”

“Molly, please, the boy knows more about this situation than any of us put together!”

“Even so, it's still dangerous for him”

“It is for everyone. I don't see what difference it makes if Harry is in on it, that way he'd have more support from the Order and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would stay away from him”

-If it is true what Sirius says," Dumbledore interjected, "It's no less true that Harry can't be a member of the Order yet. Not until he fixes the problem he has with the ministry after he used magic in front of a Muggle trying to ward off the Dementors that are getting closer and closer to non-wizards. Right now Harry should be being moved to this place to stay at least until the new school year begins.

“And in the meantime what are we going to do?” Severus Snape asked. Bill raised his eyebrows, noticing how Nymphadora Tonks raised her hand to give her opinion.

“I hope this isn't too hasty, but I've been sending some letters to Beauxbatons College in France in search of a response from the Aurors. It is well known that none of them have been willing to give us their help, but this afternoon I received a letter from one person who is willing to help us in any way she can," Tonks looked at everyone before continuing, "I know that one person doessn’t represent a great addition to our ranks, but I am absolutely certain that she is our best option”

Bill's eyes flicked from Nymphadora to Dumbledore repeatedly. He had that strange feeling that Dumbledore knew who she was referring even though she hadn't said the name yet. Dumbledore nodded a couple of times asking Tonks to continue. She cleared her throat

“She should be here soon”

“We’ll wait patiently”

Dumbledore's nod wasn't necessary cause seconds later the door flung wide open letting in the light from the main corridor. Bill glanced at the newcomer noting your expensive French clothes and your perfectly coiffed hair in a ponytail. His breath quickened as he took a close look at your face and recognized those features he remembered from when he was a teenager. A quick glance at Charlie was enough to confirm that what he saw was not an illusion.

The whole room rose to their feet, and as you entered the room raising your hands to the sky, the room was filled with a bright light that caused everyone to take cover before it blinded them permanently. Bill caught a glimpse of Tonks' pleased giggle before you reached Dumbledore giving him a handshake as a greeting while keeping the light alive with your opposite hand.

Your wand was in your jacket pocket and from your hands an endless fountain of light gushed forth, bringing peace to the members of the order.

The mythical (Y/N) Lexington didn’t needed a wand to have magic.

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagines #bill weasley x reader #domhn #domhnall gleeson imagine #domhnall gleeson x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter cast #charlie weasley #fred weasley imagines #order of the phoenix

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 4 years ago

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Hello there! Can I request a Legolas x reader oneshot where the reader suffers from an injury, and Legolas being the best friend takes care of them? Fluff pleasee. Thankyou <3

Safe With Me

---

It happened during the Battle at Helms Deep.

There was death, pain, anguish, and sorrow everywhere. No matter where you turned or where you looked, someone somewhere was suffering (either from the pain of death, grief, or fear).

You've always been confident in your fighting skills; you know that you're good and can hold your own in a fight, but 'holding your own' paired with protecting others never seems to end well.

Those fools thought it better to put weapons in the hands of children rather than the shield maidens who hide down below in the caverns, and though it does make sense that they would be the last line of defense, surely they could still spare some women instead of forcing the children to pick up their slack?

Even so, it's because of this decision that you're in your current state of injury.

After the wall had been blown to bits and everyone began their retreat to the inner levels of Helms Deep, you tried to gather everyone you possibly could.

Being as you're a rather skilled fighter, having trained from a very young age within the confines of Mirkwood, you managed to save a good deal of men and slay an excellent number of orcs, but there is a limit to your victories.

With each stroke of your short swords do orcs fall; every slash and stab reaching a mark that leaves the orc army with one less ally. Try as they might to overwhelm you, you're just too quick for them, so their blows remain useless for the most part (though you do get the occasional cuts and slices that leave you hissing in pain).

You're in the midst of battling those nasty orcs 4 on 1 when it happens. Having been doing all you possibly could to keep the numbers off of the unskilled and dying men and young boys, you begin to focus more attention ahead than behind you, and one of those foul creatures manages to run up on you and finally get in a proper hit.

The initial blow is easy for you to dodge, for you feel its' presence lingering behind you, but you quick duck prevents you from escaping the lower blow dealt to your right leg.

As soon as the blade makes contact with your calf you know you're done for.

The deep slash causes your leg to give out from underneath you and you collapse to one knee, left crying out in shock and pain as your arms grow weak.

Very vaguely do you hear someone yell your name, your sharp elf ears enhancing your hearing so that it may reach you, but you can't turn to look.

In your downed state the enemy begins to overwhelm you, so you push your pain away and drop back as another blade comes swiping above your head, an action that would've taken your head with it had you not moved in time.

You jab your sword up and impale the closest creature, muscles shaking and aching as it goes lax and slumps over towards you.

Your energy wanes quickly, and the heavy, dead orc only further drains what little fight you have left in you.

There is no time for you to reclaim your blade from the body of the dead monstrosity, so you're forced to release your beloved short sword and strategically roll away from the other oncoming attacks, and while it does prove to serve you well, you're now left injured and with only one of your weapons.

The imbalance caused by losing one of your short swords is an alien feeling, for you always have both to fight with, and on rare occasions, neither.

Another one of those dastardly abominations comes for you in when it sees your hasty retreat and weakening form and tries to stab you, but you role low to the ground and knock it off of its' feet, jabbing your remaining sword down into his belly as soon as he's at your level.

Fighting so low to the ground, unable to stand is no easy task, and very quickly are you overtaken again.

A large armored foot comes up and hits you right in the face, and you go down with it having been unable to react in time.

You fall back and land none too gently on your aching spine, and in mere moments is your left shoulder run through and pinned to the ground.

The unnatural feeling of the intruding weapon in your shoulder draws a pained cry from between your parted lips, and you find that you can no longer move that arm (if it were any bigger of a blade, you would've lost the arm altogether), so you rely on the other weaponed arm to stop the killing blow.

With the last of your strength, you jab your sword upwards and stab it through the chest, relishing in the telling squelch and screech as metal and flesh alike are ripped to nothing, and then the wriggling creature stills and slumps heavily atop you.

It's heavy and knocks the wind out of you completely, an unwelcome and suffocating feeling, and you'll later learn that this saves your life.

Moments later, your world fades to black.

---

You were so sure that it was all over. That, while you tried your hardest, you failed.

The last thing you remember was the horrible pain blooming from your shoulder and the blade protruding from your broken and battered body, and then the newly dead orc falling on top of you followed by complete and utter darkness.

The bodies of man and orc alike littered the very ground you once stood on and the enemy was gaining more ground than you had to spare, so when you did finally wake up to see color again, you thought yourself to be dead just like all those around you.

Only, you didn't quite anticipate that the Halls of Mandos would allow you to feel the pain and anguish of your past life.

A quick look around tells you that you are, in fact, not actually in Valinor, for one of the very first sights you see is that of a dim wooden ceiling and your body laid out of a bed of mans creation.

Pain is the first thing you feel once the anesthetic of unconsciousness wears off, and it's quite the pain alright.

A quiet, agonized groan puffs past your chapped lips and your teeth clench together in tandem with your soft whimpers.

You try to sit up, slowly raising your upper body from the bed, when a fresh pang of pain shoots through your shoulder and pins you back down to the bed.

Instead of trying to get up this time, you just angle your head down and analyze your shoulder wound.

It's at this moment that you realize that your outer layer has been removed (probably cut away), and you're left with nothing but the gauze wrapping your shoulder and a covering for your modesty.

When you look further down you see that your cut up calf has been treated much the same, and the only missing layer is that single leg of your trousers.

Your vision suddenly goes blurry and you're forced to squeeze your eyes shut again, but this time when they open, there is another presence in your line of sight.

It takes a few seconds for you to recognize the person hovering above you, but as soon as you do a small smile up turns the corners of your lips.

"Legolas..." Uttering that single name takes quite a bit of energy from your already bone dry reservoir, but you don't regret it for even a moment.

Those sparkling pools of blue shine with relief when your whispered speech reaches his ears, and as soon as he's there does he disappear from your immediate vision.

"I thought you were never going to awaken." He breathes, leaning over you once again with a damp towel in hand this time. "Tell me, how is the pain?"

The towel is most likely to keep you from overheating, though you can't feel any sort of cold or hot like other mortal beings, and you appreciate it greatly.

Your voice is barely a whisper when you reply, and it makes his elven heart throb in his chest with many emotions. "Painful?" Truthfully, it's a rather intense suffering that makes it hard for you to even think straight, but you don't wish to worry him any more than you already have. "Nothing that I cannot handle, I believe."

"That look in your eyes betrays a different story." He counters softly, reaching down to graze your too-warm cheek gently. "I will have to change your dressings soon. But I'm not so sure you will want to be awake for that."

An alluded to promise of pain much worse than what you currently suffer, something you seldom wish to experience, though it's not like you can just pass out on command.

"I will have one of the healers prepare for you a sleeping elixir, should you agree to have it."

"What of the others? Surely I am not the worst of the wounded. You should conserve what you can." The words leave you even though you don't necessarily want to abide by them, but you don't take it back either. If you could prevent pain from anyone else, then you would. There's no guarantee that you'll react promisingly to it any ways.

"There is plenty to go around. Do not worry yourself over others for the time being and allow me to help you." Those words don't make you feel any better.

If there is an abundance, then that means there haven't been enough wounded to use it (and not from a lack of injury either).

A moment of silence washes between the two of you, and then in that same delicate whisper of yours do you ask, "How many...?"

Hesitation rears its' ugly head and morphs his pleasant stare into a sorrowful, crestfallen frown, and it promises you nothing good.

"Too many. But we must worry about that later when you have regained your strength and replenished your health. Please, rest." His places his hand over yours, touch as soft and careful as a feather, and he says no more on the matter. "I shall-"

"Please, don't leave." You plea before you can engage your filter, curling your fingers around the warmth of his own, "I cannot handle the solitude right now."

He hesitates once more but does not require further prompting, for he takes the seat next to your bedside and sits down. "Then I will stay right here with you."

Your head tilts to the side to look over at him and the smallest of smiles brightens your pale face, "Thank you, Legolas. You've always done well by me."

"For you, my friend, I would do anything. This is nothing."

You're in good hands being left in his charge, and this thought lulls you into a pleasant, painless sleep.

