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cybernaght · 3 years

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Guardian rewatch: episode 12

We start the episode in the Snake Tribe territory, which is supposedly still somewhere within the confines of the Dragon City. It is baffling that it took citizens of this place so long to figure out that there are mysterious beings and demi-humans living among them, it truly is.

While the scene is mostly centred around the conflict between Zhu Hong and her tribe, and the ominous warning of the war brewing, it also does a really lovely joy of showcasing, yet again, the fierce loyalty not only she, but Guo Changcheng have to the SID. This boy remains the most precious muffin of a human.

At the SID, Sang Zan is learning to write under a loving watchful eye Wang Zheng. The once fierce and ruthless warlord is now the softest archivist. On a separate note, I am not sure how good of an archivist he might be considering that he is evidently illiterate.

Anyway, it’s heart-warming to see those two happy together. I sure hope nothing terrible happens to them in the future.

Our actual power couple, on the other hand, have done a full reversal into the relationship they had in the beginning; only it’s somehow even worse now. Shen Wei, who properly messed his cover up during the last adventure, has his guard up as he is being questioned in relation to a case. Zhao Yunlan, who grew to see this man as a friend and partner, is no longer amused by secrets, nor intrigued by them. He is now furious at their existence, upset at what he must perceive as lack of trust on Shen Wei’s part.

Shen Wei serves Zhao Yunlan a cup of tea with a side order of avoidance, hoping that by ignoring the subject of himself it will go away.

When in the previous scenes together they were always across the desk from each other, or next to each other, leaning in closely, body language open, there is now a rift between them. It’s awkward; neither of the men want to be here, but their needs are the opposite to each other, and neither of them are willing to back down.

Shen Wei goes on explaining in great detail his connection to the case and to the victim, despite Zhao Yunlan’s attempt to change the subject with a very unsubtle, “your body surely recovered fast”. The latter then proceeds to stubbornly talk about Shen Wei’s archaic ways, which earns him an incredulous “Are you even listening to me?” from the professor. The incredulity is wonderfully misjudged, considering the circumstances.

“I only want to hear you tell the truth”

We rarely see Zhao Yunlan open and vulnerable. I can’t off the top of my head remember him ever being open and vulnerable with anyone who is not Shen Wei. Zhao Yunlan operates on false bravado, aggressive charm, weaponised smiles. But with this man, he purposefully lowers his guard. I trust you, he seems to say, and I always have. Why can you not trust me?

Shen Wei gulps.

He then continues talking about the case, which is the last straw for Zhao Yunlan, who explodes, smacking his palm hard on the desk.

Shen Wei startles, looking hurt. I just… don’t understand what he was expecting. Once again, this is a man who, from Shen Wei’s perspective, has unmasked him on the first day they met. This is a man who has been poking and prodding him for weeks. And I get that it is hurtful when someone you care about does not respect your boundaries, I do, but truly honestly hoping that the same someone will just accept the relationship terms that have never even been discussed is a little bit unrealistic, especially when Shen Wei is not divulging anything.

Shen Wei is bad at communicating. Which is, I suppose, not news to anyone.

“It seems that Chief Zhao still hasn’t given up on suspecting me.”

“Not suspicion, but lack of understanding.”

Zhao Yunlan is trying very hard. He is trying to close the rift between them: by pulling the chair over next to Shen Wei’s and settling down on it, by reminding Shen Wei how much they have been through together, by telling the man that he is being perplexing. Shen Wei, on the other hand, has raised his barriers all the way back up, smoothly explaining that he is just a normal man who ends up being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He has got a polite smile playing on his lips, his mask fully in place.

Zhao Yunlan does not even pretend to have believed Shen Wei, he gives up on the conversation with a dejected “Fine, forget it.”

He makes his excuses and pulls his phone out to make a call to Wang Zheng to check up on the rest of the team. Just as that happens, the SID gets attacked by the magical sound waves, and Zhao Yunlan sprints into action.

Shen Wei calls after him, and then asks to come with. Considering they have just spent some very awkward time together, more or less fighting about Shen Wei lying an awful lot, Zhao Yunlan would be well within his moral rights to reject help. He doesn’t, however. Even now, the trust he has in Shen Wei - in his good intentions, in his friendship - is unwavering.

At the SID offices, Tan Xiao is using his sound device to get past the two ghosts energy beings, and break through the safety measures protecting the Hallows. In other news, apart from being susceptible from curses or poisons slipped through the letter box, the SID HQ also does not have anything that might stop a human from breaking into it. How those people survived for this long is a mystery.

A point of complete diversion from me: I am currency watching a contemporary drama entitled To Dear Myself. It’s about young professionals in Shanghai who get their lives broken in about ten different ways; Zhu Yilong’s the leading man; there will definitely be a lengthy think-piece on it here. But the reason I’m bringing that up here is that it also has Chen Weidong, the actor who plays Tan Xiao, as a contextually neurodivergent rich boyfriend of one of the protagonists.

It’s kind of surreal seeing him here; there’s only been about two years between the filming of those two shows, but he looks so different. Oh, and, he is very good as well.

Back in the world of Guardian, we see Sang Zan shaking off the sound attack and attempting to stop Tan Xiao. He does not succeed as such, but manages to pull a string which activates the Indiana Jones-style set-up with loaded crossbows. It’s very silly; I kind of love it.

While evading the arrows, Sang Zan flings the Awl up in the air, Zhao Yunlan catches it. How close is the University to SID? He took about five minutes to get here! The chief gets a barrage of premonitions which include Zhu Hong knocked out in the future, as well as in the present, and a little sneak-peak into the Disaster Wedding incident.

He then proceeds to pass out into Shen Wei’s slow motion embrace.

There is nothing wrong with this. This is beautiful.

Shen Wei checks on Yunlan briefly, but Tan Xiao goes on the offensive, which deserves him: a) a shot of dark energy right into his chest, which flings him across the space, b) the meanest of Hei Pao Shi’s death glares. This is the moment Tan Xiao earns an uncharacteristically rough treatment he’s going to get at the end of this episode.

She Wei carefully places unconscious Zhao Yunlan next to the wall, calling out his name. We can only presume that the lab has a second exit, as Tan Xiao manages to get away despite the two men currently being more or less in the doorway.

An indeterminate amount of time passes, and Zhao Yunlan wakes on the sofa, Da Qing in human form miaowing at him, his team and Shen Wei nearby. The team goes into a full debrief mode: Wang Zheng reports that she is generally able to repel sound waves, but was taken by surprise; Da Qing and Lin Jin speculate about the shield being affected by the waves as well, since an apparent Undergrounder managed to get through it.

Zhao Yunlan notes that the sound waves ability seems to be doubled, and used for both attack and suggestion. He notes that the powers can be numerous, while grinning conspiratorially at Shen Wei.

Shen Wei quietly despairs. He probably genuinely thought that this conversation was truly over. He takes a few seconds to come to terms with Zhao Yunlan actually teasing him about him maybe being an Undergrounder, before composing himself and stating that compound abilities don’t actually exist.

Da Qing, who doesn’t necessarily pick up what this conversation really is about, but does note that *something* is up with those two, comes to his own conclusions, asking Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan to stop flirting.

Lin Jing comes up up with this.

“Comrades!”

Thank you, Viki subbers, for notifying the audience that the word “Comrade” is also a slang for “gay”.

Lin Jing springs to his feet, saying that he needs a sample test of a human consciousness - presumably to create that clever brain chip of him which would make one immune to the wound wave powers. Zhao Yunlan very theatrically feigns a big scary headache to see whether Shen Wei would volunteer to take the test in his stead to spare him the pain. It’s an underhand move, but it works nonetheless.

We briefly return to the Snake Tribe, or, more specifically to Zhu Hong’s Fourth Uncle asking whether she is still mad at him, while she is forcibly restrained and bound to a pillar. What is it with this show and binding people to pillars? In reality, the one bound to a pillar is actually Guo Changcheng, which the Fourth Uncle doesn’t pick up on even through Xiao Guo is not actually wearing the clothes Zhu Hong arrived in. Zhu Hong springs the trap, plies her uncle with the same wine, and then goes to regroup with the others, leaving Xiao Guo behind for the time being, because, I guess, it makes more sense for Zhu Hong to be alone when she gets hypnotised later in the episode.

Honestly, it’s easier to not think about too much about this scene, so let’s return to the main characters.

Lin Jing is just finishing the experiment on Shen Wei, who is lying on the lab bed in his undershirt, seemingly asleep. I would assume that Shen Wei has gone into some kind of a meditative trance to try and affect the way his own brain works and emulate the human activity. He does not stir when Zhao Yunlan walks over, and call him.

“Shen Wei? Professor Shen?”

Having received no response, Zhao Yunlan leans in to…

... Count this man’s eye lashes? Admire the effects of his skincare routine?

Oh, no, sorry. Here’s the excuse.

Thank you, Guardian, for this moment.

As Shen Wei wakes up and rises, he lets Zhao Yunlan know in no uncertain terms that he did see through his ruse.

“You don’t have a headache anymore?”

This snaps Yunlan out of gazing at Shen Wei with barely contained lust to pretend that his head indeed still hurts. Considering that Shen Wei does not look concerned, and knowing that Zhao Yunlan’s health and well-being is his number one priority in life, we can conclude that he did know that a headache was just an excuse to get Shen Wei out of his shirt check Shen Wei’s brain activity. Our professor collects his things and leaves with a brief goodbye.

Lin Jing is staring at the readings, checking that the computer has worked properly. Noticing that something is wrong, Zhao Yunlan asks, “Did you see live pornography in his head or something?” Not that I blame his for his mind being the gutter, but also, wow Zhao Yunlan’s mind is in the gutter.

Lin Jing dismisses the idea of mind reading as a whole, and shares his findings that Shen Wei’s consciousness was unwavering, like a dead man’s. Unfortunately for Shen Wei, whatever it was that he did to appear human has not worked well at all.

Zhao Yunlan smirks.

Outside of the SID building, Shen Wei is still frozen in place, contemplating his future actions as he is thumping the Pendant of Pining.

“Should I tell him after all?”

Yes, Shen Wei, you should.

“If I tell him, will that put him in danger?”

I am afraid the the good ship Zhao Yunlan Being In Danger sailed the day Zhao Yunlan became Lord Guardian and Chief of the SID.

(Am I again getting unreasonably frustrated with a fictional character of a show that aired several years ago? You bet I am.)

What follows in the episode is a brief interlude of Zhu Jiu being horrible to Tan Xiao, and making inappropriate comments about him and Zheng Yi. We also learn some of Tan Xiao’s backstory, which expands on his character and explains that the reasons he felt so protective of the little girl was because she reminded him of a sister he once had.

Back to SID offices.

Zhao Yunlan is doodling Shen Wei and the Envoy as he tries to reconcile the two in his mind.

It does sound like he still has doubts that the two are the same person, despite the overwhelming pile of evidence that made him draw to this conclusion in the first place. If anything, it is quite surprising that it took him this long to figure out that the enigmatic mysterious handsome professor and the enigmatic mysterious handsome Envoy are the same person. It is also curious that he seems to think the Envoy is much taller.

Da Qing watches his friend’s mental agony in absolute bewilderment.

Very shortly, they will get a ping for the sound wave energy from somewhere close to Zhu Hong’s home and rush to the scene to find that Zhu Hong has, indeed, been put under mind control, as she attacks Chu Shuzhi.

Here’s another piece of fight choreography for me to tear into.

Okay, good things first. I really like that the actors are doing their own fighting. Jiang Mingyang is generally looking good in combat, and his reactions continue to be on point. Gao Yuer is very flexible, and her kicks are great.

The fight itself however, is another example of the time/money constraints.

The opening punch is… fine. They do lock arms for a split second, which indicates that Zhu Hong properly swung that in rather than stopping the energy, but they are also out of distance, so safety-wise that’s okay-ish, and at full speed it looks alright . But the way Lao Chu is sticking his thumb out and then wraps that around Zhu Hong’s wrist just gave a full body shudder. This is how one gets they thumb dislocated (which I have never done myself, but I hear is very painful) and/or gives their partner a nasty bruise. For anyone out there who needs to hear this, if you ever perform a fight, please tuck your thumbs in line with your fingers and avoid hurting yourself and others. Doing otherwise adds nothing apart from a small but completely avoidable risk of injury.

Then there is this kick-punch-kick combination.

The three moves in isolation are good, but they don’t flow together, at all. I think, and this is pure speculation, that the sweeping punch in the middle was actually meant to follow the previous two moves, then the kick would come next, leading into Chu Shuzhi restraining Zhu Hong. That first kick (which is the same as the third kick, shot from a different angle) just does not belong there as a follow-up to the two punches. I can speculate that it was cut there because it looked cool - which it does - but it also sacrifices any hope this fight had for coherent storytelling.

Then there is a capture and a swivel, very similar to the finishing move used in Zhu Jiu/Sang Zan fight in episode 11. Zhu Hong gets pressed against the tree, and the team shows up to sedate her and bring her back to the headquarters.

Tan Xiao and Zheng Yi watch this scene unfold at a distance, as Zhao Yunlan appears behind them. The SID chief calmly lets Tan Xiao know that he’s been abandoned by Zhu Jiu, and the other man offers no resistance to being captured.

The narrative brings us to the boxing ring, introducing us to it as Zhu Jiu’s energy farm, and then briefly cuts to SID, where Chu Shuzhi realises that they have not retrieved Guo Changcheng. The puppet master springs into action, leaving Lin Jing to wonder since when his friend is so protective of the rookie. If he paid attention, he would have noticed that Chu Shuzhi was protective of the rookie since day one.

We then move to the interrogation of Tan Xiao, which is happening in the hospital set, with Zheng Yi tucked into the hospital bed, even through it was never established that she would need medical attention, and, considering that she would have no issues walking out of the hospital very shortly, she clearly does not. Here, we see some more flashbacks, detailing Tan Xiao and the girl’s backstory, the abuse she suffered, and the bond the two forged. The young man is admitting to all the crimes he had not committed to protect her, and Zhao Yunlan is honestly moved. He sounds almost regretful when he lets Tan Xiao know that he will still be persecuted for his crimes.

Right on cue, Hei Pao Shi portals in.

Zhao Yunlan greets him with a customary “long time no see”, but the most acknowledgement he receives from Shen Wei is a side-eye which does not even focus on his face.

In fact, the Envoy is doing as much as he can to avoid even turning to Zhao Yunlan. He simply announces his purpose to the room in general and teleports Tan Xiao away. It’s easy to see what he is doing. In Shen Wei’s mind, the less communication he has with Zhao Yunlan as Hei Pao Shi, the better are his chances to separate his two personalities in the eyes of the other man. That said, showing an abrupt and uncharacteristic change of behaviour is the opposite of suspicious.

Even Da Qing notices the change Hei Pao Shi.

“Lao Zhao, what did you do to upset him? You used to do small talk, not anymore?”

Zhao Yunlan smirks, replying that he knows the reason why. He then notices the little girl crying, and goes to comfort her the only way he knows how, with a lollipop. When that does not work, he gestures for Da Qing to leave with him, and returns with a familiar black cat and an adorable “ta-dah”. It’s so sweet it makes my teeth hurt.

As this is going on, Hei Pao Shi is being his glorious over the top avenging self. For one, he is actually floating above Tan Xiao, which I don’t think he ever seen him do before. He then proceeds to throttle the young man, lifting him in the air and throwing him back on the ground.

He does so in order to shake the sound wave equipment out of him, sure, but it is easy to assume that Tan Xiao also brought the Envoy’s wrath onto himself by his misguided attempt to hurt Zhao Yunlan earlier that day. It’s deliciously petty; we know that the best way to earn Shen Wei’s ire is by threatening his companion. And, to be fair, Shen Wei had a bad day: this is as good a way as any to get some of that ancient anger out of his system.

As Hei Pao Shi realises that the man he arrested is a simple human armed with some clever technology, and the real homicidal Undergrounder is the girl he is protecting, so does Zhao Yunlan. Even miles away, even when they are having arguments, their analytical brains still work in sync. And, as plot twists go, this one is neat, albeit not entirely unpredictable.

Unfortunately, realising that the girl is dangerous, brings along a realisation that Zhao Yunlan left his friend in her care. He rushes to the hospital to check on Da Qing, finding the ward empty. If this was Zhu Jiu’s plan all along, it’s a good one: having access to a brainwashed SID member would also spell easy access to the headquarters and the Hallows - which is exactly where Zheng Yi leads Da Qing, taking the Hallows and leaving the Yashou to go into a berserk mode as he imagines or remembers Zhao Yunlan/Kunlun saying “I will abandon you”

Next up, episode 13: The Disaster Wedding.

——

Notes.

Every time Shen Wei lies my brain supplies me with Why You Always Lying song. Every. Single. Time. Which means I sing it a lot around the flat, to my partner’s great chagrin.

Whoooo boy and I thought the Episode 10 recap was the crackiest one I’ve done.

#guardian #recap #rewatch #zhao yunlan #shen wei #now with gifs #sometimes my brain is like this #I'm not sorry

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bitch-its-me-alv · 4 years

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He is mine, bitches

Male Marinette! Male Damian!

(Next You can’t touch what’s mine, bitch)

Damian did not have a type, he was a ex assassin, trained to eliminate useless impulses such as attraction, or romanticism of his person.

He didn't have a type, he didn't have ... he didn't ... he…

Oh my god, did that guy just threw a motorcycle? Damian had to get his number, his name, something!

Maybe not like robin, that would be clearly irresponsible and unprofessional.

Judging by his outfit, he was at gotham college, the same one his civilian alter ego was in. That was convenient, he could approach like Damian wayne.

Was Damian better than Robin? Who would attract him the most? Would he even like Damian or Robin to put his tongue down his throat?

Wait, he was talking to him!

“I need you to take me to the hospital, I just threw my motorcycle at those thugs, could you?“ Omg, he was even more gorgeous up close, big, slanted eyes of blue, like the cosmos or something magical. Before Robin could answer him Red Hood intervened.

“Don't worry man, our Robin here will be happy to take you after your statement.” Red hood slapped his back.

The boy was even taller than Jason, Damian wasn't sure if he would survive the trip to the hospital on his motorcycle.

Robin momentarily emerged from his stupor, after red hood left, maybe hood thought it was bothering him, Robin was not comfortable with civilians after the fight, he was more fighting, hitting and then leaving the disaster for the police.

“If you're hurt, we could go first to the hospital” Robin said.

“Oh no actually, my friend Chloe was rushed to the hospital after the gas of fear paralyzed her. I am worried that when she recovers she would sue the entire floor.”The bluenette smiled

Robin just nodded, praying that none of his brothers would notice the blush under the mask, or worse, Batman might noticed.

On the way to the hospital, Robin felt the physical difference between him and Marin. It almost felt like he was being hugged by Marin.

They arrived in record time, Robin had a slight disappointment in his chest, but he crushed her, reminding himself that he would meet him later as Damian.

Marin got off the bike in front of the hospital. “Thanks for the trip robin, maybe you should go in too, that blow seems serious.” Marin touched the wound that went through his mask.

Robin didn’t blush, no one can prove it.” Things like these happen all the time, don't worry.”

“Well, I would say I hope to see you soon, but I don't think that's very good. So try not to hurt your gorgeous face.”

Leaving Robin flushed, he turned around to enter the hospital. Chloe would go crazy when he told her he flirted with a vigilante.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

If someone asked Marin why he had moved to Gotham city, he would tell the easy lie. After so long as a traveler with his nonna he had decided that he would finish his education in a normal and established way. And since his uncle Jagged and his aunt Penny owned a condo in the city, it was nothing suspicious.

Yeah, it is not as if the rest of his family is not completely legal and they are also conveniently around Gotham.

And if he had to hide some welcome gifts that his godparents and godmothers gave him like, a personalized flamethrower, a carnivorous plant as a pet, or exploding mallets. No one else would know, because he was not very interested in taking people home anyway.

After many close calls like Adrianna Agreste, or Lian Rossi, he did not want to rush into relationships.

But Damian was so cute, maybe he could do an exception for him. I mean, when he practically hit his chest with that stoic expression it was nice, but when Marin made him blush it was even better.

Marin was very good at flirting but not very good at getting compliments. So after seven weeks hanging out as friends, Damian discovered that he could hit him back with compliments.

Damian was in the ninth cloud, Marin was more than he had anticipated, and he couldn't love it more. He was so perfect, and that's why he had tried twice as hard to hide it from his family, he didn't want them to scare Marin away. But his plan was threatened by his very annoying and best friend, Jon.

“I seriously can’t believe it Damian, you got yourself a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me, i’m so upset.”

“Don't be dramatic kent, he is not my boyfriend ... yet. And if I did not tell you it was so that there were no rumors that would reach my family.”

“Damian, it doesn't matter, you got yourself a boyfriend and besides he is hellaMari12, I can never forgive you, meet that bonbon and save it for yourself, very bad Damian.”

“What nonsense are you babbling kent? hellaMari12? Bonbon? Do you want my katana on your face?”

Jon showed him his cell phone, in a very famous instagram account, where in all the photos marin appeared, in a very specific one, with canvas pants, and a sweatshirt that showed his abs.

Damian couldn't control the blood that ran up his face, omg that photo was so hot. But a big part of himself was not distracted, this photo was public and had three million likes. His possessiveness made him frown, he was still not her boyfriend, he did not have to be angry, and even if he were, he had no right to claim him.

Damn, why did Marin have to be so attractive and kind? Now he not only had competition in Gotham, but also throughout the internet, excluding all the places he had been and assuming he had no suitor abroad.

Damian would have to hurry, because if he got distracted he could lose, and Damian Al-Ghul Wayne never lost.

➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞ ➞

Marin was nearing the end of his patience. If damian was still so nice to him and didn't kiss him, Marin could hit something or kiss him until his soul was taken out.

With his attractive face in a constant frown, his jade eyes always fulminant, his olive skin so shiny and smooth. His always so neat black hair and his expensive cologne… Damn Damian why don't you just kiss Marin already?

That night Damian and Marin had arranged to do a marathon on how to train your dragon, because the green-eyed man had never seen such a work of art.

If Damian hadn't kissed him before the end of the first movie, Marin would. He had already arranged everything, hid the suspicious gifts, threw the dirty clothes into a closet that he had never opened before, shook the sofa. He put flavoring ... everything so that the atmosphere was perfect.

While they sat on the couch eating sour treats, with damian criticizing the characters' unrealistic choices. Damian let the sugar spread across his lips, unaware of himself as he concentrated on the movie.

Hiccup was about to feed the dragon when Marin couldn't resist any longer.

“Hey Damian, I'm about to kiss you. You can walk away if you don't want it”

Damian had recorded the question, had heard and understood it. But I couldn't believe it, so I just nodded hoping it wasn't a hallucination.

It wasn't, the hallucinations weren't that perfect.

They were completely lost in their kisses, their environment disappeared as more and more time passed kissing, tousling the hair of the other, writhing to be closer together although that was impossible.

Someone's phone started ringing and suddenly the world was more than just the two of them. Damian was on Marin's lap, his arms under his shirt, and his legs wrapped in a possessive grip on his hips. Marin had one hand buried in Damian's midnight hair, and another dangerously low on his back.

They admired each other for five long seconds, until their phone rang in unison. They did not separate, they had been waiting for this for a shameful time, they could not lose it now that they had started it.

From Damian's phone were notifications from his brothers, asking about his absence hours before the patrol. He reply quickly informing them not to expect him and not to try to track him down. With a couple of threats in the family chat to let them know it was him, he turn off the phone and throw him away from where he was sitting.

On Marin's phone there were a couple of messages from chloe letting him know that if Damian made his boyfriend he would have to pass the blonde test, or she wouldn't approve it. While in the chat of their rouge godparents and godmothers, they would message each other about an assault they would do together soon.

Marin answered chloe briefly, and ignored his uncles, there were things that he had to turn a blind eye to.

“So ... do you want to stay here at night?”Marin gently rubbed the spot where his left hand was, giving Damian nice chills.

“Had you anticipated this Dupain-cheng? Did you feel lucky?” Damian didn't take his eyes off his lips, making Marin blush slightly.

“I was confident, don't think I hadn't noticed how suddenly all our dates involved sweating and taking off my shirt.”

Damian shut him up with a kiss, not because he was his boyfriend he was going to allow herself to lose to him.

The night passed with many kisses, hickies on the neck and under the clavicles. His words were lost somewhere between four and five in the morning. Falling exhausted on the sofa one on the other, with the warm sensation in their bodies of knowing that their love was reciprocated.

When the sun raised Damian was ecstatic, he could already hit all those with romantic intentions towards Marin. He could kiss him without being rejected, but… He didn't really know much about romantic relationships, but He’d find out along the way.

Marin was also full of excited and happy energy, fluttering around his kitchen and taking photos of everything as souvenirs for his future anniversaries.

After many signs on the sofa with Damian, and of him just being art lying on the sofa. Damian decided that everyone on the internet should know that Marin was not single.

With a simple photo published in Marin's account, with both disheveled and illuminated by the rising sun. The eyes of both seemed clearer than they were.

In the description Damian did not try very hard, with a simple he is mine, bitches settled, and let his followers burn while Marin danced in the kitchen and Damian tried not to get weaker for that boy.

