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kitasgloves · 5 months

Note

hii!!um can you mb do comforting your bf pt3?If you can include sunarin or kei. I know you have more requests n probably personal work so,of course ,no need to hurry !! <3

comforting your insecure bf

part 1 . part 2

— ♬ NSFW, MINORS DNI, gn reader, based on this post

— ♬ hi anon thank you for requesting i hope you like it !

— ♬ Suna Rintaro

Suna Rintaro's first encounter with you wasn't anything spectacular. There's no spark, no butterflies in his stomach, no reaction. He just viewed you as another human in the world. You were friends with the Miya brothers so it was inevitable that one of the brothers was going to introduce you to him. It was through his best friend Osamu Miya that he met you.

He thinks you're cool, he doesn't expect anything from you. Suna only saw you as a friend, right? Well, that was before he began spending more time with you. In the beginning, it was him, Osamu, and you. Sometimes Atsumu joined. Then all of a sudden the Miya twins were out of the equation and the two of you started hanging out.

You matched his vibe perfectly. You shared the same sense of humor, you were clever and quick with rebuttals to his remarks, and you had a sweet side that made his insides feel like mush. Before he knew it, Suna was hanging out more with you than his best friend and he gets teased for it.

"I think yer fallin' in love with [Name]"

Yeah, right. It's not true. You only give him the prettiest smiles and the most contagious laugh. The playful glimmer in your eyes, the way you would reach for his hand when you're nervous, how you lean on his shoulder when you're getting sleepy when watching a movie, he can smell your perfume, your shampoo, he can feel your warmth, and see the color of your lips...oh shit. Osamu is right, he is falling in love with you.

But there's no fucking way he's going to admit it. The way Suna sees it, you're too good for him. He's an asshole, a mean and sarcastic piece of shit. You're a special and genuine person that he doesn't deserve. He's been thinking about his feelings for you lately up until the Miya twins' birthday.

He deliberately planned to get wasted, maybe find somebody else to make him forget about his stupid crush on you. But his attempt was futile because, in the crowded room, his eyes still searched for you. And the fact that you immediately meet his eyes was so unfair, you make him so weak. Yet he doesn't crumble. He stubbornly avoids you.

"Rin! Hey! Why are you avoiding me?"

"Fuck off, [Name]"

Suna slurred as he tried to get away from you, terrified that if he lets you reach him he'll confess. He finishes his cup of alcohol when you finally catch him, as he gazes at you, his blood goes cold. There were tears in your eyes and you were gripping his arm.

"Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?"

You asked, your tone desperate and Suna's heart just shatters. Jesus, he is a certified dick. Even in his drunk state, he tries to keep it together to tell you that you haven't done anything wrong.

"Really?"

"Yeah, M'sorry [Name]"

"Oh thank god"

You hugged him, incredibly relieved. Suna was quick to return the embrace, burying his face against your neck, almost feeling his eyes go wet. And in a spur-of-the-moment or his fear of almost losing you, Suna pulls away and crashes his lips against yours in a silent confession. There was a muffled squeak from you. He thinks he's dreaming when he feels you kiss him back. Suna thinks he's incredibly drunk when he ends up going home with you.

"Babe, are you listening?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I was too busy staring at your pretty face"

"Ugh, fucking cheeseball"

You laughed and smacked his shoulder. Ever since the kiss, the two of you hit it off. Suna wouldn't have expected to be with you, but he's over the moon. Romance wasn't his strongest suit yet you made him feel like it is. He has never wanted to kiss someone so bad every day in his life. Never he has experienced being so head over heels for someone that it's ridiculous.

Everything felt so right. But Suna begins to think it's a lie. He's convinced that he doesn't deserve to be with you after everything. You and him weren't a perfect couple, you would have arguments that would start from something so minuscule into fully serious. Suna would find himself intentionally hurting you with his venomous insults, but you were strong and unwavering. It would be a while until Suna's self-sabotage brings out the worst of him.

He has hurt you, this time he did. He fucked up bad when he sees your wide eyes as tears gradually built up. But this time, he doesn't apologize, he lets you walk out the door and think it's over. He ends up alone in his room quietly crying to himself, gazing at his pathetic reflection on his mirror. On the least of his expectations, you return.

"Rintaro?"

Suna loved the way you called his name but he doesn't face you. He's filled with shame and guilt and you coming back to him after the shit he told you was a testament that he truly doesn't deserve you.

"Why the fuck are you here?"

"Please, let's talk, Rin"

"I don't wanna"

"Please, I want to fix this. I don't this to end"

You see the way Suna's lip wobbles. You carefully walked over to him and hugged him from behind, sharing your warmth with him. Suna blinks away the tears as he leans against your touch.

"I don't deserve you, [Name]"

"Rintaro..."

"I'm nothing but a stupid fucking asshole"

"Rin, you're not"

"For fuck's sake [Name]! I made you cry!"

"I know you don't mean it, Rin"

You nuzzled your face against his neck. Suna sighs, it was hard trying to resist you.

"I'm sorry, [Name]..."

"It's okay, babe"

"I...Are you sure you don't want to break up with me?"

"Yeah, want me to prove it to you?"

You said. Suna raised a brow, unsure of what you meant until he felt your hands tugging on the hems of his pants. In a span of a minute, he's moaning in front of his bedroom mirror with his cock out and your hands around it. You carefully pumped his length, purposely edging him.

"[Name], ah! Shit!"

Suna hissed. He hears you chuckle from behind. You planted butterfly kisses from his shoulder up to his neck.

"[Name], fuck"

Your boyfriend moans. You slowly begin to jerk him off faster, he throws his head back and whines.

"Rintaro, I love you so much. I love every part of you"

"I love your cheezy jokes, your sweet smile, and even your big and mean face"

"I love your eyes, your hair, your face, your lips, and especially your cock"

Suna groans, his face heats up from the compliment. Gently, your hands went to cup his balls and he drools like a fool drunk on lust.

"Hnngh, [Name]"

"I will love you forever for who you are, even with all the bad parts"

"[Name]"

He calls out for you in desperation, desperate for his sweet release. As your hand trailed back to his cock, you started to pump him swiftly. Suna's hips bucked forward as he watched himself lose to the pleasure in front of the mirror. His hair was sweaty and messy, the precum dripping down on his length was nasty, as his moans grew breathy.

"Are you gonna cum, Rin?"

"Ooooh yes! Fuck yes!"

"Come on baby, let go. I'm all yours"

You softly told him as his eyes rolled back. Suna convulsed as he cums around your warm hand. His cum shoots out everywhere, on his abdomen, your hand, and even his pants. Suna felt like he died and went back to life. His chest rises and falls as he meets your sweet eyes through the mirror.

"Holy shit"

"Are you okay, Rintaro?"

"More than okay, babe. That was fucking hot"

You laughed. Suna pounces on you to kiss you, he towers over you on his bed as he starts whispering 'I love you' to you with every kiss. Everything was all sweet and romantic until you can feel his cock hardening as it rubbed against your leg. You gulped as Suna sent you a devilish smile.

— ♬ Tsukishima Kei

Tsukishima Kei had no room for romance in his life. He only poured his focus on his work and volleyball. He occasionally hung out with his friends so he wasn't some miserable and workaholic man. He thinks the universe loves shitting on him when he was constantly surrounded by couples wherever he went. On the way to his work, in the museum, at the grocery store, and even scrolling on the internet. The persistent image of lovestruck couples irritated him to no end, especially when one of his friends recently came out that they became an official couple (thank god one of them went back to Brazil and the other migrated to Italy).

Tsukishima was waiting for all of this bullshit to die down until he was reunited with you. Great, just what he fucking needed. It was a dark secret that he had a fat crush on you back in high school, you were his senior then. You were popular because people were drawn to your beauty, kindness, and alluring personality. Tsukishima felt ashamed for falling victim to your charms. Admittedly, he tried to subtly pursue you then but ultimately stopped after you graduated high school and went to university. And here he thinks he's over you.

"Oh my god, Kei is that you?"

Shit. You have spotted him at the museum. He awkwardly stands there and lets you run to him with that big smile of yours.

"It's been so long!"

"...It has"

"I didn't know you worked here! How have you been?"

You and Tsukishima briefly caught up with each other's lives. It was true you and him go way back and were close, and it still feels like it to this day. Tsukishima hates to admit how he missed talking to you. Something about your genuine demeanor pulls him back to you.

"Do you want to go grab drinks later?"

Say no

"Sure, I'm free after my shift"

Oh you fucking idiot

"Great! Let's meet at the bar nearby!"

His heart skips a beat when he sees that beautiful bright smile on your face. It kept appearing in his mind as he continued on his day. Tsukishima grew impatient as he constantly glanced at his watch, wishing that time would go by faster. After his shift at the museum, he rushes to the bar and finds you waiting for him there.

The two of you ate and drank beer, swapping stories and sharing jokes. Being here with you reignited his attraction to you. Tsukishima couldn't help but notice everything about you. Your hair, your clothes, the smell of your perfume, god, he felt like a creep. It was getting late and both of you got fairly tipsy. You finished your cup of beer when you smiled at him with flushed cheeks.

"You know, I used to have a crush on you back then"

You admitted. Tsukishima nearly choked on his beer as he gazes at you wide-eyed and his glasses tilted.

"...Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, you were handsome and not to mention a smartass, I'm pretty sure everyone had a crush on you"

You shrugged. Tsukishima ignores the way his heart skipped a beat, he swallows nervously and looks at you.

"Didn't think you'd genuinely have a crush on me, I thought you think I'm an asshole"

"Well you are, a handsome asshole"

You chuckled and looked at him in the eye. Tsukishima knew this was his moment, to tell you how he's been in love with you for a long time. He sucks in a breath.

"You know, I know someone who's got a big fat crush on you for a long time..."

"Oh? Who?"

"You know him and he's an idiot"

"Hmm, is it your best friend Yamaguchi?"

"No"

"How about your other friends Kageyama and Hinata?"

"Nah, those two just became a couple"

"Oh, congratulations to them! Who could it be?"

He waited for you to guess right but it never came, much to his heart's disappointment.

"Are you lying to me, Kei?"

"No...ugh, I give up"

"What? Just tell me who it is!"

"It's me, you dumbass!"

You went silent and it made Tsukishima's stomach drop. The look of shock on your face scared him. How will you react? He has no clue what will it be. And then you laughed.

"Oh my god, are you serious?"

"Yeah..."

"And here I thought my feelings would never be reciprocated"

"Huh?"

Tsukishima looked at you dumbfounded. You sighed and reached to touch his hand across the table.

"I've been in love with you too for a long time, you dingus"

Suddenly, Tsukishima has room for his romantic life with you. Before he realizes it, he's just like those disgusting couples he gets surrounded by everywhere he goes. It felt so surreal to hold your hand while you two walked down the street. It seemed so unreal when you shared a kiss under the moonlight. He believed he lived in a dream when you told him you loved him. Because the truth is, Tsukishima thinks he doesn't deserve it.

The reason why he didn't have room for romance is because he's convinced he's unlovable. That on the surface is just a smart guy with a massive height, athletic abilities, and a smug attitude, and beyond that, he's nothing special. Tsukishima knows he's an absolute jerk who doesn't back down on rebuttals and insults. He's got a sharp tongue and an intelligent mouth. Why would someone love a guy like him?

Tsukishima distances himself from you since he formed those insecure thoughts. He gradually drifts away from you to the point that he refuses to meet up with you. He tries to return to his life before. Maybe you'll take the hint and replace him with someone better, someone who's significantly kinder than him, someone who's lovable.

There's a sudden bang on his apartment door. He groans and drags his feet to the door, when he opens it, he sees your enraged face.

"Why the hell are you not answering my calls and messages?!"

You shouted at him. Tsukishima takes a step back, surprised by your sudden appearance. You jabbed a finger at his chest.

"I've been worried sick about you! I thought something bad happened to my boyfriend!"

"Stop yelling, you're disturbing the neighbors"

"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!"

You placed your hands on your hips and glared at him. Tsukishima holds back a groan and runs a hand down his face, he shuts the door behind you as he tries to lie about everything he's been through.

"I was sick and I didn't want to disturb you"

"You could've sent me a quick text then I would've understood. Ghosting me all of a sudden is so immature of you"

"I understand, I'm sorry"

You exhaled as you both sat on his bed, you crawled behind him to give him a loving embrace. Tsukishima could feel his heart racing at the tender act.

"I want to know if something's bothering you, Kei. I want you to be honest with me please"

You said quietly. Guilt floods his heart as Tsukishima debates whether to admit the truth. He didn't want to make you feel bad so he decided to be a man and tell you everything. He expected you to make fun of him or look at him differently but instead, you accepted him with open arms.

"Kei, baby, you're not unlovable"

"Oh please [Name], I'm a fucking jerk"

"And that's why I love you"

"Can you stop lying, [Name]?"

"I'm not lying!"

You huffed from behind him, glaring at him through the mirror before his bed. You wanted to knock some sense out of your giant boyfriend and show him how lovable he was. Tsukishima sees you smiling through the mirror as your hands grab the zipper of his pants.

"Oi [Name]! What the hell are you doing?!"

Tsukishima wants to deny it. To deny how fucking good it felt when your hand wrapped around his cock. He goes hard immediately when you stroke him a few times. You bite your lip as you played with his slit, earning a groan from him.

"[Name], ah fuck!"

You went to grab his ballsack and massage it. The pleasure erupts all over his body. When he stares forward, he sees his wrecked expression in the mirror. His blonde hair was disheveled, his glasses sliding down his nose bridge, and his pants sliding down his thighs to his ankles.

"Look at yourself Kei, god you look so fucking hot"

"Shit! Oh fuck, [Name]"

Tsukishima lets out a breathless moan. When your hand returns to his dick as you start to pump him at a fast pace, he opens his mouth and lets out a high-pitched moan.

"Oh, you like that, babe?"

"[Name], please"

"I need you to stop thinking you're unlovable because you are not"

Your pace slows down. Tsukishima meets your gaze in the mirror with your hand softly stroking his cock, his face goes red.

"Kei, I know you're handsome and smart but you're considerate too"

"You're not some heartless jerk, I see how you show that you care"

"You make efforts for me, you make me happy and it pains me to know you think you're not special because you are to me"

Your pace around his length quickens and he gasps, taking in your words and accepting them in his heart.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Kei. My sweet, smart, and hot boyfriend"

"Shit, [Name]! I'm going to cum!"

"Cum for me Kei"

You commanded and he met his orgasm in a shocking wave. The electrifying pleasure shoots all over his body that he momentarily loses his breath while his cum coats your hand. As the high subsides, Tsukishima blinks at you through the mirror.

"Don't you feel better now, Kei?"

You sweetly asked and suddenly he grew shy, avoiding your eyes with a tinge of pink on his cheeks. For a huge man, he sure is adorable. You giggled and kissed him on the cheek, and the blonde sighed.

"Thank you, [Name]"

"Aw, you're welcome baby"

"How about I return the favor, I want you to be good and take your clothes off now"

It was your turn to blush as you stuttered, Tsukishima looked at you with his eyes clouded with desire. You knew better so you obeyed him and got naked as he sweetly returned the favor.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

#— ♬ ©kitasgloves #— ♬ kitasgloves requests #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu smut #suna rintaro x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #suna x reader

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bluegiragi · 6 months

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Two things I've been curious about for a while and that I haven't seen mentioned in descriptions of all your wonderful art,

Do you have any headcanons for how tall everyone is? I've mostly seen people cite Ghost as 6'4 but also 6'7 on one occasion, and Soap from anywhere from 5'10 to 6'2. Or do you go more for vibes in relation to each other (if that makes sense)

Do the Monster 141 and others have any weaknesses related to their hybrid heritage? Like does Graves have issues with sunlight or is Soap more susceptible to silvered items?

And once again, your art is amazing and spectacular, my friend and I drool over every new piece you drop <33

I absolutely go for vibes over any sort of accurate height chart. In my head from tallest to shortest of the cast so far it goes: Konig > Ghost > Price > Gaz > Soap > Horangi.

