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#this particular point in time -> can’t get any work done anyway until my laptop’s fixed
afieldinengland · 4 months
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i feel sick
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weirdkpopgirl · 2 years
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Connection | Jisung Fic #1 (p.t 1)
Title: Connection
Genre: Soulmate AU
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1793k
Author’s Note: Hi guys, this was requested by a lovely anon. I haven’t written a soulmate au in a few years, so I apologize if this one is kinda bad. There are so many types of soulmates, but I decided to just come up with my own thing. I hope you guys like it (especially the person who requested lol). There will be a part two if anyone is curious. ^ ^
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Soulmates? Destined love? Those were concepts you hadn’t given too much thought until recently. Supposedly, a person would only know about their soulmate at a certain point in their life. The earliest age was eighteen, but the timing varied for everyone.
How would they know, you may ask? Apparently, one could hear a single thought per day from their soulmate, and vice versa. Then once they met, soulmates could form a strong bond with each other.
Pretty weird, right? Unfortunately, soulmates were rare in this day and age. But that didn’t stop people from fantasizing about them anyway. After all, who didn’t like the idea of one true love?
Your eighteenth birthday had already passed, and there were no signs of a soulmate yet. Not that you expected anything at all. You had other priorities to focus on, like getting through your first year of college.
Then one day you were in your dorm room, pulling an all-nighter to get this research paper done. You sat at your desk, typing away on your laptop quietly, as to not wake up your roommate. It was late at night, and exhaustion was finally starting to seep through your brain. Just as your eyes began to feel heavy, a deep, male voice came out of nowhere.
I’m so hungry. I should ask Hyung if he can make some ramyeon.
Slightly startled, you glanced around. Of course, only you and your roommate were in the room. Why did a guy’s voice randomly appear—that’s when it hit you.
“No—no it can’t be,” You muttered, shaking your head in denial. It was one in the morning, and your lack of sleep was getting to you.
However, you heard the voice again and again as the days passed. Maybe I do have a soulmate, you thought to yourself. How was this even possible?
It took you a while to accept this new fate. Nonetheless, you tried your best to go on with your daily life. But it felt like you were going around with this big secret. Certainly, you hadn’t expected someone like yourself to have a soulmate.
Any consistency of when exactly you heard your soulmate’s thoughts didn’t seem to exist. You would be sitting through a class, or be at work when these instances occurred. What left you confused was that you had no idea of who your soulmate was or how to find him.
All you knew about this person were the random thoughts you heard every day. So far you learned that he liked dancing, playing video games, and listening to music. You had a feeling that he was around your age, possibly a bit older. He often thought about his schedule, which led you to think he must not be in college. But you weren’t sure what kind of job he had.
No matter how you tried to not dwell on it all too much, you couldn’t help but feel insecure. If you were able to hear your soulmate’s thoughts, that meant he was able to hear yours as well. Not that there was anything in particular that you intended to hide. But you were quite an overthinker and the fact that someone else could possibly hear your worries frightened you.
┈┈
Jisung instantly knew his soulmate had been confirmed when he started to hear a girl’s voice in his head. His members may think he was silly, but he had been strangely interested in soulmate bonds for some time. He used to wonder if there truly could be a person out there for him.
Yes, he was young and had his whole career planned out. But sometimes being a k-pop idol could get a little lonely, even though he was in a group with so many members. Jisung longed to have some sort of contact with the outside world, which he seemed to have left once he became a trainee.
So when he discovered his soulmate did indeed exist, Jisung felt both excited and nervous. He was so curious about who you were and what you were like.
“Did you hear anything today?” Jaemin asked him, after dance practice one day. All his members had gathered around him.
The maknae shook his head in response. “Nothing yet.”
“Have you gotten any clues of who she is exactly?” Renjun came over to sit next to him on the couch.
“It’s kinda hard because they come so randomly,” Jisung tried to explain. “And when I do hear them, it’s all so vague.”
Chenle, who stood behind him, leaned forward.“Well, what do you know already?”
Jisung scratched his head, trying to recall. “She seems to study a lot, so she’s probably in school. Oh and she likes going to bookstores or the library in her free time.”
“Ah, so she’s one of those people who actually read for fun,” Haechan joked.
The boy shrugged, “I guess so.”
“Interesting,” Jeno mumbled. “Do you think she knows who you are?”
“I honestly have no idea,” Jisung sighed in slight frustration. “This is all so weird.”
He wished he had more clues about his soulmate. From what he’s heard about her so far, she seemed like a nice person. But the longer time passed, the more discouraged Jisung felt about finding her.
┈┈
“(Y/n)-ah!” A friend approached your table, after entering the library. If you weren’t studying in your dorm, your friends were sure to find you there.
You tore your attention away from your textbook and took one of your earbuds out.
“Oh, Seoyeon-ah.”
“What song were you listening to?” She asked as she sat down in the empty chair beside you.
In response, you tapped on your phone to show her. The song was titled, “Dear DREAM.”
Seoyeon gasped, “I didn’t know you were into NCT Dream too!”
“Well, I only started listening to their music this month,” You chuckled.
Truthfully, you had to thank your soulmate for getting you into the group. Before, the only music you listened to was by smaller Korean artists, not too much k-pop. But one day your soulmate was singing a lyric to a song you haven’t heard before. Conveniently, you had looked it up and actually liked it. As a result, that took you down a whole rabbit hole of learning about the boy group.
“Who’s your bias? Mine is Chenle,” Seoyeon giggled.
You had to think about your friend’s question for a bit. You’ve barely entered the fandom, so you weren’t used to being asked about biases and stuff like that.
“I think I like Park Jisung,” You answered slowly.
Seoyeon’s head tilted slightly, “The maknae? Huh, I thought you’d go for someone like Jeno or Mark.”
“I don’t know,” You shrugged. “I just feel like...there’s this connection?”
“Ooh, does Kim (Y/n) finally have a crush on someone?” Your friend gave you a smug look. “Can’t blame you, Jisung is pretty cute.”
You blushed, wanting to defend yourself. But you weren’t sure what else to say. Glancing back down at your phone, you saw the album that was playing which featured all the members. They were all pretty good-looking, but Jisung just stood out to you for a reason you didn’t know.
Over the past few days, you watched some of their content videos. The guys were so funny and charismatic, that you found yourself laughing along with them at times. You would have to thank your soulmate for getting you into their music if you ever met him. Surely he must also be a fan if one of their songs was playing in his head.
Seoyeon gave you a nudge. “(Y/n)-ah, did you hear me?”
“Sorry, I must’ve been zoning out,” You said with a sheepish smile. “What were you saying?”
“I have two tickets to NCT Dream’s fan meeting next week. We should go together!”
Wow, that sounded like such a great opportunity. But you’ve never been to an event like that before. There would probably be crowds of fans, including screaming girls. You weren’t sure if you were up for that.
“I don’t know. Don’t we have midterms next week?” You crossed your arms.
“Yeah, but the fan meeting is on a Friday. We’d be done with our exams by then,” Seoyeon reasoned. “Come on (Y/n)-ah, you should do something fun instead of studying all day.”
Well if she kept insisting, you didn’t think it would be too bad if you went just once. Seoyeon squealed and hugged you when you finally gave in.
Next week couldn’t come any faster. You were relieved to be over with mid-terms and looked forward to going to see NCT Dream with Seoyeon. Weirdly, you were a bit nervous about going. There was no explanation for it, maybe that’s how most fans felt about meeting their favorite artists.
Luckily, Seoyeon talked most of the way there and told you what to expect. The feeling of being overwhelmed was quick to consume you when you guys entered the venue filled with so many other fans. Seoyeon had gotten pretty decent seats, where you were close to the stage. Just as you were trying to calm your nerves, several screams flooded your ears when the seven boys appeared.
Almost out of what seemed to be instinct, you looked to see your bias. Of course, it didn’t take you too long to find him. You spotted the shy smile he often wore on camera, he was standing beside Jaemin. Unexpectedly, the boy’s smile dropped when he looked at you.
You gasped when you felt a sudden jolt in your heart. It was almost as if you were struck by an arrow or something. Bewildered by this feeling, you placed a hand on your chest. But once the pain started, it quickly faded away.
“Are you okay, (Y/n)-ah?” Seoyeon put her hand on your shoulder.
“I—I’m fine,” You huffed, feeling out of breath even though you hadn’t done anything.
What is going on? Why does my heart feel so weird?
Startled by your soulmate’s thoughts appearing out of nowhere, your eyes scattered among the crowd. Maybe you were in the same place and could feel each other’s presence somehow. But there were mostly girls here and—
A mix of comprehension and fear filled inside of you. Jisung. You started to feel like this immediately after you saw each other.
That was when you dared to look back at him. His right hand was placed on his chest just as you were. He was staring at you intently, with the same look of disbelief.
“No way,” You whispered, so only you could hear. This couldn’t be possible…
Park Jisung was your soulmate?!
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part two
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purplesurveys · 8 months
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1734
1 - What’s your favourite type of survey to take? A survey with just a mix of random questions is always a safe choice – that's what most of them have been, anyway. Every now and then I like to enjoy categories, and to a lesser degree, themed ones.
2 - What about your least favourite? Do you ever take these anyway if you can’t find anything else? I mean, about-mes are only fun if you're new to surveys but they'll get old quickly. I don't like song shuffles either because I have a million separate playlists on Spotify, so those surveys could never capture my music taste as a whole.
3 - Do you have a favourite survey maker? How long have you been following their blog for? I have a few favorites on Bzoink but I haven't been able to catch up with any of their newer surveys because life.
4 - Do you ever get surveys from somewhere that isn’t Tumblr? What other sites do you like to use for finding surveys? I used to go on Bzoink and lift newer surveys from there over here, but 2022/2023 has kept me very busy that these days I just play catch-up with all the surveys everyone takes here. Until around 2-3 years ago I also used to go on LiveJournal but the survey tag doesn't get updated as much, so I eventually I stopped visiting.
5 - Do you like to take surveys at a particular time of day? I like taking them in the evenings before going to bed. I also reserve most of my survey-taking on weekends, but if a work day has been gross and just need an outlet to vent or whatever I will occasionally squeeze time on a weeknight.
6 - Do you have a favourite location to take surveys - eg. on your bed or in the living room? I'll take them in my room most of the time – it's quiet and peaceful here. Occasionally I'd do them on the couch in the living room or at the dining table, but it's almost always too distracting to finish one.
7 - How often would you say you took surveys? Do you go through phases of taking loads and then stopping for a while? I've been pretty consistent in the 10-11 years I've been taking surveys, tbh! I never really took a 'break' from them – they serve the same purpose as a journal, so I've never felt burned out from surveys.
The most distinct difference, if anything, about my survey-taking habits is how it surged like crazy during the pandemic. Like dude. I didn't have a job, I had just graduated, I was stuck at home – I used to do 5-6 surveys a day, EVERYDAY, for like six months.
8 - Do you like to watch TV or listen to music while you take surveys? If I have something on in the background, it has to be something I can't understand so that my brain doesn't get overstimulated lol. That said, I like having Korean-language vlogs on when taking surveys.
9 - Have you ever taken surveys with another person before? NOOOOOOOO. I prefer to keep IRLs out of my survey-taking hobby.
10 - Do people in real life know you take surveys? If not, would you be embarrassed if someone found out about your blog? Only my sister knows and that's just because I know she doesn't give a shit and I trust her to not judge me for it. I shared the blog with my now-ex at some point but that's also why I changed my user recently.
11 - Do you often have something to eat and drink next to you while you take surveys? Drink, yes. Coffee and surveys go hand-in-hand for me. Food, no. Too much of a distraction.
12 - What kind of chair or surface do you find yourself sitting on the most when you take them? The mini sofa in my room.
13 - Have you ever taken surveys at work before? I used to sneak surveys in during my internship when work would be slow; but otherwise I've never done it since getting formally employed.
14 - Do you prefer doing surveys on a laptop, a phone or another device? Laptop. Dealing with this big a body of text on a phone seems like such a headache.
15 - What kind of surveys would you like to see more of? What about less of? I mean I don't have any expectations when it comes to surveys lol. As long as I don't run out of any to take. Thank you, active survey-makers!!
16 - Have you ever discovered new bands, TV shows or anything through reading other people’s surveys? I'm sure it's happened, but I wouldn't say it's a frequent occurrence.
17 - Do you like to read other people’s answers? Are there some people whose blogs you always check? Sure, I keep up with the little circle I have on here. I'm usually too shy to comment, but I'm generally aware of the ups and downs everyone's been going through and I just kind of like...silently send my support or well wishes or condolences and whatnot.
18 - Have you ever taken a survey while drunk or high? I have taken surveys while drunk but most of the time it ends up with me being too sleepy to take the full thing and just finishing the rest the next morning.
19 - Have you ever attempted the 5,000 question survey? Did you ever finish or did you find yourself getting bored part-way through? I have actually never finished it, no. I should get my ass to take the whole thing at some point.
20 - What first got you into taking surveys? I have no clue, honestly. Maybe it's because the earliest forms of social media like Myspace and LJ would have people do the generic about-me prompts and I guess it just made me curious about more long-form surveys that could possibly exist out there. Eventually I found Bzoink and that's how this whole habit started.
21 - How old were you (roughly) when you first started taking them? I was technically 10 when I first found out about Bzoink, but didn't start keeping a blog up until I was either 13 or 14.
22 - What’s the reason behind you taking surveys? It's a journal that's able to keep a record of my life, simply put.
23 - What’s one thing that would put you off taking or finishing a survey? If the questions get too irritating, or if I'm way too stressed that not even surveys could save the day.
24 - In your opinion, what’s the ideal length for a survey? Would you not bother taking a survey if you thought it was too short or too long? Anywhere between 40 to 60 is fun enough for me, but overall it depends on my mood and how awake I feel.
25 - Do you answer questions using proper spelling and grammar? Yes.
26 - Do you prefer questions that require long answers or are you happy to take yes/no surveys? Ones that demand more substantial answers are fine but don't, like, get all philosophical or existential. That's another thing that would push me away from finishing a survey.
27 - Is there a specific style of survey that you’ve never taken before? Surveys that have you answer with a photo. I don't like those either.
28 - What kind of surveys would you like to see in the future? That could be in terms of style or category or anything, really? Again, don't really have expectations when it comes to surveys haha. I just take whatever I see that I feel are interesting enough.
29 - Have you ever shared your surveys with friends and family on social media? Nope.
30 - Do you find that time goes by quickly or slowly when you take surveys? Quickly.
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spencersawkward · 3 years
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*house call // wes (Dollface)*
ssummary: when her pet cat gives her a scare, Reader decides to call the vet to make sure everything is going to be okay. 
pairing: Fem!Reader x Wes
word count: 5.4k
content warnings: discussion of cannabis/cannabis consumption, unprotected penetrative sex, use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), SoftDom!Wes, breeding kink, creampie. 
request: can you do a wes smutty one shot if you’re down?! 
A/N: to be fair, i haven’t watched Dollface in a minute, but i’m obsessed with the domestic vibes that Matthew gives off when he plays Wes and i just thought it would be super cute. anyway, this was super fun also i wanna fuck Wes. ok enjoy!
masterlist
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the absolute best part of your day is when the package arrives at your doorstep. you impulse-purchased it about two weeks ago while you were hanging out with one of your close friends, and you've been looking forward to trying it every day since. 
or, really, for your cat to try it. 
you've read reviews and been extremely diligent to make sure the stuff is completely safe, and everything you've seen or read was singing the praises of this cat weed (which isn't actually cannabis at all, but catnip made to look like it).
as you take the cardboard box to the kitchen table and pry open the top with the help of a Swiss army knife, you're grinning. Klimt comes scampering into the room to see what all the fuss is about, sitting at your feet with his tail curled around his legs. 
"no peeking." you scold him gently. your kitten, the friendliest little rescue tabby around, simply stares blankly back. when you remove the wrapping from the glass jar and stare at it up close, you're impressed by how realistic it looks. the label shows cat-friendly ingredients only, but you unscrew the top and get a whiff of catnip. 
Klimt begins to weave in between your legs, nudging them affectionately and beginning to purr. you giggle and bend down to give him a few pets. his nose twitches; he tries to sniff at the foreign object, but you put it back on the table. 
"don't be greedy, babe." you scratch between his pointed ears and he lets out a whiny meow. 
it's about his dinner time, and you were hoping to give him his treat tonight after he finishes his dry food. so you make yourself something simple with the leftovers in your fridge and do some more work on your laptop while you two eat together. 
you've had Klimt for a while, now. you call him a kitten even though he's a full-grown cat-- he's just as playful and enthusiastic as any newborn. his eyes are the color of meadow grass, and his nose is scattered with tiny freckles. it makes him look like he's just come from digging around the backyard, but it really just adds to his charm. 
not to mention his ceaselessly social tendencies: Klimt is always around when your friends come over, worming his way in between you or sitting on one of the free chair cushions to listen. you wonder if he knows what you're saying sometimes, because when you talk about the embarrassing things you've done that day or the failed interactions you've had, he always lifts his head to give you something of a judgmental stare. 
once you've settled down for the evening and turned on the TV, you decide that now is the time. Klimt is aimlessly poking at a few of his toys. he bats at a fake mouse between his paws.
"kitten," you click your tongue and get up to grab the jar. "are you ready to try this stuff?" 
as if he's going to answer. he hears your footsteps coming back his way and watches patiently. it's only when you pour out a little bit in front of him that he gets curious about the stuff. you admire his movements as he bends down and examines. 
although you keep an eye on him while watching your show, you don't notice much of a change in him. he starts to roll about on the floor, which is to be expected, but it's only when he starts to chase around his fake mouse that things get interesting. 
you laugh as Klimt goes nuts, jumping back and attacking the thing like he's ready to come in for the kill. it's really funny, but you're interrupted by your phone buzzing. you told your friend that you were doing this tonight. 
"hi!" you answer the FaceTime call right away. 
"how is he?" you can hear the smile in Andi's voice as you turn the camera. 
"he's loving it." 
"oh my god," she laughs. Klimt arches his back, leaping so highly in the air, you raise your eyebrows. "I wonder how long it'll last." she muses. 
"I'm guessing we'll get about an hour more of this before he passes out for the next two days." you joke. he gets strong bursts of energy usually, but they only last so long until he's curled up on the window sill or in your bed. 
Andi and you talk for a while as Klimt tires himself out and plays with all of his favorite toys. you dangle a string in front of him for a decent amount of time, too, just to make him get up on his hindquarters. he's a natural entertainer, a lithe little thing who lets out a few irritated meows to demonstrate his impertinence. 
after about forty-five minutes, however, you notice your cat's behavior change. he keeps raising his hackles and rolling about, and something about it makes you nervous. he doesn't usually act like this, not even when he plays with the other catnip toys he's accumulated. 
"what's wrong?" Andi notes your furrowed brow as you look past the camera of your phone and at your pet. 
"he's just acting really weird," you pat the couch cushion to call him over, but he doesn't even glance up. "I don't know why." 
"maybe it's the cat weed." she suggests. you purse your lips and try to think. 
"yeah, but nobody in the reviews ever mentioned anything like this."
"I'm sure he's fine, Y/N."  
"yeah, I know..." but you're worried. Klimt is your pal, your cuddle buddy. as he rubs his cheek against the wooden floor, you feel guilt pool in your stomach. if he's hurt because of some dumb online purchase, you're never going to forgive yourself. "I'm gonna call the vet just to be sure."  
"oh, okay," she sounds surprised, but doesn't try to stop you. "let me know what they say." 
"I will." you hang up the phone and stare at your companion for a few seconds. he leaps into the air and does a somersault before letting out some deeply disturbing whine that reminds you to call the vet. better safe than sorry.  
...
when the doorbell rings, you're practically twiddling your thumbs anxiously. Klimt hasn't settled at all, and you haven't even bothered to change out of your lounging ensemble. you're pretty sure you look a mess, but hopefully the person won't care too much. 
you don't know who to expect-- your usual vet is an older woman who is friends with your mom, but her receptionist said she was out tonight and would send over another vet to check it out. 
when you swing open the door, you immediately regret the decision to stay in sweatpants. 
"hi, I'm Wes." the guy gives you a friendly smile and holds up his bag. it's almost comically old-fashioned, something out of an old movie, and you half-expect him to be wearing a stethoscope around his neck. 
he's gorgeous, though. definitely a good amount older than you, tall with brown curls and stubble. his features stand out to you even under the porch light, and your mouth guppies idiotically. 
"hi," you manage. his eyes flicker to your hand, which is seemingly blocking him from coming inside the house, and you jolt back a little to let him in. you clear your throat. "sorry." 
as he steps inside and you close the door behind him, getting one tiny moment to yourself, your eyes widen. way to make yourself look like a bumbling fool. 
"I heard that there's a tabby who got into some catnip?" you catch him looking around the front of your house, eyes catching on the framed photos before finding yours again. you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, but nod confidently.  
"yeah, Klimt. he should still be in the living room." 
"Klimt? like the artist?" he chuckles and follows you into the rest of the home. his voice has a nice timbre to it, something low and gentle that fits well with his occupation.  
"yeah, exactly." you turn to smile at him. 
you hear the cat before you see him. he's climbed to the top of his cat tree and leaps down onto the ground, paws hitting the surface in a way that can't have been comfortable. he chirps and looks up at Wes, whose lips are turned up with amusement.    
"are you the man of the hour?" he asks, approaching the cat. Klimt's pupils get enormous and he prepares to pounce on the newcomer. 
"careful--" you start to warn him, but the cat launches himself right into Wes' arms. the vet turns to you, holding him to his chest, and grins. warmth spreads over your skin with embarrassment. "sorry." 
"no need to apologize," he starts to pet Klimt, who is only slightly struggling to escape. he wants to go wild again, but Wes isn't going to let go. "they call me the Cat Wrangler at the office." 
"really?" you snort. he brings your pet over to the couch and sets him on the cushions, careful to keep him in place. 
"no way." he shoots you a dazzling smile. the joke makes you giggle, and you feel yourself become even more self-conscious about the outfit you're wearing. this is just your luck, having hot guys come over when you distinctly look your worst. 
Wes scratches between Klimt's ears and glances up at you again. "is there any reason in particular you're worried about the catnip?" 
"yeah, actually," you nod, brought back to reality. "I know it's supposed to make them more playful, but he's just been acting weird and I got worried that there was something in it that messed with his head." 
"can I see the container for it?" he asks. you go to grab the jar, only to remember that it proudly announces itself as cannabis for cats. profound embarrassment causes you to hesitate with the stuff in your hands. 
it's not like he's here for you to flirt with, but you're still thinking about how stupid and young you're going to look with this stuff in front of him, a hot older guy who seems to have his life under control. you peek at him once more from the kitchen, at the way he smiles and starts to talk softly to Klimt as if he were a peer. 
he's kinda crazy, and it makes you smile. 
"it's cat weed." you hand him the glass container, and Wes breaks into a grin as he looks at the front. 
"oh my gosh, I've heard about this!" his eyes move quickly over the label. you're in shock. 
"really?"
"yeah, it's hilarious. here, can you make sure our friend here doesn't move while I read the ingredients?" he gestures. the knot of anxiety within you loosens a bit. you nod obediently, going to scoop up your pet and sit him on your lap. he's still squirmy, but he doesn't look ready to attack either of you, thankfully. 
"hey, you." you greet your pal affectionately. his tail is wagging impatiently while Wes kneels on the ground beside the couch. there's a silver ring on his finger, but you notice with relief that it's not on his fourth one. 
when he sets the jar down on the coffee table with the kind of smile that hints at some secret amusement, you frown. "what?"
"nothing," he shakes his head. "Klimt is gonna be totally fine."
"are you sure?" you pet the feline's smooth coat. 
"definitely. you know how drugs affect people differently?" he asks. you want to say no, you don't know that because why would you, but then you remember that there is quite literally a glass-blown bowl sitting on your kitchen table. 
"sure." you reply honestly. 
"it's the same with cats: some just feel the effects a little more." he shrugs. you think this over for a second. 
"that makes sense." 
"yeah, I'd estimate about an hour more of this wildcat behavior before he takes a ten-hour nap." he cracks another joke and you find yourself totally charmed by him. something about the way he talks just makes your heart beat like crazy.  
"that's a relief." 
he chuckles and stands up, grabbing the bag (which he never even had to use) and starting to walk out of the living room. you can smell his delicious cologne as he moves past you.  
"sorry for making you come out here so late." you apologize from the couch. Wes turns to look at you with an easygoing expression. his free hand is tucked into his pocket.  
"no worries. you have a lovely home." he gestures to the kitchen, and then at the bowl sitting there in the open. you have to fight the smile on your face.  
"thanks." you're smirking. right before he's about to head back out, you ask a question that's been wriggling around in your mind since he arrived. "why no title?" 
"you mean, like, Doctor or something?" he stops in the threshold. one hand leans against it while he answers your question. you still can't get over how tall he is. 
"sure. I mean, you are a doctor, right?" it comes out more dubious than you intended, but he doesn't get offended, only smiles. 
"yes, I'm a doctor. I went to Davis." he points like the school is right outside your door. you nod.  
"cool." 
there's a silence where you just look at each other, and you forget that you look like you just rolled out of bed. he clears his throat. 
"to answer your question, I just go by Wes because you're not my patient-- Klimt is." he points to the kitten, who is now chasing his own tail like a dog. you snort at the sight. 
