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#a good year for my writing
future-crab · 8 months
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The thing about TMA is that if I think about Sasha James too much I will cry and if I think about Michael Shelley too much I will cry and if I think about Agnes Montegue too much I will cry and if I think about Jonathan Sims too much I will cry and if I think about Naomi Herne too much I will cry and if I think about Gerry Keay too much I will cry and if I think about Tim Stoker too much I will cry and if I think about Jane Prentiss too much I will cry and if I think about Martin Blackwood too much I will cry and—
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Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 
It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 
And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 
The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.
They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 
There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 
And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 
So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 
And maybe they are, especially Astarion.
But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  
When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 
Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 
They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…
That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 
Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 
No, those people know nothing at all...
“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.
The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 
Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 
By now, he knows every step of this game.
“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”
Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 
Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 
“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 
“Want apple!”
Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 
“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 
The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 
She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.
Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.
“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…
The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 
Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 
Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 
But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.
Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 
The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 
He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.
“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.
Astarion pauses.
He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 
By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.
And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 
He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 
Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 
He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 
These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.
He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.
It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 
Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 
After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.
And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 
“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 
When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.
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mumblesplash · 8 months
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heartbreaking: this viral post is saying things you completely agree with in the most irritating way possible
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choccy-milky · 6 months
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NSFW comic ive been wanting to do for a while of seb getting…influenced…by the dark relic👀👀no idea how long its gonna be or how long itll take, so have a wip for now 🙃
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sugaurora · 4 months
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Dream Come True
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Since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.
Pairing: Med Student Seokjin x Plus Size Female Reader
Genre: Brother’s Best Friend; Friends to Lovers; Smut
Word Count: 16,800+
Tags: Profanity; Explicit sexual content; unprotected sex; Seokjin is a soft, sweet, gentle guy and I’m so gone for him, big dick seokjin, inexplicable amounts of cum???, dirty talk, cumplay, breastplay, oral (m and f), fingering, of course they kiss a lot because that’s my brand, brief blood mention, wound redressing
If you enjoy my writing, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi!
Crossposted to AO3 and Wattpad
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“Oh! Y/N? I didn’t know you were here, love.”
Ahh, there he was again—the man of your dreams. And you had to be dreaming because, thanks to the rules, Seokjin could only meet you alone inside your dreams. You heard him loose a light groan of frustration, his voice so close by you should have been able to reach out and touch him. The world of your dreams was still dark though, the always breathtaking vision of him not yet fading in.
“Your brother would kill me if I let you sleep here all night.”
Dream Seokjin was right. Your older brother, Yoongi, had laid down his law years ago: his best friend was off-limits. No dating. No kissing. And definitely no fucking. Understandably, he didn’t want anything coming between him and the bestie he’d had since kindergarten, especially not a sour relationship with his little sister just in case things went south. So the only times you found yourself alone with Seokjin were here inside your unconscious dreams. Thankfully, your mind was kind to you and let him visit often. Unthankfully, it was so kind that seeing the man during your waking hours was sometimes a little torturous. It was why, even though Yoongi had given you permission to crash in Seokjin’s bed tonight, you’d ended up on their uncomfortable couch instead. Better a stiff back than the torment of smelling your one true temptation all night long.
You heard a light pop as Seokjin clucked his tongue. “The pull-out’s been broken for weeks. How could he let you fall asleep here?” The scene of this dream still had yet to form in your mind’s eye, even though Seokjin’s sweet voice still sounded so temptingly close.
Jungkook liked to joke that you spent your spare time fucking out your frustration over the cockblock. As your best friend and roommate, he might’ve been a little right in analyzing your bad habits. Though it was rich coming from him, a masochist in his own right. A photographer with a keen eye for gorgeous men, he’d called your brother his ultimate muse since the first day they met. But like most people, Yoongi never gave him the time of day and Jungkook had been nursing a pining blueball of his own ever since.
At least being barred from pursuing the man you truly wanted had never left you shy about pursuing your sex life. Maybe the constant temptation of someone you couldn’t have made you much more likely to seek out satisfaction elsewhere. Even if it meant you were never truly satisfied, leaving a trail of fuckbuddies who still wanted a bit more of you in your wake. Your habits probably weren’t helping to convince your brother that anything between you and Seokjin would ever be a good idea, and even though you would’ve enjoyed a chance to prove him wrong, you loved Yoongi just enough to respect his wishes. Mostly.
Seokjin had always had a different allure from your usual flings. Your history together since childhood stretched long and had formed in you a crush that ran beyond skin deep. You’d gotten reckless more than once, losing your sense and attempting to buck your brother’s request. And time and again, Seokjin had proven he wasn’t interested. No amount of revealing outfits, spicy innuendos, or inappropriate proximity seemed to phase the man. Considering how Seokjin spent almost all of his time consumed with school anyway, you should’ve given up ages ago. If only that one memory would stop resurfacing and making you wonder at the what-ifs. Still, he never seemed to notice you in that way, never acted like he would be interested in anything romantic with you.
Dream Seokjin though? Oh, that was a different story. He was always interested.
“I’m going to take you to sleep in my bed, alright?” he asked in a gentle whisper as though he were sharing a secret. Seokjin’s unforgettable scent that you’d been trying to avoid invaded your dreams despite all your best efforts. Fresh cotton, earthy cedar, and that subtle, sweet scent of fruit that always clung to him surrounded you, making you curse your own memory for being so potent. Your dream finally faded into vision just as you felt the soft pressure of his fingertips against the back of your neck. You were still in your brother’s living room, though the space was dimly lit and all you could see were Seokjin’s bare, broad shoulders, his skin the color of rich honey, damp and glistening in the barely there light. His dark brown hair hung around his face, slightly heavy as though still a little damp from a shower, curling just above the dark-rimmed glasses he usually traded his contacts for at night. You groaned internally, unsure why your subconscious had intended to be so kind, yet so cruel for the evening.
“Hey, it’s just me,” he said in that same soft rumble, the edges of his familiar, plush lips curving into the gentlest of smiles. “Go back to sleep, love.”
Love. Seokjin had called you that for years. Sometimes, when your pining got a little out of hand, hearing the nickname stung. But he’d been you and your brother’s friend before anything else and, no matter how much he’d made himself scarce since starting med school, you had no doubt he truly did love you.
Suddenly it felt like you were floating, though that feeling was overshadowed by the radiating warmth of Seokjin’s bare chest. You felt the impression of him skin-to-skin as his arms hooked you beneath your knees, his large hand splayed against your back, the blanket you’d curled around yourself falling away. In the waking world, you’d never considered whether he was strong enough to carry you. Compared to your svelte brother, you had inherited a much plumper body type, all soft rolling curves, rounded wherever you could be. Seokjin may have been taller, but you were surely heavier. To be fair, Seokjin had never lacked in athleticism. He’d been a track star his entire college career and still spent more than his fair share of time sculpting strong, lean muscles in the gym. He said it helped strengthen his constitution so he would rarely get sick at the hospital and it gave him the stamina to focus for his long hours of study. It may have also given him a fair shot at lifting you without much difficulty. Of course, even if he couldn’t, in your dreams it wasn’t surprising that he could do anything.
You were curious how this strange dream would play out though. You’d spent countless nights dreaming of him in endless scenarios, from pirating on ships and flying through outer space to driving in race cars and solving crimes between the stacks at his university library. Sometimes he spent the dream pleasuring you in any way you could imagine and other times you went on nonsensical adventures together, ridiculous in the way only dreams could be. But in your current dream state, you couldn’t recall one quite as ordinary as this. You curled into him as he carried you, letting the delicious warmth and fresh air of his scent envelop you as he moved and enjoying the feeling of the flex of his forearm muscles against your legs.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” you heard him say in gentle reassurance.
Fuck. As if you hadn’t suffered enough that day, clearly the night intended to be torturous as well. The race track where you worked was a lot closer to your brother’s apartment than the one across town you shared with Jungkook. So you’d sent a pleading message, asking if you could crash on their couch for the night. Since Seokjin was spending a night shift at the hospital, your brother had offered you his friend’s empty bed. And since you’d needed to avoid that torture, you’d chosen to use their wonky couch instead to etch away enough of your exhaustion to be able to function like a normal human being in the morning. Yoongi’s room was quiet, his door closed when you arrived. So you’d showered away the funk of the day in Seokjin’s en suite and borrowed one of his oversized t-shirts, saying a thankful prayer for his massive shoulders because it fit perfectly.
It occurred to you too late that his scent likely lingered on the clothes, triggering your poorly buried desires. Now Seokjin was in your dreams, smelling like heaven and touching your bare skin. Any dream with Seokjin was a good dream and, just like any other, you intended to enjoy the fantasy as much as you could. But no matter how much you enjoyed it at the moment, your misjudgment in borrowing his clothes meant you were going to wake up horny and disappointed.
You hadn’t realized your vision of him had faded out again until you felt your body being lowered into soft, cushioned sheets and a new blanket being drawn up over your body. You heard Seokjin curse softly under his breath, the darkened vision of him fading in once again. Why was he so hot when he cursed? Perhaps because it was so rare? The room was lit only enough that you could just barely make out his broad silhouette at the edge of whatever bed he’d lain you on. Could see his bare chest not far away from you in the dark, planes of skin that you longed to touch so temptingly close. Scratch that. Why was he so hot in general? Your narrow vision slowly faded and you thought the dream might be ending already, your body quickly slipping back into a deeper sleep. Then you heard the faintest sigh and felt the surface just next to you shift, the weight of Seokjin’s body settling into the bed beside you. You felt soft fingertips stroke your forehead, brushing lightly against your skin.
“I really hope someone’s told you how pretty you are when you sleep,” he said quietly. He faded back in then, hand outstretched in front of your face, lips slightly parted as he stared down at you in a look of subdued reverence.
It was enough. Even if you were cognizant that this was all a dream, that none of it could ever be real, you didn’t want to let your chance fade. Understated as it was, it was honestly the closest to the real Seokjin you’d ever dreamed of; thoughtful, doting, and kind in the selfless way you’d appreciated about him your whole life, in the way it took you a long time to accept that you deserved. Slowly, you leaned up, watching his eyes widen slightly as you did so.
“S-sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll…” His words trailed off as you lifted your hand and pressed it against the side of his face, letting your thumb trace the soft skin of his cheek. He breathed in quick and sharp in response. Real Seokjin was visually striking. But the close-up of this dream Seokjin was starting to drive you mad. Between the level of detail your mind conjured, from the tiny mole just below his collarbone to the exact pink shade of his lips to the muscled lines of his bare chest, it was all enough to make you wish this fantasy would never end. Sometimes in these dreams, you kissed him roughly, took control of the moment, and loosed your sexual frustrations within the safest setting you had available. But since this Seokjin was so much more like the real one, tonight you wanted to meet him gently, experiencing a delicate pleasure you could never have in real life.
You let your lips meet his jaw first just below his ear, savoring the barely there shudder that rippled through his skin at the contact. You made a slow path of light kisses up and along the length of his jawline, savoring each time you connected with his skin. Finally, you let yourself indulge and pressed your lips firmly against the warmth of his mouth. You were happy you had taken your time to enjoy him. His lips felt the softest they ever had, better than your imagination had ever conjured before. You wondered if you’d wake up with one of Yoongi’s stuffy cardigans smashed against your face.
He didn’t respond at first and you worried you might’ve dragged the fantasy out too far, that perhaps the dream really was over, your brain overheating from bringing to life so much high-definition detail of Seokjin’s exquisite mouth. Then you felt a strong grip circling your waist, fingers skirting around to the small of your back and pressing you forward and into him. There was a shift in the bed underneath you as he leaned further into your kiss. Slowly, tentatively you felt his tongue seek lightly for entrance. You indulged, allowing this dream whatever access it wanted, not knowing when your subconscious would be this kind to you again.