Graves can go out in the day just fine, but he's weakened under direct sunlight. It doesn't bother him too much since he has a bunch of thralls at his beck and call to keep him comfortable. For Soap, silver is toxic and will burn to the touch. So you can imagine how painful getting shot by a silver bullet might be.

also thank you! I'm glad I can provide some entertainment for you and your friend <3

#askbox #poor johnny has to vet all his piercings carefully

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theficblog · 2 years

Text

HEARTS [chapter one]

CHAPTER ONE: WHAT ARE WE?

Pairing: Jeno x Reader [ ft. Jaemin, Haechan, Chenle, Renjun ]

Prologue: Jeno is just another friend, is all that you have been thinking, denying your feelings. It’s better to shut the emotions of the heart than to lose him. What happens when he learns a secret?

Genre: Friends with Benefits AU + Suggestive + Fluff + Angst

Wordcount: 2,547

Warnings: Suggestive Content [ rough + angry sex + nudity + biting + making out + moaning ] Language

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And perhaps falling off a bridge would hurt lesser than falling for a friend. Your head and your heart would ultimately be confused and conflicted by an enigmatic companion. - The morning was unconcerned with the impending alarms, the warm yellow rays of the sun rising above the horizon were concealed by the heavy black curtains. An aura of sloth, sultriness, and wilderness floated in the room like the aroma of a freshly baked cake. The only source of light was the mood lamp that had been projecting the same seductive crimson and tuscany hues since the previous night.

Jeno hovered over you, placing kisses as he worked his hips just right. You gripped his face with your hands, soaking up every pleasure he gave you. It felt as though the world was dying since the two of you had been going about this business for so long and the only thing on your minds was getting each other to scream and react physically. You were familiar with every inch of his body like a road map that you had memorised, and you were also aware of the vital spots where even a light touch from your flesh would send him into a fit. Jeno was skilled in the same domain.

"How the fuck did you manage to cover me in so many hickeys?" Jeno voiced as he rolled over his side, engulfing you in his arms as he nuzzled his face into yours.

"I don't even like biting but there's something about you, I can't control myself." You replied, letting out soft moans as he brushed his fingers against your naked body.

"Why is it so soft?" He gushed, bringing himself nigher. He started to place kisses all over your bare arm.

"You really like my moisturizer, huh?" You made a joke, which caused the boy to giggle softly yet deeply.

The alarm went off, signalling it was too late and better for you to be out of bed. Yet, it was difficult to come out of the dreaminess of addictive acts with Jeno.

"You ought to go." He twisted his legs around yours and tightened the grasp after hearing what you said, which made him pout.

"Can we not just stay like this? I love it so much." Jeno tried his best to earn a yes from you but even after domestic dynamics between the two of you, what you had with him was still not bound by any official terms of a relationship.

"Lee Jeno, think of skipping one more class and you're dead meat." You declared, pushing him away by the chest. He finally got up, his back offered you a spectacular view as he put on his hoodie. He was hot.

The classes began as usual. The vibe of the weekend could be felt and seen on everyone's faces as they walked towards their lecture halls. College was about to end soon, unlike the day that would turn out to be a long one.

Jeno came sprinting from behind, tapping you on the shoulder. "Lend me the notes from the past week. What did we do?"

You handed him a folder as you both kept walking. "Only if they taught football." He thanked you.

"Even if they did you'd barely come to class." You commented as you took his hand in his. He wore a plain blue shirt over a white tee and that was enough for the rest of the onlookers to feel jealous of you.

Business Majors was as dull as it sounded.

Where had the last three years gone? It would sound cliche to anyone but it in fact did feel like yesterday that you bumped into this athletic guy, the exchange of glances and phone numbers gradually led to things heating up between you. Matters started to range from baseball games to bedrooms.

But who was Jeno? A lover? A friend? An acquaintance? That's the complicated part. Friends with benefits.

What everybody else thought was contrasting. For them, you two were the hottest couple on the campus. After all, you did everything a couple would do and the best thing to do when unfounded rumours keep coming up like a creeper is to ignore them and take pleasure in the drama.

"Had you been three minutes late I could've won a new pair of headphones?" A young boy who had donned a red jacket with fluffy brown hair, seated right in front of your row cried.

"Don't you already have more than enough?" You questioned seating yourself and placing your supplies on the desk.

"Renjun, explain." He elbowed the other one beside him.

"He made a bet. Lost again, of course." Another boy in yellow explained. He didn't seem to be in the mood to skip the lecture and squander it engaging in the gossip and petty bickering that you and your friend loved.

"Haechan! Grow up!" You jokingly hit his head.

"Over there!" With a harshness in his voice, the professor snapped his fingers. "Lee Jeno! Explain this." He called him out as he pointed toward a phrase on the screen.

Jeno, who was seated to your right, glanced at you momentarily in an attempt to pick up a cue, but the timing didn't seem appropriate.

"This.." He began. "I kind of don't know." He earned a roar of laughter from the rest of the class, every single one of them but you.

"Out!" The professor shouted, his brows wrinkled.

You turned to face Jeno once more, this time with worry reflected in your eyes, but he did the exact opposite of what you expected. He gave you a wink and grinned as he slung his empty backpack over his shoulder and exited the hallway regretlessly.

This made you think about the Jeno you met three years ago, he wasn't at the top of the class, but he did secure one of the highest grades, never missed a class, and turned in assignments on time but that only lasted for a semester or two. It was like slow poison, it would start to spread slowly and gradually, taking its time in the best way possible until one day would come and everything would cease. Serene yet explosive.

This was what had you concerned.

There were other occasions when people criticised you, saying that you were ultimately responsible for doing this to a sincere young man like him, that you were taking advantage of him, and that it was not for the talks, but the fact that they did, in fact, ring true to you was onerous.

Given your social and financial status, you didn't think much of college and didn't care if you passed or not. If you fished a decent job placement or not. If your professors liked you or not and this was what had been going on ever since you could recall memories, things that appeared to be a hard-earned necessity to others were insignificant to you. There were a dozen more methods, good or evil, to do things, and if you didn't succeed, your family would step in and fix them for you. This was how life went by; the only reason you went to this esteemed university was to have it documented on a piece of writing that you put some work into. Worse things may be anticipated in a society where paper was valued more highly than the human conscience. Money was paper, after all, it sure was different from the other kind of knowledge-stuffed papers the others applied with, but well, it was paper and your family did not mind spending racks to fit you into an image that was not yours.

"Y/N? The class got over ten minutes ago." Haechan attracted your attention by abruptly waving his hand in front of your eyes.

"Oh, yeah." You murmured.

"This is why they say people go crazy in love." He commented.

"Shut the fuck up!" You were annoyed. Picking up your bag, you left the class, still in deep thought.

Life did not make any sense at that point and your heart was not helping either, you were a walking puzzle.

Love was not what you two shared.

Together, you did spend days and nights. Every time someone else looked at him, you grew envious, and Jeno too. You'll never forget how he pouted whenever you spent time with someone who wasn't him. There was a natural sense of belonging that you two had developed for one another, but perhaps that's what friends did. Every time Haechan brought in new acquaintances, you did experience jealousy; it wasn't as strong or as intense, but it was enough to persuade your heart. Only if hearts came equipped with remote controls would the world be a simpler place to live.

The one time you could not control your heart was when you told Jeno you loved him, drunk.

"I love you too, Y/N~" He replied back, not even in a sense of distinguishing colours or shapes, let alone feelings.

Because you were certain Jeno had no memory of it, and because you knew it would be terrifying to dig out the dead, you gave up trying to think about that time. Losing a friend as valuable as he was was not on your list because the only ghosting that could occur was from his end to yours.

This took you back to another night in your bed. You and Jeno were cuddled up, wrapped in blankets as he laid his head on your tummy, trying to watch Netflix but the only thing you could ever do was smile at each other's face, for no reason whatsoever.

"What?" You giggled, interlocking his hair in your fingers, trying to focus on the screen projected in the front.

"Can't I just stare at my-" He cut the sentence halfway, turning his face away to the movie. A scene of love confession was going on, the two main leads were oblivious, still in a denial, and you could swear that watching porn instead of that would have been way easier for you.

At least five times, if not more, Jeno looked up at you in the hope that you would say something, but you chose to ignore him like life troubles, as if they went away with your ignorance. And wasn't romance trouble too? You thought to yourself. No matter how bad you wanted Jeno, the more you thought of confessing, the more you denied your feelings.

No, it would still not count as love.

"Be careful where you go!" Someone's screams jolted you back to reality. "I'm sorry." You walked away.

"Y/N!" You turned your head toward the source, Jeno. He was already outside, waiting for you.

"Here!" He shouted.

You began to move in the direction of the blanket, pillows, and woven basket of food that he had already spread out on the floor.

He patted on a spot, asking you to take a seat.

"Jeno, this is a study date." You asserted while raising one of the soft pastel green pillows loaded with fur.

"Because of the way the brain functions, we need to get some rest before engaging in any kind of mental training." He laughed.

"How do you plan to sleep here, it's 11 am?" You pushed him away, laying beside him.

"Hmm because you kept me from getting any sleep last night." Right near to your ear, he whispered.

"I could say the same." You exhaled.

"Yo! Lovebirds, and then you guys say you are not in love." You cocked your head to the side only to see Chenle.

"Come, sit." You said getting up.

"I'm in a rush, Jeno I needed you to help me." He declared.

"With?" You questioned.

"You already forgot? Do you need a second invitation?" Chenle teased you while you were still confused.

"I told you I'm throwing a party tonight, nothing too fancy."

"Will there be booze?" Haechan jumped into the scene, startling you.

"Everything, Jeno!" He pulled him by the arm until he succeeded in taking him away.

"Hmmm." Haechan hummed.

"What now?" You questioned.

"I don't know what kind of kinks you have but sleeping under the open sky here at the campus is definitely a bad idea." The only thing holding him up was his elbow, he said as he laid down.

"You don't get to speak crude things just because you're single." You flicked at his forehead.

"You are also single." He was obviously on something today since everything he said struck you right in the heart; if it weren't for the luxury of being your closest friend, he may have gotten into trouble.

"Whatever." You shrugged him off.

You were in your room later that evening, contemplating what to wear to the party. Other significant life decisions were open questions for someone who struggled to make decisions about their clothing.

You saw a text from your mother when the phone's alerts appeared, but you chose to ignore it. Knowing what it would be, the wisest course of action was to ignore it once again.

Haechan also phoned, but because you were adamant that nothing would spoil this evening and Jeno was on the way, the two of you chose to go together.

KNOCK KNOCK! The door signalled a visitor, your favourite one.

"Jaemin Na—who the hell is he?" Before you could even see Jeno's face, he hissed. You were taken aback. How did he know about him? You never told him, did you?

"What- who told yo- Jeno what?" You sounded muddled.

"Come inside, let's sit down and speak about it." You suggested it after noticing the others in the hallway, and he stepped in.

"Who is he?" Jeno was tearing up, gripping you by your arms. Meanwhile, you thought of a thousand different excuses. There was no way you wanted Jeno to know who Jaemin was.

He was sobbing when you glanced up, but he was in a subtle rage. Why? Not as if he was yours. The two of you had nothing official, only lingering feelings and this would be the complete opposite of whatever was, and would happen between you and Jaemin.

You kissed Jeno impulsively, not knowing what else to do. And he kissed you back, roughly.

Two bodies breathing heavily, crying, yet never breaking the tongue contact. You were so mad at him, and surely he felt the same.

You pushed Jeno onto the bed, his eyes never meeting yours as you straddled him, sitting on his lap, forcing him to lay on his back.

"This is all because of you." He grunted.

"Oh, so now you are going to say this too?" You bit his neck, earning a groan from him. His hands rushed up and down your waist all the way back.

You ripped apart his black shirt, and moments later his pants met with the same fate.

You kissed and bit every part of his body like some bloodthirsty vampire, with zero control over yourself. The bed was a weird mix of fluids, including the sweat from the heat and the tears from the pain. Maybe they were right when they said sex was a great escape mechanism.

"Fuck you!" Jeno cursed, you had not seen him like this anytime before.

"You literally will."

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champagneher · 2 years

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❝𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒔❞ —𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

based on: reader is in paris and taehyung's an incredible supportive lover.

genre: drabble, fluff, idol au.

warnings: making out, little suggestive, cursing and tae just giving boyfriend material vibes.

a/n: so... i'm back with this little drabble. hope you enjoy it and you can always send your request! lots of love. :) please go easy on me, english is not my native language. so, i apologize for any mistakes and please let me know!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Paris never looked better in your opinion. The night was falling, the stars were beginning to shine in the sky while the young people went out to have fun with their friends on this summery Friday. You weren't far behind, you had your fresh nails, your long eyelashes, your hair recently dyed a light honey brown that contrasted the colour of your skin perfectly, and of course, it was combed in a perfect bun.

You hugged your light shirt closer to your body while you watched the big city from the balcony of your -temporary- home that offered a spectacular view of the greatest attraction the city could offer you, the Eiffel Tower.

You looked at the time on your phone when it lit up with the incoming message.

Tae: I hope Paris is treating you as you deserve.

You smiled.

Me: Of course it is. It always has.

Tae: I miss Paris Me: You should come visit Paris Me: And me, of course Tae: Obviously. Why else would I go to Paris for? Tae: Oh wait Tae: There may be another reason. A good reason Me: Oh yeah?

Tae: Yeah

Me: Care to tell me?

Tae: There is this ballet dancer, who dances beautifully Me: A ballerina who dances? Me: I'm a little surprised that you like ballet. Who would have thought Tae: You're annoying. Tae: But yes. Actually, I like everything about this girl. Hopefully, I can see her soon. I met her in a café when she spilled all her coffee on my white pants and Gucci shoes Me: That's tragic

Tae: No, not at all. I got to know her and since then we have been very close. Very

Tae: I love to fuck her Me: Okay I have to go now Tae: 😊 Tae: Rehearsals? Tae: What time do you go on stage?

Me: In about two hours, 9pm, so I have to run to the theatre and keep rehearsing Tae: Hope everything goes well. I know you'll dance amazing as always just don't be too surprised

Me: Why would I be surprised? Haha Me: Talk later?

Tae: Of course baby, see you soon xx

You shook your head slightly, smiling as you locked the screen of your phone and then turned to take one last look at the incredible view from the balcony.

You could get used to this, you thought. But you missed your life in Korea. Life there as a foreigner could be incredibly difficult in time to time, but you had also built relationships with incredible people and appreciated every beautiful moment lived. You also couldn't deny that you enjoyed it more because it's where one of your favourite people was.

How you met Taehyung was definitely embarrassing, but at the same time you were grateful because otherwise you wouldn't be on the verge of collapsing from everything you felt for him. He was annoying and charming at the same time. You had never been in love, and you didn't want to be either because of your career that demanded a lot of your time. Shit. Tae's was even more demanding, you never imagined that you could be head over heels for an idol who could make you laugh until you cry in a moment and then fuck you until oblivion in the other.

You didn't have a title. You weren't officially a couple, but it was no surprise to his and your circle that you both did almost everything together. Not only that, but you could be in each other's company all day and still yearn for more time together. It was reciprocal and pure. You had met someone with whom you couldn't say a word and still feel comfortable.

Tae loved every second shared with you, he had met the person who understood him and put herself in his place without the need to ask. You both had busy schedules, which worried him a lot when he realized that he couldn't spend much time away from you, but that stopped thanks to the fact that you worked to continue sharing moments without feeling forced.

He introduced you as his, and you introduced him as yours. Still, the little pinch in your stomach that said he would never make anything official was still there, bothering you day by day. And not to mention when the opportunity to dance in one of the most prestigious theatres in Europe presented itself to you, and you made the decision -which was very hard- to go to France for 5 months to be part of one of your biggest dreams. It was a unique opportunity and although Taehyung supported you in your decision and was every step of the way here, it was difficult. For almost eight months you had not spent more than two days away from each other, and now you were separated by hours and hours of distance.

4 and a half months passed, the end of your contract was approaching, and it was bittersweet. Bitter that your moments on this stage with your new friends would end, but sweet that you would be coming home to him. You also loved every second lived here. Although it was difficult, and it wasn't necessary, it must be emphasized, you were always faithful to Taehyung. Your heart belonged to him.