#maribat #male marinette #daminette #gay cause it's june #who i'm kidding it's gay cause i wanted

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parkers-gal · 3 years

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foxgloves

boomerang pt. ii

wc: 2.5k

warnings: violence & car incidents (brief)/ hospital trips

The foxglove of the plantains, or the digitalis, blew in the wind like a beaut on a horse. Its colors, encapsulating, vivid, vibrant, radiant, rich. Sweet smells from the pollen and nectar wafting through the air, luring in those who dared to have such a sacred piece of life. Petals as delicate and fragile and intricate as stemware, filled with crimson winery, sweet and bitter like the flower's nectar. The middle, the center, the inside. Intimate and exclusive, blossoming only to those willing to experience the pain that came with such a devilish plant, full to the brim with nightmares disguised as daydreams. But even with all the beauty; colors and petals and scents and tastes as wonderful as they were, it was still deadly. Intoxicating, fatal, poisonous. And the disease spread faster than Nutella on toast.

How poisonous she was, Tom did not discover until her pollen was left behind, leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mouth as pressure from the heat settled and sizzled to nothing, realization kicking in that she was gone and her absence did nothing but destroy. And destruction was merciless, especially for the person that had prompted it all. Tom built a machine he didn’t know how to stop; it's self destruction in the worst way.

Four weeks had passed since she had walked out. Four weeks since Tom had fallen asleep in the doorway in the middle of the hallway, hoping to wake up from the nightmare disguised as a daydream. But it wasn't a daydream, and it wasn't a nightmare. Because this is real life, and he supposed losing her was worse than pining after her. At least then, he had her in his life. And now.. he isn't even sure on where he stands. He's stopped standing actually. Instead, he'd been pushed off the edge, the cliff with a drop so deep only Earth knew the end's location. He supposed again, that he's still falling. Because after the drop, there's a whole layer of rock bottom, and directly under that, is a new layer of crap and waste and vile memories, building and forming and making the Tom today. Angry, melancholic, heartbroken, remorseful and regretful. His happiness is just about as bright as the broken nightlight in the corner of the bedroom.

The echo of knuckles against wood rings through the house, alerting Tom that somebody is at the door. And though he knows it's unrealistic, he wishes and prays and hopes to god that it's her, coming back like the boomerang she is. It isn't.

"Tom? Mate? It's me and Harry," Harrison calls out, cautiously stepping through the doorway and shutting the door quietly behind Harry, the lock clicking as they placed the drinks down. They stopped at Nando's on the way to Tom's, knowing he probably resorted to coffee and mashed potatoes as his main filler.

"Bro, where are you?" Harry sounded, placing his cap on the table by the couch, the two of them venturing further into the house until reaching the slump body on the ground in the den. Tom's hair is disheveled, his eyelids drooping, accompanied with dark, heavy bags.

"Get up," Harrison nudges Tom with his foot, and Tom groans in annoyance before picking himself up and standing in front of the two boys.

"The fuck do you two want?" he rubs at his eyes, dragging his feet to the kitchen for a glass of coffee – it's a lot easier to whip up than tea. At least, in his opinion it is, because if his tea isn't perfect then he doesn't want to go through the hassle of preparing it just to be disappointed and let down at the first sip.

"We're checking in on you," Harrison states it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He's leaning against the counter, elbow deep on it, Harry beside him.

"Yeah."

Tom hums at the two of them before spinning around and swiping through the swing door and into the living room.

"Have you.. talked to-"

"Don't fucking say it," Tom's voice is sharp as he turns around abruptly, cutting his brother off. "Don't you dare fuckin' say it."

Harry puts his hands up in defense, in innocence, eyes darting to the floor as Tom turns around again.

"We're worried about you, man," Harrison speaks after a few moments.

"Yeah? Well don't be," Tom spits out sarcastically, his voice disgusted and laced with bitterness. An ugly flavor.

"You haven't picked up mum's calls in weeks," Harry makes a point of mentioning. "I get it... if you don't want to talk to us. But at least talk to mum – she's worried sick. Dad's a bit pissed too."

"I don't owe them anything," Tom grumbles, plopping into the center of an armchair, sipping the drink from the table. Harry and Harrison exchange knowing glances before hesitantly stepping forward.

"Tom," Harrison places a hand on his knee as he sits across from him. "Will you listen to us?"

Harry takes a seat next to Harrison, joining in. "Don't be such a twat about this, Tom. We only care about you. Everyone here knows this is entirely your fault- you dug yourself into this ditch. The least you could do is be grateful we're trying."

"The fuck did you say?" Tom's voice raises, eyebrows changing position as he stops sipping the cool beverage.

Harrison removes his hand from Tom's knee and turns to look at the younger Holland, concern flooding his irises, taking over the blue orbs.

"I'm your brother, Tom," Harry goes on, voice unchanged. "I love you. And I'm worried about you. We all are. And we love you enough to be brutally fuckin' honest. You let her walk out. Ya' acting like you had to fight to keep in her in your life – but that's a fuckin' lie. You didn't do a damn thing but sit and watch," he points a finger, irritation from his voice setting tension between the brothers.

Tom's pupils dilate, his veins flooding with vengeance and vexation. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Tom," Harrison cuts in, voice calm and soft and soothing. "Calm down, let's talk about this-"

"No!" Tom swipes his hand off of his shoulder. "Get the fuck out of my house!" Tom stands up, finger pointed in Harry's face as he takes a few steps back.

Harry merely shakes his head, curls jostling. "No."

"No?" Tom repeats.

"No."

Harrison's so caught up in his worries that he doesn't catch Tom before he lunges at his brother, fists swinging and knuckles cracking against Harry's cheekbone, sending the boy flying to the ground, blood and all. All the while, Tom is yelling and screaming, fighting against Harrison's restraints.

"Get the fuck out!" He yells, trying to get rid of Harrison's arms on his torso. "Let me fucking go!"

"No!" Harrison yells, glancing at Harry with wide eyes. "Go. Get up, get out!" he manages, and Harry looks up in shock before scrambling to his feet and slamming the door on his way out.

Tom huffs before his body relaxes, and Harrison feels comfortable enough to release him from his grip. Tom runs his fingers through his locks, the strands soft but greasy on his fingertips, and he exhales like a bull. Harrison envisions smoke coming out from his nose, and he thinks Tom almost looks like an underground boxer, but he doesn't mention anything.

"What the fuck was that, Tom?" Harrison asks after a few moments.

Tom glances to him, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. "What was what?" he spits out.

"That!" Harrison gestures to the ground and then to the door. "You just punched your fucking brother!" he exclaims. "Now no discredit to him, but you've been training with professionals, T. You could have fucking killed him!"

"Yeah well I didn't!" Tom matches his voice level to Harrison's, standing up, chest out almost like a challenge.

"Don't you dare try anything on me," Harrison points. "I trained too. I can fucking take you if I really tried."

"Seems like you don't want to try."

"That's not what I'm here to do; I'm not here to fucking fight you, T," Harrison sighs, hands finding his hair too. Tom scoffs before relaxing his posture a little. "I saw her a few days ago," Harrison speaks quietly.

At this, Tom's head is shooting up in Harrison's direction, eyes wide and curious as he aches to pry into Harrison's brain at all the knowledge he has on her. Tom looks to Harrison expectantly, and he sighs again before going on.

"I was in the supermarket, but we still talked a little. She seems... fine. Great, even. I think she's really," Harrison holds his breath, "happy. Really happy."

Tom sits on the arm chair again, glancing to his fingers, head down. "I could never make her that happy," he whispers, tears falling.

"You did," Harrison spoke. "You just... I don't know, Tom. I really don't know what to tell you. I don't know everything that happened between the two of you, but when I talked to her she seemed to believe you had just completely given up on her."

"But I didn't," Tom pleaded, eyes glossy as he looked up to Harrison. "I swear, I never would. I loved- I love her so much, I could never just- just give up like that."

"Then why did you?" Harrison whispers back.

Tom looks to his lap again, silent. Harrison plays with the arm of the couch before patting it.

"Tom I'm not saying things could ever happen again between you two, and I'm not saying that it isn't a possibility," he was at the door, hand on the knob as he turned around to look Tom in the eyes. "But you gave up on her and now you're giving up on us." His voice dropped to another whisper, voice cracking as he opened the wooden door and closed it shut, the lock clicking.

"God," Tom whispers to himself, wiping his face with both palms as fresh tears emerge to the surface and break through the barriers, falling down his cheeks and all the way to his knees again. He looks to a picture frame, one of the only ones she'd left behind, and for a moment, he was back in the past, reliving the joy that came with being a boyfriend and a best friend and a big brother. He closed his eyes, imagining the life that was so distant and obviously changed, and new tears awoke.

***

The next morning, Tom showered and put on a fresh pair of sweats, a black tee too. Harry and Harrison had taken Tessa away a few weeks back, deciding Tom couldn't take care of her with the state he is in, and the house felt all the lonelier. Now, he had just left the house, feet tapping on the concrete pavement, to the direction of the park.

Greens and trees and playgrounds in sight, Tom breathed in the fresh air, eyes closing as he relished in the feeling of his lungs finally getting new oxygen.

"Tommy?" he'd heard, and his eyes shot open. Spinning in the direction of the voice, he couldn't find the source. He glanced again, spinning in circles before crossing the street. Then, he'd heard it again, and he froze in place. He spun around, looking in all directions; to the trees, the houses, the plants, the futbol field, and the flower garden. He was rotating in circles now, slow but rapid movements. Inconsistent as he ran his fingers through his hair pulling at the strands, and then the voice called for him again. Her voice.

Spinning one last time, he'd spotted her, and relief flooded through him as he breathed out her name. But too soon, because the cold metal of a bonnet was lodging into his legs and his side, and the world went dark as he hit the ground with a thud, car doors closing as he laid in the middle of the street.

Hours later, he'd awoken in a hospital room, Harrison and his mother in the chairs beside the bed, Harry standing in the doorway with an ice-pack on his left cheek.

His chest burned, legs ached, and his head pounded. A man in a white coat had just entered the room, and Tom sat up, his mind foggy as he was drifting in and out of the conversation.

"Tom, is it?" the doctor said, a clipboard in his head. Tom nodded. "The driver that hit you said you were standing in the middle of the road, looking out to... something?"

Tom nodded, clutching the right side of his head, jaw sore too. "I saw a girl."

Harry and Harrison seemed to have stopped breathing.

"We talked to the driver, there was no one there. We checked you out."

"And?" Nikki breathed out, clutching a handkerchief to her chest.

"He's been hallucinating," the doctor informed them.

"Hal- hal- halluc-?"

"What's causing it?" Harry cut her off, avoiding Tom's gaze.

"Could be a number of things," The doctor glanced at his clipboard. "Sleep deprivation, depression, drugs. The good news is that he's going to be alright."

"Thank you," Nikki replied, and the doctor nodded.

"I'll be back in later to discuss further details. I'll just give you four some time," he smiled a tight-lipped one before leaving the room.

Tom's head hit the pillow as he groaned, irritation at the situation setting in.

"Tom what the fuck happened?" Harrison exclaimed, hands going up, and Nikki gave him a look. "You're lucky to be alive, Tom. What the fuck were you thinking?" Harrison went on

"I don't know- I wasn't," Tom breathed out, eyes rolling.

"Damn right you weren't."

Tom sat up. "I don't need you mothering me like a brother you aren't!" he yelled, and Harrison went quiet as Nikki gasped. "If you're going to lecture me than you can just fuckin' leave."

Harrison looked around the room in spite, jaw clenched. After a few seconds, he made for the door, slamming it, and Harry was following him out, muttering words under his breath that even Tom could hear.

"Giving up on more people," he'd whispered.

Tom rolled his eyes, looking at his mother who was sitting in her chair, eyes on her phone as she texted her husband. Tom glanced around the room, spotting a vase of foxgloves, their magenta, primrose shades calling out to him like the girl in the street.

Devilish and merciless they were. Tom wanted nothing more than to inhale their poisoned beauty, their toxic sweets. Tears fell from his eyes like the petals in autumn, and he started praying to the god that still doesn't exist.

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medicifm · 3 years

Text

* not me actually writing an intro the night before like i always mean to 😳 hennyway hey biddies , i'm chloe , im in the snowy part of pst , & i use she / her pns . i’ve been . . . . . . . scouring the tags for an rp like this so im so excited to bring this newish muse of mine here ! im here to do the honours of introducing my himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside . . . oscar 🤡

( twenty three , cis man , he / him ) ✉ ― hey babes , have you met OSCAR MEDICI ? they’re working here as THE HEAD CHEF AT LORENZO’S , a few villas down from where you’re staying . you might hear them singing ALRIGHTY APHRODITE BY PEACH PIT playing from their villa , it’s their favourite song . yes , they hear that they look like JACK GILINSKY a lot , actually - it’s really uncanny . their friends back home in SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA say that if they were on a tv show , their trope would be THE WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING , how funny is that ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst

𝐢 .

pinterest | wanted plots |

𝐢𝐢 .

name : oscar gabriel medici

age : twenty three

dob / sign : december 4th , 1997 / sagittarius sun , leo moon , libra rising

pob : sydney , australia

gender / pronouns : cis man & he / him / his

career : head chef at lorenzo’s , full - time heathen , professional disappointment for mothers everywhere .

drinking / drugs / smoking : yes / more often than he’d admit / never .

religion : jewish background , currently non - practicing .

physical : jack gilinsky fc , dark brown / black longish curls ( reference ) , dark brown eyes , canon jack g’s tattoos , no piercings , 6′2″ , 175 lbs , lean but strong . tattoos a la canon!jack , pearly white smile that he may . . . or may not . . . use crest 3D white strips weekly to maintain . lots of burns & scars from kitchen mishaps on his hands & arms .

traits : hard - working , flighty , intelligent , hedonistic , charismatic , intense , volatile ,

other : speaks weird french ( aussie accent tings ) , tans easily but wears sunscreen nonetheless , works hard parties harder , can’t read a lick of french but spends a lot of his free time with a coffee & a new paperback , has a bit of an internal vendetta against rich people ( for no real reason , he just doesn’t like most of them ) , has ins with a bunch the local farmers & visits them weekly , pretends he isn’t lowkey addicted to nicotine administered via a puff bar , liquor of preference is tequila or red wine , drives a lil vespa around town for the gag of it ( loves seeing it haphazardly parked amongst a bunch of luxury cars ) ,

character inspo : jess mariano ( gilmore girls ) , gordon ramsey 🤡 , patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .

𝐢𝐢𝐢 .

oscar’s arrival was as unwanted to his parents as could be : a father whose tendencies leaned towards alcoholism & abusing whoever was in arms reach , a mother whose life was more or less spent at the nursing home she worked as a nurse at , evading home . he became a self - inflicted loner , preferring to do literally the exact opposite of what was expected or wanted from him . he had a few friends he ran with , but watching them all go off & study or prepare for university solidified in oscar’s mind that the non - traditional route was for him . growing up by the water , oscar always felt more drawn to skip school & head to the beach than he did obeying his parents wishes .

one of his solaces was his grandfather , gabriel , who owned an italian restaurant in a beach town north of sydney . whenever the weather was bad & oscar felt like ditching class , he’d head over to his nono’s restaurant where his ass would be put to work as soon as he set eyes on the restaurant . it was tough work , but challenging in a way that fanned the flames in oscar’s heart , rather than dimming them . by the time he was a teenager he was working in the restaurant everyday after school , an agreement between him & his grandfather framed on the back wall that stated that as long as oscar kept from flunking out , he was allowed to spend as little or as much time in the kitchen as he pleased .

his absolute defiance of anything traditional & following the rules made him unpopular with adults , but lowkey cool with the girls . by the time he was sixteen , he was losing his focus on the restaurant & his grades & spending more & more time chasing after girls . his nono tried to get oscar to come back & focus , but as always , anything he’s asked to do quickly becomes the thing he’s running from the most .

tw : death , cancer . around his eighteenth birthday , his grandfather suddenly fell ill with a rare form of cancer that took his life six weeks after diagnosis , which rocked oscar’s world . he felt overwhelming guilt that he hadn’t spent more time with his grandfather , which manifested itself as oscar dropping out of school a year shy of graduation to commit himself fully to perfecting his grandfather’s techniques , learning all of his recipes ( read : pouring over dozens of handwritten cookbooks ) in some failed attempt to get back some time with him . oscar hadn’t been close with his parents in years , more or less seeing them as wardens of a prison he wanted nothing to do with . his grandfather’s will left him the deed to the restaurant , with an ask that oscar would promise to act on whatever he felt called towards , rather than doing what others expected of him . to be candid , this whole situation crushed him .

eventually , he decided he’d had enough of the stifling community he’d grown up in . he sold the restaurant to one of the regulars , a wealthy man who he’d come to acknowledge as somewhat of an uncle ; a safe pair of hands who would treat his grandfather’s legacy with as much passion & respect as oscar himself would . so he packed a bag , texted his mom that he was going traveling , & got on a flight that evening . he traveled all around - first through central america , then through europe , throughout asia & africa , & spent a few months driving a van across the continental united states & canada for fun .

eventually , he started getting low - ish on money , & decided to settle in one of his favourite places he’d visited : southern france . he arrived in early 2018 , taking on whatever menial tasks he could while learning french until he got a position as a line cook in an italian restaurant . a few years later , he’s made his way up to filling the head chef position , an honour he takes with pride . he’s implemented many of his own recipes while using flavours he’s learned from his travels , with ingredients straight from local farmers . he’s earned the restaurant a two michelin star rating , & is constantly striving for more to get that last star ( both for his own ego as well as a secret debt to his grandfather ) .

𝐢𝐯 .

ok but that vid where gordon puts two pieces of bread on someone’s head & calls them an idiot sandwich ? that’s oscar . intense as fuck in the kitchen , & best nobody catch an attitude about it bc he will not hesitate to hand them their ass on a silver platter .

another gordon reference : you know how he’s the spawn of satan with adults , but the sweetest , most helpul guy with children ? that’s oscar with his staff vs people he wants something from . whether its to sleep with them ( usually his first instinct to be fair ) , their money or clout , or to get into some wild adventure some random resort staff wouldn’t dream of getting into , he can turn on the charm whenever needed .

can go from absolutely demoralizing someone in the kitchen to stepping out into the lounge to schmooze with his friends or cougars who leave phat tips in 0.2 seconds . the speed at which his mood can completely 180 is one of the seven world wonders ( last i checked ) .

his love language is absolutely acts of service . catch him actually falling in love once in a blue moon & making it his mission to cook her extravagant meals everyday .

the wolf in sheep’s clothing label epitomizes his nice , helpful , charismatic exterior , while ulterior motives & disdain for those who grew up with more money than he did lurk beneath the surface .

he can be MEAN when someone fucks him over or pushes him farther than he wants - isn’t afraid to go for the low blows or send someone home with an identity crisis if it protects himself .

lowkey alcoholic but he’s not ready for that conversation yet . he sees it more as perks of the location & atmosphere he’s found himself in .

also lowkey falls in love HARD , like this man is a closeted romantic but self - sabotages all potential relationships before they can get to that point out of fear he’ll be unable to live life of his own volition ( takes a flaky philophobic sagittarius to know a flaky philophobic sagittarius 🤡 ) . has probably only had a few real relationships besides flings bc he’s afraid .

𝐯 .

check out my wanted plots tag listed here , as well as my pinterest wanted plots board here . here are some other suggestions hehe :

best friend / ride or die : someone who knows about his past , keeps him grounded when he’s lk spiraling & wants to drop everything & flee to some far flung corner of the earth .

actual relationship : it was fast - burn with deep feelings ( not them thinking they’re soulmates after dating for a month . . . pete & ariana type beat ) but completely unrealistic . they have their own life , he’s pretty much tied to the restaurant , not to mention his lack of sharing anything about his childhood / life back home . they loved & cared for each other , but crashed & burned fairly quickly because of how idealistic it was . they can either be on bad or good terms now .

hateship with sexual tension 😈

summer flings !!

fake boyfriend : he shows up on her arm to her family’s events where she’s expected to have a partner . it’s not a real relationship , but her parents don’t need to know that . he plays the part & satisfies her parents beyond the bare minimum , & in return she invites him to parties , takes him out on her family’s yacht , etc etc . we luv some symbiosis

i can always use more fwbs hehehe

squad : a group of people who do everything together , have a chaotic group chat , have nicknames for one another , are utd on each other’s sex lives , party all night then show up to brunch hungover together .

cat & mouse : someone he’s pursuing who isn’t quite giving in , & vice versa . maybe it’s been going on a few years , everytime they’re in st tropez they have this weird lil flirtationship thing goin on until she leaves , they forget about one another , then pick it right back up when she returns .

confidant : preferably someone from a working class background who understands his plight of being a worker amongst people who expect to be waited on .

enemies : they don’t like his attitude , & he doesn’t like them in return . lots of eye rolls , shit talking , & tension between their mutual friends .

we’re sleeping together but we shouldn’t be but that’s half the fun : for whatever reason they became friends , starting hooking up despite it not being a good idea ( read : he’s exes with one of her friends , her parents want her focused on career , they’re part of the same friend group , etc ) . . . but now they can’t stop . lots of stolen glances across rooms , squeezing past one another in a crowded club just close enough for a quick touch to the back , quietly leaving one another’s places the morning after & playing dumb to anyone who asks .

#villasintro #eeeek im hyped !!

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here4theheartbreak · 4 years

Text

Shared Souls and Snake Scales

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Jin Genre(s): Smut, Fluff

Rating: Explicit Tags: smut, fluff, soulmates, soulmate marks, demigods, tentacle monsters, human/monster romance, Nagas, shapeshifting, side Hoseok x Taehyung, double penetration, tentacle sex, come inflation, rough oral sex, dirty talk, unrealistic sex, aftercare, multiple orgasms, barebacking, bottom!Jimin, top!Jin

Summary: Jimin worries he'll never find his soulmate. It's rarer and rarer in today's world. So when his soulmate mark appears without him ever having knowingly touched someone, confusion abounds.

Word Count: ~14.1k

Hoseok let the heavy box of books drop to the floor with a thud, wiping sweat from his brow. “That’s the last one.”

Jimin bounced in, adding a smaller box and an armful of bags to another pile in the wide living area. “Thank you so much, Hobi; it would’ve taken me all day to do this myself.”

“It still took us all day,” Hoseok joked, letting Jimin wrap him into a hug.

“Okay, it would have taken me a week. Are you hungry? I ordered enough – it should be here soon.”

“Starving.” Hoseok looked around the mostly empty apartment. “It’s big… You got it for so cheap. Did you ask why?”

Jimin shrugged, turning to begin assembling a bookshelf lying in pieces in the corner. “I didn’t really ask. She just said they were eager to rent it out and folks never seemed to stay long enough to complete their leases.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea. It’s gorgeous. I could never imagine leaving early. I might renew the lease even, as long as nothing major comes up.”

“It’s kinda…” Hoseok shrugged, rubbing his hand over his forearm quickly. “Kind of a creepy feeling in here, isn’t it?”

Jimin paused, looking around himself. His brows furrowed. He could feel something… There, but it wasn’t creepy.

“No. I like the feeling.”

“Feels like we’re being watched,” Hoseok complained. He crouched down to begin helping Jimin assemble the shelf.

“Sort of… But not a bad thing. Like someone watching over you, right?”

Hoseok cocked a brow. “Feeling like you’re being watched in an empty apartment on the third floor should be uncomfortable, Jimin.”

Jimin shrugged again. He didn’t know how to explain it to Hoseok, really. Something felt right about this place. And sure, it was in a great part of town, it was spacious and adorable as hell, and it was super affordable, but there was something more. Jimin had felt like he was home the second he stepped beyond the threshold. There was a sort of tingle in the base of his spine, and an ease that slipped over him, like warmth on a cold winter morning.

He knew the stories of soulmates – the warm fuzzies someone gets when their missing piece is close, the tingle of sensation. Jimin wondered if maybe his soulmate was nearby, another apartment? Another building near? He knew it was silly. Irrational fairytales meant to soothe the ache of those in his situation, those without their complete souls. With the population of the world and no guarantee that your soulmate was on the same continent, let alone the same country or city, finding a true soulmate was like hunting for a needle in a haystack. Maybe it was an evolutionary advantage, or maybe it was a punishment from a past life; whatever it was, Jimin hated it. No matter how happy he was, he felt… Empty. Hoseok tried to understand, but he couldn’t. He’d been one of the lucky ones. He found his soulmate two years prior; a sweet guy by the name of Taehyung. He went to the same college that Jimin and Hoseok attended, and had actually become fast friends with Jimin first.

Jimin glanced down at the beautiful tattoo of shimmering black and silver film strip that wound its way around Hoseok’s forearm. Taehyung had a similar one, though his was sheet music of a tune Hoseok had written as a teenager. Jimin longed to see his own tattoo. Feel the comfort it brought, sharing an intimacy greater than any shared with a non-soulmate. Fairytales. Jimin knew he’d end up settling for a random person – or nobody. He’d never find his soulmate.

The two unpacked and ate, then unpacked some more, deciding a mattress and the television and a few electronics were the key things needed on this first night in the new apartment. As the darkness grew deeper and the cool chill of night set in, Hoseok tugged on his hoodie.

“Are you sure you will be safe here?” He asked for the fortieth time.

“Yes, Hobi. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve never lived alone…” Hoseok said softly.

“I know. And that’s why I have to do this. I’ll be okay. You’re only a few blocks away and phones are a thing.” Jimin shoved him playfully. “Time for you to let your Jiminie go.”

Hoseok laughed, ruffling Jimin’s hair.

“Well fine,” he conceded, “I’ll be over tomorrow morning to help you unpack more.”

“I’d like that. Goodnight, Hoseok.”

“Night, Minie.” Hoseok waved as he walked down the hall to the elevators. Jimin shut the door and turned to face the apartment, now faced with the deafening silence of solitude.