You tasted the sweetness of his mouth as your lips parted, as Seokjin’s tongue grazed your own ever so lightly. He tasted like mint and sugar and you exhaled at the feeling of him pressed so close, your own hand still cupped just below his jaw, the raw pound of his pulse beneath your fingertips so surprisingly tangible. He breathed a delicate moan into your mouth and you felt him pull back just a little, still close enough that his breath ghosted against your lips as he spoke.
“We can’t…” he said, words tight and restrained. Because above anything else, Seokjin was a gentleman. A gentle man. He had never been anything but kind, fitting between you and your brother’s rash abrasiveness like a soothing gel. This close, you could see the desire floating in the rich, dark brown of his eyes, belying his words. Even here in your unconscious mind you knew this was wrong, that you weren’t allowed to be with Seokjin in this way.
You let your next kiss be your answer. Here, you could. Here, in the safety of this fantasy, you could have each other exactly as you wanted. As you greedily took up his lips again, as he responded with a greed of his own, tongue meeting yours, hand at your back pulling your body closer still against the bare of his chest and causing the blanket to slide away from your body, you knew you’d be masturbating to the fantasy of this kiss for weeks to come.
Seokjin’s light touch came to rest atop your thigh as he kissed you, sending sparks skittering against your bare skin and up between your legs. Since you’d only been able to find one of his t-shirts, you’d gone to sleep on the couch with that on and nothing else. And it seemed that had transferred to your dreams, his fingers dangerously close to the hem of a shirt with nothing underneath. Since your brain had put so much energy into recreating every detail about him, conjuring up pants likely wasn’t high on your subconscious’ list of goals.
“Y/N,” he said softly, pulling away from your kiss and instead brushing his lips against your cheek. “You’re not drunk or something, are you?”
You laughed air through your nose. What a weird thing for a dream to say. Though, what a very responsibly Seokjin thing to say. You pressed in for another deep kiss, desperate for yet another taste of his tongue. You wondered what you had eaten during the day to deserve a dream so vivid, so satisfying as the taste of him filled your mouth, the smell of his freshly washed body, the clean scent of his shampoo and soap filled your senses so strongly you would swear he really was right there with you.
Your own hands traveled down, fingers tracing the defined lines of his bare chest, over each of the stomach muscles he had chiseled to perfection. And hurriedly, before your alarm knocked you out of this bliss, you slid down to cup the firm impression of him on his lap that your kissing had produced, warm even through his shorts. It had always helped to fuel your dreams knowing how enormous his cock was. You’d seen the thick outline of it enough times over the years, straining against his basketball shorts or sweatpants, to know it was more than enough to satisfy you, to be able to imagine it well enough in your dreams.
“Y/N,” Seokjin moaned softly into your mouth and hearing your name in his voice, in that sensual and yet almost embarrassed quality you had never heard before sent a throbbing ache between your legs. His hand shifted from your thigh, fingers sliding upward to squeeze gently around your breast through the soft cotton of his shirt. Ok, maybe not weeks. As his thumb brushed lightly against your nipple. As his body began shifting, leaning you down into the bed. As his mouth got hungrier, intensely kissing you with a baser passion. As you felt his knee land between your legs, felt it press against the bareness of your heat there, you decided you would be getting off to this dream for months, maybe even years.
“Seokjin,” you panted, though your voice sounded too real, too raw, too desperate. Dream you never sounded like that.
He pressed his teeth ever so lightly into your lower lip in response. His hand moved from behind you as he laid you down and gripped your thigh, likely intending to reposition you beneath him for a new, more erotic purpose. You’d never get to know how or why. You hissed in response as his fingers closed around your fresh injury of the day and a sharp pain shot through your thigh, cracking through every layer of pleasure that the dream had built.
“Y/N?” Seokjin said in a panic, body instantly off yours, sitting back on his heels and staring down at you in shocked concern. “What is it? Are you alright?”
You froze. You felt your body seize up, fear blocking out the pain for a moment. Seokjin froze too. You stared up at his face in the dim light of his bedroom, at the dark hunger still swimming in his eyes even as worry set in, the flush in his too-warm skin, the bruising swell on lips you’d studied for years. At the blankets of his bed folded back beside you both. At the wall behind him lined with his collectibles and rows of medical books. At the clothes you’d forgotten to grab after you’d showered, left in a messy pile at the edge of the dresser just outside his bathroom. At Seokjin in front of you.
Seokjin. Real Seokjin. Your brother’s best friend since kindergarten Seokjin. Real Seokjin whose hand had been squeezing your breast, whose hard cock had been pressed against the palm of your hand, whose tongue had been dancing inside your mouth.
“Y/N?” he asked in a nervous breath, cementing the reality in front of you.
You gasped and jumped back until you ran into the headboard behind you. Seokjin was off the bed immediately.
“Shit, shit, I knew it. You’re fucking drunk. You don’t taste drunk.” His eyes widened at the implication of his own words, hands flying to his lips, then to his hair, ruffling his fluffy strands. “Shit, I’m so sorry! Fuck!”
It was so strange to hear Seokjin, who was usually so soothing and patient with his tone, spout off in this panicked cursing. The absurdity knocked you out of your shock and a sharp pain faded back in, forcing you to reach for your thigh again. You felt a warm dampness and looked down, noticing dark red had begun to seep through the flimsy bandaid you’d stuck on after showering.
“What…what happened to your leg?” Seokjin asked as his gaze followed yours down. You watched as his years of training began to overtake his panic at the other situation. “Wait. Let me get the first aid kit.” He was out of the room before you could say another word.
What the fuck had just happened? You replayed the events in your mind with a new, awake perspective. You had fallen asleep on the couch. Seokjin found you on the couch and brought you in here to his bed. But you thought it was a dream. You kissed him. It would be so embarrassing except…Seokjin had kissed you back. And as far as you could tell, he wasn’t drunk or half-asleep. He’d definitely kissed you. His hand had definitely just been squeezing your tit, right?
He returned with the first aid kit and, after switching on the lights, he set to work, peeling off your band-aid and assessing your cut.
“This happened at work?” he said with a disappointed huff.
You shrugged. “It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. Accidents happen.”
His grimace deepened, though the downturn only rounded the plush of his lips and drew your mind back to his kiss. “I already worried about you before when you worked at the shop,” he continued. “Now you’re already getting hurt at the track.”
That was enough to make you peel your eyes away from his lips and stare out across his bedroom instead. Unlike your brainy brother and his best friend, both of whom had run to medical school as fast as they could, you’d followed your childhood love of cars right into mechanic repair, much to your parent’s chagrin. It didn’t always pay the bills, so you’d picked up odd jobs over the years—barista, fitness instructor, delivery driver. But finally, finally this year you’d landed your dream job—working on race cars. You’d been at the track all day, getting to know the team and the workings of the raceway, and spent half the time touching cars you’d only ever watched in videos. It had been all your fantasies realized until another careless rookie somehow sent a tapered awl careening in your direction. Luckily, it had only grazed you before pinging off the lifted tire chassis just behind you and skittering to the floor. Still, it had sliced right through your jumpsuit and left you with a nasty cut on your thigh. After tightly wrapping it in some clean rags, you’d powered through the rest of your day, but by quitting time your body was at a new level of exhaustion. It was why you’d ended up here in the first place.
This new job meant everything to you and Seokjin knew it. Hell, he’d been there with Yoongi and Jungkook to celebrate when you’d gotten the offer. You didn’t want to admit it, but it hurt hearing that he didn’t approve after all, especially when you were so used to him being the first to back up your decisions, no matter how unorthodox.
“Hey, don’t misunderstand me,” he said and you forced yourself to look back in his direction. His eyes still didn’t meet yours though and you hissed a little as he rolled antiseptic onto your cut. “I know you’re passionate about what you do. I didn’t mean I thought you should stop. Just that I worry. I’ll take care of you no matter what, but I just want you to be careful out there, alright?”
“Take care of me?” you laughed. Seokjin was studying specifically to be a pediatric doctor. “You take care of children, Seokjin.”
His eyes finally slid up to yours and there was something new and unreadable floating within them. The sight sent a nervous shiver prickling down your spine.
“I know the adult body too,” he said quietly.
Your eyelids fluttered as his words flew straight down to your core and Seokjin looked down again, hands stretching a proper bandage. He patted the side of your thigh, encouraging you to lift so that he could wrap it properly.
“Why are you here?” you asked as you adjusted for him. “Yoongi said you had a shift at the hospital tonight.”
Seokjin’s eyes went wide for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued to bandage your thigh. “Low patient census so the preceptor sent most of us home. Your brother didn’t tell me he’d told you to come by so I had no idea you were here. I guess I walked right by you when I came in.”
Finally, he finished his work on your leg and you noticed the reddening blush spreading across his cheeks. You realized your repositioning for the bandage had given him a clear view between your legs, where you currently wore no panties. You lowered your leg and Seokjin repacked the first aid kit, determinedly looking anywhere but at you. You pulled the blanket across your lap in a belated effort to spare him the discomfort. You may have been confident in your body, and you may have craved Seokjin in a very carnal way, but forcing him to unwillingly stare at your vagina wasn’t high on your list of seduction tactics.
“I’m really sorry about earlier,” he said, voice wavering with embarrassment. “I hope you know I’d never, ever take advantage of you, especially not when you’re under the influence. There’s no excuse for-”
“What?” you questioned, cutting him off. “Seokjin, I’m not drunk.”
He paused, blinking up at you in confusion. You sighed, deciding it would be best to just be honest about it.
“I dream about you sometimes so,” you paused, chewing at your cheek for a few seconds. “So I thought I was dreaming.”
His face screwed up in disbelief, his perfect eyebrows pressing far too close together. “That doesn’t make it any better!” he whisper-shouted, voice pitched a little higher. He glanced at the doorway, then scrubbed a hand across his face. “Yoongi is going to absolutely murder me.”
He reached down to gather up the first aid kit and backed off of the bed, rushing to head toward the exit.
“Wait,” you called out after him. He was clearly uncomfortable and part of you wanted to let him leave if only to help him feel a little better. But Seokjin had kissed you back. His hands had been ready to explore your body in the dark. And after spending the past few years thinking you’d imagined him ever having a moment’s interest in you, you couldn’t let the night pass without at least finding out the truth. “What if...what if I want to keep dreaming?”
His footsteps slowed to a stop and he stared at you from just before the doorway, studied you for a long moment, the tips of his ears slowly growing redder.
“What about Yoongi?” he asked, voice quiet and sincere.
You blew out a laugh, though you could hear your nerves in it. “Well, I mean he’s not in my dreams. My nightmares maybe.”
“No, I mean...he said...and you…”
You patted the bed in front of you, encouraging him back to the space he’d hurried away from a moment ago. “What did he say, Seokjin?”
Seokjin stayed silent for a few seconds, staring back at the doorway as though it was his only path to salvation. You watched his free hand clench into a fist then slowly unfurl as he flexed his fingers and reached for the door, pushing it closed with a click that seemed to signify something definitive. He tossed the first aid kit onto his dresser and turned to face you on the bed, choosing to lean back against the wall instead of joining you among the covers.
“That no one’s good enough for you. That he thinks no matter who you finally settle for, they won’t be good enough for you.”
You blinked. Your brother had said that? The same one that gave you a hard time for dating or sleeping with whoever you liked? For not being ashamed of how much you liked to have sex? The same brother that shit on every reckless choice you made, whether it paid off or not?
“You’ve been off-limits to all our friends since you were in middle school,” Seokjin continued, rubbing a nervous hand along his arm. “I’ve even heard him threaten a few after they snuck out of your room.”