"how humble of you." 
"I know, right?" he's joking. you find yourself not wanting him to leave, even though you've really just met. he's so sweet and funny and handsome... your stomach is flipping over and over like a schoolgirl. 
and it's stupid that you can't think of one plausible reason for him to stay, but every step he takes shortens your time to think. so you just blurt, instead. 
"would you want a beer?" 
Wes pauses and looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. "a beer?" 
"yeah, I mean... you came all the way out here and I just feel bad for causing a fuss over nothing." you scramble slightly to justify your words. you don't ever drink beer-- do you even have any? god, this is embarrassing.  
the vet checks the watch on his wrist, then smiles at you with a halting kind of enjoyment, before nodding. "sure." 
"okay, great." you turn on your heel to hide the grin on your face. he follows you again to the kitchen area and leans against the counter while you open the fridge. the best form of flirting you can manage right now is bending over shamelessly and taking your time to poke around. 
thankfully, there are three cold bottles left towards the back. you take out two and use the tool in one of your drawers to pop the tops off. he watches patiently, takes a sip when you hand the drink to him. your eyes meet. 
"so, what prompted the cat weed purchase?" he starts the conversation effortlessly, and you try to keep your eyes from wandering over the shape of him. now that he's just standing in front of you, you're noticing the way his sweater sits against his frame, his long legs and the way his head rests on an elegantly-proportioned neck. 
"I just saw it and thought it would be fun." you shrug honestly. he smiles.  
"do you think you're gonna let him try it again another time?"  
"I don't know," you cross your arms over your chest. "I'm a little nervous, but he also was having a lot of fun until I made him sit still." 
"fair enough." you both turn your gazes to the cat. he's nudging a little toy ball with his nose and watching it roll across the floor. there are tiny bells inside that jingle. Wes turns back to you. "what do you do?"
"graphic designer." 
"an artist." he raises his brows, impressed. 
"not exactly saving animal lives, but I get by." you take another sip of your drink. 
"it's not like that, mostly." he rolls his eyes playfully. 
"then what's it like?"
"I just see and talk to people's pets all day. it's a pretty great job, even when it's not. you know?" he's optimistic about it. you're drawn to his positive energy, to the way he smiles when he speaks like he's preparing to deliver a witty joke. 
 you're hopelessly attracted to him, and the space between you is becoming unbearable. even though he's a guy you just met, you can feel in your gut that something about this is just right. you want his body against yours. 
 "you okay?" he breaks what you only now realize is a silence, and you blink to clear the dirty images from your mind. 
"yeah." only thinking about you fucking me against a countertop. it must be the fact that you haven't gotten laid in a while or something, because you usually aren't this attracted to people within the first hour. it takes longer for you to even want to kiss them.  
"what kind of stuff do you design?" he seems genuinely interested as he shifts and continues to nurse his drink.  
"I work for a tech startup downtown, so it's a lot of website work to make sure it's navigable and pretty." you try to sum up your duties, but it's hard when his hazel eyes are so intent. he listens to every word.  
"do you do personal work, too? like, just for you?" 
"actually, yeah!" this sparks your excitement. 
"can I see?" his smile widens. "only if you're comfortable, of course."  
"sure." you're beaming.  
he stays put as you start to go out of the kitchen, but then you smile. "you can come with." 
"oh." he sets his beer down on the counter and follows you, slightly surprised. but you don't care; you were nervous before, but he's stayed for this long. maybe he wants you, too. 
once you get to your bedroom, you're grateful that it's been freshly cleaned. there's even a bouquet from the flower's market sitting on your dresser, and you head over to the desk to sift through the drawers for what you want. 
"cool room." he compliments from the threshold. he's careful not to make you uncomfortable, but also can't resist the curiosity that draws his gaze from wall to wall. you find the stack of papers and smile. 
"thanks," you place the folder in his hands. "these are some printed versions of stuff I did last year." 
Wes immediately begins to flip through the art. him seeing your stuff makes you nervous, so you pretend to focus on straightening up the few items that sit on your desk. you wipe your fingertip over a nonexistent film of dust. 
"these are amazing," he says, holding a card stock copy in between his index and middle fingers. "holy shit."
"thank you." you're trying to keep from smiling too hard. you can tell that he's being genuine with his compliments, and it makes your heart swell. 
"definitely. are you showing anywhere?" 
"at an exhibit downtown a couple months back, but I've been so busy with work that personal stuff hasn't really been on the table, you know?"
he nods in understanding and continues to go through until the end. when he's finished, he looks up and sees you, his eyes concentrated. he doesn't speak at first, and an undercurrent ripples across the room. there are about three feet between you, and you have no excuse to lessen it. 
he licks his lips slowly. you purse yours, unsure of what to say. 
"I'm glad you called tonight." his voice is lower, slightly uncertain, like he's testing the boundaries. except you don't want boundaries right now. you want to go wild on him. 
"me, too." you reply. it's in your eyes, that begging for him to do what you're scared to initiate. 
your tongue is pressed to the back of your teeth in anticipation. and when he sets the art back on your desk and comes closer, you feel yourself give in. bubbles of excitement travel up your body as he grabs your face and bends down to kiss you. 
it's full, passionate, not the kind of kiss you give someone you've just met. laced with desire and longing, you respond immediately. hands immediately run to his forearms, over his shoulders as he imposes beautifully on your form. it's so hard, you lean back slightly. your torso presses against his until he pushes you against the wall. 
the slight gasp that escapes your lips causes him to smile, followed by your moan and clutching fingers. the material of his sweater, the taste of him mingled with that sophisticated, gentle smell of cologne that you want printed all over your skin. 
"come here." he murmurs against your mouth and reaches down to the back of your thigh so you can hook your leg around his waist. you whine at the easy access he has to grind against your core, both of you desperate. 
"Wes." you pant into his open mouth. he sucks on your bottom lip before finding your cheek and jaw. his fingertips tighten around your flesh. 
"this feel good, sweetheart?" he checks in. coincidentally, his jeans grind against your panties at exactly the right spot and your hips jump. you release a pleasured yelp. 
"mhmm." 
"sounds like it." he latches onto your throat with a possessive excitement. you can feel him sucking and biting at the skin until you're positive there'll be marks tomorrow. you hope there are; purpled evidence of his touch. he digs his nails into your thighs. "you like it when older men touch you, baby?" 
he blows over your tender throat before attacking it again. you sigh contentedly at the way he mingles sensations for your pleasure. "yes." 
he grunts and nips at your collarbone, sliding the strap of your top down your shoulder so that he can effortlessly flutter his lips over the skin. you grip at him and toss your head back against the wall. his weight on yours is divine. it makes you weak, but that doesn't matter. he's practically holding you up at this point. 
when his hand pushes under the hem of your shirt and dances over your stomach, you arch your back for more. he's gentle yet firm, pulling you close like he wants to breathe your oxygen. he's tracing over your ribcage, all the way up to the valley of your breasts, before cupping one and moaning into your shoulder. 
he kisses you again with an aching hunger that can't be satiated. your tongues meet and Wes finds your hardened nipples beneath the thin fabric of your bralette. you sigh while he starts to circle one with his thumb.  
"you're perfect." he breathes. 
you want to bask in this moment, to enjoy the shock across your skin when he reaches his hand back down between your bodies to dip below the waistband of your sweatpants, but you're just so greedy. he could make you cum over and over and it would never be enough. 
"what do you want me to do to you?" Wes is hovering over your lower stomach, dangerously close to where you need him most. he's teasing. the warmth of his skin drives you mad. his breath brushes over the shell of your ear. 
"fuck me." it's the only response you can fathom. every other instinct in your body flies out the window and is replaced by a craving to sink your proverbial (and literal) teeth into him.
but he loves it, apparently, because he pushes you back against the wall with a nearly bruising force. "I can do that." 
with those words, he quickly grabs your other leg and lifts you into his arms, bringing you to the bed and laying you delicately on the mattress while you giggle. you stare up at him with an almost daydreamy lust. his cheeks are flushed. 
you only get a second of that heavenly sight, though, before he dips down and pushes your shirt up to see your tits and kiss up the chasm between your ribs. his stubble tickles your skin, which causes you to smile. 
by the time he's pulled your sweatpants off and tossed them to the side, you're whining for him to strip down as well. 
"what is it, pretty girl?" he murmurs against your tummy. when you try to squeeze your thighs, he pushes them apart. 
"I wanna see you." your fingertips touch at his sweater. he chuckles and pulls the garment over his head. it messes up his perfect hair even more and you love it, tangling your fingers in it. he bites his lip. 
"do you want me to taste you first?" he keeps stroking the inside of your thighs and staring down at the skimpy lace that you're positive that you've already soaked. you're making him crazy with the way you roll your hips against air, against nothing, seeking any kind of stimulation. 
"I can't wait." you shake your head. as nice as it would be, you're going to implode if he doesn't fill you up soon. he drags his fingers down your clothed slit and groans when he feels just how ready you are for him. 
"let's take these off then, okay, sweetheart?" he hooks his fingers in the panties and waits for you to nod before tugging them down your legs. you whimper at the cool air that hits your core, soaked and needy. Wes stares at your body on display for him. 
as he gets back up from the floor to kiss you again, you both work to remove the rest of his clothes. his skin is perfect under your hands. his chest is warm, solid, and when he climbs on top of you, his arms rest on either side of your head.
one hand comes down to grab his own cock and stroke it a few times before lowering himself to rub it against your throbbing clit. you whimper at the pressure; he's mindless when he feels how easily you cover him in your essence. 
"so fucking wet..." he groans while rutting against you. 
"Wes, please--" your breath hitches. "put it in." 
"begging?" he teases your entrance with the head and smirks. "good girl." 
"mhmm." you're smiling, but your mouth drops open when he pushes himself inside. 
it's a heavy feeling, him filling you up. he's thick and the stretching of your walls makes him groan and rest his head on your shoulder. he kisses the skin there while diving deeper into your body. 
you're shaking slightly from the mixture of pain and pleasure, his size forcing your body to work quickly to accommodate. your eyes are squeezed shut, but you run your hands over his back and shoulders to stay grounded. it feels like a dream. 
he starts to pull out, coated in your wetness while you whimper below him, and he grabs your face with one hand in a dominant, soft gesture. "okay?"
"yeah." 
he pushes back in. the air in your lungs is practically gone at this point, he's so deep inside. your eyes roll back and push your hips up to take him at a new angle. Wes finds his pace easily, rocking into your body at a manageable pace to let you get used to the sensation. 
every time his hips roll down and he buries himself in you, he presses on your clit and sends a new shock through your body. he leans on his elbows to get closer and feel every undulation of your body. you love how his thrusts force your legs apart, how he moans your name and causes the headboard to repeatedly hit the wall while maintaining eye contact. hazel irises that rake over your features with lust. 
"you feel so good." he speeds up a little when he hits a certain spot. you can feel him deep and hard, causing a small bump to rise in your stomach with each stroke. his voice is husky and dark. like a man starved. 
"fuck..." you drag your nails down his back. he groans at the red marks that you will no doubt leave for him. 
"clingy thing, huh?" he sucks at your throat affectionately. "I come over for one thing and you can't help yourself." 
hearing Wes speak through his own panting is like listening to a secret, and you never want it to stop. he's reveling in the sordid crush of his own wants, and the way he shoves into you shows you that he has no intention of slowing down for a while. 
"I'm impatient." you smirk. he pulls away to admire your expression. 
"so am I." he kisses your lips and starts to pound into you. the juxtaposition of his tenderness and the sharp snap of his hips to yours fills you with butterflies. you love how much he wants to ruin you. 
"Wes-- oh my god!" you whimper. he grabs your hips and yanks them closer to him so he can go as deep as possible, so he can hit your cervix. 
"that's right, sweetheart," he pants. you can tell that he's starting to lose control. "say my name. I want everyone to know what a good little slut you are for me." 
the commanding tone makes your body shake. "I- I'm cumming, Wes, please--"
"please what, baby?" he taunts. his index finger is tracing over your jaw. 
you don't know what it is that you're wanting, except more. as your form shudders and tightens, walls fluttering around his cock, you lose the capacity to speak. you grind your hips against him and cry out pathetically while he pushes you back down and slams ruthlessly into your pussy. 
"cum inside-- please, I need it--" you writhe. he groans at the request. 
"fuck, yes..." he sheathes himself. "take it."
you gasp as he repeatedly hits your weakest point and spills hot ropes of his cum inside you, still thrusting in and out and whimpering into your shoulder at the clenching sensation you give his cock. it's warm, strangely delightful, nearly sending you into another orgasm sheerly from the sight. 
he mutters unintelligibly as he empties himself in your pussy, but you catch a growled "so needy," between deep moans. you're clinging to him like you'll never have it again. you might not. 
he slows down, giving shallower thrusts while riding out his high and shoving his cum deeper inside. it turns lazy and messy, both of you panting, before he finally pulls out and rolls over next to you. 
you press the back of your hand to your forehead. it's sweaty from all the work he just put you through, but you feel amazing at the same time. your eyes keep flickering from the ceiling above to his rising and falling chest beside you. his nose twitches; he turns his head to look at your face. 
although you expect him to say something, he doesn't. instead, you just stare at each other. the air conditioner rattles gently in the background. you're not sure how long this lasts, this soaking in, but he's the first to break it. 
"hey." 
you find the corners of your lips turning up. "hi." 
"do you mind if I go get something to clean you up?" he asks softly, his fingertips finding your forearm with ease and drifting over it.
"sure. bathroom is the first door on the left." 
he gets up and you watch him gather his clothes, eyes glued to his perfect form. you can't believe you just had sex with your veterinarian. you don't regret it at all. 
he wanders out of the room and your eyes follow, only to see Klimt sitting patiently by the door. 
"what are you doing, perv?" you tease as he comes over and leaps up onto the bed. his kitten paws pad over the blankets and settle into the crook of your arm. you smile to yourself, recalling how sweet the vet was with him. "hey, Wes?" you call out. 
"yeah?" he comes back into the room with a warm washcloth and a small smile on his face. 
"would you wanna get coffee or something sometime?" you bite your lip. maybe he doesn't want to go on a date, but it's worth a shot.
"sure." he breaks into a grin that makes you giddy. thank god, because you really were hoping to see him again. 
you can't wait.  
taglist (lmk about adding/removal or add yourself to the list here!): @jareids @reidsconverse @xoxomgg @may-b-a-u-shewritestoo @la-vie-en-amour1 @g0lden-cth @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @kisseslikecoffee @spenxerslut @slutforthegubes @spookydrreid @depressedgothgrl @flipper-kisses @multixfandomwriter​ @willowrose99​ @gingeraleluke​ @chasemoonlight​ @spencerreid9​ 
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bonny-kookoo · 3 years
Text
Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)
Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now
Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg
Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.
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Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.
Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.
But he's an artist, nonetheless.
Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.
Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.
Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.
Jungkook has a problem however.
He's wild.
Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.
And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.
He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.
No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.
He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.
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"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.
"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.
"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.
"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.
"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.
Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-
and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.
But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.
You knew about all of this- and you were still around.
Nothing had changed.
Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.
Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-
You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.
He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?
Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.
No, he refused to deny himself that.
Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.
The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.
You made even the idea of touching fun.
He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.
So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."
He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.
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You were stressing. A little.
Maybe.
Maybe a lot.
Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.
Just great.
Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.
But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.
It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.
You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.
He didn't move.
"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.
He thought it was cute.
"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.
"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.
"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.
"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.
In your own apartment.
What the hell?
If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.
"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.
You liked that.
Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.
Interesting.
"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.
"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.
"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.
"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.
"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.
"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.
Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.
Interesting, again.
Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.
However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.
And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.
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The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.
“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.
“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.
“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.
“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.
This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.
“You’re not ready yet.”
And with that, he turns back to the TV.
You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.
You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.
"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.
Looking at his face is your first mistake.
His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.
"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.
It makes your spine tingle.
"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.
At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.
So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.
He wants to make you understand.
"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.
And you nod.
"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.
"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."
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His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.
"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.
"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.
"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.
"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.
"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.
"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.
"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.
"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.
"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.
"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.
Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?
Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.
"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.
"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.
"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.
Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.
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"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.
"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.
"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.
"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.
"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.
He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.
"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.
"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.
You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.
There's only one way to find out.
You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.
You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.
He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.
His sweater seems soft.
You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.
This is nice.
You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.
This is really nice.
"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.
"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.
"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.
He's glad.
Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.
Jungkook really has it bad.
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You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.
"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.
"Not for food."
He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.
"Or what?"
His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.
"Bunny." You say.
He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.
He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.
"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.
"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.
He's not sorry.
"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.
He almost looks uncertain.
"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.
"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.
You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.
"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.
He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.
Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.
Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-
He's also opening his heart as well.
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Your first time together is slow and comfortable.
It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.
Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.
He has to learn just as much as you do.
"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.
"Can I?"
It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.
"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.
Its after a moment that you realize it.
"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.
"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.
"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.
"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.
You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.
"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.
"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.
Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.
You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.
Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.
He sighs out.
And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.
You really were something else.
He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.
There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.
He's on cloud nine.
You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.
"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.
"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.
"This is a new start, for both of us."
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"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.
"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.
"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.
"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.
"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.
"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.
It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.
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It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.
It would make sense.
“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.
“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.
“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.
He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.
“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..
“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.
“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.
You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.
He can't take his eyes off of you.
He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.
He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.
Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.
You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.
Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.
"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.
You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.
His Baby.
You're his.
He wants you.
It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.
You're his perfect puzzle piece.
He lets go.
"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.
Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.
Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.
He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.
"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.
"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.
"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."
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"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.
It was still new to you.
Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.
"You." You say, and he chuckles.
"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.
"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.
"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.
By now you easily know your way around his apartment.
So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.
He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.
Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.
You love him.
And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.
"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.
Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.
But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.
And he's totally fine with that.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.
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LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP CHAPTER 10
PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!! this chapter features Evil Scientist Lady and her Fucked Up WorldView a LOT, and there are also some Major Plot Events that involve Violence. i will put a summary in the end notes if you decide at any point that this particular chapter is too much - that's super valid! i will also mention here that no main characters are going to die in this story and no one dies in this chapter either.
huge huge thanks to @flamingfawkes for beta’ing!
CW: extreme disregard for human life, mentioned human and animal cruelty, toxic workplace environment, violence (both imagined and actual, mildly graphic), gun mention, minor blood, death threats, extremely unethical character, unethical science, stalking
chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // read it on ao3!
“This is the same result we’ve gotten the last twenty times -”
“I don’t care, Steven, run it again!”
Steven sighs, punching at the keyboard to run the statistical analysis sequence again. “This is ridiculous! I’ve run this sequence so many times it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. Why can’t we just turn in the results we have and -”
“Because she’ll behead us,” James snaps, “and then she’ll destroy our reputations and our families and they’ll get no severance. I have three young children at home, Steven, I need this money.” Steven softens a little, fingers running smoothly over the keys as he combs the data again. Next to him, James has a computer screen full of frame-by-frame stills of what little data they recovered from the probe before it was destroyed; Penny across the room is surrounded by ancient texts a mile high and at least three laptops.
“Why is she so interested in this, anyway?”
“It’s beyond me. Since when do we question the whims of what we’re told to do?”
Steven squints at the screen, pushing his chair back and rubbing at his eyes. “If I have to stare at these numbers for one more second, my brain is going to explode. I feel like my eyeballs are going to melt out of my skull. I wanna scream.”
James pulls up another image, staring at the blurry image of the merman before him. Steven pushes away from his own screen and squints at James’s. The merman in the photo looks young, not much older than his kid brother, but they don’t know anything about the lifespan of these creatures. He looks confused, squinting at the camera. As James flicks through the stills, the merman transitions from confused to angry to enraged, and then he attacks.
“He’s not happy about the camera.”
“Would you be happy about someone spying on you and your family?” James says, switching to the next still.
“I wouldn’t be happy if I thought someone was doing anything we do in this lab to me or my family.” James elbows Steven, but luckily no one else seems to have heard.
“This lab isn’t the most ethical place I’ve ever worked, but it pays the bills,” James mutters. “And we’re not even in the experimentation lab. We just do data analysis. We’re removed from the situation.”
Are we? Steven wonders. He sees James reach out and touch the framed picture of his daughters, and keeps his mouth shut. He turns back to his computer, watching the little spinning color wheel of his mouse as the program calculates the same numbers again and again. The results come up identical to the previous ones, and Steven clicks “Run Program” again wordlessly.
They work in silence for a while, the three of them, broken only by James’s muttering and the occasional thud of one of Penny’s books and the clicks of keyboards and mice. If they weren’t so reliant on technology, Steven thinks, there would be an enormous corkboard spanning three of the four walls, covered in pushpins and handwriting and red string connecting images. He debates actually building one, if only to increase the levity in the room, but decides against it.
He’s seen people punished or fired or who-knows-what-else for far less, after all.
Instead, after his program tells him for the twenty-third time that his results are the same (and didn’t someone say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?), Steven scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms and opens the data entry window. Maybe the problem with the results has to do with the entry of the data; did he input something wrong? It’s possible . . .
Here he goes again, he supposes. He stands up, stretches, and leans back to crack some vertebrae. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, take a short screen break, and go back to the beginning. Maybe there’s something in the input that I missed. You want anything?”
James groans, thunking his head against the desk. “I want something with enough caffeine to kill three elephants, please.” Steven nods, looking over at Penny. She shakes her head, and he heads for the shitty coffee machine a few doors down.
Several floors below, a young woman pulls her lab goggles up to rest on top of her head with her perfectly-pinned protocol-compliant bun. “The latest round of tests is completely done, ma’am. I think you’ll find the efficacy . . . striking.”
She takes the clipboard, glossy perfectly-painted nails pinching the sheets of thin paper and flicking between them. “I’m afraid I don’t do so well with the scientific side of things - Kathleen, was it? Explain this to me, would you?”
“Certainly, ma’am. As you know, the kill time for the most effective neurotoxin currently available, tetrodotoxin, varies from thirty minutes to four hours. Average time for symptoms to manifest is seventeen minutes, and from there the symptoms progress through tingling of the lips and tongue, headache, vomiting, muscle weakness, ataxia, et cetera. Death occurs as a result of respiratory or heart failure, and the poison is nearly undetectable if you do not specifically test for it.”
“The untraceability is a plus, but that is far too wide a range of times, and too slow a time even at its fastest.”
“Of course, ma’am, but as far as naturally-occurring marine poisons go - actually, as far as naturally-occurring poisons go, full stop - it is the most effective. Until now, that is.”
“Oh? What are your findings?”
“Which trials would you like to start with, ma’am?”
“The human trials, Kathleen. The only ones that matter. I hardly intend to go around killing mice and hoping that no one traces their deaths to a novel neurotoxin.” She laughs airily, and Kathleen nods along.
“Certainly, ma’am. The most recent data points indicate an average efficacy time of thirteen minutes for our compound neurotoxin, with a full range between nine and seventeen minutes passing before subject death. Subjects began to show symptoms around five minutes, give or take twenty-five seconds.”
“And those symptoms were?”
Kathleen flips through the document. “Seizures, vital organ failure, blindness, painful muscle spasms, suffocation from the inside out.”
She hums, tapping a manicured finger against the report. “Well, Kathleen, that is certainly impressive, especially for a preliminary human subject trial. These results . . . I must say, they are not nearly as disappointing as I anticipated when I came down here.”
“Ma’am?”
“How long have you worked for this company, Kathleen?”
“Almost five years, ma’am, but I’ve always been an assistant. This is my first time as lead researcher and biochemist on a project, ever since you . . . laid off the previous lead researcher.”
“Kathleen, let me be frank. These results are not what I hoped for. The efficacy time and symptom onset times are both far too long for my liking, and the range of efficacy time is too broad. By all accounts, I should consider this a failure.” Kathleen swallows, but remains poised. “However, you’ve managed to shave off a considerable amount of time from the tetrodotoxin readings. The range of symptom onset time is an acceptable breadth, and your results are far beyond anything your predecessor ever accomplished for me. This is truly impressive, all things considered.”
“Thank you, ma’am. How should I proceed?”
“I want the efficacy doubled - tripled - I want it upped by anywhere between four and five hundred percent. I want the pain increased, too. Feel free to increase your requests for test subjects, but get me the results I want. You said the original tetrodotoxin was untraceable?”
“That’s correct, ma’am.”
“Can you keep that feature intact?”
“As of right now, it is intact, ma’am. I will endeavor to keep it so in future experiments.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to your new position as head of this research division. Don’t let me down.” She holds out a slender hand, and Kathleen takes it, trying not to seem too eager.
“I won’t, ma’am.”
“How soon can you start this experiment up again?”
“The cleaners should be finished by tomorrow morning, ma’am, and I can tweak chemical formulas until then.”
“Excellent.” Her watch beeps, and she lifts it, pursing her bright lips as she examines the message she’s just received. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to. Someone will drop off your master access key for Lab Three within the hour.”
She steps into the elevator and lifts her watch up to her face, swiping through the messages from her secretary. One finger reaches out to press the button for the digital analysis labs floor, and the other taps away at her watch.
When she steps off the elevator, her secretary is waiting. “Ma’am.”
“What do they have for me?”
“Unclear. They said it was something they wanted to report directly to you and you alone, but it seems to be something big.”
