#though tbh hes being uncharacteristically soft | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hollyhomburg · 1 year ago

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@mocha000 This maybe isn’t the comment to say it but in my mind I think noodle totally views Hobi as his dad and the m/c as his mom 🥺 so when he’s meowing at Hobi he’s literally being like “dad do something 🥺 moms sick!” I even imagine like noodle giving a little idk- like comic going “this is my mom and I love her lots and lots, I used to be sad and scared, but then she found me and brought me home. I think she used to be sad and scared too 🥺” ahhh maybe one day I’ll make a little 12 panel about it <3 I get soft when I think of how much noodle loves the m/c

You have to understand I literally see Hobi doing his usually like- judge look when he spits out her hair like you know the j-hope stank eye? That one!! I like reading your reviews like this mostly because I figure out exactly what stands out the most to readers. It’s kind of easy to get lost in the sauce when you’re writing.

Honestly if my characters need to pee is one of the biggest things that I think about when I’m writing- it’s like an open door- you gotta say if you close it you know?

I feel like I could have gone into more detail describing geumjae’s fake dead body but after the teaser wasn’t received the best- it’s not that I don’t think people liked it- just that it didn’t get quite as much interaction as the teasers usually do- I decided to make it a little bit more readable.

Ahhhh the red text? Was it useful? Did people like a bit of a warning?

You know whenever I mention Yoongi I’ve gotta mention some tangerines- like that boys heart is made of them at this point.

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve mentioned it on this page- but your line “he’s letting her use his precious old stolen headphones” briefly reminded me of the fanfic fragments shored : ( ahhhh and the old sweatshirt Hobi and Yoongi have in that fic- it’s kinda similar <3

I think Hobi x m.c x Yoongi is gonna start to be everyone’s favorite pairing, like- both of them bickering and being best friend romatic-ey and Yoongi having such heart eyes for each of them- eternally flustered when both of them decide to band together and be cute. He’s done for. His daisy and his tulip <3

As for Jin’s idea for a solution- it was therapy that Jin and Namjoon were talking about. Namjoon was kinda anti-therapy- uncharacteristically- but that’s mostly because I think he’d like more control over the m/c’s kinda recovery? It’s very alpha of him.

Honestly- I don’t think the m/c had the energy to fight Jin properly in that section. They weren’t going to fight because she would have just picked herself up and left the room and he didn’t want that either : (

OKAY BUT- the kelvin klein photoshoot might have rotted my brain a little bit, just a litt-e I had to put that bit with the crop top in there mostly because it was so at the forefront of my mind.

You’re right in thinking that Jimin is at a weird spot after this- he’d definitely going to feel a little bit more inclined to watch the m/c after this- although he fixed the issue kind of, he’s probably gonna let jk take the majority of the work and guilt on this- although it’s not exactly in minnies character. He realizes that he’s not going to be the one to get in the way and fix it- rather just function as a support for both of them….if I had to choose someone to fix it- it would be Hobi 🥺

Ahhhhh yes, it is based mostly on my personal experiences, I’m pretty sure I’ve never given a blowjob that didn’t feel this way- which is most of the reason why I don’t write about them very often- because like the m/c I don’t find them pleasurable or even tolerable experiences because of my trauma. It’s okay though. physical intimacy isn’t apart of my life right now- and for good reason. Like the m/c I don’t know if I’m exactly capable of having a healthy relationship with physical intimacy. Sometimes you just need to take a break from it! And that’s okay! I think that’s normal and healthy tbh.

No!!! I didn’t mean that in a like- ‘how hard I try- I don’t get enough appreciation 😠 ect’ kind of way LIKE AT ALL- I was kind talking about how a lot of the word choice in each chapter connects to later sections in the chapter. Specifically in this one “the moth to honey” kind of line- the m/c- being the moth- an undesirable butterfly- and honey- Jungkook. That’s just one example there are like- dozens of little allegories that I stuff into the chapters- and I feel like it’s very easy to read over them- but they’re all purposeful. Even with the small moments I make a lot of effort to make them seem cohesive. Ahhhh I’m sorry that came off wrong- I meant more that like- my little weird word choices get overlooked- not my actual effort.

mocha, im never going to think that you of all people don't apreciate my work, i'm happy with all the love i'm able to get <3 please treat yourself gently after this chapter! i know the angst doesn't always set people off in the right mindset <3

Before I Leave You (Pt.58)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your nightmares are a troubling development but the pack won't let you drown. They have different ideas on how to help you. Some more damaging than others.

Tags: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, Cuddling, scent marking, Nightmares, graphic depiction of fake character death, Discussions of past rape, No explicit depictions of past rape/sexual assault, past domestic-abuse, flashbacks, safe-wording during sex (Sorta), unpleasant sexual encounters, under-negotiated kink, mentioned sex toys, crying during sex, Sad blow jobs, small dick jungkook, allusions to past eating disorders, anxiety, implied self-hate, self-esteem issues, non-verbal main character.

W/c: 12.9k

A/N: this chapter was originally supposed to be a lot longer- but i got too in depth with it and had to split it up. This is easily one of the more heavy chapters of bily (and that's saying something), so please be mindful of the tags! For anyone wanting to skip the super triggering parts in the next chapter i've highlighted a sentence in red font both after the first triggering section and before the very triggering ending.

Special thanks to @imperiussexrex for helping me with jk's part <3 they're the bestest <3

Previous Chapter- Masterlist

"Sleep well, my lovely little spy."

Jin’s eyes flutter open, looking up at the beta who's watching him with a gentle but noticeably tense smile. Jin’s mouth is dry, he could pretend he didn’t hear anything but there would be no use. The truth wouldn’t change.

"Holy shit.” Jin’s whole body is ridged. Ready to run. In panic mode. But Yoongi’s hand settles on his shoulder. It’s the same touch as always and just as gentle and kind as it was both this mourning and 6 years ago. Yoongi has always been a kind soul, regardless of every secret Jin's ever learned to love about him.

Letting himself be known in return feels a little bit more perilous. Jin’s heart thuds against his fingertips. He swallows hard.

Yoongi hums, agreeing with Jin’s assessment. He runs a hand gently through Jin’s hair. Tugging away loose a knot. “Holy shit indeed.”

Everything is fine. In the wake of the dead body, everything in the pack is absolutely fine.

(That’s a lie, everything is definitely not fine, everything is in fact- falling apart. Like a butterfly larva worming its way to crystalize. Carving its way towards both womb and tomb. Something that changes you or destroys you.)

Jin and Yoongi can only hope.

It’s only hope after all. How much damage can it really do?

~-~

Your unraveling starts with the Nightmares.

Tonight, it’s a dark tangle of half-forgotten moments. A movie with all of the scariest scenes copied and pasted. Bright punctures of feelings like blood dripping down your chin and the tang of it in your mouth. Geumjae’s scent in your nose as he shoves your mouth against his skin. All of it. Every unhappy memory that your psyche has locked away for later drags you down like the tide would drag a stone to a watery grave.

Until the moments condense like a figure rising through fog and you’re sitting in that house again. The one with the yellow brocade curtains pulled closed across the windows so that no one sees what happens inside.

You're sitting with Geumjae at the dining room table. The elaborate meal in front of you rises with steam and smells divine calling you like a moth to honey. The cutlery is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. A million dancing tiny versions of you stare back with vacant doll-like eyes.

You remember this meal; you remember what happened to you on this morning. The soreness between your legs reminds you of that horror. You remember how hard you worked after he left in the morning after leaving you in a bloody heap on the bathroom floor. You remember hoping that if you did everything you absolutely could to prepare this meal, He’d be satisfied and he wouldn’t hurt you again.

But avoiding rape is never quite so easy.

It was foolish to hope back then. Geumjae was a man of routine and he required your body every morning and evening without fail. But hoping is so hard to avoid, like an itch under your skin that demands biting nails, a furious sort of wanting. Hope is nothing more than a chain that drags you through the sludge when you think it might be your buoy.

In this nightmare, the other chairs at the table aren’t empty like they usually are. It’s not just you here.

He must have taken a needle and stitched your mouth shut (like he always threatened) because you feel powerless to scream at Namjoon to get away to stay back. You can do nothing more than watch as he leans over and says something to Geumjae that makes him smile. His smile makes him look like Yoongi; who sits at the head of the table and nurses a glass of wine while scowling.

Jin is on Namjoon's other side, hair combed back from his face in a way that makes Seokjin look absurdly pretty. The picture of delicate omega composure. Each of them eats like they haven't in days, shoveling food into their mouths like it’s their last meal.

Jungkook is by your side and asks if you’re going to eat your dinner roll. Puffy and crusty bread that he never would be able to eat in real life. You watch powerlessly as he scarfs it down like he hasn’t ever eaten anything more delicious. Licking his fingers from the crumbs when he finishes.

Tae is dressed in your jewels this time, not Jimin's. The necklace Geumjae gave you for your second anniversary digs into her collar bones as if it was pinned there. Like a butterfly on a piece of cardboard. Glittering with more diamonds than seem possible. Like one of those Instagram filters, every reflection mark turned glittery. Jimin’s suit is like something out of vogue.

One moment you’re looking at the perfectly edible food and the next you’re watching it rot before your very eyes. The meat greying and melting. The salad wilts gooey and spoiled. The fancy porcelain plates writhing with worms and maggots and creepy crawlies that slither out of nowhere. A spider inches its way up your fork.

No one notices. No one realizes that the bites they bring to their lips are poison. Jin licks his lips, the skin already greying and cracking.

Geumjae looks up at you from his plate, grinning all the while. Collar starched white. You haven’t heard his voice in so long but your mind remembers the exact cadence of it in perfect detail.

“What’s wrong princess? Aren’t you going to eat up?

When you look back at them it's already too late. Namjoon’s slumped in his chair staring blankly forward with bloody eyes. When you look Jin’s got his head half gone. Cut away. Wriggly things curl behind what's left of his eye.

Tae’s collarbones are bleeding where the diamond collar sits. Ribbons drip down her bodice. Jimin’s white shirt is slowly blooming red too. Bullet wounds pepper his chest. One on his shoulder and a cluster of them over his heart.

Jungkook slumps over his plate seizing until he’s still. Still the way that dolls are. Dead. Looking at you with wide vacant eyes that go grey with congealing blood.

Yoongi's hands are burning, fire licking up his clothes and he does nothing to put it out. Burning and bubbling and boiling. Skin peeling up like paint beneath the flames.

Hoseok is the only one not at the table.

Across from you, Geumjae smiles again. Baring his teeth in that animal way of his. “What’s wrong princess? I thought you said you loved them- aren’t you going to try and stop it?”

One moment he’s across the table and the next he’s leaning over you, back in that bedroom that was your hellhole less than a year ago. Pulling you by your hips to the end of the bed when you try to twist away. He fumbles with his belt buckle.

The sheets burn against your skin like its rug burn and although you weakly push at his chest. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. Your strength is nothing compared to his. It never was enough in real life anyway.

“No- no I don’t want- please don’t,” you choke. Trying to get him off of you, when he opens his mouth there are maggots there too.

You never did find out what they did with Geumjae’s body. But now you know as the rotting corpse of your dead husband assaults you. Boney hands grab your wrists as the worms drip out, dangle, and wriggle, falling onto your face and-

One of the terrible things about the big nest upstairs is that it’s really easy to get trapped in the middle with no easy way out.

Hobi finds himself in that position when he wakes. It’s the middle of the night, nearly 3 am probably when he’s roused by the familiar ache in his stomach that tells him he needs to pee.

The shades are pulled across the windows keeping the light out, and what little slips through is kept out by a thin curtain that sections off the nest from the rest of the room. Shielding the familiar lumps of packmates buried beneath the nest slumbering away.

It feels good to have all of you sleeping in one space, the instinctual pleasure flutters and builds on the edge of Hobi’s consciousness as he lifts his head. Barely opening his eyes. It feels homey in the way that Namjoon's rut nest hadn't. It's a true nest, Smelling thick and cakey sweet all of your scents drench it now after a few days of you all sleeping here. After finding the dead body, the decision had been unanimous. No more sleeping separately. No more splitting up between the upstairs nest and the remnants of yours downstairs.

Even though it's a new space some things never change. Jimin still sleeps at the edge near the bottom, guarding the nest from the most logical point of vulnerability. Although that might be because of last week.

The pack has made a few other adjustments in terms of safety since you and Hobi found the dead body. Many a moment has hobi walked into a room with Jin and Yoongi only to have them fall silent. But he doesn't have to ask what new precautions they've agreed upon.

They’ve fallen back into the habit of letting each other know when they get to work safely and when they leave, and when to expect them home (the same habit they had just after yoongi left actually) Phone locations are perpetually turned on just in case. But Hobi knows the only time any of them feel truly settled is when they’re all up here.

The nest is big. Big enough for all of you to sleep comfortably, even all sprawled out. But as thoughtful as Yoongi was when he constructed the space he certainly did not think about how hard it would be to leave for a midnight bathroom break given the walls that close in on three sides.

Now, Hobi is trapped and bound by blankets and fancy pillows and the gently sleeping bodies of his pack all around him. The border is high and fluffed. It’s in an alpha's nature to be careful around his packmates and it goes against something very basic in Hobi to even think about disturbing the carefully placed pillows and blankets, the general purposeful disarray of such a cozy nest. Alphas simply don’t fuck with omega nests.

But on the other hand, he’s seriously stuck.

Namjoon, Jimin, and Jin are at the bottom blocking off the most logical point of egress. Jin’s head rests on Jimin's shoulder, dark hair fanning. Yoongi is tangled up with Tae (her hair in these little puffy rollers). And Jungkook’s star fished and spread out by the top edge, right where Hobi was. His fingers rest under his shirt like he’s been rubbing at his stomach. Snoring softly.

Hobi’s heart swells just looking at them.

The only safe avenue of exit where Hobi won’t be climbing over two people is near the bottom left, close to Jin and Namjoon, where you lie on your side, cheek pillowed. Chest rising up and down a little rapidly in the darkness. It’s so dark that Hobi doesn’t see it at first.

Hobi’s so half-asleep that he doesn’t even realize right away that you’re not as undisturbed as the others. That you occasionally twitch like a puppy.

Hobi is no stranger to maneuvering his lithe body around sleeping packmates, muscles straining as he very gently pulls himself over you. Depressing the mattress by your side. His baggy sleep shirt momentarily brushes your face as he shifts over you.

Your reaction is instinctual, one moment asleep and the next awake. Your scent going sour all at once. Exploding in a rush. You push out with your arms, still in the nightmare.

One second Hobi’s on the bed the next he’s stumbling out of it, Barely keeping himself from falling face-first onto the floor. Bare feet slide on the polished wood when he gets them under him. Cursing out a brief “What the fuck?” looking back, ready to be angry at being shoved.

But then he sees that you're sitting up, trembling so hard that your hands can't grip the blanket to get it off of you. Eyes wide and glassy with panic. You blink and blink, lower lip wobbling.

There is a single moment where he just looks at you, but then you let out a small (and admittedly pathetic) chirp.

There is nothing like a chirp that tugs on an alpha’s hindbrain, that drags Hobi's instincts to the forefront like a hook in a fish's mouth. He's honestly surprised that the sound doesn't wake anyone else. Maybe because it's so quiet, so small.

It’s just a dream, just a very bad dream, and your pack is sleeping softly around you. The next thing you feel is Hobi gently crushing you to his chest. Smelling like caramel and boy. Tenderly whipping back your hair from your face. His warm fingertips press against your tender temples dislodging the last bit of you that can't tell if this is real yet.

“Pup? What’s wrong- what happened?"

Hobi looks about as different from Geumjae as anyone possibly could, his jaw slender where Geumjae was wide, eyes bright where his went dark and hooded. Unthreatening and normal brown in the glow.

But just like the dream, you can’t fucking speak.

“Fuck- it was just a dream, whatever it was- it’s not real- I’m-”

You’re shaking and crying and you can’t respond. Your throat is all tight. All of you that is usually happy and gentle is reduced small and scared and quiet. You can't tell where the shadows end and where reality begins. You can only feel his hands. That's the only thing that feels real beyond the terror.

You can't look around; you can't look around at the others- too scared that they'll be dead.

Thank God for the physical nature of Hobi’s job. Herking bags of soil and 30-gallon trees has honestly done him good because it means he can carry you downstairs with a little effort.

Real panic circles his head like a bunch of buzzards, threatening to pick his heart clean. "Hang on- here we go." He turns on each of the lights one by one by leaning into them. Shoulder hitting the plastic, the two of you safer with each click. "See- there isn't anything to be scared of! There's no one here but us."

Hobi is right, Hobi would never lie to you. This kitchen is not the same one from your nightmares. The blinds are blinds and not curtains, drawn to keep out the streetlights not any prying eyes. The old rickety table where the pack has their meals isn't piled with food at all. Only some tangerines in a wooden bowl in the center.

You’re small and shaky in an extra big shirt of Namjoon’s that pools on your thighs when he places you on gently the countertop with a small 'oof'. You're already a little more lucid, eyes darting from the light to the shadows and still trembling faintly. Hobi knows instantly from the stillness that you’re nonverbal. Mouth uncooperative. Your brain is a mix of misplaced adrenaline and cortisol. You smell terrified.

“It’s okay, it’s just a dream, here-” Hobi fills up a yellow plastic cup with water and tips it against your lips. The cold soothes your throat but not to the point that you can speak. You’re unwilling to detangle yourself from him. Real and warm and there now that you’ve got him. hand tangled in the front of his shirt, clinging to him.

He hums as he dabs a cold dishcloth across on your hot cheeks. “You’re okay- I’ve got you.” You lean into his hands, legs parted so that he can stand between them. You look so sad and so small that Hobi’s heart hurts.

You don’t want to speak, really don’t want to but you force yourself anyways. “Don’t remember them- usually- Or wake up in the middle- sorry- M' sorry.”

Your eyes itch, and your face feels all puffy as he continues to dab at it. The cloth is rough and Cold, but hobi's warm where his skin touches yours.

Alive and safe. you barely want to blink incase you miss it.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” Hobi continues to dab at your cheeks, “You get them often?” You shake your head instead of responding and Hobi’s scent goes thick with upset, burning sugar ever so slightly smokey. You sniffle still sort of crying and Hobi does the only thing he can think of.

Maybe it’s just that he’s half asleep himself, or an expression of his alpha protectiveness. The ringing in his ears says protect packmate, provide for packmate, soothe.

Hobi’s scent gland brushes against yours with an electric zing. Pushing you from shaky to boneless nearly instantaneously. He drags his throat and chin across your left shoulder, and then your right.

it takes real effort for him to keep his palms pressed flat against the kitchen counter while he does it but at least it has the desired effect of banishing the last bit of sogginess from your cakey scent. Your instincts purr alphas here, alphas going to keep you safe, keep the shadows at bay.

Your scent goes sweeter and your half-asleep body goes mailable as you lean into him. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, Hobi huffs a soft laugh. It feels sort of nice, having you close like this. He knows how omega's get, Jungkook goes sleepy puppet soft when he's scent marked this close to sleep too.

Yoongi would want Hobi to do this right? Yoongi would want Hobi to comfort his mate. He’d do it himself if he was awake. Hobi’s just being a good packmate. Right?

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as he pulls away. Is it just your imagination or is he a little reluctant?

A startled chirp bursts from your lips, and you clamp your hand back over your mouth. but hobi's laugh echoes loud off the high ceilings, "It's alright pup." You try to speak again but Hobi shushes you, there’s no need for you to push yourself. Not with him. Not right now.

The slant of the light across Hoseok’s face isn’t right. Too grey and yellow from the light in the hall. It’s too late for it to be morning yet and too dark for you to quiet your heartbeat. Hobi can feel it, jackrabbit fast against his throat.

If he's here, that means the nightmare really was only that. A nightmare. Hobi wouldn't be wrapped around you if the rest of the pack were dead. You don't need to go back upstairs and double-check.

Now if you could only stop crying.

“Here,” Hobi starts to pull away and you make a panicked sound, fingers tangling in his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, let me just get my bag-” You shake while he’s gone, sitting on the countertop, stumbling when you get off of it, knees weak. Holding the edge until he comes and gets you with an arm under your shoulders, transferring you effortlessly to the couch.

When did Hobi get so good at this? You’d be inclined to think this was just another dream (one of those shameful ones that you don’t even mention to Yoongi) but you’re not sure you could have dreamed this up.

“Lights off or on?” You shiver so he goes one by one turning on the overhead lights and then the lamps, the ones under the cabinets in the kitchen too. There’s not a hint of shadow here, no monster that he couldn’t guard you from.

You can still see the light behind your eyes when you close them. Blinking slowly like a cat would. Hobi has his headphones in his hand, not his usual earbuds but the dilapidated black over-the-ear headphones with peeling stickers on the sides that have been his almost as long as Yoongi has (they might have been stolen from the record store- back when Yoongi's rebellious streak ran a little wider).

The second they go around your ears the world dampens and your heartbeat slows.

“I’ve got you.” Hobi mouths, reaching to pull your head to lie against his shoulder, the blue light flicker of his phone screen hurts your eyes as he scrolls through some songs and puts one on. It’s slow and soft, mostly instrumental except for faint vocals. You can’t hear what Hobi says but he pulls you to rest against his side. Settling.

He doesn’t make you talk about the nightmare. Doesn’t make you talk at all. You melt, pressing your face into his shoulder as hard as you can, your shaking relaxing with every word. Every soft hum. It’s working, your trembling is only skin-deep now. In a few minutes, you won't be shaking at all.

“Go to bed,” he asks, even though you can't hear him. Pillowed against him. The songs shift quietly. Your hand somehow gets under Hobi’s shirt and presses against the skin of his hip. Holding it softly so that he doesn’t go anywhere, it feels like a bit of a thank you.

You cling to him and he lets you. You probably can’t hear him but he still repeats, “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

~-~

Yoongi’s never shot up faster in his life, leaving part of himself in the dream. He can feel the panic down the bond as he stumbles. The nest is too empty. Yoongi’s sleep-sluggish brain counts the number of bodies and he goes cold when he counts five and not seven. Pure shuddering terror bleeding down his back like he's just been doused with cold water.

Where are you? Where is Hobi? There is something wrong- something seriously wrong. Yoongi can feel it on the back of his tongue, the taste of your despair acidic. Once a familiar feeling, now lashing him like lightning.

Communicating directly through the mating mark isn’t something that happens often anymore for the two of you. It did when the bond was fresher, but now that it’s settled the connection has dulled. In the way that clothes go worn and comfortable. It’s not usually a stabbing pain like this. Such a visceral feeling that it wakes Yoongi up from it.

Yoongi stumbles to the door following your scent like a man possessed. The way it shifts from the nest. Panicked to not alone. Hobi’s panic too saturates the air. Yours is rainy wet and Hobi’s is burnt and over-sweet, faintly medicinal.

There are sounds on the stairs. Footsteps rouse Hobi just as he’s finally fallen asleep. His neck aches from how he’s been leaned back against the couch And he winces as it cracks.

“Hobi?” Yoongi calls cautiously. At his waist, your fingers tangle loosely in his shirt holding onto him like he’s a lighthouse in a storm, clinging to him even as you sleep. Hobi realizes he’s got a bit of your hair stuck to his lips. Spitting it out.

“Over here.“ Hobi’s jaw pops when he yawns. Yoongi stumbles to you because he can’t stay away when you’re like this. When you need him. You don’t rouse when Yoongi touches you, cupping your cheeks. Eyes feasting on the crusty salt around your eyes, the faint silvery shimmer of dried tear tracks across your cheeks.

“She had a nightmare- couldn’t sleep with the lights off so- thank god you're here I have to pee like so fucking bad-” Hobi says quietly.

Yoongi definitely does not eye the way that your hand stays loosely knotted in the front of his shirt, or note verbally the way that you smell like him. Drenched in hobi's scent and clinging to him.

“Daisy,” Yoongi says, sounding a bit surprised and alot in love, tucking his Hobi’s hair behind his ear. Standing over the two of you looking a little shaken. Yoongi is an expert at moving you softly detangling your hand from Hobi's shirt without waking you and freeing Hobi from his self-imposed prison.

He's still shaken when Hobi comes back from the bathroom. Hobi can’t blame him. You don’t really have the best track record when it comes to disappearing together. First the car crash last month, and now the dead body. It’s understandable why Yoongi’s panicked a bit.

But now he just looks at Hobi. Eyes scanning his face, a small smile beveling the edge of his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Hobi says. The faint murmur of music is barely there, you're still asleep with his headphones on. Hobi had panic made a playlist on his phone after you’d fallen asleep. Putting only the most gentle instrumentals on it.

So what if he’d saved it with a cat emoji and a purple heart? Yoongi can’t possibly know that just by looking at him.

Yoongi doesn’t respond and Hobi tucks his chin, looking down at you, sleeping soundly still. The nightmare must have really tired you out because you're out like a light. His voice goes softer, like the emotion in his throat is constraining his vocal cords.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her panic? That wouldn’t have been kind.”

Yoongi's hand falls onto Hobi's head, rubbing through his hair. the touch feels like a reward. Hobi's not sure what for. “No- it wouldn’t have been Daisy.”

“Like it when you call me that,” Hobi says. Eyelashes flutter as yoongi scratched at the nape of his neck, head bowed. and he can hear the laugh in Yoongi’s voice. Hobi’s not really awake either.

“You don’t have to worry,” Hobi says “I’m not gonna like- freak out and run away if she needs something, like the first time.”

Hobi feels embarrassed about that when he thinks about it. Embarrassed and a little bit fond of the memory every time he sees the train ticket still in his wallet. The top edge is so chewed up that you can hardly tell it’s a ticket anymore.

“Sure,” Yoongi says and Hobi knows he hasn't fooled anyone, least of all your mate. hobi stands up properly, and when his hand falls, yoongi just tugs at his wrist, the callouses on his hands comfortably rough against hobi's skin. “Come on.”

You wake bleary for a handful of seconds when Yoongi puppets you, moving to sprawl out while Hobi discards the back cushions. Yoongi slips Hobi’s headphones off your ears and puts them safely to the side. wordless and publish while yoongi gets one of the blankets to tug it over your form.

Yoongi tuts and doesn't let hobi avoid the same predicament. although it's Infinitely more comfortable than his prior half-crunched position. If Yoongi’s being honest, it sort of looked like Hobi was guarding you. body curled over in a protective stance.

Alpha's are so funny.

Hobi ends up face-to-face with you. His flannel pj set un-buttoned to the middle tugged loose from your tugging earlier. the triangle of his bare chest presses against the bare skin of your collarbone as he shuffles away from the edge of the couch. Your own pj set pulled off one shoulder. Yoongi’s sitting up, his thigh warm against the top of Hobi’s head.

You’re running a fever maybe, worming your way closer to Hobi like you need it. Your nose presses into Hobi’s chest, a little cold at the tip and ticklish. Hobi squirms and Yoongi huffs. Overly fond.

“She does that to me in her sleep too sometimes. Means she likes your scent.” Hobi feels warm, and it’s no secret that his scent fluffs up sweeter, as if encouraging you to enjoy it. You re-settle. falling asleep with your nose tucked into Hobi's sternum.

Fuck you’re both so cute, your hair mixing colors on the pillow- sharing the same one because even being that far apart is too much. Hobi falls asleep with Yoongi combing gentle touches down his back. His favorite way to fall asleep- being touched so casually and consistently. You breathe against his skin, cradled to his chest. Sleeping soundly. Finally soothed.

Hobi watches you until sleep takes him.

~-~

Unfortunately, that’s not the last time you’re woken by a nightmare in the coming weeks

Over the next few days, it seems like more often than not Yoongi and Hobi wake to the scent of your terror in the air. Quieting your little sobs with soothing touches in the bathroom. Blankets are brought into the space so that you can curl up in the bathtub, darkness kept at bay by the overhead lights, its lingering shadow curling underneath the doorway trying to drag you down.

They don’t mind, at least they tell you they don’t mind when it eventually comes time to wake in the morning and your words are barely intact. Soft and rough in a way they haven’t been in months.

For you, it feels infuriating. Your non-verbalness might only be a temporary state but that doesn’t mean that overcoming it isn’t tiring. It’s frustrating. Working so hard each day to speak only to have it wrenched away again at night.

Always.

Always you wake up from your nightmares non-verbal. Guided to somewhere light by Hobi so that your fear of the dark won't rouse the rest of the pack. Soothed back to sleep by his music and some scenting. Waking up sometime after sunrise, struggling but better. A routine.

