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thetomorrowshow · 3 years

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unless you take your army back ch. 2

First chapter - Read on AO3!

This chapter is a lot longer than I thought it was that’s my bad

cw: blood, intense depictions of injuries, food, flashbacks

When Crutchie woke, it was with a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He knew that while he was not waking up from a nightmare, he would be waking into one. Another day either working hard for nothing or locked in a tiny closet, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Something was different, though. For one thing, he wasn’t quite sure where he was. He was on something soft, which couldn’t count as any surface in the Refuge. Not only that, but he didn’t feel squished or anything. There wasn’t anyone else near him, which crossed off the idea that he’d been dragged back to the room full of boys, but there was plenty of room to stretch out, so definitely not in a closet.

Maybe he had died.

As he became more aware of his body, though, he still felt pained--so probably not dead. He used to visit a church when he’d been on the streets by himself, less for concern of his mortal soul and more for the communion wafers and occasional Sunday afternoon luncheons, but he’d listened to what had been taught there. Apparently, if he died and went to Heaven he’d be healed. He had to be going to Heaven, right? He’d been baptized as a baby, after all. He didn’t really believe in it these days, but that didn’t mean he was a bad person.

He would’ve continued wondering about the fate of his soul had he not tried to flex his fingers and found both hands immobile--not because of the pain in them, but because his fingers were all wrapped up. So was his left arm, actually, which was distantly throbbing.

Reluctantly, Crutchie forced his eyes to open, grimacing at how crusty they felt. Light flooded his vision and he closed them almost immediately, then opened them a pinch.

He had no clue where he was. All he could see was a wooden ceiling. How was that supposed to help him?

It smelled sort of familiar, but it was also silent, aside from a bird chirping outside the window--which was right beside him. Actually, as he took a bigger breath (not too big, his chest was all tight and achy), he recognized something small--and then so many things, all in the scent of the air.

This was the lodging house, and with it, the smell of the soap they all used, Race’s cigar, newspapers, coffee, sweat, and that weird cologne that Jack and Romeo sometimes spent a few pennies on. He was home.

Crutchie let out a sigh. He was exhausted. Maybe he could just go back to sleep.

“Crutchie?”

So much for that idea. Crutchie shifted his vision a little, wincing as his neck cramped. Jack was sat there beside him, charcoal pencil frozen where it was poised on a paper. He looked okay, aside from a black eye. He also looked scared, for some reason, almost guilty. What had happened? Why was Crutchie at the lodging house? Why did Jack look like he was hiding something?

Crutchie decided to not bring it up at the moment, but couldn’t stop wondering. He didn’t remember all of what had happened since he’d been awoken the other morning by the Refuge kids with a cup of water, but he had vague recollections of beatings and closets and being trapped under the floor. He could also remember seeing Katherine, but that part might have been a hallucination. More importantly, he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here and what had made Snyder let him go. If Jack had traded someone--

“How’re ya feeling?” Jack asked, and Crutchie could hear his words dripping with fatigue. He wondered how long he’d been out, that Jack had been sitting at his side for.

Crutchie opened his mouth, lips cracking, and paused at the pain that came when he tried to make his voice work. Something was up--Synder, chokin’ you, his brain reminded him. Also no water, dummy. They does that to a voice.

As if Jack knew what he was thinking, he shot up, the paper falling and pencil rolling away. “Gotcha some water waitin’,” he said, taking a few steps out of Crutchie’s line of sight and returning with a tin cup and a bowl. “Also had one o’ the fellas grab some soup from the sistas, so you can has somethin’ ta eat.” He frowned down at the bowl. “It ain’t too warm now, but it should still taste all right.”

Crutchie had the feeling that he ought to smile in thanks, but just couldn’t. He couldn’t even fathom lifting his cheeks that much--they felt oddly large and heavy. His head was pretty cloudy, anyway. It probably wouldn’t even be able to send the instructions to his mouth. Jack held the cup to his lips and he drank--the water was a bit warm, but far better than nothing--begrudgingly, wishing he could hold it himself.

As soon as all the water was gone, Jack was digging a spoon out of his pocket, preparing to feed him. If he had the energy, Crutchie would’ve sputtered in indignation. He could feed himself, thank you very much! He hadn’t let no one feed him except his mother, and that was too long ago for him to remember (he casually shoved down the image of Harley feeding him bites of sandwich, back at the Refuge).

“I can feeds myself,” he croaked out, feeling just that small movement of his mouth stretch his cheeks farther than normal. They must’ve been pretty swollen. Some of the anxious creases around Jack's eyes smoothed out.

“I know ya can,” Jack said, relief evident in his voice. “Lemme help ya sit up, then.”

Crutchie wanted to sit up himself, but he conceded this to Jack. He had to pick his battles, especially when he was so tired.

He gasped when Jack buried his arm under his back, the lashes and memories of them barraging him with agony. Jack pulled away as if he was the one who had been whipped, watching him warily. Crutchie scrunched his eyes closed, trying to stop a tear that was threatening to slip out. He wasn’t weak. He had to show Jack that he could do this.

“Want--want me to, uh, pull ya up by the arm?” Jack offered, and Crutchie nodded jerkily. That sounded bearable; his right arm wasn’t hurt all that bad.

As soon as Jack touched him, though, fear stole Crutchie’s breath. Images of thugs gripping his wrist and dragging him along on dirty floors filled his mind, and he cowered, pulling his body as close together as he could.

Someone was speaking, and Crutchie was about to ignore it until he realized the price he might pay for not following orders. His eyes shot open, his heart racing with a frenzy that seemed to pound on his broken ribs.

“--okay? Kath said your ribs got beat pretty bad, an’ it might be hard for you ta sit up. You good, Crutch?”

That was Jack. That was Jack speaking, and he wasn’t in the Refuge, he was at the lodging house. He just sat up to eat some soup. He was safe.

No matter how many times Crutchie repeated those words to himself, he couldn’t let go of the dark halls of the Refuge, the stink of the guards’ cigars, the pain that was coming at any moment.

“I’s fine,” he gritted out, forcing himself to meet Jack’s eyes. “Jus’, yeah, little bit o’ pain.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so just let it hang in the air between them.

Eventually, Jack helped him form his right hand around the bowl as steady as possible, then stabilized it as he brought it to his lips and drank. It bumped against his cheeks uncomfortably. It was little more than broth, and lukewarm, but Crutchie was grateful for it all the same. The taste of it alone nearly made him sob--the flavor was just so much--but he held it in.

Jack made him drink over half of the bowl before letting him lay back down, which was a much quicker operation than sitting up had been. When he was settled back in the bed, full to bursting and a little more clear on what was happening, he finally asked one of the questions that had been on his mind since he woke.

“Jack? What happened?”

Jack shifted from foot to foot. “With what?”

Crutchie sighed, pulling down his shirt a little to see what was under it. A lot of bandages and some bruises was the answer. “The strike, I s’pose.”

“Right, the strike.” Jack sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “Uh, well, we won.”

Crutchie’s heart leaped. They won? Against Pulitzer, and Wiesel, and the Delanceys, and Snyder, and all the police officers? Once again, he felt that he should smile, but just couldn’t find the energy. “Wow,” he said instead, swallowing around the pain in his throat. They had won. “How’d you get me out?”

There wasn’t an answer from Jack for a long time, and after a moment Crutchie looked over at him. He was looking down, cap in his hands, twisting it around anxiously.

“Governor Roosevelt,” he said, not looking up. His voice was unreadable. “Kath got him ta shut down the Refuge, for good. Ain’t nobody goin’ back there.”

Wow. They really won. How had that even happened? Crutchie couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that there would be no more Snyder chasing kids on the street. There had to be someone, right? Someone else who wanted to hurt kids for the fun of it?

“Y-you awake, buddy?”

Crutchie blinked, realizing his eyes had closed. “Yeah,” he whispered. Jack was watching him again, his eyes red. “Jus’ . . . jus’ tired.” And he was. He felt like if he didn’t sleep soon, he might just fade away. Even now, he wouldn’t be surprised if he slept for a week straight. He was so tired.

“Sleep, nitwit. Ya gots the time.”

Crutchie gladly accepted the invitation.

“Shh! Ya don’t want ‘im wakin’ up, do ya?”

“A little bit, yeah!”

“We wants to see ‘im!”

Crutchie groaned. The voices quieted down for a second with a few hushed gasps and shushes, then started up again when he made no effort to move. This bed was almost unbearably comfortable.

“C’mon, Jack! He’s practic’ly a’ready awake.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t. He’s restin’, he don’t need you lot tirin’ him out.”

“It’s our room too.”

“Yeah! You has to let us in, who put you in charge?”

“. . . You’s all did, Romeo.”

Crutchie snorted through his nose, then opened his eyes. He still felt bone tired, but a little like he could function. He turned his head, slowly this time, to see Jack a few feet away, holding back a good dozen newsies. Once they saw him moving, their faces lit up excitedly. Elmer pointed, hopping a little bit, and Jack looked over his shoulder to meet Crutchie’s eyes.

Immediately, he dropped his defenses and rushed to Crutchie’s side. He produced a tin cup from nowhere--and a different one from earlier?--and pushed it to his lips. “Hey, Crutch. How ya feelin’?”

Crutchie sipped and rolled his eyes, coughing a little when that sent a headache pounding. “Bit better,” he managed through his swollen jaw, pulling away from the drink. “Why’s my arm not workin’?”

Jack’s face flashed guiltily. “‘S broken,” he said, brushing hair out of Crutchie’s face. “Katherine said you’ll be wrapped up in it about three weeks, maybe more.”

Crutchie frowned. How was he supposed to sell? His right arm needed to hold his crutch, so what was supposed to be waving around the papers? His thoughts were interrupted by Jack making him drink some more water.

“I gots more food here, for ya,” Jack began. “Don’t want ya goin’ hungry. And then--”

“Jack?”

Jack went silent instantly, looking so intensely at Crutchie that he started to wonder if Jack thought he was dying. Maybe he was dying. He certainly felt like it. He shook himself. “Can I see the fellas?”

Jack turned around. The newsies, still standing in the middle of the room, waved.

“Yeah, why not,” he said, pulling his hat off and running a hand through his hair. “One at a time, though,” he added when they all began to rush forward. “You’s gonna give him a heart attack, all o’ you’s at once.”, during which Crutchie propped himself up into almost a sitting position. His bad leg was almost completely deadweight, and it hurt like he’d stuck it in a bonfire. Still, he dragged it up a little bit, trying to make room for another boy to sit on the bed. Breathing sitting up made his chest burn and back smart, but he could deal with it for right now. He just wanted to see his friends.

Specs sat down first, smiling in that gentle way of his. “Hey, Crutch,” he said. “Lookin’ a bit worse than last time I seen ya, huh? Feelin’ any better?”

“Jus’ a bit, and okay, I guess,” Crutchie admitted, once again finding smiling to be too much effort. “Jack says we won, I think. How’s it feel?”

Specs sighed happily. “Feels free. Can’t wait to get ya outta bed and into the streets, see how ‘cited the boys are ‘bout sellin’.”

“Me neither,” Crutchie said. Specs nodded, then patted him awkwardly on the knee before standing up. He was almost immediately replaced by Race and Albert, Race falling onto the bed with flourish, Albert standing beside it with his thumbs in his suspenders.

“Feelin’ any better, Crutchie?” Albert asked. Crutchie waved his arm.

“Loads,” he said, trying to not make any sounds as Race jostled him. “Bet I’ll be up sellin’ papes with you’s in no time.”

Albert guffawed; Race smiled a little piteously. “Glad to see that Crutchie spirit,” Race said, poking him in the side. Crutchie couldn’t help a gasp, bit his tongue too late to hide it. The smile completely dropped from both of their faces.

“Hey, uh,” Albert said, quieter than usual, “Race an’ I--we’s been there. Well, not there ‘xactly, but . . . that place. So we knows it’s hard to get better, an’ it takes time.”

They really didn’t know, Crutchie thought to himself as they stepped away. They didn’t have a public connection to Jack Kelly when they were in there, nor did they have a crippled leg. He was sure it was rough for them, but their experiences were not the same, and he didn’t much appreciate them comparing the two.

“Hey Crutchie! Feelin’ any better?” Elmer.

“I’d feel better if people would stop askin’ me that,” Crutchie grumbled. Elmer laughed, his eyes lighting up.

“Les an’ Davey an’ me made you this,” he said, holding something out. He dropped it in Crutchie’s lap, who stiffly picked it up with bandaged fingers and examined it closely. It was a loop of yarns, braided together in blue, green, and brown to make a bracelet.

“You don’t gotta put it on your wrist now,” Elmer said, obviously proud. “But we all made it! You can sees where I started braidin’ after Les, ‘cuz it gets better there.”

Crutchie felt tears pricking at his eyes as he looked, and yep--there was a section where it went from messy to a little less so. “Thanks, Elmer. I’m . . . I’m touched.” he glanced up into his face, seeing it split into a huge smile. “You wanna put it on my wrist? My fingers ain’t workin’ so well.”

Elmer did so with care, not even hopping back when Crutchie flinched at the touch. Then he gave a little bow and a wave, and darted off.

Next up were Romeo and Henry, who awkwardly told him about their day and asked about his. Seeing as how Crutchie had been unconscious for the majority of the day, there wasn’t much conversation to be made on his end. It was nice to hear about what they’d been doing, though. Crutchie could usually see Romeo from his selling spot, and they sometimes sold together.

“Some o’ the regulars is askin’ after you,” Romeo told him with a pat on the shoulder. Crutchie didn’t have the energy to hide his wince. “Told ‘em they oughtta be proud o’ you, you took on the Delanceys and won!”

Crutchie choked. “I ain’t done anything of the sort!” he sputtered. Romeo chuckled.

“I’m a newsie, what can I say?” he shrugged and patted his shoulder again, then wandered off with a bit of a dazed look on his face. Henry gave him a quick goodbye and followed.

Tommy Boy was just saying hello when Jack began to usher them out, saying something about how they needed to go run off their energy somewhere not here. For once, Crutchie was grateful for Jack’s motherhenning. He felt like he was going to shake right out of his body. The newsies were a tactile bunch, and normally Crutchie had no problem with that, but today it made his skin crawl and his brain go bleary. He’d also never been troubled by crowds of any size, but the room was beginning to feel unbearably full and loud.

When he looked up again, everyone but Jack was gone--and Katherine? When had she come in?

Not another person, Crutchie thought, then immediately felt bad. Jack had mentioned her a few times, and he inferred that she was sort of the person who got him out. He could have the civility to talk to her.

“Crutchie, how are you feeling?” Katherine asked, hurrying over. Crutchie bit his tongue to keep from responding rudely.

Katherine looked him over, the smile in her words slowly fading as she took him in. Finally, she met his eyes, and nodded. “Jack was right, you’re looking a lot better than yesterday.”

“Thanks, I think?” Crutchie said, something catching in his sore throat and causing him to cough violently. His chest seized up, his body wracked with agony at the pain that came from the shuddering coughs. When he recovered enough to open his eyes, Jack was holding the cup of water right under his nose.

“Don’ be gettin’ sick on me, Crutchie,” Jack said, sounding more worried than teasing. Crutchie swallowed down the last of the water and coughed one more time.

“I’s gettin’ sick just ta spite you, now,” Crutchie said weakly. Katherine and Jack both laughed, a little wildly, a little wrong. That bothered him, in ways that he couldn’t quite put together. Why didn’t they sound normal?

Something in the smell of the room was starting to make him feel sick. Had he eaten anything since the scraps that one morning? He had, hadn’t he? Jack had given him something earlier. Well, at least he knew there was something in his stomach to be tossed up if it came to that. That had to be easier on his throat than dry heaves.

“Crutchie, you heard that the Refuge has been shut down for good, haven’t you?” asked Katherine, trying to find somewhere to pat him kindly. She settled on the edge of the mattress.

Wait, what?

The Refuge? Shut down--for good? That wasn’t possible, was it? Snyder had a perfect reputation with the city. They’d never shut down a place that worked so well because a few teenage boys told them to.

“It what?” he said out loud, looking between Jack and Katherine, hoping to see some sign of humor. They had to be pulling his leg. Katherine only nodded, though, and Jack gave him a concerned glance.

“I told ya that already,” Jack said. “Remember? This mornin’?”

Crutchie thought back. Maybe? He remembered pieces of their conversation, but it was pretty blurry. He also remembered seeing a lizard crawl up the windowpane. He’d assumed it was a dream, but maybe it had actually happened. That was pretty cool.

“Anyway, I showed Governor Roosevelt some of Jack’s drawings,” Katherine pushed on. “He investigated it immediately, and went personally to shut it down and arrest that awful man!”

“The governor,” Crutchie repeated, dumbfounded. Jack had ridden in the back of his carriage once. Had he met the governor and not even been conscious?

Now that he thought about it, though, he had vague flashes . . . a man with a mustache saying something to someone out of sight . . . the same man holding water for him to drink . . . had he met the governor and let the man baby him?

“The doctor said he doesn’t know what your recovery will look like, but he thinks you’ll make a full one if nothing gets infected,” Katherine told him, and Crutchie was torn from his mortification to incredulation.

“A doctor?” He couldn’t afford a doctor! He didn’t even have enough money saved to miss more than a few days of work, how would he--

“Don’t worry,” Katherine said, waving him off with a little laugh, “Governor Roosevelt handled the cost. You were concerned about it when it happened, too.”

Crutchie made himself relax a little bit. He couldn’t turn down a free handout in his condition, especially not from the governor. The governor.

“And, speaking of. . . .” Katherine trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Jack took her hand and gave her a strained smile. Crutchie looked at the two of them. Were they together?! Why had no one told him?

“I sort of need to change your bandages,” Katherine said apologetically. Crutchie blanched, and she hurried to add, “It’ll be quick! Just clean wrappings--” she waved a bag-- “and some soap and water, then you can rest.”

Yeah, sure, but there was a huge problem. Katherine was a girl. It wasn’t that she was weak for being a girl or anything, but Crutchie really didn’t want to subject a lady to the mess that was his body right now. Or anyone, for that matter. In fact, if they could both just leave the room and give him the bandages and stinging stuff, he’d get it done himself.

When he tried to tell Katherine just that, she snorted. “Crutchie, no offense, but I don’t think you could beat a toddler with pneumonia in a fight right now. There’s no way you could do this yourself, or any way you could stop me or one of the others doing it for you.”

Crutchie’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t stop them. She was right. They could do anything they wanted to him, and he was powerless to do anything. They wouldn’t even need to hold him down.

Crutchie only nodded when she asked him if she could change his bandages, his throat completely dry. Jack watched him for a moment, and Crutchie tried to not look back. He didn’t want Jack to see how petrified he was. After a moment, Jack made up some nonsense excuse about checking on the other boys and left.

Left to get them, probably. Or maybe something to hit him with. Or both. After all, he was a pretty easy target right about now, who wouldn’t want a go? He could barely move, let alone fight back. Crutchie’s stomach turned as an image of Race taking bets on how long he’d be conscious forced itself into his head.

“Can you sit up all the way, Crutchie?” Katherine asked, and he cringed. They were going to make him sit up? Were they going to make him move from this bed, too? It was Jack’s, he’d realized earlier. Jack probably wanted it back.

He pushed himself up, slowly, agonizingly. His head pounded and his back throbbed and his stomach wouldn’t stop sloshing around the water in it, but he sat up anyway, slowly adjusting so that his legs hung off the bed. By the time he was fully sitting up (hunching over like he wanted to made it harder to breathe) Crutchie had broken a light sweat, his hair sticking a little to the back of his neck. Katherine wouldn’t hurt him, right? She was a girl, and she was upper-class. They made other people do that for them.

“I’m going to start with this cut on your cheek, okay? It looks like it’s fine, I just want to make sure it’s clean.”

Crutchie braced himself, closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep for a little bit longer. Couldn’t it go back to Jack softly giving him water and drawing while he dozed? That was nice. That was safe. Couldn’t they do that for just a little bit longer before they got to all the bad stuff?

Katherine’s touch on his face made him flinch back, but that was all it was. A touch. A piece of wet cloth, rubbed on his cheek. It wasn’t too bad, so far. It was almost a little nice.

“Your forehead’s pretty warm,” he heard her say, distantly. He didn’t respond. It was taking all his effort to stay still and upright.

Crutchie tried to retreat to the back of his mind as he felt Katherine undoing the buttons on his shirt, but he couldn’t get out of here. He was straining his ears to hear something, anything--the boys bounding upstairs, or cheering, or something like that that would give him time to prepare for what was to come.

He was broken out of it, though, when his already aching chest burst into flames. He cried out, opened his eyes--Katherine was holding a red-stained cloth, looking apologetic.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, “but one of your cuts is infected. It’s going to hurt a bit. Do you think you can focus on me?”

Crutchie would’ve laughed if he wasn’t busy taking as shallow breaths as possible. He could barely focus on anything. He looked down to see the patchwork of bruises and scrapes that was his chest, and saw that yes, the largest one looked irritated and weepy. That one had been giving him trouble from the first day.

Something touched his hand and he started, then stared down at it. Katherine was holding his hand. Why?

“We can wait until you’re ready,” she said, and Crutchie wasn’t sure that he would ever be ready, but nodded as a go-ahead.

He watched now as Katherine gently and carefully cleaned each wound, calming more with each reassuring squeeze of her hand when the liquid stung. Something about her hand in his was comforting, almost grounding. It was as if his perception had been blurred with panic, and her hand cleared the mist enough that he could ground himself against the contact and the quiet openness of the room. He was alive.

Instead of making him move, Katherine climbed over the bed in a very unladylike manner and dressed the marks on his back. This was worse. With no one to hold onto and no way to see what was happening, Crutchie dug the sore fingers of his right hand into his left upper arm. It gave him a sensation to focus on that wasn’t the painful touches on his back, something that he could control. That helped, a little bit. What didn’t help was the fact that Crutchie couldn’t stop staring at the door, waiting for it to burst open at any minute.

Katherine wrapped his torso and helped him get his shirt back on before moving down to his legs, which made Crutchie even more uncomfortable. He tried to shift away, even told her he could do this part, despite knowing full well that he was about two minutes from passing out. She was a lady, it was improper.

Katherine was sympathetic. “I can go get Jack,” she offered. “Or one of the other boys, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

No. No no no no no no no. Couldn’t they do this for a little while longer first? Just Katherine holding his hand and cleaning his chest. She seemed to see his panic, because she immediately softened.

“How about this,” she said. “I’ll only do from the knees down, and then I’ll turn around while you clean the rest, okay?” Crutchie nodded. That sounded okay. Embarrassing, of course, but so much better than the alternative.

Katherine pulled one of the blankets from where it was tucked in and draped it over his legs. With her steadying him, Crutchie managed to get his pants down to his ankles, then let her take over, his face burning. She was a girl, after all. It felt so wrong, to let her clean his legs.

She made quick work of it though, and handed Crutchie the brown bottle of what seemed to be soapy water and the cloth before turning around. He watched her for a moment, making sure she wasn’t going to peek, then quickly yet haltingly rubbed the cloth along his thighs. There luckily was nothing more than bruises and a single cut there, and he was done in a few minutes. By that point, he could barely hold his head up. Instead of pulling his pants back on, he just fell back against the bed, groaning.

Katherine tucked him back in, resting a hand on his forehead again. “Do you think you have a fever?”

That would make a bit of sense, wouldn’t it? It was the middle of summer, it had to be sweltering out, and here he was under three blankets with the window closed. He was sure he had other symptoms too, but he didn’t really remember, so he just shrugged and closed his eyes.

Katherine sighed, rubbing his fingers. “Crutchie, I need you to stay awake for a few minutes. Jack’s bringing you something to eat.”

Crutchie forced his eyes back open. He didn’t want to be awake. He’d been tired this whole time and now his body felt like it was going to fall apart. As if summoned, though, the door at the other end of the room creaked open, and in came Jack, holding a bowl in one hand and some bread in the other.