#ask box #ask #legolas x reader #legolas greenleaf #legolas #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings #reader insert #platonic #angst #comfort #fluff #tolkien

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kareofbears · 3 years ago

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plainly in truth, chapter 4/5

“Without you around, it’s sorta like stuff is just kinda…bleh.”

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut

Niijima Makoto doesn’t know what she’s doing.

It’s rare, but it happens. Sometimes she doesn’t understand the material in university. Sometimes the trains close down before she can catch the last one. Sometimes she has a breakdown because what does it mean that the system that got her father killed is the same one that she’s working so hard to get into.

But there’s always a way to find a solution—ask the professor after lecture. Call Sae and, as humiliating as it was, ask for a ride home. Convince herself that maybe she’s what the system needed in order to get real change. (She’s not quite there yet.)

She doesn’t know what she’s doing with Ryuji, and the internal tug-of-war is almost getting too much for her.

Makoto can help him; how many students has she worked with to help get them back on their feet? But each of those students she had tutored wanted help—she didn’t need to convince them to focus on school. How do you convince someone to get academic help? Duct tape them to a chair and show them a PowerPoint about how their life can fall apart if they don’t take this seriously? Then she’d be blatantly ignoring his mental struggle, and be no better than the adults who want to push kids through a meat grinder that’s the education system and turn them into mindless workers, existing solely to earn them profit.

Then she can leave him alone. That’s what he wants, anyway, and it’s by far the simplest option.

However, if she leaves him alone, would that mean that she’s still the same person who let Shujin students sell themselves to Kaneshiro? Convinced that they can handle it on their own, but only letting their debts pile higher and higher on themselves until they get crushed?

Sudden laughter and shouting from behind pulls Makoto back to reality. They were all in a heated game of Tycoon, and it sounds like Akira’s been on a winning streak for the past half hour.

She grips the steering wheel tighter, forcing herself to focus on the road and not the whirlwind of thoughts. The highway is nearly empty, despite the sun being high in the sky, not a single cloud blocking its rays. They’re on their way to Okinawa, and it’s her turn to drive.

Makoto may not know what she’s doing, but she can at least do this.

—

Okumura Haru has always had a bit of a guilt complex.

It started with refusing to give her hand to an abusive man for her also abusive father’s business, and it had only escalated even further once she realized that it’s technically her fault that her father had been killed; that one in particular had been crippling. Not only because he died due to her poor decision making, but it was another reason why the Thieves had fallen for Shido’s trap last year.

She respects herself enough now to understand that most of it is misplaced, but it doesn’t erase any of the guilt she still carries today. Far from it—that guilt has only grown to be bigger, looming over her as if it were ready to consume every inch of her body and spit out a bag of bones.

This situation, though, she can’t help but feel that her guilt isn’t quite as misplaced as she likes to convince herself it is.

They were all having lunch at the ferry’s restaurant; it’s small, given how little people want to go all the way out to Okinawa, but it’s still selling ludicrously overpriced coffee and pastries. Nobody seems to mind, though. All of them were sharing one cheese omelette, each with a plastic fork in hand, tapping them against each other to get the best piece and assert dominance like animals at a watering hole.

A way to soothe guilt is to somehow find a way to remedy the situation. Employees of Big Bang Burger have been unionized, her father is now remembered for the man he was rather than the man he became, Sugimura has long since been a problem (how he stopped being a problem, she legally cannot speak about), and Shido isn’t even in the public’s conscious anymore.

But for Ryuji, there is no way to soothe that guilt. Not in a way that matters.

It’s not just because Haru had essentially been the reason why too many people know his secret, but because the secret should have never happened in the first place. She’s his senpai, she was supposed to be the one looking out for him. Ryuji was struggling, mentally and academically, and she hadn’t realized it until it was far too late. He had been there for her, ready to knock Sugimura’s teeth into his throat, but she couldn’t have done the same for him when it truly mattered.

How do you soothe that guilt? Buy out the entire school? Forge his grades? More cram books? That’s ridiculous.

There’s no way to soothe that guilt, she realizes, because the only real way to do that was to turn back time.

—

Kitagawa Yusuke understands pride better than most people.

Without a cent to his name for most of his life, pride was all he had. Pride of being the pupil of someone great, pride of turning money away in the name of art. Being able to withstand enormous pressure and stick to his guns has always been one of his strongest abilities.

They’re in the Okinawa jail, tearing through Shadows and screaming Sophia’s name, over and over again until all of their throats are torn raw. He calls for Goemon, and ice crawls over the narrow corridors of the facility like ants covering every inch of a buffet. They’re all strong, because they have to be, but the Shadows here are cunning; fast and magic-infused, drunk on the strange, thick air that’s bled into every inch of cement in this building.

But pride can be an unforgiving catalyst that can change you from the inside out, like a parasite hijacking your brain stem and compels you to bow down to it. He had refused to see the truth, turned a blind eye to the evils of his sensei, and it made him into a lesser version of himself. It had made him weaker.

A crack of lightning strikes, emanating light so bright that he instinctively raises a hand to block it out. When it dims, any smell of the cold, dry air is gone—in its place is the distinct scent of ozone wafting around him, and a light buzz that settles atop his skin like a second layer. The hair on his nape stands, but Yusuke’s positive it didn’t come from the electricity still buzzing from the ashes of the Shadows.

Ryuji had obliterated all of their foes with one, clean strike.

—

Takamaki Ann can tell that something’s off.

Her toes are buried deep in hot sand, taking refuge under their big umbrella. The sun is just about setting over the horizon, casting an orange glow on her skin, and she idly hopes that she had put on enough sunscreen. They’ve tired themselves out for the most part; some were taking naps on beach towels, some had retired back to the RV where air conditioning awaits them.

Only Akira and Ryuji were left, standing where the sand meets the tide, water lapping at their ankles. She couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but she recognized the look on Akira’s face—with his glasses hanging from his button up, his eyes sparkled brighter than the ocean does, not quite smiling but his lips are curled up as if unable to completely restrain itself. It’s the look he reserves for Ryuji.

She digs her feet deeper into the sand, enjoying the way it tickles her calves. Ann’s been thinking about this whole thing in her head ever since she found out the truth, and something just isn’t adding up.

As absolutely insane as it all is, if she closes one eye, tilts her head, and slams her head against a wall, she can sort of, kind of, maybe understand where he’s coming from. She’s known him too long not to. The whole actively lying to his friends thing is still unforgivable, but the need to hide it? Understandable. She barely scraped by second-year herself with a prayer and English-speaking parents, and even then her grades are nothing to write home about.

Ann could barely believe that Ryuji really thought that Akira would leave him over something as stupid as flunking school, but even that she can understand, too. Everyday, she wants to be a better person for Shiho, and everyday, she goes to bed thinking that she didn’t try hard enough. Ann gets it. Love screws with your brain, swirls it up until you can barely stand up straight, and definitely messes with your perception of yourself. Ridiculous, crazy, but still somewhat coherent.

There’s still one piece in this whole puzzle that hasn’t clicked yet, and it’s been bugging her ever since that night in the cafe.

As perceptive as he is, as smart and observant and unstoppable as he is, as kind and knowledgeable as he is, as much as he adores Ryuji to the moon and back—

Why hasn’t Akira said anything yet?

—

Sakura Futaba knows that something’s off.

As the navigator, she sees everything she needs to make sure her team makes it out of every battle alive and victorious. Necronomicon can see stuff that no one else can, can predict two, three, four moves before it can happen. She eats stats for breakfast and spits out results by second breakfast. She knows her team’s moveset like the back of her hand and then some. Futaba takes this seriously, because if she doesn’t, someone’s not walking out alive.

The best part is that she’s good at this. So good that the eternal worrywart, Joker himself, can still walk out of the Metaverse with a head of thick, black hair.

But something’s been off. She felt it in her bones and that feeling only gets more prominent with every passing Jail—no, not even Jail. With every battle, that feeling only gets stronger in her gut.

When it started is still a mystery to her, but she started picking up on it in Sapporo. Sapporo. Her mom told her never to pray, but by god she’s hoping that it started in Sapporo, because this—this thing, is too big to have missed.

Futaba isn’t sure what it is yet, but she has no idea what’s happening with Ryuji.

To be more specific, she has no idea what’s happening with Captain Kidd, but that’s basically the same thing; Personas are the extension of the user, I am thou, et cetera. The weirdest part is, she knows something’s off, but she doesn’t know if it’s necessarily a problem.

It’s as if Ryuji’s been hitting the gym while they weren’t looking, or giving Kidd a stern talking to. His attacks, which used to be around the same baseline as the rest of the team, is nearly outputting double the amount of damage than the rest of them. His hits are buffed to the wazoo on a level she’s never seen before in any other Persona user, even Akira.

She’s considered bringing it up with him dozens of times. The two of them have to be honest with each other, not because they love and respect each other or any of that bullcrap—it’s because it’s the only way anything can ever function in the team. Between the navigator and the leader, if they ever hide anything from the other, no matter how small, things would never run smoothly. Or worse: it’ll crash and burn.

And then Ryuji comes along and makes them all take a blood oath to never, ever tell Akira a really big secret.

Technically, she doesn’t see an issue with it. It’s more of an unspoken rule than any kind of signed contract, and it’s mostly about Metaverse stuff instead of real world problems. She’s not eagerly telling Akira about her private Pixiv account or anything. But it’s not impossible to think that Ryuji being strong enough to be wearing ten Gilded Vests stacked on top of each other is somehow connected to his very real, very heart-affecting situation. If she really thought it was a problem, she’d tell Akira right away. It’s better to have Ryuji hate her than to have him dead.

But when she sees Akira’s face flash with relief in Akane’s Jail when Ryuji all but annihilates a mega-super-high level Shadow, one that Akira’s been stressing about the entire time since they’ve been here despite him trying his best to act cool about it because he has to be, it’s kinda hard to consider this to be a problem at all.

—

Between Konoe’s attacks and relentless bolts of ions getting shot up every few seconds, the static is so thick in the air that their hairs are all frayed and heading skywards.

The blast from Konoe’s mech, once a symbol of their triumph and had pulled no small amount of whoops and cheers from their throats, is only the first stage of their fated battle. They hadn’t planned for an extra phase, and the only reason they were able to escape was that steam from the busted metal and machinery had given them a few seconds of cover.