As for the pack…

“It feels like she’s going backward,” you hear Jin confess one morning while he brushes his teeth in the upstairs bathroom. he sounds afraid (he is afraid after waking up to you gone from the nest yet again for the 5th time this week- and it's only thursday). It's obvious Jin doesn't know you're within earshot but the double doors that lead to the bathroom are wide open.

Hobi sends you a fraught look. You’ve just come back upstairs after spending a few hours in the Living Room. You're only able to risk a few more hours of sleep because the sun is turning the sky all grey-blue.

“Do you think-” What he says next is jumbled by the sound of someone turning on the shower, Jungkook or jimin maybe (the upstairs shower is large enough that honestly- all eight of you might be able to fit given you where willing to risk any soap related injuries).

Namjoon’s answering hum is all dark thunder. jin's proposed solution a mystery. “No, I don’t think that would help.”

Sometimes it’s not just Hobi and Yoongi who wake up with you.

Sometimes it’s Jimin. Holding your shoulder with that firm touch looking like he’s about to snap his teeth at any incoming shadows. Sometimes you wake and he’s already sitting at the edge of the bed watching the stairs and the windows. Shirtless, legs splayed with his handgun balanced across his knees.

Or is it just your imagination? Is that just another dream because you certainly don’t see any weapons when he and Hobi pull you from the bed a few seconds later?

They take shifts. Jin and Namjoon blanket you on both sides, soft rumbles soothing you, their quiet banter a welcome melody in your private nest downstairs. Jungkook the next night- who admittedly just wraps his body around you and goes back to sleep so quick it makes you jealous, curled around your spine while you listen to Tae read you a late-night story.

Tae’s delicate murmur does all the character's voices just right. Her lips are both mystery and familiarity. She always seems to crack open the world with the first line.

“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.”

They never make you speak; never treat you like they’re too tired even though you know they are. You can see it on their faces, on Hobi’s eyebags getting greyer by the day. Hobi’s the only one who's there every time a nightmare drags you awake. Even Yoongi doesn’t wake up every time.

(Although you confess it's more because you develop a routine. You and Hobi sleep by the side of the nesting nook, where it’s easy to get out without moving around too much. Close enough to each other that he often wakes smelling like you and you always wake smelling like him).

You try to talk with him about it. Guilt makes your heart feel all stuffy. Is it possible to get a heart cold?

“You know, you could just leave your headphones out-"

“No- don’t worry about it, I’ll just make it up later.”

Always. Always Hobi wakes and plops his headphones on your ears. Sometimes he seems awfully lively, grinning and cracking jokes when you burrow into his chest and wipe your tears on his shirt.

“I am like- among the top 10 worst sponges in history you know?”

Sometimes he wakes you from the nightmares before you’ve had the chance to jerk awake. He recognizes the tell-tale stillness, the quick breaths. He never lets you suffer for long. Waking you with a hand on your shoulder. Allowing you to shove him just a little because he knows you're just reacting to your dream and him bleeding together.

"It's just me- you're okay, I've got you."

Sometimes, you wonder if you’re not the only one who can’t sleep lately.

During the day you spend a lot of time in the nesting pod, catching up on sleep while it's still light outside. dreading the afternoons and evenings when the shadows linger like a looming storm. Alone and safe and quiet.

Occasionally you're joined by noodle, purring up against your stomach. Meowing at you until you lift your arm and he can cuddle close. Sometimes you feel like he knows you’re sadder than you say you are. That when the others aren’t there to watch you, you’re stiller, less mobile than normal. You don't even click away at your phone, half the time you forget to charge it anyway.

Hobi would never tell you- but a few afternoons ago he’d come home to Noodle waiting for him on the front step. He’d lead Hobi inside, little kitty face glaring back at him every few steps. Circling his curled form and yowling when he dared to take a second to take his shoes. off. Panicked and nervous, all but biting on his ankles before he led Hobi into the sunroom. His bushy tail held high.

There he’d meowed woefully at your nesting pod where you slept soundly. So loud that Hobi was worried it would wake you. As if he was trying to say “Aren’t you going to do something?”

Hobi had just quieted the cat with a soft shush and picked him up. Closing the door behind both of them. “Let her sleep nu,” he’d gotten nothing but a tearful meow in response. Some squirming, but no claws. “What do you expect me to do? I’m trying my hardest.”

Noodle keeps his secrets. Hobi’s question goes unanswered by the cat- who’d simply squirmed out of his hold and gone to wait by the door to be let back in. Glaring at Hobi’s retreating figure like he’d been betrayed.

Noodle seems to know something that the pack doesn't. He's sat in your lap during dinner and breakfast every single night this week, especially on the days you’ve slept more.

Hobi continues to try his hardest. He brings home flowers from the shop. He says they’re for Jin but puts them by the nesting pod and no one even bothers to tease him. He makes sure that you don’t fall out of the habit of going on late-night drives. Even though you don’t go back to the beach again quite yet. The memories there are too prescient.

Hobi takes you to the winding mountain road again. Drag racing one night with Jimin, because what good is trying to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before sunrise when you’ll just wake anyway? You might as do something fun until you’d wake up normally.

You leave that night a little more wobbly-legged than Hobi will admit to Namjoon when he asks later. "I'm never getting into a car with you again Minnie- what the fuck."

But sometimes the alphas do use the sunroom when you’re there.

It’s kind of nice to hear them on the other edge of your senses. When you’re dozing and Tae and Jimin want to play video games. their shouts of happiness and false outrage better than their screams of terror.

When Hobi and Jungkook want to do some stretching before they take an afternoon run, their giggles push out the memories of cruel words that ring in your ears. Yoga mats all stretched out and noodle perched on the edge of Hobi's multicolored one. Watching you, tail flicking back and forth.

They'll never know how much they help just by being there.

Or when they work on rearranging Hobi’s plants around. Fitting them into different spots like a jigsaw puzzle and moving them from room to room. He doesn’t mean to be indecisive about it, he’s just trying to find the best home for each of them.

They take the big banana tree upstairs to put it in the nesting room because that honestly has really good light and Hobi’s baby can’t be compromised. They move the monstera there too and switch the string of pearls for three big ferns hanging above your nesting nook. Shifting A big fig tree that honestly looks kinda pretty from the entryway to the corner, hanging part of the way over the small sectional.

A leggy orchid that someone bought Namjoon as a “thank you for not letting me go braindead” present is the wimpiest and smallest of the bunch. Hobi's in the process of rehabilitating it. For now, it sits on the window sill growing a single pathetic leaf.

Hobi tries to spend a lot of time nearby when you’re trying to sleep, he always seems to show up when you're having the hardest time ignoring your thoughts.

They're getting tired of you being a goddamn mess every time. Why can't you just get better? It's pathetic, Hobi is fine. Why are making such a big deal over this? But deep down you know it's not just the dead body that caused all of this.

Things are slow at the flower shop in the fall with only the occasional wedding until the Christmas season starts up. Hobi talks to you about it while he waters his plants and trims up some leaves that are dying. He’s definitely not looking forward to making bows for the whole month of December and wrestling with wreaths. He’d much rather talk to you about his ferns. The big stag leaf one that’s in the corner by the tv. And the big fluffy ones that hang above the nesting pod.

“I know they're messy but If I overwinter them we can hang them back on the porch next year, They looked so nice!”

You hum from the pod, turning your cheek to look up at him. he's got his flannel rolled up to his elbows, a shirt underneath that looks homey and warm. Hobi’s scent grows sweet. “They did look really cool this year, kind of like big green soot sprites.”

“We should watch spirited away again.”

“We should.”

You stretch out in the nesting pod while he fiddles with one of the fronds, pulling off the dead leaves with a crumple. You stretch your curled-up legs, toes brushing the ratan sides of the pod.

“If I was a plant where would you put me?”

“Probably where it’s sunniest.”

You can hear his smile on the words, you hum and go back to sleep while he works. Hobi checks your breathing every few minutes, just to make sure you don’t need to be woken up again.

Hobi never talks about the nightmares and never asks what they’re about. Which is something you’re thankful for as the days go on and they get worse and worse. You don’t know how many more nights you can wake up gasping without telling them what you're dreaming about. That it's the idea of them dying that has you so panicked. not to mention the nightly revision of the worst parts of your abuse.

Yoongi doesn't always let you escape without a bit of interrogation. Badgering you until you tell him that he needs to stop.

Jin’s just as bad, constantly hovering. You found your sleep schedule, an estimated hours of sleep you’ve gotten scrawled on the edge of a newspaper in Namjoon's handwriting. He's a little generous with his calculation- You know you haven't slept 13 hours in the last 4 days. You’d crumpled up the page and thrown it in the garbage.

In the morning you find out their motive behind it. Blinking down at your cereal and at the red raspberries bobbing in the milk. You can't help but get defensive about this; because really when you go non-verbal so often about this- what good would talking do?

“Jin, I’m not going to therapy.”

Jin looks a little bit less like his usually put-together form, button-up shirt a little looser than it might have been a few weeks back. Yoongi rubs down his shoulders as he passes. Work has been keeping Jin later and later- anytime someone asks he says something about a problem child at the home for forgotten pups that needs Jin's full attention.

It's so very like him to suggest therapy.

He pulls his fingers through his hair, trying to comb it into something orderly. Abandoning his usual routine of gel and mouse. “I’m not saying you have to go consistently- just once or twice, you went through something-“ he breaks off when Yoongi taps his hip, shaking his head.

You’re twisting your hands over your lap, again and again. But the word lands even though it was unsaid. Whereas before you and Hobi had a smart retort- now- the word feels less hollow, more heavy.

And Jin's not just talking about the body.

Jin doesn’t want to be frank, but you don’t look the best. Maybe it’s because you’d been so steadily getting better that they hardly remembered what sadness looks like on you. But now it looks like this; you sitting at the island counter, looking at your food, too nauseous to eat. Actually worried you're going to vomit if you try.

Any other morning, Jin would sit by you and coach you through it, would sit and wait for you and move you somewhere safe, somewhere softer to prod. He'd chase this worry with gentle touches. maybe he'd give you a gentle settling if you were feeling like you needed to reach that happy hazy head space to eat.

Any other morning Jin wouldn’t leave you.

But this morning, the clock says that Jin has exactly 20 minutes before he has to leave for work or else he’ll be late and miss the debriefing on the latest string of murders and drug-related reports. including a very well worded anonymous tip. it's important that jin's there for that.

It’s not enough time to drag you to some corner of the house and scent you happy. Or better- scruff you down into omegaspace where you’d be mailable and more agreeable under his touch.

Yoongi's eyes say, go I've got this, and Jin has never been more thankful for lovely enemies and a partner in crime.

But Jin simply does not have enough time to love you as he should. If Jin has to choose between making you feel loved and making you more physically safe he'll choose the latter every single time.

Baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and criminal empires won’t fall that quickly either.

“They’ll go away, I know they’ll go away because they did last time,” you reaffirm, only half believing it. You and Yoongi don’t talk about when you first moved into this house, but the truth is these nightmares aren’t really anything new for either of you.

At least this time they don’t come with you hurling your guts up every night. At least this time your words return in the middle of the day. At least you feel somewhat human right now.

Jin sends a fraught look in Hoseok ’s direction. Clearly requesting backup. He holds his hands up, straw in his mouth and ice coffee in his hand. “I’ll go if she goes.” Is all he says backing away. Clearly not ready to take Jin’s side with this. Late for work himself.

Jin almost misses when you guys were adversarial, rather than banded together as a unified front.

I never expected the pups to unionize

He sends Namjoon in a text a few hours later, After no less than 3 separate meetings that have him feeling more than a little tired himself.

Joonie (1:18): Really? I’d thought you would have been ready, no plans to destabilize the monarchy up your sleeve?

Jin can’t stop his smile, he’s conscious of who might be watching, so he hides it with his palm. Flirting on the FBI’s time has never felt so good.

What would you recommend?

Joonie (1:23): Spanking and sweets probably.

That at least had made Jin feel a little bit more at ease. But he knows what Namjoon really means, that he’s saying they should talk about this later face to face. Or worse there isn’t an easy solution. Namjoon had warned him that a request for therapy, however gentle and well-worded it was, might not go over well.

But what else can you do when someone won’t accept your concern? When love falls short? For the first time ever Jin is unsure what you need.

Over the next few weeks, you can tell that they’re being overly gentle with you. Treating you with velvet gloves.

Namjoon barks an order at Jungkook and Hobi when they rough house too close to you. jostling you where you stand unsteady in the bathroom. Tae lets loose a sleepy growl when Jungkook back hugs you one morning- something ordinarily innocuous but now makes you flinch hard. hand pressed over your heart to stop its thundering. Both times Jungkook tucks his tail smelling sour at being scolded even though it's really not his fault.

Everyone's instincts are running on high. Your scent is so off these days. Something about it muted and only getting duller. Jin didn't realize until the other day when he tried to find a pillow that smelled like you while nesting and couldn't.

The head of the FBI's largest organized crime task force, brought to sniffles over not being able to find the right pillow. What would Jin's enemies think?

Yoongi had only sighed, and relinquished his shirt to Jin's nesting. At least that was the next best thing.

but it's not only the little things that they're holding off from; it's sex too. You can clearly tell that they want to instigate something when you come upstairs one night after spending a few minutes with Tae in the library room.

Jungkook sat's tight across Namjoon’s lap. Moving his hips in a way that's sensual clinging to the pack alphas bare chest and licking into his mouth like an omega starved.

You know what they want to do- christen the nest in a way, truly break it in and make it smell like the pack.

But they'd stilled at your appearance and you'd made yourself scarce, clearly not ready to be asked to stay (or scarier- asked to leave). When you'd come back after showering the room had smelled of sour unhappy arousal and Jungkook had been pouting on the other side of the nest from Jin and Namjoon.

You hadn't heard the whispered argument. "You're treating her the exact same way you treated me when my seizures went bad."

"That was a different circumstance Koo and you know it."

"Still- it doesn't change the fact that you're making the decision for her instead of making a place that's safe enough for her to decide what she wants."

The idea that Jungkook and the others are holding off for your sake has you feeling even more guilty.

Even Tae- once insatiable, now hardly lifts her head from her computer when you walk into the library room wearing next to nothing. You know it’s just that. Just busyness that she's been spending every available second writing her new story.

But you can’t help but feel odd about it. Half guilty and half extra. Unwelcome.

Neglected isn’t the right word. Neglected is the word that Hobi would use for his orchid or the cactus that he accidentally forgot about outside. Two plants that are equally as finicky, opposites but maybe not in terms of difficulty. One praised for being beautiful, the other coveted for being hard to take care of.

It feels like that a lot of the time, that you're just hard to take care of. you're an adult you shouldn't even need to be taken care of at all.

That night- you toss and turn in the bed. Unable to sleep because you can't help but think about it, your thoughts a rushing torrent of you're such a bother. Maybe they're just trying to let you down easily. Maybe all of the love is a lie. You should try harder, if you try harder to overcome this then maybe they won't ask you to leave.

Sadness has rotted your brain a little, you don't know how to get back, how to stop the spiral. Until your hands are so tight that your nails dig into your palms. Leaving bloody little crescents.

The next day you try to catch up on sleep. In the nesting pod. A dark spot. Out of sight and out of mind, where all broken things go when it's clear they can't be fixed in a way that makes them useful. But it feels like you've only slept a few minutes when you're roused- not from a nightmare, but because someone gets into your nesting pod with you.

You smile in your sleep at the scent of honey, rich and golden. So nice and sweet that it makes you get goosebumps. Jungkook noses at them, dragging his cheek along the hair on your arms, soft and pleasant in that sensory sort of way.

Even though the nesting pod was a gift from Namjoon you'd been clear to Jungkook and Jin that they could use it whenever they wanted to. They're always a little bit more inclined to nest upstairs.

You sleepily hold out your arms for Jungkook, only cracking your eyes a little. You're not prepared for the sight of him in a crop top. blinking as you register it. Your pulse climbing higher. Jungkook doesn't say anything, doesn't say anything at all as he pulls his body along yours, settling mostly on top of you. quiet until you query "Kookie?"

He smells a little like the gym, but more like he'd showered there and then come home. You don't remember what day it is, what his schedule was. But the house is quiet around you, it must be one of his early days then?

His nose rubs smooth little circles along your neck, and when you pull back his eyes are a little glassy. "I miss you," he says, voice cracking a tiny bit. You don't have to ask why he misses you when you're right here. You know and your heart clenches painfully.

you laugh, "you just saw me this morning." but his lower lip wobbles, and you know thats not what he meant. it's frightfully easy to knot your fingers in his hair and pull him down to eye level. "c'm here."

You can tell by the way that Jungkook kisses you that he wants you, his arousal burning skin deep as his tongue laves against your lower lip and his hand slides down your chin to cup your scent gland, fingers pressing over the sensitive skin delicately.

You're so fucking tired.

Jungkook’s sex drive is honestly the highest in the pack, and you know that they usually keep him well tended to. But you also know that because of your predicament, no one’s tended to his needs in the last few days. You can smell it on the edge of his scent. Sweet but overly sweet, like a hovering cloud of settling perfume, unable to settle. Just getting stronger.

It’s not your job, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s job per se, but the idea of turning him down is so displeasing that you won’t even if you’re not really in the mood right now. You're so fucking tired. There isn't room for anything else. you don't have the energy to want this, you don't have the energy to want anything but sleep.

You kiss back, a little gentler than he wants, the soft needy noise he makes against the seam of your mouth tells you just how welcome it is. Your arms are sluggish as they go around his shoulders. He grins happy, and you grin too- because Jungkook’s joy is honestly so infectious. You let him tug you up, tug you out of the nesting pod even though your heart lurches.

This is your use to the pack, isn't it? The youngest omega, the lowest one in the hierarchy. You shouldn't say no and deny Jungkook what he wants. This is the way that he feels free, the way that he makes himself better.

After the pack's sleeping quarters had changed, there’d been a whole debate over where exactly to put the pack's sex toy collection and what to do with their old bedroom on the first floor. The side closet is no longer big enough or in use.

Installing some shelves in the bedroom had been the easiest solution. now they frame either side of the windows, holding Tae's overspill of books at the top and a few display cases. You remember the first day you'd wandered in here in search of your mate and found some suspicious-looking brackets installed along the ceiling studs, sawdust piles sweeper up on the floor.

“It’s totally not a sex dungeon.”

“Babe, you’re making a display for Jungkook’s dildo collection with a built-in sex bench.” At least you can still tease your mate when you're sad like this. Every little semi-normal comment you make feels like seeing the sun during a break from the storm. Even Yoongi's pout is half a smile.

“Just because I want there to be a bench doesn’t mean It’s a sex bench. It could be for like- watching tiktok and stuff. You know Hobi likes to find a spot where he won't bother us.”

“It’s totally a sex bench.”

“Is not.”

Yoongi is too fun to rile up. You'd watched him blush as you and Jungkook had playfully grabbed and swung on the ropes Yoongi was hanging, the heavy thick cotton ones soft to the touch that won’t irritate his loves sensitive skin. testing out the brackets meant for suspension.

Jungkook’s just as giggly and happy when he drags you there now, and your smile is very real pressed to his shoulder. The farthest thing from fake. it might be the first time you've smiled today. Jungkook always makes you feel this way; a little younger, a little bit like you’re sneaking around. That at least feels right.

You're very good at concentrating on the parts of sex that feel good, the parts that you want and not the ones that you don't.

(This morning the others had talked about it with Jungkook. Jimin and Tae had cuddled close to brainstorm. The way they often talk about sex things and pack things. Jimin's snorted honesty still stings.

"I don't know if Yoongi could literally fuck the sadness out of her, but at least it's a suggestion."

Jungkook had felt petulant and whiney, "But why doesn't he just try- if anyone's got a magic just right dick it's him-" Tae had chased Jungkook's disappointment with a kiss.

The truth is; the pack is mostly at a loss with how to help you this time. The most they can do is just stay close and make sure you have everything you need. But lately, not even that has felt like enough. Tae had scrapped her nails down Jungkook's abs, soothing him, with a bit of tingly pain pleasure.

"You're the only one whose bad mood can literally be cured with a good fuck bunny.”)

Yes, Jungkook is trying to make you feel lighter in the only way he knows how right now. But there are different medicines for different hurts for a reason.

Jungkook guides you down to the sex bench, tugging at your shirt a little. Still kissing you. Up close you realize it's actually more of a daybed, styled very attractively with a few throw pillows. One that's more memory foam and sturdy for propping bodies up.

It's no secret how sweet turned on happy Jungkook smells from just a little kissing, just the bare minimum. Jungkook moans- a crocked needy sound, scent pulsing richer in the air. He squirms a little bit, reaching over to one of those shelves. Rummaging in one of the frosted acrylic buckets.

“I’ve had this idea for weeks now that you've taken Joonie’s- fuck- I just- I didn’t know when you’d want to try it but I saw this video online with two omegas and Jin said no but- ha! Here it is!”

You gulp.

The big purple thing is a veritable monster, glittery and double-ended, ridged not like a regular dildo but more like a tentacle. It's about as thick around as your wrist. Namjoon’s a little thicker but still-

it makes fear trickle down your spine, warm and almost bleeding.

Jungkook reads your expression. And the disappointment crests his cheeks, his bunny smile falls, and you feel like you’ve failed already.

At the thought of being filled right now. You feel like you might want to vomit. You try not to have any sort of expression, just a small smile- but fall abysmally short. You’re too tired, too sore, too tight to properly enjoy that.

The idea that your sadness is enough to get in the way of this, what Jungkook so clearly needs is suddenly too much for you to bare. Jungkook needs sex, doesn't he? He needs it to make the seizures feel not quite so damning. He'd told you once- how much he required sex to feel loved. It's his love language right? Isn't this what people always say when they want physical touch?

Who are you to say that your needs are more important than his? You certainly do not love yourself as much as you love him.

Jungkook’s frown is heartbreaking and you easily kiss it away. Making your kisses more eager. You’re a good kisser and a good actor. Your kisses make Jungkook feel all fluttery and hot in the chest, quickly forgetting about the dildo and whatever plans he might have had.

"Just want you- don't want-" words get in the way of kissing, sucking, you mouth at Jungkook's lower lip, making him groan.

Jungkook’s scent gland is a semi-swollen little lump under your teeth as you nibble on it, making him part his legs, grinding up into nothing and letting out a breathless whine. You set yourself across his lap and his big hands quickly fist on your waist pulling you snugly.

You don’t mind this, you really don’t.

It's too routine for you, the first thing that you reach for to avoid saying no. His belt buckle is warm against your palm as you shift so that you can slide to the floor. Pulling your body away from him. he lets out a needy bereft sound. stopping you as you start to tugg at his waistband.

his cheeks are pink, lips red from kisses when you pull back. "I-"

"Let me kiss you here Koo." Let me at least do something. Let me stop feeling so guilty, I know how to fix the guilt even if you don't.

Jungkook catches your chin before you sink to the floor. Jungkook has a hickey on his abs glimmering there just along his hipline. The crop top pulled up to right under his pectorals in a way you know would have the alphas growling and mouthing at his stomach. That's probably how he got the hickey in the first place.

“But you don’t like it.” He says, not quite understanding. Catching your hand as you slide it across his knee.

“I want to try.” You lie, "I-I feel like I’ve lost practice, need to be taught how-” You bat your eyes, looking down and away like you're embarrassed. Just let me do this and make you cum. Just let me get this over with so that we can go back to cuddling and I can feel safer. Jungkook always gets especially cuddly after he's cum too. “I don’t- I don’t do it for the alphas like at all." Your stuttering isn't all faked. You’ve lost practice in a lot of things, but lying clearly isn’t one of them.

“Or Yoongi” Jungkook notes. A little too quickly.

Your heart pulses, Bruised a bit at that. You've never explicitly discussed the abuse you underwent with anyone but Yoongi and Namjoon. You didn't think anyone really noticed how much you don't like giving blowjobs. It's not that you don't want to reciprocate or touch- it's just that once with Geumjae, the choice to reciprocate was taken away from you. The choice to get anything at all was always taken away. It's hard to forget that, to want it again.

You remember his words. He'd always been violent with words before he'd ever gotten violent physically with you. Coercion doesn't feel like it has the same weight compared to that (Hobi would probably argue with you- but his case was different wasn't it?)

"You're so fucking selfish, you could help me in like- 10 minutes but you're choosing not too. We could go back to having a normal fucking evening. I do so much for you and even now when I can't fucking sleep you won't just do this one fucking thing- it's not like I'm asking for much. You're too young, I should have known you wouldn't know how normal relationships function."

It's foolish of you to think that you could be selfish forever. You should get used to this with Jungkook so that it's not so bad with the others later. In case they ever realize how selfish you've been.

“Yeah,” you swallow back a lump in your throat. “But can I? I want to-” You make your eyes wide, biting your tongue hard so that your scent doesn’t go sour.

Jungkook looks like he’s warring with himself for a second but then the hornyness wins out. He pulls his pants down his thighs and you help him, big and muscular as he stands, you on the floor before him. It feels right in a twisted way. See I know my place, see I'm not trying to get away with anything.

Jungkook almost trips when he moves to get a pillow for your knees because he’s not a monster. Namjoon and Jin have taught him well.

Jungkook is not a monster.

If you said no, if you said that you wanted to stop you know he wouldn’t hold it against you. At least not at first, at least not this time. After the 4th or 5th or 10th attempt you know that wouldn't be the case.

Jungkook doesn't even have large enough of a cock for it to feel like a real blowjob. His bunny eyes are wide and eager as you give it a first little kiss. Tentative. You kiss the head again, focusing, dragging your lips up the sides and nuzzling into the skin of his hip, indulging in his scent because at least Jungkook smells nice, smells clean, before you take him into your mouth

Geumjae always smelled a bit like piss. Tasted like it too. At least Jungkook's not like that.

He can be forgiven maybe, for not noticing right away. For not asking if you want this twice. A muted curse falls from his lips instead and he carefully cradles your head. A little startled.

"Fuck- ah-" The muscles of his abdomen tense beneath your touch, startled by the sudden influx of pleasure and the wet tight hot heat of your mouth. "I don't think you need any practice- fuck-"

Omega cock tastes less bitter than alpha cock does. And Jungkook’s dick is honestly so small you can’t even choke on it properly. He doesn’t hit the back of your throat when he rocks it into your mouth. Eking pleasure from the tight seam of your lips.

He doesn’t even hit the back of your throat or engage your gag reflex. So, you wonder why your eyes start watering. One of his hands fists (albeit a little bit too sloppy to be totally gentle) in your hair, using it to keep you stationary while he fucks your mouth. Little rolls of his hips that end in cute, "ah-ah-ah" sounds leaving his lips.

Good, you're doing good. Your nose is buried in his skin. With the little tuft of hair there, Jungkook must have showered at the gym because it doesn't smell like anything. Just breathe.

You know Jungkook doesn't get stimulation to his cock often. The others much prefer to fuck his hole rather than pay attention to it and that works in your favor now because Jungkook's so sensitive. You feel his cock jerk a little, tensing as his abdomen does, flexing up against the pallet of your mouth. Especially when your tongue teases at the head. Finding the ridge of his frenulum and pressing up.

Your lungs sting but you keep your tongue flat, lapping up at the underside, keeping your mouth wet and messy and not swallowing yet. Jungkook's precum tastes a little salty, not as salty as alpha cum would taste like but still not bad. Just a little bit like sweat and a little bit like honey.

Jungkook looks down at you, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead his lips falling slack in pleasure. Hips twitching up, looking debauched and lovely from it already. Pride swells, even as you have to fight back the urge to gag. Quieting the revulsion in your stomach through force of will alone.

You can do this, you don't have to make a big deal over it-

Jungkook tips his head back, closing his eyes, and you're free to shudder unwatched. "Fuck- just like that- you're so good at it, fuck-" You wonder if you get this same wide-eyed subspace look when you’re sad if that’s why he doesn't notice. Your knees burn, hands tighten. One on his hips the other digging into your thigh.

You hear someone outside in the hall and before you have the chance to even think about pulling off they're opening the door. Jimin almost trips, Clearly not expecting to see you on your knees or Jungkook with his legs splayed and shirt rucked up to show his tummy.

You pop off Jungkook’s cock easily, jaw aching already (you really are out of practice) Jimin’s look is all predatory, alpha pheromones bubbling up. One second startled, the next prowling in your direction like a jungle cat.

“Ah pups, getting into trouble? Pups having a treat?”

Jungkook giggles, spreading his knees wider, fingers stroking down your cheek as you catch your breath. Wiping the spit from your lips. “We’re not done yet,” he huffs. You blink up at Jimin and the touch he drops on your head is everything. Soothing your frantic panting. You push up into it, eager for a casually loving touch.