You were about to return to the stage for the finale when one of your new friends walked up to you with a full smile and sparkling eyes.

"I'm about to pass out," she whispered, half screaming. She took your arm in her hands and shook it slightly.

"What's happening?" You laughed, seeing her unable to stay still because of the small movements and tiny dances she made with her body.

"You little shit, someone came to see you and I think if you don't make him yours, I'm going to steal him." She raised one of her eyebrows. She watched you look at her confused and frowning, she dragged you towards one of the panels to sneak a bit and get the public view.

"What the fuck-"

"____! You're going in 60 seconds."

"Oh, go, go," your friend pushed you back into line to go on stage.

In all the time you were out there you hadn't seen him, you weren't one to watch the public either but shit if you hadn't stood still for a few seconds after seeing him there, sitting in the third row carefully observing the performance.

Butterflies burst in your stomach and your nerves went over the top. You took a deep breath to come back to yourself and keep giving your best out there, even more so because Taehyung was there. You were happy.

You were dragged into a more private part of the place by a bodyguard, and there was no doubt it was to see Tae. The audience had gone a little crazy when they realized that one of the BTS members was present in the among them, making the exit a bit difficult, but the happiness of the dancers and the entire crew was amazing. They were all talking to each other and congratulating each other on attracting one of the biggest celebrities of the world to see them.

"I can't believe this," you managed to let out a laugh before being wrapped in a pair of arms, causing you to crash into his chest and choke your words on her neck. "What are you doing here?" It was your turn to wrap your arms around his waist closing your eyes to better breathe his perfume.

"Missed you so much," he murmured with his eyes closed. It was no secret that Taehyung was really sentimental, and when he loved, he loved hard. "You were amazing," he smiled with a heart, showing his teeth, pulling away from you a bit to look into your eyes, taking your face in his hands, your arms still around his waist.

"You think?" You asked timidly with hope in your voice.

"I don't think," he kissed yours lips softly and quickly. "I know."

Your smile grew even larger and heat consumed your face. Still you looked around you to confirm no one saw you both share tha sweet kiss. You knew it could burn the whole world if people knew Taehyung came all the way to Paris to see you.

"You're crazy," you laughed out of breath, that man really took your breath away the moment your eyes met.

"For you," he mumbled, "what about we leave and go to dinner?"

"Dinner in Paris? Sounds fancy," you started to walk away from the crowd trying to get a glimpse of Tae, but thank god, they couldn't even see him and more importantly, you. Luckily you had already changed into your jeans moments before leaving in search of Tae. You didn't want to draw anyone's attention to what you got for throwing on a black hoodie and your flats. Although your makeup and hairstyle were still intact. The bodyguards followed you as you led them out to a more discreet place where no one could disturb you.

The stars were shining in the sky above you, the wind moving your hair in a light and not overwhelming way. The sound of the living city was heard slightly below you, away from the hotel balcony where you were.

Taehyung had taken off his suit vest as well as his tie, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few loose buttons to his chest. His curls were messy from the strokes of his hand. You, on the other hand, had the opportunity to change into a light white dress of a light and shiny fabric, accompanied by small heels of the same colour as your dress, courtesy of Taehyung who had thought that you would not have enough time to change later of the show. It was lucky for you, he had taken you to a beautiful and elegant private restaurant, and you knew that without the change of clothes you would have been very out of place. You were grateful, you had a beautiful new Gucci dress, you had delicious food for dinner, and now you found yourself looking down on the city with the man your heart so dearly loved.

"Beautiful…" Taehyung mumbled resting his elbows on the concrete railings as he watched you not so discreetly, though you didn't notice. "Right? This city never ceases to amaze me," you smiled as it was your turn now to watch him. "Well, I wasn't exactly talking about the city, but yes… it's also beautiful." His left arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him. Damn, if your heart didn't want to come out of your chest. With all the control you could have of your body you brought your right hand to his lower back and rested your chin on his shoulder. "Thank you for tonight, it really was perfect."

Taehyung gently cupped your face in his hands leaning back slightly to get a better look at you. It was a lot for you so you couldn't help lowering your eyes to avoid feeling that your soul wanted to leave your body for the moment you were living. "Please look at me," he requested in a low voice, almost a whisper. With your lips slightly parted you raised your gaze to connect with his again, this time feeling an extreme calm that you didn't know if you had known before. His eyes the purest and deepest brown you've ever seen, his flawless skin and his crimson lips. "Would you be mine?" His words left his lips as soft and slow as only he knew how. Your eyebrows rose in surprise, your smile appeared without your control. Was he really asking you to make it official to be a couple? Did he really want to be yours? "What?" you laughed under your breath.

"I said, ____, would you be mine? Please?" His eyes full of hope seemed to reflect the stars in the sky, his hands trembled slightly and he felt a tingling go up and down his spine. He was about to lose him if you didn't say you wanted what he wanted. He longed to be able to share those small moments full of intimacy that only a couple could share, he wanted to tell his friends that he couldn't make it because he already had plans with his girlfriend, he wanted to politely reject other people because he was already taken, he already had a girlfriend whom he madly loved. He wanted to apologize for being late because time got out of his hands for being with you, or arriving at his parents' house with your hand in his ready to introduce you as his girlfriend and partner. He wanted all of that and more.

"Do you really want to be mine, Tae?" You murmured still feeling on a cloud high in the sky but afraid that everything would be a joke.

"Am I not obvious enough, ____? You are the one I flew across the world for just so I could hold you in my arms. And what more romantic place to ask you to be my girlfriend than Paris. The city of love can now be ours… so what do you say?"

"I say you're crazy," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers gently stroking the hairs on his head as you gazed at him lovingly, "and I'd love to be yours on the condition that you're mine too."

"I would want nothing more than to be yours, love." With those final words, he connected his lips in a soft and slow kiss that reflected all the emotions that were invading them both at that moment. It had really happened, you were already a couple and ypu could not be more in love.

"We will always have Paris, it will always be ours from now on. Just you and me."

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billthedrake · 1 year

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GOALS (PART SEVEN)

Story idea by and collaboration with top son Turner ([email protected]).

TWO YEARS LATER...

[SCOTT]

The fourth day of the hike was the most spectacular. It made the longer day worth it. It helped that Austin and I took lots of breaks. Mid-afternoon, we were resting on a rock for a water break.

"Tough for a Tennessee boy to admit," Austin said. "But this beats the Smokies."

I laughed. I took off my ball cap and wiped the sweat out of my hair. Austin liked my hair medium-length in that executive cut. So that's how I kept it, neatly and professionally trimmed, the silvery gray predominating these days.

It had been that way with my gym time, too. Austin guided me into focusing on the things that turned him on more... chest, arms, and ass/legs. I'd gotten some of my midsection padding back, and turns out Austin was into that, too. He kept me motivated and in shape for an old guy, so I was happy to do what made him happy.

It had been an adjustment. The move to Phoenix two years ago, embracing divorced life, and living with another man. The ups and downs of a relationship. I was going to be working a few extra years, but my compensation was great, and it was worth it to be able to treat Austin to a nice vacation like this without pinching pennies.

"Hiya," came the voice of a group that walked from behind us. Four younger dudes in their early 30s. "Mind if we take a break here as well? Looks like a nice spot."

"Be our guest," I gestured.

We made small talk. The guys were doing some bachelor-party trip.

Austin congratulated the groom to be.

"Bachelor parties have gotten a lot more involved since I had mine," I grinned.

"Vegas?" the shorter dude asked with a chuckle.

"New Orleans," I said. "Steakhouse, and a strip club. And too many hurricanes."

"Jason here didn't want the typical shit." The blond guy speaking was cute, I had to admit. Not Austin cute, but I realized I could appreciate a man in a way I didn't five years ago.

Jason took a sip of water then turned to us. "What brings you guys here? Just a regular vacation?"

I spoke up. "My son and I like to do a big hike once a year. Kind of our tradition," I smirked over at Austin.

"That's cool," one of the guys said. "My Dad isn't walking more than to his car in the mall parking lot."

The shorter dude was getting impatient. "Ready to get moving, guys?" They all had a type-A vibe, and he clearly had motivation for a fast pace.

"Yeah," the blond dude said. I felt a little guilty feeling a sexual attraction to him. But while I'd sucked Austin first thing that morning, I hadn't gotten off that day.

We watched them take off, though, and took one more minute to enjoy the view. "Guess your old man is holding you back."

"You kidding, Dad?" he asked. Then softly. "I still can't believe we're doing this."

I had a rule: we only did the roleplay in the bedroom or in a context where we'd be anonymous. But it was a trip to see the effect of the latter on Austin.

I winked and pulled my cap back on. "Let's get going."

This day was our longest, and I was exhausted when we reached out campsite. It made me feel better that Austin was visibly tired too. Silently we set up our tend and didn't waste time making our dinner.

Normally, physical exertion kills my libido, but I was behind in the count and sex was on my mind. And I enjoyed seeing Austin in his scruffy, sweaty hiking mode. We'd held off shaving for the week, and while my scruff was mousy gray, Austin's made him look older and more masculine.

I was getting used to this too. Austin had that almost baby-faced jock next door look when he first started training me, but he was looking more and more like a man entering the prime of his life. That turned me on, too. I felt like I had the best of both worlds, a young stud who could rock my world in the sack, and a thoughtful young man who was becoming more mature by the year.

"Tough day, huh?" Austin spoke. We'd packed a flask of bourbon to toast our last night, but it seemed like a good idea to dip into it now for a sip. He raised his plastic cup toward me to toast.

I took a sip. The air was getting cooler now that the sun was getting lower. "I have a goal, Austin," I said. It was an idea that had occurred to me the last few days. "I want to do this at 60."

He shot me a playful smile. Like one of those he'd give me in the gym when I was doing well. "This hike?" he asked.

"Not this one, but a challenge. It's special doing this... with you."

He smirked. "Not with that that blond dude from earlier?" he teased.

So he'd noticed. I blushed and stammered. "Come on, Austin..." I felt bad for being caught in my lust for another guy but also peeved that Austin was calling me out on it.

"It's cool, Scott... you're a man not a robot," he said thoughtfully. I wouldn't say he was happy I was into another dude, but he seemed relieved. Instinctively I knew it was because he looked at other men all the time. "I've seen you look at women, and it's cool to see another side of you."

"It's like you're encouraging me," I said, frustrated. I had reconciled a lot in this affair and relationship with Austin. I was still getting used to being with another man. But this kind of talk made me uncomfortable. It reminded me of my own cheating history, and made me insecure in Austin's attraction to me.

He shrugged and spread his legs as he took another sip. His legs were amazing. I loved all of Austin's body, but his tree trunk thighs may be ranking up there with my favorite turn on. They were big and knotted and had gotten furrier. The rounded calves were just the bonus.

"For a while I thought you were less a bisexual and more an Austin-sexual," he smiled. "Not that there's anything wrong with that," he chuckled.

I had to laugh, too. Austin had a way of winning me over. I'd have to examine why I hard time being upset with him, but for now I enjoyed the content feeling I had with him and around him.

Then Austin got a real quiet, intent look on his face, his eye contact heavier. "That was real hot earlier, by the way, Dad," he almost whispered. We were some distance from the next tent, but maybe caution was a good thing.

I felt my dick get firm. I wanted Austin in the worst way right then. The whole intimacy of this trip together and the fact he wanted me too was going to make me rock hard.

"I figured you liked that," I said back. "....son."

"Can I pay you back, sir?" he asked.

I nodded. "What do you have in mind?"

He flashed me a toothy grin. "Let's get in the tent, sir, and I'll show you."

For all the upheaval in my life this was the payoff. The ease and excitement of sex, regular sex. I kept waiting for this phase to end, but the sexual chemistry was still off the charts.

We got into the tent and zipped it up. Slowly we stripped down. Sweaty, but that's just how sex would be this week. Our naked bodies connected as we made out. Our stubbled softly scratched each other's as we got into it. I let Austin get on top of me and he seemed to get real excited as he kissed me and humped me and pawed at my body. He was getting his second wind after a long day's hike.

"This is for you, Dad..." he growled against my neck. "Love you so much." Then he began kissing down my hairy body. I sometimes had to remind Austin I loved getting head, too. I knew he liked getting serviced and I loved servicing him. So I didn't need equal. But I got excited that this perfect young man was taking the initiative in going down on me. And not a rush job, either, but nice slow up and down bobs on my hard dick.

"Oh Austin," I gasped, "Son... suck me."

I looked down at his handsome face burying itself in my crotch. I worked my fingers through his matted hair. I thought back to the first time Austin blew me, how that felt like my first real blowjob on so many levels. I thought about the future and hoped there would be many more times. My son, bringing me off... Austin's fantasy, but increasingly mine.

"Son!" I gasped, my word cut off as my orgasm started. Austin moaned around my dick as he drank my seed.

[AUSTIN]

I tried to talk Scott out of the week of the resort tacked on to the end of our hike. But he was right. The relaxation felt like a great reward. We played golf every day and enjoyed relaxing with drinks and dinner with mountain views in the evening.

Besides, that was our division of labor. I took the lead in the bedroom and Scott made the big planning decisions. Not without my input, but I enjoyed him in that "dad" role. It made the fucks that much hotter.

The second day was the first time I'd beaten him at golf. Ever. I was on cloud nine when we got back to our bungalow, but the big surprise was how happy he seemed to be. Scott's pretty competitive when it comes to golf.

"Big day for my boy, huh?" He muttered as he tossed his ballcap on the table and turned toward me. His gray hair was disheveled with the day's sweat and he was getting tan lines and raccoon eyes from a week and a half of being outdoors. The man simply looked amazing.

"What do I get for winning?" I smirked.

He shook his head. "I've blown you every damn day of vacation, boy," he grumbled with a hint of a smile. "What more do you want?"

I undid my golf shorts and slipped them off. I was throwing hard from the anticipation and Scott's gaze made me firm up more, especially as I slid my boxer briefs off. "Take a wild guess."

He flashed a lusty grin and stepped up to me, reaching out to grab my bone. "Let me get ready," he said huskily, then met me for a kiss.

I gave him a good head start but when I heard the shower run, I grabbed some lube and went to open the bathroom door to join him. "Let me help you," I said as I stepped into the shower.

"Uh oh," he joked. "Last time we didn't make it out before getting off."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" I asked.

I pulled his wet soapy body to my own warm muscle. Scott loved my build and as much as he did his best to match his build to my desires, I got off on how much he loved my younger, harder bulk.

It had been over a week since we'd fucked. It just hadn't been practical at the backcountry campsites and the hike had been physically draining on me as well as Scott. We'd even been too tired on arrival that first day at the resort. I was always happy with his blowjobs and I'd enjoyed giving him several as well. But this felt overdue.

I reached to where I'd put the lube and squirted a bunch into my hand. "Turn around, Dad."

He nodded and I watched him step out of reach of the shower spray so I could grease him up deep between his buns. "Every time is as hot as the first," I said as I worked two fingers inside him.

"I spoil ya kiddo," he said as I now put a third inside him. He pushed his ass back to meet my probing hand, urging me to work him open. To prepare him.

"Yah, you do," I grunted. Scott knew my buttons all right and knew how and when to push them.

"You gonna let your dad spoil you some more?" His question was deep and husky. I imagined the voice he used in board meetings and my dick spurted some pre cum onto the shower tile.

I lined up behind him. Between the water and soap and lube, he felt real wet. "Yeah, Dad, I'm gonna let ya spoil me."

I thrust into him. I let out an excited cry.

"That's it, buddy. Hit your daddy's spot." He braced himself on the shower wall. The water was spraying our sides. We'd had shower sex before but this was off the charts. "Only my big boy knows how to get the job done."

I gave steady deep motions of my cock past his p-spot and plunging into his tight bowels. I held on to his soapy wet muscle, that dad muscle and fucked faster. "God, Dad!" I hissed. For all that I'd been the one to urge him to do the dad/son play and to be verbal, sometimes I was too overcome with excitement to do it well.

Scott, meanwhile, was on fire that day. "You beat me fair and square today, son.... how bout you get me off hands free?" His arms were still up, and though I couldn't see his dad spike I knew Scott was rock hard.