“I sent Sniper down ta Jacobi’s,” he said by way of introduction. Crutchie tried to move his arms, but they felt weighed down. He didn’t really want to eat, he wanted to sleep. He really wanted to sleep, actually, so badly that he felt his eyes begin to burn with tears. Why weren’t they letting him sleep?

There was bread in front of him and Crutchie stared at it uncomprehendingly. What was he supposed to do with that? He couldn’t take it, his arms weren’t moving.

He blinked and it had been replaced by a bowl of something, which gradually came closer as he watched. Someone wormed a hand underneath his neck to prop his head up, making him shiver and twitch. He didn’t like that at all, but there was nothing he could do. Maybe now they were going to beat him. At least he’d probably be too out of it to notice.

The bowl pressed against his lips and Crutchie opened his mouth, choking as some of its liquid slipped down his throat. That was far more warm than he’d been expecting, not quite searing his tongue, but coming close to it. It drew back again, then more spilled into his mouth. This time, Crutchie drank, paying no mind to the flavor or temperature. He just hoped they would let him sleep after this.

Sure enough, with a few last drops of broth, the bowl was empty and the hand under his neck pulled away, leaving Crutchie to fall back against the pillow. Before his eyes were even closed, he was pulled into darkness.

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tarklesbehindthescenes · 3 years

Note

If you've got the time and inclination, I've got another MegaRatch request for you, maybe related to the one from before. Megan does something really dumb on the battlefield and gets hurt and due to some contrivance, Ratchet begrudgingly patches him up.

It is DONE!! It took me sooo long to figure out what direction I wanted to take it, but it is done!

MegaRatch 2: Electric Boogaloo

Word count capped at 2,172

Ratchet squinted up at the grey warlord belting out hearty, maniacal laughter. The smug spawn of a glitch was at it again. Another absurd plan was being put in motion that would allow the Decepticons to gather energy at the expense of the planet and its inhabitants’ safety. And as always, he was gloating about it while the Autobots fought against his forces to put a stop to it. As the fight progressed, it was becoming increasingly apparent that it was only a matter of time before Optimus Prime got to him and wrecked his creation.

Megatron began fiddling with the controls which caused a violent crackling of electricity to erupt from it, frightening his in-commands and making the rest of his army pause to look over, the Autobots they were fighting doing like-wise.

“Actions: inadvisable! Requesting Megatron desist!” Soundwave called out to him desperately.

“Do you wish to blow us all to kingdom come?!” Starscream shrieked, scrambling back with panic. “It’s too soon, you’ll—”

“I do not need it to finish in order to gain the power necessary to defeat the Autobots!” Megatron roared over the crackling electricity as he placed his hands on a couple orbs. Electrical currents began flowing from the machine into Megatron. “I will not let this victory escape us!”

“I’m not staying! Decepticons, flee!” Starscream took off in a hurry, the seekers following his example and taking to the air hot on his thrusters. Soundwave turned to the remaining forces as they looked like they were seriously considering doing the same.

“Wait! Hold positions!” he commanded. His words fell on faulty audio receptors, however. Astrotrain and Reflector booked it and that was the end of that. The other Decepticons bailed, leaving Megatron and Soundwave alone with the Autobots.

“Cowards!” Megatron bellowed after them, removing his hands from the machine, energy crackling around them. “You will all suffer the consequences of deserting the battlefield!”

“Prime, I think that’s our cue to go!” Wheeljack called.

Optimus Prime took a small step backward but kept his gaze locked on the warmonger. “Everyone, get back! We don’t know what he can do!”

Megatron raised his arms above his head, focusing the electrical energy in his hands and narrowing his optics as the Autobots began to pull back. “It’s too late to run, Prime! Your doom is nigh at hand!”

Ratchet eyed the electricity coursing through Megatron’s hands. That was big talk coming from someone wielding such unstable energy. If he could just distract him for long enough... “Megatron!” the medic barked out.

The warmonger’s optics snapped to him then a smirk curled up on his lips. “Ratchet,” he mused. “It would be such a shame to lay waste to such medical skills like yours. I will give you a choice. Join me or perish with your team!”

“Do you realize just how absurd this plan is?” Ratchet evaded. Megatron took the bait and went into a mini-monologue. “What is absurd about it? With you Autobots offline, there will be nothing standing in the way of total domination of this planet so I can bleed it dry!” He ended with a laugh. Behind him, Soundwave noticed the energy growing more and more unstable in his commander’s hands and began backing up. Once Megatron was done having a laugh, he narrowed his optics at the medic. “Now choose!”

“Ratchet—” Optimus started, stopping himself when Ratchet motioned for him to back off and reluctantly doing as directed.

“Give me a moment to think!” he snapped at the warlord.

“Now!” Megatron demanded, the crackling of energy nearly drowning him out.

“Fine, fine!” Ratchet threw a quick glance at Soundwave. The communications officer was reluctantly running for cover. “I choose…” The medibot swiftly turned on his heel and booked it with the rest of his team.

Behind them, the warmonger snarled. “You have chosen most unwisely! Taste the consequences of your—”

The rest of the threat was cut off as there was the loud sound of electricity discharging and screams of pain followed shortly after. It was so darn bright in the area for a few minutes that it was nigh impossible to see clearly until the light settled down to normal levels. The group of Autobots mumbled to each other and looked around.

“Is everyone all right?” Prime checked, giving each mech a glance over. “Ratchet?”

The medibot waved a dismissive hand. “I’m okay.”

“That was some quick thinking back there,” the leader praised.

Ironhide fixed the ambulance with a confuddled expression. “Just why was that bucket o’ bolts tellin’ ya to join ‘im?”

To which, Ratchet responded with an exasperated huff. “Because he’s a fan of my work? Drop it.”

Sunstreaker looked to where they had come from. Megatron could be seen on the ground, a small cloud of smoke rising from him. “He charred himself but good, it seems.” The Lambo twin screwed up his face with mild disgust. “Phew, you can smell it!”

“I think it’s safe to say he won’t be getting up for a while or finishing that scheme of his,” Optimus agreed, gesturing to the machine behind the downed Decepticon commander. “That electrical outburst fried his creation. Autobots, let’s roll for home.”

The Autobots took the command and promptly transformed to begin following Prime back home. Ratchet transformed, but paused as he caught sight of Soundwave checking up on Megatron through his rearview mirrors.

“Hey, doc. You coming?” Trailbreaker said, cutting through his thoughts.

“I just remembered I’ve got some business to take care of,” Ratchet replied. “You go on ahead. I’ll be back when I’m done.”

If Trailbreaker could shrug in vehicle mode, Ratchet was sure he would have during the pause before the dark-colored car left. Once he was out of sight, the medibot returned to robot mode and approached Soundwave and the unconscious Megatron. It was almost a struggle to move forward. A big part of him screamed to just leave with the others and let Megatron and the other Decepticons deal with the consequences themselves. But the part of him that made him take up his profession as a medibot scolded that part of him and was forcing him forward.

Soundwave took notice of him and pointed his blaster at him when Ratchet drew close.

Ratchet fixed him with a stern look. “Put that peashooter away! I’m a medic, not a warrior.” Without waiting for Soundwave’s next move, he knelt down beside Megatron and looked him over. The smoke was coming from Megatron’s mouth and seeping out of cracks in his plating. Ratchet shook his head. “He should’ve listened to you.”

The third-in-command hesitated before putting his weapon away. “Vitals indicate he is still online,” he reported.

“No doubt a good chunk of his hardware is fried, though,” Ratchet grunted. His examination of the Decepticon commander led him to find that Megatron’s state, while not ideal, was stable enough that he didn’t need a patch. “Can you carry him?”

“Affirmative.”

“Good. He needs to be brought back to your ship so we can actually tend to him.” The sound of flight frames approaching made them pause and look up. Blitzwing and Astrotrain had returned and touched down just beside them. “And look. Here’s our ride.”

The two triple changers frowned, Blitzwing with confusion and Astrotrain with disdain.

“Your ride, Autobot? We only came to check up on Megatron and see the results.” Astrotrain eyed Megatron with judgement. “Looks to me like he’s ultimately failed.”

Soundwave picked up the commander and glowered at the shuttle train behind his visor. “Transform. NOW,” he commanded.

Astrotrain looked to Blitzwing.

His friend cocked an optic ridge at him. “What are you looking at me for? Soundwave’s our superior. And you don’t want to mess with Ratchet, trust me.” Blitzwing reminded, making the shuttle train sigh heavily before doing as told and transforming into shuttle mode.

Soundwave entered him with Ratchet close behind and settled down, then they were off. The ride was short thanks to Astrotrain’s size and speed. When they arrived in the hangar, they found the seekers gathered with a few of the other Decepticons, recounting the events that went down. Starscream was, of course, blowing things out of proportion.

“—drove him to such rash actions! He turned himself into a living bomb just to get the advantage over the Autobots! I tried to warn him against it, but he was so livid, he just could not be reasoned with!”

…Actually, that was fairly accurate.

“Kind of you to come back to base instead of check up on him,” Ratchet called out, making the second-in-command and those gathered around turn to him and Soundwave.

Starscream didn’t have the decency to look remotely abashed. “Somebody had to relay the events. Besides, Soundwave—” The seeker paused and squinted. “Now wait just one moment here! What the frag are you doing in our base?!”

“Ratchet will be lending his aid toward Megatron’s recovery.” Soundwave gave Starscream a challenging look, daring him to intervene.

The air commander didn’t, but he certainly didn’t approve. He shot Megatron a loathing and disappointed look. “You mean to tell me he’s still alive?”

“Don’t sound so thrilled, Starscream,” Ratchet commented. “We’ll get the wrong idea about you.”

Starscream scoffed and shrugged. “Naturally, I am enthused about this turn of events. How lucky we are to be bequeathed with such a miracle.”

Several bots in the room rolled their optics, including Ratchet. “Alright, alright,” the medibot grunted, “that’s enough back and forth. Someone tell Hook to get his aft to the medbay if he isn’t there already. This is going to be a repair all three of us will be needed for, Soundwave.”

“Understood.”

[Perspective Change]

Megatron’s vision was dark for a moment, save for the flashing word ‘rebooting’. He felt stiff and a little cold. What had happened to land him like this? He had the Autobots on the run, and then… the energy in his hands exploded. His team of Decepticons had left him. Was he still on the ground where the battle had taken place? …No, this didn’t feel like it.

His systems finished rebooting, now granting him sight and audio. The medbay ceiling greeted his optics and the sound of bots working and talking out of sight came to his audio receptors.

“—impressive, honestly. The amount of burns on his motherboard and these hydraulics. Yet the electrical damage jumped over the main power nodes on the board, which is what kept him stable.”

Megatron squinted. That voice… “Ratchet?” he murmured.

There was the sound of movement and then there he was, looking down on him. “Look who’s finally up. You know, you really should listen to your in-commands next time,” the medibot chided. “They’re usually there to keep you from doing stupid things.”

Megatron disregarded the chastisement. “What are you… You’re… here…” he mumbled with utmost confusion.

Ratchet folded his arms. “Against my better judgement.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a medic and…” He hesitated. “I decide who my patients are. Leaving you the way you were just felt… wrong. I don’t understand it fully, myself, so just take it and be grateful I even took the time out of my day to work on your sorry aft.”

The Decepticon commander struggled for a moment to process this. The Autobot chief medic actually helped him of his own volition? Was he expecting anything? He must’ve been. “I am not going to stop attacking your friends,” he stated gruffly.

To which Ratchet rolled his optics at him. “Did I say anything about them?”

“No, but surely you’re not doing this favor for free.”

“And why shouldn’t I be?”

“It makes no sense!” Megatron sat up to better lock optics with him. “Nobody does something unless commanded or bribed!”

Ratchet shook his head. “You’ve got a skewed perspective of reality. All I want is to be dropped back off on the surface so I can go back to the Ark. You seem to be perfectly fine now and don’t need me.”

“Wait just one moment,” Megatron said, looking over to where Ratchet came from, to where Soundwave and Hook stood patiently. “Leave us.” Hook left without a second thought, while Soundwave hesitated before slowly taking his leave. Once the medbay was clear of everyone but himself and Ratchet, the commander spoke up again. “Stay a while longer,” he bade with an unusually quiet tone. This medibot was a puzzle. An enigma. Megatron wasn’t about to just let this go without getting as much facts as he could.

The Autobot fixed him with a squint. “What for?”

“Just to talk.”

“…That’s it?”

“That’s all. I have questions that need addressing,” the warlord clarified.

There was a pause, and then the medic sighed and dropped his arms to his sides. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Just long enough to be certain you’re on the road to recovery.”

This time Megatron would settle his curiosity about the Autobot ambulance once and for all. This time for sure the intrigue would be satisfied.

#Yikes that took longer than I meant it too #But it's here!#I hope this fills what you were looking for!#Transformers #MegaRatch #Megatron #Ratchet #G1 #maccadam #requests #Asks

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fluffypeachwriting · 3 years

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hiyaaa~~

its me, the hitoya and reader getting transported to some unknown place! im rlly happy that u had fun writing it and i enjoyed reading it too! ٩(*•͈ ꇴ •͈*)و ̑̑❀

hehe u mentioned that u would be more than happy to write a sequel and oh my gosh id like to take up on that offer!! huhuu~ im already invested on what would happen to hitoya and the reader, and what theyre gonna do!!

thank you for writing my request and ill be waiting on for the sequel of it! good luck and im wishing you good health now and in the future! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

I’m sorry that you had to wait so long for this, but it’s finally finished! This sequel turned out to be around 3700 words, so I hope you don’t mind that! I had so much fun with this concept, and so I hope you like reading it! Maybe I’ll do more isekai concepts in the future - I’m so happy that you requested this! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Let’s get back to what Hitoya and Reader are up to! Maybe they’re alone on the boat, but are they alone in the water?

When you had stopped crying, you and Hitoya tried to investigate this strange boat. The unease of being thrown into a new world slowly morphed into a strong curiosity. It took about an hour for you to find your sea legs. It was surprisingly easy to get used to the swaying. The occasional movements you had to make to counteract that swaying came naturally to you.

An unexpected calm washed over the boat, and it became easier to think. Only for you though, Hitoya hadn’t said much in a while. In a strange change of heart, Hitoya had warmed up to life on a boat, in his own way. Either that or he was bored of complaining about it. There was a rugged-looking crewmate’s jacket folded over one of the seats inside the ship, which he took a liking too right away. It fit him perfectly, and while the pirate-y look wasn’t his usual deal, it certainly did him favours.

You had also found something – a pocket watch that had been dropped on the top deck. You were keeping an eye on it, checking on it constantly until an hour had passed. At least, the hour hand had moved from six to seven – that was the only change. The sun hadn’t moved, the air was still brisk, and the sea still looked like red wine.

You sighed and put the watch back. Hitoya was looking over into the sea, thought you couldn’t tell if he was searching for something or simply contemplating things. Usually you wouldn’t hesitate to ask him what was wrong, and usually he would smile and pat your head, saying that everything was alright. But things were not like how they usually were. You thought it was best to leave him alone and stay close by.

In your other hand you were still holding that unusual hat, and until now you hadn’t paid it much mind. There wasn’t any need to, until a harsh gust of wind caught you off guard and knocked it out of your hand.

“No!” You instinctively yelled out, reaching to grab the hat.

Inches from sliding into Hitoya’s legs, you fell flat on your stomach and caught the hat.

“That was close,” You said, standing up and putting on the hat without thinking. Then the unease in your stomach vanished. The salty air felt natural to breathe in, like it was cleansing you from the inside out. A sense of purpose filled you, and the boat felt like home.

“Nice hat you got there, captain.” Hitoya said endearingly, though with a hint of sarcasm. “Where’d you find that?”

“I didn’t find it anywhere, it’s just mine,” You said without thinking. That was surely wrong, since you didn’t have a captain’s hat on you at all this morning. Wait, a captain’s hat? You patted it, and sure enough, it was just like a captain’s hat you’d see in a cartoon.

“Makes you look the part.” Hitoya smiled fondly, making the last shred of unease float away. If he had your back, then everything really would be alright, even in this crazy situation.

With the unease gone, your mind was clear enough to realise how exhausted you were. It was only just this morning when you woke up early to buy Hitoya a cake. That cake sounded really good right now. You were hungry too.

“Hungry… I hope the wind doesn’t pick up… don’t wanna eat when the ship is moving too much,” You said to yourself.

However, life wasn’t so kind, apparently. The sails of the ship started flapping quickly, almost enough to make you jump. A box came from nowhere and slid on the deck, lightly hitting your leg. “Geez…” You held onto your hat pre-emptively, expecting wind.

A moment passed, but no wind came.

“Kid, let’s put this back.” Hitoya knelt down to move the box, but stopped. “Hm.”

“What is it?” You bent down to see what he was curious about. It wasn’t a sight that stopped him, but a smell. It took no time to figure out what it was, in your hungry state, “Food!”

Pushing past Hitoya, you opened the box to find it full of yummy-looking snacks and treats, from sweet pastries to homemade bentos. They were all fresh, too.

“Where did this come from?” You asked into the air.

Hitoya didn’t reply. The ship did. You looked up to see the sails flapping again, and the crow’s nest twirling around. The ship was…

“Alive?!” You exclaimed, already munching on a croissant.

“Hey, are you sure that’s safe?”

“Mm!” It tasted like it was fresh out of the oven.

“Alright, I won’t stop you.” Hitoya threw up his hands and stood, not taking anything from the box.

So this was a magic ship with a magic food box. You thought about this, pacing around the ship while munching on more food, until a glimmer of something caught your eye.

Something shiny had been dropped onto the deck. You went to pick it up, and found that the water was also shiny. Flecks of water surrounding the shiny thing, which was sitting in a pool of glitter, though it didn’t look as artificial as plastic glitter. It was a ring, just a plain silver band, with lots of little scuffs and scratches around it. A voice in the back of your mind told you that it was safe to pick it up, so you did. The water was fine to touch, and the ring itself was normal.

Something was also caught on the inside of the ring, something small, thin, flat, and a little bit curved. It took you a moment to get it out without breaking it. Though, when you got it out, none of your questions were answered. It looked like a holographic fish scale. Tinges of blue and purple reflected off it, in such a way that you could have mistaken it for a precious gem. It felt too hard to be from a normal fish, but then again, you were in no normal land – or, water.

A ring and a fish scale. It seemed like the more time you spent here, the more questions needed to be answered. However, it was something to go off. Before you could form a coherent thought, it was all coming back to you, or at least you would be thinking that if you had been here before.

You quickly looked around to relay this exciting development to Hitoya but he was nowhere to be found. After a frantic search, you found him looking through a cabinet inside what was probably a kitchen.

“We have to look for the water that sparkles. That’s right, we’re here to look for something.” The weight of the captain’s hat got a little lighter.

“Huh?” Hitoya looked at you like you had lost your mind. He shut the cabinet (that seemed to have whisky bottles lined up inside) and faced you. “What’re you on about now?”

You held out the ring to him, “This is a clue. It hadn’t been dropped on the deck by someone on the ship – someone in the water threw it on.”

“There’s not gonna be anyone in that water alive. There’s no one for miles. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head or something?”

He wasn’t ready to humour you just yet.

“I’m sure! This ring is totally a clue, you have to believe me! We were sent here for a purpose!” In your other hand, you showed him the scale, “And this is our way out!”

“Haah, I hate to burst your bubble but, are you really sure you didn’t hit your head? What if we go the same way we came, with a candle. It’s crazy but it’s not out the blue like that – wait, let me see that ring.” Hitoya, with his brow suddenly furrowed in concentration, took the ring from you and examined it. “Tch. I hate to say it, but I think I recognise this ring. I dunno if I like what it implies though…”

“What is it what is it what is it?!” Hearing about this was very exciting. “Your captain orders you to tell me!”

“Heh. Don’t get used to that, kid. Well, this ring looks like it belongs to someone we know. I don’t think we’re the only ones out here.”

“Get to the point!”

“You really can be like my kid,” Hitoya mumbled, “Alright. This looks like Kuko’s ring.”

“What?!”

“It’s a shot in the dark but, yeah. It’d be nice to see those two again, rather than bein’ stuck here.” Hitoya rubbed the back of his neck.

“Aww. Maybe you miss them.”

“Hmph. I’m not saying any more on that.” He crossed his arms, then spoke with a little more energy in his voice, clearly wanting to shift the subject: “Any leads on your end, captain?”

“I’ve got no clue. I… I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t fall overboard. I’m not jumpin’ in after you.” Hitoya said, knowing that he actually would jump in.

“Gotcha.” You left, going out to the deck to look around.

The sun was high in the sky, raining down an intense heat – it was about midday. As you stepped out, a gentle breeze blew away the cobwebs. The afternoon air was nice, although it was not helpful. It had been midday for a few hours. But the last time you saw the sky it was still orange, and you were sure that the sun had been setting. None of this made sense.

“Sparkly water, what does that even mean?” You pondered, pacing around the deck.

The ring and the scale sat in your pocket. You closed your eyes and focused on the smooth surface of the scale, trying to figure out what it all meant. As captain, leading the ship to its destination was your job, and it was even more important to keep your crew in check. That was hard to do when you didn’t know what you were here for.

“And a ring was thrown onto the deck. Even if it’s not Kuko’s, that’s pretty weird.”

Waves gently crashed against the side of the ship, which had been smoothly sailing itself for a while. A soft wind pushed the sails forward. The ocean was endless, with no islands in sight. There weren’t even any other ships. The horizon was visible from all angles, and from all sides. All except near the back. There was an odd contraption laying there, and upon further inspection, you had idea what it was. It looked like an old washtub connected to a wooden crane. There were no levers or cranks for a human to work it by, so you left it alone. For now, you stood near the side facing the sun. Watching the sunlight catch the peaks of little waves was mesmerising. You found yourself watching it for a while, forgetting about this whole ordeal.

Among the waves, there was a small patch of bubbling water. You strained to look at it – there was a pair of binoculars inside, but you didn’t want to move in case this anomaly went out of sight.

At first you thought it could have been mist from a whale’s blowhole, but it was too calm for that. The more you considered it, the more you thought it just looked like someone blowing bubbles underwater. Either way, your heart swelled upon seeing it. It struck you that this whole time you were staring out at sea, you hadn’t seen any wildlife at all – whatever this was, it was something that needed to be checked out by the ship’s captain.

“Ship!” You stood up straight and called out.

The ship’s sails flapped excitedly, like they were responding to you calling out them.

“I want to look at that patch of bubbles from the side, can you sail slowly over there?” Going full speed ahead would certainly sound cool, but approaching this with caution was a smarter move.

The ship lurched forward, obeying everything you told it to do, apart from the ‘slowly.’

“What the hell was that?” Hitoya scrambled onto the deck. He looked like a cat that had just had its nap disturbed.

“I’ve found something! Stay alert, matey!” You kept your eyes peeled and focused. The patch of bubbles split into two smaller patches. One was moving fairly quickly away from the other, but the other soon caught up. The ship, somehow defying the weak breeze, matched its pace with the bubbles.

“Stop, ship!” You braced yourself against the edge of the ship as it stopped. Yes! The water here was ever so slightly sparkly. It looked warm and inviting – you had to hold yourself back from jumping in.

“This seems like the place. You got a good eye, kid. Hey, is that a voice? Is someone drowning?!”

Hitoya was right – from the two patches of bubbles, there came two voices. Though you weren’t too far from them, they were barely audible.

You lowered a rope ladder off the side of the ship and took a few steps down it, hanging on just above the water. “Hey, is someone there? Do you need help?” You called out.

The voices stopped, and everything was quiet. With bated breath, you and Hitoya waited for a reply. Even the ship’s sails were still.

You were about to call again, when a long, red mass swam quickly through the water, creating ripples that splashed on your legs. Another mass was following behind it, though it wasn’t as temperamental as the first.

“Captain, it’s just a weird fish. Come back on board before you fall in.” Hitoya said. “I don’t want you gettin’ eaten.

You stayed right where you were: “No, we’ve come this far! And fish don’t let out bubbles.”

“Fine. It’s a tiny whale.”

“No! We’re staying here.”

Hitoya huffed and leant over to look.

“Listen to your captain, Hitoya.” A voice from under you said.