"Wanna make some trouble with us?"

“maybe, think i'd much rather watch" He teases, jutting his chin at Jungkook and settling down next to him, leaning on his chin to watch you as you're urged back to it. You kiss Jungkook's cock again as the alpha guides him into a kiss. Settling his happy-turned-on pheromones into a thick bubble that bursts.

You lap at Jungkook’s cock head, making it messy. Watching the two of them get distracted by kissing, licking into each other’s mouths. Jungkook's hand falls from your hair in favor of cupping Jimin's thigh.

And you below them, an afterthought.

You ignore the longing in your chest and go back to sucking Jungkook off. After a minute or two, Jimin's hand returns to your head, his knuckles rub against your cheek in lazy circles.

It would feel loving any other time but not right now. Not when you're trying to ignore the voice that whispers in the back of your mind that this is all you're good for. On your knees, mouth open. Finally useful. Finally worth the bother of loving. A voice that doesn’t come from any of them but sounds suspiciously like Geumjae's occupying your thoughts.

Jimin's hands are on your head too, rubbing against your cheek. Wiping away a little bit of spit on the corner of your lips. He clearly thinks you're deep in omegaspace. Interpreting your quiet softness for that sweetness and not this devastation. there is always a moment of quiet before a disaster, an intake of breath where everyone braces for impact.

“My good little princess, making your packmate happy, look at you pup,” Jimin croons. Clearly enjoying the pretty picture that you and Jungkook paint.

If anything, it's hearing that old pet name that makes you break. You're fine until you're not.

You're just so tired.

There is wetness on your face and it’s not spit or slobber or cum just tears. Little sniffles. your first one goes un-noticed by them, but not the second or the third. Jungkook freezes. And suddenly the fingers on your cheeks aren’t pulling you closer to Jungkook’s hips but off. Tilting your face. Jimin's hands quickly push Jungkooks away.

Jimin has stoney eyes, his mouth hard and discerning, lips parting. “Pup?” Jungkook’s already got his hand on your arm bunny eyes the soft opposite to Jimin’s. Jimin effortlessly transfers you from the floor to the couch. "Oh pup."

You wipe at your tears stubbornly. “Just one second, just give me a second and then I can keep going I promise, I’m fine- I’m fine” you keep repeating it, keep saying it but you smell so sour-sad. Your pout wobbles hot tears welling up threatening to spill over renewed.

But in what world would they ever let you cry during sex without pre-negotiating? In what world would they let you cry without comforting you?

“I don’t even know why I’m crying but I can't stop-”

No sooner have the words slipped past your lips are they pulling you up from the floor and into their laps, manhandled and small. You fight it a little. but Jimin crushes you to his chest and you sag. t

Jungkook has never gotten less turned on quicker, a packmate's distress takes so much precedence over this. Pulling up his pants. His pleasure isn't even a thought in the back of his mind. You take precedent.

Jungkook thought you knew that.

He feels helpless, helpless as you scrub angrily at your mouth, he uses his sweatshirt sleeve to wipe the saliva and spit from your mouth, then your tears from your cheeks. "Oh fuck- I'm so sorry- fuck I-"

And oh, you're crying into Jimin's chest now, real tears. Sobbing harder.

Jimin glances up and for a second he looks a little angry. He has every right to be angry at Jungkook for this. He's barely been here for like, a minute and a half. But the anger isn't welcome, you're too close to Jimin's scent gland, flinching when he starts to smell sour. Pulling back, so so so terrified, quivering in his lap.

"I'm sorry alpha, just give me a second and I'll get to you too-"

Now Jimin's angry for a whole new reason, angry at people he can't punish, people who are already dead. Jimin feels his anger in his hands. Struggling to stay gentle on you.

Oh fuck that.

Jimin’s fingers pinch at the back of your neck, scruffing you until your scent mellows out a little. "None of that now." He snaps, sharp shifting from concerned packmate to commanding dom effortlessly. "You'll do no such thing. You're going to stay right here until I tell you I'm done holding you."

Jimin's firmness is exactly what you need. You feel his power in his arms, crushing you, restraining you. Jungkook is not a dom, and that has never been clearer than right now. if he was than you would have never gotten into this predicament. "Can't you be good and do what Alpha asks?"

"Yes Alpha" you sob.

Jungkook looks at you guilty, eyes swimming with tears too. He's always been a sympathetic crier but he doesn’t let them spill. Even if Jimin spies them. His lower lip wobbles as he looks at you. Reaching out to hold you too and then snatching his hands back at the last second. If Jimin's touch is your remedy then Jungkook's is surely poison. “Why didn’t you-”

“I just- I just didn’t want to be bad.” You know what they’re about to say, that saying no wouldn’t have been bad but your brain is all terrified of it.

“M’sorry” Jungkook wants to say that there’s nothing you’ve got to apologize for that it’s him that should, but it’s difficult. It’s so difficult when you’re crying so hard it kinda feels like you might pass out. hyperventilating a little. He can do little more than loop his arms around Jimin's waist and trap you between the two of them, sandwiching you. Applying pressure. Holding you tight. In a way that has you instantly plummeting. Down past subspace, past omegaspace, where everything is dark and bland and nothing. Where you're nothing.

“M’sorry Koo-” He doesn’t trust his wobbly voice to speak as you sob out, “Don’t tell them, don’t tell Namjoon and Jin or Yoongi please- don't want them to worry. It’s not Koo's fault it's mine. I’m fine. m' just feeling off. I’ll be better alpha I promise.”

Luckily there is no one home. No one is home to hear any of this. Jimin has always been perilously unable to deny his girls their silly wishes. And if the idea of Namjoon or Jin knowing has you panicking anew then Jimin will take this secret to the grave.

Jimin soothes you with a happy alpha rumble, feeling exactly the opposite- wishing there was Namjoon or Jin to call for backup. This is clearly not normal crying. Jungkook surely couldn't have put you into subspace but somehow you're dropping. Leaning in to every word that graces Jimin's lips like you need the absolution he brings.

“But you’re already so good for us pup- already so good for saying no even though it was hard. Here. Lie out so we can hold you. Here.” It's what you wanted from the beginning someone close by enough to touch enough to cuddle.

Only this time it feels even less like you deserve it.

You make yourself as small as you can. Jungkook and Jimin alternate, kissing off your cheeks. Until you stop crying and fall asleep. Crying yourself back to sleep. You really were just sleep-deprived.

Jimin's got one arm around your waist, another cradling the back of your head. And only once he's absolutely sure that you are completely asleep does he hiss over the top of your head.

"Jungkook What the hell-"

"I asked, you know I asked. She said she was okay I swear-"

A whispered argument ensues, drawn out until the others come home. Their anger quieting at the sound of them, Yoongi softly calls your name. Mindful of the fact you could be sleeping.

When you wake up around dinner time you're non-verbal and pupish. There are too many people around for Jungkook to be able to pull you to the side and ask, to just talk this out. He watches you close at dinner, watches and waits for a chance to talk to you that won't come. You'll pretend you're asleep tomorrow when he wakes, just to avoid it for a little while longer.

If the others notice anything strange with you at dinner time no one broaches it. Of course, you don't speak at all. Answering their questions with shaken heads and careful nuzzles under Tae’s chin where you sit side by side with her. Your chairs pulled together so that they’re more of a bench. She smells so good- so Rosey that you press your face into her shoulder to avoid the other's eyes.

Never mind the fact that you don't smell like anything at all. Maybe you're dissociating too bad to smell like anything. So disconnected from your emotions that you can't feel them let alone smell like them.

After dinner you take an extra long in the shower so that by the time you exit the bathroom Jin has already scruffed Jungkook sleepy. He looks cute too. Pouting in his sleep, restless.

There's an extra soft nesting space carved out just beside him that he made special for you with a few pillows and his favorite nesting things. It will go unused.

That night, you don't bother trying to sleep.

~-~

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Upstairs floor plan:

Chapter playlist:

Noah Kahan - Call your mom

Coldplay - Sparks

nick cave and the bad seeds - O' children

Pine Grove- Need too

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x-amount-verbs · 3 years ago

Text

Learning the Rules

(inspired by @insult-2-injury ‘s Professor/TA grad school fic The Politics of Power - also using their OC, Gracie’s, name for the 4 name drops in the whole thing)

[silco x f!oc (very limited naming)] [4.8k words] [NSFW] [professor/TA] [Dom silco] [mean silco] [very mean] [sadist silco tbh] [discipline] [use of Sir] [spanking] [forced orgasm/overstim] [a bit of degradation/humiliation] [dirty talk] [a hint of bratting] [a few tears]

[can’t believe at one point I thought this would just be one discord post of an idea, and it turned into 4K+ words 🥴 anyway, no lie this is probably also inspired by Secretary, lol -verbs]

They’re grading papers (as per usual) in the lecture hall most often used for his classes, since the office is uncharacteristically crowded at the moment. It’s after regular class hours, but she committed to doing this job right, and refuses to be seen as shirking her duties.

It does get tiresome, though. One can only read the same varying-degrees-of-correct answers so many times before the words start blurring together.

She gets up, to shake out stiff limbs. Arms lift and head tilts back as she stretches, lips twitching into an almost smug smile as her back cracks: very satisfying. The little shimmy to shake out her lower back makes her skirt swish against upper thighs, and she tugs down the hem to a more appropriate length.

She senses that magnetic pull, and the idea occurs to her— Her gaze cuts sideways, surreptitiously, wondering if her unintentional show caught the professor’s attention.

Silco, apparently, has hardly noticed. After swearing she felt eyes on her… She might be a little let down about that.

There’s a brief pause.

Did she imagine it? No. No way, she knows that feeling by now, when his attention is on her, and she felt it.

Sighing out a breath, her next stretch is more pronounced, part of her curious what it might take to pull his focus. Knee kicked up to stretch her quads, arm pulled across her chest, none of it catches his eye. Until—

The soft noise from her throat as she arches her back, hands laced behind her, seems to do it. Unfortunately, one can’t observe another’s eyes without risking being seen as well.

She tries to seem nonchalant, to match his casual disinterest, even as their eyes meet. That single fiery iris makes her burn, but she maintains her indifferent look, despite the heat creeping up her neck. Just finishes her sinuous stretch, even as his gaze scalds and chills her in equal measure.

Then his eyes drop back to his work, pen tracing along the line he’s reading, and she’s forgotten again. She shouldn’t feel as disappointed as she is.

Turning her back to him, her lips twist in a petulant pout that quickly passes. It’s boring. For a moment she thought he might say something, even if it would be just to ridicule her, but no. The man is an actually decent teacher - or, at least, he wants students to be committed to his class - so he puts in the time to teach those willing to learn. Admirable, but frustrating.

Not that she has any right to be frustrated; he’s doing his job, as she should do hers. But he still frustrates her. And she’s sick of reading the same six answers again and again.

Looking for a distraction, she wanders away from the table she was seated at, fingers tracing along the humped edges of seat after seat lined up nearly next to one another. Eyes wander. Something catches her eye, and she lets out a scoff.

She doesn’t need to look to know the noise has drawn at least a fraction of his attention. No words necessary as she feels the pressure of his unspoken query.

In answer, she approaches the object of her scorn, picking it up in one hand: a wooden ruler.

“Why is this even here?” She pinches it a couple inches from the top, swings it back and forth like a pendulum. “It’s a poli sci course, not geometry.”

His attention is on her, she can feel it, but when she looks, his gaze is back on the paper he’s grading, scanning it with his capped pen pressed to a spot on the page. “One would argue,” he murmurs, coolly, “that political science is about rulers.”

The derisive laugh she offers makes his scanning stop.

Slowly, his eyes raise to her, and somehow she feels like an idiot, even if he was the one to make a stupid pun. Now she remembers how oppressive that focus can be.

“Or about the people they rule?” she suggests. “‘Governments derive their power from the consent of the governed,’ right?” There’s a touch of pride in that little quote, one-upping his reference to academics. She won’t let him make her feel stupid.

Unfortunately— “It’s ‘Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,’” Silco corrects. But his full attention is on her now, pen lowered to the page as he watches her, teal eye narrowed and calculating.

It takes actual effort to continue swinging the ruler between her fingers as if unaffected, even as her heartbeat picks up the longer he stares. Poker face. Can’t let him know how much he gets to her.

In a slow, smooth movement, Silco sinks back into his seat, never breaking eye contact. Like a king on his throne. His pen taps thoughtfully against the armrest. Tap. Tap. Tap. His gaze breaks from her to consider the writing utensil, and her eyes follow. Thin pen in thin fingers, balanced so perfectly it looks elegant. Tap... Tap...

Tap.

The ruler clatters to the floor, though she isn’t quite sure when she let go. He’s hypnotic, magnetic, commanding her attention and leaving her utterly disoriented when the tie breaks. Breath catches in her throat as it does, eyes blink a few times as she scoops the item up again, grateful to get a moment of respite from staring at him. Eyes stay down, fingers on diagonal points of the item and spinning it carefully on the axis.

“You know,” his voice is even, with that unmistakable rich smokiness to it, “in some places, not so long ago, they had rulers in all classrooms. Corporal punishment. Often used on the back of the hands, to train left-handed students out of their sinister ways.”

Right. Or— left, rather. It’s certainly not the type of sinister she’s getting from him now. Curiosity moves her eyes from the ruler to his hands, wondering if he endured such a thing.

The pen is held in his left, but as she watches, he crosses hands in front of him, deft fingers holding the implement the same way she’s holding the ruler, mirroring her. Then it’s gracefully passed off to his right, and he props up the other elbow, left hand resting palm up, fingers elegantly curling open.

It takes a subtle clearing of his throat for her to raise her eyes from that hand.

Silco lifts a brow, chin inclining and fingers crooking once, commandingly.

For just a moment she hesitates. Something to do with consent of the ruled and the ruler. Gaze back on the hand, she swallows, then walks to his side. His eyes don’t follow her. They drop back to the paper, once it’s clear she’s complying, the pen once again dragging over the lines of text until he finds the place he left off.

Admittedly, she’s… maybe a little let down to have already lost his interest once. Which is the only reason she can offer as to why she slaps the flat of the ruler into his palm rather than placing it. It was far from forceful, but the noise still snaps in the air. It takes her breath away.

Slowly - painfully slowly - Silco’s gaze rises, shifts over, up, to look her in the eye. Heat crawls its way up her neck and burns her ears as his fingers slowly close around the instrument.

She doesn’t let go.

Neither does he. “Is there any particular reason you’ve chosen to stop doing the work you’ve been hired to do?” Ostensibly an innocent question, there’s even an almost conversational air to it, though the hint of an edge beneath makes her knees suddenly feel weak.

“Same answers over and over,” she murmurs, pulse high and tight. “Got bored.”

That eye burns up her insides. It heats her skin, singes any tip and point, flames licking at her in a way that’s as enticing as it is unsettling. “Is there any particular reason you’re not turning over your toy?” There’s a slight sardonic sneer to the word, though his demeanor stays remarkably even.

She doesn’t answer.

For a moment he’s silent, evaluating her. “…You can put this back where you found it, or you can give it to me.” He doesn’t need to say the rest, it’s implied clearly enough. This is her chance to back out, or to press on and see what happens next.

She takes a breath, holding it in her chest for a moment. Then releases her grip.

Eyes flick between his warily, but she spots the very moment they darken. Warning of something.

“Return to your work please, Gracie. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

That promise alone has her dizzy on her way back to the table opposite his. She sits, and attempts to return to grading. It feels impossible, her attention constantly drifting back up and over to him.

When it’s been over five minutes of the professor resolutely continuing his own work, she allows herself to admit she’s disappointed. Just proof of concept for him, maybe. Just a way to get her to cooperate. And he’s right: she should be doing the job she was hired for.

Gradually, she settles back into the work.

There’s only one and a half assignments left for her to get through when he stands from his table. Her eyes dart up, only for the scolding look he shoots her way to drop them back to her work again. But it’s suddenly very hard to focus on anything except his encroaching energy, the prowling aura to it as he takes slow even steps over, stopping at the front of her table.

Her heart beats so hard she can feel her skin tremoring with the force of it. The green pen used to find and mark the necessary key terms in each answer pauses, hovering above the page.

“Stand, please.”

She practically jumps to her feet, already turning to come around to his side of the table.

But Silco’s head tilts warningly, a low hum of disapproval stopping her in her tracks. “Where you are.”

Feet nearly trip over themselves in her hurry to comply, returning to stand directly in front of her chair.

“Hands out, if you will.”

Her eyes drift to the ruler pinched in his grip at his side. Shit. Is he actually going to hit her? Lips twist stubbornly, but she resolutely obeys.

“Palms down.”

She grimaces. That’s gonna hurt, across the back of the hands. But she’s not backing out of this now. Still, the look she shoots him is not pleased.

Silco’s lips twitch into a smirk. How the hell is that so— shit. Hot.

He lifts the ruler, but only sets it between his hands, fingers tapping the straight edge thoughtfully. The bastard is keeping her in suspense. Likely, just to be a bastard. Her look darkens to a glare, unamused with his theatrics. That earns her an almost inaudible huff of laughter.

Turning on one heel, he moves to the edge of the table. Before she can turn, too, he interrupts her thought process. “Stay,” he orders, calmly, and she thinks that annoyance may be threatening to overcome her intoxication in his presence.

The smooth movement is decisive and purposeful, but his slow languorous stride reminds her of a predator on the hunt. Watching her hands, she keeps him in the corner of her vision until he disappears into her blind spot, standing somewhere back and to her right.

For a long moment, nothing.

Then her chair is dragged out from behind her, the noise sounding too loud in the silent lecture hall.

Nerves steadily grow again, gradually realizing it would be incredibly tiring to keep her hands out like this. Luckily, or perhaps not so luckily, she won’t have to for much longer.

“…Elbows on the desk.”

Sharp eyes dart sideways as her head turns, even if her arms stay fixed where she was ordered.

He merely raises brows expectantly. “Gracie. Elbows on the desk.”

The way he says her name makes her stomach flip. Facing front again, she takes a breath. Then bends her knees and elbows and props herself on the table before her.

“Knees straight.” As if to emphasize his point, the ruler grazes her shin before pressing beneath her knee until her legs are acceptably locked.

Her face burns. Oh. So this is the plan. Thighs press together beneath her skirt, muscles flexing to relieve the need growing in her gut. A series of images flash through her mind, but a healthy dose of reality warns her they may not come true. His demeanor leans more sadist than pervert.

Almost like he can hear that thought and wants to contradict it - or maybe just mock it - the tip of the ruler traces to the back of one knee, slipping to the inner curve.

“Legs apart.”

Mouth suddenly dry, she slides her tongue along the inside of lips pressed thin. The narrow wood slides up her thigh and toes curl as she widens her stance. She freezes, body stiff and blood rushing in her ears as the ruler passes the hem of her skirt. For a second her heart stops, anticipating the path of the tool— but then the ruler glides right back down again, leaving her all too aware of the embarrassing throb between her legs.

“Is this what you wanted?” Silco asks smoothly, the question too innocent as he repeats the same move against the other thigh— sliding around, up, and down again without straying too near the cloth that she suspects may be dampening. “When you were making those little moans earlier?”

Moan—? Oh god. Her cheeks flush deep enough to give off heat. When she’d been stretching, the little noise of exertion that had slipped from her lips.

“Well?”

Oh he— he wants her to answer? Like this?!

No, apparently not like this— or not just like this, as he adds, the ruler coming up again. “‘Yes Sir’ or ‘no Sir,’ please.” The end of it drifts even higher this time, barely two inches from its intended (god, she hopes it’s the intended) target.

She can’t think like this.

Like he can read her mind, the ruler leaves her skin.

But she can tell it’s still close, can tell her skirt is still being lifted just a bit by the end of the tool. “I…” Eyes shut tight, trying to get her brain to work properly. “I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “I didn’t- nh!” The flat of the ruler presses between her legs and she jolts at the contact, the unexpected squeak humiliating.

“Rules, if you please.”

Her legs are shaking, resisting the mortifying urge to seek out friction, to attempt to grind against the object that teasingly rubs back and forth against her, even as she can already feel her body making that slide particularly easy.

“—On second thought: I spent 5 damned years on a PhD, I think someone ought to call me Doctor, don’t you?” She can hear the wicked humor in Silco’s words, wryly casual even as the wood turns to press the edge between her folds, rocking forward and up - nudging at her clit - before retreating again.

“I— I don’t know, Doctor,” she chokes out.

There’s an audible wince, followed by a dark breath of laughter. “Scratch that: Sir is fine.”

The ruler pulls away, and she groans: half want, half shame. Only for it to hook beneath the skirt as a whole to push the back up, until her panties are on full display. She can’t decide if she wants to beg or just drop dead from embarrassment. At least the underwear is cute.

“Now.” The word is punctuated with a snap of wood against skin, the flat of the ruler smacking the top of one thigh, and she yelps— from surprise far more than pain, though it does sting. “The truth, Gracie.”

She’s not entirely sure when she got there, but she’s practically collapsed her face into the table, forehead hovering above the papers she was supposed to grade. Still unable to speak.

“Is this” —the wood is back, pressing harder against her, a firm rocking motion— “what you wanted?”

Thighs tense, toes curl, and she presses her flaming face to the table. Her groan turns into a miserable admission: “Yes Sir.” It is now, it probably was then, even if she didn’t realize it. And now she just needs more.

The professor’s satisfied hum sends shivers down her spine. “Good girl.”

She can feel the heat of him drawing closer, and something in her gut flutters, begging for contact. Apparently, her truth has earned her a reward, and she whines as fingers trace up the slapped thigh, a large hand kneading the heated skin.

“—Unfortunately, teases have a lesson to learn.”

The hand is gone, and a second later another crack sounds as the ruler comes down across the other thigh. She expects the same pain, but this one hits just a bit higher - right at the curve of her ass - and the sensation shoots straight through the flesh and right to her clit, mouth falling open in a confused little exclamation.

“Corporal punishment not quite as bad as you thought, hm?”

Silco’s taunt comes as the flat rubs against her skin, then it draws back and she tenses in anticipation. The noise of the strike is partially muffled by the edge of her panties - the slap coming right across her ass - but the vibrations still hit just right, another needy whine pulling from her throat.

“Use your words, darling.” The pet name feels like a mockery. “Better than you anticipated?”

Another smack and her eyelids flutter, words breathless. “Hnnyes Sir.”

The low hum rumbles in his throat, and she can’t help but squirm in response, shifting foot to foot.

“Teases aren’t meant to enjoy their punishments, Gracie,” he purrs. His offhand once again massages the blushing flesh for a moment before pulling away again. “They’re meant to take it” —smack— “until they’ve learned not to go teasing” —smack— “unless they intend to follow” —smack— “through on it.” —smack.

The final impact draws a keening sound from her, desperation plain as both sets of reddened cheeks burn.

His hand cups between her thighs, and glazed eyes raise as her head tilts back, hips shifting as she tries to push herself against him. “Please.” It’s soft, a quiet whine.

Fingers press on the edges of her panties, refusing to touch her properly no matter how much she whimpers. She can hear the mocking pout in his falsely sympathetic noise. “Please what? Do you want me to stop? To end this and walk away?”

“No,” she answers immediately. “Please don’t stop. Please-”

The next two strikes are bare-handed, palm quick to soothe once they’ve landed, even if his words are harsh. “Rules.” Fingers once again stroke the edges of fabric, even as she can feel how slick she is any time he offers the tiniest bit of pressure.

“Sir—” she corrects, “please Sir, I need-” She can’t quite get herself to say it, a frustrated whine caught in her chest as she closes hands into fists and thuds her forehead down on the assignments.

“You’d think with a degree in journalism you’d be better at using your words.”

She can hear the cocky smirk in his voice, but— well, he’s right. She should be. But no words come. All she can do is try to back up into him, to close that distance, desperate for contact.

It earns her a grip in her hair that manages to pull her head back while still pushing her away from him, the ruler falling to the ground as Silco delivers a harsh slap high on each thigh, a spot that makes her clench deliciously. “What did I say?”

“How am I supposed to remember, I just want—nnf!” The tightening in her hair silences her argument, and the next smack wraps around the curve of her ass to brush the wet fabric that makes a mockery of modesty.

“‘Elbows on the desk. Knees straight. Legs apart.’” He repeats, sounding every inch the disciplinarian he’s cast himself as.

Eyes close, hiding the way they roll back with pleasure as - unable to resist - she tugs against his hand in her hair, forcing his grip to firm up again. The rest she obeys, returning to the same position, even if her legs are slightly farther apart than before.

He notices immediately. “Greedy little whore…” As degrading as the words are, his tone sounds amused. Maybe even impressed.

“Please, Sir.” She groans, breath heavy.

“‘Please Sir’ what?”

When she still can’t answer, he seems to either take pity or give up on her. The hand not in her hair cups between her legs again, once more rubbing around where she wants his touch, but never even teasing her entrance, let alone going beneath fabric. Sliding back, one long finger finally brushes over the exact spot she wants him plunging inside, only to trace past and up the curve of her ass, fingers plucking lightly at the band of her underwear.

“‘Please Sir, I want you to fuck me?’” He suggests, the word a hissed f and cracking k in the air. It sounds extra rude from him, somehow. “‘Please Sir, I need your cock inside me?’” Two fingers hook in the elastic and drag her panties down torturously slow, a pathetic whine shivering out of her as goosebumps raise on her flesh, cool air combatting wet heat.

Just the two fingers are all the contact made as they brush the curve of her ass, over her hip… She can feel him step just a little closer again, letting his reach dip down the front. It’s so brief, two fingers sliding through her folds, delicately grazing her clit— “‘Please Sir I-’” His words falter for a moment when he reaches her entrance, and the tip of one finger teases her before his hand retreats the way it came. “‘—I’m absolutely dripping at the thought of you taking me right here-’ hmm-” Silco’s words pause long enough for her to hear the wet hum as he licks his fingers clean. “‘-right here in the lecture hall-’”

A carnal groan pulls from her throat as his legs hit the back of hers when he leans over her to brush his touch against her lips. He doesn’t even need to command it. Lips open readily, tonguing her own wetness from fine fingers, hot breath half-panted when his grip in her hair tightens again, his words practically a hiss: “‘-like a good little slut.’”

She only proves him right. Eyes hooded as she sucks his fingers eagerly, squirming even when he refuses to be close enough for her to grind against. Her mind is fogged with sex, skin still heated from every impact against sensitive flesh.

“Cockdrunk on air,” he observes almost haughtily, the effect lessened by the short growled hum as he pumps his fingers lewdly between her lips.

Far too aroused for her own well-being, she moans around his hand, mouth opening as she tries to speak around his fingers. “Eeeyeth thuh.”

“Mm,” seems affirmative. “Now don’t make a mess,” he warns. Then he’s using his grip to tilt her face back, pull her head toward him, body arching dramatically, so when he pulls fingers from her mouth she doesn’t risk drooling on the homework assignments she should’ve graded.

She quickly licks her lips, as Silco adjusts his stance, letting her return to her elbows before his hand is cupping her roughly, spit-slicked fingers meeting wet folds and plunging in easily.

Her mouth falls open with a short noise of exertion almost identical to the one that started all this mess. The hand finally offers her pressure and resistance, and she takes full advantage, grinding herself against his palm. It’s like she melts down onto the table, hips rocking back against his hand as a noise somewhere between moan and whine draws out of her.

Deft fingers twist, hand flipping over, and they press in and forward, catching that sweet spot that makes her legs shake. His thumb reaches to circle her clit, and she bites her hand to muffle a sound of sheer pleasure.

When Silco lets go of his grip on her hair, she whines without considering the implications. She’s not considering anything at the moment, aside from chasing her own pleasure with his fingers in her cunt and his words on her skin. Cockdrunk is right; she can hardly think beyond the hunger that drives her need for more.

Then his hand is gone. She’s just beginning to register the loss of him when the stinging snap of wood against skin jerks her forward with a yelp, half the papers fluttering to the floor as her hands push forward to grip the far edge of the table.

“This is a punishment. Remember?”

No. She can’t remember a thing, besides how badly she wants him inside of her. “Please-”

Another crack of the ruler across her ass. She squirms, pussy throbbing, begging to be soothed by pleasure. Blood rushing to redden skin comes along with another flood of desperate wetness adding to the slick already glistening on her inner thighs.