My blood pulsed in my brain as much as my cock. One button after another, and Scott was pushing 'em. "You think you can do that for me today, Dad?" I grunted, slowing my thrusts to a slow grind and nibbling at his ear.

"I want you to teach me, son," came the husky reply. "Teach this old dog some new tricks."

I pushed up into him. My cock felt slick now from it all. Like I was already cumming in him, though I wasn't. "Yeah, Dad, let's do it."

I pulled back and wiped the water from my face before holding his hips and pumping him again. The slow and hard trick.

Scott reached down and jerked, but just for like three seconds, to prime the pump. Then he pulled back and braced himself on the tile.

"You there yet?" I asked excitedly. I was surprised he didn't stroke more and figured he was ready to cum already.

He shook his head. "Not yet, son.... I feel so turned on though... your cock in me... fucking me."

I watched him start to reach down again. Only he resisted temptation. I heard his soft deep voice. "I want you to get me off son. Just your cock.... think you can do that buddy?"

My voice was heavy with lust. Scott made a big deal about me showing him what sex with men was about, but he was opening me up to this. "Yeah, Dad, I can do it." Of course I had doubts we'd be able to get him off just like this, but the boast was for Scott's sake, and my own. I was getting crazy turned on as I pumped into him steadily.

I knew this would take longer than our usual fucks, and it did. I had nowhere to go, but I shut off the water and enjoyed the slick sounds of our mating. And Scott's soft deep grunts urging me to fuck him. Seeing and feeling the hard, more mature dad muscle in his shoulders and back as I boned him. Seeing his arms quiver as he started feeling it.

"You feeling it, Dad?" I asked, excited. I always loved feeling Scott's ass gripping my cock, but the idea of fucking the cum out of him was even hotter.

"Yeah, son," Scott growled. I could hear that pained wanna-cum sound in his voice.

I fucked with extra hard jabs, holding him tightly. "Come on Dad!" I grunted. "Come for your boy. Make me happy... I know you can do it...." My hips were now a blur. "You love pleasing me... don't fucking stop now."

That tripped the man's wires. His 54-year-old body seized up and his cock shot hard against the shower wall.

"Fuck, Dad!" I cried. My own prick was ejaculating now, too, slickening up his insides.

I took a beat to recover my breath and feel my cock pulse, then I pulled him up flush to my wet chest and kissed the side of his neck. "What do I get if I win tomorrow?" I growled.

"I don't know," I heard softly. "Maybe the green light?"

I held him still. I knew immediately what he was talking about. Scott knew I would marry him in a heartbeat, and he also knew I had hang ups about being the one to propose. "I thought you didn't want to get married again."

Scott slipped from my grasp. Turning on the water again, he stepped under the spray for a final rinse. I followed suit, then we turned off the water and began toweling off. Our senses coming to us as the sex endorphins wore off.

"Logically, I still don't think it's the right thing. But emotionally..." he said. "I wanna make you happy Austin."

I reached up and ran my finger along his chin. "Well, maybe I need to learn from your logical side, Dad. And your experience. I won't rush things."

Scott looked at me with a conciliatory look. "Maybe we can just enjoy the honeymoon phase for a bit." He had a sly look as he gestured down. "I think you were pretty worked up just now, Austin. Your cum's running down my leg."

Holy shit, it was. I'd had some mind-blowing sexual experiences in my years, but that made me bone up again, fully. Scott gripped my post-fuck renewed erection and gave it a soft, teasing stroke.

"We'll take care of this bad boy after dinner, whaddya think?" he said. "I'm starving right now." Casually he got a washcloth and wiped up my excess sperm from his leg and crack, then padded out to get dressed for dinner.

I ogled him as we both slipped on some shorts and polo shirts. "Don't know if I can keep my logical side in charge," I admitted.

Scott chuckled and pulled my hand so that I stepped toward him. "You don't think I can't read you like a book, kiddo?" he growled. "Come on, another kiss before dinner."

"Yessir," I mumbled seconds before my lips met his.

THE END

#drakestories

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highfunctioningflailgirl · 7 months

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10 mg of Truth

Cas approached Dean’s hospital room with a mixture of trepidation and misery pulling on his heartstrings. On the one hand, he was incredibly relieved that Dean was alive and would make a full recovery. On the other hand, Dean was in a lot of pain, and Cas knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. He’d depleted his grace saving the hunter from those five rabid demons who’d tossed him about like a football. For the time being, there was no juice left in him to heal the numerous fractures Dean had suffered, and it would be hard to have to watch him heal the old-fashioned, painful way.

Cas steeled himself before knocking softly on the door and entering Dean’s room.

He was awake - or as awake as someone on a high dose of morphine could be. Drowsy green eyes blinked at Cas from a face mottled with bruises. Dean’s right leg was in a heavy cast, his left arm immobilized in a sling to protect his broken collarbone. The thin hospital gown, Cas knew, was hiding a spectacular swath of bruising across Dean’s fractured ribs.

“Hey,” Cas greeted him softly.

“Hey…” A loopy smile tugged on Dean’s split lip when he recognized his visitor. He blinked again, as if those long, thick lashes of his were too heavy to keep his eyes open.

Cas’ heart did a sweet, painful little flip. He stood awkwardly by the side of the bed.

“How are you, Dean?”

That was what one asked a recuperating human, right?

Dean lazily clucked his tongue. “Peachy. Good as new in a few weeks. Hell, better than new!” He nodded at his leg. “They put hardware into me. I’ll be friggin’ Robocop!” He grinned, revealing his somehow adorably chipped front tooth.

Surprised, Cas couldn’t help but smile. He’d expected an angry, impatient Dean in a get-me-out-of-here temper. He’d expected a clenched jaw and the white-knuckled denial of pain. He’d expected the classic Winchester bravado on full display.

What he hadn’t expected was cheerful, drugged-to-the-gills charisma, and it was making him a little dizzy.

“I’m sorry that I can’t speed up your recovery,” he said, remembering his earlier woe. “At least not yet. I hope my grace refuels swiftly, so that, when we have you home–”

“Nah,” Dean interrupted him, flapping his good hand. “Don’t worry about it, Cas. You saved my ass. At least most of it.” He shifted with a goofy, crooked expression on his face. “Got a boot print on my left tush the size of Kansas, ‘s far as I can tell. But I’m alive, an’ those motherfuckers would’ve ganked me if it hadn’t been for you.”

Cas didn’t know what to say to that. But he didn’t have to, since Dean continued his hopped-up rambling.

“‘Sides,” he slurred, mischief in his eyes, “the nurses are really nice to me. And they’re hot. Well, most of them. Should’ve seen the one who took my temperature this morning. She was…” He gestured a “chef’s kiss” and smacked his lips. “Not as hot as you, though.”

Cas blinked.

What?

“Course, no one could beat that angel vibe you’ve got going on,” Dean continued, unfazed and chatty. “‘Holy’ my ass. You, Mr. Hot Accountant - “ Dean winked at him. “- were made for sin.”

Cas, struck dumb, felt his cheeks flush and his heart somersault in his chest. He’d felt attracted to Dean for so long, had hidden it as best as he could, badly, but determinedly, certain that, in spite of their special bond, Dean would never feel the same way about him. And now this - a medically induced, uninhibited flirt?

“Ah, yes- I mean, no!” he stammered. “Thank you, I -...” He struggled for words. He didn’t want to break the moment, desperately wanted to know if Dean meant this, or if it was just the meds talking. But he also didn’t want to take advantage of someone who was clearly off his head with pain meds and who, most likely, wouldn’t remember a single thing he’d said the next day.

“Cat eat your tongue?” Dean asked, his grin drooping sleepily.

Utterly confused, Cas looked around. “There is no cat.”

Dean huffed, wincing a little when the movement jarred his ribs.

“Cas,” he said softly, losing the fight against his heavy eyelids now. “I love you, man. Never change.”

His unencumbered hand searched and found Cas’ arm and slid down his sleeve against Cas’ palm. Castiel grasped and held it.

The angel had no idea what to say. Or what to think. How to correctly interpret Dean’s words. Chaos in his head and hope surging in his chest, he just stood there, Dean’s warm, calloused hand in his, and watched the hunter close his eyes and drift off to sleep.

#suptober23 #no.13 #flirt #fanfic #castiel #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #fluff #hurt/comfort #oopsie #destiel in the making #injury cw

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ryehouses · 1 month

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heeeeyyyy

if it's not an indscretion... i saw that you had planned a jedi!din fic... and that it may not come to light... so if i could ask, what would it have been about?

thx even if you don't wanna answer xo

howdy!

fortunately for you i've never had any discretion ever!

i'm not gonna say that it will never see the light of day, because i keep things in my wip folder for years and years sometimes, chipping away at 'em little by little, but! on the off chance (or slightly more than an off chance, given my current self-imposed project workload) that i never get it up to posting quality, the rough idea:

i kind of incepted myself with force sensitive!din while working on a simple thing and put a little brainworm in the back of my head: ast!din is not force-sensitive enough to have been picked up by the jedi prior to the clone wars, but what if he had been?

the fic would've been (maybe will be?) kind of a season 1 retelling where, instead of being a traumatized mandalorian bounty hunter, din is a traumatized ex-jedi initiate who was out on the gathering during order 66, and subsequently managed to survive the initial purge. he's been bouncing around the galaxy ever since, doing all kinds of things to both a) stay alive and b) stay out of the empire's way.

post-empire he's kind of at loose ends; jedi aren't being hunted any more, but din doesn't really know any other way to live, so he keeps doing what he's doing and ends up on nevarro, looking for work, at the same time as some big, rude mandalorian warrior in blue and yellow armor picks a fight with what looks to din like the entire nevarran bounty hunter's guild, and hey, wait, is that mandalorian carrying master yoda?

cue din and paz's reluctant adventures across the galaxy as they run from the empire -- which, din is less than happy to find, is still hunting jedi -- and search for other jedi. it is the world's most awkward co-parenting arrangement, because paz is an asshole and din is emotionally stunted.

some miscellaneous vibes:

din has a kyber crystal, but no lightsaber, because he and his cohort were attacked leaving ilum after their gathering

din somehow still has the razor crest, not paz. din won it in a card game

din still doesn't know much about star wars

had the clone wars not hit, din would have wanted to go into the agricorps, not the jedi temple; he has a spectacular green thumb

baby jedi!din took one look at mace windu vapaad'ing all over the place and went "!!!! yes!!!"

he did know yoda -- yoda always made time to visit with the younglings and initiates -- and is really weirded out that yoda, or someone from the same species, was capable of producing a smaller yoda

the fic title came from some noah kahan lyrics, so you know it was going to be at least twice as melodramatic as it needed to be

so! who knows. i'd love to work on it some more some day!

#ask box #writing tag #sideways tag

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jgroffdaily · 2 months

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Excerpts

Stars Jonathan Groff and Karan Soni and director Roshan Selthi on the joy of making “A Nice Indian Boy,” joking: “An independent film needs a famous white person to get made.”

When Jonathan Groff met with director Roshan Sethi about a role in the romantic comedy A Nice Indian Boy, he asked Sethi to cast Karan Soni as his love interest. Groff assumed Soni was straight, but he’d seen the Deadpool actor in Sethi’s first movie, 7 Days, and liked his vibe. As it turns out, Groff’s request had already been granted: Not only is Soni gay, but he’s been dating Sethi since 2018. Sethi thought he’d have to work to court Groff—“An independent film needs a famous white person to get made,” he half-jokes—when in actuality Groff was already envisioning the exact film that now exists.

To hear the trio talk about A Nice Indian Boy is to hear tales of kismet and glee (Groff pun intended). “It felt like an emotional throuple,” Soni tells The Daily Beast’s Obsessed, also half-joking. The movie unleashed its charm at the SXSW Film and TV Festival on Tuesday, capping off an intensely personal experience for Sethi and his cast.

A Nice Indian Boy, initially a play by Madhuri Shekar, is built on a meet-cute at a local temple. During prayer, down-on-his-luck doctor Naveen (Soni) catches the eye of a dreamy photographer named Jay (Groff), and soon his wish for romance has been fulfilled. Jay was adopted by an Indian family and immersed himself in their culture, but he’s far more comfortable in his sexuality than Naveen, who avoids introducing Jay to his folks (Zarna Garg and Harish Patel) until they’re engaged. It’s Meet the Parents: Hindu Edition. But not only is he bringing a boy home—he’s bringing a white boy home. With that, A Nice Indian Boy goes from a romantic comedy to a comedy of manners to a spectacular wedding comedy.

Together, Sethi and Soni wrote 7 Days, a straight rom-com co-starring Geraldine Viswanathan. That was a warm-up act for A Nice Indian Boy, a movie that begins with one dazzling Indian wedding—that of Naveen’s sister (Sunita Mani)—and ends with another. When producers sent Sethi the film script adapted by Eric Randall (In the Dark), it was like clouds parting. Here was something he and Soni had contended with their entire lives: being gay in a culture that loves elaborate marriage rituals as long as they don’t involve two men or two women. If 7 Days was like their senior year of high school, Soni says, A Nice Indian Boy was their freshman year of college, full of new liberation.

“Halfway through making the movie, Roshan was like, ‘This might be the most personal thing we ever do, so we should really soak it all in,’” recalls Soni, whose other credits include Miracle Workers and Always Be My Baby. “This checks so many boxes of our experience, and to do it together is so rare. I remember him saying, ‘We should experience and feel everything,’ which is also Jonathan rubbing off on us, because that’s all this man does. He is in the moment. He’s never on his phone in between takes. He loves to talk about things. We want to be more like Jonathan.”

Groff says he picked up the no-phones-on-set thing from Keanu Reeves, who would strike up conversation between takes while they were shooting The Matrix Resurrections. Jay is the more sanguine character in the film, so Groff’s grounding presence was life imitating art. But even if the Broadway veteran helped to secure the project’s financing, he wasn’t the biggest celebrity around. That honor belonged to Garg, the comedian, podcaster, and TikTok superstar who recently opened for Tina Fey and Amy Poehler’s tour. During the Vancouver production, locals stopped their cars in traffic to catch her attention. “It was harder for her to go places than anyone,” Sethi laughs.

Not everything was uplifting, though. Sethi reached out to various Hindu religious leaders to find a consultant for the wedding scenes. Not a single Vancouver priest—including one billed as “the most liberal pundit in Canada,” who apparently sent Sethi a homophobic slur in response—agreed to participate. However crushing, such reactions underscored the importance of a film that’s very much about internal and external acceptance. Sethi and Soni eventually enlisted a priest based in Malibu who FaceTimed them from his stylish convertible.

For Groff, aspects of A Nice Indian Boy were like an analog to Looking, the swoony HBO series that also featured amorous walk-and-talks. “I could kind of be transparently myself while playing the character and not feel inhibited," he says. "Karan talked about that, too. When we get to do something gay, there’s this feeling of extra freedom. When it’s a gay story, it feels ultra-personal.”

Independent filmmakers like Sethi are reinvigorating a genre that has long attracted gay audiences without featuring them in principal roles.

“Even though there were financial and logistical obstacles that kept cropping up, it was an experience of pure joy,” Sethi says. “Halfway through, I was like, ’Maybe it will never be this good again.’ We did it with people we love about a subject we love.”

#jonathan groff #Karan Soni #Roshan Sethi #a nice indian boy

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emsuemsu · 5 months

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@hprecfest day 29: post-canon

I had such a hard time to come up with recs for this! I feel like I say that about each and every one of these prompts 🥵 Like I could've had a field day with some good drarry content, but I wanted to talk about some of my favorite next gen/cross gen fics! These are not Cursed Child complaint I guess, since I don't really regard that as canon. Does anyone??? I don't read next gen as much as I'd want to, but these stories have a piece of my heart with them:

oh, i'm gonna let the future in by @thealmostrhetoricalquestion 🩵 41,480 words, scorpius/albus

Al doesn’t know what he’s doing. Not just with the new apartment, but with his life in general, and it doesn't help that his family quietly looks down on him. It feels as if they’re always waiting for him to do something spectacular, but without actually expecting it of him. They’ve given up on expecting anything of him. Al only speaks English, and he sings in the shower, badly. He likes tea, and he cleans when he’s stressed. He sees a therapist. He has a total of two friends, and one of them is his cousin. He isn’t smart; he’s simple. He wishes that could be enough.