Your head whipped round to meet the source – it was Kuko! Or at least, it was his head that was peeking out of the water.

“Kuko! Come on board – don’t drown!” You held out your hand to help him up, barely registering the ‘how’ or ‘why’ of him being there.

“Nah thanks, I can’t exactly get up.”

You were about to ask what he meant when another familiar face popped up from the water – it was Jyushi!

“Jyushi! Why are you two in the ocean? And why do you look different? Come on board before you drown!”

“Hey, I hear ya.” Kuko rose up to the surface, just past his shoulders, so that he could freely talk with his hands and he spoke. “Yeah, shit’s different about us – we got other things to worry about first.”

Jyushi, however, only let his head come above water. “Aha! I’m so happy to see both of you again, ehe. I can’t wait to get home!”

“Get home? We can’t even get on the boat,” Kuko snapped.

“Uuuu… I know, but still,” Jyushi whined, and dejectedly blew bubbles under the water.

“You two,” Hitoya butted in, “Don’t keep us out of the loop. What’re you hiding from us?”

“Alright alright. Check this out!” Kuko grinned before diving down into the water and holding himself there, showing off his blue and purple… fish tail. In a flash, he righted himself again. “How’d’ya like that, huh? We’re mermaids – me and Jyushi!”

With your free hand, you took out the scale from your pocket and held it up – it was a match. “So this is from you? And your ring… How did that even happen?”

“Haah? We can talk about all that later. Just help us go home. I wanna get back to takin’ a nap.” Kuko was getting more frustrated by the second.

“I thought you were training today?” You innocently asked.

“Whatever.” Kuko frowned and turned his head.

Instead of his grown out shave, Kuko had long flowing hair like he had been growing it out for years. That long mass of red you saw earlier must have been all that hair. Jyushi was the same; he had no mullet anymore, just a waterfall of black hair.

Kuko must have seen you staring, because he called out to you: “Listen, I dunno if mermaid hairdressers exist but I know they’d have a hard time cleanin’ up all the cut hair when they’re floatin’ all about.” Kuko wasn’t too happy about detracting from the real issue, though he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear: “Kinda like it. Maybe one day.”

“It looks good on you!” You said.

“H-hey! Listen, kiddo. There are things more important than this, like how’re we gonna get up there? Figure that out, captain.”

“I don’t know…”

There was no way you could pull them up by hand – neither you nor Hitoya – and they couldn’t climb the rope ladder only by their arms (maybe Kuko could, but definitely not Jyushi).

The ships sails rattled impatiently. The ship… they needed to get on the ship. If only there was something made just for getting mermaids on the ship. But there was, you realised, thinking back over the past few hours: The strange contraption on the ship was made just for this!

“Ship! Lower the… tub thing… into the water!” You commanded the ship, and it answered.

With a few creaks, the ship turned the gears of the crane and lowered the tub into the water. The managed to swim inside and get settled with minimum fuss. Jyushi was having fun splashing his tub-mate with water, and Kuko was holding back from throwing Jyushi over the side. Soon, the two boys were on board, and lounging in the tub as the ship sailed forth.

Or, you would be going forth, but you didn’t know where you were going.

“Oi, Captain,” Hitoya said, “Where are we headed? If you don’t mind, your first mate here is gonna hit the hay.”

You were starting to feel sleepy yourself. “I’ll join you. I’m tired after all that.”

A loud whine came from behind you, which ended as a yawn. Of course, it was Jyushi. “Uuu… don’t leave me out here with Kuko… He might…”

“What?” Kuko butted in, “Worried I’ll make ya train here? In this boat, as mermaids? Nah. I’m gonna take a nap.” He rested his arms on the rim of the tub and let his head lull back. In almost no time, he was snoring.

You looked to Jyushi, preparing to go and comfort him, only to find that he was fast asleep too. Hitoya had already gone to his quarters so you assumed that he was asleep too. The afternoon was warm, so you could understand why everyone dozed off so quickly. Sitting down on the deck with your back resting against a barrel, you soon fell asleep. You didn’t remember if you were there long, but the sounds of the waves and having everyone safe on board made it easy to rest.

Though you were the last to fall asleep, you were the last one to wake up.

The cabinet behind your head, and the carpet you were sitting on… it was familiar. You were in Hitoya’s office.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Kuko was peering down at you.

“Huh?” You rubbed your eyes and fully woke up, “Was that all a dream? I don’t remember falling asleep.”

“It was real, kid.” Hitoya offered his hand and helped you stand up. “How, or why, did this even happen?”

“M… maybe it was all a freaky dream! That was all had at the same time!” Jyushi said, but his idea was quickly shut down.

“I dunno. I was takin’ a nap, then I fell into the water.” Kuko said, as nonchalantly as if he was telling you what he had for breakfast. “I don’t think worrying about the ‘how’ or ‘why’ will do us any good, guys.”

“Me too… I took a nap… I mean –! I was really tired after band practice and… and…!” Jyushi looked like he was about to make another ocean with his tears, “I wasn’t being lazy… oh… I hope Amanda isn’t lonely without me…”

Kuko clicked his tongue in annoyance as Jyushi whimpered, Hitoya sighing at both of them. Things were well and truly back to normal. Everyone was in their rightful place.

Out on that strange ocean, where time didn’t move in a regular fashion, it would have been so lonely if you were taken there by yourself. You were glad that you weren’t alone, even if the meaning of it all didn’t make sense. You were all back, so why did you have a feeling that you’d left something behind? Was everyone here?

Even without the help of the captain’s hat, you figured out what you left behind: “We never got to find out the ship’s name… It was kinda cute, like a big puppy! Ships all have names, don’t they? Maybe we could name it!”

“Be thankful we all got back in one piece. Don’t go worrying about a boat.” Hitoya sighed, again.

“Right. Um… happy father’s day…?” You weren’t sure if it was still that day.

In the real world, not much time had passed, so it was now around lunch time, despite it feeling like a whole day had passed.

“Heh. Thanks. What do you all say we go out for food? I’m starving.” A chorus of “Yes!” went around, which made Hitoya crack a smile. “Great. You guys argue and pick something.”

“Hitoya, it’s your day, you pick!” You insisted. It was nice that he didn’t dismiss the whole father’s day thing after all.

“Still hung up over that, huh? Alright. I could go for anything right now. Apart from seafood… huh?” Hitoya apparently noticed something new on his desk. “What’s this? Did you get me this?”

“No, what is it?”

Hitoya picked it up and showed everyone. It was a snow globe, with a tiny model ship sitting in the middle. Around the base, ‘The Chiroptera’ was engraved. The ship was alone in its miniature ocean. When he shook it, little blue flecks flew around, with the occasional fleck of glitter.

And if you looked close enough, the sails were flapping.

#hypmic #bad ass temple #hitoya amaguni #reader insert #mystery prompts #kuko harai #jyushi aimono #hypnosis mic

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

i’d like that • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: Okay but imagine this... Bill w a daddy kink, only if you’re comfortable with that :) thank you, I love your fics

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, daddy kink, smut, a lil bit of thigh riding, a tiny bit of choking like a liiiiitle bit, oral (male receiving), this is dirty... it is also unedited

[losers + reader are in college]

im sorry i haven’t posted in the last few days, i’ve been super busy!! :( i hope you enjoy!!

2.4k words

♡

music blared, muffled slightly from up the stairs, the bass to some song making everything vibrate slightly.

the party was stuffy above you, drunk teens screaming and singing loudly, spilling alcohol and making the floorboards sticky. you and the losers were all in a kid from bev's freshman year dorm's house party, huddled in the basement.

it was a little more secluded, so you were drunkenly messing around with each other. you sigh as you finish your cup, leaning over bill's lap to set the cup down on the table next to the couch.

you shiver as you feel his hand on your back and his breath on your neck, giving you goosebumps. you catch his eyes as you lean back and he smirks at you, his eyes suggestive, but he says nothing. you smile lightly as you look away, your stomach fluttering.

you and bill were something - it was clear to everyone. you'd hooked up a couple times, but you haven't ever really had any time to discuss it further. it was fine, though, because you knew it'd happen eventually. mike was telling everyone that they needed to let him know where they were going to be if they split up so he could find you and get you all home safely, because he was dd.

"you're such a dad." you hear ben say to mike, making him roll his eyes. you chuckle lightly. richie laughs at this, “-that's ironic, because bill is the one with the daddy kink.” richie says loudly, winking at him as he drunkenly snorts. god, richie was wasted.

“wha-richie! wh-why bring me into this? what does this have to d-do with me?” bill sounds flustered and strained as eddie and richie die laughing on the floor. beverly is smirking into stan’s shoulder. as you look over, bill’s face is bright red despite his grin. eddie’s hugging your leg from the floor, his body shaking in drunken giggles and you laugh fondly. bill clears his throat, biting his lip as his cheeks heat up with a real smile. you lift a brow - that was new.

did he just get flustered? was richie for real?

if he was... maybe you're drunk, but that's pretty hot.

you’d like that.

you want to test the waters, so you turn to him. “hey...” you say lowly, and he looks down at you, eyebrows raised. “something wrong, daddy?” you whisper in his ear.

his head snaps to you, sending you a glare. you raise your eyebrows, giving him a smirk as he swallows, face bright red. “w-watch it, y/l/n.” he mumbles lowly. you bite your lip in shock, suddenly feeling heat pool in your abdomen at the way he’s looking at you. you just smile and get up, dragging ben with you to go find some more drinks.

you didn’t think of it again until bill invited you over the next day. his roommate went home for the weekend, so the two of you were going to meet up with the others later. you're standing in front of bill's mirror as he lays on his bed, reading a draft of one of his papers.

"billy, can you help me with this?" you say, walking back towards him, "i can't unclip it." he mumbles in agreement and you spin around as he lifts his fingers to your neck, working on your necklace to take it off of you.

his body is certainly closer to you that would be considered appropriate for platonic relationships, and you love that you can feel him against you. you take the opportunity to press against him, wiggling your ass against his hips. he huffs lightly under his breath as he pulls the necklace off of you. "you r-really shouldn't tease me, y/n." he mumbles into your ear. you shiver, feeling goose bumps spread over your legs as you turn around.

"does it make you mad, daddy?" you ask, proud of how innocently you delivered it as you lift your eyebrows. something in his face changes and he clenches his jaw. he raises his eyebrows back at you in a challenge, so you slip one hand to tease at his waistband. your fingers dance under his shirt to tease along his taught skin, feeling the muscles underneath you contract.

"y/n, what're you doing?" he says darkly, his hand grabbing your elbow. you lift yourself up onto your toes and feather kisses along his jawline, breathing in the relaxing smell of his aftershave.

"nothing." you mutter, smiling against his neck as you feel his hand tighten its grip. "i've been thinking about you all day." you say, pressing a kiss to his neck and feeling his quickening pulse. “wondering if you want me to call you daddy.”

you feel him swallow and you continue, “because i think i’d like that.” and this time he actually growls, pulling you back before smashing his lips against yours.

you kiss back eagerly, your hands coming up to hold his shoulders as his hand cups your neck. he's pulling you incredibly closer by your neck, his tongue pressing into your mouth. you feel him getting hard against you and you smirk.

his hand moves from the back of your neck towards the side of it, his thumb pressing into your throat, slightly choking you. you let out a loud moan and he smirks as he pulls back.

“strip.” he says, making your stomach flutter as you blink back at him. he's never been this dominant and it's fucking sexy so you eagerly start taking off your clothes until you're just in your bra and underwear in front of him.

he's looking at you, arms crossed and looking sexier than you've ever seen in your life. then he's lifting a brow, "are you deaf? i said strip." he orders. you bite your lip with flushed cheeks, unclipping your bra and slipping out of your underwear.

he stares at you and you love how vulnerable you feel under his gaze, standing naked in front of him while he's fully clothed. "you gonna be good for daddy?" he asks and you feel yourself growing even more aroused. you nod, eyes wide in excitement as your cheeks heat up.

"touch yourself for me." he mutters, standing above you and looking down at your naked body on display on his bed. “now.”

you gulp, face turning red but loving the way he's looking at you and palming himself. you waste no time, your fingers slipping down to slick your fingers on your pussy, moaning quietly as you circle your entrance.

you close your eyes as your first finger enters yourself, moaning louder at the feeling. if your eyes are closed, you can almost imagine they're bill's fingers.

"eyes on me." he says and you quickly obey as your finger picks up, making you gasp. your eyes stay on his and he's smirking and it's so hot that you think you're going to explode.

"that's right, princess." he mumbles, staring at you. "add another." he mutters. and you do, whimpering at the feeling as you stare at the outline of his cock through his pants.

"please..." you whimper quietly, making bill chuckle, "look at you, so desperate for daddy's cock." he mutters, undoing his belt. your fingers are still pumping into yourself desperately, chasing the feeling of pleasure that's growing in your abdomen. you see bill straining against his boxers and you lick your lips. "you gonna be good?" he asks. you nod desperately as you look into his eyes.

"yes daddy, please.. please." you whimper, feeling helpless and desperate. you love it. he smirks, shaking his head as he pulls himself out of his boxers and pumps his shaft, "on your knees, then." he commands. you eagerly go onto your knees at the edge of his bed and watch him as he pulls off his shirt, moaning at the sight of him. "use your words." he says, staring at you expectantly. you're so desperate that your chest is heaving as you mutter, "please, let me taste you daddy."

he hums as he places the tip of his cock on your tongue, smearing his precum on your lips. "do you think you deserve my cock?" he asks, his eyes staring unblinkingly at your lips. your cheeks heat up. "please, daddy. please, i'll be good." you beg, getting wetter by the second and taking every restrictive bone in your body not to move forward and take him into your mouth.

he hums, narrowing his eyes as if he doesn't believe you but he's suddenly pushing all the way down your throat and your eyes widen in shock as he stretches your mouth.

you feel yourself gag around him as his hands hold your head against him. your nose hits the skin around his abdomen and your eyes water but then he's pulling you back and off.

you immediately cough and sniffle, looking up at him. he chuckles, "so pathetic." he mutters before pushing back into your mouth, thrusting in and out this time. your eyes are watering because he's so big and you're swallowing around him as best as you can. his hands hold your head and he's groaning in pleasure as his cock slides in your mouth.

you're aching now, desperate for release, so you sneak a hand between your thighs. "d-don't fucking touch yourself." he says, hips still moving into you as his eyes catch yours, making you whine around his cock.

you pull your hands away and place them instead on his thighs to stable yourself. he thrusts all the way into you and holds your head against him again and you can't breathe as you feel him hit the back on your throat but you love it.

he pulls you back off with a low moan and you're gasping again, spit slicking your lips. you look up at him, "thank you, daddy." you say and he tips his head back with a small groan at your words.

he pulls away from you and sits on the bed, his cock hard and glistening with your spit against his stomach. he pats his thigh and you eagerly straddle yourself on him, looking at him for directions. he kisses you roughly and places his hands on your hips, dragging you to grind down on him.

you moan loudly at the feeling of him against your swollen clit and you clutch his shoulders. he guides you, watching as you squirm above him in pleasure, limp in his grasp. "please, i want you inside me." you say quietly, cheeks heating up as you moan.

he hums as you move against his thigh. "you've worked so well for it." he says into the shell of your ear. you whine, rutting against his thigh to find some release. "please, daddy?" you ask again. you gasp as you feel his fingers squeeze your ass cheek before he slaps it. "you're so wet for me, princess." he says, finger coming down to play with your clit.

he smirks, pulling you off and laying you down at the edge of the bed to stand between your legs. he spreads your thighs open and you breathe shakily as you watch him lay one finger between your folds, rubbing you lightly.

you moan loudly at the feeling, relieved to have him touching you. he pumps himself a few times, his cock still slick with your spit and making you groan. "look at you, such a m-mess. so desperate for me." he says and you whine, "please." you sound as desperate as you feel, itching for him to push into you.

"so f-fucking needy." he mutters as he pushes all the way into you at once. you gasp in pleasure and slight discomfort at his size as he sinks into you to the hilt. he wastes no time, thrusting into you hard and deep, making you yell out in pleasure. he groans, "god, so t-tight."

you whimper as he keeps the pace, hitting your g-spot instantly and making your toes curl. you're moaning quietly and his hands are tight around your hips as he pounds into you. he leans down to bite your throat and you almost scream in pleasure as he thrusts into you, leaving a purple bruise on your neck and his thumbs pinching your nipples. swears are falling from his lips and he fucks you into his bed.

he fills you perfectly, pulling gasps and moans out of your lips every few seconds as his hips snap into yours. he grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a heated kiss before gripping your hips and slamming harder.

you knew you wouldn't last long because of how wound up you were, so when your whimpers are getting higher pitched and you're clenching around his cock, bill smirks. "you want to cum, princess?"

"please daddy, can i?" you whimper, unable to speak the whole sentence because you're focused on waiting to cum until he lets you. he smiles, kissing you roughly and dragging your bottom lip with his teeth. "cum for me." he says lowly, rutting into you.

you unravel under him, holding onto him tightly as you moan in pleasure. he groans as you clench around him and he lifts your legs to hit a new angle.

you almost scream but instead you kiss him, whimpering into his mouth. he pulls back and snaps his hips impossibly deeper, your back arching at how sensitive you are now. "being so good for daddy." he mutters, his fingers sure to leave marks on your skin from where they grip your thighs and you nod, moaning wantonly.

after several slower thrusts, he pulls out and spills on your stomach, his eyes shut tight and a soft groan escaping his lips. "fuck." he says after he finishes, meeting your eyes.

your legs are shaking slightly as he gently lifts them down from his shoulders and you both catch your breath as he rubs your sides.

you smile lightly, your body exhausted and your eyelids half shut. he grabs a washcloth and cleans off your stomach carefully and you lie there, knowing that the moment you tried to move your legs would turn to jelly.

he presses a soft kiss to your stomach before climbing into the bed with you, pulling you closer and kissing your hairline softly. "was i too much?" he whispers, lips between his teeth.

you shake your head, eyes wide as you look up at him. "that was fucking amazing, holy shit." you say, your hands on his chest and head against his pillow. he smiles at you and you bask in the warmth his body gives you.

"h-hey" he says suddenly, causing you to look up at him drowsily. he beams down at you, and all of the sudden he's back to looking like a boy-next-door angel and not the boy that just completely mauled you.

it makes your heart skip a beat - he always has that effect.

"yeah?" you ask meekly, your voice rough and your throat sore. he's running his fingers through your hair and he presses a kiss to your nose. "do you want to... like, go out sometime?" he asks - sounding nervous, as if he didn't just fuck you raw.

you smile, beam actually, because you haven't ever been happier than this moment and you nod. "yes, i'd like that."

#bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough smut #losers x reader #losers club x reader #my writing

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parkeraul · 4 years

Note

PLEASE A ONE SHOT of Tom revieving good treats sighing and closing his eyes !!! Im death !!!!! i need this in my life haha

→ me necesita | t.h.

author’s note — helloooo! i’m so sorry for the long waiting and for this piece so short. lately i’m lacking energy to write for some reason???? but i truly hope you like this little thing. it actually makes NO SENSE AT ALL.

pairing: tom holland x reader

masterlist ┊add yourself to my taglists ┊give me feedbacks.

warnings — smut. plus, this scenario involves only 18+ people, so that’s why i haven’t specified with y/n or whatevs.

Tom had woken up from an agitated dream for the day ahead of him, a long comic con from the very beginning of the afternoon until the middle of the night. But what he couldn’t let show is that he didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours, because the other ones were energetically disturbing throughout the night.

He was resting peacefully, mind totally empty and ready to relax and it did work for a while — but his dreams were bothered by a mysterious woman whose face was barely showing, though her silhouette was perfectly standing out from the blurriness of his weird dream.

She walked in a never–ending way towards him, black dress framing every curve of her body and cascading into a round skirt. The straps were fragile, only there to hold the fabric up and hide the most tempting part of her cleavage.

There were shadows covering her eyes, only displaying her features from down her nose. She had a gorgeous smile, pretty lips and something about the energy she was exhaling got Tom shifting in bed, pressing his front to the mattress and moving his eyes from side to side underneath his closed eyelids. He knew he wanted her, he wanted to unravel more than the paper–thin black fabric and find out what’s about her that makes he wanna come undone.

He had never experienced a dream so real, so full of anticipation and curiosity.

Her exposed legs were silky and begging for his hands to caress the smooth flesh, and he craved it so bad he could almost smell the scent of them, or feel the warmth of her thighs close to his lips like he wanted it to be.

The slight moment when the shadow disappeared and gave him the sight of her entire face, Tom got trapped into the way she looked deeply at him and cursed himself for asking not to get up so soon, because the dream got stolen from him right when she stopped in front of his frame — so close and so far away as she winks him goodbye.

In that small dressing room backstage, Tom closes the door and locks it kind of clumsily. His throat is dry and no matter how many times he gulps, the lump of the anticipation won’t go down. He blames himself quietly for picturing scenarios in his mind the whole time, barely listening to the questions they were asking him. Now here he is, pants tight on his body and shirt squeezing his arms and chest, making the warmness wandering along his skin start to simmer helplessly.

Tom can’t quite understand why and how he came to this point — his hands were slightly shaking and curling them into fists wasn’t easing the nervousness, the impatience. His rationality isn’t working better than his senses, so his open palms rubs his face roughly and they travel up to his short hair, brushing the small locks back. He tries breathing deeply once, twice, three times and the expected state of stillness went away as fast as it came.

His hips buck into the air subconsciously.

And that’s it for him.

From the top of his head, Tom’s hands moves to the nape of his neck with the fingers of his left hand hooked together with his right hand ones. They rest there for a few seconds, while he concludes that there is no other way.

The fingers loosen, and his arms drop down to the shirt tucked inside his trousers. Tom pulls the fabric out of the firm waistband and his index bump into the button of his pants — and he sighs heavily, a trail of chills embracing the nape of his neck and the extension of his arms.

His worked–up mind flies back to her and the image of her silhouette hugged tightly by the black dress. He remembers how the top part squished her chest in the most sinful way, how the swell of her breasts were discreetly calling his attention, begging for kisses all over the skin he didn’t need to touch to know it was so tender. Tom exhales, cursing his imagination for setting the image of that girl starting to kneel down on the white floor, passing her delicate hands along his thick thighs as he undoes the button of his navy blue pants.

“Holy shit!” He laughs to himself, not believing the power that his thoughts had on him. In his head, she is there on her knees just perfectly, adjusting herself and watching his zipper going down slowly, attentive as Tom feels a weak sensation of relief take over his lower stomach and growing bulge.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” Tom mutters, discarding his leather belt to the floor. “On your knees for me.”

He tilts his head down and that’s when her utopic company makes its presence solidly, earning the shiest growl out of his throat. She looks up at him through her lashes just like she was looking at him hours ago during the dream. God, she’s got the most breathtakingly pair of eyes, glancing at him expectantly. Tom dares to replay in his head the way she winked at him and the sight of that gets his member twitching, then softening as he frees his lower half from the trousers keeping that warmth playing way too dirtily with his current state.

Now, there in his fantasy, she’s batting her eyelashes and putting her hair behind her ears, getting ready for what’s about to come. Tom smiles to the memorable image of her unmistakable beauty, and kneeling on the floor in front of him she’s managed to look impossibly prettier — to a point where words of praise and orders couldn’t stop falling from his lips, and he’d never thought someone would acquire such thing in a quick period of time like this. But Tom couldn’t stop himself, her awaiting expression begs silently for instructions and compliments that he’s more than willingly to give away.

“Hands behind your back,” He whispers, holding onto the elastic waistband of his black Calvins as she complies in his brain. Tom needs to take in a sharp breath and resist the dizziness taking over his nerves, mouth watering to the delusion of her arms hooking behind her back, the strap of her dress falling from her shoulder deliberately. Fuck, the things he’d do to actually have her in this exact position right now. “Good girl… That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

His briefs lower and his aching length springs out, bouncing from side to side and he pictures her staring at it hungrily. The boxers get stuck no further past his crotch, his legs opening faintly just like her lips parting in unison after her tongue swap gently on them to moisten the plump flesh. She bites onto her bottom lip and Tom mirrors the action, seeing the way she leans in with her wanting mouth more than ready to welcome all of him.