Alright, so maybe Yoongi had been a little more overprotective than you’d been aware of. But he’d also told you directly to stay away from Seokjin. Had he told his friend the same thing about you?
“What about you? Did he say I was off-limits to you?”
Seokjin hesitated. “Well, no, not in so many words.”
“Then why do you think that includes you too? You’ve been his best friend forever.”
“Would I stay that way though if I had an interest in his little sister?” he asked, though it sounded like it wasn’t the first time the question had come up for him. “I guess I’ve always been too chickenshit to find out.”
You held back a laugh. “If anyone isn’t good enough in this situation, it’s both of us for you.”
“What are you talking about, good enough?”
You shrugged. “You’ve always been the nice guy who’s friendly with everyone. You’d give the shirt off your back to any stranger who needed it,” you said, trying to focus on the conversation and ignore the fact that currently Seokjin had no shirt on to give away to anyone. “Yoongi and me, we…we’re the too blunt, too direct people that everyone avoids. We’re lucky to have someone like you in our lives. Someone that finds us tolerable.”
He chuckled softly, fingers stroking lightly under his chin in a moment’s contemplation. “You know, I wouldn’t even be in medical school if it wasn’t for you.”
“You mean if it wasn’t for Yoongi?” you tried to correct. After all, they’d applied and gone through this far together.
“No. I mean you.”
You cocked your head in confusion and once again patted the bed in front of you. On the practical side, it felt like the kind of conversation you should be having closer together. And on the emotional side, you suddenly wanted Seokjin within your reach, to seek comfort in his touch now that you were finally having this conversation.
Seokjin bit his lip for a moment before moving slowly toward the bed and sinking down in front of you, crossing his legs in front of him and facing you.
“You’ll remember I wasn’t the most confident kid.”
“You?” you asked in surprise, then slowly nodded in agreement after a little more thought. “Alright, I guess that’s true, though you’d never know it now.”
“Awkward, nerdy, thick glasses, more bad haircuts than a kid should be forced to live through.” He sighed. “It was rough there for a while.”
You giggled, memories of each of those haircuts rolling through your mind.
“When I got to high school I really wanted to make a change, to join a sport and make more friends,” he continued. “I thought track would be perfect for my build and stamina, but I was so scared to be teased or bullied, especially if I wasn’t any good. I remember Yoongi being home sick and me coming to walk you home from school. I told you I wanted to chicken out of the tryouts the next day. Yoongi would’ve told me to suck it up and just go. And I wanted so badly for you to tell me it would be okay to just give up.”
The memory of that conversation resurfaced in your mind too. And with it, one of a long list of your very poor life choices. “Oh, no.”
“Yeah,” he said with a stifled laugh. “You took off running. Telling me to catch you. Running right into traffic.”
You put an embarrassed hand to your mouth. Yes, you were only in middle school at the time, but your sense of self-preservation should’ve been much stronger than to make a decision like that.
“It uh…it made sense to me at the time?” you said with probably not enough mortification.
Seokjin let out a warm laugh, as though the memory was less terrifying and more heartwarming.
“I’d never run so fast in my life to get you out of the middle of that street. That multi-lane street,” he groaned. “We definitely almost died at least three times before I got you across and onto the sidewalk. And I remember you staring up at me and saying-”
“See, you’re a really good runner,” you said slowly. Seokjin breathed another laugh and his face warmed as his smile spread.
“Yeah. You were there for my tryout too. I remember all the adults getting upset at how loud you cheered like it was a football game or something,” he chuckled. “I made it in because of you, love. I got scouted because of you. And that track scholarship was the only reason I got to go to college in the first place. It’s the only reason I get to have this career that I already love so much.”
“Well, there’s tons of dumbass kids like me that are gonna need a doctor like you, especially if they don’t have any track stars there to rescue them from their mistakes.”
You both broke out into laughter at that and the sound of it filled Seokjin’s bedroom, warm and comforting like the perfect cup of tea on a cold winter morning.
“I forgot all about that,” you said, wiping away a tear from the corner of your eye. “You never even told me off for being an idiot and running into traffic. You just kept saying…”
“Be careful,” he said in the same soft, patient voice you’d been listening to since you were a kid, deeper, more mature now, but with the same soothing quality. Even then, even when you’d almost gotten both of you so seriously hurt, Seokjin was too kind a spirit to muster any scolding beyond looking after you.
“So if anyone needs anyone, it’s definitely been me that’s needed you. That’s not the only time you’ve been my much-needed confidence booster,” he said. You noticed then that he’d clasped his fingers together, fidgeting as he rubbed them against each other. “And I…I definitely find you more than tolerable.”
You took his cue, sliding forward across the bed until you sat just in front of him and slipping your hands between his. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, of course,” he murmured. He glanced behind you for a moment. Or maybe he was trying not to focus directly on your face when he spoke. “So you, uh, you really dream about me?”
“Oh, all the time,” you said casually. It was out now, so what was the point of being coy about it?
Seokjin blinked and scrunched his nose in the endearing way he always did when he got nervous. “I’m kind of afraid to ask what they’re about.”
You flicked through images in your head, some of which were enough to bring a little heat even to your cheeks. But you supposed it was now or never.
“A lot of things. We’ve been on a lot of adventures. Done plenty more stupid things. But most often? I dream about what it would be like to go on a date with you. To kiss you, cuddle with you. Put your enormous cock in my mouth. Sit on your dick.” You looked down at the plain, soft T-shirt you wore. “Though, in my dreams, I’m usually dressed in something a bit more flattering.” You glanced up at Seokjin before you continued and bit your tongue as you watched his eyes slowly widen. He’d always appreciated your straightforwardness, but this level of honesty may have been a little too far, regardless of how true.
Seokjin’s deep groan echoed lightly around the room.
“Wow, love. Your dreams sound a lot like mine. Even your clothes.” His eyes flicked down to your body draped in his shirt. “Especially in my clothes.”
You blinked, feeling happy, and yet a little frustrated at the admission. “I’m so confused. You haven’t acted interested at all in all this time.”
He actually snorted. “I couldn’t show it. I’ve had to run away from you so many times. Every time you wear something short and let me see those delicious thighs for free. Every time you lean over to smell my cooking and I fought with my own DNA to take my eyes off your chest. Every time…well every time you’re around I go a little more insane honestly. I use school as an excuse, but that’s not the only reason I can’t be around for very long when you come over. You’re so hot it makes my dick hurt.” He groaned again. “I’m ashamed of some of the places I’ve had to rub one out just to get you out of my head.” He pulled his hand away from yours, placing it over his mouth as though saying the words had burned him on the way out. “It never worked anyway,” he mumbled through his fingers.
Oh.
“It can’t just be Yoongi that kept you from telling me this. How come you’ve never said anything?”
“I…I didn’t think I was your type. Race cars, tattoos, cigarettes, bar fights. Not guys who don’t know anything about cars, who spend every weekend studying, gaming, or working. Not…me.”
Now it was your turn for reminiscing. “You remember my eighteenth birthday?”
“Yeah, of course,” he said. You didn’t miss the newest rosy blush that sprouted across his cheeks.
“I’d spent half the day arguing with my parents about going to auto tech school, not even knowing if they were going to kick me out over it. It was the most miserable birthday of my life. And then you and Yoongi took me on that midnight boat ride.”
Seokjin’s smile returned as you recalled the memory, brightening up his whole face. “You caught the biggest fish I’ve ever seen. I’ve never been so put to shame before by someone who’d never been fishing a day in their life.”
“And then we came back and climbed onto the roof and you guys had baked me a little cake and you sang me happy birthday under the stars. It was…perfect.”
“Yeah,” he said, voice noticeably smaller, smile turning a darker shade of reminiscent.
“Seokjin.”
“Yeah?”
“You kissed me.”
He stayed silent, worrying his plump bottom lip between his teeth.
That night, your brother had gone inside to get you all drinks. Seokjin’s long frame was sprawled out next to yours on the roof, bodies comfortably close as you both stared up at the star-dotted sky. He’d told you that he never doubted you’d always get exactly what you dreamed of. And that he and Yoongi would be there for you to support you down whatever path you wanted to follow. And then he’d sat up, his beautiful face hovering just above you against the glittering backdrop of stars, and given you the softest kiss, hot in a way that seared through your every layer, imprinting itself on your soul. You’d threaded your fingers into his hair and melted into his kiss and tasted the sweet of cake frosting and happiness and him. Your brother had come back just after you’d leaned apart and, though you’d never been able to forget it, neither of you had spoken about it since.
Seokjin hung his head, seemingly weighed down by the recollection. “It was the next day that Yoongi told me no one would ever be good enough for you. I never knew if he saw us or if he could just tell how close I was getting to you and he didn’t like it. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to ruin anything, so I…I just backed off.”
You nodded. “I don’t think it was long after that that he told me you were off limits too.”
“So see, even I’m not good enough for you, Y/N.”
“Seokjin, you’re not just Yoongi’s friend, you’re mine too,” you said, a little more defensively than you meant. “You know that right?”
“Of course I do, love,” he said hurriedly. He lifted your hands then, planting a soft kiss against the back your yours.
“You’ve supported me my whole life, through every misstep and triumph and doubt you’ve always been there for me. Studying, gaming, working, and being a great friend. I don’t care about all that other shit. I care about someone who’s kind to me, who respects me, who likes me for who I am exactly as I am. That’s my type. And that’s always been you.”
“Always will, love,” he said quietly, punctuating his words with another kiss to the back of your other hand.
“So,” you started, a little emboldened by his touch. You leaned toward him with a cautious grin. “You kissed me and then spent all these years running away from me only to go rub one out, huh?”
He groaned and pulled one hand away, pressing it against his mouth as pink blossomed in his cheeks again. “Why did I tell you that? That’s so embarrassing.”
“Oh, I want to hear more,” you said, sure your grin had turned mischievous. “I told you about my dreams. Tell me what else we do in yours?”
He swallowed and you watched as thoughts he’d clearly buried for a long time resurfaced on his face. He rubbed his fingers nervously against his lips and his eyes betrayed him, drifting slowly down to land on yours.
“I spend a lot of time dreaming about your mouth. Kissing you for hours. Biting your lips. Tasting your tongue. Though I suppose I’ve had some of that experience now.”
You leaned forward and met your lips to his again, starting out with the lightest press to test that he still wanted this. You felt his lips part slightly, felt him lean into the kiss, and you sank into him further. You swiped your tongue slowly across his lower lip and just as he leaned into you, preparing to reach for more, you pulled away. Seokjin looked a little dumbstruck, exhaling softly as he stared down at you, fingers of the hand still gripping yours clutching you tighter.
“Dreams can’t compare,” he said breathlessly.
You chuckled and sat back on the bed, slipping your hand from his and widening the space between you. It was selfish, but the look of desperation that flashed across Seokjin’s face as he watched you move away was worth it.
“What else?” you asked teasingly.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, or maybe to taste what you’d left behind, and a wave of heat swept across your skin as his gaze drifted lower on you.
“Kissing your neck.”
You leaned your head to one side, encouraging him to come and take an active part in his fantasy.
Seokjin didn’t hesitate, sliding forward on the bed this time and meeting your mouths together again. He cupped your cheek as his lips moved away from yours, kissing down your jaw until he landed on your neck. He kissed the skin there so lightly, so tender, and the effect was brand new for you. You had never had someone turn you on with so little while making you feel so precious. He kissed down to the base of your throat, pulling aside your shirt so his lips could roam across your collarbone, and finally returned to your neck with another tender kiss that became a slow lick that became a teasingly soft bite. Your mind was spinning at his achingly slow contact and you couldn’t hold back, letting a soft moan escape your lips. The sound seemed to shake Seokjin from whatever spell he’d been drawn into and he leaned away slightly, warm breath ghosting across your now damp skin.
