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dewykth · 4 years

Text

—CYBΞRSΞX (m)

pairing. jeon jungkook | female reader | park jimin genre & au's. smut, humor / camgirl!reader, camboy!pjm, rich boy!jjk word count. 10.213 warnings. please read ! multiple explicit sexual scenes, masturbation (f + m), porn, sexting, nudes, jk in a thong (bc yes), ice play, sex toys, face sitting, sub!jk, (soft) dom!reader, sub!jm, [18+] note. AHH it's finally here!! thank you to everyone who liked the teasers, i hope you'll enjoy this baby! this went thru a lot of editing, rewriting, and deleting, but i’m finally happy w it !! feedback is vv much appreciated <3!! note two. and yes, i did take the opportunity to write subby bts, bc i can, and we need more of it. thats it. sub jk rights!

—shoutout to vira ( @periminkle ) for beta reading and making me laugh w her reactions <3 ily

[teaser #1] ♡ [teaser #2] ♡ [playlist]

synopsis. there are three rules you set for yourself when you signed up for cybersex.com. one, separate work from your personal life. two, do not get involved with any cyberboy, no matter how stupidly & unfairly gorgeous he is. and three, do not, under any circumstance, fall for a client. they're very simple, and very easy to follow. so why are you about to get in bed with park jimin, cyberboy extraordinaire, in order to spite a loyal client of yours?

[ :: LOADING... my strange addiction :: ]

The hot pink log-in screen of cybersex.com is a sight Jungkook is embarrassingly familiar with. Frankly, he’s afraid to admit how many times he’s logged on this past week. It takes him no longer than a minute for him to input his account information, quickly searching for the sole reason he’s still on this site at all.

Jungkook glances at the time. He might still be able to catch a bit of your show tonight. Even if it were only for a few moments, it’d be enough for him until he actually got to talk to you tomorrow. Hopefully.

Jungkook knows better than to think he could ever get enough though.

● LIVE!: sittin here undressed...

By Sweetheart666

83,938 viewing now

The screen goes black for a second before you appear, sitting on your bed with a pink pillow between your thighs. Jungkook sucks in a breath, feeling his dick twitch in his sweatpants. Your hands are on your chest, playing with your nipples and whining softly. Your sounds spur Jungkook further, his eyes glued to the completely fucked out expression on your face and (too soon) his dick is fully erect. He doesn't know how you're able to get him like this so quickly every time.

There's sensual music in the background, but Jungkook only focuses on the pretty sounds falling from your lips. Jungkook begins to palm himself through his sweats just as you tease your fingers over the band of the mesh shorts barely leaving anything to the imagination. Jungkook's skin is hot to the touch, and he can feel the sweat building on his forehead.

“Oh? Do you guys want this off?”

Comments fill the screen quickly, all fervently voting in favor for removing the sheer white fabric. But this isn’t Jungkook’s first time, and he knows better than anyone you like for them to beg.

“Show me how bad you want me to take it off.”

v_steponmepls_ tipped 2,000 hearts!

secretly1ntoXhibitionism tipped 5,000 hearts!

bbybun14 tipped 1,600 hearts!

“Aww, is that all? Guess you don’t want it that much...”

Your fingers leave the band of your shorts, choosing to fiddle with the heart chain around your neck as you wait. Jungkook chuckles, knowing that the comments were all probably whining at your teasing. But as previously mentioned, Jungkook was a bit more experienced in your realm. His fingers dance on the keyboard of his computer.

nj_94 tipped 10,000 hearts!

Tiny red hearts fill Jungkook’s screen as he smirks, lying back against his headboard. He sees the way your eyes flash, before you’re smirking at the camera, as if you could see how desperate Jungkook was.

“So needy, aren’t you, nj_94? Alright, I guess I can give you a little something then...”

Jungkook suddenly feels warmth on his face, and he realizes he’s fucking blushing at your attention. There was something about you acknowledging him in front of almost ninety-thousand people that made his chest swell with pride. He’s so fucking whipped, a thought that crosses his mind momentarily before his focus is back on you. When you finally remove your flimsy shorts, Jungkook moans loudly at the sight of your dripping core. Oh, how he wishes he could stuff his face in between your thighs.

He pulls his sweatpants to his thighs, letting his dick spring free. Jungkook gathers his saliva, spitting into his hands before leisurely stroking his shaft. You play with your clit, moaning softly. He can see your juices dripping onto your mattress, leaving a mess. Jungkook briefly wonders how you would taste on his tongue.

nj_94 tipped 15,000 hearts!

“Wow, straight to the point huh?”

When you slip two fingers into yourself and whine, Jungkook’s strokes begin to speed up. He moans, uncaring of the fact that it was past midnight. Jungkook is mesmerized by the sight of your small fingers pumping in and out of your entrance. Your moans begin to grow louder, and he can tell by the way your hips are grinding along your hands that you're getting closer to your release. Jungkook can feel his coming as well, his strokes becoming sloppier.

“Fuck, I wish those were m-my hands instead of yours,” he mutters, lost in the way you’re making him feel. You moan louder, almost as if you could hear the words coming from Jungkook's mouth. It's impossible, but Jungkook lets his imagination wander.

“You’d probably make me beg for it, w-wouldn’t you?” he chuckles breathlessly as you grind down on your hand. “I-i don’t m-mind, though,” Jungkook is sure he’s mumbling nonsense, yet he can’t find it in himself to care when he’s so close to his release. “I l-love begging for you.” His voice sounds echoey, but in his lust-ridden mind, he can’t make sense of anything else other than you, you, you. Jungkook watches through lidded eyes as your hips stutter. You thumb your clit a couple more times before a loud whine rips through you, and you're reaching your climax.

Jungkook keeps his gaze on you, stroking himself a few more times until he too is spilling his seed all over his abs with a low groan. He’s left breathing harshly, lying on his back as he stares at the ceiling in a post-orgasmic haze. It takes a couple of minutes for Jungkook to fully recover before he looks at his computer screen again, realizing your live has abruptly ended. He sighs wistfully before closing his laptop shut.

Until tomorrow.

[ :: LOGGING IN... computer (almost, but not really) luv ::]

[ENDED]: feelin a bit bratty tonight?

By Sweetheart666

106,729 viewers / 202,728 hearts

jacker82: sailor moon cosplay plssssss?

i_swallow_: feet?

James Miller Jr.: would love to take you to dinner some time!

_tittystan_: OH MY GODDD PLSS PUNCH ME IN THE FACE T-T

catdaddyXoX: ur so hawt yumm XD

Scrolling through the comments section and reading them out loud always made you giggle to yourself. They were either always some absurd comment or a simple compliment thrown your way. And you’d be lying if you said doing these videos didn’t make your confidence go up tenfold. During the past few months you’ve been a Cybergirl, you’ve been steadily growing a following. Your past three videos have done exceedingly well, but it was always your lives that got the most attention.

It started as an easy way to get money to pay your bills. A lonely night in your apartment spent drinking cheap wine and crying about how pathetic you felt, because you couldn’t keep a job to save your life, led you to the hot pink sign up screen of Cybersex.com. You told yourself it would be just for you to get yourself back on your feet, but as you began to post more and see the numbers in your bank account go to the triple digits, you grew a penchant for the website.

All it took was a bit more effort into your videos for it to become your main source of income. You’ve grown much more comfortable around the camera than when you first started, and with that you've also been able to claim your place on the Hot200. It was undemanding work, for the most part. As expected, there was heavy competition between the cybergirls, which only worked to fuel your desire to chart. You had to come up with new and creative ideas for every video, and if you were being honest, you’d say you were pretty fucking good at what you do. And of course, there was no way for you to get fired.

To put it in simpler words, you loved being a cybergirl.

But, the best part, if you had to choose, were the personal clients. The ones who would pay an additional price in order to be able to talk to you directly, maybe even get a private show or pictures if they gave a bit more. You had yet to give a private show to anyone, which was pretty expensive depending on the popularity of the cybergirl. Not that you were complaining, there were enough message requests to keep you pleased and your pockets full.

An alert appears on the corner of your screen, signaling the low battery of your computer. After plugging it in you opt to clean your cam set-up, putting away your toys and equipment. You check the time on your phone, noting that you had time to shower before your upcoming session. One that you had been waiting impatiently for all week.

When you emerge from your bathroom, you pick up your phone again, scrolling through the messages until your eyes fall on one in particular. You look at the time. Punctual as always.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜᴇʏ ;)

Him.

Nj_94 was your most loyal client, but he only messaged you twice a week. It’d been almost four months since you first started talking to him and you’d be lying if you said his messages didn’t leave you feeling giddy inside. Granted, you’ve never met him, nor do you even know what he looks like, but it didn’t exactly matter to you. Getting to know him over the soft pink message threads of the Cybersex app, you've definitely grown a soft spot for him. There was something about his cute, albeit awkward, self that sometimes had your mind brewing up visions of him beneath you, quivering and begging and-

You digress.

Your back hits the soft silk sheets of your bed, deciding to make him wait a bit. If there was anything you loved more than your little sessions with nj_94, it was teasing him.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜɪ…

There’s not a moment for you to put down your phone before there’s a chain of pings! echoing through the quietness of your bedroom.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜɪ

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴜ

[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏ?

[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ᴠᴇʀʏ.

ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ…

The text appears and reappears several times before his message finally graces your screen.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ... ᴍɪss ᴍᴇ?

Of course you did, but you’d never tell him that. You sit up on your headboard, playing with the frill of your shorts for a few moments before typing out your message.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴍᴍ... ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅs

[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴜ?

On the other side of the screen lays Jungkook on his bed, eyes wide as he stares at your message. He knew you were going to ask him about it, but he didn’t think you’d do it right away. Of course he listened. And he enjoyed it an embarrassing amount, something he’d never be able to admit to anyone except you. Shaky fingers tap on the screen of his phone, typing out his response before he clicks the send button.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs ɪ ᴅɪᴅ

[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴏᴡ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ʙᴀʙʏ?

His heart quickens when he reads the sentence. It wasn’t uncommon for you to call him pet names, but it usually meant he was in for the night. And probably on your good side.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɢᴏᴏᴅ. ʀʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ ᴄᴍᴏɴ ʙᴀʙʏ... ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ?

[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɴᴏ ɪ

[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ... ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴛᴡɪᴄᴇ

A blush appears on Jungkook’s cheeks almost immediately after he types out the message. No matter how many times he’s texted you the most indecent and lewd words, he’ll probably never be able to fight the shyness that accompanies it.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ?

[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ… ᴀʀᴇ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ɪᴛ?

Jungkook glances down at his bare thighs, where the thin fabric wraps around his hips. He gulps.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟺.ᴊᴘɢ]

There’s a moment where your mouth hangs open, watering at the sight of his salacious thighs. But, the thin black lace barely covering his prominent bulge is what makes you squeeze your thighs together. If his texts weren’t enough to show how desperate he was for you, this unexpected picture definitely got the point across. God, he was such a—

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.]sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜ ᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ

Jungkook's heart throbs, or is that his dick? Either way, it's almost humiliating how easy it is for you to rile him up from a few words. You just had that effect on him. And, god, did he fucking love it.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴜᴍ

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴜ

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss :(

This was... new. Usually, you only allow him to be the one receiving all the attention and pleasure. Despite the waning professionalism in your relationship, this was still your job. It was only after your sessions that you'd grant yourself to come to the fresh memory of his whining and pleading. But who were you to deny him?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ...ᴏᴋ ʙᴀʙʏ

[𝟷:𝟻𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʀ ᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʏᴇᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ 𝟺 ᴜ…

His fingers itch, his cock aching for any form of relief, but he knows better than to do anything without your permission. Besides, you make it all worth it in the end.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ 𝟸 ᴛɪᴍᴇs 𝟸ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡɴᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴇᴅʏ, ʜᴜʜ?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʏᴋ ᴡʜᴀᴛ 𝟸 ᴅᴏ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ

nj_94 has sent 3,000 hearts!

[𝟷:𝟻𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇᴇᴇ

You laugh breathlessly despite the wetness building between your thighs at his begging. Your hand slips behind your back, unclipping your bralette before slipping it off and throwing it somewhere in your room. You angle the camera so that only the top half of your body shows before snapping the picture.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟻.ᴊᴘɢ]

Fuck. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of the image of your bare chest. Your hand sits right above the band of your thin panties, before the image cuts off. There’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you bite your lip, staring straight into the camera. Jungkook can’t help it, he whines. His hand is pulling the black panties down to his mid thigh before he can think. He sighs at the feeling, grabbing the strawberry lube -your favorite- from his nightstand drawer and squirting a generous amount into his palm. He begins to leisurely stroke his member before a ping! from his phone interrupts him.

[𝟸:𝟶𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ?

[𝟸:𝟶𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀs. ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴɢ ʜᴏᴛᴛ

[𝟸:𝟶𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪsʜ ɪ ᴡs ᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡ ᴜ

You wish so too. To have him begging to touch you, to feel you, right in front of you? Fuck, it definitely did things to you. He did things to you. And you wanted to show him.

[𝟸:𝟶𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟼.ᴍᴘ𝟺]

Jungkook’s hand falters when he sees you’ve sent a video. Not that it was uncommon, but usually he’d have to send hearts first. But, he decides not to question it, instead choosing to click on the video. It takes a few moments to load, but once the first few seconds start playing, Jungkook’s mouth drops.

Your fingers are in your mouth, sucking and lathering them in spit before they trail down your body and under the fabric of your thin panties. Jungkook doesn’t need to see it, no, he can hear how wet you are. The sounds of your soft moaning and your fingers entering you drive Jungkook utterly wild, and he finds himself whimpering. He can’t stop watching the way you bite your lips and giggle, as if you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Of course you knew.

Jungkook replays the video, deliberate strokes of his hand sounding through the quietness of his room. “F-fuck, ____... what are you doing to me...” There’s another ping! that seems to reverberate in his head, and Jungkook slows his movements before he can get too lost in the endless ocean of his thoughts.

[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴘᴇᴇᴄʜʟᴇss, ʙᴀʙʏ?

[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʀ ʀ ᴜ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜʀsᴇʟғ ʙᴄ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ?

[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ɪ ᴄɴᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ

[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛғʟʟ

[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ sɴᴇᴅ sᴍᴛʜɴ ɴ ʙᴀᴄᴋ?

[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏғᴄ ʙᴀʙʏ

A few minutes pass before your phone finally vibrates, your screen lighting up with a new message.

[𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟼𝟽.ᴍᴘ𝟺]

You hesitate for a bit, biting your lip before you press play. The sound of his hand fervently sliding up and down his shaft fills your ears, soft whines of pleasure slipping through the speaker of your phone. If you weren't turned on before, you definitely were now. Your hand travels down your body, slipping underneath your panties. Gasping at the pool of your wetness, your hand moves along your clit expertly as his hand slides along the mess of precum and red lube. Strawberry.

Right as the video is reaching the last ten seconds, your hands speed up against your heat. Your thoughts are clouded, lidded eyes staring at nj_94’s huge cock. Right before the video ends, you hear his voice, muttering nonsense, but that isn’t what makes you cease your motions. “F-fuck, ____, see what you do to me.”

It’s clear he doesn't realize he’s said your name, your actual name. But that's not even the weirdest part. No, because the voice sounds too familiar to you. Similar to the voice of— ping!

nj_94 has sent 5,000 hearts!

[𝟸:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғᴄᴋ ɪᴍ ᴄʟᴏᴇs

[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʟᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴜᴍᴍ

[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss?

[𝟸:𝟹𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟽.ᴊᴘᴇɢ]

The still image of your drenching core is enough for Jungkook to spill his seed all over his hand. His hand slows as he pumps the last spurts of his cum, chest heaving harshly. He grabs a couple of tissues from his nightstand, using it to clean the cum off of his fingers.

[𝟸:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

[𝟸:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏғ sᴇʀᴠɪᴄᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ

[𝟸:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼:,, ɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ

sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...

Jungkook’s head is spinning, but he doesn’t think it’s from the breathtaking orgasm you had just given him. He’s on edge as he watches the little typing bubble appear and disappear multiple times. What could you possibly be ‘thinking’ about? Were you thinking of ending this whole thing? Oh god, were you thinking of—!

[𝟸:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀᴍ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ?

No, this was definitely much worse. Jungkook never would have guessed how far this would have gone when he first impulsively texted you all those months ago. After the first two months, when the sexting had turned into a regular thing, he knew you’d eventually grow curious. He knew you’d eventually ask. And, god, does he wish he had the fucking balls to tell you.

Jungkook would be lying if he said this hadn’t turned into something more than just sexting. At least for him. He wasn’t really sure how you felt about him, though sometimes the things you’d say when you were coaxing him into an orgasm would go to his head, and he’d think, if only for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, you felt something more as well.

But after he’d come down from his high, and come down back to reality, Jungkook knew it was just wishful thinking. How could you have feelings for someone you’ve never met, never seen? Even if you did, it wasn’t Jungkook you felt something for, it was nj_94. Which, yes technically was him, but not to you. You probably thought it was, well, literally anyone except your nerd of a neighbor who was too much of a coward to tell you who he was. What the hell would he even tell you? How the hell would he tell you?

“Oh, hey, _____! You know that guy you’ve been sexting consistently through Cybersex for four months? Well, surprise! It’s been me the entire goddamn time!”

SLAP!

Yet, even in the safety of his imagination, you're fuming, ears blowing steam as you slam the door in his face. A demand to never speak to you again, and Jungkook sinks into the floor from shame and embarrassment. Sometimes, you’d laugh in his face, disbelieving, or worse, unwanting of him.

Jungkook’s mind was a weird and ghastly place.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at your message, but he sees you’ve gone offline, probably tired of waiting for him to reply. His thumbs hover over the keypad of his phone, but he can’t bring himself to say anything, not even to jokingly brush you off. There have been many moments before where you’ve brought up what nj_94 looks like, but somehow this time it feels different. Jungkook can’t pin down the feeling coiling in his stomach, so he does what he does best.

He ignores it.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The blaring sound of your alarm fills the once quiet room, ripping you away from your peaceful slumber, and you groan loudly into your pillow. Your hand fumbles around your nightstand as you try to blindly reach for your phone. Once you're able to turn off your alarm, you hear the pounding at the door. You lift your head, able to make out muffled calls of your name through your clouded mind. Who the fuck is trying to knock the door down so early in the morning?

You choose to bury your face in your pillows again, shifting the duvet over your head in order to block out the noise. Reaching for your phone once again, your eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright screen, and- oh, shit, you’re running late... again.

You throw the covers off your body, almost falling over the heap of clothes strewn over your bedroom floor. The knocking continues, and you rush out of your room, throwing the door open without sparing another glance at who’s standing at your doorstep.

“Give me five minutes!”

The figure chuckles, entering the threshold as you run back to your bedroom to throw on something presentable. “Rough night?” he says, voice sounding muffled through the closed door.

You laugh breathlessly, “More like rough weekend.” but you’re sure your voice is too quiet to be heard. Hastily brushing your teeth, you attempt to slip on your sweatpants at once. Following your successful multitasking and finishing your morning routine in record time, you emerge from your bedroom. Grabbing your keys and book bag from the living room, you pad over to the shoe rack near the front door.

“Wow, you should start waking up late every day if you’re gonna get ready this fast.”

You roll your eyes turning to shoot Jungkook a glare, “Don’t worry, I’ll start taking my time now just for you.”

Not waiting for a response, you open the door, gesturing for him to exit. He curtsies before he begins walking down the hallway to the elevator, you following closely behind.

-----

There’s something different about you today.