Tom holds his own cock and starts to grope the middle of it still weakly, pushing and pulling the mild skin as he opens his eyes lazily to tilt his head back up. He searches for all the air he can get in his lungs as his hand wraps around his dick, tightening the touch gradually whilst his movements never stop. Tom allows his eyes to wander around a blank spot of the room, thinking about how wonderfully it would to be to have those pretty lips covering the leaking tip of his member. He can’t help but hold himself harder, hissing strongly when a pulsating wave of pleasure heats his entire length and increases the coil in his lower abs, “Open up, gorgeous, I know you can take more.”

He imagines what her face would look like, smirking back at him the best way she can while swallowing his hard cock, mouth completely stuffed — and in his head, she wouldn’t feel satisfied even with most extension of him inside her. Struggling and gasping, she would still lean in for more in his mind and Tom could almost taste the feeling of getting stuck in the beginning of her throat. To that, he swipes his thumb right where his pre–cum is leaking unstoppably, drawing tight circles and massaging his cock with his other fingers and palm. The vein underneath it is quivering, unsatisfied with the slow pace while Tom’s eyes even begin to water from how good it feels. His hand narrows and curls around himself in a fist, pumping the thick length with the might he needs all the way from the base to the head, bringing a moan to erupt from his lips while he thinks about how warm her tongue would feel, how wet and loud the sounds out of her mouth would be.

“Fuckin’ shit, darlin’,” Tom growls, fastening his moves and clinging his head to the wall behind him. All he can think about is the stubborn strap of her dress falling more, revealing the skin he’s been dying to decorate with hickeys ever since she bent over towards to glance at him with that tempting look in her eyes, “Suck harder, show me what this mouth can do, c’mon.”

And if Tom only could,

he’d take a good handful of her hair and shift it into a high ponytail,

and thrust into her mouth as he bobs her head against himself.

A thin layer of sweat wets his hairline, and he blows the air in his mouth in search of his painful relief. At this point, Tom can’t suppress the groans slipping out of his lips anymore — and he tried biting his lower lip, he tried clenching his jaw but nothing could forbid him. He just hoped no one outside would hear his muffled cries as he pumped himself hardly, making smacking sounds out of his force.

His orgasm begins to come across, so he closes his eyes again and sees her gagging onto him with drooly lips along with watery eyes, his hips bucking against his fist helplessly. She’d take her hands from behind her back to lower both straps of her black dress and display her bare chest to him, staring deep into his brown eyes. The squelching noise out of her stuffed mouth would sound as delicious as the suctions straining his cock, those beautiful–shiny eyes capturing every reaction from Tom, waiting for his release to come.

At this point, Tom is a panting mess. Everything is hot and yet satisfying, making his head spin as he licks his own lips and feels his dick throbbing vigorously, while the rhythm of his movements grow insanely quick. His tip drools more, his hand consequently collects the wetness and soak his extension with it, making his imagination bring him to a state of bliss as it matches with the reality he wanted — his cock covered in a messy humidity, all damp, dripping and immersed in a pleasure he’d never felt before.

“Stick your tongue out,” He hisses lowly, face contorting in a painful euphoria as his touch grows sloppy. She’d be there with her middle exposed, pinching and rolling her own nipples with her tired mouth still pleasuring him. To the request, she would look up at him with puppy eyes and she just wouldn’t beg for his cum because she wouldn’t dare releasing his member before his high. Tom, in his utopia, would drop her ponytail to hold her by the chin and tilt her head up, taking away most of his length and leaving the red tip inside her drenched mouth. He trembles in both scenarios, moaning accidentally louder in broken sobs as the tight coil explodes and sends the sharpest vibrations of the most delicious orgasm he had given himself — it sparkles through all of his nerves, taking over him in a long high, the longest he’s probably had, “Take it, take it, oh…”

White and hot ribbons would fill her mouth, to which she’d open her mouth for him to see. He comes so hard his vision goes blurry and his legs start to lose stability, pants and sighs echoing throughout the tiny room. She would milk him until the very last drop, not minding how full her tongue is or how much it is holding — she would swallow it little by little, always freeing space to the last shots coming up suddenly and end it with the last deepthroat of the day, catching him by surprise.

Tom breathes in deeply as much as possible, looking down at his flushed cock still hard and the veins pumping, his own cum in so many different spots and distances in front of his tired body. His other hand goes to his forehead, fingers tugging at the short locks of his hair when he realises that this reverie brought him up to cloud nine, feeling a mix of pleasure, frustration and shame. He was so hard for her that it happened so fast, but in his mind it took an eternity — and yet his cock can’t smooth down, he fears that this desire might follow him for the rest of the month, wherever he goes.

In the elevator, thinking the whole day over and over again, Tom sighs and steps out of it as soon as the silver doors open up. When he gets out, his phone vibrates in his pocket with that signature notification sound reverberating across the hallway.

He takes the phone out, not reading the screen yet due to the sound of keys clicking together as one of the doors of the corridor gets locked. Tom decides to pay attention to the way, watching the lights identifying movements by the sensor and illuminating the space, reflecting on the ground.

Steps bang against the floor and he brings his eyes up to see the frame in front of him, crossing the opposite direction.

The black dress, putting together all of the details of his daydream just exactly.

Tom even stopped staring at the 11 number craved on his door to watch her walk by, her scent inebriating the entire space and landing onto his nostrils, intoxicating him with a shocking desire.

He totally deadpans, lips parting very timidly but in a thirst he didn’t know he had been feeding.

She winks at him, putting a strand of her hair back and smiling warmly, walking past Tom but turning around to catch the view of him doing the same damn thing. He smiles back, even letting out a little breathy laugh. Was he dreaming again?

Before he can actually do something, she enters the elevator and he concludes it’s game over. Should he run after her? Should he interview every neighbour to get information?

When Tom looks at the screen to see the time and check if it’s early or late to go after the girl, he spots a message from the doorman.

Mr. Tom, the lady on the apartment 12 asked me for your number. Shall I give it to her?

—

Taglist: @outlandishnerd – @jillanaholland – @space-holland – @snowflakeparker – @tomhollandseverything – @neverletyoufall – @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory – @peterspideysense – @fanficscuziranout

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #tom holland blurb #tom holland blurbs #mine #ficsofmine

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promiscuous-jalapeno · 4 years

Photo

Ledge

{Dimitri x F!Byleth}

Genre: N//SFW / Angst / Comfort Word Count: 1,984 Summary: Dimitri’s jealousy and tense grapple with his feelings towards Byleth come to a head. This is feral ass Dimitri post-timeskip being jealous and confused and possessive of Byleth. A/N: Happy Happy Happiest Birthday’s to @flatsuke ! I tried to get this done by yesterday but I failed im sry!! Thank you for being such an amazing friend to me, thank you for all of the laughs and late-night talks and headcanon sessions. Thank you for always being so kind and giving to everyone you meet. I really hope you like this and I hope this next year brings you so much joy ILY happy birthday <3 ! Additional Content Warnings: Blood mention, Fingering, First Time

He cared not that it was raining. The pungent smell of soil had somehow taken on an acridity to him now; only serving to remind him of the years he wandered alone, early morning sun beating down where he lay on the warm earth, the whispers from his mind begging it to reclaim him and complete the damned circle.

Another sleepless night, but at least the cloak of darkness offered him some form of respite from the waking nightmare. Her. Everywhere he went, she was. The ghost of her smile from all those years ago haunted him to this day, even when he close his eyes.

Part of him hated her. No—no, he could never hate her. Not truly. Jealous. He was jealous of her. How she seemed unfazed by the last few years. Preserved and untouched by the brutal, gripping hands of time. Still delicate and brilliant and mysterious; intricate as stained glass.

Whereas he...

Dimitri’s hands wrung themselves. Time had captured him in its unforgiving jowls. Left him bitter. Gnarled and ugly. Slicing him with its jagged teeth before it spat him out like the poisonous thing he is. His soul was not one for consumption.

Had he known what was to become of him, he might have asked her to dance all those years ago. Unburdened by the fear of appearing with all the grace of a newborn colt, the swinish steps or the sweat brought to his palms by the reality of their distance—or lack there of. And how the way she smelled would surely linger even in his dreams for weeks to come. He would have asked her to dance...

His way had been the cowards' way, back then. But, he supposed, perhaps that much hadn’t changed. If he could muster a laugh, it would be self-deprecating. Even now he felt unworthy of her touch, more so than ever before. He had no right to ask anything of her. He could barely stand the sight of his own soiled hands.

And yet, the sickening weight in his stomach and the tenseness in his jaw when he saw her whispering with a smirking Sylvain…or the way he clenched fists until his knuckles turned white when he spied her going over maps a little too closely with anyone else, suggested that as much as he like to deny it, he wanted her for himself. Even if just to bring him a remnant glimmer of the man he used to be.

Perhaps that’s what fueled his angry display earlier that afternoon, when he caught her sparring with Felix in the training grounds.

Felix behind her, hands on her hips to square her stance. His face close to hers, lips that could just as easily kiss her speaking instructions. The way his touch lingered on her sculpted arms as they swung her sword and cut the air thick with tension.

Both of them sweating, parrying each other much to Felix’s clear delight. How he could stand there drowning in his own torment whilst the two of them were seemingly lost in their own private world…as if they had not known hardship and loss…his blood was boiling by the time they even noticed he was there.

Felix jut his chin in Dimitri’s direction, scoffing between labored pants and haughtily swiping his gloved fingers through his damp hair. “Gotten yourself another craving for blood, have you, boar?” Felix spat, condescending.

Dimitri didn’t reply to the clear challenge, only gripped the training sword so tightly he was sure it might snap under the pressure. He didn’t wait for Felix to ready himself, either. His sword swung down so fiercely it whistled in the air, vibrating his bones the minute Felix countered.

“You—“ Felix grit. He had no time to question between the onslaught of blows from Dimitri.

Crack—crack, Crack. Felix met him at every turn, albeit with only fractions of a second saving his skin. Unable to rebuttal the full power, all he could do was displace the momentum of the swings, his feet digging into the loose soil at every step to keep himself from staggering.

Dimitri could see it so clearly now. How he had changed. Felix was an excellent swordsman, but his technique was a little too perfect. Too technical. Too tight. Time had made Dimitri an opportunist, even if the trade-off meant he was less than noble in order to best. He found an opening, the wooden hilt like a hammer driving into Felix’s ribs, whilst Dimitri’s elbow made contact with his jaw, sending Felix flying back and into the dirt.

“Dimitri...”

Byleth’s voice calling his name finally came into his consciousness. The sound reeked of disappointment. Had she been speaking the entire time? He had almost forgotten where he was. The training sword fell from his hand with a plunk and it’s echo seemed the loudest sound he’d ever heard.

Felix spat blood, wiping his weeping lip with his sleeved arm, piercing eyes seemingly looking straight through Dimitri. “So...he shows his true self once more. Welcome back, vile beast. Glad to see your fighting style is brutish as ever.”

Dimitri’s heart raced, hands shaking at his sides. But what scared him was the fact that they shook not out of fear or repentance for what he’d just done, but out of anger, and the withheld desire to go further still. He watched Byleth extend her hand to Felix before he ran from the place without a word.

He walked until it began to rain. He walked until it became dark, and then he walked some more. He wasn’t sure where he had been, but somehow his feet brought him back to the cathedral.

His muddy steps reverberated in the empty space until he reached the heart of the room where he stood and closed his eyes, palms open and unable to discern between drops of rain falling from his mangled hair and the tears he’s sure were there.

In between the stifling silence and the cascading drips of water on marble came that voice again. His name. “Dimitri.” Quietly spoken behind him. How had he not heard her approach?

“...Dimitri,” she said again.

“Leave me,” he warned.

No. He didn’t want to see her face. Her eyes and words dripping with understanding, or worse—pity. The very sight of her served as a reminder for how much he had changed. How lost he had become, perhaps never to be found. And worst of all, he was afraid of what he would do to her if he faced her.

“I’m not leaving you.” She repeated like a prayer, each time softer than the last, desperate to drill the message into his heart like a wedge into a block of ice.

Slowly, she coaxed him toward her, and much to his relief he saw not pity nor understanding in her eyes. Nothing, save for a blank expression, waiting—reading him. She was soaking wet, too. Had she been out looking for him all this time?

Their breathing synced in the silence. Her cold wet fingers reached for the clasp at his chest, unlatching buckles that sent his heavy, rain-sodden cloak to the marble floor. The sudden weight off of his shoulders cathartic. Then she reached to his face. Dimitri felt the pleasant sharpness of her nails against his forehead as she swept his dripping bangs to the side tenderly. Cold like ice.

He gripped her wrist in his large hand right as she pulled away from his face. She must have known what he was feeling. Must have seen the heat in his stare, or sensed the danger palpable in the air between them. He gave her a moment to run from him, then. Please, please run, he begged with every shred of restraint he had left. But she sucked in a sharp breath, took a step closer instead, and Dimitri pulled her into him by the wrist and kissed her deeply.

He had never kissed anyone before. He wasn’t even sure he had been doing it properly until she moaned against his lips, and he felt her melt a bit in his arms. That sound...and the feeling of her relaxing into him, had his sanity and self-control blurring a blinding white.

He moved with purpose unknown to himself. He was removed, entirely, from his desires. Hands he surely knew as his own were tearing and yanking at clothing before he had a chance to think his actions through. And she was pawing at him, in return.

He had touched all the places he had only dreamed of, before. Her soft breasts and pert nipples he invited into his mouth. Her thighs; the thighs of a mercenary, thick and strong and lovely. And between them, a heavenly warmth he knew he may be undeserving of, what with his thick, calloused fingers that had been tainted by the blood of those he’d slaughtered, but he plunged inside of anyway.

She let out an adorable, sexy sigh. Pleading for him to continue. “Ahh, yes...”

Clinging to his broad shoulders she let him work her until her legs began to give. And when he withdrew his hand and placed the fingers in his mouth. He had never cursed himself so vehemently for his inability to taste.

Lifting her until she straddled his hips, he lowered her onto his cock with little regard for anything but the determination to feel himself inside of her. The moment he was fully sheathed, a boyish whimper rippled from his throat, followed by a desperate growl.

With feverish rapidity he bounced her up and down on his cock, guiding her hips and elating in the way he forced a moan from her lungs with every rough slam. Their skin, still slick from rain and now slicker still with sweat, sticking together in all the places they melded.

This was better than he had ever fantasized, even all those years ago as he tossed in his dorm, dancing between the state of sleep and wakefulness, visualizing her glowing celestial in the doorway or in his bed, slender fingers slipping into bedclothes. She was real. Here—now. Accepting him inside of her despite everything he was. Clinging to him and meeting the thrusts just as urgently as he.

He slammed her back against a wall of rubble, using that leverage to fuck her as hard as he could, as deeply as he could go. Pushing everything he was and felt, every emotion and sorrow, inside of her. Tiny pebbles tumbling down among tufts of dust but neither caring. She didn’t wince or flinch, not for a moment. Of course, she didn’t...she was the strongest person he’d ever known. How had he not seen it before? She could take anything he had to give, perhaps she was the only one.

He kissed her again as his hips quickened pace, driving them both to The Divine. Each heated dive inside of her echoed an Amen in the catacombs of his mind. He had never felt a oneness akin to this. Not even shedding blood with a comrade on the battlefield. He wanted to own her, to keep her this close for all time he had left. But he knew that wasn’t possible, so instead, he settled for spilling himself inside of her.

Dimitri felt sharp teeth close around his bottom lip as he twirled his cock to feel her every inch, but he didn’t care if she made him bleed. He was committing her to memory. He had left her with His Warmth. A fraction of the warmth she had so kindly bestowed upon him in the time they’ve known each other. But a warmth, nonetheless. And though he knew he had done nothing to deserve it, perhaps by some grace of the Goddess he’d be given time enough to continue his repayment.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fe3h fic #fe3h dimitri #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri x byleth #dimileth #my writing #n//sfw

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ayyyez · 4 years

Note

Its nearly 1 am and im binging Neji fics cus I adore him and your headcanons and scenarios are the best I've come across. I crave more content so could I please, please, please get a Neji scenario where he has a crush on a girl who works in her family's tea shop and he always visits to have a cup of the special blend of the day when he can. Bury me in mutual pining and fluff, thank you.

a/n: the best you’ve come across!? WOOOOW I AM HONOURED YOU THINK SO! Thanks for your kind words and I hoped you enjoyed the binge. This is such a sweet idea, I love it it! Warnings: none just some good ol fluff

It was no secret that Neji loved tea but what he wouldn’t admit was the reason he frequented the same tea shop in the village was to see you.

The first time he saw you was when he had entered the shop looking for a certain herbal blend. You had greeted him with a smile and directed him to the counter. His eyes couldn’t help but follow as you went to a table with a hot pot of tea and began serving customers.

He was in awe to say the least.

When he came back a few days later he decided to sit down and order. There was just something about you that made him want to spend more time there. And he had to admit, your family shop sold good tea.

Watching a few servers walk around the store he prayed he had picked your section. A few moments went by when you came walking over to him wearing a radiant smile. He almost gasped at the sight of you, his cheeks warming when you recognised him and welcomed him back.

‘The blend the man recommended me last time was delicious, I wanted to try more.’ Neji admitted.

‘My father is the tea connoisseur he knows everything.’ You replied before adding. ‘Well, he knows a lot about tea but I have better taste.’ You winked at him.

Neji chuckled, feeling a little more at ease in your presence.

‘What kind of tea were you going for today...oh what was your name?’

‘Neji.’

You replied with your name before adding, ‘Pleasure to meet you. Now what sort of tea were you wanting today? Green or perhaps white? Fruit tisane? Herbal or even something floral?’

Neji was a little overwhelmed, suddenly forgetting every tea he had ever known in your presence. ‘What do you recommend?’

You thought to yourself. ‘It’s hot out so how about one of the days iced tea specials? My favourite is a peach one! It’s got peach loose leaf tisane with added fresh fruit like papaya, apple to compliment it!’

‘That sounds fine.’ Honestly, Neji barely absorbed anything you had said, he was so caught up with the way your face had lit up while explaining. He wanted it because you enjoyed it and he wanted a little piece of you.

‘Alright! I’ll bring you a jug and a little sample box to take home of the tisane!’

‘Thank you.’

Neji continued to watch you scurry around with your vibrant smile, taking other peoples orders and making small talk. It was as though everyone, by the end of the conversation, had become your friend. You truly lit up the place and in turn made him feel warm inside.

The tea you had recommended was truly delicious and the second the flavour hit his tongue he decided he would come back often. And that’s exactly what he did.

Neji frequented the tea shop every opportunity he had. Even after a long mission away the first thing he wanted to do when back in the village was see your face.

You continued to give him the warmest smiles and recommend the most delicious teas. Every time without fail he would ask for your recommendations and you would give them gladly. And every time he drank a new blend he would fall deeper in love with you.

Every time he was in the shop Neji felt content, like everything was right in the world.

Then there was one particularly strenuous mission that had taken his toll on Neji. At the end he dragged himself to the tea shop with a cloud hanging over him. He didn’t even look up when you approached.

‘Is everything alright, Neji?’ You asked, your face full of concern, your smile nowhere to be seen.

‘I just had...a long mission.’ He didn’t know how else to say it.

‘I see.’ You paused for a long moment. ‘I’m supposed to finish up now so how about I get you some tea and I can sit here with you for awhile.’

‘You don’t have-’

‘I insist!’

Before he could protest again you were gone. It didn’t take long for you to grab a pot of tea and to cups and return, now free of your work apron. Without saying anything you poured two cups of tea and the smell of jasmine overcame Neji’s senses.

The two of you sipped your tea in silence until finally you broke it.

‘Did you want to talk about it?’ You began. ‘I may not understand the whole shinobi life but I’m still happy to listen.’

Neji looked up at you and oh wow you were a bright light in his darkness. You were like a shooting star in the night sky that he wanted to wish upon over and over again. Ironic considering his only wish was you.

‘Things just didn’t go as planned and we didn’t get to complete the objective and I feel responsible.’

You reached out and put your hand on his.

‘I’m sorry that happened and that you have to feel that way.’

Neji looked down and felt his cheeks heat up at the realisation. Your hand was cool and soothing but at the same time warmed him. He wanted you to touch him more, to have your whole body wrapped around him. He closed his eyes at such a selfish thought.

‘Can we just stay like this for awhile?’ He asked. ‘If you don’t mind.’

‘We can stay like this as long as you like.’ You gave him that warm smile.

But he wanted to stay like that forever.

#neji scenario #neji #neji hyuga #hyuga #hyuga neji #neji headcanons #headcanons #headcanon #hc #hcs #fluff #i'm just so soft for this idea #tea shop worker reader #reader insert #neji/reader #nejixreader #Anonymous #Ask

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httpjeon · 5 years

Text

❝ blowing dandelions ❞ pjm ― m.

― summary:

as a child, you met park jimin. as an adult, the same jimin is much different.

badboy!jimin/reader | e2l, childhood friends | angst, fluff, smut | 7.8k ↬ content warnings: blowjob, deepthroating/facefucking, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, light pain kink, mentions of death (no one major), mean!jimin, crying, fighting, light physical abuse(he like shakes u), jimin gets in a fight, tae tries to keep the peace

a/n: it’s kind of long im sorry. also this is from a fic title game i played ages ago!

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You always think back to the summer when you were 10. It was a time where you held some of your best memories, a truly tranquil and happy time of your life. It had been the first time you left your home in Seoul to see the ocean. You and your family had rented a little home near the beach and you could always remember how much fun you had when your feet touched the ocean for the first time.

The fondest part was when you had met a little boy, his name was Jimin. You remembered his chubby cheeks and endearing smile; he was happy and bright and it was truly contagious. He lived in Busan, in fact, he lived near the ocean and since it was summer, he had all the time in the world to play in the sand.

“I’m here with my Mama!” He had declared oh so proudly while drawing nonsensical things in the sand.

It didn’t take you very long after meeting Jimin to learn his mother was his whole world, he went on and on about how much he loved her. He had told you, a sad smile on his face, that he didn’t have a dad around. It was just him and ‘Mama’.

Somewhere along the way, you found yourself developing a crush on the bubbly boy. Every morning he would come to the house, ringing the doorbell and asking if you were awake because he wanted to play. Your mothers would sit on the porch chatting and laughing while watching the two of you run around and laugh.

You taught him how to make flower crowns as well. There was a little patch of wildflowers you two had discovered one day and as Jimin watched you weave the flowers together he had begged you to teach him how to. At that age, you didn't know much about flower arranging and truthfully it didn't turn out very pretty. It was a mixture of small flower-like weeds and dandelions. His fingers shook slightly as his tongue was poked out in concentration.

You found yourself watching him with a huge grin on your face and your cheeks burning with the realization that you found him cute.

One particular evening, there were fireworks being set off and you and Jimin spent the entire day preparing to watch them. You had set out blankets and towels, even asking your mothers to prepare a little picnic for you -- which they readily agreed to.

So during that night, as you and Jimin watched the night sky explode in an array of colors that reflected off the ocean, you were happy. Small fingers intertwined together and shy eyes met; he was your first crush and you couldn't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Jimin had a certain quality about him that made you confident, you knew he wouldn't ever judge you.

Jimin was your first kiss -- at the tender age of 10 it was nothing but a little peck but it was meaningful.

As an adult, you still held to it than that soft boy from Busan that you spent 3 fateful summer months with was your first crush, first kiss, and first love.

Busan held a special place in your heart and you hadn't been able to return to the sea-side city since those days. So when you had the opportunity, you decided to apply to college there. You were eager to see the ocean again and also to escape the city of Seoul that you'd spent your whole life in.

Saying goodbye to your family was sad, heartbreaking even, but with your pet cat in his carrier and boxes of your belongings packed in the trunk...you felt ready.

The apartment you got wasn't spectacular by any means -- one bedroom and one bath. The kitchen was small and conjoined with the living room and there wasn't a designated space for eating. Still, you spent days decorating it until it was up to your tastes.

