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leiascully · 4 months ago

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Fic: POANG (M, MSR)

4400 words; rated M for a lot of real and imaginary sex; the solve high hits Scully right in the libido and a trip to IKEA doesn't help. happy birthday, @laurencem (ao3)

There’s a novelty to working a case in a city. They’re usually in smaller towns, out on the edges of things where the fields blur into the woods and the monsters wear animal skins. Today’s monster is human, or something that resembles one. Scully doubts sometimes that it’s possible to be so brutal and retain humanity.

They’d been called in on this one on the suspicion of witchcraft. There had been a series of killings: bundles of herbs left at the scene, dead bees scattered about, cedar smoke lingering in the corners of the rooms, corpses ritually disfigured. The perpetrator turned out to be more ecofascist than druid. No caltrops for him, and no nice trip to the woods for her and Mulder. This killer has been cultivating poison plants, including the kind of mushrooms that reduced a person’s liver to a liquid. He raved as they put him in the car, something about the city being a hive and its denizens mere drones. Scully tuned it out.

Case closed by noon and they’re back at the hotel. It’s not a particularly nice one: no restaurant, no pool, no premium channels. They’re close to the airport, far from most of the amenities. The closest landmark is an IKEA looming blue and yellow by the highway. Scully regrets making them drop off the rental car early, but Skinner’s been making noises about expenses again. Frugality and a high solve rate are the better part of valor. There’s a free shuttle to the airport, but their flight isn’t until tomorrow morning.

“Where do you go to eat around here?” Mulder asks the college-age kid at the desk.

The kid shrugs. “IKEA.”

“To eat?” Mulder sounds skeptical. It’s music to Scully’s ears. She settles her hip against the wall and watches him.

“I mean it’s not where I would take a date, but they’ve got food,” the kid says, glancing between them.

Mulder turns to Scully. He lifts an eyebrow.

“IKEA it is,” she says.

It’s a short walk, at least. Scully’s used to the touristy part of DC, which this is decisively not. She’s used to walking next to Mulder in a suit and heels instead of jeans and flats. It feels different. She never feels small, walking next to Mulder. He makes space for her, even when they’re out on their own time, like this. She wonders if that makes it look like they're on a date, when they’re out of uniform.

She wonders, just a little, if they’re on a date.

The automatic door of the IKEA opens invitingly, a wide mouth to swallow them up. Mulder ushers her in, an ironic little twist to his lips that tells her he knows what she’s thinking. The maw of capitalism. An ecosystem where the consumer is the consumed. Clearcut forests shimmering with ancient insects.

Also, meatballs.

The end-of-case adrenaline is starting to hit her. All the emotion she locked down in the moment comes back, rerouted from fear to something more feral. She’s restless. She is, truth be told, a little horny. Some confluence of her cycle and the solve high has her wishing she’d stayed in the hotel room. The bathtub looked clean enough. She could have enjoyed herself. Instead she’s letting Mulder lead her through a labyrinth of simulated lives and enticingly arranged furniture. He stops to mosey into one of the staged spaces and beckons her over.

“Look at this, Scully.” He spreads his arms. He can almost touch both walls of the fake apartment. The grey t-shirt he’s wearing stretches in such an enticing way over his chest and shoulders. She gets a whiff of his deodorant and it makes her toes tingle. There’s something about the scent of artificial woods layered over just a hint of sweat that makes the feral part of her flex its claws. She’s always susceptible to the scent of Mulder, but this is something else. She could duck under his arm and sink her teeth into the bare skin of his bicep.

Some part of her is mortified to think of him in this way. Most days, that part gets the upper hand. Today, it’s been outvoted and overpowered. Want prowls back and forth in her belly. She steps closer.

“Can you imagine living here?” he asks. “Actually, you probably could. It’s about the size of a ship’s cabin.”

“Compact,” she says.

His eyes crinkle as he smiles at her. “Just like you.”

I’d compact you, she wants to say, even though it makes no sense. She wonders if her pupils are dilated as she gazes up at him. She wants to push him up against the wall, but there’s a cabinet in the way. He’d hit his head, and he’s had enough cranial trauma. She’s his doctor. She knows better.

He’s still smiling at her and for a moment, her wild desire recoils, rebuffed by doubt. How would he react if she lunged for him? Does he even think of her that way? There have been hints over the years, but Mulder’s mouth writes checks the rest of him isn’t willing to cash. In his mind, are they just on a nice little outing, two work colleagues grabbing dinner? Was he planning on going back to his hotel room to watch whatever film features a leggy brunette wearing the fewest clothes?

“Kidding,” he says, and she realizes she’s staring at him. “Scully. I’m kidding.”

“Right.” She takes a step back as he lets his arms fall to his sides.

“Are you all right?” He ducks his head. “You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine,” she says automatically.

“I guess it’s been an exciting day.” He meanders out of the fake apartment onto the floor of the store. They seem to be in the seating section. Scully doesn’t need a sofa, and she doesn’t need to look at sofas and imagine on them herself cuddled into Mulder’s side. None of these options are as sexy as his leather couch anyway. Oh god, when did she start thinking his couch was sexy?

Mulder stops by a chair with a light wood frame. “POANG,” he reads off the tag. It’s got white cushions and a sort of modern look. “Oh hey, it’s a rocking chair.” He tips it with one finger and it obligingly rocks. “Maybe you need one of these for your living room.”

Scully is possessed by a vivid image of the chair as it might look in her living room. Mulder is sitting in it, jeans yanked open and shirt rucked up, and she’s straddling his lap and riding him until the runners squeak under them. The motion of the chair accentuates the motion of her hips and her tits swing until he captures them in his big warm hands and and and…

“Maybe,” she says. “But Mulder, we have an IKEA closer to home.”

He drops onto one of the sofas and stretches out. He’s obnoxiously long. His shirt rides up, revealing a wedge of golden skin. “You’d probably rather have something vintage anyway. You’ve got champagne tastes, Scully. You like your creature comforts.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” She crosses her arms.

“No.” His lip twitches in amusement. “Although I have to say, if I had your bed, I’d never get out of it.”

Please, she thinks, fervent as a prayer. “Is that why it took you so long to stop sleeping on the couch? Your inherent slothfulness?”

“What can I say.” He brushes his hand over his stomach, smoothing his shirt down. She bites her lip and looks away. “I’m a man of many vices.” His voice is low, almost a purr.

It’s exactly this kind of fucking behavior that feeds the poor confused wild thing inside her. Does he know that? She knows him better than anyone else in her life and she has never been able to decide if it’s real, not even the time they almost kissed. Her need for him gobbles up every scrap of plausibly deniable flirtation, simultaneously satiated and starving.

She looks away from him. The next section is more innocuous - lots of cute little baskets and boxes. “I thought you were hungry.” She can’t imagine a magazine holder stoking her libido.

“Right,” he says, rolling off the couch. “Date night.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s lunchtime.”

“Who knows how long it’ll take us to get to the restaurant?” He shades his eyes with his hand, as if he’s peering over some dim horizon. “This place is engineered for maximum distraction. Think of all the lives we could live between here and there, Scully.”

She manages to haul him through the living room storage without too many detours, although she does have a wistful moment over another one of the staged living spaces, imagining the two of them sharing an apartment. She shoves the thought away. They spend so much time together she should be sick of him. She should fantasize about freedom, or solitude, or meeting a handsome stranger in a tiki bar on a tropical beach. But even when she loathes Mulder, she longs for him. Even the way he examines a Billy bookshelf gives her a rush of fond familiarity at the way he devotes his whole attention to it.

“Should we get you a desk?” he teases as they enter the next section.

Only if you’ll fuck me on it, she doesn’t say. Instead, she rolls her eyes and marches toward the shortcut, knowing he’s drifting in her wake. They skip the kitchen section, which is good; she doesn’t have to imagine herself with her hands braced on a countertop as Mulder presses against her from behind, one hand palming her tits and three fingers of the other inside her. They proceed through dining. In her head, she’s definitely not bent over this table as he takes her from behind, or sitting on that one as he has her for dinner, his lips moving eagerly over her thighs.

There’s something wrong with her. The heat deep in her belly keeps building. It’s Mulder’s damn grace and the way he smells and the fit of his jeans and the way the t-shirt strains when his arm flexes. It’s been too goddamn long since she had sex - years, and that was the once, and years before that - and something has awoken inside her, stirred out of sleep by the moon or the tides or who knows what the fuck. She’d go out on a limb for ancient prophecy at this point. That’s how primal her desire feels. It’s wild inside her, barely contained. And it’s so fucking stupid to feel all of this in the middle of an IKEA - a sanitized, flatpack world of sexless confused caricatures and beds that look too flimsy to fuck in.

Beds. So many beds. Acres of beds. And they do look flimsy, but she imagines fucking in them anyway. That one has a slatted headboard she could attach restraints too. That one has storage drawers for her collection of sex toys and Mulder’s collection of dirty magazines. She’d fuck him in a trundle bed at this point. Hell, she’d fuck him on the floor and let security drag them out and shove them into the cop car still coupled together, because there’s no way she’d let him go.

She somehow makes it through beds.

“You must be hungry,” he says at her shoulder. “Or else you took up competitive speedwalking.”

“That continental breakfast was a long time ago,” she says without looking back. She doesn’t need to look. She can sense him: his heat, his bulk. She could reach out for him and know exactly what she’d touch. That’s the problem with her fantasies. She knows him too intimately.

The wardrobe section doesn’t trouble her much, aside from a brief vision of dragging him into a small dark space and having her way with him. She doesn’t even flinch when they get to the children’s section, or at least not outwardly. Her eyes are on the prize and for once, it’s not Mulder’s ass. It’s the IKEA bistro at long last.

They dine. Mulder has meatballs. Scully has the salmon. The meatballs look suspiciously pale to her, but Mulder assures her they’re delicious. He holds out his fork for her, won’t take no for an answer. She relents and he feeds her a fragment of meatball dipped in the sharp sweetness of lingonberry jam. It’s better than she expected. She eats her salmon and wonders at her impulse toward the ascetic. Mulder is supposed to be the one who’s chosen a lonely, constrained life, but she’s the one denying herself mashed potatoes and a potential heaping helping of Mulder. If his flirting means anything, and that’s the if of her life at this point.

She sighs and puts her fork down on her plate. Mulder eats the last bite of her salmon, but only when it becomes clear she isn’t going to eat it. He smiles at her and her heart and her loins both throb. Fuck, she loves him so much.

They escape the IKEA without any further purchases. Fortunately, most of the rest of the store is small goods and packaged furniture, so the only thing to tempt her is the occasional surface that looks firm enough to support them both.

“Call me when you want dinner,” Mulder says when they get back to the hotel. She locks herself into her room and scans her notes on the case. She waits five minutes, fifteen, an hour. There’s no knock on her door. She starts to run a bath. Her whole body feels congested. She knows it’s not possible to die from metaphorical blue balls, unless it is and she’s about to be in the X-Files again. She wants him so much she feels like a teenager again. If they’d grown up together, he would have been her first kiss. She knows that. Four years would have made a difference until it didn’t. She would have waited for him to finally, finally see her.

She’s waiting for that now.

There’s a full length mirror near her door and she stands in front of it. There’s nothing wrong with her, surely. She’s not as buxom as some, not as curvy as others, but he’s dragged his eyes up and down her body a hundred thousand times. She’d know what that meant from anyone else. With Mulder, who knows? It could be sacred geometry. He could be comparing her to the women in the tapes he stashes under his tv. Maybe she’s just in his line of sight and he’s thinking about something else, sinusoidal curves or what inhabits the bleak depths of space, and it only looks like interest.

She squeezes her breasts, thumbs her nipples. Her own hands aren’t what she wants, but they’re familiar. She slides her palms over her body as the water thunders into the bathtub. If she closes her eyes as she tugs off her t-shirt and unbuttons her jeans, she can imagine it’s him. Fire follows her fingertips as she draws a topographical map of her body with his phantom hands. She’s down to her bra and panties when someone raps on the door.

“Just a minute,” she calls, and turns off the water. She peers through the peephole, wrapping a towel around herself. It’s Mulder. Of fucking course, it’s Mulder, interrupting her at exactly the moment she would want him to, so that he can tell her about fairy rings or the exciting properties of silicon instead of fucking her through the hotel bed.

She lets him in, rolling her eyes at herself.

“I went back to the IKEA,” he says. “In the vein of the heroes of old. I conquered the extremely domestic wilds of the main floor and I may have ordered you a POANG chair to be delivered. Also, I brought cake.” He puts two plastic boxes on her dresser. “But I didn’t know if you’d want chocolate or strawberry.”

“Why?”

“Why? We solved the case, Scully. I think a little celebration is in order. Or why the chair? I thought it would look good in your living room. I don’t have the space for one.” He looks her up and down all too briefly. What a gentleman. “Are you busy? I can come back later.”

“I’m not busy,” she says, just to see if he’ll accept it. For two people so passionately devoted to the truth, they lie to each other all the time. Maybe it’s plausible that she frequently sits around her room en déshabillé and he’s just missed it every time.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” He produces two forks. “Although I guess we can share.”

“Mulder, does it look like I want cake right now?”

He does the slow pan up and down her body this time. Heat rushes up her body, a sudden blaze that stokes the furnace in her belly to a roaring flame. She can feel the flush in her cheeks and down her chest.

“I admit, you don’t seemed dressed to dine,” he says at last.

She opens her hand, a gesture that invites him to follow his thoughts to their logical conclusion and leave.

“The cake was a ruse,” he says abruptly, ignoring her hint. “I wanted to check on you. You seemed a little off earlier.”

“Off?” She sits on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, maybe frustrated or angry.” He drags the standard-issue chair over, sits with his knees almost brushing hers. “I wanted to make sure you were all right. It was a weird case.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” she says.

He stares at her. There’s a long, long moment, during which she thinks about kissing him. She can’t stop looking at his mouth. As if he senses her gaze, he licks his lips. “Okay.”

“Okay what?” she asks, still half-mesmerized.

He taps her knee with one finger. “You said you were fine. Okay. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.” He gets up.

“What?” she says, flummoxed by his sudden pivot. “Mulder, the cake.”

“You can have it,” he says. He tosses the forks on the dresser by the cake. “Eat it in good health. I’ll be back later.”

“Where are you going?” she asks.

He paces back and forth. “I don’t know. It kind of feels like you don’t want me here.”

She opens and closes her mouth. “First of all, I’m in a state of undress.”

“I don’t care about that, Scully.”

“You don’t care?” She stands up. “What if I care?”

He makes a dismissive gesture. “I’ve seen you undressed, you’ve seen me undressed, it doesn’t have to be weird.”

“It doesn’t.” Her voice is flat with disbelief. “It doesn’t have to be weird.”

He shrugs. “Not unless you want it to be weird.”

“Fine.” She’s fed the fuck up. It’s been a long, weird, fairly excruciating day. She drops the towel.

This time Mulder really looks at her. She can feel the way his eyes drag over her skin, stopping to caress each rounded nipple, dipping toward the elastic of her panties.

“Not weird at all,” he says, but his voice is hoarse. He shifts, which makes the bulge of his erection more noticeable. Fuck it, Scully thinks. You don’t get to the moon if you never fire the rockets. She feels drunk. Mulder’s full attention has always been 100 proof.

“I wanted to fuck you in the POANG chair,” she says conversationally.

“Yeah.” He shifts again. “I wanted that too. Maybe that’s why I bought you one.”

“The way it rocks,” she says, and shivers a little, which makes him shiver too.

“I wanted to play house in those little apartments,” he tells her. “You and me, falling asleep watching tv, but in the same place for once. You and me, sharing a bed.”

“Yeah,” she says.

“Is that why you seemed mad?”

She nods. “Also I was hungry.”

“Where else did you want to fuck me?” he asks, stepping closer. His eyes have gone dark green. His pupils are wide.

“Everywhere,” she tells him.

“Wanna start with this bed and see how far we get?” His hands settle on her hips, so lightly, as if he’s afraid she’ll pull away. Instead, she drags his head down, breathes against his lips for a moment, and then kisses him.

The universe implodes. That’s what it feels like, anyway. But even if it were the end of all things, she couldn’t stop herself. He smells like pine and musk and his neck tastes like salt and she’s kissing him everywhere, everywhere. He lifts her and she wraps her legs around his waist and he has one arm around her waist and one hand under her ass and his fingers are stroking the outside of her thigh and she thinks if he’s not inside her in the next minute, she’ll just die.

He laughs and she realizes she said that out loud.

“I think so too,” he says. But he’s still dressed, he’s still wearing all his goddamn clothes, and she tugs at his shirt until he takes the hint and drags it over his head. She lets go and works on the button of his jeans. His jeans and his boxers come off together when they shove at them, and then he’s less dressed than she is. He kicks off his shoes and the tangle of denim and silk and she undoes her bra because she trusts his competence, but also she doesn’t. Need has made them so, so foolish.

“I want to,” he says, and swallows the rest of his sentence, but he hooks his thumbs into her panties and she lies back and lifts her hips. He skims the fabric down her legs. There’s hunger in his eyes. She lets him look, dropping her knees wide. He swallows hard and crawls up the bed to lie next to her.

“I wanted this to last,” he tells her.

“Me too,” she says. “I thought it would be different.” The light in his eyes dims slightly. He starts to turn his face away and she presses her palm to his cheek and turns it back. “Mulder, no. I wouldn’t change anything about this.”

“You sure?”

For answer, she kisses him, throwing her leg over his hip. Maybe it’s not what she expected. But she’s had years of self-denial, and she’s finished with that. There will be opportunities later for endless foreplay (as if every interaction since their handshake in the basement hasn’t been foreplay) and romance and slow indulgence, but she doesn’t have the patience for that. She’s already reaching for him, already wrapping her hand around his hand around his cock so they work together to guide him in. It’s such a relief that she almost cries, even though she aches as she stretches to accommodate him. And then he’s moving in her and it’s the rhythm of the universe, the pulse of existence. They’re not being safe and she doesn’t fucking care. He’s inside her, he’s touching her, he’s kissing her, and she’s wrapped around him like she can fuse their bodies together.

Every texture of him is a revelation: the hot satiny skin of his cock, the sleekness of his belly, the light fur on his chest. She knows them all and yet. And yet. It’s so different now. She feels the slickness of his lips and the rough friction of his tongue in her mouth and on her skin. It’s everything. Finally, she’s filled up, satisfied, satiated, maybe for the first time in her life. She wants more, oh God, she wants more of him. She wants to live under his ribs like that conjoined twin. She wants her bones jumbled with his. She wants him to fill her every way he can think of. She wants to buy a whole new range of sex toys and treat him just right. But for now, this is enough.

“More,” she says, and he pushes her onto her back without sliding out of her. She spreads her legs wider. He pins her, lacing his fingers into hers and stretching their arms over her head. His hips jolt as he shoves into her, harder and deeper, and she arches up to meet him. Every cell of her body feels like it’s filled with sparks of pleasure; she could map her nerves for him if she still had the power of speech. But he understands her incoherent cries. He always understands her.

She’s whimpering under him, helpless in the throes of her pleasure. The tingling starts in her extremities and washes through her, a tide rising higher and higher. She can feel his muscles tensing. His stomach is trembling. He’s holding back, wanting her to come first. One day, she thinks, she’ll indulge him, urge him to think of himself, but not tonight. She squeezes around him, taunting him. He groans and looks at her. She smirks at him and he growls in his throat. Now it’s a challenge: he has to make her come first, not just wish for it. He doesn’t let go of her, but drags their joined hands down her body. He rubs their fingers against her clit, tight circles that have her gasping. And then she’s coming, her body bucking under his, and he makes her ride it out before he’ll let go.