“Keep going,” you encouraged, arousal already thick in your throat.
“I dream about touching you everywhere, beautiful,” he confessed, his own voice gone husky with his desire. “Your body drives me insane. You do.”
“So touch me, Seokjin. Just like you dream. I want you to.”
You nudged his face up, capturing his lips in another smoldering kiss. His hand moved up then, sliding under your—technically, his—shirt and cupping the full swell of your breast in a gentle squeeze. His other hand joined a moment later at your other breast and you arched into his touch, sighing contentedly into his mouth. He leaned back and released a shaky breath as his lips parted from yours. You started to pout until you felt the tug of him lifting your shirt, sliding it over your arms and off of you. His lips went back to your neck, maddening wet kisses pressed against your throat as his hands found your breasts again. He teased your nipple in slow circles with his thumb and you could feel his smile against your neck as your breath hitched in response to each stroke, wider still at the soft moan that broke free as he gave one of them a light pinch.
His satisfied groan rumbled against your neck. “If you knew how often I dream about putting your fantastic breasts in my mouth,” he said, tone gone dark and syrupy. His lips traveled down your neck again, your chest, a trail of hot kisses against your skin until he reached your breast and took a slow lick at the nipple he’d pinched. His hand still gently caressing the other, he circled the tender bud lazily with his tongue, leaving you panting, body arching into him.
“Your whole body. You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he said, making a wide, wet swipe with the broad of his tongue before pulling in your nipple again in a gentle suckle. You slid a hand forward, burying your fingers into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and tipping your head back. Your body trembled at the sensation of his mouth on you this way, naturally arching into his touch as he satisfied cravings you’d held close for so long.
Seokjin swapped breasts then, wrapping his lips around your other nipple and freeing his hand to travel further down your body. He caressed the soft of your belly and settled on your uninjured thigh, giving the thick of you there a firm, hungry squeeze.
“Touch me. Please,” you begged immediately and although he technically already was, you had a feeling Seokjin could tell exactly where you wanted to feel him right now. He hesitated for a moment, hands and tongue slowing to a pause. And though every part of you was aching for him, you waited for him, waited for his decision on how far he wanted this to go, ready to meet him where he needed. You felt his resolve harden as his hand continued its path downward, squeezing your inner thighs before finally sliding between your legs. Immediately, his fingers met your bare heat and the wetness that had been building since your kisses had first begun.
“Y-you got this wet for me?” he panted against your nipple.
“Seokjin, you’re the hottest man I’ve ever known. You’ve been shirtless the whole night, kissing me and sucking on my nipples and calling me beautiful. Yes, I’m fucking wet for you.”
Seokjin lifted his head from your breasts, angling up instead to kiss you, the firm warmth of his chest pressing against your own as his fingers stroked your wetness, back and forth. You inhaled sharply as he swept his fingers across your sensitive clit, breathing more of Seokjin, thinking that you could never tire of his tongue exploring your mouth again and again. You would never get enough of tasting him, of kissing him, of being this close to him. You slid your arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer as his fingers alternated between stroking your aching slit and making slow, agonizing circles around your swollen clit.
“Hottest you’ve ever known, hm?” he said, breaking from your lips.
“You already know it, you just like having your ego stroked,” you offered back, though your words had a needy edge thanks to his busy fingers. “Got your hairstyle under control and we haven’t been able to stop you since.”
Seokjin only chuckled shyly. Though it was true that his confidence had grown to a healthy level over the years, his humility had grown along with it. Which was why, even though he knew what you said was true, and even though his fingers were between your legs, he still had the beginnings of a new blush spreading across his cheeks at the compliment.
Finally, he sank his fingers inside you and you leaned forward against him, burying your head in his neck and panting a whimper that ended in a fragmented moan. Seokjin paused his movements, much to your disappointment, and made a nervous glance back at his bedroom door.
“I think Yoongi and his date are asleep in his room,” he said softly into your hair.
His date? Yoongi hadn’t mentioned he had a date over when you asked if you could come crash. His bedroom door had been closed, so you’d assumed he was already asleep when you got here. You clenched down involuntarily around Seokjin’s fingers inside you and decided you really didn’t want to think about your brother at the moment.
“It’s alright,” you said. You reached down and cupped Seokjin’s hand with your own, pressing his fingers deeper inside you. “We’re only dreaming, remember?”
With another shy laugh, Seokjin curled his fingers, sending a ripple of pleasure through your body and coaxing another of your moans into the little dip just above his collarbone. His mouth found a new home at your earlobe, licking and biting softly as he found his rhythm in the wetness of your pussy. His other hand hadn’t forgotten its mission, not-so-gently squeezing the soft flesh of your breast and rolling the firm sensitive bud of your nipple between his fingers.
Before you lost yourself entirely to his touch, you reached down for him through his shorts, this time slipping your hand past the waistband and finally curling your fingers around his cock. He was so hot to the touch, the skin soft and smooth in an almost jarring way compared to how hard he felt. As you palmed the veined length of him slowly, you accepted that your imagination was highly inaccurate; Seokjin was more enormous in your hands than your dreams had ever managed to capture. You tried hard to focus your movements on him, but between his thumb circling your clit, the pads of his fingers rhythmically knocking against that sweet spot inside you, and his damn mouth, wet and teasing on your ear, you felt overwhelmed, only managing a few half-hearted strokes as your pleasure rapidly threatened to spill over.
“Seok…”
It hit you before you were ready, his name interrupted by your shuddering moans as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into you. Seokjin didn’t let up, his fingers still stroking back and forth as you rode through your climax, his tongue still circling your ear. Once you finally stopped trembling he slipped his hand from between your legs and leaned back a little, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead. You looked up to meet the dark, polished amber of his eyes. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear the smile on his face was just a little bit smug.
“You’re so sensitive, love,” he said, purring the words like a satisfied cat.
“You seem a little too pleased about that,” resisting the urge to nuzzle your face into the warmth of his neck.
He stroked the fingers of his dry hand along your shoulder and down your arm. “I wanted to make you feel good.”
You pulled yourself up onto your knees and motioned for Seokjin to move further back toward the head of the bed. He obliged and you kneeled between his legs, leaning forward to kiss his lips. Seokjin’s hands went to your hips, but you backed away a little, instead kissing down his neck, pathing along his chest until you reached one of his dusky brown nipples. You teased the tiny bud with your tongue, listening to his soft whimpers at the attention. You pressed down on a soft bite and smiled at Seokjin’s responding half-moan, half-exhale.
“I’m not the only sensitive one,” you said. Seokjin only chuckled lightly in response and placed his fingers atop your head, making a gentle stroke across your hair.
You backed away again and curled your fingers under the waistband of his shorts, sliding them down past his hips. You blinked for a few moments, unsure when your hands had frozen in place in your mission to finally disrobe him. You just remembered staring, your mouth falling open at the sight of the biggest cock you’d ever seen, bobbing tauntingly against well-defined abs and the sluttiest slim waist.
“Y/N?” Seokjin asked, and the strained concern in his voice broke you from your reverie.
“S-Seokjin,” you managed to stammer, though you didn’t tear your eyes away from his lower head. “No wonder you’re so ripped having to carry this around all day.”
He breathed out a shy laugh.
“Your dick is…” Magnificent? Insane? The biggest, most glorious, breathtaking cock you’d ever seen? It all felt ridiculous and yet…the right words wouldn’t surface. Maybe there weren’t any words good enough. Yes, you had seen plenty of cocks, but apparently, you had never seen the cock until now.
It took you a second to realize his hands were moving down, trying, but naturally failing to hide his third leg. “You don’t have to…” he mumbled. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable so we don’t have to…”
You blinked, still working through your shock. Nothing in your imagination could’ve prepared you for this. But as his words finally sunk in, you looked up at him in confusion.
“Uncomfortable?”
“Yeah. It’s…some have said that before. So you don’t have to. It’s okay.”
“Are you kidding?” You brushed his hands aside, taking in the thickness, the deep pink of it, the tantalizing pearl of precum pooled at the tip that had you all but salivating. You wrapped your fingers around him and gave his full length a long, satisfying stroke and he whimpered at the movement. “I want nothing more.”
Seokjin’s hands were still close by yours, his gaze once again drifting past you.
“I just…I don’t know that I can…that I’m...what I mean is I haven’t really…”
His sudden communication struggle left you feeling unsure of what signal he was trying to get across. As much as you didn’t want to, you took your hands off of him.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
“I want to!” he said, then bit his lip in embarrassment at his own enthusiasm. “Believe me, I want to. I…”
You let his words marinate, taking in the concern now pressed between his eyebrows.
“You’re worried you won’t fit? Because yes, your cock is massive, but I know you’ve studied enough anatomy to know that I can get you in me with no problem.”
“I just don’t want to hurt you.”
You wanted to tell him you couldn’t wait for him to hurt you, but something about the uncertainty etched across his face had you changing your trajectory for once.
“You won’t hurt me. I don’t know what happened with your other partners, but we’ll go really slow, alright?”
Even with that, Seokjin still looked unsure. As kind as he was, it sometimes came at the cost of him hesitating to say what he really meant for the sake of others. Luckily for him, you’d never suffered from that affliction.
“What else? You’re worried…because I’ve had a lot of experience and you haven’t had much?”
He nodded.
“I do like sex, Seokjin.”
“I love that you enjoy sex. I love that you live so fully in your own body. I’ve always loved that about you.” His eyes drifted downward, settling on the sheets next to him, though you had a feeling he was looking at nothing beyond his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m messing this up. I’ve just thought about you for so long that I…I’m kind of terrified to disappoint.”
You leaned down, laying next to him and curling your body against his long frame. As you settled into the curve of him, Seokjin wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close against him, warm bare skin to skin.
“I mean, on the whole, sex is just sex,” you said. “And based on the fact that you’re even worried about it, I guarantee you’ll give me a better experience than anyone else.”
He made an unconvincing nod, turning his face to kiss your forehead once, twice, again. He was nervous, you could feel it radiating off of his skin, see it in the tightness of his jawline, and thanks to years of reading his moods, you could feel the hesitation in the air around him.
You spoke softly into the crook of his neck. “There’s no one else in this dream, right? Just you and me.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
“You know me. And I know you. So there’s no pressure, no expectations. We can just enjoy being me and you, yeah?”
He turned to face you, finally focusing his eyes on yours. You waited, stared back into the beautiful brown of his, and let him search for whatever answer it was that he needed. Finally, he leaned forward, kissing you again, sweet and slow. He leaned away for a moment, slipping off his glasses and tossing them onto his nightstand before joining his lips with yours again. You sighed into his kiss and Seokjin’s arm wrapped around you tight as you kissed, and kissed, and lost yourself between his lips.
“I want you, Seokjin,” you panted when you finally broke away for air. “I want you so bad I can’t think straight.”
“Want you too,” he said in quick response, then immediately sought out your mouth again, tongue dancing with yours for what might’ve been hours. You both lie there, tangled in each other’s arms, kissing and making up for lost time and seeking solace and building trust together.
You hadn’t realized your hand had found its way back to the hard length of him until he gasped lightly into your mouth and you felt the heat of him in your grip. You nodded at him, making sure it was still what he wanted. When he nodded back, you slid your leg over his hip as Seokjin rolled onto his back. You leaned down to kiss him one more time, then up again as you lifted your hips to find the best angle to guide his enormous cock into you.
As the tip of him met your aching entrance, you had to remember to temper your eagerness with the reality that you would probably need to go very slow to adjust to the size of him. Between how wet he’d gotten you with his fingers and the glide from his ample precum, there was hardly any resistance as you slid him inside you. Except for…
“Fuck,” you hissed. “Your cock is so fucking big, Seokjin.” You had barely gone past the head, but it was already a tight fit. Seokjin hadn’t responded and you looked up to find his focus between your legs, watching as he slowly disappeared inside you. Plush lips slightly parted, he was already panting and looked about three seconds away from losing his mind.