The apartment was near the place you stayed at that summer -- so when you walked outside you could smell the salt of the sea in the air. As a student away from home, your school helped you in getting a job -- coincidentally at a flower shop. It was fitting considering your major being in plant sciences.

In order to work full time, you mainly attended online courses while having to go on campus to take your exams.

You were happy.

You were working at the flower shop, Sweet Arrangements it was called, for a few months before you met Kim Taehyung. He had practically skipped his way into the shop, boxy smile and messy hair.

"Hey, you have Tulips by chance?" He asked and you noticed that his shirt was sticking to his chest with sweat.

"Yeah, you need them arranged?" You asked, resting your elbow on the desk with your chin in your hand.

"No, no I just need a couple alone," He responded, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

"They're right over there, we have a few selections for you to choose from," He followed your pointing finger, and scampered over to the corner where he squatted and began to pick a few of his chosen flowers.

"Alright," He breathes, placing a bunch on the table in front of you. With practiced ease, you clipped the stems a bit and wrapped them so they were bunched together. His dark eyes made you feel a little nervous for some reason, and you found yourself exhaling slowly to ease your racing heart. He was a very attractive man and there was no way you could deny that.

"That'll be ₩27,000,"

Flashing a smile, you took his money and wished him a nice day as he booked it out of the shop. You briefly wondered why he was in such a rush -- perhaps he forgot an important date for a girlfriend or boyfriend.

With that, it didn't take you long to realize how often Taehyung needed flowers. He would come in at least once a week asking for the same thing; simple tulips. You never asked why he wanted them until what felt like his 1000th visit.

"So, tell me why you always buy this specifically," You asked one day while you were cutting the stems for him.

"Oh, well, I actually put them on a grave," He said, smiling softly. "She really liked tulips,"

"Your mother?" You asked, immediately feeling bad for asking before shaking your head. "That was insensitive, I'm sorry,"

"No it's alright," He smiled, taking the flowers from your hands. "It's something like that. She was like a mother to me,"

"I see, well, I think it's very sweet of you to do this so much," The two of you fell into a weird silence, just sharing a strange atmosphere.

"Hey, I...I wanted to know since you moved here if you've had time to make any friends?" His sudden question shocked you, and you blinked, adjusting your position to shove your hands in your apron pockets.

"Not particularly, I mostly just work and go home," You responded, shrugging your shoulders.

"Well, I think that we'd get along really well and...you're pretty nice so...if you'd like, some friends and I are going out for dinner tonight if you want to tag along," He seemed quite sheepish as he spoke, scratching the back of his hand and biting his lip.

"Well, I get off work at 7," Your response seemed to shock him, his eyes snapping up to meet yours in wide surprise.

"That's perfect!" He grinned, a boxy bright smile. "I'll come by to pick you up and walk you there!"

You didn't get to say another word as he turned on his heel, running out the door with a final jingle of the bell. You watched him out the window, running down the street until he disappeared from sight.

The sun was setting when you stepped out from behind the counter, untying your work apron to hang on the hook for Monday. You felt your shoulders relax at the idea that you had two days off from work.

"I'll see you Monday, Kyungok!" You called the owner, who was watering the plants. She grinned, waving and giving you a small 'see you' before you stepped out the door.

"Oh, right on time!" Following the deep voice, you were met with Taehyung's boxy grin."Come on, the wing place is just a few blocks,"

As you walked, you asked Taehyung what his friends were like. You were a little nervous, it was always anxiety-inducing when you were meeting an already established group of friends.

"They're a good bunch of guys," He told you, a proud smile on his face. "Jin is the oldest and he kind of looks after us and makes sure we don't get into trouble, he also acts like the youngest sometimes. Yoongi is quiet but he seems cold but he's the quiet kind of kind but when he's drunk...he's loud, it's really fun. Hoseok is really loud and really bright, he laughs a lot and he's just really happy. Namjoon is kind of the one who we all really go to for everything, he's our confidant and he keeps everyone mellow -- really smart guy too. Jungkook is the youngest in our group and he's kind of a crackhead, he does a lot of stupid shit and usually is the reason for Jin's rage," He paused for a moment, seeming to think about something. "The last is Jimin, I'm not sure if he'll show up...he's kind of hit or miss. He's...how do I put it? He's kind of a troubled guy, he's got a pretty nasty temper and he's kind of cold but I've known him since we were kids so he's my best friend, to be honest. But on his good days he's really nice and he honestly really cares for us and always makes sure we're doing well,"

"They sound nice," You replied easily, though feeling a little more anxious after hearing of Jimin's mean tendencies.

"Here we are," You found yourself standing in front of a little out-of-the-way restaurant. There were only a few groups of people inside that you could see and as Taehyung opened the door, there was a loud cheer from a particular group of boys.

"Tae!" They called as Taehyung escorted you over.

"Guys, this is _____, she works at the flower shop!" He introduced, which resulted in several greetings and introductions.

Seokjin was a man with a beautifully sculpted face and wide shoulders. Yoongi was a small, pale guy with sharp eyes and blonde hair hanging in his face. Hoseok had the brightest smile you had ever seen and he greeted you with a warm hug (much to your shock). Namjoon wore circle lens glasses and was dressed immaculately, showing you a pretty dimpled smile. Jungkook had an adorable bunny smile that contradicted his muscular, tall build and all black clothing. Finally, Jimin who merely flicked a bored gaze to you before taking a sip of his drink.

It didn't take long before you were familiar with all the boys and even added to their group chat on your phone. It was almost startling how well you got along with them, making each other laugh and having dinner with them almost every Friday night.

The first time you witnessed Jimin's temper, however, you were sure that all the boys would never want to see you again. That you'd be cast out for making him upset like that and causing an argument between the group and Jimin.

Hoseok picked you up from the flower shop on a Friday, but instead of going to a restaurant, you were taken to an apartment complex.

"We're heading to Jimin's," Hoseok explained, a little bounce in his step and a serene smile on his face.

"Really? For what?" You were surprised, you hadn't been to Jimin's place before.

"I don't know really, Taehyung just told me to bring you here instead of the wing place," Hoseok explained, exiting the elevator onto the 5th floor which was apparently where Jimin lived.

Room 510, you remember the number being. After several knocks, the door was opened by Namjoon who grinned at the two of you -- even placing a kind hand on your head in greeting.

"Hey, you!" Taehyung called happily, coming down the stairs with a smile on his face.

"Why am I here?" You asked, taking a seat on the offered couch beside Jungkook, who was playing a video game. He still took a moment to smile and say hello when you sat down.

"Jin's cooking tonight and I thought it'd be great for you to taste some of his delicious food," Taehyung explained, dropping down onto the loveseat where Hoseok had taken a seat. Namjoon disappeared into the kitchen to presumably help Jin cook, Jungkook played video games, and Yoongi was curled up on a recliner watching something on his phone.

"That sounds lovely," You breathed, relaxing in your seat to watch Jungkook murk a bunch of zombies.

You didn't get to watch him for very long before Jin and Namjoon were setting the table with a delicious pot of shrimp fettuccine alfredo that smelled absolutely divine. Jin greeted you happily, cracking an unnecessary joke that had Yoongi groaning and Hoseok cracking up.

"Jimin, come down for dinner!" Jungkook shouted up the stairs after pausing the game while everyone else took a seat.

Heavy footsteps followed, though you were more interested in the steaming, delicious food Jin was piling into pristine white bowls. Your mouth was actually watering, it smelled divine and you didn't hesitate to tell Jin so, earning you the nicest hug and thank you from the man you'd ever received.

You learned quickly they greatly appreciated having a girl in their midst, not because they could flirt or date you -- but because you offered a nice sweetness and lightness with your femininity to the group that was otherwise missing.

The peaceful atmosphere was rudely disrupted by a harsh voice spewing curse words.

"What the fuck?" All heads snapped to the foot of the stairs where Jimin was standing with fists clenched at his sides. "Why the fuck is she here?"

"Oh Jimin," Jin greeted, completely disregarding Jimin's words to greet him.

"I asked a fucking question, I didn't invite her," His voice was so low, it was almost a growl and his chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"I invited her!" Taehyung chirped, completely unbothered by Jimin's growing temper.

"Why the fuck would you do that?! I don't want her here!" Jimin snapped, making you jump.

"She's our friend, Jimin," Yoongi spoke up, mouth full of pasta.

You were feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the way you were being talked about -- like you weren't here on top of his nasty words.

"Jimin, come on, just sit down," Hoseok sighed, frowning but looking quite concerned on top of that. "We all want her here, so let's just have a nice dinner,"

"Shut up, Hoseok," Jimin snapped, making the older man stiffen beside you.

"Watch it, Jimin," Hoseok warned, narrowing his eyes as he obviously tried to keep himself calm.

"I want you out," Jimin snarled, finally addressing you directly.

His tone of voice had you scrambling to your feet, accidentally knocking over an empty glass. With trembling hands, you picked it up and scampered back over to where you had kicked your shoes off.

"No, ____, don't leave!" Jungkook stood up, whining at you.

"Go, _____!" Jimin snapped, making you jump in surprise at his volume.

"I-I'll just head home," You muttered out, nearly stumbling in your haste to get your shoes on.

Before you shut the door, you caught sight of the boys frowns, watching you leave. You tried to offer a smile, but you're sure it didn't meet your eyes judging by the way Taehyung's shoulders slumped before the finalizing click of the door closing.

While you received apologies from the other boys, you didn't hear anything from Jimin. In fact, the next time you saw him, he completely ignored you. He showed no sympathy or any sign that he felt bad for kicking you out that night which only planted a seed in your head telling you he hated you.

Still, you were pleasantly surprised to be invited out once more after that horrible dinner night. From then on, you rarely ever went to Jimin's place -- just because you didn't know if it was a bad night or he really didn't want you around. You felt as if you were walking on eggshells around him, he made you quite nervous to accidentally step out of line.

You eventually decided to forgive and forget. You couldn't let someone's bad mood ruin good times that you could be having with your friends.

One day, you were asked to meet at your usual wing place by Namjoon. It was a bit unusual because you truly didn't hang out with Namjoon alone often, he was usually just an integral part of the group.

"So we're holding a little...get together," The way Namjoon attempted to ease you into it immediately had you on edge.

"...What are you planning?" You squinted suspiciously at him.

"I know you don't want to go to Jimin's after last time, but the party is at his place," Namjoon explained and you sighed, but before you could say anything he stopped you. "We already spoke to Jimin and we said if you weren't invited then we wouldn't have the party so he agreed!"

"He agreed to let me inside his house?" You asked, receiving a nod. "For the party?" Another nod.

"So you'll come right?" He asked, gazing at you over the rims of his glasses.

"Fine, I'll come," You sighed before immediately being brought into a bone-crushing hug.

"They'll be very happy to hear it," Namjoon grinned, beautiful dimples and shining smile.

"I'm sure," Your reply was a little dry, but Namjoon continued to smile despite it.

The two of you continued with your small lunch and you learned the boys had drawn straws to see who would have to talk you into coming.

The party was hosted on a Friday night and when you entered Jimin's apartment, you noticed how much food and alcohol there was available.

By the time you had arrived, the party had already begun with you being the last to show. Jimin and Taehyung were on the couch, both of them nursing red solo cups filled with who-knows-what. Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi were all standing around the entrance to the kitchen chatting amongst themselves. Finally, Seokjin and Jungkook were bickering over what to play on the stereo -- Jin wanted chill music and Jungkook wanted something to jam to.

"Hey guys," You greeted softly, earning all of their attention at once.

"_____!" Various cries of your name along with muddled greetings.

Before you knew it, you were pulled into the party. Jungkook ended up winning, so strong bass and beats flowed from the speakers. You sipped from the generously filled up of alcohol while picking at the bowl of chips in front of you.

It didn't take you long to realize they'd all been drinking much longer than you had because within an hour 5 of the 7 men present were passed out drunk. The last men standing were Taehyung, and Namjoon.

Jungkook and Seokjin had gotten into a drink-off with Jungkook winning because he ended up running off to puke while Jin quite literally dropped to the floor and was out like a light. Hoseok's cheeks had turned red several minutes before he curled up complaining that the room was spinning, before promptly passing out. And Yoongi, you weren't sure if he passed out or just went to sleep. Jimin, you were sure, had probably been drinking the longest out of all of them as he was the first one to tap out and fall asleep on the couch.

Taehyung and Namjoon were having a little conversation, thought you couldn't quite make out what they were saying through the giggles and slurred words.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," You mumbled, standing up and blinking several times as the room spun a bit.

Maybe you were drunker than you thought. Either way, that alcohol went right through you and you had to pee.

Scampering upstairs, you quietly slipped into the bathroom.

However, as you came back out, you couldn't help but notice Jimin's bedroom door was open. Maybe it was the alcohol flowing through your veins giving you courage or maybe it was just pure stupidity, but you slipped into his room.

The first thing you noticed was how lovely his room smelt, most likely due to the soft vanilla candle burning on his nightstand. His bed was unmade and a few articles of clothing were strewn about, including his favorite leather jacket laid across his bed.

However, the one thing that caught your attention was the big book labled photo album sitting on a shelf as if it were a shrine. You walked up to it and grabbed it, finding that there was absolutely no trace of dust on it -- it was either well used or well taken care of. Kind of strange for a photo album.

You took a seat on the edge of his bed with the album in your lap, flipping it open. The first page was a dedication page that simply said "Park Family".

Surely he wouldn't mind that much if you looked at it right? After all, it was just a family photo album. Plus this could be a great way to get to know more about him!

With that thought in mind, you began to flip through the pages. At first they were just old pictures, presumably his mother and father getting married. There were also some old highschool photos of his mother and father, and eventually you came across Jimin's baby photos. You smiled as you saw what a cute baby he was, chubby cheeks and all.

It wasn't until you got about 10 pages in that you began to notice something; Jimin looked awfully familiar as a child. As your suspicions rose, you continued to flip until you found the pictures of when Jimin was about 10.

He was on summer vacation at a beach and when you took note of a picture -- Jimin standing beside a young girl as both of them wore flower crowns made of yellow dandelions, two women stood behind them as they all smiled happily, you realized why he looked so familiar.

Fate had a funny way of playing games and for some reason she decided now was the time to start one.

Park Jimin, the bright boy who always had a smile on his face that you spent a wonderful summer watching fireworks reflect off the ocean; was the same Park Jimin who absolutely hated your very existence.

Part of you was thankful you made this discovery at that moment, because as soon as the puzzle pieces fell into place, a dark ominous voice came from the doorway.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin, turning your head to see Jimin standing there. He had his fists clenched at his sides and you swear you could see anger flashing in his eyes.

"J-Jimin--" Before you could explain yourself, Jimin was storming towards you and ripping the book from your hands.

"Who the fuck said you could go into my room?" He snapped, slamming the book closed but delicately placed it on the shelf as if he weren't even angry.

"I just...I thought..."

"You thought what?" He was growing angrier with every second that ticked by.

"I just wanted...to get to know you, but Jimin--" A harsh laugh cut you off, the man not giving you a second to get your complete thoughts out.

"Get to know me? What? So I could like you? Are you that desperate for people to like you that you have to be a little fucking creep and go through peoples shit?" He badgered you, asking questions that truly weren't meant to be answered. "I really don't see what they fucking like about you. You're a pest, you're nothing and I could go my whole life never seeing your pathetic face around me or my friends again,"

No matter how much his words cut you or how badly your eyes began to sting with tears, you still wanted to ask him one question.

"Where's your mom?"

He fell silent at that, staring down at where you still sat on his bed. Then, with terrifying stealth, he was in front of you. You could feel his breath fan your face from how close he was, his nose brushing yours and it could definitely be mistaken as him moving to kiss you if it weren't for the very apparent rage burning in his eyes.

"You..." He growled, his jaw clenching angrily. "You don't ever speak about my mother, do you understand?"

"But Jimin--" Again he cut you off, but this time he was violently grabbing you by the arm and hauling you to your feet.

You whimpered at his tight grip, reaching to push him away but his hold on you was much too strong. He was holding you by your upper arms and brought you close to him again.

"Do you," He breathed and you were sure you had never seen someone so angry. "understand me?"

When you failed to answer, he roughly shook you -- making you cry out. You couldn't understand how to boy you knew as a child could be this mean, cruel man.

"You're pathetic," He hissed, finally making the tears fall from your eyes. He simply laughed, finally releasing and stepping back. "Don't think crying is going to make me pity you,"

"J-Just listen, please," You choked out, sniffling softly when he scoffed.

"Get the fuck out of my home," He left no room for argument and you turned on your heel as fast as you could.

When you got downstairs, everyone but Taehyung was passed out. When he saw the tears falling down your cheeks and heard the little sobs come from your lips, he jumped up in surprise.

"______!"

"I'm leaving," You whispered, giving no other information as you grabbed your coat.

As you went to step out the door, he grabbed your arm -- where Jimin had been holding you earlier and you hissed. Taehyung quickly let go but didn't back off.

"What happened?"

"Don't worry about it, it was my fault," You whispered, stepping out and shutting the door behind you before Taehyung could say anything more.

As you laid in bed a couple nights later, you couldn't help but wonder what happened to Jimin. What had turned him into such an angry, volatile person that he was now. Then you thought about how he had responded to your question about his mother -- he had gotten so angry. He was such a mama's boy when you knew him, positively clinging to his mother skirt and holding her hand every chance he got.

Your thoughts were disrupted by your doorbell ringing. It wasn't too late but it was still past a courteous hour. You simply slid on an oversized cardigan that was sitting on a chair in the corner of your room.

You wished you could pretend to see Taehyung standing there, a sheepish smile on his face as he saw you. He had been blowing up your phone since that party, trying to fix what Jimin had done but you hadn't bothered answering him. It had only been a matter of time until he would show up -- and there he was.

"Hi..." You sighed at his small voice, like he was worried you would send him away. As much as you didn't want to face this problem, you didn't have the heart to send him back home. So you let him in.

It was when you attempted to offer him a drink that he opened the conversational door.

"Jimin's not a bad guy," He suddenly said, making you frown.

"Maybe not to his friends," You replied fiddling with the hem of your shorts.

"L-Look, he was mean I know!" He cried, taking one of your hands in his. "And he had no right to touch you like he did, but he's really not a bad guy. He's just temperamental and he's got some problems but --"

"What happened to him?"

"What do you mean?"

"To make him such...such an angry person?" Taehyung paused, seeming to not know how to go about responding to that question.

"It's really not my place to tell you," He finally settled on and you sighed. You should have anticipated that. As much as Taehyung wanted to redeem his best friend, he would never go about telling his secrets.

"I understand," You replied. "Well thank you for coming to talk to me Tae, but it's late and I really should get to bed,"

"_____,"

"It's okay, I'm not mad about it," You reassured, smiling when Taehyung's shoulders relaxed.

You never thought to expect that just the next evening, you would be meeting Jimin once again.

You had been asked to stay later to water the flowers and plants as Kyungok had a family emergency to attend to so you were left to lock up. However, just as you stepped out of the shop to begin your trek home, there was a terrible commotion from the small alleyway beside the shop. You weren’t going to investigate, simply planning on ignoring it and going home.

It seems fate wasn’t too keen on letting that happen because before you knew it you were sprawled on the pavement with a scraped knee and elbow.

“Oh shit!” A familiar voice had you looking around to investigate only to see the wide eyes of Park Jimin. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so…” You muttered, dusting yourself off and shakily standing up. When you met his gaze, you were unsurprised to see nothing in them -- like being here was a chore. “What the hell was that about?”

“Got into a bit of scuffle, nothing to worry about,” He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Over what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He growled, glaring at you.

“Well I feel it’s my business when you’ve literally made me bleed, you jerk,” You grumbled, your words reminding you of the burning sting in your knee and elbow. When he didn’t reply, you scoffed and turned your back on him -- ready to walk away.

“Where the hell are you going?” He snapped, heavy footsteps following after you.

“Don’t worry about it!” You mocked, which seemed to only aggravate him more because he groaned behind you. “Stop following me!”

“Why? Does it annoy you?” He sounded much too pleased with himself, he was teasing you.

When you didn’t reply, the two of you fell into silence. If it hadn’t been for his heavy boot-clad footsteps behind you, you could have been mistaken that he was gone. He didn’t speak up again for another several minutes; asking why we were at the beach. At that, you froze and looked around, coming to the realization that you were in the place from that summer.

“This is…”

“I’m going home,” Jimin’s voice had lost all teasing tone it once had, and was instead empty and monotonous.

“Wait,” You grabbed his arm, halting him from moving.

“Let me go, I wanna go home,” He snapped.

“I know,”

“You know?” He scoffed, turning to look at you now. “What the hell do you mean you know?”

“I know why you don’t want to be here,”

“Shut up,” He snarled, ripping his arm from your grasp. “You don’t know shit!”

“Yes I do!” You cried, grappling onto him again. “When you were 11, you spent a summer here with your mom in one of the little beach houses down there!”

“What?” He softened immediately at your words, furrowing his brows together. “How did you know about that?”

“You were next door to me and my mom, we hung out all summer together,” You supplied, giving a sad smile.

“You’re lying, there’s no way…”

“I taught you to make flower crowns and you kissed me -- it was my first kiss,” Slowly, his look of disbelieving turned into one of shock.

“_____...her name...your name...and your mom--”

“Sooyoung,” You supplied, smiling when he softened completely.

“How can I really believe you?”

“I have a picture…” You pulled out your phone and went to your gallery -- the glare from your screen making you squint. “Here,”

It was a picture you’d asked your mom to send you after you found out about Jimin. You had asked for it just to make sure. When you showed it to Jimin -- just a picture of you and him holding hands on the porch of his beat house, he smiled. You swear Jimin had never smiled at anything you’d ever said or done and it filled you with a fluttery giddy feeling.

Then, the smile disappeared.

“She died…” He whispered, still staring at that picture. “About 2 months after you left, there was an accident -- dead on arrival,”

Before you knew what you were doing, you were pulling him in for a hug. He was warm and he smelled just like that vanilla candle that was once burning in his room. His shoulders shook as he sobbed into your shoulder, holding you tight as you consoled him.

“I was so lonely, all I could think about was how that summer was the happiest I’d been -- with you and Mom,” He stuttered for air as he spoke. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so horrible to you -- to everyone. I was just so...angry. I still am. I miss her so much, _____,”

“I know, Jimin,” You whispered, reaching up to gently stroke his hair, making him sigh. “I forgive you,”

“R-Really?” He whimpered.

“Yeah,” You pulled back lightly, getting a look at his teary eyes and trembling lips. You suddenly realized he had a little scrape on his cheek that was starting to cause his eye to bruise. “Come to mine, let’s get cleaned up and we can talk, okay?”

Once comfortably situated on your couch, you took a moment to clean your own scapes before sitting down to carefully disinfect and take care of Jimin’s so his cheek wouldn’t scar.

Neither of you realized how close your faces were together until you felt his breath fanning across your lips. When you met his eyes, you were shocked by the intensity in them; they were dark but help such deep emotion. Then, as if moving in slow motion, he leaned in to meet your lips in a kiss.

Your eyes fluttered closed, easily losing yourself in the kiss. His fingers cupped your jaw, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss. He lead it, completely dominating you but you truly couldn't care less as he let his tongue sneak into your mouth.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and sighing.

"You're a better kisser than you were," His words had you laughing, playfully shoving his shoulder and in turn making him crack a smile.

"I was 10!"

"Well, you've gotten better," He teased, leaning in to kiss you once again.

You smiled into the kiss, your hands wandering up his chest to his shoulders to push his jacket off his shoulders. You could feel his body stiffen at the action and you could only hope he got the hint you were trying to convey. He seemed to, as he pulled away and tightening his grip on your chin.

"Are you sure you wanna do that, babygirl?" His tone was dark, full of dominant promise.

"Y-Yeah," You breathed, already feeling your body heating up at the way he was looking at you.

"Where's your bedroom?" You felt your heart speed up as you stood up, taking his hand in yours to lead down the hallway to your bedroom.