A hand grips her hip, holding her still, and he must be able to feel how she shivers, skin a vibrating hum under his touch. “Think you’ve learned your lesson?” Part of her registers the sound of the ruler being set down again, and her heart leaps at the prospect of him using that now-empty hand, to free himself from stylish trousers, to bury his cock hilt-deep in—

Two perfectly placed spanks bring tears to her eyes: frustration, not pain. Somehow he hits just right to a point where the echoing reverberation seems to teasingly buzz at all the good sensitive spots, inside and out. “Yes!” she insists, begging, “Please-”

Four more, before his hand rubs at burning skin, soothing the sting, thumb rubbing the inner curve of her thigh, brushing lightly against wet lips.

“Yes, Sir!” Fuck, please, god. “I won’t do it again,” she swears, a distressed hum on the roof of her mouth as she writhes in his hold, craving the right touch— his touch— “I won’t be a— a tease—”

The hand holding her still lets go, gripping in her hair again, and her mind goes blank as he leans over her, thigh pressed to the back of hers so he can be close enough to hiss in her ear. “Not for anyone else,” he demands.

“No one else,” she agrees immediately, whining as the hand on her ass slides between her legs again, making eyelids flag low, breath thick and desirous.

“Only me.”

“Only you,” she breathes, quickly followed by a needy, “Please, Sir.”

One growled “good girl,” and then he’s pulling back and his fingers are inside her again, demandingly rough, playing her like an instrument as she groans a heady pleasure.

In no time at all, she’s brought to the edge and wrestled over it by one dexterous hand. The grip on her hair stops her from hiding her face against the table, jaw slack and breath heavy, eyes unfocused as her orgasm winds inside of her, snapping and rushing as she tightens around him, breath halted and body stiff apart from the way her muscles grip his punishing fingers.

She’s just starting to breathe again when he does something with his hand, triggering another shock that makes her keen, knees pressing inward like it can stop the purposeful movements that utterly break her again. In another moment her legs give out, but she’s already mostly collapsed on the table.

By the time Silco has forced a third wave of ecstasy to hit her like a brick wall in quick succession, she’s sobbing, tears staining the paper beneath her cheek. Absolutely criminal what this man’s hands can do to her, how well they can undo her.

He lets go, and all she can do is breathe— pant, really, a thin sheen of sweat sticking her blouse to her back, pleasure running down her thighs. She’s hazy, dumb, boneless on the table.

Something disgustingly pleased by the taboo of it thrills, as the professor tugs her panties back up into place, smoothing her skirt down once more.

“Good meeting.” A wicked amusement fills those two words, a dry humor that burns like the devil himself.

He steps away. She breathes.

And a moment later she hears the door to the lecture hall open and close.

Left ruined on the table, surrounded by scattered papers no longer sorted into their proper sections, one of whose ink is smudged by tears.

Several minutes must pass before she feels capable of standing.

On shaky legs, half in shock, she gathers the papers. Sorts them, dumbly, and stacks them with his finished work. Keeps the ruined one on top, well aware she’ll need to print out a fresh copy to grade.

Everything is done automatically, like she’s not even sure the last, what, half an hour? is real.

At long last, she makes her way out of the lecture hall.

Surprise— and more importantly relief— hits her as she finds Professor Silco leaned up against the opposite wall in the corridor.

“Took you long enough.”

—

[…I swear this was originally gonna be like a hundred word max of [brief action][action] dialogue [action] and then this happened instead lmao. 😅

Hope you enjoyed?? I guess??

If you want more smut, Show a Little Skin is my other (silco x reader) smutty piece I have, though A Helping Hand (silco x reader) and her side dishes have some dirty content as well. And if you haven’t read @insult-2-injury ‘s fic (silco x reader), go do it, it’s linked up top.

Reblogs help my work reach new readers, and tags and comments make my day brighter 👉👈 ❤️ -verbs]

(Also on ao3)

#silco #silco arcane #silco x oc #silco x f!oc #silco x reader #not really but the original fic is #wip:learning the rules #x-amount-writes #smut #professor!silco

235 notes · View notes

chosonore · 4 years ago

Text

cynosure

cynosure [noun. one that serves to direct or guide; a center of attraction or attention]

pairing: sukuna/f!reader

summary: in which sukuna re-discovers being human one aspect at a time, through many lifetimes, at the price of losing you over and over.

wordcount: 8.7k

content/warnings: reincarnation au, slow burn but also not really because there's only hints of romance? language, it's not canon at all, just pretend sukuna was never sealed away, lowercase is intended

a/n: this is more self-indulgent tbh sukuna is probably uncharacteristically soft? sometimes i'm reminded of the fact that he used to be human and while we don't exactly know how he became a curse just yet, i kinda felt sad about it lol i'm too sympathetic with everything, it's gonna kill me one day fhuierhfa a lot of these moments are based on my own experiences, where i had to remind myself that even the small things in life are really good and important, especially during the pandemic. that being said, i hope you enjoy and stay safe everyone :) (and please don’t judge me too hard on this lol i haven’t written in like what. six years?)

001.

“oh,” you stared at the tall, pink-haired man in front of you. “i didn’t think anyone would be here around this time…” he stared back at you, not replying nor making any move to scoot over so that you could sit on your bench. it was only then that you noticed the black markings framing his face and adorning his wrists. you were a little dumbfounded - your mother had always said that you had a poor survival instinct. though you supposed that his pink hair eased your nerves a little; surely someone with pink hair couldn’t be as evil. but you couldn’t recall ever seeing someone like this around the proximity of your village. maybe he was a vagrant.

“i don’t mean to be rude but… that’s my bench and i would appreciate if you could maybe… scooch over?” you asked gingerly, not wanting to upset the stranger. you approached him slowly, grasping your basket tightly. if he got a little rowdy, maybe you could just wack him with the basket, right? although it probably won’t hurt but it surely would stun him long enough for you to run.

“i don’t see why i should move just because it’s your bench,” the stranger answered gruffly, crossing his arms. were you naive or just stupid? “do you not know who you’re talking to, woman?”

you cocked your head to the side, not sure what he meant. maybe he was one of those famous poets or musicians that your parents liked to talk about. you weren’t entirely sure. even though he sounded annoyed, the look in his eyes didn’t quite match the hostility - he looked rather bored, unamused even, but not hostile. maybe you could humour him a little. “am- am i supposed to know you? i’ve never been outside of the village so i don’t know much. only what the merchants tell me. i apologize if i’ve offended you,” you explained hastily, then pointing at your basket. “i just came here to enjoy the sunrise. um, today is my birthday, so i treated myself to some dessert!”

“if- if you scooch over a litte, i could share some with you…” you tried to bargain with him. now you were truly starting to sound desperate but this was your favourite spot and it was the first time in a while that you had a free day to relax. out of all days, just why did he have to be here now? you’d be damned if you let your day get ruined by this unfriendly stranger.

“are you trying to bribe me?” the stranger narrowed his eyes at you and you thought this was it. he was going to kill you and bury your body in the forest and your parents would come look for you, only to find your empty basket and then start a huge search party to find you and- the pink haired man moved to the side, refusing to look you in the eyes. “sit.”

you let out a squeak in glee, quickly taking a seat beside him. he watched in silence as you unwrap your desserts, glancing at the objects in question. even though you’d offered to share with him, he didn’t actually expect you to give him some of your food. sukuna was surprised when you handed him a… round squishy thing?

“what is that? how is that going to satiate me?” he asked, almost offended, which made you giggle. you didn’t reply, instead thrusting the mochi towards him until he begrudgingly took it, closely inspecting it in suspicion.

“that’s a daifuku mochi. it’s made out of rice flour and filled with red bean paste. but come to think of it… do you even like sweets? i’m sorry if you don’t particularly enjoy it,” you explained and grabbed one as well. you were about to bite into your mochi when you saw the stranger opening his mouth, ready to devour the entire mochi in one go. in horror, you quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him, only to have him suddenly pin you down and tower over you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” you hastily said, now suddenly aware of the dark, threatening aura that he was emitting. maybe he was a killer after all. “i just didn’t want you to eat it in one go! they’re kind of difficult to eat in one go… plus you’re supposed to savour and enjoy it, take your time eating it!”

sukuna stared at the girl in disbelief, you’d grabbed him out of nowhere just to stop him from eating too fast? not only were you not aware of who he was, you apparently did not know how to be cautious around strangers. it irked him that you were acting like he was a harmless human being. so much so that he briefly contemplated killing you. “who are you to tell me how to eat?” he growled at you, not softening his grip. he saw the panic and fear in your eyes but for some reason, he couldn’t quite put a finger on it, it didn’t fill him with joy as it usually did.

“i’m just telling you how we usually eat mochi!” you harrumphed, now annoyed that he was acting like you just committed murder. “you didn’t know what these were, so i was just trying to explain! food is supposed to be enjoyed, not ravished all at once. you have to appreciate your food because there might be days where you won’t have any. and besides, enjoying and properly tasting your meal is the least you can do to show gratitude to the person who cooked it for you.” sukuna let up and sat back on his previous spot, seemingly accepting your answer. you sat up, adjusting your yukata and pouted at him. what a rude stranger! you at least expected an apology from him but seeing that he was already taking a bite from his mochi, you guessed you should just let it go. it wasn’t worth getting angry over anyways, not on this day.

“why are you looking at me like that, little girl?” sukuna questioned, taking another bite from his mochi. he did actually enjoy it and it took every bone in his body not to hastily eat more and to savour it like you’d told him to. maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, it made him think about his meals a little more. not eating for the sake of eating, but for enjoyment, he mused. sort of like living for enjoyment, not for the sake of living.

“you never told me your name,” the girl replied innocently. sukuna sighed. so you really weren’t aware of who he was. “my name is y/n! now it’s only fair if you tell me, especially because i shared my food with you. please?”

before sukuna could reply, he sensed someone quickly approaching. they were hiding somewhere in the forest; it likely was a jujutsu sorcerer, trying to exorcise him. he could deal with them later, but not here, not with you around. the girl looked at him in disappointment when he abruptly stood up, turning towards the forest behind them. unfortunately, he had the inkling that you wouldn’t let it go until he answered: “my name is sukuna, king of curses.” your eyes widened in recognition but you didn’t immediately react or scramble away from him, most likely frozen in fear.

“now go. someone is coming and you do not want to be in the crossfire.”

002.

as a seamstress, you’ve encountered all kinds of customers. ranging from rude and bratty to eternally grateful, you’ve seen it all. your supervisor had always told you to remain calm and polite, to just adhere to their wishes to not cause any ruckus. after all, people of status often assumed that they were untouchable and could treat others poorly. it wasn’t worth the hassle to start a fight with them, you could lose your job after all. there was moments you’d have to stand up for yourself but this wasn’t it. fortunately, your employer paid you well, enough for you to provide for your family. the customers were high-profile after all.

you looked at the clock on the wall, your next customer was supposed to come soon. it was a nobleman that apparently travelled here from far away, having heard that the store offered beautiful, one of a kind fabrics. you just hope that he wasn’t rude and that you could leave in time. you’d been working overtime for weeks now, taking every appointment and customer that you could get. your mother’s birthday was approaching and you’d been saving up to buy some of the soft and silky fabrics to sew her a new yukata. your mother had always sacrificed her own comfort to buy the best items she could afford for your siblings and you and now that you were older, you could finally treat her to something nice as well. your employer was even willing to give you a small discount and you gratefully took up on her offer.

the chime of the doorbell made you look up, the good feeling in your stomach slowly fading when you saw who entered. you were familiar with the customer after all; he was well known in the area, being a rather volatile and sometimes scary aristocrat who had the reputation to be particularly difficult and having outrageous demands. you hastily stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of your clothing and walking over to greet him. you bowed politely, taking the outerwear that he took off and placing it on a nearby armchair. “sir, i’ll bring you a few samples shortly. do you have any colour or pattern preferences?” you asked him, placing a pot of tea and a cup on the small side table for him to enjoy. you made note of his wishes and disappeared in the storage room to pick up the samples. the customer had made himself at home, eyeing you scrutinizingly. he made you queasy, looking so incredibly unfriendly and you could tell that you were not going home early tonight.

you showed each of the fabrics to him, explaining what materials they were made of and what occasions they were good for but with each explanation, he just looks more and more uninterested. not to mention the snarky remarks he made, seemingly not happy of the choices you presented him. you were running out of options and you didn’t know what else to do to please him when suddenly you heard someone enter the shop. both the customer and you looked over confused - you weren’t expecting any more customers today, it was already late after all. a tall, pink-haired man entered the shop, scowling at your customer. you jumped slightly; he looked scary and you were terrified, not sure what to do in this situation. not only were the black markings on his face and body terrifying, there was also a threatening aura surrounding him, dark and slowly spreading out, all your instincts were screaming at you to run. should you politely ask him to leave? he looked like he wouldn’t take it too well. before you could ask him whether he was looking for something, the stranger spoke up: “you know who i am, leave.”

your eyes widened, slowly inching back towards the back of the store. you were not aware of who this man was but by the looks of your pale-faced customer, he surely did. “this is outrageous!” he exclaimed indignantly, jumping out of his seat. “you can’t just burst in here and demand that i leave! i have an appointment! are you aware of how long the waiting list is? this is the finest shop in the entire prefecture and i would rather die than to give up my spot for a scoundrel like you.” the stranger raised his eyebrows at the shorter man, clicking his tongue in annoyance. you slowly reached out to grab your pair of scissors. they probably weren’t of much use but it made you feel more safe, knowing you could at least somehow defend yourself.

“oh? you would rather die? i’m sure that can be arranged,” the stranger threatened and it was with horror that you watched his fingernails, sharp and pointy, grow in size. he wasn’t human, you’d just encountered a monster. he would kill you and it wouldn’t take him much effort to do so, you were sure he could just stab you with those fingernails. your customer squeaked and left the store in panic, slamming the door in the process, while you quickly hid behind the counter. you hoped he would leave you alone, you didn’t want to get involved. this wasn’t your problem, you were innocent and it was an unfortunate coincidence for you to be here.

“stop hiding,” the stranger commanded, slowly approaching the counter. you peeked from below the counter, holding your breath. what else could he possibly want from you? demons surely didn’t need money. oh god, was he going to kidnap you?

he swiftly rounded the corner and knelt down to take a closer look at you - you couldn’t react fast enough, he’d already grabbed your chin and made you look at him, turning your head from side to side as he examined you. his fingernails were slightly digging into your skin, making your face scrunch up in discomfort. “so it is you,” he exclaimed in a low voice, then abruptly standing back up. you were confused - what did he mean by that? at least he didn’t kill you, at least not yet. but what else could he possibly want from you? “i need a new kimono. that scumbag just left anyways, make one for me instead.”

a kimono? a simple kimono? you couldn’t believe what you just heard. this demon just came in here, threw a fit but all he wanted was a simple kimono? you couldn’t help but scoff at the situation though it probably was difficult to enter a store without people fleeing or refusing to serve him. while he did look human, the markings on his face made it difficult not to feel threatened. but why did he know you? you had never seen this man in your life before. not in passing, not on drawings, nowhere. no matter how hard you wracked your brain, you just couldn’t recall. “d- do you have any- any colour preference?” you questioned him, watching how he took a seat and grabbed himself the cup of tea.

“white,” he answered curtly, taking a sip from the tea. “i’ll leave everything else up to you.”

you felt uncomfortable but there was nothing else you could do than follow his orders. you grabbed a few plain white fabric samples and slowly inched over to him, holding them out with your trembling hands. “what?” he deadpanned. you huffed in frustration.

“sir, you should… you should choose the fabric. it’s your kimono after all, you might not like the feeling of the fabric or it might not be a good fit for your everyday life,” you explained.

“i don’t care, just choose whatever. i’m above the comfort you stupid mortals choose.”

“that’s stupid,” the words left your mouth quicker than you could stop yourself and you slapped your hands over your mouth. the stranger looked at you as equally shocked. “i mean- i mean there’s nothing wrong with indulging in comfortable clothes!” you explained quickly, pressing the samples into his hands. “see you wouldn’t like scratchy clothes, right? or fabric that quickly makes you sweat or feel too warm! i always talk to my customers about what kinds of fabrics they would prefer… i believe life is too short to wear ill-fitting clothes or ones that don’t feel comfortable! good clothing should make you feel like… like a warm hug.”

the stranger didn’t look like he understood what you meant, making you scoff again. some people really didn’t care about what they wore and how they looked like and it just bothered you. good quality fabrics and well tailored clothing could make you feel confident and safe, even in the worst situations. how could you possibly relax if your clothing was maybe scratchy or ill-fitting? “i’ll prove it to you!” you exclaimed and left the room to gather your supplies, then coming back to instruct him where and how to stand so you could take his measurements. now that he was towering over you, you were suddenly very aware of how tall and broad he was. you felt like a dwarf next to him. up close, you noticed more details about him. he was attractive, you couldn’t deny that - the long wispy eyelashes, the watchful ruby eyes and his soft-looking pink hair. if he picked up on your staring, he didn’t comment on it.

once you were done taking notes and choosing fabrics, you gave him a slip of paper, noting down time and date for him to come back to pick the kimono up. “as for payment-” you started but the stranger dropped a huge bag of coins on the counter. you gasped, pushing the bag back into his arms. “sir, that’s too much! i’ll calculate the exact price for you but-”

“take it,” he insisted and pushed it back towards you. “i have enough. you need the money right? see it as a generous tip.” your face flushed, you didn’t even know what to say and instead only profusely thanked him. it was so much money, the tip was enough to cover your family’s expenses for a year.

when sukuna picked up his kimono weeks later, he still didn’t understand what a hassle you made about the choice of fabrics and why you were so diligent in taking the measurements. he was fine with everything as long as he had something to wear in the first place. he didn’t care, he wasn’t a measly human that whined about the mildest inconvenience. in the private of his abode, he tried the kimono on, abruptly halting his movements as soon as the fabric touched his skin. so the girl was right, the fabric did feel incredibly good on his skin. it was very smooth and silky, a little cool on his skin. very lightweight but not flimsy. the kimono wasn’t too short and fit his tall statue well, you really did a good job he supposed. he glanced at himself in the mirror. it did look good on him, even the matching colours and patterns were chosen well. you really were a good seamstress, no wonder everyone was flocking to the store.

now that sukuna wore the kimono, he suddenly didn’t want to take it off. it was comfortable and soft, reminding him of you.

003.

your favourite spot was one below a tree, on top of a hill where you could see everything. the small city below, the horizon, the stars in the sky. you often came here when you felt like your life came crashing down your shoulders. it didn’t feel like your own anymore, not with your future already laid out for you without you being able to control it. complaining had always felt redundant and ungrateful to you - you had everything you needed, a loving family, food on the table and your family was wealthy enough to not have to worry about money. but in return, they expected everything from you, their eldest daughter. sometimes, the pressure was too much for you but they expected you to do as they say. everything was well until they announced that you were to get married and they’d found a suitor for you. you couldn’t even protest, the decision had already been made behind your back and you couldn’t refuse. you sniffled quietly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. you didn’t know this man; he might be a complete asshole and not treat you well at all.

the wind was biting at your skin, cold and unrelenting, and yet you felt safe here, away from all your worries. the starry sky made you feel like your worries were miniscule, reminding you that there was so much more out there for you to discover. you’d always liked the sight of stars, they always made you happy. on lucky days, you’d even get to see a few shooting stars. you’d close your eyes and clasp your hands, hopeful that whatever wish you made would come true. the crunch of leaves and twigs made you look up in alarm, scared that your parents had found out you left the estate and now found your secret hiding spot. you couldn’t quite make out the figure in the darkness, only being able to tell that a tall person was approaching you.

you were wary, inching towards the tree behind you to hide but froze when a voice rang out: “i know you’re there. i was looking for you all over the city, little one.” a man clad in a kimono was coming closer, stopping right in front of you and looking at you in disdain. your eyes lit up as you recognized him; you’d met sukuna a couple of times in the city before, mostly when you went to pick up some books to read. he’d been there one time when you were choosing your books and scoffed at your choice. you’d ask him about it, wondering why he thought that your choice was a bad one. he went on and on about how historically inaccurate the book was and that the information about curses was wrong and how an author like that should be ashamed to even publish it. you appreciated the dialogue, you liked having someone to discuss with you. your parents didn’t like that you read fantasy books and books that talked about supernatural events and beings, dubbing them as nonsense and that you should focus on your studies instead.

after your third meeting, sukuna had finally opened up and told you his name. your meetings became more frequent then but you’d never met anywhere other than the bookstore. you were surprised that he even found you here; you decided not to question him though, sukuna always seemed to know where you were, always sensing where you were headed. truthfully, you looked forward to spending time with him. he was attentive and always listened to you, barely ever talking. oddly enough, it made you feel like finally, someone was paying attention to your thoughts and needs. lately, a heavy feeling in your chest was always accompanying you when you met up with him. it was a dull ache, some kind of yearning that you couldn’t quite put a finger on. it didn’t help that you felt like you’d met him before, but you really couldn’t recall where you had met him before. “what are you doing here?” you questioned him, scooting to the side to offer him some space on the picnic blanket.

unceremoniously, he sat down and glanced over to you. he didn’t reply, simply shrugging. “why didn’t you bring a coat?” you asked another question instead, frowning at his choice of clothing. aside from his kimono, he wasn’t wearing anything else. “you’ll catch a cold!” you scolded him, swatting his arm before tugging on his sleeve and signalling him to move closer to you so you could wrap the blanket around his shoulders. you struggled a little to reach him, almost stumbling - sukuna’s arm immediately shot out to hold you so you wouldn’t fall. your cheeks flushed red and you were thankful that it was dark. you cleared your throat and sat back down, snuggling into the blanket and his side.

“by the way, i read that book you disliked the other day,” you told him, rambling about the contents of the book and what you thought of it, all while sukuna simply listened to you. he only spoke up when he challenged your way of thinking or to agree, otherwise staying silent and just watching you.

suddenly you grasped his hand in excitement, pointing at the sky. “oh, oh! look!!” sukuna’s gaze followed the direction you pointed to, spotting some shooting stars flitting across the sky. “you have to wish for something!” you squeezed his hand and nudged him, then squeezing your eyes shut to prepare yourself to wish.

“what would i even wish for?” sukuna frowned and pinched your cheek. “what do you wish for?”

“you’re not supposed to share wishes! if you do, they won’t come true,” you argued back and stuck your tongue out at him. sometimes, he really was too skeptical, never indulging in harmless fun. it might be childish to believe in these things but sometimes that little spark of hope was all you need to wait for better things. you sighed when the shooting stars disappeared and let go of his hand, screaming internally. did you really grab his hand like that? you sure hoped you didn’t unsettle him.

“i don’t think i told you, but my parents have found a suitor for me,” you confided in him quietly, staring at the grass near your feet. “i’m supposed to marry him next year but… i don’t want to, i don’t know this person and i just want to live my life with no one controlling it.”

“i see. there’s still time to get to know him, isn’t there?” you knew sukuna was trying to console you but it wasn’t exactly working. your words frustrated you a little; subconsciously, you’d hoped that he shared the same opinion and maybe, just maybe, help you do something reckless.

“i don’t want to get to know him,” you huffed and crossed your arms (sukuna thought you looked like a petulant child). “i… i already like someone.”

“you do?” sukuna looked at you surprised and that was the first time that he’d shown any other emotion than indifference. you nodded shyly, hoping that maybe he’d get the hint. you weren’t confident just yet to confess to him but maybe he’d get it from your description alone?

“i recently met him and i really like that he makes me feel like, you know, important and always pays attention to me. he doesn’t talk a lot but i think that that’s okay, we still have a silent mutual understanding, i guess. and i also think he looks really handsome! although i-”

sukuna had enough of your rambling, he felt annoyed that you were telling him about your stupid crush. whatever boy you had a crush on, they would never amount to the likes of him. why would you look at someone else when he was right there? right here, with you. sukuna reached over and grabbed your cheeks to make you look at him before pressing his lips on yours. you froze for a short moment before returning the kiss, holding onto his kimono when he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. why would you pay attention to someone else when he could be with you? for the first time in his existence as a curse, he briefly felt human again. maybe shooting stars were the key to wishes coming true after all; in this moment he wouldn’t mind being human again, being alone with her with only the stars as your witnesses.

004.

gradually you were really starting to dislike your night shifts. usually, you’d ask to cover them because it was quiet, there were no nosy customers and the only people that ever came in so late were sleep deprived students that pulled all nighters to write papers or study. well it used to be that way until a group of, presumably, freshmen started coming more and more frequently - they wouldn’t have been so annoying if it wasn’t for them talking and laughing obnoxiously loud. they would stay until late in the night and kept ordering drinks. the audacity to have oddly specific orders, to watch you like a hawk while you were preparing their drinks, it made your blood boil. to top it all off, one of the guys kept flirting with you, even when you’d already made it obvious that you were not interested at all. no matter how uninterested and abrasive you acted, the guy would not leave you alone and his friends would try to act as wingmen. clueless and horrible wingmen.

you were glad that you were never alone during your night shifts, depending on the weekday you’d work in a team of two or threes. whenever they could, they’d cover for you and you were thankful but also felt bad, which usually resulted in you taking over anyways. you placed the basket on the counter, grabbing a towel to dry the cups you’d just washed. the chime of the doorbell made you look up, your heartbeat speeding up at the sight of sukuna coming in. like the group of freshmen, sukuna had recently started to visit the café more and more. he usually only came late at night and he probably was your favourite regular. scratch that, he was your favourite, no one was as calm as him and he never caused trouble. yeah, maybe those night shifts weren’t all that bad, you thought to yourself. you looked forward to him visiting every time you had a night shift.

“hi sukuna,” you greeted him softly and gave him a smile, placing the cup on a shelf. “the usual?” he took a seat near the bar, placing his wallet on the counter and taking off his coat. sukuna was peculiar, not particularly in a bad way. you always thought that he was a little mysterious. he always wore the same kimono - who wears kimonos everyday in this day and age anyways - the same white kimono but maybe he just owned mulitple of them. you could never tell what he was thinking and he had never shown any emotions other than brief moments of bliss when he was having his usual order. his order had always and would probably always be a simple black coffee and some daifuku mochi. it was a weird combo, you mused, but somehow fit him. it was a sharp contrast, just like his tattoos and the soft pink hair. you finished up the order, pushing the cup of coffee and the plated mochi towards him - you’d sneaked another one in just for him, knowing how much he seemed to like them. sukuna looked up at you, ready to protest but you just brushed it off, telling him that it was okay.

out of the corner of your eye you saw your not so secret admirer approaching with an empty cup and you instantly knew you were bound to be annoyed again. you sighed, returning to the cash register to take his order. “so, when am i finally going to get to take you out?” the guy asked, leaning on the counter to get closer to you. you gritted your teeth, ignoring his question and instead took the empty cup, placing it in the kitchen sink behind you.

“oh come on, don’t ignore me, baby,” he whined, not letting up until you answered. you were annoyed, so so annoyed. your co-workers were currently organizing the inventory so you were all by yourself - usually that would be fine but you’d had enough. this week has already been awful and you just wanted to be left alone. you glanced around, spotting sukuna on the side. suddenly a lightbulb went on in your head and you faced your admirer confidently.

“i’m sorry but please stop flirting with me and trying to ask me out,” you started and pointed to sukuna who was innocently taking a bite from his mochi. “i already have a boyfriend and i don’t think he appreciates you cornering me like this. you being this persistent is really annoying, girls don’t like that.”

upon hearing his name, sukuna looked up and as if on cue, he glared at your admirer. “yeah, i suggest you fuck off. get a hint, you creep, she’s mine,” he snarled, making a move towards the other guy who was already scrambling to get away and profusely apologizing. mine, mine, mine. his words kept repeating in your head, your heart squeezing painfully. was he interested in you? would he ever come to see you more than just a barista? you sighed in both relief and affliction, trudging over to sukuna.

“i’m sorry i dragged you into this,” you apologized embarrassed, shoulders drooping and you stared at the floor just so he wouldn’t see your reddened cheeks. “he’s been pestering me so much and i kind of thought that that was the only way to get him to back off.”

“i don’t mind,” sukuna replied curtly, resuming his seat. he didn’t say anything else and you slightly panicked, you wanted to keep talking to him, stay in his company for a little longer.

“ah uhm sukuna, i want to thank you! if… if you don’t mind, i would like to treat you to another drink?” you suggested, your face now beet red. this was the most straightforward you had ever been with a guy, usually too shy to make a move. in distance you could hear the chime of the doorbell and the doors slamming, indicating that the group had left. you were alone. sukuna didn’t reply at first and you were sure you’d fucked up and got ready to backtrack and laugh it off when he nodded.