“Please,” she says, and he thrusts into her shivering body and she wraps her legs around him and holds him so tight as he buries his face in her shoulder and yells. He tries to roll off her right away but she won’t let go. She wants his weight, all of it, and after a moment he surrenders and lets her take it.

“We’re definitely going to fuck in that chair,” she whispers in his ear after a while.

He laughs into the curve of her neck. “We’re definitely going to fuck a lot of places.”

She kisses his ear and he turns his face so that his lips meet hers. “Making up for lost time.”

He shakes his head slowly, eyes sparkling. “We haven’t lost anything,” he says. “We’ll make our own time.”

For some reason, her eyes prickle with tears. She kisses him again, threads her hands through his hair. She believes him. Maybe they have a future full of flatpack furniture and charming antiques and lazy mornings in bed. Maybe they can celebrate all their cases like this.

“Let them eat cake,” she says, and he laughs again and holds her close.

#leiascully fic #my fic #msr fic #xfiles fic #the x-files fic

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chiakixn · 2 years ago

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✩ a/n: =⁠_⁠=⁉️⁉️ NOT FINISHED!!!.... PLEASE STOP READING THIS ONG

word count ﹕miliard

— cw; nsfw, semi public, modern school au, enemies to lovers,

— CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT. PROCEED ON YOUR OWN.

✧ top!SCARAMOUCHE x fem!reader

you still have no idea how you ended being fucked by scaramouche in detention room. you were wondering if it was reality or one of your naughty dreams whilst his fingers were playing with your breasts and his cock was filling your hole.

but how did it happen? you didn't like him at all. scaramouche and you were two different worlds — you were part of the school council and one of the nicest students in your college while he was one of those who always were in detention.

it all started when it was your turn to stay with students who ended in detention. you despised this idea of staying late in school because someone broke its rules. it wasnt something impresing when you saw tartaglia, sighnora and scaramouche already sitting in a small room but this time it was only one of them. and among all of them he was one that you hated the most ─ scaramouche. he was really annoying you.

you sat at the teacher's desk and started scrolling through social media on your phone. suddenly scaramouche spoke.

< you're really not interested where sighnora and childe are? > he smirked while looking at you.

< would you mind repeating? i didn't care enough to hear what were you saying > you raised your eyebow but didn't bother looking at him.

< aw, how cute! our dear y/n is deaf now! what are we going to do? > he tried to make you focus on him but you certainly didn't care. Instead of repeating yourself or talking back to him you kept silent and started scrolling through your phone yet again. The room was full of silence now. you were pretty happy with yourself after making him shut his mouth.

the silence didn't last for long. after a while scaramouche hungry for attention decided to start talking again.

< i don't think you're that stupid to think that they shouldn't be here today. > you raised your head just to see his cocky smile.

< why can't you just wait for the end of the detention? it's not that hard. > he made you mad again.

< i hate when you are talking. > you continued. scaramouches small smile faded. instead, he was laughing now.

< hm? you didn't tell me to keep my mouth shut.> you couldn't last his laugh either. he made your blood boil.

< what's so funny about it? stop laughing. > you knew that he won't stop talking, but you tried your best to make him silent. scaramouche rose from his seat.

< only if you ask for it. > you couldn't take him seriously, but his words made your cheeks red. scaramouche was getting nearer and closer. your eyes following a young man who was moving towards you. his hands reached out to the teacher's desk behind where you were sitting.

< or maybe you don't want me to shut up, huh? > he finally got your attention after all those unsuccessful attempts. one of his hands moved towards your shoulder which was covered with a jacket made from silk fabric.

< don't you think that's kind of pathetic? > his smile getting even bigger than before. he was so confident in front of you. it felt like he was treating you like a worm or some kind of insect which couldn't stand against a someone like him.

< not only you're acting like you despise me but also after i stand in front of you can't formulate one complete sentence. you're so desperate for me, aren't you? > your mind was full of his voice, it felt like he was brainwashing you, moreover, it made your heart beat faster. you were claiming that you hated him, but now? you were falling for him even more with every second of his presence.

< i-im not > a faint colour rises to your cheeks. you were trying to hide it, but your desperate efforts weren't enough for him not to see the giant red blush on face of yours. it made you embarrassed, because how pathetic it would be to admit that you could possibly like him a bit

< you're not? really? because i can say something different from just seeing your face, being so cute, so down for me > scaramouche being playful wasn't something new for you, in fact he was doing it almost every time he interacted with you.

< quit talking like this to me. > you dared to open your mouth, but it was meaningless because scaramouche pulled it towards his own lips leaving a small amount of space between you and him making you panic instantly. you also lied. you wanted him to degrade you endlessly while he's making you feel good.

< look at me. > you couldn't resist his commands, but only mindlessly following his orders. making eye contact with him made you melt. you once again tried to say something, but your lips touched him causing a kiss. and it wasn't scaramouche who kissed you, but you - when you didn't notice you slightly slipped towards him. you weren't going to lie that you didn't enjoy kissing him.

after a few seconds, you moved against him. you found yourself unable to look at him in the eye, not to mention even daring to raise tour voice, because you were scared. scared that he would say things that you didn't want to hear. scared that he would leave you.

< how is that? you're kissing me now? after all these promises that you could never like me? that's so comic, don't you think? > his eyes track lower until he sees your naked neck. he immediately started placing small kisses which made you whine. you thought he was going to go further, but he was holding from his actions, waiting for your answer.

< i... maybe do like you after all. > you confessed to him. scaramouche smirked at your words once again, because who wouldn't? miserable little whore you were for him thinking he could want you. the feeling of scaramouche's hot breath on your bare skin was making you wet. he returned to kissing and sucking your neck again to leave marks.

he began taking off your jacket which was followed by undoing buttons on your shirt. he could already see your bra through a half-transparent shirt. everything was happening too fast for you to proceed. he kissed you on your lips, sliding his tongue in and exploring your mouth like crazy. your thoughts about tasting him were getting out of hand. your bra looked like it was asking for taking it off, so scarmouche did. it felt like he was listening to all of your desperate fantasies, all thing that you wanted him to do, all thing you wanted to hear and feel. your boobs were begging him to suck on them, touch them, lick them and much more.

he had never hesistated before taking any actions, just like this time, he knew that you wanted all of this - every single thing that he was going to do to you. you are making him feel powerful and that's why he decided to fuck the living shit out of you. he wanted to see you begging him for more, crying for him to stop, screaming his name out loud so everyone would know that who's making you feel so good and how you're not that innocent as everyone thought you are.

< you're such a dirty little slut. if you want me to do something to such a helpless, weak body then beg for it > he whispered right into your ear. that's what you wanted to hear from him. going back was not included right now. his hands were resting on your hips, awaiting for your answer.

< please... just touch me already > you said it as quietly as you could. you were embarrassed from asking him for such a thing. your hands wrapped around his torso and you hid your head in a small gap between both of you.

< say it once again loud and clear then i'll consider it > he slid his fingers under your short skirt, his thumb circling on your clothed cunt.

< can you please touch my body > you asked him once again. you hoped that this made him happy and to your surprise it did. he

#scaramouche smut #scaramouche #scara x y/n #genshin scara #scaranation #genshin smut #genshin impact

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goldenblu · 10 months ago

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hold your fire (by the throat) - chapter 4

One Piece | Zosan | Post-Wano AU where Sanji slowly loses his emotions

Chapter 4: the devil that you forgot

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “Putting away the groceries,” Zoro says, like it’s obvious. Sanji is going to break his nose. “Why?”

Preview:

The next morning, Robin comes with him to buy groceries after breakfast. To take a look at what’s on sale, she says, but Sanji chooses to believe it’s because she’s irresistibly drawn to his charm and good looks. And who is he to say no to an outing with a heavenly angel?

When they arrive at the open air market, there’s not too much of a crowd, probably because it’s only an hour past dawn. He made sure to cook breakfast earlier than usual today because he wanted to get the fuck off the ship as soon as possible after baring his insides to the shitty mosshead of all people yesterday. It means that the late-risers won’t be getting freshly made food, but he can take the blow to his pride as a chef this one time.

As he stews over this, Robin passes him a pouch of berry. “This is from Nami. It should be more than enough, according to her.”

“Ah, Nami-san’s so generous! I won’t spend a penny more than I need to,” Sanji promises. He withdraws the shopping list he drew up last night after taking inventory. “Spices first, I think.”

Though he knows it’s seen as a chore to some of the others, grocery shopping is one of his favorite parts of visiting new places. With all the wildly different climates and cultures of each island on the Grand Line, it’s a perfect way to discover new flavors and ingredients that he hasn’t come across before. As someone who’s constantly looking for new ways to expand his repertoire of dishes, he couldn’t ask for a better opportunity.

Flitting from stall to stall, he samples various spices and marinades and produce, crossing off items on his list as he goes. He also finally learns that the island is called Quarry Island, apparently named for the nearby quarry which supplies the mineral ore that makes up their main export. He doesn’t particularly care about the details, he’s just thankful for the way it distracts him from brooding over yesterday’s discovery.

He hadn’t slept well last night, tossing and turning and thinking about what it could mean for him. Because the mosshead could be right that it’s nothing, but he could also be wrong. The little sleep that Sanji had managed hadn’t been restful at all, full of strange half-forgotten dreams, and he’d woken up feeling like shit, with a deep sense of foreboding that he couldn’t shake off.

Now, in the daylight, Sanji refuses to let himself dwell on it too long, or else he’s going to start screaming and never stop. He focuses on the food instead. This island seems to lean towards West Blue cuisine, he notices, with a prevalence of fragrant herb-infused sauces and hearty root vegetables, the kinds that pair well with shellfish. Makes sense, he supposes, given the abundance of crustaceans in the bay.

There’s a booth selling fried crickets that he steers clear of. Even though he’s usually open to trying all sorts of new foods no matter how weird or gross, insects are the one thing he’d really rather not eat if he doesn’t have to. He suppresses a shudder, feeling the phantom sensation of things crawling over his neck, his cheeks, his eyes, cruel laughter echoing through the suffocating weight of a mask on his head.

Abort. Abort. Think about something else.

He’s determinedly examining some regional mushrooms—and wondering if he could cook it in a way that even Usopp would like—when a disembodied mouth sprouts in front of him. Robin’s voice says, “Sanji, could you come over here? To your left.”

(continue on AO3)

#one piece #zosan #sanzo #sanji #zoro #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #emotionless sanji au #hold your fire by the throat #mine #my writing

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rainwaterapothecary · 6 months ago

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A certain insecticidal flower...

#serennedyprideweek prompt 6 - Flowers

It was usually insects that struck cold terror through the scientist this deep under Valdelobos, in a maze of darkness carved by greed and the lust for power.

There definitely should not be fresh, bright orange flower petals scattered around the damp corners.

Nasturtium wasn’t even native to Spain, the researchers had had to cultivate it by hand and any remaining stalks had been burned to ash when the lab went up in smoke.

The Spaniard’s hand shook as he knelt to pick up the delicate thing, yanking his fingers back when they touched something wet and sticky. It was too thick to be nectar or sap from such a small bloom…

His fingers were covered in blood.

“Leon!” He cried out, quickly getting to his feet and bolting towards where he left the agent.

“What?” Leon coughed around the forearm he was covering his mouth with. Luis’ face fell.

“Oh hermoso, is the cough getting worse?” The hand he reached out to touch the agent with was knocked away, earning Luis a vicious glower.

“Yeah- but it’s- Fine.”

Luis narrowed his eyes and traced the black ink flowing up the other man’s veins. He shouldn’t be coughing non-stop like this, not unless his parasite is showing different symptoms…He shook his head fiercely to banish the researcher in him. Not now Luis, he admonished.

“But Sancho I think we have a bit of a problem.”

Leon glowered again, his mouth still hidden by one arm.

“What?” God he sounded terrible.

“I…may be hallucinating a certain insecticidal flower that is endemic to South America.” He raised his hands helplessly.

“Insecticidal?”

“Sí señor, it’s about this big and bright orange. We used it during testing of the plagas.” He held out a couple fingers to illustrate.

Leon began hacking again.

Díos they just couldn’t catch a damn break, could they?

*-*-* A/N AWWWWW YEAHHHH HANAHAKI AU BA-BY Nasturtiums are small, bright yellow/red/orange flowers that are insecticidal and symbolize 'the courage to fight for one's beliefs' and 'victory through struggle'. If that doesn't fit Luis like a glove then idk what to tell u

Short one today, we get Leon's POV tomorrow! Part 2 [here]! Reminder that all of my prideweek writings will be crossposted on my ao3 on day 8 :heart:

#serennedyprideweek #my writings #ok to rb

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago

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Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

--------------------------

Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

--------------------------

“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #stayed up to write this #totes worth it

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irememberitasfromadream · 2 years ago

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THE BLOSSOMING BEELZEBUB - DIR EN GREY

A soft scent still lingers Scorched words Are stuck in my ears and just about everything… So I made up my mind The clouds I don’t see today either have slain the full moon At the table, I’m always alone Spoon and fork lined up, Napkin hung from my neck In a white plate, already completely cooled, Soup

With my heart beating in silence, from the neighbouring house I hear Faint noises

Abandoning myself to lethargy, I sprawl on the floor The world I see sideways is unexpectedly new And I extend towards the ground

For the first time I became one Today I want to fall asleep like this

When will this stirring grain of rice grow wings?

Twisting my hands backwards, I feel around Why is it that I can’t fly? I’m searching for myself Can’t anyone tell me anything? Why? Why?

You who are increasing in scatters…

I find a silver knife I’ve been searching for beneath the sofa, Once again sit on the chair, and bring meat to my mouth Stuffing my mouth with rice that’s supposed to taste good, I search for wings

_________ First–Beelzebub is most popularly crowned with the title “Lord of the Flies”, sometimes even depicted as a big hellish fly. Depending on which legend and belief, he is also considered one of the Seven Princes of Hell, the Devil, or even Lucifer; he is associated with gluttony, pride, false gods/beliefs. In any case, wherever he appears he seems to be the demon/god/whatever of inciting people to things that they don’t necessarily want to do.

This song is very simple, language-wise. You have someone confined to their house, always alone. Someone who seems very aware of their surroundings, but in a detached and methodical way (note that he doesn’t see the sky on that day either, but knows there is a full moon hidden by the clouds which would suggest he keeps note of weather/outside world even if he doesn’t participate). The way he talks about food is really detached, yet when he’s not in that “mood” anymore, when he’s on the ground, it seems his divided personality connects into one. For the first time, he gets a motivation, a wish for improvement. Now, if you’ve ever felt detachment, depersonalization, manic depression, or any mental struggle that caused you to feel a disconnect between yourself and reality, or see yourself as not a complete person, then you might be able to relate to this song without explanation. I kind of…don’t want to write my entire interpretation because this is what I see in it from my point of view, with my own problems. Someone else might see an entirely different thing. Since there are no metaphorical pitfalls here, as I call them, the lyrics themselves are very simple and can be taken by each person as they see fit…

Maybe I should just point to the association of: Beelzebub Lord of the Flies – grain of rice (which can just as well look like a maggot) – searching for wings. Wishing for wings seems like a desire for change, a wish for courage. In “You who are increasing in scatters” I think he’s talking about that part of himself that wants to change, and simultaneously saying that his wish is getting stronger yet that he’s failing at it (so dividing again).

You can look at the juxtaposition of rice/maggot growing wings like this: rice is the most common food in Japan and as such something everyday, essential, and normal. Maggots are nascent insects, so a beginning of something, a being. Therefore, he is searching for a state of himself that is away from regularity. He clearly doesn’t want to conform to what is considered normal yet simultaneously doesn’t have the courage and strength to live as his true self, so he’s floundering, and hiding, and wishing he could.

#dir en grey #kyo #die #toshiya #kaoru #shinya #diru

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chil2de · 4 years ago

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Hi!! if possible can i please request yuuta having a girlfriend that’s his childhood friend? (So like instead of rika it’s y/n and she doesn’t die) that loves to dote on him cause that boy needs some love. Thank you!! <3

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE THIS MADE ME SO SOFT!!!!! ohmygod!!!! growing up with yuuta would be THE best onshdhfsh thank you sososos much anon this was such a pleasure to write! i don’t know why but the “and she doesn’t die” had me screaming LMFAOOOO

enjoy! no warnings, just old fashioned cute fluff and heart wrenching moments! thank you for giving me the opportunity to write for the best boy mwaaah you deserve eternal happiness! hope no insects bite you during these warm months <3

“okkotsu!” you cried out, feminine and shrill voice ringing in the air. the cicadas chirped melodiously, calling out their delightful songs in the spring air.

the young boy staggered around, losing his balance from spinning too fast. his fragile hands reached out, pulling in small grabby motions towards your innocent and joyous face.

you were always so optimistic, even when you were younger. yuuta could only huff and wail as his caretaker hauled him away from the playground, gesturing it was time for him to come home. thick and messy tears spilled out the corners of his eyes which hadn’t yet endured countless sleep devoid nights.

he was so far away, but that was okay because you knew you’d see him the very next day.

“okkotsu! promise to play with me again tomorrow!” you cupped your hands, exclaiming as much as your little lungs could endure. yuuta could see the tears heavy in your gaze, but even then, you prevailed. you grinned, all for him.

ever since the very start. till ‘death do us apart.

“okkotsu! come oooon, don’t cry, okay? (y/n)’s got your back! see, see?! look! they don’t bite!” you braved a smirk on your features, beckoning the shy and introverted young man over. his face looked uncertain and his lips wobbled as though he could crack at any moment. he took a few cautious steps, maintaining his distance between you and the furry animal on the floor.

“r-really? it won’t bite?” he coughed, reaching his unstable fingertips out.

“eh?! that’s the first time you’ve spoken to me! your voice is so nice! it’s so cool! hey! can i hear it again? pleaaaase? i know you’re shy but i’d really like to hear it! hey, okkotsu, say my name? pretty please?”

“um- i, uh.. it’s okay.. you can call me yuuta.”

“yuuta! you’re going to be late for your first day of junior high! i totally told you to wake up on time too!” you stood with your hands rested firmly on your hips, face stern and tone impatient.

“sorry! sorry- it’s um, my hair. i don’t know how to style it.” he admitted, albeit sheepishly by trailing the last few words off into a murmur. you only gave him a sigh before kneeling down behind him, propping yourself up to take a look at his hair in the reflection of the mirror.

“how on earth are you so tall already? we eat the same food, you know. slouch over a little.” you pinched his cheeks before glossing over his hair.

when you ran your fingertips through his hair, you felt butterflies and anxiety rock your stomach.

that’s never been there before.

you’ve touched yuuta countless times, whether that was accidentally hitting him, holding his hand to cross the street…

so why was it different?

you could feel yuuta’s body tense up and run rigid underneath your touch.

that definitely wasn’t there before.

“relax. it’s me.” you cooed quietly, roughing up his hair into different styles.

“like this? looks like you just woke up, sorta, but i think it’s cute.”

yuuta’s heart rate skyrocketed through the roof and his breath hitched.

“cute?” he reiterated, chewing out the phrase like he’d never heard it before in his life.