Despite the fact he had treated you horribly, you could see it in him that he was falling back into what he once was. Perhaps knowing who you were had helped taped some of the wounds his mother's death had left in him. You were from a happy part of his life and he appreciated that.

Before you could sit down on your bed, he caught you by the waist, fingers curiously inching your t-shirt up. In a flurry, you stripped your shirt off and let it flutter to the ground silently. His lips were on your neck in an instant, nipping and licking along the skin of your shoulder and collarbone. His fingers were rough, callused as he caressed you -- wanting to touch every inch of your skin that he could.

Before he could reach your bra to take it off, you were pushing his shirt up to pull over his head. The material scattered his hair, fluffing it up and making it messier than it already was. As you looked at his body, you noticed a small tattoo located on his ribs. Tracing your fingers over the ink, you noticed they were dates -- no doubt dates to do with his mother. He smiled sadly at you for a split second before pulling you into another kiss.

"Let me suck you off?" You asked, biting your lip as you gazed up at him through your lashed. He groaned, nodding his consent before you took a seat on the edge of the bed. You were at just the right height now. Mentally, you thanked the gods that you wouldn't end up with rug burn on your knees over this.

The veins in his hands bulged through the skin as he pulled his belt from the loops and dropped it on the floor -- the carpet muffling the noise. He flicked open the button, the zipper easily coming down afterwards and you felt yourself gush into your panties when you noticed he was bare beneath them.

"No underwear?" You asked softly, earning a cocky smirk from him.

"Go ahead and touch, princess,"

Truth be told, he wasn't spectacularly long but he was thick in a way they you knew would leave a delicious burn in the wake of him stretching you open. Precum beaded at the tip and as you wrapped your fingers around him, you could feel his pulse through the velvety soft skin.

Leaning your head down, you swirled your tongue around the pretty pink head of him. He groaned, fingers finding their way into your hair -- a soothing sting settling in your scalp at the force he was holding you. The deeper you took him into your mouth, the harder he got. His precum was sweet, hot, and a little bitter and you were eager to taste more on your tongue. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you were met with the sight of his lidded eyes and thick bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He was tense, eyes paying close attention as you sucked him off.

"Take me all the way," He ordered, using his grip on your hair to urge you to take him until he was edging his way down your throat, past your gag reflex.

He groaned, cussing explicitly when your nose met his pelvis. Your eyes were watering, a few stray tears tipping past your lash line. It felt dirty when his hand, abandoning its anchor in your hair to cup your throat where it was stretching and bulging as it contained his thick cock.

After several seconds, you pulled up with a soft gasp, spit dribbling past your lips and down your chin as you did so.

"Messy baby," He cooed, wiping some off your chin only to pop the digit in his mouth with a sigh. "Let me see your pretty tits, yeah?"

As he leaned over you, you took his cock into your mouth again. He groaned, but continued on with his task of undoing the clasp of your bra. When it was freed, he tossed the fabric away and stood up straight to gaze at your bare breasts.

"Will you let me fuck your throat, baby?" He asked, reaching down to cup one of your breasts as you continued to suck him off. You nodded, refusing to free your mouth of him to answer. He muttered a little praise of 'good girl' before bracing himself to begin thrusting into your mouth.

You relaxed your throat, getting used to the first few shallow thrusts -- just a little taste of what was to come.

When your hands gripped his thighs, it was like a band snapping and then he was fucking your throat. He held nothing back, making you choke and gag around him. He groaned, feeling how tight and hot your throat was around him and it only turned into a moan when you cupped his ball -- full and heavy against your palm.

"Dirty girl," He chuckled, bangs matted to his forehead with sweat.

By the time he was done, everything was messy with your spit and he was sticky with sweat. Once you caught your breath, you leaned forward to press a light kiss to the tip of him -- his precum and your own saliva mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so good," He cooed, picking up his disposed shirt to clean up your mouth and chest where you had drooled down onto.

"Thank you," You replied, a little smirk on your lips which made him chuckle.

"How about I pay you back, hm? For being such a good girl," You nodded, already feeling excited. "Lay back for me,"

You did as he asked with no hesitation, getting yourself comfortable in your pillows. He stripped off his jeans, leaving him bare before you while also giving you a little show. You decided to follow his lead to save a little work and by the time he crawled onto the bed you were naked as well.

He didn't waste a single second situating himself between your thighs -- spreading your thighs for him to expose your wet cunt to his greedy eyes. His lips were swollen from being bitten but they felt phenomenal capturing your clit between them.

"Mmm, such a pretty little cunt, baby," He cooed after releasing the bud, swirling his tongue around it to make you whine. "You're so sensitive too huh? When was the last time you let someone eat your pussy?"

"I-I--" You gasped when his tongue found its way into your pulsing hole -- moaning at your taste.

"Answer me," He growled, voice muffled.

"I don't remember! A-A little while," You admitted, feeling your face burn at the admission of not getting laid in so long.

"Hmm, how sad," He smirked, introducing two fingers he used to spread your folds. "A cunt this pretty should be eaten every day, I think,"

You face burned further at his words -- he had such a dirty mouth.

He didn't seem to expect an answer this time because he dove back in -- eating you out like a man starved. You were almost close already; maybe you were needy than you had thought. Or perhaps it was just Jimin's impact on your body.

"Ah, if you're gonna cum," He stopped, grinning wolfishly before laying beside you on the bed. "it's gonna be on my cock,"

Taking the hint, you straddled his hips. He gripped his own cock, helping you lower yourself down onto him. He hadn't prepared your entrance very well so there was quite a sting but fuck did it feel good. When you bottomed down, you were were trembling.

"Go ahead, baby," He encouraged, holding your waist as you eagerly started to ride him.

You whined, gripping his hands on your body as the pleasure began to rise once more -- remnants of your denied orgasm.

"Close?" He breathed, abandoning his hold on one of your sides to find your clit with his deft thumb. Circling the throbbing, swollen little bud had you flying over the edge into your orgasm.

"Fuck!" You cried, tossing your head back as your body trembled. Jimin groaned beneath you, feeling the way your cunt tried to milk him of his own orgasm -- which he expertly held back.

As you settled down, panting and trembling calming but you were still speared on his cock.

"Such a good girl," He cooed, sitting up to press a kiss to your lips before your world suddenly flipped and you found yourself on your back with Jimin on top of you.

He was fucking you again -- hips moving at a breakneck speed as the head of his cock nailed your g-spot with crippling accuracy. You were still so sensitive from your orgasm that you couldn't help but claw at his back -- probably drawing blood. He didn't seem to mind, however, as the prick of pain only seemed to spur him on.

You were thrown into an orgasm once again, your eyes rolling back as you cried out his name. This time Jimin couldn't hold his orgasm back -- spilling into you with a soft whine into your chest.

The everything was still. It felt like an hour passed before he moved, pulling out of you and getting up.

You felt oddly cold without him near. He came out of the bathroom with a towel -- one that was in the cabinet. You didn't really peg Jimin as one to really care enough to clean up his partner but tonight had opened a lot of doors of unexpectedness from him.

"Can I crash here tonight?" He asked suddenly as he cleaned the last bit of his cum off your thighs.

"Yeah of course," You replied easily, feeling giddy from having him with you for longer.

He crawled into bed with you -- neither of you really caring or feeling like stripping the bed or putting clothes on. It was a problem for tomorrow.

Then, under the blanket of darkness after he turned out the light, he pulled you close to his body.

"I don't wanna lose you, ____," He whispered, his breath fanning across your face.

"Me either," You also whispered, any louder feeling wrong.

"I hope you'll stay by my side and forgive me for how I've treated you,"

"I already do, Jimin," You kissed his cheek, smiling at him through the darkness. "And I'm not going to go anywhere, I promise,"

"Do you remember that summer, it was the last day and we both knew we weren't going to see each other again," He started, tightening his hold on you. "And we were making wishes by blowing dandelions?"

"Yeah, I remember,"

"I wished that I would be as happy as I was then again one day," He confessed, nuzzling you softly. "And I think I'm that road now,"

#bts smut #jimin smut #bts scenarios #jimin scenarios #bts imagines #jimin imagines #bts reactions #jimin reactions #jimin preferences #bts preferences #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic

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vanillamilkcloud · 5 years

Text

MAKE IT RIGHT || 01

pairing: jungkook x reader ft. taehyung.

word count: 4.3k

please understand that this does not romanticize abuse in any way. there is a lot of time in the recovery from it, not to mention your heart will both seek and reject any form of affection. abuse is highly wrong in any form and you should seek help if you are/know a victim.

warnings: angst, physical violence, fluff, another 500 tons of angst, degredation.

genre: 1950-60s au, [EVENTUAL] smut, fluff, angst.

chapter: 01 || 02

It wasn't uncommon for the nights of yours to be spent alone, turning in bed as the smell of cigarettes burn your nose. The putrid drug had an effect on your body though negative couldnt outweigh positive. Why would you give up the one thing that gave you sanity in this empty household? The mind could only be drawn to a blank whilst the chemicals fogged your mind in a delectable warmth.

Why was it that your body still ached for the one you called your lover? The long haired brunette, almost constantly having the taste of booze upon his lips, driving around on a motorcycle doing god knows what. You couldnt help but let out a quiet sigh. "Stupid boy." That's all he ever was. He only ever showed to your side if he needed a good fuck, or happened to be drunk and needed to yell his frustrations at someone. So perhaps that was how you ended up with a cigarette between your lips right now, red lipstick tainting one end while you sat on the porch stairs in nothing more than a sweatshirt and underwear.

The small puff of white smoke slowly dissipated in the air, [eye color] orbs glancing out to the black Fireflite. This was a bit out of order for what he usually drove. Some of the stuffs of his hair stuck out, light bouncing off the neatly gelled hair he pulled back to a man bun. Though the gel seemed to be gone along with any remainder of the 'lover' part of him. "What are you doing outside _____?" He growled out, making a sigh slip past your lips. The attire of choice and the drug induced high easily meant this wouldn't be a kind night for either party involved. When were the nights pleasant anymore though?

"How much did he have?" You called out, purely ignoring Jungkook. In the driver's seat sat Min Yoongi, the only dealer in town.

"As much as his wallet could make, sure you got him sweetheart?" Brown eyes looked up at you with a faint though genuine concern. It was widely known that Jungkook had gotten violent around you more than once, though his sober state seemed to satiate the pain that brimmed in your heart. Most wondered what it would take until you broke.

The sound of the passenger side opening cut your timing to reply short, following after the elder male. Jungkook's feet didnt seem to work coherently beneath him whilst he attempted to stumble to the door. Your arm slipped around his waist to help; Yoongi took the chance to let himself get away in the vehicle with a screech on the asphalt. The taller, high male let himself push you away without a second thought. "Get away from me you fuckin' whore." He growled.

"Jungkook-"

"Did I stutter or somethin'? Beat feet!" He yelled, your feet forcing you a single step backwards. The feeling of his eyes scanning over you felt incredibly wrong but the tone he chose couldn't help but to make you laugh at him. The way he looked with puffy eyes and greased back hair, bun falling to pieces as you both stood there. It was endearing in a way. Not in the right way though. This laugh from your lips should have sounded like a melody in Jungkook’s ears but drugs were a dangerous thing. His judgement would remain clouded for the night no matter what you both did.

“Last I checked, I also lived here,” You retorted, making your way past the taller to go inside. His eyes seemed to bore holes in your back as if you were the devil. If anything it was a beautiful form of pure destruction in Jungkook’s eyes. The feeling was something you had grown used to feeling numb from; at least for the most part, it still hurt a lot. There was no way to negate the pain though. Your shell of a lover was already cracking once again for that night.

Everything seemed to slow for what was only a few seconds, turning into hours. You had turned in the slightest to be able to see it; Jungkook had taken the bottle he left at a side table in your house before throwing it. The glass had luckily not enough force to break against your skull, though you still stumbled to the floor with a broken laugh. Such a sound didn’t seem right to fall out of your lips, so oddly broken yet full of a darkness that he could not comprehend. You let yourself take the bottle off the floor.

“Well?” The word carried so much more of a weight that shouldn’t have been possible. It took him a moment to give you an eyeroll, then a demented smile. There was nothing saccharine about this anymore. His natural bunny smile had seem estranged as his next words flew with an ease.

“What? You didn’t think I knew you talked shit about me? That you say you love me but also say im the reason for everything!” Jungkook yelled, snatching the bottle from you before throwing it to the floor. The small slivers of red dressed the bottoms of your ankles and shins as the male in front of you looked unphased. He was purely virulent.

“Maybe if you didn’t feel the need to fucking go out and cheat, then end up here only for me to put on all that make up to hide the bruises!” You retorted. Within an instant you had earned another blow, though it wasn’t deserved in the least. Nobody ever truthfully earns the right for their lover’s to treat them as nothing. Unless you happened to be named Jeon Jungkook. The tears streaming down your cheek washed what remains had been left of your makeup, the faint bruises and scratches still covering your skin. It all felt too much once again though there wasn’t a point in showing that to this man in front of you. The slim hand that went to pull your locks back with a hair tie revealed the vibrant hues painting your collar and neck. Some were ‘love’ bites, others were the marks of a choke hold from yet another fight.

Nobody could try and deny that you looked like you were fighting for your life.

“Tch, can’t even hit back.” Jungkook shook his head and you rolled your eyes. How were you suppose to? Even if you tried it was still way more likely that he’d just catch your hands, there was no way you could actually manage to get your hands to get him back. He clearly couldnt remember the times you had tried. So there was only one other option that seemed to fit in your head for the moment. Your knee went upwards at a straight perpendicular to collide with his groin, and he hunched over while you rubbed your eyes. It was a new sight in your eyes to see him as the one that was being on the ground. Jungkook’s form was refreshing in a noxious way.

[eye color] orbs looked down at him with a dull glow. It seemed to be something that you held in that threatened to bubble to the surface. Months and years of screaming, hands upon your skin in a pure route destruction, it was bound to pour over. So why wasnt there a better timing than right now? Why did he have such an insistence on keeping you around? The questions ran your head to a mush and back once again while you attempted to put yourself together.

The telephone was your first thought as your legs helped carried you to the bedroom. Jungkook had just started to get up though it clearly meant he'd be there in only moments. In the years you knew the male you had memorized a few phone numbers, one of which was the house, and the other that Kim Taehyung stayed in. Spinning through the numbers had wasted the few moments you had before the door slammed open.

"Hello? Who is it?" Taehyung's voice rang loud and clear, while Jungkook only looked furious. He didnt even bother to hang up before he was on you. Your attempts wiggle away were futile and his weight hurt just enough to make you stop, one hand around your wrist and he ass sitting on your thighs. There wasn't a way to get yourself out.

"Lil'sewer rat really called Taehyung? WowWwW~!! I'm so scared." He taunted, no care in the world that Taehyung knew fully well how to get to town, and their house.

"Get off!" You yelled, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes. Everything felt so incredibly wrong. Jungkook had leaned down to let himself whisper in your ear, that demented grin making your body shake more.

"Wouldn't you love to have him know ya's virgin? Golly bet he'd love to listen on in. Sure’d be pretty." He chuckled darkly as you couldn’t help but to try anything you could under him. The hold on your body was way too strong for comfort though and there wasn’t a hope for anything to get him off. Your ears were only faintly able to pick up the sound of the telephone once more. It had only come just as you screamed.

“I’m coming over, hang on.” There was a click, and Jungkook looked as if he had no care. This was the moment you had realized there wasn’t any sliver of love left in this state. How were you suppose to fight this? You only looked up at him with your eyes reflecting the lie of love you two shared. There wasn’t any more pretending to be happy with him. Jungkook’s head went down to press feather light kisses along your neck, making you tense though he couldn’t tell that. Nothing of this felt like how he promised. Your lover had always promised youd feel like a treasure, that nothing would be pressured. Instead you felt like a toy that he sought to break. Since when did love have to start feeling like a poison to you?

The question rang clear in your mind though it came to pass with the sharp snap of someone getting hit. That someone, was Jungkook. It took you a moment to register Taehyung’s arms around your torso and pulling you behind him. Such a touch was gladly welcomed in your heart though your body could only tense even more. Jimin’s arms let go as he could tell you weren’t comfortable. Taehyung on the other hand, he seemed to have a few words to exchange with your so called boyfriend. You looked up with tears still streaming your cheeks. It felt so damned wrong to want to protect Jungkook though you knew why more than well enough. He was where your heart remained regardless of what he could ever do to you. This was where Taehyung and Jimin were blind because any outsider would think there wouldnt be any love.

“Isn’t it the damned hero? Daddy-O couldn’t stay out of someone’s range.” Jungkook laughed, wobbling as he stood up. The male let himself lean against the wall before there was a half-assed attempt to hit Taehyung. All of the drugs didn’t provide assistance though as they served to only obscure his vision.

“What’s it to you?” Taehyung retorted. Jimin shifted slightly to stand between the two of them as a protective thing, and you took the chance to run to Jungkook’s side and hug him as tight as you could. There was an obvious amount of confusion between the other two males. Jungkook on the other hand looked even more annoyed, lacing his hand into your hair before pulling you off roughly. “Don’t fucking touch me when your body guards are here.”

“But Ju-”

“Get the hell OUT!” He yelled, Jimin blocking a punch that should have been directed at you.The orange haired male looked at you just after he stumbled, taking a moment before Taehyung held Jungkook back. It was obvious there was something terribly wrong with the relationship and it wasn’t because of you. Taehyung felt his body on such a pure edge; it frightened him. How have you dealt with this for so long? This wasn’t the way to treat your girl no matter who you were. You let yourself fall against Jimin in the response of.. whatever Taehyung said. He took you up into his arms before taking a bag, stuffing whatever clothes of yours and Jungkook’s that he could find. Jungkook’s clothes only would serve as a strange comfort while the two decided they were taking you in at this point.

With a faint awareness you were once again outside though you felt a bit disconnected. It made sense that you were once again outside though at the same instance you hadn’t recalled yourself getting there. You also were not walking so it made sense. You looked to Jimin who seemed just as distraught as you did. Taehyung was nowhere for quite some time though. You attempted to pull yourself up on two feet, though it was a shaky stance for the most part. In an instance you were once again on the ground with tears racking through your body. The mere movements made your body sore but you couldn’t help it. There was no hope in trying to act like you were okay as the truth was that you were more broken than ever; the question remained to jimin and taehyung, how had they not noticed? All the half-assed smile and when you’d tense when Jungkook touched you, or your obvious nervousness when he looked at you wrong. It had only come to click in their minds now.

Jimin pulled you into his chest despite the obvious way that you didn’t seem to want it. It seemed to show that you needed to feel like something could protect you though. If it was Jimin and Taehyung, then so be it since your boyfriend was doing a shit job.

“Let’s go!” Taehyung’s voice cut through the air like a knife. Jimin took you up into his arms, both of you briefly glancing back to your friend. Blood ran from his lip and his cheek looked swollen. It was the most either of you two could see before you bolted from the yard. It had only occurred to you how they did not seem to come in a car.

“Where’s the ride?” You asked gently, your voice hoarse from the crying and muffled by Jimin’s neck. The male had taken you onto his back for the easiest solution to running.

“Impound, we got busted last week.” Taehyung answered with a light laugh mixed between his pants. You were put down carefully as it was determined they were a safe distance from your house. With a gentle hand you took the bag Jimin grabbed, pulling a pair of pants out before slipping them on in the closest alley. You then pouted a little while examining Taehyung. The cost of your protection meant the injury of someone else. His honey skin was dotted with blood that you had no idea of it was his or Jungkook’s. Skin was obviously broken on both of his knuckles, then his lip was busted along with one of his eyes slightly swollen.

“______, don't worry about me. Please.” Taehyung flinched under your touch before Jimin pulled you back lightly. “It’s only a shiner! Y’know I’ll be okay.”

“It’s not that simple- You know how he hits.” Jimin cut in, pulling you into him as you started to shake once more. It wasn’t as violent as before but it still had you remembering previous things that you didn’t want. Nobody necessarily wanted to recall abuse though either. So much of your body ached with the same pain that coursed through Taehyung’s. It was making you want to fall once more though you wouldn't let yourself. Taehyung took the bag in the meantime from Jimin, slipping his arms around you before the smaller male took you out of your thoughts.

“I’m gonna get the gang up, you two go back to the pad.” Jimin said, weary about his leaving. There was still a chance that Jungkook had followed after you three. He was also in the best condition to try and act as a decoy. You let a small nod happen before Taehyung crouched, in agreement with what Jimin had already said. He gave a small laugh as you slipped you bag on and climbed upon his back. It seemed more of an instinct to hide your face in Taehyung’s neck before you could register it. The male didn’t mind on the other hand. Jimin gave you a warm smile, before waving and running off towards the outskirts. Taehyung walked slowly as he continued his path towards home.

There wasn’t much in the remainder of your journey to Taehyung’s home. It was more of a welcomed silence filled with the sounds of crickets and street lights that had hurt your eyes. You would whine at the occasion though it only seemed to make you both laugh. Taehyung more than welcomed the sound even if it was a broken melody to his ears. So much had happened between you and Jungkook, yet nobody saw. How was one to not blame himself? The raven was a bit better at concealing his emotions than you but he still hasn't managed fully. You knew that he considered you as a sister, at least that’s what you preferred to say. It was obvious Taehyung felt more than that though you couldn’t quite place your finger on it for the longest time. There was no harm in not knowing though. You both seemed content with it.

Over the next few weeks, nobody allowed Jungkook near you. He had asked multiple times so he could give you a much deserved apology. Nobody thought that there was anything that could be a bigger lie, even you. Your body looked like it had recovered besides the few scars he had left previously. It seemed though that your mind was much farther behind. The boys didn’t try to hug you or anything still, unless it was Taehyung. With such a long absence of affection you seemed to get adjusted with the male easily. He happily let you stay as close as you could to him as well, Jimin sometimes joining in on the affection despite the rest of the gang teased them for being gay. None of it was meant to be an actual insult though as they had understood once Jimin explained what happened that night.

“Darlin! Where ya at!” Taehyung called and you couldn’t help but laugh at his fake accent. You peeked out from the hall as you had just finished washing your face. One of Jungkook’s older hoodies donned your figure though both had forgotten who it really belonged to. The elder just came to hug you, only to squish your cheek playfully before running away once again. You let out a soft laugh from the kind action. Taehyung had grown to love teasing you with the affection you sought. There wasn’t ever a complaint from it though as both of you thought it was fun. You took a moment longer to make sure that your face was clear soap before running down the hall after him. Taehyung had carefully hidden behind the door of his bedroom, smiling warmly as you squeaked the appearance of his arms around you. He pulled the two of you onto his bed before his larger form seemed to dwarf yours. You didn’t mind it though as you curled up into him, letting out a quiet hum while you relaxed.

“How’d everything go today?” You asked gently, the topic being left vague for the purpose of him filling in with whatever he wanted. Taehyung knew at the same time though that you wanted to know about Jungkook.

“He almost got into it with Yoongi today. Otherwise we were all okay. There was a few skirmishes with Jungkook and some other gang members,” Taehyung’s nimble fingers found their purchase on your hips, drawing soothing shapes through the material of your clothing. “As much as I want to say that he’s getting better, he isn’t doll. We all know you wanna help but we dont want you in the middle of that all. Once he’s not so fiesty he can come over with me okay?”

You let a small pout pass your lips with the words, though you understood why at the same time. This wasn’t meant to be mean but rather to protect you from Jungkook’s more violent tendencies.

Taehyung hummed quietly as he felt you move yourself closer to his chest. No protest came from the male, letting you bask in his warmth. You had to lean up slightly to press a kiss to his jawline. The small action seemed so much more intimate than the previous things. Perhaps Taehyung was looking into it more than he needed to. It didn’t seem to matter much though as his lips found purchase on yours. You seemed a bit shocked by it at first, pulling back to look up at him properly. He seemed to be flushed with the realization of his own actions. You didn’t bother to say anything though. Instead, you pressed your lips back against his once more.