🥹 it's been a while since I've related this much to a character in any form of media as I relate to Albus in this fic. And reading the comments to this story it seems like I'm definitely not the only one. That makes me personally feel pretty warm, like okay I'm not the only one who feels like a walking human dumpster fire at times. This is one of my all time favorite fics, I always come back to it for some comfort. It's so real and touching, the first time I read this I had to throw my phone away and sob just finishing the first part of the first chapter. It’s serving some certified middle child vibes. Lovelovelove this.

Brighter Than the Sun by @goldentruth813 🩵 12,842 words, draco/james sirius

James Sirius Potter is gorgeous. He's also half Draco's age. Getting emotionally involved with him would be a complete and utter disaster. Fortunately for Draco, he's had a lifetime of practice compartmentalizing his feelings. Draco can definitely handle fucking James—young, beautiful, rash James Sirius Potter—with no strings attached.

Now when I said I've read smut so good I've cried this is one example of that. This fic is so fucking hot in all the ways and more, I adore both Draco and James in this so much. And it’s not only the smut that gets you good in this fic – it’s the feels also. I’m absolutely wrecked by this fic. Now unfortunately the goorrggeeoouuusss art by @mzuul is no longer available for some reason, I have some hazy memories of the pieces and I’d give my hypothetical first born child to see them again 🥺

#hprecfest2023 #harry potter fic rec #next gen #my rec

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yellowocaballero · 2 years

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just rereading your reverse robins au...i have to say, i don't think anyone understands tim drake like you do. by far the most superior reverse robins au to ever exist. and it's not like tim is the only character you understand either! you get them all! it's earthshattering & spectacular.

I would love to demur and go "oh, surely I'm not the only one who understands Tim Drake and writes a suitably unhinged Tim just as unhinged as in the comics -"

No. I am. You guys need to shape up about writing Tim. What is with this sadboy 'I just want a family' 'where's my coffee' woobie stuff. Go back and read the comics. This man is fucking insane.

I've talked before on this blog about how I finagled writing a Tim who is very much unlike any Tim, but who still feels the same. The man REALLY canonically has an addictive/obsessive personality (complete with deeply escapist tendencies and disregard for if the object of addiction is dangerous/bad for him - it is the profile of an addict). We feel that, because it's his personality in the comics, and even though no sane person would write the kid with a coke addiction we still vibe that it fits with what we know of him. Sometimes choosing to write somebody DRASTICALLY out of character can get down into the core of the character better than anything else.

In fanfic people write Tim as perpetually seeking a family, and I think on one level it's true - he LOVED Dick's (guilty.) attention and brotherhood. But I don't think he really had a father relationship with Bruce and I don't think he really wanted it. Man literally tried to falsify an uncle so he wouldn't have to suffer adult supervision. Bruce kept him at an emotional arms length because of Jason. When his dad tried to reconnect with Tim as a teenager, Tim did love him and felt guilty for the discord he caused, but he just straight up wasn't emotionally invested in the relationship(and not really for abuse reasons - comic split between bad parents/abusive parents is uhh ill-done, but I think Jack is almost never written as an abusive parent with authorial intent, which imho is the important thing). Tim holds adults and family figures at arms length. He's close with Young Justice, but they never even know his ID - he loves them, but he's not intimate with them. He is a cold person and he never really tries for anything different, when he has something different he has NO idea what to do with it, and I don't think he really wants it. But like that doesn't fit Batman sad baby adoption narrative soooo

I think at the end of the day what Tim is defined by is loss and absence, and it can never be defined by presence because Tim is no longer a person who can accept that. He is the single most interconnected character in the Batfam (DC was pushing for a lot of #teenheroes at the time and he was buddies with ALL of them), but all of those relationships have an absence where Tim is pathologically incapable of vulnerability. His life is comedically, comic book sad - he has lost a dad, a mom, a step-mom, an adoptive dad (400% PARENTAL MORTALITY RATE), a girlfriend, a best friend, and another best friend. That is NUTS. And cuz comics are kinda whatever about things, he just goes on his way. Comics don't acknowledge these things. But what you end up with is a Tim, who one way or another is always alone, and who always accepts that.

I couldn't quite express everything I wanted to express with Tim in the prophetic spring, but by the Cass story I had improved as a writer enough to show what I wanted to show. Tim is an old character with a lot of stuff going on, so I could basically pick any emotional throughline I wanted, but I picked for me what I think has defined his life. Tim's story was about a child who had been depressed since he could remember. Tim is the story of a lot of victims of emotional neglect and who live their lives in deep depression that is never acknowledged. He is never vulnerable for a second (even with Cass - and that's what Cass struggles with during that story, how vulnerability isn't knowing but saying), and the depression is sublimated/repressed and never acknowledged cuz Bruce does the same damn thing and he didn't notice lol.

In a way, in that story, Tim's mental health and drug addiction spiral is a good thing. Tim loudly and publicly developing a drug addiction was his way of asking for help, his way of finally screaming that he was in pain. Worst possible way. But it was kind of the only way he could, because Tim didn't know how to ask for help, because he didn't know how to be vulnerable. He could only figure out how to be push everybody away and try to violently throw them out of his life and how to be cruel to them, and it's fucked up that it was his way of asking for help - but Cass knew, and Cass understood. And Cass wasn't going to ignore it anymore.

There are a lot of insanely reliable things about me and it is that I CANNOT shut up when I talk about Tim. Thanks for reading this long-ass diatribe jakldfjlasdf.

#my writing #i hate most things i wrote in 2019 #and that's part of the reason why i uploaded the cass thing although i didnt mean to #i rly wanted ppl to walk away with a better tim than i had written in 2019 #redhood!tim is one of my more favorite and more ambitious characters ive done #so im glad i could do a better job and a better deep dive #and just really get into what childhood depression looks like over the course of a life #and how it shapes his life and himself

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gotlostonmywayhome · 3 months

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Girl Back There Valentine's Day Self-Rec List

I've been kind of going through it with my physical and mental health over the last several months. I haven't been doing a whole lot of creating as a result. I attempted to do something for Valentine's Day, a ficlet, a drabble, a moodboard, something, but I've been lacking the time and motivation.

While I'm working on not letting that get me down, I thought I would at least do a self-rec list to put out work that I have done in hopes that I will get back to my creating ways someday. I've only written one fic that is Valentine's Day themed, but I do have a few soft, squishy fics for you to enjoy the holiday with.

A Holiday More Meaningless than President’s Day (Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton, Rated M, 5k)

Clint has a minor problem. Despite seeing all the advertisements and heart decorations everywhere, Clint hasn’t thought about Valentine’s Day. Now he is wondering if the Russian spy/assassin/all-around-badass he has been secretly banging like a faulty screen door for the last few months wants to celebrate the holiday. Since Bucky wants to keep their thing a secret, does that mean he doesn't want to celebrate? Would Bucky be upset if Clint treated today as a normal Sunday? Does Clint want to treat today as a normal Sunday? And even if Bucky does acknowledge the holiday, how does one handle this day with a fuck-buddy? Clint is nowhere near psychologically mature enough to handle these things.

Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet (Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Rated M, 6.2k)

Bucky doesn’t know how his mother managed to Jedi mind trick him into dropping off Becca at summer camp this year, but she somehow did it. Despite his grumpiness at the unreasonable hour in which he was wrenched from his nice and cozy bed, Bucky is glad for this time with his little sister. Becca spends their time talking about the activities she got to do last summer that she hopes will be back again this year, all of which was organized by Steve Rogers. After she came home from Camp Marvel last year, all Becca could talk about was Steve Rogers, one of the counselors for her team, The Howlies. Steve Rogers was an amazing artist. Steve Rogers participates in all of the competitions despite his asthma, scoliosis, heart arrhythmia, and various other medical issues. Steve Rogers totally drinks his respect women juice. Bucky would be worried about his sister may be developing a crush on this Steve guy, but after meeting him, Bucky is more preoccupied with the crush he's developing on Steve. So preoccupied in fact, he ends up signing on to be a camp counselor for the summer.

The Sunrises in Wakanda (Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Rated G, 2.8k)

The sunsets in Wakanda are unrivaled if you ask anyone lucky enough to see them and Bucky agrees. They are truly spectacular, but Bucky prefers the sunrises. The start of a new day in this life he managed to carve for himself since the fall of Hydra.

(More after the cut)

In a room full of art, I'd still stare at you (Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Rated E, 9.6k)

The blond grabs his chest and throws his head back, laughing with his whole body. Bucky can hear the sound from where he is across the gallery. The sound is far deeper than Bucky could have anticipated on a man that small. Bucky can feel the sides of his mouth curl upwards at hearing that laugh. As if his thoughts called out to him, the blond looks over and catches Bucky staring. Bucky should look away, he’s being rude and creepy, but he can’t. Those startling blue eyes have him snared.

Animal Husband(ry) (Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Rated T, 1.2k)

Ear scratches, man, they are the best.

Vibe Check (Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Rated T, 1.1k)

Harley and Peter worked too hard to get their dads together for Tony to forget to give Steve flowers.

Love You Latte (Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Rated T, ≤1000)

Clint’s favorite customer strolls in at a quarter to eight. Exactly on time and looking as delicious as ever with the no tie, open collar look. It nearly leaves Clint tongue tied.

Coming Home (And Finding You) (Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Rated T, 1.4k)

Phil has a rough mission. When he gets home, Clint has all of Phil’s favorites ready.

The Universe is Ridiculous (Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Rated T, 1.3k)

Phil should know better and be careful about what he asks for. Or at least be very specific as to what he asks for. The Universe has a wicked sense of humor and will likely do exactly as wished.

#valentines day #v day #fic recs #self recs #marvel #stucky #stony #winterhawk #phlint

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tacomanarrows · 10 months

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Decided I want to post this big project I did back in late May/early June! This was made to celebrate the 5 year anniversary of the release of Owl City's album Cinematic, on June 1st! It'll be a long post, so just be aware of that lmao

Since I started listening to Owl City again earlier this year, Cinematic has become my favorite album of his and one of my all time favs in general alongside Abandoned Pools’ Humanistic and Beat Crusaders’ EPop Making!

So with that, I wanted to draw something based around each song! With 15 songs on the album (not counting alt versions), they all translated nicely into pieces for this project! I also included a film border around each piece to tie them together, as well as due to the fact that on the album itself, each song is about a different experience or memory Adam Young has had throughout his life. He's said that he felt like writing these songs was like watching scenes from a movie, hence the name Cinematic!

As a sidenote, 4 of my characters (Shep, PBnJ, Rye and Pumpernickel) are in a cover band together called Let's Get Back!, and in addition to just celebrating Cinematic, this would also sort of be a cover album by them, hence why it says "Let's Get Back! presents" on the banner :] I'll post more abt Let's Get Back! down the line, but if you'd like to read about them now, you can check out their info hub! These pieces are almost all just Shep, despite Let’s Get Back! being a 4 member group. But since Owl City is just Adam Young, having most of these just be Shep made more sense haha

Piece by piece/song by song breakdown below the cut :]

Track 1: Fiji Water!

A song about jumping into something new and going wherever the ride takes you, since it was about Adam’s experience with signing onto a record label. The water slide vibe just felt rlly fitting here and was really fun to work with!

Track 2: The 5th of July!

Considering I was born in January rather than July like Adam was, I wanted to make this one as young Shep enjoying the fireworks, as they’ve always been something that’s fascinated me :]

Track 3: All My Friends!

My second favorite song on the album!! It’s so joyous and fun I love it so much! Of course, had to draw Shep with all his friends! This piece by far took me the longest out of all of these at more than two days lmao. It features (from left to right): Starburst, Rye, Luau, Shep, PBnJ, Pumpernickel and Wilkołak!

Track 4: House Wren!

Another joyous song about looking for a new house and having a song to sing while doing so. Just Shep listening to the house wren sing it’s happy song, simple yet effective :]

Track 5: Not All Heroes Wear Capes!

A really sweet song Adam wrote about his dad. To capture that sort of innocent admiration, I drew something Shep would have drawn for his dad at 8 years old and I think it came out super sweet <33

Track 6: Montana

I love the feeling of grandeur in this song, with lyrics about how enchanting and spectacular the landscape of Montana is! I’ve never been there myself, but I’ve seen pictures and yeah, it’s definitely amazing! So Shep is out there enjoying the amazing scenery

Track 7: Lucid Dream!

A much more abstract song to balance out the others, I wanted to capture the very, floaty starry vibe of this song for lack of a better term haha. I really like the simplicity of it! I also love the line in the song about being a light sleeper, but a heavy dreamer

Track 8: Always!

This is the one song on the album that doesn’t quite hit the mark for me, and that’s because it’s a song centered around faith. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, I’m just not a religious person. So I decided to interpret the meaning as always having a person you can love and count on to always be by your side, hence why I did it with Shep and PB, who in addition to being bandmates, are also bfs hehe :]

Track 9: Cloud Nine!

Another one of my favs, this is such a PBnShep song <3 What I went for here was a look like they’re outside stargazing and Shep is telling PB how much he cares about him while pointing out some of the amazing things in space

Track 10: Winners Never Quit!

A nice and cheerful song about never giving up and keeping on! I love the message of this one and it’s sort of retro chiptune vibe. Pretty straightforward here, just Shep with a big checkered flag for reaching your personal finish lines!

Track 11: Madeline Island!

My personal favorite out of the three travel related songs on the album (this, Montana and New York City), this one has the same feeling of grandeur that Montana does, but even more so! I also love the story of a camping trip to this island in Lake Superior, so I decided to do that! I also stylized it a bit with colored lineart for the landscape and I rlly like how that came out! Another piece that's up there as one of my favs from this project hehe

Track 12: Be Brave!

A song about the night Adam met his girlfriend at the movie theater, this is another very sweet song with a message about believing in yourself and well, being brave! Shep tends to get flustered and nervous sometimes when meeting up with PB, especially early on, so this song fits him well

Track 13: New York City!

The boys take a trip to NYC and look up at the spectacular Empire State Building! Having grown up about an hour outside of NYC my whole life, I don’t quite have the same ethereal view about it that others might, but I won’t deny it’s impressive! The Empire State Building especially is one of my all time favorite buildings :]

Track 14: Firebird!

A song about growing up, this is another one I really love. I feel like a staple of childhood is sitting with your friends outside at a wall or something similar and just talking abt life and enjoying each other’s company, so that’s what I went for. It’s another simple piece that I really enjoyed making as well as the final result!

Track 15: Cinematic!

And the grand finale!! Cinematic is my favorite song from the album and my second favorite Owl City song overall, just behind Rainbow Veins!! After all of these songs that Adam wrote from his experiences, this song feels like a magnificent culmination of that and a passing of the torch to us to go and be the stars of our own movies and lives! It’s such an amazing song with a fantastic message and I can’t get enough of it! I also used some new brushes to make the film strip and I’m actually super happy with it!

So all in all, Cinematic is my favorite Owl City album and one of my all time favorites in general. Every song is unique and brings a great message and story. This project, although very time consuming, was an absolute blast to work on and brainstorm around. This album means so much to me and I really hope I was able to showcase some of that here. Please go give it a listen if you’ve never heard it before, or even if you have and it’s been awhile! I know there’s a lot of people who don’t like Owl City’s newer stuff, but give this one a fair shake! (Coco Moon is a fantastic follow up too btw hehe) So overall, thank you Adam for making such fantastic music for so long now and I can’t wait to see the show in Indianapolis later this year!!

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itsmyregularcat · 11 months

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In honour of US Tour 6 sadly, but triumphantly, rolling up the proverbial sidewalks, I just wanted to give a general thanks to all of the actors and everyone involved with the production over the past two years or so. These casts were 'my' casts, in the sense that they were the first ones I ever got the opportunity to see live (and subsequently meet) since joining the fandom years ago. There is a loose connection with them that I will always cherish.

I was lucky enough to see the tour a total of five times in three cities between the two non-equity casts, and I loved every second of the days dedicated to seeing driving, seeing new cities and areas, or being giddy about Cats in general.