Jimin unpacked a few boxes, exhaustion hitting him like a truck now that he didn’t have Hoseok to keep his mind occupied. He managed to find a bowl and chopsticks, plugging in the microwave and making himself a bowl of ramen for a late-night snack before curling up on his mattress in his new bedroom. Now that the darkness had settled in, the creepiness that Hoseok had mentioned was beginning to creep into his bones. The apartment was settled just right so the city night lights didn’t really enter through the window. Instead, the pale moonlight filtered through, casting humanoid shadows from the stacks of boxes piled around the room. The closet door was ajar, and the deep darkness seemed to creep out onto the wood floor further and further the longer he stared. Biting back a shudder, Jimin rolled onto his side, staring at the wall until he was unable to keep his eyes open further.

The following week was a bustle of activity for Jimin. His friends came over often, helping him unpack and set up his apartment just right. This was the first time he’d been truly on his own, and despite his brave façade, he knew his friends could see the truth…. He was a bit terrified. But they did their best to make him feel like he was comfortable and going to be alright. Nights were the hardest; it seemed like no matter what Jimin did to make his room (and entire apartment) feel comfortable and homey, there was a thin layer of unease that churned his stomach into a nervous bubble. The unease – strangely enough – was often combatted with a sense of heavy calm like nothing Jimin had ever felt before. It settled into his bones and helped him find sleep despite the dark cloud of worry threading through him. A bizarre feeling, but one that – after three weeks in the new apartment – Jimin had simply come to accept as natural.

It was the morning exactly three months after he’d moved in – and the morning after the landlord had knocked on his door at six in the evening inquiring if he’d decided to move out yet (“no, why?” had cued a nervous laugh and a “no reason” from the landlord before the reminder that the rent was due in a week). Jimin woke up more refreshed and relaxed than he had in months. A tingling sensation seemed to cover his entire body, starting from his spine and radiating outward as he laid in bed. But it wasn’t uncomfortable or painful – rather it was relaxing, like the softest touch of a masseuse or the breath of a sleeping lover. The relaxing sensation had him drifting in and out of sleep far too long than he should have, and he was forced to rush through his shower and morning routine to make it to his Friday classes on time.

The day passed in a whirlwind despite there being nothing major happening. Jimin felt the strongest urge to go home and curl up in his room, warm under his covers and ready to nap with his partner. Partner. Lover. Boyfriend. The words echoed in his mind all day despite him having been all but celibate for the past six months. Oddly, the words didn’t leave that sullen ache in Jimin’s gut like they had for so long. Rather, that comforting tingle from that morning returned, running a glissando from his neck down to his tailbone and back up. He wondered if his gut had been correct the month before. If somehow – by some fateful twist of luck, his soulmate was somewhere in the same building. Of course, Jimin hadn’t met any of his neighbors to that point. He’d heard someone below him moving around at one point, but everyone seemed to keep to themselves, which was excellent for a quiet apartment building… Less excellent if one of them happened to be an elusive soulmate.

Despite his urge to head home as soon as his classes let out for the day, Jimin allowed Hoseok to convince him to go to the apartment they used to share (that he now shared with Taehyung). Once there, he was roped him into an evening of drinks and games.

Jimin stretched out on the floor, his eyes closing of their own will. They opened when Taehyung giggled, and a pang of longing struck his heart. Hoseok was nosing his way along Taehyung’s throat, placing gentle kisses on the tanned skin.

“I should get home,” Jimin said softly. It wasn’t that his friends made him feel badly on purpose; they never complained when he was with them and they did their best to include him as more than a third wheel. But they were soulmates and it showed. And it stung.

Taehyung leapt off the couch and tumbled onto Jimin, knocking the wind from his lungs. “You’re going nowhere,” he argued. Jimin laughed, trying to push his large friend off him.

“You’re drunk.”

“Am not, I’m contentedly tipsy.”

“Sure. Get off, I can’t breathe.” Jimin shoved at Taehyung’s side again. This time the other rolled off, but grabbed Jimin and forced him to roll along with him. Jimin squawked and pushed at him, giggling helplessly when Taehyung began to tickle his sides. The two rolled around on the floor a moment, ignoring Hoseok’s pleas to watch out and not break anything.

They couldn’t ignore him, however, when he shot up and grabbed the back of Jimin’s shirt. “When did you get a tat— Jimin!” Hoseok shouted.

Jimin scrambled up, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung rose as well, circling behind Jimin. He gasped. “That’s no tattoo… Jimin, how could you not tell us you met them? What are they like? Are they a boy? Girl? Non-binary? What the hell.” Taehyung shoved Jimin a little. He shook his head and turned.

“Who?”

“Your soulmate.” Hoseok said, crossing his arms. Both he and Taehyung looked a bit stunned, and a bit hurt. Jimin scowled.

“I haven’t met my soulmate, what are you guys on about. I’d have told you both first off.”

“Then explain your soulmate tattoo.”

“Honestly, it’s sort of weird. I feel like you’d know if you met him,” Taehyung argued.

“I don’t have a soulmate tattoo!” Jimin cried, his heart clenching in panic. Taehyung turned him and yanked his shirt up over his head. He heard the flash of a phone camera and Taehyung let it drop before handing the phone over.

On the center of his back, starting at the base of his hairline and stretching down approximately a quarter of his spine, was a beautifully detailed heart made of what looked like octopus tentacles. It was a rich purple-black with tiny speckles of pinkish.

“It’s so uniquely colored. It shimmers like oil in the light,” Taehyung said.

“And the sparkles are like… Glittery. I’ve never seen a soulmate mark that intense… Who is it, Jimin?”

“I—” Jimin tried to speak, unable to take his eyes away from the photograph. His back tingled like it had been all day, radiating from that spot on his back. He reached back, touching where it started on his neck. “I have no idea,” he whispered.

“I wonder if he’s some kinky freak or something,” Taehyung joked. Jimin looked at him, horror painting his features.

“You know, because of the tentacles,” Taehyung grinned, but a knot of grief and worry wound tight in Jimin’s belly.

“I—”

The smile slipped from Taehyung’s face. “I’m sure he’s not. He’s probably an ocean lover. Marine biologist maybe? Oh, that cute guy that does music with you, Hobi – Isn’t he a huge marine animal fanatic?”

“Namjoon? Yeah, but… This is new, isn’t it, Jimin?”

“Yeah. I didn’t have this last week.”

“And Namjoon’s been away visiting family for nearly two,” Hoseok said. “Do you have any idea who you touched this week? When this might have happened?”

Jimin shook his head. He backed up, slumping into a sit on the couch. Involuntary tears blurred his vision and he shook his head again. “I don’t know. I… Finally get my soulmate mark and I don’t even fucking know who he is.” He dropped his face in his hands. His heart seemed to shatter at the realization, a sharp twinge of pain in his chest and a wave of nausea rushing over him. Taehyung hurried to his side, wrapping an arm around him and pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“You’ll find him, Minie. If you got your mark then he got his too. I’m sure he’s looking everywhere for you. And you don’t travel a lot places, right? I mean – the school, back to your apartment, here. I mean you do your job on campus, but that doesn’t have a lot of face to face student contact. There’s only a few people he could be.”

“Or she,” Hoseok suggested. Jimin glanced up and chuckled without much humor. “Wouldn’t that be a riot. I’m a gay man and my soulmate’s a girl.”

“It’s happened. I’m sure you two would figure it out.”

Jimin slouched back against the couch, sighing. “How did I miss it? I thought when I found my soulmate it’s be some amazing, mindblowing thing. The way you two discuss it… It seemed like it was so beautiful.”

“I mean, it was,” Taehyung agreed. “But we were able to see the tattoo appearing on each other’s arms, that was half of it. The seeing and knowing what it meant. If we hadn’t been able to see it, I don’t think it would have been near as mindblowing physically.”

Jimin shrugged halfheartedly. His mind was running a mile a minute, trying to think of everyone he could have potentially even brushed hands with in the past week. How long had it been there? When was the last time he actually looked at his back in the mirror? Would someone else have noticed it appearing suddenly? The questions flooded Jimin’s mind, but one thing remained clear. He had his soulmate. Likely in his very city, even potentially someone he saw daily. But he had just as little clue as to who it could be than before.

“Why don’t we help you hunt him down tomorrow?” Hoseok asked suddenly, breaking Jimin out of his rabbit trail of thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Your soulmate. I bet we can track them down if all three of us really put our minds to it. There’s only so many folks it could be in our area, right?”

“I guess so.”

“I know it’s disappointing… But be happy, Jimin. You have a soulmate. We just gotta find them,” Taehyung said, pushing Jimin playfully. He tried to smile, but knew it came off as flat.

“I think I should just head home for the night. It’s late.”

“Let me walk you,” Hoseok said. Jimin shook his head, rising and tugging his hoodie on. “I want to be alone right now. Just to think, okay?”

Hoseok nodded. He and Taehyung both hugged Jimin and bid him goodnight, requesting a text when he reached his apartment safely. Jimin headed out into the cool evening air, his heart heavier than it had been all day.

Strangely, as he walked, he seemed to feel a sensation of peace come over him. Like he was going someplace he needed to be. It was reasonable, he figured, since he was heading home. But his home had never felt this way. That subtle thread of dread and fear had always kept him from feeling entirely at peace, but now it seemed like that was gone. Maybe he’d finally realized he enjoyed the apartment. Maybe it was something to do with the soulmate mark. Jimin was rightfully too drained to bother dwelling on it. He’d worry about it all tomorrow, he figured as he stripped out of his coat and shoes once in the apartment.

In the bathroom he couldn’t help but twist to admire the intricate tattoo on his spine. A perfect anatomical heart made entirely out of what looked like octopus tentacles, the one matching the vena cava snaking up almost into his hairline. It was larger than his fist and the outline shimmered in the light like it had been tattooed with iridescent black ink. The colors of the heart itself shifted, deep shimmering purple-black making up most of it, reminiscent of an oil slick, but highlighted in areas with a rich, vibrant, metallic magenta. The entire piece was stunning. Reaching back, Jimin traced the outline as he looked at it, his heart both swelling with the pride of finally having a mark… And aching that the person who gave it to him was not in his arms.

Jimin flopped into bed in his shorts, staring up at the dark ceiling as he thought about who his soulmate might be. Was he a kinky guy like Taehyung had implied? Jimin wouldn’t mind. A sea animal lover? Marine biologist? Sushi chef? The possibilities were endless. And what did his tattoo look like? Jimin’s passion was music – how did the two work together? Was it even a guy? A girl, a nonbinary or genderfluid person maybe? Jimin didn’t think he’d mind. He’d always been into guys, but knew soulmates didn’t always follow those rules. Jimin drifted off to sleep, wondering if he would ever find the one that had left the mark on his back.

Jimin woke with a start to the whisper of his name. He looked around the pitch black room, dread settling onto his chest like a weight. It was far too dark. He glanced up to where his window should have been opened a bit, letting in the cool night air and the light of the city. Instead he was met with nothing but shadows, creating a blackness on top of a blackness. He pulled his blanket a little higher up his chest. He had to be dreaming.

“Can’t run,” the voice was right in Jimin’s ear, cold and chalky. Jimin screamed, shooting up into a sitting position. An unseen pressure landed on his chest, knocking him back flat onto the bed.

“Can’t run!” The voice shouted again; almost taunting him as he struggled. Something cold, slimy, and thick wriggled up Jimin’s bare chest. He screamed again and grabbed it, feeling it squish under his fingers like the body of a particularly slimy eel. Two more eel like appendages wrapped around his wrists, squeezing and forcing his hands down to the bed. The one on his chest was joined by a second, and both moved up and curled around his throat. Jimin shouted when they began to squeeze, closing his airway. He struggled, bucking off the bed with all his might in an effort to loosen the grip of the things on his throat and wrists. Instead, he felt two more wrap around his ankles, pinning them to his bed. Another slid over his chest, pressing down with an inhuman strength. Jimin screamed brokenly once more, his voice cracking with lack of air. His vision began to grey around the edges as consciousness slipped away.

Jimin shot up in bed, his entire body soaked and tense. He clawed at his chest and throat, the memory of the slimy things still fresh in his mind. With panicked eyes, he looked around, relieved to see his room in its normal state, the soft filter of the city lights illuminating his desk and bookshelf, dresser, and television. He slumped back down in his bed, now uncomfortably cool and damp from the sweat as he struggled to control his breathing. He hadn’t had nightmares in months, and couldn’t recall ever having one so vivid and disturbing.

Every time Jimin closed his eyes he could feel the slick, wet things running over his body, the squeeze of their grip on his neck, and the terror that his life was in danger. It wasn’t until the sun had already begun to lighten his room that he finally found the will to drift off to sleep once more.

Jimin flailed, swinging his arms out when Taehyung nudged him. He’d nearly fallen asleep at the table, his cheek smushed against his hand as he stared mindlessly at the people passing by in the college cafeteria.

“You okay?” Taehyung worried, grabbing Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from falling out of the chair.

“Hm? Yeah.”

“We’ll find them, Jimin. I promise,” Taehyung said.

“I know. I mean, I don’t know, but I’m not stressing. Honestly I’m just so tired I can barely focus.”

“Not enough sleep?” Hoseok asked.

“Not at all. Terrible nightmares.”

“What about?”

Jimin chuckled, stretching and shaking his hands out in an attempt to wake up a little bit. “Don’t laugh… But tentacle monsters.”

Taehyung and Hoseok both burst into laughter.

“I said don’t laugh,” Jimin deadpanned, smirking after. He reached across the space and grabbed the coffee Hoseok was sipping on, taking a swig. “It was horrifying. They were pinning me down and choking me, it felt so real.”

“I wonder if it’s a manifestation of missing your soulmate?” Taehyung theorized, tapping his finger on his chin. “I mean we don’t know what the tentacles signify, and obviously you don’t know who your soulmate is, so I wonder if it was a manifestation of your stress about it?”

“Why aren’t you a philosophy major?” Hoseok asked, and Taehyung chuckled.

“Probably because he’s fuckin’ crazy,” Jimin said, shaking his head. “But you’re probably right. It just sucked. And I didn’t sleep well because of it.”

“We could try again tomorrow,” Taehyung suggested. “We’ve been sitting here for a few hours with no luck. Maybe this isn’t where you bumped into him.”

Jimin’s shoulders sagged. He looked desperately around at the emptying cafeteria, as if his soulmate would magically reveal themselves to him.

“I know it’s disappointing,” Taehyung whispered. He wrapped an arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “Wanna try another location today before giving in for the day?”

“No,” Jimin whispered. “It’s pointless. I’m never going to find them. They probably haven’t even noticed it. It’s on our backs – Who actually stares at their own back? They aren’t looking for me.” Jimin clenched his lips against his teeth, struggling not to say more. Even if they were looking for him… Was he worth finding? What could he offer a soulmate? After all these years longing for one – did he even deserve one?

“Jimin.” Hoseok’s voice was soft. “Don’t beat yourself up for this.”

“’M not.”

“You are. Wanna come to our place tonight? Stay over maybe?” Taehyung offered.

Jimin shook his head. “I’m tired, honestly. I think it’s time to call it quits… I should go try to rest.”

“Jimin—”

“I’m okay,” Jimin said again, gathering his belongings and stuffing them into his backpack. He offered what he hoped was a convincingly comforting smile to his friends before hurrying out and off the campus toward his apartment.

When he reached his apartment, he settled in to work on some of his homework that had built up, brewing a pot of coffee far too strong to be healthy to keep him awake at least a few more hours. Going to bed this early in the evening would do nothing to help in the long run. The house felt almost suffocating in its silence. Jimin watched the sun set through his window, normally soothing to him; tonight, he felt an uneasy weight on his chest, as if he was being watched. He was used to a general ‘watched’ feeling in his apartment, but not like this. This felt like his nightmare. Dark and big and sinister.

Despite the unease he felt, he crawled into bed, unable to keep awake even with the aide of caffeine. “No bad dreams tonight,” he whispered as he scrolled through his phone. Hoseok had texted him a few times, as well as Taehyung once, so he sent a quick text letting them know he was okay, and headed to bed. Despite his bad attitude that day, he was very grateful for his friends being there, willing to help out. He set his phone on the bedside stand and sighed into the darkening room.

“No bad dreams.”

Jimin’s eyes snapped open. He looked around the pitch dark of his room, watching the way the shadows of the passing cars filtered over his belongings. It was his room, not a weird space like last night. He touched his nose, lightly pressing his nail against it just enough to hurt. Okay, likely awake… So, what had woken him?

A creak from the doorway caught Jimin’s attention. He sat up, sheet pooling around his middle. “Hello?” He called out instinctively, wondering if Hoseok or Taehyung might have come by. They were the only ones with the key to his apartment. Did Jimin remember to lock the door? Panic clenched a fist around his heart.

Another creak, and his half-shut bedroom door squeaked open slowly. Jimin’s breathing picked up and he kicked his legs up, trying to push himself to the top of the bed, as far from the door as he could. He glanced around the dark room, wondering if he could reach anything that could be used as a weapon.

“Who’s there?” He called again into the black hallway. The silence as absolutely deafening. Jimin could hear his heart thudding in his chest.

“Hobi? This isn’t funny.” Jimin tried to keep the shaking from his voice. The floor creaked again, and his door pushed open the rest of the way. The temperature in the room immediately dropped low enough that Jimin could see his breath. The darkness from the hallway seemed to grow and expand, oozing into Jimin’s room like some sort of goo.

The first tentacle came from his right, just out of his vision until it wrapped around his arm, yanking him nearly off the bed. Jimin screamed. He grabbed at the thing on his wrist, so black it looked like shadows. It was wet and thick, and Jimin could feel the pressure of small suckers like an octopus against his skin. Another wrapped around his left arm, yanking it away. Jimin screamed for help, his eyes bulging as the dark creature fully entered the room. It was huge and black, almost invisible in the dark room. But every speck of light seemed to be swallowed by the thing; the lights of cars, the glint of the moon. The only clear thing on the creature were its eyes, rich and blood red.

And its teeth, Jimin realized, when he saw a glint of eerily white, sharp fangs. He screamed again.

A tentacle jammed itself into his mouth. The wet, slimy feeling on his tongue tasted of oil, blood, and dirt, and Jimin gagged. He bit down as hard as he could, feeling a spray of something warm and coppery. The creature reared back, making a noise akin to a record scratching. It withdrew from his mouth, but another wrapped around his throat and began to squeeze. Jimin continued to scream until the ability to draw air for breathing was more important than screaming. Still he struggled, and each time he did more tentacles wrapped around his body, squeezing, bruising, and pinning him.

Jimin’s vision began to grey out at the edges, his heart stuttering in his chest as he struggled to breathe. This was it – this was how he was going to die. He wondered about the soulmate he’d never found. And his friends, they would be devastated. Just before the blackness of unconsciousness swallowed Jimin up, he heard him.

“Let that human go!”

The tentacle around his throat loosened momentarily and Jimin forced his eyes open wider. A towering figure stood in the entrance of his closet. A man – sort of – with a bare chest and broad shoulders. Where his legs should have been was a tail, melding into the flesh of his waist. It was thick and scaled, thinning out at the end like that of a gigantic snake. Even in the low light Jimin could see the way it shined almost iridescent black and purple.

“I said let him go!” The snake-man roared again when the tentacles stayed put on Jimin’s body.

“You can’t give me a command and expect me listen, you freak.” The voice from the creature holding Jimin hostage was thick and deep, almost sounding like he was speaking underwater. It sent chills down Jimin’s spine.

“This is my house,” the snake-man said. “That is my human!”

“You haven’t so much as raised the hair on his arms! You’re a pathetic monster! They sent me to do what you can’t, weakling!”

The tentacle began to tighten around Jimin’s throat again. The snake-man snarled. Six tentacles burst from behind the man, the same iridescent shimmer as his tail. They wrapped around the shadowy figure suffocating Jimin, yanking at the tentacles holding him down. The tentacles released, allowing Jimin to scrambled upright. He snapped the light on as the two figures fought in the center of his small bedroom, overturning things on his dresser and desk. He looked around, desperate for an escape route to the door, but found the way blocked by the snake-man’s tail. He was stuck. He grabbed his blankets and pillows, trying to put as much of a barrier as he could between himself and the creatures. With the light on he could see his attacker – a tall lean figure covered in what looked like matte oil from head to toe. He had at least eight tentacles, but the movement made it hard to count, even if Jimin had wanted to. Tears flowed freely from Jimin’s eyes as the snake-man got his arms involved, grabbing and twisting two of the tentacles of the other. It screamed in pain, swearing at the snake-man. One of his tentacles, a thicker one than the rest, twisted around the attacker’s throat, squeezing hard until his tentacles – and body – began to sag.

“I told you this is my territory. This is my house. You, nor any one else from this realm, will enter. If you do, I will kill you on sight. You know I have the strength to.”

“You—” The creature choked out, “You’re done for, freak! I’ll see to it you’re never welcome back in our realm!”

“I hate that place anyway. As long as you keep away from my home, we’ll be fine.” He lifted the creature easily with the tentacle around his throat and threw him into the closet. Jimin squeaked in surprise when a doorway seemed to open, swallowing the creature before closing and leaving nothing but the closet wall and Jimin’s clothes.

The snake-man turned. His face was strikingly beautiful, even with the light smattering of ridged scales along his cheekbones and brow bone, trailing down his nose.

“Are you okay?” He asked, slithering toward Jimin. Jimin scrambled back, sobbing brokenly. The man paused and looked down.

“Oh God, of course. Hold on.” His entire form seemed to shimmer and shudder in front of Jimin’s tear blurred eyes. When he cleared up, instead of the half snake form, a normal looking man stood in front of Jimin. He wore a pair of black pants and had bare feet. He stood just around six feet, with a shock of shaggy black hair. His face was stunning with or without the ridges, eyes dark and piercing. His chest was still bare, with well-defined muscles every visible spot. “Did he hurt you?”

“Wh—” Jimin swallowed hard, steadying his breathing. “What are you?”

“My name is Jin. I—It’s hard to explain. We’re sort of… Monsters under the bed? Or, I guess in your case, in your closet.”

“Monsters aren’t real.” Jimin whispered, looking nervously at the closet.

“Well, we are.” Jin walked over, touching the back wall. “The way to our realm has been sealed – he won’t be back. I’ll go, you don’t need to worry. You’re safe.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as Jin touched the wall. On his bare back, directly between his shoulder blades, was a detailed, anatomical heart made out of musical notes, a perfect match to the one Jimin had… In the same color pattern as the scales on Jin’s tail and face.

“This will seem like a bad dream in the daylight,” Jin said, turning his head just enough that Jimin could make out his profile. He pushed the wall again, opening what looked like another door, similar to the one that had swallowed his attacker.

“Wait!” Jimin cried, shooting forward before he realized it. “Your tattoo.”

Jin hesitated. “I don’t have any tattoos.”

“On your back.” Jimin pointed. Jin frowned, glancing back as far as his neck would let him. Jimin laughed a little at the action, almost forgetting that the handsome man standing in front of him was a monster just two minutes prior.

“The mirror.” Jimin pointed to the now crooked mirror on his wall. Jin went over to it, turning and checking. His eyes bulged when he saw – seemingly for the first time – the tattoo on his back.

“What is that?” He bellowed, clearly surprised.

“It’s a soulmate tattoo. It’s… It’s a match to mine.” Jimin turned enough that Jin could see his back. He turned back, his heart thudding against his ribs. “Did you – Have you touched... Touched me?”

If it was possible for a nearly six-foot man to look small, Jin managed. His ears reddened visibly and his shoulders sank. “Once. I—I’m such a creep. I’m supposed to be a creep, I suppose, but I’m bad at it. You—Were sleeping and I brushed your hair from your face. A few nights ago. I’m so sorry, I won’t bother you again.” He turned and rushed toward the opening.

“No!” Jimin shouted, his heart clenching in fear that the man would leave for good. He should let him; he was a monster… But he was Jimin’s soulmate. That had to mean something. “Please, don’t go yet,” Jimin said softly when Jin hesitated again. “Please talk to me.”

Jin lowered his gaze. He waved his hand, shutting the doorway that he’d opened. He leaned against the wall, eyes still downcast.

“What are you?” Jimin asked.

“A monster. That’s all that matters.”

“But monsters aren’t supposed to be real. Please, Jin—You said your name was Jin, right? I’m Jimin.”

“I know. I learned your name right away, when you moved in. I’m the monster that haunts this apartment. Or, I should. I’m supposed to terrorize anyone in this bedroom. But with you, I—I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you were the most beautiful thing I’d seen in my time in this world. I couldn’t bear the thought of scaring you away and never seeing your face again.”

Jimin smiled a little at the out of place compliment. “Why do you scare people?”

“My kind—The monsters, we feed on fear and terror. Death is like a twelve course meal to us. Any time a monster scares someone, it energizes our world.”

“So you need fear to live?”

“Not me personally. I’m different. That’s why Donghyuk was calling me a freak.”

“The one that tried to kill me.”

Jin nodded. “I’m not fully a monster. I’m also part Naga. My father was a Naga who fell in love with my mother – she was a monster. They had me. I’m part monster, the tentacles, the job… But also part demi-god.”

“I’ve heard of Nagas. They’re snake people. The tail—”

“Yes. I use it for my monster work, but it’s a sign of my other half. It makes me a freak.”

Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed. “The mark—”

“I can’t be your soulmate, Jimin,” Jin said softly. “I know what they are, in theory but I’m a monster. I don’t even know if I have a soul.”