“go ahead, little one,” he nodded towards the counter. “you choose the drink.”

you didn’t know why sukuna kept calling you little one but for some reason, you didn’t mind. it did however make your heart ache in what you could only describe as melancholy. you weren’t sure why. while you started brewing some green tea for the two of you, the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. the pitter patter of raindrops against the glass front was the only sound audible in the entire café. sukuna hadn’t uttered another word, not even making a sound of acknowledgement when you handed him the cup of tea and sat next to him.

“you didn’t bring an umbrella,” you noted, looking out of the window. it was raining heavily, with no signs of it stopping anytime soon. “i guess you’ll have to stay here for a little longer, otherwise you’ll get sick. i hope you aren’t sick of me though.”

sukuna took a sip of his tea. “i don’t mind your company,” he replied, looking at you. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking but you sincerely hoped he wasn’t joking. hearing that gave you a little hope.

“i like moments like this,” you confessed to him, clutching the warm cup with your sweater paws. “having a warm cup of tea and watching the rain from the comfort of your home. or in this case, a café. the sound of rain is really calming, isn’t it? makes you forget about all your worries for a while, it’s just you and your cup of tea.”

again, sukuna didn’t reply for a while. you thought you’d bored him to death with your monologue until he spoke up: “i don’t see how it’s any different from having a cup at any time of the day.” your cup was placed back on the counter. you frowned, not sure how to explain it to him. in moments like these, sukuna seemed to be something of an old being that has seen everything, feelings now dull and locked away.

“well, see it like this. making yourself a cup of tea or coffee everyday is a normal thing to do, right? it happens almost automatically because it’s just part of your daily routine, you like how it tastes, it makes you feel more awake or helps you sleep. but… but you never really take your time to enjoy it, right?”

sukuna was contemplating, you almost giggled at the little frown on his face. but you were glad that he was willing to listen to you and discuss it with you, instead of dismissing the topic entirely. “but what does that have to do with rain?” he finally asked.

you pointed outside. “you wouldn’t really go out in this weather, right? not if you have any emergencies or urgent matters to attend to. and same goes for everyone else; it kind of… kind of forces you to stay inside, to fully enjoy your warm beverage. the sound of rain is pretty calming, it’s some kind of whitenoise that might block out intrusive thoughts, at least it does that for me. so it’s only you, the sound of rain and your cup of tea. for a few minutes, you can just relax and have a moment for yourself.”

sukuna still didn’t quite understand how humans worked. it’s been hundreds of years since he’s ceased to be human, he’s forgotten what is what like being human. what human emotions entailed. but he agreed, it has been a while since he’s felt at ease and peaceful even. it was a moment of bliss, a moment that caused a flare-up of old, buried feelings inside of him.

004.1

you still hadn’t mustered up the courage to actually ask sukuna out after you dragged him into that fake dating-situation. he did still come late at night, being the most loyal customer of the café at this point. it was almost… almost as if he’d seeked out your company. though he did tell you that he didn’t mind your company; your ego deflated a little. sukuna still wore his kimono but paired it with a thick winter coat - it was winter after all and the weather had been very extreme. the ground was covered in inches of snow and you hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. sukuna insisted on walking you home when your shift ended. you weren’t sure why because he’d never offered to do so before. you were thankful though since it was still snowing and the streets were completely empty; even though the snow looked beautiful, it was still a little eerie to walk home in this weather. especially since a lot of busses weren’t running anymore due blocked roads.

“sukuna, aren’t you cold?” you asked as you switched off the lights and fumbled with your keys. finally finding the right one, you closed up, shoving the keys back in your back and fishing out your gloves. “you don’t even wear gloves!” you gasped when you saw his bare hands, handing him one of yours. sukuna looked at you as if you were crazy.

he wasn’t cold but he couldn’t tell you that, couldn’t let you know that he was a curse. but handing him one of you gloves? you were too nice, always thinking of others first and never being selfish. sighing, he put on the glove that was uncomfortably small but he’d endure it for your sake.

“it’s been a while since we’ve had this much snow,” you mused and took a few steps around, giggling at the sound of crunching snow beneath your feet. sukuna simply followed you, looking comical with the bright yellow and tiny glove on his hand. you smiled at him, admiring how etheral he looked underneath the streetlights with the snowflakes flurrying around him and some getting stuck in his hair. your heart suddenly ached, a far away memory emerging. it was blurry and unclear, a cold night similar as this underneath the stars and a face staring at you. you couldn’t tell who it was nor were you sure whether it was just a case of déjà vu.

“you know, this kind of calls for a snowball fight,” you grinned at sukuna mischievously and grabbed some snow, beginning to form it into a ball. he raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, looking at you defiantly.

“i’m not going to indulge in childish business like th-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence as you hurled the snowball at him and giggled like a maniac as it hit his shoulder. you quickly hid behind a bush as you quickly tried to form another, enjoying the dumbfounded look on sukuna’s face. clearly, he didn’t expect you to follow through with your plan and was caught by surprise. “oh you’re on,” he growled after a moment and grabbed himself some snow as well. you quickly threw another snowball at him, this time only being able to hit his leg. eyes widening at the sight of sukuna raising his arm to throw his snowball at you, you let out a squeak and dove behind a tree - the snowball still hit you square on your back, making you yelp at the cold feeling.

for minutes you could only hear the crunches of snow, loud laughter and snowballs hitting objects. you sat on a bench, exhausted from running and ducking away and your belly was starting to hurt from all the laughter. sukuna caught up to you, juggling a snowball in his hands. “you gonna give up?” he asked, a smirk gracing his lips. clearly he was winning, being able to aim a lot better than you. you missed him most of the time but had fun regardless.

“never!” you replied, holding out your arms to defend yourself from the incoming snowball. it never came and instead sukuna was inching closer with an evil look in his eyes. oh no. what was he up to? you yelped when you realized that he was aiming for your neck, jumping up to get away from him. sukuna was quick to react and grabbed your arm, pulling you back into his chest and holding you close, smushing the snow against your neck. “ew sukuna, stop!” you laughed and squirmed in his arms until he threw the snowball away, rubbing your back gently.

“that was really cold, you know,” you pouted, burying your face in his chest.

he wrapped his arms around you, sighing quietly. “i know, i know, sorry.”

you swore that you felt his lips on the crown of your head.

005.

you were, undoubtedly, lost. your phone was about to die and you were stranded in the middle of the city, not sure where to go. to be fair, it was very, very easy to get lost here and it was your first time visiting. your grandparents lived here and while you’ve visited before, you couldn’t quite remember anything anymore. you were a child back then. and the city had drastically changed too, making it difficult for you to navigate yourself around. though your poor sense of direction was probably at fault as well. you sighed, trying to call your grandparents again. no one was picking up. you turned your phone off to save some of the battery, maybe you could call them later.

luckily, you’d brought your cameras so you could at least keep yourself busy until someone freed you from this misery. you walked towards the nearby shrine; there didn’t seem to be any people here, it was very quiet aside from the sound of cicadas. you took a few photos before continuing your journey, soon finding yourself standing on top of the hill. the view from here was breathtaking, even more so because the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in a beautiful yellow and orange hue. you fumbled with your camera again, trying to take a photo when someone suddenly moved into your shot. you paused and looked at the person in front of you who was staring at you as well. considering they were wearing a kimono, you assumed that they must work here. did you make a mistake? maybe you weren’t supposed to take photos and this person came to tell you off.

“i’m sorry!” you said quickly, quickly shoving your camera in your bag. “am i allowed to take photos here?”

the stranger frowned at you, clearing his voice before replying: “how am i supposed to know? i don’t work here.”

you groaned, rubbing your face in embarrassment. of course you’d say something wrong, you always did. and now you probably annoyed him too - he looked really annoyed. but since he wasn’t working here and there was no one else around, you guessed you could take photos after all. there was no one to tell you off anyways. however, the stranger was still standing there, looking at you in what seemed like interest. you felt awkward just continuing your endeavors without acknowledging him, so you asked: “do you live here? i’m just visiting, so i’m not very familiar with the city.”

“you could say that,” the stranger simply replied. when he didn’t say anything else, you decided that it probably was okay if you just continued taking photos without acknowledging him. though it did make you queasy, knowing that he was just watching you. didn’t he have anything else to do? a few minutes passed. he sighed and walked over, pointing at your camera. “what are you doing?” you were surprised at how straightforward he was, not expecting to engage in a conversation with you. maybe people in this city were just extra talkative and you’d have to get used to it. your grandparents never told you about this though.

“ah i’m visiting my grandparents here and i thought i’d document my stay here. so i can look at these photos whenever i want and just have the memories on photo,” you explained and rummaged in your bag to show him the polaroids you took earlier. “i particularly like polaroids because you can’t edit or change them… whatever moment you capture, it’s true to what you saw. there’s no need to make photos beautiful when they hold a special place in your heart and are tied to a specific memory.”

the stranger nodded, pointing to your polaroid camera. “and you take them with this device?” his choice of words startled you a little, he didn’t seem to be familiar with this type of camera which you found odd. everyone knew what these were nowadays, almost everyone owned them. but you didn’t want to judge him or make him feel stupid though, patiently explaining to him how the cameras worked and where he could purchase them. he seemed to be really interested, closely inspecting the camera, turning it around and fumbling with the buttons. only after you finished rambling, you realize how much time had passed - it was almost dark now and your grandparents were probably worried sick. your phone was turned off the entire time and you forgot to call them.

“excuse me, i really need to call my grandparents!” you looked at him apologetically, leaving him with your photos and camera. normally, you would be very wary; normally, you wouldn’t even show anyone your photos, rather keeping them to yourself because they were your precious memories. but something about him resonated with you, he seemed familiar and yet he didn’t.

you found a spot a few meters away from him calling your grandparents and profusely apologizing to them for not calling sooner. you promised them to wait at a popular and well known spot nearby so they could come to pick you up since it was already getting late, then hung up. to your relief, the stranger was still standing there, watching you intently. “thank you,” you smiled as he handed you your belongings. “my grandparents are picking me up soon, thank you for keeping me company. won’t you be going home soon?”

suddenly his face expression turned rather… sad? somewhat melancholic and you feared you’d said something wrong until he shook his head. “i have to go somewhere later. let me walk you for a bit, it is dark after all.” you looked at him a little dumbfounded, not expecting him to suggest something like that.

“oh you don’t have to! i’ll totally be fine, i-” “i want to. let’s go,” he interrupted you, already beginning to move. you hastily followed him, clutching your bag in your hands. the entire walk was rather silent, none of you saying a word. it wasn’t a tense and uncomfortable silence though - you very much enjoyed his presence. it made you feel safe too, even though you’d told him earlier that you didn’t mind walking by yourself, it was comforting to know that he was by your side. you were in an unfamiliar city after all. hell you even got lost, so who were you kidding. you wondered who the stranger was, what his story was, what his personality was like. this was a one time meeting though, so you didn’t really have any hope of meeting him again. that was very unlikely.

“okay this is the spot. my grandparents are going to pick me up here, so it’s okay if you go,” you pointed at a café and gave him a reassuring smile. he didn’t look impressed. “o-oh wait, i need to thank you somehow.” you held a finger up to signal him to wait for a bit and fished out a polaroid you’d taken earlier. it was a simple shot, only the temple, bits of the trees and the sunset in the background. but you thought it was appropriate, the two of you had shared this moment after all.

“here, this is for you. it’s not a lot but i guess… it’s a really nice photo and maybe the start of your collection, if you decide to get a polaroid camera?” he took the photo from you, inspecting it before nodding and thanking you. he looked like he was about to say something else but was interrupted by some bright car lights and the sound of honks.

“ah, i have to go! it was nice meeting you,” you bid farewell to him and waved, running towards the car. sukuna watched your figure retreat, arms dropping to his sides.

006.

it was so cold, so incredibly cold. you really hated disliked these long winters, the sky was constantly dull and grey, the days were short and you hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. it made you feel sluggish and unmotivated, you were just hoping that spring was coming earlier this year. you yearned for sunshine and warmth, to be able to go outside without freezing and just spend more time outside. regardless, you held onto your daily walks because they gave you some peace of mind in your hectic life. you were approaching the last year of your studies and the amount of exams, assignments and your looming thesis were just suffocating you. but soon, soon you were done and could finally take a breather, until then, the only moments of relaxation you’d have were your walks.

despite the cold, there were a lot of people near the park; children who were engaging in snowball fights, elderly who were walking their dogs and some joggers too. your eyes were wandering around, watching all the busy people around. too absorbed in your task, you didn’t notice the man in front of you until you bumped into him. you quickly removed your earbuds and apologized to him, about to continue walking when he suddenly grabbed your arm, holding you back. you were confused, did you maybe accidently hurt him when you bumped into him? you looked him up and down to make sure that he was okay; there really wasn’t anything wrong. he let go of your arm. “is something wrong?” you asked concerned and turned to him.

“y/n?”

you froze at the mention of your name. how did he know you?

“who are you? i’ve never met you before.”

in all your past lifetimes, you’d taught him how to be human again, how there was value and joy in even the littlest of things. with each iteration of your existence, sukuna thinks that he’s learned to love you more than the last. when he sees how at ease you are spending time with him, a curse that is feared by everyone, he contemplates confessing to you. but something holds him back, it’s the fear; the fear that you won’t return his feelings. he’s seen you be with someone else, see you fall in love countless of times. he yearns for it to be him, hoping that you do choose him, love him. for thousands of years, he’s spent his time finding you - your reincarnations don’t recognize him and it pains him to get to know you anew each time but nothing pains him as much as his existence. he wants to hold you, be yours, grow old with you.

for the first time in thousands of years, sukuna wishes to be human again.

ps.: i am so sorry if i hurt your heart there omg

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryoumen sukuna x you #sukuna imagines #ryoumen sukuna imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fic: cynosure #writing

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emperor-palpaminty · 3 years ago

Note

omg omg here's lovey lyrics from 'sunrise'/in the heights (the whole song has me yearning):

'and how do you say "kiss me?"' 'bésame' 'and how do you say "always?"' 'para siempre...'

with literally any clone tbh...im a big clone simp. omg im on a wolffe and crosshair kick right now though...imagine this prompt but with mando'a aiubckabsduahdku

kiss prompt 68???

ANYWAYS LOVE YOUR WRITING <3

CROSSHAIR BABEY, BECAUSE WE STAN MURDER TOOTHPICK BEING SOFT

Also did you have to make me remember that song and cry. I had to go find a translator so if this is wrong please come kick me, I couldn't find the EXACT words I wanted so I had to improvise

Prompts found here!

Crosshair was visiting the medbay more often. You found yourself scheduling private appointments with him, and this particular time you were looking into his burned body, soul scorched. You had finished scraping off the burned skin, laying bacta pads on him.

You glanced back at the Kaminoian who had opened the door. "I am here to check on the healing progress of CT-99-404." He folded his lengthy hands, insectoid eyes skimming Crosshiar, laying back on his bed.

"He's fine. Progress is normal." You frowned. "Please, let me do my work." You turned away, leaning over crosshair, fingers tender, pausing as the trooper inhaled sharply.

"See if you can increase the bacta concentration." The Kaminoian vocalized, voice echoing as he stalked out, the door sliding shut. "The sooner CT-99-404 is healed, the better."

You frowned openly now, smoothing your hand over Crosshair's bacta pad sitting on his eye. "Take your time, Crosshair."

"They left me." He hissed, quiet.

Your fingers hesitated, before moving up and stroking through the pale curls on his head. "I know." You settled on the bed, tugging him to you. "But not everyone has left you." You leaned him gently on your arm, stroking his hair. "I haven't." The clone was quiet, eyes closed. You sighed, softly, tugging him gently to you. "I won't," you added, quietly, promising to yourself and to Crosshair, though he may or may not have been asleep.

The lights stayed bright, only dimming as the allotted nighttime hour approached. In the dark, Crosshair spoke quietly. "You've been good to me, Doc." You felt him shift, breath warm against your shoulder. You scratched his curls again, feeling his face settle in your chest and bandaged arm wrapping around your wrist. "You... you're not going to leave."

It wasn't a question, but you felt the weight of it lingering in the air. "I won't, I'm not planning on it." You hummed, allowing Crosshair to nestle closer. "You know Mandalorian, right?"

"What does that have to do with this?"

"I'm trying to change the subject." You mumbled. "We don't have to-"

"No, no." His words were soft, uncharacteristically gentle. "I know a little."

"Can you say 'always'?"

There was a moment of pause, a pulse, where the clone sifted through his memories, trying to recover the correct translation. "Ratiin."

"I'll be here ratiin."

"Verburyc ratiin." Crosshair mumbled. "You'll be loyal. Remain. Always."

You smiled, still scratching his head. "Ver-ber-yuck ratiin."

"Terrible."

"I'll work on it," you whined, trying to bite down your smile. "Give me credit for trying."

Crosshair shifted, and he smiled against your skin, but small. "Minimal credit."

You chuckled, smoothing back his hair. "Can... how do you say 'kiss me'?"

Crosshair mumbled against your stark medical uniform. "Mureyca ni."

You licked your lips, softly, before whispering, "Mureyca ni?" He shifted, chin tilting up at you. "Please?" You mumbled, voice hoarse.

Crsshair exhaled, tugging on you, sliding you down to be even with him. "Only because you pronounced it well."

His lips met yours, his bandaged arm shifting to be more comfortable, and you held his face gently. He sighed against you, fingers resting on your back, allowing you to cradle him as you pressed your lips softly to his, again and again. Between the movements of your lips, in breaks, he mumbled, "Mureyca ni, mureyca ni," his desire to not be alone taking over. Crosshair sighed and hugged you to him, breaking the kiss to press his face into your neck.

You kissed his head, rocking him gently, mumbling, like a mantra, a hymn, a promise, "Ratiin, ratiin."

Always, always.

#crosshair x reader #bad batch reader insert #bad batch crosshair x reader #bad batch #crosshair #minty writes

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

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Let's say that darling has been very well behaved for over a year, stockholm has long since instilled into them, and shyly asks if they can try for a baby. How would the boys react? Which ones are on board for knocking up his darling? Pls I'm so horny for breeding it's embarrassing.

Ahh I finally finished for these! It took a while lol but I tried to cover most of it

Zhongli is the best for taking care of you. He's not super panicky, but he is subtly concerned due to seeing his darling as so fragile. Constantly running around and getting you everything you ask for and a bunch of things you didn't ask for. Making sure you virtually never get up, gets you all the food you crave and the softest things to lay on.

And he'll insist on it. Like... He won't let you do anything, even those few freedoms you had before. Will constantly be checking up on you, probably won't leave the house. You're gonna be seeing even more of him than usual.

Now, yandere wise... An escape attempt during this time... Won't go over well. As usual, he kind of deludes himself about it, attributes it to hysteria of some sort, induced by your imbalanced hormones. That's ok. You just need something to keep you controlled. Unfortunately, he can't just give you hormonal control, as it could mess you or the baby up, so most likely it means keeping you heavily sedated. Makes things much easier.

He's surprisingly really good at handling a kid, though. Very gentle and capable, not particularly nervous, but not careless. He's one you won't have to worry about.

Albedo can be... Obnoxious. Bless him. You can't eat this, there's a .0002% chance it can harm the baby. You should sleep in this position, wake up at this time, do breathing exercises, constantly check your temperature and blood pressure and... You get the idea. He's very matter of fact about it, but deep down he's a nervous boi about it all. He's worried about possibilities of something bad happening, and will feel like it's his fault if something bad did happen. He'll be overall eager to actually have a kid though.

So he'll kind of rule your every action for a while - it's better not to challenge him, really, because if you do he'll go on and on about the medical, scientific reasons why you can't do this and have to do that. He's sweet about it though, you can tell he really cares. Outside of what he's dictated as necessary or forbidden by health reasons, he'll try to get you the things you want and crave, and will try to keep you sitting down as much as possible.

He gets extra nervous when holding a kid. Very stiff, perfectly still, probably gives it back very quickly out of nervousness.

Childe is ever the smug bastard. Wants to show you off, will take you places because look at him and the cute little wife he knocked up! It's a property thing, you're his little wife and he fucked you and now you have his baby. He's very proud of it all.

And actually, he'll be a little sweeter than usual all around, he's just in such a good mood. He'll have to lay off the sadistic tendencies for the sake of your health, so you get some respite in that regard, he becomes a lot more gentle, and will even do sweet things for you. He'll still be kind of condescending, though, teasing you as usual.

On a yan level, he's... More obsessive. In the past, he might have been one to leave little windows of opportunity to leave just to chase you, gave you wiggle room to be defiant so he could get the thrill of punishing you, but that's gone now. The moment you act up he'll lay down the consequences, and make it very clear you won't be disobeying from now on.

Holding a kid, he's more gentle than usual, but will definitely be one to pull some shit like pretending like he's about to drop it just to see you panic.

Bonus, a few years down the road he's gonna be super obsessive and showoff-y. Think Maes Hughes level of proud.

Diluc is kind of hilarious because he's a nervous wreck. It's adorable. It gets annoying kinda fast, though, he's constantly panicked over every little thing you do, acts like a slight pained groan is a sign that you're dying or something. He's kind of embarrassed about his own tendency to be overly worried, and he'll cave to being teased about it. He'll be very happy initially because it fits the ideal in his head of what he wants, though.

He's actually not particularly worse, because you're already pretty restricted. He will, however, significantly reduce the number of people that come to the winery, instead choosing to meet all of his appointments elsewhere if not cancel them entirely. He doesn't like people being close to you, even just in proximity - even if they don't know you're there, it makes him feel uneasy. He'll check on you frequently, more than usual, and insist on everything you eat, drink, and every waking moment is accounted for and approved of.

He'll hesitate to hold one because he's so nervous about dropping it or something. And he nearly does because he's so trembling. Again, it's actually really cute, and he's definitely embarrassed by it.

Kaeya is... Problematic. As I've said before, he's actually one of a few where you run the risk of jealousy. It's incredibly immature, and he's well aware of that, so he'll keep it well hidden. But it kind of irks him if he sees how much you stress over a baby. As a result, he's one of the ones who might actually be in a worse mood than he was before. He'll need a lot of reassurance, not in those exact words because he's too proud to say so directly, but reassurance that you'll always love him more. And it's in your best interest to give an affirmative answer. Pregnancy with him would probably be an accident, but if you ask he might agree to it.

Will definitely be more restrictive, and potentially a bit rougher, even. He'll still feel bad for you and do things for you, but he'll cling to you even more, and more shamelessly than usual. He'll double check the locked doors, make sure there's a guard posted to grab you if you try to bolt. If you do, it's even less pretty than usual. He'd be one that isn't afraid to threaten you, really. If you like a kid so much more than him, you wouldn't want him to take the kid away and give it to someone else once it's born, would you?

If holding it, he kinda... Calms down. A lot of those doubts and negative feelings are still there, but he can't help but feel an affection too. He'll get really quiet, but serious.

Xingqiu is a bit similar to Albedo. Very matter of fact about it all, and boy does his research. He's happy about it and gladly will knock you up, but he's very particular about everything. Like, good God, you didn't know there were so many books on pregnancy. He's a worrier, but he's got a little bratty pride and won't let you know he's a nervous wreck about it all. He makes himself out to be The Expert, but he's actually pretty worried about your health. Similarly, he'll regulate you quite a bit, insist on having his family's servants do things for you, so he doesn't have to spend a second away from your side.

He likes to spend a lot of time fantasizing, though, he's also one of those that really likes to do "child planning." He's got their education planned out, he's got lists of names, he smiles as he daydreams about doing this and that. Overall he's one of the best you can have in this regard.

He's the gentlest little thing if he's holding a child. You don't have to worry about anything, really, he's soft and gentle and probably the best of all for holding.

Razor is, and y'all saw this coming, very pleased! Generally in a very good mood, smiling and nuzzling you even more than usual. To be honest, your lifestyle doesn't change much, still consisting of sitting around all day, but he insists you sleep more, and will trade any walks you used to take with even more naps.

Likes to lay his head on your belly, generally just being extremely physically affectionate, cuddly and nuzzly even more than usual, which is saying something tbh. He's the opposite of the Albedo/Xingqiu type - he'll be asking you questions because he understands the very basic concept of fuck -> pregnant -> baby, but ???? How does it work? Why are you so moody? Why are you craving weird food? Boy did not realize how much goes into it all and it's very confusing. You can use this to your advantage, though. Tell him humans can't fuck while pregnant or it's guaranteed to harm the baby or something - he'll be devastated but reluctantly accept it. You'll just have a sore throat for a while.

Please don't let this boy carry a baby without specifically teaching him how to do so. You'll have a heart attack when he tries to pick it up by the back of the neck or by the foot or something. He's happy though, at least.

Xiao is... Difficult. He'll be actually pretty easily agreeing to it, really, he has no real reason to object even if he's uneasy. He's kind of detached from it, and really his behavior doesn't change much outside of a few comments here or there and willingness to get you certain foods. He probably would find a trusted source to teach him what he needs to know on how to take care of you, he's too proud to ask you himself. It's safe to say his knowledge on it all is virtually zero, but deep down he IS concerned for your well-being, even if he doesn't show it very well.

Xiao's already one of the most restrictive yans, so like with Razor, your lifestyle doesn't change much - you go from being locked in a room all day... To be locked in a room all day, except now you're pregnant. He'll probably be more cautious to check on you more often, though.

Tbh, he's also one that might get a bit jealous, but he wouldn't know why, rather, doesn't recognize and understand his own feelings. He'll just kind of sulk a bit, even pout, it's pretty uncharacteristic and even a bit funny.

Holding a kid, you'll probably be a bit uneasy, just because he has no concept of gentleness, but he does surprisingly well if given instructions.

#lena's asks #tw: pregnancy

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multifandhoem · 4 years ago

Text

fluids.

fluids. || Hanamaki Takahiro x Reader x Matsukawa Issei

A/N: Honestly, I don’t even know what to say about that one, apart from that I am deeply sorry and will see you all in hell.

Genre: smut (pure filth)

Summary: Y/N wants to try something and being the perfect and willing friends, Matsukawa and Hanamaki help her with her problem.

Warnings: where do I even begin cursing, cum eating, threesome, butt stuff (lots of butt stuff), a lot of toys, double penetration, spitting, slight humiliation, slight slut shaming, spanking, oral giving and receiving, dom!Matsukawa, dom!Hanamaki, sub!Reader, mentions of MxM, lots of fingering, have I mentioned toys?

Word count: 7.406

Hanamaki and Matsukawa were your best friends for years. You trusted them with your life. So why were you so nervous just at the thought of asking them that dreaded question.

You were currently in their shared apartment, a place you visited quite regularly due to your horrible roommate in your college dorm. You were all spread over their three-seater couch, a generous donation of Mattsun’s aunt after all cheaper couches were way too small for the former volleyball players who by now were pretty close to the 190 cm mark.

“You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet today.”

You flinched a bit, and it would have been unnoticeable, if you weren’t laying across their laps, with your head on Makki’s thigh and your thighs over Mattsun’s. The former only raised his eyebrows at your reaction at his question and Mattsun soon joined him in his questioning glare. Suddenly feeling cornered you shrunk a bit under their gaze, clearing your throat quietly.

“It’s nothing.”

Makki’s eyebrows rose even higher and you desperately tried avoiding his eyes, finally sitting up, successfully eliminating your physical contact with them.

“Yah, what’s up with you?” Mattsun looked legitimately concerned, his eyebrows nearly meeting in the middle.

“You shouldn’t make a face like that or it’ll stay.” He rolled his eyes at your teasing, while you mustered a grin, standing upright after. “I just need to take a piss, no need to worry!” With that you sauntered off to the bathroom, hoping that they would’ve forgotten that awkward conversation when you got back.

You didn’t need to pee at all. You just stood there in front of the mirror, not believing your own stupidity. How could you even think about asking that question? How could you even think about them in that context? An exasperated sigh left your lips. Hopefully, they wouldn’t press on the matter further.

For good measure, you pressed on the flush and washed your hands, so they wouldn’t be suspicious.

“When you’re already standing you can bring me another beer!” Hanamaki waved his empty bottle in your direction with a grin and you felt relief washing over you. They decided to drop it, thank god. “Wait, wait!” Mattsun reached for his bottle on the table, finishing the remains in three large gulps before extending the bottle your way, too. “Just be thankful I feel guilty for crashing here so often!” You rolled your eyes with a grin but reached for their bottles anyways. On your way to the kitchen, you heard Mattsun’s loud burp behind you, commented with a deep laugh that could only belong to your light-haired friend. “Gross!” You commented while taking new cool bears out of the fridge, putting new ones in from the stack of beer crates, conveniently located right next to it.