“hm? yeah-“

you caught his gaze in the mirror, eyes half lidded and attention averted. the tips of his ears were tainted a deep red with small flicks of blush painting his cheeks.

“eh?! nononono- not like that i’m- i just think it suits you, you know? oh, crap, would you look at the time? okay we gotta go and leave!” you clambered out of his bedroom, thudding the door shut behind you.

yuuta only gawked at you with bewilderment, lips slightly parted and fingertips outstretched in his failed attempt to stop you.

he turned to himself in the mirror, studying his features before running one hand through his jet black locks.

“cute, huh?” he muttered, avoiding his own judgemental gaze.

the bittersweet part about growing up with a childhood friend is change.

for all the time that you’d spent with yuuta, you didn’t realise that your relationship with him was something to not take for granted.

especially with those around you who would kill for what you two have.

you’d always get mundane questions from high school girls who thought they could have a shot with him, “what’s his type?” “do you think he likes me?”

meanwhile you only played along with their charades, laughing inwardly when he was actually extremely introverted.

“so? what’s the deal with you and okkotsu-san? you guys dating?”

“no. we’re just friends.”

“seriously? you guys are always glued at the hip. you know he has a picture of you in his locker, right?”

“yeah? so do i. it doesn’t mean anything.”

“it’s kind of a shame, he’s such a nice young man.. gone to waste like that..”

“what’s gone to waste?” yuuta inquired with an indifferent tone, plopping down beside you with his bento box. the classmate sat opposite you only gave him a phony cheerful temperament, twirling her index finger around her hair.

“oh! okkotsu-senpai! we were just talking about you! how was your da-“

“please leave.”

you could only gape at him in your peripherals, sputtering on your sandwich as you watched the life drain from your classmate at his monotony. yuuta didn’t spare you or the girl a glance as he worked to unpack his lunch, hell the guy even murmured a small itadakimasu as if nothing happened.

“wh- okkotsu senpai?”

“listen.” he let out a deep sigh before proceeding.

“whatever shot you thought you had with me? it’s gone out the window. don’t disrespect (y/n) in front of me like that again.”

“you’re making us uncomfortable, so get up and go.” he motioned with his chopsticks, giving her a dead gaze towards another table.

the girl scoffed, mouth hung wide open as she picked up her bag and stormed out of sight.

whilst your face was as blank as a stone, internally, you were only screaming in the depths of piping hot hell visible from the sun itself.

baby girl? that was when you noticed how fucking fine of a man yuuta grew up to be.

“that was seriously nerve wracking.. my stomach hurts so bad right now” yuuta coughed through a bite of his sandwich, refusing to meet your gaze.

you slapped his back, because, holy shit??? awe painted your face like you just witnessed your own child talking or walking for the first time.

“what the shit? yuuta? are you kidding?”

“oh, huh? did i overdo it or something?“

“no?! are you kidding? that was fucking awesome! i swear! this is why i love you-“

oh.

uh oh.

oh no.

yuuta let out a shrill squeak unbeknownst to any human being able to produce such a volume. it was a cross between a floorboard creaking, a mouse sniffing and him choking on his food. the poor boy had to excuse himself to the bathroom, hacking and sniffling in an ugly fit of coughs from the food that got caught in his windpipe.

your blood rushed to your head, veins lit ablaze, bones rattling as you could hear the chatter pound and drill into your skull, scoring you deep and down into your bones.

“did she just say she loves him?”

“i totally knew they were going out!”

“i can’t believe it…”

“do you think he’ll reject her?”

it replayed over, and over, and over. what a fucking fool you felt. did he even feel the same?

that’s why i love you.

i love you.

a blob of black clouded your vision and you could hear the glass breaking.

yuuta sat himself back down, excusing himself.

you could hear nothing but the tune of his heartbeat. or was it yours? it sounded too heavy to belong in either of your bodies.

his voice came as a wobble because of his anxiety, but this was the one thing in his life he’d be absolutely certain of.

“that’s okay. i love you too.”

“yuuta? you okay? you’ve been spacing out for at least five minutes. something on your mind?” you lightly shake your boyfriend, grip reassuring but firm. it takes a couple of seconds for his gaze to gloss over as he returns back to reality.

“sorry. was just thinking about our childhood, that’s all.” his voice comes out deep and masculine. it doesn’t have that tremor as it used to before, like he’d break down at any minute.

you can say with absolute certainty as you stare up your entire 5’10 boyfriend that he’s matured well.

his hand snakes around to your waist, pulling you into him for comfort.

some ways better than others, you suppose.

“can we stay home today?” he hums, resting his chin on top of your head,

“same as ever, yuuta, aren’t you? it’s fine, i’ll tell nobara my period’s making me act up. she’ll understand-“

“hm? you’re not due for another week though, right?”

you crease your eyebrows as you type out an apology to nobara for cancelling plans, glancing up at yuuta curiously.

“how the heck do you know that?”

“i’m not supposed to? i’d always count your cycle so i wouldn’t irritate you on the wrong day. besides, don’t you think it was too convenient for you to always find snacks in your locker when it rolled around?”

“those snacks were you?! oh my god! i was trying to figure that out for forever!”

“i know. i remember you ranting to me about it.”

“you just sat there?! yuuta! you’re so cheeky sometimes, i swear!”

“only for you.” he chimes, peppering a soft kiss onto your head. you smile against him, though unfortunately pry out of his familiar and welcoming touch.

“i’m gonna step out for a second tho, ‘kay? i think that’s itadori at the door with my chocolate and painkillers” you snort, giving yuuta a bold wink as you put on your best act, keeling over and clutching at your abdomen as though you’re on death’s door.

“you’re awful.” yuuta chuckles, slumping down onto the sofa to hear the events unfold right in front of him.

you clear your throat and slouch your shoulders as you pry the apartment door open.

“(y/n)-senpai! i came as fast as i could and i brought you some of your favourite sna- oh, okkotsu-senpai! hello!”

“hi there.” he leans his head back, giving itadori a small wave.

“i won’t interrupt you guys so get well soon! and fast! cause i wanna hang out with you! bye!”

you cradle the necessities itadori brought whilst gleaming at yuuta with a wicked grin plastered on your face from ear to ear.

“you want anything?” you cock an eyebrow, showing him the arrangement of snacks.

it’s not the answer you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t unwelcome. it made you feel warm inside, like eating warm and soothing soup on a cold winter’s day. this, for you, was okkotsu yuuta at his best, stripped clean and vulnerable.

you’re the only one who he can relax around, act like the world is carefree. like he’s young again, prancing around in that dingy colourful playground he met you at.

“i want you to kiss me.”

#okay hold up #yuuta’s little ‘hi there’ HAS ME ACTING TF UP #OOOOOOOHHH THIS MAN #anyways i hope i wrote him well!!#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk headcanons #okkotsu yuuta #jjk yuuta #yuuta x you #yuuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu imagines #yuuta okkotsu

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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

Note

can you pretty pls write a lil drabble based on this where hange is the beekeeper, and levi is the person who moves into the apartment underneath? :D

It is, by all means, a good house. A very good one, actually, much better than Levi can probably afford.

It has more than one room and tiny kitchen, which is already a step up from his old crappy apartment.

And, this time, he has only one neighbor. Weird as she might seem - with hair sticking in every possible direction and dressed in a white lab coat - at least, she doesn't have children that wail uncontrollably at all hours of day and night, and she doesn't seem the type to blast horrible music after midnight.

"There is just one little thing," she says just after Levi moves in. "You are not against insects?"

"I'm just keeping a couple of bees in a backyard!" his neighbor hastily adds, instantly changing his mind on a whole subject. Here he thought that she was keeping something disgusting like cockroaches, but if it's only bees and she tends to them in a backyard, he doesn't really mind.

He tells her as much, and his neighbor beams.

"Excellent!" she clasps her hands together, jumping up. Her ponytail flies in the air, following her frantic movements. "I was so worried you'd be against my little friends. Come say hi to them when you have a chance! They like meeting new people!"

"Alright..." Levi nods, a bit warily. His neighbor is energetic one, for sure. And more than a little weird.

"I'm Hange, by the way!" she extends her hand to him, and with a cheerful wink adds, "I like meeting new people too."

"Levi," he says, deciding to keep "and I hate most of people" to himself.

Even with Hange and her bees, the house is perfect, suiting Levi's every need to a tee.

He especially likes the view from his bedroom window, the one showing the backyard.

Neatly cut lawn and a small rose garden is a pleasurable sight, and an excellent change from the view from his old apartment that overlooked a different building and a junkyard. Even dozens of beehives don't ruin the pretty picture. They're painted in different colors and stand close to each other in a semicircle. There are more of them than Levi had imagined when Hange mentioned just a couple of bees, but they don't bother him, considering he rarely has time to take advantage of the backyard anyway.

A week later, however, he is having his first weekend in a while. He finished unpacking his stuff and the house is clean, so Levi stands by the window in his bedroom, thinking what to do next.

Down below, on a backyard, Hange is tending to her bees. She is dressed in overalls and a straw hat, and the choice of clothes gives Levi a pause.

Aren't beekeepers supposed to wear a protective suit?

His surprise grows when Hange opens one of the hives and lets out dozens, no, hundreds of bees.

Levi's jaw drops to the floor as he watches bees flying around, forming a black cloud over Hange.

He even starts to worry, because surely this isn't safe, but he catches a glimpse of Hange's face, and there is a smile on her lips that eases his panic.

In the next second, Hange turns around, taking note of her little audience.

She waves her hand, gesturing him to come join her. Levi hesitates for a moment, the amount of bees makes him more than a little nervous, but Hange's smile is friendly and welcoming, and a part of him is actually curious about those bees (and Hange), so he grabs his sunglasses and makes his way to the backyard.

By the time, he's there, most of the bees are back in the hive.

"Didn't want to scare you," Hange explains, patting a chair next to her. Levi takes a seat and carefully glances at the hive.

"So how many do you have?" he asks.

"I'm not really sure anymore..." Hange looks up at the sky, scratching her chin. "But approximately 20, 000."

Levi almost chokes. His eyes widen as the number sinks in.

"20, 000?" he repeats, just in case he misheard.

"Give or take."

"You're insane," he breathes out.

"Oi!" Hange swats his arm. "Be nice. They're my friends."

"Friends?"

"Naturally," she nods. "I talk to them all the time, and sometimes they talk back..."

"They... talk?" Levi carefully says, looking at Hange from the corner of his eyes.

"Yes!" she beams. "Wait a minute! They want to tell me something right now!"

Hange leans closer to the hive, putting on an expression of attentiveness and thoughtfulness.

Levi stares at her, equally charmed and disturbed.

"Mm, just like I thought..." she finally turns to Levi. "They say they like you, Levi."

God, he thinks, fruitlessly fighting back a smile, what an idiot.

"You're right," he says. "I can hear something too."

Hange snickers, as she watches him get closer to the hive.

"Yep, they just told me, four-eyes, that you need to take a shower," he declares after a moment.

Hange's mouth opens, and Levi winces, wondering if he has gone too far, but then her nose scrunches and her eyes close, as she starts laughing.

"You may have a point," she admits. "It's too hot today, and I guess I've been sitting her for too long."

"Watch over them for me?" she asks, getting up to her feet. She stretches her arm above her head, and when Levi nods, she looks down at him with a grateful smile.

"Oh, and another thing," she says. "They wondered if you want to come by to drink a cup of tea sometime. I have excellent honey."

Levi turns to bees again, pretends to listen to them for a moment, and then answers, "They told me I'd be an idiot not to agree."

It might just be his imagination (or Hange's influence), but when she starts laughing, the bees buzzing seems almost happy.

#i know nothing about bees but!!! i hope you enjoyed this!!!!!#levihan

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peggyrose19 · 3 years ago

Text

Speak Now

This is a purely self-indulgent fic cause apparently that’s how I process emotions. So do with that what you will. But anyways.

It's been months since the last time Sirius and Remus saw each other. But in a week they leave for college on opposite sides of the country. They reunite one last time, to say goodbye and confess some secrets.

THURSDAY

Sirius (8:52pm): hey when do you leave for school?

Remus (8:55pm): The 26th, why?

Sirius (8:55pm): oh good i leave the 25th

Sirius (8:56pm): i’m trying to see everyone before i leave. wanna hang out this week?

Remus stared down at his phone for a long moment. He and Sirius hadn’t seen each other since graduation, since Sirius had left the week after, traveling across the country to visit family against his will. They hadn’t talked much since then, and Remus couldn't figure out why. But he missed him.

The fact that he was also in love with him was unrelated, of course.

Remus (8:58pm): Sure

***

They set plans for that Saturday evening, at Remus' house in the country. His parents were away, up the coast for a friend's wedding. Secretly, Remus was glad they wouldn't be there; it guaranteed fewer questions. Plus, he liked having the house to himself every once in a while and, after all summer with his mom working from home, he was glad for a little peace and quiet. Not that Sirius Black could ever be described as peaceful or quiet.

The knock on the door came far too soon. With a deep breath, Remus steeled himself and opened the door.

Sirius stood before him, very much real and not just a figment of his imagination.

"Remus!" he exclaimed, and hugged him tightly. "I've missed you."

"Missed you too," Remus muttered into Sirius' shoulder, subtly breathing in the familiar smell of fresh air, leather, and his mother's perfume.

Sirius pulled back with a wide grin, and Remus was frozen all over again. He'd thought it would be easier this time, that time and space would have lessened the want in his heart. But it only seemed to make it worse, as he asked how Sirius was and he immediately launched into a story.

It was like no time had passed at all. Sirius talked and suddenly Remus was 16 again, realizing he was in love with his best friend and not knowing what to do about it. It wasn't easier at all, it was harder. It was so much harder. But he pasted on that mask, pasted on a smile, and pretended he wasn't falling apart inside.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Remus demanded some time later, watching Sirius trying to start a fire, and completely butchering it in the process.

Sirius looked up from his pile of sticks with a guilty smile. "Starting a fire?"

"That is so not how you do that."

"Okay then Mr. Expert, how do you start a fire then?"

"I'll show you," Remus snipped, and he snatched the matches from Sirius' hand, fighting back a fond smile. The banter always had come easy to them.

Carefully, Remus cleared the fire pit of ashes and coals before grabbing a few newspapers from the nearby pile.

"You have to shake them out and then crumple 'em back up," he murmured, demonstrating. Sirius watched, smiling. Once the newspapers were crumpled, Remus set them in the middle of the pit, the taking a few small sticks from Sirius' hand. "Now you use the kindling." He began laying it down across the paper. "And create a pyramid. Once you have that done, you can add some bigger pieces." Sirius readily handed over a few larger sticks, and Remus placed them next, careful not the knock the whole thing over.

"Can I light it?" Sirius asked eagerly.

"Sure. Make sure to light the paper."

Sirius gave him a nod. "Yes sir."

Remus just rolled his eyes. But Sirius did as instructed, and soon they had a crackling fire going. Once the wood had caught, Remus added a few logs to keep it going and sat back down beside Sirius.

"How'd you learn to do that?" Sirius asked. The night was quiet around them, save the pops from the fire and the hum of insects.

"My dad taught me when I was little."

Sirius seemed to hear the sadness tinging his voice. "D'you miss him a lot?" he asked. Grief wasn't something Sirius was familiar with, not this kind. He didn't care about his family. Not that Remus could blame him. But still, he'd done everything right when Remus' father had passed six years before.

"Yeah," Remus admitted, voice soft. "I wish he was here. Big things happening, y'know?"

"Yeah. I can't believe we're leaving."

"Part of me wasn't sure we'd ever make it."

"I'm gonna miss you."

Remus looked over at Sirius. He stared resolutely at the fire, shadows dancing across his face. "Me too."

"Remus," Sirius started, "I need you to know something."

"Okay?"

"Okay." Sirius took a deep breath. He didn't look away from the fire. "You remember I had a girlfriend last summer?"

Remus frowned. "Yeah?"

"Right. Well. That was fake. I'm actually gay."

"Oh." Remus had not expected that. Although, in truth, he'd suspected for a while. One did not look at Sirius Black and think "straight", generally speaking, of course. But Sirius didn't need to know that. "Well. That's great, Sirius. Thanks for telling me."

Sirius just swallowed. "Right. Yup. That's not what I need to tell you."

Now Remus was getting concerned. Sirius never acted like this; the last time he'd been this squirrely, Remus had found out his mother abused him. He tried not to panic. They may not have talked in months before this but he'd never stopped caring.

"Sirius, what's going on?"

"I like you," he blurted. Then, "Shit."

"Oh."

It was all Remus could think to say. He'd imagined this happening many times, imagined what he'd say, what Sirius would say. He'd thought up a hundred different scenarios. But none of them had prepared them for his fantasies becoming real.

"I'm not expecting anything else back, obviously," Sirius rambled. "I just wanted you to know. Clear the air. I-"

"Sirius, stop."

He shut his mouth with a snap.

"I'm not upset at you." It was all he could think to say. Sirius didn't say anything. Remus swallowed. "And I... I like you, too. A lot."

Sirius stared at him. "That's not funny."

Remus felt his heart begin to shatter. "It's not a joke."

"That's not funny?" His voice broke.

"C'mere."

Conflicting emotions flashed across Sirius' face, but he stood and walked over. Wordlessly, Remus opened his arms and Sirius sank into them.

"I'm not kidding, love," he whispered. "I've liked you for like, three years now. I was just too scared to say anything."

Sirius pulled back and looked Remus in the eye. He didn't say anything for a long time, just looked. Remus couldn't look away, mesmerized by the emotion in those grey eyes. But after a while, Sirius leaned forward again and kissed him.

It felt as though the whole world stopped and started again in a single instant. It felt like fireworks went off. It felt like everything had righted itself.

The kiss was by no means perfect; it was messy and wet and awkward. But Sirius tasted like smoke and vanilla, and he was holding Remus close. And when he kissed Remus a second time, more sure this time, it was even better.

Remus didn't know long they spent like that, kissing in the fading daylight, the fire crackling along beside them. All he knew was that Sirius was warm on his lap, and his mouth soft and sure. He didn't ever want to stop. Luckily for him, Sirius didn't seem to want that either.

"Stay tonight?" Remus asked in a whisper, and Sirius just nodded.

***

MONDAY

Remus (10:21am): You left your sweater here

Sirius (10:21am): oh no whatever shall i do

Remus (10:22am): I guess you'll just have to swing by and pick it up

Remus (10:22am): Wouldn't want to forget it when you leave

Sirius (10:23am): no we certainly can't have that

Remus (10:23am): hmmmm

Sirius (10:24am): you're wearing it aren't you

Remus (10:24am): It's quite comfortable, I have to say

Sirius (10:24am): keep it then

Remus (10:25am): *pouty face*

Sirius (10:25am): nooo why the pouty face

Remus (10:26am): Guess I just won't get to see you today then, if you don't want it back

Sirius (10:26am): ahh i see

Sirius (10:26am): i'll have to stop by for one of your sweaters

Remus (10:27am): *smiley face*

Sirius (10:27am): see you soon <3

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #first kiss #mutual crush #their awkward #and in love #no i'm not projecting shut up #how much of this is my experience?#you'll never know

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jingyismom · 3 years ago

Text

Happy birthday Lan Jingyi!

word + mood prompted minithreads part 1:

river + sleepy

The sun is high and insects buzz all around their boat. It's too hot to be anywhere right now, but Jingyi supposes the river isn't the worst place to be. He squints up at the disciple steering them.