He was the one to remained shocked this time, before he relaxed into the feeling of your lips against his. There was a familiar taste of strawberry chapstick on his tongue now though it seemed completely new all at once. His own lips had the familiar taste of tobacco from cigarettes, something that you hated but though it was much more delightful in your opinion now. You let yourself drown in the feeling of someone actually caring for you as your mind seemed to race. There was no way this was correct in any form but you also couldn’t find to say this was wrong. Perhaps using Taehyung for your own happiness was wrong, or having you pulled onto his lap was wrong. But you didn’t fight back with it.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Taehyung asked quietly, parting from your lips with a pant. Every fiber of his being said to stop this now but he had wasted so much time in simply staying by Jungkook’s side that he didn’t care anymore. None of the ruckus outside mattered, or the door opening. You still gave him a gentle nod before relaxing into his touch once more. His teeth nipped at your lower lip with a quiet hum and your lips parted with the instinct. The yell of Jungkook’s name didn’t register in your mind before you and Taehyung were ripped apart. You had looked at the hand around your arm only to end up connecting the sounds. Of course you had to be oblivious until Jungkook found you kissing Taehyung. He looked a bit softer than he had the weeks previous, hair still just long as curly as before while his features looked at you with softened eyes.

“We’ll talk about this.” He said gently, though his eyes were lit with an obvious fire. You stepped backwards out of of the room before carrying yourself out of the door. This wasn’t how you wanted things to start and the look between the two had made you deathly scared. Outside Jimin and Hoseok were brusied but just starting to getting up, especially with seeing you dart from the yard. They had an idea of what was happening seeing that Jungkook had made it passed the two of them.

“_____!” Jimin yelled out while following after you. Hoseok took himself inside to clear the scene before the injuries were too bad.

You carried yourself as far as your legs could push you, then even farther than that, your feet burning from all the running. There were a few spots in town that only you and Jungkook had gone to so your mind pushed you towards the closest one. It was just past town to a large field, full of sunflowers that you had insisted on stealing to put in your yard on your date here. The memory seered in your mind while you crumpled into the grass in tears. He had been so much more peaceful then and then the past few weeks seemed to be a test for you both. You pouted more as you couldn't think of any recent time that your heart hadnt been in pain, though it seemed like this was your fault for once. "I'm sorry.." You whispered. [ Hair Color ] locks fell in front of your eyes. Every fiber of your body radiated in pain and you knew that you couldnt get up. Your only hope remained to be Jungkook coming to save you.

Minutes after hours passed by as you heard police sirens, and the sounds of cars being driven too fast through town. The sounds were awfully faint up until you heard a rumble. You couldn't figure out why it made you no difference to you at first. That was until you felt Jungkook's arms around your torso, him falling onto his knees while his head laid on your shoulder. He didn't say anything for a bit as he didn't know if you would end up pushing him away. But he was more than delighted to see you lace one of your hands between his own.

"______," He murmured, worried about you for once in what felt like years. Jungkook's tone perhaps hurt more than it should. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

"It's alright." The two words were all you felt you could manage at the moment. It wasn't the easiest to try and figure out to say to him and he could tell. His lips brushed over the bruise on your neck, anger coursing through him as his grip tightened a bit too much. You let out a shaky whine before he quickly released. "I'll… I'll make this right." He murmured.

#jungkooksmut #oldschoolau #taehyungsmut #fluff #btsfluff #bts #bunnyboyisntmuchofabunny #taehyungthehoe #btsfanfic #1950s bts

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wonderlustlucas · 6 years

Text

dancing through our house - kim yugyeom

⇢ prompt Feet don’t dance like they did with you.—“ghost of you” by 5 seconds of summer ⇢ pairing yugyeom x female reader ⇢ word count 2.5k ⇢ genre some fluff, but mainly heavy angst ⇢ warnings main character death; descriptions of anxiety & depression ⇢ summary In which some things are impossible to forget. ⇢ a/n this be hella sad i think i cried the whole time writing this. listen to the song for optimum sadness. my friend read this earlier and told me to quote what she said sooo: BUT LIKE EVEN THOUGH IT HITS YOU AT THE CORE AND YOUR LIKE WOW THIS IS SO GOOD YOUR ALSO LIKE FUCK THIS AUTHOR CAUSE WOW IM CRYIN

“You’re too pretty for a shitty place like this,” you commented boldly; however, no trace of humor laced your tone and, casual as ever, you took a long gulp from your red plastic cup as Yugyeom leaned against the marble island, speechless because he was the one that spent hours planning for this moment. He was the one that had an insufferable crush on your pretty face from the moment he tumbled headfirst, literally, into your life. Days had rolled into weeks which rolled into months and he simply could never bottle up all his feelings and serve them as they were, “Today’s the day,” he told himself practically every morning, yet as soon as he marched into the lecture hall with the courage of an ex-One Direction fan slash current K-pop fan and found you so, so effortlessly beautiful amongst your circle of friends, his tail shot between his legs and, alas, “Tomorrow. Tomorrow’s the day.”

And so, when Yugyeom’s first ever university end of year party rolled around, BamBam, Jeongguk, and Mingyu thrust an absurd amount of shots down his esophagus and propelled him like a rocket to where you concocted some sort of drink, he was ready this time. He was going to grab the bull—no, not a bull, you’re too pretty to even be labeled as some sort of animal—by the horns and spill out every last ounce of his emotions until his lungs collapsed, whether you remembered him from the first day of freshman orientation nearly six months ago when he oh-so-gracefully smacked your iced coffee right out of your hands or not. He was here now, prepared to do whatever it took to sweep you off your feet, not vice versa.

“You didn’t give me a chance to get to the good part of this conversation,” Yugyeom grumbled, ruffling his hair with his hands, he saw—he saw your eyes follow the motion and his heart absolutely picked up to a detrimental rate. “Wait,” you smiled—or was that a smirk you were hiding?—and added an ungodly amount of rum to your cup, “I think this is where you’re finally going to tell me how you feel and I’d rather embarrass myself drunk than embarrass myself sober because, I’ll have you know, I nearly shit my pants every time I see you.”

Suddenly Yugyeom’s tongue was pulsing like a heart in his very dry mouth and he most definitely misheard you—right? “Is that a good shit, or a bad shit?”

You laughed, a sound so sickly sweet he fleetingly considered smashing his head through the wall until your answer blessed his ears, “Nah, it’s a good shit. I heard you were head over heels for me, or something like that, back in January and I thought you’d come talk to me but—ah, never mind. Needless to say, we were both dumb for not just speaking up.”

“Does this mean if I ask you on a date you won’t reject me?” Yugyeom let out a shaky laugh, mesmerized with the way your skin glowed under the kitchen’s dimmed lights, he fought the urge not to cup your face and instead opted for stepping closer, breathing in your rosy perfume and nearly losing his shit, when you responded with a bashful smile.

“Yeah,” you sighed, much more breathless than you’d like to be, “you don’t have to worry about that anytime soon. Unless, of course, you’re a total dickhead or a terrible kisser,” you snorted, a noise usually found unpleasant but Yugyeom wanted nothing more than to prove to the world no fresh-out-of-the-pussy puppy was cuter than you; however, his prize-winning grin faltered when you went on, “which by the way, I think we should totally test that out. You know, in case you are a terrible kisser and I have time to back out of this dating proposition.”

Yugyeom didn’t need to be asked twice and yanked you forward so quickly you yelped, but, the gentleman he is, steadied you against his chest and dipped down to kiss you without a single drop of hesitation. His lips found yours effortlessly, heart singing with joy when you gasped against his mouth but melted into his arms nevertheless, his tongue ran along the seam of your lips, and he could just barely taste a hint of Doritos cheese as—

The shrieking of his cellphone like an angry rattlesnake renders Yugyeom’s peaceful dreaming of the beginning of his relationship with you nearly 3 years ago cut short-lived, he lets out an aggravated groan, slapping around the mattress aimlessly for the device before pressing down on the off button to shut the annoying blaring off.

Brain still clouded with sleep, Yugyeom flips onto his stomach and sighs blissfully, stretching his arm out to the pillows on the left side in order to determine whether you’ve already left for work or not.

Upon feeling the icy touch of the sheets Yugyeom rolls over to your side, relishing in mornings like these: he’s home, you’ll be home soon, he can spend the rest of the day—the whole day!—with you. Cheek pressed against your pillows, Yugyeom inhales a hefty breath of your scent, filling his lungs and brain with the jasmine and vanilla perfume from your shampoo. He smiles into the coolness of the downy pillow, contemplating whether he wants to send you good morning meme until, like a shit ton of bricks dumped on his head, the weight of the world falling on his shoulders, the realization hits Yugyeom slowly, cruelly.

He realizes, upon impact, that whether he texted your phone or not—you won’t answer. He could text you a million times a minute, call you even, and you wouldn’t answer because you’re not here. Eyelids fluttering open within milliseconds, Yugyeom jerks away from your side of the bed with a choke, clawing the sheets as he flies from the bed, nearly crumbling to the floor but catching a grip against the windowsill. You’re gone.

Breathless and with your smell multiplying like cells in his senses, Yugyeom reaches for the closest thing—one of his pillows hanging lopsided off the mattress—and pelts it to the wall across from where he stands, heaving, watching with disappointment as it thumps against the brick lightly and, consequently, not unleashing any of his pent-up emotions. Your beautiful heart isn’t even beating.

But he knows if you were here, you’d tell him he would be just fine.

The red and black and white grain muddling Yugyeom’s vision begins to clear as he chokes on air, the briny taste of tears enters his mouth when he licks his chapped lips and when did he start crying?

Six feet underground. Like the past thirty-three days, Yugyeom blinks away the rest of his tears and waits until they’re dribbling down his cheeks to wipe them, he lets out a shaky breath and proceeds with his day, plucking up the pillow and setting it back on the bed like you would’ve asked him to.

When he leaves the bedroom and makes way for the kitchen, he winces at the eerie silence of the apartment aside from the incessant percussion of birds singing outside the living room window and occasional creaking of the attendants an apartment above and decides some Chris Brown could do. Swinging open the refrigerator door, Yugyeom sighs at what’s inside—or, better, there lack of—and decides, he really needs to go grocery shopping; a half-empty gallon of milk, three eggs left in the carton, what’s left of the sliced bread, and four bottles of soju that has turned into medicine to cure his headaches and panic attacks rather than a way to enjoy nights like he used to with you.

Despite the persistent growling from his gut, Yugyeom only reaches for the milk, sets it down on the counter and hums—he hums!—something so insignificant but something he hasn’t done since your accident as he reaches for the dishwasher and pulls the door open. His humming stops when he catches sight of your coffee cup inside, mauve lipstick stain faded even more from the day before and he knows if he wants it to stay he has to stop using it every morning, but a part of him cannot help but reach for it because it’s just another part of you.

His stomach churns and keeps churning and suddenly Yugyeom’s head is heavy and saliva is flooding his mouth and he’s burning hotter than the star that keeps our planet alive and he scrambles to the stainless steel and heaves into the sink, expelling everything from his belly, which, ultimately, is nothing. Yugyeom dry-heaves, once, twice, before inhaling a shuddering breath, drool dripping from his lips and down his chin until he hastily wipes it away. With his appetite stolen like a rug whipped away from beneath his feet, Yugyeom slams the dishwasher door closed, the contents angrily rattling inside, and leaves the milk on the counter for he could not give less of a shit.

A cold shower fixes everything, love, you would say, the cold-shower freak yourself, he nods to himself, a cold shower will do, Yugyeom makes way for the bathroom and strips from his clothes that seem to stick to his sweaty body, twists the shower knob just slightly so the stream is at its coldest possible temperature before whipping aside the curtain and stepping inside. Yugyeom shudders at the contact of water against his skin, goosebumps spreading across his body head to toe and he presses himself against the wall, shivers wracking his body, squeezing his eyes tighttighttightuntil it all goes away, until he’s numb, until your standing beside him again.

His body, at some point, numbs to the frigid water and he finally backs away from the wall to stand underneath the shower head, running his hands through his raven hair, rubbing the crust away from his eyes, washing up quickly and using your body cleanser instead of his own. When Yugyeom’s finished, he dries off quickly and wraps the towel low on his hip, but frowns when he enters your bedroom because you’re not there to tell him how hot he is and how lucky you are, in which he would tackle your cute ass and smother your face in kisses, which, eventually, lead to his towel on the floor and your clothes dropped next to it.

A dinging notification from Yugyeom’s phone still buried beneath his pillows snaps him back to reality and he wanders over, scrolling through his notifications from the newest to the oldest.

DabDab🤮– 1:42 PM Hey bud. Hope ur getting there. Call me

Missed Call from DabDab🤮 – 11:23 AM

Missed Call from 🅱️eon 🅱️eongguk – 10:14 AM

Yugyeom sighs—he knows he should be grateful his friends care, but he simply does not care enough for himself to constantly answer their nagging questions. He contemplates ignoring it, he could shove the device back under the pillows and answer it tomorrow like he usually does, but he’s gone three days without talking to one of them and so, guilt makes up his mind and he’s tapping away until BamBam’s voice disturbs the deadened ambiance Yugyeom’s created in your bedroom.

“Hey! You called,” BamBam’s voice fills the hair, Yugyeom can almost see the smile, and falls back onto the mattress.

“I called.”

“I know you don’t want to talk, which I understand. But I want you to do me a favor,” BamBam goes on, Yugyeom pinches the bridge of his nose, biting back a sharp retort, “I want you to use that damn well-spent studio the two of you have in your apartment and freestyle. Just an hour. I know you were coming up for a choreo to something, I don’t know, but go do that.”

Yugyeom pauses, considering the idea, but shuts it down quickly because he does not want to do anything but lie here, “I can’t. Not today.”

“Yugyeom, you’ve said that to everything. I know you’re not doing anything, and I don’t blame you. But if there’s one thing you still have and love, that’s dancing. And I’m not arguing with you over this. Please, just do this. For me.”

Yugyeom hears the crack in his best friend’s voice, he can feel the pain through the phone, another ache to add to his poor heart, “I can’t go in that room without her, Bam.”

“You’ve had dance before you had ___, Yugyeom. You shared dance with her, you grew with her from it. You can do it without her. Do it for her, she’d be proud. Okay?”

Yugyeom swallows the lump in his throat, the tears threatening to spill from his burning eyes and his bottom lip trembles, “Okay.”

“Okay. Don’t say okay again, I’m not Augustus Waters,” BamBam chuckles, sniffling on his line and Yugyeom knows he’s crying too but manages to crack a smile, “okay. Fuck! I said it again. Alright, go dance your heart out for a little and take care of yourself. Also, don’t be a stranger. Please.”

Yugyeom nods, digging his knuckle into his eye to stop the tears, he croaks out, “Okay. Thanks, man. See you.”

He hangs up a moment later to let the tears spill freely.

An hour later, Yugyeom stands in the doorway of his—your—dance room, glaring questioningly at the mirrored walls around him, his pitiful reflection staring back at him. Do it for you, he tells himself, stepping inside and clicking the door shut behind him.

Yugyeom stretches his tense muscles, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror in fear he’ll back out or conjure up a mental image of your bruised and bloodied body in the hospital, he mustn’t think about it or else it’ll only get worse. He scrolls through his downloaded songs, zoned in on something other than you for the first time in weeks, going back and forth between a few options before caving in to another Chris Brown bop he cannot get away from.

Just like before, Yugyeom tells himself after his first slip-up, swinging his leg too far to the side and so he begins again, carrying himself with utmost grace and sharp, fluid movements but he shakes his head a minute and a half in—not good enough. “One, two, three, four,” he whispers to himself, starting from the top for the seventh time, he glides and twists and pulls and—

And he blanks hardly thirty seconds in, pausing, staring into his reflection, shuddering for oxygen, long hair tousled from the quick movements, limbs screaming at the sudden usage, and he can’t wrap his mind around what follows next.

“I can’t do it,” Yugyeom says to no one in particular, balling his fists at his sides before collapsing onto the smooth laminate, he looks to the corner of the room and if he squints hard enough, he can imagine you standing there, telling him he can do it, but his tears blur his vision so he buries his head between his knees, “I can’t do it without you.”

And Yugyeom cries for the thirty-third day, for his feet don’t dance like they used to with you.

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tammyhybrid21 · 6 years

Text

Synesthesia

The world a Symphony of Sensation

Okay, I’ll start this off with the simple statement that I have honestly no idea whether I have this or not, because it might just be... well I am sensing things all the time anyway, or just... honestly I think some of this is just... well that’s for everyone right?

So... I am really not sure how much I can talk about it... but that sub-heading up there. A Symphony of Sensation... that’s how I experience the world. For real.

I mean, it’s kind of hard to explain because a lot of the time, it’s... kind of like someone left the background music on in a way. Could I explain what sense that is? No, not really, could be sight, smell, taste, or even touch, or hell emotional input... but I’m pretty sure emotions translate into physical sensations.

People can feel prickly or scratchy sometimes, false or plastic, painted on smiles, or overly bubbly. So you know. I don’t think that’s right. But there is the background music, separate from the music I hear when it’s playing in my headphones or on the radio or even when I’m singing.

Voices in writing, a chorus and a story is a harmony. An animation I can watch over and over and-

Isn’t that strange? I read a story and it plays out like a movie in my mind, a full animated movie with voices and music and everything, but when I try to do actual visualization exercises all I can get is a word picture... literally words, I can translate an image to words and words to images, but can’t properly visualize it on its own...

Aphantasia

But yeah...

Names have feelings, and it’s weird because yeah I might say it doesn’t sound “normal” enough, but what does that mean. Well I mean normal as in basic, as in kind of rough, but not unpleasant, kind of your average sense, something mundane... Or for example a few of my OCs, I named them because it felt like a certain colour, or had a certain sensation that went with it that was just yes! This is the right name!

Also why a few of my characters don’t yet have names, while others get them near instantly.

Such as Rico, or Smoke, or hell even Hooky who’s name has changed, a lot. But you know what, that’s because the name has to match, it has to feel right. And I can’t just absorb headcanons unless it fits into that harmony. It has to flow and roll with everything else, like a symphony of sensation. Is it a certain sound, a certain feeling? Has to work right.

Rico is a bubbly boy, a high note and a jaunty tune, fittingly curious, and it works. Feels like a good name, there’s a reason I particularly lean to Witty(@im-fairly-whitty)’s Ruy and her interpretation of that one crossing agent; Helena, they both feel right, have that harmony that flows and fits with the rest of the world and who they are.

Also, on the other hand, why I can’t handle Villain-AU, because Héctor’s harmony is off, it’s wrong like a band that knows the notes but everyone is playing the wrong instrument and trying their best. Broken pieces, a little too sharp.

Also, on associated senses...

Taste and Scent

Scent and Taste

One translates directly to the other and that might be why I hate coffee so much. Because it’s kind of... an oxymoron? I mean, here’s the thing. Both of those senses directly translate to one another, when I smell something I also taste it, and when I taste something it immediately has a scent that goes with it.

Which for some things is obvious, cigarette smoke all around is just bletch, chocolate is sweet, and has this kind of powdery smell I’ll be honest... And then there’s coffee, which confounds me.

I love the smell of coffee, love that toasty smell, the slight tint of a bitter twist, and the taste that goes along with it, settles and dances in your mouth... But then I taste it and it’s immediately flipped on it’s head, bitter and gross, and with this kind of acrid after burn smell, and it’s like ??? why do you betray me like this? How dare...

So I think, that honestly, leave me to make it, don’t make me drink it. The smell and associated taste there are good, but the taste and associated smell are bad.

But you know... all this might just be autism things...

I hear the world in a harmony. Constantly with some background music. I read stories and get full on animations, and sensations. Names have feelings to them, songs, or snaps of music. Emotions have feelings, and it prickles over my skin, hypes me up energy wise. Tastes and scents trade off with one another and what I taste has a smell and vice versa.

But mostly... It’s music and feelings.

Everything, has a bit of music to it. Everything, or a feeling, and I’ve talked on colours before... Because still, that’s not even touching how colours sound to me. Red is loud, green as well, although green is the softer of the two, and red a lot fiercer and pay attention to me! Yellow, blue, all of them have snaps of sounds, and it’s why I can reflexively get huffy about even my own character designs.

If the colour is out of harmony with the name, and character, then it won’t fit... Go back try again...

Again, it’s funny I can’t visualize, but can build a word picture. So it’s good I get harmony and voices from words, a feeling and a sensation. Sometimes a story is a warm blanket I just want to wrap myself up in, other times it’s like broken glass, or a hard rock that I don’t want to touch, boring like paper, or who knows...

I really, really don’t know how to describe how I experience things...

Because it’s all I like the way this story feels and sounds but explaining it all is like uhhh?

I dunno.

What do you want me to say okay? I hear things a lot, I feel things a lot, and it’s hard to explain how it works. A story can really pull on me, and headcanons need to have a harmony or I will literally pull away because that’s discordant and I hate it.

So what’s my life, a track of background music, and a bunch of touch sensations. Which is alright I guess. I mean, I’ve sometimes said of a character they feel like they’re a blue person, or a red one, or yellow.

...

Okay, for a slight simplification of all this, this is basically what triggers what(vaguely in order of what’s strongest as well:

Words - touch and music

Names - touch, colour and music/voices

Taste - smell(and vice-versa)

General Sensory Input(?) - background music, touch and taste

Emotions - touch

Music - touch and taste

Colour - sound and touch

Voices - emotions and touch

#Synesthesia #I've never stopped to think about it before #THybrid Speaks #Mostly in terms of stories and characters #It has to feel in harmony #and work with the music and...#Just some babbling to get my word count done #And reflect on life #I feel things a lot

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joohoneyhoe · 6 years

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Bite Me: Epilogue

info: im changkyun x oc genre: smut, angst, fluff, mentions of blood, a bit of gore, unprotected sex word count: 2k a/n: welcome to the epilogue for Bite Me, enjoy and don’t hesitate to tell me what you think.

{three years later}

The way her white hair cascaded around my face as she rode me, her body being held up by only her hands as I trust up into her. Her shoulders and chest littered with my mark of possession, along with trails of that beautiful crimson blood of hers. The sound of her breath in my ear was enough to drive me mad, wanting nothing more than to taste her again.

But, we had rules and her human body had limits, much to our disappointment.

She was the one mortal in this world I could tolerate, having spent the last few years with her at my side, I grew to cherish her. All of her, not just what she could give me. Her intensity matched my own, along with her low tolerance for bullshit. She was my queen and I couldn’t imagine anyone else at my side anymore.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I told her as I held the sides of her face, hands moving up to tangle into her hair as I brought her lips to mine, but refrained from connecting them. If I did, I would be done for, and that was the last thing I wanted.

“Bite me.”

She gasped out when I snapped my hips just a little harder, biting her bottom lip to hold back a cry she knew I desperately wanted to hear. Her self control had become impeccable over time, making our sex life that much more interesting. We could go for hours now, barely stopping to catch our breath most nights. Her stamina was absolutely astonishing.

“You know I can’t, love. I’m past my limit.” I reminded her, my fingers gripping the flesh of her ass as I rocked her against me even harder. She used her hands to push herself up and placed them on my chest, digits intertwining into the chains she loved so damn much.

“I don’t care. I want you to. I need you to.” I audibly groaned as she rotated her hips over top of me, that mischievous smirk tempting me so. It had gotten very hard to tell her no, and she knew that.

“Sweetheart, I can’t. The last time I went over my limit, I almost killed you.”

I forced myself to sit up, pulling my body flush against hers and stilling her for a moment. She placed her long fingers on my face, pressing her forehead to mine as I remained inside of her, aching to move, but knowing I needed her to hear me. I wouldn’t be able to bear living without her at this point.

My life would be meaningless.

“I would die happy then.” she confessed, stroking my cheek as she gave me a small smile. I shook my head, not even wanting to imagine the possibility of that ever becoming my reality.

“Petra, no. I-” her index finger touched my lips, silencing me. I could see her pale green eyes begin to well with tears, but she was keeping them at bay as best as she could. If I had a beating heart, it would have stopped right then and there at the sight of her.

“We both know I won’t be this young forever, Changkyun. At least this way, I could die knowing I gave you what you needed and that I got to spend the best three years of my life with you.” the tears finally came, her trying to hide her face in my neck as they did. I took her chin between my thumb and index finger firmly, but gently at the same time as I lifted her eyes to mine.