“You have to.”

Jin tilted his head questioningly.

“A soulmate mark appears because two people share the same soul. It’s the sign of the soul finally becoming complete. If you didn’t have a soul… You wouldn’t get a mark. You share my soul, Jin.”

“But I’m a freak, I can’t do good. I’m a monster, you’re a beautiful human, I—”

Jimin’s heart clenched at the fear tightening Jin’s voice. Without thinking, he crawled out of his bed and rushed to him, wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders. Jin gasped and tensed at the touch, and Jimin could feel his heart pounding erratically. “You share my soul. Monster, Naga, it—We’ll figure it out. I’ve been waiting years to find my soulmate… Please don’t run away.”

Jin relaxed a little when Jimin spoke. He wrapped his arms lightly and awkwardly around Jimin’s middle, clearly unsure what to do with himself.

“Aren’t you scared of me? You saw my other form… You saw what I am.”

“I’m scared,” Jimin admitted, “but new things are scary. I want to learn about you, so maybe you won’t be so scary to me. And right now you aren’t. You’re beautiful.” Jimin stepped back a little, searching Jin’s face. His dark eyes had the lightest shimmers of deep purple, the same color as his tail. “You’re really beautiful,” he whispered.

Jin smiled sheepishly. “First time I’ve heard that. I mean… Without being called a freak right after. Beauty isn’t a thing to be proud of where I’m from.”

“Where you’re from. That thing—He said you couldn’t go back.”

“Right. The way has been locked to me. I broke the rules. I’m banned.”

“That’s your home.”

Jin shrugged. “Never been much of a home. And I can go to other worlds. Live there.”

“Or you could live in this one,” Jimin whispered.

Jin’s small smile dropped. “I couldn’t. I don’t know your world. I’d scare people.”

“Not in this form. You look perfectly human. I could teach you what you don’t know. Get you a job.” Jimin swallowed hard. “You’re my soulmate. I found you. Or, you found me. Or maybe I was drawn to this place because of you. Please… Give me a chance.”

Jin chuckled softly. “Why is the beautiful human begging the monster for a chance? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” His voice was soft and gentle as he gazed into Jimin’s eyes. Jimin’s chest tightened almost uncomfortably.

“Well the human already wants you to stay… If you want to.”

Jin remained silent for a moment, his eyes roaming over Jimin’s face. He wet his lips. “If I can be honest…”

Jimin nodded, giving him the go ahead to speak.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

“Nothing stopping you,” Jimin said, shrugging. He stepped back up to Jin, his heart thudding a rhythm so loud he worried others could hear it.

“Have you ever…”

“Been kissed? In the past, yeah. I’m not entirely innocent… Are you… You haven’t?”

“I have. Not a very good one, it was a dare.” Jin chuckled. “Kiss the freak, sleep with the freak type thing. I’m really too hideous to have found anyonei in my world, or this one.”

Jimin shook his head. He touched Jin’s cheek. “No, you aren’t.”

“This isn’t all of me, Jimin. You saw what I am.”

Jimin stepped back. “Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me all of you. I won’t run away. You’re my soulmate, I have a choice too. I either accept all of you, or none of you. That’s only fair to you.”

Jin hesitated. He glanced at the closet and then around the small room. “Back up a little more.”

Jimin obeyed, crawling back onto his bed. He sat cross legged, watching Jin. The air around him began to waver and shimmer like it had before, but this time Jimin could see more clearly, the shift between skin and scales as the tail grew from his hips and engulfed his legs. When things settled, Jin still stood, his tail curled around him in a lazy series of loops. He was resting his elbows on the topmost, head on his palm.

“And the… Rest?”

“These?” Jin shifted his shoulders just a bit, and the tentacles appeared behind him. There were six in total. Two were thick like those of a marine creature, with suckers along the light grey underside. Two were far thinner, almost whiplike, but they seemed to pulse in a steady rhythm. And the final two were just a few inches around, smooth and slick looking. All six matched the oil slick iridescence of Jin’s scales. They twitched and moved around him seemingly of their own volition.

Jimin rose, ignoring the knot in his stomach. “Can you control them?”

“Mostly. They move on their own sometimes, a bit like an animal’s tail, I’d imagine. But I won’t hurt you.”

Jimin reached out slowly. He ran his hand over one of the loops of Jin’s curled tail, relaxing a little. “You’re cold.”

“Cold blooded. The snake part of me. I’m actually quite cozy.”

“And so smooth.” Jimin stroked another spot, letting his blunt nails brush over the ridges. Jin giggled.

“Tickles.”

Jimin smiled softly. He reached up, palm outstretched, toward the tentacles lazily twitching behind Jin. A large, suckered one moved forward, bumping Jimin’s hand. Jimin let it wrap loosely around his palm, giggling a little at the feel of the suckers. They were gentle, entirely unlike the ones grabbing him earlier. He reached his other hand out and grabbed the smooth, slick one, not missing the way Jin gasped and shuddered visibly.

“Does it hurt?”

“No… That—That one feels kinda good.”

“Oh.” Jimin hesitated. “Oh!”

Jin lowered his gaze a little. “Sorry. There’s so much about me you don’t know, I’m afraid of overwhelming you.”

Jimin let go of the smooth tentacle, noticing the light sheen of liquid on his hand. It was the same dark oil slick shimmer as the rest of Jin’s non-human parts. “What’s—”

“Uh… Now is where it gets awkward.”

“Come?”

“It can be used sexually but it’s… Not like that. Just a natural, uh… Like a human’s spit. Something that it just makes naturally. Helpful for a lot things. But, yeah… It’s often used as lubrication for that.”

Jimin bit his lip. He reached for the smaller ones, surprised when it twitched out of his grasp.

“Those ones are far more sensitive… And very much for mating.” Jin explained.

“So two for grabbing, two for everything, two for sex. Sounds pretty rounded. Do you… I mean you can shift into a human form. Do you have all the human parts?”

“Well… Sort of. I have a penis, if that’s what you’re asking. But I sort of have two. It’s a snake thing.”

“Wow.” Jimin huffed a stunned laugh. He slid his hand over the tentacle still on his wrist, gently moving up and down his arm. “Is this how you guys hold hands.”

“No. To be honest I just… Really like touching you. It’s been a long time. That’s why I brushed your hair that night. I didn’t mean to touch you, I was watching over you and I just couldn’t resist.”

“It’s the night you gave me this…” Jimin reached back to where his tattoo was.

“May I see it closer?”

Jimin turned, leaning his head forward a little. He felt Jin’s fingers, startlingly warm in comparison to his scales and tentacle, brush over the mark. “It’s me. My colors and my appendages… What is the one on my neck?”

“May I photograph it? It’ll be easier for you to look at.”

“Just don’t get the rest of me in it.”

Jimin nodded. The tentacle on his arm released to allow him to walk to his bed and grab his phone. He took a photo, carefully avoiding the non-human parts of Jin, then reached out and brushed his fingers over it. It was an anatomical heart, same as the one on his neck, but it was made out of various musical notes, lined and twisted together. It was bright shades of rainbow that seemed to shift as Jin did, the holographic opposite of his own oil slick dark.

“Is everything okay?” Jin worried.

“I’m just admiring it.” Jimin walked back around and handed over his phone. Jin examined the tattoo carefully, his brows furrowed.

“You like music.”

“It’s my passion. I’m a music major in college even. Dance, specifically.”

“And the colors – Opposite to the one you wear.”

“Maybe because we’re so opposite… It’s definitely a soulmate mark though.”

“I have a soul… I share your soul,” Jin whispered. He let Jimin take the phone back and toss it onto the table.

“So what now?” Jimin asked softly, clasping his hands in front of him.

“Well… I’m your soulmate and you’re mine. And you.. You’ve seen all there is to see from me, mostly… Do you still want me?”

Jimin reached out, sliding his hands over the scales once more. He traced the subtle patterns in them, remaining silent. One of the suckered tentacles reached out, brushing his hair from his forehead. Jimin smiled, reaching up and grabbing it. He gave a playful squeeze, laughing a little when Jin’s eyes slipped closed.

“I want you,” Jimin finally whispered. “Even like this.”

“So I’ll stay,” Jin said softly.

“You’ll need to be in human form most of the time… Is that okay?”

“Yes. I don’t want to frighten the humans in your world… I want to fit in. I’ve seen you with your friends, you have so much fun.”

Jimin beamed. “Taehyung is going to love you. I can’t wait to introduce you two.”

“What if I mess up?”

“Tae’ll be the best one to do it to. He’s my best friend. He will keep your secret even if you slip. He’ll be a good test run.”

“And a job? I have no schooling… Not like you humans.”

Jimin tapped his chin in thought. His other hand was still absently tracing over Jin’s scaly body. “We’ll find you something. Maybe something online, I can teach you to use a computer. Or something simple, cleaning at my college maybe, or if you’re a good cook. But we’ll figure that out later. Right now, I want to get to know you, and get you used to this world.”

“You’re too kind…”

“I told you, I’ve waited a long time for my soulmate. I want to be good for you, and make sure you’re happy.”

Jin shifted then, slowly uncoiling his tail. He moved forward. “Don’t be scared. Stay still.”

He began to move in circles around Jimin then, recoiling himself lightly around him, careful not to squeeze. He ended up nearly face to face with Jimin, just a bit taller, his arms around him. “This is how I hug.”

Jimin grinned broadly, looking around at the scaly cage Jin had trapped him in. He touched everywhere he could, sliding his hands along the coils and touching the place where they faded into Jin’s belly. Jin remained still, letting Jimin’s hands explore.

“How strong are you?”

“Stronger than you’d care to know in the center of my coil, trust me.”

“Could I climb over them?” Jimin wondered.

“Easily.”

“Could you pick me up with it?”

“In theory yes. In practice, a bit harder without hurting you. Far easier to pick you up with my arms than my tail.”

“Fair point… Do you shed like a normal snake?”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Twice a year. It’s hell. I look horrible and it’s so itchy,” He complained.

“Well now you’ll have me to help scratch the itch when you need it. I bet we can find some stuff to help too, I can talk to my friend Jungkook. He loves snakes.” Jimin traced his finger along Jin’s waist where the scales met skin. He looked up at Jin, smiling softly. “I should really get to bed.”

“Hm… You could sleep right here. I’m far more comfortable than that bed.”

“I can’t sleep standing,” Jimin complained, but made no move to get out of the center of Jin’s coil. “You should sleep with me.”

“What?”

“Well, don’t you sleep?”

“Of course.”

“So, I only have one bed. And I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch. If you’re in human form, you should fit.”

“I… Don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Jimin asked. Worries filled his mind. Did he smell? Was Jin not into him like that? What if he was forcing Jin into this?

Seeming to sense his concern, Jin raised his hands. “It’s not you,” he said. “It really is me. I—I’m finding my response to you very alarming.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… It’s been a long time since I’ve been touched so kindly and my body—I—I’m responding to it in a way I didn’t expect.”

Jimin frowned for a second, trying to piece together what his adorably shy soulmate was hinting at. When it clicked, he laughed.

“You don’t wanna sleep with me because you’re horny?”

Jin’s entire face reddened visibly. He looked everywhere but Jimin. “Well, when you put it so bluntly…”

“It’s okay,” Jimin said quickly. He pressed himself against Jin’s chest, wrapping his arms around his middle. He looked up at him. “It’s okay. You’re really handsome and I get it. Trust me.”

“Even like this?”

“It took some getting used to but… Yeah… You have a gorgeous face and you smell amazing and… The tentacles…” Jimin bit his lip. “Could be fun.”

Jin swallowed hard. “You’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m kind of hoping to make it harder.” Jimin chuckled to himself. “Make them harder, I suppose.”

Jin’s breath caught in his throat. “We just met.”

“We don’t have to do anything… I’m just letting you know… You aren’t the only one feeling like this. So, if you want to sleep with me. My bed’s available. As soon as I clean up the mess that asshole made of my room.” Jimin looked around at the sorry state of his bedroom. Jin did as well, making a small noise.

“Let me help.” He uncoiled from Jimin, shifting back into his two-legged form. The two cleaned up the furniture and fallen items in relative silence, each deep in thought about the changes that had come that evening.

When they finished, Jimin drew in a breath through his teeth, looking Jin up and down. Jin looked down at his own body.

“Something wrong?”

“Well, you have on jeans. That can’t be comfortable to sleep in. We’re different sizes but I think I have something.” Jimin padded over to his dresser, digging around for a few moments. He made a noise of success and pulled out a pair of baggy pajama bottoms. He passed them over to Jin. “Try these… I won’t peek.”

He flopped onto the bed on his back and threw an arm over his eyes dramatically. The room remained silent for a moment. When Jimin heard the telltale zipper sound, he couldn’t help but shift his elbow just a bit, peeking out from under his arm. Jin was working his jeans down his muscular hips, facing away from Jimin. Jimin felt his heartrate pick up as Jin’s ass was revealed, just as muscular and tight as the rest of his visible skin. Jin turned his head a little.

“I know you’re peeking.”

Jimin giggled, moving his arm from his eyes. “How could you tell?” He asked, not bothering to hide his gaze. Jin dropped his pants, giving Jimin a clear view of his ass as he stepped out of them. Much to Jimin’s disappointment, he remained turned away from him as he pulled the pajamas on.

“Because I can sense when someone is watching me. Defense mechanism.”

“Well that’s no fun,” Jimin pouted. He moved over against the wall. “Come to bed.”

“Are you sure about this, Jimin?” Jin asked, turning to face him.

Jimin nodded. “I know… Things are strange. But I also know we’re meant to be together. That’s what soulmates are. There’s really no moving too fast when you know it’s fate, is there?”

Jin tilted his head. “You’re not wrong. And… My kind don’t really have a moving slow part of relationships… We usually just date to breed. But I know your kind does.”

“Well, sometimes… Other times just dating to breed can be fun,” Jimin joked. He shook his head. “But soulmates are different. We don’t need to do anything, I’m not expecting more than to sleep. I’d just like to make sure you feel welcome here too.”

Jin crawled onto the bed, laying stiff and awkward on his back.

“Do you mind cuddling?” Jimin asked softly.

“I’ve never done it… But it sounds nice.”

Jimin moved closer, feeling Jin tense beside him. Jimin placed a hand on his firm stomach, splaying his fingers.

“Relax,” he whispered, letting his lips brush Jin’s earlobe. Jin drew in a quick breath. He placed his hand over Jimin’s, his body relaxing a little.

Jimin swallowed hard. He brushed his nose lightly over the soft skin behind Jin’s ear, inhaling. He smelled both sweet and bitter, wildflowers in a field of woods, moss and dirt, fresh honey and an ocean breeze. Jimin let his lips rest on Jin’s neck. “Earlier… You said you wanted to kiss me,” he whispered, feeling goosebumps raise against his lips as he spoke in soft puffs.

“I did.”

“Do you still?” Jimin raised his head, propping himself up on one elbow. He met Jin’s dark gaze, dropping his own down to Jin’s mouth and back up. “Want to kiss me.”

Jin nodded haltingly, his own eyes lowering. Jimin wet his lips.

“Why haven’t you?”

Jin shrugged one shoulder. Jimin could see his face reddening just a bit, creeping up his neck and ears.

“You’re so shy. Something I wouldn’t expect for a demigod… Or a monster in my closet.”

“I’m not used to being seen. Or looked at with such kindness,” Jin admitted.

“It’s what you deserve.” Jimin leaned a little closer. “So if you want to kiss me… You should.”

Jin swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did.

There was a weight on Jimin’s chest. He wanted so badly to lean down, to taste Jin’s soft, full mouth. But he didn’t want to push. Jin seemed torn, eyes darting between Jimin’s gaze and his mouth. Jimin offered a small smile.

Jin took a deep breath then and smiled as well. He reached up and let his hand rest on the back of Jimin’s neck. He leaned up, closing the gap between their mouths.

Jimin gasped at the feel of Jin’s soft lips against his own. They slotted together perfectly. He darted his tongue out, brushing over Jin’s bottom lip playfully. Jin huffed softly against his cheek, his mouth curling into a smile even in the kiss. He let his head drop and Jimin followed, not wanting to break it yet. It deepened slowly, mouths moving together and finding an easy rhythm. Jin’s breath tickled his skin, the tongues brushing and retreating in an almost playful dance.

Emboldened, Jimin shifted over, swinging his leg over Jin’s hips and settling onto his lap. He buried his fingers in Jin’s soft, dark hair, tugging just a little. The whine Jin gave was heaven to his ears. Jin slid his hands down Jimin’s back, his grip firm and steady despite his earlier hesitation. He cupped his ass and gave a little squeeze. Jimin giggled. He pushed his ass back against Jin’s hands, tugging at his hair again. Jin groaned then, and his teeth clamped lightly on Jimin’s bottom lip in a clear warning.

Jimin moaned into his mouth. He let his hips jerk down, meeting Jin’s aggressively. He could feel a stiffness in Jin’s pants, and his mind wandered to Jin’s earlier confession about his anatomy. Curious, he ground down again, and Jin moaned. He finally broke the kiss, keeping his mouth close to Jin’s, just pulling back enough to gaze into his eyes. Jin’s eyes were lust blown dark, blinking quickly to focus on Jimin’s face as he began to grind against him.

“Jimin—”

“Does it feel good?”

Jin nodded, grabbing Jimin’s hips. Jimin leaned back, settling fully on Jin’s lap. The front of his sweats were tented out with his erection, a tiny spot darkening at the tip. He began to grind against Jin’s crotch in a steady rhythm, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Jin whined, arching up against Jimin. “Please—”

“Please what?” Jimin asked. He stripped his shirt off and slid his hand down his own chest, playing his fingers along the string of his sweats. “Do you want to see me?”

“God, so badly,” Jin confessed. He grabbed Jimin’s wrist when he went to untie his sweats. “But it’s so late… You don’t know what you’re getting into with me.”

As if on cue, the tentacles emerged from Jin’s back, reaching toward Jimin. Jimin’s breath caught. His cock twitched in his pants and his stomach knotted. He didn’t know what he was getting into… But he wanted to find out.

“I don’t have to be up early.” Jimin leaned forward, reaching out for the smooth middle sized one. He stroked it gently, feeling it pulse and throb in his hand. “You can do it all to me.”

“Jimin—” Jin whined, baring his teeth against the clearly pleasurable feelings.

“Can you feel this? When I play with them?” Jimin asked, grabbing the other mid-sized tentacle and beginning to squeeze gently.

Jin nodded. “Yeah. It’s distant… Just a tease but I—God, it feels so nice.”

“Do they all—”

“I can feel from them all. Some are more sensitive.”

One of the tentacles with the suckers reached Jimin’s belly, moving in a lazy pattern over and up. Jimin wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or moan. The gentle suction tickled, but was so strangely erotic. He let go of one to place his hand over it, sliding his fingers up. “These ones are less slimy.”

“They’re not meant to go into tight places.”

Jimin whined at the thought, tensing his ass a little. He shifted, leaning back over Jin to press another kiss to his mouth. “Do you want me, Jin?”

“Yes.”

“Naked? Yours?”

Jin nodded, pressing another kiss to Jimin’s mouth.

“Take me.” Jimin whispered against his mouth.

As if waiting for the okay, all six of Jin’s tentacles shot out, wrapping around Jimin and flipping him onto his back on the bed. The two largest made quick work of his sweats, twisting and tearing them off to leave him naked and shivering in excitement. One slid over his chest, the suckers tightening and tickling over his nipples. A slick one wrapped around his achingly hard cock, sliding up and down it. Jimin moaned, tossing his head back. As he did the other slick one took advantage, sliding over his tongue and and forward until he gagged. He felt a pressure on his thigh and his eyes snapped open, surprised to see Jin kneeling. Jin forced Jimin’s thighs open, sliding his palms over the smooth skin of his legs. Jimin shuddered, feeling exposed, but so turned on. Another one of the suckered tentacles wrapped around Jimin’s leg, holding it open with ease. The first whiplike one shot forward and Jimin squealed around the tentacle in his mouth, feeling it’s cool, thin tip prod at his entrance.

It was small enough that it was barely a push when it slid in, but Jimin’s eyes rolled back in his head. It twitched and jerked inside him, searching for his prostate. When it found it, Jimin’s entire body tensed, his cock twitching in the grip of the other. Jin laughed a little, a high, joyful noise.

Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut. He began to suck at the tentacle in his mouth, letting it pump back and forth like a cock. The sticky fluid surrounding it was both sweet and bitter, sugary like honey but with the lightest undertones of burnt tea. The more he sucked, the slicker the tentacle seemed to become, dribbling over his tongue and down his throat, forcing him to swallow. At the same time, the tentacle in his ass seemed to swell, spreading him open further. He whined, looking down at Jin. He wanted to ask what was happening, but the one in his mouth gave him no chance. One of the suckered ones splayed over his chest, teasing his sensitive nipples as it rubbed gently.

Jin had his hand down the front of his pajamas, palming himself as he watched. The one wrapped around his cock let go, moving down and pushing into his ass, thrusting gently to relax the muscles. The final whiplike one shot out, curling around his cock and squeezing hard enough to make him whine. It let go then, and circled his tip with it’s own, teasingly gentle. Jimin watched with wide eyes as it opened like a flower and engulfed Jimin’s cock. The sensation was overwhelming. Warm and wet and unbearably tight, Jimin could see himself through the thin skin of the tentacle as it throbbed around him. He reached down, pressing at the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm, but Jin swatted his hand away playfully.

“Don’t stop your pleasure, Jimin,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

Jimin choked around the tentacle, shaking his head until it backed up and let him draw in a breath. “I don’t want to come too soon. I want to feel you – Make you feel good too.” His own voice came out thick and wet, like he was talking through a mouth of gum. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fluid he’d been swallowing.

Jin laughed then, crawling over Jimin. Jimin could see the tentacles coming from his back, surrounding them. “You think you’ll come once and be done? I warned you, Jimin… You didn’t know what you were getting into.”

Jimin swallowed hard. He licked his lips, tasting the fluid on them. “What am I getting into?”

“Humans… They’re so soft.” Jin slid his hand over Jimin’s stomach. “So easily exhausted and broken. My kind… We fuck for hours, Jimin. This is foreplay baby. So you can come. Enjoy it… Because I’m going to keep you coming. Until I can’t wring another drop out of your beautiful body and you’re full to brim with me.”

Jimin’s cock throbbed hard in the warmth of Jin’s tentacle. “Oh god…”

The tentacle prodded at Jimin’s bottom lip once more and Jin chuckled. “Keep drinking this like water and you’ll have a hard time resisting...” He warned. “It’s an aphrodisiac.”

Jimin met Jin’s gaze. He smirked and opened his mouth, leaning his head up to suck gently at the tip of the tentacle. He pulled off with a pop and wet his lips. “I don’t need an aphrodisiac to want to be fucked by you, Jin. I’m yours.” He leaned up, pressing a desperate kiss to Jin’s mouth. The thin tentacle inside Jimin swelled further, working open his tight rim. The other began to thrust deeply, driving in and twisting, prodding deeper than Jimin though possible. He threw his head back, shouting Jin’s name as he came. The tentacle sucking at his cock seemed to squeeze tighter, and Jimin’s eyes fluttered open in time to see his come ballooning it like a condom.

“Wh—” He tried to speak, pleasurable shudders wracking his body. His question was answered when the tentacle pulled off his cock and rose, brushing against Jin’s lips. He opened his mouth, letting his eyes slip shut as it dribbled Jimin’s come onto his tongue. He moaned happily and licked his lips as he swallowed, looking down at Jimin.

“You taste amazing.”

“That was… Fuck.” Jimin gasped when the tentacle in his ass drove deeper, throbbing. “Jesus!” He whined.

“You’re so much tighter up here,” Jin teased, reaching down to tickle his finger over the smooth skin above Jimin’s pubic mound. He grabbed Jimin’s hand and pressed it down on that spot. Jimin’s eyes widened. He could feel the steady throb of the tentacle deep within him. He whined. “It’s gonna hit my stomach if you keep going,” he worried. “Don’t worry… You’re totally safe. I won’t hurt you.” The tentacle throbbed again, and Jimin shuddered.

“I’m so full.”

“This is nothing.”

“Can I see you?” Jimin panted. “You still have pants on…” He reached out for Jin’s pajamas, only to have both wrists yanked away by tentacles. They pinned his arms to the bed, and Jin smirked.

“You like this. Being bound like that, don’t you?”

Jimin swallowed hard. His cock was already thickening against his thigh, there was no denying it. He nodded.

“We’ll keep you like that then. No need to use your hands when I can pleasure every where at once anyway, is there?”

The tentacle previously in Jimin’s mouth prodded his lips again. He opened eagerly, and it drove in, bumping the back of his throat. Jimin’s eyes welled with involuntary tears.

Jin leaned down, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Breathe through your nose. Slow and steady…” Jimin obeyed, letting his eyes slip shut.

“Now, swallow, and don’t panic.”

The tentacle flattened a bit, pushing deeper into Jimin’s throat. He gagged once, twice, and then swallowed, his heart skipping a beat when the tip slid into his throat.

Jin moaned desperately against his shoulder, shuddering. “That’s it… Keep sucking and swallowing… Fuck—” He hissed. The tentacle remained somewhat flattened, allowing Jimin to breathe. He wanted to gag, but forced the reflex back with steady swallowing, the smooth, silky fluid easing the way each time.

Jin shuddered and writhed over him, his breath coming in uneven, desperate pants. Jimin lifted his hand as much as the tightly gripped tentacle would allow, grabbing Jin’s hand and squeezing.