"We're not gonna hit any rapids or anything right?"

She shakes her head with only a slightly pitying look. Jingyi ignores it. How is he supposed to know river topography? He's not a fish.

Mm. Fish.

"Sizhui, are you hungry?"

Sizhui does that thing where he is Not Rolling His Eyes. "No, Jingyi, I am not hungry half a shichen after eating."

Jingyi sighs. It's too hot is what it is. He yawns.

"Well if there's no excitement and no food, I'm taking a nap."

Nobody says anything. He takes this as enthusiastic support, and stretches out against the side of the boat.

"Wake me when something interesting happens."

"With Jingyi asleep, how could anything be interesting?" Sizhui deadpans.

Jingyi lets his fingers trail in the cool water, smiling. He reaches back to lazily flick droplets at his friend and listen to the quiet, indignant sound he can't keep from making.

"Such a good point," he says. "Wake me when you miss me."

There's a beat of silence.

"Then don't go to sleep."

Jingyi huffs into his sleeve to hide his embarrassed flush.

"Can't hear you. I'm asleep already."

"Apologies."

Jingyi can hear the grin in his voice. It's nice. He sleeps.

ramen + anxiety

The dorm is far too quiet, and it's driving Jingyi out of his mind, but he knows he can't put on music and do calculus at the same time. It just doesn't work. Not that his brain and calculus work all that great anyway, but the point is, he's trying. Really, he is.

His phone buzzes and he grabs it so fast he almost fumbles it across the room. It's a text from Sizhui.

"What are you eating?"

Jingyi lets his head drop to his desk. What time even is it? Like 6?

He checks. It's 9pm.

"Ramen," he types back, defeated. It's all he has.

Or at least, he thinks he has a packet left. He's not sure. He's been too busy to keep track. Between classes, and training, and service hours liberating old ladies' cats, he's hardly had time to breathe. And now he has a test, not a quiz, a TEST, and it's tomorrow MORNING, and he doesn't even know what he's doing with half the material.

And it's 9pm. And he /thinks/ he has ramen. He may just starve.

He stares at his textbook for another interminable period of time until his phone buzzes again. It's Jin Ling, this time.

"come downstairs. bring ur miserable ramen."

Jingyi shoots out of his seat and throws on a sweatshirt. He's not entirely certain he wants to deal with whatever Jin Ling has in mind but it's better than sitting here staring into space. He grabs the ramen and half runs downstairs.

The teeny tiny kitchen is full of people. Sizhui is chopping vegetables. Zizhen is boiling water and heating oil in a pan. Jin Ling is sitting at the table, arms crossed, bowls and utensils and more packets of ramen spread like tarot in front of them.

"...Hey," Jingyi says, a little overwhelmed.

"Hey!" Zizhen calls, jiggling the pan as Sizhui throws something green into it. "Heard we're having ramen?"

Jingyi sinks into the chair across from Jin Ling.

"Yeah,” he says, grateful beyond words. "It was all I had."

rabbits + longing

"You shouldn't slouch," says Sizhui, "you're supposed to be setting an example."

Jingyi motions vaguely at the little disciples filing off the practice field, then leans his head on his fist. "They're not even looking."

"Hm."

It's disapproving sound. Jingyi glances at him sidelong.

"What, no speech?"

Sizhui gives a little shake of his head.

"Am I too pathetic for dignity? Is that what you're saying?"

Sizui frowns hard. "No. Of course not."

"I am," Jingyi insists.

He sprawls on his back along the low wall on which they're sitting. "I'm pathetic. I can't think. I can't eat. I can't even teach basic sword forms. Sizhui, how am I supposed to be a person anymore."

"Jingyi," Sizhui pleads.

"No, I'm serious. All I can think about is-- is his hair. And his smile. And you know, you know how sometimes he just-- he smells like rain? How does he do that? I'll never even know because he hardly knows I exist. How am I supposed to exist?"

Sizhui sighs. Deeply.

"I don't know what to tell you. I wish I did."

"I just--" Jingyi breaks off, horrified by the crack in his voice. "Oh fuck, I just really...I want...I don't know."

Pressure builds in his chest, familiar over the last few weeks. He feels like he might burst. He presses his hands to his eyes, determined not to cry over this. Well, not again.

"You know, Hanguang-jun would say that the world itself is enough to live for, even when it's hurting you."

Jingyi peeks at him out of one eye. "Did he say that? When?"

"Last year," Sizhui says, looking at his hands.

He doesn't have to say more. Last year was especially hard for Sizhui. An extended family trip with his undead cousin helped, but really, how much can something like that improve things?

"Well, if Hanguang-jun said it..." he says, wry. It's a common refrain, but not entirely reassuring just now. "Still, I--"

"Hanguang-jun!" Sizhui says, standing.

Jingyi scrambles to follow, straightening his rumpled robes. "Hanguang-jun."

HGJ is striding toward them out of the trees. Jingyi hasn't seen him alone since Wei-qianbei came back. He hopes everything is still okay.

"Sit," he says when he reaches them. They sit. HGJ stares at them, then glances around the empty field. "Behind the wall, on the ground."

Jingyi exchanges a glance with Sizhui, but they both clamber over it to sit behind. HGJ walks around it, stately, and then goes to his knees in front of them.

Jingyi stares, breathless, absolutely certain they're about to receive some great cultivation secret, perhaps even the key to immortality. HGJ is so serious, and careful, and has never asked him to join him somewhere private before. This is it. It's happening. He doesn't know what it is but it's happening right now.

"Be careful," HGJ says. "Do not frighten them."

Jingyi nods. He'll be so careful. He doesn't know who not to frighten but he'll work on it-- he's generally not very intimidating anyway, it should be fine.

HGJ leans toward him. He extends his arms.

And deposits two small, round, perfectly white bunnies in Jingyi's lap.

"H-- Hanguang-jun?"

Jingyi stares at the creatures. They're warm, and look very soft. They seem sleepy.

"When you feel better," HGJ says, "Sizhui will show you where they live."

Jingyi looks up at him, at the serene expression on his face, and his earlier resolve crumbles.

"Th-thank you Hanguang-jun," he says, wiping tears and snot off his face.

"Mn."

HGJ stands and takes his leave. Sizhui pats his arm. The bunnies nuzzle his hands.

affection + congee

After one of the most miserable nights of Jingyi's life, the rising sun shines into his eyes. He rolls over and pulls the blanket over his head. Everything is awful. His head hurts. His face hurts. His throat hurts for some reason? He can barely breathe.

He feels like a boiled cabbage. He knows he should be getting up, Hanguang-jun will expect him to be at breakfast with everyone else, but he just can't. Not yet.

He pouts to himself, whimpering pathetically as he pictures Hanguang-jun’s disappointed face. He can't survive it.

He hears the door open, and forces himself upright, trying not to list to the side.

"Up, 'm up," he says, and tries to get out of bed.

He can't really see out of his watery eyes but he assumes it's Sizhui come to collect him.

"Aiyo, get back in bed you little nuisance, your thumping around will wake the whole inn," comes a different voice entirely. Brisk hands push him down and pull the covers over him. "That yao really did a number on you, huh? Who's ever heard of a sinus infection curse?? Bad luck."

"Not luck," Jingyi says, mulish. "Pushed Jin Ling out of the way."

"I know, I know," Wei-qianbei goes on, and Jingyi thinks he might be dreaming what he says next. "You were very brave, we all saw. Jin Ling is grateful."

Jingyi frowns. "That doesn't sound right."

Wei-qianbei chuckles. "Just take it. And this, here, it'll help you feel better."

A spoon appears in front of his face, full of something pale.

"Wei-qianbei," he says slowly, "is this...your congee?"

A snort. "No. Hanguang-jun made it, just for you."

Jingyi blinks up at him. "He did?"

"Mhmm," Wei-qianbei nods, his mouth pressed tightly closed.

Jingyi has a feeling he's being made fun of. He pouts, but takes the spoon and puts it in his mouth.

"Wow. Good."

"Of course it is, I made it."

Jingyi gapes. "You--"

Wei-qianbei ruffles his hair. "Someone had to take care of you and I drew the short straw. Eat up, and you /will/ feel better, alright?"

"...alright." Jingyi concedes. It seems to be helping already, somehow. "I will."

"That's a good little duckling."

Wei-qianbei laughs at his grimace and pats his shoulder.

"You look more like yourself already."

part 2 of these minithreads posted in a reblog later today <3

#lan jingyi #mdzsnet #untameddaily #my fic #the untamed fanfic #this is about half the prompts i got #i'll add the rest in a reblog later <3

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kyotakumrau · 4 years ago

Text

2021.04.06 a talk event at Meguro Rock-May-Kan film screening at Namba Hatch with Kyo and Shinya - PART 1 Report by とあ on twitter (topics are not reported in order things happened, I mostly followed the order they posted, 1st and 2nd session bits are mixed together) my comments go in (*…)

Shinya entered the stage in black hoodie, both hands in his pockets. He also had hands in the pockets when he left the stage. Came with a drink.

Kyo came on stage with his arms crossed. He drank some water soon after sitting down, I thought he started to play with the flyer but he made an airplane from it. Q “To Die. Please tell us the secret of your youth.” Kyo and Shinya face each other and laugh. Kyo: Is it okay to imagine what Die is doing? I said that I quit McDonalds, right? Die also said he hasn’t had McD in years. Fujieda: He also said he doesn’t eat ramen. Kyo: and he doesn’t eat spicy food. Kyo: Now he’s just eating, like tofu? Tofu or soybeans. Shinya: he researched and knows a lot. Even when going on a diet in the past he found a good plan. During the rapid question time they also answered another one for Die “I bought Die’s model guitar. Please tell me how can I get better” when reading Kyo answered “tooth guitar”. I think it was when reading about this guitar? Kyo started laughing then Fujieda started laughing and for a bit they both faced each other laughing.

“Coffee” Kyo: I drink it black. Even at home. Using beans from Starbucks. I drink 1~3 cups a day. Fujieda: Kaldi’s coffee is also great. They have many types. Kyo: If you say that they have many different types you have to try them to compare. You don’t say this even though you didn’t drink them, right? Fujieda: I tried quite a lot. There’s different one for each season. Now they sell sakura blend etc. Kyo: Ah, then it’s fine. If you drank it. Shinya: some years back I bought Nespresso coffee maker but I’ve only used it for 2 weeks. It’s still in my house. Kyo (suddenly looking at Shinya): gimme! (くれ!) Shinya: o, okay. Kyo (turning to Fujieda looking happy): he said okay! Kyo: Then I will give you a coupon to get that right side curl fixed. it caught my eye that looking from here that just the right side of your hair has this weird curl. Shinya: No, it’s not weird... Kyo: But I will give you a voucher to get that fixed.

“What’s your routine before the show?” Both of them don’t have one Kyo: Does anyone have? Fujieda: Toshiya is doing muscle training. Kyo: Ah... and doesn’t Die move around a lot? Shinya: He does. Until the start he’s very restless. Kyo: Right? Even when we all gather one is always going back and forth. “Your favourite takoyaki” Shinya: I don’t care. Even though I’m from Osaka I don’t really eat takoyaki. It is said that every household in Kansai will have a takoyaki machine but we didn’t. In the 20 years I lived there I only had like 5 octopus balls. Kyo: That time when you were wearing that long earring? You only had 5? So what type? Shinya: the one that is crispy outside and soft inside

“A difficult song” Shinya: Rinkaku. Because I need to keep kicking. It’s faster than Zan. The drum is nice but it totally kills my leg. Kyo: DIFFERENT SENSE as I said before. I imagined a dialogue as it’s a heavy song when I made it, but when I didn’t get any response, I ended up having to sing all of it by myself so it’s really tiring. I tried control my breathing when swimming but I can’t. Kyo: So in the end it’s like swimming the whole thing without breathing. I was told by Kaoru to try pointing the mic [at fans], but all I get is ‘eh right now?’ (gestures pointing with his right arm) I get ‘eh here?’ The people in front of me try to respond, but the people on the sides (again points with his right arm) go ’eh? Eh? Here? (agitated) so I gave up. I don’t mind if it’s the wrong pitch, just put your feelings into it.

Kyo: I started playing Monster Hunter. On Switch. Takabayashi: I’m also playing. Kyo: Then let’s play together! (big grin) Takabayashi: Okay. Shinya: I bought it on the day DS got released, but I couldn’t understand the objective of the game after playing for a day so I didn’t feel like playing anymore. Kyo: So you just started playing from zero by yourself? No one helped you saying what to do? Shinya: Yup. Kyo: If you told me I’d have helped you. Shinya: So in the end what happens? What is the goal? Kyo: there’s none. Shinya: What? Kyo: You just continue getting your level up. Shinya: And for how long do you continue to play? Kyo: There are people who continue playing until the next game comes out. Shinya: Woah...

"What weapons you're using in Monster Hunter" Kyo: I'm using a bow. It might seem it's because it's huge, but I can attack from a distance and avoid being found. Make a shot from a distance, if you're found out you can run away. Direct confrontation is scary.

“During the Osaka period what studio did you use?” Kyo: Was it in Umeda? Shinya: Yup. Fujieda: What was the name? Kyo: I don’t remember. Do you? Shinya: Yes. It was M4　www.m4-studio.com Kyo: That’s some memory. Shinya: I booked it. I confirmed the date with 4 of you and called them. We made Karma and Aoi Tsuki there.

“About Oboro teaser” Kyo: Could you see me? I only watched it on my phone so couldn’t tell what was what.

“Rock-May-KanGIG" Shinya: there were many problems... no one around me [to help]. When my ear monitor fell out I had to fix it myself. And I made this rookie mistake of not pressing record on camera... Kyo: We don’t remember things like that. Kyo: Do you remember what you ate a month ago? You don’t right? It’s the same. You might remember that the main dish was shrimp but you won’t remember sides. “About SOGAI in May” Kyo: something that will happen in a month...Do you think about what you will be eating in a month? Fujieda: But I think many fans are looking forward to it. Kyo: I guess, but that’s because they’re going to enjoy the food. From the side of people who will be cooking you only start preparing about a week before, no? Fujieda: So you will start feeling motivated a week before... Kyo: Nope. Fujieda: Shinya, do you think this analogy works? Shinya: After hearing it I think so.

“What are some food combinations that you find just wrong?” (*from other twitter reports the question had example like pineapple in sweet sour pork etc) Shinya: as long as there’s no foods I dislike anything is okay. Kyo: I don’t have any food like that, but but I hate when people mix different sports brands. Wearing adidas with Nike shoes and so on. When I see someone like that I want to tell them ‘could you not?’

“What expensive item have you bought recently?”

Shinya: I’ve already answered this earlier. A camera. The camera itself was 40k and lens was 20k yen. Kyo: What do you use the camera for? Shinya: For recording and so on. Kyo: What kind of [recording]? Shinya: For youtube or Haiiro. Kyo: Isn’t iPhone good enough for that? Kyo: When I’m taking a photo I just pass my iPhone and ask someone. Fujieda: I was given a camera for taking photos, but after about 15 minutes I was told to use iPhone in the end. Kyo: Do you know what was different? Fujieda: I didn’t. Kyo: (*going back to the main question) an expensive item... Nike and Garcons sneakers I guess. They were about 20k yen.　(*Pegasus?) I’m drinking coffee while looking at the sneakers.

“Do you prefer indoor or outdoor festivals?” Shinya: If it’s daytime then indoor. It would be too bright outdoor in daytime. Kyo: I hate insects so indoor. Weren’t there so many insects when you had plants? Fujieda: Speaking of insects, don't they get into your mouth when you ride a bike? Kyo: You ride a bike with an open mouth? Silly kid. Fujieda: Instead of having open mouth, it's like there's suddenly an insect in your mouth, when it crashes into you. Kyo: Riding a bike with an open mouth is silly. Why, are you singing? Fujieda: Sometimes I do, actually. Kyo: If you're singing while riding that's okay, if you just have your mouth open while riding that's silly.

"About SOGAI in May" Shinya: We're working on the setlist, it will be great. Kyo: That's why I don't want you to ask me about a concert in a month. Don't ask me questions about concerts next year. I won't answer.

"What's a good place in Hirakata?" Shinya: Hira pa (Hirakata Park) and TSUTAYA, right? TSUTAYA is where I was born. Fujiefa: Eh? Really? I didn't know. Kyo: if in Tokyo you say Hirapa no one will understand Kyo: Do you know? (looks at Shinya) when you just come in and there's a place with dogs Shinya: Like real dogs? Kyo: Yeah. There are about 20 dogs, but all are so tired. Lifeless as if they were abused. Of course they weren't abused, but it's a place where you can spend some time with dogs but they are so tired, so lifeless and tired that it's almost a shame they are kept there. (*I think he's talking about Doubutsu Hug Hug Town)

"What hotel facilities do you find exciting?" Shinya: ...for example? Fujieda: ehm... Kyo: This is not something exciting, but. You know in a shower? When you don't know if you're supposed to move the handle up or down? Maybe this way? And then when you move it the water suddenly comes out from above! (Shinya nods) Fujieda: That's criminal! Was it hot? Kyo: First water came out, but when I turned the handle the water suddenly poured from above, I got totally soaked. How do you use that? Shinya: there are some places where water comes out in 3 places instead of 2. Fujieda: Criminal! Fujieda: Anything exciting? Shinya: Like? Fujieda: Like a big tv. Shinya: I don't watch TV. Dujieda: That's true, you don't. How about a very good pillow? Shinya: I don't care. Kyo: And the shower [head]! Just from one hole the water goes in a strange direction, there's nothing stuck there, just water, but just this one spot. What's that about? (Shinya continued to nod while smiling)

"To Shinya. What time did you wake up today?" Shinya: Around 1. At night. Fujieda: What time did you go to bed? Shinya: I think about 10pm. Fujieda: You almost didn't sleep at all. Kyo: Aren't you an old man now! (*🤣🤣🤣🤣)

"What toothpaste and toothbrush are you using?" Kyo: Any toothpaste is okay, but I prefer small toothbruses. Because I have very complex teeth. Like a maze. You get lost there. That's why I choose a tothbrush with a small head, has good reach. Shinya: I'm using a toothpaste from overseas with an M, any brush is okay for me. But I use one with water coming out of it. Fujieda: Is it electric? Shinya: Yes. Fujieda: Is it painful? Shinya: Well sometimes it gets a bit bloody. Kyo: You're really into it (laughing) to keep using it even if you're bleeding.

Kyo is watching The world unknown to Matsuko every week (depends on the episode but it's interesting), when finishing the 2nd sessiin event Shinya said 'go straight home and from 8:57 watch The world unknown to Matsuko'. It already started and it seems [dir] appeared there.

"Where do you want to tour besides Tokyo-Nagoya-Osaka?" Shinya: Somewhere we still haven't been to... where was it? Takabayashi: ehm... Shimane, Wakayama, Saga. Shinya: There. Kyo: Kyoto. Kyoto is good. Kyoto is the best. Even now I'd love to [have an event] in Kyoto instead. Kyoto is the best or, I want to become Kyoto.

"What animals do you like in the zoo?" Kyo: ehm... sheep I guess. I want to look at them or hold them. Shinya: Animals you don't see in everyday life like giraffes, elephants or lions.