I would like to do a small 'lookback' post about the days I saw the tour and present a few signed things I got along the way:

The first city was two spectacular nights in Ottawa at the National Arts Center, including my first time ever seeing the show. I was able to meet almost the entire cast at the stage door over both nights, and I will always be thankful for being able to chat with some of them for a few minutes who chose to stop. Shout-outs to Michelle and Zach specifically.

There was something so beautiful about seeing the musical live for the first time, especially at that venue. Little has ever been so captivating as experiencing the show and Jellicle Ball in person.

Here is a nearly full cast signed bag from those nights.

The second city was the only night in Hamilton, Ontario (which was as close to a hometown show for me as the tour could be), where I saw the second cast for the first time. My mind is still blown by how good that show was. It was utterly amazing (and re-reading through the messages I sent to friends about it reaffirms my level of excitement from December). Especially about Yuka as Vic.

I would say that I think was the best overall show I was able to see out of the five. I described it as magical that night, and I still stand by that.

As with before, a nearly full signed bag from that night.

As a preface to the third stop, I have get a bit sappy. The best part of this fandom has always been the opportunity to meet and interact with people from all over the world who love this show. Specifically, I have been blessed to have had Cats introduce me to someone who has become my best friend over the past three years, as well as a few others that I chat with regularly.

Probably the most special stop out of the three, or at least the most spiritually rewarding, was the third one. The last city was all the way out in Binghamton, NY (for me, who drove over 6 hours from southern Ontario to attend) to meet up with real-life Demeter @munku-collar to see the show together.

The fulfilling experience of sitting beside someone and just becoming engrossed in the show in a totally different way than the other times was amazing. The singing along, the loud cheers all throughout, the tears (for real) at times, and all the little dances in our seats made both nights wonderful. The energy and vibes were simply impeccable. Enough that the cast themselves were giving us a bit of extra attention and love while on stage. I am not making that up either, we were actually told that by certain actors afterwards.

It was something we promised to one another would happen, and it was even better than I could have imagined. Especially the second night when she went in full cat. I will never forget the attention or the excitement of the audience reacting to the cosplay, and the joy it created for a lot of them. Being privy to it was something special.

Anyway, talking with Hank (especially) and Brian after the two shows was incredible too. Both of their welcoming demeanors and down to earth attitudes made it feel like I had known them as friends in a small way rather than as a dumbass fan. (I am not even remotely their friends, and will never claim that I am, just to clarify. It will assuredly be the last time I ever talk with them). Either way, I really appreciated their kindness then, and I still do now. They are good dudes.

Regardless, huge huge shout-out, thanks, paws-in (yep), and appreciation to Broadway In Binghamton for gifting me not only an A4 promo poster that I got signed over both nights, but also one of the big-ass show posters straight from the outside lightbox when the show closed.

Below picture for perspective, as the thing is huge, about 5ft x 3ft in size.

I hope that the US Tour returns in some fashion sooner rather than later. The tour represents something greater than just singing and dancing kitty cats to not only the fans but also some of the actors. It is the physical link that reinforces the fascination for fans of course, but also allows for a mutually rewarding experience and even support for those on either side of the stage in my opinion. It is just too special of a show to have it end for long. The people need their kitties.

Thanks for all the good memories US Tour 6. Now and forever and all that. Bring an Electra next time please.

#you know it has to be a pretty special day for me to make an actual post #thanks everyone #cats the musical #cats musical #us tour 6 #shout out to yuka and lexy and taryn and erica and regan and alexia and kelly and michelle and hank and brian and john for all killing it

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girlreviews · 1 month

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Review #365: Madvillainy, Madvillain

This is such an interesting, unique record. Madvillain is (was) comprised of Madlib and MF DOOM, and it’s their only studio album. 22 songs, most of them under three minutes and none feature any kind of traditional structure like choruses or hooks. Despite this it’s cemented itself as not only one of the greatest hip hop records of all time, but also albums of all time in general. I feel like maybe it was lightning in a bottle for this one – although both artists have an incredible and respectable discography on their own.

The story of this record is just as interesting and unique. Madlib and MF DOOM had been collaborating on it for a few years, with DOOM responsible for the lyrics and flows, and Madlib responsible for the beats and production. Seems like it was a match made in heaven, really. MF DOOM is sort of unmatched in his word skills. Seriously though, there’s really plenty of write ups and deconstruction of his style and remarkable abilities, and the guy was absolutely out of this world good at what he did. I’m not particularly well versed in the ins and outs of creating good hip-hop or rap, but I do know that anyone making use of so many different literary devices in their music is some kind of genius. It kind of blows your mind to untangle it all, because it’s hard to comprehend someone being just that talented, but also that clever. If you’re a lover of words and language in general, then you will enjoy a lifelong love with MF DOOM. Or rather, you can, if you look in alternative spaces for exceptional wordsmithing.

Madlib has a really unique and specific sound incorporating really obscure samples from really jazz and soul, which at the time was sort of different, but I imagine is less unexpected now, since Madvillainy set the tone for future music. He also pulled from Indian and Brazilian music. Honestly, just as above, you could spend your entire life poring over all of the details, sounds, and samples and you’d never get bored and never cease to learn. Isn’t that fucking spectacular? That these two particularly unique and gifted artists created a single record together that can provide a lifetime of learning and admiration? And that it almost didn’t happen: just over a year before its release, a demo version of the record was leaked publicly and the duo were so disillusioned from the experience that they stopped working on it for some time. Thankfully, they eventually resumed and released it and now there’s life before Madvillainy, and life after it. I wonder if they knew what they had created before they released it. That public leaking of unfinished work is always such a devastating situation for any artist.

I had been introduced to this album in 2013 when several tracks showed up on various playlists made for me by others. One of them also featured Jai Paul’s BTSTU. His debut album suffered the same fate as Madvillainy, and his promising career was seriously derailed. He remains a bit of an enigma to this day, although he is actually playing live shows in 2024, and I’m excited to be going to one of them. I don’t know, it’s always a really strange thing to happen to a record and sometimes it cements its legendary status and sometimes it destroys the creator.

They created it quite separately and with very little communication. Madlib recorded the majority of the beats and music in Brazil on a cassette tape, sent it to MF DOOM who then added his lyrics. They collaborated without really collaborating and it stands out a lot throughout: MF DOOM was in tune to the sound and incorporated it into his words – take Accordian. The accordian sound on loop throughout comes from Experience by Daedelus. But the final line in the song DOOM makes mention of it:

“Your first and last step playing you like an accordian”

It's simple when you consider it, but that they put this together without actually discussing it and just providing their own individual contributions and vibing off of one another makes it that much more unbelievable that this record was the result. They themselves described the process of creating these songs as “telepathic”, without “a lot of talking”. Two artists with a one-time joint creative mind. I don’t know, I find it hard to put into words just how bananas this all is when you listen to it.

Something that I find fascinating about Madvillainy is the way in which both Madlib and MF Doom incorporated their alias persona’s into it. There are song credits that feature MF DOOM and Viktor Vaughn – the same person delivering the words – but towards each other and from differing perspectives. It’s sort of mind-boggling how this was done: Madlib gets into it with his own alter-ego, Quasimoto on America’s Most Blunted, and DOOM creates a weird love triangle between himself, his girlfriend, and Viktor Vaughn in Fancy Clown. Why? What was the point? Well, why not? And didn’t it produce one of the greatest records of all time? Maybe more artists should get this creative and ridiculous with their work. Pitchfork called Fancy Clown “a brilliant concept” and hailed it as “hip-hop’s first schizophrenic self-diss track”. Think about what they’re really saying there. It’s really, really, very cool.

To be able to give my normal descriptions of what it sounds or feels like, I’d have to listen to it another 100,000 times at least. I find it so dense and overwhelming – in the best way – but there’s nothing to do here but to listen to it. No amount of description from me or any other person reviewing it will adequately convey the magic of it. It’s just really that fucking good. Overlook it at your own expense. Enjoy.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #MF DOOM #madlib #madvillain #madvillainy

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biffhofosho · 2 years

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Vixen

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch.

Word Count: 8.5k

Pairing: Hyungwon x OC

Trope: Strangers to lovers

Synopsis: Inside this room, he finds his doom.

The Vibe: Abandoned buildings, quiet fall nights, cocky boys who refuse to turn down a dare, best frenemies, dense shadows, overactive imaginations, mysterious strangers, overt song references, fighting a losing battle, doing as nature compels, straight up wild fucking, need need need, lust for dominance, the illusion of control, peril, open questions with clues to the answer for the curious reader, who is she?

A/N: The first of my October vibe fics! We’ll see the next one in about a week!

“Wildfire” kind of ruined my life in the most spectacular way, so much like “Tailor Made,” this fic is inspired heavily by the song. Hearing Hyungwon singing those lines demanded something a little spooky and definitively naughty. Felt like experimenting in present tense for a change, too. Oh, what this boy does to me. Down bad.

He isn’t supposed to be here.

Hyungwon knows that. How could he not? Jooheon is convinced the place is haunted, and Hoseok says there isn’t enough ramyun in the world to convince him to walk through those doors, which hang like crooked teeth over a crumbling tongue of weed-infested steps. But it isn’t Minhyuk’s childish dare that ultimately propels him up to the front stoop of the abandoned building; it’s Kihyun’s firm order that Hyungwon is not to do it.

Hyungwon turns around and looks at his six friends. Most of them look worried, save for Kihyun, who’s definitely annoyed, and Minhyuk, who’s positively delighted.

“Remember,” says Minhyuk with his phone out and his timer up, “you have to stay in for a whole hour. If you come out early, I get your PS5.”

Hyungwon scoffs and syncs his timer with his friend’s. “Yeah, yeah, and when I see you in an hour, I get your Gucci messenger.”

“And if you don’t come back out in an hour, don’t expect anyone to go in looking for you,” snaps Kihyun, but Hyunwoo is shaking his head, so Hyungwon knows the eldest will come charging in there regardless looking for him the second the timer ticks to zero.

“This is a stupid bet. Why don’t we just forget it and go get some fried chicken?” Hoseok suggests.

“Let them do what they’re going to do,” Changkyun says with a shrug and goes back to scrolling through his phone without another glance up.

“That’s the problem. Hyungwon always does what he wants to do,” quips Kihyun.

And thanks to that one sentence, it doesn’t matter what anyone else says. Hyungwon is going in. He and Kihyun have been sparring all week since Hyungwon overslept and missed half of their group project session, so he’s bound and determined to put an end to Kihyun’s carping at least until the next time he oversleeps.

Before anyone else can squeeze in another comment, Hyungwon has wriggled through the gap in the sagging boards and leaves behind his biggest critic and all their friends. The moment he’s on the other side of those doors though, his bravado fades. Spite is all well and good to feed his challenge with Kihyun, but it’s no match for his own fertile imagination, which is currently having a field day with his surroundings.

The building is in even worse shape on the inside than it is on the outside. It smells like rot and mildew, and right away, Hyungwon’s “emphysema lungs”—as Minhyuk affectionately calls them—flare up with a cough that he manages to choke down… just in case someone is listening, even though he reminds himself again and again he’s alone. He’s alone.

Hyungwon’s not sure what kind of business this once was, but it was some kind of office judging from the broken typewriter and cobwebbed filing cabinets laying on their sides on the floor. Random ledgers and books litter the rooms and leather chairs spew their cushioning through old tears. It’s hard to tell exactly how long this place has been abandoned, but there’s an old invoice wedged under a busted lamp and a layer of filth that Hyungwon thinks reads “1982.”

It seems odd that a business would leave so much property behind when it closed, let alone in such a scattered mess, and right away, his imagination charges toward the inevitable conclusion that maybe it wasn’t a bankruptcy that drove out these people but something menacing like a fire or a murderer.

Or a ghost.

Hyungwon slaps his cheeks to knock Jooheon’s scaredy-cat voice from his brain.

The urge to serve out his hour just inside the entryway is overwhelming, but that’s not the whole dare. Hyungwon has to make it to the fourth floor—to the room with the moth-eaten curtains where Jooheon swears he saw the ghost of a girl—and wave his phone to everyone below.

He supposes it’s better to do it now rather than later. His friends might think he’s chickening out, and even if he is, he doesn’t want to look like it, not with Yoo Kihyun waiting with an “I told you so” already in the chamber.

Hyungwon takes a deep breath and then a step forward. The board immediately creaks underfoot, but at least it feels solid. He’s not so sure the stairs will be in as good a shape, which is what Hyunwoo was worried about, but Minhyuk said that was part of the challenge.

There isn’t a spot on the floor that doesn’t wail with each footstep, and if a murderous hobo is living upstairs, as Kihyun assumes, there’s no way it doesn’t know a trespasser is on his way.

Hyungwon instead chooses to focus on structural integrity before his mind can manifest a half dozen scary stories, so he plots a course through the hallway toward the stairwell, which is easy to spot thanks to the alley floodlight spearing the holes in the filmy windows. His shoes leave footprints in the dust, so at least he’ll be easy for Hyunwoo to track when he plummets through the floor into the spider-infested basement.

Okay, this was a stupid bet to take, Hoseok was right. It’s not just dangerous—it’s gross here. Hyungwon doesn’t like bugs or dirt or unnecessarily risky adventures. He likes iced americanos and sleeping and arguing with his bossy friends about sleeping, all of which he should be doing now instead of this.

Something creaks overhead.

Automatically, the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

It can’t be a ghost—ghosts don’t have feet, right? It can’t be a murderous hobo—they certainly do have feet, but there’s nowhere in this damn building that doesn’t squeak to hide the other footsteps. It must be a rat or maybe a raccoon. Instead of being reassured, Hyungwon is disgusted. He should just leave. He can always buy another PS5. Might take him a while, but it would be awfully hard to save up if he’s suffering from the bubonic plague.

But then there’s that sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued plague of a best friend out front, no doubt waiting for his own smug victory lap, and that resolves Hyungwon’s mind—the bubonic plague probably has fewer lingering side effects than being bested by Yoo Kihyun.

Hyungwon reaches the stairs. He’s happy to see they’re concrete and in relatively sturdy shape. The railings are another matter—wooden and rotted through—so he’ll have to take his chances without a handhold. He decides to hug the wall, where the integrity should be much stronger, and he heads upstairs.

By the second floor, he’s feeling confident, and by the third, he’s feeling cocky again. But by the fourth, reality sets in. Hyungwon is where he’s supposed to be, but he also feels like he’s definitely not supposed to be here.

For all intents and purposes, the fourth floor looks like the first—filthy and cluttered and creepy—though it’s better lit thanks to the holes in the roof and a brighter stream of streetlights from more sides. But the brighter light has the unintended consequence of casting ominous shadows from things that shouldn’t be terrifying but now are.

Hyungwon nearly teeters backwards down the steps when he catches sight of a coatrack out of the corner of his eye, and he definitely lets out a gasp when he rounds the corner toward the front room and sees a figure at the end of the corridor. That turns out to be a fake potted tree though, and he’s left feeling like both an idiot and a chicken.

There’s another creak, and he flinches before he realizes this one comes from him as he heads down the hallway. This one has a carpet runner, and every footstep wafts up mold and dust that sends his emphysema lungs into a spasming frenzy that he can’t choke back.

His hacking coughs reverberate up and down the fourth floor, and there’s literally no way a murderous hobo won’t hear him now. Hyungwon outright races toward the front room because what’s the point of keeping quiet now if Jooheon’s angry spirits are already onto him?

He reaches the front of the building, out of breath and sweating profusely despite the short jaunt, and checks his timer. Fifty-three minutes left.

Damnit.

Hyungwon glances right then left, double-checking for the curtained room he’s supposed to enter. It’s on the right, and he sighs. He did it. Now just to put on his best indifferent face as a metaphorical middle finger for Kihyun and Minhyuk…

Hyungwon flexes his jaw and shakes out the tension from his face before he enters the room. He heads straight for the window and finds his six friends steadfastly watching for him. Hoseok is draped all over Jooheon, relief visible like a lighthouse even from the fourth floor. Kihyun is scowling per usual while Minhyuk still manages to look confident he will win. Changkyun and Shownu show no emotion, but Hyungwon knows from their dead-eye stares that that’s how they show their support.