“Hopefully it’s a big step in the right direction, or they’ll be taking a big step out of a job.” She relishes in the way the employees she passes all unfailingly flinch and then snap to perfect attention when they hear the sharp echo of her heels against the floor. She lifts her head and walks faster, striking the tiles with her heels like a gavel, sharp and precise against a judge’s desk.
The computer labs are disorganized when she enters, but there is a string of promising-looking numbers on the main display monitor. There is a woman surrounded by books and a man pulling up photos on his computer, and there is a third man standing in front of her like a toy soldier. She focuses on that one.
“I hear you have news for me? Make it swift, and make it good.”
He swallows, hard, and her eyes idly trace the line of his throat. If he disappoints her, perhaps she will drive her heel through it, to make an example of him. That would be far too messy; perhaps his dominant hand will do.
“I have narrowed down the location of the missing net, ma’am. I believe it to have washed up somewhere around these general GPS coordinates.” He fiddles with a remote in his hand, and the image on the screen changes. It shows an aerial satellite view of a secluded strip of beach, framed by rocky cliffs with larger rocks studded out into the open water. “It should have washed up somewhere in this one-point-three-seven-mile strip of beach. The whole area is property of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.”
She snarls. “That man. He won’t let us on that beach willingly until hell freezes over.”
The other man, the one scanning through photo stills and video footage, jumps up, knocking his chair backwards. “I found something!”
She turns towards him, and his excitement freezes and sputters into something much more controlled and terrified. “Show me.” He clicks something and pulls up video footage from one of their surveillance drones, zooming in on a particular patch of ocean along the stretch of Sanders’ beach. Her eyes widen when she sees what he’d noticed - a hump of red-and-white tail arcing above the waves before a pattern of ripples streaks off towards the cliff. He pauses the footage, rewinds it, uses a laser pointer to show an opening concealed in the cliff face.
“There’s some kind of grotto in there, hidden by the cliff. It’s on Sanders’ property, he has to know it’s there. And it looks like the merman from the destroyed drone knows it’s there too. Which means -”
“That must be where he’s keeping them.” Something burns in her chest, brilliant and terrifying and all-encapsulating, like wildfire. “We’ve found them, at long last.”
“What would you have me do?” her secretary asks. “I can arrange for a recovery squad at your earliest possible convenience, ma’am.”
“Assemble the squad, but do not have them move out. They will wait for my orders. When they go, you are to go with them.” Her secretary nods, once, sharp and sure. “Dispatch a crew to Lab One and clear it out. I want it prepped for containment, vivisection, chemical tests - the works. Get at least three tanks set up and one strap-down human table.”
“A human table, ma’am?”
“Yes. We have to deal with Sanders once and for all to ensure that he does not ruin any future experiments.”
“Will we be taking him as well?”
She hums thoughtfully. “No. Pull up the file we have on his known associate?”
A few swift clicks and flicks and a photo appears on the large screen: a young man with brown-and-purple hair, sleeves rolled up, carefully lowering a perfectly viable specimen into the ocean and letting it go, like some kind of fool. “His doctoral student, ma’am. The longest one he’s ever kept - this one has been with him a few years.”
“Excellent. When you raid the lab, take him.”
“Should we kill Sanders?”
“No. Rough him up a little, but leave him alive. Taking his protégé and leaving him alone, helpless to rescue him, will be the highest form of torture for such an insufferable person. The agony will eat him alive until his dying day.”
Her secretary nods, taking the notes down dutifully. The other employees look vaguely horrified, but she pays them no mind. No sacrifice is too great to be made in the name of progress, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a weakling who will never get anywhere in life.
She refuses to be one of those weaklings.
*~*~*~*~*
Logan wakes up confused.
He’s warm, warmer than he thinks he’s ever been in his whole life. When he stirs, he moves farther than he meant to - he must not be underwater. That’s enough to send a jolt of concern through his sleep-addled brain. Why isn’t he underwater? Why was he sleeping if he was above the surface? There’s no way his dad is here, and Roman hates surfacing, where are they? Where is he? But he’s so comfortable . . .
Someone shifts beside him, an arm draping across his waist, and Logan forces his eyes open. He shifts his lower half, confused when two things move instead of one, and there are layers upon layers of thin, flat, soft things wrapping around him. What is happening?
Slowly, slowly, his mind clears, and he remembers the events of last night. He grew legs - he was a human, once, before he was mer - he couldn’t sleep underwater with Dad and Roman - Virgil was teaching him to walk - Virgil put “clothes” on him - Virgil was embarrassed that he didn’t have those “clothes” on him - Virgil took him out of the lab to sleep - Virgil agreed to cuddle him since his pod couldn’t -
Logan feels the strange burning in his face again as he shifts. He can’t see well in this new human form, but when things are close enough to his face they’re relatively clear. And Virgil, still sleeping, is close enough that Logan can smell him - he smells like salt water mixed with something sharp and something sweet and something else that Logan can’t quite identify but finds addicting nonetheless. Sunlight streams in and pools around Virgil’s face, illuminating the tangled mess of hair spread around him and flopping into his face, the small puddle of water leaking out from his open mouth onto the soft thing he’s resting his head on, the way his chest moves slowly with every breath. His arm is wrapped around Logan, pulling him close. Logan thinks he might explode if he focuses on this any more, so he rolls from his side to his back as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake Virgil. Virgil tightens his arm around Logan and mutters something indecipherable in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.
Rather than focusing on his very confusing feelings for the very pretty man next to him, Logan focuses on what he can see of the room around him. He makes a list in his mind of things that he plans to ask Virgil about later today, including:
1: There are many draws attached to the small, smooth cliffs surrounding them. How do they stay there?
2: There are lots of “clothes” scattered all around the floor, and there were several on the bed, too. Is that normal for humans?
3: Last night, Virgil did something that made the room light up with trapped sunlight! How did he do that?
4: How did Virgil get ice to stay in those big frozen sheets in such a warm place to let the sunlight in?
5: How did Virgil make ice into that weird shape that he filled with water and drank last night?
6: How did Virgil get the water to come into this place?
7: Do all humans have a specific area set aside for sleeping? Logan and his pod usually just sleep wherever they can, but Virgil seems to have this soft slab set aside with all of these soft things to be comfortable and sleep in every night. Is this a Human Thing or strictly a Virgil Thing?
Logan looks out through the sheet of ice that protects Virgil’s area from the outside and gasps. He can’t see well, but there’s a glittering expanse of blue that shifts and moves and oh, is that the ocean?
He’s spent his whole life (well, his whole remembered life, anyways) in the ocean, and he’s seen some truly wondrous things. He travels around the world with his pod, he knows the ocean is big, but seeing it spread out like this is . . . awe-inspiring. Logan has never seen the ocean like this, and now that he has he doesn’t think he can ever not see it like this again. It’s like a perfect sheet of sea-glass, rippling and unbroken but dynamic in a way that he never really gets a sense of when he’s beneath it.
He knows that there are waves, of course. There are smaller swells out on the open ocean, and larger ones when the Second Goddess dips her fingers down from the Upper Ocean and swirls the storms to a thundering burst. There are waves along the shoreline, ones that he frolics in with Roman and batter him against the shoreline. There are waves created when he or his pod members surface. But watching the movement of the ocean from up here is . . .
Even with his imperfect vision, he is completely at a loss for words as he stares at the ocean.
Eventually, Virgil stirs next to him, and Logan turns away from the ocean to stare at him. Virgil is close to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed against him. Logan’s eyesight is not great, but Virgil is close enough that he can pick out little details of his face. There are brown face scales scattered all over him, but they seem to cluster on his nose and his cheeks. Logan has wanted to touch them for a substantial amount of time, and he can’t stop himself from gently settling the tips of his fingers over Virgil’s cheek.
His face doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting. The scales don’t give texture to his face the way that Logan’s do; the skin is smooth and flat. There are little bumps all over, but the brown scales aren’t raised off the skin like Logan expected. He lets his fingers trail along Virgil’s face. His bone structure seems to be exceedingly similar to Logan’s, at least in regards to his head. Logan’s finger rests gently on the curve of bone under Virgil’s eye, and Virgil exhales warm breath onto his palm.
Logan wonders what it would be like to have this for longer than just his recovery period. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Virgil all the time, to get to run his hands over Virgil’s face and arms and chest and examine the differences between their anatomy. He wonders what it would be like to learn to walk without falling over, and he feels a sharp, unexpected twinge in his chest as he realizes that getting better at walking means no more closeness to Virgil.
His chest feels strange, like there’s a school of small fish swarming around and tickling his insides and making him feel all foamy, like the froth churned up by a windswept sea. He feels like he does when he’s underwater - free, weightless, mobile, limited by nothing except his own imagination. He feels unstoppable.
Virgil makes a sudden, sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open slowly. Logan thinks that, perhaps, he might not appreciate being studied unknowingly - he hadn’t appreciated Virgil doing it, before he understood what was happening, when all he knew was the loss of his pod aching like a scraped-out seashell. As Virgil wakes up, Logan shifts, turning his gaze to the rest of the room.
Virgil makes a sleepy grumbling noise, opening one eye. Logan chances another quick glance at him, and when his eye slides open Logan is struck by its beauty. He doesn’t get much of a chance to admire it, however, before Virgil is jolting backwards like Logan’s struck him with lightning. Logan is confused, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Virgil?”
“Wassat?! Wait . . . L’gan?”
“It is me,” Logan says softly. “Are - are you upset with me?”
Virgil yawns, jaw dropping to his chest, revealing a flash of teeth and a soft pink tongue. (Logan wants to lick it. Why does Logan want to lick it? Why is Logan thinking about Virgil’s tongue licking his tongue - why is Logan thinking about Virgil - what in the Seven Oceans is happening to him.) “Wh - no, no, ‘m okay, I just - woke up, forgot I had you with me, got confused about another person in my bed.” Before Logan can start to feel bad, Virgil adds, “S’okay if it’s you, though,” and the foamy, floaty feeling is back.
“Did you sleep well?”
Virgil laughs, low and rumbling, and Logan can feel it in his fingers where he touches Virgil’s skin. “I never sleep well.” He sits up, and the fabric of his pajamas shifts to let Logan see stretches of soft, supple skin that he usually doesn’t. Logan wants to touch it. He very determinedly keeps his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Gotta admit, though, last night was . . . better than usual.”
This appears to be the point where Virgil first notices their position - pressed together, arm slung over Logan, basically cuddling the way that Logan normally would with his pod. (No tangle with his pod has ever felt this . . . electric, this charged, this important to Logan before.) His face flares a brilliant red, and he shifts like he wants to move away but -
“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No!” Logan blurts out. Virgil blinks at him a little, and maybe he was a little overly enthusiastic, but - “I sleep in a tangle with Dad and Roman all the time. I have extreme difficulty sleeping without contact with someone else. It . . . helped me greatly.”
“Oh,” Virgil says, face turning redder still, smiling shyly. “That - makes me feel better. Thanks, Lo.”
Logan smiles, and Virgil smiles too, reaching up to gently move a piece of hair away from his face. Logan thinks that, as far as deaths go, his chest exploding (which seems to be getting more and more likely every fifteen seconds he spends in Virgil’s presence, only accelerated by all this skin-on-skin contact they’re having right now) seems to be the most pleasurable.
Virgil opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was is interrupted by a Ping! noise from across the room. “What is that?” Logan asks. Virgil, sadly, untangles himself from Logan and the blankets, sliding out of bed and heading over to one of the other structures in the room (what did he call it last night? Dex?) and picking up a flat glowing rectangle.
“Is everything alright?”
“What? Yeah, yeah, I - Thomas sent me a text, it’s a little weird.”
“What is a text?”
“It’s a kind of human messaging system, it allows us to communicate when we’re far away from each other.”
“Like a pod call?” “Kind of? I’ll explain more later, I promise, I just - I gotta go down to the lab real quick.”
“I’ll come with -”
“No!” Virgil snaps. Logan flinches, and Virgil softens, crossing the room and gently touching his shoulder. “Hey, no, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just - this message, there’s something off. I think something might be wrong, and I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Just - wait here, okay? Wait in my room, where it’s safe. It’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine, but on the off chance that he’s not, I want you to stay hidden safely up here.”
Logan isn’t sure why this makes his face heat up slightly, but it does. “Okay. I accept your apology, and I . . . trust you.”
Virgil smiles, soft and heartwarming, and Logan is beginning to give more credence to his “chest explosion is fine, actually” theory. “Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”
He leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the foamy feeling in Logan’s chest dissipates a little. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something . . . off. If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think that he was sensing a predator approaching.
But that can’t be right, he isn’t underwater. His danger senses are likely just overreacting to his disappointment at Virgil’s absence.
. . . Right?
*~*~*~*~*
Thomas is beginning to regret letting Roman and Patton (specifically, Roman) out of the large tank before finishing his first coffee of the morning.
“I want some!” Roman complains.
“Do you even know what it is?” Thomas says. Roman pouts sulkily at him.
“. . . No,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Thomas gives him the deadpan, no-nonsense, I-am-your-direct-superior-take-the-damn-samples-Virgil stare that he has perfected over the past few years. Roman wilts a little more, and Thomas feels slightly bad.
“It’s called coffee,” he says. “It’s a hot drink that lots of people have in the morning. Some people drink it plain, and some people add things to it to change the way it tastes. It helps me wake up more and get focused to start my day, and sometimes I drink it late at night to help keep me awake.”
Roman looks less like a kicked puppy and more like Logan, eyes wide and curious. “I want some!”
Thomas, taking a sip of his own two-seconds-of-cream-five-cubes-of-sugar coffee, nearly spits it out. He looks at Roman, eyes the very sharp, very detachable, very toxic spines covering his body, and says, “No.”
Roman’s demeanor changes entirely, switching from “curious toddler” to “toddler about to throw a temper tantrum” in a heartbeat. “Why not?!”
“Because when people drink coffee without being used to it, sometimes it makes them a little crazy.”
“I’m not crazy!”
“Do I need to recount to you how many times you’ve threatened me and my assistant since we met you?” Thomas says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you coffee until I know I can trust you not to stab me with your poisonous spines that cover your entire body and can be fired at people.”
Roman pouts more, dropping under the water and letting out a gratingly harmonious string of mer that Thomas is pretty sure translates to Roman bitching about the coffee situation to his dad. Based on the pattern of Patton’s response, he’s pretty sure Patton is laughing at Roman.
More sulky chalkboard-violin music, and then Roman resurfaces grumpily. “Dad agrees with you and says no consuming strange human foods.”
“Did he laugh at you?”
Roman squints suspiciously at him. “You can’t speak our language.”
“Yeah, but I know what it sounds like when a dad laughs at his kid.” Roman, continuing to pout, sinks back into the tank, presumably to sulk some more. Thomas takes another very long sip of coffee that is definitely too hot for his mouth and turns back to his desk.
Virgil should definitely be awake and in the lab at this point. The samples he’s supposed to be analyzing are sitting in their little tubes, each neatly labelled with locations and dates and times and what, specifically, Virgil is supposed to be looking for. Thomas considers going upstairs and waking up Virgil, who’s almost never been late for work in this way, but he decides against it. Virgil is upstairs with Logan, and Thomas knows that there’s something building between them. He’s not sure how advisable that something is, but he trusts Virgil to make his own decisions.
Besides, he could probably use some practice. His water sample analysis skills are pretty rusty, he’s had Virgil doing them for years. “Virgil, you owe me big time for what I’m doing for you.” He carefully shifts the samples over to his own desk, slides his earbuds in, picks up a pipette, and gets to work analyzing the bacterial and algal concentrations for any abnormalities.
Thomas accomplishes about forty-five minutes’ worth of work before Roman interrupts him by flicking water at him and soaking the back of his neck. “Hey!”
“I tried your name, but your little ear bug things were keeping you from hearing me,” Roman says smugly. Thomas, not for the first time, considers retreating to the closet and throwing beakers until he feels better.
“Can I help you?”
“Dad wants to go hunting and bring back breakfast, but we can’t leave without you.”
“Are you not going hunting?”
“I’m going to stay here and observe you,” Roman says.
Thomas blinks. “Do I . . . need observing?”
“How do I know you won’t sell us out to your little human friends the second you get a chance? If I’m here, I can stop you. Plus, what if you do something to Logan while we’re not here to protect him? No, no, I’m staying right where I am and you can’t make me leave.” His spines ripple; Thomas steps closer to a whiteboard in case he needs to duck.
“I’m not going to do that, and I don’t want you to stab me.”
“Still! I’m staying here! Also, Dad’s bigger than me, and he’s a better hunter cause he’s faster and he’s been hunting longer.
“Does he need something to help him carry all those fish?” Thomas asks. Roman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something snarky, pauses, and stops.
“I . . . usually we just eat what we catch when we catch it. We make a pile of prey and take turns guarding it while the other two hunt. Then we make a sacrifice to the Seven Mother Goddesses and eat what’s left.”
After some debate, Thomas is able to fashion a sling of sorts from some waterproof tarps and leftover anchor rope to tie around Patton’s body. “You can put the fish in this pouch and carry them back here. Will you be able to navigate your way back to the grotto?”
“He will,” Roman says. “Dad knows more about the ocean than any human possibly could.” Another discordant song from the tank, chastising, and Roman huffs. “Dad wants me to reassure you that he’ll be fine.”
Patton settles into the mobile tank easily, and Thomas gets him down to the grotto leading towards the sea. “When you come back, let out one of your pod calls and Virgil or I will come and collect you and your catch. Take as much time as you need, okay?”
Patton reaches up and gently pats Thomas’s arm with one large, damp hand, and Thomas takes that to mean an agreement. “Alright, off you go.” There’s a whoosh and a rush of water as it flows from the tank into the grotto in a clean arc, carrying Patton with it. Thomas waits for a moment, letting Patton disappear into the open ocean, before returning to the laboratory.
Roman, for the most part, ignores Thomas. He asks the occasional question, which Thomas tries to answer in a way that he’ll understand, and leans over the edge of his touch tank, eyes guarded. Every time Thomas sneaks a glance, when he thinks Roman isn’t looking, his expression is wide-eyed and wondrous, like Logan’s usually are, but the moment he realizes Thomas is watching him his entire face closes up like a clamshell.
Thomas wonders what it’ll take to get Roman to trust him, trust Virgil, trust any human. Granted, he doesn’t know Roman’s history with humans, but he and Patton are both fairly scarred, and Thomas might not know the whole story but he’d bet a not-insignificant amount of his monthly income that the giant starburst scar taking up the majority of Patton’s chest isn’t the result of a clash with a marine creature.
He works quietly, fielding the occasional question, keeping one ear on the grotto tunnel for Patton’s return. He’s not sure how long he expected Patton to be gone, but he hears movement in the grotto tunnel far sooner than he’d expected.
“Thomas, what’s -”
“Shhhh,” Thomas says. He stands up, pushing away from his desk, but before he can say anything else, there’s a flood of movement coming from the tunnel. Bodies pour into the lab, swift and strong and carrying weapons that they immediately train on Thomas and Roman.
“What is this?” Roman snaps, bristling. He sounds betrayed, like he thinks Thomas is behind this. Thomas picks up a heavy glass beaker, fully prepared to shatter it upside someone’s skull if necessary, but something heavy and hard strikes the back of his skull and he feels his knees crumple. Roman cries out, and Thomas struggles to push himself up. A hand fists itself in his hair and yanks him upright, sharply. Thomas exhales sharply through his teeth, but before he can start struggling, something cool and round rests against the back of his neck, shutting him up and shutting his brain down.
Roman is puffed up like a hedgehog, apparently fully prepared to defend Thomas despite his strong and inherent mistrust. Before he can begin to attack, Thomas hears the click-click-click of shoes on the hard stone floor. Whoever’s holding his head yanks him back again, and he is forced to watch as a woman walks into his laboratory.
(It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke - a sick, horrible, twisted joke.)
She has black heels, black tights, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer, and a blood-red blouse. Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, pulled so taut it must hurt, and is held in place with a pitch black stick. She carries a - clipboard? tablet? Unclear - held against her chest, and there’s a sleek silver weapon in her right hand.
“The one from the video?” she asks.
“Affirmative, ma’am,” says the person holding Thomas’s head. The woman nods, lifting her weapon, and fires at Roman. Thomas tries to scream a warning, earning himself another painful yank from his captor, but the projectile lodges itself in Roman’s shoulder anyway.
It isn’t a bullet, but something that looks like a small syringe. Roman swats it out of his shoulder, swaying a little, but it doesn’t stop him from swiping at the - mercenary, they must be - who tries to grab him with his elbow spines. The woman frowns, lifts the weapon - some kind of tranquilizer gun? - and fires again.
Roman screams, inhuman and animal, and tears the newest dart from his arm, throwing himself out of his tank and clinging to the nearest mercenary. His teeth tear into the man’s shoulder, spines piercing through his camouflage clothing and flooding him with neurotoxin. The man collapses against the concrete, alive but unconscious, and Roman snarls at the next man as though daring him to approach. He sways, weakened but awake, and bares his teeth.
“Of course,” the woman says, tapping something on her tablet. “His naturally produced neurotoxin must be providing him with some level of natural resistance. Unexpected, but not a limitation.”
It takes three more tranquilizer darts before Roman finally slumps down into his tank, unconscious. The mercenaries look hesitant to approach him, but the woman reaches for her tablet and they scramble to action at once.
“No - no, stop, let him go, he’s not an animal for you to cart off to your lab -” Thomas starts. The man holding him knees him sharply in the back and he cries out, coughing.
They wrap Roman in thick leather bands, roughly shoving his spines flat and binding them against his skin so that he can’t attack them again. The woman nods, once, short and sharp, and they drag Roman away, letting his head bang mercilessly on the ground. Thomas catches a glimpse of a logo - emblazoned on the back of the jackets, on the back of the woman’s tablet, on the side of her tranquilizer gun - and commits it to memory. He’s going to need it, if he gets out of here alive.
“- your phone,” the woman says, and oh, when did she get in front of him.
“My what?”
His mouth runs dry as she places the tranquilizer gun under his chin, barrel pressing against his throat, and tips his chin up. “I said, give me your phone.”
Thomas blinks. “My - the desk. It’s on the desk.”
She sets her tablet down, picks up his phone, and shoves it in his face. “Open it.”
“I - wh -”
“Unlock your phone, Dr. Sanders. Must I repeat myself a third time?” She rolls her eyes. “Doctorates are wasted on people like you.”
Thomas numbly punches in his passcode, and she swipes through to his messages app, frowning before turning the screen towards his face to reveal a message thread with Virgil. “Is this your assistant?”
Thomas glares at her, he’s not going to give her what she wants, he’s not going to just give her Virgil but then the - gun, it must be a gun, what else would they be holding against his neck like this - pushes into him harder, and it’s probably bruising, and he can’t get himself killed here because then he definitely won’t be able to take care of Virgil and -
“Yes,” Thomas says, hating himself for giving in so easily. “What do you -”
She turns away from him, nails clicking against his phone screen as she sends a text message - to Virgil, presumably, and that makes his heart sink like a stone - before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it to shatter it. “I have a message for you.”
“A - what?”
“Did they really hit you that hard, or were you this stupid before we came here?” she says coldly, picking up the tablet again and tapping at the screen. Thomas groans as the man yanks him to his feet, shoving him onto his chair and pulling a roll of duct tape out of one of his multiple pants pockets. He tapes Thomas’s wrists and ankles to the chair, keeping his weapon trained on Thomas’s temple at all times, before pressing it roughly against his head and gripping his hair again.
The woman sets the tablet on his lab table, and the screen flickers to life, and then there’s a woman in front of a dark black backdrop, smiling at him like a cat who’s caught a canary. “Thomas Sanders. How long I’ve waited for this day.”
Thomas recognizes her. He knows he recognizes her. She used to be his classmate, before . . .
His head hurts, so badly that he can barely keep his eyes open, and the memory slips away. “You . . . why are you doing this?”
“Why? Because I am a real scientist, unlike you. You refuse to do what is necessary, what must be done for the progression of the species. The sacrifice of some worthless animals is necessary for humanity to reach its zenith. You would really hinder the entire human race for the preservation of lower life forms?”
“Wh - I -”
“You think that ‘preserving the ecosystem’ and ‘keeping animals alive’ makes you a good scientist, but it makes you weak. You are weak, Thomas Sanders, and if the world was left in the hands of people like you, the human race as we know it would die out in a few centuries. Fortunately, there are people like me, who understand what must be done.”
“Caring about other people and things - it doesn’t - it doesn’t make you weak,” Thomas says, chest heaving, and the woman just laughs.
“One of many logical fallacies to which you subscribe, Thomas. They really gave you a doctorate? Of course caring makes you weak. All emotions make you weak. They corrupt your data and make your experiments worthless. You must be ruthless. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to pursue your goals and achieve the height of success. But no.” She rolls her eyes, face hardening, twirling a pen in her fingers. “You insist on ethics and principles and letting emotions cloud your judgement, and that makes you a failure as a scientist. It makes you weak. Your attachments will be your downfall.”
Thomas’s eyes slide shut, head pounding, and the man behind him yanks at his hair so sharply that he knows some has been ripped out. He forces his eyes open in time to see a smile slide across the woman’s face like a knife, teeth gleaming white as sun-bleached bone.