All of them are huddled behind a wall, outlined with neon blue that only served to blend them in with the futuristic technicholar that is the Osaka Jail.

“We’re clear,” Makoto announces, voice low as she returns from peeking around the corner. “No chance he knows our location.”

“Thank you Queen,” Akira says, mask pushed far up his head, clear eyes rapidly checking over each of his teammates, nodding. “Good work out there with the mech, now let’s figure this one out. What do we know?”

“Not a lot,” Futaba’s goggles reflect data as her fingers dance over the screen. “If we assumed that his weaknesses would be the same as his mech, then it would be lightning and nuclear.”

“Only if we assume that his physical form reflects his robotic form,” Yusuke points out. “What are the odds that that’s the case?”

Morgana taps his paw on the ground, deep in thought. “High, I’d say. Remember, he didn’t even think anyone could actually get into his Jail. He was worried enough to give himself two forms, but I doubt he’d go much deeper than that in terms of protection.”

“Look, my math might be a little off,” Ryuji starts. “But it’s literally a ten-on-one, right? I vote we kick his ass from the get go.”

Akira grips his arm. “Don’t. It might be a ten-on-one, but I don’t want to be walking out of here with only nine or less. We take this slow, like we always do.”

“...Fine.”

“What I’m worried about is that big sword of his,” Ann says grimly. “It looks like one hit from that thing I can kiss my entire torso goodbye.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Eyes flickering to Futaba, Akira asks, “Possible defenses?”

“I’m not seeing anything special from it other than it’s huge and sharp and could kill us if he really wanted to, which, he does. So it looks like it’s physical, unless he has something up his sleeve.”

“Which he probably does, because that’s just how things usually go for us,” Ann sighs.

“We’ll go with what we know.” Akira gets on his feet, taking another peek, black coattails swishing around his ankles. With blood-red hands he pulls his mask back down, and they all straighten up. His voice is barely above a mutter, but they all catch every word he says. “Panther, how’s your energy?”

“Nearly full,” she answers.

“Use Concentrate on Queen and Skull on their call, double their magical attack whenever you can. I know it takes awhile to reuse when you’re using it for anyone but yourself, but try your best. Ryuji, how you holding up?”

“Like everything’s zero gravity, leader.”

“Then I want you to do the same with Charge for Fox, Noir, and yourself. Don’t overdo it though—only do it on my call.”

“Got it.”

“Sophie, Morgana: healing duty. Especially for those of you who drain your health like an open tap. Noir, try to get a vantage point and use Milady’s arsenal. Catching Konoe off guard can be what we need. Oracle, watch our backs. Everyone else, on standby. Are we all clear?”

With a nod, Akira takes a deep breath. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

He takes the first step, knowing full well that ten more are right behind him.

The minute Konoe spots where they were hiding, he takes a slow pace towards them, confident in his own abilities. He swings his lightsaber around him with ease, footsteps heavy and sure.

They take his lethargy to their advantage. “Split!” Akira calls, and immediately they head to where they need to be. “Let’s take this nice and—”

In a split second, the unhurried pace that Konoe was taking dissipates and he dashes forward, a blur to their eyes, heading straight for Ann, who just barely dodges out of the way.

“What the hell?!”

“He’s fucking fast now!”

“This guy’s speed just cranked up!” Futaba yells. “If he could do that without me even realizing it, then who knows—”

“Stay sharp, we know what we’re doing.”

“How on earth are you still so calm, Joker?!”

“Because I believe in all of you.” Dashing left, he brushes his mask. “Neko Shogun, help me out.” A black cat with eyes bigger than his hand materializes from the monochrome mask, and they all suddenly feel lighter on their feet, ready to dodge anything that comes their way. “Queen, Skull.”

“Roger that!”

Makoto scales one of the neon walls, grip strength insurmountable, and runs across the wires that are tied from each platform, boots barely touching the cord, before jumping down. “Johanna!”

An explosion, or something more akin to a nuclear bomb getting set off mere meters in front of them, occurs where Makoto lands, hitting Konoe head-on.

He staggers back, obviously shaken but he recovers quickly. Lightsaber buzzing red, he’s about to strike at her when she hops on the back of Johanna, engine revving. “Lucky us, he’s weak to nuclear.”

Ryuji hops on his feet, hyping himself up. “Not all of us have cars for a quick getaway,” he snarks, before he’s gone, sprinting so fast that he’s nearly a blur to anyone looking his way. Racing behind a wall, he gets the jump on Konoe. “Come on out, Captain!”

A storm brews even without a single cloud over them as ozone reeks and lightning strikes, the deafening sound of thunder makes their ears ring.

“Holy crap,” Futaba breathes.

“Is he weak?” he asks.

“Uh,” Ann says. Konoe uses his lightsaber as a makeshift cane to get himself on his feet, shaking his head aggressively. “Yeah, I’d say he’s weak to it.”

“Comms are set,” Futaba announces. “Noir, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Oracle,” a bright voice chirps in their ears. “Joker, it’s an easy shot.”

“Take it.”

“With your help, Milady.”

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot rings out, and their heads swivel to see if it hit, but there’s no one there.

“What the...?” Ann wildly spins around, eyes widening. “Sophie—!”

Without turning her head back, Sophia instinctively ducks sideways, bits of red locks falling to the ground as Konoe’s lightsaber slices through the edges of her hair, and again when it grazes past her head, and another when it slices through the metal flooring like it was butter.

Panic grips her. “Pithos!” Sophia shrieks, voice high with fear. Blinding light shines from her hands, but Konoe walks into it like it was nothing.

Yusuke grips his katana, and silent as a gust of wind on a winter’s night, cuts through the air in front of him to deliver a myriad of slashes over Konoe. It does little to him, but it’s jarring enough that Sophia can escape where she was cornered.

“He’s very speedy,” Sophia says shakily. “Thank you, Fox.”

He nods, touching his mask in preparation. “That speed is nothing to jest about.”

“And we can’t do anything about it by just standing here! Makoto, back me up here.” Ann throws her mask in the air. “Carmen!”

“Find me an opening, and I’ll handle the rest,” Haru’s voice crackles.

“She’s right.” Akira touches his mask as it burns bright with the strength of dozens, maybe even hundreds of Personas. “She needs cover, and we need the element of surprise. Fox, Morgana.”

“Not a word more.”

“You got it!”

Ann takes a leaf from Makoto’s book, using her whip to grapple herself onto a ledge, running to take the high point behind Konoe, grazing Haru’s shoulder on the way there.

Konoe turns, but before he can take a counter measure, Akira calls out: “King Frost.”

At the same time, Yusuke says, voice loud and clear: “Goemon!”

Together, pillars of ice, meters and meters high surround Konoe, high enough that he can’t see anything past a few feet. But that height comes with a price; they can only make it so thick, and the lightsaber didn’t hesitate to crush it into bits.

“Panther, we don’t have too much time.” Already, sweat begins to pool and roll down Akira’s skin, using up his magic rapidly. “Are you in position?”

“Just—” she hops, heels clicking rapidly against the floor. “—About! Ten seconds!”

“We can hold it. Sophia, stay close on standby.”

“Understood!”

Motorcycle wheels screech next to Ryuji, and he doesn’t hesitate to hop on the back before they’re off again, leaving tire marks where they skirted off. “I swear to god, you play the racing games in the arcade. How the hell else would you get so good at this?”

“Would you shut up?” Makoto snaps.

“Roger that.”

“I’m in position!” Ann announces. She’s almost directly on top of the ice pillar. “On your signal.”

Gritting his teeth, Akira wipes the sweat away. “Hold.”

Yusuke swivels his head to him, knees shaking. “I can hold for as long as you need me to, but I might not be as much use afterwards.”

“It’s fine.” His eyes narrow at Konoe, still tearing through their ice blockade as the pile of shards only gets higher and higher. “Just a little bit longer. Sophia, use the biggest, most pinpoint bless move you have on my word.”

“Yes,” she responds, before hesitating. “He’s immune to it, I’m afraid.”

“I know.” Even Akira sounds breathless, his footing becoming unsteady.

“Joker, you don’t have much left,” Futaba warns. “You better hope this ends things, or we’re gonna have a real big problem on our hands.”

Once the shards of ice have piled high enough that it would surpass Konoe’s height twice over, and despite his hands beginning to turn blue, Akira's grin is wide. “Three—”

Yusuke’s vision begins to blur, but he refuses to relinquish Goemon.

“Two—”

Haru rearranges her finger on the trigger, palms drenched in sweat but they don’t shake. Not anymore.

“One—”

Ann takes a few steps back, sucking in a breath before sprinting forward, jumping straight over the open-chasm of ice and death beneath her.

“Now!”

Carmen releases a blaze of flame intense enough to encompass an entire neighborhood and then some, taking the shards and bits of ice that was piled high on top of each other and turning it into a cloud of fog and hot mist, shooting straight up and turning the visibility of the whole area to zero.

Yusuke crumbles to his knees as Ann tucks and rolls onto the floor, hissing as she feels her ankle twist into something nasty. “Shit!”

Akira staggers back, gripping his head like it hurts for him to stand, but that doesn’t stop him from yelling out: “Sophia!”

“Makougan!”

Like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm, there shines a beam of light so bright, so concentrated into one area, that they all know exactly where to aim their fire.

It all comes tumbling down, a perfectly set-up domino trap; Haru pulls trigger after trigger, bullet shells flying, ignoring the way her shoulder is inching further and further from where it’s supposed to be by taking the brunt of the recoil. Ryuji hops off the bike, crossing his arms in front of him calling two, three, four bolts as Makoto calls another nuclear blast.

From inside the whirlpool of thick clouds, where the fog is most dense, a figure sways, coughing and lurching forwards and back, trying desperately to escape.

“Oh no you don’t! Zorro!”

Wind, so thick you can almost see it, swirls around most of the mist, locking it in and dragging everyone else’s attacks right in the center.

Futaba’s clacking can be heard even now. “He’s losing health fast! Eighty percent, seventy percent, sixty—”

The ground trembles ominously.

“What in the world…?” Yusuke pants from the ground, elbows barely able to keep his torso up.

It happens again, stronger this time.

“Fifty, forty—” she continues, voice small and desperate. “Thirty! Twenty!”