“Let me change you.” I proposed, searching her face frantically. I could not go on knowing that I would outlive her anymore.

I refused.

“Changkyun, I’ve been told dozens of times that it’s only done when a vampire discovers their one and only mate. The one they know they could spend eternity with and only them from that day on. No exceptions. We both know that’s not me. You don’t love me like that.” her words stung, making me clench my jaw in response.

How wildly untrue that was.

“You’re wrong.”

I stated plainly, carefully tumbling down onto the mattress and rolling on top of her. Her hair spread out around her, bits of her own blood staining the ends from where it had come into contact with my markings. I slowly pulled out of her, wanting her to know how absolutely serious I was in that moment.

I kissed her forehead, her damp cheeks, the tip of her nose, her chin and continued making a path along her jaw. I loved every inch of her, from her head to her toes and it was about time I told her that.

“You are my mate, Petra. I will never want another for as long as I walk this godforsaken place, I can promise you that. There is no one else like you, and no one else better for me than you. I would rather die, than spend eternity without you by my side.

Because I love you and only you will do.”

“Do you really mean that, Changkyun?” she questioned, the pads of her fingers tracing over my blood stained lips.

“I mean it, Petra. I really do. I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” she chuckled softly, bringing me down to her, pressing our foreheads together again. This was something we had done to express our affection to one another for years, and I never realized how much I loved it, until now.

“It wouldn’t have been right if you had.” she explained, toying with the hair at the nap of my neck. When had I become so soft for her, and how had I gone my whole life not experiencing this feeling? I couldn’t even remember what my life was like before her, and I didn’t want to either.

“I love you.” I whispered into her lips, kissing her tenderly. She hugged me around my neck, pressing into the kiss. That urge to be inside her returned as her tongue swiped across my bottom lip, making me open my mouth greedily to let her in.

“I love you, Changkyun. Now fuck me, please.” she ordered with a small laugh, reaching down between us to line my cock up with her entrance once again. I pushed into her roughly, a sigh passing her lips in relief.

Normally, our sex was rough, almost violent. But this, this was very different for us. I found myself moving slowly, calculated and with purpose other than making her cum. I wanted her to feel me and my love for her. She seemed to understand that as she kissed me passionately, whimpering into my lips as she did.

“Are you ready?” I asked her, stroking into her languidly, my fangs beginning to protrude. She nodded, arching her back upwards to present her chest to me.

“Remember that I love you.”

“Always.”

I sunk my teeth into the spot right over her heart, that sweet life force I had discovered I couldn’t live without filling my mouth as I pulled it from her. I felt her body begin to go limp, her legs falling from my waist and her arms from around my neck. Slowly I drained her, feeling her heartbeat sputter, her pulse quicken to try and push the remaining blood to her heart in desperation to keep her alive just a little longer.

There was barely anything left in her as I forced myself to let go, breathing deeply as I brought my wrist to my mouth. I ripped open the flesh there, her blood and mine gushing out as I brought it to her lips. What life she had left pushed her to wrap her mouth around the wound, letting our intermingled blood slide down her throat.

Soon enough, I felt her begin to stir beneath me, her eyes still closed as she started to feed off of me on her own. My body reacted to it immediately, my once stilled movements no longer needing to remain that way. I felt her fingers skim my arms, all the way up to my hair, her legs wrapping around me once again.

She pulled away finally, inhaling sharply as her eyes shot open. Their once pale green hue gone, replaced with an amber colored one for the time being. A smirk slowly crawled across her lips as she gazed up at me, my hand moving to rest back against the mattress beside her head, blood staining the spot.

“My turn.”

She grabbed me by the back of the neck, bringing me down to her, her newly developed fangs sinking into the side of my throat. She was giving me her own mark of possession, showing the world I was hers and only hers.

I had taught her well.

I sped up my movements inside of her, hips crashing against hips, the smell of sex and blood filling my senses. She released me, head falling back onto the bed, my blood staining her lips and leaking from the corners of that pretty mouth of hers. She constricted around me, loud moans leaving both of us as we chased our high.

My fingers dug into her hips as I slammed into her as hard as I could, knowing I could no longer do her any harm. She let out a loud cry of pleasure, releasing onto my cock as she did. As soon as she did, I felt myself explode, my cum painting the walls of her tight cunt, my head falling forward to press against her chest as I groaned. She held my head, her fingers tangling into my hair as she whined, her body starting to become overstimulated with my continued thrust.

I finally finished milking myself dry, pulling away from her and lifting my head to bring my mouth down onto hers. She kissed me back hungrily, smiling into it as I remained lodged inside of her. After I pulled away to look her in those eyes I had fallen so deeply in love with, they returned to their so familiar green, her fangs also retreating.

She was even more beautiful than before, and I didn’t even know that was possible.

“Welcome to immortality, my love.”

“Changkyun, where the hell have you been the last five days?”

Jooheon called to me as I walked through the doors of our club, hands in my pockets as I leaned against the door to the VIP lounge. He eyed me suspiciously, taking a seat in his favorite spot as he did, legs spread wide as his arm hung over the back of the booth.

“And where is Petra? You literally never let her out of your sight.” Wonho chimed in, sitting down in a different booth and crossing his thick legs as he peeked around me to see if she was there.

“Oh, don’t worry, she’s coming.” I informed them with a smug smile, eyes darting to Hyungwon who was raising an eyebrow in my direction from the opposite end of the room. I kept my face composed, remaining against the door as the rest of my brothers came into the lounge, all equally confused.

I felt her presence behind me, her hand sliding around my waist as she entered the threshold. She was dressed in all black, the dress she wore long with a slit running almost all the way up to her hip bone. I couldn’t keep the pride filled smile from my lips any longer, my eyes drinking in all of her.

My creation. My lover. My mate.

Jooheon gave me that devilish smirk of his, getting up from his spot across from Shownu and approaching us slowly. I watched Petra’s eyes flash that amber hue, then quickly revert back, Jooheon not missing a thing. He leaned in closely to her, his dimples making deep indents into his cheeks as he grinned.

“Welcome, sister.”

#i.m smut #monsta x smut #i.m scenarios #changkyun smut #kpoptrashtag #monsta x #im changkyun #monsta x i.m #i.m #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x scenarios #changkyun

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another-mentalhealthblog · 3 years

Text

It all started out with a waffle.

Yesterday morning, I woke up relatively early. It was a Saturday, and I woke up before 7am. I believe this was largely because I woke up to the smell of waffles.

My dad made waffles on his waffle iron, something he now does on occasion, but something that he always used to do when I was a kid.

And that’s the thing.

As a kid, after I grew out of eating cereal, I would always eat two waffles with butter, syrup and a glass of apple juice as my breakfast in the morning before going off to school.

As a child, I didn’t think anything of this. I didn’t think about the calories, the carbs, the sugars, the fats... how “healthy” or “unhealthy” it was for me to be eating that at the beginning of every day.

It was just my breakfast, and it tasted delicious. And that’s all that mattered to me.

But somewhere along the way, the relationship that I had with food changed.

It started when I was a sophomore in high school.

I got out of my first, long relationship. Two years. And needed something else to fixate on, I guess. So I turned to my body.

I began to look at myself in the mirror and realize I hadn’t been taking care of myself, and I didn’t like the way I looked. In reality, there was nothing wrong with the way I looked.

But I told myself I had too much fat on my stomach area. And I didn’t like the way my thighs touched.

So I started working out more, eating “cleaner” and “healthier,” and overall... less.

This is when I started to look at food as “good” and “bad,” ... “healthy” and “unhealthy.”

Food went from just being food... to having all of these different labels and categories.

I even had a calendar hung up on my wall where I would circle the date in green if I had a “good” day where I worked out and ate “clean” and “healthy” all day... in yellow if I felt like I slipped up and could’ve done better... or in red if I didn’t work out and didn’t eat within my clean and healthy standards.

All of these things were aimed around one, singular goal, of changing the way my body looked on the outside, so I would feel more confident about myself.

Little did I remember, that there is so much more to being confident than how you look on the outside.

A whopping seven years ago, I also created my first health and fitness blog on Tumblr, called Believe and Achieve. Where I would reblog transformation photos, photos of girls with flat, toned, tanned stomachs, almonds, fruits, vegetables... everything related to weight loss and shrinking yourself smaller.

On February 27, 2013, I wrote a text post, entitled, “Goals.”

My goals were to exercise every day and keep eating healthy meals and snacks. To not let an unmotivated attitude take over me again and make me lose progress. Keep eating healthy and keep exercising. To make money from babysitting to consider paying for a plan to go to the gym more. To go to the gym minimum of twice a week. To not skip more than a day a week and don’t indulge when it’s “really not necessary.”

I said, “It takes three months. By the end of May and the beginning of summer I will be so happy I started now and not then. I have to get there but I have to start now."

I can go on and on and on about the things I used to write on this Tumblr. I used to be so, terribly hard on myself when it came to eating and exercising. Let us just visit two more, shall we?

Another post I wrote was... “A healthy lifestyle sucks somedays, and today is one of them. I hate how i have this huge weight of guilt on my shoulders after eating three moderately poor meals today and not having time to workout this week. I feel like such a failure. i hate feeling so damn bad for eating things that i wouldn’t have considered “unhealthy” this time last year. it’s good that my eyes are opened and I can tell the difference between healthy and unhealthy, but this guilt thing for eating things that I consider unhealthy now and not working out even though I really didn’t have any time is the worst.”

And another post I wrote was... “someone please help. I NEED to know how to not binge :( i literally can’t have sleepovers or go to parties or vacation without over eating crap food and i know that’s not awful to do every once in a while but i feel like this month i’ve been doing it way more than every once in a while, so it’s not “okay” anymore. and all it does is make me feel bad about myself: while im doing it, all night after i do it, and especially the next day, but i keep doing it. and if i binge really bad then i honestly loose my appetite and don’t want to eat the whole next day even though i know my body needs nutrients. i know im wrong, but i feel like all of this binging has wiped away all of my hard work that i started in the spring because honestly my stomach has definitely gotten bigger and i’ve lost sight of the muscle i was building. if anyone took the time to read this please send me an ask with some advice, i need it.”

And one last post: I constantly caught between wanting to eat 100% clean and healthy so that I see more results, and wanting to enjoy life and being a teenager. I know that sounds silly because if I just dedicate myself to eating clean (or at least cleaner than i do now) for a few weeks, I’ll grow into it and it’ll become a habit and i can still “enjoy life” and “be a teenager.” I also know I can make unhealthy choices in moderation here and there too. but I feel like my unhealthy choices (ex, this past week: pizza saturday night, a barbeque dinner and birthday cake sunday night, pizza tuesday night, suki hana yesterday afternoon..) are putting me in a stand still where I exercise enough, but only eat like 50-60% clean.. so its not that im not seeing any results, just enough to satisfy me. because I’m not fully dedicated, because I want to be able to eat what I want and again, enjoy being a teenager. it’s tough.

So I think we understand how poor my relationship with food was seven years ago.

And what has happened since then?

It’s been a roller coaster of ups and downs that would honestly take hours for me to get into.

But I want to fast forward into the present, and talk about my day and night last night, just to show you that change is possible.

So yesterday, I woke up to the smell of waffles. And I will honestly admit that I am still healing my relationship with food, after seven years, because of the internal dialogue that goes on in my head when I smell a food like waffles in the morning.

While this internal dialogue used to be so loud and control the decisions I was making when it came to food, it now a more of a whisper that I can tell to shut the hell up.

It goes a little something like this.

I smell the waffles. I think, “Should I go for it? Or should I eat something healthier - like oatmeal? Or eggs and toast?”

In the past, I would have eaten something “cleaner” or “healthier” to stay “on track” with my goals. Or I would have eaten the waffles and mentally ripped myself to shreds for eating something “unhealthy” and “getting off track.”

But yesterday, I realized how much I have made and am making true growth and progress when it comes to my relationship with food.

Because I reached for not one, but two waffles, without any guilt. I put butter and syrup on them. Even paired them with a cup of coffee with two spoonfuls of dairy free vanilla creamer.

I ate the waffles. Enjoyed every bite. And realized how much growth and progress I have made over the years.

Another thing about yesterday and these waffles was that I knew my family was ordering dinner from The Cheesecake Factory that night.

Normally around this time of year, my family and I spend a day in Philadelphia doing Christmas things and going out to lunch or dinner. Since we couldn’t do that this year because of COVID, we decided to bring the tradition into the safety of our home.

So instead of going out to lunch or dinner, we ordered dinner in from the Cheesecake Factory.

Another proud moment of growth for me.

Because in the past, I would’ve ordered something low calorie, no carb, clean, healthy, etc. Especially when there is a low calorie “skinnylicious” section on the menu.

But the current version of myself wanted a burger. So I ordered a classic burger, with the bun, and french fries. And thought nothing of it, except how much I have grown in my relationship with food, and how excited I was to eat it.

In the past... knowing I had appetizers, a big, fat, burger, and a piece of Linda’s chocolate fudge cake coming for me that night, I would have deprived myself of food during the day, or made sure I ate 110% clean, healthy, low carb and low calorie leading up to the big Christmas she-bang of food at night.

But yesterday... I started the day with waffles. Exercised for my mental health, in a way that felt good to me in the moment. A mix of a 20 minute leg workout, 10 minutes of cycling, 15 minutes of stretching and 5 minutes of meditation.

Had a protein shake after exercising. And did not alter my eating during the day because of what I was going to be eating that night.

Honestly, I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know how I went from being a person who would hate herself if she didn’t eat clean and healthy and workout for 7 days straight. To a person who exercises in such a healthy way, for her mental health, and doesn’t diet or feel guilt around food at all anymore.

Truthfully... I know two of the biggest things that got me here were changing the kinds of people I follow on social media. And allowing myself to break up with the scale, and my old beliefs and habits.

Because we’re humans. We’re meant to grow, change and evolve. You are supposed to and don’t have to always stay the same.

And I am proud to say that I am living, breathing proof that you can go from food guilt and restriction, to complete food freedom.

Eat the waffles. Eat the burger. Eat the fudge cake. Enjoy your freaking LIFE. And then, the next morning, you wake up and move on with your life.

This morning, I went back to my regular routine of coffee and oatmeal. Soon, I’ll have another meal or a snack, maybe exercise for 20-30 minutes, and, again... just continue on with my life.

Your life doesn’t have to revolve around weight loss, achieving a flat stomach, having abs, and always eating “clean” and “healthy” all of the time.

You are allowed to live your freaking life, eat your favorite foods, and do whatever brings you peace, happiness and joy. Especially during the holiday season.

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welovekpopscenarios · 7 years

Text

Time (Kyung x Reader)

Admin: Candi Request: “Hey!! Can I request being a backup dancer for Block B and falling for Kyung? - anon” Fandom: Block B Member/reader: Kyung x Reader Genre: Angst (im sorry if you wanted fluff omg) Warnings: None Words: 2.2k Authors note: I love writing for Block B because there’s fuck all on tumblr so don’t be shy guys!

The day you got the place as a backup dancer for Block B was probably one of the happiest days of your life. You trained for years, you loved to dance and when you saw posters around the city announcing that they’re looking for backup dancers for Block B you threw yourself at the opportunity. Once the day arrived you remember the cold sweat dripping down your back and the nerves stirring up in your stomach. What came as a surprise and definitely didn’t help your anxiety was that Block B were actually the ones judging the performances, not their managers.

You remember Zico introducing himself and the group, everyone was extremely nice and encouraging but because you were their fan for years their encouraging words didn’t help, you felt like screaming and you wanted to leave at once. The realization that you have to perform right there and there hit once the music came on and you stood as still as a rock. The group started whispering and your anxiety grew bigger.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You shouted. “I’m just nervous, I didn’t realize you’ll be watching my audition. Let me start again.” The group smiled at you and the music started up again. You took a deep breath and nailed your audition. You still remember how impressed everyone looked and they took you on straight away, they didn’t want you to wait for a phone call, they needed you to start immediately.

And now you’re here, dancing for them for the past year, the time went by so fast you barely even noticed its already been so long. Every day you loved coming into work and getting to hang with everyone and learn new dance routines. The other backup dancers didn’t seem to be as close to Block B as you were, it seemed like the guys took a liking to you and kind of forgot about the others but you didn’t mind, it meant getting to spend more time with them and most important with Kyung.

Ever since you got to know them you were quite interested in Kyung and the stupid innocent crush started developing into something much deeper. You were starting to fall for him and you felt so ashamed, how could this ever work? Firstly, he probably didn’t feel the same way and secondly, you’re both so busy with work it would be damn near impossible. The best thing to do was to hide your feelings away and let them linger through you whenever he brushed his hand off yours, made eye contact with you, smiled at you, it was almost painful but you weren’t ready to risk your friendship with him.

Their comeback was coming up very soon and everyone was working as hard as ever, nailing the dance routines so when the comeback hits you can all perform to promote the album. Work started to drain you, you weren’t getting enough rest, no one was, especially the boys. You felt sorry for yourself but one day the group came into the dance studio looking like actual zombies, between the interviews, appearances and practice they had absolutely no time to sleep, rest or eat.

You were the first one in the studio and when they came in they didn’t even acknowledge you . You walked over to them to make sure they’re okay.

“Guys, do you need anything?” You ask.

“I need a lot of things but sleep is probably at the top of my list.” Ukwon says. The rest of the group hummed in agreement. You started thinking of ways to help them so you ran to the little staff room area and made everyone coffee.

“Would you want to come over to my house today? I’ll make you dinner and you can hide away in my place. No paparazzi to be seen in my estate anyway!” You suggest. The guys look at each other and they grow fond of the idea.

“Sounds good, it’ll be nice to have peace and quiet for one evening.” Jaehyo says.

“Great! You can go to your places and take showers and stuff before coming to mine. It’ll take me a while to make dinner anyway.” You smile at them and go back to warming up before practice.

After practice, you left the studio in a rush in order to make it back home and make an amazing dinner for the group. On your way home, you picked up several ingredients you needed to make a simple chicken noodle soup and japchae, you felt like a mother taking care of their kids.

Kyung: We’ll be there in 15 minutes :)

Y/N: Awesome! Everything is nearly ready.

You set the table and put on a movie so there’d be a relaxed atmosphere once they came in and all they could smell was the dinner. Several minutes later they all showed up and thanked you for the generous invite.

“This is so nice of you Y/N, we’re so thankful!” Kyung grabbed your hand and smiled at you. Your heart jumped to your throat and all you could do is smile back at him without saying anything. He was always so caring and considerate, whenever you were down he’d show up out of nowhere and stay with you until you were okay, even if it was something small and stupid, he’d always be able to brighten your day. The days you spent together alone in the studio practicing by yourself is what really brought you closer to him, the alone sessions eventually turned into messing around, tickling, play fighting and having deep conversations with each other.

“Please, take a seat and enjoy the food, there’s enough for everyone, I doubt you’re going to finish it all.” You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, realizing how much food you made.

“Don’t underestimate us Y/N.” Pyo turned around.

They all enjoyed their food and licked the plates clean, there was no food left to your surprise so as soon as they all finished and passed out in their places you began to quietly clean up.

“Let me help you with that.” Zico said quietly trying to not wake up the other members.

“Oh, you really don’t have to it’s okay!”

“I kind of have to talk to you about something.”

Those words never failed to make you anxious, his face was serious and you just walked straight to the kitchen while he followed you. You placed the dirty dishes in the sink and slowly turned around, the gut wrenching feeling inside you didn’t make anything easier on you.

“When are you going to tell him?” Zico starts and the knot in your stomach tightens.

“Tell who what?” You play dumb and try your best not to seem nervous.

“Y/N… I’m not as clueless as the others. You’re so into Kyung, I gag at it honestly.” He laughs and you hit his shoulder.

“Oh my God, shut up!” You cover your mouth. “I don’t know Zico, it’s a bad time, with your comeback and all… I think you have enough to be stressing about. I don’t need to bring it up to him just yet.”

“Your call!” Zico washed the dishes for you and made his way into the living room while you stayed in the kitchen. You sat at the table where you had a clear view of the TV and sleeping Kyung, you basked at the sight but it wasn’t long before you fell asleep yourself. Once you woke up you noticed a note on the table next to you.

Hey Y/N, thank you so much for the dinner and the movie. We’re sorry we fell asleep and didn’t get to watch it but it was still really nice of you. We didn’t want to wake you up so we just left once everyone woke up. We’ll see you tomorrow Y/N!

-Zico

You smiled at the note and went into your bedroom to throw yourself on the bed and get consumed by your sheets and your dreams. The next few days were going to be hard, there was a performance you had to do tomorrow as a teaser and a promo for the comeback so you needed your rest for it.

The next day you got up and got ready quite quickly, you had no time to waste seeing as it was an important performance and a lot of people were going to be there. You made it to the hall and went backstage where you met everyone. The group was getting their makeup done and the dancers were putting on their outfits.

“Hey Y/N! Like my hair?” Kyung smiled.

“I love you.”

“W-what?”

You realized what you said and you wanted to run away.

“I love IT HA HA, I LOVE IT!” You practically shout in his face and run away to put on your outfit. Kyungs eyes followed you, not exactly sure as to what happened. Zico laughed to himself and the others didn’t even notice you came in.

“And today I am happy to announce that Block B are giving us a taste of what their comeback is going to look like.” The presenter said, that was your call, you all hurried to the stage and did your bit. Throughout the whole performance, Kyung tried his best to catch your eye but you were ignoring him to your best ability. You couldn’t get over how stupid and easily avoidable that was but you were ready to face the consequences. After the show you all went backstage where the group got touched up and the backup dancers weren’t needed anymore so you got to go home.

“Y/N?” Kyung came up behind you.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier haha, I’m just tired and stuff my words got mixed up!” You were a terrible liar and Kyung could see right through you.

“We need to talk.” His face dark and his tone serious. “I talked to Zico.” He continued and he didn’t need to say anything else, you stood still and it felt like cold water was flushed all at once over your frozen body.

“We can talk later, you need to go now!” You grabbed your things and ran towards the nearest exit, your heart pounding and ready to come out your chest. How were you going to explain you have been in love with him for a year now? He seemed so cold and serious, he definitely didn’t feel the same way.

At home, you turned on the TV and watched Block B do the rest of the show, they gave interviews, took photos and were expected to be at a party that their manager threw for them so your body turned into a soft noodle knowing you won’t have to face him today. You decided to bake some cookies and stay in today, after the little encounter you weren’t up for seeing people and you weren’t expecting anyone so it was a good day to treat yourself.

After about an hour or so, someone knocked on your door. You walked over and once your eyes met Kyungs you were lost for words, you couldn’t even ask him what he was doing here.

“I told you we need to talk.” He began. “Listen, Zico told me everything and I’m not stupid either, I sort of knew.” He scratched the back of his head and you sat down quietly. “Y/N it’s just too complicated, you’re such a sweet person and I do love you with all my heart but we work together, we see each other every day and with the comeback and our future projects coming up I don’t see how I could make time to make you as happy as you deserve to be.” He kept his eyes on you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, the lump in your throat grew bigger and you had to be strong and hold back the tears. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear but I have to be honest with you.”

“It’s fine.” You take a deep breath and look up at him with a smile.

“W-what?”

“It’s okay! I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship and I told Zico that I know it’s too much right now since you’re working hard towards the comeback and stuff. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m really sorry Y/N.” “I told you, I’m fine. Now go, you have a party to go to.” You schoo’ed him out of your apartment and quickly shut the door after him. Your hands were shaking and your legs were starting to disobey. You slid down the door and curled into a ball on the cold wooden floor. The pain you were experiencing in your heart didn’t feel real, the whole situation didn’t feel real. Your cries were silent, your breath so uneven it left you gasping for air. Eventually, the cries became louder, the more you thought about what he said the more it hurt, you couldn’t come to terms with what he said, you knew it wasn’t going to be a happy ending but that small part of you was hopeful and it was all for nothing. You were so angry for letting yourself fall for him.

But hey, time heals all wounds, doesn’t it?

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