Hyungwon waves his phone as instructed, and Hoseok gives two thumbs up. Now, it’s just a matter of the countdown.

He opens his camera app to take a self-righteous selfie, and the second he flips the angle, he’s covered in gooseflesh.

Something is behind him, and it’s definitely not a tree or a coatrack and it’s much too big to be a rat. The light is dim so the camera is struggling with graininess, but whatever’s behind him moves, and Hyungwon’s skin crawls. It’s a subtle shift, as though it doesn’t want to be seen or doesn’t want to be there either, until it finally disappears.

Exactly like a ghost…

Maybe it would be better to pretend he hasn’t seen it at all, but Hyungwon really doesn’t have a choice. He sucks in a hard and fast breath.

He turns around as if in slow motion and finds the other occupant huddled in the corner.

It isn’t a ghost at all, nor is it a murderous hobo.

It’s a woman.

She’s making herself very small from her perch on top of a desk in the corner. Her arms are wrapped around her shins and her chin is behind her knees so only her very wide eyes are peeping at him. When their gazes connect, everything changes for reasons he can’t possibly fathom.

She springs down from the desk, landing on feet so light that the floor doesn’t even creak. She races forward, stopping halfway to Hyungwon. Her head cocks to the side as though she’s trying to figure out why another human’s here instead of the ghost maybe they both were expecting.

“Oh! Hello!” she says. Whatever fear she’d harbored vanishes. Her voice is cute, a little like a bark of an excited puppy. She’s clearly surprised but, still, she’s waving at him, her hand like a metronome on the highest speed.

“H-hi,” Hyungwon stutters. He sounds stupid, but at least he answers.

He studies her eyes first. They slant up at the edges with mesmerizing brown irises in the center. They might look predatory in the wrong face, but in hers, they’re eager and alert and trained solely on him. Her wavy hair is streaked with brown and auburn and even a funny little strip of white at her crown that somehow makes her look younger instead of older. Her ears stick out, accentuating the cuteness in an already cute face.

A sweater swallows up her petite athletic frame just as her sweatpants do to her legs. She looks so soft and small compared to his long, wiry frame that Hyungwon has the irrational urge to pet her on his lap. He wonders if she’d purr. Okay, that’s a ludicrous thought, but he can’t stop himself from thinking it.

But as cute as she is, there are a few weird scars that catch his eye, too. Even though her hands are fidgeting inside those long sleeves, he sees the raised scratches on them. They’re old, dark brown against her fair skin, and in neat parallel lines of four. Peaking just above the sagging neckline of her sweater, there are a few more scars, but these are not scratches but punctures.

Her ears twitch as she smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Chae Hyungwon,” he says with the same robotic voice he always did for class roll calls.

“What are you doing here, Chae Hyungwon?”

She doesn’t say her name back, and she’s already asked another question, so it would be rude to ask his own instead of answering hers.

“I don’t know,” he replies, only realizing a second later that he knows exactly why he’s here but he’d completely forgotten for a moment. “I mean, my friends dared me to spend an hour in here. Some of them think this place is haunted. I don’t, uh, um, obviously, so, yeah, that’s the story of me in this place.”

She cocks her head, and her big ears twitch again with the motion. “Your friends are in here, too?”

She sounds a little tenser now, and she looks it, too. She’s fast and restless and bouncy, pacing along the edge of the room now somewhere between anxious and excited, and Hyungwon isn’t sure if that’s because of him or his friends or that’s just who she is.

“No, they’re waiting for me outside. See?”

He moves to the window and waves down, everyone but Kihyun waving back.

She doesn’t move to the window. In fact, she backs a little further into the corner again.

“Are you here on a dare, too?”

“Sort of,” she says.

“Mine’s an hour,” Hyungwon repeats and then realizes he's already said that. He’s really batting a thousand here…

“Mine’s a little longer than that.”

“Overnight, huh?” he says with a frown, trying to imagine one corner of this spider palace that even he, a world champion sleeper, could find comfortable enough to bed down. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says, still looking warily to the window. “Time’s almost up. I just have to tough it out a little longer.”

Hyungwon presses his lips together as he studies her. There’s a pile of clothes on the desk behind her all balled up. They’re dirty, too, but not covered in the layers of filth like the rest of this place.

He narrows his eyes. “Are your friends spending the night, too?”

“No. They think I’m being silly. They don’t want me here.”

Hyungwon smiles a little. “Neither do mine. So, what’s to stop you from leaving?”

“Me,” she replies simply.

“You sound like my friend Kihyun. He’s good at following through on things or, more importantly, making everyone else follow through on things. If he weren’t standing right outside, I’d have already gone home. Not because I’m scared,” he’s quick to add. “Because there are tons of other things I’d rather be doing.”

“Like what?”

She almost sounds like a child when she asks a question. There’s not only genuine interest in it but pure innocence, as though she’s never imagined anything more interesting than this crumbling building.

Hyungwon’s finding it hard to answer again. What is more interesting than this building and the pretty girl in it?

“I don’t know,” he says, “lots of stuff. Sleeping, video games, movies.”

What a lame answer. He’s embarrassed.

But she doesn’t seem to mind. It’s almost like she’s never heard of those things, the way she has her head tilted further to the side. She smiles, toothy and bright.

She’s so cute, he thinks and realizes too late he’s grinning dumbly at her.

Then something passes over her eyes, a little flutter that chases away the brightness there. Her small mouth tightens around the edges, and she’s pacing the wall again. When she speaks, her voice is much heavier. “Maybe you should go and do those things.”

Hyungwon takes a step toward the door. He might be off in his own world half the time, but the other half, he reads people pretty well. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I can wait out my time downstairs now.”

He gives her a quick bow and is about to slip out, confused and more than a little disappointed, when she zips in front of him like a lightning bolt. He had sensed she was fast, but in this foreboding place, he almost jumps out of his skin.

Those angled eyes are wide and jittery as she scopes him out from head to toe. She’s biting her bottom lip. Maybe she’s trying to flirt—Hyungwon is familiar with his effect on women after all—but the more she shifts from foot to foot, he supposes that may just be wishful thinking.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m not well,” she confesses, “which is why you should leave.”

Hyungwon smiles gently. “I tried, remember?”

The heaviness of guilt anchors the edges of her elegant face as she says, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Is it contagious?”

“I’m not sick—”

“Then let me help you,” he insists. “How can I help you?”

“It would help if you left, Hyungwon,” she says firmly, or maybe it’s desperately. “I won't get in your way this time. But you should hurry.”

Her eyes look even more wild now though they’re darker, narrower. Her nose twitches, too, and it would be cute if it weren’t for those eyes. Just like that, she’s pacing the length of the wall again, and she’s not biting her lip but worrying it.

“I can’t leave just yet,” he replies. That’s true—he still has forty minutes on his timer—but it’s not really honest. He doesn’t want to leave.

It smells different in here now. There’s still the fetid aroma of wet dirt, but it’s appealing now, primitive and animalistic, and it awakens something inside him. Hyungwon never feels like this, like there’s some base need in the pit of his belly growing unchecked and yearning for fulfilment, but right now, looking at this woman challenging him with her feisty eyes and restless stance, an urge to chase her overwhelms. And if the coil in his stomach has its way, it will only be satisfied when he pins her to the ground and takes her as his body demands.

But that’s not Hyungwon. He’s a cool, quiet guy known for lazing around and zoning out. Not to be conceited, but women come to him. He doesn’t have to hunt.

But he wants to.

He wants her.

He knows that’s ridiculous. He doesn’t know this girl, and she’s certainly not the reason he came in here. Literally everything is screaming at him to run from this feeling. It’s an abandoned building with mushrooms growing out of the floorboards, for God’s sake. This isn’t the place to come for a passionate rendezvous or to meet the girl of his dreams—or, at least, maybe not for a guy who likes a bed and his woman on top.

“Stop it,” she says.

“What?”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Hyungwon swallows hard, knowing he’s been caught. “Sorry. You’re right, I’ll go.”

He takes another step to leave, and again, she blocks the door with her small frame. The weird intensity in her eyes has diffused, and now, they are big and round, looking up apologetically at him. It almost gives him whiplash, and he can hardly believe it’s the same girl.

“That was so rude of me,” she blurts. “Please forgive me. I haven’t talked with anybody in a while, and my manners were always bad to begin with. Please stay if you want to. I mean, I want you to.”

There’s that urge to pounce again, the one that keeps getting stronger by the second and far worse the closer she stands. He realizes that smell—the musky one that gets his blood pumping—is coming from her and not the building. When she’s this close, his mind spins and yet stills on one inevitable conclusion.

He has to have her.

Hyungwon isn’t a forward type of guy, at least not when he’s just met someone. He likes getting to know people, likes connecting with them on deeper levels and likes when they think of him in his own category—as someone they want to run to when they need an ally. He doesn’t leap, he falls—helplessly and accidentally before he even knows he’s tripped. This is different because he’s leaping and falling all at the same time, and he’s painfully aware of all of it.

“Oh, this is really bad,” she says, changing tone again. Her hands are knotted in front of her, and she’s twitching and shifting, but her eyes are steadily lashed to him. “Why didn’t I let you go?”

His mouth is dry, his brain is fuzzy, but his vision is clear and focused on the pretty, wild creature in front of him. “If you still want me to go, I will. I’m not trying to freak you out.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” Hyungwon doesn’t understand, but before he can say so, she adds, “I can’t help it. It’s not a matter of what I want. I need you—”

“You need me to leave?” he finishes, his voice brittle.

“Yes,” she says slowly, “but…”

“But?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you go.”

At just the brush of her fingers on the back of his hand, sparks shower over him. In an instant, his world is consumed by fire. Her nails are sharper than he realized, and they scratch enticingly across his skin.

“I didn’t think it could happen so fast,” she murmurs. “And it was almost over…”

He wants to ask what she means, but the pads of her fingers slip into his hand and stroke his palm in a way that makes his brain short-circuit. What’s left of his thoughts is divided between the way her chest is heaving and the part of her lips as she borderline pants for him.

She reaches a hand up to his cheek and strokes him. Hyungwon closes his eyes and leans into it because he simply has to.

“Why did you have to be so beautiful?” she whispers. “I knew they would tempt me, but I thought I could outrun it.”

“They who?” he mumbles as he falls deeper into her whirlpool gaze.

“Maybe I still can…”

Called by her throaty voice, he leans down expectantly, but she smiles at him and jerks her head to the side at the last second. Hyungwon imagines he sees mischief as much as desire in those eyes, but he’s never met someone so difficult to read—it's like she’s a dozen different books at once.

“If you want me,” she says with freshly wet lips, “you have to catch me.”

With that, she darts through the door and into the hallway. Hyungwon spends only a few seconds weighing his options—it’s a dark, condemned building and she’s a total stranger—before he runs after her.

She is fast, but his legs are long, and he closes the distance between them easily. He thinks he has her just before she reaches the top of the stairs, but then she zips to the left and into another shell of an office. Hyungwon is right on her tail, but she’s nimble and hides behind a dusty desk, squaring off with him in a staring contest. There is fire in her eyes as there no doubt is in his. When she smiles, she looks like she is laughing at him as much as she is baiting him. Her teeth look sharper in the thin light, and her cheeks are blazing. She’s a different person than the timid thing who’d cowered from him on first sight, but then so is he.

Hyungwon is a nice, reasonable guy. He doesn’t play games. He’s open and honest, if sometimes far too blunt. He doesn’t think he’s a pervert even if his usual fantasies sometimes stray into an X-rated realm. But in no time at all, this woman has driven him to some kind of madness. She’s all he can think about. He can smell her all over him. He tastes her already—wild and deep and lingering on his tongue. He feels her, too. He’s done none of those things yet, though that doesn’t stop him from feeling overrun by his desire to do all of them at once.

While Hyungwon is lost in his very intense fantasy of her, she bolts back into the hallway witha savage laugh.

“Shit!” he mutters, and his feet reel underneath him.

He almost misses her disappearing into the room at the end of the hall, and even though he’s sure he saw her come in here, when he finally enters the room, there’s no sign of her, not even a smeared footprint in the dust.

Hyungwon’s heart plummets. She’s gone.

Just like that, she’s vanished from his life, leaving only a monsoon of desperate emotions sloshing in his chest.

He runs his hands through his hair. Was she a ghost? It’s stupid to think that, but maybe it isn’t. Okay, it still is.

Get it together, Hyungwon, he scolds himself.

She’s still here. She has to be. His heart is still hammering and his palms are still sweaty. He can feel her energy charging every inch of him. He leans into that and lets his body, not his brain, guide him through the labyrinth of file rooms and offices. With every footfall, he senses he is closing in. The how is not important, all that matters is that he finds her again.

Hyungwon clears everything on the top floor except the last room in the back corner. By now, his pulse is throbbing in time with his very painful erection, but he is sure she’s in here. He can feel her setting his skin on fire.

The anticipation is driving him crazy. Hyungwon is not one to chase anyone, but the thrill is intoxicating. He's drenched in sweat and steeped in anticipation. Where is she? He needs her.

Now.

The last room is an old conference room, with a big, dusty table, dozens of crumbling boxes, a few scattered chairs, and no exits. She has to be here.

Hyungwon looks for signs of her. There’s a chair on the floor and a handprint on the table. She was here. She must still be here.

His eyes cut through the shadows to which he’s growing more and more accustomed. In the corner, there’s an empty bookshelf, but she’s not beside it. There’s also a storage closet. His gaze sharpens on it.

Quietly, he steps forward, and when he’s right in front of it, he takes a deep breath and yanks the knob.

“Found y—”

His triumph dies on his lips. She’s not in there either.

She’s a ghost after all.

His stomach lurches.

There’s a sudden bump and whoosh, and Hyungwon wheels on his heel. From under the table darts a figure, lean, lithe, and fast as hell. But he’s been waiting—every atom of him has been waiting—and he lunges. His hands close around a narrow waist, and he surges forward until they run out of real estate.

Hyungwon has her caged in against the wall, and she whirls around so their eyes meet. She is much smaller than he is, but she doesn’t cower. Instead, her breath is racing. Her eyes flash along with her teeth. Her excitement charges Hyungwon with some kind of delirium he's never felt for a woman before. He has never been so hard in his whole life. It’s like he was made to fuck this woman. He will never feel fulfilled unless he does. It’s terrifying, but it’s all so natural.

“I don’t know what’s come over me. I swear I’m not usually like this,” he blabbers as he looms over her, panting in her face.

“I know,” she says, and it almost sounds sad. It’s just enough to dam the lust so Hyungwon can think straight again.

“What’s happening to me?”

“You should fight it,” she urges. “You should run.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“I don’t want you to go, Hyungwon. I need you to go. I need you to run.”

His lips press to the crown of her hair. He breathes her in, his mysterious vixen. Her hair smells strongly of mustiness, of nature and the earth, of dampness and decay, but underneath it all, she smells of desire. It’s real. It’s primal.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Why do you keep apologizing?” Hyungwon asks, tracing her face with his hand.

It’s the first time there’s some kind of ice in her eyes to temper the flames. “Because I want to make sure you know that I really did try to resist you, but I won’t. I can’t. I want you too much.”

With their fates sealed, she collides with his mouth. Her tongue slides between his, and a burst of cold unfurls in the center of all the heat, almost like she’s been sucking on an ice cube. Hyungwon moans because the sensation is as unexpected as it is delicious. Her nails bite into him sharper than expected, but the pain is a welcome reminder that she is real and not some ghost.

The cold spreads through his body like a riptide, pulling parts of him on a strong current to her. He hasn’t experienced anything like this before. Deep down, he knows she’s right—he should fight; riptides kill—but it also feels like it was always meant to be a losing battle and, more importantly, one he doesn’t mind losing.

But slowly, the cold morphs into heat, a scalding heat the way frostbite feels like fire. The deeper her tongue probes his mouth, the hotter he burns even as he’s frozen in place. Her moan at his taste makes his arm give way beside her, and he tumbles into her, intent on crushing her beneath him.

Her hands spool into his hair in response as her hips rut against his thigh.