It wasn’t really that much of a deal though, was it? You were back in your previous position and again the thoughts invaded your mind. They were your best friends. And they were on their third beer over the course of like two hours, so they had a bit of alcohol in their blood but weren’t drunk. You always felt comfortable around them. And even if you didn’t, they made sure you were loosening up soon enough.

The episode of the sports anime you originally convinced them to watch was forgotten, you just had to watch it at home to be up to date again. Should you just ask them? Maybe you shouldn’t have stopped after your second beer. Maybe you would have more courage then.

“You guys are bi, right?” Both heads turned to you in an instant. “That’s what you were so worked up over?” Makki sounded downright appalled, expecting something much bigger than that. “I thought you knew that?” Mattsun sounded as unbelieving as his friend, both paying no mind to the show anymore, just watching you squirm again.

It was uncomfortable under their stares, but at the same time, touching both of them made you feel a bit more confident.

“No, I mean, I knew that but… that means you both have experience with guys, right?” Your eyes were focused on your hands on your stomach fidgeting away. “Yes, we fucked a couple of times if that’s what you’re asking.” Mattsun’s dry answer made you shoot up in shock, nearly hitting Makki in the chin on the way. “What? No, that was NOT what I was asking! You did what? When?” That was an outcome you really didn’t anticipate. Makki laughed behind you, apparently finding your reaction incredibly amusing.

“Why are you asking, princess, wanna join in?”

That was not what you had planned at all. You felt your face heating up, eyes fixated on the old hardwood floor. “Fuck, you do?” You don’t think you have ever seen Mattsun’s eyes as wide as they are now.

“NO. I mean kind of. I mean not really. I didn’t even know you two fucked!” You were waving your hands around nervously, still avoiding eye contact.

“Okay, okay. Let’s calm down for a second. Take a sip and then tell us what you’ve been thinking about.” Makki seemed equally as surprised as Mattsun (and as you, tbh), but still tried to take control over the situation, handing you his beer bottle.

“It’s just… with you being bi and having experience with guys… you have tried anal, right?” Your face was burning with embarrassment at this point. You were nervously clutching the bottle, rolling it around in your hands, completely missing the look the other two shared.

“Yeah, what about it?” Mattsun scooted a bit closer, trying to make his voice as soft as possible, to not stir your nervousness even more.

“I have never really tried it. I mean I haven’t had a serious boyfriend in the last years, you know that but I’m really curious and I kind of tried it, but I didn’t really work, and I kind of want advice.” Your voice kept going quieter in the end and you still couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head.

Makki cleared his throat. “Verbal or physical advice?” You bit your lip. Now or never. “I don’t know.” You were a wimp. “Look at us, princess.”

Both of them had serious expressions on their face when you finally met their eyes, but they were in no way angry or disgusted. Thank god.

“I mean, I totally get why you’re curious, but if you tried it and it didn’t really work, maybe you don’t like it?” Mattsun offered you a small smile, but you just shook your head wildly. “All my friends say it’s great. And I don’t even know if I tried it correctly. I didn’t do any research or something like that. That’s why I want advice!” You began talking faster again, flaying your hands wildly in the air and nearly making a mess, if Makki hadn’t taken the bottle out of your grasp right before. His fingers remained around your wrist, slowly taking your hand in his. “Stay calm, princess, we’re not judging you. What did you try exactly?” You could see the slight blush on his cheeks when he asked that question and seeing him a bit nervous made you feel a bit better.

“Just a bit fingering. I mean I tried, but it didn’t even go in.” Makki smiled a bit at the way you whined, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Did you use enough lube?” You turned to him with wide eyes. “I didn’t use any.” Mattsun let out a scandalous gasp. “Oh god, princess, of course, it didn’t really work. Lube is like the most important part of anal play!”

A blush adorned your cheeks once again. “I don’t have any at home, I usually don’t need it.” Both their eyebrows rose high at your statement and you buried your face in your hands.

“Okay. If I understand that correctly, you want us to try anal with you.” It was more of a statement than a question, but you nodded, face still immerged in your hands.

“Okay. Okay.” Mattsun sounded a bit overwhelmed with the situation. “We can’t really do anything today. We ate a lot of ramen like two hours ago and drank beer. And trust me, doing butt stuff after eating is not the perfect way. Especially not for your first time.” Maybe you were reading him wrong.

“Come here, princess.” They pulled you on their laps again and you finally looked them in the eyes again. “No need to be ashamed anymore, okay? I mean we’re down for it. You got a cute butt.” Makki grinned at you in a way that made you immediately feel more at ease, but the following pinch to your butt made you yelp in surprise. They both laughed and after a short moment, you joined them as well.

Why were you even worried? They were your best friends. You have nothing to be ashamed of in front of them. They have done way more embarrassing things in front of you for there to be any kind of space for shame.

“We shouldn’t do much today, but we could still set some guidelines, are you okay with that?” Mattsun had scooted all the way over to Makki, you being perched on one of each of their thighs. “Guidelines?”, you echoed dumbly, turning your head to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, well, anal is a very sexual thing. So it obviously has to be sexually enjoyable. And if we would know what you like beforehand, it would kind of help!” He grinned wickedly at you, hands finding their place at your hips, thumbs softly caressing the skin between your sweatpants and your shirt.

“Oh.” Oh. You didn’t really think that far. Of course, it was something sexual. It is called anal sex for fucks sake. You knew it was something sexual. But still, the topic of the conversation together with you being on their laps made a blush rise to your cheeks again.

“Don’t be shy, princess.” You felt Makki shift a bit, leaning forward until his lips were on your neck, nipping lightly at the soft skin.

“Well, I don’t really like being in control.” You finally brought some words over your lips, feeling Makki’s lips change into a grin at your neck.

“Wouldn’t have guessed that the way you were practically begging both of us to train your asshole.” Mattsun’s amused words sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t deny that this situation turned you on a bit.

A whimper escaped you when Makki bit down on a particularly sensitive spot and both boys chuckled behind you. “You should come next Friday. And stay for the weekend. Is that alright?” His tone was surprisingly casual. Weren’t they affected in any way? “That works for me,” you still answered softly.

“Perfect. Why don’t you turn around for us, princess?” Mattsun pinched your hips in an invitational manner and you got up to straddle their thighs right afterward.

“Are you alright with kissing?” Each one had a hand on your thigh, Makki’s even laying right under the curve of your butt.

“What kind of question is that? I want you to put something in my ass, of course, I’m alright with kissing!” They chuckled at your answer before Makki leaned forward to capture your lips with his. It was soft at first. Not a lot of tongue. He cautiously tested your boundaries, starting with little pecks, and working his way up to a slow and sensual kiss.

Mattsun’s hands had begun roaming your body, pinching and grabbing everywhere, but never on any of the places where you wanted him.

That was until Makki straight up grabbed your ass to pull you closer towards their bodies. A surprised gasp escaped you and he used that to deepen the kiss, practically ravishing your mouth. Mattsun by now has moved on under your shirt, his rough fingers caressing your sensitive sides, making you shiver in the process. Soon his hands started kneading your breasts over your bra and you moaned in Makki’s mouth when they suddenly both retreated. You whined at your loss, eyes switching between them pleadingly.

“Look at you,” Mattsun cooed, his hand moving up to squish your cheeks slightly together. “We haven’t really done anything and you’re already so desperate.”

He then leaned towards you, kissing you for the first time himself. His lips were softer than Makki’s, but he used more force, pressing his tongue into your mouth almost immediately. But there were no roaming hands this time. And Mattsun soon leaned back again, a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips.

“We shouldn’t go too far today. But it’s good that you’re comfortable kissing us. We should keep that going at least until Friday. You alright with that?” You nodded at Makki’s words, still trying to process what they were saying.

Were they just going to leave you high and dry? Okay, they didn’t know you were so turned on, just by the talk about sex and that bit of kissing. And you would not tell them. This encounter was already embarrassing enough, you didn’t need to give them, even more, to tease you about.

You nodded again, moving into a less straining, and less sexual position from straddling their thighs to just sitting sideways over their laps, leaning against Makki’s broad chest.

“On Friday… please shower beforehand.” Mattsun’s words startled you a bit. “Like, should I clean inside? How do I do that?” You were so clueless about anything anal related, it was kind of amusing to the two guys. “You don’t have to clean the inside. And we can help you with that, too, we have some water enemas, but they shouldn’t be used too regularly, please remember that. But for Friday just making sure that you are clean on the outside is enough.” Mattsun rubbed comforting circles on your thighs, explaining everything in a calm voice.

You relaxed a bit at his words, leaning back down against Makki.

“Don’t forget, there’s no need to be nervous. We’re always happy to help!” Makki pressed a kiss on the crown of your head. “Especially with sexual things!” Mattsun added with a perverted grin, pinching your inner thigh again.

“Do you usually like being praised or being talked down onto?” Apparently, they haven’t quite left the topic of what you like in the bedroom.

“Ehm, I mean, usually more talking down, to be honest, but with something I’ve never done before I’m not so sure…” You knew you shouldn’t be nervous. They were so understanding and willing to help you, they wouldn’t judge you for something like this. But you still couldn’t help your face flaring up again.

Both of them nodded with a knowing smile, seemingly already scheming a plan on how to handle you in a couple of days.

“It’s alright, princess, we will be careful with you. Now let’s go to bed, we have class in the morning. Do you wanna sleep with me or with Makki?” Mattsun carefully repositioned your legs when he stood up, leaning down to press another kiss to your lips, and one on Makki’s right afterward with a sly grin on his face.

You stayed quiet. How could you choose now? “Let’s all sleep in my bed,” Makki finally ruled after you hadn’t said anything for a couple of seconds, avoiding eye contact during that time. You shot him a thankful smile before climbing off his lap and getting dragged by Mattsun towards the bathroom.

You stayed the night more often than not, already having a toothbrush and the most important toiletries on a space reserved just for you over the sink. Usually, you would sleep on the couch, though.

“About time.” Mattsun grinned at you and extended his arms in your direction when you finally emerged from the bathroom after removing your makeup and doing a very small skincare routine. They had left you after you all brushed your teeth, waiting for you on Makki’s king-sized bed, with a spot reserved for you in the middle.

Both pressed small kisses to your face when you laid down in between them, making you giggle. “Night, Makki. Night, Mattsun.” You mumbled when you all had found a comfortable sleeping position. “You should call us by our first names, you know?” Oh right, that actually made sense.

“Night, Hiro. Night, Issei.” You corrected yourself with a smile and after their chorus of ‘Night, Y/N.’ the room became quiet.

They had managed to make you feel comfortable every time you saw them. But now that it was Friday and you were standing in front of their door, every ounce of nervousness came back. With shaky fingers you pressed on the doorbell, hearing it echoing from inside. It did not take very long for Hiro to appear in the doorway, a bright smile on his face, and a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

“Hi, princess!” He tugged you towards him in an instant, leaning down with puckered lips. With a small chuckle, you kissed him, your nerves immediately feeling calmed down after experiencing his carefree attitude. “We were just doing some dishes, do you want something to drink?” He leads you towards the kitchen where Issei was positioned by the sink, yellow gloves on his hands, washing the last set of plates that were probably resting on the countertop for the last couple of days.

The scene was strangely normal, apart from the kiss you two shared again after he ditched the gloves and could snake his arms around you.

Well, what did you expect? It’s not as if they would jump on you as soon as you entered. You made yourself a glass of water, eagerly gulping it down to soothe your dry throat.

Hiro didn’t take long finishing drying the dishes and soon you found him pressed against your back. “Let’s go to the bedroom, okay, princess?” You could only nod, taking Issei’s hand and following him towards his bedroom. It was uncharacteristically clean, and the bed was even made, a sight you have not seen in the three years those two occupied the apartment.

“Don’t be nervous, okay? We can stop anytime you want.” Hiro appeared behind you, his hands on your hip and lips pressed into your neck.

“I want this.” Were you trying to convince them or yourself? You didn’t know, but it worked, either way, a small feeling of excitement spreading in your stomach when Issei kissed you.

Being caged between your two best friends was never a position you imagined yourself being in (or realistically imagined) but here you were.

Your hands moved up to tangle themselves in Issei’s dark locks, him slightly moaning into your mouth when you tugged a bit too hard. His hands moved under your shirt kneading your breasts, while Hiro’s hands already dipped a bit into the front of your pants, fingers fiddling with the zipper and it didn’t take long until you were left without any clothes on.

“Look at you! Dressing up all pretty for us?” They appreciatively let their eyes wander over your body, only clad by a black lingerie set.

You felt incredibly exposed, with them still being fully clothed and looking at you so hungrily.

“Damn, you have great tits!”, Hiro exclaimed when pushing the lace covering your breasts down, immediately taking them into his hands for good measure. He let out a deep groan and Issei soon joined him, lips latching onto your right breast, gently nipping on the sensitive flesh.

You didn’t know what to do with your hands, shyly caressing their arms, lightly dipping into their sleeves to feel their biceps under your hands. “Take them off, please?”

In your mind, you scolded yourself for how unsure you seemed, but those thoughts were quickly erased when they both complied, exposing their toned torsos.

“Do you wanna lay on the bed, princess?” Hiro phrased it as a question but there was an unspoken command. You made a step towards the bed behind them, Issei quickly undoing the clasp of your bra when you passed them to obey Hiro’s command. “On your stomach.”

Quickly you corrected your position, your hands lying next to your head.

Butterfly kisses were pressed onto your naked shoulder blades, four hands roaming your back, butt, and thighs continuously.

“You’re very tense.” You didn’t know what to answer to that, only muttering a quiet apology. Your words got lost in a moan, when suddenly a finger was pressed to your core, playing with your vagina through the lace fabric of your panties.

You tried grinding back onto the finger, but strong hands held your hips in place, both boys chuckling at your exasperated whine. Your underwear got pushed to the side and soon the finger was back, slightly toying at your entrance.

“Oh, I know now why you said you don’t need any lube. Hiro, fuck, look at that. She is wet wet!” A second finger joined, and Hiro chuckled surprised, moving some of your slick around and towards your clit, loosely rubbing the bundle of nerves.

“Lift up your ass for a second.” You obeyed and soon you were completely bare in front of them, one hand still toying at your vagina, while two others were caressing your butt, spreading your cheeks and groping the flesh in a rough but still kind of soft manner. That was, until a slap echoed through the room, combined with the moan that escaped you as you felt the impact a hand with your butt. “I knew you would enjoy that.” Hiro sounded incredibly smug, repeating is former action a bit harder and on the other cheek. Again, a moan escaped you, trying once more to grind back into their hands, again to no avail.

“You really are quite a horny slut, aren’t you?” Issei’s mouth was extremely close to your core and you shuddered when you felt his breath over your lower lips.

“Raise your hips again?” You immediately did as you were told, feeling a pillow being stuffed under your hipbone to raise your hips permanently.

The finger, that has been rubbing very slow circles on your clit, disappeared, but soon enough your legs were spread. The cool air hitting your wetness was a tease in itself, but it was right away replaced by a hungry tongue, lapping up your juices. Hiro reappeared in your field of vision, connecting your lips again, to muffle the moans that were escaping you.

Issei’s nose was pressing into your vagina, his lips, tongue, and teeth relentlessly working on your clit.

“Please, please, I’m going to come!” It was embarrassing, really, how fast your best friend was able to bring you to that point. “Already?” Issei was less surprised, more smug when he suddenly pushed two fingers inside you and latched onto your clit again.

“Come on, princess.” Hiro slapped your ass again and with a loud moan, you released onto Issei’s mouth, who greedily lapped up everything you offered him.

“Well, you look a lot more relaxed, now!” You could hear the teasing out of his voice when he reemerged from between your legs, tongue slipping out to get the rest of your glistening arousal. You were a lot more relaxed now, still panting from your orgasm, that you didn’t even flinch when a huge drop of lube got placed on your lower back. And your asscheeks. Four hands were immediately on your backside, massaging your cheeks and lower back in a slow and sensual way, getting small moans from you as a response. After a couple of minutes, your cheeks got spread, another dollop of lube falling right in the center.

A finger softly began massaging it into the area around your puckered hole and soon, more lube was added.

You were incredibly nervous. But both of their hands on your backside was kind of comforting. And when a kiss was pressed onto your shoulder blades you relaxed with a shaky exhale.

“You’re doing so good, princess.” Issei pressed another kiss on your back and you whimpered a bit as a response. “Hand me the vibe, will you?” Hiro’s words made Issei sit up again, his lips leaving your skin. Vibe? What vibe?

Your question soon got answered when a small buzzing sound started, and the silicon bullet got pressed lightly against your hole. “Oh,” you gasped, hips jerking for a second but again some hands stopped you. And then a finger found its way back towards your clit, circling it again. Hiro was alternating his fingers and the small vibrator at your asshole, continuously adding more lube and sometimes pressing harder, but still keeping everything fairly light.

It was feeling really pleasurable and the next time he pressed the vibe harder against your hole, you couldn’t hold back the small moan anymore.

Hiro cooed at the way your asshole clenched around nothing, tentatively pressing a tip of his finger inside. You moaned when his digit passed the rim. It didn’t hurt at all, like that time you tried it by yourself. Apparently, lube really was the savior. Or it was your best friends, who have been patient and soft with you all the way through, gently leading you to this moment. More lobe got added to your hole and Hiro’s finger disappeared, but reentering you more slicked up just after a second. He still only put the tip of his finger inside, slightly wiggling it around before replacing it with the vibrator again.

“You look really good with my finger in your ass. And Issei’s working your pussy. Is that why you asked two of us? You want to take it so far to get double penetrated, take each of us in a different hole?” You knew it was only dirty talk. He was trying to take your mind off the slight stretch of your ass when he pushed his finger in deeper. But you couldn’t help the way you desperately moaned at the comment.

“Oh? Look at your hole twitching!” Issei sounded incredibly amused, his finger moving from toying with your clit to your vagina, which was clenching around nothing. “You like that thought? Every hole of you filled with another cock? Maybe we should ask Iwaizumi or Oikawa to join, too. So that you can be stuffed like the little whore you are!”

With another moan you tried to move your hips once again, this time successfully burying Hiro’s finger deeper in your ass. A slap to your cheek was the immediate answer. “Impatient slut. Better behave or we won’t be so gentle anymore!”

You nodded shakily, already feeling full by the finger in your ass and one at the entrance of your pussy.

But Hiro soon pulled out again, dropping even more lube on your now slightly looser hole, before the small bullet vibrator came into action again. You moaned loudly when it got pressed into your hole, slightly wider than Hiro’s finger it was still a stretch.

“I love your ass. It looks really cute like this.” Accommodating his words Issei pressed a kiss to your left buttcheek.

Hiro still worked the vibrator in your ass, fingers massaging the flesh around your rim. “I’m going to plug you soon, you alright with that?” You could only nod, desperate for more friction. You asked for gentle and slow. But you wanted to come again. And, as embarrassing as it was to admit, you loved it when they talked down on you, ordering you around.

You felt his lubed up pinky join the vibrator in your hole and moaned again when suddenly both vanished and got replaced by a cold metal object. “She’s going to look so pretty!” Issei rubbed your clit a bit harder, while the cold object got greased up in the juices around your hole.

Another drop of lube followed when Hiro finally began pushing it into your ass. You soon realized what it was, a small plug, thinner at the tip but wider in the middle.

The widest part was a bit bigger than every other thing you have taken in your hole so far, but it still didn’t hurt, just a tight stretch, but with the lube and the fingers massaging your lower back, it went in without a big hassle.

“You look so good, do you wanna take a look at yourself?” You nodded and turned around, finally seeing your two friends again. Issei immediately tugged you onto his lap, pressing your back against his chest and turning towards his closet, where a huge mirror adored one door.

And there, right between your buttcheeks, rested a jeweled plug. You moaned again at the sight and at the proud grin that was on both of their faces. Issei reached down, pressing his palm against the red jewel, slightly wiggling it inside. You threw your head back on his shoulder, grasping his wrist to press it closer against your core, nearly humping his arm in desire. “Now, now, no need to get ahead of yourself,” Hiro intervened, taking your hands from Issei’s arm. “If you beg nicely, we give you something you can fuck yourself on.” His grin was downright evil and it got even worse, when he pressed the vibrator from before against the plug, making it move inside you.

“Please, please, Hiro, Issei, please, I really want to come!” There were tears prickling in your eyes. The constant stimulation at your ass felt good, but it was nothing you could orgasm from. You needed something in your vagina. Something that fucks you, preferably.

“You know, maybe if you crawl a bit on your knees, it would help.” Your eyes went wide at Issei’s words, but obediently you slipped from his lap, getting on your knees in front of them. You crawled towards the door on all fours, hearing them groan behind you. “You know what we should invest in? A tail plug.” The thought of them making you literally your pet excited you, again clenching around nothing, but still wishing something was filling your other hole, too.

“Sit on my lap again.” Your back was once again pressed against Issei’s naked chest, your legs being kept open by his strong thighs. “Here, princess.” Hiro’s eyes caught yours in the mirror and with a playful smile, he handed you a medium-sized purple dildo. “Fuck yourself.” The command was simple. But you still hesitated. You never masturbated in front of somebody else before. It seemed kind of humiliating. But that thought was it, that made arousal shoot to your core once again. And with a firm nod, you lined the dildo up your entrance, slowly easing it inside.

Leaning your head back on Issei’s shoulder you began moving it inside your core, pleasure slowly filling your body with each thrust. “Look at us, princess.” You raised your head again, eyes meeting theirs in the mirror, fastening your pace and letting moans escape you.

A small cry left your lips once you found that special spot inside you, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your movements became sloppier. On the one hand, you were desperately chasing your orgasm, but on the other hand, the pleasure was too much to have much control over your movements anymore. You cried for relief, when suddenly another hand closed around the dildo, continuing your thrusts with new harsh ferocity.

“I said, look at us!” Hiro growled in your ear, pushing the toy harder into you. After you took too long to react Issei closed a hand around your neck, pressing at the sides and forcing you to face the mirror again. It was a downright sinful picture. You were completely fucked out, so close to your orgasm, being chocked by one man and fucked with a purple dildo by the other.

With a cry you let your orgasm wash over you, clenching around both toys stuck inside you while throwing your head back on Issei’s shoulder once again.

“Fuck, you look filthy.” With a chuckle Issei broke the silence, his hand slowly falling from your neck again. “Let’s get you cleaned up, princess.” With a smile Hiro fell to his knees in front of you, slowly tugging the dildo out of you. Next, it was the small plug. You groaned at the overstimulation, hips twitching.

“I don’t wanna. Can take more!”, you mumbled, trying to sit yourself up straight. With raised eyebrows Hiro shoved two of his fingers inside your asshole again, chuckling at the way you winced. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You’re here for the whole weekend, we don’t have to wreck you on the first day.” Issei got up with you in his arms, slowly carrying you towards the bathroom and filling the tub with water.

“But what about you?” Your eyes were big, trailing to their respective bulges in their sweatpants. “You wanna suck us off while we wait for the water?” Issei was gentle with you, setting you down on the soft mat in front of the tub, softly caressing your cheek. You nodded wildly and amused both men pushed their sweatpants lower.

You first took Issei in your hand, your tongue trailing up and down on his dick, wetting it before finally enveloping it with your mouth. A rough groan escaped him and his fingers weaved themselves into your hair, slightly fucking into your mouth when Hiro’s tip bumped against your cheek. You looked up and were immediately greeted with another groan. “Fucking hell, princess, keep looking at me!” Despite Issei’s words, you took his dick out of your mouth, moving on to Hiro, while jacking Issei’s now thoroughly wet dick off with your right hand. Hiro’s cock was a bit smaller and thinner than Issei’s and you couldn’t help but remember his words from before. Having both of them fill you at the same time was a new sexual fantasy that manifested itself in your mind in the last hour.

“Who knows, maybe tomorrow it will be in your ass.” He seemed to read your mind and you couldn’t help but moan again at the thought, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure up his spine.

You switched again back to Issei, who immediately started softly fucking your mouth, chasing his high. “Come on, princess.” Hiro groaned, taking over from your hand and jacking himself off even faster than you had done it before. You gagged around Issei’s cock, tears falling from your eyes but still desperately trying to please him. They made you come twice today. It was only fair you gave some back.

With a final moan, Issei pulled out of your mouth releasing himself all over your face, partly inside your mouth. “Keep your mouth open.” Hiro’s command was harsh, and his breathing labored. He was close, too. So you turned towards him, Issei’s cum still swimming inside your mouth, cheeks painted a delicious white.

Hiro managed to release most of his load inside your mouth, but he still got some spurts over your face and in your hair.

Panting both boys looked down at you, cooing at how cute you looked with their cum all over your face. “Swallow,” Issei instructed, holding your chin between his fingers. The mix of their seamen left a salty taste in your mouth, when you opened it again, to show them that you swallowed every last drop. With a groan, Hiro began scooping up the rest of the cum on your face and pushing it into your mouth. “You’re a cute little slut, aren’t you? Our slut.” With that possessive mark, he leaned down, letting his spit drop into your mouth, which was still held open by Issei, who repeated the action.

Their gazes on you were proud as you swallowed that second load also.

“You were great, princess.” Hiro was pressing kisses on the top of your breasts. All of you squeezed into the tub, washing each other carefully with a loofah they apparently got only for today. “Should we order some food?” You just nodded, leaning back onto Issei contently. “Wanna eat you.”

Hiro’s eyebrows rose and you felt Issei chuckle behind you. “You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

“And here I was, wanting to be lenient since it’s your first time trying anal. But oh well. You asked for it, princess.” With a broad grin, Hiro heaved you out of the tub, haphazardly drying you both off with a towel, before both men were already leading you back to the bedroom.

You soon found yourself back in your previous position with your hips perched on top of the pillow and Issei’s fingers buried deep in your still stretched ass. The main difference was the vibrator stuck in your pussy and that you were trying not to choke on Hiro’s cock.

“Keep your legs open, princess. I will not hesitate to use a spreader bar.” The casual mention of the utensil made you wonder just how many sex toys those two had. Four of them were already used on you, but Hiro had told you that they started with the smallest plug, hinting at a bigger assortment.

“We really wanted to go easy on you, princess.” Issei sighed in mock sadness, quickening the pace of his two fingers, making you cry around Hiro’s cock. “But you just had to be even more filthy than we expected.” A harsh slap met your left asscheek.

“We already knew you were perverted since you didn’t ask one of us, but both to help you with your problem.” Next was your right cheek. Hiro gathered your hair in one hand, tugging it back harshly to start fucking your mouth right away, making your saliva drip down from his cock and onto the bedsheets. Your hands desperately clawed themselves into his thighs while Issei still wrecked you from behind.

“You think you can take a third one?” Issei didn’t wait for you to answer his question, before dropping more lube onto your asshole, slowly easing his ring finger into your loosened hole. His other hand pushed the vibrating dick in your vagina even deeper and you had never felt as full as you did at that moment. The cry that you let out around Hiro’s dick showed them that you were close to coming, so, in a matter of seconds, everything was gone.

“No! Please, please let me cum!” Tears streamed down your face and if your mascara wasn’t already be rolling down your face due to the seamen shower you took earlier it certainly would now.

“Aww, you’re looking so cute all desperate and shit. Completely wrecked but still crying for more.” Hiro took your face in one hand, squishing your cheeks together in the process.

Issei resumed his actions at your backside, this time not entering you with this finger, but another object. Another dildo you presumed. It wasn’t really that thick, so it was comfortable to have in you, but it was long. And when it started vibrating, every ounce of strength left your body, hands falling down onto the mattress, face only being held up by Hiro’s hand.

“Do you want to fuck her, or should I go?” The way they talked so casually about your body, like it was only another fucktoy, like the multiple ones they had lying around, made arousal shoot to your core, electing a desperate whimper from your lips.

“You can go, I don’t mind having her mouth. Besides, we have tomorrow and Sunday, too. I mean unless our little princess still hasn’t had enough?” Hiro’s voice was teasing, his fingers around your chin tilting your head up to make you look into his eyes.

“How desperate are you for our cocks, huh?”

“Please, please. I want it, I want your cocks, please, Issei, Hiro.” You were just babbling, hoping that it would be enough for them to finally fuck you.

You couldn’t believe that this encounter started off so soft, with them carefully massaging you, when they were now slapping your ass with each movement, spitting on you and talking to you like you were a slut.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Such a desperate princess. Well, since it’s still kind of your first time, we will give you what you want. But just know that it won’t come as easy the next times.” With that Issei finally rammed his cock into your waiting pussy and you cried out his name in pleasure, being rewarded by a harsh slap on your ass in an instant. Hiro shoved his cock back into your mouth, taking up a harsh pace immediately, slapping your hands down as soon as you wanted to take a hold of his thighs again.