You’re quiet, gazing into the distance as you both walk to the coffee shop a few blocks away from your university campus. He tries to think nothing of it, chalking it up to the sleepiness still wearing off from the early morning. But usually you’d be pointing out random things on the street, or teasing Jungkook endlessly. And maybe he might miss the (albeit playful and meaningless) flirting, but he’d never say that out loud.

You reach the shop without a word, the sound of the city waking up and Jungkook’s boots hitting the pavement the only source of noise between you. When you reach the cashier, you’re still dazed, and if Jungkook didn’t know your order by heart (something he also would never admit), you’d probably forgo ordering anything.

Despite noticing all the things off today, Jungkook decides to not ask. He really doesn't want to push you to talk. And you’d come to him if there was something really bothering you.

At least that’s what Jungkook tried to do, but when you continue to be off in your own world, unknowingly ignoring his attempts at making conversation, he decides fuck that. And even though Jungkook would deny, again, if anyone would ever ask him, he does care deeply for you. Anything bothering you, bothers him.

“Alright, what’s up?” he asks, trying to seem casual despite rethinking the words a thousand times in his head.

“Huh?” you blink, coming back down to earth. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook sends you a disbelieving look, “You know what I mean. I asked you three times if you wanted a piece of my cheese danish, and you haven’t said a word since we left your apartment. So, what’s up?”

You duck your head, suddenly feeling bashful for ignoring Jungkook, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about... him since the weird conversation you had on Friday. And to make matters worse, the fucker has been ignoring you. The only times he has bothered to text, was only to cancel your Saturday night appointment, despite the money already being transferred to your account. And when you tried to send it back, he declined the request without a word. Everything that he does leaves you more confused than before, and now you’re left to deal with these gross feelings building inside you.

Because even if you’re trying to ignore it, and him, as much as possible, your stupid brain can’t help thinking about all the sessions you’ve had with him, and all the mundane conversations that crossed the strictly business and purely sexual line. It was all too much, and you wished you could make sense of at least some of it, but now he won’t even talk to you. You can’t help thinking that maybe you had imagined it all. That maybe you had somehow convinced yourself that he felt the same way you did.

Or maybe he felt that it was becoming too much, too intimate, too serious, and wanted nothing to do with it. But even then, why couldn’t he have just told you that? Why did he have to fucking ghost you, for crying out loud? Why did-!

“Hello? Earth to _____!”

You blink, eyes focusing on the hand waving in front of your face. “Fuck, did I do it again?”

Jungkook chuckles, and you try to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. What the hell is up with you today? “Seriously, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” you hesitate, because what would you even call this? The whole situation is weird if you were to explain it to, well, literally anyone else. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook thinks you work as a coder from home. “Boy problems.”

Jungkook clears his throat, averting his eyes and choosing to focus on the grey concrete beneath him. “O-oh,” and as much as he doesn’t want to know about the other guy who’s got you so in your head, he still asks, “do you want to talk about it?”

You’re quiet for a moment, and Jungkook thinks that you might not say anything, that you might brush him off. He almost sighs in relief but then-

“Well, there’s this guy, and well- uhm,” you stare at the iced coffee in your hands, contemplating how to word your thoughts without actually spilling your secret. “We’ve never actually met, or anything, but we’ve been talking through this,” you pause again, glancing at Jungkook, whose jaw is clenched, “dating site. And well, we’ve been talking for about four months...”

Jungkook almost trips over his own feet whipping his head to look at you. You’re still talking, but now his brain is hazy and he can't think straight. No... you couldn’t... you’re not... you can’t be... you can’t be talking about... him, right? There’s... there’s no way. It has to be someone else. It has to be a coincidence that almost everything you’re saying sounds exactly like your relationship with... nj_94. Right? Right, of course, you’re definitely talking about someone else and it’s all in his-!

“...and when i asked, if uh, i’d ever get to see him, he kinda ghosted me, so, yeah.” you laugh nervously, noting the way Jungkook hasn't said a thing.

But, Jungkook is more sure than ever that you’re talking about him, well, not him, but nj_94, which technically- ok, you know what? It doesn’t matter because he feels nauseous and he’s sure he’s about to empty the contents of his stomach right here on campus in front of everyone. And now you’re looking at him with worry in those beautiful gleaming eyes of yours and oh, god, he needs to do something, anything to make this go away. Jungkook opens the lid of his coffee, taking a huge gulp without thinking anything of it because- OH FUCK!

IT’S FUCKING SCALDING. OH, GOD HIS TONGUE IS FUCKING BURNING AND HE’S SPUTTERING AND SPITTING THE COFFEE BACK OUT AND FUCK, IS HE SWEATING? IT’S SIXTY FUCKING DEGREES OUTSIDE AND HE’S SWEATING? NOW YOU’RE LOOKING AT HIM WITH CONCERN IN THOSE BEAUTIFUL GLEAMING EYES- wait, isn’t that the exact reason he’s stuck in this situation? God, what were you doing to him?

Jungkook barely registers the fact that you’ve both stopped walking, and are standing underneath one of the big trees on your campus. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he realizes through his mess of a mind that it's yours.

“Jesus, Kook, are you okay?”

“Mhm,” he says, like a liar because no, he’s not okay, far from it actually. Because you’re fucking talking about him, and you don’t even fucking know it. God, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel like this. Truthfully, Jungkook doesn't exactly know why he’s been ignoring you. It was in a panic that he had cancelled your next session, afraid to talk to you after the sucker move he had pulled Friday night.

And he knows, he fucking knows that avoiding it is just making it worse. And that it won't go away, no matter how much he tries to ignore it. Jungkook is at a loss for what to do, and it's not like he could go to his friends to ask for help. This whole situation was too fucking absurd to even bother explaining. But if there was one good thing coming from this, it was learning that you did actually care about him, or...erm...nj_94, at the very least. Sure, there were almost a million other things Jungkook had to figure out, but hey, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.

Jungkook unconsciously pouts, willing the tingling on his tongue to go away. He’s too busy glaring at the offending coffee in his hands to notice the way your worried stare turns into one of suspicion, if only for a moment.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”

His head whips up at that, eyes widening at your words. Innocent and insignificant, yet Jungkook can’t help but think of the videos where you use the same tone. He’s sure that he’s completely forgotten the scalding burn on his tongue now. And it’s then that he sees it. The amused glint in your eyes, and the way your lips are pursed, seemingly holding back a laugh.

You’re making fun of him.

Jungkook scoffs, pushing your hand off his shoulder. You offer him the ice in your now empty cup, but he only rolls his eyes. You both toss your drinks in the can next to you, continuing the walk to your morning class.

And he tries to act upset, he really does, but when he sees you start to laugh, he can’t help but do the same.

[ :: ENTER... the (cyber)boy of your dreams ::]

There’s a familiar ping! that sounds through your bedroom, making you run out of your bathroom, toothbrush hanging from your mouth as you reach for your charging phone.

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟸 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴀʏ ʜᴏᴡ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪᴅ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ?

Trying to ignore the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, you roll your eyes at his compliment. Typing out a response, you hit send before chucking your phone across your bed, huffing as you plop onto your mattress.

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴏ ᴜ sᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɢɪʀʟ ɪɴ ᴜʀ ɪɴʙᴏx?

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀʙʏ ;)

Jimin was a bit of an icon in the cybersex world, adored by fans and other cyberboys alike. His videos centered on a more… demanding persona, which is what got him his mass audience. It obviously worked in his favor, if a peek at his account was anything to go by.

ParkJimin

@mincams

1,500,000 monthly viewers / 10,183,209 hearts

Most Popular: be a good girl, would you? / 7,937,937 views

And while a lot of cyberboys faked their personalities on screen, everything Jimin did had a sense of genuinity, and there was no doubt he was just as dominating in real life as he was on camera. You’d know better than anyone.

Jimin had begun texting you a few months ago, right when your videos had begun charting. It definitely took you by surprise, having only been messaged by two other cybergirls asking where you had bought your lingerie. And seeing his immense following only made you question it even more. What did he want to do with you when there were so many others who were more... on his level?

Yet, despite you sometimes disregarding his messages due to the suspicion you had in the early weeks, there would still be a text from him every Wednesday without a doubt. This obviously led to you, eventually, texting him back, if only to satiate your curiosity. And well, he was definitely... intriguing, considering the fact that you’ve been speaking ever since. Though, your ‘acquaintance’ with him has definitely crossed that line of playful flirtiness and frisky texting.

Cyber fuck buddies was probably the best way to describe your relationship with Jimin now. One lonely, frustrating late night had led to you and Jimin exchanging some very lewd thoughts with each other. And yes, although you had broken your second rule of being a cybergirl, the intense orgasm Jimin had given you was enough for you to... tweak them a bit.

See, at the beginning of your Cybersex journey, you had set rules for yourself, if only to make your job easier. And rule number two was to never get involved with a cyberboy. And, really, you were doing a great job at ignoring them completely, then Jimin had managed to slip his way into your life. But could you really blame yourself? Jimin was fucking hot, and you had your own desires that needed to be satisfied every once in a while. When he had just offered himself up, what were you supposed to do? Say no? It’s not like you were fucking him in real life anyway.

So, you changed that rule to never fuck a cyberboy. Harder to actually break and straight to the point. And yet... here you were, thinking of bringing none other than Park fucking Cyberboy Jimin onto your next show.

And you know, it sounds fucking stupid because what the hell? Did you not go over your own rules just now? But Jimin was the only one that could (possibly) help you in this very... unique situation. And, no, you were not gonna fuck him. Despite how much you’ve bent your rules, you were still going to try to respect them. Besides, you had other plans for him.

Like you mentioned before, Jimin was as demanding in his videos as in real life. Yet, there he’d be, in your direct messages, damn near begging for an opportunity to film a video with you.

Who would have thought that Park Jimin, the one who has everyone begging for him, actually wanted to be on his knees for you.

And at first it was easy to brush it off as a meaningless joke. Hell, you’d even respond back with a quip of your own. But when he actually explained himself, you had to say, all his points were very convincing. Something about gaining a bigger platform and a more ‘enlightening’ sexual experience. But, you had never brought anyone on your channel, and honestly, you had brushed the idea of a ‘partnership’ with him to the back of your mind. That is, until now.

Now, you needed him more than ever, for your own reasons.

[𝟸:𝟸𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴜʀ ᴏғғᴇʀ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ... ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ?

[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀsᴋ

[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs

[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ’ʟʟ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ.

[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴs.

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸4 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sʀs?

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴜʀᴇ...ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɴ ᴡᴇ ғɪʟᴍ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴀᴛ.

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴇᴀʟ?

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ʏᴏᴜ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʙᴀʀɢᴀɪɴ, sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.

ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴅᴇᴀʟ.

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴀᴛᴜʀᴅᴀʏ ;)

The buzz of quiet conversation fills the room, accompanied by the sounds of the documentary playing on the projector that no one could be seen paying attention to. Even the professor seemed to be falling asleep grading papers near the corner of the room. There were excited whispers of a party later tonight, but you, you were ecstatic for reasons completely different.

“Pssst! Jungkook!”

Jungkook lifts his head, looking around before he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and almost jumps back in shock from how close your face is to his.

“Uh, yeah?” he whispers back.

There’s something in your smile that throws him off, demure and something else he can’t seem to figure out. Maybe Jungkook pays too much attention to anything you do. Fuck, you're driving him crazy just sitting there.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Uh, no... why?” he stutters, and maybe it’s just the dark lighting in the room, but he swears he sees your eyes gleam.

“No reason,” you respond, leaning your head against your hand. Your other hand comes to toy with the necklace sitting around your neck. “But I’d advise you to stay home this weekend.”

His eyes widen. What the fuck? Did Jungkook hear you correctly? Or is he starting to hear things too? What the hell are you doing to him? “W-what?”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard about the... show,” you make sure to look right into his eyes, “playing tomorrow night. I heard it was going to be really special.”

Jungkook blinks multiple times, sure the confusion and shock is written on his face as he stares at you. Fuck, he doesn’t know if he heard you correctly, and he’s too afraid to ask. He’s only able to dumbly murmur a “what?”

You only smile, no indication that those words had actually left your mouth. Except the fact that Jungkook had seen it. “There’s supposed to be a storm tomorrow. It’s not safe to go out.”

The lights flicker back on, and students begin to get up to leave the lecture hall. Jungkook is glued to his chair, staring at the desk you had just been sitting in. He’s too stunned to even bother thinking of a response, but luckily (or unluckily) you don’t seem to mind it. Instead you rise from your seat, swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you later, Jungkook.”

He glances up, swallowing hard at the coy grin on your face. Jungkook can’t help but follow your movement, watching as you pause at the door. You turn your head, making sure that you meet his eyes once again before winking at him. You take your leave, disappearing down the hallway but lingering in Jungkook’s mind.

There was... no way you knew, right? He’d been so careful not to let anything slip. Maybe you were talking about a TV show? As much as Jungkook tried to tell himself that it was all in his head, that no, you didn’t know about his not-so-little secret, somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice kept telling him that it was futile.

He’s embarrassed to admit that once he gets into the safety of his apartment, he runs to his computer, biting his nails as he waits for it to turn on. Jungkook clicks on the pink heart icon in the corner of his home screen, inputting his memorized account information.

USERNAME: nj_94

PASSWORD: boyzwithfun97

Jungkook hasn’t logged onto Cybersex since last Saturday, but searching for your name is like clockwork. Right as he clicks on your profile, he sees you’ve made a new post. Usually, Fridays were the days you went live, but apparently things were different tonight.

[9 MINUTES AGO] SWEETHEART666 said:

no live tonight, babes. vv special video coming tomorrow <3.

Yeah, he was completely and utterly fucked.

[ :: JOINING... the valley ::]

Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel.

He doesn’t even know what to expect. It’s finally Saturday, well Saturday morning and Jungkook finds himself lying in his bed, staring blankly at his ceiling. He’s already dreading the day, knowing that all that would be on his mind today would be you, and your stupid, vague words with your stupid smirk and, fuck, let’s just be real for a second; Jungkook has never been more mortified in his twenty-three years of living. Though if anyone were to ask, he’d say he’s doing fucking peachy, like the liar he is.

He hasn’t seen you since yesterday when you almost gave him a stroke from those borderline seductive words of yours. Fuck, a “show”? What else could you possibly mean? Did you know that he watched your videos? For Jungkook’s sake, he prays to whoever is up there that that’s all you know. The walls of the apartments are thin, thin enough for Jungkook to hear you moaning every time you film, and definitely flimsy enough for you to catch the sound of your name tumbling from his lips almost every goddamn time he comes. But, god, does he really wish he knew how you felt about everything. Instead of leaving him in the dark, he wished you would have at least told him you weren't angry at him for watching your videos in secret.

Oh, how things have taken a turn.

Something Jungkook is great at is pushing away his feelings. Which, in hindsight, has definitely never ever gone even remotely in his favor. Does that stop him from burying it all down? No. But it definitely has taught him ways to distract himself from anything and everything. And one of his favorite distractions is working out. In the gym located in the lower level of his apartment complex, he’s able to filter out the world, his thoughts, and throw all the shit he’s pushed down onto the treadmill. He focuses on the loud drumming of his playlist, pressing down on the arrow button until he’s completely drenched in sweat, panting from the thirty-minute sprint. Then it's weight lifting, which isn't as distracting as he’d like it to be, but if he turns his music up louder, he can't hear the way his brain is screaming at him to just! make! sense! of! his! feelings!

But it only lasts a short hour and a half during the workout. Now, all Jungkook can focus on is the way he hasn't ridden this elevator with you in what seems like forever, and how much he misses talking to you, even if it's just as nj_94. He wonders if maybe he’ll catch sight of you walking back from doing your laundry like he always does when he comes back from his Saturday workouts. Much to his dismay, there’s no sight of you when the elevator reaches your shared floor. His shoulders deflate, and he walks with his head down, feeling completely pathetic.

It’s only when he’s a few feet away from your apartment entrance that he spots the unfamiliar man leaning against your door. He’s poised, aura oozing with confidence and nonchalance. Jungkook slows his walking. Who the hell was he?

The man in question turns his head slightly, and consequently makes direct eye contact with Jungkook. Jungkook feels his eyes widen at how attractive this man was. But, honestly, he would be more surprised if he saw you with someone who looked any less than a fucking god amongst mortals. The man looks Jungkook up and down, plump lips shifting into a smirk before he tilts his head. Jungkook tenses, throwing him a quick nod of the head. His smile widens before the door to your apartment opens, and he walks in, disappearing as quickly as the door shuts.

Great, the last chance he had to see you before tonight was gone. No questions answered, but it was fine. Everything was fine. All he had to do was wait a bit more. Jungkook glances at his watch, sighing loudly before inputting the code, rather harshly, to his apartment.

Only five more hours.

Five minutes.

Jungkook has lost count of how many times he’s refreshed your profile page. He probably looks as crazy as he feels waiting for the clock to hit eleven. He doesn't know what he’s feeling. Excited? Unnerved? Terrified? Jungkook's willing to bet it might be all three.

The minutes seem to go agonizingly slow as if taunting him. The ticking of the clock above his bed threatens to send him into overdrive. He has half a mind to rip it from the nail on the wall and throw it across the room. Even the soft rain hitting his bedroom window makes him want to scream. But he knows every jumbled thought crossing his mind is just an attempt to distract him from the absolute fear he’s feeling right now.

Then finally, finally, after the umpteenth time Jungkook has refreshed the page, right when he feels he's about to implode and have his insides turn into mush, it appears. Right as the shorthand hits eleven.

● [LIVE!] ur fav boy on his knees... w/ a special surprise <3

by Sweetheart666

2,039 viewing now

Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop beating, and he almost doesn't click on the live, he almost shuts his laptop and walks to the corner of his bedroom to rethink his actions in shame.

Almost.

The sight is familiar, one of your dimly-lit bedroom and a king-sized bed freshly made with black satin sheets. It’s a view Jungkook has grown all too accustomed to, after spending countless late nights watching you come undone under the same light. But tonight, everything has him on edge. Even the sensual music playing quietly in the background makes his heart rate increase.

It takes another minute before you appear in frame, wearing that damned smirk on your face again. But now there’s a flash of something he can’t seem to name, that flickers in your eyes. Jungkook must either be losing his mind, or the camera was playing tricks. You greet everyone in that same sweet voice of yours, as you always do in every video. You wait a few more moments for more viewers to join, toying with the heart that hangs on the chain wrapped around your neck. Everything seemed normal so far, and for a split second, Jungkook is able to breathe again. But before his thoughts could get any further, he comes into the frame.

“Everyone, this is Minnie. You might know him as Jimin, or mincams. He’s the first person I’ve ever brought on my channel, so please be nice to him...”

The same guy that had been standing outside of your apartment door. Jungkook should’ve connected the dots. It was all right in front of his fucking eyes, yet he was too in his feelings to even realize it. This was your ‘special surprise’.

Jimin’s face is eerily familiar, and Jungkook realizes that it’s not from the fleeting hallway interaction. No, he’s definitely seen him on the trending page of Cybersex multiple times. He doesn’t know how he didn’t recognize him at first, having clicked on his videos out of curiosity before. He briefly wonders how Jimin, the ever dominating and controlling Cyberboy, was so willing to get on his knees for you. Then again, Jungkook knew better than to doubt your authority over anyone.

“...unless, of course, he misbehaves.”

Jungkook almost chokes on his spit, mind failing to grasp the last few words that had tumbled from your mouth. Had he heard you right? Judging by the way Jimin’s eyes light up, he’s gonna take a wild guess and say that yes, this was going exactly where Jungkook thought it was. He looks down at his pants. Jungkook was definitely more excited than terrified now.