Jin met his gaze, smiling open-mouthed. “So perfect,” he whispered.

Jimin felt his own cock, once again hard, engulfed by the same tentacle as before, a steady, firm sucking feeling along the shaft. He rolled his eyes back, the sensations entirely overwhelming, and better than he’d ever imagined.

The tentacles up Jimin’s ass drove deeper, and the thicker one began to throb. Jimin squealed around the one in his throat, feeling a strange pressure deep inside. Jin’s eyes rolled back and he shuddered, panting Jimin’s name.

At the same time, the thin one swelled further, stretching Jimin near to the point of pain. Jimin felt every little twitch and throb, a rhythmic pattern the same as the one deep inside his body. Come, he realized absently. He was being filled with come, or whatever the equivalent was. He began to bob his head along the tentacle down his throat, swallowing rapidly. He felt it slip a little deeper and swell, cutting off his breathing for a moment before it relaxed. Jin buried his head in the crook of Jimin’s neck, whimpering and moaning softly.

Jimin struggled against the tentacles holding his wrists, sobbing desperately. One let go and Jimin grabbed the tentacle down his throat, stroking and squeezing the part nearest his mouth.

Jin screamed against his shoulder, his entire body shuddering. The tentacle swelled again, but when it relaxed Jimin felt the thick liquid filling his throat. He swallowed as quickly as he could, fearing suffocation if he didn’t. There was so much of it, pouring out as rapidly as he could swallow. The tentacle retreated, still spurting the thick, hot liquid. Jimin gripped it to keep it in his mouth, feeling it spray over his tongue. It was nearly the consistency of come, but had the same burnt tea and honey flavor as before. He couldn’t get enough. He sucked hard as he could, swallowing every few seconds. It was dribbling out of his mouth, tingling as it ran over his chin and neck.

The ones in Jimin’s ass continued to spurt as well, the thicker one using the released fluid to drive a bit deeper. Jimin’s stomach ached with a fullness he’d never felt before. His cock throbbed and twitched, balls clenched tight to his body as he neared a second orgasm.

Jin pulled back suddenly, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “It’s my turn,” he panted. Jimin’s ass clenched around the invading tentacles. He spread his legs open wider, allowing Jin to move back and settle between them.

As he did, the one in his throat pulled back completely, spraying one final rope onto his chest and stomach. Jimin looked down, his heart stuttering for a moment. He prided himself on how fit he was, his toned stomach the envy of many of the other dancers in his classes. But now it was rounded, swollen just above where the tentacle was pouring into him. The iridescent black spray of the tentacle painted it in splatters, giving it an obscene look.

Jimin looked up at Jin, panic crossing his face.

“Don’t worry,” Jin soothed, sliding his hands over Jimin’s hips. “It’s normal. And you look so good… Belly full of me… Haven’t even had my come yet.”

Jimin shuddered, his cock throbbing. “Please—” He rasped, throat thick and sticky.

“Oh I will, baby. You’re gonna come one more time before I do. I need you nice and relaxed. You did so good. Made them come so much. Now you come.” The tentacle around his cock picked up its pace, rubbing along his cock and squeezing. Jin leaned back, tugging his pajamas off for the first time.

Jimin’s eyes bulged. As promised, he was more than well endowed. His cock was thick and long, curving upward at an angle Jimin knew would hit his prostate dead on. Directly under that, hanging a little lower was a second cock. This one was far less human looking. It was an inch or two shorter, ending in a relatively severe looking blunted tip. The head was conical, with little ridges as it widened. The shaft itself started slender but thickened toward the base, bulging out right above the base of it. Along the top of this second cock were thick bands of ribbing, almost reptilian in nature. Under this second cock were Jin’s balls, smooth and even.

“Are you okay?” Jin whispered, clearly noticing Jimin’s stare.

Jimin looked up, licking his lips. “Only if you promise you’re gonna fuck me with both of them,” he whispered.

Jin’s eyes widened a little. “It’s a lot.”

“I can take it. You’ve stretched me so good,” he whined, squeezing around the tentacle still swollen inside him, though the spurts of come had tapered off. “I wanna take them.”

He reached out with his free hand. “Can I suck them?”

Jin nodded. The thicker tentacle shot out and grabbed Jimin’s wrist, and both yanked him upright, shifting the fluid inside him and making him cry out in pleasure-pain at the sensation. Jin used his hands and the tentacles, arranging Jimin on all fours. The thin one still worked at his cock, eager to milk another orgasm out of him, and the other two remained deep in his ass, working as a plug.

Jin guided Jimin’s head down to his cocks, shivering when Jimin licked the head of the bottom one. It was rougher than a human’s, and the opening was on the underside of it.

Jin groaned. “Suck on it, baby… Come on, just like before. Suck it,” he whispered. Jimin opened his mouth obediently, letting Jin push his head down slowly. The cock filled his mouth, quickly, the swollen bulb at the bottom too big to slip past his teeth. He tucked his lips carefully when Jin hissed, tugging his hair. “Be gentle, sweetheart…”

Jimin began to bob his head in apology, moaning around him. The ridges felt foreign to his tongue, hard and solid with a thin softness of skin. He squeaked in surprise when he felt the tentacle from his mouth prod at his ass.

Jin chuckled breathlessly when Jimin pushed his ass back. He leaned over Jimin, spreading his ass. “You love it,” he panted. “Love them up your ass.”

Jimin whined and nodded, bobbing his head faster.

“Let it in then. Take the third one for me, lemme feel how loose you are for my cocks,”

Jimin pushed back against the invading tentacle, squealing when it slipped in between the other two. He shuddered as it rubbed over his prostate, snaking its way through him to join the other deep inside.

Jin tugged his hair. “That’s it, take them for me. So pretty opened up like this. Come on, suck the other one for me.” He pulled a little more forcefully, making Jimin’s stomach knot in pleasure. He pulled off Jin’s cock with a pop, panting and letting his mouth hang open. He looked up at Jin, smirking as well as he could. “If you like my ass open for you, what about my mouth? Do I look good filled from both ends, Jin?”

“Fuck—” Jin swore softly.

Jimin opened his mouth wider, letting his tongue hang out. Jin moved forward. He drove the human-like cock into Jimin’s mouth until it bumped the back of his throat. Jimin gagged hard, but leaned forward, eager for more. Jin’s fingers remained buried in his hair as he began to pump his hips, moaning low and deep in his throat. Jimin sagged on the bed, held up only by the tentacles inside him and wrapped around his middle and Jin’s firm grip on his head. The weight of the fluid deep in his guts was an unnatural, arousing pressure each time he moved. Every secret kink, ones he didn’t even know he had, Jin was hitting them all. His entire body was overstimulated but eager for more, buzzing with excitement. His cock was throbbing in the sheath of Jin’s tentacle, the others edging him closer and closer. And this wasn’t even sex for Jin’s kind. The idea sent a shiver through his entire body. He was in heaven and the night wasn’t even over. Jin’s cock nudged the back of his throat again, making him gag hard. He moaned brokenly when Jin pulled his cock free, only to replace it with the other. This one slid deeper, easily nudging further into his aching throat.

His orgasm took him by surprise this time. He screamed around Jin’s cock, shuddering as he spilled into the tentacle surrounding him. Jin pulled back, holding Jimin’s head up to watch his face as he shuddered and jerked through his orgasm.

“What a good boy,” Jin purred, making Jimin smile tired.

“Is it my turn to get fucked?” he mumbled.

“Oh yeah. Gonna fuck you good now, baby. You still want both my cocks?”

Jimin nodded. He made a small noise of surprise when he was lifted from the bed by the tentacles and flipped onto his back. The two suckered ones held his legs up to his chest and open, tilting his hips up.

“Relax. Wanna make sure you don’t lose a drop until I’m all done with you,” Jin instructed. The tentacles began to pull out one by one, leaving Jimin whimpering and empty. When the final deflated and pulled out, he whined. Jin sighed softly, smiling down at Jimin as he gazed over his body.

“You are so beautiful.” He dipped two fingers into Jimin’s ass easily, withdrawing them with a rope of the dark fluid. “And so wet for me. Relax, okay?”

Jimin nodded. Jin settled on his knees and began to bring Jimin down toward him. The tip of the first bumped against his hole and slid in with an embarrassing ease. Jin chuckled. “Now the fun part. He shifted Jimin, the tentacles still holding his legs open. Jin guided his second cock under the first and began to push.

“Breathe,” He instructed Jimin. Jimin nodded, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. The pressure was intense as Jin worked his way in, but not unbearable. Slow and steady, the cocks nudged forward together. Jimin whined and shifted, trying his best to help. He felt so full – even with the three tentacles in him prior and the weight in his stomach, nothing compared to Jin’s cocks pushing into him for the first time.

“Now the hard part,” Jin panted. Jimin could feel the swell of the second cock pushing against him.

“I want it,” Jimin whispered. “Put it in me… Make me all yours, please… Kiss me?”

Jin leaned down, catching Jimin’s mouth in a deep kiss. He pulled back and drove in over and over, working the thickest part in bit by bit. When Jimin’s ass opened to take it, letting Jin push in until their hips were together, they both moaned.

Jimin wrapped his arms around Jin’s shoulders, looking up at him. “So good… So big,” he whined.

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, you know,” Jin teased. Jimin giggled, wiggling against his lap.

“You have. Nobody could make me feel as full as you.. Please… Soulmate… Take me.”

Jin lowered his head into another gentle kiss. He began to thrust gently at first, letting Jimin get used to the tug of the swell on his cocks. But as Jimin whined for more he picked up speed, seeming to sense exactly what he needed. The tentacles on Jimin’s legs released, allowing him to wrap his legs around Jin’s hips as he drove into him.

Jimin’s cock ached, hardening again despite the painful throb in his oversensitive balls. He reached up, touching the gently bobbing tentacles. Jin shivered.

“One of these days,” he panted as he fucked into Jimin, “I’ll use you with all of them at once.”

Jimin whined, his ass clenching down hard enough that Jin groaned.

“You’d love that,” Jin teased. “Being opened up on all of me. Feeling every single one fill you so full you look swollen. Really make you feel what it’s like to fuck a monster in your closet.”

Jimin screamed Jin’s name as he came untouched, his cock dribbling weakly despite the intensity of the orgasm. He clamped down on Jin’s cocks, earning a hiss.

“Fuck… God, Jimin—”

Jin drove deep and went still. His cocks throbbed and twitched, balls squeezing rhythmically against Jimin’s ass as he came. Jimin’s eyes rolled back before shutting, a small smile on his face. Even as his orgasm faded, Jin was shuddering through his, adding more to the small swell in his stomach. Jimin laid quietly, stroking Jin’s back and clamping around his cocks as he worked him through his orgasm.

When it faded, Jin sagged on his arms, groaning tiredly. Jimin giggled. “Wow.”

“Did I hurt you? Jin worried.

“I’m going to be sore as fuck tomorrow… But not even a little. I loved it… I .. I love you. I know we just met and that’s weird for you but… Soulmates are…”

“I know,” Jin hushed Jimin with a kiss. “I feel it too.”

Jin glanced down at their bodies. His tentacles slowly and lazily retreated, leaving his back bare and smooth to Jimin’s touch. Jimin glanced down, his cheeks pinking up at the way his stomach still was still rounded. He touched it lightly.

“I’m going to be a mess when you pull out.”

“Understatement… I can try to get you to the bathroom.”

“Not a chance… I can already feel it leaking out. I swear you dumped two gallons into me.” Jimin giggled a little. “Is sex always going to be like that?”

“No, not always. I can have sex like… I guess like a human would, only let one of my dicks extend, keep the tentacles away. I still come a lot, I can’t help that, but it’d be far less.”

“Well, that’s good to know… But I like this way too. Even if it is a mess.”

Jin shifted and lifted himself off Jimin gently. As soon as he pulled out, Jimin groaned, a flood of fluids following his exit. His cheeks pinked up. “Oh God, I’m so embarrassed.”

Jin laughed a little. “Why?” He stood and scooped Jimin up easily in his arms, nuzzling his cheek.

“I’m a mess.”

“I made you a mess. And you’re beautiful. Especially for my kind… Sign of a great night. Come on, lemme take care of you.”

Jin walked to the bathroom, still carrying Jimin bridal style. He laid him in the tub and turned on the water, digging around a moment for a wash cloth. “Give me one second.” He hurried out of the bathroom, leaving Jimin staring after him.

He leaned back in the tub, letting the warm water fill it and relax his muscles. He closed his eyes, his mind replaying the highlights of the evening. The way Jin’s lips felt on his own, the looks they shared, the smiles and soft noises Jin gave during his pleasure. A smile crept across Jimin’s face. He had a soulmate. A demigod soulmate. Sure, a monster, technically – But there was nothing monstrous about Jin.

Jimin glanced over when Jin entered the bathroom again, now wearing his pajama bottoms. He was carrying a clean pair of sweats for Jimin. “I changed the sheets and threw the others in your wash.”

“You certainly know your way around my apartment,” Jimin said. Jin knelt and grabbed the washcloth, turning off the water and soaping it up before beginning to wash Jimin carefully.

“I’m the monster in your closet. I’ve been watching you for months. I know everything about this place.”

“That’s comforting, in a way. You know all my bad habits and quirks… No nasty surprises.”

“Nothing nasty about you.”

“Can I ask a sensitive question, Jin?”

Jin nodded, shifting to the edge of the tub and reaching in to gently wash the tender skin of Jimin’s ass as well as he could.

“You’re a demigod, and a monster – Are you… Old?”

“I’m twenty-eight. I age the same as you do,” Jin said. “Fair question. But we all age.”

“So… Growing old together…”

“Entirely something that can happen.”

Jimin smiled softly at that. Jin pulled him forward, washing over Jimin’s back.

“Where do the tentacles go?” Jimin asked suddenly.

“They retreat into my skin. Become just a part of musculature. I can feel them there all the time, and extend them at any time.”

“Same with your other dick? You mentioned retracting one.”

“Yes. The snake anatomy. I can use one or both. I tend to go with the more human looking one just because it fits this form better.”

Jimin nodded. When Jin determined he was clean, he opened the drain and helped Jimin stand, toweling him off.

“You’re being so sweet.”

“You’re my soulmate. And just gave me an amazing night. It’s the least I can do.” Jin paused, his brows furrowed. “I can’t believe I have a soulmate.”

“Is that something monsters and demi-gods don’t have?”

“No. I’ve never heard of it,” Jin admitted. “I didn’t even think we had a soul.”

Jimin reached out, grabbing Jin’s hand. “You do. You’re too kind not to. You share my soul.”

Jin smiled softly, squeezing Jimin’s hand. “I couldn’t have asked for a better person to share it with… Let’s get you to bed.”

Jimin let Jin lead him back to the bedroom, their fingers still twined.

They crawled in, and Jimin settled into the crook of Jin’s arm, resting his head on his shoulder.

“This feels nice,” Jin mumbled contentedly.

“Is it odd for you to be in this form? Human with legs?”

“No, this is the one I prefer. When I’m in my Naga form, my tail tends to get in the way.”

“Do you sleep like humans?”

“Opposite schedules usually – since I’m up scaring sleeping humans most of the time. But this is far preferable.”

Jimin giggled. “I wanna stay up and talk to you all night,” he admitted. “Learn everything about you.”

“We have more than just the night. You need your rest, especially after our activities. I’ll be here in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Jimin closed his eyes, listening to the steady thump of Jin’s heartbeat. He’d found him. He found his soulmate. After all these years. It wasn’t the person he’d expected, sure, and they’d have some learning to do, but they were finally together. And Jimin had never been happier.

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sunsetsover · 5 years

Note

Thoughts on Callum slowly discovering the freedom of being able to initiate physical contact with Ben (in private initially) and the comfort he finds in it? Like coming home and finding Ben there, lying on the couch and he realises he can just lie down, with his head on Ben's chest, if he wants.

please this is so sweet to even think about i’m so soft….. i could probably ramble abt this forever but let me try and be coherent

callum is very tactile. it’s something he’s always kind of known about himself, despite never really being in a place where he experienced much physical affection - not at home, not at school, certainly not in the army. he hadn’t even really had a proper relationship before whitney, so by the time he’d met her he felt kind of awkward about the whole thing. he didn’t really know how to touch anyone, especially not a woman. he didn’t know how to be touched.

and yes, him and whitney were physically affectionate, and it was nice. but it also always felt a little bit off, somehow. like a picture on a wall that’s not quite hung straight. a shirt that doesn’t quite fit you properly.

so by the time ben comes along, callum is massively, massively touch starved - and he doesn’t even realize it, is the thing, because he has whitney. because she gives him everything he needs. or at least that’s what he’s convinced himself.

but then ben touched him that night in the park - and it was barely even a touch, truth be told - but it was enough to have every wall callum had ever built around That part of him turn to sand, rendering them completely useless. it was enough to have him craving. to have him suddenly realizing what it is that he’s been missing.

and there was a long and messy road between then and now - now, where they’ve been dating for a few months, where everything is good and steady between them, where every touch still sets callum’s skin alight.

but the thing is, callum can tell ben is holding back - not because he wants to, but for callum’s benefit. he’s said all along that it’s up to him to dictate the pace of their relationship, including the physical aspects of it. which is something callum has been incredibly thankful for, but…. he’s starting to feel antsy now. because ben touches him (when they’re alone and in private, because callum still isn’t ready for PDA yet) but it’s almost always light and fleeting and cautious - like he’s trying not to overwhelm callum. which was nice at first, but now it’s starting to drive him mad.

and callum isn’t exactly sure what to do about it. it’s not like he can sit ben down and go ‘i really appreciate you being considerate, but i’d really like it if you could stop tiptoeing around me now’, is it? (i mean he could, but as if he ever would lmao)

so he thinks about it. he thinks about it a lot. and then he comes to the realization that he doesn’t necessarily need to wait for ben to be the one to initiate it. he can initiate it himself. he can touch ben, if he wants to. he can touch his boyfriend; can hold his hand and stroke his hair and pull him into a hug just because.

problem is, that’s a lot easier said than done.

for a little while, callum just kind of hopes that ben will just Know somehow. that he’ll figure it out. which ofc is silly and unrealistic and callum quickly realizes once again that if he wants anything to change between them, he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands (literally)

and he overthinks it at first and tries to like… plan it out. as though that’s how it works. as if holding your boyfriend’s hand is something you plan out ahead of time.

but eventually he manages to scrape together enough courage to just kinda…. stroke the tips of his fingers along the back of ben’s hand one day when they’re sat together at home. thankfully ben cottons on pretty quickly and turns his hand over, but he doesn’t do anything more than that - just holding out his hand for callum to take, if he wants to. it’s on him, still. so callum presses their palms together and links their fingers and ben smiles at him and pulls their joined hands into his lap. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. callum’s glad.

after that, callum is a little emboldened. it’s still hard for him, but he starts taking ben’s hand without asking for permission, or running his hands through ben’s hair as he listens to him talk, or putting his arm around ben’s shoulders while they’re sat together on the couch.

(which is something that ben particularly likes, because he kinda likes feeling small next to callum (though he’d die before he’d ever admit it), and after it has become almost a habit for them, ben starts leaning back into him, yknow? allowing himself to be held. and one night in particular callum does it and ben kinda half turns and presses his back into callum’s chest. by the end of the evening they’re full on cuddling, ben in between callum’s legs with his arms wrapped around his waist, and it’s so warm and safe and callum has never get more content in his life. the solid feeling of ben’s masculine body pressed against him - holding him - fills him with something he’s never experienced before in his life; something he can’t quite put words to, but it’s good, whatever it is.)

it gets easier after that. ben seems to realize, too, that callum isn’t gonna spook every time he tries to touch him, so he stops holding himself back as much - he’s mindful still, but he also stops tiptoeing around callum so much, which is exactly what he had wanted (and it turns out he is just as touchy as callum is lmao). and it makes callum feel better u know! more confident! knowing he’s not alone in this. knowing ben wants to touch him just as much.

and it’s when he sees ben lying on the couch, fiddling with the tv remote that he gets hit with this overwhelming surge of just… happiness. knowing he can go over and touch ben if he wants to. that he doesn’t have to hide it anymore, he doesn’t have to bury it, pretend he doesn’t want it.

so that’s exactly what he does - walks over to the couch and lays himself down on top of ben, presses his ear into his chest and listens to his heart beating. one of ben’s hands comes to settle between his shoulder blades, thumb absentmindedly rubbing at his skin through his shirt as he continues looking for something to watch. once he’s found something that satisfies him, ben drops the remote and brings his other arm around callum, presses a kiss to the top of his head, shifts callum’s weight between his hips slightly and settles in.

callum has to close his eyes for a moment and take a breath just so he can take it all in. thanks his lucky stars that he has this, because he never thought he would. he never thought he’d get here. and he’s so fucking glad he is.

💞💞💞

#ballum #eastenders #itsonlysound #question #i was gonna do public affection too but this is long enough as it is lmao :-(#headcanon

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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years

Text

Occupational Hazards

Barry Berkman x Reader

Three part series: It was just another job, he doesn't even had to kill anyone, but the way she looked at him was more dangerous than the bullets.

Part I Part II Part III

Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: Violence, cursing, blood, mention of abortion, stalkers.

Part III

"Someone got lucky" Natalie said when Barry entered his apartment, she was helping Nick with his lines for an audition and since the first pictures of his relationship with Y/N had emerged she always find an excuse to be near him and ask a million annoying questions "Although is kind of tacky to come to home with the same clothes from yesterday"

"No comment" That usually make her keep her distance but since he took forever to pour himself a coffee she followed him to the kitchen.

"So we were watching the nominations this morning, anything interesting to talk about it?" Somehow even when his job consisted in sell the lie he didn't felt comfortable talking about Y/N with his friends, and specially not that morning. He gave her a deadly glare and just walk inside his room.

Barry left the untouched coffee on his desk and collapsed on his bed, he wasn't tired, and the ideas revolving in his mind would keep him up for long enough.

They have watch several romantic comedies with wine and popcorn and then when they were discussing how impractical and unrealistic they were she apologized to him for the permanent damage that the article would cause in his attempts to get back to Sally, it wasn't strange since they have come to know about each other's past over the weeks, the strange part was that he was not actually concern about it. Sally had become a simple friend and he was sure even had to talk to him more often since Y/N came into his life, but he didn't had romantic feelings towards her anymore.

However the sudden realization that those feelings were gone because of the woman that was curled next to him, screaming at Cameron Diaz to run away from her idiot fiance; made him feel uneasy, he would have prefer to leave, but she was obviously anxious about the nominations the next morning so he agreed to take the couch, but she since she couldn't sleep they open another bottle of wine and start asking questions about each other.

He got to learn that the B&H menthol were her favorite cigarettes, but she was trying to quit and she actually only have one or two every couple weeks when she was to nervous, and he make himself a mental note to buy a package just in case. He told her about his favorite music, and a thing or two about her days in Afganistan, she told her how her mom was dying and her money was not to save her just to help her live her last days in least pain.

She asked about the most terrible thing he ever did and when he couldn't answer she went first.

"Do you want to know the real reason I broke up with Richard?" She said suddenly completely serious.

"You don't have to do that Y/N..."

"I want to, I feel like you have this weight on you and that you think of yourself as a monster, so do I. I may not be the trash human everyone think I am but that doesn't excuse what I have done. I have always hhave friends many friends men and women, and I even like some of them, that doesn't mean I sleep with them but for Richard every men I even talked to was someone I was fucking behind his back" She took one large drink of wine, it was clearly a painful memory "The thing I actually loved him, and I actually saw myself sharing my life with him, he was my agent back then and I could look over her rudeness most of the time... but then I got pregnant" She gave him a sad smile and he could see where the story was going so he remained silent even when he wanted to hold her. "He obviously didn't believe it could be his, and ask me to take care of it, or my life and my career and my mother treatment would be over so I did it. And don't get me wrong I know now that it was the right choice, believing I could have a family with that pig is ridiculous, but it wasn't my choice at the time and I don't know after that I just had to run away from him, I actually sleep with my costar, that's number 3 and use the scandal to break things with Richard, and now I'm here"

He hold her close to him and not thinking he started telling her about Korengal, about Moss and about Mayrbeck, she was comfortable to hold on to, she simply nodded and asked an occasional question about the time those things happened but she didn't judge him, and he eventually closed his own eyes and pretend for a moment that she was not paying him, that there was actually one human being who would love him not only despite his past, but also because of it. Someone who would feel safe enough with him, that she could sleep like that. He wanted to tell her that Sally was nice but she would never accept his truth, and she was like a getaway car, she had been the illusion to be Barry Block and leaving all behind, but her... Y/N came looking for Barry Berkman and she wasn't scared of him, but he also couldn't say it because he knew once things were over she would go back to his life and his little bubble will pop.

And that day was closer than ever, she was nominated as Outstanding supporting actress in a limited series or TV movie, and as she had said she had absolutely no chance to win because Maverick wouldn't let her, but the amount of opportunities that would come after if she get nominated would be enough to find a new agent, and walk away from that life, so she had been waiting to hear her name for months and now that it was finally there the look on her face was enough to turn down all of his precautions and he simply kiss her.

He take her by the neck in the middle of her excitement and simply put his lips onto hers and kiss her like she was the only thing he needed to survive, and he was only recovering his common sense when Y/N hold him tighter and kissed him back with the same intensity, he was happy beyond comprehension but reality find its way to his mind and eventually he let go. Y/N opened her mouth to say something but her phone start ringing with congratulations from her friends and that allowed them to have a minute to settle down.

"Don't worry about the suit, they are probably going to offer you one" She said to him finally after answering the phone the third time.