"What do you like in an amusement park?" Kyo: I guess the haunted house? Yeah, haunted house. It's okay when people try to scare me. It's not scary. I'm laughing all the time. Fujieda: So you can enjoy FujiQ no problem? Kyo: I haven't been, but I think it's fine? I would be fine bringing a sheep with me I guess? Going in while stroking the fluffy sheep. Shinya: Ferris Wheel. Fujieda: How about the thrilling ones? Shinya: I don't like them. Fujieda: So Ferris Wheels for Shinya, understood.

"About shooting Oboro PV" Shinya: It was tough. Kyo: You say that? Say that to ME?? Shinya: Well, you were shooting naked. The green stuff got all over my clothes and cleaning that took ages. Kyo: Ah, I guess. But you could've gotten it dry cleaned, no? Shinya: It was a fabric that cannot be dry cleaned. I couldn't remove it in the end so I gave it to Fujieda. Kyo: You did? You got it? Fujieda: Yeah, I passed it to the person who designed the costume. Kyo: I see... Shinya: And the floor was very cold. Kyo: You say that?!?!?! Fujieda: Were you okay, Kyo? Kyo: Yeah... I'm a pro in the end. Fujieda: Oh (claps) Kyo: Are you mocking me? Looking down on me? Fujieda: No! Not at all! I clapped because I think that's great! Kyo: No, you're defnitely looking down on me. It's the same as the 'whats your salary like?' 'this much' 'oh'.

tbc

#dir en grey #kyo #京 #shinya #爆音会 #talk event #namba hatch #translation

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httpjeon · 5 years ago

Text

lovebug — jimin (m.)

jimin/reader | angst, fluff, smut | hybrid!au

wordcount: 12k

contents: spider hybrid!jimin, hybrid mistreatment/bullying, love self esteem/self-worth, arguments, crying, physical altercation between jimin & reader, name-calling, attachment anxiety, possessiveness, kissing, scenting, dom!jimin, manhandling, size kink/difference, fingering, dirty talk, cunnilingus, sensitivity kink, wet & messy, lots of cum, cumflation, jimins duality

— synopsis: hybrids are lovable companions for humans. unfortunately, most people simply want a cat or dog with which they can cuddle and love on. while looking for one to adopt, a lonesome hybrid of an unusual breed catches your eye.

note: part of the unadoptable series; masterlist will be coming soon!

blog masterlist

Deciding to get a hybrid is a big responsibility. They require abundant care and love — having been genetically modified as an attempt at a 'super species' when the human race was close to dying out as an attempt to preserve the DNA of humanity.

Now, however, through years of evolution, they have simply become a daily part of life as companions for humans.

After moving out of your college dorm and into a new apartment, you found yourself extremely lonely. So, you decided that perhaps you could look into getting a hybrid. You saved as much money as you could — hybrids were expensive after all.

"Are you sure you want to get one from the shelter?" your friend, Minah, asked as you walked with her on the bustling streets of Seoul, "I mean, a couple more months of saving and you could find a hybrid breeder—"

"I don't really care about that," you waved her off, "I'm not looking to get the best hybrid out there. I just want someone to keep me company."

"Still...a shelter...you don't know where these hybrids have been," she cringed, opening the door which made the bell above it ring to indicate the store there were customers, "They could have diseases or be aggressive."

"I assure you, all our hybrids are tested for diseases and aggressive ones are rehabilitated to become suitable companions," a lady wearing a uniform smiled, hands clasped behind her back. Her name tag read 'Nayeon', "Can I help you with something?"

"I'm looking to get a hybrid," you said sheepishly, heart pounding in excitement as she grinned.

"Excellent! Do you have a type in mind? We have an excellent selection of feline and canine hybrids," she looked at you expectantly as you thought it over.

"I...didn't really think about it," you shrugged, "I just figured I'd look and see if any caught my eye, you know?"

"I understand," Nayeon nodded, seemingly unbothered by your indecisiveness, "Well, you can go through those doors and have a look at the hybrids available."

"Thanks," you smiled, tugging Minah's hand until she began to follow you.

Once you pushed the doors open, you were met with a long hallway that seemed to divert left and right. The floors were white linoleum and the fluorescent lights made the white walls seem glaringly bright. The walls were lined with large viewing windows that allowed you to peer into each hybrid's room.

As you walked, you could see the cat hybrid sleeping and dog hybrids busying themselves energetically. You reached the end of the hallway and paused, looking both ways to decide where to go.

"It looks like it's mostly empty down here," Minah said as she walked a couple of feet into the left hallway.

"Then we'll go right," you smiled, taking a look in the windows. It seemed they were mostly rabbit, rodent, and reptile hybrids in this section.

You were just beginning to give up when something caught your eye — a quick flash of purple. Pausing, you backed up a couple steps to look in once again.

"Whoa...creepy..." Minah squinted into the room that was seemingly covered in webbing with a purple haired hybrid sitting with his back to you.

He didn't have any hybrid ears or a tail and he looked strikingly like a human. Minah picked up the clipboard that held the information on the hybrid inside.

"Spider hybrid?" Minah cringed and made a sound of disgust, "Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

"I haven't, no..." you tore your eyes from his vibrant purple hair to look at the clipboard. "He's 24...no specific breed."

"Don't you think the concept of having a hybrid that'd older than you...strange?" Minah asked thoughtfully, "I think I'd have to get one that’s younger than me...the power balance seems weird otherwise."

"I haven't really thought about it..." you mumbled as you looked around his room.

There was no bed, instead there was a concentration of webbing in one corner that you assumed he probably used for a bed. You could see that he was messing with something in his hands but since his back was to you, you couldn't make out what exactly it was.

"Do you have your eye on anything—" Nayeon approached the two of you and paused. "I see you've found Jimin."

"Yeah, what the hell is up with him?" Minah asked, tapping on the glass. The hybrid inside showed no signs of caring. "I didn't even know spider hybrids existed."

"Ah yes...Jimin is quite special. It's very rare to have insect hybrids," Nayeon said.

"Spiders aren't insects," you said suddenly, taking the clipboard from Minah's hands, "They're arachnids."

"Same thing," Minah mumbled, "Quit looking at him."

"There isn't much information on him," you said, looking to Nayeon as Minah scoffed at you ignoring her.

"Oh um...Jimin is..." Nayeon shifted on her feet, "Well, he's a spider...not many people want a spider hybrid. They'd prefer one they can hold and hug and show affection to. Also...he makes webs and it’s such a huge mess...just not a very house-friendly pet, you know? Most people are creeped out by him."

"Me included," Minah mumbled, side-eyeing Jimin inside his room as Nayeon nodded in agreement.

"I can't go in there...he gives me the creeps. None of the staff really go in there and to be honest he's not very social," Nayeon explained. "Jimin, can you say hi?"

"He can hear us?" you asked, eyes widening as she nodded. You were shocked to hear her speak meanly of the hybrid when he could hear her words.

"See? He doesn't really care about anyone," Nayeon explained, motioning towards where Jimin kept his back to the window as he continued to mess with whatever was in his hands.

"What can you expect from a spider? I'm pretty sure spiders are just like..." Minah motioned vaguely with her hands as she spoke, "Emotionless. They don't have like...consciousness like cats and dogs do, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Nayeon nodded with a sigh. "So, have any hybrids caught your eye, ma'am?"

"I actually..." you smiled lightly towards Jimin's figure.

"Oh...you really don't want him. Trust me," Nayeon shook her head. "Lots of people think they do but the second you go in there and meet him..."

"He's weird and creepy, I swear to God _____ if you get a spider hybrid I will actually beat you up," Minah grabbed your arm and tugged on you, "Please just get a cat or something I won't ever be able to come over if you get him. He's gross!"

You sighed, placing the clipboard up as you got fed up with Minah's whining. As she began to tug you away, you caught sight of what Jimin had been messing with in his hand — a little figurine made of web.

"I swear I'm never going to get the idea of a spider hybrid out of my mind now," Minah mumbled as you made your way home, "Are you seriously not going to check out any other shelters today?"

"Nah," you waved her off, "I'm pretty tired. I'll go tomorrow and see if I can find anyone."

"I have work tomorrow, I won't be able to come!" Minah whined, tossing her head back as she groaned.

You smiled, shrugging your shoulders, "I'm sure I can survive on my own. I'm a big girl."

"You say that as if I didn't stop you from getting a spider as a hybrid!" she cried, shoving your shoulder playfully, "Promise me you won't get any weird hybrids."

"I promise nothing," you turned your back to her, ignoring her whining your name as you disappeared into your apartment building.

You held your bag by your side, swinging it mindlessly as you stood in the elevator on the way up to your apartment. For some reason, your heart felt heavy and you couldn't help but flop onto your bed with a big sigh the second you stepped into your bedroom.

Staring up at the ceiling, your mind drifted to Jimin — unsure why the hybrid left such an impact on you.

When you woke up the next day, you still felt that heavy feeling hanging over you. As you got ready, you were looking up hybrid centers you could stop by to look at their selection.

Instead of going to the one you decided, a small family owned adoption center, you walked the same path as yesterday until you ended up in front of the same hybrid place you went to with Minah.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked at the door as you tried to decide what to do.

Suddenly, the door opened and a couple walked out snickering.

"Did you see it? How weird," the woman mumbled, "I couldn't even look at it without feeling sick."

"A hybrid like that should just be put down, no one's going to adopt it..." the man added, shoving his hands in his pockets, "It's probably just going to die in there."

"It probably doesn't even care...it's just a bug," the woman said before taking her partner's hand as they walked away.

After hearing them talk like that, you found yourself filled with determination to enter the building.

"Hi welcome!" a new woman was working at the main desk — her name tag indicating her as Yuri, "What can I help you with?"

"I'd like to adopt Jimin," you blurted out, watching as she froze where she stood blinking as if your words had thrown her through a loop.

"You...the spider, Jimin?" she asked, mouth falling open in surprise when you nodded, "I...are you sure? I mean there are plenty of other suitable hybrids—"

"I want Jimin," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"This has to be a joke," Yuri scoffed, customer service attitude dropping as she stared at you, "No one wants Jimin. You're just going to regret it."

"Whether I do or not isn't any of your business," you snapped, growing tired of her refusal to let you adopt him.

"How can you want a hybrid like that? Are you crazy?" she spat, narrowing her eyes to glare at you.

"What's going on here?" a sudden, masculine voice emerged from a once closed door behind the reception desk.

Yuri visibly tensed, her eyes going wide as she turned around to look, "M-Mr. Namjoon, sir...I-I didn't know you were in..."

"Right..." the man named Namjoon frowned down at her before looking at you, "Is everything alright?"

"I want to adopt Jimin and she's not letting me," you quickly ratted the rude girl out, not caring for her job after her attitude.

"Jimin?" Namjoon asked, shock evident on his face. "Are you sure?"

You were getting ready to argue again, when he suddenly reached over the reception desk to pull out a form. As he handed it to you, you realized it was an adoption form.

"M-Mr. Namjoon...surely you can't—"

"Yuri, you're dismissed," Namjoon snapped, pointing towards the door without giving her a single look. She scoffed, angrily grabbing her bag from by her chair before storming past you, muttering under her breath as she left.

You grabbed a pen and began to fill out the information on the page, acutely aware of Namjoon's eyes on you. He didn't say anything, however, so you tried your best not to pay him any mind.

Just as you were about to sign your name on the bottom, he placed his hand on the paper to stop you.

"If this is a joke..." he said, looming over you with a frown on his handsome face, "Then it's gone far enough."

"Why does everyone keep criticizing me," you mumbled, standing up straight to look at him.

"No one has ever...genuinely adopted Jimin or even really tried to adopt him," Namjoon explained, "He has been here for over 10 years...in that room, alone," you were shocked to see the way his eyes became glassy with tears, "So if you're planning...to get his hopes up for a sick joke...I really don't think he can handle it."

"I thought no one cared about him here?" you asked, watching his brows furrow,

"Who said that?" he asked.

"Girl named Nayeon," you shrugged, "I came here yesterday and she and my friend told me not to adopt him. I got annoyed so I left and came back without Minah so I could do this without her yelling at me."

"Well she's wrong," Namjoon said, "I own this center. I care for each and every hybrid that comes through those doors no matter where they come from, what breed or species they are, or how they act. Jimin is..." he sighed, "Jimin is special. No one ever looked twice at him unless it's to belittle him."

"Do people...try to adopt him as a joke?" you asked, your heart aching at the sympathetic pain that was in Namjoon's eyes as he nodded.

"A couple times," he said, "Stupid dares or attempts to look cool...they always get his hopes up only to be told it's a joke and that no one really wanted him to begin with."

"That's terrible..." your eyes burned with the appearance of tears at Namjoon's story.

"So please..." Namjoon whispered, voice cracking, "I am begging you to only do this...if you really want him."

"I really do," you said, meeting his gaze as he stared at you for several seconds. He seemed to be thinking it over, whether to believe you or not. Slowly, he removed his hand and nodded, "I'll go get him."

You nodded, watching him disappear down the hallway before signing your name on the indicated lines. Standing there, you couldn't help but think back on Namjoon's words. No doubt Jimin faced a lot of cruelty and ugliness in his lifetime. The very thought of him being shut in a room, forced to listen to people call him names for 10 years had your eyes filling with tears.

You would do everything in your power to make him happy with you.

"You're still here..." Namjoon's voice had you jumping and you spun on your heel to find him standing there — alone.

"Um...of course..." you shrugged, "Where's Jimin?"

"I didn't get him yet," Namjoon explained, walking up to you with his arms crossed over his chest, "Usually when I leave to get him...people run away. So..."

"You decided to test me," you said, chuckling when he nodded, "Did I pass?"

"You'll pass when you pay for him first," he said, rounding the reception desk to take a seat in front of the computer.

"Locking me in with the cash, huh?" you shook your head, slightly offended that he believed you were such a bad person but also understanding his desire to protect Jimin.

You opened your purse and pulled out your wallet, passing your debit card over to him. He held it in his fingers for a moment, looking at it with his jaw clenched. As you were about to question him, he punched a few things into the keyboard and slid your card into the chip reader.

"Alright," he printed the receipt and stood, handing it over to you.

"Hey..." you stopped him before he could get too far, "You only charged me $100. Isn't it supposed to cost $1,000?"

"Keep your money for Jimin," Namjoon said, giving you a dimpled smile before turning and disappearing into the double doors leading to the hybrids once again.

You stuffed the receipt into your purse and inhaled deeply as you waited for them to come back. The doors were pushed open and you turned around to see Jimin face-to-face for the first time.

He met your gaze for a fraction of a second — long enough for you to get a look at his face. His eyes were a striking amber brown with split pupils — two in each eye. The vibrant color seemed even more so against his black sclera. You could see the faintest sign of fangs poking out from between his lips. He quickly looked down at the floor as he and Namjoon approached you.

"Hi Jimin," you greeted with a smile. He didn't respond to you and you deflated slightly before looking to Namjoon, "Thank you so much. We should probably get home so he can get settled in."

"I think that's a good idea," Namjoon said, placing his hand on Jimin's back to urge him forward. The hybrid easily moved closer to you and you were able to see the wisps of web that were attacked to his hair, clothes, and skin. "Bye Jimin."

Jimin froze for a moment, looking over his shoulder at Namjoon. You watched for a second as Namjoon's eyes grew glassy and it occurred to you that Namjoon was losing Jimin after 10 years. Jimin reached out to place his hand against Namjoon's arm.

"You know..." you paused, making both of them look at you, "You have...my address and phone number on the file now. So...if you want to visit any time...you are more than welcome to. I don't live far from here...just a few blocks. I walked here today."

"Really?" Namjoon brightened up, smiling until his dimples appeared, "I appreciate that. I promise I'll visit you, Jimin, okay?"

The hybrid nodded, a smile of his own appearing — letting you see the sharp fangs in his mouth. The way he smiled caused his eyes to scrunch closed and you couldn't help but smile alongside him. He was cute.

"It's not much..." you mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your little apartment, "There's a spare room you can have but you'll have to share the bathroom with me."

He stood in the entryway, looking around with wide eyes at the living room. His mouth was open a bit and he looked amazed.

"It's...nice," he said, speaking the first words to you. His voice was soft, holding a gentle melody to it.

"Thank you," you smiled, waving him over to follow you, "I'll show you your room."

He eagerly trailed behind you, hot on your heels as you made your way down the small hallway to the last room — right across from yours.

"Is this it?" he asked as you pushed the door open, "My room?"

"Yeah, mine's across the hall," you said, stepping aside to let him step into the room. "It uh...doesn't have a bed but...I saw you didn't have one at the center so..."

"I don't need one," he said, confirming your suspicion, "Is it...alright for me to...web?"

"Um...yeah, it should be," you bit your lip, accidentally meeting his curious gaze.

"Do you not like the webs?" he asked, the happy glow around him vanishing, "I-I won't web anywhere else in the house, I promise. Or...if you think it's gross I can try not to but—"

"Hey, it's alright," you chuckled, shaking your head, "I was just worried that the web might mess up the walls or something. If there's damage then I won't get my deposit back on this place."

"Oh..." he relaxed and looked around, humming, "I don't think it will do anything. It's really soft and it's never pulled paint or anything."

"It should be fine," you waved him off with a smile, "If something happens we can lie or something," he smiled, a soft chuckle leaving his lips, "I'll leave you to do...whatever you gotta do."

"Okay," he said, a smile still lingering on his lips as you stepped out and closed to door behind you.

As you stood in the kitchen, you suddenly realized that you had no earthly idea what Jimin would eat. You hummed, going over your options before deciding you'd just ask him.

He'd been holed up in his room for a couple hours so you hoped it'd been long enough. Stopping at his door, you knocked a few times as you waited for him to answer.

"Come in!" he called and you pushed the door open.

"Whoa," you paused, looking around at the changed room.

There was a thick cave of web in the corner that he was sitting in front of, softly smoothing his hands over. He looked over his shoulder with a smile.

"I got my nest done," he explained proudly, "I didn't get to do anything else but...oh well, I have time."

"Yeah, you do," you nodded, "Hey Jimin...what do you eat?"

His smile disappeared immediately and you were worried you'd offended him somehow but before you could apologize, he spoke up, "What do you eat?"

"Um...mostly ramen or cereal, not really healthy stuff," you shrugged, "I get take out a lot — chicken or pizza."

"I eat whatever you eat," he smiled, nodding his head.

"Are you sure?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, "If you're just saying that because you're worried about bothering me, please don't. I have money saved up specifically for you so if there's anything special you need, Jimin..."

Jimin looked anxious for a second, twirling a piece of his web around his finger, "I really do eat anything you do but...there is something..."

"What is it?" you urged, kneeling on the floor beside him.

"It's really hard to get a hold of and I think it's kind of expensive..." he meekly met your gaze, giving you a small half-smile, "There's a special treat that Namjoon sometimes got for me — it's called SpiderSnack...it has supplements and things in it that...help web production and other stuff..."

"Do you know how to get it?" you asked, which Jimin hummed in response.

"I think there's a website online, Namjoon always told me it was delivered so..." he shrugged, sitting back on his hands, "You really don't have to get it though."

"I have no problems getting it," you smiled, patting his shoulder before standing up, "Now come on and help me decide what to get for dinner."

"Alright," he stood up and quickly followed you out of the room and into the living room.

It didn't take long for Jimin to decide he wanted a cheese pizza, which you happily ordered for him.

Once you were both finished eating, he decided to head back into his room to rest. After bidding him goodnight, you curled up on the couch with your favorite movie playing.