You stand from your spot on the floor, but Jimin stays kneeled right where he is, eyes following your movement behind the camera. Jungkook glances at the growing number of viewers, half probably from Jimin’s own audience. Just one look at the comments, he notes that this is definitely something his fans had been waiting for.

“Sit on the bed. Strip down to your underwear.”

Even though he knows your words aren’t directed at him, Jungkook’s dick has a mind of its own. Sure, he’s watched the way you dominate during your solo shows, but seeing you order about another man, fuck, does it do things to Jungkook.

He watches as Jimin obeys immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed and almost ripping his shirt in his haste to please you. You walk into frame again, holding a piece of fabric in one hand. You trace your fingers over the slope of his nose, past his lips, and down the length of his neck. “Such a pretty face. Shame I have to cover it...” you pout, though your eyes are shining with mischief. Your hands bring the silk scarf around his eyes, tying it behind his head.

Jungkook puts his hand over his growing bulge as you guide Jimin further back onto your bed. You turn him to the side, both of your bodies perfectly lining up with the camera. Fuck, is it driving Jungkook absolutely wild knowing that this was all happening just on the other side of the wall behind him. God, the things he’d do to be in Jimin’s place. Or just be there in person.

You’re on his lap now, nipping at his neck as Jimin’s soft moans filter through the speakers of his computer. Your hands, however, are kept at your side, only making Jimin’s pleas for your touch more desperate. Yet, you give into none of it. Pulling away from him, but not without another whine from the blinded man, you grin. “So whiny.”

Jungkook pauses his clothed palming, waiting with bated breath as you go behind the camera once again. The sight of Jimin’s flushed cheeks and harsh breathing makes his dick harden impossibly more. You appear in frame, this time with an unfamiliar object in your hand. Your hand goes to Jimin’s chest, and he jumps from surprise, then immediately after whines at your soft caresses. Once his nipple stiffens, your other hand clamps the pink clip onto it, prompting a gasp from both Jimin and Jungkook.

Jungkook watches as you adjust the tightness while struggling to pull down his pants laying down. Jimin looks even more flustered than before, hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. “Does it feel okay?” he hears you whisper, and Jimin nods eagerly. You chuckle, “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” Jimin’s voice is strangled, and Jungkook can see the painful swell of his cock outline through the camera lens. “It’s perfect.”

“Good.” you pat his cheek before pushing him to lie down on his back. Another piece of fabric comes to wrap around Jimin’s wrists, placing them above his head. You climb over his body, opting to lay over his thighs, just below his prominent erection. “Tell me, baby,” Jungkook’s eyes catch the matching pink remote in your hand and the smirk on your face. Your thumb presses down on the button, and the sudden sounds of buzzing mixed with Jimin whining sets Jungkook’s skin ablaze. “Is it ok if I use you for tonight?”

“F-fuck, y-yes, p-please use me, sweetheart.”

Jungkook has his hand on his shaft, leisurely stroking as he watches you press the button once again. The humming stops, but Jimin is left gasping, back arching off the sheets. The sight spurs Jungkook further, and he brings his own hand to his erect nipples, pinching hard. You move to straddle Jimin’s thigh before lifting the other clamp to his mouth. “Open up, baby.”

Jimin quickly complies, opening his mouth wide enough for your index finger and thumb to enter. His lips wrap snugly around them, sucking until you tap his cheek. Your fingers and the clamp emerge drenched in his spit, but Jungkook only gets a glance before you’re shoving them beneath your thin mesh slip-on. The clamps come to life once again, you and Jimin releasing simultaneous moans of ecstasy.

There’s a thin sheen of sweat building on Jungkook’s skin as he pumps himself harder, whining at the sight. God, he’s never wanted to be beneath you as much as he wants to now. He watches as you press the remote once again, giggling quietly at Jimin’s complaining. Jungkook stops his stroking, despite how much he wants to continue, realizing he’d probably make himself come unintentionally. And he could tell you were just getting started.

Your hand trails down the expanse of his chest, trailing down his toned stomach before stopping right above the place Jimin wants you the most. Your touches are playful, teasing as you use your other hand to reattach the wet clip on Jimin’s bare nipple. Jimin gasps when you press your hand down on his erection. “Nngh, sweetheart. It hurts.” he pouts, and Jungkook is almost sure if he wasn’t blindfolded, he’d be giving you puppy eyes.

But you’re inexorable.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?” you’re still talking to Jimin, but you look straight at the camera, and at Jungkook, as you say it, lashes fluttering.

Now that makes Jungkook cease his motions. Even in his hunger-ridden mind, the words feel strangely familiar, like he’s heard them before, but in a different situation. Jungkook can’t seem to remember, but the thought disappears as quickly as it came. You’ve left Jimin alone on the bed again, standing beside as you slowly strip yourself of your underwear. Hearts blow up the screen as you smirk at the camera. “Everyone’s so needy today, huh?”

You crawl up next to Jimin, tracing your fingers lightly over his toned chest. “You could probably come from these alone.” Jimin voices his pleading objections, desperate to feel your hands elsewhere, but you leave his side once again, walking closer to the camera. “Hmm, let’s ask your fans what they think.”

There’s no need to even glance at the video chat, because your laugh says it all. “Looks like they want you like this, Minnie.” He arches his back of the bed, attempting to plead with you for more stimulation. “Nnngh, please, sweetheart.” Yet you only giggle quietly. Your hand reaches for the remote off to the side before you turn the clamps on once again. Jimin’s breathy moans are loud, loud enough to filter through your shared wall, and Jungkook gulps.

Leaving Jimin alone on the bed once again, you emerge with a silver bowl in your hand. You crawl onto his thighs again, clicking the button and halting Jimin’s pleasure. Your fingers pick up an ice cube before tracing it down his chest. Jimin shivers at the coolness, but otherwise stays quiet, waiting for your next move. When you reach the band of his boxers, you leave the ice cube to melt on his abs before pulling them down and letting his cock hit his stomach. Jimin gasps at the cold wetness, tied hands digging into the mattress above his head. “Is that better, Minnie?” he only nods in response, and this time it’s enough for you.

Jungkook glances at the mess on his lap, a mix of his precum and spit lathered all over his shaft and hand. He looks back at his screen, and he sees you’ve crawled over his chest, nearing his face. Your hand goes to cradle his jaw, using your thumb to trace his bottom lip. “Tell me, Minnie, is this mouth only good for whining and complaining?” Jimin shakes his head fervently, tongue coming out to lick at your thumb. “Hmm, mind if I test it for myself then?”

Jimin swallows, trying to find his voice. “Please.”

You push his head back onto the bed, placing your knees on either side of his head. Another ice cube finds its way to your hand, and you bring it to Jimin’s lips. “Open, Minnie.” he complies, sucking the ice into his mouth. His mouth is left agape, and you smile, pleased. “Good boy.”

You slowly sink down, just enough for Jimin to start licking and sucking your heat. You gasp, holding your breath before letting out a small whimper. The hand that’s not steadying you holds the remote, pressing down on the button once again. Jimin groans into your clit. Jungkook watches the way your back arches with pleasure as his hand speeds up on his dick. He imagines being the one underneath you, eating you out like he’s wanted to for so long. Jungkook tries to be quiet, he truly does, but, fuck, just the vision of you spread out above him, makes him moan out loud.

“C’mon, Minnie, louder. Don’t you want everyone to know how good I’m making you feel?” Jungkook doesn’t realize how loud Jimin is until he hears his moans clearer through the wall than his computer speaker. Jungkook swallows down his whines as best he can, but when he sees the way your toes curl from Jimin’s unrelenting mouth, he can’t help it anymore. He’s sure the noises falling from his mouth can be heard as clearly as Jimin’s, yet he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when he’s so close to his own release.

Your whimpers only spur Jungkook further, and he’s too lost in the way you smirk straight at the camera to worry about his volume anymore. He groans, on the edge of ecstasy when your voice sounds through his clouded mind. “C’mon, baby boy, I know you can do it.” White flashes behind his eyelids, and he comes in spurts of white all over his stomach. Jungkook doesn’t notice the way all light in his room has suddenly shut off, leaving him with only the glow of his dying computer to luminate him.

When Jungkook finally opens his eyes, there’s nothing but darkness, the harsh sound of rain splattering against his window and the howling noise of the wind mixing with his harsh breathing. Even Jimin’s whines and the humming of his laptop has stopped. The post orgasm haze clouding in his mind the only indication that whatever just happened was actually real.

CLICK!

[ENDED] ur fav boy on his knees w/ special surprise <3

by Sweetheart666

687,982 viewers / 2,298,836 hearts

#16 on trending

“Fuck.” he mutters, finally grasping the fact that the power had gone out. But, it’s when Jungkook’s eyes adjust to the darkness, that it comes back to him. Something you said that sounded too familiar, and this time he knows it’s not his imagination.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?”

It becomes clearer as his breath evens out.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”

You know.

#bangtanhq #btsbookclub #btsguild #btsgoldnet #goldenclosetnet #cypherwritersnet #btsghostie #jungkook x reader #park jimin x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #park jimin x you #jeon jungkook x you #jimin smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts smut #w; cybersex

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pink-flame · 3 years

Note

You know, we did not get an official first Juke Bodyguard AU kiss. Did they kiss after Julie's show? I'd like to know how their first kiss was

I mean technically you did get their first kiss, it was just brief and apparently unsatisfying. So...let’s try this again. 😂 Have their second kiss.

Julie was pretty sure that her Orpheum concert was the best show she had ever done.

There was the fact that she had been dreaming of performing there for practically her entire life, ever since Reggie and Alex had taken her to her first concert ever in that very same club. There was the fact that for the first time in a long time almost everyone she cared about was gathered to watch her, her dad, and her brothers, and Alex and Flynn. There was the fact that every single note seemed to fall exactly where it was meant to, her voice soaring like never before in a way that felt...easy.

But she would have been lying if she said that any of those factors were the real reason why it was her best show ever.

The truth was a lot simpler.

The truth was she performed the whole concert with a permanent smile stretching across her lips, lips that still tingled from where they had all too briefly pressed against Luke’s. They had exchanged I love yous. They had finally stopped dancing around each other and wondering if the other felt the same.

And they had kissed.

Even if it had been cut frustratingly short.

Still.

There would be plenty of time for that. Like. The second her show ended.

Only it didn’t turn out to be quite that simple.

Luke had clearly had the same idea because he was waiting for her in the wings, hovering even closer to the edge of the stage than he would on a normal night, those big eyes and that distracting grin fixed on her until her final bow. As soon as Julie practically ran off of the stage she was in his personal space, struggling to maintain some small semblance of professionalism by not immediately latching her lips onto his. It was a struggle though and one that he seemed to be feeling too.

“Hi,” She said, looking up at him, as her lip slipped between her teeth.

“Hi,” He echoed, one of his hands coming up to touch lightly at her elbow and usher her slightly farther into the wings.

And that was ok, that was normal, in fact before she had started trying to ignore him they regularly touched way more than this in front of anyone and everyone. Only now her skin practically burned where his fingers rested on it and she found herself unintentionally swaying even closer to him. He must have been feeling it too because the next thing she knew his head was dipping down towards hers, and hers was tilting up and…

Oh.

“Luke,” She whispered, her hands coming up to press against his chest and halt his progress. “Let’s go somewhere more private, ok?”

He didn’t respond right away, his body seeming prepared to fight to continue its journey towards hers for a split second before her words pierced the haze around his mind. He jolted and took a half step back, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his head sheepishly.

“Right, yeah, good idea.”

He recovered from his embarrassment quickly, shooting her another grin and using his grip on her elbow to guide her out into the hall and towards her green room.

Julie wasn’t exactly proud of the way she spent the short walk counting the seconds until she and Luke could be alone and more properly express their happiness at finally confessing to each other but...that didn’t mean she wasn’t counting them. Unfortunately when Luke finally gripped the door handle and ushered them inside they were very much not alone.

In fact the room was packed with just about everyone she had previously been so excited were there to see her play. Oh. Yeah.

“Julie, that was phenomenal!”

Before she could react, Julie’s dad was striding across the room and sweeping her up into her arms, jostling her away from a frowning Luke in the process.

“Thanks, Dad,” Julie said genuinely, returning his hug before pulling away with a smile.

Her dad wasn’t the only one who wanted her attention and to congratulate her, Flynn, Reggie, Alex and even Carlos all stepping forward to take their turn, the room quickly becoming an impromptu celebration of Julie finally achieving one of her lifelong dreams to perform at the Orpheum. And she appreciated it, she did. So much.

But she was also incredibly aware of Luke hovering at the outskirts of the gathering, Reggie and Alex doing their best to keep him involved in conversation, but his energy practically bouncing around the room and blasting into her with its intensity. She was pretty sure she was matching it if she was being honest. It had been the better part of a year spent thinking that their respective feelings were unrequited and now that the unrequited part had been proved to very much not be true they were both practically vibrating with anticipation of what came next.

So when Julie glanced over her shoulder and locked eyes with Luke as they each did their best to keep up a conversation with different people, she knew the exact moment that both of them decided they were done waiting.

Luke was suddenly pulling out his phone and making a big show of reading a supposed message that had come through before hurrying over to her and practically tugging her towards the door.

“Sorry everyone, need to borrow Julie just for a minute, official business.”

Julie did her best to ignore the knowing looks Alex, Reggie and Flynn all sent them and the way her dad’s forehead furrowed in confusion, following Luke out into the hall and pausing just long enough to make sure the door was shut securely behind them. That turned out to be all she had time to do before Luke was swinging her gently against the wall and bracketing her body with both of his inescapably muscular arms.

“Sorry,” He murmured, his face once again starting to dip towards hers. “I got impatient.”

“No, yeah, same,” Julie said a little breathlessly, reaching up to rest a hand on each of his shoulders.

“Ok, that’s good then,” He said, his voice dropping by at least an octave as one of his hands slipped off of the wall to rest on her lower back, tugging her even closer to him and wrenching a gasp from her without her permission.

Their lips were just about to connect when Alex’s voice suddenly sounded from just on the other side of the green room door.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you, I’m on my way.”

Julie’s eyes widened in panic with the knowledge that Alex was about to step out and catch them in a somewhat compromising position. She knew that it wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong, and they certainly weren’t doing anything Alex hadn’t already probably guessed they were somewhere doing. But that didn’t mean she was ready for her best friend and assistant to see with his own eyes the way she and Luke simply couldn’t keep their hands off of each other at the moment. Luke clearly felt the same, only luckily for her his bodyguard instincts seemed to kick in. Just as the handle on the door started to move he tugged her down the hallway and through the next door they came to.

Julie’s first observation was only that it seemed that they had succeeded in avoiding Alex and she let a rush of relief flow through her. But her second observation was that she and Luke were pressed up against each other in what appeared to be a small closet.

Again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” She said quietly.

“I guess this is going to be our thing,” Luke answered with another one of those heat fluttering grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out.”

“Oh yeah?” Julie chuckled. “How long do you think it will be?”

“Hmmm…” Luke wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body even more flush against his. “Hard to say. Better safe than sorry.”

Julie giggled at that, she couldn’t help it. She was happy and she loved him and he loved her and they were finally alone and they were back in a closet and…

Luke’s mouth pressed against hers, at first softly than more insistently, his fingers curling into the soft skin of her waist as she melted fully against him. Julie could hardly process the actual sensation of the kiss through all of the fireworks that felt like they were exploding in her mind as her brain practically sang in elation at the rightness of being Luke and Julie, together. Of course that didn’t last long as her lips parted of their own accord and he instantly deepened the kiss with a little groan of satisfaction that sent tingles from her head to her toes. She brought up one hand to rest on the back of his neck while she couldn’t resist letting the other work its way into that stupid, messy hair. She curled her fingers around a few strands of his hair, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp. His reaction was immediate, seeming to lose his balance at the sensation as he stumbled pushing both of them against the wall knocking over what she was pretty sure was a stand containing cleaning supplies.

Julie broke away from the kiss, laughing uncontrollably as Luke struggled to regain his balance, push away a mop that had landed on his shoulder and reconnect their lips all at the same time.

“I’m going to be honest, I’m thinking it’s probably a good thing I’m getting a new bodyguard soon,” She teased, stroking gently at the patch of skin on his neck she could still reach. “Apparently all it takes to take you out is a scalp massage.”

Luke smirked down at her.

“Oh, so what I’m hearing is you want me to show you my skills,” He said in that soft, low voice that made it really hard for her to focus on anything, even teasing him. “Observing...detecting...physical intervention…”

Julie wanted very badly to make fun of the way he was trying to use bodyguard lingo to get under her skin but the problem was it was absolutely working, which meant it was safer just to say nothing. Instead she let her eyes slide closed, and her head tilt up and could just feel the slightest brush of his lips against hers when a loud knock had them springing apart.

“Are you two done because Julie’s dad would really like to take his daughter to a celebratory dinner and I don’t want to have to be the one who tells him she’s engaged in steamy activities in a random closet.”

Luke groaned and Julie chuckled.

“We’ll be right there, Alex,” She called out.

“Will we?” Luke grumbled.

“Yes,” Julie said with a smile, before leaning up to press one last quick kiss to his mouth. “I love you.”

That seemed to ease some of his disappointment, a sappy, pleased smile spreading onto his face instantly.

“I love you too.”

“Now come on,” Julie said, tugging him towards the door with a grin. “The sooner we get dinner with my dad the sooner you can do one last security sweep of my apartment.”

#500 followers #prompt game #juke #jatp #bodyguard au #my fics

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dickwheelie · 3 years

Text

heyyyy coming in a few days early with the “expression” prompt for @aspecarchivesweek! just a lil something about jon wearing a shirt he doesn’t like. enjoy!

(also on ao3)

_______________

All of Jon’s clothes are in greyscale.

Well, this isn’t entirely true—some are a very light tan, or a dingy brown. One mothbitten vest is a glaring 70’s orange that Jon deeply dislikes, so it stays at the back of his closet. These are the clothes he inherited from his parents and possibly also his grandparents, which he can’t bring himself to throw away. The rest, however, strictly range from white to black, practical to a fault.

Jon has a working theory that he may be the first person in history with an allergy to clothing stores. Entering one instantly stresses him out, and all he wants is to get what he came for and get out as quickly as possible. Figuring out how to match colors, as he eventually learns by the time he’s in uni, is a waste of time and consideration. Much easier and simpler to only buy clothes in shades that match no matter how you swap them out.

Of course, there are exceptions, and as life goes on in its chaotic and unaccountable way, he acquires items of clothing he wouldn’t otherwise have picked for himself. A colorful sweater from Georgie as a birthday gift. A free T-shirt from a uni event. He keeps these things for their sentimental value, but rarely wears them out of the house.

However, sometimes life is not only chaotic but also utterly unmanageable. And sometimes Jon finds himself with a promotion he doesn’t really know what to do with, an entire archive to organize, and less time than he’s ever had to do laundry.

And, well. One has to wear something to work, doesn’t one.

This is what Jon keeps telling himself as he miserably pulls on the last clean shirt left in his flat. He should know; he’s checked four times, and if he checks a fifth he’ll be late for work. He gives himself a glance in the small, dirty mirror stuck to the inside of his closet door, and looks away almost immediately, strangely embarrassed.

It’s just a long-sleeved, striped T-shirt, which is maybe a bit unprofessional for the workplace, but it’s not as though anybody minds how the people who work in the basement dress. The problem comes from its colors. Well, one of its colors. Three of them—black, grey, white—are perfectly suitable for Jon. But following those, at the bottom of the shirt, is a glaring, bright violet.