“You won’t - get away with this,” Thomas manages. He grinds his teeth together and curls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself awake. “If you leave me alive -” Thomas, stop talking, why are you reminding her that she has the option to fucking kill you “- I will not rest until I find you. I’ll - you can’t -”
“You’ll what, Thomas? If you call the police, you’ll expose those creatures you’re so intent on protecting to the world. Are you really willing to take that chance?” Before Thomas can even begin formulating a response, she steamrolls him. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were, I’m going to take some . . . insurance, shall we say.”
“Why not just kill me?” Thomas spits. Excellent idea, Doc, poke the murderous lady with a stick like a god damn hornet’s nest, the tiny Virgil in his brain hisses. Her smile, somehow, only widens, and that’s . . . that can’t be good, can it? Smiles are supposed to be good! They’re supposed to make you happy, but all Thomas feels is creeping dread and pain, so much pain, and -
Yeah. He’s . . . pretty sure he has a concussion.
“Because if I kill you, you get to take the easy way out. Your suffering will end. But unlike you, I don’t put limits on my science. I know how to cause you the maximum amount of pain.”
Thomas eyes the toxin gun, but the on-screen woman just laughs. “Not yet, Thomas. We need something from you, first.”
“You already took Roman,” Thomas says. “What more can you possibly take from me?”
“You named it? You’re even weaker than I thought.”
“He told me his name, he’s not an it, he’s not a thing for you to play with and - and I -”
There’s a strange sinking feeling in Thomas’s chest as the woman onscreen laughs. “I knew you were emotional, Thomas, but I can’t believe this! It looks like I’ll have more hanging over your head than you thought.”
“You -”
“Say, Tommy-boy, have you heard from your precious little assistant recently?”
Thomas’s entire body flushes ice-cold and then white-hot, immediately struggling against his duct tape bindings despite the man tearing at his hair and shoving the gun into his neck and snapping at him to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up before I do something we’re both gonna regret -
“Don’t you touch him!” Thomas snaps. “If you hurt him, I swear to God -”
“You’re not in a position to be making demands, and if you don’t calm down, I’ll paint your boring little lab bright red.” Thomas freezes, holding his entire body tensed like electricity is running through his blood.
There are footsteps on the stairs. “Doc? I got your text, what’s -”
“Virgil, run!” Thomas chokes. Virgil comes around the corner, holding his phone, staring at the screen in confusion. He looks up, eyes widening in horror as he takes in the scene.
“You know what to do,” the woman onscreen says. The other woman lifts her tranquilizer gun, and Thomas is sure that he’s screaming, his mouth is open and sound is coming out but his blood is rushing through his ears and his heart is pounding like waves against a boat in rough sea and he can’t - he can’t -
Virgil turns to run, but the tranquilizer dart hits in him the back of the neck and he collapses like a sack of bricks. The woman lowers her gun and jerks her head at the two remaining conscious, unoccupied mercenaries, who step forward and grab Virgil.
“Let him go!” Thomas screams, and his throat feels raw and his chest feels raw and his wrists are rubbed raw and his soul feels hollow and raw, like he’s been scraped out with a jagged piece of metal and only an empty shell remains. Virgil’s head lolls against his chest as they drag him down the grotto tunnel, and Thomas struggles and screams and stares after them until Virgil is out of sight.
His face is damp, and his eyes are burning, and he isn’t sure if it’s blood from his head wound or tears or some strange, morbid mixture of both.
“The greatest torture of which I can conceive,” the woman onscreen says, and it takes him a moment to realize that oh, she’s talking to me, “is to leave you alive, knowing that your precious little protégé is with me, and that there is nothing you can do about it.” She leans forward, and any trace of a smile is gone. “If you try to come after me, I will kill him. If you call the authorities, I will kill him. I already found you, Thomas. Don’t think I’m not watching. If I catch so much as a whiff of you planning something, his blood will be on your hands. Do you understand me?”
Thomas, numb and shocked, can’t even respond. “Knock him out and bring the specimens back to me,” the woman onscreen says.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He doesn’t even feel the tranquilizer dart hit his neck, but he welcomes the sweeping darkness.
(Summary: Evil Scientist Lady has been spying on Thomas and she finds the entrance to the grotto where our mer friends have been hiding. She sends her assistant and several armed thugs to invade the lab, they drug Roman with tranquilizers and kidnap him. Thomas gets knocked around a lot and is mocked for being an ethical scientist and caring about people by Evil Scientist Lady and she gloats at him through Evil Facetime before kidnapping Virgil in the same way they did Roman, knocking Thomas unconscious, and leaving him tied to his lab chair. During this whole scene, Patton is out in the open ocean hunting and Logan is safely hidden in Virgil's room.)
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gr-ogu · 3 years
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Hello! As requested, here is a tutorial on how I make my gifs. I would like to preface this by saying there are many ways to make gifs, and there’s no right or wrong answer imo. This is just how I personally go about doing so!
I will be using PS CC 2017, but as long as you have the video timeline option, it shouldn’t matter too much; on any version of PS, you should be able to adapt anything I mention here! You will also need some kind of screen recording software. I’ll talk a little more about that under the cut.
To start, you need the source material you will be making the gifs from! I get mine from snahp(.)it (avoiding links so tumblr hopefully doesn’t banish this from the tags lmao) and I always opt for either 1080p or 2160p. Not all laptops will support 2160p as it’s 4K, but either works great! You just want your gifs to be the best quality possible.
Next is where the screen recording comes in. I don’t use the screencapping method to make my gifs (where you use a program to cap a clip and then load those caps into a stack in PS). This isn’t for any particular reason… it’s just how my friends, (who very kindly taught me to gif), had always done it, so it’s now how I do it too. Personally, I find the quality to be just as good as the screencapping method, and have never noticed a difference between the two.
As I have a PC, I use the software built into it for screen-recording. If you go here: theverge(.)com/2020/4/21/21222533/record-screen-pc-windows-laptop-xbox-game-bar-how-to – you can see how to use the XBOX screenrecorder to record from files you have d*wnloaded. This also works on some streaming sites, but I think it depends on what browser you use. Personally, I recommend Firefox, as that seems to bypass a lot of the blocking and ads that occur when trying to do this sort of thing.
For MAC users, I have been told handbrake works well, as it converts MKV files to MP4, which can then be used to make gifs. You only need to convert part of the file to MP4 depending on how much you want to gif, and this also bypasses the screenrecording stage, as you can edit MP4 clips on Quicktime. I am told you can split them into smaller clips by going to edit > trim and it saves the new clip!
I have also used anyvideoconverter for small clips, but I can’t say what it does to the quality of your video, or how big of a file it lets you put in! With the XBOX screenrecorder, it doesn’t matter what type of video files you get, as the recording will save to MP4 anyway.
LOADING YOUR FRAMES
Now, go ahead and record whatever clips you want to gif. Make sure you have the video timeline open, by going to window > timeline. Then, go to file > import > video frames to layers.
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Next, select and open your clip from where it has saved (with the XBOX recorder, it saves in video > captures). You should see a little window pop up, where you can move the sliders back and forth to clip your recording to whichever part(s) you specifically want to gif. I recommend trying not to load a lot of frames into photoshop at once, but I would be a hypocrite to say that, since I do it a lot lmao. Just be patient if you do!
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Once you have chosen the length, click okay. Never, EVER, I repeat NEVER click the button that says “limit to every __ frames”. This really ruins the flow and quality of your gif—it’s better to have shorter, but smoother gifs, I promise. And with tumblr’s new 10 MB limit, it shouldn’t be a problem anyway!
Then, your frames should open up. What we want to do is make them into a smart object, so we can edit all the layers at the same time. To do this, click the small button in the left-hand corner. ALWAYS click this first. If you don’t, it will only convert the first frame to a smart object and the gif won’t work.
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Give it a second to sort itself out, then, on the right-hand side, select all your frames at once using the shift key.
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Then, go to filter > convert for smart filters. This might take a minute. Don’t click anything else in case PS gets angry lmao, just leave it for a second and it’ll do its thing. The more frames you have, the longer it takes! Now we have our gif, but it needs to be cropped, sharpened and coloured!
CROPPING
You want to start by selecting the rectangular marquee tool on the left-hand side, then drag it across by clicking and highlighting the area you would like to crop your gif to, like so:
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What I tend to do is select everything inside the black lines you sometimes get around your gif (this depends on what file you d*wnload), and also the tiniest bit inside the sides. This is because I’ve found if you crop it right up to the edge, you get a tiny bit of transparency on the sides of your gifs, which I’d rather avoid.
Once you have your desired selection, go to image > crop. Now, the dimensions for tumblr are 540px width, so all your gifs have to be that width. However, the length is up to you. I really like big gifs, so sometimes I even make a full square, or even longer. It’s entirely up to you, and what kind of set you want to make.
For the purposes of this gif, I will stick to what I usually go for, 540px by 350 px. This will mean you’ll have to crop some width off, but that’s okay, since Marisa isn’t central anyway. The cropping is always trial and error for me, as sometimes people move out of the frame within in the gif. The best thing to do is just try it, and then move the slider in the timeline window at the bottom to see if the person stays inside the gif, and if not, adjust accordingly.
Next, go to image > image size:
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In this box, if I put the width as 540, the gif is a smaller height than I want, as it keeps to the dimensions of the gif when you load it into PS. That’s okay, just put the height you want instead, and we’ll crop off the excess.
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Then click OK. Using the rectangular marquee tool again, we need to remove the excess width. Part of the reason I like this version of PS is that it tells you the width of your selection as you do it, but you can always use the ruler as a guide, and check the size of your image by going to image > image size again.
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Again, use image > crop, and your gif should now be the correct size!
You can also use the crop tool in the timeline window to crop the length of your gif:
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However, I tend to wait until later on to do this (which will be explained further down!)
SHARPENING
Next you want to go to filter > sharpen > smart sharpen.
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These are my settings. However, 0.4px is very sharp, too much so, but that’s easily fixed.
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Go to filter > blur > Gaussian blur and then set it to 1.0.
Now on the right-hand side, we need to reduce the blur, so double click the little adjustment button, and change the opacity of the blur. I usually go for 20-30%!
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Then click OK, and that’s your sharpening done!
COLOURING
I picked this scene on purpose as it’s dark, so good for showing how to colour a gif. I have a base psd which consists of some very basic adjustments, but it mostly exists so I don’t forget what adjustment layers I like to use. I adjust them every time I make a gif, essentially colouring each gif from scratch.
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In this case, the psd actually makes it darker. So, what I will do is turn each layer off, and adjust as I go. A lot of people say using lots of adjustment layers ruins the quality of your gif… I have never found this to be true, as long as you are gentle with them. If you whack the brightness right up to the top, it’s going to ruin your gif no matter if you use 1 adjustment layer or 100. I would just say use your common sense, and adjust a little at a time!
I start with a simple black to white gradient map set to soft light, because I think it helps you see depth once you add some brightness to it. I usually do this on about 10%, or more if needed. It’s probably unnecessary, I just like how it looks!
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Then, I move onto using curves and levels. This is where things can diverge depending on who you’re colouring. If this person is white, it doesn’t matter too much. If they’re not white, you don’t want to white wash them. My best advice is to play around with it. By adding vibrance and other (usually the red) selective colour settings later, you can ensure you don’t change the person’s skin tone from what it originally was. You can also use layer masks at varying opacities (various shades of grey), on your curves and levels, to remove some brightening so that you’re not changing anyone’s skin colour. Just brighten slowly and check in with yourself honestly about how your gif looks.
Some people don’t like using levels, or curves. It’s completely up to you. I tend to use both because levels are good for bringing depth, even if not brightening (though I like to use them for that as well). 
One thing you can do is use the white point of the gif to make PS adjust the curves itself, however I like to drag the sliders myself and see what it looks like. Just make sure it’s not too bright, as we will be using further layers to brighten more, after.
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Next is levels. The slider on the left controls the black point, the one in the middle controls the midtones, and the one on the right controls the white points. The black brings depth, the midtones adjust the overall brightness, and the white points produce stronger highlights. Again, you’ll get a feel for how this works as you practice. Just don’t use the white point excessively, especially if your characters are not white.
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Then I add vibrance (+20!), because we’ve removed a lot of it when lightening the gif. Next is exposure, which I find brings out the highlight and shadow areas more effectively:
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Then colour balance! This helps with scenes that might be a certain colour, i.e. too blue, too green, too red, etc. Moving the sliders in the opposite direction of the colour your gif is will counteract it. The best thing to do when accounting for different colours, is to make a new layer every time you change colour, so that you don’t get confused. I always add a new layer for colour balance and selective colour if I want to change more than one thing. So one for red, one for yellow, one for pink, etc. 
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A layer of brightness just to make the gif pop, and because the scene is extra dark, I added a very gentle extra curves layer:
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SAVING YOUR GIF
Time to save the gif. You can go ahead and file > export > save for web (legacy) now, but then you’ll have to reopen the gif to reset the frame rate from 0.07, to 0.05. Instead of doing that, I use a modified action. The original was made by the very talented @elenafisher! So I do not take credit for that at all. You can find the original here: elenafisher(.)tumblr(.)com/post/190817437374/gif-sharpening-action-2-preview-download and in my resources tag. Please reblog it if you’re going to use this!
To use an action, first make sure you have actions turned on in window > actions. To load in your action, go to the little lines circled, and then load the action from your downloads:
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Obviously if you don’t want to sharpen your gifs yourself, you can use the action as it is, and it will give you a beautiful glowing effect. If you’d just like to use it to flatten your gif into frames like I do, make sure to take out all the items I have highlighted:
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Until it looks like this!
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Make sure you have the layer under the file name highlighted, and then click the play button at the bottom! (If you get a screen saying select all frames cannot be found, don’t worry, just click continue!) You can delete the layer that does that if you want, I just keep it in case I realise I’ve forgotten to do something, because you can click cancel and edit your gif before you flatten it. Of course you can undo the steps to get back to the smart object version of your gif, it just takes longer!
And now your gif is in frames and set to 0.05 already, so you don’t have to change the speed! All you need to do now before saving is change the gif cycle to “forever” in the bottom left-hand corner:
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Then to save the gif go to file > export > save for web (legacy). Sometimes, the gif is bigger than the tumblr 10MB limit. You’ll be able to see this in the bottom left-hand corner of the gif save settings. If this is the case, I like to preview the gif, to see whether it would be best to cut frames off of the beginning or the end, or both. When you’ve decided, you can select the frames at the bottom, and in the right-hand side panel, and delete them both using the little bins/trash icons.
I keep checking and deleting frames until I get the gif under 10 MB! Just don’t delete frames from the middle, as then you’ll have the same issue as if you selected “every other frame” when making the gif: it won’t flow!
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Lastly, these are my save settings:
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So that’s it! That’s how I make all my gifs. Blending I do when the gifs are in the grouped, smart filter stage, whereas text I add on during the framing section above! Really hope this is helpful, please feel free to ask any questions you may have! 💖
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nsfwflint · 3 years
Text
Office Politics: Team Dinner
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After two months, I return! Finally finished a new piece and chapter 3 of Office Politics. Sorry that it took so long guys. But hey, I’m sort of on schedule with there being three months between each chapter LOL. Anyway I hope you enjoy and thank you all for being patient and waiting for me. <3
Read on AFF
“Hi there. Welcome to the acting department. I’m Han Bo Reum and I’ll be in charge of your training. I look forward to getting to know you.”
 As soon as the words leave them, Bo Reum’s plump lips turn into a welcoming smile. You haven’t even stepped off the elevator and the team leader is greeting you personally. Entranced by everything about her, you can’t stop your eyes from wandering up and down her body. The way her outfit flaunts her curves amazes you. Your eyes slowly devour every inch of her body, stopping to marvel at her sizable chest. Continuing the journey, the next thing you end up staring at is her full lips. Finally, you end up meeting her warm friendly eyes and blush slightly. If Bo Reum feels anything about you admiring her body, she doesn’t show it. She turns around and starts walking towards the bullpen.
 “This way. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.” Bo Reum says as you trail behind her.
 Following her into the office space, you’re pleasantly surprised at the difference in atmosphere. While the idol division had separated cubicles, the acting division has all the desks pushed together without any walls between them. As soon as you see the other team member, you have no idea how you’re going to be able to stop looking at them long enough to get any work done. They see you approaching with Bo Reum and stand to greet you.
 “This is the new rookie who is being transferred here temporarily for training,” Bo Reum gestures to you vaguely. “Make sure to get along. I’ve got to join a call with some higher-ups, so I’ll let you introduce yourselves.”
 As if something is just now dawning on her, she looks around the office.
“Chae Soo Bin, why are you the only one here right now?” Bo Reum frowns.
“Sun Young and Sung Hee are out of the office today. You said you wanted them to do some sort of client meeting, remember?” Soo Bin replies.
“Oh. Right. I forgot that was today. Well I guess it’s up to you to start training the rookie.” 
Bo Reum quickly walks back towards her office, and you watch her pick up her phone as she sits down. Turning back to your new coworker, you attempt to stifle a quiet sigh; desperately trying not to show how overwhelmed you are by her beauty. You shift uncomfortably as Chae Soo Bin looks you up and down, silently evaluating your worth. Suddenly, she gives you a beaming smile so warm it could melt the ice caps. Your face grows hot as you attempt to smile back, although you’re not sure if your face is able to move properly. 
“You’ll fit right in here! Glad to meet you!” Soo Bin says cheerily. 
“You as well,” You bow politely. “So who else is normally here?”
“Well we normally have Ko Sung Hee here at this desk.” 
Soo Bin points towards a desk covered with various notepads and sticky notes, seemingly having a note for everything she does. Looking to the desk next to it, you chuckle at the puppy shaped trash can sitting underneath a much more organized table. A notepad, calendar, and pencil cup surround an open space where you assume a laptop would normally be.
“Who sits there?” 
“Ah, that’s Sun Young’s desk. She went by Abel Ryu for a while, but she’s gone back to her birth name since retiring. So now she’s Ryu Sun Young again.”’
“Abel Ryu works here?” You blurt out, noticing the excitement in your voice just a little too late.
“Oh ho. Guess I’ll need to tell her that she has a fan.” Soo Bin teases.
You feel your face growing hot again as she giggles at you.
“This one is yours, so make yourself at home. Let’s get right into things.” She says as she points towards the one empty table.
Giggling as she sits at her desk, you notice that Soo Bin’s desk looks exactly as cheery as you expected it to. Bright pink and yellow papers and folders cover her desk. A small yellow flower sits on the corner. She begins to walk you through some of the basic duties of the department. It’s not too long before she leaves you to your own devices and gets into her own work. Every once in a while you see her look at the flower and smile. As you wonder if it’s from a lover, you quickly look down at your laptop when you see Soo Bin noticing you staring.
 Most of the day flies by as you quickly find yourself swamped in work. Finally, you’re able to take a quick rest for your lunch break. As you scoot your seat out and get ready to leave, Bo Reum emerges from her office for the first time since she left you to meet Soo Bin..
 “All right guys, don’t forget. In order to properly welcome the rookie, we’ll be having a team dinner at my place tonight. Make sure you all show up. I just texted you the address, rookie.” Bo Reum says before heading back into her office.
 Confused by what just happened, you check your phone. Sure enough, there’s a text message with an address sitting in your inbox.
 “Is it just me, or is it weird that Team Leader Han wants to have a team dinner at her apartment?” You ask, warily looking up from the text message.
 “Not particularly. We all go over to her apartment all the time. Despite being our boss, we’re pretty close friends. Bo Reum loves to host, so she invites us over all the time.” Soo Bin responds absentmindedly as she continues typing up her report.
 “I see. Well, I’m going to get lunch. Be back in a bit.” You say, trying to distract yourself from the weirdness of it all.
 “Pick me up some Subway on your way back.” Soo Bin calls out as you round the corner to the elevator.
 Hours later, you find yourself ringing the doorbell to your new Team Leader’s apartment. Millions of thoughts are racing through your mind. You weren’t sure of the dress code, so you’re dressed in your usual jeans and t-shirt, with a fleece zip-up that remains unzipped. A nervous knot builds in your stomach as you think of all the ways this could go horribly wrong. Thankfully before you manage to get too far down that particular rabbit hole, the apartment door swings open. Han Bo Reum stands there and greets you with a bright smile. You glance down at her oversized tan sweater to see the words “Feel The Wind Ride Me” and wonder if she stole that from her drama set or ordered one herself. Between her sweater being so big and her shorts being too small, it looks like she isn’t wearing any pants. With an anxious gulp, you struggle to force yourself to not stare at her shapely legs.
 “Welcome! Hope it wasn’t too hard to find. Come on in!” Bo Reum pulls you inside.
 “Nah, it wasn’t bad at all. I don’t live too far away actually,” You reply, looking around inside as you kick off your shoes. “Where is everyone else?”
 “Oh really? That’s good to know. And nobody else is here yet. You’re a little early so we’ve got some time to kill.”
 “Oh, I’m sorry. I tend to be early a lot since I’m nervous about being late.”
 “That’s fine. It’s a good habit honestly.”
 “What should we do until then?” You ask.
 “I have an idea. I hope you’re ready to sweat.” Bo Reum smiles.
 After a few hours, beads of sweat drip down your forehead as your breathing grows ragged. You find yourself quickly reaching your limit. A passionate fire burns inside you, knowing that the end is here and yours for the taking. With an intense look in your eyes, you prepare to finish; trying to exert even more of your strength.
 “And this, is to go, even further beyond!” You yell before releasing a loud grunt.
 “You lose again,” Bo Reum laughs as she dangles a controller off her wrist. “How are you so bad at Wii tennis? And what’s up with the yelling?”
 “Cut me some slack, I never played on a Wii. And I don’t know, it just makes it more fun.” You sigh as you slip your hand out of the wrist strap.
 Bo Reum giggles some more as you both collapse on the couch. Turning towards her, you end up staring deeply into her eyes. After a few seconds, you realize how dangerous it is and look away.
 “So, when is everyone else going to get here? It’s starting to get kind of late.” You say as you nervously clear your throat.
 “Oh, they’re not.”
 “What do you mean?”
 “I told them all I was sick, so nobody is coming.”  She says, slowly scooting closer to you.
 “Wh-why would you do that?” You swallow anxiously.
 “Because, I wanted some time alone with you. We’re not all like Seungyeon and want to constantly fuck in the office.”
 Blinking in confusion, you begin to wonder how many people knew about the work hour escapades. You guess you weren’t being as discreet as you thought. Before you open your mouth, Bo Reum slowly takes off her sweater; revealing her giant breasts snuggled tightly into a black bra.
 “Besides, I know you want some alone time too. You’ve been staring at these all day.” Bo Reum says, her honey-like voice suddenly dripping with seduction.
 “Can you blame me? They’re really, really nice.” You gulp as you feel your pants slowly start to get tighter.
 “And they can be all yours if you want them,” Bo Reum gently places her hand on your thigh, slowly inching it closer and closer to your dick. “Do you want them? Do you want me?”
 “I really do.” You nod, your cock now fully erect and throbbing in your jeans.
 “Good. I’m happy to hear that.”
 Bo Reum leans in and pushes her lips against yours. Plump and sweet, it doesn’t take any time before you’re sucking and nibbling on her lips, sneaking your tongue in every once in a while. Muffled moans escape both your mouths as you fall deeper and deeper into the kiss. Turning fully towards her, she quickly presses against your chest. You wrap your arms around her slender body. The sensation of her sizable breasts pushing against you builds your lust for her body even more. Both of your tongues swirl around rapidly and aggressively. More moans begin to fill the room as your tongues continue to massage each other. You don’t know how much time has passed as you continue to savor the taste of her delicious lips. Your cock throbs crazily in your pants as you finally pull away from the intense kiss.
 “I want you to fuck me with your tits.” You pant heavily.
 Giving you one last quick kiss, Bo Reum slowly slips down onto the floor. Kneeling between your knees, she gives you an alluring smile and reaches behind her back with one hand. She teasingly unclasps her bra, the black straps slowly sliding down her slender arms. Apparently deciding to tease you, she stops taking her bra off and instead pulls down your pants. Determined to torture you, she takes her sweet time pulling down your boxers as well. After a few eternal seconds, she rips down your boxers and your erect cock springs out.
Biting her lip, Bo Reum relishes your facial expressions as she teases you. Finally, the large cupped bra releases from her skin and her heavenly breasts now fully bare for you to see. With a playful smile she tosses the bra across the room. You lick your lips at the sight of her giant tits as she slowly wraps them around your cock. Her stiff nipples beg for you to tease them, but what catches your eye is a small beauty mark near her right nipple.
“I didn’t know you had a beauty mark.” You say, moaning softly as she squeezes her breasts tighter around your shaft.
 “The things we could do with what you don’t know about me. But don’t worry, that won’t be for too much longer. By the end of the night, we’ll have learned so much about each other.” Bo Reum says with a seductive wink.
 “God, I want to learn everything about you right now.” You groan.
With another smile, Bo Reum starts stroking her breasts up and down your shaft. The soft pressure of being between her tits quickly fills you with pleasure. You drink in the sight before you, a fantasy you’ve played in your head so many times finally come to fruition. The sensation of your dick buried in her heavenly flesh, your tip peeking out of her deep cleavage. Her silken skin clings to your cock as she sandwiches your cock even tighter between her chest. As much as you want to keep your eyes burned onto this scene, the pleasure proves to be too much and you lean your head backwards in ecstasy. A plethora of moans escape your lips as she picks up the pace, furiously jerking you off with her immaculate breasts. 
“Fuck. Fuck, you’re so good baby.” You grunt.