Akira presses his palm against the ground, eyes closed before snapping open. Despite his exhaustion, he compels himself to stand, arms outstretched defensively. “Guard!”

They do so, and a streak of pure light flickers from the inside, before rapidly getting larger and larger until it turns into a scintillating sphere that grew and pulsed, eating up everything in its wake and blowing away the captivating fog. Try as they might, there’s nothing they can do to stand up against a Megidolaon.

Bruised and battered, Konoe stands tall as the Phantom Thieves can do nothing but look up from the ground, energy and options all but dried up until neither was left.

—

“Stop, I can walk, let me up—”

“Panther, stop struggling, your ankle is already too injured to—”

“Fuck! Oracle, does he know where we are?”

“Not yet; looks like that vanish ball Joker threw out gave us some cover but it’ll last for a way shorter time considering he blew through our plan in less than—”

“Whoa, Fox, you’re not looking good.”

“I’m afraid I can’t keep going, everyone. Goemon has reached his limit, but I don’t necessarily need him to keep fighting. Judging by my vision, however, my accuracy might be much lower than usual.”

“Man, shut up and stay down.”

“Sophia? Can you hear us?”

“Yes, but—ow!”

“Okay, stop moving, you’re only going to make it worse.”

“Joker, we still have plenty of items that we’ve accumulated from previous Jails. We don’t have much time before he can find us again, but if we put our heads together—”

“Are you talking about the scraps of grilled corn and the three life stones we have left? It would be suicide. We have to go in, guns blazing. It’s the only way it can work.”

“You’re talking about suicide, Mona, and the ‘guns blazing’ strategy you’re talking about would be literally lead to us serving our heads on a silver platter.”

“So what’s your plan, Queen? I’m all ears, I’m serious.”

“G-guys, stop fighting! We’ve barely got enough time as is. Just let me scan—”

“We’re pulling back.”

All eyes turn to Akira, posture straight despite the sheen of sweat clinging to his forehead. It’s obvious how he was barely able to stand.

Ryuji takes a step forward. “Are you crazy?”

"More than half of us are running on fumes, and half of those people are injured to the point where they can barely keep going. Our plan was shattered like it was nothing, he has a super move that’s so powerful that it tears through our defenses like tissue paper. We’re retreating.”

“Like hell we are! Do you know what’s gonna happen if we leave?”

“We heal our injuries, we get more items, we prepare better this time, and we come up with a better plan.”

“And that gives that bastard—” he jerks his thumb behind him. “The exact same advantage.”

“And what advantage do we have?” Akira’s voice is calm but they all feel the edge to it. “Who can even fight?”

“I can,” Morgana answers quietly. “He takes wind like concrete, though.”

“So can I. However, I can’t do as much as I normally can.” Haru rolls her shoulder, wincing. “I may have dislocated my shoulder earlier.”

“And me, obviously,” Ryuji finishes. “That’s nearly an entire team. We even have support and a distance shooter, and Futaba’s still in this too, so—”

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no,” he says, hard. “Don’t be stubborn about this. You know damn well why we can’t.”

Akira turns on his heel, only the slightest wobble in his movements. “Let’s move out. We only have thirty seconds left before the vanish ball wears off.”

“We’re not leaving.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Is it because you’re not on the team?”

A hush falls on them, and for a second, everyone forgets that they were even in the middle of a battle.

Akira glances back, hair covering his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Ryuji takes another step forward, chin tilted up. “That you don’t think that we can handle this without you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it really? When was that last time you weren’t on the A team, Joker? Does anyone remember?” He glances at the rest of them. “Anyone? No? Yeah, I figured.”

He stares at him. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?”

“I just don’t like that you’re implying that I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Ryuji…” Ann tries quietly.

“Yourself?” He faces him, expression blank. “I thought this was about the team.”

“And I’m part of the team, ain’t I?”

“You’re not dragging the rest of them into your petty, nonsensical argument, Skull,” Akira goes toe-to-toe with him, neither one blinking. “That’s final.”

“You know it would be dumb as shit to give that guy even more time to prepare. It’s like Shido—he was the toughest guy we went up against because he gave himself a billion counter measures since he knew we were coming. Konoe barely knew jack but he handed our asses to us. We finish this now or we don’t finish this at all.”

“I’d rather lose the battle than lose my friends,” he hisses. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“You’re too fucking blind to see that this is more than just us, leader,” Ryuji spits the word. “I can do it—no, I will do it.”

Akira grabs the bandana around his neck. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” he says through gritted teeth. “But you’re not going anywhere near Konoe.”

But it’s useless, and they both know it—Akira’s far too drained and Ryuji’s far too strong for it to be much more than an empty threat.

Ryuji wraps his fingers around his wrist. “I’ll prove to you that I can fucking do this,” his grip is tight, before forcibly peeling Akira’s grasp from him. “Believe in me. I’m strong, Akira.”

“Don’t do this.” Any anger from his words dissipates, and desperation takes its place. “I’m commanding you, as the leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts—do not do this.”

With a wide grin and lightning behind his eyes, Ryuji’s gone, and Akira’s hand is grasping thin air.

“Fuck,” he clutches at his head, body shaking with exertion. “Fuck.”

“Oh my god,” Makoto breathes. “He’s going to fight Konoe alone.”

“Over my dead body,” Akira touches his mask. “Come out, Yoshits—” Before he can finish, a gutteral sound from deep in his throat cuts him off, and he crashes ungracefully on the ground. “God dammit.”

Makoto shakes herself out of her stupor, taking a deep breath. “Alright, we can’t leave Skull. We’ll work with what we have.” Instinctively, she looks to Akira for advice, but his eyes are glazed over. Whether or not it’s from exhaustion or shock from what happened, she doesn’t know. “Noir, range attack. Shoot down the broken limbs from the mech, pray it still has nuclear running through its pipes. Mona, you’ll be on the support. Noir is already down in health, and Lord knows Skull’s going to need it. I’m down energy wise, but I have a good visual from above.” Eyes sliding sideways. “Oracle?”

“Comms are set up, I’m scanning for weaknesses, and Skull’s almost there,” she replies instantly. “If you’re going to join him, it’s now or never.”

“Alright.” Makoto swallows. “Everyone else, stay back. You two—go.” Morgana and Noir dart out.

“Thank you,” Akira says quietly. “I was just…out of it.”

“You don’t have to explain. That was…” she trails off when he looks up at her. His gaze in the Metaverse is sharp, always sharp, but now they’re dull. From knives to pebbles.

“Why did he do this?” he whispers. “What did I do wrong?”

The floor begins to rumble again, and they all lean over the edge to watch the battle playout.

“Everyone’s in position,” Yusuke narrates with a frown. “I don’t doubt Skull’s skill, but even at our full power, Konoe couldn’t be beaten.”

“He’s there,” Makoto says, and Akira watches, perfectly still. “He’s about to hit first.”

Ann leans forward, as they all did, at how Ryuji calls Kidd, voice ringing so loud they can hear it from where they sat on top of a wall. “Can he really do it?”

“Well,” Futaba heaves a deep sigh. “He’s right that this is probably our best shot, considering that we already got Konoe down to twenty percent of his health.”

Captain Kidd materializes, and his cannon is leaning back, glowing with power, and Konoe takes a step sideways, about to dodge.

“But Ryuji isn’t the same fighter that he was before.”

Instead of shooting forward, the cannon is swiftly raised skyward and thunder cracks before lightning strikes Konoe, followed by Ryuji lifting his pipe and slamming it straight into his skull and dodging just as another Megidolaon grows where he stood.

All of them stare, wide-eyed, at the spectacle before them like it was a sporting match; a back and forth happens, where Konoe would use his immense speed and power to try and get the leg up on Ryuji, but he would only hit thin air as he dodges and parries, shifting and ducking with a finesse they’ve never seen before, calling up Kidd and using electricity so potent that they feel can its static. Konoe grips his saber and swings and swings, triple-attack rolled into one but everytime he tries he only gets cut off when Ryuji slams his hand into the ground and calls dozens of wildly waving purple hands, each of them clawing at Konoe mercilessly.

“I knew he was stronger than he was before,” Makoto’s eyes are wide with wonder. “But it's like I don’t even recognize him.”

Ions and plasma strike as lightning meets saber, causing a violent cascade of sparks to fly frantically around the two of them. Bullets ring out whenever Konoe takes a step back, only to send him flying as a mini nuclear blast explodes behind him; Haru’s aim is impeccable.

This dance plays out for a long time, with Ryuji calling earth-shaking attacks and dancing around Megidolaons while Haru finds weak spots.

“Has he grown even faster?” Yusuke wonders aloud.

Futaba is struggling to watch all the data, attention straying to watch the fight. “He’s shaved off another ten percent off his health!”

“He’s incredible,” Ann says, awe-struck. “Isn’t he, Joker? He’s totally kicking his ass, pretty much by himself.”

“There’s something wrong.”

She peels her eyes away from below to stare at him, perplexed. “Things couldn’t be any better.”

Akira’s eyes are trained on Ryuji, on the way he’s limboing, countering every single attack rather than guarding. “I’ve seen his style since the very first day he got his Persona, and I’ve never seen him dodge so fluently. So desperately,” he says, eyes narrowed. “Something changed. And I didn’t notice.”

“Guys, am I crazy,” Morgana’s voice crackles in their ear. “Or is he really, really good at dodging attacks? I’ve only healed Noir this entire time, and she’s not even down there.”

“I just think he’s being cautious,” Haru replies, cocking her gun before continuing her assault. “Oracle? Report, please.”

“Five percent left,” they all hear the grin in her voice. “He’s actually going to do it.”

“Panther.” Ann blinks at Akira. “Help me up.”

She does, pushing his shoulders up until he’s sitting straight. “Needed a better view of him being a badass?” she teases.

Instead of answering, his gaze focuses, irises turning into a bright shade of blue.

Third eye, she registers with surprise. “We already know his stats.”

“I don’t care about Konoe’s,” his brow furrows slightly. “I care about his.”

“Two percent!” Futaba calls gleefully.

Suddenly, air catches in Akira’s throat. “What?” Ann startles.

“His endurance,” his voice shakes so intensely that she almost can’t understand what he’s saying. “His endurance.”

“What? What does that mean? Joker?” He tries pushing himself on his feet, crumbling and spewing obscenities when he can’t. “What are you doing? There’s nothing you can do, and Mona’s already got the healing taken care of.”