"Yeah sure, I am so happy for you. Congratulations" He was being honest, but he needed to acknowledge the kiss somehow "I'm so sorry I shouldn't..." for some reason apologizing for something he was not sorry for is what he did.

"Please don't apologize, it was nice, is being a long time since someone kissed me like that, say it was the heat of the moment, or that you simply felt like it, but don't be sorry about it because I'm not" The look she gave him, that's when he knew he was doomed, she wanted him, for how long? who could tell, but he was much of a coward to find out, so he make up an excuse and didn't even touch her when he said goodbye, and just walked away.

Fortunately the next weeks past in a blur, a couple days later their Variety interview was the subject of an angry call from Sally for not telling her, and endless banter and teasing from his classmates wich lead to shaming him into bet on her in Jermaine Emmy's pool.

He had tell the story of how they met more times than he could remember, and there was little to no time to be alone with her, other than the choreographed PDA they had agreed beforehand, and she even had to leave for two weeks to New York for another set of endless interviews, on wich she made sure to get his name out at least once, he watched them and pretend that he was the actual loving boyfriend waiting for her return even when his mind kept reminding him he was not.

He had told her everything and she didn't judge him, and his heart was holding the hope that maybe, just maybe in the end she could be a friend since he felt undeserving of something else, and by the time he was at her place waiting for her to go to the ceremony he had already promised himself he would be there for her no matter what.

The award ceremony was magic in itself, walking next to her on the red carpet and watching her like the star she was in the elegant black gown she had chosen was more than enough for him, but there were also a lot of famous people who surprisingly treated him as if he belonged, and in the middle of that crowd he could finally found a moment of intimacy with her on the way she nervously hold his hand whenever Richard looked their way and when he got upstaged to introduce the Award Y/N was nominated in, he was attractive and charismatic but the smug on the bastard face when he read her name on the nominations and then when he finally said the winner (Zoe Saldana or someone like that) were enough to make his blood boil and mentally mark a bullet with his name on it.

***

"I just lose 300 grand" He whispered in your ear and you could smell a hint of perfume, it was perfect.

"Well next time bet against me, and listen to me when I talk" you fixed his bow tie as an excuse to touch him, he looked unrealistically hot, the tux the hair, even the incipient beard that had started to grow look fantastic on him. "I hate after parties, but Adrian says we should make an appearance and then we can get out of there"

He nodded and you could feel him trembling under your hands, he had been weird since the kiss and you can understand why, but you wanted to reassure him that you didn't give a fuck about his past, that Block or Berkman or whatever you only cared for Barry, that there was something in him that make you feel happy, that he calling out your bullshit was something you needed and that that kiss was the single most happy moment you ever had.

They drove you to the after party and you allowed the crowd to separate you from him while you mapped out in your mind how to talk to him on the way home, and then you felt it, the stench of bourbon and cigars, and a big hand pulling from her arm with strength, you paralyzed for a moment and the promise you had made yourself to kick his nuts the way Barry teach you fly away when he got in the middle of your conversation with a Mexican Director famous for not giving a crap about Hollywood who had a project on Netflix.

"Oh please don't let this man drag you tho those movies actual cinema is here in Hollywood, not paying monthly to watch on your leaving room" He smiled like a hyena and you desperately try to avoid him, but pull you closer and Alfonso simply gave you his card discreetly and walked away. "Quite the spectacle you have put on with the little soldier" he said letting go of your arm, but still blocking your way with his body. "Too bad is about to be over."

"Oh I was not aware you have a saying in when or for how long I am with someone" you spat at him desperately looking for someone to come closer so you could make an escape, but your heart broke when you saw Barry talking happily with whom you assume was his Sally Reed, and you felt alone and defeated and he must have seen that in your eyes because his poisonous tongue kept talking.

"He is good looking I give you that" he said looking in his direction and then back at you holding your chin and you fight with all your strength to not cry right there "But he is just a looser from Ohio, who was caught in the middle of all this glamour" he made a round movement with his hand and then pointed at you "And you are a drinking, smoking whore, you are not going to be the respectable wife of a soldier and retire to live in the suburban house with the white fence. Wake up from your dream Y/N, you need to be with a men who knows how to treat you and how to please you" His hand was on your waist and you felt disgusted by his touch and you cursed yourself for not screaming then and there to fuck off "Tell me little one, does your soldier know how to make you scream? Or does he bore you to death in bed" He was drunk it was obvious and you could feel his breath approaching you and could anticipate his movement, he was going to kiss you.

"Well I haven't recieved complaints" Barry's voice take you out of your trance state and you move away from Richard, he had put his hand on his shoulder and was pressing him steadily in his place, he was way taller and Richard almost look funny next to him "But we hardly ever make it to the bed do we babe?" He possessively take you by the waist and pull you away from him straight to his lips and kissed you voraciously, something that people around you actually notice because you could hear a couple of whistles.

"Are you okay?" He whispered quiet enough so only you could hear and you nodded yes "Such a pleasure to meet you finally, Barry Berkman" He offered his hand and Richard took it trying to put out his charm again.

"The famous Barry, so you are the man taking away our beautiful Y/N to make her a decent woman" He teased you again. You were no longer shaking and Barry's presence gave you courage.

"I think is the other way around" You search inside his jacket for a pack of cigarettes you saw him put there earlier an took one to your mouth "I'm trying to make this beautiful man and indecent creature" Barry quickly offered you fire and then he looked to Richard who was obviously angry at him.

"And you are succeeding honey, anyway I'm going to have to take her away for good, bye Richard" He didn't give him a chance to respond and you were already walking towards Sally, she was there as the plus one of her costar in Richard's movie and she was a lovely person, who only wanted to reassure you she and Barry were done, offered you her friendship and asking for acting advice.

"You want to get out of here?" You said once you have talked to almost everyone but this time Barry make sure to not leave your side in case Maverick come close again.

You walked outside and the car was waiting for you, and different from other times he didn't let your hand go once you were inside, instead he put his arm around you and hold you closer to him.

"I'm so sorry, I paralyzed, I was freaking out and I didn't pushing away, I feel so ashamed" you started speaking against his chest with tears finally coming from your eyes.

"Hey there, it's okay" He patted your back and kissed the top of your head, his voice was calming like a balm taking away the pain "That guy is a jerk, at least he is getting the point now, you were right. What kind of asswhole needs to see a woman with another man in order to understand she doesn't want him?"

"We hardly make it to the bed?" You said smiling "I liked that one, the look on his face"

"I couldn't think anything else, was it too much?" He clearly was nervous about kissing you but this time you were not letting him go so easily.

"Maybe, would you consider this too much?" You pull his face down to kiss him but he didn't move, he kissed you back, not as theatrical as before and his lips felt soft on yours and you could feel his hand on your neck holding you close to him and the other caressing your hair, it felt like pure electricity and little by little he started pushing his tongue inside of yours, and you were surprised by the dominant way he kissed you and the tender way he was holding you.

You were interrupted once the driver announced you were home and once you were inside you could see him burying his hands in his pockets like he didn't know what to do with them.

"We shouldn't" He said finally but his eyes meant something else "I mean I'm still working for you"

"And you say you were no prostitute" you smile at him, using him as support so you could take off your heels and tossed them somewhere in the living room "Are you coming or not?" You take his hand and point to the staircase with your head.

"Yes ma'am" he answered with a grin a followed you upstairs leaving tender kisses in your bare shoulders.

***

Barry wake up with her naked body still wrapped around him, her dress that had been almost impossible to take off was in the floor in some corner and he went to put on his boxers so he could get downstairs, it was 7:00 am and he wanted to make her breakfast, even if he couldn't figure out his way in the kitchen, but he chose to take a leak first.

He was walking out of the bathroom, with the memories of the previous night burning in the back of his head and then he listened it, the familiar sound of a gun going off and he panicked, because it wasn't in his hands, and then a stinging pain in his shoulder, an actual relief because whoever was shooting didn't knew what their were doing, he collapsed on his back next to de bed and hit his head making all blurry but he was listening.

The noise wake Y/N and Barry could hear her scream when she saw him bleeding, and his mind was only thinking in fighting back, then the lights turned on and he could see her, the figure shaking at the door holding the gun.

"Why? Why did you had to choose him?" Adrian's voice had a high pitch on it "I was the one supposed to comfort you, and to hold your hand last night Y/N!!!" She shot at her but thankfully she was terrible and she missed, barry didn't move waiting for a moment to reach for one of the guns he had hide in her room months ago, begging to not bleed out before he could.

"Leave that alone for once" Maverick voice said from the door "And you get dress" He tossed a night gown to Y/N that was covering herself with a bedsheet, he hit Adrian on the face making her fall to the ground and took the gun away from her hands.

"What the fuck Richard?" Y/N scream at him, and she put on the gown "What the fuck are you doing in my house" She attempt to run towards Barry but he stopped her.

"Oh I wouldn't do that sugar" He sounded drunk or something else, but he had enough coordination to hold the gun better than Adrian that now was a crying mess in a corner. "Sit here and don't move" He forced her to sit on the bed and went to were Barry was trying o stand with a hand holding on the bed. "Come on soldier sit with your whore"

"Adrian why did you do this?" Y/N was talking to the young girl, but she couldn't even look at them she was curled in the floor sobbing and holding herself. "I cared for you, you were like my sister, I loved you"

"Oh, did you hear that?" Richard laughed and went to pick Adrian by the hair and forced her to look at Y/N "A sister, but that's not what you wanted right? You'll see Y/N this lady here found something interesting about your prince charming here, and out of her so called love for you she came to me to help her solve your problem, tell me sweetheart have this man told you why did he came home from the war? He is a fucking murderer." His words sound poisonous and Y/N look shocked, but Barry new it was more about how he got that information than the actual fact that Barry had killed someone.

"What do you want Richard?" She said and her voice was soft, she even move apart from Barry in what he hoped was pretend disgust "What are you talking about?"

"This guy you chose killed an innocent man and walked away with it, and your lovely friend here was so worry about you that last night she was too drunk to shut up, so this morning she convinced me to came here and help her get you to safety, but oh no, we are too late" he started pacing around the room making an fake distressed face, and he ignored Barry for a moment "When I got here he had already snapped, he killed your friend..." He pointed the gun to Adrian's head an ignored Y/N pleas and simply killed her "And then I have trouble imagining what could have happened" He had a sadistic grin and took Y/N by the hair and force her to kiss him. "What do you think? He killed himself when he saw what he did?" He pointed his gun at Barry's head who was looking down with his hands behind his back "Or the coward shot you before he killed himself?" He caressed her face with the smoking gun and enjoyed the terror in her face "What is it going to be dear?" He said trying to force another kiss on her.

"Maybe think better asswhole" Barry said and out of nowhere he took the gun frrom his hand an shot him in the head under the scared face of Y/N and even when he was relieved he had saved her he could assume he had lost her forever.

***

The official version was that Richard was high on many different substances, he broke into your house and tried to kill you but Barry took that bullet and then when Adrian tried to calm him down he killed her and out of fear and his agitated mental state he end up blowing up his brains.

There was no reason to disbelief you, he had make a scene at the party the previous night when you left and the gun was registered, and in his house they found footage of your apartment entrance and some pictures taken from the front building as Barry had suspected.

After some harsh couple of months and a very well elaborated lie things were settled down and you even were about to start working on a new independent film.

Everything was perfect but you still missed him, you haven't been able to manage the initial shock and he interpreted as you being too disgusted by his lifestyle and he choose to go back to his anonymous life, to his acting class and being Barry Block, even when press won't leave him alone for days.

A year passed in a blur and you felt hurt that he didn't called you, and you were too proud to look for him, and suddenly one day, Sally walked in for a table read for the movie, and after it was over, and after impressing everyone there including you she timidly approach.

"Hi, I don't want to be awful, but do you remember meeting me?" She said and it take you by surprise the humility she showed.

"Sure you were Barry's friend right?" You said hiding the pain his name produced in your heart.

"Oh my god you remember that's so sweet of you, I just wanted to say how glad I am to work with you, you are such an inspiration" She seemed sincere but you wanted to run away from everything that could remained you of him "And I'm sorry it didn't work out for you guys, I mean he is still obviously in love with you, but he is such a non violent guy that I get why he walked away, but you are a fighter and I just wanted to say I respect you so much"

You smiled and change the subject, and praise her acting buying you enough time to process her words and a glimpse of hope start shining, maybe it was not all lost.

***

"I'm lady Macbeth, again" Natalie's voice was proud of herself, this was the third time they were doing the Shakespearean night but this time he hadn't get Macbeth like the previous year but Benedick in a scene from Much ado about nothing, a comedy since Gene thought he needed to experiment more with that genre, and he had cast Saha as Beatrice, but she didn't have the slightest interest since he had actually given her a second role as Helena in Midsummer.

By the time he was ready to come out in scene and declare his love for Beatrice the woman looking against him was clearly not Sasha but he could have known her figure in any place and so he went and started talking not sure of what to expect.

BENEDICK: I do love nothing in the world so well as you; is not that strange?

BEATRICE: As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not;

I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.

BENEDICK: By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.

BEATRICE: Do not swear, and eat it.

BENEDICK: I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat it that says I love not you.

BEATRICE: Will you not eat your word?

BENEDICK: With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee.

BEATRICE: Why, then, God forgive me!

BENEDICK: What offence, sweet Beatrice?

BEATRICE: You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to protest I loved you.

BENEDICK: And do it with all thy heart.

BEATRICE: I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.

BENEDICK: Come, bid me do any thing for thee.

BEATRICE: Kill Claudio.

The last line resonated in his mind for a moment, but she turned to the audience to make a bow and so did he happy to receive the applause, and she went to take his hand on hers and take one more bow before leaving the stage to Natalie.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her once they were apart from everyone.

"Playing Beatrice, Gene is an old friend of mine, I'm surprised he didn't told you, he loves to name drop, I asked him if I could read for this, I do miss theater you know?" She said finding a chair to sit on, the costume looked beautiful on her.

"That's not what I meant" He started keeping his distance.

"You never called, I went to pick you from the hospital and you leave before I got there, you avoid my calls..." Y/N was holding her hands together nervously. "

"I didn't think I should be around you, and Richard was no longer a threat" he said giving in and sitting next to her. "I do my job and walk away, that's how it works".

"Don't call it a work you didn't get paid" She said hurt by his words and he regretted immediately "We both know it wasn't that anymore that night... Barry I would not give you the crappy speech of how much I love you, but I do, I love you, with all the shitty parts that come along with you, if anything I love you more about those, am sorry I freaked out at the moment but I was sure he was going to kill you, I wasn't scared for me nor of you, for you plenty"

He remained silent for a moment and then he finally stood up, and for a moment she thought he would walk away, but he didn't.

"Do you want to get coffee?" He asked simply.

"Will you hold the mug like a normal person?" She joked.

"I'll ask for a paper cup with no handle if it's better" he said extending his hand to her. "And for what is worth, I love you too"

She took his hand and walked with him into the night, but he couldn't feel the darkness anymore, and the future looked bright for once.

The end

I liked this a lot, I hope you enjoy it

#barry berkman edit #barry berkman x reader #barry block #barry hbo #barry berkman #barry berkman x you #barry berkman fanfiction #bill hader #gene cousineau #monroe fuches #sally reed

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stellalux-universe · 5 years

Text

Starry Eyes

It's rare that Tommy and Nikki get the whole apartment to themselves, no Vince, no parties, no typical rockstar shit. Just them and Nikki plans to take full advantage of that all night long.

I'm terrible at summaries guys, seriously.

This is dedicated to the lovely @the--blackdahlia, who may have mentioned something about wanting a fic where Nikki just took his time taking Tommy apart all night so long ago that she probably doesn't even remember mentioning it ~I'm sorry, it takes me forever to write anything!~

Anyway, I decided to make this a follow up to Piece of Your Action so this is set in that same universe but you don't have to read one to understand the other.

Also, I have never written slow tender sex and let me just say that it is hard as hell to write and I'm still not sure that I like how it turned out but it was good practice. Keep in mind, this NSFW af people.

Also, as usual, editing? What editing?

Hope you enjoy!

Nikki knows that people are constantly surprised by his and Tommy’s relationship.

Not the fact that they’re together, no. He’s pretty sure the entire glam metal scene sighed a collective sigh of relief that reverberated through the entire music business when they finally stopped pining and just admitted that they were idiots who definitely liked each other as way more than bandmates and friends. Two years of them being longing, annoying, frustrated morons was definitely more than enough.

No, no one was shocked when they became a couple, anyone with eyes could see their feelings for each other plain as day even if they couldn’t themselves. But people were surprised by what kind of couple they were.

Nikki gets it. They were the Terror Twins, still are. They’re wild, chaotic, they drink too much, they definitely probably do too much coke when they party, they destroy property, and get into bar fights nearly every week. Thing was, that used to be all Nikki could get. That used to be his way to be close to Tommy so that’s all there was. When Tommy had wrapped his arms around Nikki’s neck that one night six months ago, tipsy off of too much whiskey and kissed him, it had changed everything.

Nikki had him now. Tommy was his just as much as he completely belonged to Tommy, and Nikki was going to cherish every fucking moment they had. He couldn’t help but wrap Tommy in his arms whenever he could, couldn’t stop himself from pulling the drummer into his lap and pressing kisses along his shoulders, calling the younger man his baby and angel and princess. He can see the expression on people’s faces, the look of shock over just how fucking soft he gets for Tommy.

He really couldn’t give a fuck about what they think.

Tommy warms him in a way that Nikki had only ever read about in books or heard about from shitty, unrealistic movies. Every time he smiles, or pushes his way into Nikki’s arms, the bassist feels one of the many deep, dark wounds inside of him close up and heal, his drummer’s love a balm for his beaten, battered soul.

Right now was the perfect example.

It was just them tonight, a rarity this early in the evening but for once, they hadn’t felt like going out after rehearsal. Vince had taken off nearly as soon as they had wrapped up in the studio, nothing but a wave and a yelled out ‘no fucking on the couch’ as he left and Mick had been feeling tired and a bit sore so he had gone to his own place to pass out and hopefully regain some energy.

After they had gotten home they had toyed briefly with maybe going out but it was winter in Los Angeles and the minute that the first pitter-patters of rain started beating down on their windows, Nikki knew they weren’t going anywhere.

That’s how he ended up here, on his back on their beat up old couch with Tommy curled up against him, head resting on his chest under a threadbare old blanket and watching some b-flick horror movie marathon on the small television that Vince had conned from an ex-girlfriend.

He hears and feels Tommy giggle when one of the characters in the movie gets cornered by the monster after running into the basement, the sound moving through Nikki and painting a smile on his face that he couldn’t have wiped off if he tried.

“His face, dude, he’s so surprised! Like, what did he expect when he ran into the fucking basement in the dark with a monster on the loose?” Tommy is laughing into his chest, fingertips of one hand absentmindedly playing with a lock of Nikki’s hair.

“Fucking moron.” Nikki agrees with a snicker of his own as he refocuses on the movie and not the man in his arms. It lasts all of a minute before his eyes are moving back to the mess of dyed black waves that is Tommy’s hair in front of him and his arms tighten around the drummer’s slender waist.

Tommy hums contently as Nikki presses his face to the top of his head to bury his nose in his curls, “You’re not even watching baby, I thought you wanted to see this.”

“I am watching.” Nikki argues without moving from his position. Tommy’s hair smells like coconut from the shower he took when they got home, more of an attempt to get warm than to get clean.

Tommy snorts in disbelief even as he nuzzles into Nikki’s chest. He brings one hand up to point at the tv and asks, “Then what’s the name of that character?”

Nikki doesn’t even look at the television, “Sandra.”

Tommy’s body shakes in laughter and it makes Nikki’s lips curl in a smile again, pride settling in his chest that he had made Tommy laugh like that, “Yeah Nik, HIS name is Sandra.”

Nikki laughs too before they quiet down, Tommy going back to watching the movie and Nikki back to watching Tommy.

He was so beautiful, Nikki had always thought so from the first day he had set eyes on him when he still drummed for Suite 19 and Nikki was still with London. How could he have known then that the skinny kid who looked no older than seventeen would be everything he had ever wanted and more? That he would quiet the terrible voices that whispered in his head about what a failure he was with loud bubbly chatter and more physical affection than Nikki had ever received in the combined total of his life?

He couldn’t have, so maybe it wasn’t love at first sight but it was love at second sight and that was still pretty damn miraculous if you asked Nikki because he knew that he was gone for Tommy just minutes into their first conversation at that shitty little diner after his last show with London.

Nikki slides a hand to creep up under his t-shirt that Tommy is wearing. He loves when Tommy wears his shirts, Tommy may be just a bit taller than him but he is just so damn slender, Nikki’s clothes always hang loose off of his narrower shoulders and expose his collarbones in a way that shouldn’t be so distractingly sexy considering Nikki sees his lover in skin tight leather and fishnets on a regular basis. But it is and Nikki prescribes it to his own possessive nature, something about Tommy in his clothing satisfying a primal urge to lay claim to his boyfriend.

He rests his hand on the warm smooth skin of Tommy’s lower back and lights up inside at the shiver he gets when he starts rubbing his thumb back and forth over the dip that his spine makes.

Tommy shifts against him and Nikki almost stops his petting but Tommy whines and the bassist continues his motions as Tommy speaks again, “I bet you’d do well in a horror movie baby, you’d definitely survive I think.”

“You think so?” Nikki murmurs, lips pressing kisses into Tommy’s hair.

“Mmm-hmm. You’d be the hero left at the end, alive after kicking some monster ass.”

Nikki laughs before smiling deviously, “You’d die in like the first ten minutes.”

“HEY!” Tommy twists in his hold and moves to straddle Nikki’s hips, face full of a mock offended expression and Nikki’s hands rest on his thighs like they were pulled there by magnets.

The lights are off in their apartment but the glow from the black and white movie on the television is enough to light Tommy up. Nikki is sentimental enough right now to momentarily think that’s because light is just drawn to Tommy, no matter the source it reaches out to bathe the younger man in its glow, as if it can sense Tommy’s own light inside of him.

“I’ll have you know Sixx that I would last until at least half way through.” Tommy says with indignation coloring his voice.

Nikki smiles wide again as he looks up at the drummer, “So even you admit you wouldn’t survive.”

Tommy sighs sadly, “Yeah, I’d die. I would be the tragic death that no one wants but pushes the hero to survive. You know, if I didn’t die doing something fucking stupid first.”

Nikki smiles as Tommy chuckles at himself a little bit, “Nah, you’d live babe.”

The drummer leans forward, hands on Nikki’s chest to support himself and the way the t-shirt he’s wearing slips to one side and nearly falls off of his shoulder, his curls slipping to frame his face just so, big brown eyes sparkling in the light of the television, it all combines together to create Nikki’s own personal vision of heaven.

“Even I know I’d die Nik but thanks for the support.” Tommy grins and leans down to rub his nose against Nikki’s in a small affectionate gesture and Nikki is sure that he doesn’t know just how much little things like that make his heart beat out of his chest, fill him with a warmth that is so contrasting to his previous chill that it’s almost painful as it spreads through him.

Tommy has always done things like that though. Even before they finally got together, even when they had just met and were still getting to know each other. The drummer is a physically affectionate person in general and he’s always hugging and touching people but he was always just so soft with Nikki. He was constantly cuddling into Nikki’s side and laying his head on Nikki’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek, almost as if he could sense how little Nikki had been touched like that in the past and made it his personal mission to remedy that.

It used to drive him crazy back when they still hadn’t admitted their feelings to each other. Because Nikki was sure that those little touches meant so much more to him than they did to Tommy. Now though, they drive him crazy in a different way.

Tommy backs away just a little bit, still only a few inches away from him and Nikki knows that he must be looking at Tommy with his ‘forever’ eyes. That’s what Tommy calls them, says that sometimes Nikki will look at him like he’s planning their next one hundred years together. He always knows when he’s looking at Tommy like that because Tommy gets this answering softness in his own gaze.

Nikki raises a hand off of Tommy’s thighs to cup the side of his face, fingers pushing into the curls slightly to keep them back, smiling softly when Tommy presses into his touch, “You wouldn’t die babe, because I’d never let anything happen to you. That monster can kiss my ass.”

The smile that slowly spreads across Tommy’s face absolutely takes Nikki’s breath away. How many lyrics has that smile inspired him to write? How many songs that will probably never make it to the public but that he hums to Tommy in bed were inspired by that expression? Nikki could make more platinum records than any artist in history, he could play to the biggest crowd in the world, could make it into the Rock N’ Roll Hall of Fame, but he would never be as proud as when he puts that look on Tommy’s face.

He uses the hand on Tommy’s cheek to pull him forward and presses their lips together in a short, sweet kiss. Nikki feels Tommy’s quiet gasp against him before the drummer is breaking their kiss to run his lips against Nikki’s jaw.

“My hero.” Tommy breathes out against his skin as Nikki drags his other hand over Tommy’s hip and underneath his shirt to pet at the soft warm skin of his waist.

“I’m hardly a hero, angel.” Nikki means it. The things that he’s done in his life hardly qualified him for such a position. There’s a darkness in him, maybe it was always there or maybe it was planted by his childhood, watered and grown by the early events of his life but whatever the case, Nikki can’t even begin to see himself in such a light.

“You are to me Nik, leather and chains and tattoos and all. My punk hero.” Tommy says it so earnestly, staring into his eyes with that tender expression that makes Nikki understand what Tommy means by ‘forever eyes’.