“You haven’t seen anything yet hun.” Bo Reum smirks before leaning down.
Without even half a second to wonder what she’s doing, Bo Reum takes your tip into her mouth. Whatever pleasure you felt before is nothing compared to the incredible feeling you’re experiencing as she rapidly swirls her tongue around your tip. You can’t even begin to describe the noises of lust you’re making anymore. Her soft tongue rubs and massages your dick, masterfully flowing against the curves and crevices of your tip. Warm saliva slickens your cock as she continues to stroke you with her breasts.
“God, this is fucking amazing. You’re so fucking incredible.” You groan.
You feel Bo Reum’s lips smile against your shaft. Her big eyes look up at you as she slurps on your tip. Suddenly, she starts to suck your dick with an intensity you’ve never experienced. Her head rapidly bobs up and down on your cock, the warmth of her mouth constricting you. The weight of her breasts against your dick increases as she squeezes them even closer together. As she continues to suck on your dick, her soft tongue circles around your tip. Moans make their way out of you, the pleasure so intense you struggle to keep your eyes open.
Her breasts continue to rapidly rub up and down your shaft, the friction of her soft skin tugging on your dick. Bo Reum continues to alternate between pooling her saliva around your cock and sucking it dry every few minutes. The tightness of her cheeks eagerly constricts your tip as they vibrate every time she sucks. Her soft lips freely glide up and down your cock. It doesn’t take long before the extraordinary pleasure betrays you. Your cock throbs violently and you both know you’re almost there.
“Fuck. I’m going to cum, Bo Reum.”
Bo Reum looks up at you again with an expression that seems to say “let it all out.” The soft valley of her breasts pressures your shaft while her tongue swirls and slurps your tip. Suddenly you reach down, pushing her head onto your cock. Without any conscious control over your own body, you start thrusting upwards. Your tip slams into the back of her throat as the wet chasm of her mouth drowns you in ecstasy. The heavenly weight of her tits against your dick is even more exhilarating, her skin briskly rubbing against you. Her tender lips sliding up and down your cock, quickly driving you to the edge.
After a few more thrusts, your dick throbs inside her mouth again. Your tip swelling with cum, you manage to muster one final slam before reaching your limit. You time your last thrust carefully; pushing as deep into her mouth as you can as a thick blast of semen erupts from your cock. Bo Reum swallows as your cum continues to pour into the back of her throat. The friction of her cheeks swallowing against your tip only heightens your pleasure. As one last rope of semen shoots into her mouth, you finally remove your hands from head.  Lifting her head off your cock, she gives you a lustful smile as she swallows the last bit of your load. 
“Sorry about being sort of rough. It felt so good that I just couldn’t control myself.” You pant.
“It’s fine, I like it a little rough. Hope that isn’t all you got though.” Bo Reum winks.
As she stands back up and straddles your lap, her pussy rubs against your dick and you realize for the first time tonight that she actually isn’t wearing any shorts.
“Have you not had pants on all night?” You ask, surprised.
“I guess I should call you a gentleman for not looking enough to notice.”
“Well you won’t be calling me a gentleman for long with what I want to do to you.”
“I would hope so. You’re not here for romance after all, you’re here to fuck my brains out and fill me with cum.”
Bo Reum’s brutal honesty arouses you, your cock fully erect again and throbbing against the lips of her pussy. The sensation of your dick twitching against her lips apparently excites her as much as it excites you, as her fluids leak onto your shaft. She slowly grinds against your cock. After a few seconds, Bo Reum licks her lips and sits up, hovering over your erect dick. Without any warning, she mounts you; immediately slamming herself onto your cock. A mixture of loud moans fills the apartment as your tip pushes into her depths. You quickly find yourself wondering what’s with the women at this office, why does nobody ever want to let you take time to adjust to them?
“Holy shit you’re so tight, Bo Reum.” You groan.
“We’re just getting started, big boy.” Bo Reum says with a flirty wink.
Not wasting any time, she starts grinding on your dick. You can’t stop the countless moans from leaving your mouth and Bo Reum sees it as an opening; immediately leaning over and darting her tongue into your mouth. Her tongue gleefully rubs and massages yours as the warmth of her cunt pressures your shaft. Enjoying the sweet taste of her lips against yours again, you start to lose yourself in the experience that is Han Bo Reum. Your hands travel down and squeeze her soft ass roughly. Her flesh ripples against your fingertips as she continues to grind on you. After a few minutes, she places her hands on your chest and pushes; separating from the kiss as a strand of saliva breaks between you. Straightening her back, she starts rapidly bouncing on your cock.
Your brain freezes temporarily, struggling to decide if you want to watch her breasts bounce wildly as you already are or worship them with your hands. Thankfully you don’t have to waste time thinking; because in the split second of hesitation, Bo Reum grabs your hands and pushes them onto her chest. No longer wasting any time, you aggressively knead her breasts in your hands. Worship ends up being the correct word you’d use after all. You quickly find yourself addicted to the sensation of her bountiful breasts in your palms. The soft elasticity of her tits practically melts in your hands, her silken flesh pouring through your fingers with every rough squeeze. As you continue caressing her chest, she grabs your shoulders tightly.
“Yes, squeeze them just like that baby. Love my breasts just like you’ve always wanted.” Bo Reum screams, lustfully squeezing your dick.
It doesn’t take long for you to realize how perfect of a sexual partner Bo Reum is for you. The more you fondle and massage her breasts, the tighter she gets. The heat of her soft walls intensifies as you begin to pinch her nipples as well. Soon, her quiet groans become full screams of pleasure. She bounces aggressively on your dick, her creamy thighs slapping against your own. Her soft ass ripples against you as you start to meet her halfway; thrusting upwards. Into her. You quickly grow drunk on the sensation of her pillowy breasts heaving and jiggling in your palms. Bo Reum slowly slides her hands behind your neck and stares into your eyes.
“Go on, taste them. I know you want to.” She moans
You lean in and quickly attach your lips to her left breast. As you lick and slurp on her nipple, Bo Reum clenches her cunt again. She squeezes your collarbone, digging her nails into you so hard that she draws blood. Powering through the pain, the only thing you focus on is the delicious taste of her tits as you suck on her stiff nipples. The sweet flavor of her nipples flows into your mouth as your tongue thoroughly soaks her breasts with your saliva. Furiously riding you, her velvety pussy clings greedily to your cock. Your tip slams against her depths as she continues to bounce on your dick. Her creamy legs rippling against yours, you take her nipple between your teeth and start lightly nibbling on them. 
“Fuck baby. Just like that.” Bo Reum screams.
Your teeth nibble slightly harder onto her nipple as your tongue rubs against the small part it can. Bo Reum’s moans grow increasingly louder. Her hands move up to the back of your head, grabbing your hair as she pushes you into her breast. You quickly move your other hand down to her nipple, pinching it with your fingers as you continue to squeeze her tits. Pulling on her nipples with both your fingers and your teeth,you feel her silky cavern constrict again. Although she’s still riding you with an intense speed, you can feel her pace slowly start to drop. With how sensitive her breasts are, you realize that she must be nearing her own orgasm. 
Suddenly feeling aggressive, you go into overdrive with your attack on her breasts. Your fingertips sink into her soft flesh, the sizable weight of her tits heaving in your hands. As you continue to fondle her breasts, your tongue rapidly swirls against her stiff nipple. Pinching the other nipple with your free hand, you harshly suck on her tits; pushing and pulling them as her hot walls consume your cock. With one final slam, Bo Reum’s intense riding comes to a halting stop. 
Her body twitches, shuddering violently as you feel an unfamiliar sensation. As Bo Reum’s body continues to tremble, an immense amount of fluids gushes out of her pussy. Sticky juices flood past your cock, drenching your shaft before pouring onto your thighs. Releasing her breasts from your mouth with an audible pop, you look down in shock; completely astonished that Bo Reum just squirted all over you. Your thighs are now soaked with her sticky fluids. Bo Reum gives you a shaky smile as you meet her eyes. 
“I didn’t realize you were a squirter.” You admit.
“What, like I should have a neon sign that says “I squirt from breast play” flashing on my forehead?” Bo Reum laughs. 
“That’s a fair point.” You blush from your stupid statement.
Wrapping her arms around your neck, she leans in and presses her lips against yours. Your dick throbs in her pussy and you quickly find a new determination in you. 
“Well since you just had your orgasm, now it’s my turn.”
Bo Reum squeals in surprise as you stand up with your cock still inside her. You grip the underside of her thighs, your palms pushing against her milky thighs. Having never done this before, you briefly wonder if you should do a different position than you had in mind. But as if reading your mind, Bo Reum quickly locks her legs around your waist and starts grinding on your cock again. Her velvety cunt grips your shaft as she squirms against you. You start thrusting upwards while she clenches her pussy around your dick. 
After a few thrusts, it’s clear that you’re not able to get as deep as you’d like. Settling into a shallow squat and thrusting up, Bo Reum’s moans quickly tell you that this is a better position. Driving into her from below, you sink your hands into the silky skin of her delicious thighs. Bo Reum stares into your eyes as you both indulge in your every lust for each other. She presses her body against yours, getting close enough to slip her tongue into your mouth again. 
“Don’t stop. I’m begging you, please don’t stop.” She whimpers, her voice muffled from the kiss.
Your tongues sloppily swirl around each other, entwining with your need for each other. Her giant breasts heave and ripple against your chest as you continue to ram into her cunt from below. With every thrust, your cock craves the velvety heat of her pussy more and more. Moans vibrate your tongue as you continue to rub and massage Bo Reum’s tongue with your own. As you aggressively thrust into her, you feel your knees start to strain from this position. You pull away from the kiss, immediately missing the warmth of her tongue inside your mouth and the softness of her lips. Desperately craving the lustful high you’re both acquiring from each other, you quickly change positions.
You lay Bo Reum down so she’s resting on the back of her shoulders while the rest of her body sticks straight in the air with your dick still inside her. Not letting either of you rest, you thrust mercilessly into her cunt; almost piledriving your cock into her. Staring into her eyes, you feel a different kind of satisfaction than earlier. While you loved sucking and playing with Bo Reum’s tits, it was very clear that she was the one in control. But now as you slam into her from above, you’re the one in control of things. 
“Oh my god. Fuck me just like this. Don’t stop fucking me like this.” Bo Reum moans at the top of her lungs, her voice bouncing off the walls of her apartment.
Moans escape from both of you, mingling in the air to form an erotic harmony as they join the sounds of your dick slamming against Bo Reum’s pussy. Her tight walls hungrily tug on your cock. The velvety heat clings to your shaft, her depths eagerly accommodating your throbbing dick. Your tip slams into her depths, her pussy completely at your mercy as you piston inside her. With every thrust, her giant tits ripple and bounce wildly. 
“Bo Reum. Bo Reum.” 
Not able to focus on anything besides the mounting ecstasy from her hot cunt, the only thing you manage to moan is her name over and over. Bo Reum’s lustful screams fill your ears and you briefly wonder if her neighbors can hear anything. Any idle thoughts you have are quickly pushed away as her velvety walls clamp around your dick again. You burn this image to your brain so you’ll never forget it. One of your biggest fantasies is unfolding right in front of you as you stare at her breasts bouncing and heaving in an almost hypnotic rhythm. The sensation of her entire body rippling against yours becomes too overwhelming to bear.
As you begin to approach the end, something about this position is speaking to you on a primal level and you realize why. In this position, you’ll be able to release everything inside of Bo Reum as deep as you can. The realization triggers something in you, a hunger you didn’t know you had. Her ass ripples against your thighs as you aggressively thrust into her. Even more of her heavenly moans flow into your ears. The sight of her amazing figure jiggling and bouncing as you pound away at her cunt is the nail in the coffin.
“I’m going to cum inside you.” You grunt.
There is no asking for permission, or seeing if she was okay with it. It’s a declaration. And the look in her eyes screams that she wants it just as bad as you do. 
“Yes.” She moans.
One word is the only response Bo Reum can muster. You ram your dick into her as deep as you can, your thrusts becoming wild and almost violent. Pounding away at her depths, her soft cunt clamps around your shaft; the heat of her walls enveloping your dick. Her receptive womb eagerly awaits the load about to emerge from your tip. With one final slam, a primal grunt leaves your throat as your tip twitches into the deepest parts of her cunt. Your cock erupts and a torrent of cum floods Bo Reum’s pussy. Her body trembles against yours as your semen surges into her. One last spurt shoots out of you as both of your orgasms reach a silent finality. After one of the most intense orgasms of your life, you stay inside her; your cock remaining in her soft embrace as your cum pours down into her depths.
Pulling your dick out of her, you collapse; sitting onto the floor in front of her. Sitting up, Bo Reum looks into your eyes. Her chest rises and falls heavily as she attempts to regain her breathing.
“Are you still okay?” You ask.
Despite the two of you being completely out of breath and panting, Bo Reum nods.
“Good. Because we’re not done yet.”
Bo Reum gives you a smile as the two of you slowly stand up. With no other words said, you both quickly race to her bedroom.
Several hours and multiple orgasms later, the two of you are stretched across opposite sides of Bo Reum’s bed. Her thin white sheets are strewn about and now stained with sweat and cum. You’ve never been more exhausted in your life as you struggle to catch your breath. Bo Reum moves over and lays next to you. She gives you a satisfied smile as she stares into your eyes.
“So. How long have you wanted to fill me like that for?” She asks.
You hesitate for a second before answering.
“Honestly?” 
“Honestly.” Bo Reum nods.
“A long time.”
“And was it as good as you thought it would be?”
“Even better.” You chuckle.
“Good. I’m glad you liked it.”
With another smile, Bo Reum leans in and gives you a gentle kiss. Her soft lips against yours are the last thing you remember before you pass out from exhaustion.
Bright sunlight streams through a nearby window as you groggily open your eyes. As you try to get up, a heavy weight pulls on your arm. You look down to see Bo Reum cuddled up next to you, tightly hugging your arm. The two of you still naked from the night before, a smile creeps across your face knowing that it wasn’t just a dream. Glancing over to the clock, you notice the time and panic quietly. While you’re not technically late for work, you wanted to be there early to get work done and give a good impression to the rest of the team members. You gently remove your arm from Bo Reum’s grasp and quickly get dressed. Trying not to wake her, you leave quickly; shutting the apartment door behind you as softly as you can.
After running home for a quick shower and change of clothes, you step into the elevator. Smiling to yourself about the events of last night, you’re thankful nobody else is in the elevator to wonder how weird you are. With a soft ding, the elevator door slides open and you step through the office with a fresh determination to get work done. Despite being earlier than you’re supposed to be, you realize that more people are already in the office than you thought there would be. As you round the corner, you’re surprised to notice that only one person is in the office besides you. Approaching the collection of desks, you quickly realize that it’s one of the team members that was out of the office yesterday. You bow politely as you set your backpack down at your new desk.
“You must be the new guy. I’m Ryu Sun Young.” She says, looking up from her keyboard.
“Ah, You’re Abel Ryu. I mean Ryu Sun Young now, sorry. I’m the rookie, here for temporary training.”
“Good to meet you, rookie. Don’t worry about it, I know it takes some time to get used to it.” She smiles.
“Um, excuse me? Is Team Leader Han in yet?” A voice asks behind you.
Turning to see who it is, you’re greeted by the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes on. Staring at her incredible figure and gorgeous face, you forget how to breathe for a few seconds. 
“Uhhhh.” Is the only sound you’re able to get out of your mouth.
Sun Young tries to hide her laughter and you feel your face go red.
“Sorry, this is the rookie. Team Leader Han isn’t here yet, what do you need?” Sun Young asks.
“Oh, that’s fine. Corporate wants to bring in another transfer. Some sort of liaison between the acting and idol divisions? I’ll just come back and drop off the paper work later.” She says, tilting to her head slightly as if she’s thinking.
Looking at you again, the busty brunette bows and gives you a friendly smile before walking away.
“That was Park Min Young.” You say, turning to Sun Young with your mouth open in surprise.
“Yeah. Sorry to burst your bubble though, it’s not going to happen. She’s been happily married to her husband for like forever now, I don’t remember how many years. Always talking about their ‘infinite love stories.’ Whatever that means. She retired as an actress, but she always talks like she’s playing a role. I don’t quite understand her.” Sun Young shakes her head as she looks back down at her work.
Before you have time to think about that revelation, you hear someone clear their throat behind you.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I’m the new liaison between acting and idol divisions, Im Jin Ah reporting. ” A familiar voice says behind you.
You turn around and forget how to breathe again. Long gorgeous brown hair tumbles down her shoulders and her white button up. Greeting you with a small bow, a beautiful and warm smile graces her lips. Her employee ID lanyard sits atop her chest; her breasts not as large as some of your other coworkers but definitely sizable. A professional black skirt hugs her hips and hides her thighs; but it doesn’t matter.  You’ve seen them countless times in music videos. Standing before you is one of your earliest K-pop biases, After School’s Nana.
183 notes · View notes
writer-k-pop · 3 years
Text
Study Dates - Vocal
Description: It’s finals week and you drag them to the library for a study date. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Fluff
Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists
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Jeonghan
You’re just finishing up the first assignment of the day, all-be-it a small one, when Jeonghan shows up (late). Sweatpants and an oversized shirt hangs from his body and drips with his desire to be back in his bed.
“You are going to pay for this.” Jeonghan mumbles and drops his backpack onto the table, causing a few people nearby to look over at the loud noise. 
You give him the sweetest smile and slowly shut your textbook, “But you’re grades are going to call me a god when the week’s over.” You prepare to dive into it because not even his good looks can distract you from your grades goal.
Scoffing and rolling his eyes, Jeonghan unceremoniously drops himself in the chair opposite you. “I highly doubt that.” He says and grudgingly drags his backpack into the empty chair next to him.
You pull out a notebook and opened your laptop to find the practice test your professor graciously gave out. “Take this practice test with me. Come on, you’ll be grateful for it later.”
Jeonghan crosses his arms over his chest and pouts while just starting at me. After a few seconds, he tosses his arms into the air, sits up properly, and then opens his backpack to pull out his school supplies. “Don’t expect me to be super focused like you are.”
You smile in satisfaction that A) you got him out of his bed and B) you got him studying. But he isn’t going to make it easy. He never does. And today is no different.
Halfway through the practice test, he’s drawing doodles in the margins of his notebook and then asks for your opinion on the doodles. 20 minutes later, when you’ve moved onto a different subject, he’s scrolling through his phone. And 15 minutes after that, he’s using his eraser as a hockey puck and his pens as hockey sticks to play a game of hockey that occasionally has the eraser interrupting your studying. Jeonghan giggles when you flick the eraser back at him.
“Come on, let’s just go back to my room.” Jeonghan bargains, resting his chin on the table and looking at you with pouty eyes, “I can lay in bed and you can study at my desk. It’s a win-win!” 
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Joshua
“Do we need anything else?” Joshua looks around the table. You’ve set up your laptops, notebooks, pencil cases, and drinks according to your personal studying style, reading for the study session that’s about to commence. 
You shake your head, “Might need sustenance later, but we can deal with that when we get there.”
Joshua nods in agreement before he dives deep into his textbook and you do the same. 
A handful of minutes later, you find yourself mindlessly twirling your pen in your hands and staring at Joshua as he scratches his head and tries to read his professors awful handwriting. He feels your eyes on him and glances at you, catching you red handed.
“Already giving up?” Joshua questions and peers down at your notes.
“Distracted.” You correct with a smirk before lowering your gaze again.
When you both reach the subject you’re in class together for, you decide to quiz each other to find out what you each need to work on. 
“Okay, this one’s tricky.” You peer at the flashcard in your hands before flicking your eyes up at him.
Joshua breathes out in preparation for the “difficult” question and you wait a couple more seconds to show him the flashcard to add to the suspense. 
“Oh, would you just show me the card already.” Joshua whines with a laugh mixed in.
You laugh along and give up on keeping him in suspense. Showing him the card he reads the card, squints and reads the card, then tilts his head to the side and just stares at the flashcard. 
“Do you know it?” You question him.
Joshua puckers his lips and shakes his head, “I have no idea what it is.” 
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Woozi/Jihoon
“I’m stealing your highlighter again.” Woozi says, more mumbles, as he reaches across the table for your green highlighter. 
“Uh huh.” You answer without words as you scroll down to another TikTok video. You are taking a break from studying with a well earned 5-minute-turned-into-20-minutes break. 
Woozi rolls the highlighter back over to your side and you decide you should at least try to get some work done on a group project before you completely give up the efforts to study. 
“What’s another word for ‘change’?” You ask Woozi as you proofread another group member’s section of the project.
“Why?” Woozi looks up at you in confusion.
“Because this person used ‘change’ like 600 times and it feels very very redundant.” You explain, “Like I feel like we could make this a drinking game. Something like take a chug every time the word ‘change’ appears.”
“We’d get drunk.” Woozi states the obvious and raises an eyebrow at you.
You point a finger at him with a knowing smile, “Exactly.”
“Oh gosh.” Woozi squeezes his eyes shut and giggles. “You’re already thinking about drinking? Finals week hasn’t even started yet.”
“It feels like it started months ago.” You joke with an eye roll, “I’ve been prepared for the post semester drunkness for AGES.”
Woozi shakes his head and turns the page in his notebook, “Adjust, modify, switch, revise. Uh...” He trails off in thought.
“What?” You ask, wondering why he’s saying random words.
“Synonyms for change.” Woozi reiterates your earlier request. “Oh, differ. And that’s all I got.” 
“Oh, right. Thank you.” You quickly jot down the words in the margin of your notebook. “You still sure we can’t make this a drinking game?”
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Dokyeom/Seokmin
The math problem staring up at you without giving you any hints at what the answer could be or how to solve for the answer. It’s like it’s mocking you with its numbers and letters gathered in that one particular spot on the screen. 
“Curse you math.” You grumble and open to a fresh page to restart your attempt at solving the problem. 
“What problem are you on?” Dokyeom asks and leans over the table to peer at your laptop.
“This one.” You turn the screen so he can get a better look. 
“Ooooh, yeahhhhh.” Dokyeom drags out the words as if he’s thinking about how he solved them. Then he pops his lips, “Yeah, I haven’t gotten to that one yet.”
You muffle a chuckle and turn the screen back to face you, “Thanks, Kyeomie.” 
“Did you try starting with the theorem we learned last week?” He offers a suggestion while you busy yourself with the nth attempt of solving it.
“Yeah, I did, but it just led me in a circle over and over again.” You tell him, “Didn’t work.”
“Hmm.” Dokyeom leans his chin in his hand in thought but you pay no attention to him. That is until he clears his throat to force your attention to him.
You flicker your eyes upwards for a second before double taking and a laugh bubbles in your throat. “What-?”
“I’ve got my thinking glasses on.” Dokyeom states seriously with three pairs of glasses sitting on his face. 
“Where’d you get all those anyway?” You ask, laughing at his simple antics.
“One of them is mine, one is Minghao’s that he left in my bag, and the last pair are yours.” He explains and your hands fly to your face. No wonder your eyes were starting to feel tired. You’d been staring at your screen without your blue light glasses on. And now they are on Dokyeom’s face, assisting him in thinking.
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Seungkwan
“Pencils?” “Check. Laptop AND chargers?” “Check. Notebooks?” “Check.”
“Fuzzy noise canceling headphones?” Seungkwan lists off the next item and pulls just that out of his bag.
“Fuzzy noi- what?” You look up from your backpack and see the headphones in Seungkwan’s hands. “Why do you need those?”
“It’s finals week, and I need to focus.” He waves the headphones at you, “And since SOMEONE made me come to the library, I need these so I don’t get distracted from the noise.”
You widen your eyes and go back to organizing your study supplies, “Oh-kay.” You definitely didn’t find this weird... at all....
“Judge all you want.” Seungkwan says, a-matter-a-factly, “These babies work wonders.”
You give him a half hearted nod and start your studying. He follows suit and places his earbuds on before settling the fuzzy headphones over his ears. Throughout your study session, friends of yours come up to you two and have small chats. And each time, Seungkwan is forced to take off his fuzzy headphones to be apart of the conversations with his friends.
By the 20th time, Seungkwan is annoyed and you can read the annoyance on his face like it’s a kindergartener’s book. Your friend bids you goodbye before leaving the table side and then Seungkwan lets out a sighed groan.
“How are those headphones working out for you?” You ask, trying to stifle a laugh.
“They’re working fantastic when I have them on. I just wished people would stop coming up to me.” Seungkwan whines, “I mean what part of fuzzy pink noise cancelling headphones says ‘please come talk to me while my head in buried in my notes’?” 
You smirk and joke, “I’m guessing it’s the little eyelids and eyelashes stitched onto them.” You nod towards the sides and his lips twitch in distaste at your joke.
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42 notes · View notes
forevfangirlwrites · 3 years
Note
Hiiiii
So… I just gonna said I love the actress Au it just amazing and I don’t say this that easy but it true so… I had a really bad week, like panic attack really bad panic attack and after that I was also very sad and didn’t want to do noting but at some point I thought “ I can go and read that fan fiction it always make me happy “ so I did that and it boost my mood so I know this may sound dumb but it is true so thank you.