“One percent!”

The look in Akira’s eye is wild, and he’s paler than she’s ever seen him—whiter than when he came back from the interrogation room, and it’s enough to make her stomach drop all the way to the ground. “By the time they heal him, it’ll be too late.”

Everyone cheers and they both turn their attention back to the battle below them, where Ryuji summons one last bolt at Konoe, and finally, it’s enough to take him down.

Ryuji turns his back to Konoe, arms raised in triumph and drenched in sweat, immense pride clear on his expression.

It all happens in slow motion.

Akira jumps down, ignoring the protests from above, limping and scrambling towards Ryuji. Behind him, Konoe tries for one last, desperate attempt to win by swinging his saber weakly at Ryuji’s ankles, grazing his flesh ever so slightly.

“No!” Akira cries out.

Despite the cut being as shallow as a paper cut and as wide as a bee’s sting, Ryuji crumples to the ground, all life seeped out of him like he was struck through the heart.

#p5 #p5s #mine #fic tag #plainly in truth #persona 5 #persona 5 strikers #ryuji sakamoto #akira kurusu #akiryu #pegoryu #chapter four...how the time flies

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hiromisuzukimicrojournal · 3 years ago

Text

Nocturnal Daisy

She simmers diced apples in a milk-pan with honey. At dawn, she cooks the confiture with overripe and rotten fruits. An apple that she found in the backyard of her apartment is Red Delicious, it has been forgotten in the back of the refrigerator for a week. Preserving the sweet sweetest Red Delicious with honey in amber colour is a dream she has just before waking up. Suddenly, a knife-wielding man is reflected on the surface of the glass jam jar, to which the confiture has been transferred from the pan. No, a hairtail in a shiny, water-repellent tailcoat sparkles in the morning sun outside her window. She recognizes it as usual. Since the factories were closed in the town that once prospered with paper manufacturing, most of the private houses and shops have been abandoned. Surrounded by deep forest, the island is a quiet town under the ocean. The hairtail mimics the sunlight shining into the deep sea. He stands at about the same height as an adult human male, swims in a thin and flat body, emits a silvery steel blue colour on the seabed. The hairtail is laughing, showing his sharp and ferocious teeth.

She goes to work at 8:00 am at the same time as the only bakery in the town opens. While relying on the good smell of yeast, a sleepwalker in her dream feels the gentle flow of the sea and arrives at the store. A boulanger, the bakery owner sleeps together with the dough kneaded after the sunset and bakes the breads from 2:30 am, before sunrise. Waiting for a store clerk, he puts out Danish pastries, croissants, baguettes in the display rack to cool. She is in love with him. In her imagination, she is in love with the bakery owner who will go to bed at 8:00 pm, get up at midnight, wear a toque blanche and start baking breads. When she fantasizes about the stories between the pages of books in the dark, he may be sweating with the heat of the oven. In the dim light of the kitchen, he must be stirring the sugar and egg white with hazelnuts and lemon juice until meringue will become the sweet foam. But, in fact, she does not know who the store owner really is. An old lady comes to the store every morning and buys a pie baked with chocolate syrup and custard cream spread in thin layers between the dough. The store owner carefully wraps the pie in translucent waxed paper. The old lady is in love with the pie. The beautiful pie, like the ancient strata that have their own histories on the ocean floor. Like the stories of each pebble that might have been brought by many years of river flow.

"Would you take home the edge of the white bread? I have cut it too thin and you see, there was a hole in the middle."

The bakery owner closes the store late in the afternoon and gives me a piece of unsold bread. "Make an apple confiture sandwich for a midnight snack. Watch out for the hole," he says, looking at the woods through the hole in the middle of the bread. "Be careful not to fall from the hole into the darkness forever. The time in the forest at night is deep and long," he says, wrapping his whole body in a hoodie as if he is changing into a diving suit in preparation for the coldness. Then he melts into the cove at dusk.

In her room, she is reading books left behind by the closed paper mills and printing factories. The books, having seen better days, are shabby due to the humidity of the sea breeze and the sighs of the trees in the forest. A silverfish lives in the books. Silverfish is not a fish. Its name comes from the appearance of wearing shiny scales. It is a nocturnal insect that usually lives in old books and eats used paper, blurred black and white photographs, and bookbinding glue. The silverfish running away from the light seems to be a fish swimming in a rock reef. As she turns the page of a book in her study under the stairs, the silverfish swiftly escapes under the wooden floor, scared by the suddenly lit lamps. Tonight, she intends to lie down on the couch and enjoy the rest of a story with apple confiture put into a cup of tea. However, there are many holes in the pages. The silverfish eats the pages she has just finished reading, so she cannot reread the texts she inadvertently passed by.

‘If it wasn’t for the mist we could see your home across the bay,’ said Gatsby. ‘You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock…’ Possibly, it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to her, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon.

Part of Chapter 5 in the novel The Great Gatsby, written by F. Scott Fitzgerald in 1925, has been eaten up by the silverfish. Someday, the silverfish's stomach will be full of letters. In the end, even the leftover letters will be lost after the traces of the silverfish have gone. She pours a drop of brandy into Darjeeling tea. Her memory fades. Finally, she fills the brandy to the brim of teacup. She falls asleep, even though the hands of clock only point to 9:30 pm. It dawns on her that the light of memories and stories has now vanished forever.

✽ ✽ ✽

About This Story: The heroine of this story dreams in her dream and loses a dream in her dream. Many stories and histories that have been handed down all around the world for a long time are nothing more than illusions. She obtains an ecstatic experience due to the contact with the flow of the time or place in illusion. Chocolate Daisy blooms in the night. The nocturnal flower will give off an ephemeral sweet scent and emit the dim light in the dark.

✽

Short Story & Art Work // Nocturnal Daisy

published in époque press the 10th edition of é-zine on the theme ‘Ecstasy’ (October 1, 2021)

…

via époque press

#hiromi suzuki #short fiction #short story #Art Work #GIF Poetry #collage #photo-collage #photography #visual poetry #poetry magazine #poetry journal #literary journal #époque press

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! How are you? Hope you are doing well!

I read your jealous!percy fanfiction and OH MY GODS is it possible to be in love with a fanfiction because I really was!!

Can I request for a part two??

Please feel free to ignore this if you are busy or cannot do it right now!

I just wanted to say that I really do adore you and your content!!!

Thank you!!!

When I tell you I sat in my room and cried when I saw this ask?!? Thank you so much for your lovely words angel💖🥺they really do mean the world! And I’m so so so happy you enjoy the mess I put out☀️

Your wish is my command so here is Part 2 of the Jealous! Percy fic. There is no jelly Perc in this one but there's enough fluff you may have a cavity after all this sweet👀

Please enjoy!

Masterlist

Percy puts the final bauble on the Christmas tree and stands back to admire his work. The tree glitters brightly, a combination of tinsel and the soft yellow lights wrapping around the branches. The low melody of Christmas music comes from the small radio sitting on the bookshelf and the coco steaming on his coffee table looks more than inviting. He figures if he, and his band of misfit daddy and/or mommy issue group of friends, couldn't go home for Christmas he would do his best to bring the festivities here. The one person he really wants here is going to California for the holidays, something he hasn't done in years, and although Percy is disappointed he knows his friends will make the most of the time anyway.

He collapses onto his couch, staring at his hard work and takes a small sip from the steaming mug. His laptop is silently playing some Christmas movie or the other and the mountain of notebooks and pens on the table shake precariously. A small collection of weathered envelopes sits to one side; cards for his friends. They had promised no gifts, as they do every year, and instead sought to make the cheesiest, funniest, most tear worthy cards. There were different categories and if you won you got to pick the holiday games or what happens to the losers.

A single knock at his door pulls a frown onto his face. He considers ignoring it, mostly because he wasn't expecting anyone, but it starts back up a moment later and he resigns to a baseball bat and a cautious glance. He eases the door open and bursts out laughing as he sees who's behind it.

"What?" His unexpected guest gives him a wide eyed look, "Did I forget pants or something?"

"I thought you were a really polite murderer."

"What?" Confusion is etched so perfectly across that beautiful face Percy can't help but laugh again.

"Come in my love," He moves out the way and let's his boyfriend pass.

Just as he closes the door again Jason Grace pulls him by the wrist and crashes their bodies together.

"I missed you," The blonde breathes, and he has to hide the shiver that races up his spine at those husky words.

"We saw each other two days ago?"

"Maybe I'm an addict."

"Please kiss me. Right now."

And those blue eyes glitter with joy as their lips meet. It is soft and patient and full of sweet wonder. Jason threads his hands through those black curls and slants his head slightly, trying to get closer, if that were even possible. Percy swipes his tongue across the blonde's lip and his mouth parts in a little gasp. Their kiss deepens, turns to languid exploring and content passion.

When they break apart they are out of breath and the smiles taking over their faces make the sun look dim.

"Missed me that much huh?"

"More," A golden hand strokes his flushed cheek.

"What are you doing here?" He leans into the hand, looks up, into that adoring gaze, "I thought you were going to Cali to be with your father?"

"He has a last minute work trip," The blonde rolls his eyes, "I'd rather spend the holidays with you anyway."

"Well the gang is coming over tomorrow but we have tonight and every day after that all to ourselves."

"Who knew we'd be here?" Jason sighs, laying one of Percy's hands against his thundering heart.

"Not me," He giggles, "I thought I'd be spending my Christmas pretending I haven't been pining over you and maybe drinking unhealthy amounts of coco."

His boyfriend scrunches his nose, "Why do you even like the stuff? It tastes like bitter bean water."

"I think you're talking about coffee," His green eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Ugh don't even get me started on that stuff. Tea is the only valid hot beverage." The blonde huffs as they stow his stuff in the bedroom and flop down on the couch.

"You are such an old man," He shakes his head, rubbing a thumb over his palm.

"What time is everyone else coming tomorrow? And who is?"

"They'll be here between eleven and one because I told them ten. And it's Frank, Haze, Leo, and Reyna. Everyone else is with their families."

Jason snuggles into him, hair tickling his neck as he rests against his shoulders. A muffled yawn escapes him and Percy's heart clenches for the gentleness of the situation.

"You want some tea?"

"No," He yawns again, "I'll need to pee every five seconds in the night."