Nikki pulls him in for another kiss, firmer this time but still slow, just a press of their mouths against each other until he sneaks his tongue out to lick gently at Tommy’s bottom lip. The drummer opens up for him immediately, without hesitation, and Nikki reaches his tongue inside Tommy’s mouth to taste him. He could never get tired of this, of the way Tommy feels under his hands, under his mouth, could never tire of the taste of him on his tongue.

He feels a subtle tremor move through Tommy’s body as he curls his tongue around the younger man’s and he hears the whine that Tommy makes high in his throat. They have so many speeds to their relationship and when they fuck, both typically favoring the type of all-out throw down where they both lose control nowadays. Nikki knows that Tommy loves it when Nikki dominates him, when he fucks him hard and fast and barely gives him any time to recover before wrecking him all over again but he knows his lover so well. He knows that Tommy might love to get ruined, but nothing gets Tommy whining faster than when Nikki takes him apart slowly and that’s what Nikki wants right now. He wants the drummer falling apart under him in a way that makes Tommy feel every ounce of love that Nikki possesses for him.

Nikki moves the hand he has on Tommy’s face to sweep back and cradle the back of his head, fingers twisting in his curls, keeping him steady as he sits up so that Tommy is seated in his lap, not once breaking the contact of their lips as he continues to map out the drummer’s mouth. Tommy is whining louder for him now and when Nikki pulls back to catch his breath, the sound becomes unmuffled and it has Nikki surging forward to press kisses up and down the column of Tommy’s throat as the drummer buries his hands in Nikki’s hair.

“I love you Tommy,” Nikki breathes out against the skin of Tommy’s neck, determined to kiss every square inch of his body before the night is over, “Love you so fucking much angel, you got no idea.”

Tommy slides his hands from Nikki’s hair down to smooth over his neck and shoulders before cupping his bassist’s face in both hands and kissing him again, “I love you too Nik, god I love you baby.”

Nikki runs his hands over every plane and curve of Tommy’s body before settling on his hips and lower back, rubbing at the small of his back in a way that spreads heat through Tommy’s hips and makes him moan against the bassist’s lips, grinding down against where he can feel Nikki’s erection through their underwear beneath him. Nikki continues to pet at the warm skin as Tommy rocks his hips softly against him, little moans and gasps escaping his lips until he presses a kiss to Nikki’s ear, “Take me to bed Nik, I want to feel it, wanna feel how much you love me.”

The bassist can’t do anything but obey, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s waist and standing, blanket falling away as the drummer wraps his legs around Nikki’s hips and reconnects them in a kiss. Nikki’s feet take them to their bedroom by muscle memory, his eyes closed to savor the pure feeling of Tommy’s lips against his own, the sounds of his pleasure over the soft rain fall on their windows. They won’t be here for much longer, soon they’ll be picking out a house of their own and Nikki will have to relearn his way through it without the use of his eyes because the thought of separating himself from Tommy for even a moment while they’re like this is unbearable.

For now though he gets them into their room without any issue, not bothering to shut the door since Vince won’t be home tonight. He leans far enough over the bed to gently lay Tommy down before straightening back up and moving to grab a bottle of lube from on top of their dresser and pulling off his shirt and underwear easily, mindful of Tommy’s wanting brown eyes watching him.

He sees Tommy go to follow his lead and grab at the hem of his own shirt so he moves to settle in between Tommy’s legs and grabs the drummer’s hand, setting the lube next to them before taking Tommy’s other hand as well and pressing them both to the bed on either side of his head, dipping down to kiss him deep and devouring.

“Just stay there angel, I’m gonna take care of you.” Nikki presses one more kiss to Tommy’s lips before he sits back on his knees and takes Tommy’s left ankle in his hands, bringing it up to rest on his shoulder and turning his face to kiss at the bone before slowly moving his lips up his calf.

Tommy takes a shuddering breath as he feels Nikki’s lips on him and sighs his name, “N-nikki.”

His tone of voice makes Nikki pause and exhale shakily himself at the raw emotion filling his heart right now, “I’ve got you baby.”

He continues his path and stops to suck at the thin skin behind Tommy’s knee, delighting in the twitch Tommy’s hips make and the whimper he releases before he moves up further to kiss and suck at the soft skin of Tommy’s inner thigh.

“Oh god Nikki, please… please just hurry.” Tommy moans as he squirms and arches in Nikki’s hold.

Nikki places a firm hand on Tommy’s hip to keep him down and still, nipping sharply at a spot on his thigh in reprimand, “Not tonight angel, I’m taking my time tonight.”

Tommy whines as he tries to push closer to Nikki’s mouth but the bassist just moves to the other leg and gives it the same treatment going down. The drummer is trembling by the time Nikki gets down to his right ankle and the bassist would normally take mercy on him at this point but he’s too caught up in Tommy right now to even consider hurrying this along. Instead he just slides his hands back up Tommy’s legs and starts pushing the t-shirt up so he can suck and nibble on Tommy’s hipbones, fingers sneaking under the material to tweak and rub at Tommy’s nipples.

The drummer’s legs are spreading wider automatically and shaking on either side of him, back arched and hips rolling up against nothing as he whimpers and calls out for him so sweetly.

Nikki places a few simple kisses to the skin underneath Tommy’s belly button as he skims his fingertips down his waist until he’s gripping the material of Tommy’s underwear, leaning back to watch as he pulls them away, the drummer’s legs coming back together to let him slip them down before promptly spreading open again once they’re off.

Nikki groans at that, Tommy is always so open, so wanton in bed that it never fails to drive him crazy. Looking at him now, face and shoulders flush, curly hair messy, eyes hooded and dazed as they stare into Nikki’s and long legs spread for him, Nikki swears that he has never seen anything so fucking beautiful.

He lets Tommy pull him down when the drummer’s hands find his shoulders, ducking to kiss him again as he slides his hands underneath Tommy’s body and clutches his close. Tommy wraps his legs around Nikki’s waist again and the bassist hisses when the drummer rolls his hips up against his. He knows what Tommy is trying to do, knows that he’s trying to goad Nikki into going faster, into just fucking him already but Nikki isn’t going to fall for it.

The bassist breaks free of Tommy’s hold and gently turns him over onto his stomach, pushing his shirt up and keeping Tommy’s hips pinned down as he presses his lips to the top of his spine.

“Nikki, nngh, baby, please, you’re killing me.” Tommy whines as Nikki moves his mouth down the length of his back and the older man can’t help but smirk against his skin when a rough suck midway down his spine has Tommy moaning and pushing his ass up against his hold. The further down his back Nikki gets the louder Tommy moans and when he pulls the younger boy’s hips up to settle him on his knees and sucks harshly at the base of his spine above his tailbone Tommy whines so loud and high pitched he surprises even himself.

“I’m getting there angel, gonna make you feel so good Tommy, I promise.” Nikki runs his hands reverently over Tommy’s ass, gripping both cheeks in his hands and spreading him apart delicately. Tommy is panting below him, hands fisted in the sheets of their bed and Nikki moans himself as he leans in to lick over his lover’s entrance.

Tommy lets out a surprised yelp, arches his back and spreads his legs further and the motion sends heat rushing through Nikki’s abdomen, encourages him to lick another wet stripe over the rim before firming his tongue up and slipping it inside.

He loves eating Tommy out, it’s honestly one of his favorite things to do because Tommy responds so beautifully, whatever tenuous control he had before completely leaving him and the high gasping keens he makes drive Nikki insane. Nikki thrusts his tongue in and out of Tommy, making sure to curl it up and rub as hard as he can against the walls of his hole, reveling in the scream Tommy lets out.

Nikki has never had a lover that drove him like this. Before Tommy, sex was purely for his benefit, of course he wanted his partner to feel good but that was secondary to his own pleasure. With Tommy it’s completely flipped. He couldn’t care less if he ends up coming after this, all that matters to him is making Tommy feel as good as he can because seeing Tommy in pleasure, seeing him come because of Nikki is more satisfying than any orgasm he has ever had with anybody else.

Nikki pulls back to catch his breath and watches lustfully as Tommy’s hips squirm in his hold and his entrance clenches around nothing. He leans forward and presses kisses and nips to Tommy’s cheeks as he lets go, reaching out to grab the lube and slicking up his fingers before pressing one inside slowly.

Tommy gives him a satisfied moan and then releases one fist to reach back for him and Nikki bends over to press his chest to his back and threads his fingers through the back of Tommy’s hand, pressing it back down to the mattress and capturing his mouth in a deep kiss, all the while thrusting his finger into him, adding a second slick digit when Tommy starts pushing his hips down onto it.

Tommy breaks their kiss to gasp as Nikki’s two fingers stretch him out and the bassist presses his forehead to Tommy’s temple, the air between them warm from the drummer’s panting breaths and Nikki basks in the intimacy.

“Nikki!” Tommy keens loudly suddenly, eyelids fluttering over those pretty brown eyes that Nikki so adores, hips stuttering and walls clenching around his fingers tightly. Nikki knows that he must have hit Tommy’s prostrate so he keeps that same angle as he drives in again with three fingers this time and Tommy collapses, chest to the bed and face buried in the pillow as he sobs from the pleasure.

Nikki releases Tommy’s hand and carefully tilts his head to the side so he can kiss the drummer’s cheek. He’s painfully hard now, throbbing with need as he feels how tight Tommy is around his fingers, as he watches his lover falling apart beneath him, more drunk off of Tommy’s whines and whimpers than any liquor could get him.

“Nikki, N-nik please, I-i need more, please baby.” Tommy moans as Nikki bites gently at his earlobe, fingers still curling up against that spot that makes his toes curl.

Nikki breathes out a shaky breath, “Tell me what you want baby, I’ll give it to you, always. Give you anything you could ever want Tommy.”

Tommy whimpers again, one hand reaching up behind him to tangle in Nikki’s hair, “You, Nikki, I want you, baby I want you inside me, please.”

Nikki groans, pulling his fingers out and kissing Tommy’s cheek again to soothe him when he whines at the loss of fullness, “Anything for you Tommy.”

The bassist runs his hands down the length of Tommy’s back and grips his hips, turning him onto his back, settling between his legs and sighing when Tommy’s hands find his face. Nikki stares into Tommy’s eyes and sees everything, everything that he never thought that he would have staring back at him. The pure, unconditional love shining in Tommy’s bright brown eyes steals the breath right out of lungs, beckons him in a way that’s impossible for him to resist. He curls one hand into Tommy’s curls as he surges forward to kiss him, his other hand holding on to his cock as he pushes forward into Tommy.

Nikki watches as Tommy tosses his head back, a shuddering moan escaping him as Nikki bottoms out while the bassist rests his weight on his forearms on either side of Tommy, pressing his mouth against the drummer’s throat as he pants and tries to catch his own breath.

Being inside of Tommy is unlike anything else. The pleasure is one thing, Tommy is hot and tight around him, it makes him dizzy with how absolutely good it is, leaves him wanting it all the time. But it’s more than that with his drummer, it’s the idea of them being connected, it’s how Nikki only feels whole when he is a part of Tommy like this, cradled inside of him, home.

Nikki feels Tommy bring his shaking legs up to wrap around his waist and the younger man uses that leverage to roll his hips up, sending Nikki deeper into him and making him gasp out, “Move, Nikki, need you to move now.”

One of Nikki’s hands next to Tommy’s head sinks into his hair and the other travels down his body to grip the outside of his thigh as he pulls out slowly enough to feel every inch of Tommy’s walls around him, pushing back in just as slowly to feel how he opens up to him, groaning as the drummer mewls, hands coming up to clench around Nikki’s back and keep him close.

Nikki rolls his hips languidly between Tommy’s legs, fucking him deep and slow, savoring every gasped moan, every loud cry when Nikki hits his prostrate, every sob when Nikki grinds his hips between thrusts.

He picks up his pace just a little, one arm releasing his grip on Tommy’s thigh to wrap around his lower back and lift his hips so that he’s at a perfect angle to slide right into the spot that makes Tommy see stars.

Tommy moans loud and long, fingertips pressing into the muscle of Nikki’s back and pulling the man on top of him down to press their lips together in what cannot technically be defined as a kiss, both too far gone to do more than pant and moan against each other’s mouth.

A particularly deep thrust has Tommy gasping and clenching even tighter around Nikki’s cock and the bassist hangs his head and grunts as a wave of pure pleasure washes over him, squeezing Tommy’s lower body even closer to him. Tommy’s fingers sink into his hair and card through the strands frantically as he presses kisses to Nikki’s forehead.

“Nikki, oh god… so good baby,” Tommy whimpers against his skin, pushing back against the bassist’s thrusts as well as he can with Nikki’s hold on him, “You love me so good Nik, please don’t stop.”

Nikki breaths sharply through his nose as Tommy talks, his words lighting him on fire like they always do and Nikki wraps his other arm around Tommy’s shoulders tightly, straightening up so he’s kneeling with Tommy held up in his arms and straddling his lap. Gravity drags Tommy down onto his cock and forces him deeper and the feeling of Tommy surrounding him is overwhelming to the point of incoherency as he thrusts up into his drummer, making Tommy throw his head back and wail, rolling his hips down without even thinking about it.

Nikki rests his head against Tommy’s shoulder as he drives into him over and over, mouthing over his sweat slicked skin and barely aware of what he’s saying as he whispers out praises, “My beautiful angel, so sweet baby. Can’t believe you’re mine, absolutely blows me away, are you close baby, shit, I’m so close, you feel so fucking good Tommy.”

Tommy nods desperately as he continues to moan, tears filling his eyes and one sliding down his cheek at the pleasure and emotion overpowering him.

“I’m close, nngh, god I’m close Nik. Wanna come with you, make me come with you, please.” Tommy’s pleas may as well be commands because Nikki is sliding his hand from the drummer’s shoulders to slip between them and grasp Tommy’s cock, jerking him off in time to his thrusts as Tommy cries out, more tears escaping his eyes.

It only take a few slides of Nikki’s hand and another deep thrust inside of him to make Tommy come, the way the drummer’s mouth falls open to whisper Nikki’s name so brokenly and the way his hole contracts around Nikki drags the bassist right along with him. His hands grasp on to Tommy to hold him close, groaning at the bliss that envelops him as he spills his release into him.

Nikki holds on to him as they tremble from the force of their orgasms, pressing kisses to Tommy’s collarbones that are exposed by the shirt he’s still wearing as he listens to the quiet little whimpers Tommy makes with his aftershocks.

He feels Tommy running his hands through his damp hair absentmindedly and sighs when the drummer cradles his head against his shoulder.

“Nikki Sixx, you better not ever fucking leave me because you’ve ruined me for anyone else, Jesus.” Tommy sounds exasperated, but so damn fond and satisfied that Nikki grins.

“Gotta keep you hooked baby, I’m trying to keep you forever here you know.” Nikki leans back, cupping Tommy’s face and rubbing a tear streak away with his thumb.

Tommy smiles, dipping down to kiss him briefly, “I’m never going anywhere Nik, not if I can help it. Except if a monster is after us then I’m out of here because we both know that I would die in no time doing something dumb like throwing a whiskey bottle at it or something.”

They both laugh at that and the movement jolts Tommy in his lap enough to make Nikki moan and start to harden again, the drummer gasping at the feeling of the bassist stretching him as he grows, “Fuck, already Nik?”

Nikki smirks, “I already told you didn’t I baby?”

Tommy yelps as Nikki lays him down and rolls his hips into him, pressing forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m taking my time with you tonight.”

The drummer moans at that, “Forget the monster, you’re definitely going to be the death of me Sixx.”

Nikki laughs giddily before capturing Tommy’s lips is a ravenous kiss, intent on showing his angel how much he loves him for the rest of the night.

#motley crue #motley crue fanfic #terrorcest #terror twins #tommy/nikki #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #mick mars #just more smut guys #i dont know why youre so surprised #thats literally all i write lol

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iliketodiesometimes · 4 years

Text

Skyway (2)

jaebum fanfic

skyway intro / one / two / three

pairing: jaebum x reader genre: supernatural, romance plot: Jaebum is roaming the earth trapped between two worlds, in a town in the middle of nowhere. Jaebum continues his bounded life, with no one being able to see him, or at least he thinks so until a girl confronts him. a/n: this is not edited, or completed. I wrote this a few years ago

Here's the thing about life, or my life, or what's left of it anyway; it is unpredictable and ever-changing.

Its simple and everybody knows it, but nobody really seems to grasp it. Everybody is chasing after a better future, letting go of the now, when it should really be the opposite. Leave the chase of the future, for a better now, so when the future comes it can be celebrated too.

Because they'll always come a future, and if there's not, at least the life lived so far was good.

One can imagine my words being so idealistic that they become unrealistic, but they're not.

I'm being honest.

I'm being as honest as the sunlight that gently hitting skin. I'm being honest as the tingling burns on fingertips when dipped in melting candle wax. I'm being honest as a person who no longer has a future can be.

All I have is the past, and all I regret is letting go of the present.

I try not to get too sad, about it though. It's not like I no longer exist. I do, but not in the most natural way.

I'm trapped in the human world, waiting for the white light to shine down on me and sweep me to heaven or hell. At this point, any would be preferable.

There's nothing wrong about the town that I'm stuck in, but there's nothing right about it either.

Maybe, being in Seoul would have been different.

There would have been so much to watch, so many people to see; people that I actually knew, and not a bunch of strangers.

A bunch of strangers in a strange town, but there were stranger things here.

There is a girl; there always is, but her- she's different.

Everybody stirs clear of her way, making sure not to look into her dark eyes. They call her the Ice Queen, and rightfully so.

She was terrifying. On my fifty-eight day here, our eyes met and I froze. It was like slithering snakes were twirling disgusting up my spine, paralysing me cold under her gaze.

I was running down the hall, singing Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, at the top of my lungs. She was in class and looked out the windows. Her cold stare rested on me, and my voice got stuck in my throat.

A shiver ran down my spine, as little goosebumps rose all over my body.

That day I had to remind myself over and over again, that I didn't exist. She couldn't see me, there's no way that she could.

She wasn't even looking into my eyes, and she made me freeze. I could only imagine what would happen if she could.

Apart from her, this town was as boring as they came. Everything was constant, everything was repetitive, everything was stuck in a period of stasis; never-evolving. Everything was everything that I used to seek before, but now revolt.

It was my eighty-sixth day when I realised that I had, what one could call superpowers.

I could copy things into my own little ghost world.

I could walk through walls.

I could teleport, only within this town.

I could touch people, but I tended not to because it results in an incredibly horrible sensation for both parties. But I still whisper into the bad bullies' ears when they're in the toilets. I tell them they have a small one, and they're always stuck in between scared beyond belief and offence.

I wish I could fly, but I couldn't.

I wish I could read minds, but I couldn't.

I wish I could stay at home, but I couldn't.

I tried going to Seoul and to my parent's home before. However, it could only last a day. As soon as I would go to sleep, and open my eyes, I was back in this boring town with boring strangers.

I brought back things from home; like my backpack with all my music making materials. My Simpsons phone case, and my phone.

I like to believe the most amazing miracle is that my phone is fully charged, always. It never runs out of battery, or data. I'm on level thirteen of the Kingdom of the Legends in Galore, soon to reach fourteen. You could say I'm a legend.

Was a legend.

Or whatever.

I try not think about my life before this. I try not think how I ended up here, how my parents are, how the rest of the boys are. I avoid everything that I can about my life when I was alive. When I go back to the dorms or home, I make sure no one is at home.

I can't look at any of them.

"I can't stand the sight of you!"

I shot my head up from my seat and looked at Bomi screaming at her boyfriend, Jung Chul. I shook my head, as the girl kept yelling at the meek-looking boy in front of her.

From what I heard, they had been going out for five years now, and all those years had been exactly the same. They break up and make-up more frequently then frequentation of adverts on non-cable television. Yet, they were the couple that everyone adored, everyone knows they will end up together in the end, and they might.

I spent a whole two weeks watching them, and they were in love. Not those high school ones, the kind that grandparents have. Looking at them made my heart warm, but it reminded me my heart wasn't real.

It wasn't beating anymore; it was dead, like me.

I turned away from the couple and looked at the dirt instead. It was better than watching another episode of how could you forget our first cupcake together anniversary.

Okay, so it wasn't that extreme, but it was.

It was always on the smallest of thing, but they always made up for the same reasons as well. They were a weird couple.

"There they go again." A voice spoke as they settled beside me.

I turned my head, and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. It was her, the Ice Princess.

She looked exactly the same as the first day I saw her. The first day I had become this ghost. Boyoung's older sister the one with worry and warmth on her face was the infamous Ice Queen of the hellhole.

"Why are they fighting when they'll get back together?" She muttered, under her breath.

"Just let them do want they want," I grumbled back, even though she wouldn't be able to hear me. "Let them live as they want, as long as they are able to."

I got up from my seat and looked at the couple in front of me. The familiar weight returning on my chest as it always did whenever I thought about the gravity of my situation. I wasn't alive, and I wasn't in my afterlife.

I am stuck here; dead, stuck and rotting away.

"At least they are alive." I huffed as I cast my eyes away from them, and began walking away.

"Where are you going?" She asked, and I froze.

"We have a lot to talk about," she smirked as he poked her straw into her banana milk.

"Look," she held up a pick one. "I got strawberry one for you. I heard that you liked it."

The girl sat in her dark blue dress, the ends of her skirt gently fluttering in the wind. The trees around us danced as the autumn breeze rushed through them. A few leaves fell down, floating to the ground, one landed on her lap. She picked it off with her right hand, as the left extended the pink drink towards me.

I was staring at her wide-eyed.

Could she see me?

No, there's no way.

"It's nice to finally officially meet you, Im Jaebum." She smiled at me, softly. Her eyes were on me, and I couldn't move.

My heart drummed in my chest, trying to escape. My breathing felt heavier as the air left my lungs.

How was this possible? How could she see me?

"How?" I asked, breathless. She sat there on the wooden bench. Her hands placed the drink beside her, as her dark hair floated lightly in the wind. Her eyes were soft, but her lips were curling into an arrogant smile.

"You can see me, y/n?" I gulped, my hands shaking beside me. I clenched them into a fist, keeping them still as I shook my head trying to make this dream fade away.

"I can, Jaebum." She answered, shooting me a know-it-all smile.

"How do you know my name?" I shot at her, I glared at her.

"You're part of a boy group, called GOT7. You are the leader, born in 1996, 1.79 meters tall, and you really have a wonderful voice." She fired back, holding my gaze.

"How long have you known it was me?" I asked her, trying to keep level-headed.

"I found out about you yesterday."

"Since when could you see me?" I asked her, quietly.

She bit her lip, as her eyes cast to the ground.

"I saw you from the first day; when we met by the lake."

Anger shot up my spine, as red blinded my vision.

I couldn't believe it. I was shaking with rage, as my breathing laboured.

"Jaebum," she sighed, apologetically as she saw my reaction.

She could see me all along, but she left me alone in this fucking hell alone?

I held out my hand to stop her from saying anything. I didn't need her pity, or her empty words. I didn't need anything from her. At least not for now; anything she says could tip me over. Letting the blinding rage consume every part of my body like blazing fire.

I spun on my heels and sprinted off to the only place I found comfort. The one place I felt at home now. The place I had opened my eyes too.

#jaebum #jaebum fanfic #got7 #got7 jaebum #fanfic #im jaebum #skyway #fluff #jaedaddy

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mollymarymarie · 5 years

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Come On Back To Me

I know, I know. This isn’t Wolfstar (which is, like 99% of what my life is made of), but my PSM (@sparrowof-thedawn) commissioned me to write some smut about Sam Kiszka (bass player from Greta Van Fleet), and I WENT OFF on it. I have a soft spot for boys in bands.

Obviously the smut means NSFW, so use caution, friends. Also, I go through a bit of set-up, so give it a minute.

“I don’t have time to think about it, that’s all there is to it,” you say with the smile that you were accustomed to plastering on, a smile that was becoming increasingly more common. A smile that covered the tired ache constantly hiding behind your lips.

“No,” your best friend, Casey replies with that sarcastic drip to her voice that assures you know she is about to side-step all your bullshit. “You’re not willing to make the time.”

You take a long sip of the Americano in your hand, rolling your eyes dramatically from across the table at Starbucks. The smile on your lips became a little more genuine. It had been weeks since the two of you had been able to spend any time together at all, both of you doing medical residencies in completely different cities. It was a stark and unwelcome contrast from your school days, when you spent nearly every waking hour together.

“Easy for you to say, you live with yours. He’s literally at arm’s length every time you turn around,” you say with a scoff in your tone. You would never undermine the struggle that Casey and her husband had gone through to be together, but she still couldn’t argue that point. She could sit there and tell you that you would find someone eventually, that you would settle down, that you would find happiness, but she had found hers relatively early. They had been together for so long, Casey didn’t even know what dating meant right now.

“I know,” she says, an irritated growl forming in the back of her throat. She knows she’s losing this argument, so she turns to sentiment to win. “You just can’t see what you have. You’re too focused on what you think other people think you lack.”

“Oh?” you laugh bitterly, throwing up a dark, high-arching brow in disbelief. Again, an easy point for her to make in defense. She wasn’t the one whose last relationship ended in flames because her boyfriend of two years decided the distance was too much and their history wasn’t enough. Granted, it had been over a year since they broke up, but the point remained.

“Yes,” she insists with an exaggerating hiss. “First of all, let’s ignore looks, shall we?”

“We’d have to,” you mutter into your paper cup.