At some point, you'd fallen asleep. However, you were woken up by a soft sniffle coming from beside you. The sound had your eyes fluttering open, frowning as you saw Jimin sitting on the floor watching the TV play.

"Jimin?" you asked drowsily, sitting up.

He looked over his shoulder and you could see, off the reflection from the TV, there were tears on his cheeks, "S-Sorry...did I wake you?"

"What's the matter? Are you okay?" you asked, sitting up and kneeling on the floor beside him. "Why're you crying?"

"I...I don't know," he chuckled humorlessly as he wiped his cheeks, "I was trying to sleep and came out to get a drink and saw you sleeping here...I just...got emotional."

You smiled, placing your hand on his back, "A lot happened today, it's okay."

"Why did you adopt me, ______?" he asked suddenly, turning his teary gaze to you.

You were quiet for a moment, staring into his eyes — his double pupils trembling slightly, "I don't know...I couldn't stop thinking about you when I went home. I woke up that morning and I just knew that...I wanted to have you here with me."

He smiled, more tears falling from his eyes as he leaned forward and engulfed you in a warm hug. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his middle to hug him back.

"I'm so grateful..." he whispered, "No one but Namjoon has ever treated me the way you have. Even if you decide to give me back...I'll be happy because I've now felt kindness from someone."

"I won't give you back, Jimin," you promised, your own voice becoming watery with your tears, "You're here to stay and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Hey...how old are you?" Jimin asked, taking a bite out of his toast.

"22," you replied, jumping when he gasped.

"I'm older than you!" he laughed, fangs glistening in the sunlight.

"Don't let it get to your head," you mumbled, a slight pout evident in your voice.

Jimin laughed happily, his smile contagious.

"Hey, can I watch TV?" he asked suddenly.

"You don't have to ask, go for it," you said as you collected the dishes to prepare for washing them.

Just as you turned on the water, however, your doorbell went off. Jimin was standing in front of the TV, remote in hand as he stared at the door. You noticed the strong frown on his lips and the dark look in his eyes. He watched the door as if he were ready to attack whoever was on the other side.

Opening the door, you gasped when you saw Minah's beaming smile.

"Hey!" she giggled, stepping into the apartment. "Did you—" she froze when her eyes landed on Jimin.

"Um...Minah..." you swallowed nervously, "This is Jimin. I adopted him yesterday."

"You did what?" a look of what you could only describe as disgust crossed her face as she looked at Jimin.

Jimin had lost all light to him, curling in on himself as he kept his head down. You could see his hands were shaking as he held the remote. Your heart ached at the sight.

"_____, this is ridiculous!" Minah cried, turning to you almost angrily, "You got a spider hybrid? What is wrong with you? Who the hell goes to adopt a hybrid and thinks 'hmm gee a gross webbing freak would make a good pet!'"

Before you could say anything, Jimin dropped the remote to the floor and took off down the hallway — slamming his bedroom door shut.

"Minah!" you snapped as you turned back to her, "Just because he's different doesn't mean there's anything wrong with him! He's been called names all his life, I'm not going to let someone come into my house and do it to him!"

"_____, I'm sor—"

"Just save it," you hissed, yanking the front door open as a signal for her to leave.

"You can't be throwing me out over him!" she gasped, offended, "I told you if you got that bug—"

"Just get out!" your words made her flinch and she pursed her lips before storming out.

Slamming the door, you let out a sigh. Running your hands through your hair, you realized you were shaking. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself before making your way down the hallway to Jimin's room.

"Jimin?" you called through the door, tapping on it a couple times. He didn't answer and you sighed, "I'm coming in, okay?"

He still didn't respond and you pushed the door open. You jumped when your face was met with wisps of web. Waving your hand in front of your face, you broke the strands and stepped inside the room.

It was basically fully webbed and it felt almost like cotton beneath your feet — soft and fluffy. Making your way across the room, you stopped at the opening to his nest, kneeling down to peer in.

He was sitting down, knees drawn to his chest as he cried. Your heart ached at the sight and you sighed.

"Jimin..." you reached inside the nest to touch him but were met with a sudden, sharp slap that had you retracting your hand. You hissed in pain, bringing it to your chest as the skin burned from the impact.

"I should have known you were just like the rest!" he hissed, the glare on his face was nothing short of hateful.

"Wh-What're you talking about?" your own eyes becoming teary. You felt hurt that Jimin had hit you and was now speaking and looking at you like he couldn't stand you.

"Bringing your friend over to make me feel like shit!" he snapped, a curse surprising you, "I know you think I'm just a disgusting little insect you can step all over but I'm not!"

You gasped, flinching when he shouted the last word. Quicker than you could react, he was shooting from the entrance, knocking you to the side as he stood above you. His shoulders were heaving with anger but there were still tears falling from his eyes.

"Jimin—"

"Don't!" he shouted, shaking his head, "You're just like every other human. You're never going to accept me...I should have known you could never love me..." his anger seemed to dissipate as quickly as it appeared, "I'm not a cat or a dog but...I feel just like they do. Why...why aren't I deserving of affection and care like they are? I always have to watch normal hybrids go to good homes and find someone who will hug them and make them happy. I thought," he paused as a sob broke through his lips, hanging his head, "I thought I could be like that but instead I get stuck with a bitch who thinks it's fun to hurt me for a good laugh!"

Your mouth fell open at the insult, unable to say anything as he turned his back to you. Scrambling to your feet, you breezed past him, pulling the door shut behind you before going into your own room to cry.

The impact Jimin had on you was incredible. In just a day, you already felt nothing but love for him. But in the same amount of time, you'd managed to become the source of hatred. His words continued to bounce around your head as you stayed holed up in your room. Your phone went off, showing a few texts from Minah but you ignored them, intent on letting her know you weren't willing to forgive her for this.

What hurt the most, however, was the guilt you felt over allowing him to be hurt so severely. You'd brought him into your home to make him feel safe and just one thing went wrong and that safe space was shattered for him.

A few days went by with no sign of Jimin. You could hear him leave the room in the middle of the night to get some food or to use the bathroom before he shut himself away once more until the next night. He was doing everything in his power to shut you out and you were too scared to try and corner him. You didn't want to upset him like that again — listening to the way he cried and talked down about himself broke your heart.

He was so wrong, thinking he wasn't good enough to be loved. You wanted to tell him, but there was no way he would listen to you.

You sat on the floor of the living room, typing away on your laptop as you had an essay due for your class. You were on a roll when the doorbell ringing broke you out of your groove. Sighing, you got to your feet and opened the front door.

There was nobody at the door, however, instead there was a package sitting on the floor. Bending down, you scooped it up and brought it inside, kicking the door shut with your foot before bringing the package to the kitchen. With the help of the scissors, you managed to slice the tape and pull the cardboard flaps open.

The words SpiderSnack popped out in bright red letters and you smiled. Pulling it from the box, you took a look at it. Inside the bag looked similar to Chex Mix.

Tapping your fingers on the counter, you debated what you could do. You took a look down the hallway. He most likely wouldn't answer if you knocked on the door.

He would come out later that night, however. Taking a sticky note from the magnetic ones that were on your fridge, you wrote a quick note and stuck it onto the bag.

An olive branch, perhaps.

Smiling, you went back to your computer to attempt to complete your essay.

Entering the kitchen the next morning, you paused when you saw the SpiderSnack still sitting on the counter. The sticky note had been pulled off, crumpled, and tossed away like trash. You bit your lip to keep your tears at bay as disappointment washed over you. Attempt apparently not accepted.

You were laid in bed, watching a stupid reality TV show to pass the time as you had no desire to be up for the day. Suddenly, your phone being to angrily buzz from its place on the nightstand. Jumping, you snatched it up to see an unfamiliar number calling. Swiping to answer, you brought it up to your ear.

"Hello?" you asked through a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

"_____! It's Namjoon," you froze and sat up.

"Oh...hey, Namjoon," you winced at how stiff you sounded.

"How is Jimin doing?" the dreaded question had you casting your eyes downward in shame. How were you meant to tell the man that entrusted you with Jimin that you'd essentially broke his heart, "Is something the matter?"

"I..." before you could get any further, you burst into tears. Namjoon hurriedly spoke from the other side, urging you to calm down and tell him what was going on. After a moment of you attempting to get your breathing under control, he fell silent.

"You regret it, don't you?" his voice was dark, "Thought you wanted him and now you realize...you're trapped with a creepy hybrid you don't actually like as much as you thought you did."

"No!" you cried out immediately, your own volume startling you, "Th-That's not it at all! I just...something went wrong and now he just...he won't come out and I'm pretty sure he can't stand me now."

"What happened?" Namjoon asked, sounding less angry than he did a second ago.

"My friend came over...she got mad that I chose to get Jimin instead of another hybrid," you explained, sniffling as another wave of tears came over you, "She started saying awful things in front of Jimin and now he thinks I set him up for that."

Namjoon sighed, "What'd she say?"

Um," you thought back, "She called him a freak...I can't really remember it, Jimin and I got into a fight afterwards."

"He's rightfully upset," Namjoon's words had a sob breaking from your lips.

"I know...I-I'm so sorry, I didn't think it through. I-I was so caught up in-in getting him settled I forgot to let anyone know," you explained tearfully, covering your mouth as your breathing stuttered slightly, "Maybe I should just...give him back..."

"That would only hurt him more," Namjoon said, "Jimin's more fragile than he looks and when he's hurt he gets tunnel vision...he only wants to see what he thinks it the truth and refuses to listen to anything otherwise. I don't think giving him up is the right thing to do."

"He's only miserable here now," you mumbled, "He stays in his room all day and only comes out for a few minutes each night. It's not fair for him to live like that so he can avoid me."

"I see..." he fell silent once more, "I'm going to hang up now. Please call me when you've made a decision."

Before you could reply, he hung up and you were left with just the TV once more. You buried your face in your hands and cried out everything you needed to before laying back down to try and nap.

You heard a door creak open, rousing you from sleep. Your eyes burned as you opened them, feeling swollen from crying. Sitting up, you realized the TV was still on and night had fallen. You'd slept the day away.

Sighing, you grabbed the remote and began channel surfing for something more interesting to watch as you flicked the lamp on. It was going to screw your sleep schedule up but you didn't feel like sleeping anymore.

As you sat against the headboard, holding a pillow in your lap, you heard three delicate knocks on the door. Your heart stuttered in your chest and you called for him to come in.

He pushed the door open slowly before peeking his head inside, the mop of purple hair untamed and hanging in his face.

"I saw...your lamp turn on..." he said as he stood in the doorway anxiously.

"Ah...couldn't sleep," you explained, shrugging your shoulders.

It felt so tense and awkward around him now and that broke your heart. You bit your lip to keep yourself from breaking into tears again. Jimin slowly approached the bed, weight causing the floorboards to creak beneath him. He was silent as he stood beside you, running his tongue over his fangs.

"Please don't send me back," your head snapped up when you heard him whimper out the words. "I-I heard you on the phone...I'm sorry, ______. I'll do anything, I don't want to be put in that room again to have people stare at me like I'm a freak show."

"Are you sure?" you asked, your own tears breaking free, "I don't want you to have to live with me when you hate me."

"I don't hate you!" he cried, tossing his head back in frustration, "I'm such an idiot."

You watched as he reached up to knock himself on the head with his fist. Reaching up, you grabbed his wrist to stop him, causing him to look at you before sobbing.

"Th-The first person who takes me in and I-I go and ruin it," he whispered, breathing stuttering, "I knew I didn't deserve this."

"Jimin..." you tugged on his wrist so he would sit down on the bed with you, "I don't want you to go either. I-If you'll stay then I want you here."

He paused, meeting your gaze before wrapping you up in a sudden hug, "I want to stay here with you for as long as you'll have me. I'm happy here and I love you."

"I..." you smiled, burying your face in his neck as you smiled, "I love you too, Jimin."

The two of you exhausted yourselves from crying and you both decided to lay down. You reached over and turned off the lamp, snuggling beneath your soft fleece blanket with Jimin pressed against your side. You were pleasantly surprised by how warm he was.

"_____," he said, voice vibrating in his chest where you head lay, "I'm so sorry..."

"Hm? For what?" you mumbled sleepily, vision blurring as you watched the TV. His heart was faster than a humans and calming to listen to.

"I...I hit you and I shouldn't have done that," he said, his hand finding its way around your waist, "And I had no right to call you a bitch. I was angry but there's no excuse so I'm sorry."

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's okay, Jimin. I forgive you."

Things seemed to calm down quickly and you fell back into an easy rhythm. You were happy to find Jimin eating out of the SpiderSnack that you had bought him.

"I really appreciate this, you know, ______," he said with a mouth full, "I'm sorry I didn't eat it earlier I just..." he sighed, "I felt bad for how I treated you and it felt wrong for me to take these."

"It's okay," you reassured, patting his back as you sat down with a bowl of cereal, "As long as you can eat it now."

You and Jimin dissolved into a conversation about the dream he'd had the previous night, wondering if he could look up the meaning of it. Just as you pulled out your phone to open google, your doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," you said, missing the anxious look on Jimin's face as you made your way to the door.

Pulling it open, you were pleased to see the glasses-clad face of Namjoon. He smiled sheepishly, hands tucked into his pockets.

"Hey! Come on in!" you grinned, opening the door wider, "Hey Jimin! Namjoon is here!"

There was a momentary pause before you heard the loud scrape of Jimin's chair being pushed back. His hurried footsteps grew louder until he came into view with a huge grin on his face.

"Hey Jimin!" Namjoon greeted, opening his arms as Jimin threw himself towards him for a hug, "How are you doing?"

"I'm great," Jimin breathed as he stepped back, "How are you?"

"Really good," Namjoon replied, nodding his head, "It's really good to see you. I really hope you don't mind me stopping by. I had you address from the adoption form."

"No, it's perfectly fine," you smiled, closing the door before motioning the man to come inside, "We were just eating breakfast. Would you like anything?"

"No, I'm fine thank you," Namjoon said, taking a seat on the couch.

"_____ found SpiderSnack for me," Jimin blurted out excitedly, making Namjoon smile.

"Really? That's great, now you can gorge yourself on it," he teased, making the hybrid laugh.

The atmosphere became one even brighter with the appearance of Namjoon. You could tell how happy he made Jimin and you felt thankful that Jimin at least him him outside of you.

As you stood in the kitchen, eating your cereal to give them some time alone, an idea came to mind and you smiled.

When it was time for Namjoon to leave, you asked to speak privately with him. As you stepped out and shut the door, you met his gaze.

"Do you think it'd be a good idea to introduce him to others...you know — get him some friends," you asked, flushing when he smiled.

"I think it'd be a good idea," he nodded, "Either your own trusted friends or some hybrid friends. There's lots of groups that actively get together in the community for hybrids to get to know one another."

"Really? Other hybrids don't...think badly of him?" you asked, frowning.

"Not typically," Namjoon replied, "They're typically quite uncaring of other hybrids' species...all they really care about is that they're hybrids as well."

"Alright," you smiled, "I have some friends with hybrids of their own. I'll meet with them and see if I can set something up."

"It's a good idea to slowly introduce them," Namjoon advised, "Too many new faces and scents could freak him out and make him insecure. Just expand his circle slowly and at his own pace, okay?"

"Alright, thank you, Namjoon," you smiled, bidding him goodbye.

When you stepped back inside, you were filled with a new found determination to brighten Jimin's life even more.

Your friend Taehyung and his dog-hybrid Jungkook were the first ones you contacted. They lived nearby and you had worked with Taehyung at a local cafe for about 2 years where a friendship had budded. His adoption of Jungkook was what opened your eyes to the possibility of getting your own hybrid.

"Jimin," you called from the front door, pulling your shoes on as you heard his door open. He came into view with bedhead and tired eyes, "I'm going to see some friends so I'll be gone for a little while, alright?"

"Alright," he yawned, "Be safe."

"I will," you waved him goodbye and left.

"_____!" the overexcited voice of Jungkook had a smile spreading across your face as you walked into the ice cream shop that you'd decided to meet at.

"Hey guys!" you greeted, walking up to the table but pausing when you found them, only to pause at the two new faces.

"I hope you don't mind..." Taehyung chuckled nervously, "I brought a couple friends...Hoseok and his hybrid Yoongi."

"You mentioned you have a new hybrid you're looking to integrate?" Hoseok asked, an almost blinding smile on his face.

"Um yeah, that's right...it's nice to meet you both," you smiled, taking a seat.

"What kind of hybrid is he?" Yoongi asked.

"He's actually a spider-hybrid," you said, watching all four faces turn to that of surprise, "I know it's unusual...but he's really sweet."

"Hey I didn't say anything," Taehyung chuckled, "I've just never heard of a spider-hybrid."

"They're like...crazy rare," Jungkook gasped, leaning forward, "I think they're basically an endangered species of hybrid now. There are so few of them, to be honest, I thought they were extinct."

"How'd you find him?" Hoseok asked in interest, leaning forward.

"I found him at a shelter," you explained, "He'd been there for like 10 years because no one wanted him. People are...surprisingly cruel to him."

"Poor thing..." Yoongi sighed, shaking his head, "I think it's great for you to introduce him to some friends."

"Humans can be so cruel..." Hoseok sighed, shaking his head.

"I guess we could hang out at your place in the future?" Taehyung asked, looking towards you.

"I don't think that's a good idea..." Jungkook mumbled, "He probably won't like having strangers in his space right off the bat."

"How about a park?" Yoongi asked, "If he spent pretty much all his life in that shelter then...I'm sure he'll enjoy being outside for a while."

"You know...I haven't taken him out yet..." you admitted, "Do you think I should?"

"I don't see why not," Yoongi replied, "Expand his world, he may enjoy the bonding with you."

You smiled, thanking them for the advice before you all finally ordered your ice cream.

When you returned home, Jimin was sitting in the living room with a plate of pizza rolls while he watched TV.

"I'm home," you said, closing the door behind you as you kicked your shoes off and hung your jacket up.

"Hey! Welcome home!" Jimin greeted, looking over his shoulder as he stuffed a pizza roll into his mouth, "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah!" you grinned, making your way over to the couch to have a seat.

As you did however, you felt Jimin stiffen beside you. You reached forward and stole a pizza roll, popping it in your mouth with a sigh.

"You..." he turned to look at you, a dark look on his face that sent a chill down your spine, "You smell different."

"Eh?" you raised a brow, looking down at yourself, "I...have a new body wash..."

"No you..." he leaned forward, his nose meeting your neck before he took a slow inhale, "You smell like other hybrids."

"Oh," you smiled, shaking off the flutter in your chest from his proximity, "I met with my friend Taehyung and his hybrid Jungkook and they brought their friends Hoseok and hybrid Yoongi."

"I don't like that..." he growled, running his tongue over his fangs, "I don't like their scents on you, _____..."

"I..." the deep tone of his voice has your heart skipping a beat and you flushed hot in response, "D-Do you want me to shower then?"

He didn't say anything, simply nodding his head. You could feel his gaze burning holes into you until you disappeared down the hallway. When you reached the bathroom, you placed your hand over your heart to steady it as it continued to race.

There was something about sweet, soft Jimin acting so dark and commanding that just had goosebumps rising all over your skin. You quickly decided to jump in the shower before your thoughts could go any further.

Once out of the shower, you towel dried your hair as you made your way to the living room once again. Jimin was still sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees as he gazed at the TV. He didn't seem to notice you and as you looked at him, you couldn't help but admire his features.