He laughs, and his boyfriend whips his body up, eyes wide with horror, "Sorry that was probably too much information."

"Are you kidding I’ve seen you throw up your guts because of food poisoning. That was hilarious."

"Shut up," Jason mumbles, golden cheeks heating, "We don't talk about that."

"I think it's the only time I've ever seen you look disheveled."

He shudders, laying his head back on Percy's shoulder, "I never went to feel like that again. I swear I was dying."

They settle into the quiet, the hum of the radiator and the low music still playing from the radio washing over them. Jason intertwines their fingers, tracing patterns against the back of his boyfriend's beautiful brown skin. And that's how they fall asleep, slowly and indulgent. As if they can hang up time on a hook and take it down when they need it next.

When Percy's alarm starts playing the next morning he groans loudly and stretches out. His boyfriend mumbles something and snuggles further into his side. He strokes a hand through those sunlight strands and drops a kiss on his forehead.

"I have to get everything ready, my love."

"Don't leave," He garbles, "You warm."

"I promise I'll be back. Why don't you go sleep in the room. You'll be more comfortable there"

"Want you," His voice is raspy with sleep and Percy has to stop himself from yanking his boyfriend by the hoodie and planting a passion fueled kiss on his lips.

"If I don't set up we'll never be ready by the time the gang comes."

Jason simply holds his arms up, blue eyes unfocused and gives him a lopsided smile. With a sigh that hides his amused affection he loops his arms under the blonde's, wrapping them around his back, and grabs his legs.

"You ready my love?"

A nod, and fumbling kiss into his neck is the reply. And then Percy is lifting up his boyfriend and carrying him through the apartment and into his room.

"Mhmm," Jason hums onto his skin, "Smells like you."

"You like it?"

"Smells good," He bobs his head as he snuggles into the duvet, "Like ocean and rain."

Percy just smiles and brushes his lips across the blonde's gently, "Sleep."

As he turns to walk away Jason catches his wrist and tugs him back.

"Stay," His blue eyes are wide with pleading, "Please."

"But i—" He starts, and then he's falling onto the bed and wrapping his arm around his boyfriend, "We are going to be so late."

Jason kisses his cheek, his nose, his other cheek, before finally reaching his lips.

"Iss okay," He's already falling back asleep.

Their breathing slows, and they find each other once more, in a land as perfect as this one.

***

"Well good morning lover boys," A delighted voice squeals.

Percy moans, muttering something unintelligible and buries himself into the sheets.

"I take it nobody has ordered our Christmas feast or started on the Eggnog Nogfest?" Another voice giggles.

"Go, sleep, warm." He tries to form a coherent thought.

"If y'all don't get your asses up right now I'm pouring ice water on both of you." A husky growl comes from right over them.

Ocean eyes blink open as he struggles to bring the room into focus.

A scary, bright-eyed Reyna is glaring at them and Leo is leaning against the door frame, mirth swimming in his expression.

"Finally," Hazel laughs, "So can we get this party started?"

"Ugh," Percy groans, "What time is it?"

"Half twelve. We let ourselves in after knocking at your door so long your neighbor came to tell you off for having sex in the kitchen."

"What?" He isn't awake enough for Leo's explanations.

"Cause you know banging against the wall?" His friend prompts but Percy just waves him off and rubs at his eyes, nudging Jason to get up.

"So when's lunch?"

Frank steps into the room with a reassuring smile, "On the way. I just ordered."

"Are we having Christmas in here then?" He asks.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Reyna shrugs.

And before Percy can protest Leo is catapulting onto the bed and Hazel is flopping over their legs.

"Wow Jase," She pokes at the blonde, "You bony shins are really comfortable against my spine."

"Who asked you to collapse onto my bones?" He grumbles, trying to wake himself up.

"Who asked you to be sleeping on Christmas morning?" She shoots back cheekily.

"Touchè." He grins, moving over to make her comfortable.

"Well," Percy looks at his friends, eyes shining, "What are you two waiting for? Get on here!"

Reyna and Frank shake their heads, like the parents they were so rightfully labeled, but happiness sparks in their eyes and they dive under the covers.

"So who wants to play Go Fish or Forfeit?" Leo smiles gleefully.

A shout of excitement goes up and they all shuffle into a circle, the blue-threaded black silk duvet being tucked around them. He grabs the double pack of cards he keeps at his nightstand and distributes seven per person.

"Everyone know the rules?" He asks.

They all nod. So the Christmas festivities begin.

And there in that room, on that bed, Percy and his friends know what warmth feels like, and the glittering in their eyes can only mean love.

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oscar-fairchild · 4 years ago

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RevolutionaryWriters Event 1

I finally did this y’all lol

Prompt: “What if something happens to you?” / “People can live for a hundred years without living a minute”

Ship: Blackdale (Lucie x Jesse)

For the lovely @princesslucretia!! 💕 (I hope it’s okay that I used this prompt for the event! I just thought it fit really well!)

As the grasping fingers of nighttime overtook the day, Jesse Blackthorn awoke with excitement in his heart. The moment after he opened his eyes, he willed himself into darkness again, the great black nothingness suffusing him for just a second before he appeared in Lucie Herondale’s bedroom.

The excitement disappeared when he saw she was crying.

“Lucie!” He hurried over to her, wishing desperately that he could lay a hand on her shoulder. She sat on her bed, her pale pink dress spread before her, her body wracked with sobs. She would have, should have, been a vision of beauty, a goddess come to life, if her face hadn’t been crumpled in sadness. My light should never be so dim.

She looked up at his approach, then quickly covered her face with her hands. “Jesse, not now.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, but Lucie didn’t answer. He watched her cry for a long moment, shifting nervously. “Lucie, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

She sniffled behind her hands. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just leave me alone, please.”

He reached out a hand, but of course it just passed right through her. Tentatively, he positioned himself on the bed next to her. If I were alive, this would be very improper, he thought. Lucie had never seemed to mind, though.

“You wanted me to come hear your story, right? So read it to me. Maybe that would make you feel better.” He tried to use as gentle a voice as possible, but Lucie broke into fresh sobs anyway. Her small body shuddered, her hair bouncing in its curls. Jesse could feel his heart cracking into pieces.

Wordlessly, he stood up, walking over to Lucie’s desk, where a flickering candle sat next to a scattering of papers. Stories were her refuge, and he couldn’t bear to watch this go on for another second. The paper on top looked like the final page of a story, and he scanned it quickly.

“...spent his days in bed, too weak to do anything but cry. He was convinced he would never be strong, and he felt like he’d failed everyone he loved. His mother was despondent, and it was his fault. His sister, lovely Princess Grace, would bring him tea and sit at his bedside, but he was sure he’d failed her, too. “

Jesse felt his throat tighten. Oh, Lucie. He almost didn’t want to, but he let his eyes slide down the rest of the page.

“The terrible disease slowly overtook him, and he died without joy and without hope. Now the beautiful Prince Jerrod is condemned to a wispy ghostly existence, longing to return to his loved ones, watching as they carried on their lives without him.”

Jesse stood in stunned silence for a long moment, staring at the paper. He no longer needed to breathe, but his chest felt desperate for air anyway. “Lucie, I’m-- What is this?”

She pulled her face out of her hands and saw him gazing at the paper. “No! Don’t read that.” She darted up from the bed and snatched it off the desk.

“Is this about me?”

“No.” She crossed her arms, the story crumpled in one hand. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Lucie. Lucie, look at me.” He reached his hand out again, letting his ghostly fingers trail along her cheek. He knew she couldn’t feel it, but she slowly raised her eyes to his regardless. “I will admit that my life was not easy. My mother loved me, but she was stern, and it was very lonely, even with Grace. I cannot pretend that I was happy.”

“It’s just… it’s so unfair. You deserve so much better.” Tears rolled down Lucie’s cheek. She turned her face into his hand, closing her eyes, and he would have given more than he was willing to admit to be able to wipe the tears from her face.

“My Lucie, my light. I am happy now, happier than I ever dreamed I would be.”

Lucie blinked. “You--you are? But you’re still…”

“I may be dead, but my soul has never been more alive.” Jesse stepped closer, putting his forehead against hers. She took a shuddering breath. “People can live for a hundred years without living a minute; that’s what I was doing, all those years, locked away at home. But meeting you has filled me with life in a way a living body never could. You are my light, Lucie, my happiness and my soul.”

Lucie’s eyes fluttered open, and she gazed at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Jesse smiled softly at her. He had wondered before if ghosts could cry, and now he found the answer to be yes; tears streamed steadily down his own cheeks as well.

“You need not worry about my past, Lucie. Think only of the now. In the now, I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“But what if something happens to you?” She pulled away, and her hands became fists at her sides, wrinkling the material of her dress. “If this-- if this is your happiness, if you truly have what you’ve always wanted, I can’t help but fear that the universe, cruel as it is, will take it all away. Your ‘life’ as a ghost is so tenuous, and it could all fall apart so easily.”

“Oh, Lucie, it’s--”

“You’ve suffered enough!” Her voice was half whisper, half shout. “I can’t bear-- I simply could not bear to see you unhappy, ever again. I could not bear to lose you.”

Jesse stepped closer to her again. “You won’t, Lucie. I swear by the Angel, you won’t lose me.”

They stood there, together, for an endless moment, the oversaturated silence sinking into Jesse’s heart. Her eyes, locked on his, sparkled in the candlelight, and he almost had to look away. The look in her eyes was so vulnerable that his oath did not feel like enough, but he didn’t know what else to offer.

Lucie smiled, then, just slightly, but it lit Jesse’s world like a beacon. “You shouldn’t make promises you’re not sure you can keep.”

He smiled back. “Anything for you, my light.” Anything for you.

#tsc #tlh #the last hours #chain of gold #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #lucie x jesse #jesse x lucie #blackdale #jucie #opal celebrates 50 #opal writes #revolutionarywriters #event 1

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haloshornsinkstains · 3 years ago

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Five Times Kore Went Drinking With the Devildom

Kore is my MC/semi self-insert for Obey Me. Enjoy some drunken chaos with her and a few faces from the Devildom.