“I heard that, shut the fuck up,” she quips immediately with a snap of her fingers, in some dangerous border between playful and murderous. “There is so much magic in you, fam. You graduated with a doctorate, so you’re hella smart. You give your best friend pep talks when she goes through her third nervous breakdown of the month. You continue to love with your whole life despite all the shit that people have given you,” she clears her throat and you hear the name of your ex not-so-subtly buried in the cough that followed. You roll your eyes again.

“Which doesn’t matter because all people see is this,” you say, gesturing down your torso with both hands. Across the table, Casey’s mouth snaps shut and her eyes narrow.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Everybody wants a skinny super model. And I am not.”

“Neither the fuck am I!” she shouts, gathering the attention of damn near everyone in the coffee shop with you. For an introvert, she tends to be rather vocal. “If you’re an eclectic taste, then so am I. Still a lot of people that have the tattoo stigma, you know.” Off-handedly, she brushes over the bursts of color inked across her shoulders.

“But that’s a choice you made. I didn’t make the choice to be my size.”

“Same, though?” she said, her features softening a bit. “Literally the only reason I’m sort of thin is because of the celiac with my total shit diet,” she says with a smirk. “But it also gives me really bad skin and this stupid belly pooch that I’ll never get rid of and super thin hair.”

“Which you can –”she interrupts your argument.

“You, on the other hand,” she leans in, placing her face into her hands, propped up on the tabletop. “Look at you. Curls for miles, dark and silky and defined. Hair that a guy could lose a hand in and would be grateful to.” With one hand, you subconsciously twirl your hair around it in a whirl before tossing it over your shoulder. “You skin is nearly flawless, dotted with freckles like the damn stars in the sky but twice as beautiful.” You could feel a blush creeping up from the base of your throat. Your platonic soulmate had always had a way with words. There’s a reason people mistake you for a couple, more often than not.

She continues. “Your lips are so much fuller than mine and when you put on that deep red color, Jesus H. Christ, if I was into girls.”

“You are into girls.”

“It’s a figure of speech.”

“You literally could’ve just said ‘if I was single’.” An expression crosses over her face, all pursed lips and puffed cheeks, like being single was so unrealistic of an option (she’s sickeningly in love with her spouse, it’s disgusting) that she hadn’t even considered that. In her defense, she had figured out the bisexual thing pretty late in the game, long after she was married.

“Shut up,” she laughs, high and bright. “The point is you are young and beautiful and you have time.” You open your mouth to argue, but she speaks first. “You will have time, after this residency. Literally the only time I see James right now is for dinner and sex.”

“Separately, I hope,” you laugh against the lip of your coffee cup.

“You’d be surprised and disgusted by how often they overlap,” she says, raising her left brow. It’s like a bizarre innuendo trademark. If she’s making a sex joke, that eyebrow goes up and it’s so sharply pointed that it just makes her expression look so much more scandalous.

“I don’t even want that. I’m not even interested in the sex. Just the company.”

“Bless your little grace soul. The company is the best part, anyway,” she says with a shrug, taking the last sip of her chai latte. “Speaking of company, you still talking to Sammy?”

You roll your eyes again, wondering if you could do permanent damage with how often you’ve used those muscles in the last ten minutes. “No, I don’t talk to Sam anymore.”

“Wait, wait, hold on. Since, uh, when?” she asks with a twirl of her finger.

“Do you know who Sam is now?” you say with a sarcastic huff. “He’s not Sammy Boy from undergrad anymore. He’s Sam Fucking Kiszka and he’s been on SNL and he’s touring with Greta and he’s probably with a different girl every night and those girls don’t look like me.”

“I swear to God, I’ll murder you in your sleep tonight if you keep this up.”

“You know what I mean.” Irritation seeps into your voice. You love your PSM, but she doesn’t get this. If anything, she was probably Sam’s type when you were all hanging out together in your little college town. Sure, there was that one night, but you were drunk, and Sam was drunk, and nothing happened. It certainly seemed that way the next morning, anyway, considering it was something that neither of you ever brought up again.

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

“I’m gonna give you my love!” Sam was yelling-slash-singing Led Zeppelin at the top of his lungs again and if it wasn’t so damn adorable, it would be annoying. Hell, if it was anyone else, it would be annoying, but it’s Sam and, unfortunately for you, you’re rather smitten with Sam.

“I’m taking this away from you,” Casey whispers with a syrupy smile as she slipped the square bottle out from Sam’s fingers. He barely even noticed.

“Oh, let him sing. It’s our last night together,” you say with a sigh, trying not to focus too much on that part. Tomorrow, you’d be moving to a new town, a bigger town, to start med school and Sam and his brothers (including Danny) would be setting out on their first tour.

It was a pretty fucking big deal, actually. GVF had been getting a lot of attention lately, so this first tour was sort of a long-play audition for some big-shot record executive and, if they did well, they were golden. And you knew they would do well because that’s what they always do.

“Hang on, stop right there,” Sam calls out, buried somewhere in a laugh, “You hate my singing.” With that look on his face that often showed up in your dreams, Sam saunters over to you, one of his dark eyebrows raised to its full capacity, his ever-lengthening brown hair, streaked with highlights given to him by the sun, falling down over the sharp edges of his cheeks.

“I don’t hate it,” you say under your breath as you take another sip from the tumbler in your hand. It was more like a gulp. This close, Sammy tends to make you nervous.

“You really are going to miss me, aren’t you?” From where you’re leaning against the kitchen counter, Sam encircles you with his arms, holding himself just far enough away that you could still smell the whiskey on his breath, the floral notes from the product in his hair.

“I’ll hardly notice you’re missing,” you lie, blatantly.

“That’s not what Casey tells me,” he says under a knowing smirk and you shoot a glare at your best friend, who gives you a brazen wink in return, lip curled up and everything, just before she vanishes into the living room to find her significant other.

“Casey is a damn liar,” you reply with a laugh and try to ignore what looks like adoration in Sammy’s expression at the sound of happiness in your voice. You read too far into him.

“Who else is going to give you shit for getting the only A on a test that everyone else failed? And don’t say Casey because she wasn’t in that class or she would’ve had an A, too.” As he speaks, his arms curl in until he’s nearly pressed against you. God, you wish he would let go.

“What about you?” you strike back, poking him in the chest and wishing you could spread your fingers out over his sharply defined collarbones pushing back from beneath his shirt. “Who will be there to make fun of you for dancing to Whitney Houston when no one is watching?”

He wrinkles his nose at you, and you melt a little inside. “Whitney is an icon, alright?”

“So I’ll miss you. A little.” You roll your eyes. You do that a lot in Sam’s direction. “Not like you. You won’t even remember my name a month from now.” The playful spark in Sam’s eyes goes out like a doused flame. In fact, he physically startles a little, pushing back from you.

“Won’t even remember your name?” he repeats with what sounds like hurt in his voice, but you know better than that. You feel like you’re always giving Sam feelings that he doesn’t have for you, hearing intonations in his voice that aren’t there, reading into little things he does that probably don’t have meaning to him. “Is that what you really think of me?”

You backtrack a little, concerned with this change in mood. “You’ll be too busy to miss me, Sam. A different city every night, a different party every night, a different girl.” That last part, you add under your breath, certain he’s too drunk to catch it, anyway.

“You realize that outside of the band, you and Casey and James are my best friends, right? We’ve been friends for the last four years. But you think I won’t even remember your name.” He pushes away from you, storming around the kitchen as he drags his hands through his thick, wavy hair, and you’re left to stand in stunned silence. Sam doesn’t get angry. Not like this.

“It was a joke, Sammy,” you say, even though it certainly hadn’t been a joke when you said it. It was actually the worst of your fears and it had been consuming you for weeks.

“No, I think you mean that,” Sam says, his voice escalating a bit as he circles the island of your kitchen, hands still buried in his hand, coming back to where you’re still standing.

“Alright, maybe a little bit, but I mean,” a blush bubbles up to encompass your face, knowing what you’re about to say to this boy you’ve had a crush on for four years, “Look at you.”

Sam stops in front of you. Stares at you. You squirm a bit under it. “I’m too busy looking at you,” he retorts, his eyes traveling across the features of your face. You see them settling over a patch of freckles underneath your eye, following them over the bridge of your nose to the mirrored opposite side. His eyelashes are so long, so dark that when he lowers his head to look at you through them, it darkens his gaze, hollowing his warm brown eyes until his pupils look blown wide. This is the way you always imagined him looking at you, but never thought possible.

“Not much to see,” you reply, a defense mechanism. With a snarl, his lip twitches up over his canines, they glint in the low light of the kitchen, the moonlight coming in from outside.

“How are you so goddamn stubborn?” he huffs out, slipping his hand along your neck, underneath the curtain of your dark curls, his thumb settling over your windpipe. He leans forward, unsettling your lips with his own, just slightly. The bittersweet of the whiskey is still on his lips and, you find out, on his tongue, as he deepens the kiss and pulls you close.

But he’s right. You’re stubborn. You’re so stubborn, he’s too drunk, and you’re both leaving. Doing this now doesn’t mean a fucking thing. You pull away, cursing yourself. Cursing him for waiting this long. Cursing the universe for making him who he is and you who you are.

“Wow, you’ve had way too much to drink, Sammy,” you laugh off, playfully pushing him toward the living room, where you knew, by now, Casey and James had crashed on the couch. “I think you’d better sleep it off. I’ll see you in the morning.” Quickly, you escape to your bedroom, where you fully convince yourself that it could’ve been anyone. He would’ve kissed anyone.

You don’t cry, you don’t often give yourself that luxury, but you do let yourself take a mental catalogue of this taste in your mouth. Warm, sharp, aching. And so, so bitter.

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

The coffee date and the dinner and the shopping were over far too soon. Work started again the next morning, Casey was back in a town that was too fucking far away, and you were left in your one-bedroom apartment that felt too small and too big all at the same time.

Until your phone vibrated on the bedside table. In the dark, it lit up the whole room. Your cat scurried away from it in a panic from the unexpected noise it brought to the silence. For a moment, you considered just leaving it until morning. It most likely wasn’t work – this wasn’t your on-call weekend anyway. It could’ve been Casey, but she’d gotten home several hours before (which you knew because you always forced her to text when she made it).

Whoever it was could wait. For now, you just wanted to be alone. No, that wasn’t quite right. You wanted to be alone with someone, but there was nobody to be alone with. It was just you and you cat, Mickie, like it was every night, like it had been every night for almost a year.

Despite yourself, you glanced over. It was a Snap. That alone was enough to pique your interest. Casey hardly ever sent an unsolicited Snap (she only kept it because of you, and she only replied to keep up the streak), and there weren’t a lot of people who would send you a Snap at this hour (it was almost two in the morning) on a Sunday night.

Curiosity got the better of you. You unlock your phone and pull down the notifications bar. The Snap is from Sammy. Your thumb hovers over the notification for an embarrassingly long time. By then, it had been weeks since you last talked to Sam.

Against your better judgement, you open the Snap. Immediately, a soft smile rushes over your face, a blush trailing closely behind it. It’s Sam – a selfie of Sam on stage with the neck of his bass in one hand, the phone in the other, and a screaming crowd behind him.

The tagline reads, “Missing you more than you think.”

Goddammit. God fucking dammit. What the shit was he trying to do? You had already convinced yourself to forget about the kiss, to forget about your feelings, to forget about Sammy. He’d made it difficult – he kept in near constant contact with you since undergrad. It was going on five years later, and you still talked to him daily. Sometimes, it was only a text, sometimes it was only a picture, rarely there was a phone call (which were always very awkward because you’re good with words on a screen, but in person, not so much).

Every now and then, only a handful of times over the last five years, you and Sam got to see each other in person. Sometimes it was at a GVF show, sometimes it was with a group of friends. Once, he showed up at your apartment with no warning. That one was rough, but ultimately, nothing happened. Nothing ever happened. It had always never happened.

Finally, you had decided. It was enough. Nothing would ever happen with Sam. Maybe it would make you a bad friend for cutting off contact with him completely, but it was so fucking hard to talk to him every single day and not imagine what things could’ve been like if you hadn’t pushed him away that night. If he hadn’t left, if you hadn’t left. If you started something sooner.

The texts from Sam slowed to a stop, eventually. Until now. It was so frustrating, because you knew, absolutely, without a doubt, even if he remembered the kiss, it was just a kiss. No meaning, no feelings. Just a drunken kiss between two friends. That’s what it was to him.

You consider not replying. You consider removing him from your Snapchat. You even went so far as to consider blocking him. But you couldn’t do that. As hard as it was, you could never stop being in love with Sam. Oh, fuck. That’s what this is. You’re in love with him.

With a deep breath, you hold your phone out, the front-facing camera on, and you flick on the lamp next to your bed. In the low, yellow lamplight, you place your curls just right, tilt your head just right, open your mouth just enough, and snap. No filters, no fillers. Just you.

In the caption, you write: “Sorry for the radio silence. I miss you, too.” Send.

Even though his picture was from stage, you knew the show had long been over. You had an internal clock for what time of night he was usually on stage (most often so you would know when to expect a text or a call), and you faithfully followed the cities in the tour. Well, you used to. The tour he was on now was mostly a mystery ever since you’d cut him out of your life.

It’s mere seconds before you get a Snap back. This one is in real time. No stage, no lights, no fans. Just Sammy. His chocolate brown eyes look up, right into the lens of the camera, leaving you to draw in a sharp, unsteady breath. His hair is longer now, still kissed with sunlight, tossed in front of both broad shoulders. He’s wearing that same denim shirt from the night you kissed five years ago, but the top four buttons are open, showcasing the strong, sharp cords of muscle that run along his throat and meet in the center, just between his collarbones.

It reads: “God, it’s good to see your face.”

Fuck. This Snap was calculated. He sent this with purpose. He had to know what this would incite. Sure, that kiss hadn’t ended to anyone’s satisfaction five years ago, but he had to know, right? He had to know that you didn’t want to stop him that night, right?

Fuck it. Two could play at his game. With your heart beating in your throat, you crane your neck down into your pillow, arranging your curls to look artfully splayed around your temples, and you turn your head away from the camera, the collar of the T-shirt that you had fallen asleep in stretched out to give him a good view of the nape of your neck.

“Yours is still as cute as ever.”

This was a huge risk. In all the time that you’d known Sammy, you had never once admitted to anything. Never admitted that he was cute, never admitted to that kiss, never admitted to your crush. And you just had, accompanied by a slightly uninhibited photo.

His reply is immediate. The photo of him is hardly different, his eyes are a little wider, his brows are raised a little higher, his mouth is hanging slightly ajar. But it’s not the photo that catches your attention. It’s the message attached to it.

“I’m in town. Are you home?”

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. You should have followed their touring schedule more closely, you would’ve been more prepared for this. Fuck. Your mind races through a thousand different scenarios. Is he reading into these Snaps the same way you are? Does he realize what a 2AM visit to a girl at her apartment alone implies? Sammy was always oblivious, but not that oblivious.

You Snap back a blank picture, a black screen of the inside of your palm. You’re losing your nerve a bit, but you still have the guts to reply, making every implication crystal clear.

“Home alone. Want to come over?”

Initially, your realization that you were gray-asexual was kind of a strange awakening, but it made absolute sense to you, once it was explained fully. And it fit. You don’t often experience a need for physical intimacy, not the way most people do. It comes and goes (sometimes at random), and you can usually take care of that rare need yourself and then get on with your life.

Except when it came to Sam. He was always the exception. Random men could express interest in you, in your body, and you remined neutral. There wasn’t that spark with them, with strangers. But that spark grew into a wildfire with Sammy. The more you knew about him, the more you fell in love with him, and the more you wanted from him. With him.

Your phone lights up the room again. You expected another Snap, but it’s a call. From Sammy. You answer without hesitating, anxious to hear what his voice sounds like, whether there’s an ache hiding in his throat, whether he sounds like he wants you like you want him.

“Hi, Sammy,” you say into the receiver. He breaths out.

“Hi,” he replies, all breath. “I’m three minutes away. I was going to wait until I got there, but I felt like I’d forget everything I wanted to say when I got there.”

“Everything you wanted to say?” you repeat carefully, hoping the things that he wanted to say aligned with the things you wanted to hear.

“I don’t know what I did, but I know I must’ve done something to make you stop talking to me. It’s a typical male cliché, I know, but I want you to tell me. I want to fix it.” There’s a whine in his voice that you’ve never heard before and, while you want to make it go away, you also really like the sound that it makes coming up from his throat.

“You didn’t do anything, Sammy,” you sigh into the phone, propping your head up in your head, your elbow buried deep in the pillow. “It was me. I had to stop.”

“If it was because of that kiss, I …” he trails off, as if unsure if he’s supposed to apologize for that night. “No, fuck that, I’m not sorry for that. I will say I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, but I –” You try to interject, unsuccessfully.

“It wasn’t that, I just –”

“I won’t apologize for thinking about that kiss every night for the last 5 years.” You go quiet, listening to Sammy breathe raggedly on the other end. “But I need to know.” He pauses for such a long time that you would’ve thought the call disconnected, if not for the static in the silence and the breaths that filled the dead air. “Did I go too far that night?”

After barely a pause, you answer. “No.” But you can’t convince yourself to say more.

“Then why did you push me away?” That whine resurfaces in his voice and you want to say anything to make it go away, because right now, it sounds a lot like hurt.

“Because I didn’t think I could have you.” A deep breath passes through your lips as you close your eyes. This isn’t really the conversation you wanted to have with him just now.

“Was it because I was leaving? Because we were both leaving,” he tries to explain the frailty in that argument, and he was right. It hadn’t just been him that was leaving you back then.

“Yes, that, but …” Your voice trails off, not wanting to finish that thought. This is the part where everything gets awkward, because these aren’t things you ever wanted to admit to Sammy. You didn’t want to tell him that he was way out of your league, or that he deserved someone better than you, or that you weren’t sure you could always give him what he needed. Because, yes, Sam was your exception, and you wanted him in ways that you wanted nobody else, but it might not always be that way. Sammy deserved someone who wanted to give him everything, always, all of the time. No strings, no exceptions, no restrictions.

“But what?” he insists gently, and you realize you’re going to have to spell it out for him.

“Sammy,” you say, your voice quivering. “I’m not pretty enough for you.” An angry breath comes from Sammy’s end just before the line goes dead. You hold the phone out. Call ended.

An impatient knock at your front door sends panic into your chest and you try to ease your shaking hands, but it’s unsuccessful. As you make your way to the front door, you try to smooth out the curls of your hair, you tug at your T-shirt to cover more of your legs, even though you have a pair of shorts on underneath. Sammy hasn’t ever seen you like this and it’s terrifying.

The moment you unlock the door, Sam doesn’t hesitate. His hands are against your face and he’s pulling you against him, and you let him. God, you let him. His lips eagerly find their way to yours and his tongue follows quickly after, exploring and tasting and moaning.

Jesus, the sounds from his throat are indecent. Obscene. The sounds your mouths make together are explicit. As he crosses the threshold to your apartment, he kicks the door closed behind him and pulls you back with him, letting you press him against the door. At first, you stop yourself from putting all of your weight against him, you ease back, but he’s ten steps ahead of you, and he’s already considered everything that might hold you back.

His fingers bury themselves underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding up around your ribcage and he tightens his grip. Your feet unsteady underneath you and you fall into him. He doesn’t make a sound other than the satisfied hum escaping through your joined lips.

“God, your skin is so fucking soft,” he breaths into your mouth just before he violently pulls the shirt over your head, only to let his lips travel down the expanse of your neck. You tilt your head to let him at whatever skin he wants to put his mouth on.

It turns out, Sammy is keen to put his mouth on every possible inch of your skin. Without letting his mouth part from yours, he walks you back toward your bedroom, and the two of you trip on everything in the path there. With every stumble, Sammy laughs against your lips, both of you working on unfastening the buttons of his denim shirt. Eventually, he sheds it on your bedroom floor, and you let your hands explore the uncharted areas of his bare chest.

His eyes stay locked onto yours as he coaxes you onto the bed, where he kneels with one of your legs in between his. As he leans down to slip his tongue into your mouth again, you feel him pressed hard to your thigh, and he curves his hips up to get more friction.

When his lips move down, kissing along the edges of your black bra, he slips his hands underneath you, unclasping the hooks of that bra. As he starts to pull it away, you hold it to your chest, a bright pink blush blooming in your cheeks. His expression softens as he places his hand over yours, leaning down to place a delicate kiss to your nose.

“I don’t get it,” he says with a soft laugh. His hands, with yours inside it, move up, until he has them pinned above your head. “How do you not see what I see?”

“What do you see?” you ask, a hushed tone that doesn’t sound like your voice floats out.

A smile crosses Sammy’s lips as he pulls away the fabric concealing you, letting his eyes flutter down your bare chest. At the sight of your uncovered skin, he darts his tongue out to wet his lips before pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, his pupils dark and wide. His fingers follow the path that his eyes forge for them and you arch into his touch at your breast.

His eyes glance up to meet yours again. “I see skin that deserves to be kissed until it trembles underneath my lips. Skin that forms a beautiful shape with hills and valleys and stories and songs. Skin that holds the soul of the woman I have been in love with for longer than she would ever believe because she is so stubborn,” he smiles, peppering soft, tender kisses to the skin he so poetically described. “Christ, is she stubborn,” he laughs.

“No more than you,” you pout playfully as he works to remove the rest of your clothes and you’re much less reluctant to let him. When you are laid bare, he sheds his own clothes and you marvel at the sight of him, sun-kissed and naked and absolutely fucking magnificent.

“I meant what I said,” he croons, his voice dropping deep as he circles around to the foot of your bed, his eyes lit with a new fire. “That thing about trembling, you know.” As he climbs onto the bed, he pushes your legs apart, wider and wider, kissing up your inner thigh.

“Sammy,” you caution. In your last relationship, this had never been very successful for you. You were afraid that trend would continue, and Sammy would get frustrated over it.

“Please,” he breathed out, warm and wet against your skin, and just his breath against you made you shiver in anticipation. You nod in agreement, and he spreads you open even further. Almost timidly, he pushes the very tip of his tongue into the open space between your legs, soft and slow and careful, dragging the full breadth and width of his tongue behind.

“Oh,” you breath out indecently, a rattled breath from your lungs, as Sammy’s tongue reached the crux of his ascent. Just like he promised, you tremble underneath him.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans, gripping your calf and you can feel him arching his hips into the mattress for a little extra friction. “God, make that sound for me again.” With his tongue widened, he drags it along the entire width of you, dipping inside, curling and uncurling within, fucking you with his tongue. He moves out, circling your entire entrance with his tongue, dripping and scorching, before lazily running over your crux, slowly, slowly, slowly.

You make the sound for him again. And again. And again. Those sounds get louder as his tongue increases in speed, feverishly, furiously lapping at your skin, back and forth, up and down, making tight, wet patterns with his tongue until you’re ready to come apart.

“Fuck,” he mumbles again, into your skin, sending the vibrations of his speech into your very core, and he pushes his tongue in with them, deep down until you can feel his lips pressed to yours. He purses his lips there, kissing you, his tongue still driving inside, and when he moans, it’s like an electric shock to your body.

“Don’t stop,” you call out, your voice feeling thin as your body finds the edge. Agonizingly slowly, he pulls his tongue up again, to the same throbbing, swollen skin, and he sucks at it, swirling his tongue within his lips. As you bury your first into his dark, wavy hair, he lays into a rhythm, daring to press two wet fingers into the depths of you. He pushes in and pulls out, matching the pace of his fingers to the rhythm of his tongue, fucking you hard and fast until your vision goes white, and every muscle tenses, and you call out Sammy’s name into the dark, waves of pleasure coursing through you until you’re throbbing around his fingers.

“Oh my God,” he moans, his breath still hot and sticky against you before he moves up, kissing every inch of skin in his path. “You come so fucking well. You look so good right now.”

When he gets to your mouth, you turn his head, pulling his earlobe into your teeth. “Fuck me, Sammy,” you whisper into his ear and every part of him goes limp against you, save one.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck, yes,” he mutters and moans, and you can feel him hard between your legs. He reaches down, swirling the head of his cock at your entrance for only a moment before pressing in, gently at first until his hips are flush to yours. His hips swell and break viciously, pressing into you with a zealous need over and over, his fingers kneading at the skin at your hip that you used to hate, but you can no longer hate it, for the way that Sammy caresses it.

He whispers into your ear, all the things you ever wanted to hear him say. You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted you for so long. God, I love you. I love you. I love you. And it’s been five years, but it feels like five days, and you’ve never felt this good about anything in your life.

When Sammy comes, his dark brown eyes roll back with his head, his neck craned so tight that you can finger that cord of muscle that meets in the center of his collarbone. The moan pulling up from his throat is like the thrum of a bass string, deep and harmonious and reverberating, and it echoes in your chest until you feel filled up by it, too.

When he comes down, he drags his hand through his hair, hair that is longer than it’s ever been, and it looks so much darker under moonlight. His fingers pull through the tangled mess of his hair and he lets them trail down his chest, down his waist, along his hips. Those fingers find your skin again as he pulls out with an indelicate, satiated moan, and he wraps you up in his arms, kissing the back of your neck. You feel sleep pulling, but you fight vehemently.

His words continue, the words that he had been whispering in your ear when he’d been buried within you, and you try so hard to listen, but your eyelids are so heavy now.

His speech turns to song, singing sweetly and softly, his lips brushing along the shell of your ear until you’re sure you could fall asleep at any moment. “You’re the one I want. You’re the one I need. You’re the one I had. So come on back to me.”

You dream about holding his hand and staying a while.

#greta van fleet #sam kiskza #smut #fluff #a little angsty #fic #request #Come On Back To Me

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