A sharp jawline and pretty, plump lips that he mindlessly ran his tongue over up to the soft slope of his nose and pretty eyelashes that fluttered against his cheeks.

You stepped up to the couch, finally getting his attention and he turned to look at you. His eyes traveled up and down your body, as if inspecting you, the golden glow of his eyes making those double pupils even more prominent.

He stood up, gazing down at you intently, making you shudder. Reaching up, he cupped your jaw and roughly turned your face away to expose the column of your neck. He leaned forward, nosing at the skin. Your breath hitched as you felt his lips ghost of your pulse, pausing to inhale deeply there.

"Much better..." he breathed, suddenly pulling back and dropping to the couch with a smile, "Come on, I was just about to watch A Star is Born."

As he patted the seat, you couldn't ignore the flame he'd lit within you. His sudden behavioral change left your head spinning but you took your seat beside him anyway.

"Hey Jimin?" you asked, a few days after that incedent. Jimin hadn't brought it up and you pretended it never happened. The two of you easily fell back into a rhythm.

"What's up?" Jimin asked from his bedroom.

"Do you want to go shopping?" You asked, smiling when you heard his muffled footsteps before his bedroom door opened.

"Really?" he grinned, bits of web stuck to his hair.

"Yeah, come on," you reached up to pull the whisps from his hair before he stepped out.

It was endearing how excited Jimin was as you made the short walk to the nearby shopping district. He had his hands shoved in his coat pockets as he talked animatedly about anything that came to mind.

The place was bustling, you and Jimin having to weave in and out of the many people you passed. Jimin looked around in wonder at all the shops.

"Do you want to stop inside?" you asked as he paused in front of a men's clothing shop, "You haven't gotten any new clothes since you came here..."

"Really? Can I?" he asked, eyes sparkling when you nodded.

You followed behind him into the store, the scent of cologne in the air making you wrinkle your nose. Jimin disappeared into the racks of clothing as he located the hybrid section. You decided to follow his lead, taking a look around to see if anything stood out that you could make gift him.

You reached the back of the store, finding a wall of shoes. You heard muffled voices from up front and you turned around to see the top of Jimin's purple head. Frowning, you realized there was someone in front of him.

As you approached, you could make out the words, "What are you?"

"Um...wh-what do you mean?" Jimin asked timidly.

"Your eyes...they're fucking weird..." the stranger mumbled.

"I'm a uh...spider..." Jimin replied, though you could hear his voice tremble.

"Ew, seriously?" the man, you realized, asked in disgust, "Can you make webs and shit?"

"Hey!" you snapped, making both men look at you. Jimin relaxed in relief and the stranger raised a brow, "Leave him alone."

"This bug yours?" he asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

"Don't call him that!" you spat, breezing past him to grab Jimin's hand, "Come on Jimin."

"Careful and make sure he doesn't end up splattered on a windshield!" the man laughed.

You felt Jimin's hand tighten around yours as you both left the store.

"Jimin..."

"I want to go home," he mumbled, releasing your hand before slowly making his way in the direction of the apartment.

"Okay..." you whispered, trailing behind him.

His form looked so sad, head hung and shoulders hunched. You cursed that man for ruining what could have been a perfectly lovely and fun day for the hybrid.

Once you entered the apartment, he made a beeline for his bedroom but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Don't, Jimin," you sighed.

"Don't what?" he asked, sounded so dejected that it broke your heart.

"Don't shut yourself away," you begged, feeling the prick of tears when he pulled away from you and made his way down the hall once again.

Instead of going into his room, however, he turned and went into your room. A small smile played at your lips in relief before you followed his lead.

He was sitting on your bed, hands folded in his lap when you entered.

"It's just a stupid name...I don't know why it bothers me so much..." he mumbled as you stood in front of him.

"It's okay..." you mumbled, running your fingers through his hand, making him shiver, "Your feelings are always valid, Jimin. If the name makes you hurt then...we just have to find a way for it not to."

"How do we do that?" he asked, looking up at your with teary eyes.

His lashes fluttered as you brushed a stray tear away, "How about we turn 'bug' into something positive?"

"Positive?" a small smile was finally playing at his lips as he looked at you, his glassy eyes shining once more, "What, you going to start calling me a love bug?"

"Jimin the love bug," you cooed, watching how face turn red until he had to break his gaze. You giggled, "Does that make you happy? Being called a lovebug?"

The way he wrapped his arms around your middle, hugging you as he laughed. You couldn't resist wrapping him up in a hug in return.

It had been such a long week and you felt drained. Jimin was bustling about as usual, happy as could be. You were bored, thinking of something to do when your phone went off.

You were elated to discover some of your girlfriends were going out to party.

"Hey Jimin!" you called as you began digging through your closet for something to wear, "I'm going to go out!"

"Huh? Where?" he asked, startling you as he appeared in the doorway of your closet.

"Out drinking with some girlfriends," you said, finally picking out a dress.

"Drinking? Will you be safe?" he asked, following close behind you as you picked a pair of shoes and placed the slowly forming outfit on the bed.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," you reassured, feeling giddy at the idea of going out to have some fun.

Jimin lingered, watching you almost anxiously until you shooed him out so you could get dressed. Keeping your makeup light, you opened the door to find Jimin leaning against his bedroom door.

"Alright, I'll be back late okay?" you said, making your way down the hall as you slid your phone into your purse, "Don't wait up."

"_____..." Jimin whined as you opened the door, making you pause. You could see he wanted to say something but he only sighed and gave you a fake smile before saying, "Have fun."

You did feel bad leaving him alone when it was clear he didn't want you to, but you needed to go out and have fun. You adored Jimin but you needed some time away from him, just some simple girl-time with your friends and drinks.

You got buzzed pretty quickly — not wasted but you were feeling pleasantly buzzed. Naturally, such a state interfered with your inhibitions and logical decision making.

Which is why you ended up bringing a man you'd met at the bar home.

It didn't occur to you, as you kissed the man and let him pin you down to your bed, to think of Jimin. He pushed the hem of your dress up and roughly yanked you close to him, making you squeak in shock.

Pinning your wrists down, he began trailing his lips across your exposed collar bones. Before his hand could reach your panties, there was a low growl that ripped through the room.

"Oh shit!" the man gasped, jumping back in shock at the appearance of Jimin standing in the doorway, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Jimin," you mumbled, sitting up to push the hem of your dress down properly.

"Get out," Jimin snarled, approaching the man aggressively.

"Wh-What the fuck are you?" the man sputtered, scrambling out of your bed as he met Jimin's eyes — his double pupils easily following his every move.

"I...y-you should probably go..." you mumbled from the bed, biting your lip as you watched Jimin bare his fangs in warning to the stranger.

"Y-You're kidding right?" the man scoffed, shaking his head, "Fucking freaks."

With his departure, you were left with a very tense Jimin. His chest was heaving with anger as he stared at you, taking a few easy strides to you.

"Did you enjoy that?" he growled, crawling onto the bed. The way he crawled over you was predatory and you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together in response.

"Wh-What?" you breathed, keening at the feeling of his lips meeting your neck.

"Making me angry," he whispered, "Letting him taint you with his disgusting scent when you know...my scent is the only one you should have on your skin."

"I-I'm sorry Jimin..." you whimpered, your panties growing damper by the second, "I'm drunk I wasn't...thinking straight."

"Right..." he scoffed, the dominance he oozed nearly had you moaning, "I want you to go take a shower, wash his stink off of you and when you come back...I'll make you smell like you should."

He leaned back to let you slide off the bed. The way he scanned over your body, tongue sliding over his bottom lip made you clench pathetically in your panties. As quickly as you could, you made it to the bathroom and haphazardly stripped.

When you stepped back into your bedroom, Jimin was still sitting on your bed. The shower had significantly sobered you up and as you stood in front of him, you felt shy with his dark gaze on you.

"What's the matter?" he asked, a smirk growing on his face as you shifted on your feet, "You look nervous..." he stood up, the way he walked was confident and he had his head held high, "Do I make you nervous, _____?"

"I..." you licked your lips as you looked up at him, "I just really want to touch you."

"Oh?" he chuckled, cupping your chin, "Don't you mean you want me to touch you? Hm?" he leaned closer to you, his nose brushing against yours with his close proximity, "Isn't that why you brought him here? I saw the way you let him treat you, pin you down...is that what you like? You want to be treated roughly?"

Your eyes fluttered as you whimpered in arousal, the very idea of being pinned beneath Jimin's powerful form so tempting. Licking your lips, you met his gaze. You were able to see his eyes so much better and they were so beautiful and unique you could get lost in them.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, breath fanning over your lips. It took a second for you to remember where you were before you quickly nodded.

Then a fraction of a second later, his lips were on yours. The kiss started out soft, like Jimin was taking his time to enjoy his first kiss with you. Quickly, however, it turned hotter until he was licking feverishly into your mouth.

As your mind was occupied with his mouth, he reached up to pull at the hem of your towel. It easily came undone and fell to the floor — leaving you completely naked. You gasped at the cool air against your damp skin. He grinned against your lips and stepped away, leaving you feeling vulnerable.

Those enchanting eyes traveled over every centimeter of exposed skin. The urge to cover yourself was tempting and your fingers twitched by your sides.

“You are…” he breathed, tongue sliding over his bottom lip, “Stunning.”

“Jimin…” you breathed his name and you saw his jaw clenched at the desperation in your voice.

He could hear your heart pounding, could see the way your pupils displayed, and could smell your building arousal. His own cock was hard in his pants, dripping precum and no doubt making a mess.

“On the bed,” he ordered, watching as you scrambled to crawl on.

You turned and sat down, facing him. He grinned, showing those sharp fangs, at the sight of you sitting so prettily — waiting for him. You were under his control, giving your body up for him — trusting him to take care of you. The thought made his cock throb and he released a slow groan.

You bit your lip as he began to approach you, taking his time while keeping his eyes locked on you. When he was within arms reach of you, he inhaled deeply and grinned.

“I can smell how wet you are for me…” he whispered, making your cheeks flush hot.

“Y-You can?” he nodded, reaching up to gently wrap his hand around your throat. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, nosing your neck before inhaling deeply.

“Of course,” he breathed, “My senses are much more acute than yours are…and might I say, you smell delectable.”

“Y-You sound like you're going to eat me,” you whispered, making him pause.

He leaned back and met your gaze, his beautiful eyes trembling slightly as he rested his forehead against yours. Then, his eyes slowly scrunched up and he let out a little giggle that had your heart skipping a beat.

How could he go from taking your breath away with starling dominance to making your heart skip a beat with how utterly endearing he was? But as soon as that cuteness appeared, it vanished again.

“Of course I wouldn't eat you,” he whispered, slowly sinking to his knees, “But I wouldn't say no to a taste.”

You gasped as you were suddenly pushed flat onto your back. Rough hands roughly gripped the back of your knees, yanking you forward with surprising strength before pinning them open.

Your cunt was completely exposed to him and he groaned at the sight. There wasn't even a second for you to feel embarrassed before his tongue was diving between your folds.

The first thing you noticed was how hot his tongue was. The second thing you noticed was the foreign texture — similar to a cat's tongue only much softer. You could feel the barbs slide over your clit, making your hips jump.

Jimin moaned, sliding his tongue against your entrance to collect more of your sweet arousal. His lashes fluttered, enjoying the way you tightened around the intrusion.

Your fingers found purchase in his hair, not pulling but holding on. He grinned against your pussy, using two fingers to spread you open. Pulling back, he watched your hole spasm and your clit twitch in arousal.

“So small…” he whispered, bringing two fingers to your entrance, “How will you take my cock?”

“Fuck…” you gasped as he worked the two digits in. Your eyes rolled back at the light stretch, biting your lip as soon as he started scissoring them.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

“S-So good...another finger, please,” you whined, a beg he quickly abided.

Jimin let out a soft moan of his own as he worked to fit the third digit in. Your walls were squeezing him tightly, trying to suck him in deeper.

“Y-Your tongue, please make me cum, Jimin,” you begged, lightly tugging on his hair.

He groaned at the feeling, the slight pain making his cock pulse. He had never been harder in his life.

Leaning forward, he swirled his tongue around your clit. Your reaction was instantaneous, your back arching as your walls squeezed tight.

He felt your body trembling, tensing and your breathing picking up. Working harder, he worked his fingers inside of you. Suddenly, he hit a spot that had you exploding.

You cried his name, arching so beautifully as you gushed around his fingers. He groaned at the feeling of his fingers becoming soaked in your cum. Diligently, he worked your spasming clit until you were pushing him away from the sensitive bud.

Pulling back, he pulled his fingers from your cunt. Your thighs immediately snapped shut as you trembled, coming down from the high.

He brought his fingers to his lips, enveloping them one by one to lick your cum off of them. He could feel his underwear sticking to his length from the amount of precum he was leaking. His cock ached, desperate to be buried inside of you.

He stood suddenly, gaining your attention once more. You had more or less settled down while he was in his own world. Sitting up, you watched as he stripped.

His shirt was first, dropped to a pile on the floor. Then he pushed his sweatpants down, revealing his boxers. You licked your lips at the sight.

He was big and it made your throb with want.

Finally, he pulled the last article down and he was as bare as you.

His cock was very similar to a humans in shape. It was thicker than any you'd ever taken and it was drooling precum in strings to the floor. Your mouth watered at the sight and you shuffled forward.

Jimin watched you curiously as you grabbed his hip, urging him to the edge of the bed. You looked up at him and wrapped your hand around the base — your fingers not able to touch around him.

He shivered visibly, goosebumps rising all over his skin as he reached out to grab your wrist.

“F-Fuck…” he whimpered.

“Are you sensitive Jimin?” you teased. The glare he shot you sent shivers down your spine.

Leaning forward, you took the thick head of him into your mouth. His head fell backward and he moaned — a long, drawn out moan you'd only ever dreamed of hearing a man make.

You sucked the head of him, mouth already stretched without going any further. His cock was so fat and drooling precum on your tongue with every pulse you could feel of the thick vein on the underside.

Swirling your tongue around him, his breathing hitched you could see his body tense before a bitter taste coated your tastebuds.

Your cunt was soaking by then. He had cum just from you sucking the head of his cock.

When you pulled off, his cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted with his heavy breathing. You swallowed his cum down, the consistency a little more watery than a human’s cum.

Things were still for a moment before you noticed he was still just as hard as before — and leaking more precum. He moved forward, wrapping a hand around your throat to maneuver you into moving you backwards.

You were laying with your head in the pillows, Jimin sitting on his knees. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked himself with a sigh.

“Pull your knees up to your chest, show me your little cunt,” he whispered.

You did as your were told, hooking your hands beneath your knees to pull them to your chest. You were completely exposed, your dripping pussy utterly vulnerable to him.

He shuffled forward, positioning his cock at your entrance before pausing.

“Will you even be able to take me?” he asked, the fat head of him sliding over you sensitive clit.

“Y-Yes please, please give it to me,” you begged, watching the way his length parted your folds.

“Are you sure?” he asked, finally looking up at you, “I don't want to hurt you.”

Your heart fluttered as you smiled, “It's okay, Jimin, it'll feel good.”

He seemed to relax slightly before the tip finding its way to your entrance once again.

Neither of your breathed as he began to sink into you. The stretch burned, your pussy not used to taking something so big. Reaching down, you circled your clit as he stuffed you full.

He watched as more and more of his cock disappeared inside of you. Quickly, he bottomed out — bumping against your cervix. You gasped at the feeling and he pulled back slightly.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, cocking his head to the side curiously.

“A-A little…just don't go all the way, okay?” you asked, making him smile and nod.

Of course he wouldn't do anything to hurt you.

Replacing your hands on the back of your thighs, he pulled out — your juices clung to his cock and made his mouth water. Pushing back in, he was mindful to not go all the way just like you asked him.

Your moans rose in volume and he could feel your body tremble beneath him. His eyes were on the way your cunt was stuffed so fucking full with him. He didn't know how you were even taking him but it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

You were so wet that every movement was mingled with the slick sounds of your arousal. Reaching down, he brushed his thumb over your clit, making your mewl in pleasure. He could feel the way you clenched even harder around him as he circled the bud.

“Jimin...y-you'll make me cum…” you warned, voice wobbly as your body was jostled with the movement of his thrusts.

He looked up at your face finally, your mouth was open and your eyes were glassy with pleasure. You were beautiful and it made his heart flutter.

“Want you to cum,” he whispered, working his thumb in circles as he continued to fuck you. His cock was so big he didn't even have to try to touch your spot — he couldn't avoid it.

He worked you for less than a minute before you were cumming. Your walls spasmed around him and he felt the hot gush of your cum sprinkle across his skin and over his cock. He cursed, his own cock throbbing in pure arousal at the sight of your squirting for him.

Your cries were of pure ecstasy and it sent him to his own high.

You felt him still, his mouth falling open before a low whine escape his lips. His cock pulsed a few times before he was filling you with cum.

You were surprised by how much there was — much more than he'd released in your mouth. It filled your cunt up and kept coming. His cock plugging your entrance made it impossible for it to leak out.

It was hot and you could feel his cock throb with every spurt of cum he released. You felt so full and for some reason it turned you on to be so full of his cum.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, he began to pull out. As expected, his cum gushed out once able to. It leaked to the bed and you mentally cringed as you realized what a mess it'll be to clean.

Jimin seemed transfixed on the way your ruined cunt drooled his cum. He had marked you as his — it was his scent on you now.

“_______…” he whispered, crawling up to cover your body with his.

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, meeting your eyes. You were still obviously recovering but you still reached up to cup his cheek.

“I think...I think I really love you,” he whispered, watching as your eyes widened, “You're the only person who has ever...cared for me. I want to stay with you forever.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, “I love you too, lovebug.”

He beamed at the nickname, pulling back to press his lips against yours. It was soft again, he was pouring every ounce of his love into it.

His touch was soft as he treated you like you were the most precious thing in his life.

And to him, you were. You were his everything.

8K notes · View notes

enigma-im · 4 years ago

Text

Sixth day of Christmas...

Trope: Sex Pollen (NSFW) Relationship: Alien x Human Word Count: 4,639

Living in a science station on a barely explored planet may sound like the start of a horror story. For me, it's a dream come true. To study life on a dwarf planet with a single colleague is the total isolation I crave. It's a real perk that my coworker is such a sweetheart. I've spent countless trips trying to keep my cool around cocky narcissistic scientists whose only goal is to make some profound breakthrough. My coworker this time isn't even remotely like that.

Aziraphale is a Silphurs, a cold-blooded species that has nearly a reptilian look to them. With their horn-like spikes that protrude from the back of their head and long smooth tails, most people quickly label them as lizards. Though they lack scales, to my surprise. When Aziraphel first began working beside me I was fascinated by his smooth dark leathery skin. I promptly weirded him out the first week as I appraised him like a prized pig. It was a habit I slowly grew out of.

Together we work in isolation upon dwarf planet Xena, studying the flora and fauna of this little island in space.

Today we are looking at a new flower that's been popping up around the lakes. It's a small pink crocus looking flower, fit with a thick stem. The wildlife has been swarming these little buds and it's stirred up quite the mystery for Aziraphel and I. with the coming of 'spring' the flowers have sprouted very quickly.

"So you say the mammals have been eating them," I ask, looking at the potted plant.

"Birds too. Though the insects have kept their distance," Aziraphel explains.

I hum in thought," the first plant we found that insects aren't fond of."