Desire renewed, you lifted your hips and used the slick of you to slide down a little further. Your tactic worked, slipping in as much as you could handle, backing off, and slowly sliding him in again, his cock a little wetter from you each time. You took him slow inch by slow inch and feeling the gradual stretch of him inside you was almost as satisfying as watching Seokjin’s eyelids flutter as you sank down onto him. It took a little time and patience, but after what felt like a million inches later, finally you met the base of his cock.
“Holyfuckingshit,” he whined, words barely recognizable as they slurred together. You watched the knot in his throat bob, veins in his neck straining, head lolling back.
You had never been so full in your life. Even without moving, the feel of him pressing against your walls, taking you right to your limit, had molten heat collecting at the base of your belly.
“See? You’re just right.”
He finally leaned forward, staring up at you with half-lidded eyes. “You feel so good around me, love.”
You pressed your hands forward, finding your balance against his abs and slowly rocking your hips, moving the thick length of him in and out of you. Even at the slow pace, your breath grew shaky, the full stretch of him against your dripping pussy already tightening the coil inside you.
“So tight, beautiful,” he said, voice scratching low between his panting breaths. “So good.”
Seokjin’s hands slid up your thighs, landing on your hips as you guided yourself up and down. As your pace picked up, he quickly began to unravel. His grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into the soft of your skin. And slowly, his whimpers became throaty moans that rippled through you like little arcs of lightning, rolling in time with the press of him deep inside you, knocking against each perfect sensitive spot.
“Are you okay?” he asked between quick breaths.
“Better than ever. Please don’t stop.”
The mattress had begun to squeak lightly beneath you both as your rhythm built, but considering Seokjin’s dark stare, the expanse of his pupils taking in your bouncing body as if you were his own personal sunrise, you thought he’d long since lost any concern about what anyone outside this room might hear. You pulled one hand back to circle your clit, speeding you toward what felt inevitable.
“No, let me,” he said and for a moment your passion-addled brain wasn’t sure what he meant. He leaned up, lips closing around one of your breasts, tongue teasing your nipple. Then you felt his hand leave your hip and nudge yours aside. His fingertips grazed your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure to send your head spinning.
“Seokjin…fuck. I’m close,” you said, spilling the words out over your moans. You tilted your hips forward just a little and shuddered as the new angle had Seokjin’s cock hitting you in the perfect spot.
“Y/N,” you heard him pant between your breasts and hoped the adjustment was just as good for him. “It’s been…it’s been a while for me.” He leaned back his head and you looked down to see the muscles in his neck flexing, teeth clenched in his effort to hold back. You weren’t so far behind him that it would matter anyway.
“Okay. It’s okay.”
“No…condom,” he managed to grit out.
As if you wanted it any other way. Your only response was to squeeze down, impossibly tight around him, and Seokjin’s growling moan let you know he got the message. His fingers tensed where they gripped your side and he sat up further, lifting his hips and thrusting his cock into you with a renewed force. The plush of his mouth met your neck, your jaw, and finally, your lips again.
“Not without you, beautiful.”
He leaned back into the mattress, taking you down with him, lips never parting from yours. His free hand slid to cup your ass as he thrust his cock in and out of you faster still, his fingers between you circling your clit. You slid your hands up into his hair, gasping between drags of his lips and the moans pouring out of you every other breath. Each time his cock slid deep inside you could feel the cliff’s edge looming, the dizzying height leaving you a little afraid of the drop.
“Come for me, love,” he breathed inside your mouth, voice deep with a decadent richness you could almost taste. “I’ve dreamed about it so many times. I want to hear what you really sound like when you come on my cock.”
It was over for you. You moaned his name and perhaps a few expletives as your orgasm crashed into you, body quivering against him as pleasure rippled through your core and out to every corner of your being.
“Y/N,” Seokjin panted as he fucked you through every wave of your orgasm. You felt his hips shudder and tasted the growling moan on his lips as he buried himself deep inside you and finally spilled everything he had. His orgasm seemed to last for ages and you rode along with his every thrust and hip roll, your body close to teasing another tip past the brink as you drank in his pleasure.
Eventually, you felt his hips relax. He stared up at you, lips parted, shiny and inviting, eyes half-lidded and watching your body as it bobbed gently from the matching effort of both of your breathing. He slid both his arms around you, pulling you forward against his chest into an enveloping hug.
“Am I too heavy?” you asked, lips brushing against the searing skin of his neck.
“Don’t you move an inch, love.”
You lay there on top of him, planting soft kisses against his neck, surrounded by his intoxicating smell, mixed with the heady scent of sweat and sex you’d both created. You still felt so full even as he slowly softened inside you, the feeling of his cum leaking out around his cock adding to your satisfaction.
“So much better,” he whispered, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the side of your face. “Better than I’ve ever imagined.”
Finally, you felt his softened cock slip out of you and an unexpected, warm gush followed, sending a noticeable dribbling mess down your inner thighs.
“Holy shit. Do you always come this much? Though, I guess with a dick that big…”
His fingers roamed down your back before making a soft stroke across your ass. “You felt so good, love. I couldn’t hold back.”
“Well,” you say before playfully grazing your teeth against the skin of his neck. “You’re not done with me yet, are you?”
“I…I...” he stammered.
You let your lips brush against his cheek. “Unless you’ve had enough of me? No more dreams you’ve been dying to fulfill all this time?”
The hand at your ass paused and Seokjin bit into his bottom lip. Watching him sort through his thoughts with such a familiar, endearing habit was starting to melt you a little from the inside. It drove home how much you had missed spending time with him, that your busy lives and mutual pining had kept you apart far too much over the years.
“I do like you on top, but I’ve…I’ve thought about you a lot from behind too.”
Oh?
“Behind?” you said, both amused and pleased at his sudden straightforwardness.
He went quiet and you lifted your head, giggling as he tried to turn his head to hide his embarrassment.
“Seokjin, come on. You really don’t have to be shy about telling me how you want to have sex.”
“It’s not the sex. It’s…it’s you. I never planned on telling you how much I was into you and I…”
You quieted him with a light kiss.
“And since when have you been such a planner? Aren’t you the one who taught me to live a little without thinking to be happy?”
That got a laugh out of him. “I think I taught you a little too well, didn’t I?”
You nudged his shoulder in mock offense, even though he was probably right. “My point is, don’t worry about whatever you planned. It’s me. And you know me. So you know I want to hear everything. Just tell me.”
He hesitated again, having another of those internal battles, and you waited for him to decide how much he really wanted to share.
“Iwanttoburymycockinyouandwatchyouramazingassbounceagainstme,” he let out in one long, strained breath. He risked a nervous, sidelong glance at you once the words were out, gauging your reaction to his admission.
“Let’s get you ready then,” you said simply, following up with another kiss. Seokjin’s hand gripped your ass and you knew he intended to keep you right there, indulging in your lips while he hardened between your legs. But you’d already decided on other plans.
You sat up and turned your body to face away from him, meeting instead with the sticky mess that was his now wet, shiny cock. It fell limply to the side of his thigh, though even softened it was an impressive sight.
As you ran your tongue across the head, meeting the salty tang of the mixture of your arousal, Seokjin whimpered quietly from somewhere behind your ass. You smiled to yourself and took it as a sign to continue your work. You could admit to yourself that it was a selfish move since he’d clearly wanted to make out with you. But if one of his biggest fantasies was hitting you from the back, one of yours was definitely getting his cock in your mouth. Why not satisfy both goals tonight?
It didn’t take long for his length to start to thicken in response to the caress of your tongue. Gripping him at the base and slowly inching your mouth down him as much as your jaw would allow, the satisfying moans you coaxed out of him let you know that he was more than happy with your choice. Seokjin’s hands were on your ass and thighs as you worked, squeezing and stroking your skin between his slowly increasing breaths.
“Is...Is it weird that I like watching my cum drip out of you? It’s so hot.” He groaned. “You’re so hot, Y/N.” You felt his fingers spreading your pussy wide, felt another dribble of the mess he’d made leak again from inside you. How on earth was there still more?
“N-no, of course not,” you panted at the stimulation. “It turns me on more how attracted you are to me.”
“Look at you. My cum is still coming out of you.” His fingers spread your lips further apart and you felt a soft gush as more leaked from inside you. “I want to fuck it back inside of you, love. I’ve never been this turned on in my life.”
You moaned at his words. “I…I never thought you would talk to me like this.”
“Sor-”
“Don’t you dare apologize. I love it.”
You’d intended to go back to choking on his cock, but your plans were interrupted, a full-bodied moan tumbling from your lips as Seokjin slid at least two of his thick fingers inside your cum-soaked pussy.
“H-hey,” you breathed, though it didn’t stop the teasing rock of him inside you. “I said this was about getting you ready.” You let your hand continue where your mouth couldn’t, fisting his wet cock in a firm squeeze and coaxing another soft moan out of him.
“I was ready as soon as you got your lips on me, love. If you keep going much more, I’m probably not going to come where you want me to.”
You made a teasing wave with your ass, swaying back and forth in front of him. “Go where you really want then.”
Seokjin slipped his fingers from between your legs and slid from underneath you, positioning himself onto his knees behind you. As his hands landed on your hips, you felt another inexplicable dribble of his cum run down the side of your thigh. In as many partners as you’d had, you’d never had this kind of experience before.
“How long has it been for you that you had so much cum to give me?”
“It’s not time. I always…it’s always a lot. I’ve always been that way. If you like it…let me fill you up, beautiful.”
He bent forward and planted a light kiss on your shoulder that made you shudder, his lips slowly pathing their way down your back. You felt the bed shift beneath you and one of his hands leave your hip, and then the erotic press of the thick head of his cock between your folds.
You pressed your hips back in response and with all the lubrication he met no resistance. His cock slipped inside you and you leaned down a little into the bed involuntarily, raising your ass toward him, weak at the feeling of him inside you again at this new, satisfying angle.
Seokjin’s movements started slow and gentle, his thrusts hesitant as though you still needed time to adjust to the size of him. But you were far past the need for gentility. You wanted this man and his mammoth cock to turn your insides out.
“You can be rough, Seokjin,” you said, catching the desperate edge in your voice. It was taking all the strength you had not to slam yourself back into him, but this was Seokjin’s fantasy and you didn’t want to take over. A little guidance would have to do.
You looked back at him over your shoulder. He took a few moments to respond and you watched as he resurfaced from what seemed like a very deep focus on your rear end.
“…What?”
You licked your lips. “You wanted me from behind so you could watch my ass bounce, right? I bounce more if you fuck me. Hard. I like it.”
Seokjin groaned, fingers tightening the grip on your hips. “Shit, Y/N. You can’t talk to me like that.”.
“No? I’m just following your lead. You don’t like it?”
“I...I like it too much.” He breathed out in frustration. “I’m already ready to blow again because of your mouth on me, your pussy around me. Now your words too. You drive me crazy, love.”
“So don’t be gentle with me then. I can take your cock, baby. Fuck me, please?”
The moan you exhaled as he finally pressed himself into you to the base echoed around Seokjin’s bedroom. He pulled himself out and forcefully pushed back into you, this time letting his moans match with yours. As he found his pace between your legs, the music of the room only grew louder: the gasping breaths and satisfied whimpers between you both, the sticky, wet noises of your slick as his thighs met your ass again and again, the quiet squeak of his mattress in time with the movement of his hips, and the thrum of your heartbeat in your throat as he buried his cock deep inside you, filled you to your limit over and over.