Good, she’s as crazy for him as he is for her, and Hyungwon only wants to make her crazier.

There’s so many things he wants to do to her. He wants to taste every inch of her. He wants to suckle at her perky breasts and nibble on her hard clit and eat her out until she can’t walk and he has to carry her everywhere for the next day, but right now, he has to bury himself to his hilt inside her. It’s the only thing that makes sense. It’s what he needs, it’s what she needs—to cum for each other while knotted up together in their dank little love den.

Hyungwon breaks their kiss to grab her shoulders before he swivels her around to bend her over the conference room table. Her hands squeal through years of grime, leaving frenzied tracks of need like wild fucking animals. It rustles up a cloud of dust and mildew that would usually send him into a sneezing fit, but it’s like all his senses beyond his woman have dimmed. He only smells her. He only tastes her. He only needs her.

She lets out a little moan that sets his teeth on edge. Everything about her is egging him on, and he’s losing his mind. His hands find the waist of her pants and yank them down so hard that seams pop. She snarls but so does he.

Her heat slams into him like a radiator waiting to scald the first errant touch. Hyungwon wastes no time. He gropes her sex with his whole hand, letting her dripping core coat his palm in sticky desire. He rubs in a frenzy—he can’t help himself. He’s not sure what he’s doing because he’s never done things like this before. This isn’t him. Hyungwon is a slow lover, a purposeful lover. He likes getting lost in his partners and staying lost. Maybe he’s doing that now, too, but this is far more feral.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she whines, wriggling her ass against him and smearing more of her arousal all over his hand.

Hyungwon unzips his jeans and groans the moment he’s freed from his denim prison. Now, he wants the pressure of her cunt bearing down on him in relentless waves, that riptide pulling him ever deeper inside her. He won’t deny either of them any longer.

He takes the wet lust drenching his hand and smears it along his length so he will be able to take her faster. He can’t waste another second. The head of his cock fits snugly at her entrance. He can feel her pulsing with the promise of a fast, hard fuck, and he’s so sensitive, he’s ready to blow his load before he’s even inside her, so he pushes in without warning.

She yelps, her nails scratching the table, but it’s immediately followed by an obscene moan. She swivels her ass to swallow every last millimeter of his member and whimpers, “It’s been so long, but I don’t remember it ever feeling this good.”

Hyungwon’s brain is combusting. She shouldn’t say these kinds of things to him. They only serve to make him wilder.

One of his hands snakes up under her shirt and grabs one of her tits, squeezing hard as much to hold steady against his fast rhythm as it is to sample yet another one of her secret pleasures. She fits so well in the palm of his hand, too. Her nipple slots between his fingers, and he tightens them, which sends a cry from her lips and a shiver through her cunt.

“Don’t stop,” she begs. “Don’t ever stop.”

“I never will,” he grunts in return.

Maybe it’s the depth of his voice or maybe it’s the crackle of flames in it, but she moans and pushes back hard against him until he bottoms out again. It feels like he’s somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach, he’s burrowed so far inside her, and every ripple along her walls seems to constrict around him, tethering him to her, frantic to keep him.

Unexpectedly, Hyungwon cums.

He expects to be embarrassed, to be ashamed at his performance and his lack of willpower, but since he’s met this untamed creature, he’s had none. He should have known, and yet the strength of his release takes him totally by surprise. It’s like he’s emptying everything he has into her, and he really, really, really needs her to take it all and beg for more, more, more.

“Yes,” she whines and works her ass against his hips as if she can read his thoughts. “Yes, so deep. Feels so good inside me.”

It’s like her words lengthen his climax. It feels like he’s being drained not just of his seed but his life force, and it feels wonderful. Hyungwon collapses onto her back and sandwiches her against the table; only then does he remember to breathe.

“I’m s—” he tries to splutter out between pathetic gulps of air, but her keening drowns it out.

“I need more, Hyungwon.”

He wanted her to beg for more, but what does he have left to give now? It was the wickedest orgasm of his life. His legs are jelly, his mind is mush, and inside her ravenous cunt, his dick is throbbing. Fire marches through his veins, setting his extremities to tingling. He’s hyper-aware of the way her core is massaging his length, milking him for all he’s worth.

“You have to give me more,” she whimpers, and it sounds borderline frantic, like she’s choking back tears.

Hyungwon pulls out nearly all the way before he glides back in through his own sticky release.

She wails gratefully.

He’s already cum. Why is he still hard? Why does he still want her so badly?

Again, he fucks into her, much more leisurely this time, promising himself he’s going to savor her like she should be savored, but suddenly, her hand reaches back and stills his hips. Her nails bite into his tender flesh and he growls.

“On the table,” she orders, and despite how his reasoned mind balks at the idea of his body touching all the filth, her orders are not to be disobeyed.

Hyungwon sits on the table edge, but she shakes her head lightly.

“Lay down.”

He does so without hesitation, and she purrs before she slides out of her sweatpants as he does out of his own. There’s not even time for either of them to slip out of their shirts before the need for each other takes an even firmer hold. Nimble as a wild animal, she pounces on the table and stands directly over him. The table creaks but mercifully gives no other sign of protest.

His vixen is small, but she towers above him. From here, he gets a front row seat to watch his massive release leak down her toned thighs. As embarrassed as he is at his brief showing, a flash of pride burns brightly in his chest. She is his and everyone should see it.

She crouches then, fingers pressed for stability on his tensed stomach while her other hand encircles the base of his cock. Her eyes are predatory now. She licks her lip and sinks down onto his shaft.

Hyungwon groans so loudly, he’s worried the guys outside might hear and come looking for him.

“That’s better,” she says breathily after her own moan trails off. When she’s ready, she braces her stance on either side of Hyungwon’s narrow hips for a better grip on the dusty wood and begins to bounce.

She’s too good at this. She’s just too good in general. Her compact, wiry frame gives her speed as well as agility, and she pistons with precision on his cock.

In the silence of the abandoned building, their bodies are loud—grunts and sighs and ragged breaths, squelching and slapping and creaking table legs. Hyungwon is generally comfortable in silence, but not today and not with her. He wants to hear their sin as much as he wants to feel it, and, fuck, does it feel good.

Before, with him behind her, it felt primal—it felt urgent. But she is using him now, stealing what she wants from him this time, and even though he’s just here as a tool, that makes him feel more powerful than ever. She only feels this good because of him, because of what he gives her, and that knowledge, more than anything, brings the tightness back to his stomach.

Beneath her, Hyungwon is coming apart. His eyes roll back in his head as he falls victim to every ounce of pleasure she wields against him. He’s always favored being under a woman—savoring the sight of her face slackening with release as her breasts sway with her natural rhythm—but she is different in every way. She isn’t tiring, she isn’t begging. She’s taking and taking and taking, and all he wants to do is offer her more.

Maybe she won’t beg, but Hyungwon’s certainly not above it.

“Don’t stop,” he croaks out. “Don’t ever stop. Please.”

She opens her eyes then, stares down at him and then his fingers, which have coiled around her waist at some point when he was lost in her. Her eyes glow like embers dying in a fire, but with a blink, that image is gone.

Even if Hyungwon tries to convince himself this is more than just using each other, there’s nothing romantic about this. It’s fucking, plain and simple. He feels raw and savage and rabid with lust for this woman as she bounces up and down on the full breadth of his cock.

But as he looks up into her face, those strong cheekbones contoured even stronger by her building euphoria, he thinks maybe this could become more than two strangers succumbing to base need. She’s beautiful and impulsive, sure, but she’s also elusive and captivating, and there’s something about her that makes him think she has an old soul, too. Maybe they can be more than perfect one-night sex. He wants to be. He wants her to continue to need him.

Or maybe that’s just his fantastical mind justifying why he’d plowed dick-deep into a woman who still hadn’t told him her name.

Her moans are climbing higher while at the same time getting shorter and more frantic. She grips his wrists to ride him harder, and just as her walls seize around him, Hyungwon breaks her hold to wrap his arms around her and pull her flat against his chest. Her hair fans across his cracking lips as he heaves, desperate for the air that seems to be steadily thinning as he plows up into her.

She’s keening now but so is he, and together, they mewl as Hyungwon buries himself as deep as he can get and unloads again. This time, he feels it in his toes, his thighs, his belly, even the back of his head. His vision swims with the strength of his climax, and his hug constricts so violently around her that she digs her claws into the meat of his shoulders.

Hyungwon lingers inside her, his hips still hovering in mid-air to make sure the last trickles of his orgasm remain within her painted walls. Eventually though, his legs give out, and he eases them both back down to the table.

She is limp on his chest, and if it weren’t for the high-speed thundering of her breath against his neck, he might have worried she’d passed out.

“Why didn’t you run?” she asks from the safety of the hollow of his throat. Her voice is breaking, and a shiver runs through him.

Slowly, she lifts her chest from his. Her hand cradles his head while an unexpected tear falls from her eye onto his chin.

“Why would I ever run from you?” he replies gently.

Hyungwon traces the back of his hand across her cheek to wipe away the track of her tear, but it only provokes two more from her.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, earnestly terrified that he has.

“No,” she sniffs. “I did. I will. I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” he soothes.

“Hyungwon?”

She sounds small and helpless, and it makes every part of him want to hold her even closer.

“What?” he says.

“Forgive me?”

“For what?”

“For this.”

She descends like a feather, her body lightly kissing his from waist to chest to lips at last. He wishes they were naked so he could feel every inch of her the way he’s meant to, but he will take as much of her as he can get.

Right away, Hyungwon discovers this kiss is different than any kiss he’s ever had. It’s hard to explain, but he feels it like it’s his first and last kiss all at once. There’s so much weight in it though their lips are merely dusting one another’s. It’s making him lightheaded and a little giddy. Through the gentle caress of swollen skin, he lets out an airy sigh, and, dimly, he thinks he sounds drunk.

Through his shuttered eyes, he senses a faint golden light, almost like the first tinge of sunrise, but he knows they are still deep in the throes of night. He opens his eyes and finds his lady soft and delicate above him. It’s almost as if the light is emanating between them, for he can see every detail of her face with perfect clarity—the curl of her lashes feathering her cheeks, the sharp upturn at the tip of her nose, the pointiness of her brows dulled by their gentle kissing. Hyungwon closes his eyes again to better enjoy the sensations of her walls squeezing his waning hard-on and their breaths melding into one another.

As his tongue sweeps deep into her mouth now, ice unexpectedly marches through his veins. He’s been on fire this whole time, but now he is frigid to his very bones. He gasps, and she returns the favor to push into his mouth. It’s not just her tongue he feels now, but a strange round shape, like a marble or a bead. Everything in his body is cold, but this is warm. So warm. It rolls around in his mouth, getting hotter by the second. She is playing with it, too, almost like two cats bandying around a ball of yarn.

Hyungwon knows this isn’t normal, but the cold is shutting down his senses, like a bear preparing for hibernation. He’s had the two best orgasms of his life, and he is tired. Now, his eyes aren’t closed just to appreciate the feel of the woman above him, but they’re closed because he wants to fall asleep inside her. He would be content to never wake up from her hold on him.

Somewhere in the dim cavern at the back of his mind, a little voice tries to call to him. It wants to rouse him; it wants him to open his eyes, but Hyungwon can do neither. It’s like seeing his dreaming self from outside his body, and he’s helpless but to watch himself drift deeper into acceptance.

The bead in his mouth feels like molten lead. It’s getting hard to remember simple things. Where is he? Why is he here—wherever this is? Who is he? He thinks he knows. He thinks it’s important. He knows he’s supposed to know these things, but they’re not as important as they once were.

“Wonnie, man, where are you?”

As soon as Changkyun’s deep voice booms up the stairwell, the world crystallizes. The heaviness on Hyungwon’s chest lifts, and he sucks in a violent breath as though he’s just made it up from the bottom of the ocean in the nick of time. The fire that has seared his skin for the last hour extinguishes, too, leaving only the memory of the burn throbbing all over him. Inside his veins, the ice thaws, yet he’s still frozen. He remembers his name and his friends. He remembers his bet. He remembers the abandoned office building, but he does not remember how he got to this room.

Hyungwon tries to move—to call out—but he can’t. He feels drained, lifeless.

“Come on already! You won. Don’t be a showoff,” shouts Kihyun next.

Everyone pauses for Hyungwon’s inevitable retort, but none comes.

“I thought you weren’t coming in,” Minhyuk chides in the silence, which earns him an immediate “Zip it” from their stern-lipped friend.

His friends’ voices feel much closer now, though Hyungwon’s pretty sure they’re still on the first floor. The stairwell acts like a PA system, transmitting their banter with perfect clarity.

“I swear to god, if that clever brat slipped out the back—” Kihyun warns.

“Why don’t we split up?” suggests Hyunwoo. “Everyone, take a floor.”

Minhyuk chuckles. “You don’t get enough credit for how shrewd you are, hyung.”

“We can cover more ground this way,” the eldest assures though, after a pause, he continues, “and it will be easier for Hyungwon to answer us if it’s quieter.”

“I don’t like the idea of splitting up,” hedges Kihyun. “It might be better to look in pairs.”

“Chicken,” Minhyuk baits.

“Do you want me to call in Jooheon and Hoseok?” asks Changkyun.

“What would be the point?” says Minhyuk. “Even if we could get those two babies inside, we wouldn’t be able to hear each other over their screaming, let alone Wonnie.”

Hyungwon should be heartened that his friends are searching for him, but he can’t feel anything except the vague notion that he should be trying to call for help. Even his eyes are unfocused. The room is cloudy just like the last leg of his life.

He remembers feelings: ecstasy, relief, a quick ice bath of sadness, followed by listlessness. And that is where he’s stayed, mired in grayness.

“Wonnie!” shouts Minhyuk this time. His voice is a thousand times louder and more demanding than Changkyun’s. It shakes something awake in Hyungwon.

“Here,” he answers, though it’s a pitiful sound, like a mewling kitten in the rain. Nobody hears him.

His friends take turns calling until, finally, Hyunwoo gets close enough to catch his little cries.

“Up here!” the eldest bellows as he turns the corner and finds Hyungwon stretched out on the conference room table.

Hyungwon doesn’t remember much after that save for a weird shiver of embarrassment that follows Minhyuk’s incredulous shout: “Dude, why are you naked?”

His friends help him dress and bring him downstairs. They douse him with questions, none of which he can answer because he’s still not sure what happened. All he really remembers is waking up in the hospital just the right side of Death’s door with snippets of a surreal dream that are both too wonderful to remember and far too terrifying.

He doesn’t know what happened on the fourth floor of that decrepit office, and he’s not sure he’s ready to know.

And yet…

The day he’s released from the hospital, Hyungwon finds himself sitting on the curb outside that building. And the day after that. And the day after that. And most days after that for the next couple of months.

He stares up into one window in particular every time. He expects to see a ghost because that’s what Jooheon assures him nearly killed him, but he never does. If it were a ghost, it would come back, right?

He wants it to come back if just so he knows he’s not crazy. Or maybe that’s just the safe answer he gives to all his friends. The truth is much more shameful than that.

As close as he was to death that day, Hyungwon had touched some kind of happiness he hasn’t been able to feel since then. It’s probably grotesque, but at least it’s honest.

Sometimes he thinks about going back inside, but he’s not stupid—well, that stupid. He feels like his answers are in there along with his memories, but his friends would never forgive him if he went back in, so he doesn’t. He just sits and stares at the window, hoping something more then the memory of fire and riptides will unlock. It feels important.

So for now, he sits, legs folded up like a paperclip at the end of a dead-end road, staring up and zoning out, the wisp of a voice on the edge of his brain.

Forgive me?

Something rustles in the overgrowth in front of the building. Hyungwon shoots to his feet, his eyes trained into the twilight. It’s far too small to be either a human or ghost. A flash of rust and white. An eye of golden flame. A cat or a fox maybe. Either way, it signals it’s time for him to leave his post. It’s getting dark and there’s always tomorrow.

Maybe that will be the day he remembers the one elusive, beautiful, important thing he never wants to forget.

#monsta x smut #hyungwon smut #oneshot #strangers to lovers #october vibes #prepare to be spooped

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