“No hands.” He told you and you desperately tried to keep your head up for him to fuck your mouth all while Issei started moving the vibrator in your ass in the same rhythm he fucked into you.

It didn’t take long for you to come, the continuous stimulation with the thought of being used in every possible hole being enough for you. But they weren’t done.

Their pace didn’t slow down a bit, Hiro only going back to holding your face up for him. You could see in his eyes that he was not happy at all with your failure and you were sure you would encounter punishment for that soon enough. He spat down on your face again, spit mixing with the tears from your eyes, as his dick repeatedly hit the back of your throat.

“Fucking hell, your pussy is swallowing me whole, feels so good, come on, princess, just a bit more.”

Issei was groaning behind you, thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. Still, Hiro was the one finishing first, releasing on your face for the second time that night.

Once he let go of your head you immediately fell down onto the mattress, still being fucked harshly by Issei, who kept on moving the dildo in your ass. You felt another high approaching and apparently, they did too, since Issei started slamming into you even harsher. But when Hiro moved to rub your clit, you were screaming their names, body twitching, and hands clawing into the bedsheet.

You were sure you never came so hard in your life. Everything went numb for a second, but you realized what was going on, when the dildo got pulled out of your ass, leaving an empty feeling behind.

“You alright there, princess?” A soft hand weaved itself into your hair, turning your head to look at the two men who just showed you heaven on earth. You hadn’t even realized that Issei came as well, but the feeling of something dribbling out of your vagina was explained that way.

“You look so good, princess.” Hiro leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, fingers pushing a bit of his come into your mouth right after he detached himself. “Let’s take another bath, you seem to need it even more than before.”

Their hands were all over you, softly caressing every inch of your body, cleaning every last drop of spit, come and lube. “You looked so beautiful, all wrecked beneath us. And you did so well, too! I honestly didn’t expect you to take us this well on the first day.”

They were muttering continuous praises, making you feel all soft on the inside.

“Pizza is here!” You were nearly nodding off in Issei’s arms, blinking slowly as the words were whispered in your ear.

Hiro was missing from your other side, apparently retrieving said pizza, which the boys insisted on ordering, especially after you admitted to not having consumed any solid foods that day, to be extra clean for them.

Soon Hiro came crawling back into his bed, handing each of you their respective pizza. Sitting up, you felt a shoot of pain from your butt and winced. “Sore?” The grin on Hiro’s face was entirely too wide to be sorry. Stupid piece of shit.

If someone would look at you now, three friends sitting on a bed and eating pizza, while a stupid reality show played in the background, nobody would even think twice about it. Nobody would expect, that just a bit earlier, in the other bedroom across the hall, you were absolutely wrecked by them.

But you wouldn’t want it any other way, excitement already bubbling up in your stomach with anticipation for the days to come.

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hauntedsongtaco · 3 years ago

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Suptober Day 9: Body Mods

tbh I had no idea for this one, so, sorry it sucks a bit.

Dean woke up with the eery feeling of being watched. No, not watched. Studied. A few years ago, he would’ve jumped out of bed with a gun in hand, ready to fight whatever managed to sneak up on him. Luckily, he’d gotten used to being stared at and it had been a long time since Castiel had felt knife at his throat. Now, he just muttered a “Damn, Cas, get a hobby” before he turned his head in the angel’s direction.

Castiel was lying on his side, head supported by his hand, and pierced Dean with his look. He didn’t respond to Dean’s comment and indicated no interest in leading a conversation, he just continued to stare at Dean’s face with an unreadable expression. The hunter might have gotten used to this kind of behaviour, but he had just woken up and Dean just wasn’t a morning person at best of times. So, after a few silent seconds he huffed and turned his bleary eyes back to the ceiling, hoping that, if no morning sex, he would at least get a couple more hours of sleep. He shuffled around a bit, trying to find a comfortable position, and was just starting to drift off again, when Castiel decided to speak.

“I never knew you had a pierced ear.”

Cas must have been awake for a while, because he was way past his gravely morning voice which send a tiny wave of disappointment through Dean. A second later he scolded himself for being stupid. He’d have many more mornings to enjoy that deep rumbly voice. Right now, Cas was apparently interested in Dean’s shameful past.

“Yeah, well, ‘m glad you missed that embarrassing phase of my youth”, he chuckled and turned onto his side to look at his partner.

“Why?”, Cas tilted his head and did his signature squint at Dean.

“I imagine you looked rather dashing with jewellery.”

The blunt compliments were something Dean had yet to get used to and he cleared his throat when he felt a blush creep up his cheeks.

“Eh. I always thought t’was a bit much in retrospect.”

Castiel was still studying Dean’s face like a math problem he couldn’t solve.

“You trying to imagine me with earrings?”, he lifted an eyebrow in question and Castiel nodded without breaking the stare.

“I might have a picture of it around here somewhere, if you’re interested.”

Internally he wanted to slap himself. There was no need to go down memory lane on a random Wednesday morning, but his tired brain had decided that he could dig this hole of shame a little bit deeper. The excited smile on Castiel’s face was worth the humiliation, though, and with a tired chuckle Dean pushed himself up and off the mattress.

“I can’t promise you anything, though. Didn’t exactly have the time for family albums and stuff.”

He got on his knees and rummaged under the bed until he found a small box covered in dust. When he straightened himself up again, Dean was face to face with Castiel, who must have moved to the edge of the bed, and had a curious look on his face.

“Hi”, Dean said sheepishly.

“Hello.”

Cas smiled at him for a second, before he grabbed the box from Dean’s hands and shamelessly fumbled through the set of pictures in it. A whole bunch of them showed a tiny Sam, maybe three years old, playing baseball with Dean in the park. Cas found that a bit uncharacteristic of John until he found a picture of the same day with Dean, Sam and Bobby, the children grinning wide, with flushed faces and dirty clothes while Bobby wore his usual grumpy face. Then there was one of Mary in an old band shirt with baby Sam and Dean on her lap and another one of John painting a crib on a sunny afternoon. He almost looked like an ordinary and loving father. As peaceful as it looked, it had something unsettling about it and Cas quickly slipped it back to the end of the stack. Sam and Dean got older, their faces lost their innocent softness. It seemed like Dean was the one who did most of the photographing from the angle the selfies were taken. The brothers in the bag of the Impala eating cheeseburgers, Sam in front of a school with an annoyed expression on his face, Dean on the roof of a building at sundown. And there was one taken from Sam. This was the one Cas was looking for. He held it up and inspected it with big eyes. It showed Dean in his old leather jacket, leaning on the hood of the Impala and looking off to the right at something that wasn’t shown in the picture. He was so young, twenty at most, his hair was styled with more thought than Castiel could ever imagine Dean would put in now. It wasn’t a close-up picture of Dean, only his legs were cut off by the frame, but the angel could still make out the earrings Dean wore. Three silver hoops, the first one thicker than the others, with a cross dangling from it, and two helix piercings connected by a small, black rod. It didn’t look as trashy as Dean let come across. In fact, Castiel thought it made him look very handsome.

He looked at Dean, who had sat down on the bed next to him, with marvelling eyes. Dean had his eyes fixed on the picture and smiled softly as he plucked it from Castiel’s hands to take a better look.

“Man, how I’ve aged. Look at this handsome little fucker, thinking he can charm his way through life with a smirk and a wink”, he mumbled.

“I see nothing has changed”, Cas answered and earned a soft laugh.

“No, I s’pose not.”

Suddenly Dean felt fingers ghosting over his ear and he wiggled it out of reflex.

“I didn’t know you could do that either.”

Cas poked his ear again and Dean continued to wiggle to his partner’s amusement.

“Do you think you would want to pierce them again?”, Castiel asked, still poking.

“Nah, I’m too old for that junk”, he sighed and took the angel’s hand to plant a kiss on it.

“C’mon now, I need a coffee. You want eggs or pancakes?”, he asked as he got up and shuffled to the door.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t eat, yeah yeah. Just wanted to be polite. You should really try my pancakes though, I do this thing with the egg whites where-“, Dean rambled as he walked away to the kitchen, not bothering to wait for Castiel, who just shook his head and got up and pulled Deans sweater over his head. Before he followed him to the kitchen, he took the picture of Dean and pinned it on the wall at his side of the bed.

#suptober21 #fic #deancas #supernatural #deanwinchtser #castiel

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your-1up-girl · 3 years ago

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Okay but imagine Shouto having an uncharacteristic fascination with you. Someone who has already turned down half the boys in the class and, oddly enough, never allow anyone to get too attached to you. He noticed how you distanced yourself from your friends in the general studies class. Never being mean to them but at the same time, keeping them at arm's length to ensure that they just knew you as the classmate in gen Ed.

Like I said, he was uncharacteristically fascinated with you. And keeping with this OOC theme, he decides to get to know you. He would ask you all kinds of questions and do his damnedest to know just who you were. It's the night he shows up to you dorm past curfew and takes you up to the roof to talk some more and watch the stars that you finally level with him.

My quirk is slowly killing me and I don't know when I will just... Because I am having real sad boi hours right now.

You explained to him that it was rare for people to have a quirk that is harmful to themselves especially in this degree.

One out of 200,000 and I just happen to be that one.

After hearing this, Todoroki finally understands why you never let people close. It wasn't because you didn't like them, the opposite really. If they got too close, then they would be hurt in the end when you suddenly disappeared. Only a handful of people knew. All Might, Aizawa, Recovery Girl, Principal Nezu, and now him.

After you left the roof, Shouto made it his goal in life to make sure that you experienced everything you could out of life. It was a win win because there were so many things he'd never experienced so you both would be living together.

Tbh has to ask the class for advice on fun things to do but leaves out the detail of your quirk

So over the past year You and Shouto have been inseparable; only parting ways when need be. He's taken you to theme parks, movies, you've taken the trains to different parts of Japan. All the while he made you forget that you had something that was slowly taking you away.

Throughout all this you were scared however. Shouto had told you about his childhood and how it was not the best to put it lightly. You could see it in his eyes, the attentiveness they had, how his touches would linger, his heartbeat would quicken when you hugged, the dilation in his eye whenever he saw you.

He loved you. And to make matters worse, you loved him. This was another reason you didn't want to get attached. The heart was such a fragile thing. And Shouto had already been through so much. You didn't want to do this to him. You figured you needed to end this.

One morning, when it was so early the sun wasn't up and the birds not yet singing. Shouto showed up to you house to go for a drive during the summer break. He took Endeavor's and you both went down to the beach.

The pile of rocks seemed to beckon you both as you sat there staring out at the horizon with the crisp air and sounds of crashing waves taking over your senses. He wanted to take you to see the sunset where he heard it was most beautiful by some classmates. It was sweet and it made your heat break

Hey can I-

Do you mind if-

You both laughed as he scooted closer to you and started again.

"Sorry Y/C, but I just wanted to say that. Even though we have only gotten to know each other within the year, I feel at home with you." Your heart beats faster at his words. You knew where this was going but you kept your focus on the slowly rising sun. "The time I've spent with you was amazing."

He rested his hand on yours causing you to jump and now look into his beautiful eyes. The wind and crashing of wave spraying tiny droplets onto his swaying hair.

"Y/C, I truly lov-"

"DON'T!" Your hands flew to his mouth, you hated to ruin the moment but this all felt wrong. "Please-Please don't say it." Tears formed at the corner of your eyes. You removed your hands, "This-this is exactly why I didn't want to get close to anyone. I lead you one Shouto. This can't happen between us you know that right?"

He was dumbfounded and you were nearly crying. "You were going to say that you loved me, right? You love me when you know that I can't stay with you Shouto. I didn't want to do this to you. And you know what, I love you too." You sniffed and tried to calm yourself not bothering to look at him. "But it doesn't matter for me, right?" A bitter laugh escaped your lips, "You know maybe, I was wrong; I-I jumped the gun. Maybe you were just gonna say something about how great of a friend I am or whatever. Living in limbo is just my life at this point. Don't say that you love me Shouto. I don't think my heart can take it."

A beat passed. The waves against the rocks the only melody to fill the silence. Were you actually wrong? Was this made up in your head? Did you-

You suddenly felt your head out not of your accord and a pair of lips on your. It wasn't a soft kiss. No. This was desperate, pleading. Todoroki kissed you as if he was the one thing that would make this curse within you finally leave. He held you so close against him and let his hands glide against your back and grip your hips with reckless abandon. And you kissed back with the same amount of passion. Meeting his movements with equal fervor. Letting him know that despite what you said, my wanted him just as much.

When the kids broke, both parties were breathless and foreheads met as small pants escaped.

"W-why?" Even if it was whispered, with a slight doleful tone, deep down you were happy. You even had a smile on your face.

Todoroki chuckled, "Because you told me not to say it, so I decided to show you."

Your eyes opened to him and he gazed right back at you, "I meant what I said Y/C, I want to keep spending time with you. As much as you have to offer and as much as the universe is willing to give."

Sorry this was supposed to be short😞 also no read more button because I wrote this in bed and idk if we can add that on mobile, please don't hate me😞😞😞

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peachy-beomie · 4 years ago

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Fellas, is it Gay to Kiss The Homies? <TEN-CENTRIC>

Genre: Light Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Kunten (Qian Kun x Ten Lee) and implied (Ten x Everyone) [ALL SHIPS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PLATONIC]

Word Count: 1455

Warnings: Fluff overdose, might give you diabetes /t

Synopsis: Ten just really likes kisses and he wants to give them to his friends. That’s it.

A/N: I wrote this wanting it to be Platonic!Kunten but tbh it may have gotten away from me a little bit so believe what you want ig

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30021543

Ten has always been overly affectionate. In the eyes of Weishennies, Winwin and Yangyang bear the brunt of it. On variety shows and lives Ten can sometimes be found floating around one of his two didis or entirely attached to them. It’s become a joke among fans and members, the way Ten calls Yangyang baby while the maknae responds with countless protests and whines. But something fans are unaware of is that off-camera, the Thai male’s affection extends to all the members. Ten is known to demand touches from most any friend in reach. Even Kun, despite the pairs’ constant bickering. The WayV members have grown used to Ten’s insatiable need to hold and be held. There’s a silent understanding between the 7 roommates. All the boys know that comforting Ten is just more of a physical thing. Each member understands, and some have even become fond of the actions. Most surprisingly Winwin. Though he seems like a total skinship anti, he’s all smiles whenever Ten envelopes him in a hug.

For the endless love and acceptance of his bandmates, Ten feels so incredibly blessed. But even in such a wonderful situation, there are things Ten can’t have. And lines he dare not cross.

To Ten, there’s nothing inherently romantic or sexual about his lingering touches. To him, spooning with his friends is his way of showing platonic affection. Obviously some things are reserved for romantic/sexual partners: making out and things of the like. But the lines between friendship and partnership are far thinner to him than most. He hasn’t told his friends about his affinity for kisses, having only recently come to terms with it himself. All through his life he’s had these fleeting urges to kiss his friends, and he’d always passed them off as intrusive thoughts. But lately, these urges have become more persistent. When his members are especially kind to him, he feels his attention float briefly to their lips, wishing to give them a small peck. It’s always a peck. A forehead kiss, eskimo, cheek, knuckle, nose; always something innocent. A mere grazing of lips to skin. No matter how innocent the intent or the action, Ten can’t help but feel completely and utterly ashamed.

Friends aren’t supposed to want to kiss each other, he chides to himself. The dancer already feels like enough of a bother asking to cuddle and hold hands, he fears that by taking the extra step, he’ll lose all 6 of them entirely. So he pushes these feelings deep down, and continues on, hoping the others don’t notice his worry.

Unfortunately for Ten, Kun prides himself on being in tune with his members’ emotions. Kun first realizes something is wrong during one of the group’s rare off days. He and Ten had opted to stay home, the younger practically BEGGING him to continue watching Doctor Who with him. The two eldest boys have been watching it together for a couple months, and have already plowed through 2 seasons (that’s quite impressive considering how packed their schedules are). Since it’s nearly impossible to refuse Ten anything, Kun finds himself lazing the day away on the couch, carding his fingers through the soft brown locks strewn across his lap.

“Fuck. Everything,” Ten says after they finish the season 2 finale. “Whoever made this episode is a monster.”

Kun giggles, leaning down to wipe stray tears from Ten’s cheeks. “You knew it had to end eventually Tennie.”

“YEAH BUT THAT WAS SO M E A N!” Ten removes his head from Kun’s lap as the older laughs harder. “It’s not funny!” The Thai man pouts, only eliciting more laughter.

“Aw you poor thing,” Kun teases, pushing himself off the couch and holding a expectant hand out to the pouting brunette. “C’mon you big baby. Let me make you something to cheer you up.”

Never one to turn down free food, Ten trudges to the kitchen and sits down at the table while his ge gets to work. Ten watches Kun work for 15 minutes before turning to the table and placing a bowl of noodles in front of Ten. The younger looks up at the singer then, an almost indecipherable look on his face. In those few seconds of silence, Kun sees hesitation in Ten’s eyes, an uncharacteristic moment of pause. It’s like Ten wants to do something but he’s restraining himself. Then all too quickly, the look is gone. Ten thanks Kun for the meal before scarfing it down.

Kun doesn’t bring it up then, or when he sees the same look directed at Hendery the next night while they’re playing Monopoly. He waits a week before finally confronting the boy, having seen the same hesitant gaze 5 or more times by now.

He decided to confront him after their biweekly Just Dance tournament. Kun and Ten were on a team together and kicking everyone else’s asses. After winning their 4th consecutive battle they’d hugged victoriously. When they pulled back, Ten had “the look” written all over his face. And without warning, he pecked Kun on the nose.

Oh.

Ten stood straight in horror, he didn’t even give Kun a chance to say anything before bolting out of the room. The 5 other members followed him with eyes full of worry and concern. They’re only semi-placated with Kun’s promise of “I’ll talk to him.”

Kun opened the door to Ten and Hendery’s shared room to see Ten facing the wall dejectedly, curled tightly into his blankets. The older made sure he moved softly and quietly, not wanting to spook the boy. He sat himself on the bed across from Ten’s huddled figure, not missing the other boy’s flinch. Kun lays down behind the boy, wrapping his arms around his middle.

“I’m not mad Yongqin, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kun uses Ten’s Mandarin name, knowing the younger loves the way it rolls off his tongue. “I just want to understand, ok?” The older rubs soothing circles on Ten’s arm with his finger.

“I’m sorry,” Ten whispers, almost imperceptibly quiet.

“Qinqin I told you there’s nothing to be s--”

“No but I am sorry,” Ten says, turning himself in Kun’s hold to face the older, but still not making eye contact. “I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I could tell it was bothering you.” Kun says, raising the eyebrow of the dancer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kun confirms. “So do you have a crush on me?”

“Not at all,” Ten says honestly. He fiddles with his fingers between their parallel chests rather than meet Kun’s gaze. “I just… hhh I don’t know how to begin to explain it.”

“Take your time.” Kun assures which Ten is exceedingly grateful for. Kun has always been patient and level-headed that way.

“It’s kinda like… you know how you hug your friends? To show them you care about them?” Kun nods easily. “Well, for me… kissing is kinda equivalent to a hug with a friend. It’s just...my way of showing affection I guess,” Kun nods again, taking in every word Ten says. “It became apparent a few months ago. But I didn’t want to bother you guys with it, so I kept quiet. And I know it’s weird and it’s really no big deal if you don’t want to I can--”

“Ten.”

“Yeah, It’s too much isn’t it? Can we just pretend this never happened? I’m really sor--”

“Ten.”

“Look Kun don’t worry about it. It’s really fine. I just want to--”

“Yongqin.”

Ten finally ceases his baseless ranting. Kun rubs up and down the boy’s upper arms.

“Ten it’s fine. I never said I disliked it. If platonic kisses are something you want… something you need,” Kun smiles lightly. “Then I don’t see a problem with that.”

This time Ten actually does look Kun in the eye, cat-like eyes wide with disbelief. “What?”

“Just explain to me what you need Yongqin,” Kun whispers understandingly, and for some reason it makes Ten blush a little. “I’m all ears.”

Ten was left completely dumbfounded. He had just proposed something… crazy.... and yet Kun isn’t running. He doesn’t seem weirded out, or scared, or disgusted. He’s still there.

“U-um…” Ten starts. “Just… small ones, I guess. Like cheek, nose, knuckles, forehead, hair, that kind of stuff,” Kun processes all this again. “A-and pecks on the lips are nice sometimes… i-if that’s not too much.”

Kun shakes his head and smiles, “Sounds good to me!” And to punctuate it, he places a small kiss on Ten’s forehead, setting the boy’s cheeks aflame once more.

“T-Thanks,” He says genuinely.

“Of course Tenten,” The older contemplates giving him another kiss for assurance, but he decides that he shouldn’t overwhelm Ten too much just yet. “Anything for you.”

KUNTEN PIC OF THE DAY:

I call this one: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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ateezingbabies · 4 years ago

Text

Revenge [Choi San x f!Reader]

tw - angst, smut (oral (f and m receiving), overstimulation, unprotected sex, spanking, choking (f recieving), degradation, revenge sex), cheating, uncharacteristic san tbh, overuse of the term baby, mentions of blood (no actual blood), a little plot

Words 3.1k

I do NOT condone any of the actions in this fanfiction and nor do I think that these would be actions made from Ateez' San.

You were sure that revenge has never tasted so sweet.

With San eagerly lapping at your release underneath you and you vigorously sucking on his cock, the both of you knew that there was going to be regret and heartbreak in the morning. The deep plum marks on each other’s bodies’ only added fuel to the fire. The red hot jealousy spikes through San when he hears a door open, recollecting the sight that he had seen last week.

San wasn’t quite sure when it began, when his girlfriend of three years started to have eyes for someone else. That someone else being your boyfriend of five years. Somehow a drunken mistake turned into a repeating one when sober and the hidden moans turned into longing glances and lingering touches and hushed whispers of “Soon” and “I love you.”

San was returning from practice earlier than usual and was met by a sight that he had never expected to see, his blood turning ice cold when he watches your boyfriend kissing his girlfriend’s neck over the marks that he left the previous night. Face paling and a sudden wave nausea runs over him when he turns around and starts running to the direction of your apartment. Repeatedly ringing your doorbell as heaves and chokes over his cries, you open the door and immediately bring him into a hug. Salty tears drop onto your neck and your heart drops when he tells you the events that he saw in front of his front door.

At first you didn’t want to believe it, you wanted to laugh in his face and tell him there was no way that you boyfriend was cheating on you. Once the first wave of denial finishes washing over you and San repeating the story like a mantra, rage fills you. Wanting to tear every photo and break every gift he has given you. The two of you sit there crying and consoling the other a plan works itself out. One that left pleasurable flames licking at the base of your spine.

After a double date to a cute café, you left the table under the guise that you needed to use the restroom whilst San went to go get the food from the counter. The two of you shared a knowing glance as San paid for the food, watching his girlfriend kiss your boyfriend’s cheek as you watched your boyfriend mouth, “I love you,” to San’s girlfriend. Eyes steeling as you make your way into the cramped bathroom, you bite your lip as you now have to pretend that everything is fine.

Flash forward after a few days of glancing at lewd text messages being sent, San and you settled on a date to ‘surprise’ your lovers. Taking a sick day from your work and San had already had the day off to take his soon to be ex-girlfriend on a surprise date, the two of you shared awkward kisses at first before San took the liberty to get a bottle liquor to share a few shots.

With the liquid courage pulsating in your veins the awkward kisses soon turned hot and steamy as the smacking of lips caused pleasured sighs to leave your mouth. San pulled his mouth away from your lips as all thoughts of guilt and regret flew out the window when you rolled your hips on his growing erection. Moaning out your name when you repeat the action you pull him back to your mouth to meet for a searing kiss. His hands kneading your ass forcing your back to arch.

In a sudden rush of heat, you pull off your shirt and fling it somewhere in the living room, San quickly uses this opportunity to suck temporary reminders of these events on to the top of your breasts. Annoyed with the lacy bra you were adorning, he unhooks it with clumsy fingers and pulls it off to set it next to him on the sofa. Bending down to make his face level with your breasts he sucks on a nipple, tugging on it with his teeth while his hand tweaks and kneads the other. Another whine rips from your lips at the harsh actions left on your sensitive breasts. San looks up to your pleasured face with a cocky grin. “Does that feel good, baby?”

Nodding your head as another whine bubbles out of you, San pulls away from your heaving chest, “Use your words,” a teasing lilt is found in his tone as he smiles at your blissed out state.

Fingers threading through his hair, as you moan out, “Yes, San. It feels so good.”

Content with your response, he kisses you again leading you to his bed. After spreading you out, San slips out of his shirt so quick you almost worried that it burned him. Settling in between your legs and burying his head back into your neck, he grabs one of your legs and hikes it to his waist. Lost in the headiness of lust you immediately start grinding your clothed core on his. Throwing your head back because it wasn’t enough. Noticing your frustration, San struggles removing your jeans and underwear in one go and discards them next to the bed before removing his own.

Your eyes raked down San’s body appreciating his chiseled torso, and you almost laughed that his girlfriend cheated on someone who looks like he was chiseled by Michelangelo. Not realizing you said your thoughts out loud San looms over you with mirth swirling in his gaze, “Michelangelo, huh?” He leans down to whisper in your ear as a blush rises to your cheeks, “I’m glad you think I look that good, dollface.” Grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head, San kissed, licked, and sucked along the expanse of your body before stopping at your wet slit. “Oh baby,” he tuts, “When was the last time you were fucked?” Furrowing your brows at the question you ponder when was the last time you were pleasured beyond your own hand. However, to San, you spent too long thinking about the question and to get you out of your head he slapped the top part of your thigh. Yelping at the sensation, it sent another round of heat to the base of your spine.

“I asked you a question and I expect you to answer it, baby,” San growls out barely tracing your clit that you wondered if he actually touched it. “Three.. Two-”

“I-I don’t know!” You yelp before San could enact on a punishment, “Maybe six months ago? He always said that he wasn’t in the mood.” San shakes his head at your answer, feeling sympathy run through his head.

Placing more pressure on your clit, he slowly rubs small circles on the little bud. You bite your lip at the sensation trying your hardest not to buck your hips. He looks up at your face, notices the inhibition in your eyes, “Let go for me, sweetheart, I want you to feel good. Don’t be scared of the pleasure.” Glancing at San and see his eagerness in his face almost makes you wonder if he had hidden feelings for you at a period in time. Taking a deep breath and resting your head on his pillow you close your eyes and focus on San’s fingers working his way to your opening and barely breaching inside to gather some of your wetness before spreading it onto your clit where his slow moments started to become faster. Even though he was not your boyfriend you will admit that he knows what he is doing. Slowly gyrating your hips on his fingers, San smiles as you lose yourself to the pleasure he is providing you. Deciding that he was teasing you enough, he takes one of his fingers and slips it into you. Biting his lip by how tight and wet you are, he pumps his finger in and out of you as you arch your back. Keeping an eye on your writhing form San slips in another finger and you hiss at the forgotten stretch. Scissoring his fingers in deeper, your eyes roll back into your skull as he presses against the spot that blinds you with pleasure. Mewling and scrunching your eyes shut at the sensation you barely hear San chuckle wanting to get the same reaction out of you again. “You like that, baby?” San teases as he angles his hand to make sure that he hits that spot every time he flutters his fingers.

Feeling the white hot pleasure wash over you become oblivious to the world only to be jolted back into the present as San kitten licks your clit. Combing your hands through his hair you whine out as he pushes you closer to your orgasm. San moans against your clit as you tug on his roots and thrust your cunt into his face. Stuttering out his name as he increases the speed of his fingers inside of you and it is too much for you to handle and you can feel yourself releasing onto his fingers. You relax for a split second to catch your breath however it is taken away from you again as San does not stop his ministrations.

Broken whines and breathless moans leave your lips as San continues to roughly lick your clit, one sounds akin to a soft no as he removes his fingers from your sopping core. But before you can focus too much on the loss of the stretching sensation, San pulls you closer to his mouth alternating between licking your clit and thrusting the wet organ into your cunt. Your back arches once more as another orgasm forces itself out of you.

San pulls himself away from your heat and wipes his hand across his lips, “You taste so sweet,” he climbs on top of you with hands on either side of your head and a thigh in between your legs. “Want a taste, baby?” Before you can answer his lips are on yours and you cannot help but agree. Wrapping your hands his neck again as his tongue swipes against your lower lip and when you refuse to let his tongue in your mouth, he growls and bites you lower lip what seemed as hard enough to draw blood. Yelping at the pain, San forces his tongue into your mouth causing you to moan. San’s hands start to wander again, gripping your skin in his hands. Tears gathering in your eyes at how rough he was being but still tugging him closer in order to forget the thoughts of your previous lover.