As his hands made bruising grips on the thick flesh of your ass, you arched your back, letting go of yourself as he guided you closer and closer to your limit. Instead, Seokjin took the opportunity to pull you up toward him, the surprising change in angle making you clench down, though he continued fucking into you all the same.
“My cock fits in you so nicely,” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot on your skin, voice a dangerous new level of addictive. “Keep squeezing me just like that, beautiful.”
You whined as his teeth sank into your earlobe, as one of his hands made its way to your breast, cupping it in his hand and teasing your sensitive nipple between his fingers.
“What…” you breathed, your brain finding it a little difficult to form words between all the stimulation. “What happened to staring at my ass?”
“I can feel your ass. Your whole body.” He planted a long kiss on your neck and another on your shoulder. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”
His lips found a home on your neck, kissing, sucking, licking, and driving you mad. You felt the searing, sweat-lined heat of his chest against the skin of your back, the light pinches and caresses as his hand kept up its toying with your breast. His other hand made its way between your legs, fingers swirling around your clit, and the coil of pleasure building inside you warned that it wouldn’t last for much longer.
“Am I fucking your pussy hard enough, love?” he asked softly, breath tickling the skin he’d left damp. “Will you let me hear you come on my cock again, baby, hm?”
Your head was spinning, hardly able to believe your ears. “Kim Seokjin. You have a filthy fucking mouth. I’ve never heard you talk like this in all the years I’ve known you.”
“You’re a bad, bad influence, love. Answer my question?”
“Yes, Seokjin,” you breathed, leaning your body back against his and surrendering to everything he was offering you. “Yes, I’m so close. Please.”
“Please what?” He pressed his lips against your skin and you could feel the spread of his smile there. You lifted a hand, cupping the side of his face.
“Please don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he whispered. “I won’t.”
And true to his word, he didn’t. Your eyes rolled back as Seokjin’s vigor renewed, his cock pounding into the perfect spot inside you again and again and again, his thighs hitting your ass with enough force that your breasts shook each time he buried himself inside you, his greedy fingers rolling back and forth across your swollen clit, calling every ounce of your pleasure to him. It was all too much, the edge of release taunting you from a breath away.
Seokjin made a sudden half-groan, half-cry and your eyes fluttered open at the sound.
“Fffffuuuu,” he hissed, letting the curse trail off as his hips made you quiver. “Your pussy is squeezing me so tight. I..I…”
The guttural sound of his pleasure cresting, raw and vulnerable, was what finally sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed into you, shockwaves rippling through your entire body. Seokjin clung to you, hips jerkily thrusting his cock inside you as you squeezed down and milked every drop of seed he filled you with. Your hands went to meet his, gripping him just as close as you rode through your satisfaction together.
You’d never felt so full in your life. Even with him still buried to the hilt inside you, you could already feel hot cum leaking from around his cock, your womb overflowing. Seokjin held you for a few minutes as your breathing slowed, kissing your neck, your chin, your cheek. When you finally slid yourself from his grasp, your exhausted body leaned forward and collapsed ungracefully onto the bed. You felt all used up in the best way possible.
“Shit,” you heard him mutter from behind you. You glanced back to see him staring down at your ass, likely mesmerized by the mess he’d left there. You lifted yourself onto your knees and used the last of your energy to wave your rear end teasingly for him, hoping he could enjoy the show.
“I want to burn this image into my brain,” he said, swallowing hard, the knot in his throat jumping. “It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life “
You glanced back at him, biting into your bottom lip suggestively. “So take a picture.”
He blinked. “W..what?”
“Go on. I want you to look at it later and think about me.”
“I…” he didn’t continue, mouth hanging open instead.
“No plans, remember? Go on,” you encouraged. Seokjin was off his bed a moment later, grabbing his phone from his nightstand and angling it toward your ass. You turned away, not necessarily wanting your face in the picture, but if he minded that part he didn’t say anything.
You heard his phone land somewhere on the bed with a soft puff a few seconds later, his arm suddenly sliding underneath your body.
“Come here, love.”
He helped you up onto your feet and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight hug. Respectfully, neither of you had anything to say about the inconceivable amount of semen currently dripping down your thighs and leaving tiny drops on the floor at your feet. You nuzzled your face into his chest, content to be in his arms again.
“You’re amazing, you know that right?”
“Yeah, I do,” you said with a confident giggle.
He put his fingers to your chin and tipped your head up, kissing your lips this time with a deep satisfaction, as though he’d finally accepted he’d left you well pleased.
“I could probably fuck you again in five minutes if we keep this up,” he said after finally leaning away from your lips. “But I’m also tired as hell.”
Oh yeah. That was what you were supposed to be doing right now, getting some rest. Your own exhaustion hit you then, reminding you that even mind-blowingly good sex couldn’t make it go away.
“You’re about to pass out. Let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep, love.”
You tilted your head. “You could tell?”
He tapped your nose lovingly with the tip of his finger. “I’ve known you since you were two. I’d be ashamed if I couldn’t. You’re about to fall over on your feet. Come on.”
After a quick shower in his en suite involving a healthy amount of sweet kisses and Seokjin palming your ass like he never wanted to let go, you were spent. Truthfully, you could’ve fallen asleep on him, standing there soaped up under the spray of the warm water. He’d gone out to change his sheets while you toweled yourself off, and while part of you wanted to do some kind of mental recap of the night’s events, the majority of you just wanted to find the sleep you’d been searching for before all this had begun.
You walked out of his bathroom to find him throwing a fresh blanket over the bed. His eyes flicked to you as he noticed your movement, lips lifting in a half-smile as he brazenly admired your naked body.
“So, can I still sleep in your bed?” you asked, your voice husky with your fatigue.
Seokjin’s smile turned warmer, spreading across his beautiful face. He crossed the room and lifted you into his arms just as he had before, carrying you to his bed and laying you down in his sheets. Only this time he climbed in next to you, pulling you into his arms. He reached up and turned out the lamp on his nightstand before burying his face in your hair.
“I forgot how exhausted I was,” he said with a sigh, heavy with contentment.
Reaching up for him in the dark, you slid a finger across the plush of his lips. “Even tired, you still have such a dirty mouth when you fuck.”
“Y…Y/N…”
“Sweet dreams,” you said with a quiet giggle, settling into his arms and let yourself drift away surrounded by the scent, the warmth, the feel of Seokjin.
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You rose from sleep on wings of pleasure.
Seokjin’s body was curled against yours, warmth radiating from bare skin to skin. You felt his breath at your neck, felt his stiff cock pressing against the curve of your back. And most importantly, you felt one of his greedy hands kneading the soft flesh of your thighs while his other arm was wrapped underneath your body, hand cupped beneath one of your breasts making gentle squeezes. You felt him between your legs, not quite grazing your sweet spot, but close enough to ignite the beginnings of wetness he had been coaxing while you’d been slowly waking from sleep.
“Nn…Seokjin?”
“Good morning, beautiful,” he purred into your ear, and if you had only been a little wet before, the sound of Seokjin’s morning voice full of gravel and desire had just taken you the rest of the way. You arched your ass back against him, savoring the rumbling groan he made in response to the contact.
“Good morning yourself.”
He pressed a kiss into your neck, grinding his cock against you, and his hand squeezed at your thigh again. It felt good to wake up in Seokjin’s arms like this, to have his attention so fully, to know he was this attracted to you. But no amount of teasing morning dry-humping could’ve prepared you for his next direct request.
“Can I eat your pussy, love?
You froze, unused to having someone ask the question rather than either avoiding the act entirely or diving in as they pleased. Although, considering what he’d said about his past experiences…
“Has…has someone told you no before?”
“No, I just didn’t want to assume that you…” He trailed off and you felt his face dip a little lower into the crook of your neck. “I wanted to wait until you were awake,” he mumbled.
You barely managed to stifle a giggle. “We had sex half of last night. You really think I wouldn’t consent?”
“You could change your mind,” he said, the pout in his voice vibrating close against your skin. “I wanted to be sure.”
You turned over in his arms. Backlit by the orange and yellow beginnings of sunlight peeking in through his blinds, the sight of Seokjin this close threatened to take your breath away. His dark hair was still roughly tousled from the night and an interesting mix of sleepiness, arousal, and embarrassment hung in his eyes as she stared down at you. You let loose a half laugh before pressing your mouth to his in what you hoped was a confidence-inspiring kiss.
“Yes, Seokjin,” you whispered against his lips. “I’d love it if you ate my pussy.“
He didn’t waste any time, face lighting up at your permission. A quick kiss to your lips was followed with another to your neck, your collarbone, traveling slowly down your body until you felt his warm breath on your slit. You were already aching for him as his hands gripped each of your thighs, careful not to touch your injury as he spread them apart and gently kneaded with his fingertips.
“So pretty,” you felt, more than heard him say, the vibrations of his deep voice at the apex of your thighs. Looking down and watching him between your legs, Seokjin’s handsome face staring at your core with such reverence, you felt more aroused than you had in your life, tempered by a bashfulness you hadn’t felt in years. Only he could do that to you, make you feel like someone so sacred over something so erotic.
He first met your lower lips much like he would your upper ones, a gentle kiss against your folds that sent a satisfying shiver up your spine. Soft kisses turned to slow, teasing licks, gentle grazes with his tongue that coaxed quiet sighs out of you. Your body relaxed into the sheets, the tension in your muscles evaporating as Seokjin somehow used his mouth as a painter would, turning you into a masterpiece all his own. This felt so new somehow. Something that was usually so hard and fast, that others wanted to get out of the way. Not Seokjin. Not patient, meticulous, giving Seokjin.
When his pillow-soft lips finally landed on your clit, you whimpered in pleasure, your fingers reaching out and sliding into his hair. But there was nothing hurried in it, nothing taut. Only feeling, craving, only the slow, sensual build of something earthly and carnal.
Sunken so deep in the bliss he was giving you, you hadn’t registered the sound of your lustful moans until Seokjin’s fingers tightened against the flesh of your thighs. You realized only a moment before falling that he had no intention of satisfying you with anything besides his mouth. And suddenly your body bloomed with light, with heat and a pleasure like you’d never known. You lifted your hips as your orgasm vibrated through your body and Seokjin’s tongue met you through it all, lapping up your release with eagerness.
He kissed along your inner thighs as you came down, up the soft, round of your belly, lingering at your breasts before finally meeting your mouth with a long, satisfying kiss.
“Where the hell have you been hiding those pussy eating skills?” you asked in a breathless whisper when your lips finally parted.
“No skill,” he said, and you could hear that hint of smugness in his smile. “You just taste delicious, love.”
“Bullshit,” you said, but Seokjin only slid to your side and hugged you close in response, his noticeable erection pressing once more against your lower back.
After a few moments of letting the afterglow settle, you moved to get out of Seokjin’s bed. Before you choked on his cock again, which you fully intended to do, you were in desperate need of a glass of water. But his arm around your waist only tightened, holding you back. He pressed a light kiss to your shoulder.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said, words humming against your skin. “I don’t want to wake up yet.”
You raised one of your hands, laying it on top of his at your waist. “I’m just going to get a drink. What makes you so sure I won’t come back?”
“Will you?” he asked, and a breathless vulnerability hung between his words. “I mean, I want you to, but…” He huffed in frustration. “Look, I know this was only meant to be a dream, but it wasn’t just sex for me, Y/N.”
You turned over in his arms, making sure to meet his eyes as you spoke.
“You think I only dreamed about you for sex? You were in my dreams, Seokjin, not just your dick. You and your terrible jokes, and pretty smile, and brilliant brain. You, the kindest person I’ve ever known. You, my friend. I only dreamed about you so much because I never thought I’d really get to tell you just how much I like you.”
“I like you too.” His words came out rushed and you both laughed at the awkwardness.
You sighed. “I can’t believe I really spent all this time thinking you weren’t into me at all.”