Aziraphale plucks a petal off the flower, taking it over to his station. I continue to exam the bud, looking at the roots through the container. All week we have been watching this plant in the wild, utterly fascinated by its attractive properties.

"Could it be the nectar? It may be a tasty treat for the animals," Aziraphel asks offhandedly. I shrug, stepping over the bin holding the plant. Leaning over I give the flower a sniff, admiring its sweet scent.

"Smells like the honey candies my mother use to give me," I say.

"really? I thought it smelled rather musky," he says over his shoulder," I can smell it from here."

I take another whiff, doubling down on my honey candy choice.

"Olfactory senses are a bit different between you and me, it seems," I joke," yours being about a hundred times better than mine."

He scoffs, picking off pieces of the petal," it's a miracle your people survived this long with clearly insufficient senses."

I snort, walking over towards him," bold coming from someone who can't hear when the microwave goes off." he throws a glare my way, his smile ruining its seriousness. I snicker, walking around to begin looking at the cells of this attractive plant.

Staring down in the microscope I take not of the plant cell, watching the cell wall break from the solution I added. The proteins break apart, spilling out the cytoplasm. The organelles follow, breaking at they come in contact with the solution. As I watch, a bead of sweat rolls into my eyes. I wipe my forehead with the sleeve of my coat, groaning at the heat.

"Hey, I know you're cold-blooded and all but I'm dying over here," I call out. I hear him swivel out of his chair and walk over to the thermostat.

"it's only 70 in here, I thought you agreed that was the optimal temperature," he passes me a teasing smile. I swipe at my head again, reaching back and pulling my hair up. Fanning myself with my hand I look to him.

"Well, I'm sweating up a storm over here," I answer.

"don't think you're getting sick, do you?" he walks over. He presses his palm to my head, I relish in the cold. "You're burning up," he reaches down to my cheeks," you're all red." I can't help but turn in his palm, stealing his cold for my own. He doesn't let go, pressing his palms flush to my skin.

"Only this one time will I admit that being cold-blooded has benefits," I press his hand against my forehead.

"fine by me, I get to steal your warmth," he smiles," but I can't stand here all day, I'll get you a cold rag."

I watch him walk away, uncomfortably warm immediately. He grabs and wets a rag, looking strangely appealing as he does. His clothes hug is slim frame well, his pants framing his legs nicely. As he catches me staring I turn away embarrassed. He walks over and places the cold rag on my head. The instant relief nearly makes me groan.

"thank you," I hold the rag for him.

"No problem. Do you want to go back to you're room," he asks, pressing his palm to my cheek again.

"no, no," I shake my head," I'm just a little warm, I think I'll make it." he hums, not really agreeing.

"if you say so, but if you feel worse I'm forcing you to go to your room," he scolds. I roll my eyes, swatting his hand away.

"Ok, mom," I joke," I promise I'll stop working if I get worse."

We get back to work, standing on different ends of the room. I put up my hair and keep the rag on the back of my neck. Sweat soaks through my shirt after a bit, dampening my hair. It's hard to focus on work, losing my breath once in a while. My heart feels like it's racing and I'm prone to dizzy spells when I walk too far. I try to power through.

I sit at my desk, dropping my head to the back of my chair. I try to use the rag to cool my face but it has begun to warm up. Frustrated I toss the useless towel to the table. My heart bangs against my chest and I can't seem to catch my breath. I feel wrong, dizzy, and incomplete. A dull ache begins in my lower stomach, migrating further south till I feel like I'm throbbing. I don't understand this new need, an empty feeling that's starting to make me panic.

Aziraphale walks over to check on me, already concerned as he spots me.

"Are you alright, you do- whooaa," he recoils from my desk, covering his nose. I watch him fidget by the door, looking lost between running and staying put. It's kind of cute.

"What's wrong," I lull my head to the side. He startles, snapping his eyes to me.

"Uh, it just smells rather musky in here," he answers, selecting his words carefully," I think you're sick."

I try to sit up, groaning as I do," yea, I don't feel too well. I should probably go lay down."

"g-great idea," he fidgets," do you, uh, need some help?" I try to wave him off, leaning forward out of the chair. As I stand I sway. I catch myself on the desk the same time Aziraphel grabs at my hips. His cold hands burn through my clothes like a block of ice. It's sharp and intoxicating. I groan, dropping forward against his chest. His body is freezing against my scorching skin, I can't help but run my hands over his neck, cuddling my cheek against him. I feel him gulp.

"Terri," he squeaks," w-what are you doing?" I can't pay attention, too focused on touching every visible bit of him. He is all I can think about, all I need. A small part of me is dying of embarrassment but the comfort is all I can think about.

"Cold," I purr under his jaw. My hands reach up under his shirt, touching his flat stomach. My insides throb as I feel him up, wanting more from him than just his cold skin.

"Terri," he yelps," t-this is- I can't-" he whimpers at the end. His hands grab at my shoulders, not really pushing or pulling. I continue, lifting his shirt to his chest. Pressing my forehead to his sternum I begin pressing soft kisses to his pecs. His leathery skin is so divine, soothing me like nothing else. I crave more, demand more.

Aziraphale is flustered at all the attention, bumbling like a fool as he tries to figure out what to do. He finally tugs me away, taking a step back with a deep breath.

"Terri, what is going on with you," he pants," this isn't like you."

I actively try to fight back the urge to jump him, focusing on staying put. Looking at him becomes too hard that I have to turn away.

"I-I don't know," I say between breaths," I'm so hot and bothered that I can't think straight."

"are you, uh," he hesitates," aroused?"

I snap to attention," excuse me?"

"Sorry," he jumps," it's just you smell…so good." his voice drops at the end, a rumbling purr. The sound shocks straight to my clit, nearly bringing me to my knees. I whimper, fisting the fabric of my pants.

"D-don't do that," I whine," you'll kill me if you do that."

"Sorry," he rubs at his face," let's just get you to your room and you can take a cold bath."

I weakly nod.

He helps me to my room, keeping a distance until I sway. Every time his hands touch me I'm nearly undone, falling into his arms and fighting back the urge to kiss him. It's a long walk to my room.

We make it to my room where we stand around awkwardly. He stays by the door but he doesn't look like he wants to leave. His fingers fidget with his shirt, picking at the ends. I'm hyper-focused on every move he makes, my muscles thrumming with energy.

"Well, I'll leave you to it and try to find out what's wrong," he shifts back and forth on each leg," yes, g-goodbye"

Seeing his back sends a wave of panic over me, forcing me into action. I jump for him, snatching him by the shirt and tugging him towards me. In a haze, I grab his face and force his mouth against mine. It's forceful and harsh, his teeth nick at my bottom lip. At this moment…it's intoxicating.

I pull back, looking at his wide-eyed face. He looks at me, scared and excited. I huff.

"Don't go," I beg. He nods," will you help me?" he nods again.

I tug him into the room, him closing the door behind himself. We stare at one another, the calm before the storm. Quickly I jump on him, wrapping my arms and legs around his body. I pull him into another kiss, grabbing at the spikes on the back of his head. His hands hold the back of my thighs, eagerly trying to kiss me back. It's clear he has no experience with this, just following my lead the best he can. Either way, it's making my lower stomach ache.

He fumbles his way to the bedroom, bumping into the bed with a grunt. I'm dropped onto my back, him crawling on over me. I tear at his clothes, petting at every newly revealed inch. He tries to get my shirt off but he's just getting in the way. Frustrated, I push him off and onto his back. I straddle his hips, throwing his shirt off in a rushed frenzy. He sits back and lets me work.

I crave to lick every bit of his chest, nibbling and sucking the cold leathery skin. My hips grind against him, feeling a hard protrusion poking at me. There's so much I want, I need, to do to him. I kiss up his body before slanting my lips against his. My tongue peaks between his lips, startling him. He timidly presses his against mine, groaning as I twirl mine with his.

I don't notice one of his hands sneaking between us. Only when he slides his fingers into my pants do I whimper in his mouth. He palms at my crotch, getting his bearings before he slides between my lips. The curious prod to my engorged clit makes my back arch. His gentle poke is nearly enough to break me apart. He slides the pad of his finger over me, I tear myself off his lips and bury my head against his neck.

"P-please," I huff and puff. He pets me, paying attention to my little nub with laser focus. I writhe and wiggle, whimpering and whining near his ear. My body feels on fire, ready to burst with minimal attention. A few more swipes and I'm crying out his name. I'm grinding hard into his hand, forcing his touch till I get my fill.

As my bucking slows Aziraphel tries to take his hand back. I flatten my body against him, trapping him with a growl.

"Do you feel better," he whispers, his trapped hand petting at my stomach.

" a-a little," I trace my nose under his jaw," it's still too hot." he hums in thought.

Before I know it I'm twisted on my back, Aziraphel between my legs. His eyes are focused, calculating, as he reaches for my pants and tugs them down my legs. Tossing the clothing aside he lays on his stomach between my legs, staring at my soaked cunt. I flush at his attention, aroused and nervous at the same time.

"What a-are you doing," my stomach twitches as the urge to buck towards him is strong. He grabs my hips, holding me still as he studies me.

"I have an idea," he mumbles. I whimper as I take in the whole sight, Aziraphel laying between my legs without his shirt. He tears his eyes from my pussy to me, softening slightly at my debauched face. His thumb pets at my hips as he gives me a sweet smile. I whine again.

Aziraphale looks back to my cunt, lowering his head and taking a tentative lick up my seam. My back arches as a moan tears up my throat. He takes another more confident lick, touching at my entrance and clit. I feel dizzy. More certain he presses his lips to mine and laps at my cunt. I wriggle and buck in his hold, clenching my eyes shut against the pleasure. It's hot and lava-like. His tongue is warmer than his body but cold to me. It's erotic and holy to my needy cunt.

I peek down at him, watching him eat me out. His thumb still pets at my hips, adding a small bit of appeal alongside his mouth. His eyes are closed, pleased hum vibrating into his tongue. He seems to enjoy this as much as me, his tail lazily swinging back and forth down the bed. Watching him is enough to push me over the edge, reaching down and grinding his head against my crotch. He groans with me, nearly purring as I shout out my pleasure.

He stops as I fall back into the bed, releasing his head in favor of fisting my hair. I take a moment to catch my breath, watching the lovely sight of him crawling back over me. He pets at my thigh, rubbing soothing circles against my skin.

"You feeling better," he asks. I shrug, getting distracted by the throbbing tent in his pants. The thing moves with every breath, begging me to grab him with a single-minded focus. I reach for his belt, trying to tug him forward. He swipes my hand away.

"No, we aren't doing that," he scolds," I got to let myself have some morals here. I'm already taking advantage of you." I pout, ready to try to persuade him. He distracts me with a finger between my legs, prodding at my entrance before sinking in. I grunt, damn near purring as he adds another.

The day is spent in utter bliss. He takes good care of me, not leaving me wanting for too long. He keeps his pace till I'm passed out in the sheets, feeling cooler than I did earlier. It seems all it took was some beautiful orgasms to soothe this beast.

I wake up the next morning alone, feeling sore but sated. I don't know if the fact that I'm alone should be good or bad. Heading off to the bathroom I try to convince myself that's it's for the best. I don't even know how I'll face him today, remembering how I jumped him like some uncontrollable whore.

The morning in the lab is…tense. He tiptoes around me and I can't help but do the same. The conversation is kept so single sentence answers. We both try to stay out of the other's way, even making up excuses to be on the opposite side of the room.

I sit in my little cubicle with my desk, trying hard not to look out to the lab and watch Aziraphel. It's a losing battle. I watch him walk by the crocus flower, pausing for a moment. He leans over the bin and takes a tentative sniff. He chuffs, scratching at his nose.

"Terri," he calls out," I think I figured something out."

A bit too eager I hop out of my chair and head over to him. My body thrums slightly the closer I get. Before I can stop next to him he grabs me by the shoulders and guides me away from the bin. I allow him, confused all the while.

"We should put the flower in a contained area," he suggests, meeting my eyes for the first time today. My thoughts come back to now, caught off guard by his suggestion. d "What," I ask. He flusters a bit, looking over to the flower then back at me.

"Well, you see," he stumbles, petting at the back of his neck," I think.. Perhaps the…" his shoulders sag. "The flower kind of smells like how you did yesterday and I'm almost convinced it's what made you sick," he finally spits out. I gawk at him, thinking back on yesterday's events. That morning I took a whiff of the flower, not thinking much of it, and shortly after started getting symptoms. It's a fair guess, perhaps even the correct answer.

"I think you might be right," I huff in amusement," it explains why the animals have been eating it. Spring is mating season."

"I feel rather silly now having to lock away a plant," he laughs," a rather potent aphrodisiac to mammals and birds. Makes sense why it didn't work for me." I chuckle along with him, it dying off back into an uncomfortable silence. It's clear he's uncomfortable with what happened yesterday. Hell, I am too. But there is no reason we can't be adults about this.

As we awkwardly shuffle in place, I speak up," hey, about last night. I'm sorry I came onto you like that, I put you in an uncomfortable position."

"No, no," he waves his hands," don't need to apologize, you couldn't help it. I know that wasn't really you and I won't hold that against you."

"yea," I fiddle with my hands," we can just pretend it didn't happen, and go on like before." he nods, looking to the floor in thought. With the situation settled I'm left a bit lost for what to do.

"yea," he still nods," I don't think I can do that." I startle at his words, a cold feeling sinking into my gut.

"W-what," I stutter. He looks up from the floor, seeming rather serious.

"I want to pretend that what happened didn't happen, more for my sake than yours. I'd like to be able to look at you and not see your face twisted up in pleasure as you cum on my tongue. It would be easier if I didn't, but at the same time…I really want to see that face again, " he takes a step forward," Terri, I liked what happened yesterday. I liked doing that thing with our mouths, I liked touching you and holding you. I hated how it came to be and I hated how you didn't have a choice, but I loved doing those things to you. I would give anything to do it all again, with actual consent and want from you instead of that drugged up lust. I want you, Terri, I really want you."

His confession feels like being punched in the gut. It's not what I could ever expect from him. We've worked together for nearly a year now and not once did he hint at wanting to be more than friends. We have a good relationship working together and I'd dare say I enjoyed his company. Now…now everything is different. I can't look at him as a coworker or even a friend. Even now all I can see when I look at him is his face buried between my legs, eyes closed and humming in bliss.

"I don't know," he takes a step back," a lot happened yesterday and you may honestly want to pretend it didn't happen. I can respect that and go on if it bothers you. I didn't want to agree if there was a chance to…never mind, I'm sorry." I watch him turn around to retreat, fidgeting and scolding himself. The sight plucks at my heart.

Taking a few rushes stepped forward I grab him and tug him around. I cup his cold cheek and drag him into a sweeter kiss than our first. He's still untrained and uncertain but he gives it his all as he wraps his arms around me. His attempt is cute, pulling a smile up to my cheeks till I have to part.

I pet at his cheek," it's called a kiss and I would love to do more of those with you."

His sharp teeth peak through his lips," a kiss. I'm a fan."

He tugs my against him again, twisting us and lifting me onto the table. I'm didn't expect to consummate our choice now but I'm not going to argue. He smirks up at me, fitting himself between my legs. Before he can go in for another kiss he glances off to his left. I follow his gaze to the flower.

"Nope," he picks me up off the table, taking me to another end of the lab," I'm not doing that again." I bark out a laugh, teasing the edges of his spikes as he sets me down on another table. He quickly pulls me back into another kiss.

Our rush is exciting, though less frantic than yesterday. He discards my shirt, not paying any mind to my breast as he pets down my stomach and licks at my shoulder. His fingers pluck at my pants buttons, tearing them down to my ankles as I frustratedly tug at his shirt.

With him distracted with my cunt I finally get to grab at his crotch. He throbs in my hand, his cock mysteriously wiggling. Curious, I pull him out of his pants. I'm excited but confused with what I see.

His bright red cock is writhing in my palm, the tip twirling around my fingers. It looks like it came from a slit, emerging from his body eagerly. I squeeze him, fascinated by the pre leaking out his pores. He shutters, slapping his hands on either side of me.

"Please," he whimpers," I couldn't relieve myself last night and I may go mad if you try to tease me now."

I snicker at him, tugging him gently forward and nudging him against me. Letting him go and wrapping my arms around his shoulders I leave him to lead. He takes a breath, reaching down and grabbing himself. We both watch as his tip pokes and prods till it finds my entrance. His cock makes me shiver as it begins to wiggle frantically inside me. He pushes on, seething as he bottoms out. He shutters, letting out a shaky breath as our hips touch.

"what blessed torture is this," he pants, almost wheezing. I bite back a snicker, petting at his head in support. He shutters again.

His hips begin to buck, moving in short little bursts before growing in length. The feel of his cock is blessed, something I've craved since yesterday. He begins to plow into me, a wet slap sounding from where we meet. My thighs feel sticky, the thought of it not being only my slick passes by. An odd little tingle starts deep inside me, growing the more he slams into me. I gasp, tugging him close as a sudden burst of pleasure shocks up my spine.

Aziraphale licks up my neck, rumbling with a growl as he clenches my hips. He ups his tempo, shocking my body to attention. I cry out into the lab, nearing my end with the sudden fire growing because of him. My stomach clenches, sitting at the blissful peak for almost too long. It almost hurts when I cum, clenching around his still pumping cock.

"Shit," he digs his nails into my hips. He bucks into my fluttering heat, milking me for all I'm worth till he barks out a cry. His face buries against my neck as he cums, fluids puddling on the table. He pumps a few times before stilling inside me, his cock pulsing with his release. I pet at his back and kissing him on the cheek. He shutters more, taking a bite of my neck. His hips buck some more, surprising me with his movement. He continues to pulse, more fluids showering my insides.

"Are you still cumming," I ask in awe. He doesn't answer. His teeth dig into my skin along with his nails.

I sit back and let him take his fill, a little glad when he finishes. He releases my neck, giving it a lick before leaning back. Our eyes meet and I can see the content in his smile. He looks happy, sated, and cute. I pet at his cheek.

"You didn't warn me about the mess," I joke. He scoffs, pulling out and watching his cum leak out of me.

"It didn't occur to me," he answers. Reaching forward he thumbs at our mixed fluids, grabbing a bit and bringing it to his mouth. Licking the drop off he hums. "delicious," he smirks. I push at his shoulder, chuckling as I hop off the counter. He helps, keeping me steady.

I look back at the counter, wincing at the cum dripping off the edge. "Little glad it's just the two of us here," I half-joke.

"I might be glad too," he wraps his arms around my waist," could work with fewer clothes now."

I shake my head, amused with his suggestion. There's no way I'll be doing that but it's a little flattering that he would want to see me naked again. I grab his spikes and tug him down for a kiss. He growls, tugging me closer, and palming my rear. His tongue laps at my lips, delving into my mouth with the smallest bit of acceptance.

"You wanna go again," he mumbles against my lips. I hum, petting up his chest.

"I think we should move the flower before we try anything else," I answer. He pouts, looking behind himself to glare at the cursed plant.

"Yea, probably have to deal with that," he grumbles.

"yea, I'm not allowed near it," I shrug. He twists back around, grinning down at me.

"I prefer you not drugged, thank you very much," he kisses my forehead," this is way better than yesterday anyway."

I hum with a big goofy grin on my face.

Yea, I liked this way better.

#12 days of christmas #12 tropes for christmas #sixth day #Enigma-IM #exophilia #monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #pollen

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