The shirt is a casualty of the aforementioned chaos of life. A friend of an acquaintance had given it to Jon to wear to a pride parade several years back, which he had ended up skipping out on anyway. Since then the shirt had been kept out of sight and mind, packed into the back of Jon’s closet for a rainy day that he’d never really expected to arrive.

There’s a first time for everything, Jon thinks, almost reflexively. The words don’t mean much to him, philosophically speaking, but they are a steadying mantra nonetheless. He goes to pull on his coat; by some measure of luck, it’s a cold day out. He plans not to take it off again until he’s safely back in his flat that night.

The trouble is, of course, that wearing one’s coat while making tea in the break room in an adequately-heated basement looks rather conspicuous to one’s coworkers, and leads to questions.

“You feeling alright, boss?” Tim asks, as he retrieves his bagged lunch from the fridge.

“Yes,” Jon says, stiffly. “Perfectly fine. I’m just cold.”

Sasha, who has followed Tim in, says, “Not sick, I hope.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Jon says again, though he is beginning to feel a bit overheated. “It’s just cold in here. You don’t feel cold?”

Tim and Sasha shake their heads, looking concerned.

“I’m fine,” Jon says for the third time in thirty seconds, and promptly flees the break room.

By late afternoon, Jon is sweltering, and has no choice but to take off the coat. He’s careful to close his office door before he does so, resolving to put it back on if he needs to be seen by anyone for the rest of the day.

Though the garish violet stripe in his periphery is distracting at first, he loses himself in his work soon enough, spending an hour or two tearing through a stack of statements that are, by and large, utter nonsense.

He loses himself in his work so much, in fact, that when there’s a knock at his office door, he says “Come in,” without thinking.

“Hey, Jon,” says Tim as he enters, “d’you have a copy of statement zero-one-three-two . . .”

Tim’s voice drifts off, and Jon looks up, irritated. “Zero-one-three-two-what?”

Tim’s staring at him, an eager expression on his face, and Jon’s stomach goes cold. He looks down at the shirt, remembering, and stops himself from groaning. If he doesn’t react, maybe Tim will leave it alone. “What number were you looking for, Tim?” he says instead, very calmly and professionally.

But of course it doesn’t work. Tim’s face breaks into a smile, and he gives Jon a big, showy once-over. Jon rolls his eyes even before the words are out of Tim’s mouth. “Looking good, boss.”

“Tim, I have even less patience for sarcasm than usual, so if you could please—”

“Who said anything about sarcasm? You look good! Casual, ah, Tuesday suits you, Jon.”

Jon puts his elbows up on his desk and massages his temples. “I ran out of laundry.”

“Ah, been there.” Tim seems to have taken Jon’s resignation as an invitation, because he helps himself to the chair opposite Jon’s desk. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for the pride flag type, though. Don’t even think I’ve seen you with laptop stickers.”

“No,” Jon says, “I’m not. Not usually. This is just the only thing I had lying around. It’s from years ago, I never wear it.”

“Aw.” Tim genuinely looks disappointed. Jon wonders if perhaps he’s losing what remains of his tenuous ability to read people. “That’s a shame. You look good in purple.”

Jon has reached a point in his life, he’s fairly certain, where he ought to have heard such a comment before, or at least know the proper response. In actuality, he cannot recall a single instance of someone in his adult life complimenting his choice of fashion. He looks down at the shirt again. It’s the same as it was before: too-bright and obvious. He highly doubts it could look good on him in any shape or form. “Um. Thank you?” he says, sounding more bewildered than grateful.

“Really! It, like, brings out your eyes, or something. I dunno, but I think it’s nice on you. Not sure why you went through all the trouble to hide it all day.”

Jon shifts in his chair. “It’s . . . I mean, it’s very loud, isn’t it. And obvious. It’ll just attract attention.”

Tim looks at him for a moment or two. “Jon,” he says, “is this just about the shirt? Or is it also about the shirt?”

“That makes no sense, Tim.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jon, admittedly, does. One of the things he appreciates most about Tim is that they can be honest with one another, if only after some customary back-and-forth. He sighs deeply. “It’s—it’s just . . . a lot. I know it isn’t, really, in the grand scheme, it’s just you and Sasha, a-and Martin, too, I suppose. And it’s London, no one’s going to—it’s safe. I know that. B-But it’s a lot, being seen with everything—out in the open. By strangers. To know that they know. And even if they don’t know, they’ll . . . they’ll probably be able to guess.” He stares down at the scratched, cheap wood of his desk. Long ago, someone had carved a tiny pentagram on the lip of it. If Jon’s sense of humor weren’t buried under three layers of anxiety at the moment, he’d probably find it funny. “And I know it’s childish, to care what a bunch of strangers would think. But I can’t . . . I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t just let it go.”

There’s a painfully long pause before Tim speaks up again.

“Well, I’ve got good news for you, Jon.”

Jon looks up at him warily, and finds that Tim is smiling at him. “What?”

He points at Jon’s coat where it hangs off the back of his chair. “You can put that back on.”

Jon blinks at him.

“At five,” Tim goes on, “you can put your coat back on, button it up, and walk out of here, and when you get back to your flat, Jon, you can do your bloody laundry. And you never have to wear that shirt ever again. Problem solved.”

“But . . .” Jon’s voice peters out before he can come up with a real protest.

“If wearing pride colors makes you feel like that,” Tim says, his voice gentler, “then don’t wear them. Simple as that. Not everybody’s got to carry a flag twenty-four-seven. Or ever. Doesn’t make you any less queer. Hell, even I take the pins off my bag sometimes.” Tim squints into the middle distance, muttering, “I can never seem to get the laptop stickers off, though.”

“But—what about what you said about me wearing purple?” He’s grasping at straws, he knows, but Tim’s argument is quite good. And the thought of never wearing this particular shirt again does sound rather appealing.

“So wear an aubergine button-down every once in a while!” Tim shrugs. “Or don’t! It’s none of my business.” He tilts his head to the side. “Actually, please do wear an aubergine button-down sometime. You’d turn some heads down here.” He pauses. “Figuratively, I mean. I’m sure everyone would be very respectful.”

Jon lets out a startled laugh. “Alright,” he says, feeling lighter. He runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe, sometime, I’ll . . . I’ll try it.”

“I know you like your blacks and whites, Jon,” Tim says, “and I’m not here to tell you how to dress. But if you ever need advice, or want to borrow a colorful, strictly nondenominational shirt . . .” He points both thumbs at himself. “I’m your guy.”

“Okay,” Jon says, and is surprised to find that, in this one, specific case, he is.

“And,” Tim adds, pointing a professorial finger in the air, “it’s not childish to care about what other people think of you. Pretty sure it’s the most universal thing there is. Welcome to the human race, Jon. You’re among us peons, now.”

Jon raises an eyebrow. “How unfortunate,” he says, drily, and Tim cackles.

Jon wears his coat home, keeping it carefully buttoned, and when he gets back to his flat he tosses the shirt into the back of his closet from whence it came. He’s not going to throw it away altogether, of course. It has sentimental value. Someday, maybe, he’ll dig it back up, if only just to look at.

For now, Jon does his bloody laundry.

#tma #the magnus archives #AspecArchives #aspecarchivesweek #gwyneth writes #it's ok jon i'm allergic to clothing stores too

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

The Killing Cure (Part 21)

So this is another mobile post. Will put it under the cut when I get to my desktop.

He doesn't know how he hadn't noticed promptly; Lady Dimitrescu, though she is still much taller than he, is actually quite small. He wonders if the woman is aware silent in his embarrassment he strikes his forehead with the heel of his hand, stupid stupid Salvatore, of course the lady I knows! She is a smart woman and a change so big…? Small…? Profound, wouldn't go unnoticed. It is somewhat comforting if he were to be honest. Before she was such an intimidating presence to be around. So much so that he sought to avoid her if he could help it.

But the woman who sits before him, shifting in the chair with a look of mild disgust is infinitely more approachable.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Dimitrescu shakes her head and is hear sinks. He is loathsome, repulsive, repugnant! Of course she doesn't want anything that has been delivered by his grimy hands.

"You got any beer? I haven't had a good beer in a while." Ethan requests. "I could use one."

Salvatore nods eagerly. He hasn't had company in so long, much less company that is willing to let him be hospitable. Only Mother Miranda let's him be hospitable.

He plops a can into the man's hand. He visibly cringes when the slime runs down the side of his his palm. And for a second Salvatore thinks that he will put the drink inside. Instead he wipes the can clean and pops the cap.

"Are you sure that you don't want anything, Lady Dimitrescu?"

"To eat or drink, absolutely."

He thinks that he hears Ethan grumble, "you should eat, those vitamines are only supplements."

"But there is something else that I would like." She carries on as though she hadn't heard the man sitting next to her.

"How can I help?" He has asked the wrong question. He knows that he cannot help. He wonders why she is asking him rather than Donna or even Karl. Surely even Karl is a more desirable option.

"Winters and I are looking for his daughter. I imagine that Mother Miranda has given you a role to play? I am asking you to... reconsider your alliances."

"Betray Mother Miranda?" He squeaks. He could never! He doesn't understand how she could ask such a thing! To betray the only person who has seen his value.

"I-I couldn't possibly, Lady Dimitrescu! Mother Miranda has been good to me."

"By turning you into a gross and gushy fish...man...thing?" He chuckles to himself, "manthing." And then he clears his throat, reverting back to tealitibe seriousness, "I wouldn't call that good."

"I...well it's...nobody, mostly nobody, messes with me anymore."

"That's because you isolated yourself in a swamp." Lady Dimitrescu drums her claws...former claws upon the armrest.

Salvatore slinks back. "Mother Miranda sees my value." Even where he doesn't, she always has.

.oOo.

"She doesn't see your value, Moreau. She sees you vulnerabilities and she uses them." Just as she had used her. And how lovely it had been to believe those lies. "I see your value, Moreau." At least she hopes that she will in time. She thinks that even he can tell that she is telling pretty lies.

"I know how you look at me and my dwelling." He gestures about the place. "You want to use me."

"So then what does it matter? You're being used either way, what difference does it make who's using you?" She scoffs.

Ethan nudges her. "What she means to say is that we would really appreciate your help."

"I meant what I said, Winters!" She snaps.

Ethan inhales deeply, "I would value your help. And I wouldn't use you. You gave me a beer, we're friends now."

"Friends?" Moreau tests the word.

"You ever have a friend before?"

Moreau meekly shakes his head, "none at all, Winters."

"Well now you do and you can start by calling me Ethan."

Now Moreau looks far beyond anxious. The pathetic creature is all jittery and stuttering.

"B-but you won't like me. You'll find me repulsive eventually."

"I already do but friends look past that. I was able to look past Alcina's occasional blood baths. She smells like a corpse when she comes out of those and it's pretty awful."

Alcina clenches her teeth, cheeks coloring ever so slightly. "How dare you--"

"I look past a whole lot of that too." He jabs his thumb at the snarl on her face. "She's pretty cranky all the time but she isn't so bad once you get used to traveling with her."

"Blood and mucus are not the same. At least she's nice to look at."

Ethan smiles a lopsided awkward smile. "Yeah she's a beautiful lady. Her eyes are alluring, her face is charming, she has nice hair and a fantastic…"

"Winters, stay focused!" She demands sharply.

"Ass." He whispers to Moreau.

She shoves him off of the couch, "have some tact or sit yourself down next to Moreau, you loose lipped oaf."

Ethan rubs his own rear. "Well anyways, to show you that I am not repulsed by you I will gladly sit next to you until Alcina wants to be nice to me. She rolls her eyes as one cretin seats himself next to the other.

He does his best to keep the appalled expression off of his face even as the stench of death and fish assaults his nostrils. His eyes are watering and Alcina smirks. She must admit that the man is very good at feigning acceptance.

For a heartbeat she wonders if he is only pretending to accept her, wonders if he will stab her in the back as soon as he has his Rose back. She bites the inside of her cheek.

"So what do you say Moreau? Trade a heartless cultist for a real companion?"

"I'll consider." He twiddles his thumbs.

But she knows him, she knows that he won't want to venture beyond his comfort zone. And his comfort zone wears a bird mask.

"If you can stay the night, I will have the answer by morning."

.oOo.

It was exactly what he was hoping to avoid; staying here with the putridly smelling miasma of sea and decay. And on a makeshift hammock that is damp and slicked with what could either be mold or algae.

He doesn't want to rest which it is. He is rather content in his blissful ignorance. He can't deny that he is quite pissed that Alcina has taken the dry cot. He can't even get to sleep in a perfectly hammock and has no idea how Moreau can possibly sleep in what looks to be a large and repurposed fishing net.

He groans and makes his first attempt to scramble onto the hammock. By the fourth, he is ready to sleep on the floor.

He pretends not to hear her when Alcina slips into the room. A feat made harder by the very obvious cracking of the floorboards.

“Winters…” She looks off for a moment. “I’d like you to spend the night with me again.”

With only a sentence, his anger dissipates, "shit,I thought you'd never ask."

"After your," she coughs, "crass commentary, I wasn't going to. But I changed my mind."

"What made you do that?"

"This place is damp and chilly. You are warm."

It sounds like an excuse to him but he isn't one to question a mercy no matter how small.

This cot is even smaller than the one at House Bennivento. Ethan is certain that Alcina is plenty aware of this. She climbs onto it anyhow and gestures for him to join her.

"Shouldn't I get in first?"

She shakes her head, "lay down before I change my mind."

He crawls atop her and tries to make himself comfortable. It isn't particularly hard, Alcina is very pleasant and charmingly soft and kindly warm. He hesitates for a moment before resting his head upon her chest.

He feels her fingers weaving through his hair. "Comfortable?"

"Very." He confirms. He thinks that he is more comfy here than he would be in a bed of his own.

She sighs. The exhale is followed by a brief duration of silence. At last she fills it, “it has been a very long time since I’ve been in pleasant company. And longer still since that company has been a man.”

"We're there any women?" The question comes forward before he can curb it.

"Several of them have warmed my bed. Good girls, they were." She muses.

"What happened to them?"

"Well I used them for my wine, of course."

Ethan cringes and she chuckles as though she has only told a simple little joke. "I was thinking of doing the same to you but your blood was so stale." She continues to stroke his hair.

"Well that's reassuring." He grumbles.

"I suppose that it doesn't matter anymore."

This time it is he who is responsible for the silence. He as he tries to make sense of a woman who doesn't seem to, by her very nature, make any sense at all.

"Why?" He finally musters.

"Why what?"

"Why am I sharing a bed with you again?"

She furrows her brows as though he is the confusing one. As though it is he who has been sending all sorts of conflicting signals.

"It's just that, one minute I'm a stupid manthing and the next I'm a charming gentlemen." He continues. "Do you like or not?"

"You are indeed a stupid manthing and a gentleman. I wish that you would just pick one, preferably the latter of the two."

And she is dodging the more important question. "And if I decided to pick 'stupid manthing' what would you do them."

She makes a sound, perhaps something to indicate both amusement and annoyance at his audacity. "I would…" she trails off. "I suppose that it depends on the extent that your idiocy reaches."

He has to laugh at this, how can he not--it is her quaint prose and relief that she is even considering humoring dumbassery to any extent at all.

"Your antics can be endearing and entertaining sometimes." She confesses. "But they are also terribly annoying."

"So do you like me or not."

With no way to dance around it she falls back into her silence for a very long time before she mumbles, "I'm trying my hardest not to…"

"But you do?"

"I...yes. I think." This mumbling is even softer.

"Care to figure it out for sure?" He asks. Though there any enough room to contact his preferred test, he thinks that something simpler will suffice.

Her hair stroking comes to an abrupt but brief halt. "I suppose that I wouldn't mind."

"Good." He props himself up just enough to kiss the woman's forehead and then her lips, a gentle testing of the waters before he kisses her neck. And when she doesn't bat him away or shove him off of the bed he lays one on her collarbone and then her chest.

He is met with something between a hum and a purr, her fingers tap upon his back. "How was that?"

"It was well enough, Ethan." She replies. "Perhaps we can double check when we find more comfortable lodgings."

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina/ethan #ethan winters #fanfiction #ethan x alcina

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yunhowhoitiss · 4 years

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧

𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫!𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐞𝐦)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k+ words

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, slightly suggestive, subtle mutual pining (?)

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re locked out of your apartment, and your sweet neighbour Mingi just wants to help you out. how long can you go until you realize he likes you too?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: silk ties make an appearance heh, mingi sees reader’s bra :0 (through a shirt, nonetheless), shy mingi in general, some good ol’ teasing

masterlist

Puddles pitter-pattered under your feet as you took brisk steps on the sidewalk. With your right hand, you held your bag above your head to shield your head from the rain; your left hand was busy wiping drops off of your face. Just a few minutes ago you were calmly walking home from the restaurant you worked at, with your eyelids drooping and feet sore, but heavy clouds interrupted your walk with torrents of rain. Cold rainwater was now soaking through your socks, squelching with every step you took, and your teeth had started knocking together in a chatter. You couldn’t afford to get sick now of all times, you thought, so you rushed to get to your apartment and punched in the building’s entry code as fast as possible with your numb fingers. You made your way to the elevator and ruffled through your bag looking for your keys, struggling to find them.

Just as the elevator dinged to signal its arrival, a man came through the building entrance; he was tall, dressed in a long coat, and he sported contrastingly cute glasses over his sharp eyes. It was your neighbour, Mingi. He smiled upon seeing your face, and you couldn’t deny that his eyes-turned-half-moons lifted your spirits ever so slightly. As you were lost in your thoughts, so was Mingi. He felt his heart jump upon crossing paths with you and admired your face as you remained distracted. Hell, he would’ve moved out of the damned apartment building a long time ago if you hadn’t been the one thing keeping him anchored there.

“Hi there,” he greeted as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” you responded distractedly, continuing to search for your keys.

As both of you entered the elevator, you were embarrassingly aware of the wet squeak of your converse against the tiled floor. Mingi pressed the button for the 3rd floor while you dug through your bag, still oblivious of his curious gaze on you. Frustration laced your expression, and it became clear to you that you had no idea where you’d put your keys. You thought back to the moment when you were closing up the restaurant you worked at, raking your memory for the location of your keys. The elevator arrived at your floor, and Mingi sent you a subtly concerned glance before exiting and muttering “G'night.”

You briefly lingered in the elevator when it hit you: I left them at the front desk of the restaurant. How could I leave with the restaurant keys and not with my own?

Stepping out of the lift, you wandered to your apartment door, lost in your thoughts. It’s too late at night to call my landlord for the spare key. I can’t go back to the restaurant either— there’s too much rain. It crossed your mind to call your best friend, but he lived a whole city away. You were so preoccupied trying to figure out your situation that you hadn’t noticed Mingi standing in front of his open door, deep in thought. At this point, he had caught on to the fact that you didn’t have your house keys. He watched you listlessly stare at your door and wondered if he could help.

“Hey, uh, you good over there?” he asked gingerly.

“Not really. I don’t have my keys. I– well– I left them at work.”

Mingi contemplated offering his couch for the night. No, no, that’s creepy. Or is it? I don’t want to seem weird.

“Do you… need a place to crash for the night? I have a decently sized couch, and I could fish out some clean clothes for you if you’d like." You curiously tilted your head, wondering why he was being so kind. This didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi, but he misinterpreted it and thought you were suspicious of him. "Oh, don’t get me wrong! I just figured you could use my hand– well, not my hand, I mean a hand– but my help, you know?” Mingi babbled.

“Well, if you really don’t mind, I’d gladly crash on your couch.”