“I did kiss you, you know.”
“Yeah. And then never again. I…I guess I didn’t know what to think. With Yoongi’s warning maybe I thought…I thought you didn’t like me after that or something.”
His fingers reached up, trailing along the skin of your arm in nonsense circles. “I like you,” he repeated slowly. “If you…want to try this, I’ll talk to Yoongi, so…”
You pulled his hand away from your arm, sliding your fingers between his. “We’ll talk to him. My brother’s an asshole, but not usually without good reason. Now that I know this is mutual between us, I want to know why he decided to try and keep us apart all these years.”
“Now that I get to kiss you, I don’t know if I care.”
“Does that mean you’ll stop kissing me like you’re not sure?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You’ve been hesitating, holding back.” You put your free hand to his cheek. “I’ve been kissed by you before, remember? I know what it feels like when you really mean it.”
Not one to ignore a request, Seokjin crushed his lips to yours. There was a new eagerness in his mouth this time, tenderness and need and the hint of starlight that you remembered. Your thumb stroked his cheek as he drank deep from your lips, as he finally made you believe in this kiss.
“Does this also mean I’ll get my friend back?” you said after you’d finally parted.
“Hey, what? You never lost me.”
“I kind of did,” you argued. “You buried yourself in school, I started working a hundred jobs and…I miss us. I miss late-night karaoke and video games and watching terrible movies until the sun comes up. I miss telling my bad ideas to someone who isn’t just as reckless as I am, aka Jungkook, or someone who won’t call me an idiot and walk away, aka Yoongi. I miss cooking and playing sports together. I miss…you. So much, I didn’t even realize it.”
“I miss you too. I’m sorry, Y/N. I got so focused on trying not to cross a line with you, I accidentally pushed you away.”
He pulled your fingers from the side of his face and kissed the back of your hand lightly a few times in continued apology.
“Do you have work today?” he asked.
“Later tonight, yeah,” you lamented. “You?”
“Nothing. Studying.”
“Well, I’d be happy to lie in your bed on days you study,” you offered to lighten the mood. “I’ll only distract you about fifty percent of the time. Maybe give you a little stress relief.”
His other hand gripped your ass, giving your cheek a healthy squeeze. “I’d better keep studying at the library, and you’ll be at the race track most days anyway. But I’d be happy to have you ass up on my bed on nights when you’re free. And…maybe a date here and there?”
“Is that you asking me out?”
He gave you a blushing nod. “If you want to see where this goes.”
You responded with a tight hug. “Of course I do.”
“And I want to hear about all your dreams,” he said shyly. “Learn everything you like.”
Your mouth was at his again and there was no more hesitation in his kisses, finally fully indulging in you, fully accepting that you wanted this with him.
“Is this going where I think it’s going?” he panted against your lips.
“Only if you promise the same as the kissing. You don’t have to fuck me like you think I want you to.”
The steel hardening in his dark eyes as he stared into yours sent electricity skittering across your skin.
“I wouldn’t fuck you then. I’d make love to you.”
A warmth settled in your chest at those words, unwrapping something new and exciting and yet so familiar between you both. “Do that then, Seokjin. Please.”
There was nothing left to say. Seokjin’s lips were on yours, his hands at your hips, molding your bodies into one blazing point of heat. He rolled on top of you, knees gently pressing your thighs apart, the thick tip of his cock finding your soaked entrance easily. Without ever parting your lips he was inside you in one dizzying thrust, thick, and long, and hard, and buried in you so deep you thought you might faint. Both your moans mingled with the wet of your kisses, as his cock paced slow alongside your pleasure. You slid your arms over his broad shoulders, burying your fingers in the thick, dark hair at the nape of his neck while your body turned to jello beneath this man you loved so much.
Just like with his kiss, this was on a different level. You’d had plenty of sex before. Hell, you’d had sex with him just last night. This was an entirely different experience. Seokjin rocked his cock in and out of you with slow decadence, highlighting each second as its own special moment, as something to be treasured.
“Seokjin,” you found yourself whining, finally pulling yourself from his kiss, gasping for breath.
“Yes, love?” he said, voice honeyed and thick. “Tell me what you need.”
“You,” you breathed, not even sure what you were saying anymore. “Just you. Please.”
A growl escaped him and he buried his face into your neck. “Every time you say please to me, I lose a little more of my mind.”
“Please,” you rasped again, barely able to catch your breath, your grip in his hair feeling a little less anchoring, a little more desperate.
Seokjin’s hands slid under your hips, tilting them slightly and driving him inside you deeper, knocking against the very spot that made you cry out louder for him. The grind of him against your clit as he sped his thrusts inside you and the echo of his deep moans sent you on a spiral, chasing you toward an end you didn’t know if you could handle.
“Love,” Seokjin said in the gentlest whisper just beneath your ear.
It was your name. It was what you shared with him right now. It was the feeling you’d had for him your whole life, what you’d been missing for too long, what you craved with him more than anything. It was that single word that lit magic within you, your body trembling, Seokjin’s name tumbling from your lips as you came undone beneath him. He leaned to capture you in another kiss and swallowed your cries as you came, groaning into your mouth as he met his own release alongside you, as you clenched down tight around his cock, as he spilled inside of you and your womb swelled again with his seed.
Finally spent, he slid his body off of you and you felt the now familiar warm gush between your legs as his cock slipped from between your legs. He pulled you close, kissing your cheek gently, though you could still feel the pound of his heart against his chest as it rose and fell.
“We’re going to have to start putting a towel down or something,” you said as the mess he’d left behind started to collect again underneath your bottom. “You only have so many sheets.”
“I can buy more,” he said simply. “I want you dripping for me every time, love.”
With as much as he came, that wouldn’t be a problem.
“I never want my cum anywhere else but inside you ever again. Your pussy, beautiful. I need this pussy.”
You giggled and nuzzled your face into his neck. “There’s that filthy mouth again.”
Seokjin only chuckled in response and pulled your body closer.
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After a visit to the bathroom, and borrowing a new shirt and a pair or shorts, you left Seokjin to once again clean up and headed into the kitchen to hunt down a cup of water and maybe get some coffee started.
On the upside, a pot of coffee was already brewing as you walked in. On the downside, it was Yoongi you found standing in front of the kettle.
“Sounds like it was a good night. And morning,” Yoongi said flatly.
“In spite of you, yes,” you quipped. Yoongi shrugged. Immediately your suspicion meter was rising. No smartass comment? No irritated huff? He looked almost...embarrassed?
“Oh.”
You heard Seokjin in the hall followed by a second very familiar voice muttering a quick, “Sorry.”
You turned to find a shirtless Jungkook walking alongside Seokjin toward the kitchen. You whipped your head in Yoongi’s direction, but he refused to meet your eyes.
“What the fuck?”
“I knew it’d happen sooner or later. You idiots are actually perfect for each other, you know?” You hadn’t missed that your brother was avoiding one topic in favor of the other.
“Then why’d you keep us apart all this time?”
“He was scared,” Jungkook offered. “He didn’t want to lose either one of you.”
“Shut up, Kook.” His eyes narrowed and you could see the reasoning wheels of a future psychiatrist turning behind them. “You two weren’t ready for each other yet. Y/N, you were still figuring your shit out, you barely had your own two feet under you. Jin, you’ve barely made time all throughout college to look at other people, let alone date someone. I didn’t want to be the third wheel without knowing the whole thing wouldn’t break down. I knew I had to step in after I saw you two trying to suck each other’s souls out on the roof. I figured you’d work it out when it was time.”
You and Seokjin exchanged a shy glance.
You’d probably never say it to his face, but Yoongi was right. If you and Seokjin had gotten together all those years ago, would either of you have been ready? Would you have lasted through the stress, the struggle of navigating your newly adult lives?
“Well, it looks like there’s four of us now,” Jungkook said with a smile way too cheerful for the moment. You snickered at your friend’s post-coital joyfulness, though how he’d managed to get past your brother’s defenses would have to be a long conversation later. Considering he was supposed to be at an important photoshoot all day yesterday, he’d better have a damn good explanation for how he even ended up here.
Seokjin pulled a pan from the cabinet, giving it a tiny spin in his palm.
“Breakfast?”
You leaned across the counter while Seokjin pulled another skillet from the cabinet and Yoongi started rooting through the fridge.
“So,” you said to Jungkook, leaning your face casually against your hand. “Did you take any good pictures yesterday?” you asked, barely holding back your smile as you watched the tips of Seokjin’s ears go a vibrant red out of the corner of your eye.
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Taglist: @firesighgirl @yoosmekihyun @persnyako​ @angelsuni-ficwrecks @ikuyootori
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stuckinapril · 3 months
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I will entrench myself in literature this year no matter what the fuck it takes
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muffinlance · 1 month
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DELIGHTFUL news: you know that charity auction I put a prompt in? The winner asked for the next Dark Night in Ba Sing Se installment. So. That's officially in the works. Next part stars the cabbage man, Toph, and Zuko's deep and compelling hatred for The Guard Hat. Look forward to it! Outlining in progress.
Also! I am so close to finishing Scaled Over. Like, three short scenes and an edit read close.
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starry-bi-sky · 21 days
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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of
Flesh and bones and they're all scared of
A lost little boy who has lost his heart
Fear's not enough, they have to
Tear him apart —-------
There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 
He’s adopted.
He can’t remember anything else before that.  
‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 
What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 
When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.
(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 
The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.
It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 
The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 
His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.
(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 
(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 
They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  
(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)
Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 
He turned back around and went inside.
—-------
Where do we go
When the river's running slow
Where do we run
When the cats kill one by one
—------
One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  
He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 
It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 
He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 
Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 
(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)
After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 
He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.
—------
Hazel beneath our claws
While we wait for cerulean to cry
Unsettled ticks run through time
Enough for the hunt to go awry
—-----
There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 
He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 
Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 
(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 
(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  
He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 
A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 
He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 
His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.
Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   
—-------
Harpy hare
Where have you buried all your children?
Tell me so I say
—-------
When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 
Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.
He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.
Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 
(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)
(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)
(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  
—--------------
It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders
And they will never
Hear me here listen to croons and a calling
I'll tell them all the
Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow
Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare
—-------
More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 
Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 
His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 
They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 
It is a fast dream. 
His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.
His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 
The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 
The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 
His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 
(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 
—---  
She can't keep them all safe
They will die and be afraid
Mother, tell me so I say
(Mother, tell me so I say)
—-------
When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 
The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 
(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 
(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   
Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 
(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)
—------
Seeker, do you ever come to wonder
If what you're looking for is within where you hold
Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path
You'll soon forget
Home
—---------
When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 
When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.
‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 
He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.
He ends up calling himself Phantom. 