Content warning: Alcohol, Mammon-style scams, pranks, Mammon slander, witches

1. Diavolo

"Lucifer, apologies for the interruption, but you may wish to come collect your human." Lucifer frowned at the handset, the beginnings of a headache already beginning to prod at the space behind his eyes. "Barbatos. She went to the castle to finish the festival preparations with Lord Diavolo less than an hour ago. What could she possibly have managed to do already?" On the other end of the line Barbatos chuckled, poorly hiding it behind a cough. "I'm afraid in this case it is my Lord's doing. Miss Kore had all the preparations finished shortly after her arrival, however the Young Master recently acquired some rare drink from a visiting emissary and wished to share it with his favourite human…" Lucifer bristled on the other end of the line, growling slightly into the static left by Barbatos' sudden pause. "Barbatos, what is happening?" A few more beats of silence and the muffled sound of a handset being picked up. "Apologies. The Young Master requested some water for Miss Kore. She is quite alright, no need to fret Lucifer. However the drink had a rather more pronounced effect on human biology than we anticipated. I thought you might want to collect her while she's still awake, I can always put her up in one of the spare rooms if you prefer…" Lucifer sighed. "I'll collect her. The headache I'll be subjected to if she disappears for a night with no warning isn't worth it." "Very well. I'll see you shortly."

By the time Lucifer arrived at the castle the dull ache in his head had become a slow throbbing. One that only spiked in intensity as Barbatos led him through to the room where Diavolo and Kore were supposed to be discussing the festival. Instead he found Kore curled up sleepily in the Prince's lap, one hand absentmindedly stroking through his hair as she murmured nonsense at him. Half a bottle of some strange liquid and two empty goblets abandoned on the table before them. Diavolo at least seemed to be enjoying himself, if her occasional mumblings of "your smile is so pretty" were anything to go by. Barbatos sighed, sounding far too much like a Demon who had seen such nonsense one too many times, and cleared his throat. "My Lord. Lucifer has come to collect his charge." Diavolo looked up, the sparkle in his eyes dimming ever so slightly as the words sunk in. In his lap Kore shifted, retrieving her hand from his hair and guzzling into his broad chest. "Oh. Barbatos, I thought she might be able to stay? It's rare I get to entertain guests casually." Good grief, he looks like a kicked puppy. Lucifer thought, shaking his head. "Try explaining that to my brothers." He grumbled under his breath, earning a raised eyebrow from the butler. "I am sure we can arrange that another day Young Master. But I believe Miss Kore has plans with the brothers and it would be rude to interrupt." Diavolo nodded, though he was still pouting ever so slightly. Gently he squeezed her shoulder, bumping her awake with a shift of his knee. "Kore, Lucifer is here to bring you home." He murmured. Kore blinked slowly, eyes widening almost comically when she spotted Lucifer standing in the doorway. "Oh no." Diavolo let out a booming laugh, shaking his head at her. "As much as I would like to keep you here all night, I believe you have plans?" She frowned a little, thinking for a few moments before nodding happily, eyes sparkling. "Movie night! You should come too Dia." "I'm afraid my Lord has duties to attend to. Perhaps some other time Miss Kore?" Barbatos cut in before Diavolo could answer. "Oh, okay. Next time I visit I'll bring a film and we can have a movie night." She smiled, slowly extracting herself from his lap. Lucifer darted forwards to catch her as she tripped on her own feet a few steps away from the desk, holding her up against his chest with a sigh. "Perhaps next time you can forgo the mystery liquids Lord Diavolo?" He hummed. “The human is quite enough trouble sober.” With those final words he turned on his heel and headed out of the castle.

As they headed out of the doors and back towards the House of Lamentation, Kore peered up at Lucifer. “Lucifer?” She asked quietly, brows pulled together slightly as she spoke. “How much trouble am I in?” The eldest sighed and shook his head. “While I cannot say I’m exactly pleased by your utter lack of decorum, I am aware it wasn’t your idea to get drunk. So, I won’t punish you too harshly.” Kore pouted a little, staring up at him with as innocent an expression as she could manage. “Still sounds like I’m in trouble.” “You are. In case you have forgotten you were sat in the Prince of Devildom’s lap petting his hair. If you thought such behaviour would go unpunished then you’ve learned nothing since coming here.” She sighed. “His hair is really soft, you should try it too Lucy, it’s soothing.” “Quit while you’re ahead Kore. I would hate to ban you from movie night after all the trouble I went to to collect you.”

2. Mammon

“Oi oi! Kore!” The human turned from where she was sitting at her desk, arching an eyebrow at the white-haired demon in her doorway. “What’s up Mammon?” She hummed, tilting her head. “Oh! Did you get another contract for Devil Style?” He flushed and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting to the pile of magazines safely stacked in one corner. A collection of every issue of a magazine he’d modelled for, one she’d been so embarrassed about in the beginning. “N-no. Not that. I just had a great idea!” Kore turned properly, a grin pulling at her lips. “Go on…” “Hah! I knew ya wouldn’t laugh at me like those jerks.” He grinned, crossing the room and flopping down on her bed like he owned the place. “Let me hear what your plan is first.”

And so, Kore found herself in the midst of a very exclusive party at The Fall, having snuck out of the House of Lamentation with Mammon and the two tickets he had somehow acquired (from one of his modelling contacts apparently). Their mission, to have fun and get drunk without spending a single Grimm. Which was why she was currently attempting to flirt with a demon who wasn’t one of the boys at the bar, while Mammon lurked nearby trying his best not to interrupt in a fit of jealousy. Eventually the demon caved, ordering them both drinks, and when he moved down the bar slightly to pay with his card Mammon swooped in, grabbing one of the drinks while she swiped the other and dragging her off to get lost in the sea of bodies. “Quick, before we get caught!” She laughed, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a deep drink. “This is delicious!” Mammon chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. “Eurgh, what the hell is this?” Kore huffed, swiftly downing her own glass and snatching his from his hands. “If you don’t want it-” “Hey, hey, you can’t drink that!” He protested, trying to grab the glass back as she drank from it, spilling some down the side of her face and neck. “What if it was dangerous for humans eh?” Kore grumbled under her breath, licking her lips and trying to wipe the spilled liquid away while Mammon did his best to look anywhere but the trail of liquid glistening on her skin. Quickly he drained his own cup, grabbing both empty containers and settling them down on a table. “C’mon. We should hit the dance floor, it’ll be easier to hide.” Kore smiled, grabbing his hand and tangling her fingers between his. “I thought you’d never ask!”

Red faced and sputtering Mammon let himself be led by the giggling human further into the press of bodies. The crowd pressing them closer together, until her back was flush against his chest, his hands gripping her hips. She had danced with him before, more than once at the castle and clubs both, but it had never been like this before. This was how she had danced with Asmo that one time, drunk on fancy wine and trying to get his attention after he had neglected her for fancy trinkets all night. Her body rolled against his, pulling him back into the moment as her arm snaked backwards around his neck. Mammon huffed, squeezing her hip and burying his red face in her hair. "This is nice. We should do this more often." She hummed, nuzzling her head against his. "Ya that drunk already human?" He grumbled in response, lips pressed against the side of her head. "No way! I can get way more free drinks than that!" She giggled. "But this feels good too." Mammon sighed contentedly, squeezing her just a little tighter and enjoying the moment a little longer before they went to go 'acquire' more drinks.

"HEY! That's my drink! Get back here you bastard!" Mammon grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the exit as fast as he could. "Time to go?" She giggled, words slurring ever so slightly. "C'mon, stop laughing and run. Lucifer'll kill me if I let ya get eaten!"

3. Solomon

'Theres a gathering of a few witches I know this evening. I'd very much like it if you would come with me.' Kore read over the text a few times, frowning. She wasn't a witch, not technically at least, sure she had pacts with demons now and apparently some magical power, but she wasn't a part of magical society. 'Are you sure it would be okay for me to go?' The reply was almost instantaneous, as if the sorcerer had been watching his phone. 'Of course! You have some very strong magic Kore, you would be more than welcome.' 'Besides, I'd like you to be there. I feel like I haven't seen nearly of you lately x' Kore blushed, shaking her head at the message with a soft smile. 'You charmer :). Alright, give me a time, place and dress code and I'll be there.' 'I'll pick you up at 6. No need to dress up, it's just a friendly gathering.' Kore glanced at the clock on her screen, four hours, plenty of time to finish what she was doing and pretty herself up.

Solomon was alarmingly punctual, knocking on the door almost as soon as the clock ticked over to 6. Kore ushered him inside, still pulling at her hair to try and convince the unruly strands to stay in a neat plait. Solomon smiled softly, pushing her hands down and gently running his fingers through her hair. "Let me." "I didn't know you were a hairdresser too." She teased, leaning back into his touch. "Just a sorcerer." "That's cheating! Though at least this way we won't be late. Thank you." She tilted her head back to smile up at him. "Take me to your witches." "You've spent far too much time with Leviathan." He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and leading her out of the door. Once the place was locked up and they'd wandered far enough away from curious human eyes, he tugged her down an alleyway. Draping his cloak around her shoulders as he muttered a quick incarnation under his breath. She arched an eyebrow at the gesture but didn't protest, holding tightly to his hand as he teleported them to the meeting place.

"Solomon! You came!" "Oh, who is this pretty little thing? Did you finally take on an apprentice?" "Couldn't be! I don't recognise her. A servant perhaps?" Kore unconsciously pressed herself into his side, staring wide-eyed at the group. Solomon chuckled, pressing his palm gently against her lower back. A small gesture of comfort against the witches curiosity. "This is my… hmm… this is Kore." Kore nodded. "It's nice to meet you?" "Aha! So you're Kore? We've heard so much about you." A dark haired witch laughed, stepping forwards and wrapping a hand around her wrist. "Come, come chat. Agnes brought some of her home brewed blackberry wine, you have to try some. I'm Lucille by the way." Solomon watched with a soft smile as Kore was dragged away to chat with the younger witches, a glass of dark liquid pressed into her hands. "So that's Kore? Nik will be terribly upset he missed out." Solomon turned to the woman beside him. "She is. Try not to start any trouble Circe?" "Oh no, from all I've heard I doubt she needs my help there."