Mingi’s shoulders visibly relaxed as you accepted his request. He nodded at his door, beckoning for you to come in. You followed his instructions to leave your shoes by the door and your bag and jacket by the couch. Mingi headed down a short hallway into what seemed to be his bedroom; you stood awkwardly in his living room, silently inspecting his apartment. It was fairly well decorated: an ivy green sectional couch sat in front of a cheap television. In front of the couch stood a glass coffee table littered with magazines and used mugs, in the corner stood a pretty industrial-style lamp, and you spotted about seven miniature succulents on the windowsills of three tall windows. Although the plants seemed to be dying, you commended Mingi for somewhat trying to maintain them. You heard his footsteps from the hall again and turned around to see what he had come back with. He held a thick blanket in one hand, and a pillow in the other.

“I hope this is warm enough; it’s the softest blanket I have.”

“Thank you, really, it should be more than enough,” you smiled at his earnestness.

He looked at you apologetically when he noticed your teeth chattering; you hadn’t noticed just how wet and cold your clothes were. Your body shivered and your arms wrapped around your front. You were unaware that the white shirt you wore did little to disguise what was beneath it, and didn’t catch Mingi swallow (hard) and avert his eyes. He dropped the pillow and blanket on the couch and turned towards you, hesitant to say his next words.

“If you want, you can take a shower to warm up; you could borrow some of my clothes since yours are pretty soaked,” he scratched his head and avoided your gaze, “If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

As you took a quick look at your clothes you realized what he meant. Oh shit. What a day for a white shirt, huh? You felt heat crawl up your neck and cheeks out if embarrassment upon understanding that he had probably noticed your bra through your clothing. With anyone else, you wouldn’t have thought too much of it, but something about the idea of taking a shower and wearing his clothes all but made your heart leap out of your chest. Strangely enough, you weren’t uncomfortable in the least. An abrupt burst of confidence overtook you.

“Showering here and wearing your clothes… that’s more of a fourth date thing, don’t you think?” You teased, unable to resist the temptation to.

For a moment, Mingi was caught off-guard at your sudden change of attitude, until he finally processed your words. He laughed out loud at your cheeky comment and flashed you his signature eye-smile. You found it cute that he cackled with his head thrown back, mouth wide open. Your fingertips tingled, and the sound of his laugh set of a warm buzz throughout your body.

“A shower would be nice, though. Thank you,” you added.

He uttered a short “no problem” before nudging his glasses back up his nose. Now, of all times, your stomach gurgled in protest of being empty; you hadn’t eaten since this morning. The amused smile fell off of your face, now replaced with a frown and wide eyes. Mingi chortled upon hearing the sudden noise, finding it oddly endearing how embarrassed your expression had become. Cute.

“I’ll make us something to eat while you’re getting washed up. You don’t have any food allergies, do you?”

“Peanuts,” you tell him.

“Noted.”

He paced toward his kitchen– well, it was more of a kitchenette –and opened up the fridge, only to find a carton of milk and leftover pizza. He internally rolled his eyes at himself. You can’t even cook, dumbass, no wonder it’s so empty. He opted to check in one of the cabinets. From where you stood, you could see that it was filled with a variety of instant ramen and a lonely can of peaches. You struggled to hold in the laugh that bubbled out of your chest while Mingi was slightly embarrassed, but he grinned regardless.

“Do you know how to cook anything besides instant noodles?” you giggled, stepping towards him.

“Totally,” he feigned confidence.

“What?”

“Uh… microwave popcorn.”

This time you didn’t even try to tone down your laugh, laughing as if he had told you the funniest joke in the world. He looked down at you and observed the way you held your tummy as you laughed, spotting a faint snort in your chuckle. He just stood and watched you, ignoring his rapid heartbeat and the familiar butterflies in his tummy. The same butterflies he got every time you crossed paths in the elevator, or the times he happened to see you leave your apartment when he did. When you finally caught your breath, you spoke again.

“You know what? Instant ramen sounds good,” you beamed.

“Coming right up. As for your change of clothes, you’ll find some shirts and sweats in the drawers in my bedroom. First door on the right.” He filled a pot with water and opened several packs of ramen as he spoke.

Mingi’s bedroom was simpler than you thought it would be. In the far corner by an old-looking window sat his bed on a simple bed frame; the mattress was large for one person and just enough for two. There was no wardrobe to be seen except a long rack full of various clothes. The man sure knows how to dress. Mingi cared a lot about his fashion, after all. You spotted a black dresser and assumed they were the drawers he mentioned earlier. You checked the bottom drawer first and picked out a pair of black sweatpants, then moved on to the middle one. As you slid open the wooden drawer, it revealed a couple of stacks of socks, shirts, and underwear. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment as you spotted pairs of grey underwear alongside a pair of banana-patterned boxers. You assumed Mingi had forgotten to warn you, and you smiled shyly before laughing at the pair of yellow undergarments. You dug through the shirts beside them anyway, only to find tank tops and t-shirts. Doesn’t he own any sweatshirts?

You continued rummaging through the bag as your fingers brushed against something uncharacteristically soft. Thoughtlessly, you pulled the object out.

Oh my god.

Your fingers were wrapped around two pairs of black and white silk ties, each delicate in your hands. You stuffed them back where you found them and closed the drawer with a bang, huffing a big breath.

“Everything alright, y/n?” You heard Mingi call from the kitchen.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine!”

“Alright, ramen’s ready in fifteen!”

You snatched a blue hoodie from the top drawer and hurried to the bathroom. You tried to focus on the hot water flowing down the curve of your spine, but curiosity plagued you as you wondered about the silk ties. Your attention drifted to thoughts of whether he may be interested in going out one day, or if he had already given his heart to someone else. You scolded yourself for being too nosy. He’s just being nice, y/n. Don’t get any ideas.

Still, you couldn’t ignore the warmth that flooded your chest every time you saw his face or met him in the hallway. An exasperated sigh escaped your lips; you were too tired to be thinking of something so trivial.

You stretched your arm out of the shower, but your hand was met with an empty towel rack. Oh shit, you had forgotten to ask for a towel. Luckily, the vapour floating through the bathroom kept you warm, but it wouldn’t be long before it dissipated.

Mingi was busy watching the noodles boil, his mind distracted with sound of your laugh. Your giggle remained imprinted in his brain like a song playing on repeat. Mingi sighed; he was in too deep. Subconscious joy painted a fond smile on his lips; he realized he probably looked quite ridiculous grinning at a pot of boiling noodles. Out of the blue, he heard you calling his name from the shower. He wasn’t sure why, but he instantly panicked upon hearing your distressed tone. Is she okay? Did she slip? Is there a spider on the wall or something? (He’d never admit it, but Mingi hoped it wasn’t the latter because he’s scared of spiders too.)

“Everything alright?” he asked from outside the bathroom door.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just forgot a towel,” you admitted.

“O-oh,” his face flushed as he sped over to the closet where he kept clean towels. He opened the bathroom door enough to fit his torso through and bashfully looked away– he knew you were behind the shower curtain, but he was having an emotional overload just from knowing you were even in his shower. It was best he looked away before having another issue to take care of. You dried off quickly, no longer being able to stand the angry rumble of your stomach. Mingi’s clothes were large, so they just barely clung to you– you were quite worried that they may slip off –but they would do for now.

You walked out towards the living room with your wet clothes in hand and laid them over your bag to dry. Mingi, as he set the pot of hot ramen on his small dining table, tilted his head to see you. Oh, wow. He knew his clothes would look big on you, but at this point, you weren’t wearing the clothes– the clothes were wearing you. He chuckled before he could stop himself. It was clear to you why he was laughing, or rather, who he was laughing at.

“Hey!” you put your fists on your hips, trying not to giggle. You knew how ridiculous you looked.

“What?” he looked at you, failing to hide the smirk tugging at his lips.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you purposefully pouted and whined, hoping to fluster him.

“Who says I’m laughing at you?”

“You think I look silly.”

“No, I think you look cute. Now let’s eat.”

Cute? Your playful demeanour ebbed away as you processed the compliment. Mingi looked you straight in the eyes, knowing what he was doing to you. He leaned back in his chair, putting his toned thighs in full view. “C'mon, take a seat.” He shifted his thighs emphatically.

You nearly choked at his words; your mind went places it shouldn’t. Mingi grinned in satisfaction upon seeing your cheeks burn red, and gestured towards the seat in front of him.

“The noodles are gonna get cold…” he teased.

You were shy all over again, feeling embarrassed for assuming he meant for you to sit in his lap. A little wishful thinking never hurt. You skittered over to the chair across from him and went straight for the noodles.

For nearly an hour, you both ate and drank as you talked about work, friends, everything in between. Your conversation never fizzled out, and you learned that Mingi was a lot softer than he seemed. The pot was now empty, except for some stray noodles, and both your stomachs were fit to burst. Post-dinner fatigue started settling in; your body begged for you to rest after ingesting so much food. Mingi put away the dishes, earning a “thank you” from you in return. He suggested you watch a movie, unless you wanted to head to bed already.

“No, no, I’m fine. A movie sounds good,” you assured him.

“Any specific genre?”

“Nope.”

Mingi settled to watch a movie called Ponyo with you, claiming it to be the “best fucking movie on earth.” You sat crisscrossed on the couch, next to Mingi who settled his feet on the edge of the coffee table and spread his arms over the top of the couch. You grabbed the blanket he gave you earlier and wrapped yourself in it, nuzzling your cheek into the soft fabric. Not even half an hour into the movie, you eyelids drooped tiredly, your head falling forward every now and then. Mingi spotted your head nodding forwards out of the corner of his eye, but stayed quiet anyway. A couple of minutes later, he felt your weight against his arm, only to find that you’d fallen asleep. He observed your sleeping form tenderly and noted that you were a soft snorer. Before you could lose your balance and fall forwards, he turned you with one hand and cradled your head with the other, settling your head in his lap. He brushed the hair off your face, unconsciously patting your head in soothingly slow motions. Mingi’s own eyelids started to feel heavy as well, his hand moving in increasingly slow movements.

He could only think of one thing before he fell asleep as he stared at your face snuggled in his lap, and his lips moved on their own accord before he could control himself.

“I really, really like you, you know that?” he whispered lovingly. His hand stopped its movements on your hair when he noticed the corners of your lips lift in an affectionate grin. (Mingi never noticed, but you’d woken up as soon as you head hit his thigh.) You nuzzled closer into him and wrapped your arms around his middle, feeling warm as ever. Well, I know now.

#kdiner #ateez fanfic #ateez scenario #ateez #ateez mingi #mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #song mini fanfic #ateez timestamp #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #kpop #ateez imagines #mingi fluff #atiny #ateez song mingi #ateez smut

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alighieri-sparda · 3 years

Text

A stinky devil and bath thoughts | Vergil x M!Reader

Summary: Vergil is all yours again. You decide to give him a relaxing bath to ease his mind — and get rid of that stinky smell of demonic creatures after a few months in Hell.

Masterlist | Rules | A simple gift for @mooshs-crack-headcanons

Happy birthday! And this time, with the real gift. xD I hope you enjoy this fluffy piece I wrote for you. I wish I could give you something better, but that’s what I got :’D You deserve only the best, Paul. You know it.~

It’s important to mention that I got the most of inspiration for this work from the ‘Washing a Devil’ series by Chrome, specially from this particular chapter. So, please, if you guys haven’t read it yet, please do! It’s really lovely.

Lots of a passionate Vergil under the cut.

- - - - - -

Vergil is finally back. Back to the place he could always call home, the safest spot in the world for him: your gentle and comfortable arms. Vergil is finally back. Back to the place he could always call home, the safest spot in the world for him: your gentle and comfortable arms.

When he crossed the front door of your house, the first thing you did before saying anything was holding him closely, kissing those soft lips of his you missed after several months without his presence. Vergil is your safe spot as much as you are his, and now you both feel complete.

However, something started to bother both of you when you separated the kiss: the smell of demon guts and sweat was not the most welcoming in the world. You didn’t mention it at first, but Vergil quickly realized how unfortunate this condition would be for you both and suggested to take a bath before doing anything else.

“Let me wash you then.” You smiled, your words sounded so pure and heartwarming to the half demon’s ears that he couldn’t help smiling as well.

[...]

You slide your hands down Vergil’s strong arms, taking the collar of his coat as a starting point to make his black piece of cloth fall on the floor. Then, you go to his buttoned shirt, unfastening it at a gentle pace. Your eyes gradually catch the sight of his torso as the shirt is unbuttoned, and you can’t stop admiring how gorgeous this man looks even so stinky and dirty.

The man under your touch observes your actions in a calm state of mind which he hadn’t seen himself feeling in years. You had been waiting for him for months straight, and yet you don’t hesitate in slowing things down just to admire his presence, enjoying every inch of his body and every spectrum of his personality. A tranquil gaze rests on his eyes because he knows he’s safe with you. There’s no need to rush things.

Once the last button is finally unclasped, you let it fall over his arms, letting it join his coat on the floor. Vergil looks almost ashamed of looking like that; his torso is all grimy, even supposedly protected by his layers of clothes. You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all. The smile that draws onto your lips evidences your actual enjoyment of that situation.

“How can you smile at this filthy situation of mine?” Vergil chuckles when he notices the happy tilt of your lips.

“Because I’m about to have a lot of fun washing you.” You explain, visibly excited for what is going to happen next.

Vergil sighs as he watches your hands go to his belt and undo it in a blink of an eye, throwing it out of his waistband just as rapidly as you ease the grip of his pants around his hips. You welcome his relieved reactions with a kiss on his cheek.

“You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking at your playful expression.

“How couldn’t I enjoy you, Vergil?” You say as your fingers hook the waistband of his pants and his underwear at the same time, pulling them down in one single movement. He suddenly gets exposed, and it scares him a little bit. Even if it’s under your sight.

Instead of grinning back at Vergil’s perceptible shudder, however, you only smile softly, comforting him.

“Now let’s get you cleaned.”

Then you kiss his cheek again, encouraging him to keep going with that. It isn’t like he wasn’t enjoying it though.

In a few steps, Vergil sits in the bathtub previously prepared by you with a medium warm water level. He lets a heavy breath out of his lungs when he starts feeling cleansed after months stinking like demonic corpses. The smell is really not good, but you ignore it as much as you can. It’s not his fault anyway.

You turn the faucet that indicates hot water while bringing the bottle of shampoo and soap closer to your reach with your other hand. The sound of water falling and mixing with the one already in the bathtub fills the bathroom. When the water level rises enough, you turn off the faucet.

In the meantime, Vergil has closed his eyes, taking the opportunity to relax his muscles and enjoy being under your care again. The sweet smell of the soap and shampoo already enters his nostrils; he exhales at the good sensation being intensified by his temporary privation of sight. Then, he groans satisfied when the hot water suddenly falls on his scalp. Vergil wasn’t really paying much attention to the sounds around him.

Once you sit beside the bathtub, you pay attention to his head and face firstly. You let the water do the primary and simpler work as you gently rub your fingertips all over his face, cleansing the dirt stuck to his skin and some thin lines of dried blood all over his cheeks, jawline, and nose bridge. He leans his head back at your personal touch, sighing quietly.

“You look so beautiful.” You whisper unconsciously.

Vergil doesn’t seem to notice your compliment. His eyes are still closed and his chest slowly moves up and down. You can tell he’s enjoying it.

After you’re done cleaning his face, your hands now reach his neck and shoulders. This time, instead of just rubbing only your fingertips on his skin, you use your entire palm to massage and cleanse the superficial dirt at the same time. Vergil’s muscles get a little tensioned when you first touch them, but he quickly relaxes them again against your gentle touch. Another satisfied groan says it all.

“I thought you wouldn’t accept me back, [Name].” He suddenly says, blinking slowly his eyes and looking at you after some time. “When Dante and I came back, I’ve already started to think that I would have to live with my brother. And I almost locked myself back in Hell again.”

You chuckle while you don’t stop the movements on his shoulders.

“I’d never let you do it to yourself, Vergil,” You giggle. Now, you take the shampoo bottle in your hands and squeeze it, letting a generous amount of shampoo fall on Vergil’s hair. Putting it back in place, your fingers finally run through his strands of hair, massaging and scouring his scalp. “Besides, being stuck in Hell wasn’t your fault. It’d be unfair not accepting you back.”

“Well… It actually was.” He answers in a more serious tone. “The Qliphoth only raised under my command, due to my uncontrollable pursuit of power. I don’t even deserve to be here, to begin with.”

Your fingers stop the massage for a while. One of your hands now touches the back of his neck as the other one gently fondles his cheek.

“But now it is in the past. You’ve certainly made mistakes through your path, everyone does at some point, but you’re here with me now. And that’s the only thing that matters.” You whisper. Unlike the past two times, now you prefer to kiss his soft lips instead of his cheek. A comforting peck to remind him how important he is to you. To remember he’s safe now.

You slide your hands over his damp skin, putting them back on his scalp once more. Vergil just sighs, clearly affected by your lovely words.

The grunts of satisfaction that Vergil lets out while you clean his hair make you want to stay that way forever, just listening to the sounds of his satisfaction as you enjoy the caress that you know he likes best, but you have more work to do.

That being said, you finally wash the shampoo away from his scalp, still massaging it to be sure you cleaned it completely. While your hands do the cleansing part, you observe Vergil’s expression again: he’s just like he was before talking to you, eyes closed and relaxed face. Another unconscious smile draws onto your lips.

Your intention with all this is not only to clean him but also make him relax as much as you can. Because of that, you soap your hands and massage the skin of his face, neck, and shoulders with the soap that remains on your palms instead of scrubbing it directly on his body. Vergil visibly appreciates your action, taking a short breath as he feels the good smell of the soap purifying his body.

“[Name],” He mumbles your name suddenly. Probably asking for your attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you recall a tattooed man knocking on your door sometime before the incident?”

You can’t help but smile when you listen to his words. His point is already clear for you.

“Yeah, I do.” You answer as you keep your hand movements. Your fingers are now finishing up his shoulders area, just taking the opportunity to relieve the tension that remains in his muscles. “I almost couldn’t believe it when he said he was you.”

“But I knew you would do so.” A gentle smile crossed his face. “Besides thinking about my family, when I saw myself that incomplete, another important thought crossed my mind: checking if you were doing well. If my lack of presence didn’t put you into any dangerous situations.”

He searched one of your soaped hands, kissing the back of it.

“I wanted to kiss you so much on that day. But you would fairly refuse my request.”

“Thanks for being aware of it,” You chuckle, embracing his shoulders even outside of the bathtub. “But I need to confess that seeing you as a smaller and more fragile man than me was a lovely sight.”

“Oh, you think so?” This time, the smile on his lips gets a more teasing tone. “How cute. But, honestly, I prefer to see you like the pretty fragile man here.”

“I know that.” You giggle in response. Then, you leave the embrace to catch the soap once more while you move your gaze all around the bathtub, looking for a good spot to position yourself for the next step of the bath. “Now I need to wash the rest of your body, but I can’t find any good position to do it.”

“Allow me to facilitate the things for you then.”

When Vergil says this, you first think that he would reposition his body in the bathtub to make your work easier somehow — and he did move, but not with the intentions you thought he would have. There is no time for you to react: in the blink of an eye, Vergil pulls you into the bathtub. You would be impressed, but Vergil is a half-demon after all. He always has at least a little bit of strength guarded in case he needs it.

“Hey--!” You even try to scold him, but it is in vain. When you come to your senses, you’re sitting on his lap, and your clothes are now sticking to your skin due to their soaking. When did he get that cheeky?

“So, is it better for you now?” You haven’t seen that playful grin in months. Although the situation is not the most satisfying in the world now — soaked clothes are not comfortable at all —, you can’t complain about it. It only shows you how much he missed your presence.