I have also a prompt but feel free to ignore if you don’t liked, so is based of some video I seen about boys who do very cheesy stuff for their girl like, if they don’t feel good like go and buy their favorite snacks or something like that, I would like see Percy go out and buy all Annabeth favorite things and prepared a nice movie night after she texted him or called and he sensed she sad or something, I don’t know but I thinks he would do that
(Also anyone how read this take cere of you mental health )
Bye 🤍
( if is there some errors I’m very sorry still struggling writing in English it not my first language and I learned just by myself)
The text message simply reads: very clever.
He frowns at his phone. Not the usual kind of response he gets to the little jokes he likes to text her throughout the day. Sure, this one had been pretty clever: What do you get when you cross a joke with a rhetorical question? But her response is still…off.
Worried he’s done something wrong, he meekly opens the door when he gets home later that day.
“Annabeth?” he calls out softly when he’s met with a seemingly empty apartment. Shutting the front door behind him, he peers into the kitchen and bathroom of the small place before stopping in front of the bedroom door.
He slowly turns the handle, revealing a mostly darkened room.
“Annabeth?” he repeats, more quietly this time. Moving towards the bed, he sees her asleep, clutching his pillow tightly. She looks peaceful but the way she’s gripping the pillow tugs at his heart.
It’s clear today had been a Not Good one.
Letting her rest, he backs out of the room, picks up his keys, and walks out the front door once again.
She has a particular affinity towards those chocolates with fudge in the center so it’s his first stop once he gets to the drugstore.
He can’t solve her problems, but maybe some of her favorite chocolate will help.
At least he hopes so, making his way down the snack aisle. Barbeque chips and root beer wouldn’t hurt either, probably.
He doesn’t really know what he’s doing here, if he’s being honest. A need to do something, anything, had stirred in him when he’d seen her lying like that.
So of course, his brain went to food.
Before he can overthink any further, he decides to head to the checkout. Only to get distracted by some face masks hanging at the end cap.
It’s been a while since Annabeth has last done one, but he thinks that these might be similar to what she usually gets.
The packaging says ‘refreshing,’ though, and he figures that it couldn’t hurt, so he throws a few into his basket.
But staring at the odd assortment of items, he hesitates resuming his course to the checkout. He was just gonna get snacks but with the addition of the facemasks, he feels like he needs…something else.
He wanders the aisles aimlessly, at a complete loss of what else to get until he notices a woman pick up a candle.
Maybe that’s what he needs.
(It takes him five minutes to pick one out because there are entirely too many scents to choose from).
More confident in his purchases, he finally makes it to the register. It’s still a weird assortment of junk food and spa things but he thinks she’ll like it.
He hopes so, anyway.
When he returns home, a flicker of light from the open bedroom door draws him in.
She’s sitting in the relative dark, laptop pulled up in front of her, highlighting the shadows under her eyes.
“Annabeth?”
She looks up at the sound of his voice, face visibly tired in a way that hurts his heart even more.
“What took you so long?” It’s not accusatory but there is a sense of…something…maybe longing? behind her words.
“Sorry.” He holds up the bag. “I stopped to get a few things for you.”
She frowns, pushing away her laptop and turning towards him. “What things?”
He hands her the plastic bag, and watches as she rummages through it.
Silently, she takes out every object and lays it out on the bed. His worry grows at her lack of reaction.
When she finally looks up, her face is unreadable.
“Do you…do you like it?” he asks, nervous that maybe he’s made things worse.
She crawls off the bed and stands in front of him.
“Percy…” she starts. He waits expectantly for her to continue but she doesn’t say anything else. A second later though, she’s launching herself at him and he wraps his arms around her as she presses her face into his neck.
They stand like that for a while until she whispers into his ear. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“I know,” he murmurs back, running a soothing hand up and down her back.
“I really just need you.”
His heart melts at her words and he just hugs her even tighter. He’s always going to be there for her.
“You okay?” he mumbles into her hair.
She just shrugs, confirming his belief that it hadn’t been a good day. But she’s smiling when they pull apart and he thinks that even though he can’t fix everything, he’s made it a little better.
She tugs him towards the bed and five minutes later finds them cuddled up against each other, eating chocolates while a lemon vanilla scent fills the room.
A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt! I’m so honored to hear that my fics make you happy and help in some way! That is truly all I can ever hope for! I hope that you like this and that it’s what you’re looking for! (And you never have to apologize for your English! It’s so kind of you to put in the work to send me such a lovely message as it is!)
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Text
Paint My Spirit Gold
Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow
Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.
AO3 Link: [here]
Word Count: 2187
Warnings: n/a
@dukeceitweek <3
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[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]
A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence. 
“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.
“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”
Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.
“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”
Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.
The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.
“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”
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[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]
“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”
The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick
“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”
Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos. 
“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.” 
And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him. 
“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”
Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment. 
He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table.  He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop. 
'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock. 
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[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]
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Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really. 
He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in. 
“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”
He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”
Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?
“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”
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[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:
“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit. 
Starstruck96: who?
IneffableSnek: lmao
FeralBeauYasha: lol
VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill. 
FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?
IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf
FeralBeauYasha: ohh
VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom. 
StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch
IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean
IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s 
FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too
VampSuga: DUKECEIT”  /end ID]
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"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin. 
"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."
Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”
Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left. 
“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”
Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.
“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.
“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”
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[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]
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DukeceitStan
first and only dukeceit shipper ig
DukeceitStan
wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!
DukeceitStan
i want this to be canon so bad omg
DukeceitStan
i mean just look
[image]
how 
[image]
cute
[image]
[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.
The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left. 
The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand. 
The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]
“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”
“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”
“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”
“You should try harder.”
“Come to bed and maybe I will.”
“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”
“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”
“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”
-
[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID] 
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beelsnack · 3 years
Note
Hiya! I saw ur post about u being stressed at work so please take ur time with this request! There's no rush! Ur wellbeing is more important 💖 But when you get the time how about some headcanons for an MC who is very cute and naive but got teased for being so at RAD so they try to dress "cool" and pretend to be all badass but their tough persona just makes the demon brothers uwu even more cuz they think it's adorable how hard they're trying
Ah, thank you for being patient, Nonnie! I hope this was worth the wait!
I realized a bit too late that I may have misinterpreted your request a little, but I hope it turned out alright anyway. ^^
-----
Lucifer: “Careful, my dear, your face may get stuck like that.”
When the human turned around to greet him, they had their normal cheerful grin on their face. However, Lucifer watched as their expression turned surprised, then frustrated before they managed to school it back into the hilariously deep frown they had been forcing all day.
“Would you mind telling me why you’re making that ridiculous face?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” They fell into step beside him. Even though they had pretty much figured out the layout of RAD, Lucifer insisted on walking with them to the Student Council Chambers. At first, it was just to make sure they didn’t accidentally end up in the torture chambers in the lower levels, but now he genuinely enjoyed the few moments they had alone together. Hearing them chatter on about their day lifted his mood exponentially.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Lucifer inclined his head. “Force that scowl for much longer and you might pull a facial muscle.”
They wavered for a second before sighing. “Did it really look that bad?”
“It was quite an unnatural look for you.” he replied, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Would you mind telling me just what you were trying to do?”
“...Some demons in my class told me I smiled too much.” they admitted. “So I was trying to...not?”
Lucifer paused, regarding them with a raised eyebrow. “What in the Three Realms does ‘smiling too much’ mean?”
“I’m...not sure honestly,” they shrugged.
“My dear,” he stopped in front of them, placing his hands on their shoulders. “I don’t particularly care what those other demons think or want, but I will not have you depriving me of your beautiful smile.”
Mammon: That was his jacket.
It was way too big on them, making them look even smaller than they already did. It was also very clearly not part of the RAD uniform - not that any of the brothers wore their uniforms correctly, but the human was usually pretty up to code with theirs.
He caught up to them in a few steps and grabbed onto the collar of their - his - jacket. “Hey, human! Just what do you think you’re doing?”
They squeaked in surprise, and for a moment Mammon was caught off guard by how unbearably adorable it was. When they turned around, they were grinning sheepishly at him.
“H-hi Mammon.”
Oof. Honestly, he did not anticipate how seeing them wearing his clothes was going to affect him. The sleeves came down to their knuckles, and they had curled their fingers around the cuffs almost instinctively, It was too cute, he felt like his heart was trying to smash through his ribcage.
“You - you got a whole lotta nerve, stealing from the Great Mammon.” he released their collar, they both continued walking, although he had completely forgotten that his class was in the complete opposite direction.
“You left it in my room, though.”
“Doesn’t explain why you’re wearin’ it!”
“I’m sorry.” they sighed, beginning to shrug the jacket off of their shoulders. “Some demons were picking on me, so I thought they would leave me alone if I dressed a bit tougher. It didn’t work anyway, so I’ll give it back now.”
They were just about to yank their arms out of the sleeves when Mammon shook his head.
“Keep it, if it makes you feel better.” he definitely wasn’t blushing, nope, not even a little bit. “I’ve got others, so just accept the Great Mammon’s generosity.”
Leviathan: “Please tell me you didn’t pay a stupid amount of cash for those.”
The human frowned up at Levi, putting a hand over their new headphones almost protectively. “I paid a perfectly reasonable amount!”
“I wouldn’t pay anything for those,” he frowned. “The manufacturers would have to pay me, actually.”
“Alright, alright, I get it!” they huffed. “I just bought them so people would stop talking about me when they think I’m listening.”
Levi tilted his head. “Huh?”
The human sighed, playing idly with the cord of the headphones. “Some demons in my Curses class like to freak me out by saying how yummy I look when they catch my eye. I kind of hoped that they would stop if they weren’t getting a rise out of me.”
A white-hot surge of protectiveness crashed over him as the human curled in on themself. He might have been a giant otaku, but he would be damned if he let anything happen to his best friend. Well, more damned than he already was, anyway.
“You should have just said something,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have an old pair you can have. They still work fine, but they released a limited-edition Ruri-chan version and obviously I have to rep my waifu so I’ve been using those - “
Satan: “Can I ask you something?”
The two of them were on their way to the RAD’s library. Satan honestly didn’t need to study, but the human definitely did, and using an academic excuse meant that Lucifer was more likely to leave the two of them alone.
“Of course,” Satan held the door open for them. Without even bothering to look, he began walking over to the table that had basically become their territory. Even if there were other demons there, they would probably scamper off.
“How do you get people to be afraid of you?”
Satan paused, raising an eyebrow in an expression that definitely did not make him look strikingly like Lucifer. “Me specifically?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, being the Avatar of Wrath gives me a leg up.”
The human scowled. “Damn it.”
“Why would you want people to be afraid of you?” Satan asked as they sat down. Up until this point, the human’s modus operandi was being so sweet that nobody ever wanted to hurt them, so the threatening angle was a complete 180.
“Some demons in class were making comments about me being dessert.” they mumbled, taking out their textbooks before slinging their bag over the back of the chair. “I honestly couldn’t tell if they were talking about my personality or my flesh, so…”
“Okay, first of all,” Satan leaned forward on his elbows. “We kill them.”
“Satan, no.”
Asmodeus: “Oh, darling, what have you done to yourself?”
They really needed to get a “Do Not Disturb” sign or something. Not that it would stop anything, but still.
Asmo at least had the decency to shut the door behind him, but that was as far as it went. He was openly staring at them, doing his best impression of the Scream painting.
“The makeup tutorial made this look so much easier.” they sighed, leaning back in their chair.
“They always do,” Asmo came over behind them, placing his hands on their shoulders as he leaned down to look at their laptop screen. “Never trust the ones on Sinterest.”
Their final product looked nothing like the model on the screen. The wings of their eyeliner were crooked, and one eye was longer than the other. The contouring made them look like a clown, and somehow they had gotten black eyeshadow on their nose.
“That’s quite the change of pace for you, darling.” Asmo commented, “It’s a look, but why the sudden switch?”
The human remained silent, their bottom lip quivering in a way that made Asmo want to gathering them up in a blanket. Eventually, they sighed again.
“All the succubi look so cool, and I always look...” they paused. “Human.”
“Darling, I don’t know how to break this to you - “
“I know, I know.” they grumbled. “I just wanted to look badass for once!”
The puppy-dog pout they had going on wasn’t doing anything for that particular look, but Asmo decided to keep that comment to himself. Instead, he spun them around, hands still on their shoulders. “Now, now, don’t make that face. Let’s see if we can’t fix this up a little, hm?”
Beelzebub: “What are you doing?”
He hadn’t meant to scare them, but they jumped like he had jumped from the ceiling. The yelp they let out made him feel guilty. Maybe Mammon was right when he said that Beel was disturbingly sneaky for someone his size.
Usually the gym was empty when he came for his morning workout, so seeing the human seated on the workout bench was a definite surprise. Not a bad one though.
“Beel!” the set the weight down. “Um…g-good morning…?”
“Morning,” he replied, making his way over to where they were situated. “You’re not usually one to workout, much less this early in the morning.”
“I, uh…” they stammered. “I wanted to get a little stronger, is all.”
“Not that I’m going to stop you,” he set his gym bag down next to the weight rack. “But why?”
They grumbled under their breath, but eventually sighed. “Some demons at RAD told me I looked chewy.”
“I mean, you kind of do.”
“Hey!”
“All humans look chewy, though.” he shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing. But you want to build up some muscle, right?”
They pouted, and Beel really wanted to reach out and pat them on the head. Instead, he sat next to them on the bench and handed them the weight they had been using.
“Okay, so you want to hold it like this…”
Belphegor: “You had a funny dream last night.”
They had learned from experience that telling Belphie to stop invading their privacy by watching their dreams did exactly fuck all, so they just huffed in annoyance as he flopped against their shoulder. “It wasn’t funny.”
“Amusing, then.”
“For you, maybe.”
They felt him smirk against their shoulder. “You really think a leather jacket and sunglasses will make demons think you’re tough?”
“More than skipping around with flowers in my hair would.”
“I think you would look cute with flowers in your hair. Let’s take some black roses from Diavolo’s garden.”
“Aren’t those poisonous?”
Belphie shifted, nuzzling into their neck as the professor walked in. “It’ll help with the tough image.”
“For about 4 hours until I start foaming at the mouth.” they folded their arms, jostling Belphie from their shoulder.
The demon laughed, pillowing his head in his arms as he leaned forward onto the desk. “I like how you are now. If someone starts giving you trouble, I’ll kill them for you.”
“No cannibalism, please.”
“That’s more Beel’s territory.”
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kazukorre · 3 years
Text
⌗ LIVING DEAD GIRL ‹ ISSEI MATSUKAWA
pairing: m. issei + gn! reader (yes, the title is a misnomer,, it's a song title!)
genre: angst?
warnings: reader is dead but no injuries specified, cursing, angel's shitty writing (let me know if i should tag w/ anything else!!)
word count: 2.1k (wasn't expecting that lol)
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In high school, Issei Matsukawa did not see himself becoming a coroner. In truth, the thought the profession was weird, “why would anyone wanna spend their day cutting open dead people?” he would ask, viewing death as a matter to be avoided. This changed following the murder of a close friend, the boy quickly becoming fascinated with death and the mystery of what happens after someone closes their eyes for good. And if he could do anything to make the transition easier for someone, he would. 
So here he found himself, spending his days cutting open dead people. He found it to be, well, less depressing than he thought it would be. It could be partially due to the fact that most people he did autopsies on died of natural causes or sustained very few injuries. That was until you came into his lab, no different than others he’d seen before, lying unmoving on a metal stretcher and covered by a white sheet. 
Issei began his process as he always did, opening a new report on his laptop then removing the thin fabric that covered you. “Holy shit.” His comment was quiet, almost a whisper as he assessed your body, more gruesome than he had seen before. “What happened to you?” Issei asked no one in particular, something he did often, though this time he received an answer; “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” The man spun so quickly he thought he would snap his neck. Behind him, you stood, looking as you did on the lab table but reanimated and missing your injuries. Issei froze, unsure of what was happening and he watched as you stepped forward to view your own body. “Wow, I look really bad. At least you haven’t cut me open yet, I dunno if I’d be able to handle the sight of my own insides.” Issei stared in disbelief, eyes darting from the dead body on the table to the seemingly alive one standing next to it. “But you’re- how are you- what the fuck?” His voice shook with fear and confusion. “Relax.” You hoisted yourself atop one of the file cabinets before continuing. “You act like you’ve never seen a ghost before.” Your voice carried almost a mocking lilt as if to criticize the man in front of you. “I haven’t!” Issei’s voice raised an octave or two, his comment ending in what almost sounded like a squeak. “Oh, my bad. You can keep working, don’t let me hold you up.” You turned to face the opposite direction on the file cabinet, not wanting to see him perform your autopsy. “I don’t think I can do that while you’re um- here.” He swallowed thickly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You sighed and turned back around. 
“Fine. Then I need to talk to you. Well, actually, I have a favor to ask of you.” A curse of disbelief escaped under his breath before he responded. “Okay. But I have to ask you something first.” You nodded and he continued. “What is this? Why are you- how are you here?” You puffed your cheeks and blew the air out. “I have no family, and I didn’t have any ID on me, so the police don’t know who I am. So, you get to help me solve my murder. Congrats?” There was a pregnant pause before Issei spoke. “I still don’t get it.” “It’s called the coroner’s curse, don’t ask about the name, I didn’t come up with it. Basically, If someone is murdered but the case likely won’t get solved, like mine, then the coroner has to help them. That’s you.” Issei stared at you quizically. “So, I have to solve your murder? But how? I don’t know you.”
You slipped down from the file cabinet and made your way over to the half-empty report open on Issei’s computer. “You don’t have to have known the victim in order to help them. It’s just how the curse goes. But if it’s of any importance, you did know me. Kind of.” You began to fill in empty spaces of information like your name, age, and address. “No, I didn’t.” “That’s why I said kind of. The bar you go to all the time, I worked there. Used to see you come in all the time, I understand now why you do, this job must be depressing. Anyway,” you turned to the man behind you, “I’ll let you finish what you have to do. Meet me at the bar tomorrow night, 9:00, okay?” Issei hesitated before agreeing, feeling foolish and slightly off his rocker for agreeing to help some rando solve their murder, but nonetheless, he nodded. Offering him a smile, you left the lab, just as any living person would do. 
Issei stood in the alley behind the local bar he frequented, looking around for any sign of you. “Boo.” The man jumped, his reaction mirroring the one he had when he first met you. “You can’t do that to me!” You simply laughed at how skittish he was and he sent you a death glare as you tried to catch your breath. “Okay, let’s keep the talking to a minimum. Remember, no one else can see me. Let’s go, follow me.” You began walking to the other end of the alley, Issei following close behind. “This is where I was killed by the way, if you were curious.” You pointed to a spot next to one of the dumpsters. When he looked, Issei saw dark stains decorating the brick wall and the metal of the dumpster. “Pretty cool, huh?” He grimaced, “Not really, no.” 
Soon, the two of you arrived at your apartment, or technically, what used to be your apartment. Before Issei could ask how you were supposed to get in without keys, the door opened from the inside, revealing you in the doorway. “How did you-?” “I’m a ghost, duh. Catch up.”
You motioned him inside and led him to your bedroom. You handed him a photo of a man then turned to rustle through your desk drawers. “What do I do with this?” “That’s the guy you have to go after. He’s the one who did it.” Dropping his hand to his side, Issei looked to you again as you handed him something else, this time it was a stack of what looked like pages from a diary. “These are his journal entries. I found them one night when I stayed over at his house. I took them just in case I ever- well in case this happened. It’s basically a written confession. I have other stuff too, but these pages should be enough. He was dumb enough to sign them, so his name’s there.”
As you turned again to grab more pieces of potential evidence, Issei began to zone out. He wished that he could have done the same for his friend years back before he became a coroner. He was unaware of how much their death had affected him and how little he had processed it. “Hey, what’s your deal?” Issei blinked a few times before speaking. “Uh, nothing, I just- nothing.” He cleared his throat and looked down. “You were crying. Sure you’re okay?” He nodded. “I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you this, since you’re dead and all, but. My friend, they- they were murdered, too. The police didn’t do anything about it, said it was probably just gang violence and they’d probably never find the person who did it so…” His voice trailed off and the end of his sentence, eyes burning with tears. “So I guess, by helping you, I’m helping them, too. It sounds stupid but-” “It’s not stupid, it’s sweet. I’m sorry about your friend, though, I’m sure they were great.” Issei nodded and cleared his throat again. “I’m just glad I get to help you.”
“Right. So, what you’ll do is put all of this in an envelope, bring it to the precinct and tell them you have information that could help with my case number, and give them the envelope. Oh! Here’s a photo of me, for identification. And tell them you wanna remain anonymous, you look different from him anyway, so they shouldn’t suspect you.” You handed Issei a large orange envelope and the photo of you. He stuffed the papers and photos into it before sealing it. “Do you need me to walk you home or do you think you can find your way?” “I think I’ve got it from here. But, what about you? What happens to you now?” You chuckled sadly before answering with what you thought was an obvious answer. “Well, I finish dying. Go into the light or whatever. Your job is done, you have what you need to solve this for me, so I’m done here.” Issei swallowed thickly. “So, that’s it. I won’t see you again?” You smirked at him playfully, “What, you got a crush on me or something?” He flushed at your accusation before stammering out an answer “N-no! This just seems anti-climactic, I guess.” “Anti-climactic? You helped a dead person solve their own murder, how is that anti-climactic?” Issei laughed at how seemingly offended you were by his comment. “I guess you’re right. I should go, I’ll let you uh, finish dying, then.” 
The two of you made your way out of your bedroom and back to the front door. “Thanks for helping me, Issei. I appreciate it. You helped me get my name back.” Your tone was sing-songy as you said your last sentence. “No problem, it’s not like I had much choice anyway.” You gasped dramatically, causing the two of you to share genuine laughs. “But seriously, you’re welcome. I’m glad I could help you.” You nodded and ushered him out of the door, offering him a wave and watching him walk down the hall of your apartment floor and into the stairwell. 
Issei shivered as he stepped into the air-conditioned precinct, sealed envelope in hand. He approached the woman at the front desk, clearing his throat to grab her attention. “How may I help you?” Issei placed the envelope on the desk and slid it gently toward her. “Uh, I have some info in here that could help with a recent murder. Case uh, case number 3386?” The woman nodded, taking the envelope and setting it next to her. “May I ask your name?” Issei rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Could I remain anonymous?” The receptionist hummed in agreement and thanked him for his help. He nodded and stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket, walking out of the precinct. 
[# an epilogue, of sorts]
A month had passed since your murder. Issei kept the photo you had given him instead of turning it in to the authorities. He felt some strange connection to you. Despite only knowing you for two days, he couldn’t get over the fact that you saw him nearly every night. How much of his life did you see? He kept it in a frame on his nightstand right next to a photo of his friend, and soon it became a habit of his to say goodnight to you both. Issei hadn’t noticed how lonely he truly was. Of course, he was still in touch with a few friends from high school. But since his friend’s passing the topic of conversation always seemed to shift to them and it soon became too much for Issei to handle. Being a coroner was oddly peaceful to him, but being surrounded by death all day was melancholic still. It wasn’t until he ‘met’ you that he realized how much he missed being around other people. He existed in a world of isolation and loss, so much so that though you were dead, your soul brought light to his life.
Issei saw to it that you had a proper burial, using his connection with the local funeral home to give you the sendoff he felt you deserved. He would visit your grave often, though sometimes he felt strange about it, visiting the resting site of someone he barely knew, but he always knew there was a reason behind it. Something that kept bringing him back to that cemetery, something that told him there was something in there for him. He was glad he did, though, because being in that cemetery during a rainstorm led him to his future significant other, the person he needed to end the dull and lonesome cycle of his life. He prospered in the end, eventually marrying them and beginning a life of his own. You watched from above all the while, cheering on your unlikely friend from the afterlife.
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hmm... i dont know if i like this,, but its been years since ive written anything so im probably very rusty (=_=)
tags r such a pain ew
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
Text
Riding High
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Ch19: Unfair Comparison
Chapter Summary: Fliss is not a happy bunny when she realises Frank hasn’t dumped the card.
Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, NO UNDER 18s!)
Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 18
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  “What an ass hole." Greg shook his head, tossing the card onto the coffee table. "Tell me about it." Frank sighed as he ran his hand through his hair and leaned back heavily against the cushions of Greg's sofa. "I just..." "I know pal." Greg soothed him, "Technically you’re right, he has breached his parole. So Fliss would be perfectly within her tights to call the police. However, he’s gonna deny it, there’ll be an investigation…you’re back into statements possibly court again...all it needs is one member of a jury, if it even goes that far to doubt he sent it and..." "So I'm just supposed to sit back and let it lie?" Frank looked at Greg, almost pleading with the man to give him some kind of advice he could use. "In a word yes." Greg shrugged "and not least because that's what Fliss asked you to."
“I’m worried Greg.” Frank shook his head “Yes, it’s just a card but it proves he knows where she is…” “Not hard, her business has a website.” “Yes, I know that…” Frank started but Greg cut him off. “Frank, he can’t come out of Massachusetts. He cannot physically set foot outside of that state without his GPS tag tipping the police off.”
 Frank bit the inside of his cheek, his jaw twitching.
 “Look, buddy, I get it.” Greg continued, his tone soft “I really do…it’s shit. But for now the best thing for you to do is listen to Fliss.”
 “This is bullshit.”
“Tell you what. I’ll keep the card. If she gets any more stuff from him then we can build a portfolio and send it to the police. It’s more likely to come to something if we have more incidents.”
“So basically, we just have to wait until he sends her more crap and then we might, or might not be able to do anything?” “I’m sorry pal.” Greg shrugged.