When San feels a small drop of liquid smear against his cheek, he pulls away from the kiss and stares at you with a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “Hey, what’s wrong Y/N?” San cups your cheek eyes soft as he brushes away the tear with his thumb, “Am I being too rough?”

Shaking your head at his question, “N-no, it’s perfect- er.. You’re doing perfect. I’m fine.” You start to ramble as a few more tears trail down your cheeks. Seeing your emotional turmoil San lays next you and pulls you into his arms. Resting his lips on the top of your head, he gently rubs his hand up and down your back to console you. “I just can’t believe that they did this to us. Did I do something wrong? Was I not enough?” You snuggle closer to San as your tears fall onto his chest.

The frown on San’s face deepens as he starts to feel guilty for coercing you into this. Brushing your hair away from your face, “Hey, we can stop. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.” Shaking your head once again, you pull him back on top of you.“No, no. L-let's finish this. Just be slow,” you snivel and stutter, voice trailing off, “please.” San’s eyes soften as he brings his fully erected cock to the outside of your slit.

Tensing for the inevitable stretch, your facial expression morphs into one of confusion as it never comes. San’s eyes are wide while he looks at you, “Do you want me to use protection?” A deep maroon blush forms on your cheeks as you realize the gravity of the question. Biting your lip, you tell him no, and that the two of you should get them back where it hurts.

Bracing yourself once again, San slowly sheaths himself into you. Hissing at the stretch, and when you fully expect him to be bottomed out, he keeps going. Once he finally settles into you, tears prick your eyes again because you feel so full. Unable to help yourself, you clench around him and shudder at the gravelly groan that he emits. “Baby,” San’s voice is tight as he tries to warn you of the consequences if you keep clenching around him.

Smirking and deciding to push your limits, you clench around him again. As San positions himself into a more comfortable pose, he puffs out his chest to make himself seem larger. “I thought you told me that you want to take it slow?” His hand trails up your chest, and lightly grasps your throat, “So why are you acting like a little whore?” Feeling a burst of pleasure and shame flicker up your spine up onto the surface of your cheeks; you debate if this is what you really want. When San sees the shimmer of playfulness in your eyes and before you can answer his question his hand tightens around your throat and thrusts into you hard enough to make the wooden bed frame slam against sthe wall with a solid boom.

Eyes rolling into the back of your head you had half the mind to make a witty response but then San thrusts into you again and your mind a white haze. A smirk seems to be permanently carved into his face as he angles his hips to make sure he really hits the right spot and you are truly rendered speechless. Seeing the blissed out expression on your face he feels his ego grow, “Does the baby like being treated like a slut?” Even though you can see his lips moving you cannot hear anything above the rushing in your ears. Letting out a drawn out whine, San’s smirk turns into a dimply smile that seems too innocent in comparison to the way that he is wrecking your body. He lets out a mocking giggle as he comments, “I’ve already fucked you dumb, and I barely even started.” Back arching at the degradation it feels like your head is in a whirlwind at the swirling of emotions inside of you. Part of you is loving San’s harsh treatment towards your body and the other part of you feels guilty that you are not being the bigger person.

Lost in your head, you let out mindless moans as you grip and scratch the skin on San’s back. However, San is not much different. Part of him is hating that he is cheating on his girlfriend that he loved, and still loves. But he just can’t stop. A little voice is in the back of his head wondering if this is how his girlfriend felt when she first had an affair on him with your boyfriend. That little voice in the back is soon crushed by the powerful jaws of lust when you clench on him so tightly he can barely move. Feeling a weak wet stream on his abdomen, his focus shifts to the small stream of liquid that drips down onto the bed sheets. His gaze shifts back up to you. Face flushed and hair strewn across your face he cannot help but think that you're beautiful.

Voice hoarse from the moaning and using the little air left in your lungs, “Did you cum yet?” San refocuses his attention to his aching cock. Letting out a small no, you push him onto to his back and shimmy down the bed to lower your mouth on his painful erection. Hands immediately on the back of your neck as San forces your head down so he can be buried in your throat. Whimpering at the sensation soon turns to be an immediate regret as you gag and immediately pull your head away to cough. But San stops you before you can, pushing you back down whilst moaning and bucking his hips. Your hands clench the bed sheets for a split second and you slap his thigh to let you up.

Releasing his hands away from your neck you pull off his cock to violently cough and gag. In an attempt to calm you down, San combs his hands through your hair. Once you’ve stopped coughing and spit falls from your heaving mouth. San glances up at the clock and knows within a few moments his girlfriend is going to come home soon, and he bites his lip as he comes up with an idea. Yelping as he manhandled you into a position where your face is level with his cock and he has perfect access to your swollen pussy, “Suck,” was San’s only demand. Grabbing the base of his dick, he moans you press little kisses to his tip. Raising his hand to slap your ass, “That wasn’t part of your instructions, brat.” Gasping at the stinging sensation left behind, you quickly wrap your lips around his tip, tongue swirling around it. A weak moan resonates as San starts licking your slit and your hips shift to get away from the stimulation. Growling as you try to escape from his tongue, San wraps his arms around your waist to prevent you from squirming away.

Whining as San nibbles your clit, you start to bob your head up and down his cock. The sounds from your loud sucking and his lapping are euphonic to San's ears. Lost in your own world you bring your hands to fondle his balls. Bucking his hips, you gag slightly and San swears he could have cum right then and there. Hearing the front door open and multiple feet clamber in and stumble towards the bedroom, he holds himself back just long enough to cum when he hears the two gasps come from the door. Gagging from the sensation of San's cum shooting into the back of your throat, you grind your hips on to San's face as you were pushed over that ledge for the fourth time that afternoon.

And by the way the couple ran from out of the house, the two of you knew that revenge could never be sweeter.

#ateez san #san #ateez choi san #choi san #ateez angst #san angst #choi san angst #ateez smut #san smut #ateez san smut

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euphoria-vmin7 · 4 years ago

Text

tiger flower 02 | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre/warnings: angst, hanahaki! au, non-idol! au, heartbreak, unrequited love, swearing, drinking, sad ending, implied/mentions of death

word count: 4,805

summary: the petals were supposed to be your secret.

rating: pg-15 (swearing and drinking)

– a/n: tiger flower was actually just supposed to be one part. i had no plans of writing a part two BUT since quite a few of you asked for it, I got inspired and wrote this. it turned out longer than i expected tbh. there’s a lot of angst and crying in this but honestly, that was expected with this au lol. i hope you guys like this :)

reposting this cuz i had some technical difficulties oops-

read part 1 here

Jungkook felt an odd mixture of confusion and worry. Normally, he’d be used to you acting crazy and all, but this was different. He watched with concern as you took another lazy swig from the bottle of beer in front of you. Though, the fact that you were drinking wasn’t what was concerning him. It was the way you were acting.

Jungkook had known you for years now. He had been with you on the first night the two of you had ever gotten drunk. And to this day you had always been the same while tipsy: loud, energetic, and giggly. There wasn’t a single time he could name where you had been any different. He couldn’t even count on his fingers how many times he’d have to shush you in between giggles as you shouted random words that seemed to make sense in the middle of the bar. Crazy, loud drunk had defined you for as long as he could remember.

And though sometimes it frustrated him to no end, he found it endearing all the same. In fact, tonight he had been counting on it. He had called you to come out for a drink with him in hopes of feeling a bit more cheerful after watching you get drunk. He needed to get cheered up.

Though, instead, tonight you were different.

You were hunched over and quiet and zoning out too easily. The happy, cheerful, boisterous drunk in you had disappeared and instead been replaced by this. Whatever this was.

He briefly worried that his frown lines would permanently etch themselves to his young face.

Jungkook had been having relationship problems. That had been the sole reason why he had invited you out tonight. Though he and Jieun had only been dating for roughly three and half months, they had fought one too many times already. He loved her, he really did. But the two of them were so different in personality, that when they clashed, it didn’t end up pretty.

Another more selfish reason had drawn him to pulling out his phone and dialing your number that night. He hadn’t seen you in weeks. He had been texting you, calling you, and trying to catch up with you around campus, but every time he was brushed off in a hurried manner. He wondered whether he had done something to piss you off. But then he pushed the thought away because no, you always talked out your disagreements.

Maybe something was bothering you that you couldn’t tell him about. What it was made him frustratingly curious, especially considering that most of the times, you could always tell him about it. He’d understand. He knew you better than anyone, after all.

Or maybe it was just exactly as you said: “Sorry Kook, I’ve been trying to study for finals,”

Even though for the last few years you had always studied with him.

Maybe it was Jungkook himself. He knew that getting into a relationship had significantly reduced the time he had for you. Was he himself being distant? Perhaps you had grown so detached because he hadn’t even put in the effort to keep you close to him.

Whatever the reason was, Jungkook wished it was fixed soon. It was bad enough fighting with the girl he was dating. He didn’t want to feel your absence so deeply, either.

He thought that maybe your behavior in the past few weeks was being reflected in your drinking habits, too. Because now as he watched you gloomily take another chug of beer, he felt as though he was drinking with a different person.

He was tipsy himself, but felt as though he was seeing things much more clearly than usual. There were dark circles under your eyes that were not there before and he realized that you hadn’t once smiled fully since you arrived. You were different.

“(Name),” he nudged your shoulder, a bit surprised at how clear his own voice sounded. Your eyes lethargically moved to settle on him and he felt a bit hurt at the way you moved your body away, as though he had tainted you by the one touch.

“Yes Jungkook?” you drawled.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You snorted and chuckled. “What are you talking about?”

“Well for one you’re not standing on the table trying to imitate Jimin hyung’s dancing like usual, so what the fuck is wrong?”

“Maybe I’m just tired, Jungkook. You ever think of that?” you laughed quietly as you tipped your drink past your lips. Once again, he frowned.

“I guess…” he muttered, deciding not to push you too actively. He hoped the drinks he was paying for would help loosen your tongue. Help you spill your worries to him just as he had done to you a million times before.

“So…” you spoke up after another long gulp. “What’s with the sudden call?”

“We haven’t talked in weeks, Peanut,”

He didn’t notice how the nickname made you cringe.

“So I wanted to see you. Check in, you know?” he asked, looking down at his glass and traced the rim, feeling uncharacteristically shy. “If you were…doing okay,”

You smiled at him ruefully. He was so blissfully unaware of how everything he did made your heart swell and break at the same time.

“Kook,” you muttered, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m seriously fine. I swear, I really had to study for finals and that’s why I haven’t been hanging with you as much. I’m sorry if I worried you,”

Jungkook released a breath, an unknown weight lifting from his chest. “Ah okay. Gotcha,”

You analyzed him for a solid second before leaning back a bit. “But that’s not the only reason you called me out tonight, is it Kook?”

He winced at your uncanny ability to pick his facade apart. “No…” he responded, a miserable tone overtaking his voice. “I just…Jieun and I have been fighting,”

He missed the way your shoulders sagged with utter disappointment. Though you knew deep down that his worry for you was genuine, the fact that he wanted to meet you for help with her stung in more ways than you cared to admit. You would never say that to him though.

Instead you raise your brows in surprise and show interest. “Oh? About what?”

“I’m…not really sure,” he replies, shrugging in defeat. “We just have petty fights. I don’t know where they come from but…they don’t end well at all,”

You hummed thoughtfully, finishing your drink and motioning to the bartender for another. “Did you two, have a conversation recently that ended…badly?”

Jungkook thought back to the previous week when she had casually brought up marriage and winced to himself. He hadn’t thought about the outcome of the conversation since it had happened, but with the way you were looking at him, worry swirling in your hazy eyes, he had the urge to spill.

“She was talking about the future,” he mumbled. “And I guess I couldn’t handle it,”

Your lips made an ‘O’ shape as you took in this piece of information. “What do you mean by ‘couldn’t handle it’?”

“I…” it seemed that despite you being much more drunk than he was, he was the one who was struggling to form words. “I just…couldn’t listen to it. And when I asked her to drop it…”

You hummed once again. “Well, I guess I understand why. You aren’t ready for that yet. But she’s started thinking about it, right?”

“Yeah exactly,” Jungkook nodded. “And like we’ve only been dating for a few months now. I didn’t even consider marriage when I started dating her,”

A stagnant pause took over the conversation and Jungkook quickly wondered whether he had said something unreasonable.

“Jungkook…” you asked quietly. “Do you…see yourself getting married to her in the future?”

He balked at the question, opening his mouth to respond but finding no answer. He stopped to think about it. Did he see a future with Jieun? Sure, he was crazy about her. Heck, he was pretty sure he was in love with her. But a future?

Could he see himself, years down the line, slipping a wedding ring onto her finger? Could he see himself, years down the line, holding their children by the arms and tossing them up to the sky, tiny giggles echoing in his ears?

He hadn’t even realized that he had shut his eyes, but when he had opened them, he saw you staring at him. God, why did you look so drained?

What happened to you?

Instead of posing these questions, Jungkook tried to give you an answer. “I…don’t know. I want to see a future with her. But right now…”

You nodded. You understood. Jungkook was younger than Jieun was. She had already lived through these few years that Jungkook still hadn’t reached. So perhaps he wanted to, just not yet.

“Tell her that then,” you replied with a soft smile.

“Tell her what?” he asked, confusion lacing his tone as he looked at you. You gave him a knowing look.

“Exactly what you feel. That you want to, but not yet,”

Your voice was tired, but not because of the drinks. Something was horribly wrong and Jungkook hated not knowing what it was. More than tired you sounded…broken.

“I…” he trailed off, looking at you with shiny doe eyes. You chuckled, patting him on the shoulder before placing cash on the table.

“Trust me. You guys will get over this. You need to tell her what you’re feeling though. Don’t just drop the conversation, you know?” you grinned. “Good luck, Kookie. I’m rooting for you two,”

You pulled your jacket off the barstool and slipped your arms through the sleeves. There was a pink flush in your cheeks and Jungkook watched the way your dim eyes sparkled with something new.

It wasn’t something good. It looked painful.

“I’m gonna go,” you sighed, pulling your hair out and over your shoulders. Jungkook was standing in a second, gripping your arm quickly, but gently. The touch made you stiffen.

“By yourself?” he frowned. “You’re drunk as hell, Peanut,”

“If you’re asking if I’m driving myself home, then no,” you snorted. “I’ll call a cab,”

“I’ll drive you,”

“Psh, if you think you’re in a place to drive, Kook, you’ve got another thing coming,” you giggled. “Just take a cab or call someone,”

“At least let me walk you there,” he said hurriedly. He slammed some cash down next to yours that roughly covered his expenses. Something was wrong. It was itching at his gut and bothering him to no end that you weren’t sharing your worries with him. You didn’t even remember that he had promised you he’d pay tonight. You opened your mouth to protest but he gave you a stern glare that had you sighing in defeat. You nodded mutely and turned to shakily walk out of the bar which had suddenly become far too loud for you. Your head was pounding as Jungkook’s heavy footsteps echoed in your ears when he hurried after you. He was at your side by the time you stepped out, taking a mouthful of the cold air to quell the familiar dizziness in your head.

You could faintly make out his sweet voice on the phone, calling you a nearby cab and giving the details of your location. You smiled weakly to yourself.

You found it harder than you expected to take proper steps and kicked yourself for drinking so much. Jungkook chuckled at you and felt his heart lift when you turned to smack him. He had the conscience to hold his arm out for you and the two of you walked down the street in relative silence. You mentally thanked Jungkook for letting you walk a bit before getting into a car. The nighttime air was doing wonders for your headache.

Jungkook glanced down at you, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as he struggled to find a way to speak. How was he supposed to ask if you were okay yet again and expect a different answer?

“(Name)…” he asked.

“Hm?”

You weren’t looking at him. Lights shone in your eyes and for a second he believed that they were the ones he knew, but the bright buildings around him quickly diminished his hope.

“Are you okay?”

You grinned. “You’ve been asking me that, Jeon. And I keep telling you I’m fine,”

He watched your gaze travel around the city and he was hit with this unfounded feeling of longing.

I missed you.

“But you’re not fine,” he stressed, feeling frustrated in you and himself. “There’s something else bothering you and you’re not telling me,”

Your shoulders sagged and Jungkook mentally celebrated his victory. “I…” you started. “I promise, Kook. I’m really fine. I’ve just been studying so much and sleeping late…”

You sounded genuine. But he wasn’t sure. He used to be able to tell whether you were lying in a second. What happened?

“And…” you trailed off.

“And?” he urged, leaning closer to you.

“I’ve…been getting sick,”

He frowned at that. He never considered that it would be your health that was causing your avoidances.

“Sick?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I guess it has something to do with all the stress I’ve been putting on myself lately. But I’ve gotten sick a lot in the past few months so…”

He bit his bottom lip in concern. “Are you…feeling better now?”

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath in. “Now…I’m okay,”

“But…?” he asked.

“But it might come back. I don’t know, it’s all really random,”

He rubbed your shoulder softly. “I’m sorry Peanut,” he felt guilty. “I haven’t even been checking up on you,”

“No,” you chuckled. “Not your fault, Kook. I’ve been keeping to myself. I didn’t want you to see me like that,”

The words confused him. You both had stumbled into each other’s houses countless number of times, no matter how sick you both were. The other one had always made chicken soup. It was a norm.

He worried.

“(Name)…”

You turned to look at him. He felt so empty when he looked into your dull eyes.

“Please take care of yourself,”

You grinned a bit and nodded. “I will,”

He barely believed that. Something was wrong. There was something else you were hiding.

You staggered a bit and Jungkook’s grip on your arms tightened. He was about to start scolding you for drinking past your limit but stopped himself. You laughed. The real laugh. Your eyes shut, pink flushed cheeks, and windswept hair, and yet, you looked so unreal. How long had he been away from you? Did you really have such a strong hold on him that in just a few weeks of being away from you, he had forgotten the way you laughed? He felt a surge of disappointment in himself.

“You’re crazy,” he said, shaking his head as a chuckle escaped his lips. “So fucking crazy,”

“Yeah yeah,” you brushed off, slurring a bit. “Which makes me much more entertaining than you are,”

He had it in him to chuckle. He saw the cab pull up and held his hand up to catch the driver’s attention.

“The cab’s across the street. Think you can make it without kissing the road?” he teased and you laughed once again. His heart swelled with pride and relief.

“I’ve got it,”

That was a lie. You paused a bit and blinked quickly, as though trying to get your eyes to focus.

Then you stumbled forward and Jungkook scrambled to hold you against him. Though he wasn’t prepared for the harsh cough to tumble past your lips. You wheezed in pain, clutching at your chest and his heart thudded with worry. The worry disappeared completely when he saw the petals. You hacked into your hands, repetitive coughs that sounded so painful, he felt it in his own chest. They continued to fall, bright orange against your skin. Petals turned into whole flowers.

When the coughs ceased, Jungkook was looking to your palms in shock. His heart shattered when his eyes darted to your face. You refused to look at him, instead staring at your shaking hands with one expression.

Caught.

His breath hitched, and then an influx of emotions filled his chest. Shock, then pity, sadness, and finally anger.

“What the fuck, (Name),” he uttered in a low voice. “What the fuck is this?”

He knew what it was. He knew what it meant. And the only thought running through his mind was killing the person who was causing this.

“It’s…” you started and he missed the way your voice shook.

“Is this what you meant by getting sick?”

“Listen-”

“Just how long have you been hiding this from me?!” he couldn’t control the volume of his voice. “Who is it?”

“Jungkook-”

“Who is it?!”

“Fuck,” you swore, shutting your eyes and gripping your hair. “I can’t,”

He was livid. Red hot anger burned in his throat.

“You’re protecting him?! After you’ve been suffering through all of this?! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

There was no way you actually believed you could keep this from him. You bit your lip to prevent a sob from escaping. You didn’t want it to happen this way.

“Get the surgery,” he ordered lowly and you remained quiet.

“Kook-”

“(NAME)!!” he yelled, holding your shoulders. “GET THE FUCKING SURGERY!!”

“I CAN’T!!” you shouted back, tears falling now. He stepped back a bit, though now he was even angrier.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU WOULD RATHER DIE FOR THIS BITCH THAN GET THE SURGERY-”

“IT’S YOU JUNGKOOK!!”

It took him a second to process what you said. He was so focused on his anger, on your tears, and on how stupid he had been for not seeing this earlier. When he repeated it once more in his head, fear swallowed him whole. His hands dropped as he looked down at you, lips parted, heart racing.

“What?”

“It’s you,” you sniffled noisily. “I’m in love with you. The petals came because you didn’t feel the same,”

What does one say to that? How does one respond to that?

I’m helpless.

For the first time in his life, Jungkook is speechless. He has no response to your words. No response that seems appropriate enough.

“I’m not getting the surgery for this, Jungkook. Anyone else, maybe. But you,” you cleared your throat and wiped your eyes. The dullness in them suddenly made sense, and Jungkook’s throat tightened. “I would never. Goodnight, Kook,”

You turn to cross the street and Jungkook is desperate to chase after you. But an unknown force keeps him rooted to the spot. His legs are heavier than any weights he has ever lifted before. And the image of your back getting further and further away from him paints itself into his mind. Petals fall from the sky and he cries.

Hundreds of texts and plenty of calls were ignored until he couldn’t take it anymore. He had always respected your privacy. He decided he was past that. His knuckles were stinging and he was sure they’d bruise with the force of his knocks. He knew you were in your apartment. There was no way you had left since the cab had dropped you off, as Jungkook arrived only minutes later.

Jungkook made a promise to wait there until you opened the door. And both of you knew exactly how stubborn he was. He was counting on it tonight.

“Open the door, (Name),” his voice was already shaking and he cursed himself. He wanted to be strong. He wanted to force you to think rationally.

His knocks were desperate. He wished you’d just give up and open the door, but he knew you were just as stubborn as he was. Memories of competitions and play fights flashed behind his eyes and his throat tightened. He swallowed thickly and knocked harder.

“What the fuck, Jungkook-”

He himself was surprised at the way you wrenched the door open but he got over it quickly and pushed his way inside. You were still dressed in the clothes you had worn to the bar, but you looked much more tired. He wondered how many more flowers you had coughed up since you left. The thought made him sick.

“Jungkook, please,” you sighed. “I’m tired I just want to-”

“How long?” he asked quietly and you sighed again.

“Kook-”

“How long?” he repeated. He already knew, but he needed to hear it from you.

“Too long,” you answered and he shut his eyes tightly. “Years, Kook,”

“Fuck,” he cursed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What good would it have done?” you turned away to walk to your couch. Memories of the two of you curled up on that couch made him wince.

“It…” he started but he had no answer. You smiled knowingly.

“Exactly. You would’ve just felt guilty for years and we probably wouldn’t have such a great friendship,”

“You should’ve told me,” he repeated, even though he knew you were right. You just shook your head to yourself as he took a seat next to you carefully, as though you’d break right then and there.

“It was my struggle. I have to deal with it,”

He took a shaky breath in, his hands clammy. “Have you told anyone else yet?”

“My parents know,” you sighed before chuckling at the pamphlets littering your center table. “As you can see they’ve been trying to persuade me to get the surgery-”

“And you should!” he shouted, though you barely flinched.

“Jungkook,” you said sternly, turning to face him. “You know what the side effects are, don’t you?”

He remained quiet, though yes, he did know.

“I’ll lose my memories. Of you. Of us. I can’t do that, Kookie,”

“Why not?” he asked, his eyes glazing over as tears pooled at his waterline. “Why can’t you?”

“Because,” you smiled ruefully. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you. I can’t lose that,”

He put his face in his hands and sniffled shakily. He could barely look at you. He hated that you’d given up.

“B-But I do love you,” he tried. His fingers were grasping thin air, but all they were catching were the petals of the tiger flower.

“No, Kookie,” you shook your head. “You know that’s not enough,”

Strong friendship was not enough. His friendship was not enough. He’d never be enough.

“I fell in love with you but you don’t love me in the same way,” you smiled up at him and he felt his heart break. “It’s okay,”

How could you say that? How could you pretend like everything was okay? Nothing is okay about this. He felt so useless. So upset. So angry. So helpless.

I fell in love with you but you don’t love me in the same way.

“No no,” he was crying. “No I do love you. I do,”

You shook your head sadly and he cursed you for being able to smile at him like that. Light he once knew, light that comforted him any time he needed, had completely disappeared from your eyes.

He’s helpless. He needed to do something. Anything, you persuade you. He had to show you.

I love you, I do. I’m enough, I swear. I love you, that’s enough.

When he kissed you, your heart shattered for the final time. You could taste the salt of tears but you weren’t sure whether they came from him or you. One kiss. One final kiss.

You had spent years of your life waiting for this one moment. But yet when it came, you wished it hadn’t. You wanted nothing more than for this moment to be yet another one of your wishful dreams.

Because you and he both knew that it meant nothing. It meant nothing that could save you. He was trying so hard to pull you back to him. To prove that he was being sincere. But whether he was convincing you or himself was lost in the sound of hearts breaking.

He pulled away, hands still holding your face, knowing that once he let go, he’d lose you forever. Your hair tickled his skin like the whispers of childish secrets once did, and he reveled in the feeling. He was sobbing. You had never seen him sob like this before.

“How could you do this to me?” you shut your eyes to avoid looking at him, his crumbling expression brewing yet more guilt inside of you. “How could you let me do this to you?”

“It wasn’t your fault, Kookie,” you chuckled weakly. “It was mine,”

“Stop it,” tears were dripping down his soft cheeks fast as he pushed his forehead against yours. “You’re hurting so much because of me. Stop it,”

What he was telling you to stop, even he didn’t know. A part of him wanted to shout and scream. To scold you for ever having feelings for an idiot like him. Just stop it. Stop loving me, please.

But even he knew it was easier said than done. It had happened. The damage had already been done.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered through cries. “I’m so sorry,”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeated, smiling. He loved that smile, but in that moment, he hated it more than anything. He prayed to the heavens that you would stop pretending like everything was okay. It was not okay. Nothing would ever be okay again.

“Get the surgery,” he pleaded. “Please (Name), get the surgery. I can’t…”

He choked on a sob but you knew what he wanted to say. I can’t lose you.

“Kook,” you mumbled, putting a hand on his cheek. “I never want to forget us,”

He broke then and there, legs going weak and he sobbed. He fell to his knees and cried into his hands. He knew that you had made up your mind. There was nothing he could do to change your mind.

He hated you. God, he hated you more than anything.

He hated the way you bent down to hug him the same way you had been hugging him for years. He hated the way you were the one comforting him when he should’ve been the one holding you. He hated how you were okay. You weren’t supposed to be okay. You were supposed to scream and cry and curse him for breaking your heart like this. You were supposed to hate him. Hate him so that he could feel the pain he had caused you all these years.

He quietly wished that he was the one coughing up petals instead.

Why were you so understanding?

How could you still love him after he had reduced you to this? How could you even bring yourself to hold him when every touch was killing you on the inside?

That’s when he realized that he would never be as good as you. All the playful competitions over the years that he had taken the prize for paled in comparison to this one moment. You won against him, but you lost everything, and his heart ached for you.

You were going. You were leaving him and there was nothing he could do to keep you with him. All his life, Jungkook had despised feeling helpless. But he had never known that it could feel like this. That helplessness could feel like utter destruction. He cursed fate. He cursed the universe. He cursed everything he knew because why? Why did fate have to do this to him, to you? Why did the universe create such a path for people? Why did the people who suffer meet such heartbreaking ends? Why you? Why did you fall for him? Why wouldn’t you let him go? Why you?

His arms felt like lead when they moved to wrap around you, but he held you tighter than he had ever done before. Your body was warm, and images of play fights, spontaneous knocks, and fortresses made of blankets and pillows filled his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking from them. Childish laughter echoed in his ears, melding with sweet whispers, and heartfelt secrets. Somewhere in the distance, something shattered. He felt soft petals brush against his skin. They tickled his subconscious, and he choked on a sob. He opened his eyes and looked down at his arms, cursing the lies and false hope he had tried to give you earlier. He praised you for being able to see through him, just as you had always been able to. He felt bile rise up in his throat as his glossy eyes danced over his own tattoos.

He hated Tiger Flowers.

a/n: i wanted to leave the ending broad like this so you can imagine what happens afterwards!! though i think the options are pretty limited lol. i hope you enjoyed :)

#heartsforbts #btsghostie #btsguild #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #bangtanscenery #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #thebtsficarchive #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts #jungkook #bts angst #jungkook one shot

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