“You…!” The laugh that comes up to your throat can’t be helped at all. “Jeez, you could have asked me for a shared bath before!” You didn’t mean to have one, but if that’s what he wants, now you have no choice but to give it to him.

“Stop complaining and take off these soaked clothes.”

He didn’t even need to ask you this, to begin with. You don’t get out of the bathtub to take them off, just getting rid of them quickly and then throwing them to the same point where Vergil’s clothes were left before.

Once you are completely bare, Vergil gives you no time to react again: he kisses your lips passionately as he lets his hands explore your body freely; his smooth yet audacious hands make your body shiver in surprise, feeling his fingertips reach your chest, back and then your waist, the place he rests his arms around when you separate the kiss.

“I missed you.” He whispers against your lips, holding you even closer as you embrace his shoulders once more, but this time it feels a lot better. Vergil has never been this talkative before, even with you, so this sentence of his is already proved to you due to his previous attitudes.

You whisper as sincerely as he did: “I missed you too.”

Vergil slowly puts himself back in his previous position, forcing you to break that embrace. His gaze follows your body up and down as he comforts your legs across his lap.

“Now you can finish your work.” He smiles at you softly.

The next couple of minutes are all about you doing to his chest, back and arms the same as you did previously, gently removing the superficial dirt with your fingers, letting the water help you with that. Your touches keep the intimate intention by massaging his muscles and cleansing them with the soap in your palms as a happy smile crosses your face every time you hear a satisfied or relaxed hum coming from him.

Although the relaxation you provided him during this whole process, you notice that Vergil is still awake when you announce that you’re done with his bath. He blinks slowly after minutes straight with his eyes closed, looking directly at you again.

Before he can say anything, it’s now your turn to surprise him with a kiss. Vergil looks so adorable under your care, with his guard completely off and heart opened, just for you.

“You smell so good now.” You giggle against his lips after this last kiss.

“Thanks to you, of course.” He winks.

“Listen, I could stay like that with you all night long, but I prefer our bedroom to do so.” You slowly get out of the bathtub, taking the towel in your hands on your way. “You can get up now. I’ll just get some dry and clean clothes for us both.”

Once you’re standing beside the bathtub and move your body to go to your bedroom, a strong hand grabs your wrist, stopping you where you are.

“I surely can leave the bathtub. But I need to do something before wearing any clothes.”

Your night is far away from finishing there because Vergil did miss you. In all of your ways.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc imagines #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry x reader #dmc vergil #vergil x reader

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katzkinder · 3 years

Text

Pomegranate Seeds, Give My Life To Thee

“This is so troublesome I could just die.”

“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”

Mahiru hates the way his Servamp talks.

There were a number of things Mahiru disliked about Kuro.

Getting oil on the controllers, leaving crumbs and empty chip bags behind, forgetting to take stuff out of his pockets before chucking his dirty laundry into the bin, not managing to make the dirty laundry get to the bin at all, and most annoying was certainly Kuro’s habit of snacking just before meal times.

But these were all small things. Minor things. Things that Kuro had, he had to admit, improved upon since they had begun living together. The sort of things you’d expect from someone who had essentially lived for who knows how long as a bachelor (he thinks? He’s still honestly not sure on just what kind of relationship Kuro and Gear had had in the past. Thinking too hard on it made his heart twist) and then however many decades as a homeless bum. And he was proud of him! Of course he was.

These were things he could overlook. Easily help Kuro improve on. Nag him into submission about, though the housewife and “yes mommy” jokes were getting stale. But there were some things, some habits, some phrases… He just couldn’t stand. And it ate at him.

“This is so troublesome I could just die.”

“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”

“Who cares? I’m immortal.”

“I do.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and Kuro blinked up at him, lackadaisical in even his surprise at how… Firmly it had come out. The bag of chips, once full of empty calories and now empty itself thanks to the Servamp’s habitual snacking, crinkled noisily in the still air. The burgeoning argument over Kuro’s dietary habits had come to a halt before it even really started, yet somehow Mahiru felt as if it would have been better, simpler to just let it play out like usual.

Mahiru couldn’t find it in him to care. Not when all these bubbling, festering, unpleasant feelings were reaching a boiling point over such a tiny phrase.

He swallowed, Kuro’s eyes flicking down momentarily to track the motion in his throat, then back to his eyes, and Mahiru felt another pang, along with another stroke of anger that quickly cooled to simmering annoyance.

“You’re starving yourself again, aren’t you?”

Kuro broke their impromptu staring contest at the accusation, gaze drifting somewhere else, anywhere else in the tiny apartment living room as he literally turned his back on his Eve, returning to the safe, artificial light and colorful world of his handheld.

“I was literally just eating chips,” he mumbled, all the petulance of a child who knows they are guilty in his drawled words. He scooched the empty bag closer to himself, posture practically screaming that he wanted Mahiru to let it alone, let the sleeping lion lie.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“... Why does it matter? It’s not like there’s any danger here. I’m fine. I’m-”

“Yes! I get it! You’re immortal! But... that’s not the problem!”

He was also not very fond of the way Kuro never wanted to address anything until things were nearly as a breaking point.

The heat in his chest was back, along with a bit of bitter satisfaction at the way his outburst had made Kuro turn to really look at him. But then his partner was standing, and the look on his face was so full of concern, gingerly taking the laundry basket from Mahiru’s hands and setting it aside so that they could stand face to face and Mahiru resisted the urge to bow his head in shame. The vampire caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it in a way that worried Mahiru.

A gentle thumb just below it made Kuro freeze, sanguine eyes widening ever so slightly when Mahiru carefully pulled it free, voice uncharacteristically gentle for his scolding.

“Stop that. You’ll make yourself bleed.”

“... Sorry. Didn’t even realize I was doing it…”

“That seems to be a running theme with you.” Mahiru winced ever so slightly at the harsher than he’d meant wording, but Kuro didn’t seem to mind. Or, at the least, was too concerned with other matters to mind at the moment.

“Mahi…” Kuro’s voice had taken on that softer, more raspy quality that Mahiru recognized as sincerity, and coupled with the nickname, he couldn’t help but soften just a bit more himself. “I…” Another pause, Kuro moving to take his lip between his teeth again but managing to stop himself. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, and Mahiru reached for it, carefully interlocking their hands. “What is the problem, then? This… Isn’t just about the blood, is it?”

Biting down a snarky comment, Mahiru replied, “No, it’s not,” gripping the larger hand in his own more securely, knowing far too well that Kuro was liable to bolt. He’d been getting better about that, too, but his issues with taking blood were particularly touchy for him, he’d found. He hoped that, one day, the other would be able to be candid about it with him. To tell him the why and the how. Until then, though... It was better safe than sorry. “But if you keep it up I’ll start hiding it in your food like a cat who won’t take his pills.” Kuro snorted, relief making his shoulders sag and stiff posture unwind. If Mahiru was joking, it wasn’t that serious. He hoped. “So? What gives. Talk to me. It’s not like you to just… Suddenly explode like that.”

It was Mahiru’s turn to look guilty, staring at their joined hands and Kuro’s pale, almost translucent skin. There was the faintest scar on the webbing of his thumb, and his nails were getting long again. He’d have to trim them for him soon. The vampire, he’d found, was prone to either chewing them down to the quick or clipping them too short. It was simpler to do it for him, and had become part of the routine of their lives. He didn’t mind it. Enjoyed it, even, if only for the excuse it gave him to hold Kuro’s hand, admire his long, elegant fingers and the difference between them and his own sun kissed ones smattered with freckles.

“Would you believe me if I said I don’t even know where to start?”

A finger at his chin, lifting his gaze back to Kuro’s, red, red eyes focused on him and so, so worried.

Why can’t you worry about yourself like that?

“Keep it simple, then.”

Having his own life motto parroted back to him, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. Of course. Simple was best. And simply thinking… He just needed to say what he felt.

“Earlier, what you said…" he began, words slowly picking up steam as he found his voice again, found his thoughts again, "About how you don’t really care, because you’re immortal? It kinda... Pissed me off.”

A stunned look, Kuro once again blinking owlishly at him, no doubt thrown for a loop by the rare swear dropping from the Eve's lips. “O… kay? I won’t… Say it anymore?”

Still missing the point, huh?

How did he ever end up with such a dumbass vampire?

Mahiru extricated his hand, instead cupping Kuro’s face, ensuring that the vampire of Sloth had no choice but to look him in the eye as he spoke. “Just because you’re immortal, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself. In fact, when you don’t, it… It hurts! It hurts a lot. Because you’re important to me. Because I care about you. And I hate seeing you suffer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh." The words were coming faster now, louder, more desperate, as if this were somehow his only chance to get them all out and he couldn't stop himself if he tried. Didn't want to, because holding it in was so much more painful. "And not just that, either! When you say things like you want to kill yourself, or that you want to die, or that it’s fine that you got hurt… I hate those too! I really, really, hate it...”

His voice cracked on the last word, embarrassingly so, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at all, not when Kuro had a dawning look of realization, not when halting hands were reaching for him as the Servamp’s face twisted with contrite, not when he really, really wanted the hug that was being sort of half offered to him. He stepped forward, let Kuro embrace him, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs and all that awfulness he had been hoarding with it. He really... Wasn't okay at all, was he?

“It scares me… And I’m sorry I got mad at you-”

“I’m sorry, too. For not… Noticing that it bothered you so much.”

“... I mean. I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’m… Kind of really good at hiding when something is bugging me. To be honest…” He snuggled closer into Kuro’s chest, shut his eyes and breathed deep, that mixture of misty mornings and his body wash because of course Kuro was too lazy to pick out his own, all layered over the subtle metallic tang that seemed to cling to every vampire he met. It was soothing. It felt like home, and safety, the same but different as his uncle. Like everything would be okay, if only he just stayed right where he was. “I don’t think I even realized how badly it bothered me myself until just now…”

Kuro hummed, Mahiru feeling the vibrations under his ear and against his cheek. “That seems to be a running theme with you.”

“Ass.” A light thwack to his shoulder, Kuro releasing a little puff of amusement.

“My bad. Couldn’t resist. We’re both… Pretty similar, huh…?”

“I guess so. Who would have thought?”

A pat or two to his back and Kuro drew away, Mahiru reluctantly letting him go. “I’ll clean up my mess, and, um, once I’m done…” The human blinked, head tilting curiously when Kuro cleared his throat, scratched at his cheek. It could sorely use some color. “Maybe we can figure out an, uh… Feeding schedule? Or something?” He gave a helpless sort of half shrug, quickly dropping it when all he got in return was a blank stare. “Sorry, forget it, dumb idea, just thought it would, like, help or something. I dunno-”

“No!” Kuro jumped at his shout, his anxious rambling cutting off and replaced instead with anxious finger fidgeting, clenching and unclenching his hands while Mahiru rapidly moved to reassure him. “No, feeding schedule is great! In fact, let me get a marker for the calendar and my phone while you do that.”

It was a small thing. A minor thing. Something that shouldn’t even be a problem to begin with. But it was a step towards getting Kuro to take proper care of himself. To value himself. Even if he was only suggesting it to comfort his Eve…

Mahiru tried and failed to hold down the amused little smile sprouting when he sighted the red at the tips of Kuro’s ears, quickly padding out the living room and leaving Kuro to his task, and the dirty laundry in its basket in the middle of the otherwise clear space.

No matter what the reason, it was a step in the right direction. For the both of them.

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #mahiru shirota #servamp kuro #pawprints #i'm supposed to be working on a billion other things #instead im writing a oneshot in one sitting because i had a need #a need for kuromahi #also this had two drafts because i edited the original on my google docs and #the editing didn't #stick #pain #suffering even

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the-sunshine-dims · 3 years

Text

Amnesia rewrite!

i remember how much i loved writing the amnesia series and once i realized i was coming up on my 100th fic i realized what fic would be better to my 100th then an amnesia rewrite!

ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7

original fic

words: 1,411

ao3

contents and warning: blood, blood loss, injury, angst, hurt/comfort, roman helps, amnesia, hurt janus, grieving, crying,

summary: Janus got hurt and cant remember anything up to a certain point, which means he doesn't remember the split of creativity, or their names getting revealed, and a lot else, and during Janus having amnesia there's a lot of healing, and not only from him.

or Janus somehow stumbled into the imagination, got amnesia, and now there's angst and hurt/comfort, maybe even fluff

____

Janus stumbled out of the foresty wilderness-clad imagination, not remembering much, and not remembering just how much he’d forgotten, not even remembering how he had ended up in imagination, he did remember a couple things, even if they were a couple of the simpler things, such as, he was Thomas’s “deceitful” trait, he was also Thomas’s “self preservation” though that was just a fancy word for Janus protected thomas.

and another thing he knew was that the blood splatter that had gotten in his hair and was soaking through his shirt was very not good.

But some things he didn’t know were possibly some of the most important things, such as the painful split of king creativity, and the painful memories of being locked away with the label of “darksides” and “snake tricking thomas into sinning”, and everyone telling thomas their names.

But, currently it didn’t matter what he remembered, he had to clean himself up and figure out if all of the blood was his ..or someone else’s, or both, and he had to figure out if it was better if it was his or someone else’s.

He tried his best to take a deep breath, hoping it would help the painful headache he had go away, but it just came out shaky and it helped none, so with nothing else to do he just tried his best to get back to his room, after getting a quarter way to where he thought it would be he had to begin leaning on the wall, feeling faint, before trying his best to continue.

But when he reached the first open room he’s seen he didn’t recognize it, maybe morality just got bored and redecorated? He didn’t know.

Once he enters, for a minute all he wants is to stay there, it’s warm, and just bright enough to be the perfect place to take a nap, like Thomas’s grandma's living room, with the big windows facing the couch, just so comfortable of an atmosphere, he shakes his head at himself ignoring the immediate flare of pain it causes, he needs to get to his room, then he can wash up and take a nap, he just needs to wait to find his room.

He sighs about to try and leave and hope to not get more lost,

Then he saw them.

A side, a side he’s never seen before, sitting on one of the armchairs and staring at him like with a vigilante- almost annoyed gaze

They were a taller side, outfit almost like a prince, with a bright red sash, maybe they were a new side? Maybe something to do with inspiration? Or something else creative? That would explain the similarities to creativity, Regardless though even if they weren't something to do with creative stuff janus was sure creativity would like them, creativity liked everyone.

And while Janus was partially confused because he was having a kinda hard time processing he still was about to go make a move to greet the new side.

That was until the side snapped out “deceit.” Sounding annoyed. Making his blood go cold, and his eyes widened and everything in him filled with self preservation in a single moment because how did he know his trait this was a new side how did he know.

Suddenly the blood that’s made his already dark clothes darker and long since dried on his hair is overly noticeable now and he feels like he should flee as his gaze flicks across the entire room in an instant looking for possible exits.

He took a unnoticeable steadying breath before going “who- who are you?” He asks, almost hissing under his breath at just how shaky it was, he’s supposed to be strong to protect Thomas! Not shaky just because someone he didn’t know, knew something as simple as one of his traits.

The side seemed startled by the question, several unnamed emotions flitting across his face in a couple moments before it settled on base level confusion as Janus began looking around the room again, nervousness evolving slightly when he realized nothing was the same, the couch was moved along with the coffee table and the everything else he didn’t even think the framed photos were in the same place-

Then he saw a particular photo, it had morality, logic, anxiety (though he’s changed a lot), and this side.

Then he looked at the other photos and he noticed a particular lack of someone.

Creativity

and the more he looked there wasn’t any trace of him, no left out art supplies, no hand-crafted pillows, nothing.

He snapped his head back to this side and desperately asked “where’s creativity?” He really hoped that the sides were just pulling a mean and really badly timed prank.

This side is slowly destroying that hope when he looks absolutely startled by that and instead of- well anything, he just confusedly goes “..I’m creativity?”

Janus’s hands begin shaking aggressively after he’s processed the information, and suddenly he felt really overwhelmed “no- no no that’s not possible! You- you’re not creativity! He’s tall and he- he always has this big goofy grin! He- and he has this cape he made himself though it’s pretty much just a blanket wrapped around his shoulders!-“ tears had been spilling from his eyes as he went on, beginning to hold his shaky form with his shaky arms, and beginning to retract into himself “and- and he has fake roses on hand at all time despite- despite him knowing they get caught in his shirt everytime- and- he's not gone! I was just here and he and logic were trying to build a puzzle! He-“ he hiccuped “he was just here..” he sobbed, not meeting this ‘creativity’’s eyes and just staring at the floor instead though he couldn't see anything beyond vague shapes.

There was a long uncomfortable silence as Janus tried to breathe before the person spoke “creativity.. was split into me and my brother.. don’t you remember?”

Janus looked up at him and just shook his head sorrowfully before taking a big breath and trying his best to speak though it just came out as a quiet “no..” so quiet Roman almost didn’t hear it.

Janus wanted to go home.

He looked at the floor again, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact and not cry.. again.

That was until he felt a small tug on his shirt sleeve and the side was looking at him so concerned and he didn’t say anything but he backed away just a tiny bit and opened up his arms in a clear invitation, one which Janus immediately took up, catapulting himself into his arms and just.. sobbing.

Roman tried, if somewhat stiffly to comfort him, using his spare arm that wasn't wrapped around Janus to try and brush through Janus’s hair, that was what patton did when they were upset.

Or that was the plan, instead he felt a weird dry patch in Janus’s hair and when he looked closer it was dark red, he froze, knowing that the only real option for what it was was dried blood since he didn’t suppose Janus was the type to randomly dye his hair red and decide not too, a quarter way through, so he took a breath before beginning to speak “okay, umm, you're kinda bleeding, and I don’t think I would know how to care for whatever injury caused the bleeding properly so.. I think it would be best to go to Logan.”

Janus seemed half conscious because he just slowly blinked, trying to see if he somehow knew the name somehow, and after a minute Roman realized Janus didn't recognize the name so he explained “Logic, not long ago with the rest of us, shared his name with us, which is Logan,” he told him, and deciding it might be good to tell him more he just slowly went “you did too, you told us your name was Janus.”

Janus hummed, taking the information and processing it slowly, his fatigue and exhaustion finally affecting him, eventually he nodded to himself and with that Roman decided Janus wouldn’t be physically or emotionally fit to walk with him to Logan's room safely. so he carefully and slowly picked Janus up, half expecting some fight but instead Janus just practically curled up against his chest, his head beginning to loll in in a single moment.

And then Roman was off to Logan's Room.

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pparkerpoetry · 3 years

Text

Face Reality (Part 8)

Title: A Touch Too Close to Insanity (and the comfort of a family written in the stars)

Summary: The castle has fallen and so have the skies, but which one of them is the Atlas that keeps it up? Is it the traveler, who carries the burden of what was undone but is forever in his mind, or is it the one that, without, the world would have ended in fire long ago?

or, Ranboo picks up more strays. (ft. family fluff)

- Chapter One - Chapter Nine

Masterlist

So, Ranboo did his best to make sure that no one was alone for long. He could tell when people needed longer to gather their thoughts, but he made sure to intervene before they spiraled. He made sure to intervene before it was too late.

_______________

Ranboo didn’t like being alone. He doubted anyone else truly did, either. They might seek out a space of their own, they might avoid contact for a day, but in the end, they came back. The thing was, after all they’d been through, the line between alone and lonely was growing as thin as the good graces of the gods.

Sometimes this extended to people outside of his family, and sometimes, he was late. Not too late, but certainly overdue.

The sun was shining, and Ranboo had woken up with restless limbs. He needed to leave his room, he needed to leave this little hole in the wall. Not permanently, just for a break.