“It’s not your fault.” Frank sighed, shrugging. “Sorry I snapped. I appreciate the advice.”
 “I wish I could be a little more positive.”
 “Don’t we all?” Frank said, slapping his thighs with his hands “I best get off, got stuff to do this afternoon.” Greg eyed him for a moment as he stood up, before he rose from his seat to see Frank out of the villa.
 “Just be there for Fliss ok?” he said as they walked to the door “Frank, if she’s asking you to do something, unless it’s really dumb then do it. Give her the control, yeah?” Frank merely nodded and then climbed into his truck, still as pissed off as he had been when he had arrived. He reached for his shades, slipped them on and headed down to the marina. He spent the afternoon cleaning the boat. And whilst it didn’t take him long as they hadn’t taken an awful lot with them, he decided to give the entire thing a good wash down and polish inside, more to keep him occupied. Paul arrived at just gone 3 pm, and was over the moon with the fact his boat had come back to him in a better condition than it had gone out in…making a quip that Frank could borrow it whenever the hell he wanted if it meant service like that.
He was just heading back to his truck when Fliss called him.
 “How are my girls?” he asked and she chuckled slightly. 
“Good, we’re done now so be heading home soon. What do you fancy for dinner? Anything in particular?” “I’ll swing by the store, pick up a few steaks and we can grill.” Frank said, climbing into the truck “And a bottle of Rioja?” “Perfect. Did you get rid of that card?” Frank hesitated for a second. “I took care of it.”
 “Frank?”  her voice had grew a little sterner. “What does that mean? What did you do?” “I took it to Greg.” he grimaced as she made an angry noise on the other side of the phone.
 “Damnit Frank, I asked you to get rid of it…” “I just wanted some advice. Thought I’d see what Greg made of it and-“
“You had no right to do that…” her voice was angry “That wasn’t your decision to make…” “Lissy…” he sighed “Look, let’s not do this on the phone. We can discuss it at home ok?”
 And then the familiar tone hit his ear, signalling she’d hung up.
 With a groan he banged his forehead against the steering wheel in frustration. He wasn’t looking forward one bit to that conversation.
He walked into the store a few blocks from their home, and for a second debated taking his time, just to stall but he knew he would simply be delaying the inevitable. It didn’t matter how long he left it, there was going to be an argument. He grabbed what they needed for dinner, and a few packets of snacks before he headed back out to his truck. 5 minutes or so later he was home, and walked up the steps, letting himself in. Fliss and Mary were both in the kitchen, Mary sat on the counter with a juice box, Fliss clutching a beer.
 “Hey…” he said, a little tentatively. Fliss gave him a tight smile and turned her head so that his kiss landed on her cheek. 
Yeah, he was in for it. Big time.
“You had a good day?” he asked, placing the bag on the side and looked at Mary.
 She nodded eagerly “I cantered today, off the lead line,” “Did you?” He smiled at her “Nice work Stack.” “Fliss got a video. Can we show Frank?” “Sure.” Fliss smiled at her, and pulled out her phone. She swiped at the screen and passed it to Mary who took it, and Frank moved so he could watch the footage over her shoulder.
 “My balance is still a little bit crappy…” Mary shrugged “But I didn’t fall.” “Your balance is fine.” Fliss said gently “You just need to keep your lower leg still but that will come in time. You’re doing great.” Mary beamed and handed Fliss her phone back.
“Why don’t you go get showered?” Frank looked at Mary “I need to speak to Fliss for a moment ok?”
 “Can I go on my computer once I’m washed up?” “Sure.” Frank nodded. She hopped down from the counter and wandered out of the room. Frank watched her go for a moment before he turned to see Fliss was stood looking at him. “So what did Greg say?” she asked, folding her arms
 “Nothing different to what you said.” Frank looked at her.
 “Right, and if he had said something different, like told you to go to the police, would you have done that behind my back too?” “No, of course not!” Frank shook his head as he leaned back against the kitchen counter, both hands either side of his body on the edge of the worktop, “That’s not what I-“ he took a deep breath “Honey, I just want to make sure that we do everything right. Greg’s gonna keep the card on file, says if you get anything else then he’ll keep that too, build a case.”
 Fliss looked at him for a moment before she shrugged “Whatever” “Whatever?” Frank frowned “That’s all you can say, whatever?” “Well what else am I supposed to say?” she looked back at him “You clearly know best…” “Fliss…” he sighed, “Don’t be like that…” “I’m not being like anything.” she shook her head “You’re the one that went behind my back, ignored what I asked you to do.”
 “With good reason…” “You know, I thought I might be at a point in my life where I get to make the decisions about things that directly affect or concern me but clearly, I was wrong…” “Woah, woah, woah, now hang on…” Frank pushed away from the unit he was leaning against, holding his hand up “Are you seriously comparing what I did to him….” “No, of course not.” she snapped. “Well that kinda sounds like what you were doing…” his hands fell to his hips.
 “Oh don’t be a dick, Frank.” she glared at him. “That’s not what I meant.” “Well what did you mean?”
 “I already said exactly what I mean!” she said, her voice rising in volume “You had no right to do that, no right at all to go behind my back like you did. I couldn’t do anything about him getting released, but the one thing I can control is how I react to this entire situation…and you took that away from me!” “You’re completely overreacting…” “Overreacting?” “Yes…” he strepped towards her “Liss, I didn’t do it to take control…nothing of the sort…” “How would you feel if you told me not to do something with Mary, something that meant a lot to you, and I still went and did it anyway?” “That’s…” he shook his head “That’s completely different.” “No, it isn’t!” she yelled back “It would be a complete disregard for your wishes, it’s exactly the same…” Frank looked at her, his eyes locking onto hers as she simply snorted and shook her head “You don’t even see what you did wrong do you?” “No, and I’m not apologising either.” he shook his head
“Of course you’re not.” she snorted “This is getting us nowhere.”
 With that she turned and called for Thor.
 “Where are you going?” he frowned, following her into the hall as she slipped on her sneakers.
 “Out.”
“Where?” he asked, when she didn’t reply he pressed again “Lissy.” “Piss off Frank.” she shot back, and with that she stormed out of the front door, slamming it behind her.
 Frank stood still, his hands on his hips before he dropped his head with a sigh.
 “Nice job…” he heard Mary say from behind him.
 “Shut up.” he snapped, a little harshly as he turned to face her. She glared at him and then rolled her eyes.
 “I’m going back to my room.” she said simply, stalking off down the corridor, laptop under her arm.
 Frank watched her go before he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Way to go Adler, you fucking idiot.
**** Fliss angrily stomped across the lawn and took a right, Thor trotting at her heels. She walked down the path that led to the Marina, took a left and dropped down the stone steps onto the beach, pausing to remove her sneakers. She dug her toes into the sand, rolled up her riding britches as much as she could before she headed to the waters edge, allowing the water to splash over her legs, Thor giving an excited bark as he gambolled in and out of the waves.
She was angry. Angrier than she had been in a long time. But it was more than that, she felt betrayed in a way. She had asked Frank to do something, something she felt she was perfectly within her rights to request and he had deliberately ignored her.
 She wasn’t sure how long she had been stood there, simply looking out over at the horizon but she was jolted from her thoughts by her phone ringing. She debated ignoring it for a while, but eventually she pulled it from her pocket and took a breath as she realised it was her Dad.
 “Hey Pops.” she greeted him. “You ok?” “Yeah fine Titch.” he said, “Just noticed I had a missed call…” “Oh, yeah…” she said, for a moment she had forgotten she had called. She had been planning to tell him about the card but as she stood there, she wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore “It wasn’t important.” “Charming…” she heard her mother and Fliss let out a chuckle.
“You got me on speaker?”
 “Bluetooth.” Bill replied “We’ve been to the store.” “Stocking up for tomorrow.” Verity said “Can’t have a roast dinner with no potatoes…Mary would have a fit.”
 “Yeah…yeah she will.” Fliss said with a sigh.
 There was a pause before Bill spoke again “Lissy, you ok?” “Not really no…” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. “Me and Frank, we had an argument…a pretty big one…” “What about?” Bill asked.
“So, this morning I had a card arrive at the yard…and it was from John…” Bill made an angry noise as Verity let out an exclamation.
“That’s…he’s broken his parole…” “I know, but they’re not gonna launch an investigation over a card…so I asked Frank to get rid of it. But he took it to Greg behind my back and…” She trailed off, rubbing at her temple.
“So I’m guessing you discussed your disappointment with him in a calm and collected manner…” Bill said sarcastically.
 “If by calm you mean calling him a dick and storming out then yeah.” Fliss replied.
There was another moment of silence and Verity spoke again. “Honey, look…I’m sure he did what he thought was right…” “That’s not the point!” Fliss groaned “the point is I asked him not to. And he did it anyway. The one thing I can control in all of this is how I deal with it. And he completely disregarded that.” “Look, Liss, I love you to pieces, we both do” Bill spoke “But so does Frank, and him taking that card to Greg won’t have been about going behind your back. Have you considered how he feels in all of this?” “How he feels?” “Yeah, this is…this is something he will never have dealt with before. Seeing some other man basically trying to terrorise his girlfriend…he’s going to want to hit back, try and see if there’s something he can do. This isn’t about control. It’s about keeping you safe.”
Verity picked up the conversation at that point.
“I see your point sweetheart, and yes, he should have discussed it first but...” “So you both think I’m in the wrong?” Fliss asked gently, as she looked at her feet, Thor returning to her side and flopping down on the damp sand. “No…that’s not what either of are saying, is it V?”
 “No, not at all. He had no right to go behind your back, I get that honey I do, but…well, this can’t be easy for Frank either. And maybe…” “Maybe you should cut him some slack.” Bill finished “He’s a good man Fliss, and heaven knows you waited long enough for one to come along.”
 “I know.” Fliss said quietly, the tears trickling down her face. “I know…” “I can hear the ocean…so go home.” Bill said gently. “Talk to him. Calmly. Don’t let that asshole get in the middle of what you two have Titch, you both deserve more than that.”
 She nodded to herself, wiping her face and then bidding her parents good-bye she placed the phone back in her pocket.  Mulling their words over she turned and headed back across the sand, the sun setting behind them as she made her way over to the food truck parked by the side of the boardwalk.
******
 By the time Frank had convinced Mary to speak to him so he could apologise for snapping, it was getting dark out. Fliss had been gone for a good hour and a half, and Frank was getting a little concerned. He was just about to call Roberta to watch Mary whilst he went out looking, when the door opened and Thor padded into the living room.
 Frank stood up and turned to see Fliss in the doorway. Her eyes locked onto his and he gave her a small smile.
 “I was getting kinda worried.” Frank said softly “Wasn’t sure you were coming home.”
 “Neither was I.” she replied honestly and Frank swallowed slightly as she looked at him and sighed “I’m going for a shower then to bed. I’m tired.” “Ok.” he nodded “Do you want something to eat or…” “I grabbed a burger when I was out.” she shrugged, “I’m fine, thanks.” There was a moment of silence during which Frank simply nodded and then Fliss turned and headed down the corridor, popping her head into Mary’s room to say goodnight. Once he watched her open the door to the bathroom and shut it behind her, he set about quickly tidying the kitchen up, tossing the empty beer bottles into the recycling box under the sink before he loaded the dishwasher and set it going.  He moved around the living room, tidying a few things away before he turned the lights off and made his way into the bedroom.
Fliss was led on the bed, remote to the TV held in her hand as she glanced up at him for a second, her eyes flicking back to the screen on the wall. 
“You still mad at me?” he asked tentatively as he pulled off his t-shirt. She looked at him for a second and sighed.
 “Dad told me I was being an idiot.” “Right.” he said, sitting down on the bed next to her, extending his legs down the bed “That’s not answering my question sweetheart.” “I don’t know anymore” she shrugged “Yes, I’m still mad you did it…but I understand why. The fact you had the right intentions doesn’t make going behind my back any better.” “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that, and yeah, ok, I should have asked you first, talked it over.” Frank conceded nodding “I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry if you thought before that I was saying you’re anything like him because you’re not…and I know that…because I can get mad at you and…well, that makes it impossible to stay mad at you for long…”
“What?” Frank looked at her, smiling, his eyebrow raised. “What does that even mean?” Fliss looked at him, a faint smile on her face as she sighed “It means that I can get mad at you, and shout, and leave in a temper tantrum for a walk or whatever, without worrying that when I come back you’re gonna hurt me.” Frank looked at her for a moment, as her words sunk in. Something so simple as having an argument was such a huge thing for her, and the fact she even saw having an argument as a measurement of how much she could trust him because she felt comfortable enough to call him out on the things he did that she didn’t like or agree with, was utterly fucked up. But in a strange way, made total sense.
 She could argue with him because she felt safe…
 Frank moved so he was led on his side, propped up on his elbow facing her, his hand gently reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked down at him where she was led, shoulders leaning against the bottom of the head board of the bed. He could see she was getting upset now, her brown eyes were watering and with a sigh he gestured with his head and opened his arms and she shuffled down further, allowing him to pull her into his chest, gently kissing her head.
 “I love you.” he said softly “So much. I only went to Greg because I was worried. I’d do anything to keep you and Mary safe, you know that.”
 “I know…” she said quietly as he slid his finger under her chin, lifting her head so that she was looking at him. Lowering his head, he kissed her softly, his hand cupping her cheek as his lips gently worked against hers. She relaxed into him, allowing him to deepen the kiss, his hand tangling in her hair as her fingers softly skated through his short beard. Frank let out a smile against her mouth and she pulled back to look at him, her soft, brown eyes searching his.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing…” he smiled, “I just like it when you do that…” “What? This?” she asked, her nails scratching slightly against his whiskers and he let out a sigh of satisfaction, giving a nod. Fliss watched him for a second as his eyelids flickered shut, those ridiculously long lashes resting against his cheeks as she continued to gently run her hands through his beard, before she shuffled closer and pressed her lips to his.
 “I like it when you do that too…” he chuckled and she smiled against his mouth. They continued trading soft, tender kisses before Frank slowly moved so that Fliss was led under him, caging her with his arms as she gently ran her hands through his hair, pulling his head back down to kiss her again. His lips gently trailed along her jaw line to that spot on her neck just below her ear where he gave a soft nip causing Fliss to let out a soft moan. Her hips bucked upwards slightly, drawing a soft growl from Frank’s throat at the feeling as she pushed against him, all the time his mouth continuing its path downwards, tracing the line of her throat as his hands reached down and gently tugged at the hem of her vest top. She sat up slightly allowing him to remove it and he fell back over her, his lips latching back onto her neck, drawing another soft groan from Fliss at the feeling of his beard scratching against her skin and the contrast of his soft lips. His tongue circled the swell of her breast before he gently took a nipple into his mouth, listening to her keens as he teased her, his other hand sliding down over the curve of her hip, fingers brushing the hem of her sleep shorts before he slid his hand beneath the material, parting her folds as he began to tease her with his fingers, coaxing more and more wetness from her as he went. He glanced up to see her head was thrown back against her pillow, eyes shut in utter bliss as she bit her lip.
 “Look at me.” he said softly, moving so that his face was hovering over hers again, fingers still working. She opened those deep brown eyes he felt he could drown in and her pupils were blown with desire. His fingers picked up their pace and he slid one, then two inside her, curling against her spot over and over again.
 “Frankie…” she panted as her back arched, “I..”  her words stopped as she found herself unable to form them any longer, instead issuing a low gasp which turned into a groan as her eyes fluttered shut and she convulsed underneath him, tighten around his fingers. Eventually she relaxed and her breathing evened out slightly and she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face before her hand slid up into his hair, as he slanted his mouth over hers.
 Then it was a fast scramble to get both of them out of the last remaining, thin barriers of clothing before Frank nestled into the v of her legs, mouth nipping at her collar bone.
 “Want you…” she purred into his ear and fuck, did he want her too. Her hand reached down between them, and she gently lined him up, pressing her lips to his.
“Don’t keep me waiting Sailor.”
 And Frank, not one to refuse his girl what she wanted did as she asked, worked into her with a steady, gentle movement which made him shudder, dropping to his elbows over her as she gave a soft moan. Her hands gently gripped at his broad shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts slow and gentle at first, hips rocking against hers. Their mouths crashed together in a sloppy kiss as she raked her nails down his back, the sting on his skin caused desire to lance through him even more and he gave a groan, picking up the pace slightly, her body moving with his from each steady thrust, skin sliding against skin, the soft sounds of sex and groans and whimpers filled the air and half the time Frank was at a loss as to who exactly was making them. 
 “More…” she begged softly, and he hooked his hand under her knee, wrapping her leg up round his waist allowing him to drive deeper. She gave a loud mewl underneath him as her nails dug further into his shoulders as he moved faster, reading the signs she was giving him, his hips now snapping back and forth with a needy desire, the carnal want he had for this woman consumed him and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.
 “Come on baby…” his breath was ragged on her ear as he gently sucked at that spot again, feeling her writhing underneath him. “I got you, let go…”
 His breath caught slightly as she tipped her head to press her lips to his, the kiss heated and he swallowed the loud groan she made before her head fell back her hands gripping to his back as if her life depended on it.
 “Frankie…I’m…gonna…” she managed to stutter before her mouth once more slackened and her sultry lament made Frank shudder as her body shook underneath him, her leg twitching as he held it tight round his waist. Her heat gripped him, pulsing again and again and he felt the burning deep in the pit of his stomach, the surge of his own orgasm felt like it was rising from his very toes as he drove into her once more.
 “Fuck, Lissy…” he mumbled and a guttural rumble erupted from his throat as his hips stuttered slightly before he made another few shallow thrusts before he collapsed forward, burying his head in her neck as the afterglow consumed him.
 He had no idea how long passed before he managed to muster enough about himself to raise his head. She still had her eyes closed but there was a satisfied smile playing on her lips, one he couldn’t help but mirror. As he watched her face, the tip of his nose gently resting against hers, her eyelids flickered open and he smiled down at her, gently pressing their foreheads together.
 “Ok?”
 “Yeah…” her voice was raspy and she swallowed “That was more than ok…” He chuckled as he met her lips in a soft kiss, before he gently rolled off her, laying on his back and reaching down for the duvet which was tangled around their legs. After a short wrestle with it and a bit more giggling they both settled down, Fliss’ head on his chest as he lay on his back, his hand softly carding through her hair.
***** The next few weeks skipped by fairly uneventfully, bar the almost meltdown Mary had when it was revealed to her that she wouldn’t be going back into Bonnie’s class when September rolled around. Frank tried to explain to her that wasn’t how school worked but she was besides herself, declaring she wasn’t going back to school if that was the case, leaving Frank groaning about the possibility of repeat of the scene they had the previous year.
 In the end, it was the twins that managed to explain it to her. Steve and his family came over to visit again for 2 weeks in the middle of August and the boys Charlie and Joel spent a lot of time at Fliss and Frank’s for sleepovers, Fliss loved having her nephews to stay and the boys thought Frank was the best person ever when he took them out on a boat he borrowed from work, allowing them each to take a go at sailing. Or being Pirates as they excitedly exclaimed.
One night when they were all sat in the lounge getting ready to settle in for a movie, Frank overheard Charlie telling Mary all about how he was looking forward to moving into the bigger classroom and learning cool news stuff. He could see the cogs whirring in her head and Fliss had smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek, whispering that she’d told him it would all work out in the end. And, thankfully, she was right.
One person who was NOT looking forward to the return of the school year was Bonnie. One Thursday night she called Fliss begging her got on a girl’s night out as she needed to blow off some end of holiday blues. Fliss agreed and arranged to meet up with her on Saturday evening. The weekend rolled round fairly quickly and Fliss was in a good mood when she arrived at work, a few lessons to do before she could head home and start getting ready. She was just heading out to the first one when her phone rang. The number was withheld but that wasn’t uncommon as a lot of people called about lessons in such a way.
 “Fliss Gallagher…” she answered. No one spoke in response. “Hello?”
 Nothing.
 With a shrug she cut the call and replaced it back into her pocket, making her way over to the paddock, when the phone went again. She repeated the process and there was still no one talking on the other side. 
“You ok?” Joanne looked at her, as Fliss frowned.
“Yeah, I just had 2 silent calls…” Fliss shrugged
 “Probably someone ass-dialling”
 “Yeah, maybe…” Fliss said, not voicing where her mind had instantly gone, straight to John.  She stuck the phone in her pocket once more and strode into the paddock, greeting her client.
 There were no more calls that day, which made Fliss comfortable enough that it wasn’t her ex. If it was and he was playing some stupid game he wouldn’t have stopped. So by the time Mary appeared to do her stable chores and ride Monty she was in fairly good spirits. Fliss decided that they were going to do something a little different on Mary’s lesson today, and she placed a few poles on the floor and had Mary walk Monty over them first, then do them in trot. It wasn’t hard for the pony, and he knew his job but it was different for Mary, making her concentrate fully on where she was going. Frank leaned on the paddock fence watching the pair of them as Fliss walked along side Mary, chatting away to her before she stepped back and allowed Mary to try it on her own. The smile on Mary’s face was all Frank needed to see and he nodded to her as she looked over to him, his hand falling to Thor’s head as the dog had jumped up, leaning his paws on the top of the fence.
“Alright buddy?” he asked, scratching his ears as Thor panted in response, giving a sharp bark at Fliss who turned to look at them, grinning.
 One the horses were fed they all made their way home and after dinner Fliss grabbed a glass of wine and headed for a shower and then to get ready. 40 minutes or so later she emerged dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white off the shoulder top that had large pineapples printed on it and on her feet she wore a pair of gold sandals. To finish the beach-chic look, her auburn hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck and she was wearing a pair of gold hooped earrings along with her Pandora bracelet.
“You look lovely.” Frank smiled at her, and she grinned back. “Ready to go?” “Yeah…” she nodded “Can we pick Bonnie up on our way?”
 “Sure.” Frank nodded, turning to Mary “Come on Stack. We’ll swing by for ice cream on our way home.” “Yesss….” Mary gave him a hi-five as they all headed for the door.
 It took them about 15 minutes to get to Bonnie’s and Fliss hopped out of the jeep heading up the steps to the small villa. Frank watched her go, quite happy to appreciate her ass in the shorts she was wearing, and smiled as she turned round, Bonnie following her down the steps.
“Hi…” She greeted Frank who nodded to her as she climbed in the back of the jeep. “Hi Mary.” “Hi Miss Stevenson…” “You can call me Bonnie out of school.” The dark-haired woman chuckled.
“I know.” Mary shrugged.
 Bonnie hesitated for a moment as Frank and Fliss exchanged a look, the pair of them grinning at Mary’s blasé tone before Frank shook his head.
“Mary…” he chastised her gently.
 “What?” she looked at him.
 “Just…oh, I dunno, whatever.” he mumbled, setting the car going again. Fliss and Bonnie struck up a gentle conversation about where they were going, Frank not particularly listening to be honest. His right hand absentmindedly dropped to Fliss’ bare thigh, his thumb gently rubbing at her skin and she dropped her left hand on top of his, gently intertwining their fingers.
 He was almost disappointed when he pulled up outside Rio’s that she had to let go.
 “Have a good time.” he said as she leaned over to give him a quick kiss.
“Will do.” she smiled “See you later Mary.”
 “Yeah bye!” Mary said, hopping out of the backseat to take up the vacant front one.
 “Ice cream or hot dogs?” Frank looked at her, tearing his eyes away from Fliss as her and Bonnie headed into the bar, already knowing full well what Mary’s answer would be.
 “Dur…” she looked at him “I got me a hankering for some Cookies and Cream.” Frank snorted and with a final look at the bar set off towards The Shack.
*****
“Did he just…” Fliss looked at Bonnie, her eyes flicking from the young man in front of her to Bonnie, then back again. They’d had a few drinks at Rio’s, then headed up to another bar a few doors down and had wandered over to see what was going on round a pool table, soon finding themselves watching three younger guys as they were racking the balls up, ready to start a game of killer. By this point they’d had a fair amount of beer and shots, so Bonnie, clearly emboldened by alcohol, had cheekily quipped to the boys that Fliss would kick their arses and one of them, a tall guy with floppy sandy hair had responded with an equally cheeky little smirk and invited the “Grandma” to join them.
 “Yeah, he so did…”
“Fucking Grandma…” Fliss glared at him, snatching up a pool cue.  “I’ll have you know, kid, I’m 34…not that old…” “You got 13 years on me.” he looked at her.
 “Experience…” Bonnie nodded sagely “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” “You offering?” the lad looked at Bonnie who burst out laughing
“Sorry, we’re both taken…” “With each other…” Fliss said, causing Bonnie to snort again into her drink “We’re lesbians.” “Awesome!” the guy grinned, looking Fliss up and down before he arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m Joe by the way.” “Oh, I’m Felicia and this is Linda.” Fliss said, this time causing Bonnie to choke on her gin.
 “Nice to meet you…now…”  Joe clapped his hands and then everyone around the table looked at him as he began to write their names on the blackboard adding 3 lines after each. The game was simple, you took your shot, if you potted you kept a life, if you missed you lost one. The last person standing was the winner.
 “Money in and…”
 “Oh, hang on…” Fliss looked around “I didn’t know we were competing for money…”
“You chicken?” One of the lads looked at her.
“No, I just…you know what?” She shrugged, pulling a ten note out of her purse. “Fuck it.”