As it turned out Circe was, once again, right. Several stories and a few bottles of wine between the group later the conversation drifted onto the topic of pact-ed demons. Kore sat oddly quiet through the whole thing, leaning against Solomon's shoulder. "Hey Mags, surely you have a new story to tell us?" Solomon looked up and frowned. "Perhaps that isn't the-" "Oh come on Solomon. You'll want to hear these too, last time we were practically rolling on the floor." "I really wouldn't." Solomon sighed. "No really, you've missed out. I never knew a powerful demon could be such an idiot." Kore tensed against him, lifting her head slightly and narrowing her eyes as the unfortunate witch started her story. "...and that's how Lou got the Porsche. Honestly, none of us believed he was stupid enough to fall for it but I guess we overestimated him. And he still believes the money is going to that kid." Several of the witches were cackling, clutching their stomachs and brushing tears from their eyes. Against his shoulder Solomon could feel Kore practically vibrating with rage. Tentatively he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Try to stay calm?" He murmured softly. "Don't you feel at least a little bad?" Circe asked, ignoring the sharp look from Solomon for her stirring the pot. "Why should I? If he wasn't so stupid and scu-" What little restraint was holding Kore in place snapped. "How dare you!"

Solomon sighed, pulling out his phone and stepping away from the group. "Solomon! Missing me already?" "Sure. But that's not why I called." He sighed. "Oh, are you sure? I know my voice is wonderful… wait, is that Kore I can hear in the background?" "Ah, yes. There was a gathering tonight and I thought it would be nice to bring her along…. Unfortunately one of the witches here knows Mammon…" Solomon glanced over his shoulder to where Kore had squared up to the witch in question, jabbing a finger quite viciously in her direction while she berated her. "Oh my gosh! That's adorable! Hey Stupid Mammon, come here and listen to this!" "- don't you dare, you shut up and listen. Mammon isn't some idiot you can take advantage of whoever you want some extra cash! He might do stupid things sometimes but he's so kind, and he cares a lot, and you're trying to use that against him! You're the worst kind of person!" "Asmodeus, am I on loudspeaker?" "Of course no-" "Oi! Sorcerer! Ya tell my human to shut her trap, she's embarassin'." Solomon snorted, glancing over his shoulder. "You can tell her that yourself." "- do you know how much trouble you idiots get him into? Do you even care? You keep hurting him and you think it's all some big joke!" "Solomon! Come get your dog." One of the witches called, gesturing towards Kore. "She doesn't bite!" Kore whipped her head around at that, narrowing her eyes at the device in his hand, finally stopping her tirade. "You know damn well I do." "Oi, what was that?! What have you been doin' to my human?" "Oooh, Solomon, have you been taking advantage of sweet little Kore while you had her all to yourself? How utterly wicked of you!" "Ah. Well, I'm not sure sweet is entirely accurate. At least you didn't try to call her innocent…" He cleared his throat, suddenly aware he had spoken his thoughts aloud. "And on that note I should go. I'll be leaving her with you to cool off and sober up. Good luck."

Walking back towards the group he made a beeline for Kore. His little comment had knocked all of the wind out her rant so she was at least stood quietly at last, glaring at Mags with a ferocity Lucifer would be proud of. "I think you've had a little too much to drink." He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. "I did try to warn you. We'll be leaving now." "I'm not sorry." Kore grumbled. "I know." Circe split from the group, walking towards them as they headed away. She waved casually at Solomon, a soft smile on her lips. "I'm so glad you brought her. It was wonderful to meet you Kore." She tilted her head towards Solomon. "I'm extending your open invitation to Kore as well. Do bring her by any time." Solomon nodded. "Of course. Come on Kore, let's leave before Mags breaks out of her shock and curses you. Lucifer will have my head if I let that happen." Kore nodded, waving at the smirking figure of Circe one last time before she let Solomon whisk her away.

4. Satan (& Belphie)

"- I know right?! What was he thinking? It was so obvious!" Kore half-shouted, waving the book towards Satan. "I swear you find some of the best worst books for these." "Lady Cerewenn and the Crow was not a bad book!" Satan protested. "Fair. That was excellent, this on the other hand is wonderfully awful." She sipped from her glass and grinned. "The best kind of book to read with a drink." "So my research on human world book club traditions paid off?" Kore laughed, nodding. "So much! As long as Lucifer doesn't turn up to ruin the fun."

At that moment the door to the library created open, both demon and human cast worried glances across the room. Only to sigh in relief when when Belphie wandered in. "I thought I could hear you cackling." He chuckled, making a beeline for the sofa and flopping down with his head in Kore's lap. "I do not cackle!" She snorted, flicking his ear in retaliation. "Were you looking for me?" "Just wanted a good place to nap." He yawned. "I thought Lucifer banned wine at your book clubs after the chair incident?" "He doesn't need to know." Kore hummed. "We haven't broken anything since." "Except that vase." Kore shot a glare in the blonde's direction. "We don't mention the vase." Belphie chuckled, humming contentedly as the human started running her fingers through his hair. "Don't mind me, carry on with your book club."

"... that book sounds terrible." Kore glanced down, shaking her head. "I thought you were sleeping?" Belphie made a non-committal noise, glancing over at Satan's frown. "I'll admit it isn't my finest pick." He hummed. "I thought it would be more entertaining." "It was hillarious until the last chapter we read, they've started to lose the plot a bit now though." Kore smiled. "I've read worse books." Satan scrunched up his features in disgust, shaking his head. "Human lives are too short for bad books." "Well, since we're all here… how about a club meeting?" Kore glanced down at Belphie and sighed. "We really should keep a low profile. But… I guess I'm in the mood for a prank." "Excellent."

Thirty minutes and the rest of the bottle later the three of them were huddled around the corner from Lucifer's room. "We're sure the door opens inwards right?" Kore hummed, tapping the roll of cling film against her lips thoughtfully. "Yes. You've been in there often enough!" "Look, Satan, paying attention to how the door opens is never at the top of my list of things to think about when I go in there." "So!" Belphie interrupted, waving an arm between the bristling demon and human. "How do we do this?" "We just need to get the cling film across the doorway, as neatly as possible so he can't see it. Then we knock and run," Kore gestured to their hiding place "and we can watch him walk into the invisible barrier from here." "You know, that's not half bad for a human. Lucifer is usually on the lookout for curses, but I bet he wouldn't think of something as mundane as this." "I know, I'm an evil genius." Kore grinned. "Ready?" As quietly as they could, the three of them crept towards the room, pulling strips of the cling film over the door frame. Kore looked over it a couple of times, pulling edges taut and trying to smooth out any overlap so the wall was as invisible as possible. Finally satisfied she gestured towards the wall and nodded, lifting her hand ready to knock. She gave three sharp raps before turning and darting back around the corner to watch. After a few beats the door creaked open slowly and the trio watched as Lucifer slowly poked his head out to look for whoever had disturbed him, only to collide with the cling film.

Kore snorted, clapping a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise as she fell backwards against Satan. "You three…" "Run!"

5. Levi

Levi looked up from his game at the sound of three knocks against his door, frowning. Mammon was with Lucifer doing some extra study after his last exam results were terrible, and Kore was supposed to be out with Asmo tonight at some over the top party, no one else really bothered him unless something was happening. "What's the password?" "Uhm… it was something to do with the 2015 Seven Lords… I knew yesterday, damnit!" Levi perked up, he knew that voice. "It's okay, you can come in." Grinning, Kore opened the door and bounced across the room to settle down next to him. "I thought you were with Asmo?" "I was," she sighed, "but there were way too many strange demons, and Asmo ran into a succubus he knows…" she fiddled with her hands a little "he couldn't keep an eye on me and some of them were getting a bit handsy… he knows I left, I think, I told him anyway." A flare of jealousy spiked through Levi, if it was his night with the human he wouldn't be sidetracked by some succubus. It wasn't fair Asmo still got chances like that if he was going to ruin them! "... so I came to spend time with my favourite otaku instead, if that's okay?" Levi flushed. "Oh. U-uh, yeah, it's fine. Are- are you sure you're okay? You seem…" he trailed off, frowning. "I had a few drinks, I can go…" "No! I mean, I, it's okay. You can stay." She smiled softly at him, settling against his side to watch as he gamed.

After a few matches she had started scrolling through her phone, looking up to watch when she felt the demon beside her tense up, or start giving excited commands through his headset. When he finally hit a break between matches she tugged gently on his sleeve. "Leviachan… do you know any anime dances?" Levi frowned. "Why?" Kore showed him her phone. "This one was popular in the human world for a bit. I can do it, but it's way cooler with two people… I maybe thought I could put it on my deviltube?" Levi stared at the screen, watching the movements of the animated couples on screen. It seemed simple enough, especially the Male parts, the dance he learned for their play had been much more complicated. "We don't-" "I'll try it! B- but, it doesn't go on deviltube unless I say so… okay? Or devilgram!" Kore nodded, smiling. "Of course. Thank you Levi!" He flushed as she leant up to kiss his cheek. "H-hey! I thought you said you'd warn me!" Kore shrugged, restarting the video so they could both study the movements more closely before trying to copy them on video. She quietly copied them with her own hands, repeating motions she’d made so many times on her own. After a few more viewings Levi joined in, slow and slightly clumsy at first, but soon picking up the gestures and slotting fluidly into the little routine. With a bright, perhaps slightly tipsy, grin Kore turned to look at him, holding up her DDD. “Are you ready to film?” Levi blushed again, fidgeting with his headphones, but slowly he nodded. She bumped against his shoulder gently, her smile softening with worry. “I promise I won’t put it anywhere unless you say so, and you can always tell me no y’know?” “No. I- I mean, I want to.” He nodded towards the screen. “Just… no, I’ll try.” “Okay.” Kore smiled again. “But first, I’m going to kiss you, okay?” She turned slightly, pressing her lips softly against his this time before pulling back. It was chaste and innocent, and still managed to turn him into a blushing mess. She giggled, crawling forwards to set up the camera while she waited for him to calm down again, despite his mumbles of her unfairness.

The video never made it to deviltube in the end, there were several takes, the first couple of times Levi let his nervousness get the best of him, then as more of the alcohol she’d drunk diffused through her bloodstream Kore got more giggly and her own dancing started to falter. But the final take, the one Kore saved to keep forever, was almost perfect. Until the end when she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek, the last shot before they fell over out of view of the camera was Levi’s blushing face, frozen in shock as they overbalanced.

#halo.writes #obey me #obey me x oc #female oc #kore's adventures in devildom #mammon #diavolo #leviathan #satan #belphegor #lucifer sucks #solomon #this is entirely self indulgent

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