After he yelled out a goodbye to Sam and was answered back several times over, Ranboo took a stroll down memory lane in the form of a thin wood path that was worn and old. There were places where he had to step over rotting planks, and he didn’t entirely trust it, but the buildings that lined it brought him to a different time. He’d changed since then, so had his surroundings, and though he was happy, a part of him wished for simpler times.

Were they simple? Or was his mind just lying to him? He wasn’t sure anymore.

Ranboo paused at the end of a giant crater, the huge flag set at the bottom still waving. He managed a weak smile, and thought of the times that he hadn’t been a part of. Did the others miss those times? Or was his mind just coming up with reasons to pity himself? He wasn’t sure. He never had been.

He turned when his eyes started watering with the tears he’d never shed back then, and his eyes landed on a castle. The castle, he supposed. Eret’s. The beacons had long since stopped shining, and the walls were crumbling. No maintenance had been kept up, and it showed. It really was a shame that such a beautiful thing had fallen, but so seemed the theme of this story.

His legs moved without him telling them to, bringing him to the entrance. He walked past the towers that once had stood tall and proud, but now bowed to the power of wind and rain. The staircase that brought him to the castle was full of loose stones, and the grass was overgrown. He frowned at the state it was in. Hadn’t Eret been looking after it?

There were holes in the structure, as if there had been smaller explosions, or maybe just a really strong fist. Anger can change people.

Eyebrows furrowing, he raised a fist to knock on the door. Maybe someone was there.

The door swung open when he brought his hand down. A wave of dust flew into the air, making him cough. When he recovered from his coughing fit, he continued down the hall to the throne room, feeling as if he was intruding.

All signs should’ve pointed to something. That something was wrong, not completely conforming to the rest of the narrative.

Footsteps in the dust that was so thick they could only be recent. Dried drops of red on the stone. The lack of wildlife in the building when the entrance was open. And, if he listened hard enough, the ragged breath that could only be that of an injured human.

It took a while for Ranboo’s eyes to adjust to the darkness of the throne room. In the pitch black, he could almost see the ghosts of the memories running through the halls, laughter and chatter filling them with painful reminders of times that would never return. All he saw, though, was a crumbling throne. And, on top of it, a crumbling king.

“Eret?” He whispered, scared to get closer.

Eret, if that was who it was anymore, looked up. Their breathing was ragged and pained, their voice low and filled with emotion. “Ranboo?”

Ranboo walked closer, even daring to walk up the slight stairs to the throne to put a hand on Eret’s shoulder. “What happened to you?”

“What didn’t?” The laugh that followed was bitter and grateful at the same time. Bitter at what he’d done, grateful that everything had happened to him and not someone else. “Creepers, skeletons, other mobs. Myself. Time. No one cares about me anymore, Ranboo. The castle is dark. Nothing matters anymore. It used to be so beautiful, Ranboo, and now it’s all dark.”

The castle was dark, but as Ranboo looked into Eret’s eyes, it wasn’t the only thing. “What do you mean? Didn’t you get a fresh start after Dream was imprisoned? Tommy and Tubbo forgave you. They did a long time ago, I think.”

Eret let out a laugh that sounded a touch too close to insanity. She was still hunched over the throne that had stopped being a comfort a long time in the past, a curse remaining from times that had faded. “I was forgiven by everyone. Almost, at least. I was forgiven by everyone that mattered, anyway. I was forgiven by them, yes, but not by myself. And now? I pay the price for what I did.”

Ranboo moved closer, and he could see himself in the reflection. Not just in Eret’s tarnished crown, the metal showing his face and his concern. Not just in their eyes, that looked up at him, hopelessly, begging him silently for a reason to stay alive. Not just in their shaking body that brought him back to the panic room, but in his soul. Eret’s soul was dark and unmoving, a flame gone out. A flame that had once burned so bright that it brought the world down with it.

Maybe they weren’t so different, after all.

The hybrid held out his arms and gathered Eret into a hug, tightening it when his body began to shake with the emotion that years in isolation had kept him from showing.

“Tommy and I used to be so close. He’d make these stupid paper crowns that always got ruined in the rain, but he’d run back inside and make more. He followed me around. I like to think that we were like brothers,” Eret’s voice cracked. “But then I went and ruined it, for a title that was never even real in the first place. And then, in Dream’s cavern, he hid behind me first, and I thought that maybe we’d get back what we had. But I saw him with Techno. Sam. Tubbo. He didn’t need me anymore. I thought that he’d need me just as much as I needed him, but when I plunged a knife into his back, he was the one that healed it when I should’ve. He’d grown up without me, and he would never need me back as much as I needed him. It hurt.”

Ranboo hummed, but stopped when his hand hit something damp. He pulled his hand back and to his horror, blood stained the fingertips. “Eret? Are you alright?”

Eret cackled. “I never was, Ranboo. I never was. They all realized that when they stopped visiting, or they would’ve, if they’d bother to check on me. But they didn’t. I was a whisper in an orchestra of tragedy, and no one heard me. Why would they? Some part of me didn’t want their help anyway. It’d just hurt them- no, me- more.”

Ranboo slowly helped Eret up, trying to remain calm. Trying to hold together a facade that Eret would lean on. Trying to help someone that needed his help more than ever.

“C’mon, Eret. Let’s go home.” He walked past the dust, trying to kick up as little of it as possible.

They’d made it pretty far into Sam’s forest before Eret went completely limp. Ranboo tried to not let the panic seep into his bones, but he knew that this was bad. Very, very bad. He set Eret down so that he was peacefully laying on the ground, and he messaged Sam his coordinates.

Hurry. Eret injured.

Sam’s response was swift.

Omw. stay put

It didn’t take long, as Sam was true to his word. Together, they lifted Eret up and managed to get back to Sam’s base, but it took longer than Ranboo would have liked. But then again, he couldn’t be picky.

As much as he wanted to stay, Sam made Ranboo leave the medical room that had been constructed. Sam’s eyes held too much regret to be healthy. Ranboo followed his order.

He walked out to where some of the others were. Tommy and Tubbo immediately went up to him, claiming that Sam had made them stay out of the way and wouldn’t tell them what happened.

“It’s Eret.” Ranboo started, unsure of how they would take the news. “He’s uh… He’s been alone in the castle. Hasn’t forgiven himself for what happened.” He didn’t elaborate, but Tommy and Tubbo got the implication.

Tommy’s feathers fluffed up. “He’s been alone up there? I thought he’d left.” The unspoken ‘me’ at the end of the sentence echoed through the silence. No one had the courage to mention it.

Fundy sniffled. “I- me, too.”

Tommy sat down and put a wing around Fundy, wincing a little at the pull on his feathers, but staying. They stayed that way until Sam came in, hair sweaty and hands suspiciously clean, as if he was hiding something.

When Sam walked in, they stood up, asking if Eret was okay.

“He will be,” Sam started, “but not for a while. His wounds need to heal.” He didn’t mention how deep they were. Physical and mental.

Again, the hidden message was received. They were getting good at family communication, Ranboo mused.

Eret needed a reminder that he was needed, and if he got it in the form of a fox barreling into his chest and a protective wing around his shoulder the minute he was awake, no one mentioned it. They didn’t need to, Eret was already part of the family. Puffy nearly cried the first time she visited to see him. They’d been old friends from lands that had been forgotten in the minds of many, and they missed each other more than they’d care to admit. Even Niki teared up a little, and offered him a room at their house.

Eret was needed, and no matter how long it would take to convince them that it was true, they’d be there. No more would their love be lost to time, fated to be the wisps of a ghost wandering through the hall of a dark, abandoned castle with a crumbling throne.

_______________

Though he might not have realized it, Ranboo was gaining the odd little hobby of adopting strays. They were rarely animals, although there was the occasional bird or cat. But, no, they were mostly humans. Or at least, partially. Fundy, Eret, Purpled. It didn’t stop there, though.

He’d remember the day that he found this particular stray for years after it had passed into the horizon of time, his questions lost to the winds of destiny. Some of them were never answered.

Ranboo had another one of his itchy fits, which he was starting to think of as his sixth sense of someone in need. It’d been pretty accurate so far, but as he found his way to a gently rolling plains biome, there was nothing in sight. No one in sight. His itch had faded, instead replaced with a heavy feeling in his guts, keeping him there.

It was towards dusk when something actually happened. The wind picked up and it got chilly, then cold, then freezing. Ranboo stood up and backed away a little, and if he squinted right, he could’ve sworn that the air was blowing in a circle formation.

It was- there, it was getting clearer.

The colors started next, all purples and blues with hints of green and black. Ranboo realized a beat too late that it looked like a portal and therefore he should get out of the way more- instead, he was thrown down the hill in a tumble by the increasingly strong winds as he barely registered something (someone?) getting pushed out of the portal.

He stopped moving at the bottom of the hill and didn’t even bother getting back up before the winds had gone and all was peaceful again. Then, he climbed the gentle slope again.

He paused when he saw a lump on the peak, and froze more when it turned to look at him.

The brown hair was straggly and grimy, and the eyes told stories that his voice would never bear to tell. Ranboo recognized the hopeless look, but it wouldn’t occur to him until much later that it was the same look that had stared back at him in a water reflection back in the End.

“Karl?” Ranboo asked incredulously.

Karl lay there, too weak to do anything but sigh in relief.

Ranboo waited a moment for Karl to catch his breath before asking another question. “Are you okay?” It seemed the easiest of his questions to answer, but Karl still hesitated.

“I am now.”

If Ranboo was waiting for Karl to elaborate, he didn’t. At least, not then, but he did a bit later when he’d gotten the energy to sit up and look up at Ranboo.

“I’m a time traveler. D’you know that?” Ranboo wordlessly shook his head. It wasn’t the oddest thing to happen to him. “I can’t really control it, though. Not completely. I did what I could, though. Interfere to keep the worst things that might happen from actually happening. And, finally, I’m done. I can rest.”

Ranboo thought about that. “You knew I’d go to the End? Why didn’t you stop me?”

Karl hummed. “I actually didn’t. That’s unique to this timeline, but then again, so is this whole family you’ve got going on. There’s fragments of it across times, but nowhere as full and pure as this one.” Karl tried to look at Ranboo again, but flinched at the gaze of a red eye. “This is the best possible outcome, I think. Even if it has its faults.”

“Do you know what I’m going to do next? How do you know what timeline you’re in?”

Karl looked up at the sky, thinking of a white city and the shining books left there for him. “I just do, uh…”

“Ranboo. My name is Ranboo. I can’t really blame you for forgetting, because it’s me, but… are you sure you’re okay?” The hybrid squinted at the man that still sat on the grass.

The man chuckled. “I like to say so, but… I’m losing myself. I barely remember Quackity, and…” His eyes filled with horror. “Who’s the one with the white headband? The name? Why can’t I remember?”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Ranboo said, sitting down as well. “His name is Sapnap. What else do you not remember?”

So, they sat there until the sun started setting, talking about everything and anything. Ranboo couldn’t help but feel the urge to protect someone who had memory issues like he did, and Karl? Well, Karl knew just what Ranboo had been through and what he would’ve gone through if he hadn’t placed that inconspicuous purple and black book right where Tommy would find it.

They sat there until the stars showed their beauty, because the pair hadn’t had time to just rest and look at the sky in ages. Ranboo looked over eventually. Karl was looking tired, and if Ranboo was a time-traveling superhero, he would be, too.

“We have an extra room, if you want to rest.”

Karl smiled slightly, the lopsided grin looking odd on a face that had only known sadness and grief for so long. “Thanks, but no. I need to find Sapnap and Quackity. They’ve probably been wondering where I am, and I miss them.”

They both stood up and exchanged a hug. Ranboo sighed. “Well, don’t be a stranger. Bring them to visit sometime, too. You’re always welcome.”

They’d be parting there into opposite directions, but Karl paused to say one last thing. “Y’know, Ranboo? You’re the one thing keeping everything together. Without you, this world burned a long time ago.” Ranboo could see the flames in his eyes, and he knew that Karl wouldn’t lie. Not about that. “Just remember that. You’re important.”

With that, the two turned so their backs faced each other, and Ranboo made his way home. Sam was still up, waiting on him like a typical dad or older brother (he really was a mix of the two depending on who it was, wasn’t he?) would.

“Where’ve you been, Ranboo?” It was clear Sam was concerned, even though he could’ve messaged any time.

“I was chatting with Karl. Sorry, we got caught up with the conversation.”

Sam visibly sagged with relief. “Alright. That’s fine, I was just-”

“Worried?” Ranboo teased. “Okay, dad.”

It was said in a joking way, but it was the first of many times. The second person to call Sam their dad wasn’t surprising. It was Tommy, of course, said in the midst of a wing-preening session.

Tommy was purring, for when did he not, when his wings were involved? It just felt so nice-

Fundy laughed as Sam was preening Tommy’s wings. “Look at you! You just melt, awww.” It wasn’t said in a mean way, it was endearing and affectionate.

Tommy managed to get a hand up to flip Fundy off. “Fuck off, fox boy.” This was said a little more maliciously, but there was no heat behind it. Not when the words were slurred with sleep and happiness.

Our favorite enderman hybrid walked in next, and sat down by Sam to help with Tommy’s wings. They all fought over who would help, but no one bothered to take Ranboo’s place. Sam must’ve touched a part that was particularly sensitive, because Tommy leaned into the touch with a ferocity that knocked Sam down.

“Whoa,” Sam said. “That’s new. You’re getting stronger.”

“Of course I am,” Tommy mumbled, “I am a big-” Ranboo touched his wings again.

“A big what?” Ranboo asked, a grin finding its way onto his face.

“A big m-”

Ranboo touched the wings again, and laughed as Tommy trailed off into another purr.

Sam smiled affectionately. “You’re a big softie, that’s what you are, Tommy. All of you guys are.”

While the others tried to protest, Tommy didn’t bother. He just wanted his wings to be touched more. “Only… Only for you, dad.” He leaned back into Sam and promptly fell asleep, and didn’t even wake up when the room laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

They all had a slumber party in the living room that night to watch a movie, and everyone got to take turns preening and petting Tommy’s wings. Eret looked overjoyed to be allowed to touch them, and at the end of it all, Tommy got distressed that he couldn’t cover everyone with his wings, so everyone crammed together so that he could as they watched a movie.

“Whose foot is that, digging into my side?” Fundy asked, poking it.

“Mine, stop.” Ranboo said. Then, “Ow, who's pulling my hair?”

“My bad.” Tubbo said. “I can’t see the screen.”

Sam ducked down. “Sorry.”

Puffy and Niki were fine, cuddling at the edges of Tommy’s wings while Eret was curled into the feathers closer to Tommy. Purpled had been apprehensive about joining the group, but Tommy’s distressed trill had convinced him, so he found himself stretched across everyone as he was the last to join.

And, in the middle of the chaos, Tommy purred loud and contentedly, wings stretched across his family. He radiated warmth, and everyone knew he wasn’t even watching the movie in his cuddly euphoria.

Miles away, there was a house with three others, close and safe. Karl smiled as he watched a fireplace crackle, and he knew that finally, he’d done something right. He was safe, and so was everyone else.

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9worldstales · 3 years

Text

Loki & Thor in “Thor & Loki – Double Trouble” n° 3

It seems I forgot to post my thoughts for “Thor & Loki – Double Trouble” 3 so here they are.

We left the brother falling in a hole. Well, the fall seems to be quite long in an “Alice in Wonderland” fashion and, instead than constantly panicking like Loki seems to do in “Thor: Ragnarok” the two apparently had grown quite comfortable with it, Thor perfectly straight, head down with his arms crossed while Loki seems almost seated, arms crossed behind his head and legs also crossed.

I do wonder which kind of adventures they usually live if they can get comfortable in such a situation.

Anyway, to Loki’s question if Thor has heard something, Thor insists all he could hear is the wind of Loki’s idiocy. Really, it’s worrisome Thor believes Loki is an idiot and yet he insists on playing along with his schemes. As Obi-Wan Kenobi would say ‘Who's the more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him?’

I get why Loki can call himself the smart brother of the two, at least he’s not following the fool.

Anyway Loki dismisses the fact he has maybe heard a voice to ask Thor if he wants to play a game. Really, this Loki is someone who’s desperate for his brother’s attention… in the most terrible way because his way to get it is by being overall terrible.

Thor, you’re the older, you should try teaching him he can have your attention without getting you two in troubles.

Also I’d like to know how to play ‘Rock, hammer, dagger’, which Loki suggests, offering with an enthusiastic smile to even let Thor play first… since Thor turns the offering down saying he won’t give Loki another chance to stab him.

Is it a version of ‘Rock, paper, scissor’, only instead than making hand gesture you literally use them to hit your opponent?

Whatever, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, Loki notices it and as he praises himself for being the smarter… neither of the two attempts to place himself in a position that would make their landing better.

Thor falls straight on his face because for some reasons he moves behind the arms he has raised while Loki falls on his back.

Loki would like to know for how long they had been falling but Thor counters the smart question would be where they landed… to which Loki replies it wasn’t a competition for best questions. I love this Loki. I get Thor might feel like strangling him but I can’t help but love him… though if I were in Thor’s place either I find a way to handle him better or I might consider strangling him as well.

Thor thinks they’re in Jotunheim and proves his point by sniffing a rock. I don’t know what Jotunheim rocks smell like, I didn’t even know they were meant to have a distinctive smell. I though they would be ice shaped as rocks or rocks covered in ice. Whatever, every day you can learn something new, in this case that Thor can recognize Jotunheim by the smell of the rocks.

Loki thinks the orb can bring them back only… to discover he lost it. He’s not happy when Thor points it out. Thor, blaming him for losing the orb and asking him for a solution, tosses the rock away… and it predictably hit someone who was previously concealed from everyone’s sight, who’s clearly big, dangerous, with many friends (which also were concealed from everyone’s sight… really guys, why so many people hidden? And mountain giants, no less! Where you playing ‘hide and seek’?) and not happy to receive a rock on his head.

Meanwhile Loki and Thor argue. Loki claims it was his idea to fall into the tunnel and Thor says he was merely being foolish and using something he didn’t understand to clean up the mess he made and is again avoiding responsibilities and getting him in troubles. Really Thor, if you thought so, WHY DID YOU ENABLE HIM TO DO SO INSTEAD OF STOPPING HIM?

I’ve a younger brother who used to be troublesome, I didn’t use to tell him ‘yeah, go for it’ when he came up with a dumb idea and follow after him with my fingers crossed in hope it didn’t get us killed! You aren’t even tagging along because you want to babysit him, you just let yourself be completely roped by his crazy schemes and then complain if they go predictably wrong…

Also Loki, sweetheart, really, no need to lie when it’s obvious it’s a lie. As the smartest brother don’t do it, unless you enjoy arguing with Thor, which I fear is exactly the point of all this mess. You really have to learn you can get attention from him with better methods, you know?

Anyway while Thor is complaining, completely focused on his own complain Loki notices the giants approaching and tries to warn Thor.

Should I point out I love how Gurihiru, in those four panels manages to give them different expressions and poses while keeping them in the same spot in the image merely having them do a discussion?

But back to the story Thor finally notices they’re surrendered… so he accepts Loki’s suggestions they should just run away.

I love their faces as they realize so!

Though really, this time they don’t attempt to pass for brave.

Loki asks Thor which is the plan, Thor demands to know why he’s in charge of the plan and Loki points out Thor doesn’t like his own plan to which Thor agrees because he claims since Loki is the God of mischief he doesn’t have plans but fiendish plots… while Thor’s plan turns out to just hit people in the teeth with his hammer.

Great plan, Thor… -_- but really, for once Loki is deferring to you and he’s right, you don’t like his plans so why are you complaining he put you in charge of making plans?