 “You can break.” One of the lads said and she shrugged. Taking up position she hit the ball, deliberately hitting the group of colours in the wrong place ensuring she didn’t pot one.  The lads all took a turn each and on her next turn she sank a ball into the pocket, then on her next go she missed again, deliberately.
 “Ok,ok…” she said, as the guys started to tease her. “You’re all so confident double up…double the money…” “Whatever…” Joe snorted, pulling another $10 note out of his pocket. Bonnie, grinned and started to play along.
 “Felicia,…is that…” “Shut up Linda I got this…” She lined up and took another shot, smashing a ball at the top straight into a pocket.  The lads all exchanged a look, shrugging and continued, the game. Fliss continued to nail shot after shot and eventually it came down to her and Joe on the last ball.
 “So if I manage this…I win?”
“Yeah…” “Ok, top right…” Joe let out a groan as the ball dropped into the pocket. Fliss straightened up, leaning on the cue smirk on her face as she turned to the boys who were all laughing and shaking their heads.
 “Here’s a tip…” she smirked, taking the money “Don’t call people grandma…pleasure doing business boys…”
 Bonnie laughed, sliding her phone back into her pocket, as Fliss looped an arm round her shoulders and steered her back to the bar.
 “Shots?”
 “Yes…” An hour later they were multiple shots down and half way through a crucial game of Fuck, Marry or Kill. 
“Ok…” Bonnie looked at Fliss “Fuck, Marry or Kill. All the Chrises…Evans, Hemsworth or Pratt…” “Oh man…” Fliss groaned “I mean…I’d probably kill Pratt. No offence but I couldn’t murder Thor or Cap…I just…no, not possible”
“So…which ones getting the one night treatment and which one is here to stay…”
“If I marry him does that mean I’m fucking him as well?” Bonnie paused “Yeah, I would assume so.”
“Ok, in that case I’d fuck Hemsworth, marry Evans.” Fliss said, shrugging. “Do you not think Frank as a bit of a look of him…in the face?”
 “I’ve not thought about it…” Bonnie shrugged, before she grinned “I think you just have a thing for guys from Boston…”
 Fliss frowned as Bonnie looked at her, her face dropping. “Shit, Fliss, sorry, I mean Frank…” Fliss couldn’t keep her face straight before she burst out laughing “I know…”
 “Bitch!” Bonnie nudged her on the arm and Fliss smirked, picking up another shot. 
********
Frank was sprawled on the sofa, channel surfing when he heard his phone go. It was a WhatsApp message from Fliss and he opened it, giving a loud laugh as he saw her holding a shot of tequila, her face screwed up in a huge fake crying gesture.
“Bonnie is making me do shots…”
“Course she is…” he replied “And did Bonnie make you hustle those boys at pool too?” “How do you know about that?” “It’s on Facebook sweetheart, Bonnie uploaded the photo of you winning. Those poor kids stood no chance” “In my defence they called me grandma…cheeky bastards.”
Frank laughed out loud as he could just see her indignant expression. “Well that’s just fucking rude. How much did you sting em for?” “Sixty…we’ve nearly spent it all
“Sixty bucks…” he mumbled to himself with a snort as he tapped his response “That’s my girl.” “Always…” she replied back, with a winking emoji and he smiled again before dropping the phone back on the coffee table as he stood up to go and grab himself another beer. Simon had already called him to say he would pick them up, which was a relief to Frank as he knew he couldn’t drag Mary out of bed at whatever time they were ready to come back, and he also wasn’t one hundred percent happy about her cabbing back alone. Stupid, he knew that, she was a grown ass woman but still. Thankfully, Simon had been on the same wavelength. With a fresh beer in his hand, he flopped back onto the sofa and resumed his channel hopping, grinning when he found that American Pie was just starting on one of the movie channels. Tossing the remote down he settled back against the cushions to watch the film, Thor jumping up besides him, his head resting against Frank’s thigh.
He had seen this film countless times, but it still reduced him to tears, and Fliss for that matter. He watched, laughing along and the end credits had just started to roll when his phone buzzed again.
“On my way to collect the girls and just a warning, Bonnie sounds smashed.” With a snort he replied “I didn’t expect anything else. Thanks Si.” He stood up and threw his empty beer bottle into the recycling, debating whether or not he wanted another. Deciding he would leave it he started to clear away the remnants of the nachos and popcorn he’d been munching on, gently re-arranged the damned scatter cushions that Fliss had made him buy, which he grudgingly had to admit were actually pretty comfy and then grabbed the recycling box and headed out to toss it into the containers, Thor hot on his heels. Just as he had finished he looked up to see Simon’s Audi pulling up at the road and he made his way over.
 “Hiiiii!” Fliss grinned at him as she got out, Thor stopping by her legs and she gave him a quick pet.
 “Hey…you have a good time?” Frank asked, as she gave a giggle and nodded.
 “Bonnie’s fallen asleep. She can’t handle her alcohol.” she snorted and Frank looked round her to see that Bonnie was, indeed, passed out in the passenger seat.
He shook his head and leaned down to speak to Simon “Thanks pal…”
“No problem.” Simon smiled, before he cast a look at Bonnie and then back to Frank “She said she was tired, not drunk…” “And I’m the Queen of England…” Frank snorted as Simon let out a huff of a laugh.
“Well hello your majesty…” Fliss hiccupped and Frank looked at her, grinning as she winked at him, her eyes glazed.
Simon shook his head and Frank rapped the top of his car twice as he pulled off and headed back up the road.
 “Frankie…” Fliss looked at him as he dropped his arm round her shoulder.
“Yes baby?” “I’m hungry.” “Are you gonna stay awake long enough if I throw a pizza in the oven?” “Hey, I’m not like Bonnie, I can handle my tequila…” “Yeah, you say that now.” he grinned “Bet you won’t be tomorrow.”
 “It’s Sunday…I can die on the sofa.” she shrugged, heading up the steps into the house. “But now I really need food.” Frank snorted, “Ok, I’ll throw one in. Go get changed.”
 “Can you undo the button at the back of my top?” Fliss asked, spinning around. Frank obliged, gently sliding the silver pin shaped tab through the hole at the back of the collar, his hands gently rubbing her bare shoulders as she dropped a kiss to her neck. “Hey, Bonnie made a good point before…” she spun back to face him, he hands smoothing over his chest.
 “And what was that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Both of us, as in me and her, have seen you naked.” she grinned, arms connecting round the back of his neck.
“Jesus Christ.” he groaned, his hands falling to her hips.
 “And you’ve seen both of us naked…but we’ve never seen each other naked…” Frank looked at her for a moment, “What?” “Me and Bonnie I mean… don’t you think that’s unfair.”
 Frank looked at her for a moment, stumped for words before he gave a snort of laughter at her face. She was grinning wickedly at him, mischief shining out of her eyes. “Yeah.” he nodded, seriously, fighting to keep his face straight.  “Really unfair. In fact, I think it’s so unfair you should do something about it.” “You’re a pervert.” she narrowed her eyes at him as he laughed and shrugged.
 “You started it…” “Technically you did when you fucked her.”
“Ouch…” Frank raised an eyebrow at her as she smirked up at him “Low blow sweetheart”
 “I’ll give you a low blow later.”she winked and Frank’s eyebrow arched further up as she pulled his head down to kiss him softly “But first I need proper food…” “Well let go o’me and I’ll make you that pizza.” he reasoned.
With a final smile she kissed him again “Love you sailor.”
“Back at ya cowgirl.” he grinned, watching as she made her way to the bedroom, reasonably steadily as well all things considered, Thor padding along behind her. With a final snort and shake of his head, knowing full well she was going to be hungover to shit the next day, he turned and headed back towards the kitchen to make her something to eat.
**** Chapter 20
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is-it-art-tho · 3 years
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Summary: A mission gone awry, too many memories, too much blood, and not enough time. Bruce races to save a son he couldn't save before.
Prologue, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8 
Bruce groaned into the towel clenched between his teeth as Alfred fished the bullet from his thigh. His gear had kept it from burrowing in very deep, but every shift of the tweezers still sent jolts of pain through his body.
“I do wish you’d reconsider the anesthetic, sir,” Alfred sighed.
Bruce was beginning to feel the same way, but it was pride now, more than anything else, that kept him from conceding. “You’re almost done, aren’t you?”
In answer, Alfred produced the deformed bullet, and held it to the light before dropping it into Bruce’s waiting hand. He turned the blood-slicked metal around in his fingers as Alfred prepped the suture kit. “I’m always shocked by how small these can be.”
“And yet so destructive.”
“Hm.” He tipped the bullet into a metal tray on the counter with a tiny clank. “Did Jason leave?”
“I believe he said he was going to bed.”
Bruce didn’t remember that at all. He must have been more out of it than he’d thought—it had taken longer than he would have liked to get back to the cave, and in the interim he’d lost a notable amount of blood. “Hey!” he yelped at the sudden prick in his leg.
“I’m saving you from your own ego,” Alfred answered, setting aside a now empty syringe with a quick raise of an eyebrow as if daring Bruce to object further. “We’ll give it a few minutes to kick in before I start on the sutures.”
Upstairs, Bruce found Jason’s room locked. He’d hoped to have a chance to say goodnight, to show Jason that he was alright, but as he lifted his hand to knock, the light under the door went out. Taking the hint, Bruce resigned himself to check in some other time.
The problem was, that chance never came.
For the rest of the week, Bruce didn’t see Jason at all. At times he’d catch a door just swinging shut, or the patter of retreating feet, but nothing more. It was like living with a ghost—a very young, very elusive ghost.
“He’s avoiding me,” he said at last one day, lowering himself stiffly into a plush seat in the den while Alfred positioned an ottoman for him to prop up his leg.
“Yes.”
“You know?”
Pulling a rag from an inner pocket, Alfred nodded. “I do.”
“And you know why.”
“Of course.”
Bruce squinted at the back of the older man’s head as he started dusting the mantel. “But you’re not going to tell me.”
“I believe it’s the sort of discussion best had face to face.”
“I would tend to agree” Bruce allowed, adjusting his weight carefully so that his leg remained still, “except that he hasn’t exactly given me that opportunity.”
“You’re a smart boy. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
And Bruce did just that. It took him all of one afternoon to realize that Jason had so easily evaded him these past few days for the same reason that Bruce had been able to maneuver around the manor at all right now—his crutch.
The plastic click as it hit the floor was like the pop of a firecracker in a home that was so often silent, and it announced Bruce’s approach long before he entered a space, giving Jason plenty of time to beat a hasty retreat.
So that evening after Bruce finished his last conference call, he closed his laptop, rose from his desk in the study, stretched, and proceeded to hobble out of the room with his crutch still propped against his chair.
His steps were still louder than usual, the limp adding a certain uneven heaviness to his stride, but in his socked feet he still managed to drift almost soundlessly from one room to the next, aided at intervals by the occasional rug.
Even so, it was not until night had fallen and the sconces in the halls had transitioned to the dim orange glow meant to imitate firelight, that Bruce had any luck. It came in the form of tiny murmur emanating from Dick’s old room, of all places.
Bruce sidled up to the cracked door and leaned against the doorframe, partially to take the weight off his bad leg, and partially because he wanted to keep listening.
It sounded like Jason was reading. Bruce had known for some time that the boy liked to read—he’d stumbled in on Jason reading aloud to himself once before—but Bruce still hadn’t managed to get Jason comfortable enough to read out loud while he was around. Even after growing so close over their past year together, there were still some walls that Bruce hadn’t quite managed to scale.
He stood like that for some time, just listening, aware that this could be read as a form of intrusion but too caught in the simple beauty of the moment to care. He loved how calm Jason’s little voice was, how earnest and unhurried. He sounded so utterly himself, devoid of any other pretense. It was only when Bruce heard the quiet thump of the book closing that he steeled himself and gently pushed open the door.
He couldn’t, in all honesty, remember the last time he’d set foot in this room, and doing so now would have been jarring enough on its own without having a dark-haired boy sitting cross legged on the bed. It was like stepping into a time machine, and for one wild moment Bruce felt his breath catch before managing to say, “Found you.”
Jason was rigid, eyes flicking from the door to the window like a caged animal before screwing his face into a scowl. “I wasn’t hiding.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Bruce braced a hand against a nearby dresser to take some of the weight off his leg. Despite not having an occupant for the better part of six years, the surface was spotless. “What are you doing in here?”
“You said I could go wherever I wanted,” he snapped, like he was daring Bruce to go back on his word.
It was something of an exaggeration, to be fair. During Jason’s first week with at the manor, Bruce had made a point to establish that this was Jason’s home as much as it was his or Alfred’s—that he should feel comfortable exploring and making it his own. It had taken a while for the kid to take that to heart—he more or less lived out of a backpack the first few months—but after a while he’d managed to settle in. It stung to see some of that old anxiety creeping back in now.
“I’m not saying you can’t be in here,” Bruce clarified. “Just curious why you chose this room in particular when yours is thirty feet away.”
Jason squirmed, staring down at his lap and gnawing on the inside of his lip. It wasn’t until the first gentle plip of a tear hitting the book in his hands that Bruce noticed that he’d begun to cry.
“Hey—” he began, wishing that he had pressed Alfred more for information, or at least a hint as to what he was walking into. He took a step forward, only to suck in a quick breath when pain exploded up his leg and his knee buckled. It was pure luck that he managed to catch himself on the bed before falling to the floor.
And with a choked grunt, Bruce heaved himself into a seated position and exhaled heavily, swallowing the string of curses he wanted to unleash. He looked up again only when he heard the broken, “I’m sorry.”
Jason’s face was beet red now, his bottom lip quivering. “I’m—I didn’t mean for you to…”
“Jay, what’s wrong?”
“Y-you got shot and it’s all m-my…” He sobbed instead of finishing the sentence.
Bruce reached for him but let his hand fall to the bed when Jason pulled his legs in toward his chest.
“If I hadn’t messed up you wouldn’t’ve had to…” His took a shaky breath. “Why’d you do that anyway?” And though Jason was still crying, there was a sudden confused rage there now, like he was a cauldron of emotions all bubbling to the surface at once. “That was so—you didn’t even—I don’t…”
And he was sobbing again even though he looked like he was trying his damnedest to fight it. Bruce gazed at him, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between them and hug him the way Alfred used to do with him when he was young—the way Bruce had learned to do with Dick.
But he decided against it. And instead waited. After a few moments, the young boy brought himself back to something resembling a state of calm. His shoulders bobbed with several deep, deliberate breaths, and at last he looked Bruce head on again, lashes dark with tears, cheeks bright red.
“Talk to me, bud.”
“Are you…gonna make me leave?” he asked quietly.
And whatever Bruce might have been expecting to come next, this certainly had not been it. “Why would I do that?”
“Because look what happened!”
“You did not shoot me, Jason.”
The boy cringed, perhaps at Bruce’s choice of words. “But you only got shot because of me.”
“I got shot because a criminal with a gun shot me.”
“Will you just stop,” he begged, dropping his head into his hands. “You know what I mean.”
“Fine. Then you’re right. If you hadn’t been there, it’s possible I wouldn’t have been shot.”
The blood drained from Jason’s face at that. So much so he looked almost like he was going to be ill. But he simply nodded at his lap, like a man accepting his fate at the gallows.
“But,” Bruce continued, “you were there, and you made a mistake, and thankfully I was there so that nothing worse happened as a result. Look at me,” he said, and Jason dragged his gaze back up.
“Mistakes happen. We learn from them; we move on. Simple as that. I don’t blame you for this, and even if I did, I’d never kick you out. I meant it when I said this is your home. For as long as you want it to be.”
Tears were spilling down Jason’s cheeks again, but this time they seemed at least a little less desperate, less anguished. Even so, he threw himself across the bed and slammed into Bruce.
“I’m still sorry! I’m so so sorry!” he cried into Bruce’s chest, skinny arms forming a vice around the man’s neck.
Bruce let out the pained breath that had hitched in his throat at the sudden blow, and gingerly returned the hug, careful not to make Jason feel trapped in it. “Don’t be. I’d do it again in a second.”
Jason lifted his face to peer up into Bruce’s. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what you do for people you love.”
Jason froze, then scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes before murmuring, “Oh. Um, okay.”
Ruffling the boy’s hair, Bruce noted, “We should get to bed,” then he hesitated, his stomach clenching as he realized that that would mean standing and walking all the way to the other end of the hall. After all the strain he’d put on his leg today, the thought alone made him ache.
“Why don’t we just stay here tonight?” Jason suggested, leaving Bruce to wonder if his reluctance had really been that evident.
“‘We?’”
“Yeah. I'll stay too. The boy had already scrambled back onto the bed and was kicking the blankets down to squirm underneath. " Y’know, in case you need help getting to the bathroom or something.”
Bruce grinned and gingerly climbed up next to him.
Once they were both settled, Jason reached for the lamp and paused. “I um…I love you too. I guess. Goodnight.”
He flicked the switch quickly, plunging the room into darkness before Bruce had a chance to react. So instead, the man simply hooked an arm around Jason's tiny frame and pulled him into his chest, smiling to himself when he felt the boy snuggle in a little closer.
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afternoonpoppy · 3 years
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Hi, long time watcher, first time asker! So I noticed that in an older work, you mentioned that Wolfram gets the hiccups any time he so much as has a drop of alcohol. So uh... I would die a very happy lady if you wrote something about Wolfram having drinks for the first time. Blushy, buzzed, cuddly, hiccupping magical boy? Uuuuughhh yes pleaaaase.
(aaaaaaa I've had this waiting in my inbox for wait too long and I'm very sorry! It took me a lot longer to get a chance to write this than I wanted to.
Not me accidentally making Allister's school and work history really relatable to my own and not me using this as an excuse to write something taking place in December because it's currently way too hot outside.)
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Allister tapped his finger against the keyboard of his laptop, staring at the screen. The math on the screen stared back at him.
"I hate this," he muttered. "Fram, I can't do math."
Wolfram, seated next to him on the couch, leaned against Allister's shoulder and looked down at the screen as well. "Did you struggle during your classes as well?"
"When I was fully conscious, yes. When I was working off of sleep deprivation, coffee, and panic on exam days, I managed pretty decent grades. Somehow."
Wolfram's expression was a mixture of disapproval and concern as he looked up at Allister.
"Hey, I don't have to do that anymore," Allister said with a shrug. Instead, he just had to suffer through the periodic online courses that fulfilled the accursed 'continuing education' his license required every couple of years. It really wasn't so bad and all the questions were multiple choice. He could always have just answered blindly until he got them correct. But Allister had been raised to be honest and to put actual effort into things. This just happened to be the sort of thing he struggled at.
He looked up at the clock that hung up on the living room wall, seeing that it read the same time as his laptop. Quarter past nine, meaning he'd been working away at these courses for the past two or so hours. Something like that, he hadn't really kept track. Allister sighed and placed his laptop onto the coffee table in front of the couch. "I think it's time for a break. Hey, a friend at work gave me a bottle of wine for the holidays. It's cheap, but why don't we have some?"
Despite it being mid-December already, Allister had to admit the house didn't give that impression. It was snowing heavily outside, sure. But inside were only a few small holly wreaths that he'd bought at a discount from the pharmacy on a whim. He hadn't actually thought to buy anything for the holiday season otherwise.
"Wine?" Wolfram seemed to think that over for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose I'll try some."
"Oh. You haven't had wine before?" Wine and other drinks certainly seemed like a staple of fantasy worlds with magic and the like. But then again, Allister wondered if he should stop making assumptions about Wolfram's home based on YA novels.
"Not in particular, no. During my time studying, my peers occasionally invited me to join them for an evening of drinks during our own holidays or when there was something to celebrate. I preferred to stay to my studies, though."
Allister stood up from the couch, heading towards the kitchen. "So magic college had the kids who wanted to party and the ones who panicked for good exam scores. Sounds like normal boring college."
Wolfram followed, leaning against the kitchen counter with a playful smirk directed at Allister. "Who said I panicked over my exams?"
"Well, if you're such a genius," Allister said, reaching up into one of the cupboards for the wine bottle and a pair of glasses, "I may just have you do my math for me. I bet you'll love dilutions." He had to admit, he felt fancy pulling out the wine glasses. It wasn't every day Allister had an excuse for that.
Pouring some of the red wine into each of the glasses, Allister handed one off to Wolfram.
"Dilutions..." Wolfram stared into the wine as he muttered the word. "Mathematics regarding multiple liquids? I do believe we covered something of the sort in alchemical basics." He paused and took a tentative sip of the wine, then stared at it more as if studying it.
"What do you think?"
"I'm not certain how I feel about the taste."
"Well, that's fair. I doubt cheap gift wine is the best introduction to the stuff."
"I suppose it's fine eno - hic - ohh..." Wolfram grimaced with the sudden case of hiccups beginning.
"Oh geez, that didn't take much, huh?" Allister offered a sympathetic smile.
Wolfram stared at the glass of wine, eyes narrowing at it. "Appare - hic - apparently so... I'm not sold on the - hic - idea of alcohol thus far, Alli - hic - Allister."
Allister gently patted his poor, hiccuping boyfriend on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Fram. It's not everyone's thing anyway." He shrugged.
"Mm-hm... Is it - hic - really all that enj - hic - enjoyable to be intoxicated?"
"Hm... I mean, I guess?" Given that Allister hardly drank much at once, that wasn't the easiest question for him to answer, but he liked it well enough in the right context. Seeing that Wolfram was still studying the wine with something of a skeptical look, Allister offered, "You don't have to drink it if you don't like it, it's fine. Like I said, it's cheap stuff too."
It was Wolfram's turn to answer with a shrug as he said, "It's f - hic - fine. I'm not completely aga - hic - against the taste, so I'll see what I think of it."
"Oh." Allister was, admittedly, surprised. Wolfram wasn't completely disdainful of something that had so easily given him hiccups? That was unusual. "Well, how about we find something to watch for a bit before I get back to work?"
---
A glass of wine and some television later, Allister realized that getting back to work was... difficult. For one thing, he hadn't finished that math from earlier and was now facing down the dreaded dilutions. The alcohol may not have been helping with that. Then there was also the matter of Wolfram.
"Alli - hic - ster." Wolfram whined, draping his arms over Allister's shoulders. "Is the math - hic - done yet?" He leaned forward, resting his head against the back of Allister's neck.
"Still struggling with that part," Allister said. His attention drifted to the empty wine glass that Wolfram had left on the table. Was it a coincidence that Allister's sweetheart, now slightly red-faced in the cheeks, was acting clingier than usual? No, certainly not.
"Well, hurry up," Wolfram mumbled into the collar of Allister's shirt. "Finish up s - hic - so you can cuddle me."
Allister smiled, reaching a hand up to gently squeeze Wolfram's own. "I'd love to, Fram, but it's a bit difficult with you hanging onto me like that."
Wolfram pointed at the laptop. "Then gi - hic - ive it to me. I'll do it, let me - hic - see it."
"You know, I wasn't serious about having you do the dilutions, Fram."
"Allister, I'm - hic - smart, remember? Numbers are numbers even in a different world, I can - hic - do it." Without bothering to wait for an answer, Wolfram sat up and promptly stretched out to lay on his side across Allister's lap, reaching over to the laptop on the table.
"Fram, what are you -"
"It's fine, Allister, it's fi - hic - ine. I can do math," Wolfram muttered indignantly.
Allister sighed and relented, waiting as Wolfram stared at the text on the screen. Eventually, Wolfram rolled onto his back to look up at Allister. "How do I use this?"
"You know, Fram," Allister said, brushing a stray hair out of Wolfram's face, "I have to do a course on pharmacy law after this one too. I don't think you'll be able to help with that one so you're still going to be waiting a bit."
Wolfram pouted and crossed his arms. "Allister."
"What is it?"
"N - hic - o," Wolfram said, the single-syllable word mangled by his hiccups.
"You want to try that again?"
"I'm telling you no, Allister. You're do - hic - ing what you tell me not to do. You're going to ove - hic - overwork yourself, and I refuse to let you."
"I get it," Allister said, "but I have to do this stuff for work, Fra -"
Wolfram put a hand up over Allister's mouth. "Shush. You have ple - hic - nty of time to do this work, right? So I'll make you do more tomo - hic - tomorrow."
"Tomorrow, huh?" Allister mumbled, pushing Wolfram's hand aside with a hand of his own, fingers intertwining. Tomorrow sounded like a better time for the dilutions. "So that means cuddling now?"
Wolfram nodded. "I dema - hic - demand cuddles, Alli." Still lying on his back, he held out his arms up towards Allister expectantly.
Allister broke into a smile at that sight. "You're playful when you're tipsy, huh?"
"I never said I was - hic - tipsy. Oh, wait." Apparently having a sudden idea, Wolfram abruptly sat up. He brought his hands closer together and began to recite a spell - though, with his hiccups interrupting him, it took three or four times before he was able to successfully do so. Once he managed the spell without interruption, one of the small animal-like spirits formed in his hands and Wolfram smiled at Allister. "More warmth to sit with us."
"If we doze off, it's going to run off eventually and start causing trouble, won't it?"
Wolfram thought, looking back down at the currently rabbit-esque spirit. He shrugged and said in a dismissive tone, "It's fine, it's fi - hic - fine."
"Well, if it starts knocking stuff over later, you're the one who has to clean it up. Get over here, then," Allister said before leaning towards Wolfram and pulling him down to lie down on the couch.
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