(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 
----------
Home is where we are
Home is where you are
Home is where I am
-----------------
Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#amnesiac danyal al ghul au#songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart#musician danny has my heart and soul#yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks#implied good mom talia al ghul#danyal is a momma's boy send tweet#dpxdc ficlet#dpxdc prompts#dp x dc au#dp x dc fanfic#danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au#no beta no edits we die like danny fenton#poc danny fentons#i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense#ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later#morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it#since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous#phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe#not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him
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gingiekittycat · 5 months
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Headcanoning that Crowley invented plants so that no one could live without the light from a star
Headcanoning that Crowley designed the Garden before he Fell
Headcanoning that God kept the design with one small addition of a tree in the middle called the Tree of Knowledge as a slight at Crowley’s thirst for answers
Headcanoning that Crowley's angel name was "Eden"
and God kept the name too
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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Smell Check [Easy: Failure]
MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 1 (part 2 - part 3)
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#disco elysium#MDZS Disco Elysium AU#So sad I didn't manage to get this comic out on the 15th (pd-mdzs's 8 month anniversary and DE's 4th year anniversary) but I'm here *now*#I have a very extensive and detailed MDZS Disco Elysium AU that I am Not Normal About.#I've seen a few other people point out the potential in a crossover (true) but they make the mistake in having it be set in 51!#A true crossover would take place closer to The Antecentennial Revolution!#Disco Elysium did not go that hard on its cool lore for people to only make surface level crossovers!!!#One day I'll write the fic or post my notes. I don't know who would read it but it tickles *my* brain and that's enough.#No spoilers for DE (here or in comments (please)) but please consider....Magpie Wei Wuxian B*) On his way to be an innocent.#I do think there is a good chance a chunk of the MDZS readership would enjoy DE but...it's also not a game I easily recommend#It's more of an experience you have to marinate over. It's dark in ways that are off putting to some people.#It makes you feel like a very bad person all the time. It gets extremely personal if you allow yourself to be honest in your answers#and it's also the game that saved my life. My life was truly forever changed after playing disco elysium.#If I recommend it to people it's a badge of the trust I have in you to appreciate something dear to me B'*)#If you decide to play: PLEASE go in as blind as possible. You will regret spoiling yourself.#edit: this is based on real disco elysium dialogue. HDB has many canon kinks but this is not one of them
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actual-changeling · 4 months
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congratulations to @nightgoodomens for making me write the first ficlet of the year! this is so schmoopy and soft it almost makes me want to turn it super angsty instead—but i didn't, so enjoy the happiness while it lasts. inspired by this post.
you can also find it on ao3!
-
"Amazing how they came up with this all on their own, isn't it?"
Crowley leans back and stretches his neck as far as it will go, losing himself not in the noise but the spaces between sparks, the stars no one can see but are there living and shining nevertheless.
They find themselves on a different rooftop every year, always close enough to see it all but far enough away to create their own bubble of shared joy. His coat is hanging open, the cold, smoke-saturated air rushing past him, and when he closes his eyes just for a second, he can pretend the fireworks exploding above him are galaxies being born; his creations, still right where he put them after all this time.
Next to him, Aziraphale hums quietly, knowing all too well that Crowley is not expecting a response—nor would he hear it if he were to give him one. Instead, he keeps his gaze on his face, tracing the lines of his profile as he carefully pulls off his gloves, finger by finger, before stuffing them into his pocket. He remembers, oh, he remembers, the innocent love he saw flowing through him back then, before time, before earth, before Mother became God became the Almighty.
Before all they loved was lost, one way or another. Then again, while defying all possible odds, they managed to find it once more, not just in each other but in humanity.
Another explosion showers them with sparks that will never reach their skin, and a bright shout of joy follows right after, Crowley's eyes impossibly wide.
"Beautiful," he whispers, and Aziraphale cannot stop himself from tentatively pressing their palms together.
Absently yet with deeply ingrained care, Crowley intertwines their hands, pulling him closer to point at a spot in the sky, and there is smoke on his lips and warmth in their bodies—the same heat, given freely, shared.
"If you go that way, do you know where you'll land?"
Shuffling towards him until he can rest his chin on Crowley's shoulder, he carefully lifts their joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles, still watching him, carving out a spot for his fire-lit face in his memory.
"Alpha Centauri," he replies softly, leaving another, almost imperceptible kiss on his cheek.
"Alpha Centauri," Crowley confirms, leaning their heads together, and for a while, the world is everything he ever wanted it to be.
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trek-tracks · 6 months
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Space, the final frontier.
That is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to explore
The strange new worlds of our outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a five-year mission
And, by opposing, end it. To go—to seek,
Once more; and by “to seek” to say we find
The new life and new civilizations
Where man has gone not: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To go, to seek;
To seek, perchance to find—ay, there's the rub:
For in these voyages what dreams may come,
When we have boldly gone whence we have not,
Must give us pause—there's the respect
That makes a mission of so long a life.
For who would bear the Enterprise of time,
The starship’s wrong, admirals’ contumely,
The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th'unworthy treks,
When he himself might make his voyage on
With a bare warp core? Who would tribbles bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the hope of something to be found,
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
We travel and return, puzzling our will,
And makes us wish to solve those ills we have
And fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience makes explorers of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is glistened o'er with the stars of thought,
And Enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents warp ahead
And seize the name of action.
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pa-pa-plasma · 8 months
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hey i feel like we're really sleeping on that time Danny possessed Vlad & framed him for assaulting a minor
Editing with the clip because people don't believe me. Episode is 41: Eye for an Eye.
#Danny Phantom#i think this ties into my other post i made a long time ago about Danny siccing the GIW on Vlad#like we KNOW in CANON that if Danny was even a tiny bit more like Vlad he would literally become a supervillain#villain is such a stupid word i hate how it's spelled. why is it like that#anyways i need to like. rewatch DP cuz i remember shit & then i'm like#did that actually happen. because that sounds too insane#but like. he Did That. didnt he#i think that's what i love about this character. but a lot of people ignore it#Danny is like. gritting his teeth going ''do good do good'' it isnt effortless it isnt easy he doesnt even want to do it half the time#& sometimes yeah he WILL do crimes or get back at people who've been assholes to him or whatever#he WILL use his powers for bad sometimes#he'll be like ''dont do that it's bad'' but like. he WILL do it himself#the whole ''i'm a hero'' thing he's got going on is like. more of a. how do i put this#it's like when you're drawing or writing & saying ''it doesnt have to be perfect it just has to BE''#like Danny isn't a hero sometimes. he's got morals & has a general understanding of good & bad#but also he's 14 & being attacked every day#i would start saying bad words & threatening people that annoy me too man#okay i glanced over the scene again for the first time in years & Danny was literally in the middle of outing Vlad to the whole town???#hello?? are we really ignoring this?????#VLAD TORNADO VLAD TORNADO VLAD TORNADO#this show is so stupid i love it#love how Sam & Tucker immediately backed him up yeah fuck Vlad all my homies hate Vlad#okay you know what. maybe i will do a DP liveblog. i think it would be fun#on daddyplasmius. only posting this on pa-pa-plasma cuz it's kind of just a. weird rant post? kind of? idk
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silvers-starrway · 1 month
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So the wildest thing happened where @mactheactor decided to dub over (if that's even the correct terminology) the Chaos Sonic animation I made!!!!
I'm still in utter awe about this like, hands down the coolest thing ever I've been thinking about this non-stop. Hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do!!
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eyndr-stories · 3 months
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Last Line Challenge
Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote/drew and tag as many people as there were words (or however many you want to tag).
Hi @trees-can-draw!!! Thank you for the tag :] <3 I've been getting back into the Monty centered fic i started writing ages and ages ago dfhkjgfhjf (which is actually why i'm up at , 5am ,, ahem anyways)
"The repairs had gone well, and even with the social nightmare they'd agreed to looming on the horizon, Lark felt a sturdy sort of comfortable feeling deep in their gut that had settled in like a home cooked meal."
I do not know as many people as there are words for this fkjgfhkgf so instead i will shrimply tag @shirajellyfish, @victarin, and @lavenoon (very no pressure tags, feel free to ignore <3)
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possamble · 8 days
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Do you have any headcanons or thoughts about Falin having a crush on Marcille pre-canon? Especially during her later years at the school/the years she was with Laios.
Just full on "awkward and slightly gnc teenage lesbian has a massive crush on the touchy-feely girly girl straight best friend" tropes everywhere. Even better bc it's the "best friend is also the popular girl while lesbian is the slightly ostracized quiet one" dynamic in school. Falin gets so so so good at not having a heart attack every time Marcille gets in her personal space. But she's so resigned to never saying anything bc why would a girl as blinding as Marcille ever like her back. She also doesn't make an effort to get over it either, she's just content to be trapped in that stable dynamic of silently being in love with Marcille while getting to enjoy CLEARLY being Marcille's favourite person. She gets so used to it that it's almost just background noise most of the time-- it would have to be, unless she wanted to be freaking out 24/7 bc Marcille is so goddamn affectionate.
Her feelings also definitely change throughout the time that they're in school together-- at first it was this "whooaaah pretty older girl" puppy crush that you can clearly see developing in the flashbacks we get (I think she doesn't even like... realize her fixation on Marcille is romantic at all until years after it starts, when she's 12-14 ish and all the other girls around her are talking about crushes). But then they get closer, over the years Marcille starts getting really attached and letting down her guard, and Falin gets to see the ridiculous side of her. She gets to calm her down from her tantrums when experiments don't work out, or help her clean up when something explodes in her face. I feel like the progression of her feelings from "schoolgirl infatuation" to "unrequited love" probably almost exactly corresponds to how slowly Marcille goes from trying to keep Falin at a polite but friendly distance (like she does with everyone else) to her facade completely eroding as she becomes her cheerful and ridiculous self again for the first time since her father died.
That's probably the saddest part: Falin knows that she's clearly Marcille's favourite person on the surface level, but she doesn't quite fully grasp the enormity of what that means to Marcille. She doesn't get that she's the person who made the world colorful again for Marcille, that she is the first person outside of Marcille's family to really and truly make her laugh. She just thinks she's the beloved but dinky little short-lived sidekick, one of many that Marcille has had and will have.
Part of it is that, despite Marcille becoming such a clingy and affectionate best friend, I think her initial demeanour already did its damage. You see Falin being super adventurous and weird at first, bringing Marcille berries and other stuff, only to be rebuffed by Marcille exasperatedly saying she's working or looking kind of put off by it. And by the time you see her a little older, shes already quieter and better at masking -- and I'm not saying that that's entirely Marcille's fault (being the weird girl at an all girls academy for almost the entirety of her teenhood must have been brutal, my god) but she definitely learned that she's a potential nuisance to Marcille if she doesn't tone herself down. She learned that Marcille most likely sees her as a weird little kid following her around bc she has no other friends. And for the most part, she was never given any reason to unlearn any of that.
And that all very very smoothly transitions into Marcille being her "first love that was never meant to be anyway" when she leaves the academy. Chapter closed in her mind: she loved and pined from a distance and that was that. Every now and then she'll see another woman with Marcille's build or her shade of hair and be like ":( I miss her..." But then just kinda move on with her day. Same with when she's going through her own spellbook and finds a note that Marcille left her/correction that she made-- she'll smile fondly and reminisce about how much Marcille doted on her, and then move on.
Sometimes she thinks about contacting Marcille but convinces herself that it's too late (she spent too many months focusing on getting Laios healthy again and didn't mean to go no contact, but ah well). It's only when she has a practical reason to be reaching out that would also benefit Marcille ("Marcille is studying dungeons and we need a trustworthy mage to go with us to the dungeons") that she feels like she's allowed/that it wouldn't just be 100% a nuisance.
I almost think she didn't expect Marcille to reply at all, only to get a telegraph (or some in-universe equivalent of express mail, maybe magical pigeon carrier) that's like. EN ROUTE TO ISLAND. LETTER TO FOLLOW. and she freaks out like AAAA LAIOS SHE SAID YES WE HAVE TO CLEAN UP NOW.
I do think getting a response accidentally sparks a little hope in her, judging by the way she acts in the chp 57 flashback-- she's pouty that Marcille sees her as a kid, gets really worked up about being presentable, and then tries to play it cool when she actually meets Marcille (as if she didn't freak out and force Laios to shave while rambling a mile a minute about Marcille). She's an adult now, really and truly, and she's seen and survived things that her 18 yr old self would have never even imagined-- then all of a sudden, the person she was in love with since she was ten years old appears, and she's so desperate to be seen as mature and competent. She's trying soooo hard to impress Marcille with her newfound combat and dungeoneering experience...
Only to fall right back into their old dynamic. RIP. At least she gets the girl eventually, even if it takes dying twice and being the core catalyst behind an almost-apocalypse.
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