As they talk a hammer goes past them and then SHE appears.

The goddness of Thunder. AKA Thor.

Which I’ll call ‘Lady Thor’ from now on, to make things simpler to follow.

What follows are again 4 wonderful panels of the siblings being confused (I love Thor’s expression and Loki tilting his head) before Loki satisfied point out this means they aren’t in Jotunheim and they found another Thor and not another Loki because Lokis are very rare and special...

...and Loki, love, I adore you but, first of all, I think it’s hard to manage with just one of you and second, you’re basically inviting disaster because I just know this means a Loki will show up as well.

But I love you anyway.

Female Thor doesn’t waste her time and starts beating the rock giants, pointing out Thor and Loki could make themselves useful as well.

Thor reminds himself he has a hammer as well and could help. Loki says he was just giving her space and be chivalrous. It’s kind of fun how Loki doesn’t seem to want to fight but when they started fighting he can hold his ground pretty well.

Once they’re done, Loki and Thor introduce themselves to Lady Thor. Loki is polite about it, bowing to her while Thor does so in his own boisterous manner (I love how each of them has his own panel with Lady Thor looking at each of them as they introduce)…

...which pushes Lady Thor to decide there’s not enough space in that universe for two Thors so the two attempts to fight things out before Loki realizes he has the wonderful chance to put not one but TWO Thors at work into one of his crazy competitions to see who’ll be Thor (Christmas has come early for Loki, indeed)…

...and like any true loving brother informs Lady Thor he’s rooting for her, which annoys his own brother.

They still decide to go for a competition that’s not the ‘there can be only one’ Highlander style of competition.

Thor suggests hammer toss, rejected because simple, Lady Loki best lighting strike rejected because subjective so Thor tries again with something involving strength, arm wrestle. Lady Thor, who must be more clever than him pretends to thinks it over, clearly figuring out he suggests competitions based on strength thinking her weak…

...but in the next page we see her effortlessly winning the arm competition.

Thor, who can’t even accept to lose against himself complains arm wrestle is a sport of mortals.

Lady Thor retorts it’s a good thing HE suggested it. Learn take responsibilities for your failures, Thor and be a positive example for Loki. You’re the big brother after all.

Loki points out they can’t go home without solving the small issue of a missing orb, which is their only mean to go back home.

As Lady Thor considers where it could have ended we see that the orb was retrieved by Lady Loki… who’s planning to have lot of fun with it.

Now there’s a long and complicate story with the identity of Lady Thor and Lady Loki in the Marvel universe… but, I wonder if here the case is merely that both Thor and Loki are gender swapped in that universe (if so could be said in regard to Loki…).

So, is Lady Thor Jane, or she’s the female version of Thor and Lady Loki is her sister? Was it her voice what Loki hear while they were falling or someone else is involved? Or there was just no voice?

We’ll discover in the next episode!

Anyway I continue to love this crazy comic. The characters are very expressive and the situations are funny, although a bit predictable. But whatever, Thor and Loki are love and I love this story.

#loki #thor #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #thor and loki double trouble #9 worlds comic study

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jezmmart · 3 years

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Chamomile Comic Trivia #18

#89 Invite

This one explains exactly what was happening in the New Year’s Eve comic from the first year! I came up with Layla and Vi’s New Year’s Eve activities on the spot, although Vi’s was likely influenced by this pre-comic new year’s pin-up of Brianna. Which... was also referenced in the trivia for last year’s comic! Layla’s winter outfit here is an un-witch’d version of her look from this halloween end-of-month pin-up. It was too cute to not make canon.

#90 Endless

A pretty typical relatable situation on this one. The zoomed in shots in the montage all correlate to the final panel, where you can see the full struggle Cammie went through on this zoomed in original resolution version:

3rd time she started to get a little more frustrated with her scribbling out, 4th time she tried to skip the “0″s in the hope that would make things simpler, 5th time she accidentally did 2017 but still corrected it to 2018. 6th time she successfully wrote 2019 and incorrectly corrected it to 2018. This was still within my goal to at least draw 100 comics without a single male character, so even though I felt like giving them an androgynous design, still not a bloke working as the delivery person here!

P.S. If you work retail and get New Year’s Day off, your employer is cooler than mine. Cammie’s comment about them getting New Year’s Day off was just a little flight of fancy for me to enjoy. =‘)

#91 Robberies

A couple of people commented thinking that this was the start of some kind of story arc, but no it was just a dumb joke lol. Sometimes I just get a pun or joke I want to tell that doesn’t fit naturally into a comic scenario so I use them (sparingly!) as quick simple little comics, this being the first of quite a few! It’s the closest thing I get to a week off!

#92 Coffee

To be honest, this never bugs me at work when customers do this because having too much change in the till is always better than too little. But I do wish they’d read the room, look at whether there’s a queue and make a decision on whether now is the time to spring clean their wallet. Vienna has some skill in keeping that stack of pennies intact as she drags it across the counter into her arms. This is also the second ever comic where Cammie doesn’t appear! I guess from this point on that’s no longer really trivia-worthy.

#93 Bag

Essentially a very exaggerated version of a conversation between my wife and I when walking our dog in winter once, which occured shortly after our dog relieved himself. I... I’m poophands.

I like this one so much I always want to include it in the 10-comic sampler on the comic’s new reader page, but I also don’t want people’s first impression of Layla to be... this, lol.

#94 Why

Just a silly little simple cute one that came from me looking up and learning what Brianna educates us on here. My only regret with this comic is that the week after is another “Cammie comes into the café and bothers Brianna” comic, so unless you were there at the time, #95 kind of reads as a continuation of the scene. I made sure to give Cammie a different outfit to make it clear that it’s a different day, but I wonder if that just comes off as a continuity error to late readers rather than a clear display of a new scene, lol.

[More Chamomile Comic Trivia] (Above link may not work correctly on tumblr app)

#jezmm #chamomile comic trivia #art insight

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jazminetoad · 3 years

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In My Reality | Prologue

Hey, I was bored so I decided to start a fanfic series of the Tatsumi Brothers from Juuni Taisen. Yay

It’s a “Tatsumi Brother x Reader” story about how the Tatsumi Brothers enter the reader’s reality which kinda flips her world upside down.

So I just finished the prologue. If you guys like it or if I’m bored again, I’ll make the first chapter. (Click “Keep Reading” to read the story)

"[Name] get out of bed; It's 3 in the afternoon," my mom told me as she came into my room with fresh, clean clothes. I didn't have to look over to know.

Groaning, I removed my mask from my eyes then rolled over to face up at the white ceiling. The sunlight seeping in from the blinds caused my sight to cringe before it finally adjected to the light and I could see the grey walls lurking in the corner of my eyes. Arising from my queen-sized bed a yawn escaped from my mouth. My form reached over and placed my sleep mask on the nightstand, next to my water mug.

"Morning mom," I greeted her as she sorted out the pile of clothes on my dresser. Looks like she did a colour load, which means no pants to put away.

"Morning sweetheart. Can you put your clothes away before you come downstairs?"

"Sure," I simply answered as I slipped out of the cozy sheets I once was tangled in.

"Thank you. I'll see you when you come down," she stated, placing the last of my t-shirts neatly on the others. Afterwards, she wrapped her arms around the remaining clean, clothes that weren't mine, carefully balancing them as she left my room and closed the door behind.

The click of the doorknob echoed into my ears when my feet landed on the fuzzy rug. My eyes drifted their gaze to the plain black bodypillow wrapped in [f/c] blankets, reminding me of a burrito. It just had the colour for the case, no special Anime character on it. I wish there were one though; it'd make the nights seem less lonely to see my favourite character's face on it. However, a pillow is a pillow. Despite me using it as an illusion for myself it doesn't change the reality that when I hug it in my sleep or when I'm awake no arms will return my embrace.

A sigh falls out of my breath, my eyelids dropping in sync. I turned my head away from the lying pillow and dragged myself to the other side of my bed, towards the dresser that patiently held the clean clothes my mom put there. I opened a drawer, putting my undergarments away first then my socks. Once those were put away, I moved to retrieve hangers from my closet, passing by my desk and shelves as I did.

If you were wondering why I slept so late into the afternoon, well, it's currently winter break, so that means I can stay up late and sleep in late past noon. Sadly enough, it's January which means the break almost over, and that means school is standing around the corner, menacingly. Just the thought of it disturbs my mind as that reality tries to infect my thoughts.

I hate reality. I know not all of it is shit, but there's enough of it that makes me want to drown myself in the world of fiction. Whenever it's the weekend or breaks from school, I binge Anime, tv shows, YouTube, and movies, so that's the only thing on my mind. I then write or read fanfiction, there is the rare occasion I sketch something but I'm not good at art since I don't practice enough. By the time I return to reality after having my head stuck in my imagination for so long, I can barely focus without going back to daydreaming. Eventually, that wears off, and then reality is what floods my brain; I despise it but I know I can't be stuck in my fantasies forever. Luckily my friends provide that nice spot in-between for me, helping me stay in the real world but also let me discuss the fictional. Then there's also my bro.

"Yo sis," my brother's voice called from the other side of the door after his fist knocked on it. "You wanna continue Code Geass?"

My bro is the best. Unlike most siblings I know, we actually get along. He's also a big help in my life, one of the reasons why I haven't lost my mind. He makes sure I don't overwork & stress myself and reminds me to have fun and chillax. I love him for it, and he's practically my best friend. We aren't the exact same age but we were born in the same year, just a few months apart so we get to be in the same grade. He's the older one. He's also taller which means he can t-pose over me, and we reenact the meme; it's great.

"Yeah," I answered. "Just let me get ready."

"Alright," he replied before I felt the vibration of his footsteps grow distant from my room.

'Heh, if I had Takeyasu's ability, I'd be able to sense his movement better.'

I chuckle to myself at the thought floating in my mind as I put the final shirt away. My two favourite characters that I desired to be real was the Tatsumi Brothers, Nagayuki and Takeyasu. I love those two. Whenever I watched their episodes from Juuni Taisen, I always smile. They make my heart feel something that I never felt for any character before. I don't want to be cliche and say true love, but to me, that's what it feels like. I know they're fictional characters, so I won't get much out of it, but strangely enough, I'm okay with that. I can't imagine my heart belonging to anyone else. I do wish they were real, though. I even used my wish on the bracelet my friend, Meri-chan, got for my birthday one year, that they'd become real.

The bracelet was some urban legend. It was lime green and had a few beads on it. The legend goes that you make a wish and when the bracelet breaks, your wish has come true. 'Course, it's most likely a bunch of baloney but that didn't stop me from wishing that the Tatsumi Brothers would become real. I currently just wear the bracelet as an accessory since the wish probably won't happen, it's not like the thing is going to break anytime soon.

Grabbing my towel, my other hand opened my door. I slipped down the hallway and slid into the bathroom, my foot pushing the door closed as I put the towel on the towel rack. Hopefully, I don't take too long because we were left on edge on the last episode of Code Geass we watched. Well, I'll finish sooner than my wish coming true that's for sure, heh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay bro but if you think about it, Lelouch-"

"[Name], I washed your school uniforms. Can you put them away while I start on tacos?" Mom requested from the kitchen, interrupting the Anime, my commentary, and reminding me that school is coming soon. "You too, [b/n]."

"Yes, mom," we both respond.

My brother picked up the remote and hit the pause button so we wouldn't miss anything. I pulled myself up from the plush couch, disappointment growing on me since I had hoped not to be interrupted until dinner was ready. Well, I guess I could let the disappointment wither away since it's Taco Tuesday, my favourite. I chuckled to myself as my feet reached the next level above the main floor and headed down the open hallway to my room.

My laughter died out upon seeing my seven school uniforms, five that were the regular female uniform and two that were gym uniforms. Unlike most students, I didn't like the idea of having to wash my uniform every day, so to make things simpler, I paid for six more with my own money. It was a bit irritating, using the money I earned from my summer job for this instead of getting something else. Still, my practical choice, so I didn't necessarily have to worry about my mom washing my uniform every night.

"Hhhhhh, why does school have to come back so soon?" I asked myself as I picked up one of the uniforms.

The uniform wasn't too special, a simple white blouse, a blue skirt, a blue jacket, and a blue & black striped tie. Students could decide if we wanted to wear tights, leggings, or shorts underneath the skirt as long as it was black or white. I wore leggings unless it was summer which I then wear shorts and knee-high socks. There are those girls that only wear thigh-high socks and panties under their skirt to which my nerd brain questions why. 'Course that's their choice, have fun with your ass cold.

A Discord ringtone made me resurface from my pond of inner thoughts. Becoming aware of my surroundings, I realized my friends Meri-chan and Kamida were calling on the Discord group chat we had. I could tell by the laptop I had open on my desk. I quickly put the uniform I had in hand on the rack with the others before sliding over and clicking the answer button that popped up.

"Yo, what's up nerds."

"Hey I'm not a nerd," Meri-chan protested. "I'm a cool kid."

"Meri-chan, we're all nerds here," Kamida stated before greeting me. "Hey [n/n], how you doing?"

"Eh, good I suppose but I could be doing better, Kami," I answered simply. "How's life?"

"Pretty chill but I got bored, so I decided to call you guys."

"Well, I'm just putting my uniforms away," I informed them and went to put the last uniform away.

"I sometimes forget that you have more than one," Meri-chan commented before I heard her gasp. "Hey, how 'bout we hang out tomorrow, we only have so many days before we have to go back to school."

"Oh, don't remind me," I groaned, hanging my head, then went back to putting the uniform on the hanger and walking over to the closet, hanging it up with the rest.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea Meri-chan, we could hang out tomorrow," Kamida suggested.

"I'm down," Meri-chan quickly responded.

"Welllllll..." I hesitated, sitting down in the [f/c] spinning chair in front of the desk.

"[Name]."

"You see, I kinda want to stay inside my last few days..."

"[n/nnnnn]!" Meri-chan whined.

"Come on [Name], you know you can't stay cooped up inside forever," Kamida reminded me.

"I know," I grumbled, leaning back in my seat. "Fine, I'll come out tomorrow, but it's going to be after 2."

"2 am, geez [n/n] I didn't know you'd be willing to come out that early," Kamida joked.

"I meant 2 pm," I corrected.

"Okay," he chuckled as Meri-chan pipped in.

"But if you're late again, you're buying lunch this time."

"Okay, bet, but what if I'm not?" I inquired, my fingers tapping on my desk.

"Mmmmmmm," she hummed, seemingly to be thinking.

"It's fine I'll pay for lunch tomorrow."

"Alright, but don't use it as an excuse to be late."

"I won't," I reassured her. "Anyway, I'm gonna go watch a few more episodes of Code Geass with my bro-"

"You still need to watch Dragon Ball Z," Kamida interrupted.

"And you need to watch Juuni Taisen," I countered, emphasizing the "you".

"Yeah, yeah," he brushed it off. "Anyway, go have fun with your bro. We'll call again later on tonight."

"Alright, bye guys." I left the call and closed out of discord then proceeded to shut my laptop.

Kamida and Meri-chan were my two friends from school; we've known each other since childhood. 'Course Meri-chan isn't Meri-chan's real name, that's just a nickname Kamida and I gave her. Occasionally, they called me [n/n]-chan but not too often. Then there are times where we call Kamida, Kami-kun, but mainly Meri-chan does it out of spite since Kamida doesn't like it. Especially when Meri-chan does it in her kawaii voice. Those two are the only ones outside of family that have the same vibe I do, that's probably why we've been friends for so long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, you guys ever wish fictional characters could become real?" I randomly asked out of the blue, staring up at the white ceiling as I waited for my friends over the call to answer my question.

"All the time," Meri-chan answered.

"We know simp," Kamida smugly commented.

"Nuuu!" Meri-chan pouted while Kamida and I laughed. "Hey, if anything [n/n] is the simp over here, she's the one actual crushing on the characters."

"Hey don't call me out like that."

"Ha! She doesn't deny it," Kamida jeered.

"Okay, what about you and Android 21?"

"Ack-" Kamida blurted before muting himself, causing me and Meri-chan to giggle. A few seconds pass by before he unmuted himself. "Why are you asking this question [n/n]?"

"No reason in particular-"

"Are you sure it's not you wanting to talk about Juuni Taisen?"

"No- it's not just that. I just think fictional characters would make reality interesting."

"Right..."

"Meri-chan if you could bring someone from Juuni Taisen to-"

"My boy Uuma! You should know this by now."

"Bruh-"

"Well, it's either that or Usagi, and I rather be alive thank you."

"Who's Uuma again?" Kamida inquired, not knowing who was who quite yet since he hasn't watched the Anime.

"Uuma is the warrior of the horse," I informed him.

"Right," Kamida mumbled before letting out a yawn.

"You sound tired, go to sleep!" Meri-chan told Kamida.

"No, you go to sleep."

"Guys, we're all on the same timezone. If one of us goes to sleep then we all do," I stated. "It makes sense since we're all planning on meeting up tomorrow."

"I guess we go to sleep," Meri-chan said bluntly.

"Yeah, alright, goodnight guys," Kamida yawned.

"Night."

"Night guys."

With that, we each left the call. I, however, didn't fall asleep right away. I woke up late and the night was still pretty early, so I opened up the Funimation app on my phone. Scrolling through the list of saved Anime, most of which were halfway through since my brother and I are watching them together, I came across Juuni Taisen.

"Why not..." I muttered to myself as my finger tapped on the Anime and went right to click on episode 7, In Like a Dragon, Out Like a Snake (Part 1).

By the time I finished episodes 7 and 8, it was 2 am when my eyes glanced at the clock in the top corner of my phone. Sighing to myself, I leaned over and snatched my charger off the nightstand, plugging it in the wall before connecting the other end to my phone. Turning off my phone, I placed it on the nightstand and snagged my sleep mask, putting that on my head.

As I laid there on my bed, silence flooded the room, not a sound to be heard but my own breathing. Vines of sorrow began to grow on me as the feeling of loneliness came over me. I tried to pull myself out of the emotion, turning over and wrapping my arms around the plain bodypillow in an attempt to comfort myself. In the end, it only helped slightly. It didn't erase the pain because I knew there were no arms that would hug me back. A tear escaped my eyes before I pulled my mask over them, and a final thought appeared in my mind before I entered the dream realm.

'I wish I wasn't alone...'

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Congratulations, Tatsumi {Ani|Otouto}, warrior of the {dragon|snake}!" Duodecuple exclaimed. "You are the winner of the 12th Juuni Taisen, everyone give yourself a hand!" The man started to applaud but soon stopped. "The antidote has settled in by now. You'll be fine."

{"Tch|Alright"} the Tatsumi brother simply responded.

"Now that you've won the Juuni Taisen, you can make one wish of your choice. Would you like to make your wish now, or would you like for it to be granted later?"

"In all honesty, when I arrived at the Juuni Taisen I wished for {nothing|money}, I didn't need anything else really but now that {I'm here|I had time to think about} I don't want to wish for {nothing|money}."

"Oh, do you have another wish in mind?" Duodecuple inquired the Tatsumi brother sitting in front of him, alone.

"Yeah... I wish me and my brother were never apart of the Juuni Taisen."

#tatsumi brothers #tatsumi kyoudai #tatsumi kyoudai ani #tatsumi kyoudai otouto #nagayuki tsumita #takeyasu tsumita #takeyasu #nagayuki #tatsumi brothers x reader #juuni taisen #juuni taisen au #juni taisen #juni taisen x reader #juuni taisen x reader #juuni taisen: zodiac war #juuni taisen snake #juuni taisen dragon #juuni taisen zodiac war #spot the reference

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